The low northern sun beats down on the airship, turning the air inside still and hot. Zuko shifts under his heavy armor in front of Katara's makeshift cell, a steaming bowl of jook in one hand and a teacup in the other. The steam wafts into his nose, leaving him feeling vaguely queasy (though whether that's the discomfort of airship travel or the nonsense the waterbender has been spouting he can't say).
"It's not treason if you win," Katara says, crossing her arms.
Zuko glares at her sourly. "For the last time, waterbender, I'm not interested. Joining the Avatar is not an option."
She scowls. "I'm not giving up on getting Aang out."
"Just eat your jook so I can get back to work."
"You could just have one of your soldiers bring me lunch," Katara says, eyebrow raised.
"What, and have one of them risk his life talking to you?" He snaps.
"Oh, like this is my fault." The waterbender turns away from him, and Zuko resists rolling his eyes at her back. "Your father is the one who can't handle other people having an opinion. Go away."
He does roll his eyes this time, and he drops the bowl of jook to the ground in front of her. She doesn't turn at the clunking noise, and Zuko sets the teacup next to the bowl and marches away. Still warm inside the airship despite the rapidly dwindling temperatures outside and the ice crystallizing into long tendrils on the outside of the small windows, Zuko tugs at his collar. It won't be long now, he knows, until the black soot pouring out of his ships and airships blankets the northern tundra. The Northern Water Tribe will know they're coming.
It won't be long now until he turns Katara loose on a lifeboat and sends her ahead of him, ahead of the black snow. Zuko stops, eyes tracing the icicles melting outside.
It occurs to him then for the first time that she knows the size of the fleet and at least some of his attack plans. Clenching his fists, Zuko braces himself for the possibility that he's about to turn over every advantage he has to his enemy. Uncle was right. He never thinks anything through.
Absently, his hand finds the cool stone at his wrist, and then his eyes widen.
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Two figures creep through thick forest, hardly a sound between them. One swings lightly about tree branches, flipping quickly through the air, and the other jogs below, not a hair out of place, breath steady. They stop at a river, engorged with spring snowmelt and rushing even in the shallows, buffeting trees and roaring in their ears.
"We're getting close," Azula says, looking up into the trees.
"Do you think they're beyond the river?" Ty Lee eyes the foaming water around some rocks and clutches her hands to her chest.
"Likely. We'll have to find the narrowest point. We'll continue south."
Ty Lee picks her way along the muddy banks, slipping in and out of trees and exposed roots. "I wish Mai were here."
"Mai has dinner parties to attend, Ty Lee. She's much too good to be mucking around in the mud like this."
Stopping abruptly, Ty Lee clenches her fists and allows her feet to sink in the cold muck. "Don't you miss her at all?"
Stepping lightly around her, Azula studiously inspects the rushing water ahead. "Don't be a goose, Ty Lee. Of course I care about Mai. And I'm sure that when she's ready, she'll come to us."
Ty Lee blinks large, shining eyes at the princess. "But you said she'd never leave the palace again!"
Azula's laugh is bright and clear. "Not as long as she's married to Zuzu, but really, how long do you expect her to last before she disposes of him?"
Ty Lee's hand flies up to cover her mouth. "Azula!" Her tone is nearly scolding, but the princess only turns back and looks at her steadily.
"I'll pardon her when I'm Fire Lord, of course. You don't need to look so scandalized."
"You've been provoking her!" Ty Lee cries.
Azula shrugs, turning away as her eyes cloud and a rumble across the river sends a quiver through the dirt under their feet. "Only a little. Zuzu has always been quite good at that on his own."
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His time in the cell is monotonous when Zuko, his only visitor now that General Iroh has disappeared, is gone. Aang takes care to tuck his hands into his dirtied saffron sleeves, torn and loosened from years of captivity, whenever the guards pass, but their appearance is rare. Rarer now that the Siege of the North (the second) has taken so many of them out of the rotation. Although none of them have ever spent much time with him, instead avoiding eye contact whenever possible, Aang can't help but notice he's alone more than usual lately. It's been a little too quiet since Zuko's last visit.
Chi-blocking tea arrives with his morning rations, per the Fire Lord's orders, but the guard spares him hardly a glance as he pushes the tray through the bars. Aang looks down at the tea, yellow like gingerroot and gently steaming, and then he looks out of his cell, down the hall, at the guard's hastily retreating back. Well, if the guard isn't going to watch him precariously bend double to slurp the tea, for once, then Aang may as well drink it like a normal person-
Unless he doesn't drink it at all.
Furrowed brows wrinkle the arrow on his forehead, now covered by a dark brown tangle of hair. Aang looks down at the cup, then back up at the bars of his cell. He is alone. Slipping one hand out of his sleeve, Aang picks up the small cup, then pours it out on the floor, as close to the wall as he can reach. It should, he thinks, be interesting to see how long it takes for yesterday's dose to wear off.
For the first time since his imprisonment, Aang feels a spark of real hope.
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Toph's arrival in the camp is loud, obnoxious, and many other things that make Sokka like her immediately.
Jet has gone, but Sokka thinks he still hears the foreboding thumping echoing in his skull as he tosses on his thin cot. Privately, he swears the earth is shaking with every heartbeat, and the rhythmic jolts set his teeth on edge. He's nearly convinced himself the thundering booms are actually outside his head when the ground outside his hut bursts open, sending dirt and grass and stone spraying around the Freedom Fighters' camp.
The smallest earthbender Sokka has ever seen stomps up from the hole in the ground as he staggers outside. "Look alive, Snoozles!" She shouts, a wicked grin breaking across her face. "I hate to interrupt your nap, but we've got places to be."
"I wasn't napping!" Sokka squawks, face heating.
Striding up to him with her chin thrown back and that wolfish grin still on her face, the earthbender crosses her arms over her chest. "Really? So you know there are two girls in the woods trying to sneak up on you?"
Sokka freezes. "Yeah!" he squeaks, completely in control of his voice. "I knew that."
The girl snorts and gestures to her tunnel. "You coming? I have to find some guy named Sokka Jet needs me to babysit."
All the blood that had flooded Sokka's face drains out. "You work with Jet?"
"Sure," she drawls. "When I feel like it. He's got a couple bolts loose."
"No kidding," Sokka mutters. "Look-"
The girl huffs and seizes him by the wrist, tugging him into the hole and closing it up after them. "Coming in hot," she grumbles, and Sokka frowns. "One of them is a firebender."
"Oh," Sokka says, suddenly grateful for the earthbender's impatience.
"So, Sokka. You know him? We have to find him before the camp burns down around him."
Sokka can't see a thing in the dim light, but her voice is only a few inches away. "He got away," he says, fighting to keep his voice neutral. Lucky thing she can't see his face.
A pause. "I can tell you're lying."
In short order, Sokka discovers that the girl is, in fact, blind, an earthbender, and occasional muscle for Jet. Her name is the Blind Bandit, formerly known as Toph, and she'll generously allow him to use her real name if he promises to read the stupid piece of paper Jet insisted she bring him, after she'd beaten Sokka into submission.
They're to meet him in the Fire Nation capital, she explains, for the Fire Lord's wedding. Sokka swears he can see her wrinkling her nose as she gripes about how much she hates weddings, and it might be endearing if he couldn't hear the crackling of the camp around them. Their little hole is warm from the fires above, and he can feel sweat trickling down his back as they wait for the girls to retreat.
"We could probably take them," Toph offers conversationally.
Sokka sighs. "It's Princess Azula and her bender-breaking friend. "Not worth the risk. Jet doesn't think he's coming back here anyway." He groans. "My space sword…" At least his tile is safely in his pocket.
If Toph is curious, she doesn't ask.
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Zuko towers over her, glowering. He shifts his weight jerkily, awkwardly.
"What do you want?" Katara snaps. "You're blocking the view."
Zuko raises an eyebrow. "You don't have a view."
"I did before I was looking at you," she says lightly, and she grins sardonically at her old enemy.
Zuko blows smoke from his nose. "Fine. I was going to do something nice for you, but-"
"You? Do something nice? For me?" Katara laughs. She pretends to wipe tears from her eyes as she cranes her neck back to look up at him. "Are you going to unchain me?" The chains that have replaced the rope chafe her wrists, and her arms have been tugged behind her for so long that her shoulders burn.
Zuko-she hates him-rolls his eyes. "No. Look, this isn't easy for me."
Katara believes him, stilted as he is now, a far cry from the imperious Fire Lord who has been stomping around the airship all day. Even so. "Why, because you're a spoiled prince too used to getting his own way?"
"I'm the Fire Lord," Zuko snaps," and I'm not spoiled."
"I thought you were just a glorified general," she taunts.
"Katara!" Zuko snaps, nearly shouting.
"Okay, mighty Fire Lord, I'm sorry for insulting you with such a lowly title."
"Will you shut up?"
The alertness of battle has flooded her system, and every nerve feels like it's on fire as she glares into his raging eyes. He's furious, barely keeping a hand on his temper; one wrong move and she knows he could easily burn her. This must be what a moth feels when it dives into a candle's flame-invincible, terrified, wild.
She takes a deep breath, willing the frenzy to slide away. "What do you want, Zuko," she sighs. "Just leave me alone."
"I brought you something," he says. Then his hand is extending toward her, and she suppresses a flinch before she realizes he's holding her mother's necklace.
She looks up at him, mouth agape. "You're giving it back? I thought-I mean-I didn't think you would still have it."
Zuko fidgets. "I always wanted to give it back to you. You said it was your mother's."
"It was." She itches to stroke the worn etching with the pads of her fingers. "This was all I had left of her."
"I lost my mother too," he offers, the fidgeting continuing as she studies the blue stone.
Katara's head jerks up. "I'm sorry."
"Me too."
He drops down to one knee in front of her and leans in, and Katara's breath catches. His arms suddenly form a cage around her face, and then rough fingers fumble with the clasp at the back of her neck, tangling briefly in her hair. And then he is gone, and she's left with an old stone and a worn ribbon around her throat. She wonders at the man who would bring an enemy's necklace to a battle.
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The candles on Zuko's desk flicker as he draws slow, even breaths. Rising and falling with his breathing, the fire casts uneven light on his face, carving out the shadows already purpling under his eyes. He hasn't slept in nearly two days, and though he's nearly ready to fall over, his mind races. They've crossed into the Northern Sea, near enough to the North Pole that the navy will have to watch for icebergs.
As they should have the last time they were this far north.
The fleet is unbeatable, Zhao snarled, lip curling away from his teeth. Uncle takes another sip of his tea as the steam wafts into the air. A beat.
Before destruction a man's heart is haughty, but humility comes before honor, Uncle intoned.
Zhao scoffed. I don't have time for proverbs, General Iroh. We'll be close enough to open fire by midnight.
Uncle raised an eyebrow. The waterbenders are stronger at night, Zhao-
Yes. Zhao smiled, and his smile had prickled at Zuko's spine the way his snarl had not. But I will soon have a solution to the moon problem.
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Aang wakes, curled up on his belly with his arms folded beneath him, the way he wakes every morning. He feels the sun touch his chi, the unfamiliar glow of energy warming in a way he hasn't felt in four years. He smiles, stretching his senses out into the cell. Suddenly, he can sense the condensation on the barred window and the sweat on his forehead and the humidity in the air-
"The Fire Lord ordered double the guard," a voice shouts, loud and strained.
"He hasn't moved," another voice says, laced with pleading.
"You got lucky," the first growls, and as Aang looks up, a guard throws open the door in front of the cell, peering in to glare at Aang. "You're staying here. I don't care what time it is. We can't risk him escaping."
Aang tunes out the rest of the argument, focusing instead on the feeling of the air around him. It fills his lungs and, though it's sluggish, it weaves around his body in the current from the open door. Breathing in, Aang savors the smell of the fresh air, and he prays for the guards to close the door, to leave him in peace. He wants to turn tornados on his fingers again.
He wants to fly.
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"Are you ready for this?" Zuko asks as he opens the chains.
Rubbing her wrists absently, Katara pushes herself to her feet. "I'll do what I have to if it means I'll save my people," she replies, meeting his eyes with a level stare.
Zuko almost smiles. "It's time to go." He leads her out of the airship, silent in the night's darkness, and they slip out to the firebending platform at the bottom of the ship. Katara walks to the end and inhales the chilled air before turning back to him.
"See you in a few days," she says, and Zuko likes to think she smiles at him before she jumps. Ice crystallizes at her command, and water whirls around her as Katara leaps off the airship. His stomach flies into his throat as he watches her, long braid snapping behind her in the dive. The ocean catches her halfway down, dipping down and then rising up again as she bends a small ice platform at the peak of the wave.
Then she's off, skating over the still surface of the water, and Zuko bows his head and closes his eyes, just for a moment.
There's nothing he can do now but to signal the ships to halt and anchor. She'll be back in three days with the Northern Water Tribe's answer, he reminds himself. She has always been honorable.
In the meantime, he knows he needs to sleep. A man needs his rest, Uncle would say, and if she does sell him out, he has to be ready. The navy will hold.
You have come to the crossroads of your destiny, Prince Zuko, Uncle said. It is time for you to choose.
He'd turned away. I have chosen, Zuko said. My father has accepted me. I have a home again. I have everything I always wanted, Uncle.
And then when the moon rose, the flagship peeled nearly the whole aft hull off on an iceberg that no one had seen. Zuko had tugged soldiers and crewman out of the icy waters for hours. Zhao came aboard with ice in his beard and cold fury in his eyes. And Uncle was gone.