Zuko flung himself into the aerial kick that was the focal move of the set he was trying to perfect. Fire licked through the air in the wake of his leg, a blazing plume in the morning light. But it wasn't as fierce as it should have been. It wasn't quite right.

Or maybe he wasn't quite right. He'd been sleeping less, spending late nights in the office preparing, running through scenarios, pouring over documents. Even before the villa - back in the palace, during Katara's time in the infirmary, he had spent long hours studying and had forcefully consumed a great deal of Master Tak's ever-expanding syllabus. He had not thought much of it at the time, but there had been numerous records and documents that had interested him for one reason or another, many of which he had sneaked away to his own rooms whenever the old librarian was not there to defend them.

And those records and documents had been swept up in a number of boxes when Machi made the decision to follow him to the villa, so now they were here.

Zuko was not an academic. It was agonizing, trying to pound some of this information into his head or pick through pages of useless information for the one thing he was looking for. What Zuko was, what he had been since the catastrophic dust had settled from the day of the war meeting and the duel, was more driven than ever.

In the fuzzy confusion of that time, he had thought he was working so hard to redeem himself for his sentimental lapses. He'd thought of himself as a disgraced prince, an embarrassment to his father once again, and in the absence of any other options after his calendar had been cleared of any work of import, he had wanted to learn anything and everything that might be useful going forward.

To his current, more focused eye, it was unclear exactly how some of this information would have been useful in winning back his father's favor. Because now it was far more evident to Zuko how useful such information would be to an insurrectionist.

The confrontation with the first wave of royal guards yesterday had him on edge, and it seemed only minutes passed between when he abandoned his studies and dropped into his bed and when he jerked awake from another in his ongoing series of intense dreams.

He rarely remembered them lately, apart from the fear and dread that clung to him upon waking. But last night, he had dreamed that Katara had forgiven him and they were fighting an army of royal guards together. He knew that's what he had dreamed because when he woke up, the realization that she hadn't actually forgiven him in any major sense, that everything was still so overwhelmingly ruined between them, had flattened him to the bed and left his chest a hollowed, aching void.

But she had forgiven him for one thing. And if she could give him that tiniest inch, then there was still hope. Not hope for the things his idiot heart kept clamoring for - because he had said it aloud last night, he had closed that door so that she might feel safe. No, those things would never come again, but redemption was still possible. There was hope that she might not always hate him.

The soft flicker breathed to life in his chest, a candle in a vast cavern, and Zuko rose to face the coming day.

Presently, he drew a few deep breaths and tried the set again. Again, the flame was bright but not as hot or large as it should have been. Snarling, Zuko repeated the set, and thought of his stupid decisions and his stupid blindness and his stupid pathetic-

"Rragh!"

The flame was brilliant, dazzling, sharp. But it still wasn't quite as intense as it was supposed to be. It wasn't as powerful as it had been when he had practiced it on his ship under Iroh's supervision. It wasn't good enough, and there was no one here now to help Zuko understand why.

"I'm here! I'm not even that late, so what's your problem?"

He turned to find Katara descending the steps toward him, looking brisk and annoyed. "I- That wasn't... I was just trying to get this kick right."

She assumed a spot across from him, but didn't immediately draw up water for an attack. Instead, she only peered at him dryly. "It had fire and yelling. Seems to check all the boxes."

"Well... the yelling isn't really a part of it... except it kind of helps with breath control." Taking in her bland expression, Zuko huffed and scowled. "It's just supposed to be bigger, alright?"

She blinked at him, unimpressed. "I'm sure it's perfectly average."

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose as he drew a deep breath, so he didn't see the startled, self-recriminating tick of her face and, while the irritating gist of her response struck home, the innuendo flew right over his head.

Instead, he focused on his mission and reminded himself of his progress. She'd accepted an apology. That was a big step. He wasn't going to blow it now over some minor annoyance in his training.

"Average isn't good enough," he said when he had reined in his frustration. He peered at her, willing her to understand. "We can't win this thing with average. Look, when I was coming back from that meeting yesterday, some royal guards tried to escort me back to the palace. I managed to talk them out of it, but next time it'll probably come down to a fight. I have to be-"

But Katara's dropped jaw suddenly started working again. "Why didn't you mention this to me yesterday?"

"There was nothing to do about it last night but worry. Now you know."

She glowered at him, then slowly folded her arms over her chest. "Alright," she said archly. "Now I know."

The words were not some easy acceptance; they hung in the air like thunder ahead of a storm. But Katara immediately pressed on.

"So what, are they coming here next?"

"Probably sometime today," Zuko confirmed. "A larger force with orders to take me into custody."

He hesitated to go on because her brow was already furrowed in what appeared to be anxiety. If she was that worried about the royal guards, perhaps she did not need the added knowledge that they would be targeting her as well. Perhaps she didn't need to know that, with the full moon just days away, they might be under orders to kill her rather than risk her getting loose and wrecking havoc in Caldera.

But that wasn't going to happen. Zuko wouldn't let that happen.

"They won't get past the gate," he said. "Our guards are all on high alert. And most of my firebending is above average. Whatever comes, we'll be ready to face it."

Katara frowned thoughtfully down the drive for a moment, and Zuko did not know, but her mind was buzzing with what this was going to mean for the healers she had brought here and the safety she had promised them. Zuko only saw her uncertainty, and it sent a pang through him.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he said abruptly. Urgently.

Her eyes snapped back to him then, and she pulled a face like he was being weird. "What?"

"I- You're under my protection. You don't need to worry. I'll-"

"I'm not worried. And not because of your protection." She sneered and wiggled her fingers in the air to really emphasize how seriously she took that. "I just question how long we can stay here if there are going to be guards coming all the time to arrest you."

Zuko, his mouth and eyebrow twitching in irritation, addressed that real concern instead of hotly defending the very serious and dependable strength of his protection. "Not much longer. A few days. Then we'll relocate to a secret base of operations. Machi's already handling the logistics."

"Great." The furrow in her brow only deepened as she absorbed this. She almost looked... disappointed.

"There's another hot spring," Zuko offered sourly. "At the new place. And a pond."

Katara drew a breath and straightened from her pensive slouch. She seemed to consider him for a moment. Then her tight lips softened and she shrugged. "Is it far from here?"

"A couple miles as the hawk flies. Longer on the roads because of the elevation."

She nodded as if this pleased her - though why it would apart from the promise of a fairly short journey, Zuko wasn't sure. "Is it as big as the villa?" she demanded. Something about her hooded eyes and the prissy set of her mouth seemed put on. "I like my space."

Zuko folded his arms hard over his chest. "I don't know; I haven't been inside every noble's country home." Her eyes narrowed and he tore his away to glare up to the rooftop and focus on using a less biting tone. "It's probably about the same. The Piangs and the Gans have been rivals for generations; their ancestors definitely would have gloated to each other over having the bigger villa."

She was silent for an expanding moment and, when he looked back at her, Zuko found her eyes and mouth screwed up like she was about to ask a question. But then she stopped herself and smirked instead.

"Charming, your people. I guess when you have more than you could possibly ever need, the only thing left to do is rub it in your neighbor's face."

Zuko's mouth twisted slightly, but he didn't deny it. He had basically accused Lord Gan of just that a couple days ago.

Instead, his mind strayed fleetingly to Katara's people. What did they do when they possessed an excess of riches? Probably some big goody-goody sharing party where everybody hugged everybody else and divided everything evenly. He pictured Sokka looking all smug and benevolent, handing out fish.

And he remembered like a physical sensation the sound of the knife that had severed Sokka's wolf-tail just feet behind him, somehow louder than the sound of his own knife slicing off his own phoenix plume. He couldn't have turned to look if he'd wanted to with the stares of all his people aimed up at him with all their burning hope and pride and expectation, but when he thought of that moment now, the only feeling hammering through him was shame.

What a low and cowardly and dishonorable thing to do to someone who had once tried to be his friend.

The amusement had faded from Katara's face as she watched him, only to be replaced by some tighter, harder emotion. As if she was waiting for him to react in some way and he wasn't doing what she expected. Like he was being weird again, or maybe just difficult. Zuko forced his face back under control and straightened his neck.

"Oh, is training canceled?"

Iyuma stood at the top of the steps and looked between them, blinking in not-quite-innocent query. Her body turned slightly back toward the door, as if there was somewhere else she wanted to be, but Zuko did not really notice that.

"Nope." Katara immediately pulled a stream of water from the fountain and held it in the air around her, at the ready. "It's on."

Zuko squared up to her and bowed. She blinked flatly back at him as he performed the movement, and when he was ready, she struck.

.


.

Katara blocked a punch and in the same motion brought her shield around in a tight curl with the intention of slapping the annoying expressions right off Zuko's stupid face.

So this was how he was going to play it? She took verbal jabs at him, and he refused to fight back? Every time she thought he was going to finally snap out some cruel retort, he just breathed and got back to business. Yesterday, he'd definitely been on the brink of an explosion. Today, he'd stayed almost cordial. Tense and annoyed, but not even rude really.

She just wasn't hitting the right stress point. But eventually, she was going to nail it. Eventually, his new control was going to slip and he was going to set loose that bottled-up maelstrom and he'd probably spew all the hateful thoughts and petty grudges that had to be racking up right now.

But... as Katara worked through her form and her temper settled, it occurred to her that this wasn't exactly the best time to force Zuko into revealing his true colors. She had to focus on getting all the healers out of Caldera first. When they were all free, when she'd figured out a way to get them all safely out of the Fire Nation - out of the blast radius - then she could see just how long the new Zuko's fuse really was.

You know exactly how long it is... And you never thought 'average' when it was-

Shocked and briefly stunned, Katara had to scramble to get out of the way as he kicked flames at her with a shout. What was wrong with her? She didn't want to be thinking these things - much less blurting them out loud! - but it was like that sneaky force that had come slithering up yesterday had somehow gotten stronger overnight.

Maybe... Maybe it was a side effect of being Katto again. Being a warrior who acted and fought and saved people... it felt good. It made Katara feel stronger. Freer. More like herself, back when being herself had felt good. Maybe somehow putting on her old identity was waking up other parts of her, too, parts that Katto had needed then to survive.

Well, even if that was true, they certainly weren't parts Katara needed now!

She withdrew, then slid her weight forward again, sending a handful of powerful jets straight for him. Zuko dodged out of the path of most of them, only to be struck in the shoulder by the last when Katara subtly altered the form to change its trajectory. It sent him flying and he tumbled completely backward, flipping so he came down hard on his belly.

He glowered at her as he pushed himself up, menacingly slow. His yellow eyes were narrowed now, tight with pain and irritation.

Katara thought about striking him while he regained his feet. Instead, she only looked down her nose at him. "Oh, was I supposed to be going easy too?"

"I gave you that one," Zuko growled, then sprang up and started a quick series of blasts, "to help rebuild your confidence!"

Despite the speed of the barrage, none of those blasts struck Katara's water with enough force to really shatter her flow. He was going easy. Easier than yesterday, to be sure. Though whether it was because he was underestimating her strength or because he was restraining his intensity to avoid another bout of rude staring, she wasn't sure.

And she primly decided she didn't care. Whatever was going on in his head was his problem. She would knock him down as many times as she could in any case.

But it turned out that might not be a lot. Although his attacks never strayed above a certain threshold of ferocity, his defense only grew stronger. He sliced through her waves and pierced her jets, crumbled her ice and diverted her projectiles, and whenever she gave him an opening, he launched another underwhelming attack.

It was frustrating, those half-hearted attacks combined with not managing to hit him again, so Katara's thoughts started to wander and she allowed her focus to slip away.

She was going to have to tell him about the healers eventually. There was just no way she was going to be able to hide them in her rooms forever, especially as she brought more back with her. And that wasn't even taking this upcoming move into account. Zuko would find out, probably because Machi would notice a ton of extra people hanging around and tell him about it.

It was her job after all. Micromanaging was what majordomos did. Machi might be a step up from Pokui, but she was still an extension of Zuko's will, and for all that Katara didn't dislike her, she still felt the need to slap that extension if it got too close.

No, it wasn't that Katara thought she could keep the secret indefinitely. It wasn't even really that she was holding this back to spite Zuko for holding back the news about the royal guard. This was just... hers. They were her people and it was her destiny and she wasn't sharing it until she had to. Just thinking of it, of the women gathered now in her rooms having their tearful reunion, filled her with a glow of deep, resonant happiness and satisfaction.

Well... that, and a terrifying uncertainty and dread that had welled up in her the moment Sian had said her name and they had all stared at her, realizing her deceit. Realizing she flew in the face of their culture and traditions. Eventually, she would have to face them again, and they would find out the truth about her. They would figure out exactly what kind of woman she was. Loska was probably telling them all about it right now...

But thinking of that made her limbs drag with despair. So Katara let it flow away. Her thoughts circled back to the joyous reunion, cultivating that happy satisfaction like a pearl.

She had gotten through the majority of Lady Gan's third list. More than half of the most endangered healers were tucked away in her sitting room, having their tea served to them. And it had been so easy. They had all come so readily, following Katto without question. There had been guards, but they were mostly just house guards; there probably wasn't a lot to guard against most of the time in the royal city, so they weren't very alert.

It wasn't going to stay this easy. Probably, word would spread pretty quickly that healers were disappearing. There might be more security. Maybe traps.

Would it be obvious that Katara was responsible for the rescues? She hadn't been seen, but her disguise wasn't going to fool anyone who was familiar with her story. She was probably the only free waterbender known to be in the area, and she had famously dressed as a boy.

But people also knew she was staying at the Gan villa, and the path up to Caldera wasn't exactly public information. For all anyone knew, Katara was too far away to be involved. Perhaps the disappearances would be blamed on someone in the city or someone coming and going through the normal routes.

Or perhaps all it would take was a look at a map to notice the Gan villa was not so far from the capital - as the hawk flies, like Zuko had said. Someone could very well figure it out, and then that hidden pass wouldn't be safe anymore. And, if the pass wasn't safe, it would make little difference how far away they relocated; Katara would have to find a new way up to Caldera.

She had to work faster tonight. The waxing moon was on her side. If she could just-

"Oof!"

A burst of fire struck her chest with explosive force, knocking her rolling. She ended up on her back, gasping and breathless from the impact.

"Katara!"

Zuko was kneeling over her at once, scanning her repeatedly and holding his hands out in front of him like he was trying to touch her and not touch her at the same time. Iyuma rushed up on her other side, water already glowing. Abruptly, her concerned expression dropped to exasperation.

"Oh, you're fine," she said.

"She's having trouble breathing," Zuko snapped. "Do something!"

"She got the wind knocked out of her. What do you want me to do?"

"I'm fine," Katara wheezed. She started trying to prop herself up on her elbows but her stomach muscles were not having it.

Zuko slipped one hot hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her up to a seated position. He withdrew quickly, but the feel of his splayed fingers lingered in the back of her mind. She rubbed the nape of her neck to settle the prickles that had stirred there and propped her other elbow on her knee.

"How did you let that hit you?" he demanded. "It wasn't even that hard."

"I just missed it, alright?"

"No, it's not alright." He stood, shaking his head as he frowned down at her. There was something a little wild in his eyes. His voice was harder than it had been all morning. "Your head isn't in it today. We're done."

"What? We're just getting started!"

"I'm not firebending with you if you aren't focused. You can splash around with Iyuma and daydream all you want."

"Splash around-?"

He turned his back on her and stalked off into the house before she could get past her sputtering offense and launch into full anger. Katara now wanted nothing more than to leap up and give him her undivided attention, but he was already gone and her chest still throbbed.

"Is it just me, or did he seem scared?"

"No, just the ordinary everyday imperious ice-hole," Katara huffed, dropping her head down and bracing it in her hands as she pulled in a deep but not entirely calming breath.

"Well, yeah. That too." Iyuma was quiet for a moment, and shifted from her knees to sit on the paving stones beside her. "But from a casual observer's perspective? He landed a hit and got scared he'd hurt you. Then, like the startled frogtopus, he squirted the environment with distracting jerk-ink so he could make a quick getaway."

Katara snorted, then chuckled a moment later, and gave her an incredulous look. "What's a frogtopus?"

"Eight-legged frog. Crazy looking. Like a spider made out of frog. I saw one outside the palace infirmary one time."

"You did not."

"I did. But only for a second before it squirted ink and disappeared."

"That couldn't possibly work on dry land."

"I don't think he knew that. He just inked and hopped off down the corridor. Left little octagonal frog prints all over the clean floor." She made a skittering gesture with one hand toward the doorway through which Zuko had disappeared.

Katara couldn't contain the laugh. It just bubbled out of her at the silly comparison and the obvious lie. And then it was like a floodgate had broken. Tension fed her shuddering giggles, pouring out of her in a way she hadn't realized she had needed. In a way she had missed since she'd been separated from her friends weeks ago.

Iyuma chuckled along with her, then abruptly threw her arm around Katara's shoulders, hugging her close.

"You saved my best friend last night. Do you know that? I thought maybe the stories about you were overblown, but you really are some kind of hero."

Katara wiped her eyes and blushed hard. "Oh, I'm just... doing my part."

"No," Iyuma said quietly, and waited for her to meet her eye. "You're carrying us. We could be fighters. We should have been fighters, but Pakku and the other masters didn't want us to be. And now you have to carry us. You. Not the men."

She was silent for a moment and Katara felt the weight of what she was saying. The North was founded on the cooperation of Yin and Yang, and the roles of men and women had long emulated that balance. But now the ideal was shattered. When the waterbenders had escaped, they took the warriors, not the healers. There had been pragmatic reasons for the decision, Katara recalled, but that didn't change the fact that it had happened.

Iyuma went on, shaking her head. "I think... The Northern Water Tribe is never gonna be the same after this. Not just because of the awful things that have happened to us, but because of you. Because you showed us what we can do. You're showing us every day."

Hunched forward with her elbows on her knees and Iyuma's arm around her shoulders, Katara couldn't help the couple of tears that dropped down her cheeks. That room full of women back in the house that filled her with such happiness and dread... There were so many reasons to be afraid of what would come next when she walked back into that room. But what Iyuma was saying made it a little less terrifying. A little more hopeful.

"You don't think they'll hate me for betraying the Water Tribe by..." Katara shrugged. "...with the Fire Prince?"

Iyuma huffed out a laugh. "Loska has her way of seeing it, but she doesn't speak for everyone. And she still hadn't ratted you out before I followed you out here. Maybe she's warming up to you."

Katara felt a tingle of sentiment at the suggestion - only to have it dissipate as Iyuma went on.

"Or maybe she's waiting for you to be there so it'll be extra castigating when she reveals your shame. Who can say with Loska?"

"Great. That's really reassuring. Let's get on with training so we can get back. I want to sleep sometime between my public humiliation and next round of heroics."

"Sure thing, Sifu."

Katara watched her student go through the first sixty movements, offering points for improvement and complimenting the things she had already adjusted since last night.

Iyuma was quick; she was picking up on nuances faster than Katara had. It made her feel a little jealous until she realized Iyuma was learning fast because Katara had struggled. Every pitfall her student faced now, Katara had dealt with in her time under Pakku, only she had had to do most of her perfecting on her own in tranquil solitude.

That horrible old man.

"That's enough for today," she finally said, not wanting to be stuck in her thoughts any longer. She folded her arms over her slightly tender chest and made for the steps.

Iyuma smiled and chatted as they walked. It was happier than Katara had ever seen her. In fact, it was infectious. She found herself smiling back more and more.

"Pawe is technically my aunt but we've always been close. Even though she's a lot older than me, she was never too grown up to play with me. Maybe because she never had kids of her own..."

They arrived back at the suite and found the healers mostly sitting on cushions around the table, a few reclining on the pallets arranged nearby. Their heads all snapped around as the door opened, and their eyes fixed on Katara.

She felt herself receiving the assessing scans she had grown so used to during her time in the infirmary.

"I'm fine," she huffed with a faint smile, rolling her eyes over to the only Fire Nation woman in the room - who was presently stowing discarded collars and the pilfered bolt cutters in a cabinet. "Sian, would you get us an early lunch, please? Noodles, maybe?"

She darted off, and in Katara's distraction, Iyuma took a seat at the table to talk with Pawe. She was a tall woman with cropped hair and, most noticeably - a detail Katara had spotted at once when she found her in that nook behind the kitchen of the Choy house - a belly rounded in the early stages of pregnancy.

Knowing better than to think too deeply about that at this moment, Katara looked for an open spot to sit... but there wasn't one. The table was crowded, and every cushion was taken. Nervous about hovering, she strode to the other room and quickly got cleaned up, changing into the loose lounge clothes she wore before bed.

When she returned, she was surprised to find the healers had made room for her.

"Sit with me, Princess Katara," said a round-faced woman whose braid hung so long it coiled on the floor behind her. There was much more gray at her temples than in that coil. Her smile was lined as if it had fallen out of use but was quickly regaining old territory. "I'm Ulka. And I would like very much to know how a Water Tribe girl winds up fighting in the resistance!"

Looking at these women, gathered this way and welcoming her among them, Katara realized where a part of her deep happiness was coming from; they reminded her so keenly of her own tribe. The elders and little ones, but especially the mothers. It warmed her deeply - but it also put a terrible ache in her chest, because she had come so very far from home. Would any of them even recognize her now?

And these women before her, what did they see when they looked at her?

"You know, I'm not really a princess," she found herself saying as she settled onto the cushion beside Ulka. "I'm the daughter of the chief, but the South Pole is just a small village. Princesses are more of a Northern idea. And I'm... really not like Princess Yue-"

Iyuma snorted into her teacup. The other women cast her side-eyes or ignored her.

"You can just call me Katara," she finished.

"Tell us about your village," another woman said before sipping her tea. She was older than the rest, mostly gray-haired and close to an elder if not quite old yet. Her placid expression gave nothing away.

So Katara did. She told them about Gran-gran and the mothers and elders and little ones, about the men all gone to war except Sokka, about Mina's fancy brunches. She pulled a little tea from her cup and demonstrated how she made the delicate ice flowers, and they were as delighted as the village women had been. They prodded and she talked about the various chores she used to do, the sewing and washing and cooking and preserving of food, and about helping Gran-gran with delivering babies and tending to injuries.

And suddenly, with these women watching her, their expressions turning thoughtful and soft, she realized she was showing them something they had been looking for. They were starting to really see her. Not just the warrior she had become, but the girl she had been. And they valued her.

"What a good girl you were," Ulka said with a mother's warm affection.

Women around the table nodded. Their eyes shone with the special pride reserved just for a dutiful daughter. Katara had forgotten how receiving that look felt - like a perfect parka, lovingly stitched and measured, lined in the softest fur.

"Yeah," Iyuma said, propping her chin on her fist. "You were a good girl. What went wrong, Katara?"

It startled a laugh out of her, and most of the women were smiling as well. Sian came in at that moment with a large bowl of noodles and a stack of bowls and there was a pause in the conversation as everyone got some hot food. Katara ate a few bites of spicy noodles and cabbage and marveled; this was the best meal she had tasted since coming to this stupid country.

Though perhaps the flavor came from the company. It was like sharing a meal in the communal igloo back home. All around her, women talked quietly, eating and smiling and sighing. Their sounds were a balm on her soul, a secure place she had subconsciously feared she could never return to.

"Are you betrothed?" asked one of the younger women who had scooted her pallet close for the meal and was presently leaning between people to place her emptied bowl back on the table. Her eyes caught on the necklace hanging from Katara's wrist, revealed now without the bracers she wore for training.

Katara chewed a last bite of noodles before speaking. "No - we don't actually do betrothal necklaces in the South..." She touched the carving, slid her thumb across the familiar lines. "This belonged to my mother. She was killed in a Fire Nation raid when I was little."

There were soft, sympathetic words. Warm hands settled against her shoulders. All around her was a gentle press of presence - like when she had sat in the spring and the water had hugged her so close, she had felt like a part of it. Katara felt that acceptance, that oneness with the women around her now. In the past, it might have brought tears to her eyes; they were from a different world from her own, but they were all united by their devastating personal losses at the hands of the Fire Nation.

But Katara didn't cry. Because instead of being simply touched, she felt the heady rush in her chest as the surge of power it was. Her pain over the loss of her mother wasn't gone - it was never really far from her heart - but her other hardships had joined it, had added their weight in the same way that a snowball rolling down a hill would gather more snow and ice until it was a massive, unstoppable thing.

Instead of bowing her head in memory and shedding a tear, Katara sat straighter and looked around the table at the faces of her people. And she smiled a sad-and-happy smile, because she saw a tiny flash of her mother in every one of them.

She had not been fast enough to save her mother, but she was fast enough now to save them. She was strong enough to carry them. She was smart enough to teach them.

She had been forged to face this moment, this fight, this changing world. It was her destiny.

"So what actually made you leave the South Pole?" Iyuma pitched out after a time.

Katara might have tried to come up with an excuse to avoid the question, but she didn't want to. It had been so good to visit this peace, the simple peace of being a good girl for the mothers, but she knew she couldn't stay here. She had grown too big for that perfect parka.

"Everything changed when my dad came to take Sokka to war..."

.


.

All morning, Zuko watched and waited for more royal guards to come to the villa, but they never appeared. He strode out to the gatehouse and assembled his own guards - the eleven remaining of the escort that had accompanied him to Harbor City and the twenty-odd more employed by Lord Gan - and in the hour before noon, he inspected them and made a speech about serving the Fire Lord as opposed to serving the Fire Nation.

There were some sideways glances and some anxious sweats, but by the end their eyes shone with pride. Their faces were set with new determination. Zuko was not a great orator and he didn't really have anything to offer them, but they all knew what he had done for his crew, what he was doing for the veterans in the city. He was young and idealistic - but so were many of them. And those that weren't so young found themselves... hoping.

But Zuko could not dwell on a minor success when a threat was probably marching toward him this very moment. He sent two of his personal attendants to act as runners. As he instructed them, they both had a similar wide-eyed look that he interpreted as fear at this unusual and perhaps dangerous duty, but it was in fact only excitement at being asked to do anything by their prince, who had so rarely had a use for them. He did not want a hot towel or a bowl of cherries held at just the proper height. He did not seem to ever want any service they could provide, except when Yotsu directed them to assist in some minor way with raiment or household tasks. Or that one time, when they had been sent to attend to the Avatar.

Now, as they trotted out past the gate, they shot each other beaming grins. This was more like it. This was the pride and honor they should feel when serving their prince.

The quiet of the villa was unsettling. Zuko forced himself to eat his lunch and then occupied himself with reviewing a few maps. One map in particular, large and gridded and spread over his tea table, he marked with careful red and green and blue dots and circles drawn with a compass. Precise locations were difficult to determine for such secret facilities, but Zuko just so happened to have the records and documents needed to make fair estimates.

He only hoped he could move fast enough when the time came. He would need to broach the subject with Katara soon... today...

But her fighting this morning had quickly grown so lackluster, he was starting to have second thoughts. Maybe she wasn't ready. Maybe he was overestimating her, like he had before the Agni Kai.

The very thought had him pacing his office. He couldn't allow that to happen again. He wouldn't. He had to be clear-sighted and realistic or he would get them both killed. He would get them all killed.

Machi came by shortly after midday to inform him that Katara's appetite had apparently improved dramatically. That was good news, one more worry off his list, so Zuko didn't really notice the suspicious furrow in his majordomo's brow.

"In fact," she went on, "the cook tells me her maid took her significantly more noodles than one tiny woman could possibly eat. And far more bowls than necessary."

"The Water Tribe is pretty communal. She's probably sharing meals with Iyuma and Loska."

"Hm," Machi said flatly, unconvinced. "Significantly more than three, your highness."

"Maybe it's a waterbender thing. She's training Iyuma."

"With noodles?"

Frowning, Zuko thought back to an embarrassingly brief fight at a noodle shop. A most shameful defeat.

"If it's wet, she can bend it," he assured Machi a little frostily.

"But in the sitting room?" she persisted. "Lord Gan's majordomo will pitch a fit if the floors become warped. Your highness, is there any way she could be convinced to take it outside?"

"I'll talk to her," Zuko said, straightening up so as not to hint at how reluctant he was to do that.

He didn't want to shatter the delicate progress he was making, and asking her to do something she may not want to do felt risky. Especially after this morning. He had stormed away, trying to put some distance between them so that he could cool off. He'd been so angry with her and even now, after a period of reflection, he was annoyed and troubled.

She could have been hurt.

Because she was being careless. Not tired - just not present. That's why she'd missed her block. Zuko had been restrained, had been in complete control, and he still could have hurt her because she was distracted by whatever it was that had been on her mind.

What could she possibly have been thinking about that would have her so out of it?

The look on her face had kept slipping, morphing into something... almost pleased.

When the tiny almost-smile had first appeared, Zuko had been tempted to think she was looking at him and nearly smiling and that this new phenomenon suggested she might be forgiving him on a larger scale. Maybe they had turned a corner!

It was a happy little delusion that lasted all of about ten seconds. Realistically, there was just no way. He hadn't done enough to earn her forgiveness - he hadn't even found the right moment to properly apologize yet - and she wasn't going to just let it go.

Besides, her eyes had watched him with the same half-attention one might direct toward an uninteresting conversation...

Which meant there was some other issue preying on her mind. She had received that note from Lady Gan - about flowers, she had said, but Zuko really doubted that was an accurate or complete representation. And now she was... noodle-bending with Iyuma in secret. Clearly, he was missing something...

Zuko puzzled over this as he strode the length of the house toward her suite. He didn't really want to pry into her... girl stuff. But this distraction was something important - Katara was thinking about it instead of training, and that wasn't safe - so he should probably try and figure out what it was.

He would just... subtly investigate under the guise of making a reasonable case for keeping bending in the courtyard.

Zuko could be subtle. No problem.