WhIP

by footfungus

nederlands verhalen over mijn otp

155. Still waters - Zutara

still waters (are the deepest)

frozenlillys

Summary:

They all look a bit weary, a bit rough around the edges, a bit scared. But every single one of them has a look of determination on their faces, of the grim resolve that they will see this through to the end, no matter the cost. They will either emerge victorious or die fighting.

Anything less would not be fair to the world.

(Then again, why is it on them to save the world from tyranny? On a group of teenagers and barely adults? That isn't fair.

But the world has never cared about fairness. At least not in the last century, and fuck it, someone needed to make a stand rather sooner than later.)

—

Another smile. Another kiss. And as she lays there, wrapped up in Zuko's warmth, Katara remembers a saying: love is brightest in the dark. And here is the thing - times are dark; they are living through darkness. But she has found her light, and she will not let it go if it's the last thing she does.

—

or: the Water Tribes are hell-bent on revenge. Sokka flees with the Avatar in tow, committing treason. Katara, tasked with hunting her brother down, stands between her tribe and her family.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Reach, grip, control...

It feels exhilarating. The flow of the blood in her opponent's body, the terror in his eyes, the icy chill of the air around them. She grips tighter, pulls, and his body is thrown forward, limbs moving on their own. She can almost taste his fear. His arms move in unnatural gestures, almost as if they have a mind of their own, and she smiles. She's in control here and only she.

Exhilarating doesn't even do the feeling that flows through her body justice, no, it is more than that but she can't put it into words. So exhilarating would have to do.

She loosens her hold on him and he has to lean against the ice wall to not collapse. He sends her a look of fear, gripping his arm and trying to regain his breath. She doesn't blame him although she can't bring herself to care. The sweet feeling of absolute control, unlimited power is still too strong and it almost makes her dizzy. Her breath comes in uneven pants.

After one last look at the soldier, who is still fighting to regain control over himself, she turns and meets the icy blue eyes that she's worked so hard for to make them look at her in approval. And they do. Pride is shimmering in Hama's eyes as the old woman sends her a smile that sends shivers down her back. She's not sure why. "Perfect," Hama says. "As always, Katara. You truly are a master."

Blood, the red liquid that controls life and death. And she is its master.

She bows respectfully, long brown hair obscuring her vision for a moment. "Thank you, Sifu." She is about to say something else when she gets interrupted by a guard rushing into the arena made of ice and snow. "Princess. Lady Hama." He comes to a halt in front of them and bows. "My apologies, but Chief Tulek wants to see you immediately."

—

There was a light, they say.

A light so bright it outshone the brightest icebergs, a light so bright it rivaled the sun, a light so bright even Tui and La had to bow to it.

A light so bright it made her brother disappear.

Katara stands in the throne room made of ice glowing an eerie blue. She finds it soothing and listens to the faint noise of running water, to the buzz of ice crystals in the air, so impossibly delicate she almost can't hear it.

Almost. She'd do anything to drown out Tulek's voice, the man a disturbing presence in this safe haven of ice and peace.

"Katara? Katara, do you hear me?"

She forces herself to look at him, sitting on his throne, draped in blue and purple. "Yes," she says, "I heard you. Sokka's run into... complications." And she almost hisses that last word because how dare he call her brother disappearing complications. Sokka could be dead for all she knows, and Tulek speaks of complications. As if Sokka were just another statistic, just another soul lost to this war.

She wants to slap him. She wants to water-whip him. She wants to reach out with her senses and feel and pull and make him feel the pain that is currently spreading from her chest to her entire body, making her almost numb but only almost so that she can still feel every nerve in her body screaming in pain, every thought in her head writhing in agony.

Her mother. Her father. Her Gran-Gran.

Not Sokka, not him, not the last she has left of her family, not now, not ever, she won't allow it, she cannot allow it, if she does, then who is she, if she does, then she will never be able to look in the mirror again, if she does, she will lose her last shred of sanity, she will lose herself and never find herself again, she simply cannot-

"Let me look for him."

Her voice interrupts Tulek's useless talk about how sorry he is and that the tribe will grief for two weeks, her tone cool and collected. He looks at her, seemingly surprised and confused all at once.

"Katara, I know this is hard for you, but-"

"Let. Me. Look for him." And this time, she hisses the words to make him understand just how serious she is.

His expression darkens. "I'm afraid I cannot allow that."

That was an expected answer but she doesn't care. She cannot care, not right now. She takes a deep breath and holds his gaze, her eyes hard and unfliching. "There was a light, right? A bright light breaking out of the ice. And then my brother disappears? That can't be coincidence. There's something going on, and I want to find out what."

"I have already given the orders to investigate the source of that light. A ship is being prepared as we speak."

Good. Even better for her purposes. "Then let me on that ship."

"Katara, no. You know the rules."

"This is my brother-"

"And there are rules our tribes have followed for centuries! We cannot simply break them for a girl's foolish hope!"

She should be mad. She should be furious. She should kill him for his words right now, make his heart explode so that he can feel even a fraction of the pain she is currently experiencing.

But Katara doesn't do any of that.

Instead, she feels a cold focus grip her, the shivers running down her back flowing through her icy veins in determination.

She is a master waterbender. And this is her brother they are talking about. She has lost too much to simply allow Tulek, chief of the Southern Water Tribe, to stand in her way.

And so Katara steels herself, basking in the power that comes with her element surrounding her.

"Let me on that ship."

Notes:

So, this is something I have started working on in late 2020 and abandoned, then came back to it, and, you guessed it, abandoned again. Rinse and repeat about a hundred times to get the result: something I have spent countless hours on and that, for some reason, just won't let me go.

90% of this thing is already written and edited, the other 10% are coming along smoothly and I have a lot - and I mean it, a lot - of buffer between now and whenever we'll come to the end scenes I haven't written out yet, so the posting schedule for this should be fairly regularly, about once per week. Posting the first chapter directly after the prologue so enjoy!

This will be a Zutara story with a focus on them (and a slow burn at that), but I'm also giving the other characters their time to shine, so this won't be strictly romance but also gen, exploring a world where the Water Tribes are the last true stronghold against the Fire Nation.

Am not quite sure how I'll break up the chapters but I think it'll be about 30, give or take.

Chapter 2: One

Chapter Text

Sokka is a planner. Whatever life throws at him, he has a plan. When Katara accidentally shattered an expensive vase while playing hide-and-seek when they were little, he knew what to do to not get them in trouble. When the sails of his ship wouldn't catch the wind, he knew how to fix them. That's him. Sokka, the guy with the plans.

But he truly has no idea what to do now. He is entirely out of ideas, leaving his brain feeling empty. How has he even gotten into this situation? This ridiculously impossible situation. Just this morning, he had gone out for a fishing trip. Just like every other day. Not that he had needed the fish, there is plenty of food on the ship, but going fishing is always great for calming the mind. It's his ritual. His thing. But then everything went to hell when he'd accidentally bumped into that iceberg, causing a few pieces to fall off. While he was busy trying to not get hit, a light had emerged from deep beneath the water's surface, and with it an entirely new iceberg. Since when do icebergs just randomly appear? He'd studied them, just like every other natural phenomenon in the cold lands of the South. Icebergs don't work like that.

But this hadn't been a normal iceberg. This one contained a boy with glowing eyes and strange tattoos and then it cracked open and spit him out like Sokka does Gran-Gran's medicine. And with him a beast bigger than anything he's ever seen before and with six legs. What animal has six legs? And to make everything worse, the boy - the teenager - hadn't even seemed fazed by it. He had looked around in curiosity, a large stick in one hand, and then blabbered on about how he had always wanted to visit the South Pole and how it was just as beautiful as the other monks had said. Other monks?

There are no monks. Everyone knows that. Not since...

And this is when Sokka had taken in the boy's appearance. A bald head, arrows on his light skin that turned blue once the glowing had stopped, and robes in such bright colors it almost blinded him. For a few moments, he had been out of words. And Sokka is never out of words. Never.

Then the teenager had stopped going on and on and on about how he couldn't wait to go penguin sledding and looked at him, grey eyes wide in confusion. "What? Is something wrong with my- oh you've probably never seen a sky bison before! Let me introduce you - wait, what's your name?"

Sky bison? They went extinct a hundred years ago. Sokka's moment of unfamiliar speechlessness lasted longer than he now likes to admit so the only thing he had been capable of saying was his name.

"Well, Sokka, nice to meet you! I'm Aang! And this is Appa - Sokka, Appa. Appa, Sokka. Man, buddy, you must be tired." He had been speaking to the bison. An animal. Animal, as in 'not-capable-of-understanding-human-language'-animal. But that thing had grumbled something that sounded almost like agreement as if it could understand the boy - Aang.

"That storm was rough, huh? Glad we made it." Storm? What storm? The last one was weeks ago. And this is when Sokka regained his ability to speak and told Aang that he didn't know what he was talking about. Aang had furrowed his brow. "But when I came here from the Southern Air Temple, there was this big storm. Like, really really big. It was bad. The last thing I remember is Appa losing-" He had abruptly stopped then and got this weird look in his eyes that Sokka really didn't like.

And this is when it hit Sokka like a boomerang.

Southern Air Temple. Sky bison. Arrow tattoos. Yellow and orange robes. The 'other monks'.

"Are you an airbender?" He needed to know. Still does, in fact. There was no time to be polite or considerate, no matter how many times his mother had told him not to go around and ask strangers random questions.

"Why, yes," Aang had said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Have you never met one before? I know we kind of stick to our temples but I'm sure I can arrange for you to meet some of my friends!" He had been smiling so brightly, it could have made the stars in the sky jealous. Then his entire demeanor had changed from almost ecstatic to worried and confused at such a fast speed, Sokka had been anxious about getting whiplash. "But if you can't remember the storm and I can't remember what exactly happened..." He had taken a look behind him at the cracked iceberg he had jumped out of and Sokka could see the anxiety in him rise.

Then he had gotten real quiet. Like, really quiet.

Sokka had poked further. And Aang suddenly hadn't been as keen to talk to him as just a mere minute ago. So he had done one of the probably most stupid things in his life: He told Aang to get on his bison and fly them to dry land.

So this is how he ended up on the coast of one of the southern islands of the Earth Kingdom. At least no one could say that he lacked in making decisions.

It seemed right at the moment. Because Aang just practically told him that he's an airbender when everyone knows that all the airbenders are dead. And his tribe... they have ideas. Certain ideas.And he's not sure how they would take Aang's appearance. But he couldn't just leave him there, not after what he's seen. He doesn't know much about the Air Nomads, nobody does, except the Fire Nation of course and he won't go as far as to believe them but glowing eyes and tattoos and being spit out by an iceberg sending a light brighter than anything he's ever seen into the sky... that does not seem normal. So of course he had and has his suspicions and just had to act on them. He's a fast thinker after all. Because whether or not those are true, the fact that Aang - spirits, even his name doesn't sound Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom and certainly not Water Tribe - is an airbender, a fucking airbender, is reason enough to investigate further. Because that just shouldn't be possible.

He watches Aang talk quietly to Appa a few meters away from where he's sitting around the fire. A shiver makes its way down his back that has nothing to do with the island being so close to the South Pole. He doesn't have a plan. Or, well, he does but it consists of asking Aang one particular question and he's got nothing beyond that. So that doesn't really count. Everyone knows what happened a century ago. Everyone. But the legends only said that he had disappeared so that doesn't exclude the possibility of him appearing again. Could it really be...?

"Aang." The boy in question turns his head. They haven't talked much during the flight on Appa - one of the strangest things he's ever done, riding on a flying bison -, Aang was sitting on Appa's head, holding the reigns and staring out into the vastness that was the cold southern sea and Sokka was too deep in thought to stir up a conversation. Not that Aang seemed like he wanted to chat. Gone was the happy boy who couldn't shut up about penguins and snowball fights, replaced by someone with great weight on his shoulders and anxiety deep under his skin. He's used to mood swings from Katara but never to this extent. This is something else. "I need to ask you a question."

Aang turns further, now facing him fully, and comes to sit across from him by the fire, golden flames highlighting the contours of his face. "Sure. What's up?" He sounds uncertain and Sokka really hates to be so blunt - even though he normally never has a problem with that, it brings the point across and doesn't waste time - but he just needs to know. Needs to know the answer to that one particular question like he needs the air to breathe and his boomerang to feel whole. So he takes a deep breath and asks, "Are you the Avatar?"

Sokka holds the teenager's gaze and his breath, waiting for an answer. It's quiet for a few moments, only the crackling of the flames and the calm splashing of the waves disturbing the heavy silence growing between them. The boy across from him looks away, unable to meet his eyes and this is all Sokka needs to know. He breathes out. "Wow." And just like that, he is speechless for the second time in just a few hours. He has a feeling this won't be the last time either.

"I ran away. From home, I mean." The Southern Air Temple. Not far from here. "And then I got into this storm over the sea and... the next thing I know is waking up and seeing you." Aang shrugs. "But I don't know how long ago that was. Feels like only a few days." Oh boy. "It was stupid, I know. Running away like a little kid. But I was just so fed up with everyone and they wanted to send me away and keep me from all my friends... I'm sure they're worried." He finally looks up, determination now clearly written across his face. "I need to go back. I can't just disappear." He stands up, brushing dirt off his clothes, and takes a few steps towards Appa.

"No, wait," Sokka calls out to him because if Aang were to go back to the Southern Temple now, all he'd find is ghosts and not the people he expects. And he doesn't know how old the airbender is but he just looks so young and even a bit scared and Sokka can't let him go like that, can't let him find out the horrors of the past like that. "There's something that I need to tell you."

Aang shoots him a look of confusion mixed with worry but sits back down, folding his legs under him. There's no sense in hiding the truth from him. Sooner or later, he'll find out anyway. "Do you know what year it is?" The monk shakes his head and Sokka can feel the tension in his shoulders. "It's early spring of 100 AG."

"AG?"

"After Genocide." It's quiet for a moment. Too quiet. "Genocide?" Aang is careful not to let any emotion show in his grey eyes but he can't stop the terror from creeping up in his voice. Sokka can hear it perfectly. "Genocide of who?"

This is it, this is the hardest part. Sokka would rather be anywhere else in the world and would rather do anything else than have this conversation but someone has to be the bearer of bad news. Only that 'bad news' is the understatement of the century. And no, he won't make a pun out of this because even he has standards.

"Of the Air Nomads." He swallows hard and waits for a reaction. And waits.

And waits. And waits.

He doesn't know the boy across from him apart from the fact that his mood swings are worse than those of a girl on her period (even though he has learned his lesson not to say that around Katara - or any woman, ever. But especially not Katara). So he doesn't know what to expect and how Aang would take those news. But he would have thought that he would start to cry or get angry or not believe him. He's not sure how someone is supposed to react to the news that his entire people were murdered. He's never done this before and he hopes he'll never have to do it again. But he knows that this is not how most people would react. Or at least he thinks it is. It's certainly not what he expected.

Aang stares at him for a few moments that stretch into an eternity. Those big eyes of his show no hint of emotion and it's starting to creep Sokka out. But he holds his gaze like the brave warrior he is because he will not falter. He has to be strong now, even if it is for a total stranger - although that stranger is no one less than the Avatar. Then, finally, he gets up and goes to sit a few meters away from him on the sandy beach, staring out into the ocean.

Sokka watches the dancing flames for a few seconds. He has absolutely no idea what to do. The tiger seal is out of the bag now and he can't take any of it back, even if he wanted to. And for a moment he wishes he hadn't told him of this horrible, horrible thing that happened to his race but there just isn't a way around it. So he gathers his courage like the prince he is and goes to sit beside Aang. They look out onto the calm sea together for a minute before the teenager speaks. "Why?" His voice is quiet and Sokka has to strain his ears to hear it. "Just why would someone..."

"I don't know. Not really, I mean. I don't think anybody really knows because, well, that was a century ago and..." He trails off. There are things that the Fire Nation says. And now most of the Earth Kingdom also says those things. But he isn't sure what to believe because the Fire Nation isn't particularly known for their honesty. Or at least not for what Sokka counts as honesty. But it can't get much worse than it already is. "Fire Lord Sozin said that the Air Nomads wanted to take over the world. He said that they had an army ready and-"

"The Air Nomads don't have an army!" Aang interrupts angrily, now showing the first hint of emotion ever since this horrible conversation started. "We're pacifists! We don't want to hurt or kill anybody and we certainly don't want to take over the whole world!"

Called it. The Fire Nation is a liar. Not a big surprise. "Well," Sokka starts, "it's the Fire Nation who wants to take over the world now. They colonized most parts of the Earth Kingdom. We're on Fire Nation territory right now, in fact." Only that this doesn't make a difference because no one lives on this island anyway. "They also tried to take over the Water Tribes. But we stuck together, the North and the South. So I'm guessing he killed the airbenders to maybe make colonizing the world easier? I read that the Avatar - you, I guess - disappeared a hundred years ago. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with that."

But no, he doesn't know why exactly the Air Nomads had to die. The Water Tribes are isolated and it's not like the Fire Nation will share their scrolls of the events that really took place, free from all propaganda. Hell, he doesn't even know much about the Avatar himself. He didn't even think he would ever reappear. For so long now, he was just simply gone. Hiding deep under the sea, encased in ice. The only thing he did know is that something so utterly terrible had happened that people a century later still don't like to talk about it.

Aang draws his legs up to his chest and presses his face against his knees. "I left them. They were all alone," he mutters and Sokka's heart almost breaks at the sadness in his voice. "I should have been there."

Sokka shakes his head even though Aang can't see him anyway. "No. You running away saved your life. Do you really think you could have stood a chance against an army of firebenders on the day of Sozin's Comet?" This gets a reaction out of the monk. He looks up and shoots him an angry look but Sokka knows it isn't anger at him that Aang feels.

"I'm the Avatar! I'm meant to help people! How can I bring balance to the world if I can't even protect my people?"

"It's not your fault. You're a kid. It just simply wasn't fair."

"Of course it wasn't fair. None of this is fair!" Aang shouts and makes a motion that resembles someone grabbing at their hair in anger. "They shouldn't have killed the airbenders just for wanting to colonize. They shouldn't spread lies like that! They shouldn't..." He stops and breathes deep in and out. No one speaks for a few minutes. "So you're telling me that I've been asleep for a hundred years?" Aang finally asks, calmer now.

"I guess so. So you really don't remember anything about that storm?" Sokka asks, curious as to how it is possible to be trapped in an iceberg and survive.

"Well, I remember Appa crashing into the sea because the winds were so strong. We were underwater and I couldn't breathe or see anything and then there was this glow around me and I felt weird and then... nothing. Just you. Feels like it was only a few days ago." Huh. Interesting.

"Is this an Avatar-thing or an Air Nomad-thing?" It's a stupid question but he is totally out of his depth here. Science? Geography? Engineering? Swordplay? He is good at all that. Spiritual Avatar stuff? Not so much.

"An Avatar-thing, I guess. I don't really know. I've never heard of one doing that before. I guess it was for self-preservation. If I wouldn't have done that - whatever I did - I don't think I would have made it."

"And how long have you known that you're… well the reincarnation of some spirit?" he probes further, unable to hold back his questions any longer. This is the Avatar right next to him. The freaking Avatar, savior of the world, bringer of peace and balance. And he is sitting here with him on this abandoned island, talking to him and being so much younger than Sokka would have expected him to be. A part of him still thinks he's dreaming, although the aching pain in his chest that comes from having to tell someone everyone they know is dead says otherwise.

"A few months. The council of elders told me when I turned sixteen. Apparently they gave me toys when I was little that had some connection to all the Avatars before me and I chose the right ones."

"So do you have any training in bending the other elements?"

Aang looks sheepishly at the sand beneath them. "Uhm... well, no. They wanted to send me to the Eastern Air Temple to work on my connection with the spirits and past lives and then to masters all over the world to teach me. But that was before I... but I'm great at airbending!" He looks up at that with a shy smile. "They say that I'm one of the youngest masters ever. They call me a prodigy." Sokka doesn't dare to comment on the younger boy's use of the present tense and instead lets his thoughts wander in another direction.

Katara. They also call her a prodigy. He has a feeling Aang and her would get along. He can already see it - Katara with her motherly instinct that she developed after what happened with their own mother, comforting him and talking about their elements. She is so much better at calming someone down than he is. But Katara isn't here, so Sokka will have to do.

Right. Katara isn't here. The uncomfortable sensation of guilt rises in him. He left her. The men on his ship don't know what happened to him and when they return home, they'll come with the news of a missing prince. He's seen Katara after they lost their parents. Spirits, he felt it himself. Awful doesn't even remotely begin to cover how the hole in his chest had felt. Still feels, on bad days.

But he knows what the Water Tribe wants to do with the Avatar. He's seen their plans, heard Chief Tulek talk to him about it during dinner and discuss it with Bato and other tribesmen. Destroy the Fire Nation and its colonies. Leave no one alive. Rid the world of the pest that is firebenders. Dispose of all the traitors in the Earth Kingdom. No matter the cost.

But when he looks at Aang, who is really still just a kid, he can't imagine him killing anybody. Or, he can. Everyone has to do what they have to to survive. What he really can't imagine is him being used by the tribes. No one should be used as a killing machine. No one. He's traveled a fair amount around the world. Not everywhere and certainly not to the Fire Nation, but he's no stranger to the Southern Earth Kingdom. And he's met the people there and they are just that - people. Trying to live their lives and not let it be consumed by the war. They don't deserve to die. They're not traitors. Like he already said - everyone has to do what they must to survive. And for some, that is not fighting but yielding in hopes of coming to an agreement.

Sokka loves his tribe and his sister tribe in the north (even though they can be condescending assholes at times) - how could he not? They're his family. But that is the problem. The only people worth saving in the tribe's opinion are the people that belong to it and no one else. And Sokka just doesn't share this narrow-minded view because there is so much more to the world than just the poles.

Keeping them away from Aang is the right decision. It's hard, he doesn't deny that, but he's not one to run away from problems. So this is when a plan starts forming in his head. Or maybe not a real plan and more of an idea of what to do next, but it's a start. "We need to find you teachers for the other elements," he tells Aang decisively. "Just air isn't enough."

"Well, yeah. Do you know anybody that could teach me?"

Katara. But even if they could somehow get to her - and they can't because sneaking into the capital is impossible -, he knows how she thinks. What shethinks. So she isn't an option. He doesn't know how they could get in contact with any other waterbender - the tribespeople isolated themselves a hundred years ago and have stuck to the poles ever since. And he doesn't even want to think about finding a teacher for firebending. But locating someone that can train Aang in earthbending - that shouldn't be so hard. They're in the Earth Kingdom after all.

So once again, Sokka starts working out a plan.

—

"So why exactly are we going to the Earth Kingdom and not the Southern Water Tribe?" Aang turns his head from where he's sitting on Appa's head to look at Sokka. "I mean, it's closer. And I was already there when you found me, so…" he trails off, tilting his head. Sokka sighs for what feels like the hundredth time in not even a day. They made camp for the night on the island and then went on their way in the morning. He notes that Aang is not an early riser. Neither is Sokka but they don't have the time to lounge around all day. "It's complicated." It feels like a lot more time has passed since he's found the Avatar but it's barely been twenty-four hours. Crazy.

"Complicated how?" Complicated as in they-want-to-kill-most-of-the-population-off but he's not sure if he should tell Aang that so freely. Having the Avatar as an enemy? He doesn't even want to imagine that. And it's not like his tribe is evil. They're just very... narrow-minded. Truth is, he doesn't know Aang. Not yet. So he's not entirely sure how to tread around him and how his temper is. But he also knows that avoiding questions just leads to suspicions. He doesn't want that. "Well, let's just say they would... I'm not sure how they would treat you."

Grey eyes widen. "You think they would imprison me? Or kill me?"

The wind blows past them and Sokka suppresses a shiver. It's cold up here and his stomach still isn't used to the new sensations that come with flying. He's glad they haven't had much to eat this morning, what with neither of them having any supplies and the vegetation being scarce on the island with its close proximity to the South Pole, and the fact that spring is just beginning. "I don't wanna take any chances."

"But they've gotta know that the Avatar's back! And I've only heard good things about the Water Tribes. I'm sure we could talk to them."

Oh boy. That's a lot to unpack. Never mind the fact that they already are well on their way to the Earth Kingdom and turning around now to get to the South would take longer than it would to arrive at their current destination.

"Aang, look, I don't wanna stomp on any toes here but... you've been gone for a hundred years. Things have changed," he says carefully. "And don't get me wrong!" he adds quickly upon seeing the look Aang sends him. "I love my tribe but there are also a lot of bad things. I'm not sure how much talking can do in this situation."

"Then how have they changed?" comes the reply.

Another cold breeze and it's somehow even worse up here. At least on solid ground, the winds aren't this strong. Sokka notes how Aang is only in his thin robes and doesn't seem to mind the cold. He'll have to ask him about that later. Like, when he's not about to tell the last airbender that the world he knew doesn't exist anymore and that it's basically all chaos now. He leans forward and folds his hands in his lap in an attempt to gather a bit more warmth. "Well... how was your life back at the Air Temple?" To explain to Aang how exactly things have changed, he has to know how they were in the first place. The boy turns around to face Sokka, still sitting on the giant creature's head and holding the reins. Grey eyes wander towards the sky in thought.

"It was great! We had those really big apple trees that you could only reach by flying up to them and there were also stables with Sky Bison. And Monk Passang made the best fruit pies in the whole Southern Air Temple! The other boys always used to tease me about our names sounding so similar and me not being able to cook or bake anything - and I mean it, I'm truly terrible at it." Well, then they have one thing in common. "And we used to meditate a lot and it really calms the mind; I don't know if other nations do this but it's great! Although sitting still for that long can be pretty hard, but once you get into that mind-space, it's easy. The other boys and I also used to play hide-and-fly a lot. And then I invented the air scooter and let me tell you, things got a lot funnier after that..." He babbles on about the games that he used to play with his friends and Sokka feels a twinge of sadness. They're all dead now.

But Aang seems happy to be sharing some of his culture. "I got my tattoos at fifteen - they show that you've reached the thirty-sixth level of airbending and that means that you're a master. At the time, I was actually only at the thirty-fifth level but due to my invention of the air scooter, I got them earlier. They're supposed to depict the body's chi paths." He trails a finger down his arm where blue ink meets pale skin. Those will become a problem if they're supposed to travel undercover. He'll have to get Aang clothes that cover them up.

"So where were your parents?" Sokka realizes too late that maybe reminding Aang of his parents isn't the best idea but the teenager doesn't seem to mind and only shrugs, yellow robes fluttering in the wind. "I don't know. We don't really have parents."

He can feel his eyebrows going up to meet his hairline. "But everyone has parents. That's… how population growth works."

"Yeah, I know, but we don't really have that concept. We all grow up together, everyone is raised by everyone. You know that phrase? It takes a temple to raise a child? It was like that." Yes he does, although he knows it under 'it takes a village'. "Monks and Nuns don't live together, you know? We monks live in the Southern and Northern Air Temples and the nuns in the Eastern and Western ones. And once a year, there would be a few weeks where the adults would travel to the other temples and... well, uhm, then there would be babies a few months later in autumn." He shrugs.

It's a strange concept to Sokka. Not having parents? He can't even imagine that, certainly doesn't want to. It seems unnatural.

"But we had teachers," Aang continues, "and I guess you can count those as kind-of-parents. We were all taught together but eventually, everyone would find a teacher that you like and trust the most. And that was Monk Gyatso to me." His eyes light up at the mention of his mentor's name. "He's the wisest man I've ever known! And he used to teach me by blowing fruit pies at the other monks and he'd also give me laughing exercises to develop my bending and he was always telling jokes, oh and..." He goes on and on about how Monk Gyatso was apparently a great man and Sokka lets him because it makes Aang happy and after the traumatic awakening he's just had, he deserves some happiness, some relief from the cruel world. And also, Sokka likes hearing about this culture, this mystery that has been gone for a hundred years.

"I also traveled a lot. The Fire Nation was my favorite place because they just have the most amazing fruits - seriously, you gotta try them some time, it's heaven. And my best friend lived there! His name was Kuzon. We used to..." And another tirade about an old friend. No one could ever tell Aang that he's too shy or too quiet. It feels strange, hearing someone talk about having friends from the Fire Nation. Or, like now, visiting the Earth Kingdom and another friend named Bumi. Sokka's whole life has been restricted to the Water Tribes. Sure, he's traveled, but that was always with other tribesmen and only in the name of the tribe. It's always been Water Tribe language, Water Tribe customs, Water Tribe food...

He realizes that Aang grew up in a completely different time than he did. A time of peace where you didn't have to worry about the next attack and where travels were actually for entertainment rather than to gain some insight into the enemy's strategies. The concept is so strange, so foreign to him, that he can't even comprehend it. He knows that this isn't going to be easy but hearing about just how fundamentally different things were a hundred years ago... oh boy. He swallows.

"And what about you?" Sokka hears Aang's voice and looks up to meet his curious gaze. "How are things now? Have you ever been to the Fire Nation? I have to say, I love my home and everywhere is pretty, but the Fire Nation has the most beautiful nature. You have to go sometime! Maybe we can go there to look for a firebending teacher?"

He'd rather not. "Well... no. I've been to the Northern Water Tribe and the Southern one, obviously, and to some parts of the southern Earth Kingdom but other than that... no."

Aang furrows his brow. "That's sad. You should travel more! You get to meet so many new people and they're all really nice!"

"Uhm... do you remember what I told you last night?" Sokka probes, a little unsure. He hates to steer this conversation into more pessimistic directions but it has to be done. And just like that, Aang's face darkens. Ah, there it is. He was wondering where that grief from last night was ever since they woke up this morning and the airbender acted like nothing was wrong. He nods and Sokka explains further. "We're at war now. The Water Tribes and some parts of the Earth Kingdom against the Fire Nation and… other parts of the Earth Kingdom. That are technically Fire Nation now. Traveling just for fun really isn't an option anymore. Or meeting new people from other nations." He lets his gaze roam around, over the edge of the wooden saddle and over the blue ocean that is barely visible from up here in the thin air.

"So that's what's different," he hears Aang's voice, low for once.

They sit in silence for a minute before Sokka forces his eyes back onto the boy sitting in front of him who is staring at his lap. "Look, I know it's hard to understand. But the world you knew just... isn't there anymore. It's darker now. More dangerous. And I wish I could just take you to the Southern Tribe and the Fire Nation and La knows where, but I can't. A hundred years is a long time."

Aang doesn't answer for a few moments. "There were rumors," he finally mutters after a silence that felt like an eternity, still looking down. "Rumors about an upcoming war. Fire Lord Sozin colonized a few parts of the Earth Kingdom. But he only did it to share some of the Fire Nation's wealth, they said... There was a fight between him and Avatar Roku. A few years before I was born, of course. And then he apparently started some propaganda against the Air Nomads. I've heard some council members talk about it and when I asked Gyatso, he seemed concerned. And I've never seen him concerned before." He finally looks up. "It wasn't all peaceful. There were conflicts. And now those conflicts evolved into a war. A hundred years you say?"

Sokka nods. "This year marks the 100-year-anniversary." Not that that's any reason to celebrate. Except for the Fire Nation of course.

Aang visibly swallows before drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face between his legs. "And I didn't do anything to stop it."

Oh no. Now they're going in that direction again. And things were going so well just a few minutes ago. Sokka moves closer to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. You didn't know. There was nothing that you could have done." The silence hangs heavy between them. He can't imagine feeling like that. Like you failed the whole world by not preventing a war that cost so many people their happiness and destroyed lives.

And in a way, Aang did. If you looked at facts and facts only. He had disappeared for a selfish, childish reason. Wasn't able to fight Sozin due to it. And then everything descended into chaos. It's a tragedy, really. But then again - Aang is sixteen years old. No sixteen year old should have to worry about saving the world. Not even the Avatar. And what would there have been that he could have done? He wouldn't have been able to fight an entire army, let alone convince Sozin when the Fire Lord's mind had already been made up. Greed and power always get the best of people. Always. Add to that years of propaganda and an angry nation... it would have been an impossible task.

No. Aang isn't at fault here.

Said boy finally raises his head. "I have to stop the Fire Nation. I have to restore balance to the world." There is a determination in his voice, one that wasn't there before, not even yesterday when he received the most gruesome news of his entire life. There's something in his eyes that's different. There is no fury behind them, none of that barely controlled rage. Only grief and the will to make things right.

—

Blood pounds in his veins, fast and wild. It's impossibly hot and she almost thinks that she likes this warmth surrounding her, feeling it in her own body, but then he's fighting back and her grip falters. No. It's not him that's fighting. It's his blood. It's giving her everything it has, slipping from her reach, retracting, running, pouring. She concentrates harder; pain rises up in her head, spreading from behind her eyes to her temples.

But she will not falter, won't fail, won't give up this easily.

She grips tighter, gaining back control, and pushes. The pain in her head gets worse so that she has to press her mouth into a thin line to be able to ignore it. Despite the black dots popping up in her vision and slowly growing, all she can see is red. His red, her red, all red. A strange feeling runs through her body, down from her head over her chest and to her toes. It's new, she's never felt like this before and she's not sure if she likes it. It feels forbidden. Like no human is ever supposed to feel like this. There are voices but she can't hear them, can't understand them; there is only her and this strange, new sensation.

Only her and this feeling.

Only her and this feeling.

Only her and this... she can feel his terror, the primal fear, that is always lurking at the edge of consciousness and brought out by her. By her and her only. She is the one causing this, she is the reason for his suffering, she is-

This is her doing. This is because of her.

Her control falters, the range of her reach gets smaller and smaller, the red liquid fights back harder and harder and there are screams and her head explodes in white pain and then-

Katara sits up, hand on her throat, gasping and panting. The ceiling above her is impossibly dark just like the night sky had been that day and she panics, no,she can't be there, not again, she's-

Then she realizes where she is.

There are no windows in her cabin and it's pitch black but she can feel the pull of the moon, urging her outside. The hand on her throat fiddles with the pendant around her neck for a few seconds while she's catching her breath before getting up and opening the door. The hallway is empty, just like she expected, and Katara is grateful that no one is there to see her in this state. She makes her way through the hallway, up the stairs, and through another one, before finally opening up a door to be greeted by a light breeze and the smell of sea salt.

The deck is empty save for a few soldiers patrolling but they don't acknowledge her as she walks past them to a calmer spot where she won't be watched. The metal on her hands is cool as she grips the railing and leans against it but she doesn't mind. She's always liked the cold.

Katara bathes in the moon's ethereal glow, staring up at it and then down at the dark sea that houses so many mysteries, gives life and death all the same. The water tucks at her veins and every fiber in her being, the sensation heightened by the moon, begging her to bend it and wield it like the deadly weapon it is, but she doesn't follow her element's call. Not tonight. Instead, she is content to just let the breeze ruffle through her dark locks and close her eyes to hear the soft crashing of the waves.

Golden eyes unnaturally widened in horror, mouth open in a silent scream-

She opens her eyes and grips the railing until her knuckles turn white. Her heart is pounding in her chest, pumping that through her body. A shiver runs down her spine.

When she looks around she can see what she saw that night. Glowing stars up in the sky, dancing next to the moon, the darkness around her almost unnatural and yet so fitting. It unnerves her but she pushes the fear back into the deepest corners of her mind. She did what she had to. It was a good thing, necessary for survival. There was no place for doubt or hesitation. Control was the only thing that mattered, is the only thing that matters.

She takes deep and calm breaths, in and out, in and out. The fact that she still has nightmares about something so inevitable, something that happened years ago, unsettles her. Why is she like this? Why can't she just shove the feeling back down and go on with her day? Why does she have to wake up, drenched in her own sweat, with bile rising up her throat and a silent scream on her lips?

Why is she so weak?

But Katara is not weak. She knows it. Everybody else knows it. So she acts like she's fine, like that night doesn't haunt her at the time when she should feel safest and at her most powerful.

A wave crashes against the side of the ship and droplets of water sprinkle down on her nose. She forces her thoughts in another direction.

She's had to fight Tulek tooth and nail to even get here. Women are not meant to be on ships, he had said, they bring bad luck. She snorts. He could be such an idiot.

Only the fact that she's a princess and the daughter of the respected Hakoda and that Sokka was her brother had convinced the stubborn chief to give her a ship and a crew and permission to sail the ocean. Despite her urges, even she couldn't just kill the chief to get what she wanted, all that would have brought her is a vacation in an ice cell. Woman or not, if she couldn't find her own brother, then who could? Besides - it's not like women aren't capable. No, in fact, they are so much more capable. But he of course doesn't see that. None of them do and why would they? They're not the ones being forced into something they're not.

And she loves her tribe, she really does and all it's proud and strong people, and she would do almost anything to protect it but its backward ideas about gender roles have her fuming. Even from a purely factual view - the tribes aren't big. They're not exactly small and the South pales in comparison to the North but compared to the other nations, there really aren't that many people. And a good half of them consists of women. So why forbid potential soldiers from battle and instead force them to stay unproductive?

And it's not like she can't do both. Katara can sew and cook and clean and she even likes doing all those things because she is a tidy person who likes everything to be neatly arranged and in order and it gives her a purpose. But what she likes even more is feeling the rush of battle, the anticipation of an upcoming fight, the sensation of her icicles flying through the air and slashing everything in their wake, the sick thrill of freezing someone to the wall and having them at her mercy.

But that's not how the world works and there's nothing much that she can do about it besides rolling her eyes and occasionally giving a sarcastic reply. And it's not like Katara is treated badly for simply being a woman, she is royalty after all. Even though she tries her best to ignore the quiet whispers of her crew when they see her walk by because a woman on a ship attracts dark spirits. Even though she's never taken it personally when Sokka was encouraged to have sword lessons and learn how to throw a boomerang while her requests for learning how to fight were ignored in favor of shoving her into a corner and teaching her how to braid beads into her hair.

Sokka.

She misses him. There's this anxiety deep within her, ever since Tulek told her the news and sometimes it threatens to consume her. The cold fury she felt in the throne room ebbed away and made place for an agonizing sadness, a terror in her chest that threatened to cut off her breath. What if he really is dead? What if he's been attacked by angry spirits and is now lying injured on some ice floe? Or worse - what if he's been possessed? She thinks back to another night that regularly haunts her dreams and then to scrolls she's read describing just what exactly happens to people lost at sea.

She swallows and then shakes her head. No. She can't lose hope. He has to be out there, somewhere. He is Sokka, prince of the Southern Water Tribe, son of Hakoda and, most importantly, her brother. He is strong. He won't go down just like that, he won't just lay down and die. She has full faith in that.

Because if Katara doesn't have faith, she has nothing.

Chapter 3: Two

Chapter Text

Sokka can barely contain his excitement as he lets his gaze wander around the big city that is Gaoling. The houses are big and tall, so much taller than he's ever seen houses be and he briefly wonders how it would feel like to look out of the window from the top floor and how far he'd be able to see. The streets are bustling with people, mostly merchants trying to sell their goods and nobles dressed in fine, light-green robes with the occasional Fire Nation guard in-between. He and Aang stick out like a sore thumb in their dark commoner tunics that Sokka bought them in one of the outskirt villages to hide their identities. Blue clothes and yellow robes with arrow-tattoos would have caught too much attention. Sokka sends his thanks to Tui and La for having a few spare coins left in his old Water Tribe clothes that are now stored in a bag hanging off his shoulders.

He had been able to catch a few fish and sell them to one of the farmers in a small village they stopped in just a day ago but the fish hadn't been worth much. Still, better than nothing. Although he does worry how they're going to afford to travel in the future. They thankfully don't have to worry about transportation and Sokka's a good hunter, but supplies cost money. Money they barely have.

It's an issue he's confronted with for the first time in his life. He's a prince. Back home, everything had been affordable and on his travels, he's always had enough to live comfortably. But that had been another life and now he's in the Earth Kingdom undercover and people don't turn their heads in order to get a good look at him. It's quite the opposite actually, some noblemen and their wives look down their nose at him and the teenager beside him and make annoyed faces. Not the commoners again.

But to his surprise, he doesn't mind. It's refreshing. It's not like he was ever arrogant or took the attention and easy lifestyle for granted. At least he likes to think of himself this way.

Aang doesn't look around as much in wonder as Sokka does; he's seen cities this big and even bigger before after all. Instead, he looks more at the people, on the lookout for a potential teacher. They figured that a big city would be the best option for their mission; after all, this way they would catch less attention as the newcomers looking for an earthbending teacher. And Gaoling was the closest to them, only a two-day-flight away from where they originally entered the main continent of the Earth Kingdom.

The sensation of flying is still mildly uncomfortable but not as downright weird as this unusual mode of transportation was at first. Aang instructed Appa to wait in some bushes in the forest outside of the merchant town and Sokka wasn't even surprised to see the animal listening intently and following suit. He wonders if all sky bison were this obedient when they were still roaming the world.

They turn around a corner and are greeted by flying rocks. Aang dodges them easily while Sokka is hit in the head with one. Pain starts spreading from his forehead to the rest of his head; he lets out a pained groan and what the fuck-

"Sorry, you two!" a voice yells. Pressing a hand against the spot just above his left eye, he opens his eyes. Before them is a large man standing on a small platform made of rock, dressed in the typical brown and greenish colors of the Earth Kingdom and arm guards in the same color. He pays the two boys he just accidentally hit no mind as he turns, stomps his foot down and punches the air with his right arm. A large boulder emerges from the earth beneath him and darts through the air at an enormous pace before crashing into a stone wall and bursting into pieces. The few people gathered around him at a safe distance clap in admiration.

"Wow," Aang says beside him, "this guy is good." And he is. He punches and kicks and stomps and the earth bends to his will, flying through the air with deadly precision, following its master's will. Sokka's seen earthbenders in action before but never quite like this, not for show and admiration. It's fascinating and beautiful; the firm stances and punches so unlike the fluid waterbending he's used to. They watch in awe for a while until the man turns to his audience and bows before holding out a hat that had been lying on the ground next to him.

Aang shoots him a look. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Oh yes, he is. Together they approach the bender after he's collected some coins from the watchers that are now starting to go on about their day. "Hi," Aang greets him, cheerful as always. "I'm Aang. That was a really spectacular show! You're really good."

The man smiles and shakes both of their hands. "Why, thanks. Name's Wen Chu."

"Where did you learn to bend like that?" Aang's grey eyes are wide in curiosity.

"Master Yu's Earthbending school of course! It's right around the corner! Pretty expensive though." The man eyes them with a look in his eyes that Sokka recognizes as you two don't look like you could afford it. But there's still another option.

"I was wondering," Aang begins, ignoring or perhaps not even noticing Wen Chu's unsaid words, "maybe you could show me some of your tricks?"

"My tricks?" Wen Chu snorts. "Every bender has their own style. If I would show you some of my tricks, I'd lose part of my identity."

"We don't expect you to show us your full repertoire. Just some basics, you know," Sokka intervenes, not liking where this conversation is going.

"Yeah, just some basics. You see, I haven't really had many opportunities to learn earthbending and we just saw how good you are, so we thought-"

"Do you have any money?" the man's deep voice interrupts the airbender. Sokka meets his eyes for a second, both knowing that they don't exactly have any money to spend. They both agreed on trying to find a teacher that they wouldn't have to pay because teaching Aang would be a long-term commitment and they don't have that much money to spend in the long run.

"Uhm," Aang begins stuttering, "well, no, not really, but-"

"Then I don't see why I should waste my time teaching someone without getting anything out of it. I have bills to pay, you see." You'd get a life free from fear of the Fire Nation because this is the freaking Avatar standing right in front of you, you boneheaded idiot, but of course Sokka doesn't say that, resolving to bite the inner side of his cheek instead. They don't want to pay him and they don't even have the money but this guy is really good at what he does and he surely could show Aang some very useful tricks and-

"Okay, fine, we'll pay you."

They will what? Sokka glares at Aang but the airbender ignores him, reaching for the backpack slung over Sokka's shoulder where they keep what little they have. "We don't have much but it's a start." He looks a bit sheepishly while holding out the coins to the tall man in front of them. He's gotta have a talk with Aang to not just do stuff they haven't agreed upon before because that is the sort of behavior that will land them in trouble one day.

"Fine," Wen Chu says, closing his fist around the money. "I can teach you some stuff and then we'll see. What do you already know? At what level are you at?" Aang meets his gaze for a second, before answering, a bit self-conscious, "Uh, nothing so far? I've never done any earthbending before to be honest… that's why I said basics."

Wen Chu stares at him in confusion for a second. "Never, you say? You sure you are one at all? How old are you?"

"Sixteen, sir. And ah, yes, I am sure."

He snorts at that. "Well then..." Aang's new teacher trails off before clearing his throat and straightening up a little, appearing even taller than before. "Let's see what we can do."

—

The marketplace is crowded and Sokka looks around in amazement. There's just something about big cities that appeals to him, something that makes his heart pound faster while exploring alleys and streets bustling with people. It's so unlike his home back in the South and maybe it should feel strange and uncomfortable but it doesn't. Instead, it feels thrilling and exciting. Not that the city he calls his home has lacked in people, no, but there are not nearly as many people as there are here. And this is just one city - and not even the biggest at that - in the massive continent that calls itself the Earth Kingdom. He wonders what Ba Sing Se would be like.

He's traveled a fair amount around this country but he and his crew always avoided the big cities, opting to stay out of any village or town instead to not arouse suspicion and attract the attention of Fire Nation soldiers. So this is completely new to him and he absolutely loves it.

He left Aang and Wen Chu to their teaching lesson in the back of some alley where they agreed to meet up again in a few hours. Having nothing to do, Sokka is now wandering around the city, trying to learn its layout and what kind of people live here in case they're going to stay here longer. So far, he's gathered that the town is definitely pretty well of and from what he's seen on the streets, he guesses it's because of the many merchants here. The people look well-fed and not too stressed about anything.

He spots a vendor selling only meat and his stomach growls in hunger. Sokka does his best to ignore it; they've already got even fewer coins left now and they can't just spend it on every whim (he's got a terrible soft spot for meat but growing up in an icy tundra with little to no vegetation, who can blame him, really). He's a talented hunter, he can catch their food for free and look for nuts for Aang; at least until they figure out what to do and where to go next. And this means waiting for how Aang's first earthbending lesson goes.

Sokka approaches another vendor, this one selling various knives and other kitchen utensils. He has no intention to buy but he can look.

"... and I bet The Boulder's gonna win back his title tonight!" Two boys with short dark hair stand next to him, one talking excitedly about something, presumably this boulder guy. "You sure?" the other one asks a bit skeptical if his raised eyebrows are anything to go by. "He's lost every single time against the - what was his name again?"

"The Blind Bandit! And it's a she. I've told you a hundred times already, Rey. And yes, I am. I mean, I already bet all my money for this month on him, so..." He groans. "But you're not gonna bring your girlfriend tonight, are you? She's so annoying."

"Hey!" Rey protests, "She's not. Lilu is-"

"Save it, I don't wanna hear it. Again. All you do is talk about her."

"Yeah, well, all you do is talk about this stupid earthbending fight-"

"It's not a stupid fight, it's a tournament," the other boy interrupts and Sokka wholeheartedly agrees silently, now having caught his whole attention. There is a difference between the two and both are magnificent to watch. It's an art that can't be disrespected. "And it's called Earth Rumble VI. Learn it."

"And where is this Earth Rumble VI?" The question almost sounds mocking.

"You know where the watchtower is right before the city wall? There's a door behind some dumpsters in a dark alley just to the right and you gotta knock like this." He demonstrates it by knocking two times against the wooden surface in front of him, waiting a few seconds, and then knocking again three times. "Only then they'll let you in. And be punctual, this time, please. The crowd's so big, we won't find each other otherwise."

"Wait, that weird signal, is it because that fight is… illegal?"

"Oh come on, don't be such a coward! And yes, maybe the authorities don't like to see it... sometimes, competitors get a little... beaten up."

Rey looks a little green. "Are you- ugh, fine. But if we get caught, I'm blaming you." And the boys start to wander off. Now this was an interesting conversation.

"Well," the vendor huffs, sending Sokka an annoyed look, "you gonna buy somethin' or no?"

"Uh, I-"

"Then bugger off!"

Sokks turns and starts wandering in another direction. An illegal earthbending tournament? He's starting to love this city more and more. An underground fight where benders beat each other up sounds exactly like something he would enjoy.

Maybe he'll get to go to one if they stay here longer. That is, of course, if everything goes well with Aang's lesson.

—

It, in fact, does not go well. He sees that in the way Aang's grey eyes look defeated to the ground in shame, his whole face marked with hard lines, even under the large straw hat on his bald head. Wen Chu fumes beside him. "... an earthbender, pah! You lied to me! I could have used the whole day to make more money than you two can give me but no, you made me waste it and FOR WHAT?" He goes on about how they apparently get a sick thrill out of lying to people and if they had it out for him. Sokka thinks he's a bit paranoid.

"Uh, Wen, buddy, maybe-"

"I'M NOT YOUR BUDDY! AND MY NAME IS WEN CHU!", Wen (Chu) shouts, face now as red as the uniform of a Fire Nation soldier. "I can't believe you guys made me waste an entire day of work! I have bills to pay in case you weren't paying attention earlier!"

"Look, I'm sorry," Aang begins, "I already told you that I never really got the chance to earthbend before. No one's taught me. If you just give me another chance-" But he gets cut off.

"To waste even more time? You're as connected to your element as a firebender is to the spirits! You'll never bend, boy. So stop. Wasting. My. Time," he says as if explaining something to a child, a not-so-mentally-gifted one. And before they have another chance to convince him to give it another try, he storms off.

Great. Now they've wasted money and half a day. Sokka turns to Aang who is looking defeated to the ground. "This bad?"

Aang doesn't meet his gaze and only shrugs. "Yeah."

Sokka makes a grimace before slinging an arm around the other boy's shoulders. He looks like he needs something to cheer him up. "Well, I think I've got an idea."

—

"She's amazing," Aang gasps from his seat next to Sokka, not taking his eyes off the spectacle in front of them. They're in the underground arena Sokka heard about and it's even better than expected. There are seats for hundreds of people, most of them being occupied and at a safe distance to the massive stage, where benders make a show out of fighting each other. It's bloody and messy and chaotic and Sokka loves it. Aang occasionally cringes when the sound of bones breaking can be heard over the noise from the audience or when a contestant flys off the La-knows-how-many-feet-high-up-in-the-air-stage but is otherwise enjoying himself, the disastrous lesson from earlier nearly forgotten.

Right now, they're watching the Blind Bandit beat up The Boulder and Sokka is surprised to see her do it. She's a petite teenager and can't be much older than Aang is, her long bangs obscuring her vision. But she moves with a grace that he's never seen before and certainly never expected from an earthbender, and never misses a beat. She somehow seems to know where her opponents are and what they're going to do before they themselves even know it. Her attacks are deadly and precise, angled just right to hit all the important spots; her boulders flinging opponent after opponent off the stage with seemingly no effort. She doesn't even break a sweat and keeps smiling, from the first second to the last.

Wen is a joke compared to her.

The host holds up her arm, announcing her as the unsurpassed winner and Sokka wonders if he can see Rey's friend fuming if he just looks hard enough. After the host's question if anyone would like to challenge her is met with a silence that says more than a thousand cheers could, the fight is over for tonight and the Blind Bandit starts to climb down the stage. They get up just like the rest of the crowd does but instead of heading for the exit, Aang starts running towards where the Blind Bandit wandered off to. In the huge crowd, Sokka easily loses sight of him and silently curses airbenders for being so quick on their feet. But he has no choice but to follow him, fighting his way through the moving crowd.

He finds him a few minutes later down the stairs. From here, he has to crane his neck to look up where the stage and the seats are and tries his best to ignore the bloodstains on the grey rock. Aang seems to have found not only the Blind Bandit but the host too while a few of the other contestants he's seen earlier stand a few feet behind them. "No, look, I can explain-", Sokka hears Aang's voice that sounds something like desperation. "I never wanted to molest anyone, I just wanted to-"

"Fans like you are the reason the contestants keep a distance from the rest of the audience! Do you think you can just walk up to anyone and beg them to-"

"I wasn't begging!"

"Don't interrupt me!" the host yells, towering threateningly over Aang. He's easily a few heads taller than him and Aang looks just the slightest bit intimidated.

Sokka swallows, silently curses him again for getting them into trouble, and then walks up to the angry group. "Hi," he greets, trying not to let his voice show how unsure he feels about the whole thing. But he's good at negotiating, so he should be able to handle this.

—

He's not able to handle this. They both get dragged out of the arena and banned from ever entering again.

Wonderful.

And all Aang ever did was to ask the Blind Bandit if she wanted to teach him. Who knew the people in this town are so sensitive? He's lost count of how many times they were yelled and scoffed at today. And they've only been here for a day. Sokka's starting to not like this city.

To be fair, Aang entered an area where only contestants are allowed. And ignored the warnings of the host and several others to leave. Several times. And then kind of invaded the Blind Bandit's personal space. But only a little, according to Aang so Sokka's pretty sure that only a little actually means not little at all.

He resists the urge to slap a hand against his forehead. He needs his brain cells after all. The moon shines bright over them and Sokka wonders if Katara is looking up at it too. What do they do now? They've been rejected two times and Aang looks to be deep in thought, sadness marring his face. Well, saddle Appa and continue their search, he guesses. There's a whole continent to explore after all. But he has to admit, he doesn't feel very excited about the prospect of having to do this countless more times. One day is exhausting enough.

Sokka pats Aang on the shoulder in reassurance and quickly retracts his arm as the other boy winces, clearly having hit a newly formed bruise from the not-so-gentle-hands of the Earth Rumble contestants. "Hey, it's been only a day. No one finds what they're looking for on their first day. There are countless more!" He doesn't feel as optimistic as his words are implying but that doesn't matter. A chilly breeze picks up around them and he is starting to miss his warm Water Tribe parka as they continue to roam the streets, unsure of where to go. They both don't want to leave right away but it looks like they have no other options. It's probably for the best. He's not sure how much more yelling Aang can take.

Just as they round the corner, Sokka spots a familiar face. Oh dear La, no. What are the chances? Wen Chu. Or Wen, as he now addresses the man in his head, just because he knows it would infuriate him. The streets are empty this late into the night so it's only them and the earthbender in front of them. A very angry earthbender, crouching on the ground and having his hand in a hole created by removing a brick from a wall. Very suspicious behavior that they certainly don't want anything to do with. Sokka curses silently.

But before they can turn around and pretend to have never seen the man, Wen suddenly turns his head in their direction, taking away their opportunity to just walk away. "Hey, you two," he says and his voice sounds the opposite of inviting and welcoming. "Are you stalking me? Huh? What are you doing here? How long have you-" he interrupts himself and stands up, ominously towering over them. "Haven't you taken up enough of my time?"

Correction: He's not just a bit paranoid. He's very paranoid.

"Uh, no. We actually just came back from the Earth Rumble Tournament-"

"To torment other benders? What are you guys, some anti-bender-lunatics?"

Sokka, as a non-bender, takes offense at that. He's never been able to stay out of fights for long or out of trouble in general. So it's no surprise that just a few moments later, he finds himself in a fight with Wen.

He's good. Not as good as the Blind Bandit but Sokka is grateful for that as he doges boulders aimed for his head. He reaches for the boomerang strapped across his shoulders and throws. Aang is standing a few feet away from them, clearly not knowing how to defend himself without airbending. And he can't exactly use that or they'll have a much bigger problem. Sokka will have to teach him how to use a weapon that is not bending and he will have to do that soon.

He dodges again and again, and he's fought benders before and never really felt inferior to them but his experience with earthbenders is limited, being more familiar with the fluid movements of waterbenders. Aim for the legs, he realizes, that'll throw him off. And hopefully give them enough time to run away. He ducks, ignoring the unpleasant sound of stone crashing against a wall, and uses the crouching position to send his boomerang flying through the air at just the right height to hit Wen's feet-

A large stone slab shoots out from under him, throwing him up in the air and against a wooden fence. Black spots cloud his vision and for a moment he can't see anything, is only able to concentrate on the immense pain in his neck and back. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. The air is knocked out of his lungs but if he coughs he's sure it'll hurt even worse. He forces his eyes open, wincing at the pain of moving his head. There's the sound of someone yelling and when he forces himself to sit up, he sees Aang going into a fighting stance. Nausea sweeps through him, making him gag, but the sensation is quickly overpowered by his horror at what happens next.

Aang airbends.

He feels the powerful wind gust before he sees Wen being thrown into the opposite wall. Wen lets out a surprised yelp, followed by a pained scream and the disgusting sound of something breaking. Sokka sits up, weight resting on his elbows, and eyes the man now laying on the ground. Blood is trickling from his head but before he has the chance to inspect him further, Aang is at his side, helping him up.

Sokka can't help but groan in pain as a new wave of nausea hits him and he suddenly feels very, very dizzy and there's this intense pain in his head-

"Are you okay?" Aang's concerned voice gets through to him. He leans his weight against the boy, struggling to stand upright and closes his eyes for a second to stop the world from spinning. "I think I knocked him out but I don't know for how long. We have to get away!" But walking really isn't on his mind right now even though it should be. They take a few steps forward, each one sending a new wave of pain through Sokka's body and he has to force himself to keep the bile rising up his throat down.

Suddenly, there's another grunt, one that isn't his. He can feel Aang stopping abruptly and he doesn't have to take a look at him to know that the boy's skin just got a few shades paler. He can feel goosebumps on his own skin, everything in him tightening in horror. Opening his eyes, they turn, slowly because that's all he's capable of right now, and watch as the man lying on the ground before them gets up, green eyes trained on them and only them.

The right side of Wen's face is covered in blood that flows freely from an open wound on his forehead. With a pained grimace, he takes a fighting stance, feet rooted firmly to the ground, hands up in the air, palms facing them.

Oh no.

There's no way Sokka can fight and even if Aang-

A big rock sails through the air from behind them, just barely missing them, and connects with Wen's skin, hitting him in the head and knocking him out again. His eyes roll backward for a split second before he hits the ground, properly out this time.

They both turn in an instant, Sokka ignoring the black spots in his vision, and see a familiar looking face standing just a few feet away. The Blind Bandit.

"You guys really can't stay out of trouble, can you?" She makes a tsk sound and shakes her head, muttering something that suspiciously sounds like "Idiots" under her breath.

"What are you doing here?" Aang wants to know with a shaking voice.

"Saving you, duh. Heard the commotion. You're really lucky that the guards haven't found you yet. They don't exactly appreciate fights out in the streets. Especially not if outsiders are involved." She takes a few steps forward and despite the dark, Sokka can see her milky eyes pointed in their general direction under the dark hair hanging into her face. "What were you guys even doing fighting that guy anyway? You don't feel like someone who could take him. And, well, you obviously didn't." She shrugs.

"We didn't start the fight!" Aang protests. "He attacked us! We were just rounding the corner and minding our own business and then-" He's stopped by the Blind Bandit holding up a hand. "Save it. I don't have time for your tirades. Just be glad I was here at the right time." She turns and starts walking away from them but Aang sprints after her, letting go of his hold on Sokka in the process so that he has to hold himself up against a wall.

"Wait! What's your name?"

"The Blind Bandit."

"No, your real one."

She lets out an annoyed huff. "I knocked some guy out, not proposed to you. Let it go."

But Aang's not so easily discouraged. "Seriously, thank you. You just saved us. What's your name? I'm Aang." He holds out a hand for a handshake but lets his arm drop when she doesn't take it, clearly having forgotten that she's blind. Or so Sokka thinks because the clouded green of her eyes is clearly an indication of that. But then again, how is she able to move with this much confidence, let alone beat guys twice her size in a fight? He's confused.

"Toph," she huffs out after a few silent seconds.

"Well," Aang begins again, "thank you, Toph. Are you really blind?" Oh La, tact is definitely something that he lacks. But who is Sokka of all people to judge?

She snorts. "Yes, I really am blind." She puts the emphasis on the last word. "So what? I can still kick your ass!"

"Oh, I don't doubt that. What you did there was pretty badass."

That seems to throw her off for a second, but she quickly composes herself. "I know." Humble is not a word Sokka would use to describe Toph.

"I was wondering if you could maybe show me some of your tricks, I-"

"No. I don't work with beginners. Or with other people at all," is the firm answer. Sokka inwardly groans out of frustration. He knows that just walking up to people and asking them to teach Aang is not exactly the best way to go about this but he's getting tired of all the rejections and he's in pain and so, so tired.

"Please, Toph, I-"

"What do you not understand about no? Fuck off," she interrupts Aang again and takes a few steps around him in the opposite direction, away from the alley and the still unconscious Wen.

"Yeah, but..." Aang's clearly searching for words, words he can't find. And then he does the second most stupid thing of this evening. "I'm the Avatar!"

Sokka wants to slap him. Tui and La, they've talked about this! Well, not in length but they've agreed to remain undercover and now he just yelled out his identity so loud that the whole street has probably heard it. They don't even know how Toph will react or if she'll run to the authorities and do La knows what and Sokka doesn't even want to think of the consequences. If word gets out that they're here, then...

She stops abruptly, slowly turning around. For a moment it's eerily quiet while she stares at them, or rather, their torsos as they are on level with her eyes, not that it would matter. Her eyebrows shoot up, disappearing behind her bangs. "The Avatar?" There's a tone in her voice Sokka recognizes all too well from his own and he certainly doesn't like that. "You're telling me that you are the Avatar? The one that disappeared a hundred years ago?"

Aang nods before remembering and quickly answers with a "Yeah, I am."

"You don't sound a hundred years old."

"Well, no, I- uh, I was trapped in this iceberg and it's... it's a really crazy story, you know..."

"I'm not a little girl anymore. Save your fairytales for someone else." She almost spits the words as if he insulted her.

"But it's not a fairytale! Really, I am the Avatar."

"You should see him," Sokka interjects, having kept himself out of the conversation up until this point. "He had arrow tattoos and a bald head and these weird yellow robes when I found him." He pushes himself off the wall, wincing in pain and ignores the way using his voice exhausts him more than it should.

"And why exactly should I believe you? You just got hit in the head pretty hard."

"I'm perfectly fine!" But he can't quite suppress the groan that comes with taking another step in her direction.

"Yeah, sure. I can hear that. Found him? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I'm from the Water Tribe and Aang was in this giant iceberg that came out of the water when I accidentally triggered something-"

"Oma and Shu, this is getting more ridiculous every second." He wants to agree with her because yes, this is all ridiculous and if someone would have told him a week ago what he would be doing now, he'd think he hit them too hard with his boomerang. But that's not the point. The tiger seal is already out of the bag and if they can actually convince Toph to teach Aang, then they've solved one big problem. But before he can tell her that, Aang takes matters into his own hands and produces a wind gust that almost sends Sokka stumbling to the ground. Toph, however, stays unbothered, the wind only ruffling her black hair.

"See? I'm the last airbender. How could I have survived so long if I weren't the Avatar?"

She doesn't miss a beat. "Maybe you're a descendant? It's Air Nomads, after all. Maybe they weren't all in the temples when Sozin attacked." That throws Aang off, clearly not having expected such an answer. Sokka has to admit, she's got a point. But she doesn't give them time to think about that. "If you really are the Avatar, then show me. Bend other elements."

Aang stays quiet for a few seconds, his expression resembling the one he had when he told Sokka about his lack of knowledge on the other elements that night on the island. "I... I don't actually know how to do that yet. No one's taught me and I went into the iceberg before I got a chance-"

Toph huffs. "Yeah, sure." But then her face sobers up and she stands just a little more upright. "Look. I can tell you're both not total liars" - and Sokka doesn't dare to question it even though he has no idea how in Tui's name she's supposed to know that - "but there's something up with you guys. And the best thing to do is to stay clear of people like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sokka exclaims, flabbergasted and offended. He can't quite place the insult and it bothers him.

"You guys attract trouble wherever you go," she clarifies. "And I can't have that. Not here. And even if you are who you say you are - so what? The world's total chaos now. Congratulations."

"But you could teach me earthbending and then I'd have a shot at-"

"Again: What do you not understand about the word no?" She shakes her head and turns around, clearly having said her piece. "Just stay away from me." And with that, the conversation is officially over.

—

The clinking of glasses and chopsticks are the only sounds Toph can hear, along with the soft chewing of her father next to her at the head of the table and the occasional shuffling of feet from the servants where they are standing next to the walls, waiting for orders. Not knowing exactly where everyone is irritates her; her maid caught her barefoot earlier and forced her to put on some shoes. Normally she'd just slip them off under the table where no one can see, but they're tied with complicated laces to her feet and she'd just catch attention from her parents if she'd try anything. And she really can't take another tirade on how ladies of her status always have to wear shoes.

She picks up a few noodles with her chopsticks and chews on them before moving on to the roast duck. It tastes delicious, she has to give the cook that, even though the old lady chased her out of the kitchen last night. Toph has no idea why she was even there in the first place; usually when she comes home late at night or early in the morning, everyone's already or still asleep.

But then again, there's nothing usual about last night.

First of all, that airbender kid. He can't be much older than her and she really did feel that wind that couldn't have just come out of nowhere. He really is an airbender. But all airbenders are dead and have been for a hundred years. But maybe there really are descendants from them wandering the world. To be honest, that theory is just something she blurted out in the heat of the moment. But now that she thinks about it, it seems plausible. She doesn't know much about the nation that no one likes to talk about these days but they couldn't have just been named 'nomads' without a reason, right? Who says that Sozin really killed everyone?

Which brings her to the next question: the Avatar. Legends say he vanished a hundred years ago, unclear if he just went into hiding or if the Avatar cycle got broken. But nonetheless, that's a long time for someone to hide. Or to be trapped in an iceberg like Aang and that other boy said. She felt that they weren't lying - even though her perception was a bit off with that older sounding guy because he had been injured so his body wasn't working as it normally should - but there's still something fishy about it.

The tale of the Avatar is a legend, a myth. There is no current Avatar. That's how she grew up, that's how she lives. That's how the world works. Even if Aang sounded sincere - she still doesn't trust him. That is just too big of a change in her world view. Just thinking about it makes her feel dizzy.

Besides, she can't just teach every stray she meets on the streets, Avatar or not. She's undercover, no one really knows anything about her, much less what she looks like, her parents made sure of that, and she can't risk her cover being blown. She loves taking risks; if she wouldn't, she wouldn't sneak out almost every night to fight random guys in an illegal tournament but if she has to be careful with one thing in her life, it's this. She has so few freedoms left as is, she doesn't want to imagine how little of that she'd have left if her parents would find out about her nightly activities. She snorts into her tea.

The sound of chewing next to her comes to a stop and she hears something that she assumes is chopsticks being carefully placed on the plate. Oh no. This usually means an announcement.

"Toph," her father starts to speak. "Your mother and I have spoken and came to an agreement. About your future." Toph sets down her cup of tea and mentally composes herself for what's to come. We've decided on a new teacher for you or from now on, you will only be allowed to eat green vegetables or the underground bunker we'll lock you into for the rest of your life is finally ready.

"We have decided to finally introduce you to society."

She nearly curses but holds herself back at the very last second. This would only make everything so much worse. But what? Why now?

"You are sixteen now, nearly seventeen," he continues unfazed, "it is time for you to find a suitor." Everything in her freezes and the air is nearly sucked out of her lungs. She hates being hidden and kept away from the rest of the world like there's something wrong about her, like she's someone her parents are ashamed of, but she has to admit, this is much better than the alternative. She knows her parents would want her to marry someone of their liking, some noble or rich merchant her father could make deals with, but she's always hoped that they would take their time with that, given her blindness and faked attitude of 'I'm-so-helpless'.

"The firstborn son of the La Yu family just turned eighteen and he'd make a suitable match. He's well versed in diplomacy and will one day be a fine merchant. There's also this very promising trade deal that I'd make with his father..." She blocks the rest out. She can't marry. She just can't. She'd have to move away from here, from Gaoling, the only city she knows and if she talks about knowing this city, she really, really does. She's walked every street here, has explored the underground tunnels, can locate every creaking tile in this house. And she wants to leave, yes, but not if it would be for just another stuffy and boring life.

Toph knows what is expected of noble wives. She'd have to run the household and then she wouldn't have time for any bending at all and who knows how that La Yu son would treat her? She's heard the sound of a hand colliding with skin and her mother's sobs late at night when her parents thought she was sleeping. It's gotten better now and it doesn't happen nearly as often anymore but still. And she shudders even thinking about it, but one of the most important duties as a wife is bearing children. She can't do that. Not now, maybe not ever. But especially not now and with a man she doesn't even know, probably won't like either.

No. She can't do this. She is the Blind Bandit after all, legendary earthbender - she will not be married off against her will!

"Mother," she interrupts her father's going ons about how great that trade deal would be, ignoring the consequence of him getting angry at that. "I don't think I can do this." She gives her best impression of a voice she's worked years on to master - unsure, scared, helpless. Tiny and petite. Just like her parents want her. Toph has learned long ago that pretending to be meek gets her much more with her parents than fighting back. But that doesn't mean that she won't if she absolutely has to.

Across from her, her mother sighs. "Toph, darling." She hates being addressed as 'darling'. "You know that you have to marry one day. And you're of age now and a daughter of nobility..."

"But I'm blind. I can't orient myself. Being a housewife is going to be so hard." Toph hates using her disability like this because frankly, it is not. She's able to do anything other seeing people can do, maybe even more. And she also hates begging her mother like this, using her like this, because one: an Earth Rumble Champion doesn't beg and two: her mother really does care about her. She doesn't care to count how many times she's felt the urge to send her flying to the moon and she certainly has some ideals and expectations that Toph doesn't agree with in the slightest but she's still her mother. Even though she treats her daughter like she's incompetent and wishes she were someone else. But desperate times require desperate measures.

"That's why you'll have a servant with you every time of the day to tend to your every need and help you with your daily tasks." Her mother says it as if that was a good thing. She almost sounds cheerful, spirits.

Oh no. Oh hell no. Being watched literally every second of every day is the last thing she wants.

"I've already spoken with the La Yu family," her father says. "Not many men would take someone of your condition as a wife. You should be glad. You'll live a good life." A life in a golden cage. Toph wants to slap her father. Someone of her condition? She's just as capable as every other person!

"But-"

"This is not a discussion, Toph. The decision's already been made, the only thing that isn't agreed upon already is the wedding date. Lord La Yu and his son will arrive at this estate in two days time to discuss further details. You will be introduced to your future husband and you will be polite and honor the Bei Fong name, just as we raised you."

They've raised her to be weak and helpless, forever bound to her parents and whoever is nice enough to give her a hand, but that is not Toph. She's neither polite nor weak. And if that means not honoring the family name - well, she couldn't care less about honoring a family that only wants to keep her down.

But still. Yelling and protesting won't get her anywhere, not with her parents. She has to be smart about this even though all she wants to do is to stand up and kick boulders at everyone in the room like the time they tried to have her feet bound. So the only thing she does is bow her head in quiet defeat while picking up her chopsticks, even though she is fuming inside.

—

"You're not hitting the notes." There's a hand on hers, guiding it a little lower on the flute Toph's holding. "There. Try this." More uneven notes. The old woman before her sighs loudly in frustration. "I don't know why you don't get this. I've been doing my best." It's because Toph doesn't want to learn how to play the flute. It's unnecessary and way too girly. But of course she doesn't say that out loud and instead remains silent.

Again she feels hands on hers, showing her how to hold the instrument a little differently. "Maybe this will do it."

She blows, fingers dancing over the little holes but the sounds coming out of the flute aren't pleasant at all.

Another sigh. "Toph, you are to be married soon. A good wife is educated in the art of music." She couldn't care less about what a good wife should and shouldn't know because she's already decided that she's not going to be a wife. She doesn't yet know how but there's too much fight left in her to just give up. She has to find a way, just has to. The alternative would be too unbearable.

"Try again." Her teacher's voice is firmer now, more strict as if she's come to the decision that she'll teach Toph how to play the flute, no matter the cost. If she weren't so annoyed, she might have appreciated the determination in the other women's voice. She complies but is only met with a sound of frustration. "You aren't even trying! Young Lady, if you think you can deceive me, you are mistaken. You will learn, whether you like it or not!" There's a sound of someone moving. "Again!" Now Lady Ran has really lost her patience. Not a rare occurrence.

But what happens next is definitely a rare occurrence.

When the notes coming out of the instrument still don't sound even, there's no sigh or any other frustrated noises. Instead, there's the sound of something colliding with skin and pain spreading from her hand. Surprised, Toph yelps and almost drops the flute. "Did you just hit me?"

"There clearly isn't another way for you to learn. You're not giving me a choice."

"You just hit me!"

"Again."

But Toph's had enough. Her hand hurts - and she's felt worse pain but that's not the point because the psychopath in front of her just hit what she perceives to be a tiny helpless blind girl -, her dress is clinging uncomfortably to her skin and so tightly bound she can't breathe properly, she's still in shock about the news from today's breakfast and she's been having boring and stuffy lessons all afternoon. She's tired and frustrated and there's only so much she can take in a day. She snaps.

Toph drops the flute, the sound of it hitting the floor ringing in her ears, stands up and curses so boldly it would make sailors proud and her mother faint. It's about time she tells old puffy Lady Ran just exactly what she thinks of her and her teaching methods. Forcing her to do something never leads to anything good and Toph will out-stubborn this lady. After she's said her piece, she doesn't give the crone time to answer, turning her back to her and stomping out of the room while pulling at the laces binding her shoes.

—

The moon is out and shining, casting a mythical glow on the wide gardens of the Bei Fong estate. Or so Toph thinks, for all she knows the moon could be obscured by clouds tonight. But she doesn't really care, listening for sounds of people moving instead, feeling the vibrations in the ground.

After her outburst earlier in the afternoon, her mother gave her a long scolding and forced her to apologize. She admits that this isn't how she wanted to go about this because she'd just dig holes in her own plan this way, but that old crone really deserved it and Toph does have a temper. She's just glad she didn't get locked into her room tonight. Her parents have been known to do that when she misbehaved.

Ever since then, Toph learned to not talk back and remain quiet. She could always rebel later in silence when her parents couldn't directly trace it back to her and punish her.

And this is how she came to her decision.

There was no way she could stay here. Her parents would marry her off and then her life would be practically over. That is not going to happen. So the only other option she has left is to run away. The prospect of that doesn't nearly scare her as much as it probably should. She'd live a life full of adventure and fights and she'd finally be able to make her own decisions. This is what she's always wanted and now the opportunity finally arises.

She dreamt about doing it more times than she can remember. She just never went through with it. She is not sure why since she is confident in her abilities to take care of herself. She's a master earthbender after all. Maybe it's because she doesn't want to leave Gaoling. This city is her home, she knows it like the back of her hand, probably even better, considering, and the Earthbending Tournament is something like a safe haven for her.

Or maybe it is because of her parents. They're annoying and snotty and think her helpless and weak and try to mold her into something she's not - but they're still her parents. She knows her mother loves her. She knows her father wants to see her safe. She doesn't want to hurt them, but there's no other choice since they're hurting her.

Toph wishes she could leave behind a letter, explaining that she'll be fine, but there are some things that she can't do without her sight, as hard as it is to admit that. So she swallows hard and takes one last stroll around her room, touching her desk, her bed, the candles with her fingers. Everything important is stuffed into a bag around her shoulders, along with enough money to last her long enough. If her parents are smart, they'll figure it out.

A weird feeling rises up in her. She's really doing this. All this time that she's spent dreaming and fantasizing about this moment - it's really here. She won't miss her home, she won't. It's the symbol for her old, boring life where she had to be something that she is not.

No. This ends tonight.

With a last deep breath, she turns, opens the window, and climbs out into the garden, feeling the cool night breeze on her skin and the soft grass under her feet. This is it. Her new life begins today.

Chapter 4: Three

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Aang, we gotta talk."

He throws the boomerang for what feels like the hundredth time and watches with a sigh as it hits the tree a few feet in front of him and uselessly falls to the ground. Sokka is sitting a short distance away, trying not to get hit by Aang's fruitless attempts at throwing his weapon, leaning against Appa, who is lazily dozing off in the moonlight. They decided to move on the next day to give Sokka more time with his injuries and spent the day in the forest just outside of Gaoling.

Aang really doesn't like Gaoling.

He'd have thought that the people would love to help him. Of course he doesn't expect them to throw themselves at his feet but at least some decency couldn't be too much to ask, right? He isn't so sure about that anymore. He only wanted help. Nothing more. What is so wrong with helping another person? A fellow bender? When he asked for help at the Southern Air Temple, no one ever refused him. Everyone was happy to share their knowledge and never expected anything in return.

This is how it should be. This is how the Air Nomads do it - did it. So obviously, this is the right way. So why aren't people behaving like this then?

He thinks back to Wen Chu and Toph. Both refused to teach him and only ever wanted something for themselves out of it. Why couldn't they just do something without expecting anything back? Did the world really change this much in a hundred years?

No, whispers a voice in the back of his mind that mostly remains quiet, it has not. And he knows this. He's traveled to the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom before. Kuzon was different. Bumi too - although in another way. But the monks always said that altruism and peace are the highest standards along with spiritual alignment and the removal of worldly possessions. Although he struggled with the last one - but if the monks said it, it had to be right. Right?

He turns to Sokka after getting the boomerang back and gives him a wary look. He doesn't like it when the older boy starts to use that voice on him. And the last time he said that they needed to talk, he told him of the genocide of his people.

He's still not over it. Of course he isn't and he probably never will. There's a dull ache in his chest, just where his heart is beating, and it never leaves. It's a strange feeling, one he's never felt before and he supposes this is what loss feels like. He's never lost anything or anyone in his life before so he has no experience of what it is supposed to feel like.

He remembers the rage he felt at first. The white seething pain that wrung itself around his heart like a vine with a deadly iron grip, burning him from the inside out. His people are dead. All of them. And in this moment, he felt emotions he's never felt before. Fury, rage, pain so hot he felt like being cooked alive. Hate. The want for revenge...

But as quickly as they came, the emotions disappeared. This is wrong. What he felt is wrong, so, so wrong. The Air Nomads don't hate. The Avatar doesn't hate. The Air Nomads don't feel the need for revenge. The Avatar doesn't feel the need for revenge. The Air Nomads are different from the rest of the world, living life how it should be lived, free from pain and worldly concerns. And the Avatar is a symbol of that.

He can't feel the things he felt at this moment. He just can't.

So he pushed them away instead, locked them into a dark corner at the back of his mind where they can't bother him. Left was only grief and sadness and the devasting question of why? But this feels better. Better than the forbidden emotions from before, more natural, more how it should be.

He still hasn't fully accepted it. A whole nation gone... his whole life were the Air Nomads. Embracing their philosophy, their customs - he is one of them. Or rather, was. It couldn't just be gone. How can all of this just be gone? How can the world now be so different that his companion has never seen an Air Nomad before in his entire life? This is so wrong.

The Avatar is all about restoring balance. And with an entire people gone, there can't be balance. But how is he supposed to fix that?

He's not sure what to feel. On one side, there's grief and devastating loss. On the other, there's the determination to fix this mess and everything that is wrong with the world. But how? He has no clue where to start, there is just too much. He feels overwhelmed, caught in a storm just like that night with no way to control the winds. It still feels so surreal, like only a week has passed since he's run away from the Southern Air Temple. But there's this weird, dull feeling in his body ever since he woke up. Like something in him is broken, like a connection he wasn't aware of earlier but now is, severed, cut, torn. And he doesn't think that's the grief. No, he's felt it since the moment he opened his eyes in that iceberg.

It's too much to deal with. So he tries not to. He tries to push the feelings away, to concentrate on life now. Keep on talking, keep on smiling, keep on walking. This is the only way he knows how to deal with this. He's an airbender after all and airbenders evade and avoid confrontation at all costs. The voice is whispering to him again, saying that what he is doing isn't right, that it's only worsening everything. But it can't get much worse than it already is because if there is a rock bottom, he's already hit it. So he ignores it, surrounds himself with happier thoughts and as much distraction as he can.

Because if he really is the last airbender left, then it is his duty to keep the Air Nomad customs alive.

So he jumped at the opportunity of learning how to throw a boomerang. Sokka said that he needs to know how to defend himself without bending but Aang doesn't understand. Why would he have to hide his bending?

But he has the suspicion that this is exactly what Sokka wants to talk about. He walks back to where he first stood and positions himself like Sokka had shown him earlier. "Sure. What do you wanna talk about?" His voice is cautious, eyes focused on a spot in front of him.

The older boy clears his throat before speaking. "Well... you remember how we talked about not getting recognized? Because the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes finding out that you're back wouldn't be so great for you?" He nods. "I think you should take that more seriously."

The boomerang hits the tree again. Why can't he get this right?

"Aang?" he hears Sokka's voice after a few seconds of silence when he doesn't answer. "Are you hearing me?"

"Of course I am."

"Okay, then. I really think you should never, under any circumstances, airbend. What happened today can never happen again. We can only pray that Wen didn't go running around yelling that he's seen an airbender when he woke up."

Aang's brows furrow. "But I saved you. He would have hurt you really bad if I wouldn't have fought him off." Maybe Wen would have even killed Sokka. But he doesn't like to think about that because killing is wrong and no one should ever do it.

"My safety is not as important as protecting your identity." Sokka swallows hard as he says that but keeps himself composed, face serious with no trace of the humor Aang's got a glimpse of in the last few days. But how can he say that?

He lets his stretched arms fall back to his side, boomerang still in hand. "What? What are you talking about?"

Sokka looks equally as confused as he feels. "You're the Avatar. Your life is worth more than mine."

"No one's life is worth more than anyone else's. Everyone is equal." Everyone knows that, don't they? But Sokka only shakes his head before looking down at his lap where he sits with his legs crossed, a weird expression on his face. After a few moments, he meets his gaze again, blue against grey, and he looks like he wants to say something before deciding differently.

"Look - all I wanna say is that you should never airbend in public. And maybe you could also avoid running around, yelling that you're the Avatar. We're really lucky Toph didn't rat us out to the authorities. Or maybe she has and they're already combing the forest for us." A visible shudder goes through him at that thought.

"Why would it be so bad if the people knew I'm back?" Aang doesn't get it. The Avatar is a friend of the people, of all four nations. Why hide from them?

"I already told you, the Water Tribe and Fire-"

"But we're in the Earth Kingdom," he cuts him off, a little impatient. "Why shouldn't the people here know about me?"

"Because then we could leave a trail for the Fire Nation or the tribes to find."

"We have Appa. That won't be a problem." Why is Sokka making things so complicated? They can always just fly away. No one is able to follow a flying bison. And it's not like they're permanently settling down somewhere; they'll always be moving.

Sokka looks like he's battling with himself like there's something that he doesn't want to tell him.

"Sokka?"

He lowers his head, gripping his brown hair. There's definitely something going on there. "What are you not telling me?"

Finally looking up, Sokka sighs. "Look," he begins warily, forcing himself to meet Aang's gaze, "it's been a long time since you disappeared. And I don't know what people thought of the Avatar back then but now... what they think now might not be so positive."

Now Aang is thoroughly confused. What is he talking about? "What do you mean?"

"Well..." The older boy trails off, not able to look him in the eyes. "I was sorta hoping I could keep this from you but someone has to tell you eventually..." Sitting up a little straighter, he breathes out. "People lost hope. You disappeared, the Fire Nation took over almost the whole Earth Kingdom... it was always said that the Avatar would bring back peace. So the people waited. And waited, and waited for a long, long time. But he never came back - which is not your fault, by the way - but still. There's only so long that you can hope. And eventually, people grew accustomed to the idea that there might never be another Avatar again. And now that you're back..."

"So you're saying that me being back is weird?"

A nod.

Aang breaths out a sigh of relief. "Well, it's weird for me too," he offers. "If we tell them that, I'm sure they'll understand." He's glad it's not as bad as he feared it would be. But Sokka's face falls a little and that tiny slice of relief gets blown away in the wind. "No, you... it's not that simple. People are angry."

"At who?"

"At you."

What? Why are they angry with him? He knows he should have done better, shouldn't have been trapped in that iceberg but still. He does not understand.

Sokka looks like he's eaten a sour mango. He closes his eyes for a second before blurting out, "Because they think all of this is is your fault. That if you never left, things wouldn't have gotten as bad as they are now. That you left them. Abandoned them."

That he abandoned them? But he didn't abandon anyone! He didn't mean to go down in that storm, didn't mean to leave anyone behind or turn his back on the world. He's the Avatar, people love him, he's the bringer of peace and balance, cherished everywhere and this is so different from everything the monks taught him, everything he's read about the Avatar's history...

But is it really that surprising? If Monk Gyatso would have left him, how would he have felt?

Abandoned.

But Monk Gyatso didn't leave him. He left Monk Gyatso.

Aang swallows, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. He left the whole world behind just because he didn't like the idea of being separated from his friends. Because of some childish fit. This whole mess is his fault. A whole hundred years of war, of loss and devastation everywhere, are his fault.

He can't stand anymore. His legs give out under him, suddenly feeling like jelly, and he sinks to the ground and onto the soft grass glimmering in the moonlight.

His fault, his fault, his fault...

The mantra in his head won't stop repeating itself over and over again, taunting him with every word. The now familiar feeling of grief rises in him again, choking him and, unlike anger, feeling so cold that he thinks he'll never be warm again. He's transported back to that night on the beach and he can almost feel the rough sand under him and hear the crushing of the waves against the shore. But this time, he doesn't grieve for his lost nation. No, this time, he grieves for the world.

They sit in silence for a long time. He doesn't know how long exactly and he doesn't care. There's too much pain inside him, too much guilt, and he can't concentrate on anything other than that. It's eating him alive but he can't protest because he deserves it.

What kind of Avatar is he?

He wants to curl up in some corner and pretend he doesn't exist and it hurts, hurts, hurts and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.

There's a faint shuffling of clothes and feet in the grass. As he feels a hand grasping his shoulder lightly, squeezing comfortingly, he doesn't look up from where he hides his face behind his drawn-up legs.

"I'm really sorry, Aang." Sokka's voice is quiet and serious but with a warmth in it that he doesn't deserve. "I know you feel like this is your fault but it's not. The people just need someone to be angry at. You couldn't know. But you can fix this. We can fix this because I'm not leaving your side, buddy. We're in this together now. And the best way to go about this is to teach you all the other elements so that you can take on the Fire Lord with as few obstacles along the way as possible. And that includes hiding who you really are. It won't be forever. The world will know that you're back. Just not now. It's not the right time. But it will be. And then you'll save the world and bring back peace and balance."

He looks up at that, cautious and eyes full of unfallen tears. "You really think that?"

Sokka smiles. It's not sarcastic or like he just told a really good joke. It's genuine and tender and full of warmth. "Of course I do."

The knot in his chest loosens up at that, just a bit, and he feels like he can breathe again. If there's at least one person in the world who believes in him...

He still doesn't completely think that he can do this. But the thought of doing it feels better now.

And just at this very moment, there are footsteps in the grass a few feet behind Sokka. They both get up abruptly, Sokka taking the boomerang from where Aang had been clutching it in his hand the entire time. But they both relax their fighting stances at the sight of a familiar face coming towards them in the dark.

"Thought you guys were still around. Still need an earthbending teacher?"

—

"Come on, Twinkletoes, plant your feet on the ground!"

"Twinkletoes?"

"Twinkletoes. 'Cuz you're so light on your feet."

Aang grimaces at that but he supposes Toph is right, although he fails to see how there is anything wrong with that, given the fact that being light on your feet comes with many advantages. And he is an airbender after all.

(And a waterbender. And a firebender. And an earthbender.)

But the fact that he's supposedly able to bend earth doesn't make it any easier in praxis. He takes a stance, shifting his weight more onto his legs, just as his new teacher told him to do. It feels strange and wrong. He's supposed to be able to jump at any moment, to kick and stand on one foot. That's how it's always been his entire life. But Toph won't have any of it.

He concentrates on the earth under him, trying to feel it, to connect with it. There is something there, tugging at his chi, but it's faint and weak, not at all like his connection to the air around him. Lifting one foot, he stomps down, imagining in his mind the move he wants to accomplish. It works, the rock before him lifting off the ground, and Aang is momentarily relieved that he's at least able to do something. But then the rock crashes back down to the ground within a second and all relief vanishes.

Why can't he just get this right?

"Oh come on, a toddler can do more with accidental bending than that!" he hears Toph's frustrated voice. "Again: plant your feet on the ground - and firmly this time, I mean it -, concentrate and imagine what you want to do. You wanna lift this rock" - she points in the vague direction of said object - "and then punch it at that wall there. Got it?" He nods before remembering that she can't see it and then answers with a "Yes".

For what feels like the hundredth time (and it probably is), he takes his stance, trying to root his feet to the ground, ignoring his instincts telling him that he's doing it wrong, conjures up the image of a rock being punched in his mind, and then moves. The rock goes up in the air again, a little further this time but as he tries to punch it, it falls down and whirls up a bit of sand in the process.

(Wrong, wrong, wrong.)

Aang shifts out of the position and lets his arms hang uselessly beside him, shoulders dropped in defeat. Toph sighs, annoyed. "What's the problem? I thought you were the Avatar."

"I am!" He can't help but defend himself. It's an instinct kicking in but then the small voice that seems to not be so small anymore makes itself known by whispering but what kind? Maybe you don't deserve to be. "But that doesn't mean I'm good at it." And the voice wins, like it's always won in the past few days.

He kicks a small pebble in frustration and anger. Anger at Toph for having yelled at him non-stop these past few hours, anger at the stupid earth that just won't do as he says, and most of all, anger at himself. For not being able to properly earthbend, for not being more patient because an Air Nomad is always patient and for being a bad Avatar. Really, what kind is he when he can't even control one stupid rock?

Of course there is also the small problem that he left the whole world behind to descend into violence and death but he tries not to think about that.

Emphasis on tries. That little voice in his head is getting louder and louder by the day, getting harder to ignore, even if he tries his best. He lays awake at night, staring up at the stars, wondering if it's the same sky as a hundred years ago or if even that has changed. After Toph had shown up in the forest outside Gaoling, they had been heading east and were now in a canyon-like area with golden and red sandstone and little vegetation. And of course sand. He hates sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.

For the past few days, he's tried his best to bend the earth under his feet. He's come a little further than with Wen Chu back in the city where he wasn't even able to lift a single pebble but it's still pathetic. He's not used to being pathetic. Back when he learned airbending, it didn't trouble him at all. He was one of the best in his class and the monks showered him with praise constantly.

Praise is not something his new teacher is keen on giving. Instead, she prefers insulting and yelling to get him to do what she wants. He hates it, the constant humiliation because frankly, it does poke his ego. And then he gets angry again.

Angry because Toph is not making this any easier for him. Angry because he should be grateful that she agreed to teach him in the first place. Angry because he's so bad at this. Angry because he is angry - Air Nomads don't get angry and they certainly don't have an ego or something like pride, something he is all too aware of now and he hates it, hates it, hates it. But this leads him to be even angrier at himself because maybe he deserves all this. It's a vicious cycle.

To keep it short, all he feels right now is anger. It scares him; it's not supposed to be like this but it is. He just has to deal with it but it's so hard and overwhelming and when he lies awake at night, he feels the weight of it all come crashing down on him. He misses them, the Air Temples, his friends, Monk Gyatso, a simpler time when he didn't know who he really was, times of peace, his old friends Bumi and Kuzon and just everything. But there's no time to deal with this now, or rather, he doesn't want to.

He has responsibilities now, big ones that he can't just turn his back on even if that is all he wants to do, even if his instincts as an airbender, the element of avoidance, scream at him to do so. He should be grateful. For Sokka freeing him from that iceberg and taking him on this journey and for Toph for trying to teach him. And he is, he really is. But still.

Toph tilts her head. "You know, doubting yourself won't lead you to anything. It will only make this harder."

"Yeah but you've seen what I can do. Absolutely nothing."

"No, I haven't seen it," she answers without missing a beat but then continues more seriously, "Look, I know that earth is air's opposite. So that's probably why you're having so much trouble with this but just try. I mean, you kinda have to learn it, what with the Fire Nation and all. So, try to clear your mind, even if it's just for these few minutes, and focus. You can do it." This is the most gentle she's been ever since she started teaching him a few days ago and explaining to him the concept of forcing his will onto the earth, and he silently thanks her. He's not sure how much more yelling he can take.

He positions his feet again, breathes deep in and out, keeping Toph's friendly words in his mind, focusing on them. You can do it.

His foot lifts off the ground before connecting with it again, whirling up sand and other small pebbles. The rock heaves off the soil and before it can drop down again, he punches the air with his fist, sending it crashing into the side of the small canyon they're standing in.

"See! Told 'ya you could do it! Now do it again!"

He should be glad that he finally accomplished something but instead, he feels something prickling under his skin, tugging at his chi. He's the Avatar, master of all four elements. So why does the sensation of moving earth feel so wrong?

(Wrong, wrong, wrong.)

—

After a few hours of punching and stomping, Aang is now able to show more for his hard work. Toph seems satisfied for the day, even though she proclaims that he'd need years of training to get even close to her level (and he tries to ignore what that means for his chances of taking on the Fire Lord), and they finally decide to settle down as the sky above them begins to turn dark with faint traces of red and purple hues from the sinking sun.

They haven't seen Sokka, whose injuries are now fortunately reduced to only a few scratches, in a while. "Maybe he's just a bad hunter. Or he got lost." Toph shrugs. But Aang knows that Sokka is actually a very capable hunter and if he really is lost, they should try to find him.

They find him stuck in a hole.

("If you heard me converting to vegetarianism, no, you didn't.)

—

Just exactly how stupid do they think he is?

Zuko glances at the figures hiding behind a bush, seeing them quickly move out of the corner of his eye. He sighs and resists the urge to roll his eyes. They've been following him all day, sneaking and hiding behind the sparse vegetation - because a half-withered hedge or a thin three are great hiding places -, staying just in the corner of his peripheral vision. They're not exactly subtle. And it's their luck that he doesn't feel like killing today. Or rather, that he's had enough of killing for one day.

He didn't mean to do it, really. But then Gow and the rest of his gang kept Lee hostage and he just couldn't bear it. He had to do something, not only because half the village, including the boy's parents, looked up to him in hope, but because Lee didn't deserve to die or be forced into the army at such a young age. And because Gow and his crew needed to be taught a lesson.

He hates people who abuse their power. He should know. And as much as he didn't mean to get into a fight, he wasn't able to keep the satisfaction at bay at the gang's shocked faces when he fought back. He can still feel it even now, a few hours later. But that was quickly doused by what came next.

His rage got the best of him, with Gow refusing to yield and one of his henchmen holding a knife to Lee's throat to convince him to give up. But Zuko isn't one to just lay down and die. So he let his inner fire out, forming a wide circle of golden flames, throwing them at every single one of the gang. He can still see the terror in their eyes, smell their burned flesh, hear their almost inhuman screams. Most of them ran off, some were consumed by the fire. He didn't mean to kill them but he has only so much self-control before he breaks.

What he can also still see are the shocked expressions of the villagers quickly turning into hatred and disgust. They stepped back from him as if they were afraid he'd burn them next - and maybe that was smart of them -, whispered hateful things to each other about him, didn't let him out of their sight, ready to attack the now discovered firebender among them.

But that's not what hurt him. He's used to the hatred by now. If he wouldn't be, he'd be long dead. The feeling is nothing new to him - first his life in the Fire Nation where everything was defined by hate. The hate for the other nations and elements, the hate for the weak and merciful, the hate a sister has for her own brother and a father for his son. Then when he'd been on his ship - his anger at himself for being weak and for not keeping his mouth shut when he should have, for being soft. And finally, the hatred now - for living a peasant life, for firebenders and their nation, for the war.

It feels like hate and distrust have accompanied him his whole life. Anger is all he knows. And he doesn't know if he should be glad for it or not.

But what really hurt him is the look Lee and his parents gave him after he'd fought the corrupt guards off. It was one of gratitude and relief. Not that he expected them to fall to their knees and worship him - he wouldn't even know what to do if they did that -, he half expected their reaction because that's what always happens when he shows people what element he bends (not that that happens often) but it still hurt when the kind people who took him in just the day before, the lively boy he had taught how to use his dao swords, looked at him as if he were the most disgusting person in the world. As if he wasn't worth a simple thank you, as if he broke their trust. And perhaps he did. Maybe he really is worthless.

A rustling beside him forces his thoughts to concentrate on what matters now. A figure moves quickly, then a twig breaks, the sound being loud in the silence of this terrain where it's too hot and dry for most animals. A muffled sound of something definitely human reaches his ears. He sighs again. Alright, fine. If they won't leave him alone, he'll at least find out what they want. He's had enough.

Zuko turns to the bush currently serving as a hiding place for whoever is following him and raises his voice. "Alright, come out. I know you're there and I'm getting tired of it." He doesn't shift into a stance but he does move his feet just a little further apart, grabs the bag on his back a little tighter, in case he has to move quickly and defend himself.

For a moment, it's still. He doesn't take his eyes off the large bush, subconsciously angling his head so that the good side of his face is facing the plant for better vision. Then, after a few moments, the leaves begin to rustle before three people emerge from the green.

The first one to come out is a boy he guesses to be around his age with big blue eyes, some purple bruises on his dark skin, and brown hair in something that not quite looks like a ponytail. It actually reminds him a bit of his time at sea where he'd worn a phoenix plume out of shame for losing an Agni Kai. But he's had to cut it off out of fear of being recognized in the Earth Kingdom, leaving him with shaggy black hair that sometimes obscures his vision.

The second person is a boy with a straw hat so large, Zuko wonders how he can even see. He's skinny, definitely younger, and has to be uncomfortably hot under his long-sleeved green tunic. Then a girl comes out, smaller by several heads with bangs hanging in her face reminding him of his own, only that for her it has to be impossible to get a clear look at her surroundings. Not very practical, he thinks.

All in all, they don't look dangerous and like a threat to him. He's sure he could take them. Maybe thieves trying their luck on an unlucky passerby?

"Who are you? What do you want?" Maybe they want to wait for nightfall and for him to go to sleep. Only would they really follow him all the way out here, several hours from the next village, only to steal what few possessions he has? It's not like he exactly looks like he has much.

"We, uh..." the boy with the hat begins, "we saw you firebend. Back at the village."

Oh. So this is what this is about. He crooks his only eyebrow. "And? Come to give me a lesson on how all firebenders are evil?" If that's why they've come, he'll teach them a lesson of his own. He's so damn tired of it even if deep down, he knows he deserves it.

"Nope. Just wanted to talk to you about it," the girl says, earning her a glance from the oldest of the trio. This only confuses Zuko more. Why do they want to talk about his bending if not to tell him how wrong and evil it is? It makes no sense.

"Yes, we wanted to talk. To you. About it," the first one continues, mildly awkward and seeming like he doesn't know what to say. He looks at the guy next to him and the one with the blue eyes nods, lips pressed together in a firm line. He seems to be the leader, the one the others look up to. No wonder, he does look to be the oldest and most experienced out of the three.

"And you came all the way out here to just do that? To just talk?" He doesn't buy it. There has to be a deeper motivation behind this. "You're not exactly subtle in your stalking, you know. You should think about another career path." They all look a bit sheepish at that, except for the girl who just blows some long strands of dark hair out of her eyes and mutters something under her breath.

"Yes, we... see, I'm a firebender too," the younger boy blurts out, cautious grey eyes trained on his golden ones. For a moment, Zuko can't speak. A firebender. A firebender that isn't him. Here. Deep in the Earth Kingdom. Right before him.

"What?" That would be... he doesn't know how to feel about that. Of course the Earth Kingdom had been conquered by the Fire Nation years ago but this far inland and so close to the Si Wong Desert, not many firebenders walk about.

"I'm a firebender." The words are repeated but he still isn't sure if he's heard them right.

"Out here? In the Earth Kingdom?"

The boy nods. "Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but some of my ancestors were firebenders. I'm from the colonies, you know. And no one in my family - my living one, I mean - is one so I'm kinda alone in this. And it's not exactly something to parade around right now." Oh, he doesn't need to be reminded of that. A weird look that Zuko can't quite place hushes over the other bender's face.

Maybe it's all a farce? A ploy to get him to do or reveal something? What's their deal? They don't look like they'd be capable of manipulation but Zuko's met all kinds of people. "Really? Prove it."

The two guys exchange glances before the younger one answers, "Well, you see, I've never had a teacher or a chance to learn any firebending. So I don't really know how to... bend a flame. I was actually kinda hoping you could teach me."

Is that guy out of his mind? Just walking up to random people and asking them to teach him? But then again, firebenders really aren't popular right now and if Zuko's the only one he's seen around for miles - wait. Something doesn't add up. "I thought you were from the colonies. Plenty of firebenders there."

"But they never wanted to teach me. They're not exactly nice to Earth Kingdom people."

"So what makes you think I will?"

He shrugs his shoulders at that. "Because you're nice?"

Oh Agni. His whole demeanor right now makes Zuko look like Prince Charming. His eyebrow only moves further up. "And where exactly have you gotten that from? You've seen what happened in the village. It wasn't what I'd call nice."

"Yes, exactly, we've seen what happened in the village." Now the girl speaks up. "You fought a bunch of dunderheads threatening a little boy and then left the rest of the village alone and went on your merry way. You're nicer than most firebenders." Oh, if only she knew. She's so wrong.

"And just because I'm nice I'm willing to dedicate my time to teaching you?"

"Yes?" the boy says, but gets interrupted by the older guy who's kept quiet up to this point. "Look, you don't seem like you're with the Fire Nation. You look like an ordinary traveler. Who just happens to be a firebender. So we thought you'd be our best shot."

It does make sense now. A boy from the colonies, born of Earth but with some mixed blood in him and given the power to bend fire - it's common enough, the story of many people. He's been to some colonies; the Fire people don't exactly treat those who aren't related to someone on the mainland well or offer any help in learning how to bend, even to firebenders. Purity matters most to them, and those born of Earth with Fire in their blood aren't pure, not to them. He feels sorry for him, he really does. It's hard, not being in harmony with your own element. Zuko knows that all too well.

But still.

"I'm sorry. I can't help you."

The bender looks sad at that, really sad, but that look is nothing new to him. He won't break just because someone gives him puppy eyes. "But why not?"

"Because I have things to do. I can't just randomly agree to teach the next person who comes up to me." It's a half-truth. He doesn't have things to do, in fact, he's looking for things to do. The lack of purpose is driving him insane and has for the past year since he left his ship. But he can't just agree to train random people. That could get him in all kinds of trouble and he hasn't survived all these years in exile by being generous.

The boy looks like he wants to argue, opening his mouth to say something but quickly gets cut off by the other one. "That's okay. Just think about it. You'd be doing us a huge favor." He looks up at the darkening evening sky. "We'll set up camp not far from here. You'll find us if you change your mind."

And with that, he grabs the younger boy by the arm, leading him in the other direction, the girl following closely behind.

—

He sets up camp not far from his encounter with the three teenagers and stares into the fire, orange flames a stark contrast to the darkness of night. It's a starless night, clouds covering the sky and hiding the moon. When he turns and looks behind him, he can see another light not that far from him and he's sure they can see his fire too. But he doesn't care. They're no threat to him.

Zuko drives his hands through his hair, feeling dust and sweat covering the black strands. He doesn't know what to do. On one side - the logical one - he knows he should just carry on and ignore them. He wants nothing to do with them - with anyone. Human contact isn't something he's used to.

Truthfully, he never has been. All his life he was been ignored and dismissed. As the son of the second born of Azulon, he simply wasn't anyone important. Sure, he was a prince, but not the crown prince or the son of the future Fire Lord. He was just an extra heir in case something went wrong. And then something did go wrong and suddenly, he was the heir apparent, the future Fire Lord, the one with all the high expectations of a whole nation on his shoulders. And he still wasn't as talented as Azula, as ruthless as Ozai, as charming as Iroh. He was nothing. A failure. The black koala sheep in the family.

He's never been very sociable in the first place. He's awkward and tends to say things he doesn't mean and he blushes too fast and stumbles over his own words. Not a very princely quality. But after his mother left - and he has come to peace with the fact that he'll most likely never find out what happened to her that strange night -, he withdrew himself even more from society, retreated to his own personal shell. Azula was cruel, teasing and burning him, even shocking him with small bolts of electricity when he wasn't paying attention. Mai and Ty Lee were nice, especially Ty Lee and he remembers talking to her about wanting to run away and join a circus. It was a stupid childhood fantasy, but one it was fun to occasionally indulge in. Conversation with Mai was harder but also more rewarding and he did enjoy sitting with her in silence and simply not saying anything. But they were still Azula's friends, not his.

Zuko briefly wonders how they're doing now, how they have reacted to the news of his... disappearance a little over a year ago. His thoughts wander to his family, how his father and sister might have taken the news but quickly dismisses them when they decide to go in a direction he closed off months ago.

His time on the ship wasn't exactly the best help for dealing with social situations, seeing as the only people he came in contact with in those two years had been sailors and the occasional vendor. At least he'd learned a few colorful courses.

But that was his old life as Prince Zuko. Now he is Lee the traveler.

He's been avoiding people ever since he woke up on that beach. Partly out of fear that someone could recognize him as the Fire Prince by his scar or as a firebender by the color of his eyes, but mostly out of guilt. The people in the Earth Kingdom are suffering and it's his nation's fault. He's been to many places, never resting too long in one spot, and he's seen it all - burn and rape victims, poverty and people only one missed meal away from starvation. Earthbenders, forbidden to bend their element, forced to embrace the customs of another culture, executed for speaking their mind. Children without parents, living in huts only days away from collapsing. The fear in their eyes whenever a soldier got too close.

It's been hard. The hardest time in his life so far, even topping the period after his mother left and he was a scared and lonely 12-year-old boy with no answers but a million questions. But at least then he had a whole palace to hide in, a turtle-duck pond to sit by and a familiar city to explore. And even on his ship, he never had to go hungry or freeze or sleep on the ground.

The first few weeks after being stranded, he almost died several times. Not knowing how to hunt and which plants to eat and which to avoid, he poisoned himself many times and regularly went days without a single bite. Using his bending to warm himself proved to consume too much energy so he'd given it up eventually and tried to ignore the cold. A hard task for a firebender; he'd rather boil alive than freeze. Animals weren't his friends either, so it wasn't rare that he'd had to scale a tree and wait for the beast to lose interest.

But animals weren't the only problem.

It didn't happen all too often but sometimes, he'd venture too far in an abandoned temple in the search of shelter from the howling wind or find himself deep in the middle of a forest with the smell of something wrong in the air. He met angry spirits, upset by the lack of balance in the world. Sometimes, they tried to lull him in with soft voices and faint whispers of something, promising him all kinds of things. Other times, they'd straight out attacked with a roar that didn't belong in this world. He barely got out of those encounters alive and with new memories to haunt his dreams.

His nightmares proved to be the hardest part. He needed his sleep to regain some energy and to gather enough courage to face the dangers the next day would inevitably bring. But sleep only kicked him when he was already lying on the ground. He'd wake up panting in a cold sweat with a sometimes silent and sometimes not so silent scream on his lips, the memory of searing pain and burning flesh fresh in his mind. His hand would come up to his left side, feel the ruined flesh there that marked him a coward, a weakling, a failure, a disgrace. His mark of shame. Then - and he would never admit this to anyone - he'd curl up, longing for a mother long gone and simpler times, and cry himself to sleep.

The wound in his chest where his bruised and abused heart is supposed to beat still hurts and fills him with a pain so deep he feels it in every single one of his veins. The sense of betrayal, of broken trust. Of a son longing for his father's love and approval, a son who only got hate and disgust instead. He feels shame, shame at having to bear this terrible mark and he stopped counting how many times he wanted to sink his nails into the scarred skin and cut it out just so he wouldn't have to at least bear the physical badge of his failure. He has now accepted it as part of himself, something he'll never get rid of, but the scar still throbs occasionally as if to mock him.

Looking people in the eye was nearly impossible in those first few weeks. The only people he's been around after receiving his scar was his crew and they quickly got used to the sight of a half-ruined face, the left eye twisted in a permanent scowl. They were also too scared to react to it openly because, disgraced or not, royal blood is still royal blood. But the people in the Earth Kingdom didn't have this fear.

Some would look at him in disgust and quickly look elsewhere. Others stared in morbid curiosity. But the worst ones were the ones who'd pity him; see the angry red scar and get a soft look in their eyes. Oh poor boy, they'd say, have you been hurt by the Fire Nation? Yes, he has, but not in the way they think. So he'd mutter something inaudible and avoid the topic because they wouldn't understand. He's been hurt by his nation the same way they have been but at the same time, their situations couldn't be more different from his and he feels ashamed.

The very nation that told him all his life that the war was their way of bringing prosperity to the world, of sharing the greatness that was the Fire Nation with the underdeveloped Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes, the country that had protected the rest of the world from the dangerous Air Nomads - it was destroying the world. He'd never been outside of the Caldera before and only ever docked at harbors for a brief period of time but now that he was in the Earth Kingdom, he wasn't able to just look away and close his eyes. And he saw how badly the people in the colonies actually lived, how cruel and heartless the soldiers he had admired and thought of as brave in his childhood were. The real world was nothing like what school taught him and he'd been forced to open his eyes.

At first, he refused to believe it. But as time went on, he wasn't able to ignore the facts any longer, no matter how soul-crushing they were. All his life had been a lie. A terrible, horrible lie.

And he is the prince of that lie, the heir to the throne of a nation bringing chaos to the world, the one responsible for all of this. But he is powerless, unable to do anything. It feels like the guilt eats him alive, slowly gnaws at his insides until nothing is left.

So he avoids people because he doesn't deserve their pity or the kindness that is still left in some and wanders through forests and mountains alone in search of nothing, just like he sailed around the world on his ship with no goal in mind, no aim, no chance to ever reclaim his honor. Because what is he to do now? He has nothing left. His crew is either dead or wandering around aimlessly as well, he's not a prince anymore but he also can't settle down somewhere and live as a peasant. He can't stand still because the last time he did that, he got burned alive so he has to always move, move, move.

He stretches out a hand, feels for a familiar energy, and gives the dying fire more heat, making the flames bigger and brighter. His thoughts wander back to Lee, hoping that the boy is doing okay now. He thinks of another boy not that far from here, asking him for help just like Lee had. But with the difference that that boy knows his identity. Well, not his full one, Zuko supposes, but enough. And that hasn't scared him away, only drawn him closer instead.

Maybe he should agree to his offer. It did feel nice to see Lee free, even if it came at the expense of his hate for him. But that doesn't matter. So maybe he should bear the pain and help the other one out too. After all, this is the least he could do to make up for the crimes of his nation. Perhaps this is the change he's been searching for ever since, even if he'd never known what exactly he was looking for.

So Zuko rises, packs up his things, douses the flames, and sets off in the direction of the other fire burning bright in the darkness of night.

—

An inhuman roar fills her ears and the sound travels through every vein in her body, making it tremble and shiver. Katara is sure that if sound could elicit pain, she'd be in a lot by now but she ignores the way goosebumps form on her skin and how the hair on her neck stands up straight. Her water whip strikes dark green scales and the beast screams again but doesn't back down. Around her, her crew is running around the ship in a panic, trying to fight the giant monster coming out of the sea.

A sea serpent, Katara thinks and silently curses her luck. Of course they'd have to encounter one of those because the search for her brother couldn't go any better than it already does. Sea Serpents at the poles are no rarity but they're not that far from the coast of the Southern Earth Kingdom and usually, there are no serpents here. Or so she thought.

She spreads out her arms before bringing them together again in front of her body and a wave raises behind her, higher and higher until it rolls towards the sea monster with inescapable power. It's forced to back down and vanishes into the depths of the sea for a few precious seconds before emerging again and attacking with a determination as if they personally insulted it.

She springs to the side to avoid the giant teeth heading her way but the man behind her isn't as fast. With horror, she watches as massive fangs bury themselves in his side, tearing open flesh and splashing blood in every direction. But instinct takes over and she reaches for her knife before stabbing the beast in the side of its massive head, barely able to penetrate its tough scales. It lets go of its victim, even though the man is beyond saving now, and turns his attention to her. She strikes with another whip before gathering up enough water, twisting her arms and turning it into deadly icicles, hurling them at the serpent at a rapid pace.

The icicles hit their goal, but that doesn't stop the monster. Instead, it charges towards her, face set in a haunting grimace that burns itself into the back of her eyelids. She hears the screams of the others around her, sees someone shooting a jet of water at the beast out of the corner of her eye, another man coming up to stab it with a spear.

The sea serpent comes closer and closer and he should be here by now, why is time moving so slow-

The last thing she sees is death reflected in unnatural glowing eyes.

Notes:

So, Zuko's here and Katara's in trouble, that would conclude the 'intro part' of this fic. Next chapter is when the real plot starts!

Chapter 5: Four

Notes:

Posting a little earlier as I won't be able to post next week. Hope you enjoy! This is where the plot picks up its pace.

Chapter Text

Pain, pain, pain.

There's sand under her fingers and something sticky, a breeze blowing and making her shiver, reaching skin that shouldn't be exposed under her tunic to the weather but somehow is. The sound of waves crashing against the shore reaches her ears and birds are calling her name. Strange birds that don't sound like birds for some reason.

"Katara? Can you hear me?"

But birds can't speak. Why are they talking to her? How do they know her name?

"Katara!"

Never in a million years would she have thought that opening her eyes could be so exhausting. Why does it suddenly feel like the most difficult thing in the world; her eyes don't react to her commands, her eyelids are like heavy lids-

There's blue above her. Nothing but blue. It shines and reflects something in it, some light, perhaps the sun, but she can't figure out what. Then they're moving - why are they moving, no, don't go, come back.

She tastes salt and something metallic in her mouth, her throat feeling as raw and dry as a desert. She tries to breathe, expanding her lungs, and oh it hurts, hurts, hurts, make it stop-

"Katara! Hang on, I got you!"

Why do these birds know who she is? It doesn't make any sense. But the only thing she can focus on now is the pain in her lungs and side and the unnatural cold there. She knows the cold, revels in it, but this is something different; like she'll never be warm again, like she got caught in a blizzard naked, like the spirits are punishing her.

Something forces itself under her back and knees, something warm but as she's lifted into the air, she can't help but struggle. It hurts, let me go, let me-

But then everything above her blurs and she is plunged into darkness once again.

—

The faint sound of voices reaches her ears, dulled and low. At first, the quiet talking is the only thing she perceives, then her other senses come back. She is still cold but there's something warm wrapped around her like a blanket and she can't help but snuggle closer to the gentle warmth. But the motion causes a wave of pain to force its way from her left side into the rest of her body, making her whimper, reminding her just how dry her throat actually is.

"She's awake," a voice belonging to a girl says. There are footsteps and the shuffling of clothes before she feels the presence of someone beside her. "Katara?" It's the same voice the birds used and-

That voice is no bird.

She opens her eyes, easier this time, and stares into a blue that mirrors her own.

"Sokka?"

How could she not recognize her own brother?

He grins widely before wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, almost crushing her beneath his weight. He mumbles something against her neck, his breath warm on her skin, and although she can't understand much, she has a pretty good idea of what he is talking about. But her left side protests against the sudden contact and she hisses in pain, causing him to let go and lean back. "I was so, so worried! Thought you were dead there for a second and we don't have a healer here-"

"Water," Katara cuts him off. "Bring me water." Her throat is about to murder her, even those four words are hard to speak. He gets up in a hurry and she tries to sit up but only gets a pained groan out of her efforts. He comes back and kneels down, helping her into a sitting position, and holds the water canteen against her lips. She takes it from him and gulps it down greedily, the cool liquid doing wonders for her sore throat.

"What happened?" he asks, his eyes not leaving her for a second. She sets down the canteen, hand reaching out to find the necklace around her neck. Good. She didn't lose it. She pushes the green blanket over her further down to reveal ruined clothes.

Her blue tunic has many holes in it and is completely torn on the left side, exposing skin to the cool air of early spring and showing the side of her breast bindings. Large bandages are wrapped around her middle, the white tainted by dark red at some spots.

Then the memories come back to her. Sokka missing, her search on the boat, a sea serpent.

She has found Sokka.

Katara looks up at him and this time, it's she who pulls him into a hug. He struggles for a bit, clearly not expecting the move but then embraces her. When the pain gets too strong, she lets go and works on pulling the bandages off. She's never considered herself a healer but she certainly does possess the skill and it comes in handy from time to time. As soon as the bandages are off, she holds back a shocked gasp, even though she can't help the tremble that makes its way through her body.

The flesh on her side is torn, deep cuts marring the tan skin, glowing bright red, creating a stark contrast. Looking closer, she can almost see the white-yellow of muscle tissue under the first layers of her skin and although she's never been squirmish (growing up in an icy tundra, skinning animals was a part of everyday life), seeing such deep wounds on her own body is a whole other thing than seeing it on an animal or wounded warrior.

Katara takes a deep breath, summons her element to her fingers, and holds it against the wound, the water glowing faintly. It hurts and she hisses before closing her eyes to concentrate solely on the healing process, biting her lip while doing so. She can feel the chi moving in her body along its pathways, flowing to the open wounds like a river to the open sea, mending the skin together and soothing disturbed energy.

It stings and pulls and burns all at the same time and for a moment she wishes she was better at this. Unlike waterbending, healing is not something that she excels at. Sure, she knows the basics and is fairly competent but her method is still too crude, too harsh, not like the soothing, delicate force it's supposed to be. But she's always been more interested in the violent side of her bending anyway.

The process is exhausting and it's not long before she commands the water back into the canteen. The injuries are better now and when she experimentally moves, it doesn't hurt as much anymore but they're still not completely healed. She has to give it a few more sessions.

"What happened?" Sokka, who's still sitting next to her and hasn't said a word during the whole process, looks at her with wide blue eyes.

"My ship got attacked by a sea serpent. And then I woke up here." She lets her gaze wander around, taking in her surroundings for the first time since regaining consciousness. They're on a beach, the sun is high up in the sky and to her other side is the beginning of a forest. A few feet behind Sokka sit three other people she didn't notice before, all looking at her with curiosity. There's a fire burning in the middle of their circle and bags and bedrolls are lying scattered around.

"How long was I out?" She pinches her eyes against the bright light of the sun in an attempt to determine the time. She is utterly lost.

"A few hours. I found you this morning not far from here. Why were you on a ship?"

The serpent attacked in the dead of night, meaning she had to have been at least a few hours in the water before stranding. How is she not dead? But more importantly - why does Sokka act so surprised?

"To look for you of course. You went missing. What happened to you?" She asks the question with a bit more force than necessary, but she doesn't care. Here he's sitting, calm as the pond in the spirit oasis while she's been searching relentlessly, clinging to a desperate hope.

He looks a bit unsure at that - not a bit, very unsure - and throws a glance at the people behind him.

There's a man sitting there who looks to be around Sokka's age with black hair and a scar on the left side of his face that looks to be a deep burn, pulling his eye into a permanent scowl. A victim of the Fire Nation? Next to him is a girl in a bright green tunic and bangs so long she can't possibly see through these. Her eyes don't focus on Katara but on a spot right beside her and she can't help the feeling that there is something off about her. But the oddest one in the group is a boy who seems to be closer to the girl in age than to the other man or Sokka, with eyes so light she can almost see through them. But the strangest thing about him is his bald head and the blue arrow tattoed across it. What a weird group.

"Well, I..." Sokka stammers and her eyes dart back to him.

"Did they kidnap you?" But that wouldn't make sense because then he wouldn't be running around free and the three maybe-captors currently staring at them would do something, maybe hold a knife to her throat or tie her up.

Before he can answer, the girl snorts in amusement. "Why would we kidnap Snoozles? To get a human alarm clock to wake us up with his heavy snoring?" The others snicker and her brother throws at them an offended "Hey! I don't snore that loudly!"

He does but that's not important right now. "Do you have amnesia? Have you forgotten who you are? Have they hit you on the head?" Her hands grasp the part of his anatomy in question, turning it to the side to look for possible injuries. He shrugs her off. "No! No one's kidnapped me. I went all by myself."

She shoots him a look. "Then who are they?"

"I'm Aang! And you must be Sokka's sister Katara! He spoke so much of you when you were blacked out-" the boy speaks up but gets cut off by a dark look thrown his way.

"Look, Katara, it's complicated-"

"Then explain it to me."

Sokka sighs and opens his mouth for a reply that she's sure will not be what she wants to hear, but she's had enough. "I deserve at least that. I was three weeks on that goddamn ship, not knowing where you are or if you're even alive! Tulek didn't even want to let me go, I had to fight him tooth and nail for it. Sokka - what the fuck?"

She loves her brother, she really does, and she's glad to see him alive and well but it stirs something inside her. Three weeks she's spent looking for him and worrying every single second about him. Does he even know what he's put her through?

"It wasn't easy for me either! I didn't want to leave you behind but I had to!" He doesn't sound as angry as she does. Sokka has always had a better grip on his temper than she had but that doesn't stop the firmness and tension from showing in his voice.

She crooks an eyebrow. "Leave me behi- what are you talking about?"

He sighs again and closes his eyes for a second. "I knew you wouldn't understand. And I didn't really have a choice."

Now she is utterly and hopelessly confused. "Wouldn't understand what?"

He looks over his shoulder and meets the gaze of the boy, holding it for a second before nodding. "Promise me you won't freak out," he says and turns back to her, nervously glancing at the water canteen next to her, "or do anything rash. Just listen to me and try to understand." She only furrows her brow in confusion. What is he hiding?

"Promise me, Katara. This situation... it's a really big deal. And I know what we've been taught growing up and what Tulek and Arnook want to do and how you think about that. I didn't want to bring you into this but now you're here... you're my sister and I want to trust you. I need to trust you. So please promise me, Katara. Please."

Sokka is only getting more cryptic by the second. She has a feeling she won't like what he has to say but now that she's finally found him, she won't let him go that easily and she damn sure will find out why he went missing in the first place. And even though Katara is a little mad at him for supposedly leaving her behind because she apparently wouldn't get his reasoning, he is still her brother and deserves her trust. He can be an idiot at times but when it comes to serious matters, she can count on him.

"I promise."

—

She doesn't know what to feel. She also doesn't know what she expected to hear in the first place, but 'finding the Avatar' was not it.

The Avatar? The one who vanished a hundred years ago, leaving the world to fall into a century of war and violence? And now he's back? Has been hiding not too far from her home the whole time? It seems surreal. Apparently going on a fishing trip is all it takes to rescue the world's last hope for peace.

Who would've thought?

The setting sun creates a spectacle of lights on the steadily darker growing sky, impressive reds and oranges color the evening hours. Katara takes a look over her shoulder at said savior of the world, digging her feet in the sand where she's sitting on the beach, a good distance away from the others. She needs time alone, time to think.

What should she do now?

She has no way of going back to the South Pole. No ship, no money, nothing. Not even clothes; she had to borrow a black shirt from the man with the scar - Zuko. Her crew is either dead or also stranded somewhere and she hopes they're okay. It's a miracle she is alive, so how do the others hold up? They weren't the nicest people to be around, especially not as a woman on a ship, but they're still people. Her people, her tribe. And now she's responsible for their death.

A wave reaches her feet, wetting her shoes, making her shiver and miss her warm winter parka. The shirt she's wearing is too big but at least it keeps her moderately warm and has a pleasant smell of wood and salt.

If the situation wasn't so dire, she'd laugh.

Here she is, stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no way back home but the Avatar within reach. No one ever really believed that he'd appear again but they certainly dreamt about it. She remembers Arnook's and Tulek's meetings - meetings she of course wasn't allowed to attend because sexism is such a great thing, but still overheard in niches of the palace and behind curtains. Or Sokka told her about it. And it's not like Arnook and Tulek kept their plans secret, all but the exact details were pretty obvious to anyone in the tribe.

If the Avatar ever came back - in form of the last airbender or a newborn in the Water Tribes, which of course was the preferred option -, he was to be brought to the leaders of the tribes to work out a plan to free the world of the Fire Nation and its conspirers (and that includes the colonies). That plan mainly consists of overthrowing the Fire Lord, seizing control of the Fire Nation, and then executing its political leaders and everyone still resisting, especially if they were firebenders. The same thing would happen to the colonies - so basically most parts of the Earth Kingdom.

Katara is a princess, a princess of her tribe and its people and she has duties and responsibilities. Even though she is a woman (or maybe because of that), she is a warrior and that means fighting for her tribe, for the world. And the chance to freedom is only a few feet away from her. If she could just convince him to come with her, then the world would be one step closer to peace. But she's already tried to talk to him, to tell him of their plan, but Sokka had been faster than her, having had a head start of almost a month.

When she approached Aang earlier, he told her that Sokka already filled him in. He was in agreement that overthrowing the Fire Lord is something that he has to do, but not with the help of the Water Tribes and their current view of the world. Sokka shot her a worried look then. She's always known that he was a bit reluctant to share some of the tribe's views, but this? She definitely did not expect this betrayal.

Because a betrayal it definitely is. He found the Avatar so close to home, in their own waters, and then brought him here to land occupied by the Fire Nation. Closer to the enemy. He could have fulfilled a century-long-dream; the tribes would have been ecstatic, festivals would've been held for days with endless feasts. And then they would have worked on their plan, finally.

But he chose not to. And for what? For the personal belief that the tribes go too far?

Katara can't understand this way of thinking. He is a prince. Sokka the prince comes above Sokka the human. It is how it is, even if it's hard to accept. There are many things she doesn't like about her tribe but it is still her home, her people. There is nothing above that, she has to fulfill a duty. She can't believe how selfish he is. How does he want to defeat the Fire Nation without the help of the Water Tribes? The colonies won't be able to fight back. She's not even sure they fought back at all in the first place. And the Air Nomads - oh well.

And now the most powerful weapon and being in the entire world is against that plan, a plan that would work. Maybe not without losses but together with the Avatar, Tulek and Arnook and their armies could have done it. It's all going to waste, all of it. Katara can't believe it.

This has been her whole life, this is how she was raised. And she knows that Sokka can say the same, just with two more years of experience. So why isn't he thinking the same thing? Why isn't he seeing the bigger picture? Why isn't he fighting for his tribe? Tulek would be ashamed. Dad would be ashamed.

Of course she could always try to grab Aang and force him to come with her to the South Pole. But that plan only works in theory. First of all, she'd have three others to fight against, four really if she counts Aang himself. And while she is a strong bender, she doubts she could take them all at once. Even though she is certain that Sokka would never seriously hurt her. But a pissed off Avatar is not a good basis for any plan. How would she even get back home? Surfing on a wave whilst holding a struggling boy? Floating on an ice floe, praying not to die of hypothermia or get eaten by a sea monster? Yeah, good luck with that.

No, she has to be smart about this. Try to convince Aang, stick around and wait for her opportunity, however it'll present itself. It's not like she has another choice if she doesn't want to wander around alone in enemy territory. And it's not like this whole situation is a complete waste of time - Aang is learning all the elements. He has a teacher for firebending and earthbending and now with her appearance, he'll learn how to bend the most soothing of the elements. That will certainly come in handy when she does find the chance to subdue him; a trained Avatar is better than an untrained one - and also considerably harder to subdue but she'll find a way. She always does. There's a silver lining in every dark cloud.

—

The waterbender confuses him.

She keeps her distance, clearly feeling uncomfortable with their little group and out of her depth, not talking much and keeping to herself. But then she comes and helps prepare their food, skinning animals, combing the area for edible plants and fruits. She takes their clothes, stitching up holes, washing and drying them with her bending. She heals scratches Aang obtains during their lessons, running her glowing hands along pale skin. She helps feed Appa and while still a little wary of the giant creature - he can't blame her, he feels the same -, makes an effort to pet him.

What she doesn't do, however, is relax.

He can see it in her eyes, constantly darting around nervously, as if expecting something bad to happen, crystal blue reflecting the bright sunlight or glow of the flames at night. What she fears exactly - an attack, an ambush, the heat death of the universe, he doesn't know. He can see it in her posture, stiff, with her arms protectively wrapped around herself. He can hear it in her voice, cold and humorless, uncertain, serious.

He understands her, or at least a certain part of how she feels. He himself still hasn't fully adjusted to the group, this new circle of people who had forced themselves into his life. It's unfamiliar, having someone to talk to, waking up in the middle of the night and hearing the snores and even breaths of the others, preparing dinner together. Not being alone.

He's been alone all his life. While his childhood and then his time at sea were disconnected from other people's feelings by walls he was forced to build himself, the last year had completely separated him from anyone else. He'd gone weeks without using his voice.

He wouldn't necessarily call them friends. Not yet at least. They are still too new, too unfamiliar to him. This is new territory for him; he has to be careful. Friendship is not a concept he knows and it's a little strange, some paranoid part in him always waiting for something bad to happen. For him to screw up, or them to decide he's too dangerous. They know who he is; Toph detected every single lie he tried to tell them the night he joined them.

("My ship sank and well, I'm pretty sure everyone thinks I'm dead now."

"Yeah, we, uh, kinda cheered when we got the news...")

He was convinced they'd kick him out of their circle and attack and insult him, but neither happened. Instead, Sokka fixed him with a knowing look, as if he knew exactly what Zuko was going through. And perhaps he does, him being a prince as well and running away from his home, abandoning his tribe. Maybe they have more in common than he originally thought.

Toph and Aang didn't really care who exactly he was, the Avatar being open and understanding just like he was taught growing up and the blind girl shrugging and telling him that the only thing that mattered was who he was now. Zuko himself doesn't have an answer to that, he does not know who he is. He doesn't consider himself a prince anymore, but he is still his father's son. Or can he be more than that?

Katara was also filled in their first night together as a group of five. There'd been an expression hushing over her face, one he knows all too well - rage and suspicion, mistrust. But as quick as it had come, it had also vanished, leaving her face blank and emotionless. It's a farce, a mask she constructed to protect herself, something he's always wished to be able to do. It most certainly would have made his life easier.

And thus, he is wary of her. He doesn't dislike her or anything, she hasn't done anything to him. But he's not sure how long that'll last. Her quick flash of emotion at the fire, her initial insistence on Aang teaming up with the tribes, Sokka's caution around her.

The siblings clearly love each other. Sokka's worry for her, his eventual put of trust in her in revealing Aang's identity, and Katara wrapping her arms tight around him and spending three weeks on a ship to look for him, all speak for itself. But love doesn't equal total trust. He knows that well enough from his own sister.

Whilst Sokka put his trust in her by telling her who the Avatar is and wanted to include her and not keep secrets from her, he's still cautious around her. He rarely lets her out of his eyes, always glancing up at her with a look Zuko knows by heart. It's the same look he has always used with Azula, only that it had amused her then. And that there was a real possibility that she'd burn him to a crisp if he wasn't careful enough.

It's unspoken in the group but they all tread lightly around her. They don't know to what extend she can be trusted and if she won't try to drag Aang away from them in the middle of the night. Or try to slit Zuko's throat. Their group dynamic is a little shaky now, but that was to be expected. They don't know each other all that well after all, the whole situation is kinda awkward, and they all need their time to adjust (even though Aang seems to not need any but then again, he can't be considered average).

And time they have. There's nowhere they have to be; they're free to go wherever they want, their only task being teaching Aang and not drawing any attention to themselves (the former being a challenge all on its own). He has all the time in the world to figure out the mystery that is Katara.

—

Flying is a weird sensation. A very weird one. But that doesn't mean that it's bad. While every vein in her body screams at her to get to the ground and that a normal human isn't supposed to be in the air like this, another part of her tells her that this is the best thing she's ever felt. Aside from the sick thrill of bending one's blood of course or winning a match but Katara quickly pushes that thought away, closes her eyes and lets the cold wind blow through her hair.

Maybe this is what freedom feels like.

She's never been free. All her life, there were expectations on her, duties she had to attend to, the needs of others that are more important than her own. She's a princess, yes, the daughter of the former tribal chief, but first of all, she's a woman. And that will always count more than anything else about her in the tribe's eyes.

And of course, there are also the expectations that she's put on herself. After deciding that she wanted more than to just learn how to heal and started practicing alone in secret, she has always been determined to do her best. To show the tribesmen that women could do more than just heal. That she is a force to be reckoned with. And of course that pressure only increased when Hama found out about her efforts and convinced her father and the other nobles to allow her to practice combat bending. After all, there were eyes on her now, waiting for her to give up, to prove to them that women were indeed the weaker sex. So failing simply wasn't an option.

But is she really free now? She might be away from her home, away from prying eyes and the spotlight. Away from all the misogyny. But she still has a task to do: get Sokka and Aang to the capital. Tulek expects her back even if no one can yet tell when. And he'll demand answers. She has to bring back Sokka. She just has to. He's the only family she has left and she can't do this alone, can't live alone. Katara considers herself a very independent woman but even she has her limits.

Tulek is a good leader. He's not very friendly or laid back; he's hell-bent on enforcing his rules. But he does have compassion and a clear mind, he knows what he is talking about. He only wants the best for his tribe. And the best for the tribe is also the best for Katara. Aang is that best, he's the solution to all their problems. Why he and Sokka can't see that is beyond her.

Convincing Tulek to give her a ship and allow her to go look for Sokka was one of the hardest things she's ever had to do. He was strictly against the idea. But after a few days and with the help of Hama and Bato, she got through to him. She promised him answers. Answers on the strange light, on her brother's disappearance. She could give him those answers now. But she'd need Aang and Sokka for that or those answers would be for nothing.

Katara's body might be in the Earth Kingdom now, but her mind is still at the South Pole.

"Aang, why are we sinking?" Sokka's voice interrupts her thoughts and she opens her eyes. He's sitting at the very end of the wooden saddle, holding a scroll he purchased in a village (along with some new green clothes for her) just a day ago to help pass the time with Toph's money in his hand. Said earthbender is sitting across from her, sleeping and buried deep in a blanket to fend off the icy wind, looking so peaceful one could almost not believe how fierce she really is when awake. Zuko beside her is absentmindedly playing with a dagger and looking to be deep in thought.

Aang turns from his place on Appa's head and shoots Sokka a confused look. "Sinking? We aren't-'' He interrupts himself as he takes a look down and frowns. Katara does the same, noticing that they are indeed sinking. She hasn't been with the group for long, but Aang has never been so deep in thought that he lost control over his bison. He grips the reigns tighter and pulls, commanding Appa to gain height. "Sorry about that."

They all resume their activities. They're flying over what looks to be a swamp. She's not sure because she's never seen one before, only reading about them and other terrains in scrolls. This is her first time in the Earth Kingdom and her first time outside any of the poles at all. Technically she did leave them to sail to the north but she never left the ship during those travels. All she knows is ice and snow so she can't help but take all the foreign nature in. She loves the snow, it's her element after all, but this new scenery is simply stunning. The trees under them stand proud and tall, taller than the ones she's seen on her journey so far. The leaves are dense and even for this time of year a dark shade of green. The swamp stretches for miles and miles, when she turns her head and looks around, she can't see anything but green. This territory is huge. She watches in awe as the sunlight catches in the leaves and-

"You're doing it again." This time, it's her who alerts Aang of Appa losing height. He leans to the side again and she hears a confused "Huh?"

Sokka rolls up his scroll. "What's the matter with you today? Do you want me to take over?" He glances at Zuko. "See, I told you waking up at dawn every day is crazy." Said firebender throws his hands up in the air. "It's a part of training, like it or not. And it's not crazy, it's practical."

"Yeah, practical at sending someone to sleep in the middle of the day."

"You guys, cut it out! I'm trying to sleep over here!" An angry Toph pushes down her blanket to glare in the direction of the two bickering boys.

"And that's exactly my point. See, even Toph agrees with me."

"I never said that-"

"You guys!" Katara interrupts the three. "Aang! We're still sinking!" All four of them turn to look at Aang's bald head.

"I don't... do you guys feel that?" He shoots them a worried look over his shoulder.

"Feel what?" Sokka wants to know.

"I'm not sure... some kind of energy? It's like something's pulling at me. I can feel it, deep inside me. I don't know what it is but it's there." They all glance at each other in confusion before answering with a collective "No".

What is he talking about? Those are just trees. Pretty trees, but still just trees.

"Is it an Avatar thing?" Sokka's brow furrows but he only gets a shoulder shrug as an answer.

"Maybe. No idea. But you really don't feel that?"

"What does it feel like?" Katara asks. Maybe they can figure out what he means if he describes it to them.

"Uhh... I can't really explain it. But it's like it's calling me. The swamp. Like it wants me to be there."

"Could be a trap." Zuko's voice sounds like he hasn't had water in ages. Sokka nods in agreement.

"How so?" That's Toph. "Do you expect the Fire Nation to know for some reason that we're passing over wherever we are right now before we even knew we'd come here and then use telepathic powers to lure us down? No offense to Sparky here but you're giving them too much credit. They're not that smart."

"So it's an Avatar thing then?" Sokka muses. "If no one else can feel it and this is not a trap."

Toph makes a hand gesture. "How should I know?"

"Maybe I should answer," Aang cuts in. "Maybe we should land and find out what it is."

"Uhh, no." Sokka's voice is firm. "We're not gonna randomly land somewhere and put us all in danger. There could be monsters down there for all we know!"

Katara shoots her brother a look and rolls her eyes. He's always had a lively imagination. "Oh come on, what's so bad about it? It's not like we have anywhere to be." She cocks an eyebrow at him. It's true, they don't have a final destination and can land wherever they like as long as they can bend there in private. And that swamp looks to be very private and deserted.

And maybe she's just curious and wants to explore what it feels like to be completely surrounded by green.

After a bit of arguing with Sokka coming up with all sorts of reasons on why they shouldn't land, Aang takes matters into his own hands and steers them down. It's not easy to navigate through the dense leaves and they all get a few scratches from branches making contact with their skin, but they manage and finally land in murky water that reaches Appa up to the ankles of his six feet.

Sokka and Toph complain about the liquid surrounding their lower halves but Katara only looks around in amazement. The light, filtered through the leaves, is green and dark, giving the swamp a mysterious vibe. There are trees everywhere and thick vines climb up the trunks and hang low off of branches. They look like they could hold her weight if she were to try to hang onto them. Water surrounds them completely, dingy and green, at some points standing higher and at some lower.

But despite being surrounded by her element for the first time since the attack of the sea serpent, she doesn't feel the rush of power like she always does when around large bodies of water. Instead, she feels... weird. She can't describe the feeling. It's not automatically something bad but it doesn't feel right either. Now she knows how Aang felt earlier.

It's eerily quiet, the only noises coming from the five of them. Katara has read in scrolls that swamps are usually full of life and therefore loud. But when she looks around or concentrates on the sounds around her, there's nothing. No animals, only trees. Aang is right. There is something about this place none of them can explain.

"So? You feel anything now?" The Avatar in question shakes his head in response to Sokka's question. "Not anything new so far. I think we should go explore a bit. Come on, buddy." He nudges Appa and with a groan, the beast starts to move. They all follow him with Toph gripping Zuko's arm for guidance.

They make their way through the water, step by step. Several times Katara's foot gets caught on a root and she has to keep herself from crashing into Zuko's back with flailing arms. Being the last in their little group, she casts her eyes over her shoulder every few minutes. There's something off about this place, it's a feeling that has embodied itself into her skin and won't go away. Of course she doesn't know what swamps are usually like, but the eyes on her back that she can't see but feel all too well tell her that this is not it.

They wander in silence, all holding their breaths, darting curious eyes around, waiting and searching for something they don't know. Aang gives no sign, no reaction, of suddenly being enlightened or whatever, and she doesn't know what she even expected in the first place. The light gets darker the farther they go, tinting it a deep green and the vines get thicker and more frequent in their appearance.

She starts focusing on one spot just to the left on the backs of the others and keeps her eyes on it. The leaves are swinging in a slight breeze; the temperature down here is surprisingly warm. The high humidity makes her hair stick uncomfortably to her sweaty skin. She can feel herself getting drowsy, her thoughts wander into other directions, her eyelids start to feel heavy, and why is it so hard to lift her feet...

She is alone.

Katara turns in every direction, casts her gaze around, searching for the others, but the only thing she sees is trees. Where are the others? They were just in front of her a moment ago, they couldn't have gotten away. They wouldn't leave her behind.

(Or would they?)

She shakes her head, pushing the thought away. No. Sokka is her brother. He wouldn't do that. And the others don't strike her as that heartless, they know that without each other, they're lost in this impossibly big swamp.

(Are you sure about that?)

"Sokka!" she screams and listens desperately for an answer. When none comes, she does it again and stalks forward. They have to be here somewhere. They have to. The water gets deeper with every step she takes but she doesn't care. It's up to her waist now, soaking her clothes and making it difficult to walk. She ignores it and continues on.

(Are you lost, little girl?)

She turns abruptly. She could swear that there had been something behind her just a moment ago but when she looks around, she is still alone.

(So utterly, desperately alone.)

Where is that voice coming from? It's in her thoughts, her mind, her body, her entire being, swirling around her in confusing patterns like the net of a spider. It sounds like her and at the same time, nothing like her.

(Maybe I am you.)

Katara shakes her head. This is just anxiety manifesting itself in strange ways. Nothing to be afraid of. She is a princess, a warrior, a prodigy, a waterbending master. She is not easily scared.

(Maybe you should be.)

This voice, she has to get this voice out of her head. Or rather stop herself from thinking such thoughts. They're no good, they're making everything worse, hindering her in her search, altering her concentration. She is Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. She will not back down. She will find her little group. She will get out of this place. Like a mantra, she repeats the words in her head, over and over again. Every step she takes is impossibly hard and if she wouldn't know that this is caused by the water, she'd think there is something holding her back, some force she wouldn't even be able to grasp with her mere human mind.

(Oh, you don't.)

Not again. She screams her brother's name to get the sound of that voice - her voice - out of her head, again and again until her throat hurts. They have to have heard her, they can't be that far away.

(This place is big. They could be.)

No! She'll find them.

(Why are you fighting? Just give in.)

She stops. Give in to what?

(To what you've always wanted.)

But what is it what she wants?

(I'll show you.)

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees something. Almost automatically, her head turns and then there's a figure standing with her back to her. A woman, clad in blue. Deep, rich, Water Tribe blue.

(Go on. Go to her.)

The figure looks utterly familiar to her. So familiar, that the scent of a fire burning, raw jerky, a peaceful winter morning surfaces in her mind. But no... it couldn't be. It can't. This is impossible.

(Sweet girl, nothing is impossible.)

For a moment she can't move, unsure of what to do. Then Katara sprints forward toward the person, the sound of splashing water echoing loud in her ears. She reaches the woman, puts a hand on her shoulder and turns her around.

The first thing she registers about her is her eyes. They're blue, shining like a saphir, reflecting her own in them. The light-brown skin that is so similar to her own wakes memories of long, graceful fingers combing gently through her hair, cradling her cheeks between them on dark winter nights. Her hair is curly and a deep brown, like the chocolate she once had the pleasure of tasting in the palace.

"Mom?"

The woman smiles in response and takes Katara's face in her hands, long fingers sprawling against her cheeks. "Katara. I've missed you."

She falls into her embrace, holding her mother tight to her body. How is this possible, her mother is dead, this shouldn't be happening-

(And why shouldn't it? What holds you back?)

"I've missed you so much," she mumbles against Kya's chest, burying her face in the warm fur. A hand lightly strokes her damp hair. "I know. I've missed you too."

She continues to hold her and Katara can feel her eyes begin to water. Tears roll down her face, dampening the blue fabric. This is her childhood. This is what she's always wanted. Ever since her mother died, there's been a hole in her chest, like someone had cut a part of her heart out and left her to live with the remains as a punishment. A punishment for something she never did, for something she doesn't know. It had been so unfair, still is and the world shouldn't be so cruel, shouldn't separate a daughter from her mother before it was time.

(But now you're together again. You don't have to part from her ever again.)

And maybe that is true. Here in her mother's embrace, she feels safe. Like everything is right in the world. Like this is the place she is supposed to be in. She has finally found her destination. She didn't know that it had been here the entire time, but now she does.

She forgets the war and all the pain and violence. Forgets the suffering of the world, of her people. She even forgets the others and her brother. What does it matter now? She has everything she wants, everything she needs, everything she could ever ask for. Nothing matters now besides this moment of peace.

(I told you I would make you happy.)

The voice doesn't sound as strange anymore.

(Because I am you. And you are me. We are one.)

And she accepts that because this is the most logical thing she has ever heard and anything else doesn't make sense.

"Stay with me, Katara," Kya purrs, her voice soft and welcoming and warm like a fire. "Stay here, little seal."

…little seal? That is Sokka's nickname. Her's has always been little fish, just like her element. Her mother never mixed that up. Never. Her fingers tighten in the cloth but not to pull her mother closer. Something strange creeps up on her, she can feel it.

Doubt.

(Don't doubt me. I am everything you have.)

Her mother is dead. Has been for years. She has seen it with her own eyes.

What is she doing?

Warily, she dares to look up at the woman holding her. And recoils in horror. There is blood streaming out of her bloodshot eyes down her face in long streaks, painting her unnaturally pale skin red with just a tint of green under it. Her unnaturally wide mouth is warped into a disturbing grimace, her eyes wide open.

This is not her mother.

She takes a step back, her breath coming out uneven and far too fast. "Katara," the woman - no, the creature - says, exposing blood-stained teeth. Katara shakes her head and shrinks back further. The figure before her does the same, following her every move, mimicking her steps. "Katara," she says again and the voice suddenly doesn't sound as welcoming anymore. "Katara. Katara. Katara."

She is chanting her name over and over again, making it sound like a curse. The picture of her mother holding a knife in her hand enters her mind, blood dripping on the white snow and building a stark contrast. "Leave me alone." Her voice comes out shakily and quiet, close to a whisper.

(But I am you. You can't escape me.)

"No!" she screams. For what, she doesn't know. To get the voice out of her head, to get that thing pretending to be her mother away from her, to get the world to finally stop being so cruel. For everything and nothing.

(But I can make it stop. Just listen to me.)

No, no she can't. She starts running. The water slows her down but she forces her body forward. Her head bumps against a low hanging vine, pain erupts in her forehead, but she ignores it and continues on. She has to get away from here, that is the only thing that matters.

(I am the only thing that matters.)

No! She stumbles and bumps against trees, vines, roots, but she doesn't care. That voice in her head is poison and it's showing her things that aren't real, how could she have been so blind. So stupid, so dumb, so naive.

She can feel the words entering her mind, those traitorous words of a liar, sweet nothings, an infection that is slowly killing her, poisoning her. With all her willpower, she pushes them away, forces them into a deep corner of her mind where they can't reach her, can't hurt her.

Katara stumbles again and falls down this time. Her knee scrapes against a root, her hands sink into the mud. She pulls, desperately, again and again but the mud won't let them go, claims them as its own. She angles her head back, lets out a long desperate scream in hopes that someone hears her. Her heart beats impossibly fast in her chest, cold sweat runs down her skin, her throat and chest tighten in horror. She can taste copper in her mouth. The feeling of inescapable doom and dread grips her body and mind in its cold iron fist. She will never be happy again, never be free, never again be surrounded by people she loves.

And then there's the voice again, her voice, and she can't block it out anymore. Her walls have crumbled, leaving behind only ashes and ruins, making her utterly vulnerable and defenseless. She is weak, helpless, lost, alone. Dead.

(You fool.)

And then the water encloses her.

Chapter 6: Five

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Toph hates water. And therefore, she hates the swamp. It makes her blind, really blind, hinders her from feeling the vibrations in the earth as if it has a personal vendetta against her. She can pick up faint sensations all around her, trees deep-rooted in the earth, but the liquid dulls them significantly.

Which is why she doesn't notice it at first.

She is hanging on to Zuko's arm because - and if there is one thing she hates more than water, it's admitting to being helpless - she needs the guidance. And she won't tell him or the others that; those words will never leave her mouth, only over her dead body (and then she won't really be able to speak anymore anyway), but without them, she is lost and as good as dead. And she hates it because she is Toph Beifong, Earth Rumble VI Champion, the legendary Blind Bandit, the best earthbender in the world. She is independent and doesn't need anyone else. Except for the moments that she does.

They all jump as they hear a bloodcurdling scream just to the side. She will deny it later but she does let out a surprised shriek as she digs her nails into Zuko's skin on instinct.

It's a bird. A stupid fucking bird who sounds like a woman dying for some reason. Because this swamp isn't weird and creepy enough.

But the bird also has its purpose.

It's the water's fault, really. She'd have felt it sooner if it weren't for that disgusting element (and she means no offense to Katara by that). But Katara's own element is at fault for her being in danger. Talk about irony.

"Katara?" she asks because there is no vibration of the waterbender behind her like there was just a few minutes ago. No answer, but she can feel Zuko shift and hear the others stop in their tracks.

"Where's Katara?" That's Sokka.

"Guys, what's wrong?" Aang joins them from where he was walking a few feet in front of them.

"Katara's missing!"

"What? How?"

"I don't know! How long is she already gone? Toph?" Sokka sounds more and more panicked with every word he says.

She shakes her head. "I don't know, I just picked it up a few seconds ago."

"We've been walking a few minutes, she can't be gone that far," Zuko joins in.

"But this place is huge!" Sokka again, sounding more and more panicked.

"We'll find her. We go back and look for her." To his credit, Zuko sounds calm and collected. "Toph, can't you locate her with your bending or however this works?"

She hates to do it, but she shakes her head. "Nope. Water, remember?" She points down.

"I'll try to find her with my glider. Appa, stay with them," Aang says, just before she can hear the sound of his glider snapping open and feel a rush of wind.

"Come on, guys! We don't have any time to lose!" Sokka rushes them and she has half a mind to snap at him before she decides against it and keeps her mouth closed. This is his sister after all. And while she's never had a sibling, she can guess how it feels to find out that they're missing. Especially in a horrible area like this. Katara spent weeks on a ship just to look for him, even though she knew the dangers.

They start walking in the direction they came from, Toph still gripping Zuko's arm tightly. Behind them, she can hear Appa's gigantic footsteps and gets occasionally splashed with some water. Judging by the sounds, Sokka is running in front of them, shouting his sister's name. If there is anything in the swamp that maybe shouldn't hear them, it definitely has now.

They continue their search for what feels like an eternity. She knows she's hindering Zuko from combing a wider area in a shorter time but if she lets go, she'll end up like Katara. Toph doesn't know her all that well and that's not particularly her fault. The girl has built walls around herself and closed herself off from the rest of the group, but nonetheless, she hopes she is okay.

"Sokka! Sokka, stop yelling!" says the one who is yelling now. But Sokka's screams do indeed stop for a second.

"What?" comes a slightly annoyed reply.

"Did you hear that?"

"What? Katara?" His voice is literally dripping with hope. But she can feel Zuko shake his head. "No, it didn't sound like her. But-" He holds up a hand, the one she is not claiming as her own. "There it was again. What is that?" A strange noise disrupts the unnatural silence of the swamp, deep and powerful. Something big. She can't pinpoint the direction it's coming from because it sounds like it's coming from everywhere around them.

"I have no idea," Sokka answers, now sounding cautious.

"See, maybe it wasn't that great of an idea to go running around yelling in the absolute weirdest biome I've ever been in," she argues because that sound does not sound natural. Toph only has limited knowledge of spirits but she knows not to mess with them. And one way of messing with them is by going around and making noise in their territory. She has no idea if the swamp houses any spirits but she doesn't really want to find out. Only that she now doesn't have a choice anymore.

There is something weird about this place and she wants to get out of here as soon as possible. Heading west was a bad decision.

"And what was I supposed to do instead? Maybe Katara would hear me whisper her name," comes Sokka's slightly offended reply. "You know, Toph"-

She doesn't hear the rest of his words because suddenly, there is a noise so loud that for a moment, she doesn't hear anything. But then Zuko's arm is ripped from her grasp and she falls headfirst into the water.

Toph swallows involuntarily and the liquid forces its way down her throat, burning her in lungs. She coughs but she is still underwater so she only inhales more of the element. Her air supply is cut off, her hands search for something in the mud to help her get up, anything.

Something grips the fabric of her shirt and hauls her up and finally, she can breathe again. She throws her head back, still coughing, and inhales deeply, allowing precious air to enter her lungs. She has never felt so grateful for something she's always taken for granted.

"Sokka, take her!" Zuko yells and then someone hoists her up, hands digging uncomfortably into her sides. She hates this, hates not being able to fight but there is nothing she can do about it. The sounds of fire fill her ears along with the splashing of water and an unnatural growl that elicits goosebumps on her skin and definitely does not originate from either Zuko, Sokka or Appa.

The person holding her stumbles and they crash to the ground. She is forced underwater again, a strong body pressing her to the ground and with all her strength, she kicks and punches to get him off.

A hand grasps her shirt again and she is picked up by someone. "The hell is going on? Tell me what's going on!" she demands because she doesn't want to rely on her guesses.

"Some... monster... it's attacking us... Zuko is fighting it." The reply comes in pants. So her guesses were right. That noise is a spirit or some sort of monster.

Sokka really shouldn't have yelled.

But before Toph can say anything, Zuko yells and then Sokka does the same and he lets go of her again but this time, the water isn't deep enough and she can actually breathe when she props herself up on her elbows. She can feel the slimy mud on her skin, the still faint vibrations in the earth that now do nothing but confuse her with how fast they're coming. She can hear the sound of a boomerang being thrown, Appa growling, flames being punched and kicked, a monster roaring, the boys yelling, water splashing.

Toph doesn't believe in fear. Never has. But in this moment, she does. Because the situation is so entirely out of her control and she can't fight, can't help, can only hope for the best and hide. For the first time since she's joined this mismatched group, hell, since she found the badgermoles in that cave all those years ago, she feels afraid. Utterly terrified.

Maybe she should have never left home because she is Toph Beifong and she can't die in a swamp surrounded by water! She is the greatest earthbender in the world, she refuses to be bested by some spirit who's had a bad day.

But still - there is nothing she can do.

And then something grips her leg tightly, almost crushing it, and something sharp forces its way through her skin, tearing through flesh and muscle like it's nothing. Pain erupts from her thigh, impossibly hot and burning and stabbing. She can hear her own scream ringing painfully loud in her ears and she does it again and again, throat burning and straining against the abuse.

Someone yells, something hot reaches her skin, almost burning her, and then the grip on her thigh is gone and there is nothing stabbing her anymore. But the pain is still there. She scuttles backward, then draws up her leg as far as she can and feels for the damage. For a moment she is glad that she is blind because she is sure she would have thrown up or passed out otherwise. Regardless, there is still nausea building up inside her.

The sounds of fighting reach her ears once again but she blocks them out and ignores them because her leg feels like it's been cut in half. If she wasn't useless before, she certainly is now. But there are other voices now, not only the panicked ones of Sokka and Zuko. Voices that she doesn't know. Maybe they are here to capture them, maybe their little journey is over now.

They never should have come here.

She should have stayed home, in her trusted estate, in her trusted city, in her trusted underground tunnels, maybe her parents weren't so wrong after all, maybe she should curse the day she met Aang and Sokka, maybe-

But then there is a final scream of the monster, so loud it almost pops her eardrums. Something big crashes into the water, some more yelling soon follows after that. Someone sprints to her, she can hear it from the way the water is splashing, and a hand grips her ankle with a desperate tightness. "Toph? Are you okay?"

"What do you think, Sparky?" She is almost proud of herself for managing to say something that doesn't sound as pathetic or whiny as she feels right now. And for managing to say something at all because every second that passes only brings more agonizing pain. She hopes her tears aren't too noticeable on her dirt-streaked skin.

"Who are you guys?" That's Sokka, yelling from a short distance away, voice wary and suspicious.

"We're here to help you," comes the reply. "You fellas obviously got lost."

—

Before she opens her eyes, she listens to her surroundings. There's the sound of a fire and people talking muffled by something, and someone or something is rummaging right next to her. It's not like the last time Katara woke from being unconscious. This time, she is in control of her body and there is no pain. But she is confused.

Where is she and what happened?

She doesn't dare open her eyes. The last time she did that, she saw the horribly distorted face of her mother. But keeping her eyes closed doesn't help; the image is burned onto the back of her eyelids, like branding on skin. The blood splattered on her face, the mouth forced into an unnaturally wide grin, eyes wide open with no hint of compassion or love in them. But what haunts her the most is her voice. That sweet, warm, kind voice, resembling that of her mother's perfectly. Only that it wasn't actually her.

It had been an illusion, a doppelganger. A lie. But there's a hint of truth in every lie.

Her mother holding a knife in her hand, blood dripping on the white snow and building a stark contrast...

She shudders.

"Oh, you're awake?" a voice that seems to come from directly over her asks. Maybe she is dead and this is some strange form of the afterlife, maybe she's landed in the spirit world (La knows the swamp feels like its own version of it). She wishes she had more time to think about her next step and what to do in what scenario, but she has no time for maybes now. So Katara swiftly opens her eyes while breathing deeply in and prepares herself for the worst.

Green eyes with a hint of brown stare into hers. For a moment it's all she sees, and those eyes look like they're searching for something, testing her. But Katara sits up and forces the eyes to back away. Her own quickly take in her surroundings: standing in front of her is a woman, she herself is sitting on a cot and she seems to be in some sort of small hut with the door being on the opposite wall to her left. Having that in mind, she looks back at the woman, who is still staring at her.

She is wearing brown breast bindings, similar to the ones Katara wears under her tunic and a long green skirt flows around her pale legs and ends in bare feet. Her hair is a lighter shade of brown and around her arms she wears brown wrappings similar to the arm guards Katara sometimes wore back in the South. All in all, the woman is a bit too thinly dressed for her tastes but that is not what's important right now.

"Who are you? Where am I?" That is what's important now.

"I'm Fuo. I've been lookin' after you since ya' got here a few hours or so ago. Ya' looked pale as a ghost when Huu and Slim first brought ya' in."

So someone did find her. But the last thing she remembers is water completely surrounding her.

"But you recovered quite nicely. Ya' almost look as good as new." She reaches out to pat her cheek, but Katara turns her face away. After what has happened, she doesn't feel like getting all touchy with a stranger, especially one sounding so strange.

"So tell me, what got a girlie like you to do running around the swamp? That ain't safe." Oh, Katara noticed. And she's not a girlie. So she ignores the question and instead asks one right back, "Where am I?"

"Still in the swamp. But in the safe part, ya' know."

She doesn't know what that means but ignores it for the time being. "Have you seen... any other people around here lately?" She's not sure if she should ask Fuo that, for all she knows she could be dangerous and it wouldn't be wise for her to reveal the existence of her group, but she can always make up an explanation later. She needs to get back to the others as soon as possible.

"Oh, you mean that lil' group that was so worried 'bout you? They're right outside." Fuo points at the door to her right.

As soon as the words exit Fuo's mouth, Katara swings her legs to the side and stands up. She can't waste any more time. The sooner they get out of here, the better. She almost runs to the door and throws it open, ignoring the pain in her knees from where she scraped up her skin. Bright green light fills her vision, temporarily blinding her as her eyes adjust to the contrast between outside and the dark hut.

She blinks a few times and when she can see again, the first thing she catches sight of is a fire with all of her group sitting in a circle around it. An unfamiliar man has also joined them and they're all clearly busy talking about something and holding wooden bowls in their hands. Sokka spots her first. With a loud exclamation of her name, he puts aside his bowl to leap up and hug her. His grip is tight, almost too tight, as if he's afraid of losing her.

"Okay, Sokka, you're crushing me." He lets loose a little and pulls back, hands still on her shoulders.

"Where in Tui's name were you? You can't just wander off! Do you know how worried I was about you?"

"It ain't her fault, fella," interrupts the voice of the man. She notices that the attention of everyone around the fire is on her now and feels heat rush to her face. Maybe running out of that hut and into the unknown wasn't that good of an idea. But she got Sokka back and that's what counts. "The Azamuku will do that to ya'."

She doesn't understand a word but only a moment later, Sokka leads her to the fire and motions for her to sit down beside him. She settles a little awkwardly and wraps her hands around her legs, drawing them closer. Her eyes dart nervously around; her group seems to be calm but they can never be too sure. After all, they're still in the swamp and there is something deeply wrong with that place.

They seem to be in some sort of village; small huts built out of branches and twigs surround them. Appa isn't too far off, sleeping. People walk around the place, talking and minding their own business, sometimes sneaking glances (or just openly staring) at the newcomers. The style of their clothes is that of Fuo's, only that the men wear large straw hats similar to the one Aang often has to wear in addition to arm and shin wrappings and green loincloths. Back in the poles, this little clothing would be unacceptable and not only because it would mean a sure death of hypothermia. She gets uncomfortable just looking.

Fuo is coming over and for a moment, Katara feels sheepish. That woman apparently looked after her and how did she thank her? By asking questions and then running away.

"So, how's our little rescue doing, Fuo?" one of the men wants to know. Fuo stops next to him. "Oh, she's fine. A lil' confused but I think ya' can help with that. Does your leg still hurt?" She turns to Toph, who is sitting on Katara's right and has her pants rolled up on one leg to expose a green slimy looking paste on her skin.

"A bit. But that stuff is really helping," Toph exclaims with some form of surprise while stretching her leg.

As Fuo nods satisfied and stalks off, Katara scoots closer to the eartbender and opens her waterskin. "Are you hurt? I can heal that for you."

"Spirits, yes, I've been waiting for you to finally wake up from your beauty sleep all day." Without another word, Katara gloves her hands in water and goes to work on what she now sees is a big wound like something took a bite out of Toph's leg. She shudders at the thought of what kind of beast could have done this. Traces of something crawl up her arms and to her head: pain, horror, panic. It's what Toph felt at that moment. Healing isn't without a small sacrifice, she can always sense a bit of pain, taking it from her patient and feeling it herself as if transferring it.

"So, where was I? Ah, right. Ya' see, this whole swamp is actually one tree spread over miles. Branches spread and sink and take root and then spread some more. One big living organism. Just like the entire world." The man that spoke with Fuo is now explaining something.

"But how does this work?" Aang's curious voice wants to know.

"I don't know. But it's true. And it works. That's what matters."

"But this makes no sense." Zuko.

"Oh, it does. Just like the Avatar cycle makes sense. Or how the world makes sense. It's all connected. Do ya' understand everything that ya' think you should understand? No, I don't think ya' do. But you don' need to, as long as it works."

Katara finds several flaws in that logic but doesn't comment on it. Instead, she finishes up Toph's leg, who thanks her and corks up her waterskin. A few seconds after she sits upright again, she receives a punch in the arm and winces. "And what exactly was that for? I just healed you!"

"That's how I show affection. You're welcome," is the simple answer, followed by a shrug. Well, that's confirmation enough that she didn't mess up.

"And where exactly is this tree? Maybe I should find it so I can find out why the swamp called me here," Aang asks.

"It's not too far from here. It's the only place that's still safe to be around. Nobody's messin' with the spirits but the Banyan-grove tree fends them all off. I found my enlightenment there."

"And how did you do that?"

"I meditated."

But Katara isn't interested in reaching enlightenment, she is interested in answers. "Wait," she interrupts, "you mentioned spirits and that this place is the only safe one here. What do you mean by that?"

"What I said. There are spirits roamin' the swamp, some good ones, some bad ones. Mostly bad ones. Ya' should never wander off alone here, ya' might not come back otherwise."

"So do you have any idea what happened to me?"

He nods. "Oh, aye. You got attacked by an Azamuku. Nasty things, I'll tell ya'. They lull their victims to a place isolated from other people and then trick them into trusting them. They get into your head, make ya' crazy. They show you people you've lost, folks you think are gone. They tell ya' that time is an illusion, that death is an illusion. And then they consume their victims. That's how they live." He shakes his head, pointing with a bowl in his hand at her. "Ya' can be glad we found ya' when we did. Otherwise, I doubt you would've made it."

Silence falls over them while everyone's gaze is trained on Katara. She can feel their curiosity, wanting to know who exactly she saw. Especially Sokka's. But she doesn't want to talk about this right now, not in front of the whole group and a stranger, even if he did save her from certain death. So she changes the topic. "And why did that thing only get me and not the others?"

He shrugs. "Guess you were just the easiest to isolate from the others. They're not good with groups of people, that's why we could fight it off." It does make sense, she had been walking at the end of the group. That's why the others didn't notice her wandering off, otherwise they would have come after her sooner. She pushes the memory of the voice telling her that they wouldn't have aside. "I wouldn't take it personally."

Oh, she doesn't.

"Hey, girlie, you hungry? You must be." He leans back, grabs a bowl laying next to a steaming kettle and pours something into it. "This should still be warm," he says, holding out the bowl to her with a hopeful look in his hazel eyes. She peeks inside before taking it, not wanting to seem rude. It looks slimy and frankly, disgusting, the brown-greenish color being as odd as the texture but she holds her breath as she holds it to her lips and drinks, bracing herself.

It's actually quite good.

Katara sets it down after a few sips, finding the man staring at her expectantly. "It's... it's good. Better than I expected to be honest."

His face instantly lights up. "I see you and your brother have taste! It's a mix of plants and bugs, all mashed together. It's quite healthy and nutritious."

She did not need to know that bug part. A look around the fire confirms his implication; Aang, Toph and Zuko all look at her as if she were crazy.

"So what happened to you guys?" she wants to know and takes a few more sips. Sokka shrugs. "Oh, nothing special. Just got attacked by this giant monster."

—

The roots are thick and sturdy; Aang can walk on them without fear of falling off. Of course he could also just fly but somehow that wouldn't seem right. So he tracks the path up to the tree, the Banyan-grove tree, using his staff as a walking stick, however exhausting it is. As he gazes up, he has to crane his neck to see the top of the tree and even then he can only see a part of it. It's the biggest tree he's ever seen and that's saying something.

The moon shines bright in the sky when he finally reaches the trunk. It's wide and dark and when Aang places his hand on the wood, he can feel energy pulsing through it, like a steady heartbeat. The heartbeat of the swamp.

He closes his eyes and sits down, crossing his legs and bringing his fists together in his lap. Remembering the meditation the monks taught him, he breathes deep in and out and tries to focus.

Huu said that he found enlightenment under this tree. With all the raw energy pulsing around him, in the tree, in the roots, in the air, within him, he's sure he will too. Or maybe not enlightenment but at least some sort of clarity.

The swamp people had accepted him without a second doubt, although he's not sure on what assumption that acceptance is based on. They saw him flying around with his glider looking for Katara and then he couldn't deny being an airbender. He didn't, however, mention that he is not only that nor that he is the last of his kind. If they knew the truth, he doesn't think they would rat him and his friends out. They strike him as a very friendly and welcoming tribe. But Sokka's words ring in his ears and he has to be more cautious now.

(And maybe they'd ask him questions he's not prepared to answer yet.)

The swamp people aren't that different from the Air Nomads. Removed from the world and its people, living in isolation. Although the nomads had been living up to their name and flew around the world, helping wherever they could and exploring various landscapes, while the swamp people seem to stick to their swamp. It is a place of peace, untouched by the war. Maybe it is the last one left.

He knows he should do better. He should learn the elements faster and help people. The world should know that he is back and that the Avatar hasn't forgotten it. The assumption that the very being who is the bridge between the two worlds, the bringer and keeper of peace and balance, has abandoned the spirits, the people, the world, is tearing a hole in his chest. It hurts. It hurts so very bad and sometimes all he wants to do is scream.

But he doesn't. Instead, he does what the others tell him to do and clings to glimpses of hope, imagining a better time.

Aang focuses on his surroundings. He can hear himself breathe, hear crickets somewhere around him and some other animals he can't identify. Huu said that this part was safe and he believes him. He's noticed the closer they are to the Banyan-grove tree, the louder the swamp gets. No wonder, this place seems to be pulsing with life.

He doesn't know how long he sits there. The minutes pass and blur together in a hazy swirl. His breaths are deep and even; Zuko would be proud of him. Ever since he woke up he has neglected meditating although he's done it more often since Zuko joined. But he has failed to archive the peace and clarity he normally always got from it.

He misses having a clear head with no confusing thoughts.

He can feel himself getting tired. But not tired as in sleeping; he's wide awake. But he can feel something, and he's sure that that something has to do with the tree he's sitting under. He focuses on it, visualizing the chi paths in his body, marked by arrows on his skin. He can see them now, white pure energy running through his body, through every fiber of his being.

The veil seems to get thinner and thinner, the veil he recognizes to be between the world of the humans and that of the spirits. He gets calmer and calmer, losing awareness of his surroundings. There are no crickets chirping anymore, no breeze rustling through leaves. Only the clear pulse of the energy around and within him.

It begins slowly.

In hindsight, she should have noticed it sooner, done something sooner. It's so obvious now, all the clues that she's missed. But it is too late and now they will all pay for it.

She can't help but doubt the elders. She knows that it is wrong to doubt those who are more experienced and wiser, but if these are her last moments, she doesn't see why she should restrict herself like she's done her entire life.

Perhaps, if they would have listened, these wouldn't be her last moments. Perhaps they would have had a chance. To talk things over, to evacuate, to fight, she doesn't know. But a chance.

It started months ago. First, it came in the form of pride. The Fire Nation is a proud country, always has been. Full of strength and determination and honor and raw power. A climate just like its inner core, storms with a temper like the people brave enough to inhabit volcanoes and live among dragons, spitting fire just like them.

Pride is not something unfamiliar to her. The Air Nomads always put themselves high up on a pedestal - figuratively and literally - saying that pride is the cause of evil in human nature. That it brought out the worst in people, consuming them with greed and hunger for power. All for pride, for this false sense of honor. But she sees it for what it really is: the Air Nomads are proud, too.

They pride themselves on being removed from all worldly concerns and on being spiritually enlightened, on being in balance with oneself and nature. On knowing human nature and its predictability.

But this is what will get them all killed now.

After pride came discrimination. Slowly, not obvious at first and only in hindsight. Farmers started to drive away Air Nomads from their land. Citizens in the towns started to avoid them, whispering to each other behind held up hands. Plays started making fun of their culture, poking holes in their philosophy with Fire Nation logic.

After all, the Fire Nation is the country that led them into this era of peace and prosperity. And the greatest country in the world could do no wrong. Other cultures simply had to be inferior; they hadn't been the ones with such great success in everything.

The process had been gradual, but steady and inevitable, and the propaganda, which she only now recognizes to be exactly that, became more and more offensive as the sun rose and sank again and again.

But still, the elders didn't do anything. They chalked it up to misplaced pride, as they do with everything, something that isn't pleasant but not their concern. The Air Nomads didn't need the other nations to recognize that their philosophy was the only one right, it would all become obvious the second one passed from the mortal realm into the spirit world. They just had to wait.

But time isn't on their side.

Then the passing of the comet came nearer and nearer. Concerns arose around the temple. With the firebenders becoming hostile, wouldn't a comet enhancing their powers be dangerous? The Air Nomads shouldn't sit around and wait, they should take action.

That was the opinion of one part of the temple's inhabitants.

The other part just shook their heads in disappointment. They shouldn't be so paranoid. They were taught better. The Fire Nation has always been unstable and the comet passed every hundred years and nothing ever happened. The Air Nomads had lived through worse times, this was nothing. Whatever happened, they could deal with it.

And even if - what was the plan anyway? Fight? Resort to violence and aggression? No. They were Air Nomads. They were peaceful. Violence wasn't the answer and never had been. An Air Nomad never broke his oath.

So they had done nothing and waited like prey caught in a trap.

The comet came and with it its subjects. And now she is standing under a blood red sky, watching as men are burning down her home, killing the people she loves, destroying her entire culture with their hatred and brutality.

Never before has she seen such violence. Corpses are lying around, of friend and foe all the same, blood paints the walls a deep scarlet. Screams are all around her, of pain, of horror, of hate, of fear, filling the halls, clawing their way through the cracks and into her brain, burning with the same intensity as their enemy's flames.

But they are not waiting anymore. They are fighting.

People she never thought capable of violence are embracing it now. Slamming firebenders against walls and off cliffs, crushing their bones and skulls under their thick armor. Throwing their own fire back at them with big gusts of wind, burning and charring their flesh beyond the recognizable. Sucking the air out of their lungs.

It shatters something inside her.

It's not the horror of seeing her home destroyed or her friends slaughtered. It's not the disgust at seeing all this hate. It's not the disbelief of seeing people she lived with killing others.

It's the bone-shattering realization that the Air Nomads were killed by the one thing they always prided themselves on not having: Pride.

What a sick irony it is.

She feels something swell up inside her. A feeling she has always had but never allowed herself to truly embrace: hate.

Hate at the firebenders killing her people. Not surprising. Hate at the elders for doing nothing and allowing their own people to get slaughtered. More surprising. She wishes that she were wrong. That she was paranoid and maybe just a bit too doubtful in her own philosophy. She would have gladly accepted a scolding from the council. But no. She was right.

She had never dreaded being right before.

But today is a day that brings many new things, bad or good. So she does something she has never done before: she fights.

She throws herself into the fight, reflecting flames, bringing down countless walls and columns, not sparing a second glance at what was once simple elegance and beauty, her home, the core of her beliefs. She screams, the sound loud, enhanced by a gust of wind coming out of her mouth, and lets herself be as aggressive as she's always known she was deep down.

But there are too many. For every firebender she takes down, three more pop up, restless and ready to kill. Airbenders continue to die, their lifeless bodies falling to the ground and getting burned, their souls cursed to wander for eternity.

She doesn't let the sight of everyone she once knew dead hinder her and continues on, pushing her body beyond its limits, not caring how much it hurts. She can't give up. She can't. Because if she does that means that everything is lost and that she went down without a fight.

But in the back of her mind, she knows it's inevitable. There are dozens of firebenders all around her with the power of a thousand suns in their command and the glint of a madman in their predatory eyes, yellow like a cat-shark, and there are only a handful of airbenders left.

She doesn't know what this new world will look like. A world without all four elements is a world out of balance but she doesn't dread it because she won't be there to experience it. The acceptance of that comes unexpectedly, but it brings a sort of calm over her, one she never would have thought herself capable of feeling in the midst of battle.

So when she turns around and faces certain death in the form of impossibly hot flames and burning hatred, she is not afraid.

And with that, the last airbender opens his eyes with a gasp.

(Time is an illusion, and so is death.)

—

The moon shines down on her and lends her its power as she shifts and turns and manipulates the water around her to her will. It feels different and more difficult, like it has a mind of its own; the water here is different from the familiar ocean one, heavier and thicker. But she tries to ignore that and lets herself feel the strength that flows through her veins, pushes her thoughts, as woven and complicated as the fine webs of a spider net away from her mind; push and pull.

Katara takes a new stance and lifts her arms; the water rises with her, steady and even, before swinging them to the side in a graceful arc. Her motions are fluid and smooth with a controlled elegance that she's trained years for to achieve. Not at all like the more rigid and direct moves the swamp benders use. She watched them today in the light of the sinking sun but couldn't find any of the usual grace that comes with waterbending in their motions.

In the back of her mind, she knows that Tulek would disapprove of this. These are her people, waterbenders just like her. But at the same time, they are so different that it slips her mind how they can belong to the same nation.

Or do they?

They behave more like Earth Kingdom commoners, from what she's seen so far, with their green eyes and light skin, not as light as that of a Fire Nation citizen but several shades lighter than her own. They have their own customs and rules and philosophy. This place is so untouched by the war, she's not even sure how much they know. The poles are isolated too, but that's for their own protection and at least they don't sit around and do nothing. Katara doesn't understand how a whole group of people, a whole culture of its own, can just turn their back to the world and not care what happens to it.

In the morning, she'll try to talk some sense into them.

"You're not sleeping."

Years of practice show themselves as she doesn't let the voice suddenly appearing behind her startle her and sinks her arms slowly, carefully guarding the water back to the ground before she turns, even though she recognizes his voice from its signature rasp. "I can't. It's a full moon."

And that's not even a lie, only part of the truth. But he doesn't need to know that every time she closes her eyes, the grimace of that horrible spirit imitating her mother grins at her with blood-stained teeth.

Zuko crooks an eyebrow, his only one, she notices. "But that's not the full reason, is it?" His eyes seem to reflect the sun in them and the moonlight makes his hard features seem softer. For some reason, this irritates her.

"What do you care?" Katara almost spits, voice full of deadly venom. The full moon gives her excess energy, bending is almost a necessity for her on those nights. Fighting too, whether with words or with elements.

His carefully guarded features don't give away any emotion. "I saw the way you looked at these people," he says, not taking the bait. "You think they're cowards for not partaking in the war." He seems to look almost straight into her soul at that and she takes a step back in an effort to break the connection, bringing up the familiar walls to her mind.

He's right, of course he is right, but she won't admit that. Never.

So Katara lashes out. "What, and you don't think the same, Fire Prince?" She spits his title out like it's an insult and really, it is. "If you'd have it your way, they'd kill themselves. They're just waterbenders, inferior to the oh-so-mighty Fire Nation. That would save the effort to come here and do it yourselves but then again, that would also rob you of the satisfaction of killing people. Burning people and destroying their lives and hearing their screams - that gives you a sick thrill, doesn't it?"

She knows she just made this way more personal than she originally intended to, but she doesn't care. Her fingers are itching for a fight, for a way to let all this simmering energy out of her before it burns its way through her skin. The water behind her ripples itself.

"I could say the same about you," Zuko replies angrily. Oh, so that did catch his attention. "Don't the Water Tribes plan to - what did they call it? - 'rid the world of the pest that is firebenders and their lackeys'? So genocide is okay if it's one specific people that gets slaughtered?"

He doesn't understand, he will never understand because he is born of Fire, born of that hateful element, son of the Fire Lord and the man that made her life and that of so many others hell. He was born on one side of the war and she on the other. He couldn't possibly understand the pain of her people, the pain that he caused.

"I'd say it's okay if the people in question are responsible for the deaths of so many others." Katara doesn't really mean that, or at least not in the way it came off as. Genocide is never right, never okay, but they are in a war and they have to do what is necessary to survive. It's not a question of right or wrong, it's a question of survival. And if that's what it takes to save her culture, then so be it.

Huffing, he lets out a humorless laugh, breaks eye contact and looks briefly to the side. "You're insane." Zuko shakes his head. "That makes you no better than the Fire Nation." He's wrong, so, so wrong, because everything is better than a nation of bloodthirsty monsters.

"So you admit that your nation is evil?"

"I'm teaching the Avatar firebending to take down my father. Why else do you think I'm here and not back home preparing to take over one day?" Before she can answer that with a snarky remark, he continues. "I wouldn't if I didn't think the Fire Nation is wrong in their ways. We're not superior to anyone. All nations are equal and that includes the citizens of the Fire Nation. They haven't done anything wrong."

"Then they shouldn't kill and oppress others!"

"The Fire Nation isn't evil, Katara. It's misguided. And I know that doesn't make up for the pain of your people, but genocide is never the answer." Zuko is calmer now, more composed, but the hard look in his eyes is still there. "I came out here to see if you're alright after that spirit attack, but if you don't want my help, then I won't give it to you."

"I don't need it," she says to let him know that she does not want his pity or any other part of him because he is the enemy and the others are fools not to see that.

"Fine. But I'm not gonna fight with you. Goodnight." With one last look at her, he turns and walks away, leaving Katara alone in the darkness of the swamp.

—

Sokka watches his sister talk to various swamp people. He's not close enough to hear what they're talking about but he can guess. So when one man he thinks is called Slim excuses himself, Sokka seizes the opportunity and is by her side in a matter of seconds. "Katara, what are you doing?" She looks at him as if she thinks he's stupid, a look he's very familiar with.

"I'm trying to make them see reason. Sokka, these are our people. They should join forces with us and fight."

His eyebrows shoot up. "And let me guess - they declined?"

She nods, indignation clear on her face. "They're saying that this is not their fight, that they shouldn't bring themselves into something they have no part of. I know they're not big but every warrior counts. And I have no idea how they can think that! It's only a matter of time until the Fire Nation will discover this place and burn it to the ground."

"Katara, what exactly did you tell them? About the Water Tribes, I mean."

"Our plans of course."

Sokka sighs at that. "Look, this place is... different. They're not like us. They don't think that killing is something anyone should do, ever. And that's not a bad thing. They're their own culture, you can't just expect them to give up their traditions and risk their lives for people they've never met."

Her brow furrows. "They're not Fire Nation and they're waterbenders. They have a responsibility to their kind, no matter how secluded they are. And besides, they wouldn't fight just for others - they'd fight for themselves too. The Fire Lord will kill them if he finds them, Sokka, you know that as well as I do," she adds with a stern voice.

"But you can't force them. Force never works."

"It does sometimes."

"You're not under Tulek anymore. You don't have to do everything he says."

"I'm not doing what Tulek wants, I'm doing what I think is best for my tribe. And that is exactly what he is doing as well."

He looks at her now, really looks at her, like he hasn't done in years. He sees the lines etched into her skin, the hard features, the furrowed brow. The anxiety in her blue eyes, sharp like shards, shielded by stubbornness. She matured so much in these past few years and he has to accept that Katara isn't the little girl anymore that clings to her older brother and tells him her fears. She is a warrior now, an adult, shaped by war and loss and violence and a culture out for revenge. There is so much pain hidden deep within her, a pain that he shares, but he hasn't buried it so deep that it's a part of him now, unlike her.

And for a moment he wonders if that is his fault. When did the woman before him become so hateful and aggressive? So full of loathing and mistrust? When did she begin shielding herself from everyone around her?

But Sokka knows the answer to that. He shouldn't have left her alone. Not after their father's death, not in his travels, not after he found Aang. He betrayed her and for that she wants him to hurt just the way she had, even though she can't express it.

"What did you see when you got separated from the group yesterday?" He has a feeling and he's dreading to know the answer, the horrible truth.

She's taken aback, clearly not having expected this sudden change of topic, but she composes herself quickly and looks at him with sharp eyes. "Who do you think?" Her voice is quiet now but as sharp and deadly as the blade of a sword.

Of course. She had been there to actually witness it, unlike him.

He closes his eyes for a second and lets out a held breath. "I'm sorry. I know I hurt you. I shouldn't have left you alone. You're my sister, Katara. I should protect you and I always will. And I also know that Mom wouldn't want this."

Hurt hushes over Katara's face for a second, followed by grief only felt by a daughter losing her mother. "Mom would want our people to live." And there is so much pain in her eyes and he knows his own reflect hers. "Why can't you see that, Sokka? These are your people! Your tribe! Mom would want us to fight for them. Dad, too."

"But not like this. Killing more people is never the answer. That makes us monsters too." He feels her sense of betrayal and knows what she thinks about him. She thinks that he has turned his back on his own tribe and is running away from his responsibilities as future chief. It hurts because he hasn't, he still cares about them, he always will. And that is the reason he is here now, to save them, to end this war without another genocide.

He can almost see how Katara raises the walls again, how she closes herself off from him and hides behind the stern expression of a warrior. "Maybe," she says and there is such coldness in her voice, he wonders how her breath isn't coming out in tiny ice crystals. "But then we'd at least live to see another day."

And with that, she walks away.

Notes:

Me, writing the beginning of this chapter: Hm, how could I convey how terrifying this situation is the best? Yes, right, write it from the POV of the blind girl who just got her only way of seeing completely cut off.

Yes, I do feel sorry for her. It worked out in the end tho.

And yes, I did get lazy naming the monster cuz "Azamuku - to deceive" in Japanese but if there's anyone here who can speak Japanese and correct Google Translate's work if it's wrong then please do so as I do not speak Japanese. But it felt unrealistic to leave the monster nameless; it's obviously known to the swamp people and they would have found a name for it some time.

Regarding Aang's vision - the Air Nomads are great and all but they were portrayed as nearly perfect in the show and I just... do not buy that. So I wrote some head canons into this story, there's some stuff coming later that gets pretty dark, but I just wanted to explore that 'what if'. It also helps with Aang's characterization in this story as I will be taking quite the different approach regarding the whole Ozai thing.

Zuko trying to be friendly and Katara immediately going into attack mode will never cease to be funny to me, I'm not sorry. Sokka trying to talk to his sister and Katara immediately becoming hostile does make me feel sorry tho. Yes, she's... a bit extreme rn. But growing up in a culture that tells you your whole life that this specific nation is the absolute enemy and that the means justify the ends x1000 will do that to ya (and yes, that's also a very different approach to the Water Tribes but hey, what if). Don't worry, we'll get there.

Chapter 7: Six

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The fire cackles and gives the small group gathered around it warmth, illuminating their bodies and highlighting the sharp lines on their faces as they make light conversation. Or at least Sokka and Toph do, as Zuko is keeping to himself, Katara is pointedly ignoring the rest of them and Aang is in another realm with his thoughts.

A few days have passed since they've left the swamp and moved on as to not stay in one place for too long (and because Zuko and Toph couldn't stand to eat another stew containing bugs and Aang the same plant over and over again). A few days in which they have done nothing but train, hunt for meat and gather nuts, and glare at each other, although the last part was mostly Katara.

It rubs Aang the wrong way.

He can't forget what he saw that day he went to meditate under the banyan-grove tree. He has actually had a vision of his people dying. Like he was there that day. Like he was her, the airbender whose name he doesn't know but who has shown him more than he has ever hoped of seeing.

And technically, he had been supposed to be there.

But no, he ran away. And unknowingly saved his own life in the process. But what is that worth when he left hundreds of others to die? His own people? His culture?

He feels like he's back on that island near the South Pole with Sokka again. Like he's just woken up from the iceberg with no idea what the world became in his absence, what really happened.

Sokka said that it was for the best. That he couldn't have defeated an entire army of firebenders on their most powerful day. That he'd be dead now had he tried. And a rational part of Aang knows that this is true, that he couldn't stand a chance against so many benders, especially with no knowledge in bending the other elements. But still. He is the Avatar. He is supposed to protect people, not leave them to die. He's not supposed to run away.

And yet, this is what he does best.

Ever since Sokka told him the truth about the Air Nomads on that island, he has tried to avoid thinking about it too much. The Air Nomads are gone, no matter how much he doesn't want to accept that. He's the last of his kind. He's tried to distract himself, with bending, with learning about this new world, with traveling the Earth Kingdom, with getting to know this group of people he's found himself with.

But then the swamp confronted him with it, gave him a first-row seat in watching his kind die. In a way, it feels like the spirits are playing a cruel joke on him. He came to the swamp to find answers, not to get traumatized all over again. Now his concentration is suffering; he can't sleep, can't eat, and his bending is getting worse, almost erasing all the progress he's worked so hard for in these past few weeks, frustrating the others. The only one who is kind of successful in teaching him something is Katara. Waterbending seems to come easy to him; he supposes it's because of the similarity to airbending. Healing is another matter though, and he absentmindedly rubs his thumb over the skin of his hand where she tried to get him to heal a small burn scar.

And maybe the spirits really are playing a joke on him.

Just before going to the banyan-grove tree, Huu told him that the swamp hasn't always been this dangerous and full of malevolent spirits. That once there had been peace there, a spiritual center. But ever since the genocide of the airbenders, the world went out of balance and the spirits turned evil. Aang knows that spirits aren't inherently evil, they simply can't be because they operate under different laws than humankind does. At least that is what Monk Gyatso taught him. And the Avatar's task was to mediate between spirits and humans as the bridge between the two worlds. But he's a failure at that too.

Maybe this is his punishment for it. He certainly deserves it, even if he likes to not think about it too hard.

Airbending has always come easy to him and ever since learning of his real identity, he assumed that that would be the same for the other elements. After all, how hard could it be to learn water, fire and earth if he already mastered airbending at such a young age?

But whenever he bends other elements, he feels like there is something wrong with it, like he's not supposed to shape boulders and form waves. Which is stupid of course, he's supposed to master all four elements and is the only one with the ability to do so. He didn't cheat his way into this, he didn't trick the spirits to give him control over more than one element, it's something he has been born with and is therefore his right. But still, it feels wrong.

Maybe it's his attachment to the Air Nomads and his identity as an airbender. The monks told him that the Avatar is not supposed to have any worldly possessions or feel bound to one specific nation. He is all four nations at once, unites all belief systems in him. And yet, they also said that the Air Nomads live how people are supposed to live, to root out all that causes evil and greed in humans, and that the Avatar should act according to this philosophy to be truly free of worldly tethers.

But how could he unite all four philosophies in him and not belong to only one nation when he is supposed to act according to Air Nomad's beliefs?

Aang is confused.

He is an Air Nomad first before he is the Avatar, has been for sixteen years. He has a responsibility to his people, has to keep their culture alive. But then again, that belief is wrong because his duty to save the world is more important. Yet, he doesn't want to be the Avatar, he wants to be an Air Nomad. He can't be both because that contradicts the purpose of the Avatar.

He's never asked for this. He doesn't want this responsibility, this huge burden. All he wants to do is to run away and forget. But he can't do that, the world doesn't deserve that. Sokka, Toph, Zuko and even Katara don't deserve that, the only people who know he is back, who believe in him. Sokka and Toph look at him in this hopeful way, like they truly think he could change something in this cruel world. Zuko has this glint in his eyes and this sternness in his training, this desperation for him to take down his father. And even Katara clings onto this glimmer of hope like someone who is simply unable to let go of the tiniest spark after a lifetime of darkness, in her own twisted way.

No, he can't let them down. He has to accept who he is. He can't run away anymore, however hard it might be. He has to accept the consequences of what he has done.

And that starts with one thing.

"I want to go to the Southern Air Temple."

The conversation abruptly stills and everyone looks up at him. For a moment, it's quiet and everyone just stares at him. "Sokka is the first to break that silence. "Aang, I thought we talked about this."

"Yes, but I changed my mind. I need to see it." His voice is firm and the look in his gray eyes hard. This is not up for discussion. He has to go there and if he has to do it alone, so be it.

"This really isn't a good idea. The Southern Air Temple is close to the South Pole and well..." Sokka glances at Katara out of the corner of his eye, who only snorts in response. "It's really not safe. Especially not with the light-"

"We have Appa," Aang cuts him off. "If we fly high enough, no one of the Southern Tribe will see us and most of the temple is only reachable by air anyway." There really is no reason not to travel there. Except one of course, but he doesn't dare to voice that out loud. But Toph does.

"And you really think this is such a good idea? No offense, but I'm pretty sure that seeing the place where your people died isn't such a great motivator."

"This isn't about... motivation but about closure! You guys don't understand it but I need to go there." But he wants them to, needs them to, desperately. If these are the only people he has left in this world, he can't lose them too. But just as much as he wants them to understand, he wants the closure of seeing his former home. He is not sure what that will exactly accomplish but it's like the swamp all over again - something calling him.

"I'm with Aang." Zuko comes to his rescue. "If he says he needs it, he needs it. I don't see why we shouldn't. It's his home after all." Of course someone who was exiled from his own country would understand. Aang shoots him a grateful look. For all his sternness and overall grumpiness, he sure does care.

Katara shrugs. "I mean if he really wants to..." She trails off and then pointedly looks down at the bowl in her lap.

But Sokka still doesn't seem convinced. "Look, Aang, I'm really not sure if that's such a good idea-"

"I don't care!" And there it is again. Anger. One emotion he's felt all too often since he emerged from the ice and one he really doesn't like. But he can't help it. "You say we can't go back to the South Pole so we don't. You say we have to go to the Earth Kingdom so we do. You say I have to keep my identity a secret and the world thinking I have abandoned it so I do. Ever since I woke up, I've been doing what others wanted me to do. But this is something that I have to do for me and for me alone. I'll go to the temple with or without you."

Silence. Then: "I only ever wanted to protect you. I never told you to do things without a good reason." There is a hurt look in Sokka's eyes and Aang regrets his outburst immediately. Not the meaning behind the words but how he said them. Fighting isn't going to accomplish anything, it will only make things harder.

He closes his eyes for a second and sighs. "I know. And I'm sorry. I know you only want the best for me and without you, I wouldn't be sitting here." Sokka is the reason there even is a chance for the world after all. "But I need you to understand. The Southern Temple... I can't explain it but this is just something that I have to do. Please just try to see things from my perspective."

Now it's the Sokka's time to sigh. "Okay," he says after a few silent seconds. "Fine. Then we'll go to the Southern Air Temple."

—

That night, Aang still finds himself unable to sleep. They've agreed to take off in the direction of the temple early the next morning to make it there in the late afternoon. And as much as he's glad to finally see his home again, he is also nervous, perhaps even more.

The last thing he remembers from there are days spent under the bright sun in the courtyard, throwing his head back to feel the strong winds on his skin. Throwing himself off of ledges and cliffs to fly around on his glider or Appa, to propel himself high in the air and through clouds, emerging with wet clothes from their moisture. Talking with other students, laughing and playing games with them, scooting around on air scooters. Eating Passaang's fruit pies. Meditating with Monk Gyatso.

And now when he goes back there, nothing will be the same. The rooms that were once so lived in will be abandoned, the courtyard full of people empty and the temple full of ghosts. What will it look like? Will the temple be in ruins with broken doors and crumbled walls? Will sky bison or lemurs still fly around? Will there be... skeletons of the people he once called kin?

But most importantly - how will he react? Shame? Anger? Guilt? Grief? All these emotions at once? And then what? He will simply move on, after seeing his home destroyed and abandoned, and continue with his training like nothing happened?

Yes, he will, because he doesn't have another choice. Going to the temple is his decision and he has to stand by it. No matter how hard it is, he will take it in and accept reality.

And it's not like Aang only has good memories of the Southern Temple. There were times when he had been excluded from playing games with the others, even when they had used his own invention. They said having him on a team wouldn't be fair. And he supposes it wouldn't have been and the Avatar is all about fairness so he'd complied but it had still hurt. And if the other kids didn't exclude him from games, the elders did. He had no time for games, they said. He had responsibilities and needed to learn all about being the bridge between two worlds.

Now that he is staring up at a sky full of stars, a sky that most likely looks different now than it did a hundred years ago, he visibly remembers sitting alone in his chamber and longingly looking out of the window, wishing he could be like the others. Normal. He'd just wanted to have fun.

And then there were the rumors of an upcoming war. Of propaganda against the Air Nomads. But the elders had dismissed them so Aang didn't think much of it. Oh, how wrong that was. So wrong.

He replays the memory the Banyan-grove tree had shown him, recalls the images he saw, no matter how horrifying, and the thoughts he gained insight on.

It's the bone-shattering realization that the Air Nomads were killed by the one thing they always prided themselves on not having: Pride.

But the Air Nomad's didn't have pride. He knows that, he is - was one of them. So how could that memory be right? But the tree wouldn't lie to him, he can feel that on a primal level. The Banyan-grove tree doesn't lie.

But the elders didn't either. Or did they? Greed and pride are the downfall of humanity. They are the reason most nations are corrupted. Or so the monks taught him and the other kids his age. So why would they say that only to then turn around and embrace said hated emotions? That doesn't make any sense, none of it. But then again, many things don't make sense lately.

He goes through memories that aren't his own, tries to sort them out. Maybe it's wrong that he has them; they belong to a nun he doesn't know after all but the tree gave them to him and it's not like he exactly asked for them.

She had felt betrayed by her elders, left alone to die and abandoned. And she had felt a form of rage that Aang had never personally felt and that he hopes he never will. He came close when he found out about his people's fate but this feeling, this thing she had felt... that was just on another level.

He saw other nomads fighting, protecting their home. But not only that - they were on the offensive. They attacked others. Broke their bones and threw them off of cliffs to their certain deaths. Sucked the air out of their lunges, a technique so deadly it was strictly forbidden.

This goes against all the principles he's ever been taught. How could those people be Air Nomads? They are supposed to embrace peace after all and never resort to violence, going on the defensive at worst, but never on the offensive, never. But they were fighting for their lives, weren't they? Didn't that validate killing?

This is just one of the many things he has no answers for, he supposes. And one of the many things that contradict themselves.

The Avatar doesn't belong to just one nation but all four. Yet, Aang should embrace Air Nomad principles. The Air Nomads don't have any pride. But supposedly that is exactly what killed them. And last but not least, the Air Nomads never resort to violence. Yet, he saw them intentionally hurt firebenders.

Aang closes his eyes, praying for sleep. Maybe tomorrow will give him the answers he so desperately seeks.

—

"This place is huge." Toph's eyes widen in awe as she slowly stands up again.

Sokka watches from his position on a big boulder overlooking a human-made path in the stone and dirt. So far, this is the only place a non-airbender could use to reach the temple, if he trusts Aang's knowledge of the area - which he does because the boy literally grew up here -, so he keeps watch on it. He doesn't think any Water Tribe Warrior will find his way up here because there is no good reason to risk the dangerous climb, but one can never be too safe. So while Aang, Zuko and Katara explore the temple, he and Toph stay behind and make sure they're truly alone.

Toph kicks a pebble down the cliffside. "And very high too from what I can tell. I can't even feel the pebble hit the ground."

Sokka leans forward a bit, careful to not lose balance and fall to a certain death. The abyss is indeed very deep, he can't see the ground due to the clouds. A weird feeling makes itself known in his stomach, twisting his insides and screaming at every fiber in his being to get away from the chasm. He leans back and tries not to think too hard about the fact that they are literally above the clouds. He's spent his whole life living on the ground, never climbing higher than a hill or a tree. Flying on Appa has been weird enough, even though he's getting used to it, but this is on a whole other level. How people can spend their entire life up here is beyond him but then again, he doesn't have the ability to control the winds around him.

A look at Toph tells him that the eartbender feels the same. Her eyes are widened in amazement at how big this place really is but at the same time, he sees a hidden fear in them. He can't imagine how this must be for her, being in an area where she could fall to her death every time she takes a step in the wrong direction and her only indication being the sheer nothingness she feels at certain spots. She's told him and the others about how she's able to feel the vibrations in the earth with her feet, all due to her bending, but if she can't feel a pebble hitting the ground, this must mean she's detecting a cheese-like landscape with literal holes of nothingness here and there. This has to be nothing short of terrifying.

But then again, the swamp had been the same. With water everywhere, she wasn't able to fight or even sense the monster that had attacked them out of nowhere. He's still feeling guilty about not being able to protect her entirely; for letting her get bitten.

Sokka doesn't really know why he feels this way, but he has the urge to protect the group he's traveling with. He knows that Toph is all too capable to handle herself but when he looks at her delicate features - those of a noblewoman, undoubtedly -, he wants nothing more than to keep her from any potential harm. At the same time, he appreciates having a capable ally in the event of a fight.

Then there's Aang who is of course the Avatar, the most powerful being in existence. He's not as innocent as he looks. But then again, he has only mastered one element and even though he imagines airbenders to be powerful, his pacifism and reluctance to fight make life harder than it needs to be. This is something Sokka can't understand. He's been raised on warfare and strategy, the war is a big factor in his life and that of everyone he knows. Violence is a big part of it, and a necessary one at that, whether that be hunting animals for survival or defending oneself from enemy attacks. He's trying, but as he learns more and more about Aang's culture, he discovers that his customs are entirely different. So if the airbender won't take the opportunity to strike first and potentially save his life, Sokka will.

Zuko is skilled in hunting and combat. Years of exile have shaped him, so much is obvious, and the scar speaks of an interesting backstory, though he has never dared to ask. But he can imagine that growing up in the Fire Nation court can't have been easy, especially not with Ozai as his father. Sokka only knows what the rest of the Water Tribe knows about Ozai, and that is not much and only about his cruelty and willingness to use violence to get his will, but it is enough to paint him a picture he doesn't want to stare too long at, and that is not because of his terrible drawing skills.

He's found that he and Zuko have a lot in common - both are princes, both have complicated relationships with their country and both left their home to do what they think is right, even if their stories on how they did that are different, and both have little sisters that have the right to be called terrifying prodigies in their respective element. Although Sokka can be grateful for Katara, from what Zuko tells him about Azula, which he only rarely does. He doesn't like to speak of his past so Sokka doesn't push. It's not like he has a reason to be proud either. But the occasional bonding about shared burdens is therapeutic and lifts a weight off his shoulders, even if it's only for a few moments.

Katara is of course one of the most capable fighters he has ever met. He hasn't actually seen her fight a lot but the stories he's told and the occasional time he's watched her are more than enough. And then there is this one ability that has always creeped him out - the ability to control one's body through their blood. It sends goosebumps up his spine when he thinks about it.

She is his little sister so of course he will always feel the need to protect her. He has a responsibility after all and that will never cease to exist as long as he lives. Accepting that his little sister is a grown woman now who can handle herself isn't easy when he still has memories of her tripping in the snow or climbing into his bed at night out of fear of evil spirits, but from what he's seeing now, the little girl is long gone. It saddens him that he wasn't there to see her reach the different steps in growing up. He can only hope to make it up to her now, as dire as their situation is.

"Do you think there are ghosts here or some kind of spirit?" Toph's curious voice interrupts his thoughts.

He regards her with a frown. "Why would you think that?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. I've never been outside Gaoling before you guys waltzed into the city and so obviously needed my help after getting your ass handed to you, so I can't speak from experience, but I sometimes got my maids to read scrolls to me when I was younger. And those scrolls were often about legends and spirits and all that stuff. So I thought that maybe there's some truth to it. I mean, we are standing in a place where genocide was committed and don't ghosts work like that? I wouldn't know. But the air here feels... different somehow."

Sokka thinks about that for a second. Of course he's heard of ghosts. The Water Tribes have no shortage of local myths and legends, and spirits are a real thing, he knows that from… experience. One of Katara's favorite stories as a kid was one about an ocean spirit. And the air does feel different. He's not sure how to describe it but it's like a loaded feeling of doom and sadness hanging over them, making the hairs on his arms stand up and his skin prickle in anticipation of something. No wonder, they are standing on a burial site. But ghosts? He's never believed in ghosts. Strictly speaking, the concept isn't too abstract and if spirits exist… but still. He is a man of science after all.

He shakes his head. "No, I don't think so. Ghosts aren't real. When we die, we die and that's it. We cross over to the Spirit World and don't remain here."

At least that is what he likes to tell himself. It's easier that way and he doesn't have time to dwell on things he can't explain.

"But what if ghosts are more complicated than that?" Toph asks. "What if they're not strictly dead humans but... other things? Or what if something goes wrong and humans don't cross over to the Spirit World?"

Huh. This is something he has never thought about. Spirits are real and if ghosts are just different kinds of spirits...

He didn't expect Toph of all people to be so interested in folklore. But then again, she is only just now discovering the world and has every right to be curious. Her body language - the angled head, the faint blush on her cheeks, the glint in her milky eyes, her nervously fidgeting fingers - tell him that she's not fully comfortable with asking him so many questions and exposing her lack of knowledge about something, for she does seem to care about being competent and not succumbing to fantasies about how women should act. This is a new side of her and he appreciates her trust in him.

"Well, if you see it from that perspective... then maybe. I honestly don't know," he answers and prepares to add something, but then an unfamiliar voice speaks behind them.

"She's right, you know. Ghosts are pretty complicated."

He whirls around, boomerang in hand. And stops dead in his tracks.

Before him, a figure is - standing, floating? -, appearing nearly fully translucent; Sokka can see the rocks on the other side but also the carefully sewn robes of the - ghost? Spirit?

"What are you?" he asks in a firm and confident voice (and he definitely didn't shriek, that wouldn't be manly) because that thing clearly isn't human. It has the face and body of one but the translucence and floating (or gliding? He's not sure) aside, there is just something off about it. "What do you want?"

"Sokka," Toph's voice reaches his ears, sounding very on edge. "Sokka, I can't feel him." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that her eyes are trained on the spot where the spirit hovers but that she can't actually feel him doesn't surprise him. It does nothing to calm him, however.

The thing bows its bald head. "I am a simple ghost, honoring my ancestor's home." So it is a ghost. He can feel his face pale and takes a step back, one hand still tightly clutching his boomerang. With one arm he reaches out for Toph, guiding her behind him because if she can't sense the thing, she won't be able to fight it. "Oh no, you don't need to be afraid of me. We can't affect the physical world."

Sokka swallows hard. He's out of words and that's rare for him. How do you speak to a ghost? It's Toph who speaks first. "So you're dead? Like really, really dead?"

The ghost nods. "Indeed, I am. I died a hundred years ago on the day of Sozin's comet." Bald head, robes that he's never seen before. Hanging around in one of the temples. He could slap himself. Of course their visit wouldn't go as smoothly as hoped.

But ghosts? He's never believed in them. And now one is standing before him. "But ghosts..." He's finally found his voice again, only to have it give out mid-sentence.

"...aren't real?" the Air Nomad ghost finishes for him. "Oh, we are very real. Just because most people can't see us, doesn't mean we don't exist."

"And why can we see you?" Toph asks and Sokka notices that this is probably the first time she's ever used the word 'see' without her beloved sarcasm.

"Because the spiritual energy here is very strong. The Air Nomads were very spiritual; that's why this place is a gateway for all kinds of spirits, even after they're long gone. These are sacred grounds you're standing on."

Almost subconsciously, he takes a look down at the ground beneath his feet. Nothing sacred about a bunch of rocks but he's not going to offend a ghost who could do Tui knows what to him, no matter how peaceful he claims himself to be.

"You think that I'm lying," interrupts that voice his thoughts. That voice that doesn't sound quite human and seems to change its tone every other word.

"What?" is the only thing that comes out of his mouth as he looks up again. Very eloquent. "No, I-"

"Oh, it's alright. I figure that I'd be scared too if I'd meet me."

"I am not scared!" He totally is but admitting that in front of something that doesn't belong to this world is equal to suicide and therefore not an option.

"Oh, but you are. And that's alright. I know you think I'm lying when I say that ghosts can't affect the physical world, but I'm not. I don't have a reason to."

"And how do I-" he cuts himself off. "Wait, I've never said that I think you're lying."

"You did. I can sense it." His eyes go wide. What?

"I can sense the emotions of mortals and their thoughts. No, I can't read your mind but I can guess what you are thinking pretty accurately." This is bad. This is very, very bad. And he shouldn't be thinking that because now the ghost knows too. "I haven't had much opportunity to practice, though. Not many humans find their way up here. Which reminds me - you are here with the Avatar? I've seen him with two others wandering up to the temple."

"Yeah," Toph answers warily. "He wanted to come here to poke around old skeletons."

"Ah yes, I am afraid he won't find much more than that. I still remember him from a hundred years ago. Such a good soul."

"You knew him?" That shouldn't come as a surprise since they lived in the same temple but still.

"Of course I did. He is the Avatar after all. I knew him only briefly but also very well."

"That makes no sense," Sokka interjects. "Either you knew him well or you didn't."

"It makes perfect sense. You see, I am not one person but hundreds."

That makes even less sense. "But you're... you're just one person."

"I am the minds of hundreds united into one being. I do not have a name and yet, I have hundreds. I am one because in the end, we are all one. We are all connected, all halves of the same whole."

"Wait," Toph says and cocks her head. "That's the same philosophy the swamp benders had."

"Then those are very wise people."

Sokka forces himself to look more closely at the ghost's face. It's the face of a human, just like him and Toph, but at the same time he can't make out any features that stick out. Perhaps this is because of hundreds of different looking people being forced into one body and that would also explain the ever-changing voice but he can feel a headache coming on just thinking about it so he averts his gaze.

"But how does this work? One person and at the same time hundreds? Are you all the Air Nomads at once?" Toph seems to be very curious about this topic.

The ghost shakes his nearly transparent head. "No, only the one's from this temple. I'm sure you'll find others like me at the other ones. And as for how this works - ghosts are dead humans, sometimes even animals. We don't always linger. Sometimes, we still feel like we have something left to do in this world and that's why we stay. Other times we pass into the Spirit World when we have found our peace."

"So are you saying that... you haven't? Found peace?"

Another shake of his head. "I have. Everyone here has. That is where Air Nomads differentiate from other nations. We were more in tune with our chakras and inner peace - that is why we were successful to move on to the Spirit World and not haunt this place forever. However, a part of us still lingers and always will, for there is still something to be done: our culture must be preserved. Our ways of living must be passed on. That is why we are here and this is the only attachment we have to this world. It can only be in balance with the four nations present. But that doesn't mean that we haven't found peace. We do not have any personal grievances keeping us here, only our duty to the world."

His head hurts. He can feel his mind trying to comprehend the facts, but it's hard.

"And are there any Fire Nation ghosts here?" Toph blows a strand of black hair out of her face.

"Of course there are," the ghost answers. "The ghosts of the firebenders here are… more troubled than the average person. They tend to linger the longest after they have passed. You can be glad the sun is setting, otherwise your three friends up in the temple would be in for a surprise. Firebenders rise with the sun after all and their ghosts are only active during the day."

"But you said that ghosts couldn't affect the physical world," Sokka questions skeptically. His eyes narrow. What is that ghost implying? Maybe he really had been lying about that.

"Oh, they can't. But the mind isn't really something physical."

He takes a step back further. No.

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be fine. And you don't have to fear anything from me. Air Nomads are peaceful, even in death."

"So other ghosts could attack someone's mind?" For some reason, Toph looks more curious than afraid. And Sokka hates to admit it, but he feels the same. He also knows that the earthbender has a habit of masking her emotions, especially fear, but she seems genuine, even if she can't sense her speaking partner.

The ghost nods. "They can. It doesn't end well for mortals but they do have a chance of fighting them off. You're very lucky these are Air Nomad grounds. Would you have stumbled upon a burial site belonging to any other nation, its inhabitants most likely would not have welcomed your presence. Of course this also differentiates from person to person, but most are very territorial and not keen on compromises. And some just ignore their surroundings completely."

Well, that sounds inviting. The more he learns about ghosts, the less he wants to do with them. "Territorial? What is their territory?" Despite his senses screaming at him to turn around and run away, he asks because knowing the enemy is always a good strategy. And this ghost in front of them doesn't seem to be malicious, although he'd still like to put a distance between them.

"Burial sites, ancient grounds. Sacred places. In general, areas where there is a high spiritual energy or where the dead feel a close connection to their home and culture. It is not unheard of, however, that some wander off to the place where they have died. Those are the ones that most likely will never find peace. They are dangerous and should be kept away from at all times."

"And why are you telling us all that and not the Avatar?"

The ghost bows his head at that with a sad look on his face. "Because it wouldn't be wise. He is already seeing his home in ruins with the skeletons of all those he loved scattered around. If he would see me - us - now, he could become overwhelmed and lose control. The Avatar is a highly spiritual being - too much spiritual energy, especially at such a young age, is dangerous."

"But I'm sure he would want to see you." This doesn't seem fair. If Sokka would be in Aang's place, he'd jump at the opportunity to speak with someone he once knew and loved. But at the same time, he understands better than anyone else that sometimes what someone wants is not what someone needs. So it doesn't surprise him when the ghost says exactly that with another bow of his head.

"But you can tell him one thing: at the Eastern Air Temple, there is a guru waiting for him there. If he wants to become a fully realized Avatar - which he must - he must visit him and learn from his teachings."

The Eastern Air Temple. A guru. Maybe he could give the answers to so many questions. Sokka nods and looks at Toph. "Well, looks like we have a new destination."

But before she can answer, a beam of light shoots from within the temple high into the air, followed by a loud crash.

—

He can taste ash and death and fear in the back of his throat and the air feels heavy with something that he can't name. Doom? Sadness? Nostalgia? Zuko doesn't know but it's something. Like it's telling them to get off those grounds, to not disturb the dead and never come back. But maybe that's just his own guilty conscience.

His ancestors did that. His very own great grandfather - who really wasn't all that great, considering - ordered the deaths of these people - no, he ordered their slaughter, like they were animals. And for what? A warped sense of superiority? Growing up, he was taught that his nation was bringing prosperity to the world and that the war was their way of doing that. That fire is the superior element in the natural order and that other cultures just needed to be educated.

Even if he would follow that logic - in what world does genocide count as education?

He is disgusted with himself for ever believing all those lies. He had his doubts, sure, but had he ever really spared a second thought for what happened to the Air Nomads? No. He'd been too preoccupied with whether or not he could sneak into the kitchens or what trick Azula would play on him next. And looking back, it had been a survival tactic. If he would have ever dared to speak out against the propaganda and question the Fire Nation's greatness, it wouldn't have ended well for him. The war meeting that would follow in a few years made that clear.

But still.

Zuko steps over yet another skeleton and wonders how their bodies managed to stay in such good condition for a century. Maybe it's the altitude or the cold air or the fact that not many animals live up here. In the peripheral vision of his good eye, he sees red armor lying on the ground. He kneels down to examine it more closely. The metal is cool and the design familiar, a clear predecessor for today's armor.

The sight of skeletons in Fire Nation armor scattered around should fill him with dread and horror, hate even. He should be raging against their killers. But he doesn't. It doesn't fill him with relief either, for those are still his countrymen, his subjects. They only did what they were ordered to do. But that doesn't excuse the horrible crimes they have committed, the life they've stamped out under their pointed boots and burned mercilessly out of people whose only crime was not being like them.

By the look of it, the Air Nomads didn't sit around and wait for their death. They fought, otherwise there wouldn't be so many dead firebenders lying here, even if their number is far smaller than those of the dead airbenders. So much for peaceful and non-violent. But he supposes that if the choice is life or death, there is no choice.

He wonders how Aang is holding up. Waking up a century later to find out that your people are dead is one thing. Actually seeing the evidence of the genocide is another.

Zuko stalks over to a wall. Most of the temple lies in ruins but some walls are still holding up, the stone strong and steady, interwoven by some plants that somehow survive up here. If the walls could talk, he is sure they would scream with injustice.

There are paintings on the wall, the paint faded and in cracks over the course of a hundred years. He sees sky bison in different positions, flying around, chasing each other. As much as he had to get used to Appa, the giant bison is actually a very majestic and intelligent animal. Seeing a whole herd fly around must have been an amazing sight.

On another wall, he sees a figure resembling a monkey with three smaller ones beside him hovering over something blue that looks like waves. In what he guesses is a continuation of said painting, the three small monkeys hold tools for harvesting and building in their brown paws, and next to that is a village with humans running around. As he runs one hand lightly across the stone, feeling its texture with his fingertips, Zuko guesses that those paintings tell stories and myths, maybe their version of how humans were created. Now those stories would never be told again and their culture would be lost.

Another wave of guilt surges up in him and he has to avert his gaze and step away as if he's not worthy of seeing those paintings. Maybe he shouldn't be here, maybe he shouldn't disrespect the dead with his presence here.

The last rays of the fading sun shine through the halls, its golden rays warming his skin and belying the tragedy that happened here, illuminating the temple in a mystical dark light. As he walks through the snow, boots making a crunching sound beneath him, he sometimes thinks he can see shadows out of the corner of his eye, creeping around, stalking the intruders. A tingling sensation on the back of his neck makes his hairs stand up but he shakes it off, although he keeps an eye on his surroundings.

The Fire Nation doesn't believe in spirits, not anymore. It wouldn't be practical for people who define themselves by war. But his time in the Earth Kingdom has proved him otherwise so he wouldn't be surprised if they'd encounter some here, although he'd rather avoid it.

"Oh, hey little guy," he hears a female voice not far from him, the sound echoing through the temple and disturbing the silence looming over it. "Where did you come from?" Zuko follows the noise and ends up in what must be the most impressive hall he's ever seen.

Different statues of men and women line the walls and he has to crane his neck to see the ceiling. The statues continue on the ground and end in a circle that gets smaller and smaller in each round, resembling the pattern of a snail shell. When he comes closer, he can make out individual details on the stone-carved statues. None is like the other and if it weren't for their gray color, he would think he's standing in front of real humans. He had thought the Fire Palace was impressive. It pales in comparison to this.

Awestruck, he wanders through the rows of statues. He doesn't know who any of these people are but when he takes a few steps closer, he does recognize a tall man with ornate robes, long hair and something that he recognizes from history scrolls in a topknot: the pin of the crown prince of the Fire Nation. Avatar Roku. He's a shunned topic in the Fire Nation, a traitor to his country, Avatar or not, but Zuko managed to read up about him a bit in the library in the palace, which comes in handy now.

All these people are the past Avatars. This is a hall dedicated to them.

After Roku, there is no other statue and he guesses that is because Aang's would be next, only that he is believed to be dead and that no one is left to chisel one anyway. In its place on the ground crouches Katara with a chittering animal in her lap with white fur and long ears and limbs. Zuko doesn't know what it is but it doesn't seem dangerous and if it were, he's sure she wouldn't want his help.

After their fight in the swamp a few days ago, they haven't spoken a word to each other. She hasn't even glared at him since, just pretended he doesn't exist. If she really hates him that much, he won't make an effort to get her to like him. He's used to people being annoyed by his presence, hate follows him wherever he goes.

But as much as her attitude annoys him, he can't help but see the similarities to his own. He grew up with the same opinion as her: that his home country was the greatest in the world and that others needed to bow down. And while he never believed that genocide was the answer, he did go along with it. Katara fights for her tribe with a passion and spite that could rival that of a firebender. She believes that her nation is only doing what it has to do and that she has a duty to them. That everyone who opposes her home is an enemy and a traitor.

He's had that same attitude once and had been filled with rage and hate and anger. When Zuko looks at her, he sees a younger version of himself. His travels through the Earth Kingdom have opened his eyes. He can only hope that the same happens for Katara.

He's not asking her to leave her home behind. He's asking her to be more tolerant of other cultures and see other people's perspectives. In fact, he isn't asking her at all because this is a realization she has to come to on her own.

The sound of a strong wind gust and cloth flattering catches his attention. Katara and he are in the hall so the only other person who could be the cause of that noise is Aang, who disappeared as soon as they had reached the temple. Zuko walks out of the hall and hears footsteps behind him that must belong to the waterbender.

It's not long before they locate Aang inside a big chamber hidden behind some dark curtains. It only takes him a second to spot the reason the airbender is kneeling on the cold stone. A skeleton is lying propped up against a wall, the skull looking toward the ceiling in a disturbing grimace. Shreds of yellow and orange cover it sparsely and around its neck hangs a large medallion with the symbol for air carved into the wood. Other skulls lying around it in a circle, covered with red and black helmets, complete the horrifying picture.

"Aang?" Katara asks beside him and takes a step forward, her voice being softer than anything he's ever heard from her. Said boy doesn't respond, just continues to stare at the scene before him. "Aang," she tries again and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I know this is hard but-"

She gets cut off by the arrow still visible beneath the thin hair on his scalp starting to glow, losing its usual blue and changing to a blinding white. The wind around them starts to pick up, getting faster and faster until the only thing Zuko can hear is the loud rustle in his ears and his own voice calling out the monk's name. He doesn't know what is going on or what is happening to Aang, but he knows that it isn't good. Dread fills him, from his toes up to his forehead; his muscles tense in preparation.

The wind gets even stronger, causing the ceiling of the chamber to crash along with its walls. He gets blown away, unable to withstand the force of nature and feels himself sliding over the stone and several skeletons and pieces of armor that poke him through his tunic. A look to the side confirms that Katara isn't holding up much better than him. It also tells him that she is about to be crushed by a falling column.

Not hesitating for a second, he leaps to the side, hoping that the wind won't blow him away before he can reach her. He lands with a loud thud on the ground, ignoring the pain blooming in his elbow and instead focuses on the body beneath him. He grabs her and rolls to the side just before he hears the crash of the column falling and landing where Katara cowered only seconds before. She gasps and starts to swap his hands away, either out of instinct or because it's him but he doesn't care and instead lets her go to raise his head.

Aang is floating in the air now over the destroyed chamber with a large sphere of wind surrounding him, still with their back to them. His tattoos glow so brightly, Zuko has to avert his eyes to avoid getting blinded.

"Aang!" he hears Katara call out. She's screaming but even that is drowned out by the deafening roar of the fast-moving air that reminds him of the hurricanes in the Fire Nation.

Zuko turns his head to find a spot to hide from the dangerous debris flying around but then a sharp pain goes through his head. He cries out and ducks but the only thing he can see before his eyes is white, the stinging pain getting stronger and stronger with each passing second, splitting his skull in half. Beside him, he hears Katara scream but he can't move, he can't breathe, he can't focus and the only thing he feels is hot pain, consuming his entire body and pressing the air out of his lungs.

The memory of searing heat on his skin and burning flesh comes up and he prays to Agni to let the agony end, to release him from the incredible pressure building up in the back of his head, threatening to make his head explode. There's copper on his tongue and ash in his throat and fire on his skin and-

And then he feels nothing.

Notes:

This is it! The biggest plot point of the story! I'm excited to see your reactions next chapter, whether good or bad.

Tbh, I'm not quite sure if I like the ghost scene or not. No idea what I was thinking when I wrote this in, but it does add a bit to the world building and plays a minor (like, really minor) role later on. And I didn't wanna rewrite it as there were more important parts to edit, so here we are. Let me know what you think maybe?

Chapter 8: Seven

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

At first, he doesn't notice that something is wrong.

He woke up to see a concerned Toph staring down at him and telling him that Sokka and she found the three of them lying unconscious on the ground after seeing a beam of light shooting high into the air right above the temple. Zuko couldn't find any injuries on his body and neither could Katara after she woke only seconds after him. He didn't ask but by the look of it, she had felt the same agonizing pain he did.

What that was, he didn't have a clue but he was glad it was over and that he was still alive with no visible injuries.

But injuries weren't always visible.

After Aang regained consciousness, not long after Katara and Zuko woke up, they wasted no time but to mount Appa and head for the Earth Kingdom. With so many Water Tribe troops in the area, the light surely had been noticed and they couldn't risk being discovered. They rode well into the night and only stopped when they reached land just after the first rays of the rising sun peeked over the horizon. Being too paranoid to sleep on Appa during their journey and too exhausted to eat, they went straight to bed after hastily unrolling their bedrolls.

So now he's sitting with the rest of the group around a fire Aang ignited under the bright sun of early afternoon in the Southern Earth Kingdom, trying to make sense of the events of the last few hours. The animal that Katara found had followed them and was now part of the group - Aang had identified him as a lemur and named him Momo.

"It was like I had no control," Aang says, absentmindedly playing with a stick he found on the ground. "One moment, I was kneeling before... before Gyatso" - he visibly swallows - "and I was just so... so angry and sad and everything was just too much. And Zuko and Katara were there but then suddenly, it was like I wasn't even myself anymore. And I didn't know what was happening but I couldn't stop it or control it and I didn't even really realize what was going on around me..."

"Your tattoos were glowing," Zuko supplies. "They were really bright."

Aang rubs the back of his head with one hand and traces the arrow under his short hair. "I guess then I know what happened. The monks told me that it's called the 'Avatar State'. It's the most powerful state an Avatar can reach and only fully realized Avatars are able to unlock it. And well, since I'm obviously not... I don't really know why it happened."

"Well, you were really emotional at that moment. Maybe it can be accidentally triggered," he muses.

Aang nods, still deep in thought. "Maybe. The monks wouldn't tell me more about it. They said they would once it was time."

"If the Avatar State is really so powerful, then why can it be triggered by accident?" Toph raises her eyebrows beneath her long bangs, one hand on Momo's fur. "That seems pretty stupid to me."

She's right. If the most powerful being in the world could accidentally enter a state that could move entire mountains, then that doesn't seem too good for the world. Especially if the being has no control over said state.

"Well, you guys weren't the only productive ones yesterday," Sokka says after no one has anyone to say to Toph's comment and stretches his fingers. "Toph and I found a ghost."

That seems to bring Aang out of his thoughts. "A ghost? Where?"

"Not far from where we left Appa. It suddenly came up to us. Said it's the souls of all Air Nomads who lived at the Southern Temple in one being because we're all the same essentially. Like the swamp people told us."

Aang nods. "The Air Nomads had some beliefs that are similar to the ones of the people in the swamp. But I always thought ghosts wandered this earth because they couldn't find peace and still had something left to do. And the monks always said that they wouldn't become ghosts because they've already reached peace..." His brow furrows.

Ghosts. Zuko can feel the hairs on his neck stand up. He's always believed in them but always had the luck to never encounter one. Now knowing that one was so close by the whole time they were in the temple...

"He said that he's still there not because of the whole finding peace thing, but because he wanted to preserve Air Nomad culture. No idea how he plans on doing that as a ghost waiting for people to wander up to the temple but then again, I'm not a ghost." Sokka shrugs.

"Well, I've heard that sometimes people linger just for the sake of staying on this earth. Maybe it's just simply about the notion of something from the Air Nomads still existing," Zuko says and brings one of his knees closer to his chest. "But I don't really know anything about ghosts." Aang looks at him and nods thoughtfully.

"But that's not the only discovery we've made." Toph leans forward a bit. "He also said that there is a guru waiting for you at the Eastern Air Temple."

Aang pipes up. "A guru? At the Eastern Air Temple? That's where they wanted to send me before I ran away."

"Are you sure that what the ghost said is true?" Zuko addresses Sokka. "Or, better said, still true? Maybe there was a guru waiting there once for Aang. Doesn't mean that he has to still be there. That information could be outdated."

Sokka shrugs again. "No idea. But it's worth a shot, right, Aang?"

Said teenager nods enthusiastically. "If there is a guru there, then he could help me with this whole Avatar thing. Maybe he could teach me to control the Avatar State."

"Then it's settled." Sokka reaches behind him and brings out a map from his bag before rolling it out on the ground before him. Aang and Zuko lean in a bit closer to see him tracing the route with his finger. "We're somewhere around here at the moment and the Eastern Air Temple is all the way here." He points to a spot at the very east of the map. "If we start heading there tomorrow and stop for supplies at one or two villages, we'd need a week at most, probably a bit less."

While Sokka rolls up the map, Aang retrieves his stick and starts drawing random patterns in the dirt. "I could have hurt you guys..." His brow is furrowed. "And part of the temple is now even more destroyed because of me. I'm so sorry."

Zuko reaches out to squeeze the younger boy's shoulder in support. "It's not your fault. You saw the remains of your home. No one can blame you." Least of all Zuko himself. He still feels guilty for ever having entered the temple in the first place.

"But I did hurt you." Aang suddenly looks up. "Didn't I? You and Katara were lying unconscious on the ground."

"Yeah, what was up with that?" Toph wants to know. "From what I gathered, you don't have any injuries so that rules out getting hit in the head."

Zuko doesn't have an answer to that. He shrugs. "I honestly don't know. There was suddenly this pain in my head and then everything was black. I have no idea what happened."

"Maybe it has something to do with Aang getting all glowy-eyed," Sokka guesses. "I mean, you losing consciousness was somewhere around the time that this giant light beam appeared in the sky."

They all grow silent, no one having an answer to that. After a few minutes and the sounds of four stomachs making their emptiness known, Zuko gets up and grabs the brewing pot. "I'm gonna get started on breakfast." He heads for the small stream nearby. Cooking is usually Katara's job but he fails to see why she should be the only one doing it all the time and receive no help. She probably wouldn't want it, especially not from him, but he doesn't care.

He doesn't come far until he sees Katara heading back to camp coming from the direction of the small river. She went to bathe herself half an hour ago, just after they all woke up. As she comes to a stop before him, she eyes the pot in his hands in confusion. "What do you want with that?"

"Get started on the cooking. I wasn't sure how long you'd need and the others were getting hungry..." She doesn't answer for a few moments, seemingly mulling something over in her head. He prepares himself to get yelled at and told that she doesn't want any help from him, that he shouldn't rush her and should stop being so impatient and that she's perfectly capable of cooking herself, but the tirade never comes. Instead, she nods. "Okay. But I can take it from here."

She reaches out and takes the pot from his hands, careful not to touch his skin, before turning around and going back to the stream. Well. That was unexpected. Ever since waking up, she's seemed confused and like something wasn't right with her. She didn't even glare at him.

He guesses that this is an improvement and starts heading back to the others. Perhaps she's grateful for yesterday. He did save her life after all. If he hadn't pushed her out of the way, that pillar would have crushed her. He didn't really think about it at that moment and acted on pure instinct. Even if Katara hated him, he couldn't just let her die. He would have done that for anyone, even if he might never get a thank you.

After a few minutes, Katara comes back with an empty pot in hand, looking even more distressed. It's the most fear she's openly shown ever since waking up on that beach. "Guys." Her voice quivers. "We have a problem." They all look up at her in concern. "My bending-" she starts but cuts herself off as if she can't bring herself to say the words out loud. She takes a deep breath and then forces herself to make eye contact with the group. "My bending is gone."

They all stare at her in silence for a few minutes; the only thing that can be heard is the crackling of the fire and bird calls somewhere in the background. Then:

"What?"

"How?"

"Is that even possible?"

"Guys!" She almost yells and holds up a hand to silence Aang, Sokka and Toph. "I don't know how or why. But it's gone. I can't sense the water anymore and I can't control it. Trust me, I've tried." She looks as if she's near tears and Zuko supposes he can't blame her. If his bending would be gone, he wouldn't know what to do either. Speaking of which...

He holds up a hand and tries to ignite a flame in his palm.

No.

Oh no.

"You too?" Aang looks at him in horror. Zuko tries again and again to create a flame, snapping his fingers, turning and trying to shoot a fireball, flicking his wrist in an attempt to set the grass underneath him on fire. But nothing. He can't even create a single spark.

This can't be happening. Agni, this is not happening.

"I don't understand..." Aang shakes his head in disbelief. "Yesterday, everything was fine and then..."

"And then you entered the Avatar State," Toph supplies while Zuko still tries to draw his inner fire out. "Zuko and Katara both were unconscious, right? For seemingly no reason. And they didn't have any reason to bend yesterday so they wouldn't know until they had one. So we can assume that your Avatar State had something to do with it and they were also the only ones in immediate reach."

"But I've never heard of someone losing their bending... how could this happen... I don't know what the Avatar State would have to do with it..." Aang's eyes are wider than what should be considered healthy as he shakes his head again and again, murmuring to himself while eying the ground as if it held all the answers.

"I've felt weird ever since I woke up yesterday." Katara's jaw hardens. "Like something wasn't right with me but I couldn't put my finger on it." Zuko looks up at her, still standing. So her too? He knows exactly what she's talking about. Something is wrong with him and now that he knows what, it's easier to pinpoint what.

He stares at the fire and tries to reach for that connection he has with his element. Normally, he can sense it from a few feet afar but now he's certain that if he'd turn around and walk out of earshot of the fire's crackling, he wouldn't know it was there. He breathes deeply in and out, focusing on the orange flames before him. Usually, he can control the fire with his breathing but now, nothing happens.

His inner fire is gone.

He can faintly hear the others arguing and Katara's voice getting louder and louder. "Yes Sokka, I've tried everything! I wouldn't come here and say that without being completely sure, you know what bending means to me. So can you please just back off!" At that, the fire grows bigger and glows more brightly for a moment before reducing itself to its normal size again, causing Momo to jump up in surprise.

They all quit their nagging and stare at it in shock.

When benders get angry, their element responds to that. Zuko has had his fair share of accidentally setting things on fire. But the fire reacting to Katara's yelling could only mean one thing.

"Katara," he says and stands up, approaching her slowly as if not to startle her. Her blue eyes mirror the confusion and horror his own must display. "Hold out your hand with your palm facing upwards." She stares at him for a moment but then does as he says, too shocked to argue. "And now concentrate and imagine creating a flame in your hand."

Her jaw tightens and she swallows, focusing on her slightly trembling palm. After a few moments in which they stare at her expectantly in silence, a small flame ignites in her hand.

—

Tui and La, this is not happening.

Katara pinches herself and feels the sharp pain of her nails against her skin in hopes of waking up from a horrible nightmare. But nothing happens. The sun is still hanging low in the sky and she is still sitting alone at the stream.

She knows she should be able to sense the water. To feel comforted by it in a way only a bender can understand. But she feels nothing. It's like there is a void in her, an emptiness, threatening to consume her.

Tears spill out of her eyes, sliding down her cheeks while she draws her knees closer to her chest and buries her head in them. Bending has always been an important part of her identity. It has allowed her to come closer to being free, to express herself. Only because of her bending abilities has she been allowed to escape some of the strict rules of the South Pole, only because of her skill has she been allowed to leave the tribe at all.

Of course this wouldn't have happened hadn't she left in the first place.

La, she wishes she would have just stayed at the South Pole. She knows that this is not realistic, that she never would have forgiven herself had she not gone looking for Sokka but for a moment, she allows herself to grieve the loss of her bending even if it puts her feelings before those of others, even over those of her brother's.

Stupid Sokka. Stupid Avatar. Stupid Southern Air Temple.

She doesn't understand. How can Aang going into the Avatar State cause her bending to be lost? That couldn't have happened in the past, otherwise the dangers of it would be known, even centuries later. The spirits are punishing her, clearly, and for what, she has no idea.

For trying to protect her tribe? She only wants to do what is best for her people. What is so wrong with that?

And to make it worse, she now is not simply a non-bender, no, that would have been too merciful, but a firebender.

A firebender.

She now wields the element of destruction, of hate and death. Of the nation that is in the process of destroying the world and her people, who is trying to erase every culture but their own. Water is soothing and calm - Fire is nothing like that. Not in the slightest. How is she supposed to bend an element that is the complete opposite of her own?

Not that she is going to learn how to bend fire. Katara has no interest in that and wants nothing to do with anything resembling flames and ash. The rational part of her brain tells her that this kind of thinking isn't smart, that she would have to be like her element - her real element - and adapt. Without her waterbending, she is defenseless, doesn't know how to handle weapons or how to knock someone down in hand-to-hand combat. Fire is all she has now, whether she likes it or not, and it would be clever to learn how to use it for her own safety.

But the wound is still too fresh, too new and raw and so she doesn't have the energy to think clearly about this. Instead, she allows herself to grieve the loss of her identity.

Master Katara is no more.

What would her tribe say if they knew about this? If she'd simply be a non-bender, they would still accept her. Maybe they'd even be glad for it because then she would be forced to abide by the rules. But her as a firebender? They would never allow that, princess or not. There simply is no place for a firebender amidst the Water Tribe. Would they execute her? Banish her? Lock her away?

Another wave of pain surges through her. She's lost her people. Of course they don't know that yet, just as much as they probably think she's dead, but if they knew, she'd lose them. There is no coming back from this. Aang can't simply reverse what he has done, no one can. At least no one they know of but they also have no idea who to ask or where to go. She doubts anyone knows.

So what is she supposed to do now? Her plan had been simple: train Aang and then somehow get him to either the South or North Pole. But she can't go back there now. It would be suicide.

But does that matter? This isn't about her personal feelings or safety, this is about the world, the existence of her tribe. If the price for her people's life would be hers, then wasn't that worth it? She is the princess of the Southern Water Tribe. She has a responsibility and can't put herself over others.

But Katara doesn't want to die. Maybe this is selfish of her but she really doesn't. And now she is stuck somewhere in the Earth Kingdom as a firebender with nowhere to go.

Her ears pick up the sound of approaching footsteps, causing her to inwardly groan. Hasn't she been clear enough that she wants to be alone? She hears someone settling down beside her but she doesn't look up, willing whoever is sitting next to her to go away.

But that doesn't happen. Instead, the person stays but makes no noise, so that, after a few minutes, she almost believes there never was anyone there to begin with. Warily, she looks up and groans out loud this time.

"Great. It's you." Her voice sounds dry and more raspy than usual.

"I know you hate me but I know exactly how you feel right now." Zuko flicks his wrist in a sloppy motion that would have earned her nothing but mockery back home, and a small tendril of water rises toward the sky before it collapses after a second. The bending is pathetic, toddlers can do better, but jealousy flares up in her all the same. This is her element, she should be able to command it, not him.

"It's like you lost a part of yourself. A part of your identity," he continues, staring at the horizon. "There is a hole inside you and you can't fill it, no matter how hard you try. The world is wrong and doesn't feel the same." He's describing her feelings word for word but she will never let him know that. Instead, she huffs and wipes her tears away with the back of her hand, embarrassed that he has seen her in such a state.

Yes, he saved her life back at the Southern Air Temple. If he hadn't pushed her away, endangering himself in the process, she wouldn't be here right now. A dramatic part of her wants to say that maybe that would have been better than bearing the burden of being a firebender, but she knows that's not true and shuts the voice in the back of her mind down rather quickly.

"How do you... how do you feel?" He turns his head to look at her, dark hair swinging lightly in the breeze. "Firebenders have an inner flame within them. I suppose that feels rather weird for someone who wasn't born with it." He clears his throat while she mulls the thought over.

Yes, she does feel different. She can't sense the water around her anymore and feels helpless because of this, but there is also this warmth in her now. The air is still crisp but she's not freezing and she knows that this has nothing to do with her being used to the arctic cold of the poles. When standing in front of that fire, she had felt... connected to it. In some weird way that she couldn't grasp yet.

"Weird," Katara offers. "I can't pinpoint it. But weird."

Zuko nods thoughtfully. "I feel the same. It's like there is something calming inside of me. It feels different than Fire but I can't exactly name what it is either."

She doesn't know how it could come to this. First she loses her bending, then gets the cursed ability to control fire and is now talking with the Fire Prince himself about it. This shouldn't be happening, she shouldn't be talking to him. And yet she does. He is the only person who can understand how she feels.

"Listen, Aang still needs to learn water and fire but, well, we can't exactly do that anymore. So I think it's best if we try to learn from each other, to our benefit and to Aang's-"

"No," she cuts him off. He may be sympathetic to her situation but that doesn't excuse anything. And that certainly doesn't make her want to learn firebending.

"Katara-"

"I said no." She stands up abruptly and turns to leave.

"You know this is the smartest thing to do in our situation. We can't go around defenseless and I thought you wanted Aang to save the world? He can't do that if he only knows two elements."

She comes to a halt. Fuck. Zuko is right. And Katara hates it.

The only way that the world, her tribe, has a chance is if Aang becomes a fully realized Avatar. And that means wielding all four elements, not just two. It just so happens that his two teachers are out of commission right now. But if she would learn firebending and Zuko waterbending, Aang would stand a chance. The process would be slower, yes, but it would at least be something. Finding new teachers is out of the question.

She expects Zuko to catch up to her, to force himself in her way to try to make her see reason. But he doesn't do that and so she turns to find him still sitting by the stream, head turned in an uncomfortable position to watch her.

She closes her eyes for a brief second and breathes deep in and out. "Fine," she says and grits her teeth. "But only for Aang."

—

In the dead of night, the Avatar finds himself sitting under a tree, meditating. His insomnia has only gotten worse and he knows that he needs his sleep to concentrate on mastering three elements but that is easier said than done.

He doesn't know what he expected when visiting the Southern Air Temple. Of course his home is in ruins, abandoned, now haunted by ghosts. Genocide is not reversible. But still, a small part of him hoped to recognize the halls he once loved. But there had been nothing but sadness and grief for his lost culture. How could one prepare themself to see that?

And all he did was destroy the temple even further, blowing up walls and bringing pillars to collapse, endangering his friends in the process, the only people he has in this strange, new world. If he didn't go into the Avatar State, all this wouldn't have happened. The temple wouldn't be even more damaged and Zuko and Katara would still have their original bending.

He doesn't understand. He's never before heard of something like that happening to people and even if, certainly not something caused by the Avatar State. And worst of all - he has no control over it. He could have killed his friends and destroyed the whole temple. This is not something that he could have come back from.

But that already happened, hasn't it? Zuko's and Katara's bending is now switched and unless they come up with an idea on how to fix this, they're stuck that way. They haven't been angry at him so far, haven't glared or insulted him, but he's certain they blame him. How could they not? He is the reason an important part of their lives is now destroyed. Bending is an expression of oneself and a part of one's identity. To have that taken away or switched to another element... he can't imagine how they must feel right now.

It's a violation on a deeply personal level. He feels gross. He feels sick.

He should be used to it. Destroying people's lives. After all, this is what he's best at. He ran away from his problems and left the world to wither away in a hundred-year long war, took its hope and condemned thousands of people to die and suffer and now he's hurt two of the only people he has left.

This is not who he wants to be. The Air Nomads taught him to be good, to be selfless, to be enlightened. He's always thought he made a pretty good Air Nomad. Apparently, he does not. When it really matters, he fails.

But who he wants to be doesn't matter when it comes to the question of who he needs to be. As a person. As Avatar. So far, his work as a bridge between the two worlds hasn't impressed anyone.

But Aang is afraid of himself. Of what he can do. He's always thought being the Avatar is a responsibility he doesn't want to bear, a burden. That's why he ran away after all, to be just Aang the airbender and not Aang the Avatar. Turns out, one cannot run from their destiny. But he's never been afraid of who he is. In a way, being the Avatar has always felt natural, regardless of whether he wanted it or not. Until now.

The monks did mention the Avatar State. Once. And that was it. They said they would teach him about it later, that his most powerful state can also be his most vulnerable and to tread lightly. That he should master the other three elements first and go on a spiritual journey. But that didn't happen and now he is stuck a hundred years later with no one to guide him but a supposed guru, who might or might not be waiting for him and who might or might not know about the Avatar State.

He is lost. He is thoroughly lost. And if he can accidentally go into a state where he is beyond all reason, then what else can he do? How else could he hurt people without being in control?

He doesn't want to know.

Aang forces himself to breathe evenly. There is still much to learn about his own powers and their dangers but there are some things that he does know. Like his connection to past Avatars.

When an Avatar meditates, he can access his past lives and console them for guidance. That is exactly what he needs right now.

But no matter how hard he tries, how hard he focuses and concentrates and tries to clear his mind, he feels nothing. No voices, no energy, no sudden clarity - nothing. He's been sitting here for hours but everything is silent. The only thing that comes close to Avatar Kyoshi is the very earth he is sitting on, the only thing reminding him of Avatar Kuruk is the flowing water of the stream nearby and the only way Avatar Yangchen communicates with him is through the soft breeze whistling through the leaves above him.

Once again, he feels all alone.

—

"You need to guide it - no, not like that, gentler. Don't force it." Katara resists the urge to slap a hand to her forehead as she tries teaching Zuko and Aang waterbending. Not an easy task, given how fundamentally different water and fire are, both in nature and bending style.

"But it's not - it's not doing what I tell it to do." Zuko lowers his hands in frustration and watches as Aang creates a large sphere just above the river. At least one of them gets it.

"That's because you're too forceful. Pure willpower won't bring you very far when it comes to waterbending." She steps beside him and takes a stance, then makes wide and gentle motions with her arms, demonstrating the move. "You need to listen to the water. Feel it. Sense it. Guide it."

Something in her heart stings as she performs the motions but gets no water to follow her command. She's still not used to the new situation and doubts that she ever will be. "It's not like fire where you just push your way through and stomp out everything else in the process." Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him turning his attention from her hands to her face.

"Fire isn't like that. It also has other sides, you know." He sounds offended at that.

She takes a deep breath. "Whatever." She needs to focus, not insult other elements. Even if fire deserves it. But maybe that is the problem - she judges too quickly, only wants to hear her own opinion. This is a flaw of her that she recognizes, and a fundamental one at that, but she can't quite bring herself to work on that just yet. They have more important things to do.

Like trying to teach a firebender waterbending. Oh spirits, this would get difficult.

"Here, just try to - no." She takes his hands in hers and brings them in the right position before drawing her own back to her like his skin just burned her. "And now remember - gentle, fluid motions. You have to be adaptable." She steps back and watches him form a small ball of water above the ground. He holds it there for a few seconds before the water crashes to the ground in a puddle.

"That was better. It's at least… something." She sighs. She doesn't want to talk to him as much as she apparently needs to but there's no other way around it. She would have to just push through. "And now follow my motions - Aang, you too." Katara steps to the edge of the stream and holds her hands out in front of her body before slowly drawing them back in and then out, lifting them higher in the air in the process. The other two follow and it hurts to see them make a wave successfully while she is powerless to command the element she once wielded so skillfully. It is just so unfair.

And she knows it's not Aang's fault. He didn't know what he was doing, still doesn't know. So far, the Avatar State seems to be the equivalent of a mental breakdown, just more powerful and destructive and who is she to blame a survivor of genocide for that? She wants to be angry at him, wants to yell at him, but she knows that she just can't. It wouldn't be fair.

Fair. She huffs at the thought. Nothing is fair. Not her people being forced to isolate themselves, not the people around her refusing to go along with the plan of the Water Tribes, not fire declaring itself superior over every other element. Not her losing her bending and being stuck with fire. But Aang is just as much a victim as she is, even if he refuses to come with her to her people. Even if he abandoned the world. But as she could gather, he didn't have much control over that either.

No. Blaming Aang would lead to nothing.

And so she sucks it up and tries to teach Aang and Zuko what she knows.

—

"You need to push it - no, not like that, more aggressive. Force it." He watches Katara produce a weak stream of flames who die out in only seconds. "Fire isn't like water. When you produce a flame, you need to do it with a purpose."

"With the purpose to kill," she mutters under her breath and tries again with the same result. Zuko pretends he didn't hear that. "You're too soft. Firebending is inherently aggressive - so when you bend it, you need to be as well." Trying to teach a waterbender how to control fire is like screaming at a tree and expecting the mangos to just drop to one's feet. He wants to pinch the bridge of his nose, pull at his hair in frustration. But he knows that doing that wouldn't be fair, after all, his own lesson in waterbending didn't go all that well either. Fire and water are just too different.

"Maybe it's because fire is something you create," Aang suggests after dousing his own steady stream of fire. At least he has success with one student. "You see, every other element is external. You guide it, rather than take full control over it. But fire - fire you create. It's internal. And that is something that I struggled with when you first started teaching me. So I guess Katara isn't holding up any different."

Zuko mulls that over in his head for a second and then nods. Aang is right, fire is inherently different from the other three elements. So of course a waterbender who is so used to just guiding her element would have a problem with forcing fire to do her bidding. He focuses his attention on Katara, whose blue eyes give away no emotion, even if he knows she would rather do anything else but this right now.

"When you create a flame, you take full control over it. And you have to, because otherwise it will get out of your control. Fire is alive. It breathes, it grows. It does what it wants unless it has someone to show it the way and that is what you have to do. Don't guide it but push it. When you move, it has to be with a purpose. When you shoot it, you have to have a goal in mind. When you create it, you have to know why. Don't see it as an external element. See it as a part of yourself because it is. It's an extension of your arms, rather than something separate."

Katara nods in understanding, even if she does it reluctantly, and tries again.

"Better." He watches with a twinge of jealousy as she produces stream after stream, even if any experienced firebender would call the fast dying flames pathetic.

Pathetic is something he knows. Pathetic is familiar. So long has he struggled with his own bending, has been called a failure, a weakling. A disgrace. A nothing. The words have been ingrained in his brain, chanted like a mantra, over and over again in moments of self-doubt, only to be joined by monster, ashmaker, fire-scum on his travels through the Earth Kingdom. Thus his bending has always been a sore spot.

He supposes he should be happy, now that he is rid of this burden. But then again, he has never seen his element as a burden. As sensitive as he is about his bending skills, fire itself has always comforted him. He always loved watching the flames dance and align themselves with the rhythm of his breathing, loved its gentle warmth. For every bad side, it has its good sides too, even if most days it's hard to convince himself of that.

But if even he can't bring himself to believe in the good of fire, how could he make someone else see it? Especially if that someone hates the element with all her passion?

A passion that rivals a firebender, he thinks with a light chuckle. For all that Katara claims to hate them, she sure acts like one.

"You should meditate." Katara shoots him an odd look, almost a glare. "It helps with your bending," he clarifies. And other things too but if he says that, he's sure the outcome won't be good for him. "And you should practice breathing."

Her brow furrows in confusion and she cocks her head to the side. "Are you suggesting that I don't know how to breathe? Last time I checked, I'm still alive."

Zuko holds his hands up in defense. "No, no. That's not how I meant it. But firebending comes from the breath, not the muscle. You can have all the muscle in the world but if you don't know how to breathe, you will never be a good firebender. That's all I'm saying."

"I can help you with that!" Aang saves him. "We can meditate together. I'm really good at that, you know."

Katara looks at Aang and just for a second, something flashes in her eyes but Zuko's not sure what. After a moment, she sighs and her shoulders drop. "Whatever. You guys stay here. I have things to do." With that, she turns but Zuko isn't done yet.

"What? You give up so soon? I would have expected more of you." She stops abruptly and he can see the muscles in her shoulders tense. If she still had her own bending, he would be worried about being drowned but as that is not the situation, he becomes a bit bolder than he usually would be.

Katara turns around, eyes narrowed in anger. "I don't - I have things to - I..." He watches her struggle with herself as she takes the bait. "Ugh. Fine. No, I'm not." She stomps up to him, comes nose to nose with him, closer than she has ever been in all those weeks. "You wish."

He smirks. Apparently, she has not yet realized how her own pride can be used against her. She is more similar to her new element than she wants to admit to herself.

—

"You need to trust us."

Katara opens her eyes. "Huh?"

"You need to trust us," Aang repeats, his eyes still closed. "But you don't. And with that, you make everything harder for yourself."

She cocks her head to the side. "I thought we were supposed to be meditating?" Her gaze roams around the wide grassy fields they're in at the moment, illuminated by the light of the early morning sun creating wide shadows. Over the past few days, she's noticed that she is barely able to sleep past sunrise. It's annoying and practical all the same.

"We were. But I can sense that you're not concentrating anyway." One eyebrow shoots up because she doesn't know how he should be able to notice that with his eyes closed, but she doesn't question it.

"I'm sorry for what happened," he says and the sincere honesty of his voice is reflected in the gray of his eyes as he opens them. "I really am. If I could go back and fix it, I would. If I could fix it now, I would. But I can't and that means that you have to adapt to this new situation. You know, just like water." He scratches the back of his neck. "You can be angry at me all you want. I deserve it. But you need to try to get a hold of fire. For yourself. Please." And there is so much begging in his eyes that she needs to avert her own.

"It's complicated." She sighs. "And no, I'm not angry at you. It's not your fault."

"Then what are you angry at?"

She shoots him a look. "Seriously? This whole situation." She gestures with her arm to the area around them. "Everything's a mess. I'm a firebender now. Do you know what that means? It means that I can never go home again. And it also means that I have to sit idly by while the prince of the Fire Nation does whatever he wants."

"So this is about Zuko?" Aang's face remains carefully expressionless.

"Of course it is about Zuko." She feels the rage swell up inside her. She's kept it in for so long, now she feels it coming over her like a tsunami. All she wants is to burn something and that fuels her anger even more because she is not meant to burn, she is meant to drown. "How can you just sit here and let him teach you? He killed your people! He killed mine!"

"He didn't do anything," Aang replies and it infuriates her because how can he be so calm? She doesn't want him to be calm, she wants someone to yell at. "His people did, yes. His family did, yes. But not him. People don't have to be defined by their family or nation. You don't have to be defined by them." His eyes seem to stare right through her. "People can change. He is doing the best he can; he is trying to make up for what the Fire Nation did."

"But that will never make it okay! He can't fix it, the Air Nomads won't just stand up again and live!" A rational part of her brain is glad that they're far away enough from the others so that they can't hear her yelling but the bigger part of her doesn't care. Let them hear her rage.

"I know. And I have two choices here: I can either let that anger and grief fester inside me and let it taint everything good, or I can let it go and learn to live with it. I chose the second option. And I know that I haven't perfected it yet, of course I'm still angry and part of me always will be. But I can start by forgiving the right people. And Zuko is one of those people."

Katara snorts at that. "Everything good? What good is there? The world is almost completely destroyed because of the Fire Nation, earthbenders are oppressed, Air Nomads dead and my people forced to hide in isolation. And you won't do anything about it!"

She regrets the words as soon as she says them but that doesn't help Aang. He looks at her with hurt in his eyes and for a moment, none of them speak, just let her words hang heavily in the air.

"So that is what you think? That I'm not trying to help the world?" He tries to disguise the pain in his voice but fails at that.

She sighs and lets her head drop. "No. I'm... look, I'm sorry. I know you're trying your best." She looks up again. "But please try to understand. If you would come back to the South Pole with me, we could put an end to this war."

"By another genocide you mean?"

"No, it wouldn't be-"

"Killing a whole people is genocide. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about, Katara," he cuts her off sharply and it's the most aggression she's ever heard from the peaceful monk. "And I do understand. You want your people safe. But what the Water Tribes plan to do is not the way to do it. I'm sorry."

"They wouldn't kill everyone. Just the guilty."

One eyebrow shoots up at that. "And who do you define as guilty? Every firebender? Everyone in the Fire Nation? Everyone in the Earth Colonies because they didn't fight harder?"

She opens her mouth to say something but no words will leave her mouth. She doesn't know. She doesn't know who she would define as guilty. Normal citizens of the Fire Nation? People living in the colonies who go along with Fire Nation rule or willingly make deals with them? Something doesn't seem right with that. But who would her people define as guilty? And who says they would stop at that?

Killing more people is never the answer. That makes us monsters too. Sokka's voice rings in her head. He called her a monster. She doesn't want to be a monster. Killing innocent people would certainly make her one. But again: who is guilty and who is not?

"Killing is never the answer," Aang continues. "Never. And I know you might think that is just some stupid Air Nomad philosophy, but it is my philosophy. I need to preserve their customs. I have a duty to them as the last airbender, I can't just throw that away."

"You also have a duty as the Avatar." Katara is relieved to find her voice again. "What if you have to choose between the two? Who will you pick?"

He doesn't say anything to that for a few seconds, just stares at her. Then: "I will not be used the way the Water Tribes would want to use me. I will make my own decisions. I am sorry, Katara, but that is final."

She looks away because his eyes seem to burn themselves into her head. And she understands him. After all, all her life she's had to fight against prejudice. All her life, she's had to prove herself to others. As long as she lived, she has wanted to make her own way in this world and not be defined by rules and what she should do. As a woman, as a warrior, as a princess.

But then again, she's also had to choose between what was expected of her and what she wanted to do. And her duty came first. Always. Or at least that is what she wants to believe. After all, she pushed Tulek to let her leave the South Pole. Hell, she pushed the whole tribe to let her learn bending for combat.

Now, she's not so sure anymore about what she should choose. Or rather, what to define as duty and what as personal want. And she's confused and it angers her because just a few weeks ago, her answer to that question would have been clear.

"I know that you're angry." His voice breaks her out of her thoughts. "I know that you're confused and scared and only want to do what is right. Trust me, I know that feeling all too well. But anger is not the answer. You're allowed to feel it, but you need to let it go and I also know that this is easier said than done. But you need to give it a try. For yourself and for Sokka and for everyone else here. Zuko comes from a complicated background but he is actively working on bettering himself. Now you need to do that, too."

And with that, he stands up and leaves her to her thoughts.

Notes:

Wanted to post sooner but went on vacation and had worse internet than I anticipated. Oh well, we're back on schedule now!

So, this is the big plot twist. I don't know, I find the idea kinda appealing. They're trying their best at coping, some succeeding more than others... oh well.

Chapter 9: Eight

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The Eastern Air Temple stands proud before them, sectioned on three different mountain peaks. If Aang thought the Southern Air Temple was big, this one is gigantic. White marble walls shine in the sun, even after a hundred years of abandonment, and what remains of the pointed rooftops glitters blue. Nature has taken the temple back with trees everywhere, growing through crumbled walls even at this altitude and vines hanging everywhere like a complex spider web. He can even make out a waterfall just behind one of the bridges that connect the three buildings to one another and would give everyone who isn't an airbender acrophobia.

Aang doesn't have to wonder long about whether the guru is really there or not because they find a man sitting on a raised wooden platform just before the main building, seeming to be deep in meditation. He immediately recognizes the way his fists are pressed together - the way the Air Nomad's always meditated to connect the chi paths with each other. Added to that the thin yellow tunic only covering half of his torso, even with the cold temperature and strong winds this high up, something like hope swells up in him. Airbenders can manipulate the air around them to not feel the cold. So if this guy could stand the cold weather up here and meditate in the typical Air Nomad way...

When Appa lands just before the platform, he wastes no time and immediately jumps off to rush to the old man. His long beard sways in the wind and his white bushy eyebrows create a stark contrast to the deep ebony of his skin, almost like Pai Sho tiles on a board. "Uh, hello?" He stops a few feet away from him.

The man slowly opens one eye, then the other, and Aang almost gasps at the dark gray shade. "Are you the guru that is supposed to wait for me here? We were at the Southern Air Temple and this ghost told us one would be here." Opening a conversation with 'a ghost told me' may not be the best way to start one, but he really doesn't care right now.

The man nods. "I am. I am Guru Pathik. And I presume you must be Avatar Aang?"

"I am."

"Good. I've waited long enough for you. About a hundred years to be exact."

Behind him, he can hear the others gasp. "A hundred years?" Toph asks. "Just how old are you?"

"Proud one-hundred and fifty years old, miss. Let me tell you, it takes time to grow a beard just like this." The man strokes his beard and winks. "And you don't get all these wrinkles for nothing."

"But how?" He can hear the disbelief in Sokka's voice.

"Oh, spirituality can do many things. Reaching old age is just one of them. And that is why I hope you are here, Avatar."

Aang nods. "I am. So you are the guru I was supposed to see just before... before I ran away?"

"I am. You seem to have taken your time. But time is nothing compared to the vastness of the universe. I am here to help you open your chakras." The glimmer of hope within Aang glows just a little brighter. Here before him is someone from his time, someone who knew the Air Nomads. Someone who...

"Are you an airbender?" He can't contain his curiosity any longer. Pathik must be one; he has achieved enlightenment, meditates in the way of the Air Nomads, is at one of the Air Temples, doesn't seem to mind the cold... Finally. He is not alone anymore. There are others like him, he is not the last. If Pathik is one, then maybe there are more and maybe-

"No."

And just like this, everything in him shatters.

"Though I am an Air Nomad." What?

"But that doesn't make sense. All Air Nomads were airbenders." Aang shakes his head in confusion and takes a step back. The hope in him has died out, like a flame in the wind, and left the familiar feeling of emptiness and disappointment. He truly is the last airbender. He's accepted this some time ago, but to get his hopes up all to have it destroyed within one second is just cruel.

Guru Pathik regards him for a moment, big gray eyes staring down at him from where he's still sitting with his legs crossed on the elevated wooden platform, before he slowly shakes his head. "No," he says, "no, boy. They weren't." This makes even less sense.

"But... but they told me - I don't understand." He can't quite keep his voice from shaking. The guru crooks his head a little at that. "Tell me, what exactly did they tell you at the Southern Temple about non-bending Air Nomads?"

"Well... nothing. All Air Nomads were benders because of their high spirituality. But you are obviously very spiritual so how are you...?" He trails off, not knowing how to finish his statement without being too rude to his potential teacher. Pathik shakes his head and looks down for a second, muttering something under his breath that sounds like 'I should have known'.

"Well," he says as he lifts his head again, "not all Air Nomads were benders. The majority were, yes, but not all."

"Then how come I've never seen them at the temple?"

"Because they obviously weren't built for non-airbenders. Just look around." He gestures to the buildings behind him. "No one without the ability to manipulate air would feel comfortable here." Aang hears muttered agreement from the others behind him.

"So they simply left the temples?" He furrows his brow.

"Yes, they did. You see, the way the Air Nomad's lived included a lot of bending. It was even required to move around your own home. We saw the way the other nations included their non-benders and wanted that too. So we moved there instead. But no, we did not abandon our culture," he adds before Aang can interrupt. "We kept it. Just outside of the temples. Although it did mix with the ways of living of the other nations. Just after Sozin's Comet, I spent a few years in the Earth Kingdom, for my own safety. Their culture sure is an interesting one."

"So that means that there are Air Nomads all over the world?" The tiny spark begins to glow brighter again. Benders or not, those were still his people.

"Yes. I suppose you can find most of them here in the Earth Kingdom. Gray eyes are often an indicator." Pathik points at his own eyes with one scrawny finger. "Most do hide their heritage though, I would guess. For obvious reasons." More surprised gasps behind him. The spark grows bigger. He is not the last. He may be the last airbender, but not the last Air Nomad. That alone is more than he could have ever dreamed of.

"But why were they never mentioned in the temples? Why did no one ever speak of them? Why did the monks tell me that every Air Nomad was a bender?"

At that, Pathik's face falls. He sighs. "Well. You see, airbending has a lot to do with spirituality. So those who could not airbend were seen as... less spiritual. In the eyes of the other airbenders, we were less. We were encouraged to take care of the bison and the children and to study philosophy but we could never participate in official ceremonies. And after all the non-benders left the temple over the years, they were simply forgotten. I do not believe that it was a conscious decision to keep you from this knowledge, Aang. The monks who taught you didn't know any better themselves. This all happened centuries ago."

Silence falls over them for a few moments. This is a lot to take in. The Air Nomads are alive and spread out all over the Earth Kingdom and not all Air Nomads were airbenders. He can't believe it.

"But they told me that you were waiting here for me a hundred years ago. They must have known you're not a bender. So why did they trust you with teaching me if you're seen as less?"

"Because few understand chakras and even fewer reach enlightenment by unlocking them. The monks were spiritual, yes, I will not deny that, but even they did not understand everything there is to know about the universe. It is also wise for the Avatar to be taught by teachers of different nations. When I came up here to offer my services, I introduced myself as a simple Earth Kingdom man because I am from the Earth Kingdom. The only thing I did not mention is my heritage."

"So you lied?"

"No. Not telling the whole truth is not lying."

"But you think the Air Nomads would have turned you down if you would have told them?"

"Yes."

But that is... the Air Nomads didn't turn anybody down just because of where they came from. They didn't discriminate. Gyatso always told him to be open-minded and to see all four nations as one.

"But Gyatso was different," Pathik tells him after Aang voices his concerns out loud. He perks up. "You knew Gyatso?"

"I met him during my travels, yes. Very nice. Very wise. Very open-minded."

"But all Air Nomads were open-minded." As much as he wants to talk more about Gyatso, it has to wait.

"No, they were not," Pathik says, shaking his head. "I can see how that might seem from someone's perspective living in one of the temples as an airbender, but the monks and nuns were not very understanding towards the other nations. They saw them as lesser, just like they did their non-benders. That did not show in open aggression but rather in ignorance and dismissal. Don't misunderstand me, the airbenders were a great and wise civilization - but they did have their flaws, just like everyone else, and one of their biggest was their inability to acknowledge them. They were proud."

The voice of the women he saw in his vision under the Banyan-grove tree in the swamp rings in his head. It's the bone-shattering realization that the Air Nomads were killed by the one thing they always prided themselves on not having: Pride.

It makes sense now. It all makes sense. Their dismissal of the dawning war despite the evidence, them forgetting about non-bending Air Nomads... The Air Nomads didn't need the other nations to recognize that their philosophy was the only one right, it would all become obvious the second one passed from the mortal realm into the spirit world.

The voice almost sounds mockingly in his head. For a moment, he forgets how to speak and swallows hard at this new realization that his people weren't as perfect as they always made themselves out to be.

"But one of our philosophies is to always help people in need. No matter who they are or who they're from." His voice is thinner than he'd like it to be and barely audible over the loud howling of the wind.

"And that is true," Pathik answers. "But helping does not always mean understanding. Have you ever wondered why they were called Air Nomads despite them living in temples?"

Aang shakes his head.

"Centuries ago, even before the non-benders broke off to go their own way, the Air Nomads traveled around the world to help whoever needed it. The temples did exist back then but they were more of a sacred place to hold celebrations and ceremonies. However, over time, they grew tired of the other nations continuing to fight and start wars, so they isolated themselves. Here, high up in the mountains, they could break themselves free of earthly tethers and concentrate on their own spiritual growth. The nomads settled down. Their philosophy was passed down over the centuries until today. Helping people still very much was a part of the Air Nomads, even if they didn't actively fly out to do it anymore. But you should not confuse helping people with understanding or even tolerating them long-term."

Aang can only stare at the man still sitting cross-legged on the ground before him. Part of him wants to scream. To deny everything, every accusation. To tell him that the Air Nomads were tolerant and open-minded people who did not forget a part of their own culture, of their own people. To get away from this man who supposedly wants to teach him about spirituality, to yell at him that he can't possibly expect him to trust him. Aang lived with his people for years, how could this man who spent most of his time in the Earth Kingdom possibly claim to understand his own people better than him? But another part of him, the more rational one, tells him that all this is true. That all this makes sense. And it does. The genocide, why they didn't do anything about it even with all the rumors in the Fire Nation; Pathik's existence and heritage; the woman in the vision he's had in the swamp.

The Air Nomads were not the people he thought them to be.

"Now," Pathik interrupts his thoughts and finally stands up. "I know this is a lot to take in." He puts a hand on his shoulder. "I will give you time. But when you are ready, come find me. I believe it is about time for you to learn about chakras."

—

"You think there are any ghosts here, too?"

Sokka looks up from his dagger and right into Toph's milky eyes. He shrugs. "Maybe. I'm not too keen on finding out, though."

She nods in understanding from where she's sitting on a stone not too far from him. "Yeah, me too. As cool as it was to actually meet one, not being able to feel the vibrations was... creepy. I like being able to locate everyone by their feet. Or their sound. Especially you, Snoozles." She flicks a pebble at him.

"Hey! I don't snore that loud!" he protests while Momo catches the pebble out of the air.

"Of course you'd say that, you never hear yourself. I'm sure that Sugar Queen would agree with me."

He snorts. "Katara would say a lot of things."

Toph perks up at that and crooks her head. "Now what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "All this time and you still make this mistake."

Ah, of course. The human lie detector. "It's just... we had a fight. In the swamp," he says, putting his dagger and sharpening stone away. He would need to go hunting later; Pathik's onion-banana juice isn't exactly nutritious or appetizing.

"So I've noticed."

"And it got pretty nasty and personal. I didn't want to be so mean but it was... necessary. She needs to see that the Water Tribes are wrong. That there is another way. And now she is stuck as a firebender and I want to comfort her, she's my sister. I want to tell her that everything is okay but if I would approach her now, she'd push me away. Katara has her walls up and she lets no one in. It's a problem."

"And you feel like your relationship is now destroyed?"

"No, I... maybe. I don't know. I hope not. She's the only family I have left," he admits. It's strange, talking with Toph of all people about this, but it helps.

She leans forward a bit. "So your parents are dead?" The look on her face is carefully empty of any emotion. He nods before reminding himself that she can't see that, scratching the side of his head. He still has to get used to having hair there.

"Yeah, they are. My dad died three years ago when I was seventeen. We were on the way to the North Pole for the New Moon Celebration. It's a Water Tribe thing," he adds at Toph's confused expression. "We were attacked by the Fire Nation. My dad and most of the crew, they... they didn't make it." He swallows hard, recalling the day that still haunts his nightmares. "I barely got out of there alive. When we came back to everyone at the South Pole it was... it was horrible."

He can see the pictures before his inner eye like it was yesterday. Telling the tribe what happened, Bato's desperate attempt to keep it together, Sokka's own determination to be strong, for his tribe, for his sister. Katara's expression. Her tears, her screams. His own pain. The realization that they were now alone.

"And your mother?" Toph's voice is quiet, almost like she doesn't want to disturb his thoughts.

"She died a few years before that, when I was twelve. She was taken by a spirit." His own voice is thin and shaking.

Silence falls over them. "I'm sorry," Toph says finally. "That must have been hard."

"Yeah, we... I don't think we'll ever really get over it. But that's okay, I guess. You can learn how to live with scars. It's just that Katara always defined herself by her bending and that our mother always encouraged her to pursue it even if she wasn't allowed to use it for fighting. I mean she was, eventually, but that wasn't so easy either. And now that she lost that... I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it better because there is nothing that can make it better. The only thing she can do is to accept it but Katara is stubborn."

"Oh yeah."

"And I'm afraid she's going to fall into this hole that she can't come out of. Right after our mother died, she put herself in her place. She stepped up and she took on so many responsibilities. She held us together, Dad and me. Gran-Gran was gone. I don't think I've ever really thanked her for that. And then after Dad didn't come back home, she concentrated on her bending. It was such an important piece of her identity. I know she is strong but this is different. I'm not sure she is ever going to get over this."

Toph nods thoughtfully. "Bending is like a part of yourself," she says slowly. "My parents forced me to suppress it. Said I had to act like a lady and not an 'unruly gremlin'. It was horrible. And I'm not sure how I would feel if I'd suddenly be an airbender. I'm just glad I wasn't up there with Twinkletoes at the Southern Temple."

"Do you miss your parents?" Sokka asks after a few moments of thoughtful silence.

She visibly stiffens and takes her time answering. "Maybe. Sometimes. Rarely." She shrugs and there is a forced casualness in her voice. "They were jerks. Kept me away from the outside world. If I would have stayed there, I would have been married off to some rich idiot and locked away forever. Running away was the best thing I've ever done."

Sokka nods at that. Running away is something he understands.

Toph jumps off her stone and stretches her arms. "Hey, as fun as it was to discuss our dramatic childhood trauma, I've gotta-"

Before she can finish her sentence, a bloodcurdling scream pierces through both their ears. Katara.

In a matter of seconds, they're running through the temple, following the sound of pained whimpers and another distressed voice. They round the corner and find Zuko and Katara standing in a half-destroyed hall, the latter clutching her hands against her stomach and doubling over in pain.

"Katara!" Sokka is by her side in seconds. "What happened?"

"She burned her hands," Zuko explains, running a hand through his hair. "I've told you to-" he cuts himself off and tries to grab her arm. "Katara, are you okay?"

She rips her arm out of his grip and takes a few steps away from him. "Get away from me!"

Sokka directs his gaze at him and narrows his eyes. "Did you do something to her?" He doesn't actually think that the other man has any violent tendencies toward her, but she is still his sister.

"No!" Zuko's eyes are wide and pleading. "No, of course not, I would never!"

"He's telling the truth," Toph interjects. Sokka nods and then directs his attention toward Katara again, who is still clutching her hands and trying to keep her sobs to a minimum. "Can you let me look at that?" He has exactly zero clues about anything related to medicine and healing but he wants to offer at least some comfort. In the back of his mind, he registers that Katara is the only one of them who knows how to treat wounds but her healing abilities are no longer an option.

"No!" She turns her back to him. "Just leave me alone."

"I know how to treat burn wounds," Zuko offers. "I think I can-"

"What do you not understand about 'Get away from me'?" She still won't meet their eyes.

"Or how about Aang? You tried to teach him how to heal, right? Maybe he can-"

"Just go!"

"Katara," Sokka interjects. "We're trying to help you here. You need to let someone look at that."

"I don't need anyone to look at it!" She whirls around, eyes puffy and face red. "I just want to be alone! Don't follow me!" With that, she takes off in the opposite direction.

—

"Do it."

Hama's voice rings in her ears like the bells they use at home to inform the people of a death in the Chieftains family, sounding loudly and far too high pitched for her liking, piercing through her eardrums and slipping into her head, pounding in time with her heartbeat.

"Do it."

She can sense the fluids in the man's body before her, can feel them pumping through his veins, can manipulate them, can control them. She is in control. She is the powerful one here.

The light of the full moon shines down upon them, illuminating the icy tundra in a mysterious light, making the snow glisten. She can feel the power running through her veins, can feel the moon call out to her, commanding her to bend, commanding her to obey its call. Push and pull, push and pull, push and pull...

But blood is not like water. Blood fights, blood pushes back. Blood isn't guided, it's forced. And it's warm and hot and sticky and-

"Katara." Hama. "Do. It. Kill him."

She looks at the man before her. Bright golden eyes stare up at her, widened in horror - should eyes ever be that wide? It seems unnatural to her. His mouth hangs open, begging, a silent scream, an empty plea, because she seized control over his muscles there, not allowing him to get a single word out. His arms are bent at unnatural angles, his feet can't support his body any longer but she forces him to stay like that, rooted on the spot. It must be painful. So very, very painful.

But not for her. She can feel just how powerful she is, the powers of the moon and the night and the ocean spirits aiding her, and only her. It feels good, too good to be true, no human should ever feel this good; this happiness is unnatural. But it's not happiness is it? Happiness is not happiness when it is taken by force, taken from another. No, then it becomes something else, something sick, something forbidden.

Something wrong.

What she is doing is wrong. So very wrong.

She averts her eyes from the man, not standing to see the pure panic in them any longer, the fear, the fear of her, and instead looks at Hama.

(Master.)

But her master doesn't seem to care about the silent pleading in her eyes, her silent admission at being weak and too soft. There's something dangerous in her own eyes, the blue as sharp as the ice daggers she could summon with one finger and pierce through her heart. And not for the first time, she wonders just how far Hama would go to make her submit, to make her do what she wants her to do. To teach her everything she knows. Everything.

"Kill him."

Her voice is quieter now, almost too faint to hear, but she does it nonetheless, and it has, if that's even possible, become even more deadly and sharp than before. More commanding.

And she understands. This is not a democracy. She might have all the power now, she might dominate this man in front of her, holding him by his very life essence, but the one truly in command is Hama. And she has no choice but to submit. Or else.

So she forces herself to meet his gaze again and thinks, just for a moment, how bright those golden eyes shine, how out of place they look in this place of eternal night and ice. They almost look like twin stars. But every star dies one day.

Maybe he has a family. He sure has one, everyone does. Does he have a sister? A brother? Or kids? A wife? What are his parents like? Did they also scold him when he made sarcastic remarks or stole... whatever counts as dessert in the Fire Nation? What are his hobbies? She doesn't know what Fire Nation people do for fun, except set things aflame and destroy lives, but they have to do something to pass the time. No one can only fight and kill. Not even Fire Nation soldiers. They're only humans after all. Same as her.

What does he think of her homeland? Of course he came here to destroy it but what does he think it looks like? Is he in awe of the giant icebergs and the endless expanse of the snowy tundra? Does he look at the sky and is amazed by the thick flocks falling from it? Or is he intimidated by the deadly blizzards and freezing ocean waters?

She pushes all that aside. Her master commanded her and so she must obey. She forces the guilt that threatens to burn her from the inside out - hah, the irony - down, along with the shame and the disgust and does what she has to do - she takes control of his heart, feels it pump in quick, unnatural rhythms, shallow but still strong, concentrates on only that.

And then she squeezes.

She wakes with a gasp, quickly trying to orientate herself. She's at the Eastern Air Temple. Sokka and the others are all scattered around the room in their bedrolls, deep in sleep, and-

Golden eyes.

She backs away and barely holds in a scream. It's just Zuko. Only Zuko. And that was just a stupid dream.

(She knows that it was not just a dream.)

She can't go back to sleep. Not now, perhaps not ever. Before Zuko can say anything, Katara climbs out of her bedroll and stands up, heading for - she doesn't know where. She only knows that she has to get away, from him and his stupid golden eyes, from the others, from this room. Air, she needs air.

She comes to a stop outside of the temple on a cliff. The night is dark, the sky obscured by clouds hiding the moon and the stars. It's probably stupid to go wandering about in the dark with no light to guide her - she will not firebend - especially this high up where one wrong step could mean certain death - but she doesn't care. She's almost grateful for the moon's absence. She doesn't want it to remind her of that night.

Katara sits down and lets her legs dangle over the cliffside, taking in the sharp air. The winds up here never seem to cease and the temperatures are cool at best, soothing the burned skin of her hands. It reminds her a bit of home.

Except that she doesn't want to think about home right now. She doesn't want to think about that night, or how much power she felt from controlling another one's body or how much pleasure she would get out of it in the years to come.

Hama had succeeded. She had turned Katara into her. She had made her enjoy killing.

She had surpassed Hama in bloodbending. Had gotten better at killing than even her, not needing the full moon for it.

Maybe Sokka is right. Maybe she really is a monster.

She wants to cry. She wants to scream. But instead, she can only sit there and stare into the abyss. If one stares long enough into the abyss, it stares back. But that has already happened so she doesn't have to worry about that anymore. Only about the consequences and what that means for her.

Maybe she should be grateful. Grateful to Aang, grateful to whatever spirits turned her into a firebender. Because now she doesn't have the power to make another body her puppet. Now she can't kill people by squeezing their hearts or popping veins in their heads. Now she can't make them look at her like she is a demon. Now she can't be a puppet master.

Not anymore.

Oh, what a sick and twisted irony it is.

If Hama could see her now, she would laugh at her and how pathetic she's become. How weak and soft she is. And then she would probably kill her because she is fire-scum, and destroy all her hard work to be cold and controlled and do whatever had to be done, to ignore her own feelings.

But she doesn't want to be like Hama. So maybe it's a good thing that she would call her pathetic. Maybe it's a good thing that she's weak and soft.

I don't want to be a monster, Sokka.

"Hey." She startles at the voice coming from behind her but is too stiff to turn to its source. There's shuffling beside her and then she can feel someone sitting down next to her. "Nightmare?"

She doesn't answer for a long moment. She doesn't want to talk about her feelings with him. She wants to be alone, wants him to go away, wants the whole world to just go away and leave her alone and-

She doesn't want to be alone.

And so she answers. "Yes."

"You want to talk about it?" Zuko's voice is quiet, thoughtful, careful. And Katara realizes that yes, she wants to talk about it, she needs to get this off her chest, out of her system, needs to share this with someone, anyone, because she has never talked about this and feels like she will explode if she doesn't.

(She will.)

So she starts talking, even though she's still not sure what she's doing, if this is smart, if this is wise, but all she knows is that it hurts and that she's thinking too much and if she thinks any more she'll be tempted to throw herself into the abyss before her.

(Selfish.)

"It was three years ago. I was fifteen." Despite her emotional state, her voice is strong and doesn't waver. "My waterbending master made me do some pretty terrible things. She made me kill someone." She swallows because now it's out and she can't take it back. "I didn't want to. But I had to. Otherwise, I'm not sure what she would have done to me," she says with the image of the glint in Hama's eyes in front of her. She remembers the way she didn't want to kill someone, even if he was a Fire Nation soldier, even if he was sent to kill her and everyone she loves, because she was fifteen and no one should have to kill at fifteen.

But she did. Forced or not, she still took someone's life. And as sick and disgusting and disturbing as it was, she also felt something else that night: what true power meant. And she went on to abuse that power, to use it to kill, protect, save. At that time, she was sure she knew where the line between senseless violence and the need to protect her tribe was. Now she is not so sure anymore and feels like she crossed it more often than not.

What justifies violence and what does not?

She is reminded of her talk with Aang a few days ago. Who is guilty and who is not?

She doesn't know the answer to either of these questions. And she thought she did, all her life. But maybe she never did know and only pretended to, to make herself feel better.

"I was fourteen when I first killed," Zuko rasps next to her after a few long moments of silence. "I snuck out of the palace at night because I'd had a fight with my sister that day and I just needed to get out. I ran around the city and into some thugs. I didn't mean to do it, but I had to. It was my only option."

Heavy silence falls over them again, covering them with its invisible cloak and she is glad for the darkness so that she doesn't have to see his eyes that are so similar, just a few shades paler, to the ones whose light she had puffed out in such a brutal and inhuman way.

"I couldn't sleep for two days after that. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw their bodies before me and I just... couldn't. I did my best to hide what happened from my sister and father; if they had known, they would have laughed at how soft I was."

"Maybe being soft is a good thing," she whispers and one part of her brain registers that this is the most civil conversation they've ever had. Neither of them is screaming - really, it's only her that does the yelling - or making sarcastic and snarky remarks and neither is being insulting. Although, she has to admit, she is the one that throws insults around like it's open season.

She should probably laugh at the situation. Here she is sitting with Zuko of all people and talking about one of the most traumatic events of her life. Just a week ago, she would have pushed him off the cliff. A month ago, she would have drowned him with his own spit.

She shouldn't be this weak. She should pull herself together, get a grip on her emotions and continue what has to be done because she is Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, waterbending master and bloodbender.

Only that she isn't. Not anymore. And she also doesn't know what exactly it is that has to be done because, apparently, she has never known.

Now she is Katara. Just Katara.

And she is so tired of being strong all the time and holding her emotions back and forcing herself to do things she doesn't want to do; things she only thinks she wants to do. Not being like Hama is good. Maybe she doesn't have to be strong all the time, maybe she can let herself be vulnerable, just this once, even if it is with him of all people.

Maybe this is a chance.

"Maybe. But it never gets easier," he says. "You feel it every time you do it and you ask yourself if you could have done better and the answer is always yes, no matter the situation."

Katara winces.

It did get easier. Over time. They'd bring captured soldiers in for interrogation and then she would kill them. Every single one of them. At first, she was disgusted. Then she tried her best to turn her feelings off. Then she succeeded and simply did what had to be done, forcing herself not to dwell on it, becoming numb to the violence like exposed skin in a blizzard.

"And what if it does?" She's not even sure he can hear her but she continues regardless. "What if it does get easier? What does that make us?"

He doesn't speak for a long time. She doesn't know how long, she only keeps her eyes trained in front of her, staring into the darkness and expecting it to stare back, afraid of his answer. No, she tells herself, she does not care what he thinks of her now. She doesn't.

Then: "I think that makes us people who need to learn. We don't know any better and we're forced into this situation; we don't know any way out so we do what is expected of us, the only thing that we can do. But that doesn't mean we're irredeemable."

And maybe his words shouldn't give her as much hope as they do but she doesn't care. Maybe there is a way back from all of this. Maybe she doesn't have to be a monster forever. She doesn't know how he does it but Zuko always knows exactly what she is thinking about, he did in the swamp, at the stream, here. And she hated it back then but she doesn't now. Now she appreciates his honesty and how he doesn't press her or judge her, how he only shares his own experiences and offers advice, not on a judgmental basis, but on a helpful one.

For that, she is truly grateful.

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you today," she offers, finally turning her gaze to him, even if she can only see the faint outline of his silhouette in the dark. "It wasn't your fault."

He shrugs. "It's no problem. How are your hands?"

Katara looks down at the hands in her lap, sees the white of the bandages tightly wrapped around both of them. "Better. It still hurts, but not as much."

"There should be villages on the coast of the mainland. Aang seems to be needing a few days for all this chakra stuff so maybe we can take Appa and head over there for some medicine and see that nothing gets infected."

"Yeah, we could do that." She rubs her thumb over the bandaged back of her hand and keeps herself from hissing at the sting.

"I'm sorry I can't heal you," Zuko says into the night after a few quiet seconds and his voice sounds full of shame and regret.

"It's not your fault," she assures because it isn't. Healing doesn't come to every waterbender, especially not to someone who bent fire his entire life until recently. "Aang can't do it either." She tried teaching him, really tried, but the Avatar just doesn't seem to get the hang of it. But she can't feel disappointed in him because if she had to choose, she would choose her bending over her healing abilities any day. And over the years she's come to hate the sexism associated with healing.

"Still. If I could, you-"

"Zuko," she cuts him off. "It's fine, really. I'll be fine. A few scars are nothing. And I don't blame you." She can see him nod after a few seconds of mulling it over in his head.

"You should probably not bend until your hands are better. Just to be safe."

"Got it."

"And cool water does wonders to relieve the pain. Even if you probably already know that. And-"

"Zuko," she interrupts him again. "I'm fine. Stop worrying." Some distant part of her brain commands her to snap at him and tell him that she can take care of herself just fine - what is he doing here in the first place, why does he always feel the need to go after her when she wants to be alone, what kind of sick obsession is this, does he truly think she's that pathetic? - but she pushes the urge away. She's too tired for any fights tonight and she knows that wouldn't be fair either.

"Sorry," he mutters and clears his throat. They stare into the darkness together.

"Zuko?" she says after a moment and she'd be lying if she'd say the next words were easy to tell him, even if they probably should be.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

Notes:

Ohh, is that progress that I see here? 👀

Trauma bonding at its finest.

And yes, the whole airbender lore is a result of me spending way too much time on tumblr, It's a fun little 'what-if' game. Well, fun for me anyway. For Aang? Not so much...

Chapter 10: Nine

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Before you can bring balance to the world, you must gain it within yourself." Pathik comes to a stop before several small pools. "To do that, and to archive the Avatar State, you must clear all your chakras." He turns to look at Aang. "Do you know what chakras are?"

Aang thinks. The monks only mentioned them briefly, always telling him that unlocking all the chakras was something very difficult to do but necessary for him as the Avatar. "Well, I know that it has something to do with energy."

The guru before him nods thoughtfully and then turns again. "Do you see the pools here?" Even in the dim light of the cave, he can see them clearly. "There are seven pools for seven chakras. Right now, they are clogged. This is the case for most humans, and the degree as to how clogged they are and what chakras specifically, varies from human to human."

Pathik bends down to take a stick in his hand. "But if you clear the blockages" - he pokes at a lilypad with his stick and pushes it aside - "the water can flow freely." And indeed, the water from the first pool now flows freely into the second and then the third and all the other pools, washing away all the stray plants and dirt swimming on the surface. "There is energy in every living being. It is our very core." Aang thinks back to the swamp and the raw energy he could feel there and nods in agreement.

"There are spots in our body where the energy gathers. These are chakras."

"So chakras are spiraling pools of energy in our body?" he asks.

Pathik nods. "Exactly. Each of the chakras can get blocked by different things. Guilt, anxiety. Overindulgence in onion-banana juice," he adds with a smile and Aang has to force himself to not grimace in disgust. "Every chakra has a purpose. Opening them is very intense and can take years." Well, he supposes he has years but he'd like to do it a bit faster than that. "Once you start the process, you cannot stop without suffering the consequences."

"What kind of consequences?"

Pathik shrugs. "I don't know. I didn't stop." Oh. Great. How reassuring.

"You have to know, clearing all your chakras will not make you perfect - whatever your idea of perfect is. You will still feel fear and guilt and all those feelings - the difference is that you'll be able to deal with them better and let them go easier. If you're not careful, they can also become clogged again. So - are you ready to open all your chakras, Avatar?"

Aang swallows. Is he? He doesn't know. He doesn't feel ready but he also doesn't feel not ready. But maybe there is no specific time when he will feel ready, maybe he just has to pull himself together and do it.

He blinks, then nods, still more hesitant than he'd like to be. "I am."

—

"The first chakra is located at the base of the spine and deals with survival. It's called the Earth Chakra and is blocked by fear." Ah, now he sees why they're sitting in a cave with barely any light to see, and his seismic sense is still 'as hopeless as Snoozles is with eating vegetables', according to Toph, so that is of no help either.

"What are you afraid of?"

He closes his eyes and tries to concentrate. Good question. What is he afraid of?

He's afraid of many things. He's afraid he's not a good enough Avatar. He is afraid harm will come to his friends. He is afraid of hurting the ones he loves. He is afraid of the Fire Lord taking over the world and destroying every culture that is not his own.

"Allow yourself to feel your fears. Indulge them."

Aang imagines people telling him what they think of him as an Avatar. Accusing him of leaving the world behind, calling him a disgrace to the line of all previous Avatars. Sokka telling him that many have lost hope in him. He thinks about all the occasions his friends have been hurt so far; Sokka in their fight in that alley in Gaoling, limping with scratches all over his arms and face. Katara on that beach, barely hanging on to life with that big wound on her stomach. Toph in the swamp with a destroyed leg, Katara unconscious in that hut.

He recalls the Southern Air Temple, how he'd gone into the Avatar State, how he'd lost control. How he hurt Katara and Zuko. He imagines what he could have done to them, had he not gotten out of the Avatar State in time. Imagines broken bodies lying on the ground, coated in blood, eyes wide open and unmoving in an eternal stare.

And then he thinks about the Fire Lord. Thinks about how he would burn this world to ash if he could, how he oppresses everyone that is not Fire Nation, how he kills and tortures and destroys without a second thought. He recalls the images of his vision in the swamp, how firebenders slaughtered every last Air Nomad, and how they would do that to everyone else without even blinking. He imagines a world he cannot save. A world where the Fire Lord wins and they lose. A world in flames, a world of pain and horror.

He hears Sokka's voice in his head, hears how the Water Tribes would use him. He doesn't want to be used. He doesn't want to be a weapon.

His breathing gets shallow and fast, he can feel the world spinning around him, even with closed eyes. His nails press into the palms of his hands, leaving crescent-shaped marks. He can't breathe, and he wants to cry and scream and run away and curl himself into a ball in a corner and pretend he doesn't exist, and there's this feeling of eternal doom growing within him, like nothing is ever going to be okay, not ever, and he will never feel happy again and then it threatens to consume him, burn him from the inside out, and he has no choice but to surrender to these flames, hot tears prickling in the corner of his eyes and on his cheeks and he's shaking and-

"And then let them go. They cannot touch you. They cannot hurt you. Acknowledge their existence but allow yourself to let go of them, to let them flow away and leave a clear path in their wake."

Aang forces himself to steady his breathing and relax his posture. He has to let go. He has to let go. He has to let go.

One deep breath in. One deep breath out.

Let go.

A world in ashes is a possibility. But he will fight against it with every single fiber of his being. He will not let that happen. He will not give up. He will survive.

Yes, Sokka got hurt in that alley. But he is okay now and without scars. Katara healed herself and is fine now. In the swamp, she was found and got help, same as Toph. They are okay now. They are chattering and bickering and practicing somewhere up there in that temple and they are safe here. They are safe.

He will not lose control again. He is here now, isn't he? Trying to open his chakras, trying to master the Avatar State, trying to learn more about his spirituality. Yes, he made mistakes. But he is learning from them. He will do better.

He will not be used as a weapon. Not by anyone. His friends, especially Sokka, are seeing to that. They are protecting him. With them, he is safe.

Let go.

Doubts crawl to the front of his mind, slowly but surely. But that is okay. It is okay to feel doubtful. It is okay to not be perfect. He just has to not let them take charge.

Let go.

And so he does.

—

The sky is gray and occasional raindrops fall down from the thick clouds when Appa lands just far enough away from a coastal village. As soon as Katara's feet hit the muddy ground, she holds up both of her hands with her palms up to catch the raindrops and feel them on her bare arms.

"Sweetness, I'm not sure what exactly you are doing but it feels weird," Toph tells her when she climbs down from the giant bison.

"I've never actually seen rain before," Katara explains just before opening her mouth to catch the water on her tongue.

"Wait - never?" The earthbender shoots her a strange look.

"Nope. Never." She shakes her head.

"Because it doesn't rain at the South Pole, right?" Zuko asks while petting Appa. "It's too cold there for that."

She looks at him for a second before directing her gaze at the sky again. "Yeah." She doesn't know what it is but ever since last night, when he helped her calm down about her nightmare, something has shifted in their relationship. She doesn't feel as aggressive toward him anymore, not as violent. When she sees him, she doesn't want to water-whip him into Koh's lair anymore. Not that she could anyway, but it's the thought that counts.

Surprisingly, she doesn't regret last night; doesn't regret opening up about one of her most traumatic memories, one of her fears. Not even Sokka knows what Hama made her do that night and he certainly knows enough about her ability to bloodbend. But maybe it is because Zuko is someone who she doesn't care about what he thinks of her. He has no right to judge her; his opinion of her won't influence her in the least.

Sokka knows her like no one else does. He is her brother, that is only natural. But it is also because of that that she wants to keep up some semblance of normalcy and not completely destroy the picture he has of her. She knows they have a lot of problems in their relationship right now and he already does have some opinions about her. But the truth is, he was away for most of the time, scouting the Earth Kingdom, and asleep when she was brought to the interrogation cells. She's not sure how much he knows and what particular aspects he is aware of, but he hasn't seen the worst of her. Not by a long shot. Talking to him is just so much more complicated than talking to a stranger or companion or fellow-victim-of-bending-swap. Or whatever it is that she and Zuko are. Certainly not friends. She's not sure she would call anyone in the group her friend.

Toph is honest and funny, if not a little rude at times. But Katara enjoys her sassy remarks, her blunt behavior. She doesn't have to guess with her, even if her ability to detect lies is a little annoying at times. Aang is sweet and kind, an optimist. He has so much weight on his shoulders, so much responsibility. There's a whole world waiting for him to save it and when she looks at him, she wants to hug him. He looks so genuinely guilty about what happened at the Southern Air Temple that she just can't be mad at him, he had no control over it after all. At the same time, she also wants to yell at him and shake him and talk some sense into him. If he would have just come with her to the Southern Water Tribe all these weeks ago... but then again, that is a whole other can of Koh's eggs that she doesn't want to open. Her feelings about the Water Tribes are complicated.

And Zuko... Zuko is Zuko. Her feelings for him are just as conflicted as her opinion on the Water Tribes. He is the Fire Prince, the enemy. He is annoying and self-righteous and just an asshole all around. But he also helps her with the chores - that she automatically took charge of, if there is one thing she hates, it's poor hygiene and chaos - which is nice because no one else does, he actually tries to get her to understand the chore of firebending and he seems to have a knack for finding her when she wants to be alone. Which would be annoying but the last two times he did that, it was out of genuine compassion. Or so she thinks, for all she knows, he might be developing some evil masterplan to get them all caught by the Fire Nation.

But that seems unlikely. From what she's heard, he got disowned by his family and exiled and has been wandering the Earth Kingdom since then. When they've spotted Fire Nation troops in the villages they briefly visited to buy supplies and food, he has always turned his head to hide his scar better. They've been traveling for a little over a month, the other's even longer than her - if he really would want to harm Aang, he would have turned him in by now.

And last night, he was actually understanding. He didn't judge her, didn't call her a monster, only offered his genuine advice on top of sharing a traumatic memory of his own. If she would have been in his position, she doesn't think she would have done that for someone who only yelled at her and generally disliked her. But he did. She doesn't know why but he did and it felt good. Still does actually.

It had been good to finally talk about it, to attempt to process it. Admittedly, her coping mechanisms aren't the best - if they exist at all. She trains and cleans and sews and cooks and does all the little things that no one wants to do in an attempt to distract herself from the dark thoughts that are always lurking in some rotten corner of her mind, waiting for their chance to creep up on her. It's what she did after her mother died, it's what she did after her father died. It's what she did after Hama. And she wants to talk to people about it, she really does. She knows that is probably the healthier way of coping with things. But when she opens her mouth, either nothing comes out or everything at once. And that can also have its consequences so she rarely talks about the things that keep her up at night. It also doesn't help that originating from that same rotten corner, there is also always a voice telling her that others have it worse than her, that she shouldn't complain, that complaining never gets you anywhere. Of course she knows that everyone has a right to complain about genuine problems but that is easier said than done.

So often enough, she ends up all alone with her dark thoughts and no one even knows about it.

Opening up last night felt good. So what? That doesn't mean she'll end up walking around talking about her problems all day long. And that certainly doesn't mean she's now friends with one particular prince. That only means she'll tolerate him better. Maybe. On her good days. If she feels like it.

"You're not missing out on anything," Toph huffs. Katara begs to differ but then again, Toph is an earthbender.

"Wait until you hear about the polar nights and days." Another thing she is still working on getting used to: the regular setting and rising of the sun.

"It's not like I'd be able to tell the difference anyway." Fair enough.

The walk to the village is tedious. The ground is muddy from previous rain and having wet mud sticking to your boots is not a very joyful experience (except if you're a handful of feet of sarcasm and dark hair). That gets balanced by the rain though, with only Katara enjoying the feeling of water droplets on her skin, even if she can't actually sense them anymore. Her true element falling from the sky in its pure form is wonderful. Only Zuko is left out but that doesn't particularly bother her because his idea of fun would probably involve hellfires slowly roasting them alive and that doesn't seem very relaxing to her.

The one thing they have in common, though, is their hate for walking through a wet, slippery forest with roots embedded in the ground everywhere. They all struggle not to slip but don't bother holding in their laugh when Zuko actually does.

When they eventually reach the village, the sky has cleared a bit but the sun is still nowhere to be seen. People are bustling about, either at the small marketplace or even smaller port. As soon as they come close enough to the vendors, Toph leaves them with a "Goodbye, grandma's!" and wanders off on her own, leaving Zuko and Katara to stare after her. They figure that she can't do too much damage, it's Zuko who has all the money and the village is too small to get lost in.

After a few minutes they find a vendor who sells herbs and medicine and buy some ointment that Katara has never heard of but Zuko swears helps with burns. When they exchange money, she can't help but notice the young girl's gaze wandering to Katara's eyes. "What?" she asks and narrows her eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no!" the girl hastily proclaims. "It's just... your eyes are blue."

She raises an eyebrow. "And?"

"Well, the last time I've seen blue eyes, they were from a Water Tribe soldier. And because the tribes are so closed off, we don't actually get to see a lot of them." She kneads her fingers nervously. "I just think they're pretty."

But Katara overhears the compliment. "Water Tribe soldiers?" Beside her, she can feel Zuko stiffen.

"Yeah, they came here a few weeks ago. We're not that far from the South Pole if you consider the size of the Earth Kingdom but it's still a long way." The girl shrugs.

"And do you know why they were here?" Only a second after she's said it, she notices the agitation in her voice. If positive or negative, she doesn't know.

"Well, they said they were looking for a Water Tribe prince. And a princess. Wanted to know if we've seen someone from the Water Tribes lately. You know, the brown skin and blue eyes. You actually look like you could be Water Tribe."

Katara freezes. Water Tribe soldiers. Here. Just a few weeks ago. Her own people. Looking for her and Sokka. Maybe she could ask where they went, in what direction, maybe she could-

"Min!" An older woman comes up behind the young girl. "How many times did I tell you not to babble with customers? They don't have all day! And you don't either!" She puts her hands on the girl's shoulders and shoves her in another direction. "Go back to the house and watch your brother, I'll take over since you seem to be in need of a chatting partner."

They watch the girl - Min - leave before the woman turns their attention to them. "I'm terribly sorry, my daughter has the habit of gossiping with just about everything that has two legs."

"It's no problem," Katara hastily assures. "She mentioned something about Water Tribe soldiers here?"

The woman seizes them both up and then narrows her eyes. "You're not from here, are you?"

"No, we're-" Zuko starts but gets cut off.

"No, I mean you're not from here."

No, they certainly are not. "My ancestors were from the South Pole," Katara lies after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. And, technically, it's not even a lie - her ancestors are from the South Pole. She just doesn't feel the need to mention that she is as well. And why that is, she doesn't know. She should tell this woman who she really is so that she could maybe help her find her tribe's soldiers. But does she really want that?

Aang told her more than once that he would not willingly go to the Water Tribes. Taking him by force when he is the Avatar and protected by three other people is not an option, except if she'd show up with an army. A Water Tribe army to be specific. But lately, she's been a little confused if that would really be the best option. And she can't go back alone - Aang needs her to teach Zuko how to waterbend so that Zuko, in turn, can teach Aang. And she needs Zuko to teach her how to firebend. And besides all that - she is a firebender now. Would they really accept her back? Even with the Avatar in tow?

Does she even want to go back? Some day, yes. Definitely. But now?

Besides, something about the woman's posture and eyes tells her it is best to hide her real identity.

"Water Tribe, huh?"

"No." Katara shakes her head. "Earth Kingdom. I've never even seen the poles." Okay, now that is a lie.

"Lucky for you then with how the Water Tribes have been acting."

She raises an eyebrow. "How have they been acting?"

The woman snorts. "They've done nothing but isolate themselves for a century and occasionally raid the villages close to the poles. It's shameful behavior, really."

Anger wells up inside her. How dare this woman insult her people?

"Well, maybe they're working on a plan. Maybe they're just waiting for the right moment. Maybe isolating themselves was the best option if they wanted to survive." Katara tries to keep the irritation out of her voice, she really tries. Emphasis on tries. In her peripheral vision, she can see Zuko shoot her a look and she doesn't have to see his eyes to know what he means.

"It's been a hundred years, girl. When is the best moment to strike? In another hundred years? You tell me. If they really wanted to do something, they would have done it by now. Their forces are not small from what I've gathered, they could at least try to help. But no, instead they raid villages that don't stand a chance against them and keep all the resources to themselves. Face it, they don't want to actually do something. They think they can ward off the Fire Nation forever and keep living in their icy bubble while the rest of the world continues to starve."

Katara doesn't know what to say to that. She's never actually heard another's opinion on her tribe that isn't from the poles themselves. This is the first time she's got an insight into what people of other nations think of her own. And it's not good, apparently.

"They demanded some of my herbs last time they were here. For nothing in return of course. And they robbed Po of his bread and took Jinah's preserved fruit and meat and half the wine the inn had left. Threatened Xiang when she didn't want to give it up. Look at us." The woman makes a wide hand gesture. "We're a small village. They are kids here. We can't fight. We're lucky the Fire Nation leaves us alone because we're too insignificant. We barely get by on our own, we don't need the Water Tribes making our lives even harder."

Katara still hasn't found her voice and is thankful when Zuko exchanges the rest of the money, takes the ointment and leads them away from the stall.

She's known the Southern Tribe occasionally takes resources from the Earth Kingdom. They have to, the South Pole alone only gives very few resources and that's not enough to provide for the whole tribe. No one ever spoke in detail about it, not even Sokka, so she's always assumed they paid and then left. Apparently, they did not. They even threatened people into giving them what they wanted. Does Sokka know about this? Has he ever been part of such a raid?

She doesn't know how to feel about this. On one side, it makes sense. One has to do what one has to do to survive. Even if it wasn't pretty or honorable. But these are innocent people, struggling to get by, and the Southern Water Tribe is not poor. They could have just paid for everything they needed. But no, instead they took it by force, not caring what happened to the people they took it from, only looking out for themselves.

And again: what justifies violence and what does not?

Are outsider's opinions on the Water Tribes really that bad? That they are arrogant and only care about themselves? Maybe they are, in a way. They have isolated themselves and haven't helped the Earth Kingdom in the fight against the Fire Nation. They raid for supplies even if they have enough money to afford to pay for them.

But the Earth Kingdom has made agreements with the Fire Nation. Large parts of it are now occupied, some more peacefully and willingly and some less. One could say that they don't need help against the Fire Nation because they're not fighting it to begin with. That they're traitors who turned themselves over to the enemy and sold out their home country. But that hasn't always been the case, has it? At the start of the war, one hundred years ago, the Water Tribes could have joined the Earth Kingdom forces. They would have stood a chance. But instead, the North and South Pole decided to close themselves off and leave everyone to fend for themselves.

They do have a plan. But that plan involves a lot of violence, violence she's not so sure she can overlook. Not anymore. And it's also awfully depending on whether a certain Avatar shows up or not. What were the chances that Sokka would actually get into that boat in that particular area and accidentally crash against that specific iceberg? Slim to none. Statistically, this shouldn't have even happened. The Water Tribe's plan depends on the chances of something happening that is almost impossible to happen. Before Aang woke up, no one was even sure if the Avatar was even still a thing.

This is crazy. All of this is crazy.

The woman is right, if the Water Tribes really wanted to help the Earth Kingdom, they would have done it a long time ago. Now they're just waiting for someone else to save them and take revenge on some unity-deal that they broke in the first place.

It leaves a bad taste on her tongue.

—

"The Water Chakra deals with pleasure and is blocked by guilt." Pathik's voice blends in with the loud sound of a waterfall plunging down the cliff and disappearing into the clouds beneath. Aang swallows hard. Guilt.

"Think about what it is that makes you feel guilty. Feel it. Let it flow through you. And then let it go." The words are the same as yesterday but this time, he feels like he won't be able to unlock this chakra. Of course he's also had difficulties with opening the Earth Chakra, but this feels different.

Fear is one thing. Guilt another.

Nonetheless, he has to try. For himself, the world, his friends, all the Avatars before him.

He takes a deep breath.

What does he feel guilty about? Easy.

He feels guilty for leaving Gyatso. He feels guilty for leaving the Southern Air Temple at all. He feels guilty for not being there when his people were attacked, for not being able to do anything, to fight, to protect. He feels guilty for leaving the world to wither away into chaos for all these years, for a whole century. For robbing people of their hope, for breaking their belief in the Avatar. He feels guilty for disappointing every single Avatar before him. He feels guilty for not taking his responsibilities more seriously. He feels guilty for getting Sokka involved in that alley fight. For letting Katara get kidnapped by that spirit in the swamp, for Toph getting injured. He feels guilty for going into the Avatar State at the Southern Air Temple, destroying the last remains of his hope and almost killing Zuko and Katara. For switching their bending and robbing them of such a central part of their identity.

He feels guilty for not being able to do anything.

It's too much. There is too much to feel guilty about, he doesn't even know where to start, doesn't know how to forgive himself for all his wrongdoings. Doesn't know if he is even capable of it. If he even should.

The monks had a clear stance on guilt: guilt is a negative emotion and repentance is very important to improve oneself's ways of thinking and behaving. One must think about their actions and mistakes, ponder and meditate over them, and then motivate oneself to do better. It's quite simple. In theory.

Aang has never had many problems with forgiving, either himself or others. Hate is an unproductive emotion and all it does is poison the mind. During his flight on Appa to the South Pole a hundred years ago, he felt guilty because of course he did. How could he not? But at the time, he didn't know what would happen, didn't know of the grave consequences.

Now he does. Now he doesn't think he can forgive himself so easily.

It feels like a betrayal. To whom, he's not sure, but a betrayal nonetheless. He can't let go of his guilt, it motivates him to do better, to be better. The old Aang wouldn't have thought this way. Would have encouraged him to forgive, to let it flow. Would have told him that guilt only clouds the mind. But the old Aang isn't here right now, the new Aang is. The one who slept in an iceberg for a century, the one who woke up to a world in flames. He is different now. Darker, less enthusiastic.

He wonders if he will ever be the same as before the war. He doesn't think he will.

There's this wall in his mind - he can almost physically feel it, is that how clogged chakras feel and he has just never noticed it? - and it's blocking everything and he can't find a way around it or over it. And he also can't tear it down. He just can't.

He feels like he should let it go. Should forgive himself. After all, it's what the Air Nomads always told him to do, especially Gyatso. But the Air Nomads said a lot of things that weren't true. Apparently.

And now he feels guilty for thinking such negative thoughts about his people. Just another thing to add to the ever-growing list. But why does he feel guilty about something that is true? Pathik isn't lying, the Air Nomads weren't as perfect as they made themselves out to be. He shouldn't feel guilty about this. But he does.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He has to try, has to give this a chance. Opening the chakras is important. It could help him save the world and he certainly has to do that. This is not about him. This is about the world. He has to try. He has to succeed.

This is not about him. This is about the world.

This is not about him. This is about the world.

This is not about him. This is about the world.

This is not about him. This is-

But aren't chakras about him? The whole gist of chakras is to better oneself. It's personal and intimate and all about oneself as a person.

This makes no sense.

Maybe he should say it's for the world. And not for himself. This would certainly make more sense, he is doing this for all the people he wronged.

Okay. Again.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

This is not for himself. This is for the world.

This is not for himself. This is for the world.

This is not for himself. This is for the world.

This is not for himself. This is-

Damnit, no. Of course opening chakras is for oneself also, he is the one that will most benefit from this. He thinks. He knows. No, he doesn't know.

He doesn't know anything.

But if he opens the chakras, he has a chance at taking down the Fire Lord and saving the world. So many people would benefit from this. It would save so many lives.

If he can take down the Fire Lord. If.

Right now, he can't. Right now, he doesn't stand a chance. And honestly, he doesn't know when he will. In a few months? A few years?

...

Longer than that?

No. That's not possible. That can't be possible. He has to fight the Fire Lord soon. Not too soon, but soon.

Damnit. This is not working.

He warily opens one eye and sees Pathik deep in meditation opposite him on the cliff. Aang is pretty sure he is not supposed to open his eyes during opening the chakras. He is also pretty sure that chanting mantras and hoping that something will happen is not the way to do it. What was that again? If one stops in the process of unblocking them, grave consequences can happen? He swallows. This is the last thing that he needs right now.

But he can't forgive himself. Not this time, not ever. It would feel like denying his mistakes. And he can't do that, he has some semblance of honor left. In fact, his honor had been something he prided himself on. But that was before. And now it's after.

"I can sense that you're not fully concentrating." He fully opens his eyes and doesn't question Pathik who still sits with his eyes closed. He's the guru after all.

"This isn't working," Aang admits. "I don't think I can do it." And another thing that he can't do. Great. He is officially the worst Avatar ever. He doesn't even want to know what Roku and all the others will say to him once he dies. Maybe that won't be too long from now if he keeps this up.

"Admitting your guilt is hard." No. "Letting it go is harder." Yes. "It's not a linear process. Setbacks are normal. What is important is that you stay focused and don't give up."

But the moment is broken. He can't do it, at least not now.

(He ignores the voice in the back of his mind telling him that he'll never be able to do it.)

He needs air, real air and if he hears the word chakra one more time, he's gonna do something he'll regret. So he opens his glider and jumps off the cliff.

—

He leads her to a quiet corner to hopefully give her time to think and process what she just heard. He knows all too well how she feels right now, how it is to learn that one's own people are... well, he doesn't want to say monsters because that's such a big word and it gets thrown around way too much but... not good people.

He knows because his own are.

(Arguably, one could say the Fire Nation noble class consists of monsters. Or their royal family. He's got personal experience with them after all.)

This is war and in war, everything is fair. In war, there is no good or bad, there is just evil and less evil. In war, there is no right or wrong, no black or white. There is only gray. This is how it always has been, his whole life and the one's around him. They all grew up with it, even if he's been on the other side for the majority of his life, but he is learning. And they can't even fathom how it is to live in times of peace, in times where a foreigner doesn't automatically mean enemy, a time where traveling the world without being in mortal danger is a possibility, a time where he doesn't see death and pain everywhere and can practically smell the injustice in the air. A time where a father doesn't burn his own son to teach him a lesson.

But still - he likes to think there is some good left in the world, some semblance of hope and justice.

And Katara has always thought that said goodness and hope were her people. A beacon of light and justice in times of darkness. He doesn't know to what extent she was aware of the raids happening - she's the princess and Sokka certainly knows but then again, the Water Tribes are a little strange about their gender equality, but that doesn't matter because seeing the consequences in person will always be enough to shatter one.

It certainly shattered him.

(He remembers the first time he saw a Fire Nation soldier get violent toward an innocent Earth Kingdom woman. He remembers the screams and the blood and the panic. He remembers not sleeping for two days because of the nightmares. He remembers not eating for two days because every time he did, his stomach would protest out of disgust for his own nation, out of disgust of him being the prince of said nation. And then he would feel even more disgusted because these were treacherous thoughts he was thinking and Father would kill him for that but did it really matter because he no longer was a prince and he'd never see him again anyway and maybe that was for the best.)

Zuko doesn't have much experience with the Water Tribes. None, actually, except meeting Katara and Sokka. Back in the palace and when he was younger, they were this looming presence, this strange barbaric culture - although he now doubts that bit is true - hidden behind their forts of ice and snow, living in this strange land that practically screamed death, removed from the world. Savages. Of course they attacked Fire Navy ships. Of course Fire Navy ships attacked them. He remembers hearing about some big battle with some big loss for the Water Tribes but at the time, he was too busy with other things - like trying to please his father's every whim and failing spectacularly every time and trying to ignore Azula's laughter and also failing spectacularly at that - to really care except that they won. He also remembers his father's generals being wary about them - and that is practically the highest compliment a foreign nation can get from the Fire Court.

Surviving in their unwelcoming land and fighting the Fire Nation off while still being able to lead attacks that actually posed a threat to the Fire Nation's warships and being able to control the very ocean they were on - he supposes that does deserve respect. Or intense fear. But the two aren't mutually exclusive.

After his banishment, he of course cared about avoiding them because only an idiot firebender would pick a fight with a waterbender in the middle of the ocean. Well, he did so in his second year anyway because he'd been that idiot in the first. He still doesn't know how he or his crew managed to survive every encounter. Probably because Lieutenant Jee had the sense to ignore the orders of his suicidal superior and turn the ship around when things got a little too dangerous. Which had been practically every time. Not that they had encounters with the Water Tribes often, he always had the self-preservation to avoid their waters like the pentapox-plague.

And when he arrived in the Earth Kingdom, he simply didn't hear of them any longer. In a way, the Water Tribes are like the Air Nomads - a mystery hidden away from the world. Just like no one has ever encountered an airbender, only a few have ever seen a waterbender in action.

He hasn't known of the raids, this is the first time he's heard of it happening. But he figures that the poles don't have too many resources on their own - how do they even feed themselves? Meat only isn't sustainable in the long run and all that wood (and even metal that he supposes they stole from the Fire Navy) for their ships has to come from somewhere - so just taking them from somewhere else doesn't seem so unreasonable, even if it's not fair. But again: in war, everything is fair. Even the bad things.

(Especially the bad things.)

Zuko takes Katara's hands in his own, carefully, with not much pressure to avoid causing her pain, and searches for her eyes. She doesn't meet his and only continues staring at a spot only she can see, but she nods and gives him permission. So he starts unwrapping the white cloth that has served as bandages, exposing her hands to the cool air. He can sense the aftermath of the rain, can sense the liquid lying on the ground in puddles and dripping down from rooftops. It's a strange sensation, an unfamiliar one, but it's not a bad one.

He doesn't cringe or make any other facial expression when he takes in her burns. They're red but it's not an angry red, they stand out but not too much on the tan skin, not like a certain other burn on his pale one. He takes the ointment from where he stored it in his bag and starts, carefully, always carefully, to rub it into her skin. He hears her take in a sharp breath and can see and feel her stiffen but she doesn't take her hands away, doesn't start yelling at him.

She would have not too long ago. He's not sure what exactly changed.

Or maybe he is.

He offered her his support last night. Listened to her and tried to take some of her pain away. He didn't judge her because he's done worse and it's not his place. After all, he knows what trauma does to people.

He knows what it's like not being able to go to sleep because of the nightmares. He knows what it's like waking up in the middle of the night with ash in his throat and fire on his skin and a silent scream on his lips. Knows what it feels like to be completely alone.

Knows what it feels like to want someone to talk to, someone who listens.

So he went and offered exactly that. She didn't want comfort, she wanted someone who listened to her. And she doesn't want comfort now, so he won't give it to her.

"You can talk about it to me if you... if you want." His fingers rub the ointment in with what he hopes are soothing motions, and no, he doesn't let himself appreciate the contrast between dark and light, between his pale skin and her tan one, because this is not about him but about her and she is in pain.

After a few silent moments, she nods, a bit hesitant, but she does it nonetheless. What she doesn't do is start talking but that is okay, he will give her all the time she needs, she will know when the time is right. Whether that is in a few hours or tomorrow or another sleepless night doesn't matter.

Some part of him can't believe that this woman who had looked at him like she wanted to drown him with his own spit would let him try to soothe her and talk her down, would let him rub salve into her skin. He half expects her to start yelling any second that she can do that just fine by herself, that she doesn't need his pity, but she doesn't. She stays there with her hands in his.

It's nice. He doesn't want to be enemies with Katara. They're stuck together, now more than ever. But if she was going to make his life harder and scream at him at every opportunity she got, he wouldn't give her the time of day either.

But that has changed.

In a way, he reminds her of himself. Angry with the world, convinced that her people can do no wrong. But she is learning. Just like him.

That is more than he could have ever asked for.

For now, it is enough.

—

"You feel guilty because you feel like you abandoned the world and now you can't let it go out of fear you will lose the drive to save it."

Aang doesn't startle when he suddenly hears Pathik's voice behind him but opens his eyes and relaxes his posture from where he's been holding his back rigid in a meditative pose somewhere in the temple where he can feel the wind on his skin.

"You're holding on to that guilt because you don't know what else to hold on to." Pathik settles down beside him and crosses his legs under him. He holds a bowl of that awful juice from food that should never, under any circumstances, mix, to his lips and drinks while keeping his gaze trained in front of him. Aang is not sure why but it calms him that he's not being watched directly.

And the guru is right. He has lost so much in just a few days - or at least it felt like a few days to him at the time. He doesn't know what to hold onto because despite being an Air Nomad, he needs something to ground him, anything. And his guilt was the first thing that came to mind, his guilt was that anything.

"But you should not hold on to anything. You should free yourself of your earthly tethers in order to open your chakras successfully."

And there it is again - he should. It's not about what he wants, it's about what he should do. And he hates it because ever since the monks told him who he really was, it's been an endless circle of you have to, you must, you should. But he knows that the world's needs are more important than his own wants, that he is the reincarnation of so many lives and that he can't be the one to break the circle, to fail. He has a responsibility, whether he likes it or not.

He is an Air Nomad - he of all people should understand the concept of removing oneself from worldly wants and needs.

But he doesn't. Never has. Isn't sure if he wants to.

"I don't know if I can do that." He has to, he knows. But that doesn't mean that he is capable of it.

"You can."

But letting go of everything that binds him to this earth - that would mean not only letting go of the guilt, but of everything else too. Including his friends. Would that even be fair? They've helped him so much, believed in him - still do - and stayed by his side. And Appa... Appa is the only thing he has left of the Air Nomads. The only physical thing anyway. And Momo because he remembers seeing tons of flying lemurs back in the day.

No. He can't do that. It would feel like a betrayal.

"You said I can only unlock the Avatar State if I open the chakras - but why could I go into it at the Southern Air Temple?" he asks instead of saying all these thoughts out loud because he is not ready to, and avoiding and procrastinating is what he does best.

Pathik's bushy eyebrows knit together and a line appears between his eyes. "I'm not exactly sure. But I have read of that happening to Avatar's before you, many centuries ago. Mostly one's in times of war where they were either untrained or still undiscovered. I think it has something to do with emotions. Tell me, when you were at the Air Temple - you felt very strongly, didn't you?"

Aang nods. Of course he did. He saw the remains of his people's genocide.

"The reported cases of that happening always described the Avatar being in a strong emotional state. It's reason enough to assume that an untrained Avatar who can't control his own powers can enter the Avatar State when he feels very strongly. Grief, sadness. Maybe even joy." Pathik turns to him and trains his eyes on his, gray on gray. "It is very important that you unlock your chakras so that you can master the Avatar State and enter it at will. Not being in control of such power... it can end in catastrophe."

Aang swallows. Hard. Because that has already happened.

How very reassuring.

"Well," he begins a little sheepishly because Pathik does not look like he is joking. "At the Southern Air Temple... when I... I kinda switched the elements of two of my friends?" And now he feels like the worst Avatar all over again.

"You... what?" Pathik looks at him with this weird look in his eyes that he definitely does not like.

"Uh, they went unconscious for a few minutes, I think, and when they woke up, their elements were switched." And he prays that Pathik has any idea why that happened because he is a guru and if he doesn't, then who does?

The guru averts his gaze and stares at the ground, seeming to be deep in thought. Aang doesn't dare to interrupt him. After a few moments, he looks up. "I have... never heard of that happening before." Oh. Great. "I can imagine it is the spirits telling you that you have to do something because the world is in imbalance and a world not in balance will destroy itself. And you have to do it fast." Even better.

He forces himself to breathe. Dying of lack of oxygen will not help his case. Or the world. And it would be pretty anti-climatic, he supposes.

"So is there... any way to switch it back?"

"Not that I know of. But I don't have any knowledge of that topic in general. But I do know what could help you. Or rather, who."

He perks up. "Who?"

"Are you familiar with the Si Wong Desert? There is a library there hidden somewhere in the center. A great spirit guards it and does not grant permission to enter it to just any human. Not that he deals with them very much, not many make it there. Some search for years and still don't find anything. Some never come back at all. Most think it is a myth, a legend."

"But you don't?"

"Oh, no. I was there. I've met Wan Shi Tong. Truly a wise spirit. Where do you think I got all the information on the Air Nomads and past Avatars from?"

"And you think maybe we could get answers on the whole bending-switch-thing there?"

"Possibly."

Which is not a definite yes but it's better than nothing so he supposes their next destination is going to be a secret library somewhere in the desert. He can already see the other's jumping up and down in joy.

"Why... why are there no bones here?" he asks because that question has bothered him ever since he entered the temple but he's never found the right time to ask. He supposes now is as good a time as any. "There were in the Southern Temple but here... here they're not."

Pathik looks at him with a face that Aang can tell is deliberately blank. "There were. But I didn't see it fit to stay here and wait while seeing the remains of my people's ancestors." Oh. That explains a lot.

"Th- thank you." He swallows hard. Again. And then moves on to the next question because he doesn't want to dwell on that particularly gruesome topic any longer. "When I woke up from the iceberg there was a giant light beam in the sky. And it happened again at the Southern Air Temple when I entered the Avatar State. Why?"

"It's a manifestation of power," Pathik answers. "When you broke out of the ice, you released great power that you had trapped within yourself, even greater than at the Southern Temple, considering that you've been in that iceberg for a hundred years. And what happened at the Southern Temple is that you entering the Avatar State signaled your return. I believe every temple in the world got a signal."

"Every temple? You mean, really every temple?" He can feel his own eyes widen in horror. That. Is not good.

But Pathik only nods. "Yes. Even in the Fire Nation and Water Tribes."

Oh no. They were paranoid immediately after it happened, of course, and flew back to the Earth Kingdom and only slept when they reached it in the morning. They thought that someone could have seen the giant light beam in the sky and alerted the Southern Water Tribe - and only the Southern Water Tribe. But apparently, now the whole world knows of his return. Even the Fire Nation.

They have to change their location fast if they don't want to run the risk of troops climbing their way up here and finding them. Never staying in one place for long seemed like a good tactic before - now it's necessary.

Of course, the Water Tribes and Fire Nation don't know that they're up here. But still. It would make sense - an airbender visiting an Air Temple. Sooner or later, they'd find them.

Which means that they have to leave the temple soon. Which means that he has to open up his chakras soon.

He gulps.

"Breathe, Avatar. It is very difficult to get up here when you're not in possession of a flying bison. I know that from experience."

But the Fire Nation made their way up here before. And Pathik's tone is a forced calm, not a natural calm.

"I believe you should calm down and concentrate on your chakras."

No, he shouldn't. He must.

—

This was not supposed to happen.

She slides into a stance and summons her flames, the azure color glowing brightly in the dim light of the setting sun, and shoots it at the various earthbenders around her.

An ambush, her mind whispers over the sound of battle. It's an ambush.

But she wouldn't be Azula if she couldn't say she is prepared.

She leaps high into the air and kicks, only seeing the fireball hit its target out of her peripheral vision before she spins and conjures an arc of flame. People scream and burn and the smell of sizzling flesh is in the air, invading her nose and making its way to her brain.

Almost like the Agni Kai.

A boulder flies over her head and she ducks just in time to avoid another one. Turning, she kicks and sees the offending earthbender get hit by her flames and fall to the ground in agony. Another scream fills her ears but this one is different. This one catches her attention.

Her eyes find the source.

Ty Lee.

The acrobat is lying on the ground, bleeding with one arm encased in rock, unable to move. A big man looms over her and raises his hands to deliver the final blow, but Azula is faster.

She begins moving her hands in circles around her, making them wider and wider, until she can see the deadly sparks dancing on her fingertips and feel the nervous energy pulsing under her skin, wanting, needing to be released. Needing to hit, to maim, to kill.

And so she does.

She points her arm and lightning sizzles out of her fingertips, leaving her body to enter another one, and the man doesn't even scream as he falls. He is dead before he hits the ground and all that remains are trails of smoke.

One of Mai's knives flies past her and hits another one in the chest and Azula summons a wide circle of blue flame that takes down three other earthbenders and another one of her own soldiers but she doesn't have the time to distinguish.

Just like in every other fight she is aware of every single nerve in her body, every muscle, every heartbeat. Her body is a weapon and she will use it to bring death if she must. Her mind is calm, always calculating, always looking for an opening, for an advantage, for a chance to gain something for herself and she is ruthless while doing so.

Eventually, the remaining earthbenders retreat and flee, leaving behind a trail of death. Cowards.

She stands, panting, and observes the damage. Most of her attackers are lying on the ground, either dead or in a significant amount of pain that she only plans to release them from in one specific way. A few of her own soldiers are injured but most are fine. Mai is freeing Ty Lee from the ground with one of her knives and helping the bleeding girl up.

"Your Highness." A soldier marches up to her, his red armor destroyed in a few places, and bows swiftly. "The earthbenders did significant damage to our tank."

Azula raises an eyebrow. "How significant exactly?"

"We will not be able to continue further on your quest and will have to request aid."

Normally, this would not be a problem. Sure, it would delay her and set her back a few days, but that's nothing she wouldn't be able to make up for later, either in speed or tactical thinking. But this is the Southern Earth Kingdom and the nearest location where she could repair it is New Ozai. In translation - it is miles away. And she doubts that the city would even have the necessary parts to repair the tank; it is a new and modern design after all.

What is very near, however, is her ship. It's only a day's march away.

She doesn't like this decision. Father won't like this decision. She has been beaten by a bunch of earthbenders. But it is what it is.

And in a way, she has not been beaten. She will never be beaten, she has proven that more than enough. It is a strategic retreat. She will come back stronger than before, and better prepared. Father will just have to accept that.

"We'll go back to the ship. Set course for the Fire Nation."

Notes:

So, putting in some legwork here for future chapters but I promise, it's important!

And oh, is that our favourite prodigy that I see there? 👀

Chapter 11: Ten

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Yes, like this. You're pre- this is pretty good."

Zuko turns his head and eyes her for a second but doesn't comment while she clears her throat and pointedly keeps her gaze on his outstretched arms and hands.

"But focus more on your fingers. Their position is important."

He turns back and goes through the form, the water moving in tandem with his body. It feels good, finally being able to get a hold of this strange new element. The push and pull is starting to feel familiar, the sensation of the water soothing. Of course it's different from fire; he would have never thought that he wouldn't miss the burning sensation just under his skin, running through his veins like blood, the flames within him. And he does, fire is his native and one true element, and it always will be, but water isn't so bad. It's soothing and cool and calming, flowing through his body like a gentle river, never forcing its way through. He could get used to this.

(He has to.)

Out of the corner of his eye - and he has to turn his head a little because his left eye is basically useless when it comes to such things - he sees Katara trying not to look too jealous. And he can't blame her, it's understandable. The abrupt switch has hurt her the most. While he has always had a complicated relationship with his element, hers seems to be different. Easier. Like a snowflake uniting with the snow on the ground. Sokka told him that she's a master, a prodigy. To get that taken away is cruel.

Why she avoids looking at his face, however, remains a mystery to him.

He flexes his fingers and takes a step back before moving his arms in a kata she taught him, sending a stream of water around himself and to an imaginary opponent. The forms are so different from firebending - they're flowing and gentle, not harsh and fast, but there is a strength to it that's not so obvious from only observing. He remembers finding Katara while bending, all those weeks ago in the swamp - the forms looked magnificent then under the light of the full moon. He doubts he'll ever be able to make it look so graceful.

After a few silent minutes, she speaks up again. "Maybe you could- no, forget it."

Zuko stops and now fully turns to her, raising his eyebrow. "What?"

She shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. "It's stupid."

"I'm sure it's worth a try."

She sighs but gives in. "Maybe… you could try using firebending forms. I know fire and water are inherently different, they're literal opposites, but maybe... maybe you could make it work. It would come easier to you," she says and bites her lip, finally meeting his gaze.

He mulls the thought over in his head and nods. Using firebending forms with its natural opponent seems... unusual, but then again, this whole situation is unusual. It's certainly worth a try.

So he moves into a familiar stance and forms a fist with his right hand, then punches. Where fire would normally come out of his knuckles, water now flows to his fist and flies forward, faster than he has ever seen it move and with a force he is sure would have knocked an opponent down. He leaps into the air and kicks and is almost surprised that the water obliges him; Katara mentioned that the feet are only there to stay rooted during waterbending. He tries a few more forms, remembering all the countless - and more often than not humiliating - lessons in his childhood. The water moves in a pattern that is familiar and unfamiliar all at once and he pushes more than he pulls. He still doesn't have complete control over his new element, some forms work better than others, some don't work at all, but it's a start. A good start.

Zuko finally comes to a halt, lightly panting, and looks expectantly at the silent woman next to him. "That was good." She nods. "I didn't actually expect this to work but this is... maybe this would help Aang, too. He wouldn't have to remember so many forms."

He nods in agreement and wipes the sweat off his forehead. Her eyes dart to his moving hand. "You could just.." She makes a sharp pulling motion with her fingers. He mimics the gesture and finds the sweat pulled from his face and hair, floating above his fingers. He eyes it curiously before chucking it away. "Huh. That's certainly handy."

Katara doesn't answer but instead leans down to grab the two waterskins lying on the ground. "Here. You should have this."

He furrows his brow. "Are you sure? They're your waterskins, I could just-"

"No," she cuts him off. "I don't really need them anymore. But you do. So... just take them." He does, even if a bit hesitant, and gives her a small smile. "Thank you."

The corners of her mouth lift for a second. "Don't mention it."

—

"Think about what it is that makes you feel guilty. Think about everything that you think you have done wrong. Think about everyone that you think you've wronged. Let it sink in. And then let it go."

Fleeing the Southern Air Temple. Leaving the world alone for a hundred years. Letting people die and lose their hope. Hurting his friends. Not being better, not doing better. Being unworthy of being the Avatar.

He has to let it go. He has to. That is the only way he can help people. By opening his chakras, by being able to access the full potential of his powers. By being able to control them.

He got it wrong the last time.

This is about him. This is about the world. And this is also for the world and for himself. He is the world; without him, the Fire Lord will never be defeated. Without him, the world will go up in flames. Letting go of his guilt is not a betrayal, it's not running away from his mistakes. It is accepting them and swearing to do better. Without mistakes, there can be no progress. Without the dark, there can be no light.

Aang is a sixteen-year-old boy. Of course he is not perfect, of course he makes mistakes. Of course he was scared, his whole life was about to turn upside down when the monks wanted to send him away. He was about to lose his friends, his teachers, his guide. Not wanting that ripped away from him is only human. He is human, that is the whole point of the Avatar Spirit - there can be no balance between the four nations if the Avatar does not understand the complicated and often contradictory nature of humans. And making mistakes is one of the most human things one can do - the Avatar isn't perfect. And it is important that he isn't because there is no measurement of what perfect actually means.

Running away was childish, yes. But if he stayed, he would have died. He wouldn't have been able to stand against an entire army on his own, Avatar powers or not. The cycle would have continued and the Fire Nation would have focused their attention on the Water Tribes, slaughtering them, too, until no one would have been left. This is for the best. This way, only one culture got erased.

As morbid it is to think that, it is the truth.

And now he is here. He has survived in the ice for a century. And he is doing his best. Learning the different elements, finding a guru to teach him about spirituality and chakras. Learning how to access the Avatar State and his past lives.

There is a war going on, all of their lives are in danger.

(A danger you put them in - no. His friends are here on their own accord. They are here because they want to. He is forcing no one to remain by his side.)

Everyone that could teach him about being the Avatar is dead. There are few guides, if any. He has to figure this out on his own, has to make do with what he has. And he is doing his best.

He is trying.

He is learning.

He is a different person now than he was a century ago. War will do that. And it doesn't mean that he's a bad person now, it only means that he has discovered a new facet of his personality. He can use that. This can be good. And it's okay to have worries, to feel fear.

It's okay.

The Air Nomads weren't as perfect as he thought they were. In hindsight, he should have known, no one is. Questioning them now isn't something he should feel ashamed or guilty about. Questioning something is a sign of love, a demonstration that he is willing to still love them even with their darker side. Putting them on a pedestal is unhealthy.

What happened at the Southern Air Temple isn't only his fault. He saw the remains of his brutally slaughtered people, saw his home in ruins. Anyone would have broken down at that. He is human.

(You should have done better, controlled yourself better, shouldn't have insisted on going there in the first place - no. He didn't know. He didn't know what would happen; at that moment, he was just as helpless as the others.)

What happened to Katara and Zuko isn't his doing. The spirits did that, not him. The Avatar State doesn't mess with people's elements, it can neither switch them nor take them nor give them.

Is he sorry for what happened? Yes. Can he revoke it? No, not at the moment. But he will do his best to fix it.

And that is all he can do. All he can do is try and try and try and not give up. He will not. He will do his best, he is doing his best.

At the moment, that is all he can do.

And he understands. He understands what it means to drown in his own guilt, what it means to hit rock bottom. And he now understands what it means to forgive oneself for past mistakes. It's not running away from his responsibility, it's not a betrayal, it's not denying one's mistakes - it's accepting them and learning from them.

It's the best thing one can do.

And so Aang lets go.

—

The other chakras are easier than the first two.

The Fire Chakra is all about willpower and is blocked by shame. When Aang let go of his guilt - and he doesn't like the term 'letting go', accepting seems to be the better word - he has already done most of the work for that chakra.

He feels ashamed about being childish and running away from his problems. He feels ashamed about being the Avatar who managed to break people's belief in him. But he didn't know what consequences this would have, didn't want to disappoint people like that. All that doesn't excuse that it happened, but he can't change that - he can only try to make up for it, like he is now, day by day.

Being a wartime Avatar isn't easy. He has nothing to be ashamed about.

The Heart Chakra is blocked by grief and deals with its counterpart: love. This one is perhaps the most obvious out of all of them - he has lost his people. An entire race, an entire culture, an entire way of life. His philosophies and values - all turned to ash. His home in ruins, the bones of the people he knew and loved, laughed with, shared his worries with, scattered around. Gyatso - dead. It's more pain than he has ever thought and hoped he would feel, more than he can comprehend. He thinks back to that island the first night after he woke up, how Sokka told him of their terrible faith, and then the Southern Temple - he can't even begin to describe how that felt. No human should ever feel that amount of pain and grief and loneliness, no human should ever have to go through that.

But pain is a part of life. No matter how great or unfair, it's an important emotion to feel. Without pain, there can be nothing good because pain and grief are there to remind oneself of the good things. It will never truly go away. But that is okay. That is necessary. To motivate oneself, to remember.

And he isn't lonely.

He has his friends. They are more than he could ask for, this is the best potential outcome for his situation. That iceberg could have been opened up by something else, another storm perhaps, a lone ship colliding with it. Then he would have woken up alone and confused, without any help in this strange new world, so different from the one he knows. Or someone else could have found him, not Sokka, but someone who wanted to use him. Or someone who would have killed him on the spot.

And he is so grateful for that. To all of them - Sokka, Zuko, Toph, Katara. They all try to help him the best way they can, try to understand and support him. They believe in him. Without them, he wouldn't have come this far; without them, the world would be a worse place.

But it's not only that.

"Love is like energy; it swirls all around us. The Air Nomad's love for you has not left this world, it is still inside your heart and is reborn in new love."

His people may be gone, and he will always miss and remember them, but he has found new people. New love. New opportunities. New chances.

The Air Nomads haven't left him. In spirit, they are still there, still connected with him. Their ghost is still here - literally. Their beliefs and values live on within him and he will do his best to share them with the world, to teach people about this wonderful lost culture.

And so when Aang wipes the tears from his eyes and smiles at Pathik, he doesn't let go of his grief. He accepts it.

The Sound Chakra is about truth and is blocked by lies. This one would have been difficult to open, but thanks to the new insight Pathik provided him, it's easier.

What the monks told him wasn't always the truth. Sometimes, one would have to see for oneself, to see things in a new light, a new perspective, to find the truth.

"You cannot lie about your nature. You must accept yourself, your faith, your destiny."

He hasn't always wanted to accept that he is the Avatar, that he is the one who has to shoulder all the responsibilities of being the bridge between the mortal and the spirit realm. The role comes with many difficulties - friends at the Southern Air Temple sometimes didn't want to include him in their games because it would be cheating. He has and still is expected to let go of many things dear to him. He has to make choices more difficult than most humans ever have to make. He is held to a higher standard. The faith of the world lies on his shoulders, dragging him down, doing its best to remind him of his failures.

All that while he feels like he is just a sixteen-year-old boy. No, he is a sixteen-year-old boy. And, at his core, an Air Nomad - running away from problems is his first instinct, just like his element. Dodge and avoid, never confront.

But there is a reason that he is the Avatar. He can do this. He is not alone. He can't keep running away. He is not only air but water and fire and earth. It's time to include other philosophies in his world view.

He accepts his responsibility. And so he accepts the truth.

The Light Chakra is obvious. It's located at the center of the forehead and is all about insight, getting blocked by illusion.

"The greatest illusion in this world is the illusion of separation. Things you think are different are actually one and the same. The four nations are one. The four elements are one. We live as if we are divided, but we are not. We are all connected with each other. Everything is."

Aang thinks back to the swamp. Thinks about what Sokka and Toph told him about the ghost of the Air Nomads at the Southern Temple. They all have the same core philosophy, even if they are different, even if the swamp people seem to have nothing in common with the airbenders living high up in the mountains.

He remembers the Banyan-grove tree and how its roots spread throughout the whole swamp and even further than that. How each and every spirit vine originates from that one tree.

The elements might seem different. Fire and water, and earth and air are opposites - where one forces its way through, the other finds a way around. But they are still one - elements that can be controlled, that are part of oneself.

The people of the four nations have different cultures, different customs, different beliefs and values and philosophies. But people are people - at their core, everyone is the same. Everyone is human. People laugh and cry and love and hate the same, no matter where. They are all part of the same whole.

And so he lets go of the illusion of separation.

"You have done good, Aang," Pathik says as Aang opens his eyes. "You have opened almost all the chakras. Remember - this does not make you perfect or incapable of feeling negative emotions. You will still doubt yourself or feel fear, sometimes even prejudice. But you will be able to deal with it better than before."

He nods in understanding.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel... good." And he does. He feels lighter than he has since he woke up from the iceberg, lighter than when he arrived here at the temple a bit over a week ago. Like a burden is lifted from his shoulders. He knows that the hard part isn't over, knows that the world isn't actually any different. But he now feels like he can do this. He has a chance at saving the world.

He knows he can.

"Lighter. Like I'm freer. Like I have a shot at this whole thing."

Pathik nods. "The next chakra is going to be the hardest of all - the one that frees you of all earthly attachment."

And just like that, the good mood is gone. Earthly attachment. The one he panicked about all these days ago when he first couldn't let go of his guilt. But he catches himself and swallows. He has opened all the other chakras. It was hard work, but he's done it. He can do this, too.

(He has to.)

"Before we tackle this one, I recommend that you meditate and think about what it is that binds you to this earth. Think about what it would mean to be free of that. Don't be afraid to console your past lives - they should certainly be able to help you with that."

"Yeah, about that..." Aang's hand comes up to scratch the back of his head, the sensation of hair under his fingers now familiar. "I've tried to do that a few times. But somehow I just couldn't... connect? I've tried, I really did. I meditated for hours. But I couldn't feel anything. It's like there's nothing there."

Pathik is silent for a few moments, the lines on his forehead indicating that he's deep in thought. "That, of course, is a difficult matter. Not every Avatar gets it on the first try, from what I've read... you said you tried it several times? And did you truly concentrate and concentrate only on that? Did you seek out spiritual places?"

Aang nods. The swamp has been the only spiritual place where he had a chance to meditate so far, but it didn't connect him to the other Avatars. Instead, it showed him the past.

"I am not sure about this, but my theory is that it has something to do with your hundred-year sleep. You've remained in that iceberg for a century and to survive, you had to constantly use all your powers. That certainly is not healthy and so I can imagine that these are the consequences. Your bond isn't broken - the bond can never truly be broken except if you are killed while in the Avatar State. But it's heavily damaged. Have you noticed anything else that seems unusual?"

He thinks for a moment. "When I first started bending earth, it... it felt wrong. Like I wasn't supposed to bend it. It's the same with the other elements but less. It doesn't hinder me from learning, though, as far as I can tell. And I've gotten used to it, but the sensation is still there."

Pathik nods. "Your Avatar Spirit is injured and that means that everything that makes you the Avatar isn't whole. It's scattered. That makes things that only you can do harder. But the good thing about damage is that it can be repaired. With time, with care. You have to try again and again. You can't give up. You are still the Avatar - that bond is there, even if it doesn't seem like it, don't worry."

He gulps. Well. That certainly seems... he can do this. Like Pathik said, that bond is still there, somewhere. He just has to find it.

He can do that.

(He has to.)

—

Think about what it is that binds you to this earth.

Well, that... should be obvious. His friends, Aang thinks as he crosses his legs underneath him in one of the many courtyards of the temple. His obligations to the world, he adds as he closes his eyes against the rays of the setting sun.

But it's not only that. He is the last Air Nomad, the last airbender. He has to keep their memory, their culture, their beliefs alive. If not him, then who? There is no one else left. This is not something he can just let go, he has a responsibility to them. And even if it weren't - he wants to. Needs to. He wouldn't be able to live with himself otherwise. But the Air Nomads always said that earthly detachment was the goal, the destination, the most important thing in life. But the ghost at the Southern Air Temple says otherwise, a thousand souls clinging to the mortal realm to keep something of their culture in this world. So how does that make sense?

Gyatso loved him. Aang knows he did. And he loved Gyatso too. And he loved his home, the mountains with their winds so perfectly made for gliding, his friends, the fruit cakes his people were so famous for - these are all things that are not so easy to let go of. Things that bind him to this very earth. How is he supposed to give that up?

Of course, he's already lost a great deal of those things. Gyatso and his friends are dead, his home in ruins, and he doesn't have the time to glide all day anymore. He will never eat a fruit pie baked by an Air Nomad again. This loss he has already accepted. It's been hard and it will always sting, but he has to focus on the present and not on the past.

But the present is the problem. He has Sokka, Katara, Zuko, Toph. He can't let them go. What would that even mean? No one has ever described to him what it would truly mean to let go of every earthy attachment, to completely sever all ties. Would that mean that he would become cold? Would he be incapable of caring? But what good would an Avatar be if he wouldn't care about anything anymore? That would defy the sense of the Avatar.

He is afraid. Afraid of what he can do, afraid of what he must do. Afraid of the unknown, afraid of his own hesitancy. This shouldn't be so hard for him. He is an Air Nomad. He has been raised like this. But then again, he has always had trouble letting go, hasn't he? This is what got him in this mess in the first place.

He breathes out more forcefully than necessary in meditation and can sense the faint smell of smoke. At least his firebending is making progress. At least there's something he doesn't completely fail at.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Concentrate.

What does detachment mean? Being free of all earthly tethers. What classifies as earthly tethers?

Well. That's the problem.

Aang can feel it in his head; there's a blockade there, hindering his thoughts. Since opening the chakras, he feels lighter, freer. More capable. More hopeful. His bending training is coming along better. But this last chakra is still closed, a wall in his mind, an obstacle he can't do anything about. Except for one thing. But to get around it, he has to be able to think. And he can't think with that... that thing in his brain. Has it always been like this? How has he never noticed?

How is he supposed to do this?

He feels like he is back at the beginning, back at the first chakra, unable to forgive himself for all his mistakes. This is similar. When he lets go of his friends, of his duty to the Air Nomads... wouldn't that be a betrayal? They've always been there for him. They've protected him, helped him, taught him. He can't thank them by forgetting them.

Again - would letting go mean forgetting them? They don't deserve that. He can't just turn his back on his friends. If he would ask them, what would they say? Would they encourage him to go ahead if it would help save the world? Now that he thinks about it, he is sure they would. They all want the war to end after all, to live in peace without oppression.

But everything in him speaks against it. It would be wrong. So, so wrong. He can't treat people like that. Never. Even in war.

(Especially in war.)

And him gaining access to the Avatar State isn't a guarantee for him to win the war and defeat the Fire Lord. There is still a long way to go, still three elements to master. And even then there could still go something wrong, something that could kill him. Or his friends. Worse - his friends.

He can't let that happen.

But he also can't let go of his beliefs. This is who he is and he has to keep at least that part of himself. This war has taken so much from him, he can't let go of that, too. He can't. He won't.

(He must.)

He is the Avatar. But who comes first? Aang the Air Nomad or Aang the Avatar?

Damnit. He is sixteen years old for spirit's sake! He shouldn't have to deal with all this. He can't deal with all this, he is too young, too hurt, too incapable.

I know this is hard.

A voice. There is a voice in his head that is not his own.

I know you are scared. Everyone would be. Don't be ashamed because of that.

The world around him falls away. Suddenly, Aang can't feel the wind around him anymore or the last rays of the sun on his skin or the chill in the air - there is only the now and nothing else, only the voice in his head.

And he knows this voice. He doesn't know how and he is certain he has never spoken to the person it belongs to before. Has never even heard it before. But he knows that voice.

"Avatar Roku?"

A figure manifests before his inner eye in the darkness. The first thing Aang takes in are his eyes - their amber color glows and radiates gentle warmth. His long white hair and beard form a stark contrast to the deep crimson of the long robes and the ornate pin in his topknot.

"Avatar Aang. I was hoping to speak with you." His voice is deep and friendly and wise. "Our time is short. Your connection to your past lives is damaged."

"I know, Guru Pathik told me that," Aang answers. "How are you able to speak with me now? Why not before?" He tries to stand up but finds that he can't move his body. It's like he has no body.

"The Eastern Air Temple is a highly spiritual place. The veil between the spirit world and the mortal realm is thinner here. But with your spiritual injuries, you won't be able to speak with me for long."

"I know, I... I'm so sorry." The words almost jump out of his mouth. "I shouldn't have run away, that was childish and stupid, and I know I made so many mistakes and-"

"Aang," Roku cuts him off. "You were sixteen. You are still a child. No one is perfect. Not even the Avatar. It wasn't your fault. I'm afraid I made many mistakes myself." He looks down at that with a sad look in his eyes.

"But I'm the worst Avatar ever!" It doesn't matter that he's forgiven himself for his mistakes, it doesn't matter that he did nothing but meditate on that this past week, it doesn't matter that he opened the chakras - his mouth can't seem to stop moving, now that he finally gets the chance to actually talk to his past life, he has to apologize. It's his duty. "And I'm trying so hard but I don't think I can open this last chakra, but without that, I won't be able to go into the Avatar State and I already hurt my friends with that and-"

"Aang." He is interrupted again but the old man doesn't seem angry. "These things happen and you are doing your best. You have already opened almost all your chakras in only a week - I needed months for that. You have it harder than most Avatars before you and yet here you are, still fighting and not giving up. Trust me, I know how you feel right now. I should be the one apologizing to you."

"What? Why?"

"I should have done more to prevent the war," he answers. "I bear more fault in this than you think. But this is a story for another time - we don't have much left. I came here to tell you one very important thing."

"What is it?"

"By summer's end, a comet will soar through the sky like it did a hundred years ago. The comet that Fire Lord Sozin used to destroy the Air Nomads. You must be prepared by then."

Cold dread fills Aang and if he'd be able to feel his body, he's sure he'd feel his blood turn to ice.

"Prepared for what?" he whispers, even if he knows the answer perfectly well.

"To face the Fire Lord."

"But the end of summer is only a few months away - how can I... I don't think I'll be ready by then." He speaks fast, erratic. "I still have so much to learn, there are three elements I still have to master and that whole situation is also kinda chaotic and it's just... I don't know how. Or if I'm capable of doing this."

"You are the Avatar," comes the answer. "You are capable. It is your duty."

"But what if I fail?"

"Then the new Avatar will take your place, just like you took mine."

"But I... then the world would be... no, not again! I can't let that happen! But I don't know how to open the last chakra and... and Guru Pathik said that I should ask you about this and-" He is aware that his words are all over the place but he can feel the connection weakening, second by second, and he has still so many questions, so many things he needs help with.

But the world doesn't care.

"Remember Aang - you are the Avatar. Only you can bring balance and peace."

And with that, Roku fades, leaving behind the familiar backside of his eyelids. He gains awareness of his body again, the goosebumps on his arms, the sweat on his skin, the hairs on his neck and head standing up. He opens his eyes and the wind blows cold against his cheeks, making him notice the tears there.

This... this can't have been it. He still wants to know so many things and he hasn't gotten any closer to opening up the last chakra.

Now all he knows is that the end of the world, his confrontation with ultimate evil, seems much nearer than he first anticipated.

He is really glad that he is so close to a cliffside when he throws up.

—

He tries to get into contact with Roku again for hours after his encounter, but to no avail. His thoughts can't seem to stand still; they're swirling around his brain like leaves in the wind and he can't really focus on anything. It's frustrating.

The feeling of eternal doom hasn't left him ever since Roku told him about the approaching comet. The end of summer is only a few months away - in not even a year, he will have to face the Fire Lord. He's not sure he's ready for that - no, he knows he isn't. He is a sixteen-year-old boy. How could he ever beat the most powerful firebender in the world fueled by a giant death comet when he can't even control his own powers?

He shares that concern with his friends around the campfire at dinner.

"Maybe you don't have to fight him before the comet," Katara suggests. "I know Roku said that but wouldn't it be smarter to face him when you feel like you're ready?"

"Yeah," Toph agrees and takes a sip from the stew in her bowl. "No offense, Twinkletoes, but if you fight the Fire Lord now, you're gonna lose."

Aang tries not to feel offended by that. It does nothing to quench the guilt though and only feeds more fuel to the immense dread building up inside him. It's like a flame trying to consume him whole.

"I know my father," Zuko argues. "He knows of the comet. It's a major astrological event - we've been watching the sky for centuries. I read about it when I was still in the palace. Apparently, it gives firebenders the strength of a hundred suns. There's no way my father won't use that to do something horrible."

If he'd have any hope left, it would have died with those words. But as it is, he hasn't had any to begin with, so he only gulps and nods in acceptance of his dreaded future.

"So the plan is clear then, I guess," Sokka says. "You" - he points to Aang with a stick he found on the ground - "open up your last chakra and gain access to the Avatar State. Then we go to that secret library and see what we can find. With some luck, you can switch Zuko's and Katara's bending again. We then use the remaining months to train and maybe find some allies and then we go to the Fire Nation, knock at the front door to the palace and you kick His Flamlinesses ass. No offense," he adds with a look at Zuko, who only shrugs. "None taken."

"Look, Aang…" Katara begins, then hesitates. After a few silent seconds of her staring to the ground she straightens up and meets his eyes, blue on gray. "You don't have to do this alone. We're here with you. We're ready to help."

Her words fill him with a warmth he hasn't expected. The knot in his stomach loosens up a bit, the weight on his shoulders seems just a bit lighter.

"Yeah!" Toph exclaims, a fist in the air. "I'd love to see these ashmakers get utterly trounced by a little blind girl!"

"Mister Avatar Aang, oh your quadruple elementiness." Sokka bows in a mock tone. "We are at your humble service."

As they all laugh together, Aang knows he can't let them go.

—

The many stars above them line the night sky, glowing like fading embers, high and unreachable. The moon is almost full, illuminating the top of the temple and the two figures sitting there in an ethereal light.

"This is your last chakra and the most important one," Guru Pathik says slowly, sitting with his legs crossed, all traces of his usual humor gone, replaced by a seriousness that makes Aang swallow hard. "The Thought Chakra resides at the crown of the head and deals with pure cosmic energy. It is blocked by earthly attachment. Close your eyes, Avatar."

Despite the fact that they've done this six times already, this feels different. More permanent. More final. He can feel his palms sweat and resists the urge to bury his fingernails in them, forcing himself to take a deep breath and close his eyes.

This is for the good of the world. He has to do this. He must.

(He can't.)

"Think of the attachments that bind you to this earth."

His friends. His duty to the Air Nomads. His worries, his fears. His compassion, his trust. His love.

"Picture them clearly."

Sokka, Zuko, Katara and Toph laughing at the campfire just a few hours earlier. Telling him that he isn't alone.

Sokka, doing his best to comfort him.

Toph, trying to cheer him up with her jokes.

Zuko, nodding in approval at a good firebending form.

Katara, simply caring.

Gyatso, sharing jokes and wisdom and proverbs with him.

The Air Nomads and their gentle nature, their pacifism, their belief that all life is sacred.

The love he feels for those people.

"And now sever those ties. Imagine yourself cutting through these ropes, these tethers holding you back. And let go."

He imagines turning his back on them. Not speaking to them anymore. Cutting ties with them.

He imagines not being able to feel this feeling anymore - friendship, love. Feeling cold inside. Detached from anything and anyone. Feeling alone.

Alone.

"Energy is all around us. Let the pure cosmic energy flow into you from the universe."

Suddenly, he is not at the top of the Eastern Air Temple anymore. Suddenly, he is on a glowing path, miles above everything else. The stars are all around him, glowing, shining, so close that he can almost touch them but still so far away. In the distance, something emits an even brighter glow. Himself.

Aang begins walking on the path, his bare feet not feeling its texture. The figure comes closer until it's looming over him. He sees himself, arrows and eyes glowing white with a ball of swirling energy between his hands. Pure cosmic energy.

He can feel it all around him and within himself, throbbing through his veins, stroking his inner flame, filling him with raw power. His power.

He is reminded of the swamp but at the same time, this is so much more real. So much more powerful.

He feels a pull, like the figure wants him to come closer. He is not afraid. No, this is himself. This is his destiny. So he takes a step forward.

And stops. And hesitates.

He knows what the figure wants. He knows what the Avatar Spirit wants. Doubt fills him.

No.

He can't do that. He has a duty not only to himself but to his friends. He can't be that person, he can't be this cold, can't allow the war to change him. There has to be another way, another solution, he can't-

Everything falls away.

And then he is falling, falling, falling, and there's no end, no ground in sight, nothing there to stop this fall and his insides feel like they are getting pushed out of his body and he can't breathe, can't even scream, and-

And then he is back on the ground again, back under a sky full of stars that now seem to scorch him with their light. He finds Pathik staring at him.

"Avatar." His voice is quiet, eyes filled with familiar dread. "What have you done?"

"I've rejected the last chakra."

And with that, Aang stands up and runs away.

Notes:

A lot of Aang content in this one, but it's important for later!

Chapter 12: Eleven

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

He is panicking.

But it's not panic like when he found out about the Air Nomads or what the people of this strange new world think of the Avatar. It's not even like the gut wrenching terror he felt at the Southern Air Temple.

(Thank the spirits for that.)

Now, all he can do is just sit there in a part of the temple only reachable by airbenders with his legs pressed to his chest and eyes staring forward at a wall holding the gruesome secrets of a massacre. When he squints, he can even see blood running through the cracks like a morbid imitation of the waterfall outside.

He has rejected the last chakra.

What has he done?

Aang has given up the future of the world, has literally condemned it to burn until nothing but glowing ash is left.

For the second time.

And because of what? Because he couldn't let his friends go? Because he chose his own selfish wants over the world's needs? Again?

(How can keeping a lost culture alive be selfish? How can wanting to not be alone, to not wither away in dust and smoke like the skeletons of his people, be selfish? He doesn't have an answer to that.)

He should be able to deal with this better. He cleared all of his chakras except the last one. That is more than most people ever archive in a lifetime and he has done it in a week.

But it's still not enough. He is the Avatar, the bridge between the two worlds, the world spirit in mortal form. He is to be held to a higher standard.

(He is just one boy.)

(It's not enough.)

Of course, Aang could try to go back, try to clear the last chakra. He hasn't forgotten Pathik's warning that stopping the process has consequences. But he doubts he would even be able to enter the state of mind required for the last and most spiritual chakra.

He has failed. Again. And the familiar sensation of it doesn't hurt any less.

Speaking of familiar sensations... there is something vibrating around him. He can feel it in the air, in the way his hairs stand up, in the way his heartbeat gets just a bit quicker. Out of instinct, he closes his eyes.

(He is not afraid.)

The energy buzzes around him, he can feel it coating his skin like fog, like a cloak. The thoughts in his mind spiraling around and forming irregular geometrical patterns and intangible webs calm down, sort themselves out. A soothing sensation presses on his temples like water slowly dripping down his skin, like snowflakes falling on a sunny winter day.

(He is not afraid.)

And then he hears voices. Not his own, not those of his past lives, but they are his all the same.

The voices of his people.

Sokka and Toph told him about the ghost they met at the Southern Temple. This must be it. But he doesn't dare to open his eyes, only listens instead to their ethereal song, trapped within these walls, between the cracks, floating around like fog on a misty day or dust in the sun.

But no. They are not trapped.

They are here by choice, the only thing remaining of a lost, ancient civilization, something not of this world but still utterly human.

It's beautiful.

Their song dances through him like the blood flows through his veins, weaving itself through every fiber of his being, filling the cracks in his shattered heart, soothing the harsh edges of his thoughts, collecting the pieces of him lying scattered around on the ground before him because he is not strong enough to do so himself.

He can breathe again.

And he knows it's not alright. He has messed up. He has been selfish again. But maybe that's not such a bad thing. Maybe that doesn't mean that the world will crumble to ash and dust. Maybe he can still do this.

He is not alone. He has got his friends and the memories of his people. He doesn't need the Avatar State.

This is not perfect, not ideal. He is not perfect. But that's alright, that's okay. He doesn't have to be. As long as he isn't alone, he doesn't.

He can do this, with or without the last chakra.

—

"No, this is... what are you doing?" Sokka's panicked voice fills her ears as Toph moves a stone. "Playing," she answers.

"But this is not how you play."

"It's how I play."

"But that way is wrong."

"Your face is wrong."

"My face is - wait, you can't even see it!"

"I don't have to, to know that it's wrong."

The others snicker while Sokka huffs in an attempt to keep his dignity.

"If I remember correctly, you never really cared much about the rules," Katara reminds him.

"If I remember correctly, that's because you never respected them in the first place," he retorts. "I had to adapt against my evil cheating sister."

"Okay, so, first of all, I never cheated-"

"How can you know that when you don't even know the rules?"

"- and second of all, those rules made no sense. Still don't."

"They make perfect sense! They are there for a reason, Katara."

"I'm sure your nose is also that big for a reason, Snoozles."

"Stop insulting my - hey, you don't even... you know what, forget it!"

Katara leans over to whisper in Toph's ear behind what Toph assumes is a hand that helps zero with concealing the action and only draws more attention to it. Which, when she thinks about it, seems to be the point. "His nose really is big."

"Katara, I can hear you if you hadn't noticed."

"Oh, I did, I just elected to ignore your presence. For peace of mind, you know."

"Katara!"

"I think the Air Nomads had a similar game," Aang offers before anyone can make a snarky comment. "But it was bigger. And the stones could only be moved through bending. And I'm pretty sure the rules were... different? What were they again?"

"See, not even Aang can remember them."

"And here I thought the Avatar had more brain cells than my sister. First of all, you have to remember that-"

"Ah, you know what, I think I just remembered them," Aang interrupts a bit sheepishly and Toph can imagine his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, a gesture he seems to have picked up from their local walking furnace. Or former walking furnace. "Yeah, it's a great game."

Katara snickers and Sokka huffs. Again. And despite being on Appa's wooden saddle, Toph can tell that Aang is lying.

Sokka can too, apparently. "You all have absolutely zero cultural appreciation."

"It's my culture, too, dear brother."

"And no appreciation for games that challenge the mind," he continues, ignoring his sister. "Strategy is a very important skill to have. One which you all lack, obviously. Or maybe you just lack the brain cells to understand such a complex and ancient game."

From somewhere on the other side of the saddle, Zuko groans. "Ugh, not you too. I think my uncle would love you."

"You mean the Dragon of the West?"

"Yeah. His obsession with Pai Sho was bordering on unhealthy."

Toph elects to ignore his use of past tense. Sokka either does as well or doesn't notice. "Pai Sho? I've heard about that, you gotta teach me!"

"I'd rather not."

"I'll force you."

"I'd like to see how that would go."

"Oh, you can, right now!"

Shuffling breaks out, destroying the makeshift game in the process but everyone is beyond caring at that point. Toph wishes she could feel the vibrations, this wooden saddle feels like a personal offense to her, but the sounds Sokka makes are still satisfying.

"Uh, guys, this saddle isn't so big," Katara complains but gets ignored.

"Strategy is indeed very important," Aang says. "But it's even more important to know how to adapt to situations one cannot foresee. That's what Gyatso used to say, at least."

"Speaking of Air Nomads," Sokka says, interrupting his shuffle with Zuko. "What about the Avatar State? Did you clear all your magic energy so you can go all glowy on command? It was kinda unclear yesterday."

"Uh." Aang draws the sound out longer than necessary. "It's called chakras. And... yes. Yes, I can. I'd rather not demonstrate it, though. For... obvious reasons."

Toph noticed his first lie. She notices this second one, too.

—

"Ugh, how far away is that desert again?" Katara.

"It should be just behind those mountains." Aang.

"You mean the specific mountain peaks there or in general?"

"Uh..."

"I don't know what your problem is, it's right there." Toph.

"Where?"

"There."

"But I don't... Toph!"

"You're my only enjoyment here, I gotta have fun somehow."

"TOPH!"

—

"Okay, so why can't you trust trees?" Sokka.

"Because trees are... I don't know, big and scary and, uh, intimidating?"

"Because they're shady! Hah, get it, sha-dy?"

Zuko slaps a hand against his forehead.

"Sparky is scared of trees?" Toph.

"No!"

"Sparky is scared of trees! I'm so gonna remember that for the rest of my life!"

"It's not gonna be very long if you keep talking like that."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Uh... both?"

"Guys, I have another joke! What do you call a crying sister? Huh? Huh?"

No one answers.

"A cri-sis!"

"Sokka..."

"OW, KATARA, DON'T HURT ME!"

—

"What should you do if you get locked out of a room?"

Silence.

"Talk to the lock because communication is key! Get it? Key... why are you all looking at me like that?"

Silence.

Then:

"Sokka, if you tell us one more bad joke, there is no guarantee of what will happen. And Appa seems to be getting tired of carrying this many people if you know what I mean." Katara.

"I do and technically, there is a guarantee of what would happen because... OW! NO! MERCY! PLEASE!"

"Sorry, Snoozles, that sounds like a You problem."

—

The flight is a long one, the tall mountain peaks between the Eastern Air Temple and the Si Wong desert prolonging their journey, and they only reach their destination when the sun begins to set, setting the sky aflame with its bright orange colors like the fire he used to bend. The air is hot and dry and while Zuko grew up in a region of the world well known for its heat - it's not called Fire Nation for nothing -, he misses the humidity of his homeland and instantly despises the dusty feeling that settles on his tongue and the arid air that makes it hard to breathe. The fact that he is a waterbender now only makes everything harder.

Luckily for their sanity, they find an oasis with a small village not too far into the desert. He appreciates Sokka but if he has to listen to one more bad joke, he's sure he would have throttled the man. If his sister hadn't gotten to him first. Or the small earthbender currently grumbling about how much she hates sand.

The inn of the oasis - which apparently has been given the very creative name of Misty Palms Oasis, though he can only wish for some mist - is filled with all kinds of shady - and he grimaces in remembrance of that terrible joke - looking people that only make him all too aware of the dao swords strapped to his back and the water skins Katara gave him. They buy two rooms, one for the girls and one for the boys - Aang had taken one look at the grim-looking sandbenders and decided to spend the night with Appa in case they tried anything -, and order some food and drink to wash the sand from their mouths before settling down into a quiet corner. Zuko can't remember the last time he ate something he hasn't killed or prepared himself and the food admittedly isn't the best quality, but the fact that it's something other than plain rice or meat or some plants makes up for it.

"So. Simple plan," Sokka says in between bites. "We get up tomorrow at the crack of dawn and then search for the library. I don't wanna spend any more time here than is strictly necessary."

"Ugh. Does it really have to be at the crack of dawn?" Toph grumbles, well, grumpily.

"Yes. I don't know if you remember - because you clearly don't possess the brain capacity to even understand a simple game - but we're on a tight schedule. Evil is coming." They all groan in unison at his dramatic look. "So, Aang, did your buddy tell you anything about where exactly this library is?"

"Nope." Aang shrugs. "He just said it's somewhere in the middle. We should be able to find it on Appa though."

"If only it were that easy." An unfamiliar voice suddenly joins the conversation. A man with a worn smile looks down at them, standing in front of their table. "Many travelers have tried finding the legendary library of Wan Shi Tong. Many have failed. At this point, I'm not even sure it's real."

"And you are?" Zuko wants to know.

"I'm Professor Zei. I'm here in the name of the Ba Sing Se University and have traveled this desert for years in search of the library. I've had no luck so far." His brown eyes wander around the table. "You kids look to be a bit young to be traveling alone. Especially here."

"We're old enough, thank you," Toph answers, not bothering to turn around.

"And you're still here?" Sokka asks with raised eyebrows. "Years of nothing and you still do... what do you do exactly? Just walk around all day, looking smart? Listening in on other people's conversations?" He does this thing with his eyebrows that Zuko's seen Katara do sometimes where he lowers one eyebrow and raises the other. He never thought he'd be jealous of someone's eyebrows but well... here he is, being painfully aware of his only remaining one that hasn't fallen victim to his father's burning hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spy on you. You were just... well, I can't exactly tell my ears to not hear something. And I've heard many people say the same thing as you and never come back. I just thought that maybe I'd save you from making the same mistake."

"So," Katara says, "you're a professor and experienced traveler. Do you maybe have any tips for traveling in the desert? Or any maps of this place?"

"I have many. May I join you?" Without waiting for an answer, he pulls a nearby chair to the table and then reaches into the gray bag slung around his shoulder. "This" - he rolls out a map while the others take their bowls into their hands to make room - "is a map of the Si Wong desert. It's... well, obviously there's nothing really here. Except for sand. And dunes. And sand dunes. But somewhere here" - he circles an area in the center of the map with his fingers - "is said to be the library of the great knowledge spirit Wan Shi Tong."

He pulls out another map. "This is how it's supposed to look like. It's marvelous, isn't it?" The map depicts a picture of an elaborate building with tall walls that remind Zuko of a palace in the heart of a volcano west of here. But its structure is unusual and like nothing he has ever seen before. It looks nothing like a library.

"Well, it's a big building. Shouldn't be that hard to find," Aang says confidently.

"Oh, it is. Trust me, young friend."

"On foot, sure. But have you ever looked for it while in the air?"

—

"So, Twinkletoes." Toph stands before him outside of the inn and tries her best to ignore the chilling night air. "I know that you lied earlier." Aang suddenly gets a very bad feeling.

"Oh, really? Uh, yeah, I kinda lied to Sokka there... I don't really think that the game was that great. I mean, he explained it rather complicatedly but I didn't want to be culturally insensitive. Games are - or were, I guess - really important to the Air Nomad's and maybe that's the same for the Water Tribes, I mean I wouldn't really know, I guess I just have to ask sometime and I didn't wanna insult anyone accidentally and-"

"Twinkletoes." Toph continues to remain unimpressed by him stringing together words that he hopes make at least some sense. "You know what I mean. The other lie." She raises one eyebrow and if that expression isn't terrifying, he doesn't know what is.

Out of explanations and caught in the act, Aang sighs. "Let's just get onto Appa." He lets his eyes roam around the place. "I don't really trust these people here."

"Well, well, well, he's learning." He doesn't comment on that.

"So," Toph says once they're comfortable on Appa's saddle behind the inn where he can make out the rooms the others booked if he squints. "Explain."

He sighs again, something he seems to be doing far too often these days.

"I didn't... open the chakras. Not all of them, anyway. I mean, I opened six of them. And there are seven in total, you know. But the seventh... well, I just... couldn't do that. Kinda."

Her expression doesn't change. "And?"

"And I kinda... can't enter the Avatar State now? Or I can but I can't really do it at will. Pathik said that when an Avatar gets really emotional, he can enter the Avatar State. And that is obviously what happened at the Southern Air Temple. And he also said that I need to open up all of my chakras to gain control over it. And I didn't do that, so..." He trails off, not feeling brave enough to finish the sentence.

Silence hangs heavy between them like the dust on the stone walls around the oasis. Aang doesn't dare to breathe and is glad that Toph can't feel it up here.

Toph angles her head. "And what was that seventh chakra? Why couldn't you open it like you did the other six?"

There's a knot in his stomach and it's pressing painfully on his insides but he can do nothing to untangle it or relieve himself of the pain. He swallows. "It said that I needed to let go of all... earthly tethers. You know, attachment and all. And I didn't... I didn't wanna do that."

"It's not about what you want, Twinkletoes, it's about what you need to do. This isn't a vacation."

He winces because she is right. She is right and she knows it and he knows it and she knows that he knows and he knows that she knows that he knows… but it doesn't make things any easier. Doesn't change anything, least of all what happened back at the Eastern Temple. The old familiar feeling of dread and guilt and shame rises up in him like water at high tide, certain and inevitable, burning and chilling all the same.

"I know, I... I couldn't." And the excuse sounds so weak that he wants to slap himself.

"And why couldn't you? What kept you from throwing all your attachments to the wind?" She leans forward a bit, arms slung around herself to ward off the chill. "You do know that the price for that is... hm, world peace. Unlimited power. Does that sound any good to you?"

"Of course it does!" His voice is louder than he intended it to be and so he glances around before continuing in a lower tone. "But it's not as easy as you think it is."

"Then explain it to me."

"I... giving up all my attachments... Pathik made me think about what that means. And what those attachments are. And... well, friendships are an attachment, too. Apparently. I think. And I don't... I couldn't just give you guys up. I owe you that. And I don't really know what would happen once I did give up everything, not just you guys, and I was afraid and I..."

Toph doesn't say anything for a while. Her expression remains unreadable and he can only wish that he was that good at masking his emotions. Aang starts nervously fidgeting with the end of the green headband he uses to cover up his arrow, his hair having grown out enough to hide the rest, while he waits for the explosion that is sure to come.

He waits. And then he waits some more. And she is still not saying anything or giving him any hints when he should start to prepare to dodge.

"So," she finally says after what feels like hours - even if he has learned that he can't exactly trust his perception of time anymore. "Did I understand that right? You gave up the Avatar State - and I repeat, the Avatar State - for... us? Because we're your friends? And you felt like you owe us something for some reason and it wouldn't be fair?"

The way she words it confuses him. "Uh... yes?" His hand comes up to scratch at the back of his neck.

Toph's eyes narrow and there is something hard in her eyes Aang has seen only once - when she found them in that forest near Gaoling. "Do you know what you did? You gave up the Avatar State, your most powerful state, the one where you could kick Ozai's ass into oblivion without even breaking a sweat, for us? Do you have any idea what that means? For you? For us?" Her voice is irritated and reflects uncomfortably accusing in his head and the confusing patterns of his swirling thoughts.

But she doesn't give him time to answer. "Do you know why we are here? We are here to help you tell the Fire Lord where to stick it! That's why! And you just... gave that up for us? Even though that's the whole reason we're here? So you're saying that we're the reason you said goodbye to that? Do you have any idea of what that will do to the others?"

Aang doesn't think he has ever seen Toph this angry. He suddenly feels like a koala-sheep about to be mauled by a moose-lion and the uncomfortable sensation of prey crawls its way up his neck, erecting a primal fear in him.

"I... look, I'm sorry." Damage control. That's the only thing he can do now. "I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, you didn't mean to? Well, that doesn't fix anything!"

"I was scared!" His voice is louder than he anticipated but this time, he doesn't care. "I was scared, okay? No one told me what exactly would happen if I let go of every attachment and I was scared that I'd stop caring! What good would an Avatar be that doesn't care? There is no one here to help me with this stuff and I have to figure everything out myself and I'm trying! I've opened the other six chakras, that's gotta count for something! And when I get really emotional, I can still enter the Avatar State, so maybe that'll work with Ozai and... and..."

And he's crying and damnit, he doesn't want to cry, doesn't deserve to cry, not when he is this weak, not when he is still trying to excuse his own mistakes because it is a habit and habits are hard to break. It's like a second nature to him, always has been, and he hates it because this world demands something more, something stronger, someone stronger to protect it, not him. Never him.

Toph inhales loudly and closes her eyes for a second. "I won't apologize. You needed to hear that, Aang." Her voice is calmer now, softer, more like a breeze than a storm. "But I do know that you're scared. And that you're trying. Look... we're all here to help you fight the Fire Lord. We believe in you. And we're your friends. We won't leave you, no matter what happens. I'm not gonna say that we wouldn't have been mad at you if you would have let us go, back at the temple, in order to save the world, because what-if's are not gonna help us, and what's done is done. We just need to focus on the now. But please, Aang, talk to us. We have ears, you know, and the ability to convert thoughts into words. You don't have to do everything alone."

"Yeah, I... I guess I was scared of what you'd think of me. And that I needed to do this alone because, well, I'm the Avatar. I'm supposed to do things alone."

"To hell with what you're supposed to do. Last I heard, you're also supposed to die if you get stuck in an iceberg. And look what happened to that." She sighs again. "I'm not sure how the others will take it. And that's why I'm not gonna tell them and leave you to do it because I know your fickle heart well enough to know that you're already beating yourself up enough. Choose your own time but, for the love of the spirits, I expect them to know sometime before we take on His Assholeness, otherwise I'm gonna tell them myself. And that is a threat." She points a warning finger at him. "Don't make me come true on my words. And I say we, Twinkletoes. Because we will take on Ozai. Not you. Not you alone. We. You get that?"

"Yeah."

"Good. And you don't owe any of us anything because we're here by choice. Except maybe Katara but I think she's worked out her issues. You get that, too?"

"Uh, yes."

"Fantastic. And it's getting real cold out here and this just reminds me of how much I hate this desert. Good talk. Night."

And she leaves him feeling lighter than he did ever since he told that lie to Sokka.

—

"Ugh, I hate this desert. And I hate flying. No offense, Appa." Toph throws her head back with a loud groan.

"How do you stand it, Professor?" Katara asks, directing her question at the man staring at Appa's head in amazement from his position in the saddle. "I can't imagine living in this climate for years."

"Oh, I don't," he replies, meeting her eyes. "That's what vacations are for." He winks before directing his attention back to the sky bison.

"I wish we could get a vacation," Toph grumbles from beside her, her voice so low that only Katara can hear her.

"Where did you find this magnificent beast? And how did you tame it?" Professor Zei asks Aang, whose shoulders have visibly dropped under the heat of the sun. It's a good thing he has grown hair; a sunburn on the head does not sound very enjoyable. Appa groans, which only makes the professor drag his hands through his soft fur.

"Uh, at the... Eastern Air Temple? Yeah, at the Eastern Air Temple," Aang replies sheepishly, not looking back. "We were just there because we were... curious and uh, then Appa showed up. And he was lonely and wanted company so we took him in... and taming? There's no taming. Sky bison either decide that they like you or they don't… uh, at least I assume that's a sky bison, I mean they're extinct by now, I guess. Except him. Obviously. So... oh and he doesn't like being called a beast."

"Marvelous. Truly marvelous." If Zei found any holes in the story, he doesn't comment on it.

"Hey, guys." Sokka squints at something in the distance. "What is that?"

They all turn to find out what he's seeing. Somewhere, off in the far distance, is... water? It looks like water.

"By the spirits." Katara leans forward. "That looks like a lake? Is there a lake here? The map didn't show any lake." She turns to Zei, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, that's no lake." The professor doesn't even bother looking at said water. "That's an illusion. A trick. A Fata Morgana. There is nothing there but sand." They all stare at him questioningly. "I don't really know why that happens but it's said that the spirits of the desert like to mess with travelers and lure them to their death with the promise of water. If we were to follow that illusion, we would never be able to reach it. I myself almost fell victim to such a trick a few years ago."

"Spirits of the desert?" Aang raises his eyebrows at him. "There are spirits here, too?"

"Of course there are," comes the answer. "There seems to be no life here but that's the point - it only seems like it. And with all those people here that have died in their travels - well, I imagine many lost souls still wander in search of a way out."

Katara gets goosebumps at the thought of being stuck in this place forever, cursed to wander forever between the endless dunes. The sun gives her energy, but the heat is unbearable.

Besides her, a frustrated Toph hits the edge of the saddle with the back of her head. "Not again. Had enough spirit action for the rest of my life."

Katara can't help but agree wholeheartedly.

—

"So, professor. What is the difference between a-"

"Sokka, I swear to the spirits, I will hurt you!"

—

"Guys! There it is!"

"What?"

"Where?"

"Finally!"

They all stare off into the distance.

"...but there's nothing there?"

Toph turns. Waves a hand over her eyes. Breaks out in maniacal laughter.

"I can't believe you guys still fall for that!"

—

"I spy with my little eye... something starting with T."

"Uhm..."

"The greatest earthbender in the world, legendary Earth Rumble Champion?"

"Uh-"

"You do remember that we're spending the night on sand, right? Rough, dry, annoying sand that gets everywhere. And I mean it. Everywhere."

"Uh... sure. Yeah. I meant the greatest earthbender in the world, legendary Earth Rumble champion. That's totally what I meant. Absolutely. You excel at this game, Toph."

—

"Does this hurt?" Zuko rubs his fingers carefully over the burns on her skin. It feels strange, but it doesn't hurt. Her skin seems to be extra sensitive under his fingers. "Not really." She does her best to ignore how soothing those motions feel. The last time he did that, she was too out of it to really realize it. Now she's fully in the moment.

"Good." He pulls away. "I think you can start bending again. And you won't have to wear these anymore." He holds up the white cloth that served as her bandages. "But I'm afraid it will scar. Lightly. But, uh... you'll be able to see it."

Katara looks down at her hands with a thoughtful look. Turns them and lets her gaze wander over the dark skin that seems paler in the moonlight, now dotted with red spots on the back of her hand, her knuckles, her fingers. He's right, the scars are only light and unlikely to become problematic in the future.

But still.

But there's also no point dwelling on that. Back in her tribe, scars are seen as a badge of honor. The proof that one survived a dangerous encounter; warriors are proud of them. It's no big deal.

(How would they feel if they'd find out how she got them? What she is now?)

(She pushes the thought away.)

She looks up again; eyes flitting briefly to Zuko's scar. The skin is red and mangled with rough edges; his eye is slitted and pulled into a permanent, unnatural glare; combined with the pale yellow color he looks almost like a reptile. Almost. His left ear is affected, too; it's deformed, smaller, and of the same deep scarlet as the rest of the scar. She wonders if he has any trouble seeing or hearing. She also wonders if she would be able to heal it, if she still had her bending.

(She also notices that his scar looks almost like a handprint.)

(She ignores it.)

"So," she says, averting her gaze from the left side of his face and looking to the side. "The library. Wan Shi Tong. You think that will be any trouble?" He shrugs and puts the bandages away before leaning back and putting his weight on his arms, staring up at the sky.

"I don't know. I hope not. But spirits are spirits; they don't play by the rules. Our rules, at least. If that library really is that legendary, it would be weird if we didn't find any spirit there." His voice sounds rough from the heat of the day, even if that rapidly changed as soon as the sun had set. Deserts could get surprisingly cold. And for the first time, she is glad that there is now an inner fire burning inside her. It gives her energy during the day and keeps her warm at night.

"Someone sounds experienced." Katara crooks an eyebrow.

Zuko snorts, the corners of his mouth pulling up. "Yeah, you could say that."

And then, because she is utterly bored, what with the few chores that could be done out here already done and the seemingly endless fly on Appa over one of the most boring landscapes in existence with no library in sight, she asks, "Care to elaborate?"

He meets her gaze, and she can see hesitation in it. Then it's gone when he blinks. "Well, one time there was this lake spirit. No idea what name that thing actually had but it's probably better if I don't know. I made camp not far from, well, a lake and then went to fill up my water skin. And suddenly, I find myself being dragged under by these unnatural growing vines and I heard this laughing... it didn't sound human. Freed myself and got the hell out of there. And another time I wandered too deep into some abandoned temple for shelter against this storm. Got woken up in the middle of the night by a face staring at me. It was... I don't know how to describe it actually. But it was creepy. Fought it off and ran."

"You seem to be good at running."

He rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, well... the only time I couldn't run several people got killed."

One of Katara's eyebrows shoots up. "What happened? If you want to talk about it, of course," she adds, remembering that he's given her the same courtesy. She's not sure what exactly she's doing.

"Well, we... remember that I was banished? And on a ship before I came to the Earth Kingdom? We were just sailing around aimlessly and one day, we got attacked by this giant thing with tentacles... maybe some sort of squid? I'm not sure. I don't know if it was a sea monster or some kind of spirit but it was... scary. It had so many teeth, I've never seen so many teeth in my life. And its eyes... they were black and lifeless, like there was no soul behind them. With its tentacles, it crushed men, threw them into the sea or directly into its mouth. Destroyed the ship. I got hit by something and, well... woke up on a beach in the Earth Kingdom. We must not have been very far from land, I can't really remember. I hope some of my men have survived." He looks up at her at that. "They were good men, you know. Fire Nation, yes, but they were put on my ship for a reason."

"And what was that reason?" She shouldn't talk with him about sympathizing with the Fire Nation; she doesn't know what she's doing. But at the same time - he's not working in the name of the Fire Nation. He's working against it and planning to overthrow his father. He's not exactly a sympathizer either.

"Not agreeing with the Fire Lord. Suspected treason. Or a bad work ethic. Some also just had bad luck. I'm pretty sure my father wanted them to start a mutiny. Joke's on him, though. They were..." Zuko looks off into the distance, eyes unfocused. "Of course they talked. Every crew talks and they were sailors and there's not much to do on a ship with no destination... but they were also respectful. And didn't oblige every command of mine. In hindsight, that was smart. I probably would have gotten us killed a few times otherwise." He chuckles lightly. "They were fun to be around. Pulled me out of that hole after... and well, they were skeptical of my father. And the war." Katara doesn't comment on how he obviously skipped a part of the story. He didn't push her, so she won't either.

"You see, I had... suspicions," he goes on. "Back when I was in the palace. I was skeptical. I had my own opinions, always did. Something my father tried to beat out of me. Didn't work, obviously. And the older I got, the fewer sense things made, the weaker the excuses and justifications sounded. But I never really..." He clears his throat. "And on the ship then - I spent two years there -, surrounded by people who were also punished for having their own opinion... well, let's just say I heard a lot of things. And those things made sense, for a change. And they weren't pretty. So I of course didn't want to believe them even if I knew deep down that they were right. I was just... too proud or deluded to admit it. And then I landed here and saw with my own eyes what my nation did to others..." He shakes his head. "I just couldn't continue lying to myself. Probably the best thing that ever happened to me." He laughs, but there's no mirth in it, only bitterness like in medicine or in a bad tea. "I should thank my father then, I suppose. The only good thing that man ever did for me."

While he looks scowling at the ground, she looks up at the sky, suddenly becoming painfully aware that they've crossed a line somewhere in their conversation and are now in deeper waters. She's not sure she wants to be there; this is dangerous territory.

"You see the star constellation there?" Katara points with a finger at the sky above her, dotted with a million glowing lights, no bigger than her fingernail, to distract him from his dark thoughts and save herself from entering unfamiliar grounds.

"Which one? I see several."

"Those few that kinda look like a creature. We call them the hunting dogs."

"Huh. They've always been the lion to me."

She looks at him and snorts in amusement. "Typical."

His eyebrow shoots up. "Typical what?"

"Typical that the Fire Nation would see a lion there. Those are clearly dogs."

"I'm not sure how you see any animal up there, those are just lights. I personally see vague geometrical shapes that someone found the need to name after animals."

She's sure Sokka would have wholeheartedly agreed with him. "It's called imagination, Sparky. But I wouldn't be surprised if you've never heard of that before."

"Is that supposed to be an insult, Sugar Queen?"

Katara can't quite hold back a laugh. "I'd really like to know how Toph comes up with these."

"I wouldn't. That kid is filled with insults. What do you call that group?" He points to a cluster of stars.

"The Water Snake. You?"

"The Dragon."

She snorts. "Figured."

"As if yours are any better."

"At least our animals exist."

"Hey, dragons do exist. Or they have, at least."

"Point still stands."

"Fair enough." Zuko looks to the ground again, studying each of the sand corns beneath him with hard lines on his forehead. "Just another thing my family is guilty of."

"Oh?"

"Sozin started the hunt for dragons. I'm not exactly sure why... I think Avatar Roku had one as his animal guide or whatever Avatars call their pets. And well, it's known history that those two didn't exactly like each other. So I guess he started the hunt for dragons because he didn't like Roku. Or his pet." He absentmindedly traces patterns in the sand with his fingers. "My uncle killed the last one. That's why he's called the Dragon of the West. When I was younger, I thought that was really cool. And now... I don't think that's something to be proud of."

Neither of them says anything for a while, only listening to the chatter of the others in the background.

"In my tribe, there were stories of dragons passed on from the elders. But they were all really old and from a few generations back so I always thought they were made up. Just some spirit tales to make the Fire Nation even more terrifying."

"To their defense, dragons weren't even that bad. Or so I've heard. When angered, they were deadly and people rarely survived an encounter, but if you acted respectfully around them, they would do the same for you. So it's really just a matter of perspective."

"Perspective... yeah, I guess," she muses out loud. "It all comes down to that one little word." Now it's her who looks down at her lap. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Zuko's gaze shift to her.

"You do know that I mean it, right?"

She looks up at that.

"What I said in that village. That you can talk about it if you want."

And just like that, they're back in deep waters. The ocean is unforgiving and dangerous. Katara swallows. She's not sure she wants to talk about this with him, here, now. She's not sure she wants to talk about it at all. Except maybe Sokka. Zuko and she are not friends, they're... allies? Companions? She doesn't know. She doesn't know anything anymore.

But she does know that he of all people would probably understand her.

So she swallows again and takes in a deep breath. "I just... I never knew that they did that. The raids, I mean. I've never been outside the poles before I got here and... it was all so clear, growing up. So black and white. The Fire Nation was bad, most of the Earth Kingdom too for cooperating with them and giving up without much of a fight instead of siding with us. The Water Tribes were the only real resistance left. Except for Ba Sing Se maybe. I don't know if Sokka knew. He's a man and I'm just a woman in the eyes of the tribe, I had to fight to even be allowed to use my bending for combat. If the chief would have had his way, I wouldn't even be here now."

"I thought your father was the chief."

"Yeah, he was. He died a few years ago in a... in a Fire Nation raid." Her throat becomes dry and tight but she ignores it. "Sokka was too young to take over so the people elected a new chief. I'm not sure if Sokka will ever be chief, the system's a little complicated. And anyway, when I was there, everything was... everything and everyone had their place. And then I came here and the Earth Kingdom has so many different rules. And well, it's not like our group really cares about that anyway." She chuckles at that, if only to ward off the uncomfortable tightness in her chest. "And now I'm hearing that the Water Tribes maybe aren't all that great..."

It feels like treason, saying those words out loud. Thinking them is one thing. Speaking them another.

"And you didn't want to believe it at first?"

She nods. "Yeah. Of course we were justified in our actions. The Fire Nation was evil, clearly, with no exceptions. And I've heard of their plans... they want to make the Earth Kingdom pay, too. Not just the Fire Nation. And I always thought that made sense, I mean, they didn't help us, but..."

But I don't want to be a monster.

(Maybe that is necessary. She will do what she has to for the survival of her people, her culture. No matter the cost.)

(Once she was sure about that. Now she's not.)

"I always knew how far I would go. To save my people. And I always knew the cost for that." She thinks of Hama. "And I always pushed the guilt away. I mean, it was justified, right? If my people survive, then it doesn't matter how I feel. They are more important and I have a duty to them. And I still... it doesn't matter what I think. But I don't know how far I would go anymore. I don't know what would justify the things that I would have to do. The things I already did. The raids."

(What justifies violence and what does not? Who is guilty and who is not?)

"And you think you're betraying your home by choosing your own way?" His look is thoughtful and his eyes hold wisdom that belies his age.

She nods, eyes trained on the ground. "Yes."

Silence falls over them like a thick and heavy blanket. She runs her fingers over the scar tissue on her hands, feels the rough skin there.

"When I first came here, I felt the same way. And we're in similar positions, I suppose. Like I said, when I saw things with my own eyes and how life really was… I was taught that fire is the superior element. The strongest and that only the strong can survive in this world; that there is no place for weakness here. And the Fire Nation was doing good, that's the whole reason this war started in the first place. Sozin wanted to share our wealth with the other nations to lead the world into a new era." He snorts. "What an amazing lie that was. And it was so easy to believe; it's better than the truth. And then I lived among the people we were supposedly sharing our wealth with. And I saw that we did no such thing. That it was an excuse to oppress and kill and hurt others. That it was some sick fantasy covered up by something noble. The urge was there, of course. To just... continue lying to myself. So I wouldn't have to feel guilty and ashamed. But that wouldn't have been right. I just couldn't do that."

He sits up a bit straighter, looks directly at her. "My point is, that there is the easy way and that there is the… objectively right way. And sometimes neither of them is the one you should go. Your tribes have their own version of the truth. Everyone has. And they use that as an excuse to justify their actions. But you're not your tribe. You're you. And that means that you're free to make your own choices and see things for yourself. You don't have to act how they want. You just have to choose for yourself. And... you're not the one doing these things. They do. Not you. No one here is only black or white, there is no only good and evil. Everyone has their reasons."

(You have to choose if you want to allow yourself forgiveness; if you'll give yourself a chance, is what he doesn't say but she understands him nonetheless.)

Katara nods after a few seconds of searching his eyes; she sees his point. Sees what he is offering: Salvation. And he seems to soothe the burn of traitor constantly hissing in her head; ironic, really. But she'll take it.

"Thank you."

Notes:

Yes, I find myself way too funny sometimes. But they definitely deserved some time to just goof around.

Some tough love from Toph re: Aang's little dilemma. It was sorely needed, if you ask me.

And Zuko and Katara are definitely getting closer, but Rome wasn't built in a day. There's still some complicated feelings there, a lot of grief, a lot of trauma, a lot of hesitance to opening up. They'll work it out, I promise lol.

Chapter 13: Twelve

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

On their second day of searching, they spot a tower protruding out of the hot sand. It's made out of dark stone and there's no door, only windows. But it could fit the description of the library when one takes into account the weird roof. Toph lays her hand on the stone and gasps.

"Guys. This is it. This is the library." She turns back to the group. "It's massive."

"Did you feel anything moving inside?" Aang asks.

She shakes her head. "Nope. But I wouldn't count on that. Spirits are weird with their vibrations."

"A sunken library," Zei muses out loud. "I wonder what happened."

"Well," Aang says. "Only one way to find out."

They lower themselves through the windows into the library on a rope with Toph staying outside for reasons no one forgot this time, courtesy of too many blind jokes on Appa.

When they're all on solid ground again, Zuko lets his gaze wander. The library is, like Toph said, truly massive. Rows and rows of bookshelves line the walls of the many corridors, so high that he doesn't know how any human is supposed to reach them. Stairs lead to the other floors, descending down so low that he can't even see the ground. He gets vertigo when he looks over the ceiling. For a few moments, they only stand there on the highest floor in the sunlight shining in from the windows, gasping at the sheer size of this place. The legends didn't lie.

This opens up one problem, however: where do they start looking?

But before he can voice his concerns, a heavy sound of something sounds through the air, bouncing off the stone walls and into his ears. Are those... wing flaps? If he didn't know any better, he'd say it sounds like massive wings.

A massive owl lands before them then, making the stone under them tremble with its weight.

Oh. That sound really was wings flapping together.

He swallows and tenses the muscles in his legs and arms, ready to fight, ready to flee. The weight of his swords is heavy on his back and comforting in its own way.

The owl regards them for a moment. Its eyes are black and without any pupils so it's hard to say who it is looking at. Something in its gaze gives him goosebumps.

Then, the owl speaks.

"Humans," it says in a voice that certainly does not sound human and seems to be its own echo. "I can't say I'm thrilled to see that you are here."

Aang steps forward. "Are you Wan Shi Tong? We've heard so much about you."

He bows but Zuko can't bring himself to do the same. He can half hear the voice of his father in his head, hissing 'I thought you would have learned your lesson the first time'. He ignores it.

"Indeed, I am. I am Wan Shi Tong, he who knows ten thousand things, keeper of this library, guardian of unlimited knowledge. And you are?"

"I'm the Avatar," Aang answers and ignores the surprised gasp from Zei. "And these are my friends."

"The Avatar." Wan Shi Tong's voice is carefully neutral. "And what does the Avatar want here?"

"Well, you see, there is a war-"

"There is always a war." Now clear disdain drips into the spirit's voice.

"Yes, but this one is... it's bad. Really bad. It could destroy the whole world. And I-"

"Came here to find information about your enemies? To find a way to destroy them?"

Well, yes, that too, but at the dangerous undertone in the owl's voice, Zuko doesn't think that would be wise to say.

Aang seemingly gets the same impression. "Uh, no... no. We, uh... well, those two." He points at Zuko and Katara. "They got their elements switched when I went into the Avatar State. And we don't know why. And that's why we're here. To find out what happened." It's not a lie so they should be safe if the owl doesn't catch them looking for information on the Fire Nation.

The spirit stays silent for a few moments and Zuko gets the unsettling feeling that he is being watched, no, studied. Analyzed like some anomaly, some animal. At last, the owl breaks the heavy silence.

"Fine. You can stay here to solve your little problem. Although, I will not grant you my permission without a price. I don't see why I should offer you my knowledge for nothing in return." Out of the corner of his good eye, he can see the others exchange glances. They don't have anything to give to the owl except if it's interested in camping supplies. Somehow, he doubts that is the case.

"We don't," Aang begins after none of them has been able to come up with anything, "really have anything we could give you... you see, we're travelers. We don't have anything but camping gear."

"Then I don't see why I should let you use my library."

"Hey!" Katara steps forward, head thrown back to look the spirit in the eyes. "I did not cross this spirits-forsaken desert, woke up with sand between my teeth and in my hair, listened to my brother's jokes that are so bad that I couldn't decide if I should throw him or myself over the saddle, ate meals with sand corns in them, and looked for a library that no one has set foot in for La knows how long and wasn't even sure existed in the first place, just to now get thrown out by some cranky spirit that, out of nowhere, decided it had a bad day and wanted to deny someone the hope of getting their bending back for literally no reason! I thought your library was open for anyone? Do you have any idea what it is like to get your element switched to your total opposite? No, I guess you wouldn't and you also don't have any idea what we've been through these past few weeks and what it took to get here, so if you could just shut up and let us look for vital information that could save my life, that would be great."

Silence.

The owl stoops down to get its face on Katara's level, whose chest is rising and sinking with every heavy breath she takes. She doesn't falter, only looks the spirit in the eye in a fit of what Zuko can only describe as sheer madness, refusing to break her gaze with a determined expression.

His hand is on one of his swords, ready to fight should Wan Shi Tong attack. He doesn't know what came over her; yes, he gets that she is mad and hurt, he is too, and for some reason the owl makes him want to yell at it, but people have always said that he never thinks things through. They're right, he supposes, because what Katara is doing is exactly what he would have done just a year ago. Or now, but on a bad day. She has reached a Zuko-level of stupidity. That is not something to be proud of.

(He still has the scar from when he felt the urge to look a mad forest spirit in the eye and yell at it.)

(He also has a scar of when he decided to speak up when he should have kept quiet.)

Wan Shi Tong rises back up, looming over them. There is no telling of what will happen next.

"I can give you a chance, I suppose," he finally speaks after a few more seconds of tense silence. "My knowledge-seekers have been getting... rather lazy, I'm afraid. And while they are quick, they are not always reliable. Or inconspicuous. I would profit from someone who would... take over. Go out in the world to find me knowledge to add to my ever-growing collection. And stay here to organize it."

They all exchange glances again. Entering a deal with a spirit is never something one should do. There are too many loopholes, too many ways to end up in a worse situation than before. Spirits aren't humans, they don't operate under the same laws or logic. And besides - they don't have time for this. They have an Avatar to train, elements to learn, a war to end. None of them can get distracted, none of them can stay here. None.

It's Professor Zei who steps forward. "Oh great spirit, I would be honored to assist you in your library. I have been trying to find it for years and I am in awe at the sheer vastness of it. I would gladly spend my life in your service."

Well. That solves that problem, Zuko thinks.

"Professor, you don't have to-" Aang begins, but gets cut off by the owl.

"Very well, then. You will stay here and we will discuss things at a later time. I will find you when I'll require your service." And with that, he spreads his wings that are far too large for Zuko's liking and flies back down. They are alone again. Everyone releases a tense breath.

"You really didn't have to do that," Aang starts again. "We would have found a way-"

"Oh no." Zei shakes his head. "This is not a burden. I have dedicated my life to finding this library. Now that I have found it, I dedicate it to serving the great spirit that resides here. I don't see anything wrong with that."

Aang doesn't find anything to argue with that logic and neither does Zuko. He turns from the happy looking Zei to find Sokka standing just a little behind him.

"Care to help me find some information on astrology?"

Sokka nods. "Sure. But first I have to scream at my sister for deciding to imitate you in the absolute worst of times."

And he goes to do just that.

—

The lamps on the walls emit an eerie blue light and Aang has lost all sense of time as he finally stumbles upon a section dedicated to the Air Nomads. He should probably be looking for anything that he can gather on the Fire Nation, on the comet, on past Avatars, on bending techniques. On what happened to Zuko and Katara. But he finds that he can only bring himself to care for one thing right now - his own culture. The culture that had hidden so much from him, an entire people. Non-benders. He can't just ignore that. He has to find out more. And if not here, then where?

He pulls out scrolls and tomes, propels himself into the air with his bending to reach the upper shelves. He sees various paintings in red and orange and yellow depicting Air Nomads bending their element, depicting temples, sky bison, old songs. He finds tales, some of which he knows, some of which he's never heard of, describing spirits and heroes and ancient legends. He browses through information on agriculture and politics and astrology. He reads through customs and rituals and sacred days. Most of them he knows, but it feels good to see them written down. Sometimes it doesn't feel like the Air Nomads were even real. That this is all in his head - that all the information the world has of them is in his head.

And he finds that his head is not very reliable.

However ridiculous it is, because clearly, the Air Nomads were real - it's good to see all this information written down, immortalized, here in a place where time stands still. Here where no one can touch it, least of all the Fire Nation.

And however creepy this place might be, however distrusting and suspicious Wan Shi Tong might be - the library brings some sense of peace over him. This place has been the same in what - hundreds of years? Thousands? He is sure that if he would have come here a hundred years ago, in his original time, this place would have looked just the same. And for a moment he can pretend that all this never happened, that he is just a normal boy looking for information about his own culture, that Gyatso is just on the other side of that shelf and that his Air Nomad friends are somewhere else in the library, maybe Bumi and Kuzon too.

It's easy to pretend for just these few moments.

After what feels like hours of browsing - and it might have been hours, at one point Wan Shi Tong strolled past the shelf, watching him with observant black eyes - Aang finds a scroll about bending. The script is clearly old and withered away over the years. Even if he squints he can't make out everything.

A picture shows a figure in a bending stance that reminds him of airbending, but something about it is off. Different. And what is the person bending? It's something orange and Aang would almost say it's air but... air is usually not depicted like this. He's seen many other scrolls, he knows what the invisible element looks like on paper. He looks further and finds another picture of the same figure now standing in front of another, this one kneeling. The first person puts one of their hands on the other's forehead and does... what exactly? He doesn't know what.

The text underneath the picture tells him.

Energybending.

He can feel his eyes go wide. He has heard of many things. Sandbending, bloodbending, using fire to propel oneself into the air. But energybending? He has never heard of that before. He doesn't even know what element he would assign to energy. Energy is... well, energy. It's around him, always, but he didn't know one could bend it.

He tries to find out more about this strange form of bending but the script is too withered away and at some point, he gets convinced that the scroll isn't even in a language he can understand.

The fact that this is in the Air Nomad section is no accident, he supposes. It must have something to do with air. He has never heard any of the monks mention such a thing but then again, he has learned that they didn't even know about their non-bending relatives. It's no surprise if energybending turns out to be something ancient, something forgotten.

It's a shame, he thinks.

Aang tries to find more on the subject, but the shelves are too large, filled with scrolls that are too long. He could stay here a hundred years and he wouldn't get through all this. It's frustrating, really. He has all the information he could ever want, he just doesn't have the time. He wants to pull his hair out.

He pulls out another scroll, quickly scanning through it, eyes flitting from top to bottom. And stops.

" - the wind war three decades after Avatar Shiru -"

" - airbenders fighting clans on the Fire Islands and the Earth Continent -"

" - using their bending to suck the air out of people's lungs or rooms they've been locked in -"

" - thrusting knives through people's hands to prevent them from bending -"

" - tying them in front of their sky bison to use as living shields - "

" - one of the most dangerous armies at the time, controlling the element that is, with no exception, everywhere - "

In his hand he is holding a scroll. A history scroll. Telling everyone willing to read it about the wind war a few hundred years ago. A war which the Air Nomads - then not Air Nomads but Wind Nation - started. A war in which they fought. A war in which they used violence to kill and torture and conquer.

He feels like he's going to be sick.

—

A frustrated sigh escapes her as Katara shoves another scroll back into the shelf. She's been searching for hours for anything that has anything to do with the Avatar State and the four elements. She has found absolutely nothing. Part of the problem is the sheer size of this place. Too much information, too little time. She wishes that the shelves were better organized, maybe alphabetized, but alas, they're not. She wonders how anyone is supposed to find anything in here. How much use is a library so unorganized that everyone gets disoriented and spends more time searching than actually reading?

Maybe Zei will bring some order into this, now that he's found a new job. Even if she has the feeling he'll be more busy reading than actually caring about organizing everything. Not that that would do them any good anyway.

She strides around the shelf and comes face to face with the owl. Well, not really, since she has to crane her neck up to even see its ghostly face, but still. Wan Shi Tong looks at her for a second but doesn't say anything, only puts a scroll back in one of the upper shelves and then walks away. She is glad because if he would have, she is not sure she would have been able to control herself.

She didn't mean to scream at the spirit - hell, she of all people should know best not to do that - but she was just so angry. They did not waste two days in this hell on earth just to get thrown out again because some isolated spirit doesn't have a very high opinion of humans. This is the only place where she can hope to get some information about what exactly happened to her, and how to fix it. Hopefully.

Sokka yelled at her, of course. He's her older brother, she would have been disappointed if he didn't. And she supposes she did put everyone else in danger, too. If the owl would have gotten mad at her, not only would she have been hurt, but the others as well. Spirit rules. However illogical they might seem to her.

Her fingers glide across the wood of the shelf as she looks for anything bending or Avatar-related. She's found some scrolls about firebending and waterbending earlier that could be useful. She put them in the bag slung over her shoulder. Katara is not proud of stealing but it's for the greater good. It's not like they have a choice. And she doubts Wan Shi Tong will notice a few missing scrolls. What does he even do with all his time here? All this reading is bound to get boring some time.

A fox passes her and stops in his tracks. She's seen a few of the red-brown animals in these corridors; they're the knowledge-seekers the owl was ranting about earlier, she supposes. Between his teeth, the fox holds a tome and fixes her with his glowing blue eyes without pupils. The hairs on her neck stand up and she tenses. She feels analyzed and all she wants to do is to tell the fox to mind its own business but she supposes what she is doing is its business. Besides, she's already reached her status quo of angering spirits for today. She doesn't want to know what happens if she overdoes it.

But the knowledge-seeker moves on and leaves her to it. Katara releases a tense breath, turning back to the shelf, Momo perched on her shoulder. She reads through a few more scrolls and tomes before she finds what she is looking for.

" - long ago, the spirits walked the earth alongside humans -"

" - many fights and wars and misunderstandings - "

" - Avatar Wan separated them - "

" - spirits kept out of anything human-related - "

" - but imbalance affects us all, not just the mortals - "

" - don't care about individual human lives but the greater good, no matter the price - "

" - sometimes, spirits will do drastic things to reinstall the balance in the world - "

Like switching someone's bending to their total opposite? How does that help anything with balance?

She keeps on reading, eyes trailing over the wrinkled pages of the tome.

" - spirits can't always use their power on mortals - "

" - they use other methods - "

" - are strongest when there is much spiritual energy around - "

So spirits can't always descend to the earth to do whatever they want with humans? So they rely on other methods? Like using the bridge between their world and the human one? What was it that Aang explained to them when he told them his breakdown at the Southern Air Temple alerted the whole world of their presence? The Avatar State is a manifestation of spiritual energy?

It does make sense. It explains the how. But it doesn't explain the why.

A few pages further, she finds something vague.

" - polar opposites, elemental opposites, light and dark, black and white, ying and yang - "

" - many assume imbalance is caused by opposites - "

" - true imbalance is the absence of one or more - "

" - to understand one thing, one must know its opposite - "

" - to win the battle, one must know the enemy - "

" - spirits often take things literally and have unusual ways of expressing themselves - "

" - to regain the balance, one must sometimes first destroy it - "

" - switching with their opposite - "

Here the tome ends and Katara uses her brain.

Spirits have unusual ways of communicating. They don't care about human lives, they only care about the greater good. About balance. And the world is clearly not balanced, what with only one airbender left, waterbenders isolated and earthbenders oppressed. With one element gaining too much power. So the spirits used the Avatar to convey a message. To him, to the world. And they did that by switching her element with Zuko's. By switching with their opposite.

To regain balance, one sometimes must first destroy it.

It's vague but it's something. It's better than nothing. Katara swallows and ignores the way her stomach churns. She was used. The spirits have been using her as nothing more than a toy. They don't care about her or Zuko, they only care about what Aang will do.

And she understands it, partly. The balance must be restored. She understands what it means to do unspeakable things for the greater good.

But that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt; she hates being used like this.

But it gives her a slimmer of hope.

Does that mean they can be switched back? Once the war is won? (If they can even do that.) Once the balance is regained? Although that little traitorous voice in her mind whispers that the balance will never be fully restored as long as there are no other airbenders around. And that would take... decades.

She ignores the voice and keeps on reading.

—

Toph thrusts her feet further into the ground, feeling the hot sand on her bare skin. She concentrates, focuses only on the sensation of the sand corns between her toes. The vibrations are weak but they are there. She would never admit it, but she feels defenseless out here. She can't see very far and bending the sand is... well, not the easiest task.

But Toph has never been afraid of doing the impossible.

Plus, it's not impossible. There are sandbenders out here, there have been in the oasis. It's doable.

A deep breath in. A deep breath out.

Focus.

She moves, putting her weight on both feet, grounding herself, crouching slightly, and moving her hands. The sand moves. Barely.

Pathetic.

She groans in frustration. Appa does the same in solitude.

Okay. Again.

The same result.

"Oh come on, you stupid dirt that dares to call itself earth!"

She kicks the sand as if it has personally offended her. And it has, really. She can't wait to get out of this hell. The air is too dry, the ground is... this, and she is pretty sure she has a sunburn. She feels dizzy and her head is too hot. But she ignores all that and keeps on practicing.

She will make that sand her bitch. She is Toph Beifong.

—

"So you're telling me that there is an eclipse? That robs all firebenders of their bending?"

"If your ears didn't translate it to anything else, then yes."

"That's amazing! Why didn't you tell us that when Aang told us about the comet?"

"I'm not sure when it'll happen, that's why we're here to find out. I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up."

"Well, you certainly got my hopes up. Hah, the jerkbenders get dominated by the moon! Your jerk god knows where to stick it!"

"That's..."

"How do you even know that will happen?"

"Like I said, we worship the sun. We know when it will go out. Besides, the last time it happened a few hundred years ago, it was... bad."

"How bad?"

"Like 'the darkest day in Fire Nation history' bad."

"Wow. What happened?"

"You see, spirits get... angry when the sun goes out."

"But wouldn't they be robbed of their powers?"

"They're spirits. Not humans. They don't operate under the same physical laws as we do. So, no. They have all their powers and get very angry... last time it happened, people got slaughtered. Whole villages were burned down, kids, babies, all killed. One of my ancestors was murdered in a pretty brutal way according to my history books and teachers."

"And you think that will be a problem for the invasion force we'd lead?"

"Exactly."

"Well, we... we'll cross that ice floe when we get to it."

They reach their destination. The section dedicated to the Fire Nation. And find it absolutely destroyed.

Black scorch marks mark the walls, several wooden boards lie around the room that Zuko guesses were once part of the many bookshelves. Not a single scroll or tome is to be found.

"I..." a flabbergasted Sokka begins. "What the hell happened here?"

"The last human that ever set foot in my library," a voice behind them answers and they both startle before turning around. Wan Shi Tong stands - no, looms - over them and looks down on them with what Zuko assumes are angry eyes. It's hard to tell when they're all black.

"And who was that?" he asks.

"And why did he do that?" Sokka adds.

"He was a firebender."

He assumes the owl's ghostly gaze rests on him now; he may not be a firebender anymore but the color of his eyes speaks for itself.

"Called himself Captain Zhao. Came here to boast about the Fire Nation and get intelligence to help destroy other nations and spirits. He burned down this section to prevent anyone else from ever getting that information. For that, he was killed and sent to the Fog of the Lost in the spirit world where he will now wander forever, and that's when I decided to never again let another human abuse my knowledge for war."

Zuko swallows.

"And just what were you two trying to gather here? I thought you came here to fix your little spirit problem."

None of them answer at first, only glance at each other in a hopefully subtle fashion. "We..." Sokka begins after a few tense seconds. "Yes, we... that's exactly what we were doing." He catches himself and gets more confident. "I mean, the Fire Nation has spirits, right? Of course they do, every nation has them... and uh, the elements that were switched were fire and water so we thought that maybe we could start here. See if that happened to any firebender before."

The spirit surveys them for a few more moments before slowly nodding. "Alright. Well, you obviously won't find anything in this section. Good luck with your search." He strolls away and despite his words, Zuko gets the impression that he means the opposite.

"Captain Zhao?" he says after the owl is out of earshot. "Wow, I didn't think he was the type to believe in spirits."

Sokka turns his gaze to him. "You knew that guy?"

He snorts. "Unfortunately. He made my life hell when I was banished. Cut off my supply lines, said that my ship didn't have any important mission and was therefore not a priority which made distributing pay and uniforms and all that stuff difficult. Came on my ship to insult me as much as he could under the pretense of civility. Just a pain, really."

"Sounds like he got what he deserved."

"Definitely. But him being here means that he went on a wild goose chase to find a library in the middle of the desert - and he was a naval captain -, that might or might not exist according to some legend, to read up on spirits. I did not think he was such a... such a nerd."

Finding out where Zhao ended up is... well, satisfying. He doesn't wish death on anyone but he can't help but feel the tiniest bit of glee at the news. Take that, Captain.

They walk aimlessly around the corridors.

"And what now? The Fire Nation section was a kind of important one," Sokka says.

"Maybe there's something about astrology here? I mean, there has to be. This library is too big to not have anything related to the sky here."

"Yeah, you're right. Hey you, weird fox guy." Sokka flags down a knowledge-seeker with eerily glowing eyes. "Could you show us where we can find information about astrological events?"

For a few moments, the fox just stares at them and Zuko wonders if he even understood Sokka. Then it moves and begins to run in one direction.

Sokka and Zuko share a look and then follow.

After a few minutes of running along the corridors and between bookshelves, they come to a halt in front of a depiction of what Zuko assumes is the sun. It's golden and round and with many ornate carvings. For a moment, all he can do is stare at it. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the fox crawling into a hole that is too small for them to follow into. Just a second later, the wall moves.

—

Aang is sick. His stomach is churning violently, he feels like the air is sucked out of his lungs - just like they did - and he wants to throw up. His legs feel unsteady so he sits down, still with several scrolls and tomes depicting the Wind War in his hands and now in his lap.

He can't believe it.

No, he can. He just doesn't want to.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

He knows that the Air Nomads weren't always perfect. Guru Pathik told him as much. He accepted that while opening his chakras. He can deal with this. He can.

But reading up on such a violent past... he was not prepared for that.

He swallows and concentrates on his breathing for a few minutes until the world stops spinning. His thoughts are something akin to a typhoon right now, whirling around in his head in confusing and obscure patterns, thick as fog, fast as wind.

Centuries ago, when the Fire Nation was just a bunch of islands with individual clans and warlords, the Air Nomads weren't the Air Nomads but the Wind Nation. He supposes that sounds more violent than nomads. Which it is. Which they were.

They fought and conquered and killed and destroyed. And they did it all too easily. Air is everywhere and being able to control that... he can see how the Wind Nation was one of the most terrifying armies at the time. How air can easily be used as the most violent element. Not fire, not the Fire Nation... air. Wind.

And after losing the war - which, ironically, was archived by all the other nations working together and using what would later become Sozin's comet and the then peaceful Air Nomad's demise - the Wind Nation changed their ways. It took decades, of course. No major change happens overnight. But they saw the error of their ways, changed their name to something more friendly sounding, and dedicated their lives to helping people. The Air Temples were built not as a home but as an occasional venue to come together at, and the airbenders became nomads.

Later, centuries after their time as warlords, they isolated themselves from the world because they became the opposite of what they once were - pacifists. They developed their philosophy, the one Aang is so familiar with, and a sense of pride in their supposed spirituality that would drive all the non-benders out of the temples to be forgotten, one by one.

Aang swallows the bile rising up in his throat.

That his people, who preached that every life was worth something, that killing was always the wrong answer, no matter the situation, were once as terrible as the Fire Nation is now... it's hard to believe. But it's the truth. Denying it would be foolish and ignorant. And he doesn't want to be ignorant, that was his people's demise after all.

He can't contain a laugh. It sounds bitter and is without any mirth, and a laugh should never sound like that, but he can't help it. It's too ironic, really. The comet was used to help the firebenders fend off the evil airbenders... and a few centuries later, it would help the evil firebenders fend off the peaceful airbenders. No, slaughter the peaceful airbenders. That was no fight, it was a massacre.

In his vision in the swamp, the nun said that the Fire Nation used propaganda to justify the genocide. Aang can now see just what exactly they used. History doesn't repeat itself but one can never be too sure...

He doesn't know how long he sits there against the shelf with various scrolls scattered around him, laughing like a madman, trying to comprehend this horrible information with his imagination spinning a web of incomprehensible symbols, searing unwanted images onto the backs of his eyelids.

But then the walls and the ground begin to shake in what feels like an earthquake and sand finds its way through the cracks in the stone.

—

The room they enter is circular and simply stunning. Sokka can't help but stare in wonder at the painted ceiling depicting the sky in various shades of blue with models clearly meant to be the sun and the moon, supported by wooden beams. In his peripheral vision, he sees Zuko do the same. In the middle of the room stands a wooden machine and when he steps nearer, he notices a mechanism that allows the user to set different dates.

"It's a planetarium," Zuko supplies, still staring up at the ceiling. Sokka's hands itch in excitement.

"This is fucking amazing! This is genius! This is..." he trails off, suddenly overcome with the urge to hug the machine that seems to come straight out of his dreams. He suppresses it. It would be kinda awkward, he supposes.

"It depicts the sky and I'm guessing that if you were to move the dials," Zuko explains further and steps closer to Sokka, "you could determine the position of the sun and the moon at any given date."

Meaning that finding out just when exactly the sun and the moon will overlap would be the easiest thing in the world.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the knowledge-seeker that brought them here leave. He ignores it in favor of putting his hands on the machine, unable to contain his excitement.

He moves the dials, pausing to stare up at the dome. The sun and the moon move. He does it again and again and again until they've been standing in the room for more than a few minutes, hoping that the moon will shove itself before the sun.

Doubt starts to crawl its way up through Sokka's stomach, through his lungs, his throat, and to his brain. Maybe the eclipse isn't before the comet comes. Maybe the eclipse is in a few years. A few decades. They don't have that much time. They don't know what will happen on Sozin's comet but they can all agree that it's going to be horrible; they're talking about Ozai after all. They need to end this war before that happens, which means that they've only got a few months to end a hundred years of conflict. It seems impossible. An event that would rob all firebenders of their fire would be a miracle, the hope the world needs. The hope that they need, the hope that Aang needs. Sokka has never been overly religious but in this moment, he prays.

And, as if Tui and La have heard his prayers and answered them, the moon overlaps with the sun, hiding the golden celestial body behind its white form. He looks down at the date.

"This is a bit over a month before the comet..." Zuko breathes next to him before looking up at Sokka. They stare at each other for a moment with wide eyes before breaking out in joyful shouts and laughter.

Sokka can't believe it. The eclipse is happening before the comet in a few months. They're saved. They have a chance. A real chance.

It's only eight minutes long. That is not long but... it's enough. It has to be.

"We can lead an invasion on that day," he begins, not caring about the volume of his voice in his excitement. "We storm the capital, Aang confronts the Fire Lord when he's at his weakest and we'll-"

"Abuse this knowledge to kill other humans and bring death and destruction onto the world?" finishes a voice that is definitely not his own nor Zuko's. No, this voice doesn't sound human, this voice echoes in an unnatural way.

They both turn around, tense and ready to fight or flee should it come to it. Which is much more likely to happen than Sokka is comfortable with. Spirits just leave a bad taste on his tongue.

Before them at the hole in the wall stands the owl, effectively cutting off their only way out of the room. Next to him sits the fox that led them in here and Sokka narrows his eyes as he realizes.

No one over the age of five snitches, fox-guy.

Then again, he doesn't know how old the knowledge-seeker-turned-snitch is. But still.

"You told me you were here because of your bending problem," Wan Shi Tong says angrily. "You clearly lied to me. Which means that the Avatar himself lied. Humans." He shakes his head. "So predictable."

"Well, technically, we didn't lie," Sokka starts in an attempt to save the rapidly escalating situation. "We just... didn't mention everything?" He cringes at how weak that excuse sounds.

"Doesn't matter. I told you why I hid the library from sight. You went on to do exactly what every other human has done before."

"You don't understand," Zuko speaks up beside him. "There's a comet coming and my fa- the Fire Lord will use it to do something horrible. Possibly to commit genocide. We are trying to stop that from happening. We aren't abusing your knowledge for death and destruction, we are using it to prevent that."

"Everyone thinks they are the heroes in their stories. Only few realize that they are not. I see that you do not belong to this minority."

"No, you-"

"Do not tell me that I am the one who doesn't understand, human," the owl snarls. "I am Wan Shi Tong, he who knows ten thousand things, the great knowledge spirit. I have lived thousands of years and watched humans wage war for no reason other than bloodlust. Everyone thinks they are justified in what they are doing. And let me tell you one thing - as much as times change, human nature does not. You've stayed the same with that same want to kill and destroy. I don't care who you are, you are all the same. You take things without thinking of where you took them from, without gratitude, without sacrifice. You want it all and you want it now. You are impatient and honorless."

"Okay, fine, we'll just-" Sokka glances back at the machine to memorize the date. If he'd forget that and this trip would all be for nothing, he'd drown himself and ask La to punish him for all of eternity. "We'll just leave and never come back and never tell another soul about your library-" The situation clearly can't be saved anymore. He just hopes Aang and Katara are near.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that," the spirit cuts him off. "I killed the last human who dared to taunt me. I do not see why I should let liars roam free."

He spreads his wings - which are massive, Sokka realizes with wide blue eyes - and claps them a few times. He doesn't have to wonder long what for as only a few seconds later, the ground begins to shake and tremble and sand starts to fall from the ceiling.

He turns to Zuko, whose own eyes have widened in horror as they both realize just what exactly is going on.

Wan Shi Tong is sinking the library.

And then he attacks.

Notes:

Don't mind me, just throwing in some lore there :)

Oh god, this fic has nearly hit 100k. And we've still got quite a bit to go, wow. Guess all my years of alternating between obsessing over this fic and then ignoring it again are finally paying off. This feels good! And all your support does too so thanks for that 3

Chapter 14: Thirteen

Chapter Text

" - so I told her to mind her own business and then she... hey, you're not even listening!"

Appa groans.

"Oh, don't come me with that! I may not be able to see you and this sand is just absolutely stupid but I can still tell when you're not paying attention to me!" Toph lightly punches the bison in his side. Knowing Appa, it will only tickle him.

He groans again.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I don't like this either. Spirits, they better hurry up or Twinkletoes is going to get his ass kicked when he crawls out of there. More so than usual, that is." She kicks the sand with a frustrated huff. "I don't get why they are so long in there, books are boring. And don't come at me with the 'oh but you're biased' thing. I would have said that even if I could use my eyes. Why sit around all day to read imaginary adventures when you can go out and have real ones. I just don't get the logic."

Appa groans again.

"Glad we understand each other."

She stands up from where she was leaning on the bison's side and slides into a stance. In the hours she's been out here waiting, she's gotten better at bending sand. Not as good as she'd like and she is far from finished from mastering her little one-woman-crash-course, but better. At least it's something.

Sandbending, she realizes, is a lot like waterbending. Sand is different from the earth and stone she usually works with; it's more fluid. Not as steady. She may be an earthbender and stubborn, but she doesn't have to be only one thing. So she adapts. And the sand follows her command.

Suddenly, a loud grinding sound interrupts her concentration.

"What now?" Toph groans in annoyance. The sound gets louder and louder and seems to come from right in front of her. Where the spire from that stupid library is. But that doesn't make sense, why would that thing be moving-

And then the vibrations hit her. Dulled, muted. But she can still sense them.

Oh no.

Without a second thought, Toph rushes forward and sinks her hands into the stone. Immediately, her line of sight expands, and she can sense the various corridors hidden beneath the dunes. She can also sense several figures running around in panic.

The tower tries its best to sink beneath the ground, driven by an invisible and inevitable force. She grits her teeth and presses herself even closer to the stone, tensing her arms.

Not on her watch.

"Whatever you guys did down there, you fucked up."

—

Katara lets go of the scroll in her hand and lets it fall to the ground with a thud. The ground is moving - no, everything is moving. The very stones this library is built of are moving. How in Tui's name is that possible? Then again, it's a spirit library. Weird things happening shouldn't surprise her. Maybe Toph is moving the building because she decided that they've been taking too long and wants to force them out? Katara wouldn't put it past her. But still - it seems unlikely.

Sand starts to slip between the cracks in the stones and right at the moment as she is looking up, a massive wave of sand forces itself through a large crack above her and buries her. Coughing, she fights her way free, slings her bag over her shoulder, grabs Momo, who frantically clings to the back of her head, and runs. Ignoring the way the sand grains taste in her mouth she makes her way past the countless shelves and finally reaches the general area. She strains her ears for sounds coming from her friends but the only thing she can make out is the grinding of stone against stone and the sand gradually filling the building.

Then, finally, she hears something. A scream.

She rushes to the railing and looks down. There, several stories beneath her, are Zuko and her brother running from - what is that? It looks like Wan Shi Tong but... different. Taller. With a longer neck (she's pretty sure owls don't even have necks so how...?). Scarier.

If she thought the spirit was intimidating before, she was kidding herself. That is intimidating.

But Sokka and Zuko need help so she pushes the fear aside and starts running down the stairs. She only hopes that Aang is somewhere nearby, preferably several stories up. The owl does its best to cut off their way to the stairs that lead up to the windows. Sokka throws his boomerang several times, manages to get in an actual hit, too, but a simple boomerang won't take out a giant spirit. Unless he manages to hit it between the eyes maybe but that is not an easy target, considering the owl is flying around and constantly moving.

Zuko summons the water from the skins she gave him and hits Wan Shi Tong with a forceful blast that looks more like firebending than waterbending. At that moment, Katara is fucking glad that they've decided to start training with their original bending motions to see how adaptable they are because obviously, he has more experience in firebending than bending water. And experience is always something good in a fight.

One problem, though, is her hands. The skin is still a little tender and prickles uncomfortably at odd times of the day, but mostly they're healed and usable again. Only that she hasn't actually used them to start bending again. Zuko and she agreed to wait until they're out of the desert to start with training. One because of the little amount of water they have and must preserve and two to give her hands more time to heal. She hasn't actually bent anything since that incident at the Eastern Air Temple and even if - firebending is not easy.

Katara doesn't let that stop her, though. She can't allow herself to let it stop her, she can't. She has to try, no matter what. She is a master waterbender, for La's sake, she will not fail. She sends Momo flying upwards, hoping that he'll find his way out of the window, and rushes forward until the two boys are merely a few feet away. Wan Shi Tong has his back to her, diving between Zuko and Sokka to separate them. His mistake.

She punches the air with her fist, hot orange flames erupting from her knuckles and scorching a few black feathers. The owl shrieks; a sound so loud that she wants to clap her hands over her ears. But she doesn't and sends off a few more blasts instead until Sokka and Zuko are behind her and running up the stairs. "Katara, come on!" she hears her brother call out and so she follows, turning her back on the spirit and running for her life.

She's always hated stairs. That hatred only gets more fuel now.

Wan Shi Tong doesn't give up so easily, though, and attacks them several times from the sides and from above them, sometimes even shooting up right next to the railing as they hastily make their way up the stairs. She has half a mind to complain about how unfair that is because none of them have wings but alas, she is currently a little busy. All the while, the library continues to, what she realized, sink, which makes climbing stairs all the more difficult. The sound of the grinding stone and the loud, inhuman shrieking of the spirit grates on her nerves but she ignores it.

Suddenly, Wan Shi Tong comes at them from the side with sharp claws and beak and a neck that is way too long for her taste, and this time he doesn't miss. He manages to grab Sokka, who frantically fights back. Katara sends another fireblast at the owl, this time aimed at his face, and the spirit lets go.

And for half an agonizing, terrifying, horrible second, Sokka falls.

And then he catches himself with his boomerang, hanging on the railing.

Katara doesn't have time to be relieved because Wan Shi Tong attacks again and can a boomerang even hold the weight of a fully grown man?

She doesn't want to find out.

Zuko busies himself with fending off the owl, sending sharp water whips at him, not yet having a grasp on how ice works, and just for a second, she wishes she still had her old bending. If she did, she would have impaled that annoying spirit on one of her icicles several minutes ago and that would have been the end of it.

She rushes to the railing and grabs hold of her brother's arms. He's heavy, way too heavy for her, but she pushes the pain and the protest of her muscles aside and grabs tightly. This is Sokka, her brother, the only family member she has left. If she lets him fall, she will jump right after him, and this can't happen, please don't let this happen, no, no, no, she can't live without him, won't live without him, please-

She heaves him over the railing, landing sprawled out on the floor with him lying over her, boomerang clattering to the ground beside them. Heavily breathing, Sokka manages a strangled "thank you" before jumping to his feet, hauling her up, and running, one hand clinging tightly to his preferred weapon, nails of the other digging into her skin in a desperate attempt to not lose her.

Behind her, Katara can hear Zuko sending water at the owl before following.

Wan Shi Tong, of course, gives chase.

They manage to climb several stories of the sinking building without getting hit by the frantic spirit still attacking them and Tui and La, why did they have to be this far down? And why is Wan Shi Tong trying to kill them in the first place? And where the hell is Aang?

As if hearing her unspoken question, the Avatar comes flying between the corridors on his glider. He doesn't join them on the stairs, instead opting to fight the angry spirit in the air. Now it's a fair fight, she thinks grimly. He keeps their backs free, sending several blasts of air and fire at the owl, and so they manage to reach the final level where the rope still hangs from the window. She is glad to see that the library isn't completely sunken yet even if the angle from which the sunlight falls in definitely has changed.

Sokka urges her to climb first and so she does, fingers gripping the material tightly and rubbing uncomfortably against her fresh scars. Katara ignores the pain and presses on, tensing every muscle that she is conscious of to haul herself up. It's not an easy task; the tower is sinking, the rope is shaking and she could get attacked from literally every angle at every second. She suppresses the urge to look back to see how Aang is doing and if she should duck should the owl head straight for her. She glances down, seeing Sokka and then Zuko right behind her, and oh was that a stupid decision, heights were never her thing.

Flying so high on a sky bison that she can't even make out the ground anymore is one thing. Clinging to a rope with a high possibility of falling and seeing just how far exactly she would fall should she lose her grip is another entirely.

A strong sense of vertigo hits her; nausea builds in her stomach; her head starts to spin and she wants to just close her eyes and never move again. Before her muscles get a chance to follow the command, however, she grips the rope even tighter and forces herself to look up. It's not far anymore, and she has pushed herself beyond her limits before. She will do it again.

Finally - after what feels like hours of unsteady climbing - she reaches the window. Gripping the edge, she hauls herself up, and then she's falling, oh no, why didn't she think of that, the rope is literally right there-

Katara lands with a loud thud in the sand and instinctively moves out of the way before the two men following her can hit her. She looks up, seeing first Sokka and then Zuko jump, and if the library sinking has one advantage, it's that the window is not as high up anymore as it was when they first found the spire, meaning that jumping out and being cushioned by the hot sand doesn't hurt.

Appa is right behind her, looking distressed judging by the panicked look in his eyes, and not for the first time does she wonder just how much the bison really understands. Momo is sitting on his head, frantically chittering and craning his neck - see, that's a normal neck, that's a nice neck, why couldn't that stupid owl keep its non-existent neck-

Someone groans loudly and it's not her or Sokka or Zuko - Toph. It is Toph. She spots her just a few feet away, her hands gripping the stone as if it were clay, her arms extended upwards, heels digging into the sand, and her head facing the sand underneath her feet. Is she...? Yes, yes she is.

Toph is holding the tower up all by herself.

A few moments pass where no one dares to say anything, all still busy with calming their own frantic breathing and hoping, praying that Aang makes it out alive. Where is he, they're all safe, why hasn't he followed them out, he has his glider, he-

The Avatar comes flying out the window, gracefully landing a few feet behind Katara and clapping his glider shut. With a scream, Toph lets go of the spire and in a matter of mere seconds, it sinks beneath the dunes and vanishes from existence, only leaving behind golden sand. If she didn't know the library was right there just a moment ago, she wouldn't have believed it.

They all catch their breath for a few seconds, the only sound in the air being the sound of their heavy breathing. Toph stays with her hands on her thighs, facing away from them. Then, finally, she turns.

"You guys" - pant - "owe me" - pant - "so fucking much. You're welcome," she adds after a few more seconds spent trying to control her breathing. "Just what the fuck happened down there?"

—

"Can't sleep?"

He doesn't turn at the familiar voice, only continues absentmindedly playing with the dagger in his hands. The silver reflects the moonlight like the icebergs he saw when he'd been feeling bold and ventured out into colder waters.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Katara settling down beside him, craning her neck to look up at the moon. Zuko gives her a look. "How did you know?" Seems like it's her turn to find him sitting out in the dark.

She nods towards the sky. "The moon is full. You're a waterbender. I could never sleep on those nights."

Well, that certainly explains why he's feeling the urge to bend and a rush of power similar to the ones he used to feel when the sun was in its zenith. It's running through his veins but this time, it's not like liquid gold, liquid fire made of his very essence. This time, it feels different. Like flowing silver and cold ice. Like a tsunami within him, without mercy, without fear, ready to consume him.

Perhaps, he thinks, water and fire are not so different after all.

And then he feels bad, no, guilty. He doesn't really know why, considering that this isn't his fault, but the urge to apologize is there.

"I'm sorry."

Now it's her time to give him a look. She cocks an eyebrow. "What for?"

Zuko shrugs. "That you don't feel the moon anymore, I guess." Because truth be told, that rush of power he is experiencing right now is amazing. If he wouldn't be in a desert right now, he'd find the nearest source of water and bend.

"I thought we talked about this. It's not your fault. It's not Aang's either. Spirits are just... spirits."

He lets out a tense breath. That they agree on - Aang is not at fault for this; he had as little control over that as them. And regarding the spirits...

"They don't view us as individuals," he says. "We're just... one thing. Every human is the same. At least that's what they think." He remembers the conversation he and Sokka had with Wan Shi Tong and can feel his stomach tightening into knots that he'll have difficulties untangling later. If all humans are the same, that can only mean one thing. One thing that he's been trying to avoid ever since a hand full of fire was pressed against his face.

"Then they're wrong." Katara's voice is quiet, almost a whisper, but the cold desert night is even quieter. "I mean, look at our group," she adds a little louder in a clear attempt to save the mood. "We're all very different."

Zuko nods because yes, she is right. At least that's what the rational part of him is saying. Of course he is different from Katara and Sokka and Toph and most of all, Aang. Of course he is different from Zhao and his fath- Azula but it still... stings. He is not always rational. He can feel himself beginning to overthink things, beginning to complicate them in his mind and in his mind only, weaving them together into a net that is impossible to see through. It's funny, really, how he always seems to think too much at the times where he shouldn't and too little at the times where he should.

And he is tired of only having these fears in his mind, contained to the limited space of his brain. He doesn't know what that will do to him, what they will do to him. But he's even more afraid of having them confirmed. So he keeps quiet and doesn't say anything and tries to ignore the shadows creeping up to him at night, reaching with sharp claws for his soul.

(Maybe he is a coward. He's not sure about the definition of that word anymore.)

"By the way," Katara goes on as he doesn't answer. "I found this tome and maybe it's an answer as to why... everything happened as it did. It's a little vague and it doesn't really offer any help but still."

She grabs a tome from the bag she'd set down beside her and holds it up to him. Zuko raises his eyebrow. "You stole from Wan Shi Tong?"

"Not only that. I stole a few bending scrolls, too." She shrugs. "Figured we'd need it more than that old crane. I mean, he tried to kill us. It's only fair."

"Technically we lied to him."

"We withheld part of the truth. I don't see how that's the same as lying. And besides - he's wrong about all humans being the same. We're doing it for the greater good."

And he wants to comment about how the 'greater good' is often used as a justification for just about every single horrible thing he can think of, including the Water Tribe's plan, but he doesn't. He had this talk with her yesterday. Now it's her time to choose, her time to decide. He just has to trust her that it will be the right decision.

(Part of him does, part of him doesn't. Part of him tells him how dare he assume he has any idea of what she's going through, part of him tells him to help her, guide her, aide her with his own experience regarding loyalty.)

(Maybe he has to choose, too.)

He takes the tome from her hand and reads through the pages she points out to him. He reads of spirits and balance and humans and dark and light and at the end, his head is filled with a million thoughts. None of which he can voice out loud.

"I-" he tries but fails.

She nods in understanding. "That was my exact reaction. It feels... I don't know, like we're being used? And I get it, I really do. We're worth less than the balance of the world but... just how do the spirits think we can archive that? I just don't know what they want us to accomplish."

Zuko mulls this over for a second. "Well, they want us to restore the balance. Obviously. And we're doing that by helping the Avatar. And hopefully, we'll be able to achieve that during the eclipse." Sokka and he told the others of their discovery as soon as everyone had regained their breath. If this wasn't his father they were talking about, he would have been a little... concerned about the bloodlust Toph had shown. Then again, he wasn't that different at sixteen. Just more reserved.

"And it kinda looks like they want us to understand each other? I mean, here, this section." He points it out to her. "'To understand one thing, one must know its opposite'. And 'To regain the balance, one must sometimes first destroy it'. It's pretty self-explanatory. We need to get a grasp on our elemental opposites, starting from zero. And well, we're working on that. You were pretty good against Wan Shi Tong today, by the way."

She nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, I figured. Just makes you think when is the balance truly restored?" She points to another section. "'True imbalance is the absence of one or more.' That implies that the balance will only be restored once airbenders walk this earth again. Which will take decades, if we're lucky. Maybe it will never happen, who knows."

They both know what she implies with that sentence and both don't want to ruin the mood by saying it out loud.

"And uh" - she gives him a shy smile - "thanks. I wasn't sure if I'd even be able to bend what with my hands but obviously, I could. You weren't so bad yourself in there."

"Is Sokka okay? That cut on his shoulder looks nasty."

"It's probably gonna leave a scar but he'll be fine. He'll boast about that for the rest of his life. 'I, the great Prince Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, went toe to toe against the great knowledge spirit and lived to tell the tale. Come see the badge of courage I bear and kiss my feet for all of eternity for I have saved you all from this terrifying evil!'" Katara deepens her voice in an imitation of her brother. Zuko can't help but laugh out loud, the distant memory of his sister doing the same on his mind. When she did it, however, it hadn't been as friendly.

One thing sticks with him, though. "But why would he show off the scar? I don't wanna sound rude but... that's usually a sign of failure."

She tilts her head and gives him an odd look with furrowed brows. "Sign of failure? No, we see it as a sign of honor. You got away from a dangerous situation without dying. That's something to be proud of. I'm guessing the Fire Nation doesn't see it that way?"

He suddenly imagines Water Tribe warriors showing off their scars and comparing them with each other. It elicits a... strange feeling within him. One he doesn't really want to think about.

(The mangled skin on the left side of his face starts to prickle uncomfortably. He ignores that, too.)

"Uh, no," he says as he realizes that Katara is still looking at him and that he still hasn't answered her question. He ducks his head, studying the yellow grains of sand beneath him, shimmering in the silvery light of the full moon. "We're expected to do things... well, perfectly. We have to be perfect. And a scar is a sign of not being perfect."

(There is a reason his father burned him where all could see. Where it would be impossible to hide. He wanted the whole world to see his son's- no, the banished prince's failure, the banished prince's weakness, the banished prince's imperfection.)

(Some nights, he still thinks his father was right to do so. A part of his mind knows what was done to him is wrong. The other part says that he deserved it. All of it.)

Katara is still looking at him and Zuko can see her eyes flitting to his scar. Briefly, quickly, not lingering, but still looking. And he is used to the stares, years of experience have taught him and for all that he doesn't learn from his mistakes, he certainly learned from the first time he threw a fit at people looking, but still. It does hurt, no matter how much he tries to ignore it, to stuff it back down to where it belongs.

After all, it only takes one spark to cause an explosion.

But she doesn't say anything and he doesn't know if he should be relieved or offended. Sometimes, he only wants someone, literally anyone, to tell him that he is not disgusting, not torture to look at, that he is still worth something even when his family and whole nation thought he wasn't, but the fear of getting told the exact opposite nags at him and wears him down and forces him to keep his mouth shut and the words a mere fantasy.

(Again: coward.)

(He hopes she doesn't feel bad about her scars. She shouldn't.)

Katara looks at the dagger he is still fingering in his lap. "What's that?"

"A dagger."

"Obviously. I meant the words written there."

Oh. Very eloquent, Zuko.

"'Never give up without a fight'," he reads aloud. "My uncle sent me this when he was in Ba Sing Se." He doesn't mention what his uncle did there but he thinks she already knows. "And I think it's the best gift I've ever gotten from him. He was kinda tea obsessed, you know? So his gifts would always center around that. Little me had no appreciation for it."

"Was? I'm sorry," she offers, taking the dagger from his hands to study it herself. "It's a really pretty dagger, though."

Zuko sighs. "It's uh... it's a little complicated. I'm not really sure he is dead. He just... vanished. After Ba Sing Se. I don't know where he is or if he is still alive." And with that, he officially knows two people who have vanished into thin air. He hates that.

"I'm sorry," she repeats. Then: "Were you two close?"

He shrugs. "Not really. I mean, he was always nicer than my dad. And my mother and he always liked each other. And his son was one of my best friends growing up." One of his only friends, he doesn't say. "But he was almost never at the palace. He was always away in some war camp for some campaign in the Earth Kingdom so I didn't really get to know him."

Some part of him is relieved that he didn't really know his uncle. You can't miss what you never had. It hurts less this way. And he hates himself for sometimes wishing in the dark of night when his nightmares catch up with him and cloud his vision like dark storm clouds, that he knew his mother less, too. That he was like Azula, distant and cold. He'd save himself a lot of pain this way. But it's simply not him. Maybe he is meant to suffer.

He looks at Katara then and sees something flitting across her face. Some expression of understanding, of shared pain. He wonders what she is thinking about.

But she doesn't say anything and together, they stare up at the night sky.

He doesn't dare to ask.

—

"Have you ever wondered why it's socially acceptable to ask tall people to give short people something, but if a tall person would ask a short person to hand them something lying on the ground, it would be considered rude?"

"Sokka-"

"Do you maybe want to tell me something, Snoozles?"

"I'm just saying, it's not fair."

"Well, then here's another one - Appa can understand you but you can't understand Appa. Therefore, a sky bison is smarter than you."

"Hey, you can't outsmart this genius!" Sokka points with an index finger to his head and a glimmer in his eyes that tells Aang all he needs to know.

"Hell you can, Momo does it every day."

"Toph!"

"Guys... did you seriously drink that cactus juice stuff?"

"Maybe."

"TOPH!"

"It was Snoozle's idea! Not mine! And he drank more than me."

"It was so quenchy! It was the quenchiest! Now that I mention it, I do feel kind of different..."

"Oh, really, do you? Spirits, guys, can't you see that-"

"Nope."

"... and what the hell is up with Momo?"

"He might have drunk some drops, too."

"YOU DRUGGED MOMO?"

"Calm down, Twinkletoes. I think he's enjoying himself."

"If you consider flying around like a madman 'enjoying oneself', then yes, maybe. But Toph, Sokka, you can't just-"

Momo collides with Aang's forehead.

"OW! Oh, spirits, buddy, they're terrible people, I should have- no, come back!"

"Guess I was right."

"I... Sokka, what the hell are you doing?"

"There's a giant laser beam in the sky and it's beaaaaautiful! Has that always been there? Since when do we have a laser beam? Hey, do you think it's friendly? Can we fight the Fire Nation with it?"

Toph erupts into manic cackling while Aang looks more and more confused.

"Or wait... maybe it's a mushroom? It looks like one with all those dark spots and it's round and… and… FRIENDLY MUSHROOM!"

Aang slaps his hand against his forehead, leaving a red imprint, while Sokka continues drooling at the night sky.

"...maybe I can eat it..."

He needs someone sober to help him with these two - no, three. They drugged his pet. Out of all the things, he didn't think that would happen.

This is absurd. This is just… absurd. Why does he always find himself in absurd situations? It's not funny anymore.

Okay, maybe it is a little funny. But only a little. And he has to concentrate, he has things to do. Like take care of his friends, his friends who apparently have no survival instinct at all. And drugged Momo. Drugged. Momo.

Katara and Zuko. They're gonna be his saviors.

(At least he thinks they're not stupid enough to actually split a random cactus open and drink the juice contained inside. It could have been poison. Maybe it is poison. Maybe all his friends are gonna die of a drug overdose in the middle of this spirit-forsaken desert and the world will descend further into chaos because they wanted to get high.)

(He pushes the anxiety away and tries to concentrate.)

Or they would be his saviors if he'd be able to locate them - ah, there. Staring up at the moon like it's the friendly mushroom Sokka is also worshiping. Maybe they're high, too.

He sighs. He did not envision the day to end like this. Any day to end like this, really.

Regardless, he gets up to ask for help. Or to see if he has to babysit two more people.

—

"Okay, Toph, maybe you should try to sleep it off."

"No."

"You really should."

"No."

"But-"

"SPIRITS, YOU'RE WARM!"

"Uh... what are you doing?"

"Shut it, Sugar Queen."

"But I-"

"You're my heating pack now. A walking heating pack."

"Katara is warm? KATARA IS WARM!"

"Go away, Snoozles, she's my heating pack, not yours! I call dibs."

"You do realize I'm a person, right? You can't call-"

"Sssh. As far as I remember, heating packs don't talk."

Well. At least Toph is not trying to eat the moon.

—

Azula eyes her reflection in the mirror with growing disdain. She looks perfect, of course, not a hair out of place in her royal topknot with the golden flame. But still - something is wrong and she can't pinpoint what exactly. And it irks her.

Her skin is as white as china, smooth and flawless, and without any scars.

(She knows how fast that could change, though.)

Sometimes, when she looks close enough, she thinks she can see tiny cracks in the porcelain that is her skin, stretching around her face like a spider net. An imperfection. A flaw.

(Cracks in the empire.)

When she blinks, it's gone.

Her eyes are a bright amber, golden like the flames she used to wield, golden like the crown she will wear someday. But they are not Sozin's eyes. Sozin is said to have had bright golden eyes, yellow like a predator, yellow like Agni himself. Only his descendants have such eyes; they are a sign of strength. Father has such eyes. She - she does not.

Zuko had such eyes.

It has always angered her, although she'd never admit it. Why did he get blessed with those eyes as bright as the sun and she got - well, they're still bright, but not as bright. And that is what counts.

But no matter. Eye color does not determine strength, and Zuko is the best example of that. He's dead, anyway. It does not matter.

She looks away and out of her window, the moon illuminating the garden in silver light. It's a pretty sight, yes, she has to admit that - but she still prefers Agni's rays, always has, always will.

Her fingers glide over the smooth wood of her desk. She arrived in the capital this morning and Father only saw her this afternoon. Azula had crushed the fear threatening to build up inside her like a simple seashell with her pointed fingernails and faced him, bearing the unfortunate news that she was ambushed in the Earth Kingdom and forced to turn back.

The Fire Lord was not pleased, understandably. He left her kneeling on the floor for several minutes until her knees hurt, saying nothing, wanting to bask in her fear, deciding what to do with her. She kept a perfect posture because perfect is all she knows (not anymore). And then he turned her plan to resume the search down, saying instead that he needed her here for other matters. She did not understand him then and she does not understand him now - finding the Avatar, whose return was announced by the High Temple in the Caldera being filled with light, should be one of his priorities. Bad enough that apparently all significant elemental temples over the world lit up, practically shouting the Avatar's return to everyone willing to hear or rather see.

The Avatar gives people hope. That hope needs to be crushed. That hope is the last token of the resistance, as weak as that resistance is.

After all, it only takes one spark to cause an explosion.

Father assigned her to some colony project. As if her talents wouldn't be best used for something better. Like finding and capturing the Avatar currently running free somewhere in the Earth Kingdom. Granted, no one knows what he or she look like, and how it's even possible for them to return. Had they evaded death a century ago? How old are they now? Are they of Water Tribe heritage or from the Earth Kingdom? Them being from the Fire Nation would be very fortunate, but also highly unlikely. The Fire Sages have methods to locate him as a newborn within the islands and have given no indication of this happening, despite checking meticulously every year.

Water would be next in the cycle after air but why only show their face now? Why not before? Same goes for an Earth Avatar. Maybe the one from the Air Nomads miraculously survived all these years. Avatars could certainly live longer than a normal human being. But again - why now?

It doesn't make sense to her.

This is one thing that she and Father disagree on. He should be focusing all his attention on the Avatar - aside from the Water Tribes, the biggest threat to the nation, to the empire. But no - Father says he will send soldiers to comb through every area, from the Air Temples to the plains of the Earth Kingdom. As if that is enough.

And then he sends her to care for some colony.

Azula scoffs.

Granted, she should be glad that he wasn't more mad at her failure. (She knows what happens when he is displeased.)

And it is an important colony, probably the most important one, and one of the oldest and biggest ones. For all the Fire Nation's greatness, it is still an archipelago with many volcanoes and while that does have its advantages, it also has its economic drawbacks. They need the Earth Kingdom's resources if they want to continue their greatness. And Azula has no problem admitting that because she is a realist. The smartest people are the ones that look at all sides of the coin, not only the ones they want to see.

(Like Father, something traitorous whispers in her mind. She ignores it.)

"Precision, Azula," is what he had said. "I expect precision."

Or else is what he didn't say.

He doesn't need to. She knows just what he means. And that makes her different. She has always been different, she knows. Stronger, smarter, faster. Better.

She has to be.

She bears Father's love and not his hate.

She has to be strong.

A part of her screams and claws and bites. Why him, why not her, why, why, why-

Azula shoves it back into the deep dark pits of her mind, back to the shadows that seem to be growing longer and longer every day, trying to reach her with their sharp claws and traitorous whispers, trying to burn her with her own cold fire.

But she still can't forget how she felt as she watched Honored Father burn his weakling son's face off. How a part of her was scared. Frightened, horrified. At the fire. At Zuko's stupidity. At the way she wasn't even surprised. How part of her was jealous.

(He got to run off to the adventures he always wanted to have. She was stuck here, alone. Why him, why not her, why, why, why-)

But she is strong. Father chose her over Zuko. So she smiled. That was the only acceptable option then, and it is the only acceptable option now. Show no weakness. Never.

She has to.

For she bears Father's love.

Father's hate burns. But Father's love claws and tears until there is nothing left. It is sharp and rigged, deadly and venomous, demanding and conditional. It cuts and it takes, takes, takes.

(Father's love is worse than his hate, the same traitorous voice that she can't seem to shut up for long whispers again.)

(It scares her how that realization does not even surprise her.)

Chapter 15: Fourteen

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Something is wrong.

That is the first thing Toph realizes as she wakes up.

Something is wrong.

But she can't pinpoint what exactly. There are no suspicious sounds around her, no sensations other than those of her friends - so why are all her senses screaming at her?

She sits up.

Oh.

Oh.

That is the problem.

She feels weak, like she will collapse onto her bedroll any moment, and tired, despite getting a full night's rest on solid ground and not sand. They left the desert a few days ago and are now in the more temperate forests of the Earth Kingdom, thank the spirits.

(Or not thank the spirits, they did try to kill her friends after all. More like thank Appa.)

She coughs and her lungs make this really weird sound when she breathes and is that slime in there? It feels like slime. Well, guess that happens when you spend days breathing in air that is drier than Zuko's humor. Alternating between days that are so hot she can feel her sweat evaporate on the spot and nights where said sweat freezes into tiny icicles can't have been healthy.

She remembers this really bad cold she had a few years ago and it was awful. She couldn't properly breathe for about a week and was too weak to even walk or keep anything down. And this only gave her parents all the more reason to lock her inside because, in their minds, getting sick once (and being blind, obviously) automatically meant that she'd get sick everytime she so much as touched a leaf outside. Because that makes so much sense.

If they thought a little harder, they would have realized that maybe that was the consequence of always keeping her inside. But that would require thinking and beyond thinking that their only daughter was useless and helpless, they just simply weren't capable of it.

But anyway, Toph is sick and she hates it. And they don't even have Katara with her fancy healing anymore and Zuko and Aang are useless when it comes to that. So she is on her own. And she resolves that she will just ignore that stupid cold. It'll go away on its own, it's a cold for Oma and Shu's sake. It's gonna be fine.

It's Toph Beifong versus her own immune system and she is determined to win that fight. They don't call her champion for nothing.

—

Needle out. Pull. Needle in.

It's simple and Katara loves it. It's a distraction from the decidedly not simple matter of the whole spirit stuff they learned in the library and she definitely needs one, otherwise her head will explode, she is sure of that. Spontaneous human combustion is a thing, after all.

She breathes in the forest air. Forest. Not desert. Thank Tui and La, she hated that place, and not just because they all left with various degrees of sunburns. The spring air is warm and humid, not at all like the dry desert air, the birds around them sing their peaceful song, and the light gets filtered by the thick canopy overhead. Somewhere not far from camp, she can hear a stream.

For a moment, she just sits there with her eyes closed, leaning against a napping Appa, taking in the peaceful moment. The Earth Kingdom is quite beautiful and it's the small, peaceful moments that matter.

(Something she neglected since she woke up on that beach.)

Zuko and Sokka are off hunting and male bonding as her brother called it (and trying to train Momo to scout for prey, however that's supposed to work), Toph and Aang are earthbending and Katara is doing chores. Maybe she should resent that role, the typical feminine role, but she doesn't. It gives her something to do, something to fix. She has never been good at sitting still, and well, someone has to sew all these shirts. Sokka doesn't even know how to pick up thread and needle, Aang doesn't either, Toph can't and won't, and Zuko's sewing is... not great.

So she does it instead, and she doesn't mind. It's peaceful.

Except that that peace is currently interrupted by someone screaming her name.

Katara opens her eyes, puts away the shirt in her lap, and stands. Between the trees, she sees Aang making his way to her on fast feet, carrying someone in his arms - Toph? Why is he carrying Toph?

She'd think that maybe he accidentally hit her with a boulder but Toph is miles out of his league so that is definitely not what happened. So what did?

She hurries over to him as he reaches the edge of their camp. "What happened?"

His eyes are wide and big and full of worry. "I don't know!" he hastily exclaims. "She just collapsed! She's been acting weird all morning and then suddenly she starts to get this coughing fit and collapses and-"

As if on cue, the still conscious Toph coughs. And if that isn't one nasty cough, then Katara doesn't know what is.

"It's fine," Toph says, although her pained expression belies her words. "I'm fine."

"You are obviously not fine," she tells her and helps Aang to carry her to her bedroll. "That cough sounds like you've been out in a blizzard naked." And she did, in fact, hear this cough once on her idiot brother after he lost a bet and stood in the snow naked for an hour. How he isn't dead yet? She has no idea.

"Well, I haven't, so..." Toph tries to sit up, but Katara pushes her back down while Aang anxiously kneels beside them, nervously fiddling with the edge of his sleeves. "Since when have you been feeling this way?"

"Since this" - cough - "morning."

"And you haven't told anyone?"

"Didn't think it was important."

"Of course it is important!" she and Aang exclaim at the same time. "Your health matters," Katara tells her in the voice she always used for especially stubborn patients back home when she was in the process of learning healing.

"And besides," Aang adds, "you always say that I need more practice in earthbending. But I can't train if my sifu is sick."

Toph doesn't say anything to that for a moment, then coughs. "Fair point, I guess," she reluctantly admits after a moment. "But it's not like we can do anything about it. Sugar Queen's lost her magic water and you're useless with healing, Twinkletoes." Out of the corner of her eye, Katara sees him wince at that. "Otherwise, we wouldn't all be suffering from these awful sunburns." Her nose tickles at that, reminding her of the burned skin there.

"I'll see what I can do," Katara says, even though she is not sure just what she can actually do. Toph has a point. And they don't know if there is a village nearby to get any medicine.

She goes through the familiar motions anyway, simply because it's something. It's a simple cold Toph must have picked up because of the rapid changes in temperature in the desert and because her body is weakened by her sunburn, but even a simple cold could be fatal if not treated correctly. They can't afford to lose the Avatar's earthbending teacher.

(They can't afford to lose Toph.)

If she'd still have her waterbending, she'd coat her hand in water now and go over the chi paths where the illness disrupts the flow of chi. Injuries were always easier to heal than diseases but even for those, a great deal could be done.

Feeling a little stupid, Katara closes her eyes and goes over the places where she knows the chi paths are in Toph's body. She is pretty sure it won't do anything since she won't be able to feel them without her water, but she doesn't know what else to do.

Focus.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Concentrate.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

She imagines the flow of chi in Toph's body, like a calm river, steadily running and swelling and passing through her veins and into her heart, into her brain, into the individual organs, mixing with her blood.

She imagines her heart beating and pumping in a steady motion, just like an earthbender.

Everything else falls away.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Focus.

Concentrate.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

And then Katara feels it. She can actually feel the chi moving through Toph's body, not steadily like a river but clogged up in several places and moving too fast or too slow in others.

This is the sickness.

She can actually feel the sickness.

She doesn't question how, only focuses further on her breathing and the sensation underneath her hands.

She doesn't have her water but she has something else.

Warmth starts emitting from her hands, not enough to burn, but enough to be comforting and gentle. Give life, something whispers in her mind, not take it.

So she does.

Slowly, she starts running her hands along the chi paths, dwelling in places where it's disrupted and clogged, hovering over Toph's skin but not quite touching. Something tucks at her essence and she obeys, lets it fill her with warmth and gentle heat, like the rays of the sun on a warm spring day.

Energy, her mind supplies.

She can sense Toph's natural body heat and uses it to guide it along the pathways, flushing out the sickness, repairing the damage.

It feels eerily similar to healing with water. It's like she is connected with Toph, like they are one.

Katara doesn't know how long she does this but when she can't feel any more disruptions and the chi flows evenly again, she opens her eyes and slowly takes her hands away.

Aang is staring at her with wide eyes and Toph's expression looks just as stunned.

"Okay, just what... what was that?"

Katara ignores his question. "How are you?"

Toph sits up slowly, stares into nothingness for a moment, then touches both of her arms in wonder. "I feel... I feel good. I think." She sits up further. "Yeah. I feel... better. Definitely better. Warm. But in a good way. And like you were... connected to me? In some way? Kinda like when you healed me back in the swamp but also different." Katara has never heard her that confused, and she laughs, looking at her hands in equal wonder.

"Fire Healing," Aang guesses because well, that is just exactly what she did.

"Yeah," she says. "I guess that's it."

Who knew that was a thing?

—

"So you just... ran your hands along the chi paths and... did what exactly?"

Zuko is still trying to wrap his mind around it. Katara used fire to heal Toph. Fire. Used it for healing.

He's never heard something more ridiculous. But apparently, it's not that ridiculous at all.

How?

"I don't really know," Katara answers with a shrug. "I just imagined the flow of chi and then I kinda connected with Toph? And then there was this heat but in a good way. Aang said that my hands were on fire but I didn't use it to burn. I used it to flush out the sickness and repair the damaged chi. I can't really explain it. It's like healing with waterbending but at the same time, totally different."

He sat her down just outside camp to drag every last detail out of her. The light of the sinking sun gets filtered by the thick canopy of the trees and makes the shadows appear longer than they really are.

Healing. With firebending. Healing with firebending. Fire Healing. Healing with fire.

No matter how many times he spells it out in his head, he still fails to grasp the threads and connect them in an order that makes sense. Because this all doesn't make sense. Fire is used for destruction and death. Not for giving or restoring life. He's always had a complicated relationship with fire, ranging from his initial fear of it after that Agni-forsaken Agni Kai (the irony) to his respect for it that never wavered, no matter what. Fire is dangerous. You don't play with fire and get away unharmed. He learned that lesson the hard way. Fire is hated all over the world for its destructive properties and he knows this. He accepts this. Because his nation is the one spreading death and not greatness like they claim. Despite all this, he could never hate his own element. But using it to heal... that is too far.

But this is good.

If fire could be used for something other than killing and simply burning... then that was good. Is good.

He sees so many new possibilities before his inner eye. Possibilities that he of course can't grasp because he is not a firebender anymore but still...

"I can see the wheels in your head turning." Katara's voice brings him out of his thoughts and back into reality. He blinks and sees her head slightly angled to the side, studying him.

He clears his throat. "Well, I... I don't really know what to think." Which is a lie because he does know, it's just too complicated, too much, to put into words. "It's a lot."

"Yeah, I get that." She looks at the hands lying in her lap. "All my life, fire was something bad. And then the spirits decided to play a cruel joke and make me a firebender. And now I can heal with it..." He doesn't need to follow her gaze to know that she is looking at her scarred hands. She could have prevented them had she figured it out sooner. But then again, the fact that she has figured it out at all - and to his knowledge, no one else has done so - is something to be proud of.

"You shouldn't blame yourself," he tells her because now he is the one seeing the wheels in her head spin. "As far as I know, no one else has ever used fire to heal before. Otherwise, it wouldn't have the reputation that it has. And even if - you figured this out all by yourself. You should be proud of yourself." He leans forward and puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezes lightly in reassurance. She looks up with a shy smile and a glimmer in her eyes.

"Thank you."

Those two words seem to be said a lot lately between the two of them. He doesn't know how to feel about that, only that it's not... bad. No, it's not bad at all.

It's comforting.

They're both in the same boat.

He clears his throat again. "So... chi paths, huh? Care to explain to me where they are?"

Katara nods and slides forward so that her knees touch his. Where before the touch might have been awkward, now it's not. Now it's calming, reassuring. She takes the hand still grasping her shoulder and stretches his arm out, holding onto his wrist with one hand and tracing a path with the index finger of the other on the naked skin.

"I don't know that much about chi, to be honest," she admits. "If you'd ask Aang, he could likely tell you all about it. But it's connected to our bending and wellbeing and therefore, our health." Her touch is light and tingles in a way he hasn't fully worked out how to feel about by the time she continues. "If the chi is disrupted, whether by external or internal forces, our bending gets weaker and our mind and body suffers. When I healed Toph, her chi was clogged and flowing too slow or too fast in certain places."

She has explained this to him and Aang before, back when she tried to teach them how to heal with waterbending (even if she definitely wasn't as friendly back then). Nevertheless, Zuko listens with attentive ears as her voice gets calmer and calmer, almost like she's going into a meditative state. Her finger goes over his shoulder, over his collarbone, to his other shoulder, and down his arm.

"This chi flows on certain paths through our body. Aang's tattoos aren't just to honor the sky bison. They are also there to highlight the chi paths."

He can feel his own eyelids becoming heavier, mesmerized by her light touch and even, calming voice, and obeys. His heart beats steadily in his chest, his breaths are even and controlled.

Katara had touched him before but this, the tender way her fingertips trace patterns onto his skin, lingering a little too long in places and leaving him with a tingling sensation he can't quite name is... different. This is different.

"Chi is like flowing water. All the pathways connect and unite the body; every heartbeat produces a tide. It's all one big network."

Her finger's journey ends on his chest and he catches her blue eyes as he opens his own, perhaps for a second too long, her hand still resting on his chest.

"Sparky, I know you're scared of trees, but that won't get you out of getting your ass kicked by me!"

And the moment is broken as Toph stomps over to them, already cracking her knuckles in preparation. Well, at least she's definitely back to a hundred percent now if she remembers that joke. He'd have to have a word with Sokka about it.

—

The music is loud and so different from the quiet of nature he'd grown accustomed to over the past few months. It's not bad, however, and Sokka finds himself enjoying the sight of the many stalls and the sound of the loud music and especially the spices. The spices, Tui and La. There are so many of them and all are different and he can't wait to try them all. He is Water Tribe through and through, and that means enjoying food others would call bland and way too salty, but he'd be lying if he wasn't curious. The Earth Kingdom certainly has some interesting dishes but the Fire Nation is a whole other caliber.

He takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the foreign and exotic aroma lying in the air. When he opens them, all he sees is red. Well, and a bit of green in-between because they're still in the Earth Kingdom, but mostly red. He'd say he hates the color but he finds that he really doesn't. There's a certain charm to it.

They're in some village to get supplies, one of the last they'll be in in the Earth Kingdom before they cross over to enemy territory, and apparently, some kind of festival is happening today. The Fire Day Festival, Zuko had explained, celebrated to honor the day the first colony, Yu Dao in the Northwestern Earth Kingdom, was founded. Typical that the Fire Nation would celebrate that and force everyone else to do as well. At least the food is good and the vendors are more likely to haggle down the price to 'honor the spirit of the festival'. Whatever that means, but he's heard it several times today.

Not that he feels comfortable amid Fire Nationals as a water tribesman in company of the disgraced prince of said nation and the Avatar, public enemy number one, himself. Bad idea, his mind supplies, very bad idea.

Thank Tui that he is not alone with that thought. Zuko and Katara had been just as wary and Aang and Toph... well, there's a reason you don't go to those two if you want to propose a safe and sound plan.

But now that he is here, he finds no reason to not make the best of it and try to enjoy himself. While keeping an eye out for trouble, of course.

And as much as he doesn't like the Fire Nation, they sure know how to throw a party. The food is good, the smells are delicious, the whole marketplace looks wonderful, and some guys use their firebending for truly spectacular displays. Ceremonial Firebending, as Zuko had called it. The thought that one could use firebending for something other than to burn villages down and apparently heal had never entered his mind before. He'd seen plenty of shows organized by waterbenders back home, whose only purpose was to show off their skills and amuse the viewers, but he'd never thought that one could do the same with fire. Apparently, one can. And it looks amazing.

Plus, he'll have to get used to this if he's planning on spending the foreseeable future in the Fire Nation. They all will.

Sokka comes to a stop in front of a vendor selling...

"Fire flakes, Mister?"

"Uhhh..."

"Regular or extra strength?"

"Uhhh..."

"One regular and one extra strength, please." Zuko appears by his side and hands the vendor the money before grabbing two different packs of fire flakes. He hands Sokka one. "They're fantastic, trust me," Zuko tells him before digging into his own pack and closing his eyes in seemingly bliss for a second.

Sokka shrugs and does the same and... spits them right out again.

"How in La's name can you eat that stuff?"

His whole mouth is on fire and he searches for the water skin in his bag before he starts breathing fire. As cool as dragons are, he does not want to be one himself.

Zuko fixes him with a look.

"Oh, right. I forgot you Fire Nationals fried your brain. That certainly explains a lot."

"I can take them if you don't want them. I haven't eaten those in years." Zuko looks at his bag with a little too much longing for Sokka's taste.

"Nope." He takes a step back to protect his food. "It's fine." Because food is food. Matter of principle. Plus, they're not actually that bad if he eats one at a time and not a whole handful like Mister fireflake-expert over there.

Zuko crooks an eyebrow. "You sure?" And then gets a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Want to try some of mine?" The extra strength version because apparently, it can get even hotter than the ones Sokka currently has. He is halfway through shaking his head as he catches the smirk the ex-firebender gives him and decides differently. Oh, he is not one to shy away from a challenge.

"I bet you have to stop after three."

"Oh, you're on!"

Which is how Sokka finds himself sitting on a bench at a calmer spot with his mouth hanging open to let cool air in like some polar bear dog and chucking water in regular intervals. Zuko, that bastard.

And of course his sister has to find him in this exact moment, as if the whole thing isn't embarrassing enough.

She crooks an eyebrow, much the same as the one who brought him into this situation did, and sits down opposite of him.

"That bad?"

"That bad."

She chuckles and takes the water skin from him to take a sip. "You know, you could have just said no."

He gives her a look. "It was food. Saying no was not an option." Even if his mouth pays the price for it.

She sighs, but there's no malice behind it. "Typical."

They sit in silence for a few moments, eyeing the red crowd, wind ruffling their hair. "It's actually not that bad," Katara says at last. He turns his head toward her.

"This festival," she explains. "I thought it would be awful to watch because, well, Fire Nation and all, but it's actually not. It's actually pretty fun." She doesn't have to say how weird she feels now that she is actually a firebender herself, Sokka understands. Sibling telepathy.

He agrees with her. The Fire Nation isn't bad in all aspects.

"I never actually apologized," Katara continues after another moment of silence, voice less cheerful now. She looks down at her lap, as if she were ashamed. He furrows his brow.

"For what I said in the swamp. For our fight there. It was... pretty bad."

Oh.

That.

It seems so long ago now when it actually isn't. They didn't talk about it. They didn't talk at all to each other for a while after that but gradually fell into easy conversation again. They both didn't want to fight and hurt the other. And they were siblings - it would take more than a simple fight to break them up. But still. They haven't talked about it.

"Look, I..." he begins. "I was worried about you. Still am. The Water Tribes have certain ideas that I don't agree with. And I was scared that you'd go down the same path because-"

"Because they're not right," Katara cuts him off, looking him directly into the eye. "I know, I… I know. And being here..." She looks around. "Maybe not everything about the Fire Nation is bad. Maybe not everything about the Earth Kingdom is bad. They didn't help us back then when the war first started but we didn't either. We closed ourselves off and started resenting the outside world ever since."

And he doesn't know what to say to that because yes. Yes, this is exactly what he wanted her to see. He is so proud of her, his little baby sister (who could and would kick his ass, regardless).

"I didn't want to imply that you were a monster. You know, back then." Because that definitely stung, even as he said it. And her expression and the way she closed herself off from everyone around her, and most importantly, from him, her brother, hurt even worse. But now she is smiling at him, actually smiling at him, and not closing herself off and erecting the walls. Progress.

"I know. And I deserved it. I mean, I still think the swamp benders should fight back. And I still think we should fight the Fire Nation for obvious reasons, but maybe not everything that Tulek says is right. And it's not treason to think that. I still want what's best for the Water Tribes."

"So do I."

"But Sokka... you remember when Zuko, Toph and I went to this village, back at the Eastern Air Temple?"

He nods.

"Apparently, the village we were in was raided... by Water Tribe warriors. And we're not very popular outside the poles right now." Oh. That. "Did you know about this?"

Sokka swallows. Hard. Because yes, he did. And he found it kinder to not tell his little sister.

"Yes," he reluctantly says and nods. "Yes, I did."

Katara only looks at him for a second. Then: "Did you ever participate in one?"

"No!" He shakes his head. "No, I never did! They're wrong, they're... not right. We should buy from the Earth Kingdom, not raid it. Whenever I was there and we were in disguise, we always bought our stuff. Really."

She releases a tense breath. "Okay. Good. I believe you. It's just..."

"Hard to believe? Yeah, I get that. When I first heard of it, I didn't want to either. I tried convincing them that we should stop and that it wouldn't help our relationship with the Earth Kingdom but well... looks like I didn't have that much influence."

"It's not your fault. You tried. But why did you never tell me?"

"Because you're my little sister and I wanted to protect you and keep you as far away from the horrors as possible."

"Then why didn't you tell me in the swamp? You could have used that to sway me to your side."

"It would have seemed cheap," he says. "I'm not sure if you would have believed me at that point."

She doesn't say anything for a second, staring off into the distance, deep in thought. Then she nods. "Yeah, probably. I needed to see it for myself."

"So... we're good?" Sokka asks after a silent moment.

Katara smiles back at him.

"Yeah, we're good."

She reaches out to grasp his hand and just for a moment, all is right with the world.

—

Zuko aimlessly wanders around the decorated marketplace, taking in the displays of ceremonial firebending, the countless stalls with vendors trying to catch the people's attention, the red and gold lanterns everywhere, engraved with characters for good luck and fortune, while a strong sense of nostalgia hits him. He smells the scent of the spices lying in the air and closes his eyes for a second, hearing the bustle of the happy people around him. Just for a moment, he is back at the Caldera, visiting the Fire Day Festival with his mother and sister.

His mother used to take him and Azula every year and never missed one. They'd run around, watch the shows, try various kinds of food. Even Azula would enjoy herself. Back then, times were simpler. And then everything changed.

He opens his eyes. This is not a place to dwell on bad memories. Today he only allows the good ones.

His feet carry him from stall to stall, trying various foods he hasn't eaten in ages. He hasn't had any Fire Nation cuisine since stranding in the Earth Kingdom and while he was on his ship, Earth Kingdom food was always easier to get. The food here isn't as good as in the Caldera, but it will do.

Soon, they'll be in the real Fire Nation. He doesn't know how to feel about that.

Zuko comes to a stop in front of a bunch of kids watching a puppet show. It's about the great tales of the hero Ozai because of course it is. Before disdain can build up in him he turns away, not willing to deal with that right now. He'll have too soon enough.

A poster catches his eye.

A wanted poster. For Toph Beifong, heiress to the Beifong wealth and missing with a considerate price to bring her back unharmed to her parents.

He rips it off the wall, warily glancing around.

Toph. He has to find Toph.

He hurries through the marketplace, through the crowds of people clad in red and green enjoying the festival, and finally reaches Aang watching a firebending show on display.

"Hey Zuko, do you think you could teach me how to do that?"

He ignores the question. "Have you seen Toph?"

"Uh, no, why? I'm sure she's around here somewhere."

Zuko holds up the poster and watches as Aang's eyes widen. "Oh. That is... not good."

Understatement.

"I mean, she can't be far, right?"

Well, he hopes she isn't. Suddenly, the crowd feels suffocating, the bustle of the people is too loud and the smells too heavy, sucking the air out of his lungs.

They hastily wander around the marketplace. Several times they catch a glimpse of a small figure clad in green with black hair, but it's never Toph, always someone else. Fuck. He can feel the panic swell in his chest.

At last, they find Sokka and Katara sitting on a bench on the outskirts of the marketplace, quietly talking to each other. They glance up as Aang and Zuko arrive panting, more out of stress than exhaustion.

"Is something wrong?" Katara asks with furrowed brows. Then forms a silent 'O' with her mouth as Zuko holds the poster up once again.

"We haven't seen her," Sokka supplies. "Do you think...?"

"We've searched the whole marketplace," Zuko answers. "We haven't found her."

Fuck.

They should have been more attentive. They should have stayed together. They shouldn't have come here at all.

Where is Toph?

—

So. This is definitely not how she planned to spend the festival.

She'd been walking around the stalls, getting some food, eavesdropping on some juicy gossip from random people, enjoying the textures of various carpets and clothes and what-not, keeping track of everyone with her feet, and then suddenly she'd been paralyzed and dragged away before being tied up and hoisted on some very weird form of transportation. Is that an animal?

Safe to say, Toph is not having a good day.

Whatever poison that woman injected her with, it's still in her system, rendering her completely helpless. She can't feel anything of her body except for her mouth and eyes. At least her tongue still works, so she can insult her kidnapper. Maybe verbal torture can get her out of this.

Toph is not stuck with that weird lady. That weird lady is stuck with her.

Good old Earth Kingdom mindset.

"So, Chemistry-Weirdo, do you get a kick out of abducting random teenage girls?"

"Careful there, if I'd be a man, the answer could be yes," comes the reply, and that woman even has the audacity to sound amused. Well, maybe whatever this was wouldn't get so boring if she'd at least have someone to talk to. At least until her friends rescue her. Because they will, she is sure of that.

(She hates the fact that she has to be rescued. Toph Beifong is not one to be rescued, she is not a damsel in distress. She is Toph.)

And well, maybe she is lucky that her kidnapper isn't some creepy old man. Over the years, she's heard stories of what sometimes happens to girls in dark alleys whenever she snuck out of the estate. Of course people had been worried that the same thing would happen to her. That worry typically only lasted until they saw her fight.

But now she can't fight. Now she can't even feel her body. She is on some kind of animal and has no connection to the ground; she has no idea where she is and how far she is from her friends. And even if the poison eventually leaves her system - it has to, right? How long does that last anyway? - she is tied up. And that rope and the knots are good. That lady clearly knows what she is doing. Toph hates to admit this but... functioning eyes really would be an advantage here.

"Are you some kind of bounty hunter or something?" Because that is the only explanation she can come up with.

A chuckle. "You're a fast one."

She snorts. "My parents sent 'ya, didn't they?"

"Well, not me, specifically. But I saw the posters. And whatever amateurs they did send after you clearly aren't doing their job. Got a pretty hefty sum on your head, kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"That's what all kids say." The lady doesn't sound annoyed in the least. Toph doesn't dignify that with a response, instead focuses on a more important topic.

"How about we make a deal: you let me go, right now, and I spare your head when the poison eventually does wear off. Saves us all a lot of trouble." She knows the bargain is weak but damnit, there has to be something. Even if this doesn't work - and it won't, she knows that, she's not stupid and she grew up in a merchants house, she knows how deals work -, she refuses to just quietly comply. Making threats until the others figure out where she is is the least she can do, if only to keep her own sanity intact.

"Nah, the money will last me longer."

"Not if I kill you first, it won't." Toph doesn't necessarily like killing and it's not like she's ever done it before but... she also doesn't hate it. She would consider it. If it would save her own life.

"And how do you think it will come to that? Wherever the poison currently in your system comes from, there's more. You can trust me on that."

"Oh, so you rely purely on that to get your bounties in? That's a pretty weak bounty hunter. I could kick your ass with my hands tied behind my back."

"Work smarter, not harder. And I doubt that, considering that you do currently have your hands tied behind your back."

"Set me on the ground and we'll find out." Not everyone knows of her ability. Maybe, if she could aggravate that lady enough...

A snort. "Oh no, you'll stay where you are. I'm not one of the best bounty hunters in the Earth Kingdom for nothing."

Well. It was worth a try.

And maybe she should play the scared little girl. Maybe that would give her an opportunity to slip through the woman's defenses. But dammit if this situation doesn't piss her off and makes her want to be the opposite of a scared little girl.

"What is this thing anyway we're riding? Seems weird."

"A shirshu. One of the fastest creatures in the world. We'll be in Gaoling in no time."

And if that doesn't send her into a panic attack, nothing will.

Hold it together. Hold it. Together. Hold. It. Together.

Gaoling. Back to her parents. Back to her stuffy teachers and the stuffy nobles. Back to her prison.

And she doesn't even want to know what her parents will do with her once she gets back. She ran away, they're bound to be pissed. They'll watch her 24/7, lock her in a wooden cage or something...

She can't breathe.

Toph tries wiggling to slip off the shirshu. If she could just reach the ground, she could shoot her kidnapper and that stupid animal into oblivion, but she is stuck. Bound to the saddle, just behind Poison-Creeper.

She is stuck. And there's no way she'll get out without the others because Shirshu-Freak over there certainly doesn't seem like she'll lower her guard soon.

Well. Fuck.

—

Gaoling. That's where Toph has to be. That's the only place that makes sense.

Aang clutches the reins in his hands so tightly that he feels his nails biting into the sensitive skin of his palms. He doesn't care.

This is his fault. He wanted to go to that stupid festival. Without him, Toph wouldn't have been kidnapped.

This is his fault.

The wind ruffles his hair as he leans forward, peeking out onto the street below. Gaoling is south-west of the village they just came from and there are only so many roads leading in that direction. Toph has to be there somewhere. And she and her abductor have to make camp somewhere. Right?

He hears the others behind him mutter in low tones while also keeping watch. They had searched the marketplace again and then the rest of the town, asked people if they'd seen a girl like Toph, and then grabbed Appa and started searching in the air. But they don't know how much time they've already lost.

They gotta get her back. They have to. Toph is... Toph is Toph. Without her, the group is not complete.

"Hey."

A hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly, emitting bodily warmth. Sokka.

"This isn't your fault."

Yes, yes it is.

"You didn't know it would come to that. This is no one's fault. And we'll get her back. We have Appa."

Aang's breathing calms down, if only slightly.

Yes. They have Appa. They have the luxury of watching from the sky. They'll get her back.

(A dark part of him - a part that has been only growing ever since he opened his eyes after a hundred years of sleep - says otherwise.)

—

They don't end up finding her. Four days pass, all of which are spent on the lookout for Toph, but nothing. They pass a few travelers but no one has seen her or someone who might be transporting someone against their will.

Nothing.

Appa has to take breaks. They have to lay low because of the occasional Fire Nation soldiers. They can't spend the entire time flying.

It's aggravating. Four days spent with doubts inside their heads, manifesting themselves into thick mist that clouds every try at rational thought.

What if Toph isn't taken back to Gaoling? What if she is somewhere else? The Earth Kingdom is big. What if she... no, Toph is strong.

The group is not the same without her. None of them realized that before she was actually gone. Everyone is tired, everyone is worrying. The food doesn't taste the same, the conversation isn't the same - nothing is. Everything is different without Toph. And everyone is blaming themselves.

When they eventually reach Gaoling in record time, considering the distance, everyone's nerves are on edge from the constant anxiety of the past few days. Just a week ago, everything was fine. Now it's not.

But the Beifong estate isn't hard to find. Maybe they have a chance.

—

They actually built her a wooden prison. Her parents actually built a prison for her.

She's no expert on parenting 101, but she's pretty sure that's not how you do it.

Granted, it's more of a room made out of wood. But it's a prison all the same to her.

The room is big, has all the necessities in it from her old room, a door leading to the bathroom - which, shocker, is also made out of wood -, and no windows. There's also a maid 24/7 with her now because apparently, privacy is a privilege she no longer has access to.

Toph thought she's had bad days before. She was so, so wrong.

Shirshu-Freak - Jun, she'd overheard - had delivered her to her parents just a few hours ago, all the while keeping Toph paralyzed as she'd done for the past few - three? - days. Whatever that Shirshu thing is, it is fast. The poison is wearing off now, thank the spirits, but she feels sick. Not being able to feel your body for the majority of three days while being tied to the uncomfortable back of an animal with no contact to the ground at all will do that to you, she reckons.

Spirits, she can consider herself lucky if her parents don't adapt that poison idea and keep her sedated 24/7.

(A small part in her mind tells her - no, begs her to not believe that. Her parents wouldn't do that. Her parents aren't monsters. But then again - would she really need to beg if she'd truly believe that? They hunted her down and locked her in a prison specifically made for her.)

Her father hasn't talked to her. She heard him nearby and felt his looming presence but he hasn't said a word to Toph herself - his property, to be hunted down, she thinks with disgust. Her mother hasn't either but she's pretty sure she'll cave and come talk to her, more sooner than later. It's Mother, after all.

And what happens now? Now she'll be a prisoner in her own home - more so than how she was before. Her parents actually know of her ability now, otherwise Shirshu-Freak wouldn't have been so cautious. Toph hates to admit it, but Jun is a competent bounty hunter. She resolves to only kick her ass the next time they'll meet, not outright kill her.

Assuming that she'll ever get out of here. But she will. Her will is not broken and never will be, no matter how hard her parents try. She is not some stuffy lady, only to be seen and not heard. She is Toph Beifong. She is strong. She will get through this, no matter how hard it is. She will endure.

(She is a boulder, strong and durable. She is a mountain, tall and unmovable. She is a tree, sturdy and proud.)

Her friends will come after her. Of course they will. They'll figure out that she's in Gaoling, she told them herself of how awful her parents are. It's only a matter of days. If Toph can't free herself, she'll wait for them to break her out. Her parents are no match against the Avatar and his teachers, hell - she is one of his teachers. That deserves respect.

But not in her parent's eyes apparently. Their ideas of who to grant respect to vastly differ.

And she is sorry for leaving them like that. She truly is. She doesn't even want to imagine how it feels to find your only kid gone with no trace as to where they went. Especially if you think your daughter is blind and helpless and fragile, delicate like the flowers her mother grows in her garden.

But seriously - they had it coming. She didn't want to marry into that stupid family whose name she already banned from her memory. She doesn't want to be something she is not. It sucks for her parents, yes, but what right do they have to control her like that? It's her life. And if they'd actually listened, Toph is sure they could have worked something out. Their relationship wouldn't have to be so bad.

Footsteps in the hall. Her ears perk up. Toph may not feel or sense anything right now, but her hearing is as good as ever. They're light and almost a bit hesitant. Mother.

Well, the only good thing about that is that she could always talk better to Mother than to Father. But ten times zero still equals zero.

The door opens and she doesn't bother looking in the direction from where she's sitting with crossed legs and arms on the bed like a petulant child. Maybe she is. She doesn't care. Quiet words are being exchanged between her mother and the maid somewhere in the corner who she can feel staring at her like some creep, and then footsteps again before the door is closed.

She assumes she is now alone with her mother. Toph takes a deep breath to steel herself for what's to come.

Except that it doesn't. Her mother doesn't say or do anything, and Toph guesses she is still standing by that same spot at the door, staring at her. Why does everyone feel the need to stare at her?

After a few quiet moments, Toph gets tired of waiting and decides to move the rock herself and get straight to the point. "So. You hunted me down with a bounty hunter."

"Toph, dear, I am sorry for how that crude woman handled you. You deserve better." She steps near and then Toph can feel her hands on her face, holding her head, thumbs stroking over her cheeks in what she thinks is supposed to be a soothing motion.

"Oh, Toph. My delicate flower, my-"

Okay, wow, she wants to throw up. She leans back so that her mother has no choice but to let her face go.

"I am not a delicate flower, Mother. I don't need any help and I can take care of myself just fine, otherwise I wouldn't be here without any injuries."

"You'll always be my flower, little one."

There was a time, when she was little and the world was simpler, where she liked that flowery-speech. Where she was comforted by it. That time, however, is over.

"I am not your flower! Mom, please. This isn't a life for me and you know that. I'm not like you or Dad, I'm different, so please just let me go."

And if her voice comes out a little more choked than intended and if her words sound more like begging than anything else, then that only helps her case.

"I want you safe!" Her mother's voice rises. It's not like her to yell except only in very special situations. This counts as one, she supposes. "You are my only daughter and you are blind. I don't care if you can earthbend, I just want you where I can keep you safe! Is that so hard to understand?"

"If you build a prison for me to keep me 'safe', then yes! This is not how I want to live my life, Mom. What right do you and Dad have to lock me in and keep me like someone you're ashamed of?" She can feel pressure at the back of her throat and uncomfortable heat behind her eyes. All the feelings about her parents she's tried for so long to just ignore come rushing back to her now.

For one quiet moment, no one says anything. A beat. Two. Then:

"We're not ashamed of you, Toph."

She snorts. She doesn't need her feet to tell if someone is lying and spirits does she wish she was wrong.

"Oh, you do. Otherwise you wouldn't keep me away from the world and marry me off as soon as you can to get me out of the house," Toph sneers and doesn't feel sorry in the slightest.

"Toph, no, that is not-"

"Of course it is," she cuts her off. "That's exactly what is happening here. Look, I know you think I'll break at the first hardship. But guess what? I traveled through most of the Earth Kingdom and I am fine. Not even a scratch!" She conveniently does not mention that time in the swamp, and even if - she was fine afterward. She can handle it. "I can take care of myself just fine. I know I'm not what you wanted," she continues, calmer now. "And I am sorry for that. I know you wanted some obedient housewife but I am not that. It sucks for you, I know" - and she ignores the sharp inhale of breath at the oh so crude curse - "but I can't change it. You're just gonna have to live with that. Plus, there is a war going on right now. I gotta do my part."

"The war is not of your concern."

"Of course it is! It's everyone's concern. I know you make deals with the Fire Nation but wouldn't the Earth Kingdom be so much better off without the ashmakers? Mother, I really don't need to be handled like porcelain. I can endure. I'm an earthbender, it's what we do. Just trust me on this, okay? Please, just trust me this one time. I am your daughter. I'm not your little girl, but I'm still your daughter and that has to mean something. Keeping me locked up and marrying me off to someone I don't even know or like is not a life for me. I know you wouldn't want that for me."

Silence.

She wishes she could see her mother's face right now, if only to see if the words have struck a chord. But guessing from the lack of a response, they have.

And she means it. Toph means everything she just said. Her mother is still her mother and she'll always love her but spirits, if she really doesn't see that keeping her prisoner is not a form of love, then she'll have no choice but to cut ties with her completely. It's for her own good, for her own sanity. She'd hate to make that choice, but she will.

Please, Mother, listen. If you've never listened to me before, just do it this once.

A beat. Two. Three. Then:

"I am sorry, Toph. But no. I'm not about to risk your life just so you can go on your little adventures. I'd rather have you hate me than know you're not safe. I'm sorry." And her voice is colder now, more resolved.

Toph snorts without any mirth. "No, you're not. Otherwise you wouldn't do this. This isn't love, Mom! Why can't you see that?"

"It is, my dear, it is. You just don't see that yet. You'll see what I mean when you're a mother one day."

Footsteps. A door is being opened. Footsteps. A door is being closed. Footsteps and the sound of the maid in the room.

"No, I won't!" She doesn't care how petulant she sounds because she'll never understand this toxic form of love. And she'll never have kids and if she does, she'll never lock them up, never force them to do anything. This isn't a life worth living, it just... isn't.

She thought that maybe her mother would understand - Toph knows her marriage to Father wasn't always flowers and rainbows. She'd been honest with her about her feelings, more honest than she had been in years with her mother. And her mother had used that opportunity to slam the door in her face.

Maybe it's her own fault. Maybe she should have known better.

(Maybe not only Father had the idea of a wooden prison.)

Safe. Hah. As if that means anything in this world. She'd rather risk her life doing something, helping, than sit around and be safe.

She can't stand it. It's like her body itches all over and she can't scratch it. It's infuriating, maddening. She'll go insane. She knows it like she knows the earth under her feet. She'll go insane and it will be her parent's fault.

Spirits, does she miss just breathing air. Good old fresh air. And she misses feeling the dirt between her toes and the breeze ruffling through her hair and the sounds of nature and her friends. Spirits, her friends. Aang's babbling, Sokka's bad jokes, Zuko's dry comments, Katara's laughter. She had never missed something so badly in her life but she feels like a traveler stuck in a desert with no water.

She'd even rather be in that spirits-forsaken desert with its hot sands and even hotter sun than here. At least there she could feel the sun. There she was free to do as she pleased. Now she is a prisoner in her own home.

(But she always has been, hasn't she? That's nothing new. It shouldn't come as a surprise to her.)

At least now the choice is made. She'll cut her parents off for the last and final time and she will never ever look back. She knows what is good for her own sanity, and it's not whatever unhealthy form of love her parents can offer her. And she's not sorry.

But there's nothing she can do now. Nothing to do but to wait for her friends to break her out or wait for an opening where she can escape herself. She just prays that will be sooner rather than later, otherwise she's not sure how long she'll last.

She wants to scream.

Notes:

Toph, I am very sorry.

Also, that Katara and Sokka talk was definitely more than necessary.

Chapter 16: Fifteen

Notes:

I FORGOT TO POST LAST WEEK Y'ALL I'M SORRY

College is pain.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The Beifong estate is big and ostentatious. The walls are high and thick, ornated by green and golden tapestries and decorative lamps, as well as paintings of various landscapes, and the edges of the pointed roof are gilded. It's bordering on pretentious, really, but maybe that's just his Air Nomad heritage speaking.

Aang watches the flames in a lamp hanging from the ceiling while they wait for Mister and Misses Beifong to receive them. Finding the estate had been the easiest thing in the world aside from airbending, even if the servants had looked at them rather bewildered. It's not every day that a bunch of raggled-looking teenagers demand to see the wealthiest people in all of town, he supposes, but neither that nor the narrowed eyes of the man who had led them inside and told them to wait in the lobby had stopped them.

Toph has to... no, Toph is here somewhere. He is sure of that. And they will get her back.

Sokka had wanted to cut out the middleman and break into the estate to break Toph out. Zuko had been on his side, but Aang and Katara had protested. They'd try to speak with her parents first. Maybe they could all walk away from here with Toph in their midst and no need to look over their shoulders for more wanted posters. Maybe they could solve this in a peaceful way.

He knows how this looks to Miss and Mister Beifong. Their blind daughter, who they don't trust to survive by herself, ran away to fulfill some childhood dream of going on adventures. Oh, he wishes it was just that. That they'd all travel through the Earth Kingdom because they're bored of their lives, not because they have an Avatar to train and a war to end while always being wary of people that could rat them out and get them killed. But alas, that is not the case. And Toph is important. And his friend.

Aang doesn't leave his friends behind.

Plus, he's got the impression that Toph doesn't have the best relationship with her parents. Maybe they could fix that.

The man returns, still scowling. Aang doesn't let that faze him and by the look of it, neither will the other three. "Mister and Misses Beifong will receive you now." His voice is high and nasal and grates uncomfortably in his ears. The man bows, his long green sleeves hiding his hands, and leads them further into the house, past even more ostentatious tapestries - how many tapestries does one house need? -, windows overlooking a big and spacious garden and then finally to a double-winged door made out of dark wood. He opens the door and beckons them inside.

The room is big, with windows offering a view to the same garden to one side and the rest of the city lying beneath the hillside the house is built on on the other, with the bright rays of the sun coming in and immersing the room in bright golden light, causing the green accents all dotted throughout to shimmer brightly. At the center of the wall sits what he assumes are Toph's parents, clad in rich green robes with gold and pink accessories, and more jewelry in their slick black hair than Aang has ever seen in his lifetime.

(He really doesn't like to judge people without even knowing them but - if he were Toph, he'd have gotten sick of all that wealth, too, knowing how people suffer and barely get by in other places. Plus, she also told them that the Beifongs make deals with the Fire Nation. So.)

Their faces are hard to read but they don't look too friendly. Oh well. He's faced scarier opponents.

"So," Mister Beifong begins to speak. "It's not every day that someone like you asks to speak to me. You are not here for a deal, I presume?" His eyebrows go up.

Aang bows in the Earth Kingdom way and then puts on his most trustworthy smile. "No, sir. We're not. We're here for your daughter actually."

The two adults exchange a glance between each other before Mister Beifong speaks again. "Toph? What is it that you could possibly want from her?"

For you to let her go.

"Well, we..." His hand comes up to rub the back of his neck because how do you explain that? "We know that she ran away a few months ago. And that you just got her back." Well, they don't know that for sure, but they are hoping, praying, that this is the case because the other possibility is too horrible to think of. Aang pauses and hopes for some kind of signal from the two adults that he's right and they did indeed order their daughter to be brought back home but the two only look at him with unchanged expressions.

Merchants. Right. Oh well. Here goes nothing.

"And I know that you think that she is helpless because she is blind but honestly? Toph is the best earthbender I know. She doesn't need anyone to protect her, she can do that all by herself. And she likes doing it, she loves fighting. And, well, it came to our attention that you hung up wanted posters of her all over the Earth Kingdom. So we assume that maybe she didn't come home voluntarily. So, uh... we request that you let her go. If she wants to, of course."

This came out more shakily than he intended but then again, he didn't really think about what he'd say to her parents. He'd been more occupied with worrying until the inside of his cheek was sore from all the biting. And now it's out and he can't take it back, so... he just has to hope for the best now.

Mister Beifong clears his throat. "Well, it is not every day that some nameless strangers request to hand them over my daughter." Oh, right. They didn't introduce themselves. He wonders how the man that led them here had announced them. Oh well. Too late now. And Aang really doesn't like the way Mister Beifong stresses 'my'. As if Toph were a possession.

"I am sure this will come as no surprise to you," he continues, "but I cannot do that. Toph is safe here and so she will remain here. Her brief pursuit of a dangerous and factly childish attempt at an impudent rebellion is over."

Figures that this wouldn't go as easily as just strolling in and demanding her back. But not all hope is lost.

"But, sir, how is it childish if she is just doing what she wants to do? I really don't want to be rude, but she told us that she hated being cooped up in her room. She left on her own free will and I think parents should listen to their children. I'm sure that if you'd ask her, she'd want to come with us."

Mister Beifong leans back a little. "You see," he says, "this is where you're wrong. You are not a father so you cannot possibly understand what it is like to be one. I want my child safe more than I want her happy. This likely sounds scandalous to you, but you'll understand once you have children of your own. I couldn't bear to see her hurt. A father must do what a father must do. I cannot release her into a world full of dangerous criminals. Eventually, she will understand that and find her happiness again."

"But you are hurting her," Aang protests. "She hates being locked up and treated like she can't do anything by herself. Have you seen the way she uses her earthbending to see? She is not as blind as you think you are. At times, she even sees more than the rest of us." He's more desperate now, sensing that the lifeline that is this man's patience and understanding is slipping through his fingers.

"That does not change the fact that the world out there is dangerous and not a place for noble ladies," comes the clear answer. He suppresses a snort. Toph is not a noble lady.

"But it changes the fact that she isn't helpless. She can protect herself. She's safe with us." Okay, that's a lie, but one Toph would approve of. Because really, she is the scariest member in their little group. If someone can take care of herself, it's her.

"I highly doubt that she is safer out there with some ragtag group than in here with her parents. Young man, whatever it is that you want to say - you are not changing my opinion. Toph is my daughter and my daughter alone. I have every right to keep her here under my protection. I am not a cruel man, I can assure you that. Toph is treated very well, but she will stay here and that is final."

And just like that, the lifeline slips through his fingers.

"I believe you know where the door is."

Oh, they do. But they have one last card in their deck.

"There's one very important thing that you don't know yet," Aang says and doesn't move an inch, staring up at the adults with an unwavering gaze. Mister Beifong crooks an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"I'm the Avatar."

Behind him, he hears the others gasp and can imagine them frantically exchanging glances. Back when it was just him and Sokka, they agreed to keep his identity a secret to not alert the Fire Nation and well, the Beifongs do make deals with them, so this isn't ideal but... he really wants to solve this in a peaceful way. Otherwise they'd risk Toph getting kidnapped again and that would be even less ideal. Not to mention how her parents - and especially her father, he seems to be the one in charge - would react to a second attempt at running away.

But he doesn't strike Aang as cruel. Strict, yes, and maybe not the friendliest, but not malicious. Maybe he can appeal to their sense of honor before they move on to Plan B. Maybe he can still fix this.

Mister Beifong remains frozen for a solid few seconds while Misses Beifong's mouth opens in shock before her husband gets ahold of himself and narrows his eyes. "And why do you think I should believe something so ridiculous? The Avatar hasn't been seen since the era of Sozin."

Well, that's easy.

Aang reaches up and unbinds the green headband covering the pointed part of the arrow on his forehead. "Because I'm the last airbender. I survived the genocide and got frozen in ice for a hundred years. Just a few months ago, I was found and broken out." He summons a flame in one hand while creating a small whirlwind with the other. Mister and Misses Beifong's eyes track his hands cautiously with equal expressions of shock and surprise.

"Toph is my earthbending teacher," he continues while binding the headband around his head again. "I need her. This war has to end and for that, we need Toph. This isn't just about her, this is about the fate of the world. Please, sir."

For a few seconds, nothing happens. Toph's parents look at each other as if trying to communicate without words, and while they still look shocked, Aang can't make out anything else that would give him a clue as to how the two feel about their daughter being the Avatar's teacher.

But they have to understand, don't they? They're also affected by the war. Not as bad as others are obviously and the sick thought of them even profiting from the war steadily lies in the back of his mind, but... still. They're Earth Kingdom. The war is good for no one other than the Fire Nation. Surely they'd be better off if they'd make deals with other flourishing provinces than the nation who is looking down on them? Surely they'll see that?

He knows what he is asking. He wants them to risk their daughter getting hurt or killed, even if he assured them that Toph won't allow that to happen to herself, for him. He knows he doesn't have the right to do that. And he hates it, hates using this card but... this is war. People are dying and suffering every day. This is so much bigger than they are.

(Guilt prickles at the back of his mind. Hypocrite, it hisses. He is the one not being able to open up his last chakra because he didn't want to let his friends go. He is the one who couldn't sacrifice something for the good of the world. And now he is asking others to do the same. Hypocrite.)

(He shoves the thought away, even if he knows it will come back to haunt his dreams tonight. The priority right now is not his guilt but getting Toph out. This is what she would want. If he can't accomplish that because he is blinded by his own shortcomings, then he is an even bigger hypocrite.)

Mister Beifong turns his head and grants them his full attention again. There is something unreadable in his expression and for a moment, Aang is painfully aware of all the Fire Nation soldiers they saw in Gaoling.

"I am sorry, Avatar, but that does not sway my opinion. The safety of my daughter is my utmost priority and I am sure you will find another teacher. I wish you safe travels."

What? But... no. That can't be it.

"But sir, please. Nowhere is safe with the war still raging on! Not even here! With Toph, we could end this war and make the Earth Kingdom safe again." His voice is louder now, more desperate. There are cries of protest from the others behind him, just as unbelieving at the sheer ignorance as he is. "You're not protecting her by keeping her locked up where the Fire Nation can easily find her and do what they want with her! And you're not safe either. No one that isn't from the Fire Nation is in these times. Do you really want to risk that? You could help me end this! You can't just ignore this, it's right at your doorstep-"

"Young man!" Mister Beifong cuts him off. "I will not let you dictate what I should and shouldn't do! You come into my house and demand me to hand out my daughter and then insult me. Rarely have I met someone so rude and impudent, Avatar or not. You have much to learn."

"But-"

"No but's. The Fire Nation is not a threat to the house Beifong. Whatever your concern is, Toph is safe and so are we, war or no war."

"You can't just ignore other people's suffering! You can't just-"

"Yes, I can. What you can't do, however, is come into my house and make demands. Leave now and don't come back or I will forcefully have you thrown outside and reported to the local authorities, which are, as I'm sure you are aware, Fire Nation."

For a moment, Aang doesn't move, just stands frozen on the spot with his hands clenched into tight fists, nails digging into his palms, breathing heavily. How can someone be so ignorant?

But he also doesn't want to fall into the hands of the Fire Nation and he also doesn't want the others to share the same fate, especially not as the prince of the very nation and the prince and princess of the enemy nation. And he's sure that Mister Beifong would come through on the threat. He releases a tense breath, unclenches his fists, turns, and walks out the door, the other's following behind him.

"Well, that was a disaster," Katara says as soon as they've left the estate. Aang can't help but heavily agree. It was.

"Told 'ya that would happen," Sokka comments and gets an annoyed look from his sister, which he ignores. "So we're going with Plan B? The prison break?"

"Well, it's not actually a prison," Aang argues but maybe the Beifong estate is more of a prison than it actually looks like.

"Sssh. Let me have my moment."

—

Plan B is simple.

Step one: break into the Beifong estate. Step two: free Toph. Step three: Success.

They spent the remaining hours until dark watching the guards, trying to figure out their patterns. So when night came, Aang and Zuko stole over the wall with the help of a little airbending and into the garden while Sokka and Katara stayed behind with Appa, ready to take off as soon as they come back. They had protested at first, wanting to do more than just sit around, but this was a mission of stealth and stealth was better accomplished with two people than four. Besides, they needed to make sure their swift exit was available when they needed it. Can't risk something happening to Appa and then being trapped here.

Locating the servant's entrance isn't overly difficult and freezing the lock, causing it to break, isn't either. Aang stops in front of Zuko with his hands on the stone wall and eyes closed, trying to use the seismic sense Toph tried to train him in to locate anyone still wandering the halls at this late hour. After a silent minute, he turns and nods before proceeding forward.

The easy part is over. Now comes the part where they have to actually find Toph in an estate that's not exactly small.

They keep to the walls and shadows, ready to hide behind tapestries or big vases or in small alcoves. Thankfully, the corridors remain empty. Not for the first time is Zuko glad that he spent the majority of his earlier life sneaking around the palace, trying to avoid being heard or seen by anyone, especially his father and sister. It comes in handy more often than not.

Footsteps.

Aang and he exchange a panicked look. Aang dives behind an especially long tapestry depicting some random mountain and Zuko crouches behind a large vase. He's always found them pretty useless when he was younger but now...

The person rounds the corner; Zuko holds his breath.

The servant opens the door to a room and then closes it behind them.

He lets out a breath.

They listen for other sounds, other footsteps, other people that could get them caught, but hear nothing, so they continue their sneaking.

With Zuko standing guard, nervously listening for anyone and turning his head in every direction, Aang puts his hands on the wall again and takes deep breaths.

After a few moments, he turns. "Okay, so I'm not an expert at this seismic sense thing," he whispers, "but there's this room on the floor above us I just can't sense."

They both know what he means by that.

Where would someone keep their earthbending daughter locked up in?

A room where she can't earthbend.

They find their way to the floor above without further incidents. Aang reaches out again with his earthbending to cancel out all the other rooms, lest they accidentally try to open the door to the Beifong bedroom. After a moment, he approaches the door he has chosen.

"That one."

"You're sure?"

"Well... mostly."

No one has ever said they were confident in their plan.

Zuko summons the water out of his waterskins, wraps it around the lock again, freezes it - and he is really glad he figured out how to make ice in the past few days - and hears the click that tells him the lock has been broken.

Aang and he exchange a glance before he grips the door handle and presses forward.

The first thing he realizes is that Aang was right with his implication - the room is entirely made out of wood with no windows. The second thing he realizes is the massive bed standing in one corner with a small figure lying on it. The room is dark but it takes no genius to figure out who it is.

She sits up and even in the low light he can spot a grin on her face.

"Took you guys some time. I was getting bored."

Then someone screams.

—

"We should have gone in there with them."

"I know, but two people are quieter than four."

"I can be quiet!"

She gives him a look.

"Okay, okay, I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I don't either but they'll be fine."

They fall into silence again, Sokka nervously pacing and Katara staring up at the moon. Appa groans softly behind her.

She reaches out a hand without turning, feels for the big nose and pets it affectionately.

"I know, Appa. It's not long anymore."

He groans again.

She turns with her eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Uh, Katara," Sokka begins. "I don't think this is what he means."

Her eyes find his, now with confusion in them, brows furrowed. "What?"

Sokka stands frozen to the spot, one hand on his boomerang, gaze focused on something to her side. She turns.

Oh.

Two people stand just a few feet away, clad in red and black armor with heavy metal plates and grim-looking faceplates. Their boots are pointed and-

Oh fuck.

"What are you kids doing out here at this hour?" one of them asks, voice muffled behind the mask. Katara stands and searches Sokka's eyes in the darkness. He gives her a glance from the side, his expression stoic and his posture tense.

"We're... stargazing." She clears her throat. "Yeah. Stargazing. Beautiful sky tonight."

"Then why are you so tense?"

"Uhm... well, you're soldiers, and everyone's tense around soldiers."

She can't see their expressions but she can sense that they don't believe her. Especially not with her brother glaring daggers at them, damnit Sokka, play the part-

"What is this thing?" one of them asks and nods to Appa.

That is the other problem.

"Uh... a lemur?" She grabs behind her and finds Momo before holding him up in front of her. Technically, she's not lying.

"Not that. That." Another nod, this time definitely to Appa.

"...a big mouse?"

Silence.

The two soldiers exchange a glance. Then they slide into stances and attack.

—

There's a maid on a chair in the room and she is screaming her lungs out.

"Lian, shut it!" Toph hisses. The maid stops screaming and stares at her with wide-open eyes. Then she looks back to Zuko and Aang and starts screaming again.

Because of fucking course she does.

Zuko resists the urge to roll his eyes and beckons Toph over. "Come on!"

"Hey, don't tell me what to do in my own house, Sparky." She jumps off the bed and hurries with them out the door. "And here I thought you had forgotten me."

"You? Never." He chuckles but gets distracted by the door at the other end of the hall opening. Mister Beifong stands there in all of his sleepy glory.

"You!" Even from here, Zuko can see his eyes narrow dangerously, one finger pointed accusingly. "Guards!"

Footsteps downstairs. No doubt other servants and guards. Well, so much for a stealth mission.

Aang presses forward and blows a few guards down the stairs with a gust of wind. He winces when he hears the heavy thumb of their armor colliding with stone. "Sorry!"

Toph snorts and takes the lead.

All in all, breaking in and out of the Beifong estate is no challenge.

They make it to the servants' entrance without further hassle, throwing guards and brave servants against the walls and wasting no time in running. Aang gets struck in the arm by the sword of a particularly determined guard but doesn't stop fighting. At last, they reach the wall Toph easily crumbles and then reseals with her bending, expecting to hop onto Appa and get the hell out of this place.

Except that expectations often don't match reality.

Katara and Sokka are fighting two Fire Nation soldiers, plumes of flame glowing brightly in the dark.

Zuko wastes no time in approaching a soldier from behind who's currently trying to fry Katara and empties one of his waterskins to strike the unprotected back of his neck with a water whip. The soldier grunts, turns around - and gets frozen on the spot up to the neck.

That alone won't hold a firebender off for long, but they don't plan to stay any longer anyway.

Looking around, he sees that Toph and Aang have subsided the other one, and then hastily climbs onto Appa, Sokka and Katara helping him up by gripping his arms and hauling him over the side of the saddle. Aang and Toph follow.

They all let loose a breath once they're at a safe distance in the air, leaving Gaoling and the Beifong estate behind them.

"Toph?" Katara asks while looking at a hissing Aang's arm. The cut isn't deep and will easily be healed.

"Yeah?" comes the answer, voice still spiked with adrenaline.

"It's good to have you back."

—

Masses and masses of people and yet, no one seems to hear or see her as she's dragged away. She screams and bites and claws and fights but to no use. Whoever it is, they have a strong grip on her and they're not letting go. She screams again and damnit, she can't feel them, she can feel everyone around her, but not them and her friends aren't there, where are they, why aren't they here, why, why, why-

She wishes she could see. As pathetic as that may seem, she wants to be able to use her eyes just like everyone else just so she wouldn't be so helpless as she's hoisted off the ground and there is nothing, only void, only darkness, and she can't see, can't feel, can't sense-

Toph wakes with a silent scream.

Forest dirt under her, rock above her and to her sides - her earth tent. She can't breathe. She stomps her foot and the walls go down and she inhales the fresh night air greedily, the warm spring breeze, feels the sensations of the forest around her.

Right. She's not in Gaoling anymore or in that stupid village with the festival where-

She's not there anymore. She's here. And she's safe. That's - (she thought she had been safe there, too) - what counts. That's what counts.

The others lay sprawled out around the last glowing embers of the fire, all deep in sleep, heartbeats and breaths and the occasional snore even.

Except one.

Fuck, Sparky, why, not now-

"Toph?" his raspy voice asks and she can sense him sitting up. "What's up?"

And there are tears prickling in her eyes, actual tears, and who is she that she is crying, she is Toph Beifong, she doesn't cry, she-

(Except that the last time she cried was in the swamp, when she was useless at that fight with that weird swamp monster, where she wished to not be blind for once, where she wished to go back to her parents. Her parents, of all people. She really tries not to laugh out loud at that because it's really more sad than funny but somehow, her mind can't comprehend this.)

"Nothing," she tries to answer and tilts her head so that he doesn't see her eyes but her voice comes out shaky and even she can't pretend that she didn't hear it. Pathetic.

Zuko shifts, his bedroll rustling loudly in the quiet of the night. "Toph." And he doesn't have to say any more because she understands what he really wants to convey. You are obviously not alright. Let me help you.

She's Toph Beifong, she doesn't need help, she doesn't want help, she-

She-

Except that she does.

She wants help.

Because those thoughts of being grabbed in some alley and not being able to do anything against it as she was paralyzed have haunted her all day and the past night, and for spirit's sake, she can't just let go of it. She wishes she could, she prays she could, but it's so hard when they come back at every moment and rear their ugly heads every time someone moves too quickly or comes too close. And she knows her friends don't want to hurt her, never will hurt her, and she knows she is competent and the best earthbender in the world, champion of the famous Earth Rumble. She is a legend, a myth, her name whispered in awe under the dim lights of the arena, the Blind Bandit.

She's not supposed to be scared. But she is. She can't deny it any longer, not when it robs her of her sleep, her happiness, her senses, her everything.

She swallows.

"I-" she starts but the words get stuck in her throat. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. "I had a nightmare." And this time the words come out more freely, more naturally, like a stone freeing itself of its confines and rolling down a mountain.

"You wanna talk about it?" Toph can sense him shift closer, his voice low as not to wake up the others. Or to startle her. Maybe both.

And she doesn't really know if she wants to talk about it, she wants help, needs help, but is that really accomplished by talking?

(Maybe it is.)

And she already told him she had a nightmare so what's the harm? He seems willing to listen, willing to help. It's Zuko, after all.

(Admitting fear is to be weak, everyone expects her to be weak, she is not weak, she is Toph Beifong and she is stronger alone, she-)

(She shoves those thoughts away. She's been with this group for months now and she has learned much. Especially that to be alone doesn't equal strength.)

"It was about... about me being grabbed in some alley," she starts and has to force herself to continue. This is fine. Talking about it is okay. "They lifted me off the ground and I couldn't do anything against it, couldn't see, couldn't fight back. And I screamed and screamed and screamed so fucking loud and there were masses of people but - but no one listened, no one cared and I was all alone. And you guys weren't there and I kept praying that you'd show up but... you didn't. I was alone and it was... it was horrible."

Zuko shifts again and she can feel the warmth radiating from him, even if he isn't a firebender anymore. It's comforting. "It was about when you were kidnapped in that village."

Well, yeah. "Except a little different. But basically, yes."

"I'm sorry that we couldn't save you. I'm sorry that we left you alone. I'm sorry that we weren't there in time."

And here he goes, apologizing for things that aren't his fault. It's so... so Zuko that she wants to laugh and cry at the same time.

He's apologizing for leaving her alone. And isn't that ironic because she always wanted to be alone. But that was her downfall, wasn't it? That's what got her into this mess in the first place and now leaves her paranoid and crying.

"It's not your fault," she says because it's true. "You can't be with me 24/7. I'm not a little girl, you know. I can take care of myself."

He chuckles. "Oh, I know that, Toph. No one here thinks that you can't. Honestly, you're the scariest person here. Aang is terrified of you."

Toph punches him in the arm in response. "He better be. You too, Sparky. Don't think I don't notice you trying to touch the ground as little as possible when sparring with me."

She can feel him lift his hands in defense. "That's just smart. Always look for your opponent's weakness."

And here goes the good mood. Because Toph isn't weak. Except that she is - in one aspect.

Zuko must have sensed her mood change because he lays a comforting hand on her knee. "Hey. Your blindness doesn't make you weak. You're the strongest earthbender I know. You're a master and that at such a young age. You know who else was a master when she was your age? My sister. And she is considered a prodigy. Toph, you are a prodigy. Your compensation for your eyes is better than having functioning eyes."

She scoffs. "I don't need your pity."

"No, you don't. But this isn't pity, this is the truth."

Pressure and warmth build behind her eyes. She can't take it anymore. "Then why did I wish to not be blind when that woman took me? Then why did I wish to be able to see when my parents locked me up in a wooden room? Then why did I wish to not be so useless when we were attacked in the swamp? I couldn't do anything to help. I was the helpless little girl they always said I am, a burden, something to be hidden away in shame, and I couldn't do anything about it, couldn't fight back. Hell, I couldn't even feel. And you know what I wished for in that swamp when that monster bit me? Aside from not being fucking blind? I wanted to be with my parents. I wanted to hug them and tell them that I love them and that I never wanted to run away and I-"

Tears stream down her cheeks and dampen the ground beneath her. She chokes on her own voice as a sob escapes her. There. She's said it. All her fears, all the things she's been ashamed of in the past few months, are out. They are laid bare for everyone to see and use against her to rip her apart and force her into a gilded cage where they can hide her from prying eyes, throw away the key and forget about her.

"Hey." The hand on her knee is back, squeezing lightly. "Admitting your fears is not something to be ashamed of. It makes you..." And she can hear him swallow at that and doesn't know what it means. "It makes you strong. You're a brave woman, Toph. Everyone has their weak spots. It makes us human. You're human, Toph. We all are. You know what makes someone strong? Not overcoming them, not necessarily. We can't always overcome our weak spots. But compensating for them. Accepting that they are there and then working to still carry on."

Toph laughs but there's no mirth in it. "Pretty words, tough guy. But you don't know what it's like so stop trying to comfort me." She doesn't need comfort, doesn't need this pity party, and she knows she is being mean, but Oma and Shu she is hurting and she hates that she is, so she is angry instead and-

"Oh, I do." Now it's his turn to laugh humorlessly. "Trust me, I do." Before she can say anything, Zuko takes her hand in his and lifts it to his face. She opens her mouth to ask what the fuck he is doing but then she feels it.

Oh.

Oh.

The skin is rough against her palm and she takes her time just taking it in. It's damaged. It's marred. It's... his eye. It feels strange, not how her own feels. She lifts the other hand and lays it carefully on the other side of his face. There, the skin is soft and normal. Like her own. The eye is wide open and feels familiar. In comparison the other one is smaller. Slitted. He then takes her right hand and moves it again, to his ear this time.

Oma and Shu, that is not a normal ear. The skin is the same as on the marred side of his face. And it's... it's shriveled. She compares it with his other ear. It's smaller.

What? How?

"I..." The words are stuck in her throat. And then it hits her. "Oh my... and I said that you... I'm so sorry, Zuko, I didn't know, I-"

"It's not your fault," he assures her as she takes her hands from his face and rests them against the earth beneath her because she needs something to ground her after that shocking revelation. "It's not like we really talk about it. And I don't want to talk about it," he adds, as if he can sense her wanting to open her mouth to ask the question.

"But I thought talking was the order of the night for today? That's the impression I got, at least. I talk about my problems, you talk about yours..."

He snorts. "Yeah, I know, but I'm not some kind of guru. Talking is good but I don't always take my own advice. No one does, really. And sometimes, you have to wait for the right moment. I'm not saying I don't trust you, it's just..."

"You're not ready to talk about it yet?" Toph guesses and can feel him nod in response.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Oh, you don't have to apologize. I mean, I know what you're talking about, so..."

Silence. Then:

"It was comforting, you know."

"What was?"

"To know that there was one person in this world who didn't know about my scar. It's the first thing people see. And then they either pity me or stare or look away in disgust. I've gotten used to it but it's... not very reassuring. I don't want their pity, I want them to act normal. But at the same time, I do understand them. It's big and ugly and I can't hide it. It's there for everyone to see."

"Just like my blindness is."

He nods. "Yeah. Like that. When I got it all those years ago I was... devastated. The first time I looked into the mirror when the bandages came off, I broke down. I didn't want to look this way, didn't want to see him every time I looked at myself. And I didn't want anyone else to see it either."

She senses that there is a story behind it that would make her gag but he said that he isn't ready to talk about it yet and she respects that, so she doesn't ask and lets him continue.

"It took a few months to get used to it. Aside from it burning and itching - and I don't know if you've ever had a burn but they itch like crazy, the ship medic had to actually threaten to bind my hands if I wouldn't stop scratching - and acting as some sort of alarm whenever a storm was near or the weather changed - even though that was actually kinda handy, still is -, well, aside from that, the loss of sight was the worst. I can still see in that eye and I still have my right one, but it's blurry and not what it used to be. The vision field is smaller. And I…" - the sound of a frustrated huff being let out - "and here I am, complaining about not being able to see a hundred percent to a blind girl."

Toph senses him rub a hand over his face and waves him off. "Oh, it's fine. It's better than Snoozles loudly complaining whenever the sun sets that he can't see anything. I mean - what a nightmare." She rolls her eyes and Zuko snorts in amusement.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't really have depth perception anymore. I ran into a lot of walls. And fell off a lot of trees. My hearing also isn't what it used to be. I still have my entire right side of course, but I had a lot of neck pains the first few months from straining my neck to hear on my left side. And I had to relearn everything. How to bend, how to use my swords, how to balance... the point is: I had to learn how to compensate. I'm never going to get my vision or hearing on my left side back, and it's a weak spot I didn't want to accept at first, but the only thing that I can do is to counterbalance it with something else. And that is what you did for your eyes. You can't see so you learned to use your bending to compensate. You didn't sit around and pity yourself and hoped for something that was never gonna happen - you got out there and actually did something. And that makes you strong, Toph."

The corners of her mouth lift up. "Thanks, Sparky. I mean, I was born blind so there was never something for me to miss but... sometimes I just wondered what it would be like. And I knew how people reacted when they saw my eyes. I guess there is something abnormal about them? It's not like I'd know. But I always ignored them and showed them that I'm not actually blind. Not in the way that it matters."

"And that's all you need to know. Your blindness doesn't make you weak," comes his answer. "It's a part of you and in some aspects, it does hinder you. There is no denying that. But that makes you human. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"My parents think otherwise," she says bitterly, sensing the mood shifting again. "They think I'm someone they should be ashamed of. Someone to be hidden away from the world."

"Then they're wrong. They don't know you. They don't know how awesome and strong you are."

"Oh, I know that," Toph replies. "And I know that they love me. Just not in the way I want to be loved. Their love is... conditional. Restricting. It's not healthy, it's not good for me. It's toxic. Cutting them off is the best thing I can do for myself but I still... I still want them to love me, you know. I don't know, I can't explain it, but I do."

"They're your parents. It's natural, even if it isn't always good for you." And his voice carries a tone in it that has her crooking an eyebrow.

"Let me guess - there is also a story behind that?"

Zuko snorts. "You could say that."

"Care to elaborate?"

She can practically hear him mulling that over in his head. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she reminds him.

"I know, I just..." He cuts himself off. Sighs. Silence. A beat. Two. Then:

"It's complicated. They're practically opposites. My mother was kind and loving and my father, he is... well, he isn't. His love is conditional. And I tried so hard to get it, thinking that if I would just try harder, he would love me. Accept me. I was desperate for every scrap of affection. I never got it, though. I could never live up to my sister and she is, like I told you, a prodigy. In my father's heart, there is only space for prodigies and people he can use. And it took me so fucking long to see that and even longer to accept that. I always thought that there was something wrong with me. That I was the problem and that I didn't deserve to be loved. It was only after he banished me that I got it into my head that that wasn't the case. That parents shouldn't..." - she can hear him swallow - "that parents shouldn't use their kids and pit them against each other and make them compete for something that doesn't even exist. That it wasn't normal. And it's still hard. I still struggle to accept that and sometimes, I wish that he had loved me, would love me, that he would just tell me once that he is proud of me... I know I shouldn't. My father isn't a good man and his approval would mean that I'm not either. And I wish I wasn't related to that man but I can't change it. And he's still my father, if I like it or not. It's only natural that a child wants their parent's love and approval."

His voice is rough when he finishes and Toph is silent for a moment. That's a lot to take in. She knows that everyone here has their stories and that none of them are pretty. But this is... this is rough.

"Sounds like the Fire Lord is a massive asshole in all aspects," she says because she doesn't really know what else to say. She's never been great with words, especially not concerning feelings.

Zuko laughs. "Yeah, he is. What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be ashamed that you wish you had a better relationship with your parents. It makes you human. But sometimes, cutting them off is better for you. Just because they're your parents doesn't mean they're good people."

"Yeah, I gathered that much," she says and then punches him in the arm. "Thanks, Zuko. Really. That was a good talk."

She can feel him shrug. "Well, I'm not really that good with words, so..."

"Nonsense. You are good with words. Just in your own way. You get the message across and don't use overly flowery language. That's good enough for me. And you... you understand me in a way that no one else does. So thank you for that. Really."

"No problem, Toph. I'm happy to help." He shifts and moves to the spot where his bedroll is sprawled out on the ground.

"Oh, and Sparky?" she calls after him.

"Yeah?"

"If you ever need to talk about your fear of trees - you can always come to me." She puts a hand over her heart and tilts her head. He snorts.

"Shut up, Toph."

—

The cold light of her fire illuminates the room, creating dark shadows that linger just at the edge of her vision. She's poring over the newest reports that came in from the Earth Kingdom - Gaoling, to be exact.

The Avatar has been spotted. According to the Beifong's, he said that he was the last of the Air Nomads, having survived the attack in an... iceberg? She's heard a lot of crazy things but this one certainly takes the cake. But that doesn't mean that the Fire Nation shouldn't take it seriously.

As soon as she read the reports, Azula went to Father to tell him of this new discovery, expecting to hatch a plan with him now that the danger of the Avatar seems so much more real. But he just turned her down. Told her that the Avatar, according to the very real sighting, was a kid and therefore no danger. That whatever he was planning on doing, the Fire Nation could take it and that with all the soldiers on the lookout and a detailed report of his appearance, he wouldn't be able to escape notice for too long.

She had been furious. Appalled at such naivety. Horrified at that level of arrogance because for all that the Fire Nation and its Lord are the greatest empire in the world, all empires fall if their leader underestimates their opponents. And opponents, they have many.

(Father isn't a great leader, she realized. He didn't care to fix mistakes in the system and make it more efficient. He only cared to weed out anything and anyone not to his standards, not to his liking. There is a difference.)

(Like he cast Zuko out. Like he would cast her out should she fail to deliver. Azula is under no false assumption that the same wouldn't happen to her.)

(And she did fail to deliver.)

She didn't voice this out loud, of course, she wasn't an idiot. She wasn't Zuko who thought it wise to commit treason in front of the most important people of the whole nation. But she did voice her concern for the dismissal of the Avatar out loud, if only because letting him become stronger, giving the people more hope by doing so, would be... unwise.

(Not because she felt insulted at his implication that age has something to do with power. That the Avatar is too young to cause any real damage. Azula is young, too. Was much younger than the Avatar is now when she was declared a master. And she is certainly a force to be reckoned with. Does Father think her incompetent? A foolish little girl following Daddy's orders?)

He gripped her wrists in return. Warmed his hands to uncomfortable levels. Looked her in the eyes and demanded, silently, that she not flinch, that she not show any sign of pain, of weakness. She didn't. She kept still, staring into the golden eyes belonging to a predator.

Then he told her that she shouldn't question him, should know her place, especially in light of recent events. What does she know? She allowed herself to be ambushed in the Earth Kingdom and then practically ran, embarrassing herself and making the Fire Nation look weak to the enemy. She failed. She showed weakness.

Azula knows she is skirting on the edge, in danger of falling into the abyss that is her father's disapproval. She knows what happens when one falls into it, had witnessed it herself for years.

(She doesn't want to end up like Zuko. But she has nightmares that she will, that Father will put his burning hand on her like he did with him. She wakes gasping with lungs out of breath and tears streaming down her face each night. The last time she showed such a visible reaction to a nightmare was just after the Agni Kai.)

And he did burn her. Even now, it still stings when she moves too quickly. Her long sleeves cover up the burns visible on her wrists and she didn't even go to the infirmary. The last thing she needs is the servants knowing that their Lord punished his daughter. She knows how much gossip goes on in the palace. One of her favorite activities as a child was to eavesdrop on any conversation she could. Her mother had always disapproved.

She'll survive. She's experienced with burns - not because she is a firebender, only rarely has she burned herself, even when she first started throwing sparks - but because she lives with Father. And he uses burns as punishment. She has seen countless servants cowering in corners, cradling various limbs. Has felt them herself when she was younger and still needed to figure out what he actually wanted from her. She has seen Zuko.

(The smell of burning skin, the sight of flesh bubbling from the heat, smoke, ash, fire, screams-)

There is one thing she hasn't told Father.

She hasn't told him of the Avatar's companions.

One specifically.

Of course the reports don't outright state that he indeed is who she knows he is. She supposes that's no surprise - she doesn't know how far news traveled about the Agni Kai, about the banishment, but the Earth Kingdom would care little for such matters not concerning them.

But the scar had been a clear indicator.

Azula first scoffed when she had read of it. Who knew dear Zuzu would finally grow a spine and join a rebellion against his own homeland? The traitorous tendencies have always been there, of course, and the idiocy to voice them out loud in a war meeting, too, but outright aiding the Avatar? Now that's the kind of treason she hasn't expected, even from him. Maybe especially from him.

Aside from the fact that he is, apparently, still alive. His ship sank two years into his exile. Everyone thought he was dead - she and Father included. Not that Father cared much, of course.

(She did. When she first heard of the news, she felt something dying within herself. A feeling eerily familiar to what she felt at the Agni Kai. A feeling eerily familiar to what she felt when Grandfather wanted to kill Zuko. A feeling eerily familiar to what she felt when Mother left. She had pushed it aside then because Father was watching her and later, in her chambers, she ignored it and resolved to train for several days straight. She couldn't care very well when she was half delirious with exhaustion.)

She doesn't know how to feel about that fact. On one side, he deserved what happened to him. No child of Agni should ever show such weakness, such stupidity. He was a traitor, now outright. On the other side, he is still her brother. The only one who shared her experience in growing up in a palace with an absent mother and the Fire Lord for a father. The one who came to her room at night to calm her down from her nightmares when they were younger, less divided. The one who chased her across the beaches of Ember Island when they were little, the one who gifted her pretty shells and always shared his candy with her.

She suddenly feels the urge to laugh. Father cast him out with no chance to return. Of course he'd join a rebellion. What else did he expect to happen?

You don't cast people out with no hope. That's a sure way to turn them against you. Hope is a dangerous thing, yes, but a spark is certainly useful. Father could have - should have - played his cards better, strung Zuko along, offered him a chance of redemption he was never going to get. Zuko wouldn't have known. Zuko would have taken it and clung to it for dear life and never let go. Zuko is like that.

But that didn't happen and now they have to deal with the outcome. Zuko certainly knows a lot about the Fire Nation. That knowledge would be dangerous if used against them.

(A part of her screams. Has he turned against her? He turned against the Fire Nation, becoming allies with its greatest enemy. That certainly means he has turned against her, personally.)

(She can't let this get personal. Azula has always prided herself on being rational, cold, distanced. She doesn't let things become personal. Nothing is personal to her.)

(Except when Mother whispered Monster and then abandoned her, when Zuko left her, when Ty Lee was almost killed in that ambush, when Father dismissed her concerns so easily and then burned her-)

She pushes the thought away. Digs her nails into her palms to keep herself from thinking any further about this. This is a dangerous line of thought.

(It still hurts, deep within her chest.)

The facts are that the Avatar has been seen, her brother is still alive, and Father won't do anything about it. Azula herself is stuck here. Father won't let her leave the palace. He hasn't told her that outright, but he has implied it, and she isn't so stupid as to edge even further to the edge of the cliff.

She could send Mai and Ty Lee. They can certainly leave. But then she thinks about Ty Lee about to be killed by some earthbender and something in her just snaps. She can't let that happen. They are the only companions who have always remained at her side through the years, even when everyone else had left.

(Father didn't. But Father isn't everyone else.)

She can't let that happen. She just... can't. Maybe that makes her weak, maybe that makes her irrational, maybe that makes it personal. But she can't and that's a fact. They don't have to know. Father doesn't have to know. The only person who has to live with that knowledge is herself.

(The knowledge that Azula isn't as cold and distant as she'd like to be, as she pretends to be, as she is expected to be. That she actually cares. Through the years, she heard whispers of the thousand voices in her mind, sometimes sounding like Zuko, sometimes like Mother, sometimes like herself, and she'd had no choice but to listen when Agni was down and Tui was up, exposing her deepest fears with its silver light, not burning them but... doing something else. She has always hated acknowledging those fears, but Azula rarely gets to do things she likes.

She knows that Zuko had a mantra. Azula always lies. She wonders if he still has it. She wonders how much of that is true. She wonders if she has made it her own over the years.

One thing that she does know, however, is that she is not ready to acknowledge those fears in the open sunlight. Not yet. She doesn't know if she ever will be, what it will take. But they are there. And for all that she lies to everyone around her, including herself, she knows that she can't lie to herself about that.)

(It only takes one spark to cause an explosion, she knows. She wonders what that spark will be. She wonders what that explosion will look like.)

Notes:

Oh oh, Azula is doing Azula things.

Also couldn't resist some Zuko and Toph bonding 3

Chapter 17: Sixteen

Chapter Text

Being back in the Fire Nation is... weird. Strange. Frightening. Terrifying. Exciting. Every other word on the planet.

The last time he had seen the lush green of Fire Nation trees, smelled real Fire Nation spices, had seen such a vibrant red, had wornthe color of blood and fire, had heard the bustle of a Fire Nation market, had taken in the humidity of the early summer air and felt its heat, had been... years ago. About three, to be exact. Which, in itself, isn't all that much, but for him, it is. Had been. Still is.

He is not the same man as before. Zuko knows now where he stands. Granted, he thought he knew before, too. Had thought himself a loyal son, loyal to the Fire Nation, loyal to its people as their prince. And he is. Loyal, that is. But not to the Fire Nation or its leader - no, to its people.

He will do everything it takes to protect them. Even if that includes committing treason. Even if that includes doing things they may not like at first.

But his eyes are opened now. He has seen the world, has traveled the Earth Kingdom, lived amongst its commoners like he was one himself, has slept on the cold ground, has starved, has seen the war from the front lines, has heard perspectives from people from nations that couldn't be more different to his own. And he had listened. And he had understood. And he had learned.

He doubts he would fit back in his old life. Into the Before. He has simply seen too much to be able to go back to ordering servants around, having his hair done for him like he couldn't do it himself, and, most importantly, listening to his father's ideas about wanting to destroy the rest of the world. That beautiful, wonderful world with so many people in it and so many rich opinions worth listening to.

Even if Father would want him back - which he doesn't and never will, he knows that now -, he wouldn't go back. He isn't obedient. He isn't submissive. He has his own opinions and ideas and he will make sure they will be heard. Will make sure the world sees him as more than his father's son.

So he stands here, in the middle of the marketplace, closes his eyes, breathes in the fresh summer air, and thinks of After.

Until he hears Aang address another seller as 'Hotman'.

Zuko rushes up to him. "What in Agni's name are you doing?"

Aang gives him a confused look. "Greeting the vendor?"

"Yeah, but... how are you greeting the vendor?"

Aang perks up. "Oh! That. Well, you see, Hotman is a very traditional way to greet one another in the Fire Nation and-"

"Are you seriously trying to lecture me about the ways of the Fire Nation?"

Aang's hand comes up to rub the back of his neck with a sheepish glint in his eyes. "Well, no, I guess..."

"And what does Hotman even mean? The last time you've been in the Fire Nation must have been a hundred years ago."

"Well, yes, and Hotman was the way to go at the time."

"But it's a hundred years later. So maybe do some thinking in that round head of yours and..."

"... and come to the conclusion that a lot has changed in a hundred years and that Hotman may not be in anymore?" Aang finishes, looking even more sheepish than before with a hint of red on his cheeks. Agni, and that kid is supposed to save the world. They're all doomed.

"Bingo."

"But I think it should be!"

It takes all of his willpower to not slap a hand against his forehead. "Aang."

"What?"

"No."

"But-"

"Just no."

—

"So, how is it?" Sokka catches up to Zuko.

"How is what?"

"Wearing red."

He gives him a look.

Sokka throws his hands up in defense. "What? It's a valid question. It's certainly weird for me. I mean, red is... not blue. Green comes close enough, but red certainly doesn't."

What a smart observation.

"Uh, it's... well, it's my nation's colors. So... good, I guess? But I'm not really sure what you want to accomplish with that question."

Sokka claps him on the shoulder. "Nothing, buddy, just messing with 'ya. What I really wanna know is how you're doing. I mean" - he lowers his voice into a conspicuous whisper - "what with being banished and all."

"Oh. That. I guess it's weird? I mean, if any of these soldiers were to recognize me, they'd be under orders to kill me right here."

"But they won't recognize you... right?"

Zuko shakes his head. "Unlikely. The royal family is distinguished from the common folk by their palanquin bearers and robes and crowns and general fanfare and all that. They won't recognize me without that, don't worry. Especially not with..." He trails off but Sokka knows what he means - everyone does.

"Oh. Right. Not to be insensitive, but it is pretty distinguishing, so... are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," comes the answer. "I mean, I'm not sure how far the news traveled from when I got it, but... burn scars aren't exactly uncommon. And no one would expect their prince to have one, if they hadn't heard. We should be safe."

Sokka releases a tense breath. "Okay. Good. Just checking. Especially with Aang being the absolute opposite of 'reserved and subtle'. What does Hotman even mean?"

Zuko shrugs. "No idea. It was apparently a trend a hundred years ago and I told him to quit it, but if he's still going around saying that to everyone-"

"Nevermind," Sokka cuts in. "I think we should worry more about my sister. She's been talking with that vendor over there for ten minutes now and I'm not sure what about 'talk as little with Fire Nation people as possible' she didn't understand."

"Yeah, but you have to admit that not talking at all is also pretty suspicious," Zuko argues.

"Hey! I'm just cautious. We're in enemy territory here." He points at a bird sitting on a tree, looking down at them. "And those are enemy birds! You can never be careful enough."

Zuko raises a questioning eyebrow but doesn't comment, instead opting to go over to Katara to see what that's all about. Sokka follows close by after having lost his staring contest with the bird.

"Dear sister," he says and slings an arm around her shoulders, pressing her to him. "I think it's time we should get going. Our... fire is getting cold at home."

For the second time that day, Zuko resists the urge to slap a hand against his forehead.

Katara rolls her eyes and shoots him an annoyed look, communicating 'Seriously?' in a telepathic language one doesn't have to be a sibling to understand.

"Well, your brother has a point. It was nice talking with you!" the vendor, a young woman with blue eyes and curly - curly? - black hair says and waves them goodbye. Katara clutches her basket closer to her chest and slaps Sokka's arm off of her.

"And what exactly, dear brother, was that all about?" she asks in a biting tone.

"I could ask you the same question!" Sokka protests. "You've been talking with that woman for ten minutes! What if you accidentally gave something away? Like, you know, that Aang's the Avatar and that we're both Water Tribe and that Sparky over here isn't exactly a commoner..."

"Oh, you mean more than what you just practically shouted all over the market?" Katara bites back at the same time as Zuko loudly asks, "What is it with everyone and using Toph's nickname for me?"

He goes ignored between the two siblings. That was to be expected.

"She told me she was from the colonies and had Water Tribe ancestors," Katara explains, eyes locked on her brother. Oh, so that explains the hair and the eyes. "And no, before you say anything," she cuts Sokka off whose mouth is already in the process of opening, "I did not tell her who we are. And she only told me that because of my skin and eye color. I mean, I don't exactly look like I'm Fire Nation. It's a hard enough pass for the Earth Kingdom already. She thought she found someone with a similar background so that's what we talked about. Ocean kumquats taste like sea prunes if you stew them long enough, apparently. So I bought some." She holds out her basket filled with... some strange things that Zuko isn't exactly sure he wants to eat.

Sokka's eyes widen in awe. "You..."

"You're welcome," she finishes for him with a satisfied smile.

—

So. Here's the thing. Katara didn't exactly lie to Sokka. She simply left out some information and you couldn't very well count that as lying, right?

And even if - it was for his own benefit. If he knew, he would have worried and worried and, guess again - worried. And probably caused a scene which is definitely the last thing they need. He said so himself. So... she just did them all a favor. Maybe kept them from being discovered and captured and killed. So, if you look at it from that angle, she did just save the world. Right?

It's okay. She can handle it. It's fine. She's used to putting her feelings away and duty first.

(Except that in all these months, she'd slowly cracked that facade and grabbed behind the mask to pull out her feelings because she didn't want to hide anymore, because it is okay to put herself first for once-)

A few comments from some little kid and his mother about the color of her skin wouldn't bring her down. She'd stared death in the face and hadn't flinched. She will deal with this. She will not complain or cry or be even passive-aggressive (as is her specialty, Sokka had once called her the queen of a land called 'passive agressiva').

("Mom, that girl over there has weird skin. Why is it so dark?"

"I don't know, Shizu. She probably spent too much time in the sun."

"But why would she do that?"

"She's probably a worker. Now, come on.")

She is a princess, not someone from the colonies. She doesn't have a single ounce of Earth in her blood. And even if she had, she would be proud of it. Being from the colonies, not being 'pure' by Fire Nation standards, is not something bad, it's something good. Especially in times like these. Her skin isn't weird, it's simply different. Different doesn't mean bad, different just means... different. Other. Something else. A new perspective, a new angle, a new opinion. Differences are something to be proud of.

(Not to these people born of ash and flame who only look at fire and see its use for purification and don't take the time to look at the rest of the world and cherish it for all its richness, opting instead to stay in their little corner of the world and proclaim it superior on the basis of nothing.)

Katara wants to rage. She wants to drown them all and force them to open their spirit-forsaken eyes, to just look and see and understand. She wants to see them suffer at her hand, like she and her people had to suffer at theirs, wants to make them understand what it feels like to get the news that your father is never coming back, to be truly afraid, to be forced to kill and do things she could never forgive herself for.

Except that she isn't a waterbender anymore. She can't drown them. She is one of them now - not truly, but in element. And even if she weren't - she is different now, isn't she? A few months ago, those thoughts would have been acceptable to her. Cherished. Welcomed. Reveled in. Now they're... not. She's not out for blood, she's not a monster, never wanted to be. Now she understands that the people outside the tribes have suffered just as much. That the people of the Fire Nation are suffering just as much under an oppressive regime with their children being forced into a war they didn't start under an uncaring lord.

The thoughts are still there. But she is better at ignoring them now, closing her eyes for a second, breathing in all the ways Zuko told her are useful to calm oneself down. She hears and she understands and she lets go.

Difference is a good thing.

It's not their fault that all they've been taught is propaganda. After all, she has enough experience with living in a secluded and isolated corner of the world where people can choose just what exactly they teach you. They're not all bad. They can't be.

And with that in mind, Katara doesn't hesitate when that night, she sets out to a hospital at the edge of the village. She spotted it when she had wandered through the village the day before and just before Yana, the vendor, heard of the comments being made about the color of her skin and had waved her over to cheer her up.

See. Proof that not all people in the Fire Nation are bad.

The others are all deep in sleep - after a meal of ocean kumquats that Sokka proclaimed his undying love for, while the others at least tried to be polite about it -, the moon is full and the stars are bright, Katara has borrowed some black attire from her brother and Zuko and is feeling confident.

She is aware that she looks like a burglar as she quietly makes her way into the hospital, climbing in through an open window and pressing herself into dark corners as she searches for sick people she can heal. Technically, she is only trespassing and she's not here to steal anything but... it's probably for the best if no one sees her doing this. It would be a bit complicated to explain.

'Yeah, I'm the Princess of the Southern Water Tribe, but for some reason, the spirits decided to mess with me and uh, your banished Crown Prince, who is also here by the way, and gave me firebending - the spirits, I mean - and apparently you can heal with that - what do you mean you haven't heard of that happening in like ever -, so now I'm infiltrating your nation with people who would definitely be considered traitors to take down your leader, but out of the goodness of my heart I'm also healing a few of you while we're at it. With a technique I haven't fully figured out yet, but don't worry, practice makes the master. I think. That good with you?'

Yeah, she imagines that wouldn't fly very well.

It's almost funny, she thinks. Her firebending will give her some leverage here in this strange country that won't validate her skin color out of its hunger for blood.

Katara creeps around a corner, and there her destination is. Sick people all laid out on their own cots in one room with walls that look old and torn down. She thinks back to her home and how the hospital there had looked. One good thing about ice is that it doesn't age and always looks the same.

On tiptoes she soundlessly walks over to the nearest cot and kneels, not daring to light a fire in her palm yet. The light of the full moon illuminates the man's face and even in the dim light she can see how pale he is. Paler than even the palest of Fire Nationals have any right to be. There is a sickly color to his skin, yellow-ish, and his features are the opposite of peaceful. He's shivering and groaning lightly, like he's in pain, even while unconscious.

The urge to help, to do something, overcomes her, so she does just that - she begins to heal.

It's a little strange at first and she's hesitant, what with this only being her second time in using this strange element to actually do some good, but she manages. She feels and she warms with gentle palms full of fire, not touching but hovering, caressing and not burning, flushing out infection, connecting and unblocking chi paths, sensing and mending and understanding. She feels glimpses of the pain, feels it in her heart like it's her own, and then tells it to heal and lets go of it.

And out of one healed man becomes two and then three and then she's moved onto the next room to do exactly the same. Some patients even open their eyes during the process, blink sleepily at her, and then either go back to sleep or murmur a quiet 'thank you' when they sense the feeling of their sickness gone or injury healed.

None of them makes a fuss. None of them shouts and demands her to take her hands away. She doesn't know what they'll remember in the morning, if they'll even remember her at all, and how they - and the hospital staff - will react upon seeing them healed overnight but it doesn't matter. What matters is that these people are feeling better. She and her group will be gone come morning. This will be of no consequence.

The hospital isn't all too big and soon she's gone through every patient currently sleeping there. She couldn't heal all of them, but she did what she could, and that is enough.

Katara climbs out of the window she came through and walks back through the village. The healing has drained her energy and all she wants to do is to fall back asleep - even though she knows she has quite a bit of walking to do until she'll reach camp, then change out of her black clothes into the stolen Fire Nation ones and sneak past four other people, one who can sense the vibrations in the ground and one who will most likely not sleep much due to the full moon. She groans internally.

Senses still aware of her surroundings - one can never be too careful when walking through a dark village (she is more cautious than walking through the forest at night. After all, in the forest there are only animals. In a village, there are people.) - she peers up at the moon, round and big and illuminating the path before her as she exits the village. She has made peace with the new element she commands now - or at least as much as it is possible in that situation. She's still mad, yes. At who, she's not sure. Maybe at the spirits, maybe at herself. But she's not a raging inferno (the irony) nor a towering tsunami - fire is her element now and she will embrace it as best as she can, even if she will always truly be water.

But still - she wishes that she'd feel the push and pull of the waves, of the sea, of the moon, with its energy when it stands high amid the stars. She can't help but feel slightly jealous of Zuko, who gets to experience that feeling now. But then again, he has just as much cause to feel jealous of her. She is the one feeling that joint of energy when the sun reaches its peak at midday now.

She still has a preference for the night, though. Katara was never a morning person. Her bending being tied to the moon helped with staying up into the early hours, something her new element definitely does not assist her with.

But she did something good with it today. Even in this land of warlords and people breathing fire, she has used their element, that they themself use for hatred and war and violence, and turned it into something good, something that heals, something that gives and not just takes.

Maybe, she thinks, this could be the new norm in a better world. In the After. Maybe, she thinks, if they all survive this, it will be.

A twig breaks.

Katata comes to a stop and listens.

An animal? A person that followed her out of the village and into the forest? She's been careful to watch out for anyone who could potentially-

There. A slight whimper. Something like... pleading? Their voice - low and afraid and broken. Footsteps.

She holds her breath and creeps nearer toward the sounds, careful not to step on any twigs or leaves or otherwise make a sound. She listens.

And there is definitely someone begging and whining and crying. She creeps further, presses herself into the shadows provided by the thick canopy of the leaves, hides behind the thick trunks, and then she - and then she sees it.

Katara's eyes widen in horror.

There are two people just a few feet before her. One walking in that weird but all too familiar way, like they're not doing it out of their own free will, but like they're being forced to, and the other - the other is stretching out their arms in that unnatural way that Katara knows like the back of her own hand, commanding, forcing, pushing, pulling.

She knows bloodbending when she sees it.

And how - how is that even possible? Outside of the tribes and the swamp, there are no waterbenders, and even if - bloodbending is not something most people know of. Even in her tribe, where it is used as a weapon, it is treated with caution and horror. And it is incredibly difficult to master. The only other person besides herself she knows that can bloodbend is Hama. But that in front of her isn't Hama because Hama is still at the South Pole (has to be at the South Pole, please don't let her come here, please don't let her see what I've become-) - that in front of her is Yana.

Yana, kind Yana, who offered her the feeling of shared suffering and a taste of home, a taste of friendship in this enemy land, is currently bloodbending another man. Or, rather, boy. He doesn't look very old, he - oh. Oh.

Oh fucking no.

Yana, kind Yana, who offered her a listening ear and an open mind, is currently bloodbending the boy who insulted Katara earlier.

She claps a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

A thousand questions race through her mind. How, why, what. But she has an answer to none of them - nothing, nada, zero. The only thing she has are the facts that are spread out before her, as clear as ice.

Yana the vendor is apparently a waterbender and can bloodbend and is currently bloodbending that little boy who made that racist (no, not racist, uneducated, he didn't know better, he's a little boy-) comment.

Think, she tells herself, think. Think like Sokka.

Okay. So. She doesn't have much time and as much of an idiot as her big brother is, he has some good ideas. So she has to concentrate and have her little (big) freakout (panic attack) later. She can do this. She can. Just focus.

She doesn't know what Yana is intending to do with the boy but from the sounds of it, it isn't good. Bloodbending is never used for something good, no matter how many times she tries to justify it to herself. And Katara isn't a bad person, so she can honestly and confidently say that the temptation to let the boy just meet his fate is not there.

Spirits, he is a little kid. He doesn't know better. If someone deserves punishment, it's his mother who told him all those lies in the first place. No, better - the Fire Lord who made it treason to say the truth. But they're working on that and the current objective is to save the little boy. Because as bloodstained as her hands are, she will not watch a child get tortured and murdered. She won't.

Shizu is his name, right? Katara, she chides herself. Priorities. Unimportant. Focus.

Yeah. Right.

Except that it's hard to think when your mind goes a thousand miles an hour. She has always prided herself on being able to focus in a fight, to tune out everything else and concentrate on the task at hand.

(Forcing and torturing and killing, all for the sake of information, all for the sake of the tribe, her humanity set aside for the good of the people.)

If she'd still have her waterbending, she'd just simply step out of her hiding place and overpower Yana because she wasn't declared a prodigy for nothing. Even if Yana has to be powerful if she's able to do that. Plus, it's a full moon.

But she does not. Katara is a firebender and, with the moon high in the sky, is at her weakest. That is a problem. That is definitely a problem.

She is good at fighting. Even with this new element, and especially since she started incorporating waterbending stances into her katas. She's confident.

But can she really take on a bloodbender during a full moon with nothing but her flames?

Oh, well. Looks like she won't get to mull that over much longer because Yana is almost out of view and Katara's not sure how long she'll be able to follow her without her noticing. And she'd rather have the advantage of a not-on-edge-bloodbender.

Maybe they can talk?

She steps out of the shadows and into the light. Yana, with her front turned to her, immediately freezes. The boy stops too in her wake, seemingly held up by nothing but the bender currently forcing his step. It looks uncomfortable - is uncomfortable, as she knows from her own experience.

(Fury and rage as cold and burning as ice in Hama's eyes, her hands held up in an unnatural angle, forcing Katara to bow, forcing Katara to walk, forcing Katara to-)

No. Focus.

"Yana," she says and swallows as her voice doesn't come out as steady as she'd like to. Come on, she wills herself. She yelled at a powerful spirit and wasn't half as afraid of him as she is now. She can do this. She has survived worse.

(Or at least she has put up a better facade of not being scared. But if she did it then, she can do it now. She can. She will.)

"You," Yana replies with a tone in her voice that speaks of recognition. "You're that colony girl from the market today."

Katara swallows again. Okay. Good. They're talking. That's one step in the right direction. Now she just has to convince her to let the boy go and maybe try not to sound like she's half scared to death while doing so.

"I am." And this time, her voice comes out steady and strong. Confident, because Katara has always been confident in her abilities. They will not fail her now, nor will her confidence. "I didn't know you were a waterbender," she continues. "I thought there were only the ones in the poles left." She conveniently doesn't mention the swamp because it's not like a simple colony girl would have a chance of knowing that.

"Well, not quite," comes the reply. "Bending doesn't have to show itself in every generation. All it takes is one ancestor."

And Katara sees how Yana's knuckles whiten and how the skin pulls as she tries with all her power to hold onto the little boy's blood. How her eyes momentarily widen, how her chest heaves in uneven breaths. And Katara knows from experience that bending one's blood is exhausting. For Yana to have dragged the boy - Shizu - all this way from the village, she must have a pretty good grasp on the technique. And, she thinks with a shudder, experience. It's certainly what taught her best.

She doesn't want to know how long Yana's been doing this. How many people she's forced to walk away from their homes, their families, their lives.

But she senses an opening and she will take it, her own feelings set aside.

"Look, I know what you're doing. Like I said earlier, I have Water Tribe ancestors myself. Who taught you? Bloodbending is pretty hard to learn. How long have you been doing this?" If she keeps talking, she can maybe tire Yana out enough that her grasp on Shizu breaks. He can run and Katara can deal with her alone. What she will do, she doesn't know. She doesn't want to hurt someone she shares kin with - but she will, if she has to.

"Bloodbending? Is that what it's called? My father and I always called it body-bending. He discovered it after he realized that our bodies are essentially just water. It took a few years, but I think I'm pretty good." Yana angles her head and flashes her a smile that makes her look almost savage. "Got a bit of experience ever since I've settled down here a year ago."

Katara swallows down the sick feeling in her stomach because she has no right to feel sick when she's been doing the same for years. But at least she's never taken an innocent life. It had always been soldiers. Not children.

"Okay and... why exactly are you doing this?"

Yana laughs, the sound shrill and ugly in the dead of night. Not even the night birds seem to call upon each other. It's like the world momentarily stopped spinning - and maybe it has. Gone is the kind Yana of the day and now the Yana of the night stands before her, dark and completely transformed.

(The ocean kumquats in her stomach feel uncomfortably heavy. She wants to puke.)

"I thought that was obvious? I hate this land. I hate this nation. I can't do anything against the war, I certainly can't kill the Fire Lord. But I can punish his people for their sins."

And that is an answer she expected but it still doesn't make it easier actually hearing it out loud. Especially as Katara realizes that her mindset wasn't all that different all these months ago.

But still.

"But this is a child, Yana. He hasn't done anything wrong," she argues and Shizu winces at that. His back is turned to her but she can feel how he shudders, how he trembles, and can only imagine how much pain he is in right now. Being held like this on the spot isn't any better than being forced to walk and the way his knees are bent screams permanent damage if he doesn't get out of this situation soon. She holds back a wince of her own and directs her full attention back on the danger.

"He has insulted you," comes the reply, and yeah, she expected that.

"Because his mother taught him to. He doesn't know any better, he didn't mean it. It's propaganda. It's not his fault; he's just another boy."

"That doesn't excuse his actions. I guarantee you, that boy will grow up to put on a skull mask and kill and oppress like it's his fucking birthright. One less will do no harm and only good. It's always better to put 'em down while they're still young."

And wow, she can't quite hold back the wince at that one. She schools her expression into something calm. Or something that resembles calm, she thinks.

"Not everyone in the Fire Nation is like that. I mean, you live here. You see it around you every day. Not everyone grows up to be a soldier. The Fire Lord isn't a good man, that's true, but he's oppressing his people just as much as he's oppressing the other nations. You have to see that, Yana."

A sharp, biting laugh.

"Aw, that's cute. You're an idealist, aren't you, colony-girl-who-I-don't-think-is-from-the-colonies-anymore?"

"Maybe. Doesn't mean I'm wrong." And she ignores that comment about her heritage because yes, a colony girl would probably not know so much about bloodbending, but that's really not the priority here.

"Oh, it means you're wrong in every aspect," Yana counters. "The fewer ash makers, the better. Doesn't matter who they are or how old they are or what kind of tea they like to drink. They're all the same. So, girl-that-is-not-from-the-colonies, I suggest you walk away, go back to wherever the hell you came from, and forget that you've ever seen this if you're not intent on helping me."

Katara stands her ground.

"Yana," she pleads but not in a voice that has an ounce of begging in it. No, she is appealing to Yana's sense of goodness because it's got to be in there somewhere. "Please. Let him go. He's a child. You're not actually accomplishing anything with this." Her voice is soft, but not submissive. "Just walk away from this. There are better ways to do this."

Yana angles her head. "I'm not sure why you're so stubborn about this. You said it yourself, they're not your people."

"But that doesn't mean I give up on them and want them all dead." And here come all these months on the road into play. "We're all different. And that is good. Killing the people of one nation won't make this any better."

"It will, if said nation is responsible for nearly annihilating all the other ones. You saw what happened to the Air Nomads. Don't think for a second that the same won't happen to the rest of us if the Fire Lord has his way."

And Katara snorts at that because oh, does she know.

"Believe me, I know. But whether you kill this boy or not, it will have absolutely no influence on the Fire Lord. You'll have taken a life for nothing."

A glint, then, in Yana's eyes. Dangerous and wild.

"And what makes you think I care? He's not worth anything, certainly not more than people of other nations. You see, I get things done." And that is clearly meant as a threat to Katara herself but for Tui and La's sake, she has taken more lives than she can count. Yana isn't one to talk.

(Except that she didn't want to do it and eventually learned to just tune out, to just go through the motions like a puppet, to just do her duty to her people because she had a responsibility. This, this is senseless, unnecessary violence. The intent here is not to protect, it is to have fun. And that makes her sick to her stomach.)

"This is black and white thinking, and it won't do you any good. Not everyone in this world is just simply good or bad. There are in-betweens. Just like I know you're not evil. There is good in you, Yana, and I know that because you cheered me up after those comments today and gave me a recipe that tasted almost exactly like sea prunes. You didn't do that because you had to for some reason, you did that because you wanted to. And that's how I know that there's compassion in you and kindness and that you will not kill a child just for the sake of it. Please."

Katara's eyes are wide and big now and if her tone sounds like begging, she doesn't care. There's a child's life on the line here.

Yana doesn't say anything for a second. Then angles her head further and, subtly, slides into a different stance. One more suited for an attack. Oh, so this is how it's going to be.

"I thought you were kin. I thought we were both Water Tribe."

"Yes, we are. We still are and no one can take that away from us. You hear me? No one." She takes a few steps further and watches how Yana stands her ground, even if she doesn't look as sure anymore. Her exhaustion is showing. The moon is sinking.

"So just let him go, and we can both talk about the Water Tribes and maybe share some receipts? I can tell you stories my elders told me and I... I've got a scroll. A waterbending scroll. You could learn from that. I can give it to you." She knows it's a weak bargain but she doesn't have much to offer, to be honest. She has to make do with what she has. Hopefully, appealing to Yana's sense of goodness will do the trick.

Katara knows how she feels. She feels angry and hurt and violated and like the whole world is out for her blood. She knows that feeling all too well. Much too well. And that is why she knows that pursuing this, whatever this is, won't bring her any satisfaction. It will only feed the monster inside, feed its black and white views and force it to only ever see hate and blood.

There is so much more to the world than that.

The world is not kind but she can make it kind. She will try and try and try and carve out pieces of herself and give her sweat and blood and last breath to try to make it better, and if it's the last thing she will do.

Something in Yana's face twitches.

"I thought you were loyal."

And something in Katara snaps.

She is loyal, she is loyal, she is loyal, why is everyone accusing her of not being loyal, her duty is to the Water Tribes, to her people, she is doing her best, can't they see that-

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

"I am."

Silence. A heartbeat. Two. Then:

"Doesn't seem like it to me. I'm... sorry. Truly."

And then Yana attacks.

She's good. Like Katara established before - she is good. And that's also a massive problem for her, like she also established before. Because she is at her weakest right now, with muscles still aching from healing all night, with an element at her hands to command she still doesn't feel a hundred percent confident with.

But what she does have is experience. Waterbending and bloodbending are her specialties and always will be.

She sees the water whip coming before it has a chance to hit her, ducks out of the way, and sends her own fire whip Yana's way, who is still standing where she stood before, holding Shizu with one painfully stretched out arm. She's trembling. She won't be able to do this for long.

Yana deflects with a water shield and sends an icicle coming her way. She puts her hands up, intent on melting it before it can reach her, when she suddenly feels something prickle her arm.

Another icicle, one that had been sent after the first one - the bigger one, likely used as a distraction, she sees that now - had buried itself into the sensitive skin of her arm. It hurts like a thousand tiny needles are intent on breaking her skin, and blood gushes out of the wound. It's not big, it's not threatening, but it is enough to make Katara lose her concentration and divert her attention for a second.

And that is when she feels it.

Her blood is not her own anymore, is being commanded by another. Push and pull, her veins scream, and force comes the answer.

She is forced to stand still on the spot, with her arms pressed to her sides, blood dripping onto the ground. She's not able to move one single muscle, is not able to do anything but stare at Yana with wide eyes.

Panic fills her.

Hama taking control of her blood, forcing her to do things, bending her limps at unnatural angles until it hurt to make her listen to her lessons, to make her submissive-

She's always known what it felt like to be bloodbent. Had done it enough herself to know better what it feels like to be the one doing it, but she is no stranger to being at the other end. Hama made sure of that. And a single, hypocritical part of her screams sorry. Sorry to all the soldiers that I've bent and tortured and killed.

Her life had never been in any danger with Hama. But this isn't Hama, this is Yana. And Yana has no qualms about killing, has said so herself.

This is how she's going to die. She is going to die here in the middle of nowhere in some random forest on some random Fire Nation island and her friends will never find her body, will always wonder where she vanished to, if they did something wrong, what happened-

Yana is saying something, but the rushing in Katara's ears is too loud to truly hear anything other than her erratic thoughts.

She will never see her brother again, he will be the last one of their family (they always said they'd stay together but that had been a lie), she will never see Aang again or Toph or Zuko or her homeland or even ice, for that matter-

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Shizu wincing again and then hears a scream. Yana is still talking, with her eyes now trained on him, and she is doing something, she is killing him, right here.

She still has an Avatar to train, a tribe to protect, a world to save, and now all this isn't going to happen because of one bloodthirsty waterbender, and isn't that funny, and there is nothing she can do about it-

Except that there is.

With Yana's attention not on her anymore, her grip loosens. And it is still strong, impossible to break through if one isn't already experienced with that sort of thing. But here's the thing - Katara is experienced with that sort of thing. Has been trained in it for years.

She can do this. She will.

Her muscles are sore and aching and screaming at her, and the sun is still too far away to feel its pull and lend her its power, but she is strong and she will break through this and she will fight.

So she tunes out the panic and the horror and the anxiety rushing in her ears and blocking her thoughts and focuses. Concentrates solely on herself, her body, her muscles, her blood. Wills them to bend to her and her alone.

She is the master here. She is the prodigy.

And then, slowly, she can move a finger. She glances down, sees the digit moving to her own free will. She pushes through the invisible bonds with all the willpower that she can muster, grits her teeth against the strain and the pain and the screaming in her body and - and pushes through.

She can move her hand now, and a little of her right arm. She can't move the rest of her body, and even if she could - Yana would just concentrate on her only and then she'd have no chance of escape. Shizu would also likely die in the process.

The screaming of victory in her head seems hollow now. Think, Katara, think.

Yana is bending blood because the body is mostly water and blood is a liquid. It is connected to the body in an intimate way. Can she say the same for any other element? Sure, there's air in the lungs and when she hugs her brother, she can always feel some of his warmth-

That's it.

Body heat. She can bend that. Not as effective as blood maybe but still - she can do something with it.

People die when they're hypothermic. She's seen it all the time in the arctic waters of the South Pole.

She just has to find a way to induce that state here. She doesn't have to kill Yana, just weaken her.

So. That body heat. She can... she can take that away.

With only one hand free, she closes her eyes for a brief second, sends out her senses like she imagines Toph does, and feels.

Three bodies of heat in this area. She, Yana and Shizu. When she concentrates, when she focuses, she can feel the heat they're radiating, can feel the fire, can feel her element.

Her fingers curl into something like a claw, grotesque and unnatural, and pull.

Yana doesn't seem to feel anything at first, exhibits no sign that she knows what Katara's doing as she watches her intently, like her life depends on it because it does. And not just hers. Yana is taking her time with Shizu, she can tell, and that is definitely to her advantage, even if it's more painful for the boy. But if it saves his life in the long run, so be it.

Still. She has to be faster, faster, faster.

She pulls and pulls and pulls, commands the heat to herself, can feel the air around her heating up, can feel Yana's body getting cooler when she reaches out with her senses again, and pushes through the sick feeling in her stomach because this is something that she has to do.

And it is working.

Yana gasps for breath, stops whatever she is doing to Shizu, hands still outstretched in two different directions, and swallows. Even in the moonlight Katara can see her skin turning cold, turning grey, turning blue.

So she pulls again and she's not sure how much heat exactly she is stealing right now, but she doesn't care because it is working and she might have a shot at getting out of this alive, at getting Shizu out of this alive.

Yana's dark eyes find her and are widened in horror. "You..." she gasps and Katara's not sure why, but then again, she's never been hypothermic. Her eyes glance down at her hand, still curled like a claw, and stealing.

Another gasp. "How..." And Katara can see her shivering, can see her losing control, but it's not quite enough, she still has a grip on both of them, and the summer air around them is warm, she will regain her temperature in no time-

She pulls and she thinks that it might be too much because she can move her entire right arm now but still, she pulls-

Yana falls.

Her grip breaks.

Shizu falls to the ground, gasping, coughing, groaning. Katara stands still for a second, frozen to the spot, having to get used to being in control of her muscles again, gasping for breath herself.

After a second, she catches herself because this is not the time, she has to move, she has to do something.

"Shizu..." She takes a step toward the boy but he turns his head and backs away from her with steps that definitely speak of damaged knees.

"Get away from me!" His eyes are wide and amber and full of panic and Katara understands. But still. "I can heal you, Shizu-"

"Get away from me, witch!" And with that, he runs away, vanishing into the thicket of the forest, back to the village.

Katara stares at his receding shape for a second before she turns her attention to the body lying before her. Carefully, wary, she approaches Yana, ready to defend herself.

Yana lies still.

A step forward. Two.

Wide eyes stare up at her. Sightless.

Chapter 18: Seventeen

Notes:

Not me posting this during an online lecture, nuh-uh

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

He finds her at the stream not far from camp.

The first rays of dawn peek over the horizon and paint the morning sky in faint pinks and blues. Something inside her flares alive; she can feel the sun pulling at her inner fire, lending her its power.

Too late, she thinks grimly, and continues ignoring the call. Or maybe too soon.

Katara had dragged Yana's body - Yana's dead, lifeless, cold, still body - to the beach because this was the Fire Nation and they were never far from the ocean - and isn't that ironic to find so much water in a place so filled with fire - and into the waves still warm from the day's heat, and had sunk her with a heavy stone bound to her feet. She had Water Tribe ancestors and benders liked to be buried with their element, so that seemed like the only appropriate thing to do. She didn't have any of the other materials here required for a proper sinking and she also didn't stand vigil all night to make sure Yana's soul didn't become lost but then again, she die try to kill her and how appropriate was it to wish your almost-murderer good luck in the afterlife?

But Yana wasn't the murderer here. Katara was. Yes, Yana had killed before, but tonight, only one of them had killed, and it hadn't been Yana.

She feels sick. She puked her guts out just after she sunk the body, getting rid of everything inside including the ocean kumquats because for some reason, they didn't feel right anymore.

Then she dragged herself back to camp but couldn't muster the courage to go back there just yet - she knows she has to, eventually, and soon, if she doesn't want to raise any suspicions - especially with a living lie detector among them - but... she just couldn't.

So instead she found a place near a stream not far from camp but just out of earshot and had... just sat there, watching the sunrise. Thinking. Listening.

She doesn't know how to feel about this. She feels strangely empty. Until a wave of emotions hits her and she feels the opposite of empty and almost wishes the void that filled her before would come back.

She killed someone. She actually killed someone.

And it's not the first time she's ever done this - had to do this - but it's the first time it's been so personal. It's different from all the other times.

She remembers the first time she killed somebody. She had felt sick to her stomach, unable to sleep or eat. Images of what she did had danced before her inner eye, had burned themselves onto the back of her eyelids.

And then she'd had to do it again. And again. And again.

But those had been soldiers. Men who wanted to see her people dead, her tribe annihilated.

Yana hadn't been a soldier. Yana had been part Water Tribe. Yana had been a waterbender.

She just killed a waterbender. Someone who would have been tribe in another life.

It was self-defense and she didn't mean to kill her but that was what happened. Intent doesn't mean anything, not when it comes to murder. Yana is dead because of her and there is nothing Katara can do about it now.

(Who is guilty and who is not? What justifies violence?)

There's blood on her shirt. And it's not even her shirt, it's Zuko's, she got blood on Zuko's shirt, she has to clean that up, she can't give it to him back like that, she-

She pulls it over her head, feels the warm breeze on her bare skin but it doesn't feel comforting in the least. She dips the shirt into the water, feels the hole Yana's icicle tore into it, feels the dried blood on the fabric and resists the urge to vomit because there is nothing left to retch up anyway.

The clear water turns red as she scrubs and scrubs and scrubs because she has to get the blood off, her blood, she can't let him walk around in a shirt that's dirtied by her blood, she has to clean up her messes, she has to-

She has to-

And then Zuko's there and he's pulling the shirt from her hands and saying something to her that she can't understand but his voice is low and soothing but she can't look at him, can't look at those amber eyes, not when Shizu had eyes so similar to his and - and where even is Shizu now, is he okay, she should have healed him, but he ran away, he called her a witch, he-

"Katara."

It's like she's in some sort of fog and Zuko's voice is far away from her but now it's coming nearer and there he is, right before her, with both hands holding her head, forcing her to look at him and he's saying something but she can only stare at his lips and try to make out what on earth he is saying because she can't hear-

"Katara. Hey. I'm here. It's okay, I'm here."

His thumbs trace soothing patterns over her cheeks and she finally musters up the courage to meet his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it? What happened?"

She's back in reality now.

Her breathing is uneven and far too fast. He seems to notice because he leans forward just a bit, holds eye contact with her.

"Hey," he says again, "breathe with me. Okay? Breathe in."

He takes a deep breath in and she looks down to his chest to see it filling with air before she returns to his eyes and does the same.

"And breathe out."

She breathes out, letting the air escape her lungs, and concentrates solely on that and the color of his eyes. Looking at them, she realizes, is like a sunrise all on its own. Somehow that calms her.

They repeat the circle a few times, never breaking eye contact, until Katara feels like she has her breath under control again.

His hands glide away from her face and come to rest on her shoulders, a comforting warmth that grounds her.

"Feeling better?"

She takes one last deep breath, closes her eyes, lets it out, opens them, and nods.

"Yeah, I'm... I think I'm okay. Thank you." Her voice has a raspy tone to it and she doesn't know if it's because of all the crying or the retching or the shock. She takes the shirt lying on his lap and turns back to the stream. She may not be dissociating anymore, but she is far from okay. And the shirt does really need washing, if not for the blood, then for the grime and sweat.

Zuko just sits there, watching her; she can feel his burning gaze on her and if she were in any other state of mind, she'd feel uncomfortable. Her hair is all messy in its ponytail - if you could even call it a ponytail anymore - and her eyes must be all puffy and red and swollen. Never mind that she's only wearing her wrappings. But she doesn't care. There are more important matters at hand.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She's half inclined to say no, it's none of your business, to retreat back into her shell, to erect the walls again and shut everyone else out, like she did for years, like she did with her own brother. It was her only coping mechanism then, but - she's here now.

And wasn't he the one to tear these walls down in the first place? That night in the temple? And then they just... ended up talking about fears and their pasts and... everything else. It would feel like a regression if she'd shut him out again.

He won't judge her. She knows that now. Has known it for weeks at this point.

So Katara tells him about the events that transpired in the hours between dusk and dawn, tells him of the racist comments, tells him of Yana, of the little boy, her nighttime adventure into the village's hospital. Of bloodbending.

It isn't something she's mentioned before. Not even that night in the temple. She was vague about it, didn't want to be called a monster when her mind was already repeating that word back to her as if it were a broken record. Now, though... there's no reason not to. It wouldn't feel right to leave it out. So she explains the technique, tells him of Hama, tells him of her mastery, tells him how she was able to slip out of Yana's grasp. How she pulled the heat out of her body to the point where she had died from it.

He just sits there, not interrupting her, giving her his full attention. His face is a mask carefully schooled into a neutral expression and she can't decide whether that's good or bad. Whether she'd like him to be angry or scared or... happy? Even if she doesn't know what there is to be happy about, she just wants him to express something, so she knows where she stands with him.

He doesn't say anything at first, eyes finding the stream. Katara deems his shirt clean enough and awkwardly holds it out again. His gaze finds hers again.

"Here. It's uh... there's no blood left. I'll fix the hole once we're back in camp."

Zuko pulls the water out of the fabric and pushes her hands back. "You didn't have to... it's fine. Really. Take it."

She pulls it over her head again and then, not knowing what to do, moves into a comfortable sitting position beside him, staring at the flowing water.

(She recognizes his scent from where she'd first smelled it, sitting on a beach in the Southern Earth Kingdom. Then, it was unfamiliar, strange, new. Now it's something safe, something comforting, something secure.

She takes a deep breath in.)

Neither of them says anything for a long moment and she anxiously worries her lip. Over the course of the past few weeks, they shared much with each other, but always skirted around the more personal topics. She noticed him holding back, skipping parts in stories, and she did the same. It was a mutually silent agreement.

Now, though... now something seems to have changed. Between them, between whatever this is.

"It wasn't a training accident."

Katara startles and turns her head to find him staring at the stream. "What?"

"The scar," he says without looking up at her. "It wasn't a training accident like so many people assume it was."

He's sitting with his left side to her so she has a full view of the marred skin. To be truthful, she hasn't ever thought that it was an accident. The skin is too deeply charred. No accident would cause that. Someone put his hand there with the purpose to scar. With the purpose to hurt, to burn.

Just like she did in the desert all those weeks ago, she notices it now, too - his scar is shaped like a handprint. Then, she pushed the thought away in favor of lighter conversation. Now, she has no such qualms.

Zuko's scar is in the shape of a handprint and someone with the exact knowledge of what they were doing put it there on purpose.

And so he tells her. Tells her of fathers and war councils and the need to prove himself, to not be the useless heir no one wanted, to be a worthy successor to the throne. Of bending duels called Agni Kai's, fights of fire, fights of honor. Of cruel sisters and an even crueler father, of mothers that disappeared into the night. Of begging for scraps of attention and approval. Of a boy falling to his knees. Of searing heat and melted flesh and cruel laughter.

"I was angry," he explains. "At everything. At the crew and my sister and the too-high price on rice because Earth Kingdom ports didn't like trading with Fire Nation soldiers... and at myself. Mostly at myself. I thought I was the one who did wrong, the one who should be ashamed. That it was all my fault."

And she wants to hug him so bad but settles for a comforting hand on his shoulder instead. His shoulders relax a bit, although his jaw is still clenched tight.

"And then, after all those weeks and months and years at sea... I realized that that anger was wrong. That I should be angry at my father instead. He did this to me. I just spoke my opinion, and nobody should be punished for that. My anger was a cry for help - not only for myself, but for the injustice in the system. For all the people that suffered because of my nation, my family."

When he is finished, the sun is well over the horizon, shining into their faces. Katara finds herself unable to answer, to voice her thoughts out loud.

She knew the Fire Lord was cruel. But she didn't know the extent of that cruelty.

She wants to say I'm sorry. She wants to cry for him and rage at the sister and father who thought they were better than him, at the mother who left him alone in a palace full of vultures. At the absent uncle who never seemed to care beyond his own pain.

But she doesn't.

She knows the words would be vain, shallow. Nothing can make this okay again; it isn't and it never will be. He doesn't need pity, he doesn't need anger on his behalf.

No, he needs something else.

"Thank you."

Her voice is still rough, still more raspy than usual. Zuko finds her eyes, finally, after having his gaze averted for the whole conversation. There's a glint in his eyes and Katara knows she doesn't have to explain what she's thankful for.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for not judging. Thank you for sharing. Thank you for understanding.

And thank you for opening my eyes.

She sees it now, clear as thin ice glinting in the strong summer sun. Her anger is a defense. A coping mechanism. A method of keeping everyone else at bay, to protect herself and her sanity. It's the first thing she retorts to whenever she feels backed into a corner.

But who is she angry at?

At first, she was angry at her situation, the little group she now came to call friends and her brother. Then she learned of other perspectives in the world, of people beyond her own nation with vastly different opinions.

The anger at the Fire Nation is still there - and justified. Her father is gone because of them. Her tribe and the rest of the world are suffering just because one little corner of the world decided their cut isn't enough. It will always be there, and there is a reason for that.

But things rarely ever have only one reason.

There is another one, for this hate of the people who resemble dragons in human form: Hama.

Hama is a complicated topic. Katara admires her. Katara respects her. Katara learns from her. Katara fears her.

And that fear is what funnels her rage, her anger, her fury. It ignites it, like a spark causing an explosion, like one more drop of water finally bringing the barrel to spill.

Hama trained her to do horrible, unimaginable things. Hama showed her what true power meant, gave her her first taste of blood. Forced her to her knees, forced her to pull and push and grip another's essence like she'd grip the water in ice. Forced her to break bones and snap muscles and blood vessels, to control hearts, to control breath, to toy with another's body and life.

Hama taught her how to kill.

And Katara hates her for that.

And that hate had instead been redirected to the Fire Nation and everyone else instead, for making Hama do this to her. When she thinks back, she can still remember conversations and situations where Hama deliberately manipulated her, made her even angrier and used that anger. Used her.

She sees that now for what it is. Just like Zuko, after all those years, learned to see his father's approval for what it really is.

What she has done today is horrible and will always be horrible. There is no way around that. She could tell herself all the excuses in the world and it wouldn't make it better, wouldn't undo it. The only way is forward. To move on and look back at one's mistakes and learn from them.

But who says that she has to do this alone?

They're all scared, they all have their pasts, their stories, their fears and traumas. It's them against the world. They've got nothing but each other.

He offered her salvation once before under a clear night sky and between endless sand dunes. She took it then; she can do so again.

Zuko nods, holds her gaze for a moment, and then she moves forward, wraps her arms around him, and holds tight, feeling him squeeze back.

She doesn't know how long they sit there, holding each other, breathing in each other's scent.

It doesn't matter.

—

Agni's late afternoon rays fall through the window, warming Azula's skin. She is tapping her long nails against the teacup sitting before her on its saucer on the table; a metallic sound in the silence of the room.

The tea in the cup is oolong. She never liked it. But the woman sitting before her does, who she is currently waiting for to finish her rather long sip. If she'd be in a worse mood, she'd make some sharp comment about it.

But the warm afternoon sun and the comforting flickering of fire just in her peripheral vision, plus the fact that she got up on the right side of the bed today, have her in a good mood. So she is patient.

(Azula also hasn't seen her father all day. But she conveniently ignores that fact.)

It also wouldn't do to get on her guest's bad side. As Crown Princess, she is still of superior station, but she knows how it goes behind closed doors when the people think their superiors can't hear. She has ears. And even Father has the necessary foresight to put his charm to use. A few well-placed words often do the job more efficiently than brute force.

Governess Olumi puts her cup down again.

"So," Azula picks the conversation up again, "about the numbers not being met - I had a rise on the prices of rice and vegetables in mind and-"

"Excuse me, princess, but," the governess cuts in, "may I ask how you came to such an idea?"

Azula eyes her. High cheekbones, amber eyes, slick black hair styled in a bun and long slim fingers - the perfect Fire Nation woman. Olumi is here on her second visit this year - all governors report back to the palace in person twice annually. In Yu Dao's case, Governess Olumi has to report to the Crown Princess herself.

She can count herself lucky that said princess is in a good mood today.

"The numbers in the metal department are not being met," Azula repeats with a hint of boredom in her voice. "We have to make up for it in another way. Increasing the prices of things citizens buy daily is the fastest way to do so." It wouldn't make up for the loss of the metal, never mind the coin said metal would bring, but it would bring in some part of the money that will inevitably fail to appear in their coffers this quarter.

Father cannot get the suspicion that she is losing control over the colony he appointed her to govern. She will complete this task dutifully and efficiently, even if it is a punishment.

Governess Olumi raises a carefully shaped eyebrow. It's just a twitch, really, but Azula doesn't miss it. Doesn't miss the glint in her eyes that speaks of steel either.

"That, of course, is true, Your Highness. But if you would allow me one question?"

She's already asked one so Azula just waves her hand in an allowing gesture.

"What makes you think that the fastest solution is the better one?"

It seems so obvious a question. A shallow one, too.

But then again - maybe not.

Azula holds eye contact. The governess is twenty or so years older than herself, with plenty more experience in the field of governing a colony. She knows exactly how the governess must have felt once she got the news she would be working with the princess, appointed to the task by the Fire Lord himself - useless, unable to do her job. Humiliated at having to listen to someone much younger and much less experienced than her.

Azula searches for those signs, of humiliation, of shame. It wouldn't be easy to spot - no man or woman in a high position in the Fire Nation gives away their emotions easily. That would be a death sentence. But she grew up in her father's court, surrounded by the most powerful people in the nation, in the world - by vultures and sycophants. She learned from the best. If she cannot spot those tells, those signs, then no one can. Then there simply are none.

And, alas, there appears to be no shame, no malice. There is something else there, though, hidden under the perfect mask of a noblewoman.

Something she has only seen before in Uncle and Mother. She scoffed then but she cannot scoff now. So she presses her lips into a thin line instead.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she retorts. "It is the most efficient one. Good factory workers take long to train, longer even when it comes to specialties. Metalwork is not easy work." A work for peasants, yes, but even Azula realizes that it takes skill to craft a good weapon. "Quality over quantity, always. We cannot just make skilled workers appear out of thin air. Until there are more, we have to do something else."

Never mind the fact that there is a sickness currently spreading in Yu Dao, with many families forced to quarantine to keep the sickness from spreading. Coronian Cough, they call it - a disease masquerading as a simple common cold but turning out to be something much deadlier. Supposedly brought in from the east by sparrow-bats, and now running rampant in the lower classes of Yu Dao and a few other colonies in close proximity.

The working class is the one the war machine of the Fire Nation relies on at its core, runs on, feeds on. Azula knows this. Unlike Ozai, she sees efficiency and practicality for what it is, and doesn't hide behind a mask of pride and superiority. She is practical. Always has been.

The disease, naturally, causes the poor to become even poorer. Shopkeepers and vendors cannot keep their shops and stalls open, workers cannot earn their living. No one can afford anything, not even the barest necessities, which leads to people dying, which leads to outsiders refusing to ship resources into the colony out of fear of infection (not that anyone has the money to pay them anyway), which leads to the colony not meeting the standards it usually maintains. And that leads to the royal coffers not being as full as they usually are.

Hiking up the prices on basic supplies will no doubt cause even more despair. There are already riots on the streets. But what else is there to do? The numbers have to be met. Father expects them to. Father expects her to.

"Very well, but you did not answer my question, Your Highness."

Azula raises an eyebrow. "I believe I just did, Governess." And there's an edge to her tone because she is getting annoyed. Hypothetical questions don't help anyone, least of all her. "It is the most efficient way to meet the standards."

"But what of the consequences?" comes the retort. "The people are suffering. Both under the war effort - especially for what is to come this late summer -, and the Coronian Cough. This will cause protests, riots even. The people will step out of line and chaos will reign."

Azula painfully refrains from rolling her eyes. As if she doesn't know that.

"Careful there. I may get the idea that you are not fully supportive of what we have planned for summer's end," she says because watching someone squirm never fails to satisfy her.

Olumi doesn't squirm.

Instead, she flashes her a smirk with too much steel in it to be simply polite. On any other day, Azula would have burned her. But she has to admit - she is impressed. Mildly, that is. But impressed nonetheless. Governess Olumi does not seem scared or intimidated by her. She walks a tightrope on being respectful in front of royalty.

Of course, that alone would be enough reason to accuse her of treason and get her thrown in prison, if not executed. But there's a glint in her eye, a familiar glint, and her instincts tell her that treason is not what she is speaking of. And Azula has always had good instincts.

"A mere governess would not deem herself capable enough to assume, Your Highness. I am merely speaking of the people and human nature." Which isn't a direct answer to Azula's question. It's a carefully sidestepped reply but her senses still don't scream betrayal.

No, they scream something else.

And Azula finally recognizes that glint in amber eyes, the careful way the corner of her lips is turned up.

Lessons. This is a lesson.

Not the way Father teaches lessons with a firm hand and fire and threats. But in the way Mother and Uncle tried (and failed) to do - with patience and tea and far too many hypothetical questions.

Olumi is not humiliated or ashamed or feeling insulted - she is using this opportunity to teach Azula how to govern a colony. And, in addition, how to govern a whole nation.

Azula takes a second to think about that.

She should feel insulted. What does a lesser noble think she can teach her, the Crown Princess, the fire bending prodigy, Father's golden child? Her future Fire Lord and great leader?

But she is doing it in subtle ways. If Azula wouldn't have paid more attention, she wouldn't have picked up on it.

And by the way Olumi's eyes hold hers, she knows that Azula just figured it out. Which also means that the governess already has all the answers and is just waiting for her to catch up.

Which is... a new concept. She has never had to catch up to anyone. She had always been the one who set the standard. But then again, no one ever tried teaching her how to govern a country.

Father lets her sit in on war councils and hears her opinions - or did, anyway, because that definitely is not the case right now - and hired the best tutors in the whole Fire Nation to teach her history and firebending and military tactics and geography and other things he deems necessary.

Mother and Uncle tried to teach her... she doesn't know what exactly; she made herself scarce as soon as she heard that tone in their voices, and then Mother was gone and Uncle vanished, but she is sure it wasn't anything important anyway. It was Mother and Uncle, that is explanation enough.

But no one has ever actually bothered to teach her how to do the simple things of leading a country. The things that are related to taxes and prices on groceries and what to do in case of disease. Things that aren't directly related to the war and military strategies.

Not that she'd ever ask for help, of course. But now that she is actively, for the first time in her life, thrust into a situation where she has to deal with how to govern people and get them to behave and function accordingly... now she sees that lack, her lack. Sees that gap in her knowledge.

And Azula is proud, yes, but she is not so prideful as to deem herself all-knowing. If there is an opportunity to learn, then she will take it and improve herself. Only the weak remain stationary. To be strong is to improve constantly and to be on the move, always.

(She is also glad that Olumi chose this approach. It is similar to Mother's and Uncle's, yes, and that does irk her, but in that same way it is also so completely different from the way Father does it, and that, for some reason, makes it easier to breathe and accept that fact. Not that she would ever say this out loud, of course.)

The lesson today stands as clear as glass before her; handling quickly will only end in disaster, even if it seems to be the right decision at first glance. To think of the big picture, she has to first disassemble it into its individual parts, study it, understand it, and then put it back together to truly see benefits on a big scale.

(She gets a feeling this is not only applicable to this specific problem. She will keep it in mind for later.)

Raising the prices on basic groceries will lead to even more chaos among the people. Riots and protests against the government will escalate, which will shut the whole colony, or large parts of it, down. Then the numbers will definitely not be met.

No, they need to approach this differently. Not with brute force, but with subtlety.

"Governess Olumi," she finally says with a smirk of her own, "what did you have in mind to solve this little problem of ours?"

The governess, she thinks, is someone she could get used to. Perhaps overseeing a colony is not only a punishment but a learning opportunity.

(She is under no misconception that this was intentional on Father's part. Father meets resistance with brute force. He is not subtle. Would he have wanted her to learn things not related to tactics and strategies, he would have appointed her a teacher. Alas, he did not. But Azula has always been good at making opportunities.)

—

The estate stands on a rocky overhang overlooking various cliffs, the grey volcanic rock taken over by grass and vines. The white marble walls shine in the sunlight and the red-tiled roofs, adorned with gold at the edges, reflect Agni's warm rays. It is the first ostentatious house they have come across in the Fire Nation and the red and gold accents wake something feeling like home in his chest. Late afternoons spent in the gardens under the warm rays of the sun, feeding turtleducks, reading scrolls, playing with his sister. A time where he didn't yet know of the hardships he would have to endure, a time where the war was distant, a stranger, a whisper of greatness in the breeze.

The high gate surrounding the estate and shielding it from visitors towers ominously over them but Zuko does his best to not let that discourage him.

As he knocks on the gate with the gilded lion knocker - definitely designed to intimidate - , he catches Sokka's eye.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he whispers, blue eyes wide and wary. Zuko nods in return, takes in a deep breath, and swallows while he waits.

His friend's caution is justified - Fire Nation nobles are the kind of people they're trying to avoid. But he has a feeling that this one can help them in their quest. Or, at least, provide a home for a day with real beds and perhaps a bath.

Zuko has never been lucky, but this has only taught him to rely on knowledge and experience rather than on lucky guesses. He hopes he is not wrong in this case.

A man dressed in dark brown robes with gold sewn into the fabric and a heavily adorned collar opens the gate. His hair is greyer than Zuko remembers it to be, his sideburns just a bit longer.

"Can I help you?" He looks from Zuko to the others standing just a step behind him, no doubt all tense and wary, ready to flee at a moment's notice.

Zuko swallows.

"Fat, right?"

The man raises his eyebrows. "And you are?"

"Prince Zuko." The words are hard to speak, almost don't leave the safety of his mind.

(When was the last time he said them out loud?)

He is breaking the terms of his banishment by setting foot in the Fire Nation. By decree of the Fire Lord, this man before them would have the right to kill him right here where he stands.

Spirits - he is dead, officially. A dead man walking - in both senses. He would laugh if the situation weren't so dire.

He can feel the muscles in his body tense, can feel his legs widen slightly to better ground his stance. Run or fight - he is prepared for both should this man choose to attack.

Neither happens.

"I assume you are here to speak to Master Piandao?"

He doesn't relax but lets out a tense breath, then nods. "I am. It's... it's important."

The others had frowned at him last night when he suggested they all go visit the town of Shu Jing and the castle of his old swordmaster. And they were right - they have no reason to trust a Fire Nation noble. But Zuko remembers summers spent at this estate, training, painting, drinking tea and having long conversations. His younger self learned much here, but there are certain things he failed to pick up. His older, current self recognizes this now.

Piandao could be a potential ally. And they need all the help they can get. Their deadline is drawing to a close.

Fat surveys them a few more moments, keeping his face carefully neutral, not letting them in on the shock of seeing his disgraced and previously thought dead prince standing before him, before stepping aside and letting them pass. The walk across the white tiled courtyard sends many memories to the forefront of his mind - there he had his first lesson in swordsmanship, over there he and Piandao had often had tea, and there by the wall he had spent hours training his katas.

The last time he had been here, he had been a different man.

Behind him, he can sense the wary and cautious steps of the others, paired with awed looks at the sheer vastness of this place. The estate certainly belies Piandao's own preference for simplicity.

They step inside and walk through wide halls and by ornate tapestries depicting lush landscapes. It is more luxury than he has seen in years, and he suddenly feels very small.

At last, Fat leads them to a wide room open to one of the two gardens, the roof held up by massive pillars, letting the warm summer breeze whistle through.

And there he is - sitting by a small table, meditating. Piandao. His old swordmaster.

His topknot is as meticulous as always, and although Zuko hasn't seen him in years, he does not seem to have aged much. His hair is still as black as night, his short beard still evenly trimmed. He does see a few more wrinkles around his grey eyes, though - combined with the dark skin an unusual combo for Fire Nation nobles.

"Master Piandao. Prince Zuko and his friends."

The tension that had dissolved a little in these past few minutes reliving past memories and comparing the estate to the last time he had been there, comes back like a heavy stone connecting with the ground after a long fall. His shoulders tense, and the dread settling in leaves a sour taste on his tongue.

Piandao doesn't move for a moment and Zuko collectively holds his breath with all the others behind him.

Then he turns his head. Surveys him with intelligent eyes and a calm expression that Zuko never figured out how to read.

After several more moments, he finally speaks.

"My prince." He inclines his head but doesn't bow, a gesture that would be seen as disrespectful. Were he a real prince. Were he not breaking the terms of his banishment. But, alas, he isn't and he is, so he doesn't take offense.

"May I ask what brings you and your companions here? The last I heard, you were banished from these lands. Dead even, in a tragic shipwreck." Pindao's voice is calm and even, almost soothing. It betrays no emotion - an ability Zuko always envied.

He swallows and ignores the tight knot in his stomach, inclines his head respectfully. A student to his former master. "Master, I came here seeking refuge. I have reason to believe that you can be of help to me and my friends."

Piandao's eyebrows lift. "And what reason would that be?"

Zuko's eyes flicker over to where Fat stands in the shadows, watching - a reaction the swordsman notices.

"Fat, I believe you can leave us. Thank you." Said servant bows and leaves the room.

Now comes the hard part.

"As you know, I have spent many summers here," Zuko begins, desperately praying that he doesn't mess this up. So much hinges on his ability to convey his thoughts and intentions - an ability that is, on a normal day, barely existent. "You have taught me much, Master. Not just in the ways of how to hold a sword, but in how to treat others with respect and dignity. You have taught me to see for myself, to fight for what I think is right. And I... I-" He can feel himself stumble over his own words and clears his throat.

"In exile, I learned many things. Things I think you would agree with. I am fighting for what I believe is right and just and I... I came here to seek your help. Not as a prince of my nation but simply... me. Your student. I don't have ties to the royal house anymore, and so I humble myself before you - please listen to what I have to say. It is very important."

He ends with a bow, forming the flame with his hands - a gesture, once part of his daily life, he hasn't performed in ages. Sweat trickles from his forehead.

He didn't trip over his words like he feared he would but he has never been the best speaker so what if Piandao turns him away? What if he attacks him? What if he recognizes his friends behind him for who they are and rats them all out to the Fire Lord? His father would kill him for this and Azula... he doesn't want to think about what his little sister would do. The knot in his stomach tightens, caging his insides.

If their mission to save the world ends here, this will all be his fault. He was the one proposing they come here, the end of the world, the end of the Avatar - this all would be on him. He can't... he can't deal with that, he doesn't know how to deal with that, he-

"Rise, Prince Zuko." Piandao's voice cuts through his racing thoughts, brings him back to reality. His heart is like a sparrowkeet in his chest - drumming ominously, like the wings of a giant phoenix or those of a dragon about to consume him with its flames.

Piandao eyes the people standing behind Zuko and he has to force down the urge to make himself seem taller, to focus the master's attention on him and him alone. He has a responsibility. He brought them here and so he has to make sure they all get out in one piece.

Then, finally, Piandao's eyes find his again, grey on gold. He rises from his seat.

"You have certainly caught my attention. Come with me. There is someone who I imagine would like to speak to you."

As they follow Piandao through the halls and up several stairs, Zuko thinks he might faint. There is no one in the entire Fire Nation that would like to speak to him - his crew is dead; his father can't be here, otherwise there would be guards lining the halls. Mai? Ty Lee?

But that can't be - why would they be here? How could they have known he'd be here? Is Piandao leading them into a trap?

And Mai and Ty Lee were never really his friends, they were Azula's, he just-

Azula.

Oh no.

What if she is here?

It would certainly be like her to be at the place where he least expects her to be, she has always appeared out of seemingly nowhere when they were younger, has always been ten steps ahead of him - but how? How did she know? Were they recognized? Were they not careful enough?

This is all on him, he's the reason the world will burn-

Piandao comes to a stop before a big, double-winged door, adorned with golden lotuses.

"I believe you were not completely right, earlier," he says, turning and locking Zuko's gaze with his. He can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his breathing becoming faster and shallower. Behind him, Toph shifts and through the haze that his racing thoughts have raised, it is hard to interpret why.

"You did not cut all ties with the royal house."

And that's it, they're all going to be imprisoned and killed and this will all be his fault. He interpreted his former master's intentions wrong, he led them right into a trap.

Oh, Zuzu, Azula's voice mocks in his head, always so naive. Always failing.

His muscles tense, he shifts his weight, flames at his hands, heart beating rapidly as Piandao knocks on the door and then opens it.

This is it, this is the moment where they will be attacked and how could he be so stupid, did he learn nothing in all those years in exile-

"Uncle?"

—

Azula is fuming.

She watches the last of the ministers exit the war room before turning a corner and biting her tongue.

The protests in Yu Dao have escalated. People have become violent, have destroyed shops and other property, have attacked guards and refused to go to work. The whole colony is drowning in chaos.

And she had been prepared to fix that. Had been prepared to handle the problems of her colony.

But instead, Father hasn't even listened to her. Hasn't even let her speak. She and Governess Olumi developed a plan to slowly but surely restore the colony's former stability. It would have been fine. It wouldn't fix everything and in, say, two days from now, there'd still be problems but it would be better in the long run. And that is what counts.

Azula is no fool - she knows the war takes its toll on everyone, the Fire Nation included. Their society is based purely on war - without it, they'd collapse. And, frankly, the economical situation the Fire Nation currently finds itself in isn't the best. People are suffering, nature is being polluted, spirits are angered. Numbers aren't being met, guards are corrupt, food shortages are common. The war machine is absolute - it demands everything.

It can't go on like this.

She doesn't care about the other nations. She doesn't care that their people are being killed and oppressed and driven out of their homes. The Fire Nation is the greatest nation on earth - the Great March of Civilisation is their duty as Agni's children to the world. Earth Kingdom people have a better life after the Fire Nation takes over their villages and brings order to their unruly lives.

But better doesn't have to mean good.

She sees it now, the fact that she'd known all along but always pushed out of her mind, never dared to even think, let alone speak out loud - Father is running this nation into the ground.

He promised her an empire. At this rate, there will be no empire left for her to inherit.

Azulon had managed. The economy had been better when he sat on the throne. But dear old Grandpa is dead and now Ozai has his place and he, frankly, has a few different ideas as to how to manage the war and contribute to it.

For one - brute force. Hit hard and fast and don't stop until your enemy is down. That approach certainly does work but not always - and especially not when their enemy is of Earth, used to waiting, used to enduring.

Subtlety often works much better. Pity that Father doesn't make use of it.

This is what he has her for, after all. She is his right hand, his perfect weapon.

But now he won't even make use of her.

She knows he is still punishing her, still hasn't forgiven her for her very short stint in the Earth Kingdom and her embarrassingly fast return with empty hands.

But he knows her better than that - knows she will stop at nothing to get what she wants (what he wants). He should know her better than that.

Apparently, he doesn't. Or he does but chooses to ignore it, in which case he is a fool.

But a fool with a crown is a dangerous one.

If he'd just give her another chance-

But there are no second chances. Not with Ozai.

She missed her first one. Now, she won't get another one.

Azula comes to a stop beside a pillar, bites the inside of her cheek in thought.

It can't go on like this. He can't keep ignoring her. The war meeting was embarrassing. Everyone noticed how he didn't let her speak. Everyone. She can't let it stay like this - she has a reputation to uphold. She has to prove herself. It doesn't matter that she already did that a hundred times, it doesn't matter that she is Agni's chosen, a prodigy, brilliant, smart, ruthless, violent.

(It should matter, mutters something in her mind.)

If he won't give her a second chance then she will make one for herself. She will not give up like this.

Interior Minister Xiam had proposed exactly what she'd been trying to avoid - strike the protestors down with violence and force the people to work. Ignore their cries for food and better conditions.

This would only lead to more chaos. Their guards are strong but they wouldn't be able to take on an angry mob - which the populace of Yu Dao is shaping up to become. Throw in some angry earthbenders and they'd soon find themself with a full-scale rebellion in not just one colony on their hands.

Why couldn't anyone see that? They are ministers, for Agni's sake. She would have thought a bit of political thinking would be required for that position.

But Father has approved - because of course - so that is what they are going to do.

Well, not on her watch. She needs to find a way to make her father listen to her and see reason. She needs to get into his good graces again.

Looking out of the window and onto Caldera City, a smirk forms on her lips, just as devious, just as cunning as the plan currently developing in her mind.

—

Sitting with his uncle, who vanished right after Lu Ten's death and abandoned a 600-day-siege, is weird, to put it frankly. Zuko didn't think of him as dead, no, didn't manage to bring himself to think of the kind old man in his memories this way. It's the same way he thinks about his mother - not dead but not quite alive either. Just... not there.

He's sure his uncle doesn't feel much better, either. His expression is hard to read over the table with the steaming tea on it, but Zuko thinks that he can see sadness in those golden eyes. Or perhaps nostalgia. Iroh has always been a nostalgic man - at least that is what he knew about him when he was younger and had last seen him.

But he is a different man now and, without doubt, so is Iroh.

He takes a sip of his tea, feels the warmth of the white china in his hand. The motif is pretty - golden lotus flowers. The tea is even better, and just as he remembers - he has never much cared for it, it's all just leaves in hot water, after all, and he himself has never figured out how to make it taste good. Tea on the road is just a way to get something hot to drink that isn't water or flavorless, so the taste itself has never really mattered aside from the fact that something vaguely resembling it is there.

But Iroh doesn't think this way, and Lu Ten certainly didn't either. Like father, like son, he supposes, and suppresses a laugh at the irony when he thinks about his own father, who never cared for tea as well.

"I heard," Uncle begins with a tentative and slow tone Zuko has rarely heard him use, like he is testing the waters and doesn't know how to behave appropriately, "that you were banished?"

Ah. Of course, he'd start with that. It's only fair, he supposes.

He sets the cup down and focuses his eyes on Uncle, gold on gold. "What do you know?" It's easier to fill in gaps than to build a base, easier to stroke the flames that are already there.

"There was a war meeting. You behaved... inappropriately. Ozai saw it fit to challenge you to an Agni Kai. When you refused to fight, he banished you and..." Uncle's eyes get stuck on the left side of his face.

Zuko forces down the urge to turn his head, to hide, to snap. "And that is all you know?"

"Is there more to know?"

"You didn't answer my question." He didn't mean for his voice to sound so defensive, but... he can't think straight when someone is staring at him openly like that. Even if it's Uncle. Maybe especially because it's Uncle.

The man is like a stranger to him. He hasn't seen him in years and even before that, hasn't spent much time with him. Iroh had been the friendly uncle who was never home and always out on some campaign and that was that.

Uncle turns his cup absentmindedly before turning his gaze to Zuko once more.

"Yes. That is all I know. The message of your... cowardice was spread throughout the entire nation. A disgraced and scarred prince sailing the waters outside his nation, looking for the honor he never had. But nothing more. I imagine Ozai had quite a say in what gossip left the palace."

Of course he does. He's the Fire Lord. He's Ozai.

He can feel his hands getting warmer and promptly takes them from the cup as to not scald the liquid inside and alert Iroh of his current state of mind.

Talking about it is never easy.

But he managed to with Katara. He doesn't know what exactly prompted him to share his story with her, she didn't ask. But she was scared and alone and feeling guilty and he'd wanted to help her. Had wanted to offer her something in return for this grave secret she just shared with him. Telling her was something like a catharsis for him. She wouldn't judge him, wouldn't pity him. She never did, not after that first night at the Eastern Air Temple. And then he had held on tight in hopes of never letting go.

But this isn't Katara. This is Uncle.

Uncle, who vanished into thin air after his son's death. Uncle, who abandoned the siege and his men instead of getting revenge for Lu Ten. Uncle, who is now sitting before him with an unreadable expression on his face.

Who is this man? What are his morals? What are his beliefs?

Zuko doesn't support the war, doesn't support Ozai. Not anymore. He has seen too much, has lived through too much. He wants peace and he wants it for all nations, not just his own.

But what does Iroh want?

And, most importantly - how much of a threat is he?

The other's and Piandao are all downstairs to give him and his uncle time to talk. He could make it down there in seconds and his friends would immediately know what is happening. Aside from Fat and a few other servants, there is only Piandao and Uncle. They could take them.

But Uncle is the Dragon of the West. Feared General, Master firebender.

That is something to be wary of. Besides, he doesn't want to fight family. He will if he has to, but that doesn't mean that he likes doing it.

But he has already taken a risk, hasn't he? Coming here was risky. He might go all the way while he's at it.

And so he explains just what exactly transpired on that fateful day that would change his whole life. How he fought for a division of strangers but not against his own father. Of waking up on a ship full of strangers freshly burned with no home to go back to. How he spent years aimlessly sailing, searching for something and not knowing what. Of getting attacked by a sea serpent and finding himself stranded on an Earth Kingdom beach.

He stops there because this is all his Uncle asked. He has to be cautious.

Uncle hums into his tea. "And I assume you eventually ran into your friends, who are currently downstairs? How did that happen? Why did you decide to come back to the Fire Nation?"

"Because I've had a lot of time to think. I've seen many things and I..." Zuko takes a deep breath and steels himself. "I came to the realization that the war is wrong. We're not bringing greatness to the other nations, we're taking it from them. Everyone involved is suffering, the Fire Nation included. It has to stop. That's why I'm here. Because I hoped that Piandao could help us."

There. It's all out. Now the only thing left to do is wait and prepare to fight and run. He takes a deep breath, releases it a second later while warily watching his uncle.

Iroh is holding his gaze, alternating between looking into his left eye and then his right. It's irritating and frankly does nothing to mute the rising panic within him but he does his best to sit still and stoically. Azula always said he had an expressive face, and that is dangerous.

At last, Uncle finally sighs and breaks eye contact, opting to look down at the table instead.

"My nephew," he says, and the word sounds unfamiliar in his ears, "I think we have much in common."

And that is... a good sign? Zuko doesn't know but at least it means that he didn't just doom them all to a painful death.

He keeps quiet to give his uncle time to explain.

"After Lu Ten died, I was devasted," Uncle continues. "My son was the most important thing to me. He was all that was left of your Aunt Sena. I... I lost my will to live. I did not want to see any more fighting, any more blood spilled. I couldn't bear to look at the wall that had taken my son from me. I couldn't bear to stand in the halls of the palace he had once wandered, the room he had slept in. I knew I couldn't go back. I knew I couldn't continue the siege. And so I disappeared into the night. I wandered the Earth Kingdom for years, never quite settling down. Like you, I learned many things. I spoke to many people. And, just like you, I came to the realization that the war was not what we made it out to be. That the balance of the world had been deeply disturbed and that we were the cause of it. I went on to the Fire Nation and found Piandao, an old friend of mine. He was just as tired of fighting and so we saw it a good fit for me to finally settle down. And now here we are."

So. That settles it then. Piandao and Uncle are allies and Zuko is not going to die a traitor. At least not now, not on their watch.

Zuko lets out a tense breath and relaxes his muscles. They wouldn't have to fight and run. He didn't doom them all by bringing them here. His gut feeling had been right.

And yet...

Yet he can't bring himself to feel happy. Relieved, yes, at the realization that they are safe here, but happy? No.

This doesn't feel like a happy family reunion between two people who had been believed dead. This feels... different. Maybe he should be happy. But he isn't.

He can't be. Not when all these doubts and accusations nag at his mind and he knows he should be more sympathetic but he can't bring himself to be. Spirits, this is all so hard.

"When I heard of what happened to you," Uncle goes on, "I was horrified. I always knew Ozai wasn't a good father, but I never would have imagined..." His eyes fix themselves onto his scar again. "Zuko, I am so sorry for what happened-"

And something in him just snaps.

"Did you say sorry to Lu Ten?"

Uncle looks at him for a moment, mouth hanging open, unsure of what to say. "I am not sure what-"

"No, you didn't. The Earth Army killed him and instead of getting revenge for his death, you just left," Zuko cuts him off, voice sharp and hard and cold. Azula would be proud. "You made his death worthless. He died for nothing." And he almost spits the words.

Iroh's eyes are calculating and ah, there's the general.

"I thought you were against the war?" And of course that is what he focuses on. Zuko almost laughs.

"I am. But that doesn't change the fact that you just abandoned him. Just like you abandoned me and Azula."

And that is the real topic of the conversation and the reason why he can't feel happy about seeing his uncle. Uncle just left. He didn't care about Lu Ten, otherwise he would have avenged him. He didn't care about the soldiers under his command, otherwise he would have stopped at the first death and wouldn't have put a royal life over that of a commoner. He didn't care about Zuko and Azula, otherwise he would have come back to the palace. He didn't even care about his crown, his throne, his birthright, his country.

He just left.

Never give up without a fight. It feels like a lie.

Zuko holds Iroh's gaze for a moment, hard and unrelenting. He can endure. Can Uncle?

Iroh looks away. The silence hangs heavy in the air, the pressure so thick you could cut it with a knife. Then:

"I did not abandon Lu Ten." Uncle's voice is a quiet, resigned thing. "He wouldn't have wanted me to spill even more blood in this pointless war."

"But you didn't know that then. You still thought the war was right when he died. And you still left."

Uncle looks up. "Zuko, I will not apologize for abandoning the siege. I know you are angry. I know you think Lu Ten died for nothing and that this is my fault. But the facts are that his death was pointless because the war is pointless. Me continuing the siege would have made no difference. I know that this is hard to digest. He was my son. It was the hardest thing to accept, and I know it hurts. But neither of us can change it."

"But you didn't do anything to change the situation. The throne was rightfully yours. You could have become Fire Lord and ended the war. Made sure that something like that never happened again, on both sides. Instead, you... what? Drank tea while hundreds of people died every day?"

Zuko knows that it's not fair. Knows that he is being cruel and mean. But Agni is he angry. Uncle could have made a difference. Uncle could have ended this whole war years ago. Could have prevented him being banished and burned.

A small voice in the back of his mind hisses hypocrite. But that isn't fair. He was banished, without any power, no one would take him seriously, people thought of him as a coward... it isn't fair. Nothing of this is.

"I do not know if I would have ended the war, would I have returned to the palace. My mindset at that time was different than it is today. You have to take into account that Azulon never-"

"But you could have made a difference. You certainly would have been a better Fire Lord than Ozai, war or no war. Your country needed you, Azula and I-" He cuts himself off, bites his tongue, but the statement hangs heavy in the air. Azula and I needed you.

So many things would have been different had Iroh not abandoned everything. Zuko knows that he had just lost his son, can't even imagine how much pain Iroh must have been in. And here he is, tearing all those wounds open again.

Being hopeless isn't unfamiliar to him. He, too, lost everything after all. But he built himself back up, no matter how many times he got struck down, no matter how hard it was. He gritted his teeth and pressed on. And Uncle... didn't.

And he can't ignore that. It hurts too much to. It doesn't feel fair to him or Azula or Lu Ten or all the soldiers that lost their lives in this stupid, bloodthirsty war.

Anger has always been his first reaction to everything. It's safe, familiar. He became much calmer since living in the Earth Kingdom but he still finds himself resorting to it at times.

And seeing Uncle sitting here before him, calm and in fine robes, while Zuko himself had to fight for every scrap, just does something to him. It just causes some hurt part in him to snap.

"Zuko," Uncle says, calm and collected, "I am so sorry. I made a mistake that I will regret for the rest of my life. I-"

But he has had enough.

"I don't need your pity," he cuts him off, standing up abruptly, tea cold and forgotten. "And sorry isn't gonna cut it."

And with that, he leaves the room.

—

Night is falling, Sokka and Piandao are in an animated conversation about swords and drawing and why those two are connected, Aang is chiming in on the drawing part and holding back on the swords part, and Toph is bored.

Granted, it could be worse.

Katara besides her is nervously shifting every few seconds, never quite sitting still, hands fisting in the fabric of her skirt.

"Sweetness, if you don't start sitting still and stop driving me crazy, I will encase you in rock until you can't move at all," Toph hisses because really, it's annoying.

Katara stills. "Sorry," she says, "I just..."

They both know what she means, but still. "I don't care. They're fine."

She can't see the raised eyebrow, but she can certainly sense it.

"You sure?"

"As sure as the fact that I could immobilize you in less than a second."

"So they're fine up there? No one's fighting, no one's having a heart attack..."

She stretches out her senses again, testing, probing, looking, searching. Earth waits, earth tells, and Toph listens.

Eh. No one's fighting, but Zuko's heart rate is that of a hamster-mouse spotted by a hawk. Katara doesn't need to know that, though. It's bad enough as is.

"Yep. They're just sitting and talking."

"Okay. Good. That's... that's good."

And the nervous shuffling resumes. Toph lets out a sigh and leans back, letting her head fall back and staring at what she assumes is the ceiling.

After what seems like ages, the two dunderheads up there finally move. Or, at least one does. Is that... yes, definitely Zuko, standing up rather abruptly, muscles tense and heart going way too fast. That doesn't seem to have been a pleasant conversation. He leaves the room - or rather, storms out of the room -, but doesn't come back here to the others and Piandao, opting instead to take a different set of stairs out into one of the gardens. The stances he assumes there in the few following minutes remind her of rather aggressive bending katas.

Looks like good old Sparky needs some alone time. Better not tell Katara then.

The other one - an old man Zuko had called Uncle - is still sitting in the room, heart rate slightly raised, muscles just as tense, staring at nothing. Then, he gets up and makes his way down the stairs and to the hall where she and the others are currently sitting. They all fall silent when he enters the room.

"I believe we haven't had the pleasure to meet yet," he says. "I am Iroh, Zuko's uncle." He bows and the others give respectful nods from their sitting positions.

"How did the conversation with Prince Zuko go?" Piandao asks.

"Well," comes the answer, "my nephew and I had a lot to catch up on. Still do, in fact. Those things take time. And while we may not see eye to eye yet... I believe we have common goals. It would be most beneficial if you would extend your hospitality to our guests and let them stay here for a few days. We could greatly benefit from each other."

She can feel Piandao nod. "Of course. I will have servants prepare the rooms. Feel free to make yourselves at home."

Sokka's heart rate spikes, no doubt out of excitement of getting to stay in a castle with a swordmaster.

"Where's Zuko?" Katara asks. Iroh tenses for a second before sighing. "My nephew needs some time alone, Miss...?"

"Katara," she supplies. "But, uh... only Katara, please."

Iroh nods. "Very well then, Katara. I don't know where Zuko is currently, but he'll blow off steam and come back soon enough, I am sure." Toph can feel her tense at the implication but otherwise doesn't say anything. And Toph is curious herself. What exactly happened up there?

But she also knows that family matters can be very, very complicated, so she won't press. Katara, thank Oma and Shu, is apparently of the same opinion and stays seated. Even if she doesn't stop fidgeting and when on earth did she become so worried about him?

Is that a thing now, between them?

Toph is soon distracted from the thought, though, as Piandao calls for dinner.

—

Katara finds him in one of the gardens, practicing his swordplay. It's mesmerizing, the way he moves as if the swords were extensions of his arms, the way he smoothly goes from one kata to another and even incorporates some water- and firebending moves. She leans against one of the pillars and watches him for a moment, and no, that definitely doesn't have anything to do with the fact that he's shirtless or with the way the moonlight makes his pale skin glow silver. Nothing at all.

After a few more moments of watching him from the shadows, she calls out to him.

"I didn't know waterbending katas would translate so well to swordplay."

Zuko stills and turns as she descends the stairs. "You missed dinner. Thought I'd save you some." She holds out the plate she's brought with her. A bowl of rice, some mango, and some other fruit she hasn't yet tried but grabbed anyway because it looked pretty.

He puts his swords away and, sitting down beside her, pulls his shirt over his head again. "Thanks." He grabs the bowl of rice.

Katara gazes up at the stars for a few minutes, letting him eat in peace. The conversation with his uncle obviously didn't go well and she doesn't want to press. But she also knows that she always feels better after talking about problems. She's learned that in the past few months.

"So..." she starts cautiously. "Your uncle. I take it it didn't go well?"

He stiffens, chopsticks pausing in the air for a moment. Then he shakes his head.

"No, it... it didn't." His voice is strained, tired, exhausted.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He sighs, closes his eyes for a moment, and rubs a hand over his face. "It's... it's complicated."

When he doesn't elaborate, she asks, "Complicated how?"

Zuko finishes the bowl and puts it back down, resting his arms on his knees. "It's... I know I should be happy to see him. But I'm not. He..." There's a hurt look in his eyes. "I never really told you who he was, right?"

Katara shakes her head. "No. I mean, he's the Fire Lord's brother, that much is obvious, and his name is Iroh, and I know from back home that he was a general but other than that..."

"Right. So... yeah, he was a general. He terrorized the Earth Kingdom back in his day and laid a 600-day-siege to Ba Sing Se." It's a little hard to think of the kind old man she just had dinner with as a feared and ruthless general but then again, she never thought she'd make friends with the Fire Lord's son.

"What I didn't tell you is that he had a son. Lu Ten. And well, Uncle's older, so he was first in line for the throne, not my father. Lu Ten was fighting at Ba Sing Se's wall. And then, one day, he wasn't." He glances at her. "Earthbenders killed him."

"I'm so sorry," she says because she knows all too well what it feels like to lose family.

"It was... it was hard. He was a great cousin and almost like an older brother to me and Azula. After he died, Uncle just... disappeared. He vanished. He left camp and no one ever saw or heard of him again. The court thought he was dead. And well, shortly after that, my grandfather also died and my father got the throne." He tenses and she senses that there's some backstory there, but she doesn't dare to interrupt.

"And well... I mean, you know how I got my scar. Those few years between those two events were horrible. My mother had just disappeared the same night Azulon died, and... and I was just so alone. Azula and I were starting to grow apart and I was suddenly Crown Prince and there was all this pressure and all these expectations that I could never meet... and I know that Azula was suffering, too. She had Father's favor, yes, and she was perfect in everything and smart and fast and just... everything I could never be, and she and Father - or anyone else for that matter - never missed the opportunity to rub that in my face, but... she was a kid. And she is a natural at firebending but I saw how she overworked herself constantly. Being perfect isn't easy. And we... we really needed someone to tell us that being perfect isn't everything and that love should never be conditional.

"I mean, at the time, I didn't realize that. I thought that everything my father did was justified and that that was just how the world is. But still - it feels like Uncle abandoned us. I know that we're not his children, I know that Lu Ten was, and that losing him hurt my uncle the most, but he... I don't know. It feels like he didn't even try. Like he didn't even think about anyone else except himself. And I know that's unfair, I know it's selfish, but dammit... so many things could have been different had he come back. He would sit on the throne and while I know that wouldn't have automatically fixed things or ended the war, it would have been... it wouldn't have been like it is now. Maybe Azula wouldn't have worked herself to almost death every day, maybe I wouldn't have been banished, maybe the 41st Division never would have been sacrificed...

"It feels like he didn't just abandon us, but his country, too. Those soldiers needed someone who cared. And seeing him sitting here, living a life of luxury, when we so desperately needed him back home... I don't know, it just... does something to me."

Zuko sighs again, voice raspy and strained. Katara doesn't say anything at first, gives him a moment of silence. It's a lot to hear, a lot to think about. She sees Iroh in a different light now.

"I'm sorry," she says at last, again. Hesitantly, she reaches out and takes his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers, squeezing. His skin is warm and smooth, and she lets her head fall against his arm in support. "I'm so sorry, Zuko. And while I know that doesn't fix things, I just..." She doesn't know how to end that sentence, so she trails off.

He tenses for a second before she can feel his muscles relax. He squeezes her hand back and lets the side of his head rest atop hers. "I know. But thank you."

She doesn't know what he's thanking her for, but she doesn't ask. Instead, she continues giving him support. "No, thank you for opening up. That's really brave, you know."

He snorts. "I guess opening up kinda became our thing."

She smiles against the red fabric of his shirt. "Yeah, I guess. And I don't really know what to tell you... your feelings are valid. But your uncle's feelings on this are, too, even if it doesn't seem like it. We all have our reasons. If I were you, I'd try to see things from his perspective. And that doesn't mean you can't still be angry," she adds quickly. "Because you can. Like I said, your feelings on this are justified. He wasn't the only one affected by Lu Ten's death. But he's still your uncle and he's against the war and we really, really need him. And aside from that - he's family. And that counts for something. Not for everything, family can be complicated like that, but… well, we don't know what tomorrow looks like. You don't have to forgive him and I don't want to press you on this but... at least try. You'll regret it if you don't."

She gets lost in thought for a second. After her mother died, she spent days overthinking every interaction they've ever had, regretting every fight, regretting every second she refused to talk to her mother for stupid reasons she can't even remember, regrets every missed opportunity to spend time with her. The same happened after her father's death, and before that, her grandmother's. All those times, she drowned in grief. It felt like some part of her died, too, alongside them.

And while his uncle isn't dead - this is war. Anything could happen. If she can spare someone else that pain, then she will.

A warm thumb rubbing soothingly over her hand brings her back to reality. "I know," Zuko mutters. "I know. I'll try. I just... need time."

She nods in response and together, they sit in silence for a minute, listening to the sounds of the night, lost in thought.

At last, she takes a deep breath and extracts herself from him, instantly missing his comforting warmth. Her eyes find the food tray lying forgotten beside him. Reaching over, she takes one of the fruit slices.

"What's this?"

"Papaya," he answers, following suit and popping a slice of mango into his mouth. "You never had it?"

"Well, they don't exactly grow in the South Pole. Or the Earth Kingdom. So, no." She puts the food into her mouth and chews. After a second, she grimaces.

"What?" Zuko shoots her an amused look. Katara swallows and instantly wishes she had brought water. "Papaya is disgusting. Ew." She wipes her mouth and shoots him a dirty look at his laugh.

"Now that's just blasphemy. Papayas are great."

"Then there's definitely something wrong with your taste buds." She steals the mango slice out of his hand and grins at his appalled expression.

"Pff. More for me then."

And if they break out into a food fight a second later, then that's between them and only them.

Notes:

I think that talk between Iroh and Zuko is one of my favourite scenes in this story. Don't get me wrong, I love Iroh - but he's definitely not the saint the show portrayed him to be, and while it did touch on some of Zuko's anger at Iroh (mostly in S1 and 2), they could have explored it much deeper as they definitely left a lot of things unsaid that perhaps needed to be said, for the growth of both characters - not just Zuko.

Chapter 19: Eighteen

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"...so Avatar Roku told me there was this comet coming at the end of summer and Zuko thinks his dad is definitely gonna use it to do something horrible so it would probably be best if we take him down before then, I guess, and then we went to this library and there was this really creepy owl-"

"Not important, Aang," Zuko interjects.

"Right." Aang takes a deep breath. "So in this library, we found out that there was an eclipse happening before the comet and apparently firebenders lose all their powers when that happens?"

Iroh nods in affirmation.

"So we thought it obvious that we'd try to take down the Fire Lord then," Aang continues. "It only lasts eight minutes, though."

They are all sitting around a big round table in one of the various rooms of Piandao's castle, sunlight filtering in through the window. Breakfast had been an awkward affair - or at least for Zuko. The others had no qualms about happily chattering with their new allies. He supposes he can't be mad - he shouldn't be. He is glad that Piandao and Uncle are helping them, he knows they need all the help they can get. But that doesn't mean that he wants to spend any more time in Uncle's presence than he has to.

He'd promised Katara he'd try, though. So this is what he is doing, even if he doesn't know how he and Uncle will end up in the future. But the most important part right now is making sure that they survive to see that future happen, so he supposes he still has time.

"Invading the capital during an eclipse," Uncle speaks at last into the thoughtful silence that had come over them after Aang's explanation. "A risky affair. We are people of the sun; we have been watching the sky for centuries. My brother certainly knows there is an eclipse coming and has no doubt prepared for it. An invasion on our part is very predictable."

"But so is Ozai's location," Zuko remarks, and tries to be neutral when Iroh's gaze flickers to him. "There are bunkers under the palace, only used for the royal family. It's clear that he'll be there."

Uncle hums in agreement. "Ah, yes, the bunkers. I believe I have only been down there once in my childhood. The tunnels are a complicated maze, and a wrong turn could be fatal. The volcanic gasses down there are very prominent in certain sections."

"But it's worth a try," Sokka insists. "The eclipse is our best chance before the comet comes, predictable or not."

Out of the corner of his eye, Zuko sees Aang sink a little lower into his chair. "Uhm..." he begins in a voice that can only be described as the opposite of confidence. Not a very reassuring tone for an Avatar to have. "Look, I know we've talked about this, but... do we really need to beat the Fire Lord before the comet? I mean, if the invasion during the eclipse doesn't work out..."

"And what exactly makes you say that?" Sokka asks incredulously. "If we're going to take this on with the mindset that we'll lose, then we will."

"I know and I don't want to be negative or anything but... I mean, it's so soon, and if the Fire Lord knows we're gonna be there-"

"How will he know that we'll be there?" Katara asks. "We haven't exactly announced ourselves to the world."

Toph snorts. "Yes, we did. Remember what happened at my parent's house?" She snorts again as they all collectively groan. "Yeah, that. There's no way they haven't snitched on us."

"I also remember all the elemental temples lighting up a few months ago," Pinadao adds. "Somehow, I have a feeling that had to do with the Avatar."

Oh. That. It seems so long ago now, Zuko didn't even think of it.

Aang looks a bit sheepish. "Okay, yes, maybe, but..." He sighs. "The eclipse isn't that far away. We'll need to assemble troops and plan and all that and well, if the Fire Lord knows we're coming anyway, won't that make this all... in vain?"

"Only if we lose," Sokka remarks.

"Yeah, but that could happen," Aang argues. "I mean, I obviously don't want to lose but what if I can't... you know, beat him. Won't invading on a day where he has extra security just make this all even harder?"

Zuko wonders about Aang's unusual negativity for a split second before it dawns on him. Oh, right. Airbender. Fickle. Always running away from problems.

That's what this is. Aang is feeling self-conscious and doubts that he can beat Ozai - which Zuko completely understands - and now wants to stall. Because that is always his first reaction to problems. But he has also never shared that doubt with the rest of the group because it had always seemed so far away. They came to the Fire Nation to gather allies and intelligence but now that they're actually sitting at a table and discussing a plan... well.

Zuko gets it. He really, really does. He feels the same way, although his feelings on the matter are obviously different from Aang's. Ozai is his father and while he doesn't particularly want to add patricide to the list of his crimes... well, he's made peace with the fact that his father needs to go.

Aang, pacifist that he is, obviously hasn't. And now that the day seems sooner and more real than ever, tensions are running high. He can see it in the way Sokka's jaw hardens, Toph's brows crease, Katara stiffens. He feels it in his own tense shoulders.

They all have different approaches when faced with a problem. Toph throws herself headfirst into every problem without a preamble, Zuko waits for half a second more and then does the same, and Katara and Sokka try to find ways around it. But they all have one thing in common - they use violence if necessary. And they don't run away.

Aang... does. Zuko supposes it's not his fault, air is the element of avoidance after all and while one's element doesn't necessarily define all parts of oneself, it certainly does contribute to a lot of it.

But they're in a war, and running away from problems is dangerous. They can't afford that.

Silence falls over them again like a heavy cloak. Not only Zuko has come to the realization what Aang is doing; it seems that everyone else at the table has noticed it, too. And nobody wants to break the silence first and speak out loud what they're all thinking because no one wants to hurt a sixteen-year-old burdened with saving the world.

But that is also running away from the problem, isn't it? They can't spare the Avatar from the heavy truth, no matter how young he is. They all have to play their part and frankly, it would be disrespectful if they'd try to shield him from reality.

That boy has stood in his burned-down home among the skeletons of his people. The time to shield him is long over.

"Aang," he finally says, "I know that this isn't easy, but we've talked about this. The eclipse is our best bet. This war needs to end, and it needs to end soon. I know you're scared, but we need to do this." He holds eye contact with Aang in what is hopefully a firm but reassuring manner.

Aang looks at him for a few seconds, mouth pressed into a thin line, shoulders heavy with invisible weight. Then his eyes start to nervously dart around the room. "But he's your father. I mean, we'd... we'd take down your father, doesn't that-"

"That doesn't matter," Zuko cuts him off with a firm voice. "It doesn't matter who he is, what matters is what he's done. And you know what that is. There is no way around it, Aang. This invasion needs to happen, and it needs to happen on the eclipse."

Even if that day in particular will not only have its predictability as an obstacle. He shudders when he remembers what he's read in scrolls.

Then he feels Iroh's eyes on him and wants to cringe.

"I agree," his uncle says when Aang doesn't answer, and Zuko suppresses the urge to snap at him that he doesn't need his help. "This is a hard burden to bear, but one we all have to bear. But before we can invade, we need a plan, troops, and most importantly of all, intelligence."

"And where are we gonna get that from?" Sokka asks. "We can't just exactly stride into the palace and ask nicely."

"No, we can't. But there's a place where backups of all important events and actions are held."

Zuko racks his brain for any memories concerning that issue but comes up empty. They could certainly break into a general's house but even that won't be a guarantee that they'll find what they need. The war chamber in the palace would be another option. But breaking into the palace would be suicide.

But Uncle speaks before he can ask.

"The Dragonbone catacombs."

—

"Zuko."

He sighs and turns. "Yes?" Uncle stands in the doorway, eyes fixed on him. "Can I speak with you for a second?"

There's no doubt what this is about, and the urge to tell him no and just turn his back is there but... he'd promised Katara. And their conversations where he can open up and be honest and not fear to be judged are something he looks most forward to amidst all the chaos. He knows she'd be disappointed if he'd turn this down. So he agrees and starts walking beside his uncle at a slow pace.

Uncle doesn't immediately say anything, only leads them out into one of the gardens. The bushes and trees are lush and full and green and he's hit with a massive wave of nostalgia. This is where he'd trained all these years ago and he used to climb that tree over there...

Iroh's voice brings him back to reality.

"You are a very brave young man, Zuko," he says. "Not many would choose the hard path over the easy one. Not many would turn against their own family, even if that is what the world needs."

Yeah, well, he's plenty good at walking the hard path. Being alone will do that to you. But he doesn't say that and bites his tongue instead, reminding himself of Katara and what she would think.

"You are ready to take down your own father, are you not?"

So he was right. This is what this is about.

Zuko comes to a stop and holds Iroh's gaze, firm and unwavering. "Yes. The war cannot end with Ozai still on the throne, and he will never abdicate. There's only one way."

He's known this since he accepted that he's been fed lies all his life. Some part of him had always whispered it into his ear when the war came up, but it had hidden itself in the shadows, whether out of kindness or fear he doesn't know. But it can't hide anymore.

And he wants Iroh to know that. There's no doubt about his allegiance anymore, so he doesn't have to fear being outed as a traitor, but still. He wants to make it clear that he will go directly against his family if he has to.

He doesn't want to. But he will. This is war. They all have their choices to make, they all have their burdens to bear. This is his.

Uncle hums. "You are very brave," he repeats.

Zuko only barely holds back a retort to that. He doesn't need anyone's assurance, least of all that of a man that abandoned him and walked the easy path. He is done with seeking reassurance from men that aren't worth it.

But that's not true, isn't it? He does need reassurance. Otherwise, he wouldn't open up to Katara about all his problems. It was relieving to tell her about his feelings about his uncle without the fear of being judged by her. He didn't expect the words to flow out so freely but she had asked and leaned against him and had been so incredibly comforting that he had just opened his mouth and... didn't close it until his feelings were out there for the world to see.

It's scary, yes. But she makes it all bearable.

And that concept alone is so scary that he doesn't want to think about it anymore.

Iroh isn't Ozai. Even if they're not on good terms now, he knows that. Has always known it. So saying that Iroh isn't worth it, putting him down there with Ozai... it isn't fair.

He's trying. Uncle can't fix his mistakes, but Zuko is no stranger to guilt, and he sees it written plainly across Iroh's face.

He's trying.

So Zuko doesn't say anything.

"I know this must all be hard for you," Uncle continues. "But I will not belittle you by trying to comfort or pity you. I know you don't want it, least of all from me."

Well, he's right about that.

"Just let me say one thing: I can only repeat that I am so very sorry for what happened. But you are a better man than your father and I could ever hope to be. I hope you know that I am proud of you, no matter what you choose to do."

No. He isn't a better man. He chose to be a better man. There is a difference.

But he doesn't say that either, and only nods instead. "I know."

Babysteps.

—

Sokka finds Aang on the rooftop, watching the sunrise. "You know," he complains as he heaves himself onto the roof, "you could really choose better accessible places to brood."

"I'm not brooding," comes the reply. "I'm thinking."

Sokka sits down beside him, lets his legs dangle over the edge, and determinedly does not look down. Heights really aren't his thing.

"Well, what are you thinking about?" He takes out some dried meat he'd swiped from the kitchens earlier and starts chewing.

"Uh... you know. Just... stuff."

Sokka raises an eyebrow and swallows. "Just stuff? Uh-huh." He doesn't break eye contact until Aang sighs and looks away. They both know what this is about.

"I just... earlier today..." Aang is searching for words, running a hand through his hair and then clenching it in his lap. He takes a deep breath, as if he's steeling himself for some grand revelation. "I don't wanna kill Ozai."

Well. Not an unexpected revelation but an unpleasant one nonetheless.

Sokka closes his eyes against the bright orange light of the sinking sun for a moment. It's weird. The sun rising and setting at the same time every day in the Fire Nation, no matter the season. At the South and North Pole, the sun doesn't rise for half a year and then doesn't sink for the same amount of time and in the Earth Kingdom, the time of sunrise and sunset varies. It took some time getting used to.

He remembers the first time he felt rain on his skin. It was wet and heavy and so, so loud. Snow is quiet. Pretty. Light. But he got used to it. Just like he had to get used to other people's cultures.

Like the Air Nomads, for example.

No one really knows much about them. They're dead, after all, and the Fire Nation did its part in making sure that their teachings died with them and went up in smoke, to be forgotten. But there is one last living Air Nomad sitting beside him, the last of his people, the one responsible for keeping this almost-dead culture alive, the one with the heaviest burden of them all.

As alien as it is to Sokka, he has to respect that.

But this is war. And the first rule of war is that everyone and everything is expendable. They can't afford to keep one culture alive if it means that all the others will die out.

He sighs.

"Look, Aang," he begins in a quiet voice. The last thing he needs is a mad Avatar. "I know you want to keep your culture alive. I mean, it's what Katara and I have been tasked to do our whole lives. Everything we did was in the name of survival, so that what happened to your people wouldn't happen to us. I have ideals, Katara has ideals, even Toph has them. And you do too, of course. But..." And he steels himself for the outcry that is sure to come. "There are lines we have to draw. Sometimes, that culture holds us... back. And we can't afford that."

Aang looks at him like he just kicked a baby seal. "But I have a duty to my people!" Ah, yes, there it is. "The Air Nomad's said that all life is sacred and if I kill Ozai... I'm the last one. I'm the only one who can keep my people's beliefs - my beliefs - alive. I can't just abandon that. Not for-"

"For what?" Sokka cuts him off and his voice is just a bit sharper than he intended it to be. "For the good of the world? For peace?"

"That's not how I meant it and you know it."

Yes, he does, but for some reason, this rubs him the wrong way.

"Yes, I do. But I also know that sometimes, you have to make sacrifices-"

"Not if that sacrifice is my culture!"

"-and sometimes, you yourself don't matter. What matters is the good of the tribe, the good of the people you're responsible for." It had been taught to him all his life - the tribe before all else. If he had to lay down his own life for his people, he would. It was expected of him. "And the Avatar is responsible for not just one people, but all. All four nations. The whole world is your tribe. You can't have just one belief, Aang, your task as the Avatar is to-"

"Don't tell me what the Avatar should and shouldn't do, Sokka," Aang interrupts, voice sharp and biting, grey eyes hard and cold like a storm. "I will not compromise my beliefs, not when it comes to that."

"No one's asking you to do that; we're asking you to set aside your belief on this one matter. One," Sokka argues.

"Well, if I start with one, then I might as well throw away every other belief, too."

"That's not what-"

"This is murder, Sokka. We're talking about a life here. I can't just ignore what the monks told me for this 'one little thing', because it's not little!"

"But it's the life of Ozai!" Sokka protests, dried meat forgotten. "It's his life for everyone elses. That guy is a monster."

"No one is a monster," Aang insists. "There is good in everyone."

He snorts at that because no, there is no good in someone who wants to see the world burn. "Oh, so you just what - walk into the palace, sit down to tea and have a good old talk with the guy?" he says, shaking his head. "That's not gonna work, buddy. Ozai only answers to violence."

"Doesn't mean I have to stoop to his level."

And wow, this is just... "So everyone who uses violence is now on Ozai's level, is that right? I am, Katara is, Zuko is, Toph, Iroh, Piandao..."

"What?" Aang looks appalled. "Of course not!"

"Well, that's what you just said."

"That's not what-"

"Aang. Using violence doesn't mean that you're as bad as him," Sokka says firmly. "You could never be as bad as him. You're a good guy. But you know what would make you a bad guy? Not stopping Ozai. And the only way for this to end is in blood."

Aang looks horrified.

"I'm sorry," he continues. "I know this is hard, but nothing in the past few months has been easy."

He knows it's not fair, he knows it's absolutely horrible, he knows that Aang wants to scream in frustration and ask the spirits why they think this is such a good joke, and spirits, Sokka wants to do the same but he can't. This is life.

Killing has always been a part of his life. It's a necessary evil and good for the tribe. It sustains his people and sates the spirits with regular offerings. Refusing to kill someone is understandable - he himself has never enjoyed it - but also incredibly stupid. Especially when that someone is a mad Fire Lord.

Aang is quiet for a minute, looking down at the clenched fists in his lap. "I'm sorry," he mutters eventually, "I know I have a task as the Avatar that goes beyond my personal beliefs. Beyond my nation. And I'm trying to understand and embrace other cultures, I really am. I'm constantly trying to better myself but... there are some things I cannot do. And killing is one of them. I'm sorry, but no. I just... I just can't."

And his voice sounds so incredibly burdened and tired and exhausted that Sokka just wants to wrap his arms around this kid and tell him that everything will be okay. But they don't know that. There is a very real possibility that everything is not going to be okay, that things are gonna get so much worse than they already are. He would be a liar. And he cannot lie about this.

He closes his eyes for a second, lets out a tense breath, feels the last rays of the sun on his skin.

Then he gets an idea.

He opens his eyes. "Aang," he says, "what if it's not you that kills the Fire Lord?"

Aang looks at him with confused eyes. "What?"

"What if you... I don't know, fight him and subdue him or whatever and then one of us kills him? It doesn't have to be you."

This would certainly solve the problem. Aang would still take on the Fire Lord - and he is the only one who can actually do that; Iroh explained to them earlier that war is much more complicated to end than just taking down its figurehead. Someone else swooping in and killing the Fire Lord would be seen as a foreign entity trying to usurp him and would cause rebellion and maybe even a civil war in the Fire Nation. Troops would refuse to withdraw and the fighting would go on; nothing would be solved and potentially get even worse. The Avatar is the only one with the actual right to take out Ozai, the only one the Fire Nation would hopefully (maybe) respect.

But on a battlefield, a lot can happen. They wouldn't know that someone else did the actual job. They'd only see the Avatar.

Aang shakes his head. "No, that would be the same."

"How?" Sokka asks, confused.

"Then I'd basically give my okay for someone else to kill him. I'd watch it happen. That would be no better than to kill him myself," he replies with a sad look in his eyes. "I'm sorry. But we can't end this with murder. We'll have to imprison him."

"And how do you think that will go?" Sokka questions skeptically. He doesn't want to force his beliefs on anyone, but he has no choice. He needs Aang to see reason. And he knows, deep down, that if it were up to him, that if he'd be there when Aang would take Ozai on - he'd kill him. No matter if Aang would be watching, no matter how horrified he would be. Sokka would do it, and he wouldn't regret it for one single minute. And if he has to give up his own life to do it, he will, if it means he takes Ozai with him.

"Ozai in a prison cell - where? The Fire Nation? Yeah, no, definitely not. The Earth Kingdom? The Water Tribes? What do you think they'll do with him?"

"I don't know, but they won't kill him!"

"Yes, exactly. You don't know. Maybe they will, maybe they won't. But leaving Ozai alive is dangerous. It only takes one successful escape, one loyal soldier to restart the war. We can't risk that, Aang. And besides - what do you think life in prison is gonna be like? Don't you think death would be more merciful?"

Not that Ozai deserves any mercy. If it were up to Sokka, he'd happily watch the guy being tortured to death. Okay, maybe not happily. But he wouldn't feel bad about it either.

"How can death ever be merciful? It's literally the end of a life, and all life is sacred. It can never be merciful."

Yes, all life is sacred, but not Ozai's. Forgive Sokka for thinking that.

He feels a headache coming on and suppresses a groan, massaging his temples and opting instead for a heavy sigh. This is going nowhere. They're talking in circles and it's almost fully dark now.

"Well, what do the other you's think?"

"Huh?" Aang's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Your past lives. All the Avatars before you. You said you could talk to them and I'm sure they'd be happy to offer their advice." And hopefully talk some sense into the boy.

But Aang only looks discouraged. "Oh. That. Uh..." He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck and Sokka definitely does not like that look.

"Why do I get the feeling that there's something you're not telling me?"

"Well..." Aang clears his throat nervously. Oh, no, he's definitely not gonna like what he's about to hear. "I can't... I can't really talk to them? I mean, I've tried, over and over again, for months, but it only worked at the Eastern Air Temple once when Roku told me about the comet."

Okay, he knew that Aang had trouble with the Avatar stuff and accessing his past lives but... "I thought that had to do with your chakras? Because they were clogged? And the guru fixed that. You told us you opened them all."

Aang's mouth is pressed into a thin line, and Sokka can see how his breathing becomes way too slow for someone to be breathing normally. No, this is someone who is deliberately controlling their breath because they have something to hide. The fact that he avoids eye contact also doesn't help.

"Aang," he says in a slow, deliberate voice. "Please don't tell me what I think you're gonna tell me."

"Well, alright, I'm just gonna-" Aang is fiddling with his hands, his eyes flitting from place to place.

"Aang. No." Sokka is the last one to turn down a good joke, but not with this. "Tell me the truth and look me in the eyes while you do it."

Aang takes a deep breath, bites his lower lip, and meets his gaze. "I... I lied. I didn't open all the chakras. But I opened most of them!" he adds hastily. "The last one is the only one I-"

"What do you mean you didn't open the last one? What's so difficult about that one?"

"Everything!" he replies in an erratic and panicked voice, eyes wide. "Guru Pathik said I had to let you go to open it and I just couldn't do that, I-"

"Let us go? Let us go how? I can't really follow you."

Another deep intake of breath, hands clenched so tight that the knuckles are white. "He said that I had to let go of every earthly possession. And I just... I was afraid that that meant I had to let go of you guys. That I couldn't feel friendship towards you anymore or had to leave you behind or something... and I couldn't do that. I mean, you're my friends, the only people I have. Sokka, you pulled me out of the ice! How could I let go of you? That would be evil, that would be selfish, that would be horrible, and I was just so scared and confused that I ran away from Pathik and told you guys that we could move on..."

The only selfish thing is that Aang didn't let go of them. If that meant that he could save the world, Sokka would gladly throw away any friendship toward him. Peace is so much bigger than they are. But saying that would be cruel and while he's definitely not coddling Aang, he also doesn't need to rub his mistakes in his face. There's nothing to be done about it now.

"And what does that mean exactly for all your Avatar stuff?" he asks instead after letting out another tense breath. He feels like an old man.

"Well... I can't access the Avatar State. Or speak to my past lives. Or maybe I can speak to them, Guru Pathik said that my connection to them isn't broken, just damaged, but... I haven't really figured out how."

Great. This is just... great. So they have an Avatar who can't talk to his past lives or access the Avatar State, a state which would have been very, very, very helpful.

They're all doomed.

"Aang." And his voice is tired and exhausted and damnit, he just wants to go to bed and forget this whole conversation ever happened. "You can't lie to us about this. This is kind of important. Like world-changing-important. Literally. If you would have told us..."

"I know! I know. I was... scared. And angry at myself and so confused but I wasn't sure what you would think of me if you knew."

"That you made a horrible mistake and should have let us go?"

"Sokka-"

"I know," Sokka cuts him off. "I know. But you can't run away from your problems like that."

"I know," Aang replies. "And I'm trying not to. I mean, I opened these chakras for a reason and I do feel their effects. But there are some things... I'm not perfect."

"No one expects you to be."

"Yes, you do. Not you in particular, Sokka, or Katara or the rest of the group. But the world does. And they already think I abandoned them."

Sokka sighs heavily. They've had this conversation a thousand times and he wishes he could make Aang feel better, but he can't. No one can. The only one who can is Aang himself.

"And you're doing your part to fix that. By taking out the Fire Lord."

"I'm not revisiting that conversation, Sokka," Aang says firmly. "I won't kill him. And I won't make any excuses for that."

"No one expects you to-" He cuts himself off and rubs the bridge of his nose because this is going nowhere. "Can anything be done about the chakra situation?" he asks instead.

Aang shakes his head. "No, I'm afraid not. I mean, I could always go back to Guru Pathik but..."

He doesn't want to do that. Guru Pathik might not be there anymore. He doesn't say it out loud, but Sokka understands anyway.

"Look, there's nothing that you and I could say right now that would be productive to this conversation. The Avatar State is out of the question and you killing Ozai is, too. We'll... we'll figure something out. We have to get to those creepy catacombs first, see if we can find anything useful, and then we'll see. Okay?"

It's not okay, nothing of this is okay, but screaming about how unfair this all is will bring them nowhere, so Aang only nods with sad, sad eyes.

"Okay."

Nothing in Sokka's life has ever been easy, and he can say the same for the others as well. This is just another obstacle to deal with. And deal with it, they will.

—

The blade of the knife flashes in the orange light of the torches on the wall as she spins it around a finger. She'd need to sharpen it soon.

"So what's this about?" Ty Lee asks, curious as ever. Mai looks up at Azula standing before them, all formal and regal like the princess she is. But there's a glint in her eye that tells Mai all she needs to know.

Azula wants something from them.

"Well," said princess starts, "I assume you heard about a war meeting being held today?" Her tone gives nothing away. Beside Mai, Ty Lee nods and she does the same. Of course there'd been a war meeting. There's always a war meeting.

"The protests in the colony Father gave me to oversee have escalated. It's pure chaos up there." Ah, yes. Yu Dao. The metal factory. It's only luck that the protests in New Ozai have never gotten as violent as in Azula's colony, otherwise Mai would likely not be where she is today. "And of course my Father has approved of the most obvious course of action - brute force."

Oh, so this is where this is going. Interesting. She raises an eyebrow, careful to keep the rest of her face neutral. "And let me guess," she says, "that is not what you would have done?"

"No," Azula replies, "it is not. Tell me, Mai - what did Governor Ukano do when the earthbenders in New Ozai refused to work?"

"He gave them an ultimatum. Either work or be killed. But," she adds because Azula already knows this and isn't interested in that part, "he also promised them better wages. More food. Fewer restrictions. If they did the work, that is." And it worked - the earthbenders took the ultimatum, albeit begrudgingly, and fire - and earthbenders have lived together in a tentative peace ever since.

Azula nods thoughtfully. "And that is exactly what I planned to do in Yu Dao. An angry mob doesn't react to threats. It only becomes more violent. It's a pity my father doesn't see that."

Violence isn't Azula's style, she knows. Subterfuge is. And there is a reason she is telling them about this.

"So what's your plan?" she asks. There is always a plan when it comes to Azula.

The slightest tilt of her lips tells Mai she hit the target right in the middle.

"Interior Minister Xiam," Azula tells them. "He is the one who proposed the plan of forcing the people into submission. The only reason he is on the war council in the first place is because he embezzles money to the crown and comes from an old family that has always been loyal to the Fire Lord." Ah, yes. Mai recalls her parents eating dinner with his cousin a few years ago. "I want him gone."

Naturally.

"And how do you want to do that?" Ty Lee asks. "I mean - you could just kill him. Make it look like an accident." Mai turns her head to look at the girl. She's serious but there's also this look on her face - like she isn't fully here, like she is detached. Like she doesn't care. Ty Lee is the bubbliest person she knows, but that hasn't stopped her from killing when necessary. And necessary is when Azula says she wants something.

No one would think Ty Lee capable of murder. Mai knows better. And so does Azula.

"No, that would be too obvious." Azula shakes her head. "I want him gone but I don't need him dead. Not that it would be much of a loss. But no - murder is not the answer here."

"Then what is?" Mai asks because there is no way Azula doesn't already have a solution to this problem of hers.

She is proven right.

"Well. Interior Ministers are usually in charge of prisons, are they not?" Azula raises an eyebrow and tilts her head slightly. "And if those prisons were to fail - like, say, one prisoner, or even several, escaping - that would look very bad for said minister. My, he could even get relieved of his duties. Which means no more power. No more sitting in on war meetings. No more proposing stupid plans."

Well. That certainly wouldn't be as obvious as Xiam suddenly turning up dead or missing. Ozai would relieve him of his duties personally - or would give Azula the honor to do it. Which would both be fine by her.

"And how would we do that?" Mai asks.

"Well, I've heard there are some guys willing to do almost anything for the right price. A small prison riot certainly wouldn't be too much trouble for them. I would, of course, provide the necessary means. But it would be unfitting for a princess to creep around the shadows and talk to strange men in dark alleys." Azula gives them a pointed look, first Mai, then Ty Lee.

"But wouldn't releasing prisoners be counterproductive?" Ty Lee questions. "They'd only add to the chaos."

"Of course they will," Azula answers with a smile. "That's the whole point. So it would of course be best if they'd be contained as fast as possible. It would only be fitting if I would... encounter some of those prisoners on one of my walks through the caldera and contain the damage."

So that is the plan. Not only remove Interior Minister Xiam from the council, but make Azula look good in the process. Mai knows that said princess hasn't been in the good graces of the Fire Lord ever since they came back from the Earth Kingdom. Which brings her to one more question.

"But what if the Fire Lord sees through the plan?"

Azula fixes her with her eyes, the gold shining brightly in the light of the torches. Her jaw hardens for a second, only for a second, before she puts the mask back on.

"He won't. And then he'll listen to me."

And all Mai sees in that one second of hesitance, that one second of uncertainty, is desperation. The sort that comes with walking a tightrope, the sort that comes with balancing on a razor's edge with no safety net. The one that comes with knowing what happens when one isn't perfect.

But she doesn't know if Azula is ready to see that yet. If she ever will be. So Mai only nods, and hopes that this is enough, even if she knows it isn't and never will be.

Notes:

Ngl, I was vibing with Sokka during that talk.

Chapter 20: Nineteen

Notes:

THIS IS A DAY LATE I'M SORRY

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

If Zuko thought being back in the Fire Nation felt weird, then being back in the caldera, so close to the palace, his home, is beyond any possible description. The palace looms ominously over them, like a dark omen, like an angry spirit. They shouldn't be here. They should be as far away as possible from Ozai, from Azula.

And yet, here they are.

Uncle told them of the code one has to use to get into the catacombs - a series of short fire blasts, timed just right. The others may call him paranoid as he nervously watches out for anyone walking the plaza where the entrance lies, but is it really paranoia when said feeling is justified? The space is very open, after all, and the nearest columns they could hide behind are a few feet away. Too many feet. Anyone could see them.

He feels responsible for this group of friends he's acquired. It's his family that is the biggest threat to them, to the world. Getting them caught and executed here in his homeland... he can't help but feel that this would be his fault. He can't let that happen. He couldn't bear to live with that - provided he would live long enough in the first place if that were to happen. So he focuses all his senses on keeping that from happening.

Katara sends the fire blasts flying into the strange mechanism at their feet flawlessly - she truly has come a long way in her bending since he first started teaching her all those months ago. He can't help but wonder - if she had been born a firebender in the Fire Nation, how would she have turned out? Like another Azula perhaps?

He shakes his head and banishes the thought. He can't think about that right now.

(She wouldn't have. She's Katara.)

They descend down the stairs, hearing the stone slap slide back into place above them, and it doesn't take long until they are standing in a long corridor. And when he says long, he means long.

One door after another lines the stone walls, leading to Agni knows how many chambers filled with Agni knows what. The air is dank and hot, smelling slightly of sulfur, and only the torches mounted atop the doors provide some light. Flickering shadows dance over the walls, creating an eerie atmosphere.

"Wow," Aang whispers beside him, clearly awed. Wow indeed. If creepy old tunnels are your taste.

"Tui and La," Sokka says, taking a few steps forward, scanning the area with eyes whose color couldn't look more out of place in this place of fire and sulfur, "this place is massive. Where do we even start?"

"I suggest we split up," Zuko says. "We'll cover more ground that way."

"Then let's hope this isn't the library all over again," Toph mutters darkly. "The last time you guys split up, you massively fucked it up."

"And it's a good thing we had you, wasn't it? And look who we are with right now - that same person!" Sokka replies.

"Yeah, but saving your asses wasn't fun. Let's hope it won't come to that."

"It won't," Katara insists. "The only people who would come here are Fire Sages, or at least that's what Iroh said. And it's the middle of the night, so why would they?" But even she doesn't sound like she's fully sure.

"All I'm saying is that we all know our luck." Toph holds up her hands. "If something bad can happen, it will happen."

"Do you guys think the spirits are punishing me for being in the iceberg for so long?" Aang asks. "What with the whole 'the worst thing that can happen will happen' thing?"

They all look at each other, but no one looks at Aang. None of them know the answer to that, but Zuko isn't sure if they'd like to. So they all just... give each other sheepish looks and shrug and then split up to hopefully find something, Toph staying behind, stretching out her senses, to warn them if someone else comes.

He doesn't even know where he's supposed to start.

The goal of this mission is clear - find the plans for the day of Sozin's Comet. Problem is - where are those plans being kept? They don't have all night.

He searches through one chamber after another. They are filled with countless scrolls, ranging from old Fire Nation tales to the history of their nation. Oh, and of course, ashes. This is the catacombs, after all.

Zuko finds himself standing in front of Fire Lord Akina's urn, bigger than any urn has any right to be, grand and gilded, and generally just as ostentatious as possible. Dragons are depicted on the painted marble, dancing around each other, spewing fire. It's beautiful.

He wonders how Ozai's urn would look. Or Azula's. Or his own, if he wouldn't have gotten himself exiled. Then he blinks and banishes that thought from his head because it's pretty morbid. His tolerance to volcanic gasses must have sunken these past few years. Clearly.

He wonders how the others are faring.

But human ashes aren't the only thing he finds.

Zuko enters - surprise - another chamber, this one bigger and with a higher ceiling. There are only a few torches on the walls, not doing the best job at illuminating the space, but even in the dim light he can see the gruesome contents.

So the name 'Dragonbone catacombs' was literal after all. He'd wondered about that.

Bones are lying over other bones, unsorted, forgotten. Bigger than any human bone. He takes a tentative step further into the chamber, crouches, picks up... a tooth? Oh yeah. Definitely a tooth. As big as his whole hand.

What a comforting thought.

He puts it back again and exits the chamber, feeling like he is disturbing the peace of the dead dragons lying there. If it could be called peace, that is.

Dragons had been extinct since Sozin declared them fair game for hunting. Zuko doesn't know why he would do that - dragons are the original benders after all. Killing one's own elemental animal is a great sin. But then again, so is genocide. Or burning your child's face. It's just another one of the evils the Fire Nation has committed in the past century. Just another day in Fire Nation history.

He feels sick.

When Uncle told him he killed the last dragon all those years ago when he'd still been a wide-eyed child, he didn't like it then either. He didn't understand the grave consequences of that then, only mourned the dragons going extinct because they looked cool. Azula did, too. But only because that meant she didn't get to kill one herself and claim 'Dragon' as her title.

That honor (if it could be called that) went to Uncle. It's hard to imagine Iroh facing off against a dragon and winning. It's just not something he can comprehend. Or wants to, for that matter.

But then he thinks back to the hand-sized tooth and bones longer than his whole body and is just the tiniest bit glad that they're not around to pose a danger to people anymore. And then immediately feels selfish and horrible for that - he doesn't even know if dragons were ever dangerous to humans. Agni, these gasses are really doing him in.

"Hey, great-grandson!" Aang calls out from where he steps out of a chamber a few feet across from him, looking happier than he has any right to be in this glum place.

Zuko shakes his head and blinks rapidly, trying to clear it.

"Sorry, what? I think I misheard you." The gasses. Obviously. It can't be healthy to be down here for long periods of time. That must be the reason the Fire Sages are the way they are. Occupational hazard. He briefly wonders if his father has ever set foot down here and came out poisoned. That would certainly explain some things.

"Oh, you heard me right," Aang replies, grinning. "Great-Grandson."

Zuko blinks.

"What?"

Aang holds up the scroll in his hands. "I found the chamber dedicated to Sozin. And this scroll! And uh, his ashes, too, I suppose. Weird feeling, to be honest."

Oh yeah, tell him about it.

"But anyway," Aang goes on, "there are scrolls depicting Sozin's life, kinda like a memoir, but I didn't really feel like reading that. But I found this family tree in there!" He comes closer and unfurls the scroll. "It's a family tree of the Fire Nation's royal family. Or at least a few generations," Aang explains unnecessarily. Yes, Zuko can read.

He takes the scroll from Aang's hand and studies it in the dim torchlight. There's Sozin, alright, and then Azulon, then Iroh and Ozai, then him and Azula... and his mother, too. He traces her family line with his finger, the parchment smooth under his skin.

There are his less-homicidal grandparents Rina and Jinzuk. He met them only a handful of times and only when he'd been younger, but they'd always been friendly. Distant, but friendly. But he was taught that the only ancestry that matters is the one on his father's side, the one directly related to Sozin, so he'd never given his mother's family much thought. He regrets that now, but he didn't know better at the time.

But then he traces the line further to Rina's parents and stills. He knows that name. Ta Min. No, not that one. The other one.

Roku.

As in... "Avatar Roku?"

"Yep." Aang nods, popping the 'p'. "Really wouldn't have expected that. Small world, I guess."

Small world indeed.

Did his mother know? Does Ozai know? Does Azula? Azulon must have known. What was he thinking, marrying his youngest son off to the Avatar's descendant? Yes, it was rumored that those of Avatar ancestry are powerful benders, but... still. This is the Fire Nation's public enemy number one, after all.

All his life he'd been taught that the Avatar is someone the Fire Nation needed dead in order to spread their 'greatness'. To find out his very own great-grandfather was said Avatar...

Too many questions. He can't think about this right now.

(Does Iroh know?)

He glares at Aang. "Don't you dare-"

"Oh no, there's no way I'll let that slide! Do you know the potential for jokes that brings? Do you? This is glorious!"

Zuko opens his mouth to protest, but gets cut off by said annoying Avatar. "Or are you already tired of an old man's wisdom? Ah, the youth of today..."

Avatars, really. They only cause trouble. "Stop acting like an old man. I'm older than you, kid."

"Technically, I've got a hundred years on you."

"Technically, Roku is my great-grandfather, not you."

"Yes, technically. But where's the fun in that?"

Zuko rolls his eyes and is about to retort when Sokka's voice calls out from another chamber. "Uh, guys? Wherever you are? I think I found what we're looking for."

He and Aang exchange a look, mirth suddenly forgotten, and join Sokka in his chamber.

—

He should have known. He should have known.

But he did know.

He did.

He knew that the comet would be used for great violence, that there is no way in Agni's name that his father would pass up this literal once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He warned Aang of this at the Eastern Air Temple, knew that they would have to do something before the end of summer.

But this doesn't make it any easier.

It's one thing to know of the atrocities your great-grandfather committed (and he does not want to think about who his other great-grandfather is, he can't deal with both these realizations at once, he is only human, after all). It's one thing to imagine the violence your own father will use, especially if you've been on the receiving end of his ire before. But it is another to see his plans written out on parchment, to read of another genocide, to read of so many lives that will be destroyed. Burned to ash and then forgotten. Laughed at. Ridiculed.

He feels sick.

He feels sick and he can't breathe and he regrets dinner a few hours ago and he just wants to forget-

He can't forget. He can't forget.

He has to do something, anything. He can't just stand by and watch his family commit yet another crime, tear yet another culture apart, another part of this delicate balance. This is his family, his responsibility, he has to do something and he - he -

He can't breathe.

Spirits, he can't breathe.

A hand on his arm. Warm. Squeezing. Comforting. Another on his back, rubbing soothing patterns over the fabric of his tunic, red like blood, red like death, red like fire. Fire, family, death. Family, fire, death.

It's like a mantra in his head and he keeps repeating it over and over again. Fire. Death. Family. But no, that's not right, that's not the right order-

Family, fire, death. Family equals fire, fire equals death. Death equals family. Family equals pain, family equals destruction, loss, grief, a father's hand gently caressing his face and then setting it on fire-

"Breathe," a low voice soothes. Feminine. Delicate. "Zuko, just breathe."

Zuko. That is his name. It means violence, it means anger, it means being expected to kill - to kill the people of a whole continent, to annihilate so many lives-

He can't do that. He can't - he can't -

His whole life has been a lie. He already knew that, but still, his whole life has been a lie and everything he was taught is wrong, so what is right, how is he supposed to know that, he clearly doesn't know anything, but how does he fix that, he knows he has to fix that, he has a responsibility (he is a liability), but Father always said he isn't worth anything and that Azula is better-

But Azula - she is - she wants to burn two tribes to the ground, and Father does too, so is she really better, what right does Father have to say these things about him if he plans to do that-

He can't breathe. He is going to vomit. He can't breathe and he is going to vomit and there is a knot in him that is tangling up his insides and he is dizzy and there are black spots in his vision and what is he going to do, he can't give up now, he has to keep going-

Blue.

Blue eyes.

Right in front of him.

Piercing and sharp, like ice. Dark and mysterious, like the ocean. Soothing and calming, like a pond.

(A mother's gentle hand in his hair, the sound of turtle ducks playing in the water.)

And slowly, Zuko comes back to reality.

Katara is standing in front of him, holding onto his arms, steadying him, holding his gaze with her own, whispering soothing words to him. Then - a hand on his cheek, lightly caressing the skin with a featherlight touch-

Red. So much red, but he can see only blue in this place of red, only blue, so much blue-

They are standing in the shadows of the High Temple, leaning against a column, the others just a few feet to the side, looking out for guards and sages.

And he... they have to get going, they can't stay here-

"Hey," Katara says, "it's okay. You're okay. Do you think you can walk?"

No, nothing is okay, he wants to tell her, he wants to scream at her, at the heavens, at the whole world. The world will burn and you know it and it's my family's fault.

But instead, he only nods, unable to say anything, and they get moving, eager to leave this city and get onto Appa to fly back to Shu Jing with their new information.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a shadow moving. He ignores it. His mind is already somewhere else.

—

Clouds reside in the sky tonight, hiding the moon, providing her no extra light. Oh well, she'll manage.

Mai and Ty Lee had come to inform her that the job was done. Tonight, a few prisoners would escape the prison tower near the palace - traitorous nobles mostly, but also a few rich merchants who failed to swear loyalty to the crown.

And, by a lucky coincidence, this would just be the time where she'd get back from Mai's house, running into the traitors on her way home and bringing them to justice.

After that, Xiam wouldn't be a problem anymore.

And so would her father.

(Are you sure about that?)

(Shut up.)

He has to see that. He has to see that his plan will fail and hers will not. He raised her after all, has seen to her education, has seen to her bending lessons, has been the first to see how much of a prodigy she is.

(Has he?)

(Shut. Up.)

And if he may have forgotten that for the briefest time, because it is easy for gold to seem dull when it is all one ever sees, then well, he only needs a swift reminder. She is helping him with this, really.

Azula knows what Father expects of her. The best, and only the best. Perfection. Brilliance. Initiative. But he expects something else, too: Obedience and unquestionable loyalty.

Well. She never fails to deliver because she is Azula and that is explanation enough, but sometimes, she thinks he underestimates her. Sometimes, she has to remind him just how great she is, just how much of a prodigy she is.

(And how much Zuko was not.)

This is for the best of the nation. He has to see that. Surely, he'll see that.

She is only helping him. She is saving his country. She is saving his nation.

(Her country.)

(Her nation.)

That's what he has her for, after all. To do what Zuko could not, what no one could before her.

(She used to have nightmares when she was young. Horrible terrors she would wake up screaming and thrashing from, sweating, crying for her brother.

As she grew older, she realized that she wouldn't have to be afraid if everyone else was afraid of her instead.

So she became the nightmare.)

Screaming coming from the building opposite the High Temple. Azula changes her course.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a shadow moving. She ignores it. Her mind is already somewhere else.

—

Rain softly platters down on the cave, creating a soothing and gentle rhythm. He focuses on that because if he doesn't, he'll have to think, and if he does that, his head will explode.

Tap. Tap.

He can't sleep and he knows he won't be able to sleep for the rest of the night so he stayed up to take the first watch in this cave they found between the caldera and Shu Jing. There isn't a village around for miles but better safe than sorry. He's supposed to wake Sokka up for the second watch but resolves to let him sleep. He needs it more than Zuko does. He'll manage.

The sky is cloudy tonight with thick dark rain clouds emptying their contents onto the earth. In one or two short hours the sun will come up but he doesn't miss the feeling of Agni's rays for once.

No, not today.

(Maybe not ever.)

He still feels sick. None of them were able to stomach food and frankly, way too tired to cook, so no one had the opportunity to give him concerned looks for turning down food. Except for Katara of course. But she didn't ask and then left him to watch out for anyone approaching the cave.

He is glad that she didn't. He doesn't deserve her concern, doesn't deserve her compassion, her worry, her goodness.

He has to fix this. The comet will arrive in only a few months and he has to fix this. If he doesn't, he'll... he won't know how to live with himself after that. Agni, he doesn't even know how to live with himself right now.

The Day of Black Sun will be that opportunity. And he can't mess that up, if he messes that up-

"Hey."

A voice softly beside him. Zuko doesn't need to turn his head to see Katara settling down right next to him, so close her arm brushes his and he can feel her warmth.

But this is a good warmth. This is gentle. Comforting. Healing. Not burning and scorching.

"I'm pretty sure you were supposed to wake Sokka up hours ago. The sun's almost coming up." Blue eyes find his and there it is again, that concern, that concern he doesn't deserve-

"You okay?"

He shakes his head. Blinks.

"Uh, yeah, I'm... I'm okay." His voice is raspy and rough and he wonders what she thinks of it. Then wonders why he wonders that.

Silence, only the gentle tapping of the rain.

Tap. Tap.

"You know... this might sound weird but plans of genocide aren't that foreign to the Water Tribes either. I mean, I regularly overheard war councils where they were talking about just that."

She brings her knees to her chest and then puts her arms around them, resting her chin atop them, staring out at the rain.

He wonders if she misses the sensation of feeling the water all around her. He knows he would.

He shakes his head. "This is... different. It's not the same."

She lays her gaze on him. "How?"

I don't know, he wants to tell her, but it is.

"It just is," he settles on instead.

But she obviously doesn't believe him. "Sokka once told me that murder is murder, no matter who does it," she says. "And I didn't believe him at the time. I thought that it was different if the Water Tribes would do it since the Fire Nation has taken so much from us. But... now I know that wouldn't be okay either. Violence can't be solved with violence."

"Yes, I know that," he replies, feeling himself getting agitated. "But that doesn't mean what my father plans on doing isn't horrible just because your tribe wanted to do the same." She opens her mouth to say something, but he cuts her off. "And there's also a difference between talking about it and actually planning to do it. There are literally scrolls laying down there in the catacombs sealing the fate of so many people. Your people. And I don't know how you can be okay with that."

Something dangerous glints in Katara's eyes. "I am not okay with that; I have no idea how you could think that-"

"Then stop trying to make it better."

"I'm not trying to-"

"Yes. Yes, you are. Otherwise you wouldn't compare those two-"

"I'm just trying to make you feel better," she interrupts, the features of her face softer now. "I'm not trying to make it better because that's impossible. You're talking about my people here, Zuko. My tribe. I will do anything for them; they're my responsibility. But that doesn't mean I can't try to make a friend feel better. So don't you dare accuse me of not caring ever again, because I do." Katara's voice is firm and insistent but there is a look in her eyes that makes something deep within him feel warm and content, despite the circumstances. "I do care a lot about..." Her eyes flitter about, almost nervously, and then find his again. "About you. About all of us."

He holds her gaze, unsure what to make of this, only knowing that he likes the feeling it invokes in him, likes the warmth, likes her soothing blue eyes, her compassion.

Then he averts his eyes.

And he doesn't want to, he hates doing it, but it is only right, the right thing to do, because - because -

"Why?" His voice is almost a whisper but he knows she heard him. "My father plans on killing your people. Your family. I don't... I don't know how you can still sit here beside me and-" He breaks off. Offer your compassion and understanding? Lay your eyes on me with that soft look in them instead of disgust and contempt?

"Because you're my friend," comes the answer, "and I'm there for my friends. Always. You were the first to reach out to me that night at the temple. It's only fair that I give it back."

"Yes, but you weren't-"

"What? Mean and hateful and prejudiced? Because I was. And I was wrong. I had all this anger inside of me and I've never been outside the tribes before but that's no excuse, only a reason. And you still sat down beside me and listened to me complain even though I did nothing but be mean to you. And you're... spirits, Zuko, you're good. You're compassionate and caring and you are nothing like him. Nothing. You're here now, aren't you? And you're doing something and I know you think it's not enough, but it is. It really is. So please just accept this for once. You deserve it."

And he doesn't know what to say to that.

So he doesn't.

He just feels her hand in his, warm and soothing and soft, and listens to the rain and wonders why his stomach feels so weird. It's not a bad feeling, the opposite in fact, it feels good and he wants to capture that feeling and put it in a jar so that he can feel it forever.

(He wonders if he is selfish for thinking that.)

And he still doesn't know if it really is enough, if what he is doing is enough, if it ever will be, but he does know that Katara means it when she says it and that she believes it.

And at that moment, it is enough.

Nothing is okay and in just a few hours, they'll be in Shu Jing discussing battle plans, but at that moment, he feels content. He feels safe. Safe with her. Safe with Katara and - and spirits he -

He wants to kiss her.

(Maybe he always wanted to kiss her.)

She is so close. Zuko could just lean in and-

But he doesn't. He doesn't know if she would even want that and if that is really what he wants or if it's just because of that weird feeling in his stomach and why is his heart beating so fast-

It would only complicate things. And things are complicated enough at the moment, so he'll just - he'll just feel content with sitting here, staring out at the rain with Katara by his side, her skin touching his, her breath softly on the skin of his arm, erecting goosebumps despite the warm temperature.

And at that moment, it is enough.

—

"We have to try it."

"Nephew, there are many risks involved in-"

"I don't care. We have to try it. You know what my fath- what Ozai plans to do on the day of the comet, and the Day of Black Sun will be the only opportunity to stop him before that."

He stares at his uncle with wide eyes, not believing the man in front of him. Iroh has that look in his eyes, the one he always used to explain why tea is more than just hot leaves and why patience is better in the long run. Not that Zuko ever listened to him back then. And he's not about to start now.

Uncle's voice is slow as he speaks, like he is explaining things to a small child. Or an idiot. And Zuko finds himself teleported back to a simpler time, when he really had just been a small child, ignorant of the world around him. But those times are long gone.

"The day of the comet itself is an opportunity. Ozai will be on one of his airships. If you intercept him there, you have a chance."

"A chance? That's suicide! He'll be surrounded by guards and - and Azula and he'll have his bending - he'll…" He looks at Aang. "He'll rip us to shreds." Zuko doesn't miss the looks the others exchange, but trains his eyes on his uncle. He cannot believe this.

"And the same won't happen on the eclipse?" Iroh retorts. "He will know we're coming. We've talked about this before, an invasion on that day is very predictable-"

"Yeah, for a reason! He won't have his bending!"

"But have you thought about the other event that occurs whenever there is such a cosmical event? The spirits get angry. The Fire Nation has caused the world to fall out of balance for a long time now. They will make invading the capital impossible. This, my nephew, would be suicide."

He looks around, tries to gauge the opinion of the others. Aang looks like he is about to be sick, Sokka looks thoughtful, Katara worried, and Toph like she agrees with Iroh, even if not happily. Piandao is on Uncle's side, but that was to be expected.

But none of this changes the fact that he is the only one currently arguing with Uncle.

"It's too much of a risk." And his voice comes out more unstable than he wants it to be. "We can't wait that long. We have to act now. The eclipse is in three weeks and we-"

"Too much of a risk would be to send the Avatar into a death trap." Uncle's voice is firm and slow. "Invading the capital on the day of the eclipse would be foolish. Not only will Ozai and Azula be prepared for any invading forces, the spirits will make walking the streets impossible."

"We can just dig a tunnel! We have the best earthbender in the world on our team!"

Toph huffs and blows the bangs out of her face. "Why, thanks, Sparky." Her confidence visibly wavers. "But I'm with Gramps on this one. There's no sense in an invasion when there are weird ghosts out and about." She shudders, as if recalling some grueling memory. "And I don't know if they'll strictly be over the ground. I mean, they're spirits, so... and I can't sense 'em. It's like they're invisible."

Zuko stares at her for a moment. He cannot believe this. She is with Iroh on this? Toph Beifong, who always faces problems head-on? He feels betrayed. He feels angry. He wants to burn something, but he can't, and he wants to shake each one of them and make them understand that he can't wait, that he has to fix this. But he can't.

His eyes wander over the others. And he doesn't like what he finds. "Seriously, guys? You can't seriously consider not invading in three weeks." His voice is full of hurt and indignation.

It's Sokka who answers. "Look, buddy, I don't like it either, but Iroh's got a point. If we'd assemble an invading force and that force would get taken out by the spirits before we even reach the palace, then that's bad. Very bad."

Aang nods. "Yeah. And if Ozai knows we're coming..." He trails off but everyone in the room knows what he means.

He looks at Katara. "And what do you think?" Her eyes find his and there is hurt in there, so much hurt that he wishes to take her into his arms and make it all go away. But he can't, and he knows he can't do that, so he doesn't, just looks at her with unfiltered desperation. He can be honest with her. He doesn't have to fear her rejection.

But that rejection comes nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, Zuko, I-"

But he doesn't wait for her to explain herself, and quickly trains his gaze back on Iroh, trying to ignore the hurt feeling in his chest and how his throat seems to tighten uncomfortably. "The spirits are angry at the Fire Nation, right? Well, we're fighting the Fire Nation! They should help us."

Iroh shakes his head. "I'm afraid they won't. Spirits do not differentiate between nations like we do. For them, a human is a human, and humans have brought chaos to the world. You could be attacking the Fire Lord in front of them and they wouldn't care."

Zuko can feel his nails dig into the soft flesh of his palms, leaving crescent shaped marks there. He looks to Aang, hanging onto every desperate thread of hope. "You're the Avatar. Can't you talk to them?"

Aang holds his gaze for a second, then looks away. "I don't..." He lets out a tense breath. "Look, I've been in the iceberg for a hundred years. I'm not really as good in my Avatar duties as I'd like to be."

"But you have to try! They'll have to respect you."

"I don't know how I'd do that-"

"Aang is not yet a fully realized Avatar," Iroh interjects. "He would not be able to stop a whole horde of angry spirits. In fact, he'd be at risk doing that, since he is more sensitive to spirits than we are."

His stomach tightens, threatens to turn itself upside down. He feels sick. He is searching for words, trying to grasp onto every thread of hope, no matter how thin, trying to ignore the desperation coiling in his gut, the hurt, the sense of betrayal. The guilt. The urge to fix things, to march into the capital today and try to make everything right all alone.

"But what changed your mind? You were on board with the invasion before we went to the catacombs." He doesn't understand. He just doesn't understand, and it hurts, and he hates that feeling.

"I was, yes, but that was before we had concrete plans of the Day of Black Sun and the comet. Now we know where Ozai will be during Sozin's Comet. Fighting imperial firebenders is less of a risk than fighting spirits, nephew. Believe me when I say that." And there is a hard look in Iroh's eyes, one that speaks of sieges and death and war.

"But if we fail-" His voice is nothing more than a whisper now and he feels ashamed at the warmth building up behind his right eye. He can't cry, not here, not now.

"If we fail, then we would all be dead anyway. The date wouldn't make a difference then."

And to that, Zuko has nothing more to say. He stays in the room for a moment longer, biting the inside of his cheek, racking his brain for thoughts, for words, for arguments, all while trying to reign in the guilt and rage and hurt that threaten to consume him from the inside out. But at last, he says no more and leaves the room defeated.

—

"Again."

She is getting annoyed. No, more than annoyed - irritated. She's been at this same kata for the better part of an hour now, and every time she executed it, it had been flawless. It's not unusual for the Fire Lord to check in on his daughter's training, but it is unusual for him to demand her to do the same kata over and over again.

She can feel droplets of sweat roll down her spine and resists the urge to scratch. Instead, Azula takes the same stance again, generates the same blue flames again, making them dart out in a wide but controlled arc at the last second, and then executes the same kick to top it off.

There are no mistakes there. Her footwork is perfect, her flames are deadly and precise and controlled, and the kicks and punches are timed just right. She knows it. Father knows it, too.

Which is why the kata itself is not the reason why he is demanding her to do this. No, he's here because of something else. But what? Yes, her little stunt with the prison escape was a little reckless in hindsight, but she doesn't regret any of it. The prisoners were caught without doing too much damage, the Interior Minister was let go, and no one even glanced at her when the question of how this could have happened came up.

Not even Father. But then again, Father is a master at concealing his emotions.

"Again."

She can feel a knot tighten in her stomach. He couldn't possibly know... but who is she kidding? He's the Fire Lord. He's Ozai. Of course he knows. He knows everything. But how...?

Briefly, she considers the possibility of Ty Lee and Mai telling him. After all, they're the only other people besides Azula who knew of her plan. But then she dismisses the thought just as quickly. No, they wouldn't betray her like that. They wouldn't have anything to gain by that. If Azula fell out of favor, they would too, just by being associated with her. Her best interests are their best interests.

"Again."

Another step, another punch, another kick. Her flames are hot, the hottest in the whole nation, and they burn her, too. Their heat makes her feel dizzy, and the unforgiving sun standing in its zenith overhead doesn't help either.

Maybe she wasn't as subtle as she thought she was. She'd have to fix that. But Father had to see that her plan would work out better in the long run. He had to. He does, right?

Internally, she chides herself. She's not a little girl anymore. Being uncertain will get her nowhere.

"Again."

And yet, a feeling she dreads is coiling in her gut, reaching out its ugly tendrils, trying to consume her. A feeling she only ever associated with one person. Father.

Paranoia. Fear.

She hates that feeling. She is not weak, she is Azula. She is a princess of the Fire Nation, heir to the throne, a glorious leader in the making. She does not fear, she does not dread.

But yet, here she is.

"Again."

She is thirsty, and she is dizzy, and she feels sick, and the world is spinning around her. She is panting, her lungs trying to get in air that isn't too hot to breathe, that isn't trying to scorch her lungs from the inside out. But there is none.

But she also won't quit. She is Azula, she can endure. She will do this kata over and over again as long as Father demands it. She will show him that she is not weak.

(That she is the better option. The only option.)

"Again."

The world spins. Her throat is dry and raw, her tongue lies heavily in her mouth. There are black spots in her vision and she - and she -

She lowers her arms. Gets out of the stance.

Simply enduring is not the way to end this.

Her father raises an eyebrow as she turns to him, trying not to pant too loud, not to make her loss of breath too evident. Hair sticks to her skin, plastered there by her own sweat. She hopes she doesn't look too ragged, but at that moment, only a small part of her cares about that.

"No."

Silence. A beat. Two. Then:

"No?"

Talking back to Father has never been smart. Zuko learned that the hard way. But Azula is smarter than him, so she may be able to navigate the conversation without her getting burned.

"No," she says again, gathering up all her courage, and standing up just a little straighter, ignoring the protests her back gives at that. "My execution is flawless. I know that. You know that."

"Yes, I suppose I do," comes Ozai's answer and something in his tone makes shivers run down her spine despite the heat of the summer day. She knows that tone. He starts circling her, and Azula can't help being reminded of a vulture waiting for its prey to die. "It is not very pleasant, Daughter," he continues, putting emphasis on the last word, "to be reminded of the things you already know, is it?" He comes to a stop in front of her and holds her gaze.

She doesn't flinch, she doesn't waver, she doesn't break eye contact. Her eyes burn and she aches to blink, but that would admit defeat. So she doesn't. "No, it's not." Her voice comes out strong and controlled, betraying nothing of the emotional turmoil within her.

His eyes are like steel, hard and cold and unmoving. Briefly, she is reminded of a reptile. Briefly, she is reminded of Zuko. But she shoves that thought away rather quickly and forces herself to focus.

"Then why do you assume you know better than me?"

She is in trouble. She is in big trouble. Father is hardly ever direct, but when he is, he is mad. And she knows how he is when he gets mad and would rather avoid that. But she is trapped here with him in this courtyard.

(In this palace. In this nation. In this life.)

There is nowhere to run, so she squares her shoulders and takes a deep breath, summoning all her courage.

"I do not, Father, I simply-"

But he cuts her off. "Don't shame yourself or me with your pathetic excuses. You know as well as I do what this is about." His voice is like his eyes - hard and cold. Azula suppresses a shiver.

"Interior Minister Xiam was not thinking of the future. The consequences of his plan would far outweigh the benefits and-"

"I am not interested in hearing your ideas about how I should rule over some backwater colony, Azula. I am interested in hearing why you thought you knew better than me."

This is a trap. And a very obvious one at that.

"I do not. But I know better than Xiam."

"And I trusted Xiam with this, which is why his judgment was my judgment. In questioning his intelligence, you questioned mine."

She ignores the panicked whispers in her mind telling her this is how Zuko got burned, this is how Zuko got exiled, this is how Zuko got almost killed-

"That was not my intention, Father. In fact, I thought the opposite. His foolish plans were clouding your mind. I wanted to rid you of the burden his presence proved to be." She has to spin this in another direction, somehow. Otherwise, she doesn't know how this will end. But she knows what Father does to people who question him.

Ozai seems to think about this for a minute. Then, one sleek eyebrow goes up again. "And you assumed the best way to do this was through a prison break?"

Only at the last second does she suppress a sigh of relief. She's not out of the woods yet, but she's getting close, and she has successfully steered the conversation away from the elephant-rhino in the room.

"That was the only way to get rid of him."

"That was reckless. Foolish, even."

"You always encouraged me to take the initiative. Father."

He doesn't say anything to that for a moment. Then: "I suppose that is true. Which is why I encourage you to take a break from palace life. It is getting rather stifling in here, is it not?"

What. What?

"I'm afraid I cannot follow."

"A... vacation on Ember Island would do you good. To take your mind off matters, and help you realize a few things. It would be unfortunate if you would lose your focus on your goals, would it not? Reflecting on your place in this nation would only benefit you, Daughter."

There's a calculating look in his eyes, and something tells her that she ran right into his trap. She almost can't hear him over the panicked screams in her mind while her throat tightens painfully and her stomach threatens to turn itself upside down. There are goosebumps on her skin, and she feels like she can't breathe all of a sudden.

This is a punishment. He is punishing her. He is sending her away, like he sent Zuko away, he-

Focus. She has to focus. She can't talk back to him, not now when she's already walking the razor's edge.

So Azula only nods in response and lowers her gaze respectfully. "I agree completely, Father."

Ozai nods and then turns to walk away, leaving her under the scorching noon sun. When he's almost out of earshot, he turns again. "Oh, and take the servants with you, Azula. Some of them need to be reminded of their place."

And it only drives the dagger in deeper.

—

It is a beautiful summer day, the birds are chirping, the air is humid, and Zuko feels absolutely miserable.

The Day of Black Sun is just another ordinary date in the calendar now. No invasion will happen on that day. No chance to right the balance. No chance to defeat his father and set an end to this madness.

He didn't expect to feel this bad about it. But in hindsight, it makes sense. He could never be content with just sitting around, doing nothing. He needed to do something. To be something. That purpose was taken away when his father banished him. Then, when he wandered the Earth Kingdom aimlessly. When he met the Avatar and Sokka and Toph, he'd felt like he finally found it again.

To fight the Fire Lord at the Avatar's side. To get said Avatar ready to fight said Fire Lord.

All the hope that he could muster had been focused on that day. On the eclipse. Now, no fight would happen on that day.

He feels like he's in the Earth Kingdom again. Useless and defeated and aimless.

He knows that the day of the comet will come. The war will find them soon enough, and there will be blood, he is sure of that, but that will be later, rather than sooner.

And he knows he shouldn't wish for war, shouldn't wish for the danger his friends could be in, but he itches for it. He can't help it. He needs to do something, and he needs to do something now, or he feels like he will explode.

He gets up to do just that, but a voice stops him.

"Zuko!"

Inwardly, he groans. Not now.

His uncle catches up to him, and he does his best to wipe the scowl off his face. "I hope I am not interrupting you?"

Oh no, my daily brooding session was just coming to an end anyway.

But instead of saying that, Zuko only shakes his head. "No, you weren't." Katara told him to at least try, and it's not the first time he tried to play nice with Iroh. He can do it another time.

"Walk with me?"

He nods and together, they begin walking one of the wide gardens, passing lush trees and bushes on their way.

"I take it you are still upset about earlier?" It's framed as a question, but Iroh already has the answer and is simply too polite to say it out loud. Zuko suppresses a huff. "Yes."

Beside him, Uncle takes a deep breath. "I know how scary this whole situation is, and that you want it to end as soon as possible. But if we take the first opportunity that presents itself, we might never get a chance to end this war at all."

He knows, oh he knows. But this doesn't make it feel better. He's never been very good at thinking ahead. He bites his tongue, and steers the conversation in another direction, because he cannot take any more of Iroh trying to cheer him up.

"Did you know?" And his sister would reprimand him at how direct he is, but he can't bring himself to care. He's always been the least subtle of his family, and he finds that directly coming to the point can spare a lot of time and heartache.

Iroh furrows his brows. "Know what?"

"About Roku."

And those two words seem to do it. Uncle gets that look in his eyes again, and then looks away for a moment, composing his answer. "Well, nephew," is what he finally says, but Zuko senses where he is going with this, and cuts him off. "Don't come me with excuses, Uncle. Did you know or did you not?"

Iroh holds his gaze. "Yes," he says at last, voice firm. "Yes, I did."

"How?"

"Well, your parents obviously knew. And Azulon did, too."

Zuko frowns. "But... that doesn't make any sense. The Avatar is public enemy number one. Why would Azulon allow Ozai to marry his descendant?"

Uncle doesn't answer, opting instead to look at the path ahead as they walk. The air smells faintly of blooming lotus flowers. Then, he speaks, "I suppose it was for the purpose of joining two powerful bloodlines. Hated or not, the Avatar is still the Avatar. Azulon hoped that his grandchildren would prove to be powerful benders."

Zuko thinks of Azula, and huffs. "Well, he certainly got his wish with one child."

(Some part of him feels exploited. Used, and then forgotten. He does his best to ignore it.)

"Is this realization a problem for you?" Uncle eyes him wearily.

Zuko shrugs. "I don't know. It's just... confusing. And unexpected." Not to mention annoying, when he thinks back about the jokes Aang made down in the catacombs. It won't be long until Sokka and Toph find out, and then he may as well throw himself into a volcano.

Iroh comes to a halt. Lays a hand on his shoulder. "Zuko," he says seriously, "good and evil will always be at war inside you. It is your nature, your legacy. Being confused is normal, and nothing to be ashamed of. It is only what you do with that confusion that matters."

He senses that there is some hidden meaning behind his uncle's words, but is too tired to decipher it. So he only holds his gaze for a moment, gold on gold, before he nods. "Okay."

They walk the rest of the path in silence, until they arrive in a courtyard, where Piandao and Sokka are currently sparring. The latter had been thrilled when the former offered to teach him a few tricks, and with a faint smile, Zuko remembers his own lessons with the swordmaster. Sweaty afternoons spent in the courtyard; early mornings spent on the balcony of his room meditating, feeling Agni's rays on his skin.

"You know," Uncle's voice brings him back to reality, "I could teach you a few tricks of my own. Not with swords, of course, but with fire."

Oh. Well...

He clears his throat. "Yeah, about that..." He trails off, not really knowing how to explain his current... situation. Neither he nor Katara nor anyone else from their group had spoken about what happened at the Southern Air Temple, as there had been no reason to bring it up. But now, there really isn't anything speaking against revealing their little secret.

He turns and finds a pond just a few feet away. He stretches out his hand, aware of his uncle's confused gaze following his every movement, and then summons a small tendril of water to his hand. The blue liquid obeys, glinting in the sunlight. After a second, he musters up the courage to look at Uncle.

Iroh is staring at his hand with an unreadable look in his eyes. Not for the first time does Zuko wish that his uncle would just be a bit easier to read.

At last, Iroh's eyes find his. He quirks an eyebrow, not saying anything, but Zuko understands nonetheless. He commands the water back to the pond, and lowers his arm, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I can't... I'm not a firebender anymore. I don't really know what happened, but we were at the Southern Air Temple - Aang's home - and then he went into the Avatar State and Katara and I were near him and Sokka and Toph further away to keep watch, and then we both lost consciousness somehow, and when we woke up, we both could bend each other's elements, but not our own, and I really have no idea how that happened..." He trails off, sensing that he's getting nowhere with this.

He doesn't really know what he expects from his uncle. Is he mad? Is he

disappointed?

"We found something about this in this spirit library we visited in the Si Wong Desert, actually," he supplies after a few more seconds of uncomfortable silence. "We think it's got something to do with the spirits and wanting to regain balance. I mean, obviously they'd want that, but we think that it's their way of... I don't know, actually. Wanting to make Aang feel guilty to hurry up with ending the war? Punishing him for staying in that iceberg for so long?" he muses out loud. "But it's got something to do with balance and understanding each other's opposite. And well, we don't really know how we can reverse it... if we can even reverse it. Maybe when the balance is restored we'll suddenly wake up one day and be able to bend our original elements?" If we're not dead by then. He shrugs. "I don't know, but... yeah." Not very eloquent, and he hopes he hasn't completely lost his uncle, but he doesn't know what else to say.

Iroh keeps staring at Zuko's hand, then off into the distance, pondering. In the background, Zuko can hear the noises coming from Sokka's and Piandao's sparring lesson, and wishes he were doing that instead of having to explain this complicated thing to his uncle.

At last, Iroh finally speaks out loud. "I have never heard of such a thing," he says, and Zuko's hope that he might know what to do instantly drops. "But the spirits always have their reasons. I trust this has been a learning opportunity for you both?"

He nods. "Yeah, pretty much," he agrees. "I now know two bending styles intimately and Katara and I have been working on incorporating moves from other bending styles into our katas."

Iroh hums in agreement. "A very wise decision. Do you know why the Avatar is so powerful?" he asks, but doesn't wait for an answer. "It is not only because of the simple ability to bend all four elements. No, it's because he has to immerse himself in every culture, every philosophy, every bending kata... this helps him understand people from all over the world. That, my nephew, is true balance."

"Yeah, but it still kinda sucks."

"So you mean this switch occurred when the Avatar went into the Avatar State?" Iroh asks, ignoring his comment.

Zuko nods. "Yeah. We think it's got something to do with Aang being a spirit vessel and the bridge and the spirits accessing the world through him."

"Then has Aang tried entering the Avatar State again to persuade the spirits to reverse their..." he trails off, clearly searching for a word that is not 'curse' or 'gift'. When he finds none, he simply looks at Zuko, who tries to suppress a wince.

"Well, about that..." He thinks back to a few days ago. "Aang actually can't enter the Avatar State. Not at will, anyway. We were at this temple and there was this guru who was supposed to teach him how to do that and he told us he succeeded, so we left, but just a few days ago, Sokka told us that was actually a lie." Strangely, Toph didn't seem surprised at all, he realizes now that he's thinking about it. "And he doesn't really know what brought it on at the Southern Air Temple... but he's pretty sure it's got something to do with strong emotions. I mean, finding all your people murdered will do that to you, I guess. And that's not really something he'd like to do again."

Iroh hums. "I see. And is there any way for him to learn how to access the Avatar State at will? It would be of great advantage for the war."

"Well, we could always go back to the Eastern Air Temple. But that would take time we don't have, and we don't even know if Guru Pathik is still there."

"A precarious situation indeed." And Zuko has to force himself not to huff, because yeah, precarious is an understatement. But where he is too blunt, Uncle is too courteous. "I am afraid, I do not know how to solve this problem," Iroh continues. "Only the spirits can reverse what they have done. But I can advise you not to treat your current situation as a curse or a punishment."

At this, Zuko finally allows himself to huff. "How would you feel if you could suddenly bend water and not fire anymore? Or any other element, for that matter?"

"I imagine I would be quite upset," comes the reply, "but I would try to make the best out of the situation. Like you said, this gives you an intimate knowledge of your opposite's bending style. I do not see any disadvantages in this."

And he is right. While Zuko missed feeling the comforting presence of his inner fire and Agni's rays, bending water has been... soothing, in a way. Calming and mind-clearing. He feels he understands more about bending now than he did before. And being able to feel where bodies of water are just by reaching out with his senses is pretty handy, he has to admit. Not to mention the calmness he feels when he washes himself or when it rains. Waterbending has its advantages. And to think he'd once thought of waterbenders as lesser, as inferior.

"I guess you have a point," he finally concedes.

"Hm. I guess I will have to ask Katara if she would be interested in a few lessons then. You are of course also invited, Zuko. In the meantime - have you by any chance had the opportunity to work on your Pai Sho skills?"

Notes:

Azula is not having a good time.

Then again, no one is.

Chapter 21: Twenty

Notes:

I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING LAST WEEK, CHRISTMAS WAS INVENTED BY THE DEVIL

But I think you're gonna like this chapter :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

He's sent her away.

He has actually sent her away from the palace, away from the war councils, to take a vacation. This close to the eclipse.

If Azula wouldn't know better, she'd assume Ozai lost his mind. Actually, maybe he has.

She gets that her little prison stunt was rather reckless, but he has to see that she is right about this. She is a prodigy - his prodigy - and he's been training her in the art of war all her life, so why doesn't he trust her with such things? Hasn't she proven over and over again that she is the better option? Hasn't she done enough?

(The art of war, something whispers in her mind, is not the art of life. For once, she doesn't push the thought away, but allows it to reside in her mind.)

(Maybe there's some truth to it.)

She's currently chewing the third mango of the day. One benefit of being banished to Ember Island is that there are no curious eyes that judge her every movement here. In the palace, she always got the side-eye when others deemed her food intake as too high.

(Azula, eat like a lady. You are one.

But I don't want to be one, Mother.)

She'd taken her rigorous training schedule as an excuse, but not even that had stopped the whispers. The only one who had passed food under the table to her in secret had been Zuko. But then Zuko was gone and all eyes on her.

She takes another piece of mango and relishes the taste.

(She tries not to feel abandoned, used and then thrown away. She doesn't quite succeed in this.)

"Azula!" Ty Lee somersaults over, landing in a handstand and looking at her upside-down. How the girl does it, Azula has no idea. She gets sick just seeing the position.

Well, at least she's not alone on this 'vacation'.

(And isn't that a rather interesting thought.)

"I heard there's a party tonight at Admiral Chan's house! I got us an invitation!" Ty Lee announces, flipping upright and taking a piece of mango where it sits on the table.

Azula raises an eyebrow. "A party?"

The other girl nods enthusiastically while chewing. "Uh-huh. He's said his parents aren't home so we have the whole house to ourselves."

"And what makes you think I'd want to go to a party? Or Mai, for that matter?"

"I already talked to Mai and she said it's better than sitting around. I think I heard her say something about target practice, but I'm not sure." Ty Lee frowns for a second, then continues in her usual bubbly tone. "And it's not like you have much to do, Azula. This is a vacation, after all!"

Azula sits straighter in her chair. "A vacation? Ty Lee, this is not a vacation, it's a punishment," she reminds the acrobat sharply.

But Ty Lee only shrugs. "All the more reason to enjoy it."

Really, where does that girl get her logic from?

"I have more important things to worry about than a party. The eclipse is in three weeks. Three weeks." She holds up three fingers to emphasize her point. "The Fire Nation will be vulnerable in that moment and-"

"And you firebenders will lose your powers temporarily, I know," Ty Lee finishes for her, apparently not in the least worried about annoying her Crown Princess and future Fire Lord. "But that's in three weeks. You'll need a clear head planning for this. Your aura is all grey and muddy. One party won't mean the end of the world!"

She purses her lips. "It might."

"No, it won't. You know that better than I do. Come on, Azula! It's one party. Besides, I heard they've had superspicy soufflé imported from Kirachu Island! I know that's your favorite!"

Azula gives her a sharp look. As if food could convince her to waste her time like this.

(She ignores the water gathering in her mouth at the thought of superspicy soufflé.)

But Ty Lee doesn't give up easily. "Besides, it's not like you have anything else to do." She pointedly glances at the mango and the chair Azula is currently lounging in. She sits up a bit straighter at that.

"I do, actually."

Now it's Ty Lee's turn to quirk an eyebrow. "Really? And what is that? Besides planning for the eclipse, of course."

"...inspecting the island. As the future Fire Lord, I have to know my people." That's a lie; she hadn't actually planned on doing that. But now that she thinks about it, she might as well.

"Well, that's great. Mai and I will come with you! And then after we do that, we can go to the party. It's not for several more hours, so..." She tilts her head and looks at Azula expectantly.

Azula sighs. She could force Ty Lee to drop the matter and forbid her and Mai from going to the admiral's house. But that would accomplish nothing, would it? It would only make Ty Lee sad and the girl can be really annoying when she's sad. And Mai would glance at her with this look in her eyes, the one that says 'I know what you're doing and we both know it's a lie'. And that would only make this whole situation even worse.

It's purely for tactical reasons, Azula tells herself. It's only a strategy.

"Fine," she concedes. "But only for an hour or two."

"Yay!" Ty Lee throws her arms around her, an awkward move to do from the angle she's at. Azula forces herself not to push the other girl away and lets her arms remain slung around her waist for a few seconds.

"I should throw you in prison, you know," she tells Ty Lee as she stands up straight again.

"For what?"

"For annoying your future Fire Lord."

"That's not a crime, as far as I know."

"I'll make it a crime. And if you don't watch it, I'll make wearing pink a crime too."

"Now that's just evil."

—

Power. It's flowing through her veins, like molten, liquid gold, burning and growing and expanding. She releases it in the form of fire; wild orange flames that obey her hand's every movement.

She feels powerful. She feels like the sun.

Katara finishes the kata and then slips out of the finishing pose to look at Iroh standing just a few feet away, observing her movements. Zuko sits on the steps of the porch beside his uncle, also watching her intently.

Iroh nods in satisfaction. "Very good, Katara. You are a quick learner, judging by your story. Your movements are very precise and your fire very controlled. Not every bender at your age can do that."

Heat rushes to her cheeks, not caused by the unforgiving sun overhead. "Thank you. I had a good teacher." She glances over at Zuko, who gives her a small smile. Her heart skips a beat at how soft that expression makes him look.

Wait. What? But before she can ponder over this, Iroh catches her attention again. "My nephew told me you started incorporating katas from other bending styles?"

She nods. "Yeah, we did. Helped us a lot in learning. Fire and water work pretty well together, actually."

Iroh hums. "Opposites often have a lot more in common than one might think." He glances at his nephew. Then: "Zuko, might you demonstrate your waterbending? Those outside the Water Tribes rarely get to see actual waterbending," he adds with a look at her. "It is a beautiful art, you see."

"Oh yeah, I agree. But actually," she says as Zuko stands up and joins them, creating a small circle, "I'd like to ask you a question first." She's a bit unsure about this, but there is no reason to hide her discoveries. They're safe here. Iroh is safe.

He looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate.

"You're a master, right?"

"He is," comes Zuko's reply at the same time as Iroh says, "I would believe myself to be one, yes. Although," he adds, "even a master should not pass upon the opportunity to learn. There is always more to discover."

"Well, then I guess you'd like this... have you ever, by any chance, heard of healing?"

Iroh nods. "waterbenders can heal, yes. Can you, nephew?"

Zuko looks a bit ashamed at that. "Uh... no, not really. I've tried, but... nothing." He looks at the ground, not meeting his uncle's gaze.

"Not everyone can heal," Katara assures Iroh quickly. "Aang can't either. It's really not a question of talent and it's not like Zuko was born a waterbender... but anyway, have you ever heard of healing with... fire?"

"Healing with fire?" Iroh raises an eyebrow. "My, that would be delightful! But no, I am afraid I have never heard of it, nor has anyone else in my generation, at least as far as I know. Why? Have you discovered a new technique?"

"Yeah, I think I did." She knots her fingers in front of her stomach. "Toph was sick one day and we didn't know what to do so I thought that maybe I could relieve her fever or something... and I ended up healing her."

"Toph was as lively as ever when Sokka and I came back," Zuko agrees. "If the other's hadn't told us what happened, we never would have thought there was anything wrong."

She catches his eye for a second, remembering how she'd explained the chi pathways to him that day. Remembers the trance she'd found herself in, his soft skin under her fingertips, the faint scars she'd traced with her fingers on his shoulders, his chest rising and sinking in an even pattern.

She looks away as she feels her cheeks begin to heat and hopes no one notices.

(Out of the corner of her eye, she thinks she can see his good cheek pinken.)

"Oh, really?" Iroh asks. "Truly a remarkable thing. Imagine the possibilities! If you don't mind, would you explain it to me? I would rather not pass up the opportunity to learn such a technique."

"Yeah, sure. But, uhm, before that... I'd like to ask another question."

"Of course. Out with it."

"It's kinda the opposite of healing... before we found you and Piandao, I got... into a difficult situation." And now that's an understatement. She looks to Zuko for reassurance, sees the recognition in his golden eyes, and then he nods, as if to tell her 'go ahead. I'm here.'

She swallows, then continues. "I had to kill to save my own life." She sees that night as if she were there again, as if she were still stuck in that horrible moment. Yana's cruel laugh, Shizu's limps unnaturally distorted, Katara's own paralysis. Despite the summer heat, she can feel goosebumps on her skin.

She blinks. Takes in the scent of flowers in the air. She's not there anymore. She's here. And she's safe.

(There's a gentle heat wrapping itself around her, as if to soothe her, to calm her. It's coming from him and all she wants to do is to reach out and never let go.)

"But I had to... get creative." She suppresses a wince at her choice of words. "It wasn't pretty. I could only move one hand, and well..." Another quick glance at Zuko. Another reassurance. "I sucked the heat out of someone. Or at least that's what I think I did. I realized that when I close my eyes and reach out with my bending, I can feel heat emitting from living bodies. And without that heat, those living beings cannot function. So... I pulled on it. And then she was dead."

And it sounds so much like bloodbending that she wants to throw up.

Iroh only looks at her in thought for a few seconds, his face unreadable, and for a moment she thinks she went too far, that it was a mistake revealing this to him. But then, the lines on his face harden, and not in a judgemental way.

"I wish I could say I had never thought about this myself but... desperate situations often call for desperate solutions. Body heat is something a lot of people don't think about, even firebenders. But it is essential to our survival. If one could manipulate this heat..." He trails off, looking off into the distance with a grim expression. Then, his gaze finds hers again. "But I am confident you had your reasons. Not every conflict can be solved peacefully, I am afraid."

And Katara lets out a relieved breath. She doesn't know why, but the weight on her chest feels just a bit lighter at that, just a bit more possible to manage.

"On a happier note," Iroh continues, "before you two show me what you have accomplished these past few months and what is behind that mysterious new technique of yours, I would like to show you one of my own. In fact, I developed it based on waterbending."

That piques her interest, and as Iroh leans forward, as if to reveal some grand secret to them, she can see that Zuko isn't unaffected either.

"Have you ever heard of redirecting lightning?"

—

True to its name, Ember Island is full of embers: some will bring a campfire to life to light the way in the dark and give warmth to the rare chill in the air, and others will cause an explosion. It is not hard to figure out who belongs to which scenario. The Fire Nation was never subtle about its class differences, after all.

Azula would never admit it, but after seeing the way the villagers on the outskirts of the island live, where the land meets the sea in the form of impossibly high cliffs instead of luxurious volcanic sand, the opulent decadence of the party seems… distasteful. Yes, it leaves a certain taste in her mouth and she's not sure she likes it.

Oh, she certainly deserves the luxus. She's the heir to the throne after all, and there are certain perks to being royalty. But what is all this worth if the economy is about to crash?

Ember Island with its lush rainforests and endlessly long beaches has been a tourist destination for the wealthy since before the war even began. But lately, the war has been more and more of a priority than making sure the resorts are still run flawlessly, and so the island's resources had been directed into building and maintaining factories and its workers, leaving the locals not schooled in the art of crafting metal high and dry.

It's Yu Dao all over again, and this time, she's on a leash.

The spiced wine burns pleasantly on her tongue and then in her throat as she takes another sip. It's her third glass since arriving at this stupid party and she clings to the cup as if her life depended on it. Not that she'd ever admit that.

But Ty Lee is flirting with everything that moves and Mai is skulking in some corner, doing Agni knows what, so Azula's only entertainment is the wine that flows as endlessly as the famous waterfalls on this island. And the superspicy soufflé, of course. So much superspicy soufflé.

But really, what is she supposed to do? She has nothing in common with these teenagers, hollering and laughing and making out in corners and occasionally being scared off by Mai.

They don't know what it is like to prepare for war. They don't know what it feels like to give their all and get nothing in return.

(They don't know what it's like to be a weapon, raised as one and sharpened all her life. To cut parts of oneself off until something distorted, something twisted, something dark, and yet still glaring like Agni's golden rays, remains.)

(They don't know what it's like to be Azula.)

They only know lavish parties and endless food with rich spices and sauces. They only know free time. They only know harmless games and wishes read off of their lips.

They don't know anything else. They don't know how it feels to have dirt and sweat and blood clinging to your skin. But she does. And she can't just let that go.

She knows she's supposed to. She knows she should only concern herself with the war effort. At least, that is what Father would say.

But she also knows that the Fire Nation is a war machine, relying on its lowest citizens to keep it up and running. And that a war machine cannot function with its citizens getting weaker and weaker, with conflict arising on the inside instead of the outside.

So obviously, a functioning war machine is a functioning Fire Nation. Right?

But the machine is failing. And nobody will do anything about it. The Fire Nation is in danger of collapsing, and no one at this fucking party or at the fucking war councils back home will even acknowledge that there's a problem.

Not even the Fire Lord will, so as usual, it is Azula's task to clean up after him.

She's getting really tired of this.

Agni, she needs another drink to deal with all this.

But just as she's moving towards the table with food and drink on it, a certain acrobat comes up to her side, her cheeks red from the heat and the alcohol and her eyes just slightly glazed over. "Azula!" she exclaims. "There you are! I've been looking for you!"

Azula arches an eyebrow as she helps herself to another drink. "Really? You seemed a little too busy to be concerned with such trivial things as your princess."

Ty Lee cocks her head to the side. "Huh? What do you mean?" she asks, either not catching on or ignoring the dangerous undertone in Azula's voice. "Of course I've been thinking about you, silly! You look a little bored. I haven't seen you talk to anyone since we arrived."

"I've talked to Mai."

"Mai doesn't count."

"Well, then who else would I be talking to? I don't know anyone here." She takes a sip, feels the heat of the alcohol in her cheeks.

"That's what parties are for!" Ty Lee tells her. "You get to meet new people and have fun. You should try it."

"I disagree."

"Aw, come on! It won't kill you to not think about war meetings for one evening. Look, how about that guy over there?" Azula turns in the direction Ty Lee is pointing in, and then promptly turns back.

"Absolutely not."

"You shouldn't judge a scroll by its binding."

"That's an asinine thought, and you know it."

"Just give it a try. One try. Okay? For me? Please?"

It's the alcohol, Azula insists to herself. It's the alcohol that makes her strike up a conversation with the guy, apparently named Chan, and not the way Ty Lee had looked at her with that pleading look in her eyes that no one could say no to.

Damn you, spiced wine.

Azula can lie effortlessly. She can tell others that she is a purple platypus bear and they will believe her. She can navigate conversations with an enraged Ozai, make them play out in her favor. She can send grown men and hardened generals into fear-induced heart attacks.

But she apparently cannot have one normal conversation with another teenager.

After another awkward pause, she starts talking about the one topic she knows by heart: bending. But Chan is not a bender and can therefore not share anything that would interest her. So she goes with her second favorite topic: the war. But he looks put off by that, too.

Oh well. Time to improvise. Never let it be said that Azula is a coward.

"And since we're already talking about the war effort," she says, conveniently ignoring the fact that she is in fact the only one talking about said war effort, "you should be careful. Your... outfit's so sharp, it could puncture the hull of an empire-class Fire Nation battleship, leaving thousands to drown at sea."

Silence.

A beat. Two. Then:

"Uhm... thanks?"

The alcohol. She blames the alcohol.

"Listen," Chan continues, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, "this is a party. You should try to have some fun. You seem a little tense."

What is it with everyone insisting to tell her how 'tense' she is? She isn't tense, she's just... prepared for the worst thing happening. She grew up with Zuko after all. That boy attracts bad luck like a corpse does flies.

Nevertheless, she takes the cue.

"And how do you suggest I do that?" She arches a questioning eyebrow, challenging him.

He shrugs. "I don't know. I... might have an idea, though."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

He looks at her for a second longer, then leans in - close, far too close, has he never heard of the concept of personal space, she is his princess, what is he doing - and kisses her.

Agni. Some random guy at a party is kissing her.

His lips are hot and wet on her own, his tongue coaxing her mouth open and exploring it after a few seconds. She lets him, taking in the new sensation, momentarily too stunned to do anything.

And then she pushes him away.

Huh. So this is how this feels.

(She can't say it was bad.)

Chan looks at her with big, confused eyes. "Is something wrong? Did you..." He looks at her lips, then back at her eyes. "Spirits, I'm sorry; I must have misread..."

She blinks. Shakes her head to clear the haze having accumulated due to the wine. Then leaves him in his corner without another word and goes to find Ty Lee.

She runs into Mai first.

"Well, that was something," the other girl says, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her, one perfect eyebrow raised.

Azula just rolls her eyes. "Have you seen Ty Lee? I need to talk to her."

Mai doesn't bother answering, just nods with her chin in a direction where Ty Lee is currently surrounded by no less than three boys at once.

Spirits, what is wrong with that girl.

("What is wrong with that child?")

"Ty Lee, we're leaving."

Big grey eyes turn to her. Oh no, not again. "Azula, plea-"

"No."

"Oh come on, it's a party, relax." She turns a glare onto the speaker, a broad-chested man definitely too old to hang out with the people here. He abruptly shuts his mouth and averts his eyes.

Hah. She's still got it.

She doesn't wait for Ty Lee to say anything as she walks onward. If she's smart, she'll get the hint.

"Don't you think that was a bit harsh?" Mai asks as they exit the door. Azula takes in a deep breath of the fresh night air, immediately feeling her thoughts sobering up. Spirits, finally. She can think again.

"No, I don't think so. I never forced her to come with us, didn't I?"

And ah, there is that look. She ignores it and keeps walking along the beach, Mai a few paces behind her and Ty Lee exiting the house and hurrying after them.

"Azula!" she says as she catches up to her, just slightly out of breath. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Azula scoffs. "Why should anything have happened?"

"You seemed in a hurry."

"I'm always in a hurry."

"Yeah, but... but not like that. Did that guy do anything to you?"

Well, technically yes and technically no. She doesn't know how to feel about it. "Bold of you to assume I'd let him do anything to me. And if he did, his whole house would be up in flames by now."

(Would it?)

"I know that but..." Ty Lee trails off, seemingly out of words. Then she steps before Azula, and forces her to come to a halt. "Are you okay?"

Another scoff. "What an asinine question."

"Not to me, it isn't."

She rolls her eyes. "Ty Lee-"

"I think we should talk about it."

She raises an eyebrow. "Talk about what?"

Ty Lee ignores the warning undertone in Azula's voice. "Talk about how you're obviously not okay. Not since we came back from the Earth Kingdom. I know it isn't a coincidence that we ended up here just after what we did to that minister. Your father is really not happy with you, is he?"

"That's the Fire Lord to you-"

"Please, Azula, just-" She cuts herself off, and clenches her fists in frustration. A rare sight for someone as bubbly as Ty Lee. "Stop trying to change the topic. I know you're not okay, and Mai knows it, and you know it."

Azula glances at Mai, who only shrugs.

"And we're your friends," Ty Lee continues. "Friends, Azula. We're there for each other and we listen to each other and we try to help each other. So please just... just talk to us."

Silence.

She mulls the thought over while listening to the waves crashing on the beach, and the wind rustling through the leaves of the palm trees. She could tell Ty Lee to stop. Force her to not say anything again for the rest of the trip. Mai would go along with it without complaint. It would make many things easier.

But... would it really? There's a pressure in her head, and it's been building ever since coming to this stupid island. And Mai and Ty Lee... they wouldn't tell anyone? Would they?

No, they wouldn't. They never have.

It's the alcohol, she tells herself. Definitely the alcohol.

("Azula always lies.")

"Fine," she starts at last. "No, this isn't a vacation. It's a punishment. Father caught on to what I did and... felt the need to remind me of my place." She hisses the last word like it's a curse. Maybe it is. "He is making one bad decision after another and I cannot stop him. I have tried so, so hard but he just won't listen. It's like I'm not worth listening to, like I failed him once and that's enough cause for him to throw me away-"

She cuts herself off. No, she can't go in that direction.

He wouldn't.

(Would he?)

(She doesn't know.)

"I could make him proud," she says after she's gathered herself. "I could help him make this nation greater than ever before. I could help him become greater than even Sozin. If he'd just let me. But no, he treats me like I'm not his prodigy anymore, like I've outgrown my use, like I'm Zuko. I-"

She takes a deep breath in. A deep breath out.

Calm yourself, a voice sounding like her father's demands. You're making a spectacle. It's pathetic.

But she doesn't want to calm herself. And he's not here, is he?

"He is running this nation to the ground," she states, staring out at the ocean. "He is running this nation to the ground and he will not let me save it."

(A fool with a crown is a dangerous fool.)

It feels good, saying it out loud. It's not a new thought. Just one she'd never let the confines of her mind escape.

It feels a bit like treason. But is it really treason if she wants the best for this nation?

She doesn't know. She doesn't care. She probably should. But she doesn't.

And at that moment, she feels calmer than she has in a long time.

(He is a Fire Lord. But she is destined to become a great leader.)

(There is a difference.)

She only becomes aware of the silence when Ty Lee breaks it, throwing her arms around her and holding on tight. "Oh, Azula! I had no idea! I am so sorry."

And Azula doesn't push her away. Allows her arms to come up around the acrobat and squeeze tightly. It feels good. She doesn't know if it should, but it feels good, and she doesn't care.

After a few seconds, Ty Lee steps back.

"I mean, I knew there was something wrong, but I didn't think... that."

Azula huffs. "I didn't expect you to. After all, those aren't thoughts the Crown Princess should entertain, no?"

She looks pointedly at Mai, the warning loud and clear in her eyes.

If you tell anyone, it will be the last time you'll ever tell anyone anything.

But Mai only raises an eyebrow. "If those thoughts have the best of the nation in mind, then yes, I would say a princess ought to entertain them."

Huh. Hear, hear.

She can work with that.

"Isn't there a factory, just on the other side of the island, causing the people to refuse to work and taking away all their resources?" the other girl continues, something sharp, something exciting, glinting in her pale eyes.

"Yes," Azula agrees. "Yes, there is." Well, look at how this evening turned out. Maybe the party wasn't such a bad idea after all. "It's a terrible drain on the already scarce resources, and bad for the economy if only one part of the nation functions."

"Then we ought to do something about that, shouldn't we?"

She smirks. Looks from Mai to Ty Lee, who nods in excitement.

"Yes, we should."

After all, it's not treason if it's for the betterment of the nation.

—

The sun is just sinking past the horizon, coloring the sky and the few remaining clouds an impressive gold and orange, as Appa lands and they begin to set up camp.

Saying goodbye to Iroh and Piandao hadn't been something they had been eager to do, but they'd all known that their time at the estate had to come to an end eventually. And back it is to camp life.

At least, they'll see Iroh and the swordmaster again after the eclipse, just three weeks before the arrival of the comet. They'd agreed to meet up at the Black Cliffs, a series of coastal cliff-faces and stacks located just offshore on an uninhabited island close to the Fire Nation's capital, but just far away and secluded enough to make it a safe rendezvous point. In other words: perfect for hiding gathered forces for an invasion.

They haven't actually hatched a plan yet. But they're getting there.

So while Iroh and Piandao gather allies in the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom - something about a network called the White Lotus and the power of Pai Sho and good tea (something Zuko had scoffed at) -, Aang and the rest are off... visiting one special island, just off the coast of the Western Air Temple.

Iroh had said something about how there is more to its name. Although Aang hadn't understood a single thing because what more could there possibly be to four letters?

Well. They'd find out tomorrow.

For now, Aang has something else to do.

It's the Summer Solstice. The longest day of the year, and with that, also a day where the veil between the mortal and the Spirit World is at its thinnest. He's got to take advantage of that. Maybe he can figure out just what the hell is going on.

So while the others set up camp and begin their usual routine of preparing food and setting up the fire and bickering (only this time mixed with a bit of uncertainty because Katara had (albeit hesitantly) suggested going to the North Pole for help, and no one had been too sure about that, so now everyone is just kinda tiptoeing around the topic), Aang slips away to find a comfortable rock to sit on, facing the sinking sun in the west and the ocean, colored in soft orange hues.

It's a spectacular view. He breathes in deep, takes in the scent of leaves on the air, of flower petals, of the ocean breeze, feels it against his skin, and then releases that deep breath. Over the months he's gotten better at this; at letting go of his fears and anxiety to just concentrate and meditate.

He'd been good at it, once, before his life had turned itself upside down and he awoke a hundred years too late to a completely new world. Now, everything is wrong, but at least there's a routine to it. At least they'd learned how to live with the doom that accompanied them ever since they'd found out they had a deadline.

Things are far from good, but that is okay. For now, it is okay.

And the Avatar breathes deep, closes his eyes, and lets go.

—

She's pretty sure she now gets why firebenders do the things they do. Why they want to see the world kneel at their feet.

Not that that excuses them for their actions, but... it's a reason.

Katara has rarely felt more powerful than this. She knows power, is intimately familiar with it. She's a master waterbender, a prodigy, a bloodbender. On the Winter Solstices, she used to spend most of her time bending. Just feeling the water heed her each and every will, her every movement. To feel its power, to reach out with her senses and feel every single droplet of her element in her surroundings, ready to do as she pleased.

Firebending, as it turns out, is not so different.

Sure, it feels different. But at the same time, it doesn't. The power is there. Only this time, it doesn't come from the moon, but the sun. Instead of blue, there is a lot of red and orange. The movements are sharper, quicker, but just as graceful when she mimics waterbending stances. There is liquid gold running through her veins instead of silver and she likes it.

She feels powerful. She feels alive.

"Is that dancing or is that bending?" comes a voice from behind her. She drops her stance and turns. Her smile widens into a grin.

"I don't see why it can't be both."

Zuko chuckles and walks downhill, kicking pebbles loose with his feet. "You know, every firebender currently alive would disagree with you on that."

She arches an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Dancing's kinda a no-go in the Fire Nation."

"What? Why?" She frowns. "Dancing is natural. In the Water Tribe's, we regularly perform dances."

He vaguely gestures with his hand. "Yeah, but you've seen how well firebending goes with dancing. That's not very good for the war effort if people would bend like that."

"Can't they just... I don't know, differentiate between bending for combat and bending for other purposes? Like for art or something?"

He shakes his head. "It's not that. The problem is the source. Dancing is... not something you do out of anger," he explains. "It's something that comes from the heart. And if your heart is preoccupied with all those positive emotions, then you're not likely to contribute to a war. It wouldn't be in your nature."

She can feel her eyebrows knit together. "So you're saying that all firebenders are evil in nature?"

Another headshake, a slight chuckle. "No. Although some people would think that." And they both know who he means with that. Used to mean with that. "I'm saying that their bending got warped over time. It was a thing of beauty, of passion. A way to express yourself. And then Sozin destroyed that and told his nation they needed to spread their glory. So bending got used as a tool instead. A tool for war."

The mood is more somber now. It's like she can feel it in the air, something dark and heavy and sad. So unbelievably sad.

"War has a way of destroying everything, huh," she mutters under her breath, although she knows he is close enough to hear her. And it really is a shame - firebending is a thing of beauty. Every element is special in its own way and fascinating to watch, but fire has something spectacular to it. The way deadly flames are wielded with such precision, such control, such power from within.

She wonders, just for a moment, what it would have been like to grow up in a world with no war. In a world where all four nations lived in peace and no element was forced under the heel of another. A world where she would have grown up seeing fire as something beautiful instead of something only used to destroy.

"Yeah, it does," Zuko agrees, bringing her back to reality with his voice. Katara looks at him, studies the way his eyes glint in the orange sunlight - gold, so much gold. It's like two small suns are looking right back at her, radiating gentle heat and comfort.

She wants to ask him if he misses it. If he misses his fire and the power he'd feel on this day. But she doesn't. She knows the answer. They both do.

Instead, she tilts her head back and closes her eyes, feeling the last rays of the sinking sun on her face. "You know," she says after a moment of silence. "I think I get it."

"Get what?"

"Why your nation does the things it does. This power... it just feels amazing. So amazing." She looks at him to find him watching her intently. "Not that that's any excuse, but I mean, I feel like I could take on the whole world right now and not tire."

He chuckles, the expression making his face seem so much softer in the orange glow of the sky above them. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. The Summer Solstice is a big thing in the Fire Nation. Obviously," he adds quickly. "Just like I imagine the Winter Solstice to be a big deal in the Water Tribes."

He phases that last sentence like a question, so she gives him the courtesy to elaborate. "Yes, we'd have the biggest feasts and dances and waterbending shows. We would prepare a whole month in advance for it. Some years, we'd sail to the north and celebrate with our sister tribe, or they'd come south. And I used to spend as much of my day as possible bending. I'd be sore and tired the next day, but it'd be worth it every time."

"Then I guess the Fire Nation and Water Tribe's are not so different. Except for the dances and the date, obviously. I bet the caldera looks beautiful today. There would be lanterns everywhere and performers on the streets and vendors selling all kinds of charms and food. And the palace would host a big feast for the nobles, although Azula and I would get bored an hour in. We used to play this game when we were younger where we'd try to snip rice grains into the glasses of others without getting caught and then watch them drink it."

Katara laughs at the mental image of a young Zuko watching with big round eyes and lips pressed tightly together in anticipation as some old and stuffy noble discovers a rice grain in his drink. She can't picture his sister, but she used to do similar things with Sokka, so she can relate.

"Sokka and I, we'd steal jerky from other people's plates when they weren't looking. Sokka won every time. Naturally," she adds with a roll of her eyes.

"That's Sokka for you. He told me to shut up earlier when I didn't even say anything."

"Oh? And how did you happen to disturb His Highness?" she questions with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

"By walking by and existing, apparently. He and Toph were very focused on their Pai Sho game."

She recalls Iroh finding the time to teach Sokka. "I bet you regret ever introducing your uncle to him."

He nods fervently. "Spirits, yes," he agrees. "I mean, I dreaded it before but I really didn't think it would be this bad. It's like having Uncle here, just younger and even more annoying."

"And dumber."

"That too, yeah. At least he's not obsessed with tea."

"Don't tell him that. He'll do it just to annoy you."

"At that point, I'd be impressed by the effort."

She laughs. "Again, don't tell him that," she warns. "He'll really do it. His commitment is impressive, I agree, but it's still annoying. But that's my brother for you. Annoying, but impressive."

A pained expression flickers over his face then, but it's gone in an instant. She wants to ask, wants him to tell her what he's thinking about, but gets the feeling that he might not want to. He'd tell her if he did. She can trust in that. So instead she asks him, "So, Hotman, do you, by chance, happen to know any of these elaborate festival forms?" She gestures with her hands for emphasis.

Zuko smiles. "I do, in fact," he answers. "I copied them from watching the performers since my tutors didn't teach me, so they're not very good or anything."

Katara shrugs. "Works for me."

"And I haven't used them in ages."

"Are you trying to talk your way out of this?" she asks with raised eyebrows, a smirk on her lips.

"Depends - is it working?"

She laughs. "Nope. And come on, a bit of exercise will do those old bones of yours good. Besides, I need to bend! Like, right now. So please? Pretty please?" She gives him her biggest eyes. She's been told that they have the effect of softening even the grumpiest and meanest man.

She does not get disappointed. "Fine," he allows with a mock bow. "If Her Highness so wishes."

"Her Highness does, yes."

So Zuko shows her several forms used not for combat but for art. He nudges her feet wider apart and corrects her stances and lets his fingers linger too long on the naked skin of her arms and shoulders. Katara doesn't know if she just imagines that last part, but somehow, she really doesn't want it to be just imagination. She likes the feelings his fingers on her skin elicit in her, the way her stomach feels funny, the way goosebumps follow after every touch. The way a tingling feeling is left behind in the wake of his fingers.

Maybe she should think about that. Maybe she should ask herself what she is doing. But with the way power courses through her veins, she finds that she doesn't care to.

Concentrating becomes harder and harder with every passing minute. She finds that she focuses more on the way his fingers feel on her wrists and his broad chest pressed against her back - has he always been this muscular? Yes, she recalls, he always has been. This is not a new observation. The only new thing here is actually feeling those muscles pressed against her.

Has breathing always been this hard or is she just imagining that?

Heat rushes to her cheeks when she hears his voice near her ear, all raspy and deep. Some might say it sounds as if he screamed his lungs out and never recovered from that. To her, it simply sounds comforting.

His breath brushes her cheek and heat pools in a vastly different area than her cheeks.

Spirits, Katara. Get it together.

She tries focusing on his instructions, but he is standing directly behind her and touching her and - and - she is only one woman. And he is attractive. Very attractive. Who can blame her?

Katara turns her head, looks at him. He doesn't catch her gaze, keeps his eyes trained in front of him, his lips moving to speak words she doesn't hear. Zuko is a contradiction in itself, she finds, all hard angles and lines and muscles that blend into soft skin and gentle touches.

He is beautiful. And so very gentle and passionate and - and -

Spirits, she can't take it anymore.

And so she kisses him. Cuts him right off in the middle of a sentence she has never listened to and presses her mouth to his. His lips are soft under her tongue, and warm, and he feels so very comforting. She closes her eyes, takes the moment in. The world seems to fade away around them and the only thing she can feel, the only thing she knows, are his lips pressed against hers, the way his scent seems to linger in her nose.

And then his lips are moving against hers, kissing her back and - and -

And then he pulls away.

And the world starts spinning again, faster than before. She is dizzy, she is confused, she is mortified.

What has she done?

He is her friend. Zuko is her friend, and she just -

There is a heavy weight on her chest and her stomach has somehow, in the space of a second, woven itself into knots so tightly she doubts she'll ever get them out. All her muscles are tense, and she doesn't know why, only knows that she might run to the nearest cliff to jump off of. She wishes she were an earthbender so that she could make herself disappear into a hole. She wishes Toph were here to grant her request.

But no, then Toph would have been here to sense what had just happened, and that would be even more horrifying, because Toph is Toph and -

They're not far from camp. Toph could have felt it.

Spirits, she wants to die.

But wait - Katara is not alone in this horrible moment. There is someone staring at her. Or at least that is what it feels like.

She hesitantly raises her gaze, ignoring every cell in her body screaming at her to do the opposite. And yes - there Zuko is, standing in all his unfair glory, staring at her. His lips are slightly parted, and no, she is not looking at his lips.

His eyes are full of confusion, but he doesn't seem to be angry. Is that good or bad? He is a forgiving person, but what if he doesn't feel the same way she does? Did she imagine his fingers lingering more on her skin than perhaps necessary? Did she imagine him kissing her back? It was only for a split second, but still.

Did she imagine all that? She doesn't want to have imagined all that. She doesn't know what she'll do if she did.

Actually, yes, she does know. She'll find the nearest cliff.

But what about her feelings - does she see him in that way? He is a friend, yes, and a very good one at that - maybe her best friend. The only one she's felt she could open up to ever since this crazy journey started. And she had felt some attraction to him for some time now. But still - that alone doesn't justify a kiss.

Did she only kiss him because she felt powerful because of the Solstice? Was that it?

(She doesn't want it to be.)

And yet, she feels all of her previous power and confidence drain away, just like the sun sinking behind the horizon and leaving only darkness behind.

She should probably say something. She doesn't know how long they've been standing there, staring at each other, neither saying anything. But she doesn't know what.

What do you say when you suddenly kiss someone and that someone pulls away?

"I'm..." she starts, her voice weak and hoarse. She clears her throat. "I..." Has forming sentences always been this hard? How do people do this on the regular anyway?

Her throat feels dry.

Spirits, she doesn't want to lose him. She can't. She just can't.

If she could, she would reverse time and let all this never happen. But it has happened, and there is nothing she can do about it. Or him, for that matter.

She feels foolish. She feels like a little girl who was too overconfident and got burned. Literally.

Heat rushes to her cheeks, and it's not as pleasurable as it was last time.

Tui and La, she is so stupid. So, so stupid.

"Look, I-" she starts to say, thanking whatever spirits are laughing at her right now that she can at least form two words. And of course that is the moment Sokka's voice calls their names from camp.

Because of fucking course.

Notes:

I had way too much fun writing my take on the Ember Island episode. God, Azula, you're way too fun to write failing at normal human things. But then again, she didn't do too bad this chapter considering...

And yes, that last part really happened :) It only took like, what, 250k words? Truth be told, when writing this fic I never bothered checking the total word count and wow... it is much more than I'd have thought. But hey, I promised a slowburn, didn't I?

Hope you all had a good christmas and will have a good new year's eve (I'll be staying inside and alternating between studying and playing drinking games), see you next year!

Chapter 22: Twenty-One

Notes:

This one's a little on the shorter side but it made sense to cut it here. You'll see why in the next chapter.

Also, I've made the unfornate discovery that I apparently cannot count. We've been at ≈ 150k words as of last chapter, not 250k. I really need to get more sleep before a mistake like that happens in my upcoming math exam.

Chapter Text

He awakens to the feeling of the ground underneath him moving. Huh. He must have fallen asleep. But the disappointment and frustration at having wasted a chance to talk to his past lives to potentially get vital information are short-lived because the ground underneath him is moving and what the hell happened.

Brief images of Fire Nation soldiers flash before his inner eye. Fire, red, so much red -

But the island is uninhabited, just a small one almost in Air Nomad territory, so how could they have found him and his group? And more importantly - why can't he hear anything?

It doesn't make sense.

Aang opens his eyes, prepared to strike down any soldiers.

Huh.

No one's there.

No soldiers, no captured friends of his, no fire.

Instead, he finds himself staring at a tree. Several trees, in fact. Trees that are moving.

What in the spirit's name...?

He meditated - or fell asleep, he still isn't sure, and he could kick himself for that because he's supposed to be the last hope for the world, how can he just fall asleep like that - sitting on a cliff, facing the ocean and the sinking sun. And now he's... surrounded by trees? There were trees behind him on that cliff, but where is the cliff? And why are they moving?

He can feel the vibrations in the ground, can feel something moving slowly but steadily with great force behind it. He tries to mimic Toph and sends out his earth sense, and yes, indeed, there is earth, and there are roots from various trees and other plants, but then underneath that there is... nothing? That doesn't make sense.

None of this does.

Aang climbs the tallest tree he can find, uses the air around him to propel him higher and higher, and finally settles in the highest branches, carefully balancing his weight.

There is the ocean, all right. Except that there is nothing but ocean.

The island they landed on is small, yes, but not that small.

The panic that had first sparked in his chest upon awakening grows bigger now, kindles a fire within him.

Where is he? What happened?

He does his best to slow his breathing and the rapidly beating heart in his chest, because it's okay, everything's gonna be alright, he'll find a way off this... whatever this is, and then he'll find his friends again and maybe get over the embarrassment of having fallen asleep during an important spiritual mission to potentially save the world.

He jumps around from tree to tree, looking for landmarks or anything else that could give him answers, but it's dark and he can only look so far. At last, he ends up on the other side of the... moving island. And they are definitely moving. He can feel the movement of the air around him, sees the waves in the dark water beneath him.

His friends are gonna be so worried. They have a deadline. They have to hurry. They don't have time for this, so he has to find a way to get off this island.

He dives into the water. He doesn't know where he is, but he can't be that far, right? It's only been a few hours and if the island's moving that way, then he has to just go the other way... hopefully. He conveniently ignores the possibility that he could get lost and end up stranded alone in enemy territory.

He's a waterbender. He'll be fine.

Aang turns around underwater, ignores the bubbles floating to the surface and clouding his vision, and... stops.

There is a giant eye staring back at him.

He lets out a surprised shout, takes in water, begins to cough, and then attempts to propel himself into the air, but something gigantic moving underneath him cuts him to it, and then he is lifted out of the water and into the air, and the force of the water almost topples him, and the only thing he can do is to close his eyes and hold on.

Then, the thing underneath him stops moving.

He warily opens his eyes. And sees two bronze eyes meeting his gaze.

He should feel afraid. He should run for his very life. But something in him tells him that he shouldn't. That he is in no danger.

Some part of him that is older than himself, has lived a thousand lives before and is as ancient and great as the world itself, tells him that this is exactly what he'd set out to do when he'd settled on that cliff to meditate. A strange calmness overcomes him, and he knows that in such matters, it is better to listen to that strange part of him that he still doesn't fully understand himself, for it is greater and wiser than Aang will ever be.

He takes a deep breath, and bows.

Avatar, the strange creature speaks, and its voice is no physical thing. It is in his head, sounding ancient and not like one voice, but hundreds.

And, suddenly, he knows.

He doesn't know how, but he knows.

"Lion Turtle."

—

"Aang's definitely missing."

"You sure? Maybe he's just searching for lychee nuts or chasing after some butterfly-bats."

"You do realize they're nocturnal, right?"

Katara rolls her eyes. "Not important, Sokka."

"He's right," Toph chimes in. "I can't feel him anywhere."

Zuko's brow furrows. "Are you sure?"

She gives him a look. Impressive for someone who has no reference to how people do it who actually rely on seeing them. "Yes, I'm sure. You could run the perimeter of the island in an hour. He isn't here, I'd feel him otherwise."

"Maybe he's up in a tree?" Katara suggests. "You wouldn't feel him then."

"Yeah, but it's been that way for over an hour now. He's got to come down sometime," Toph argues.

"Maybe he fell asleep?"

"Or maybe he got eaten by some giant creature who has claimed this island as its own and it's a warning for us to get off or we'll be next."

Katara rolls her eyes. "You've read too many spirit tales, Sokka."

Sokka bristles. "It could be! Who knows what creatures the Fire Nation harbors. They built their capital in a volcano -"

"A dead volcano," Zuko reminds him.

" - and they want to take over the world, so I don't think it's too far off to assume that they've got man-eating monsters. No offense." Sokka shoots him a look that says the exact opposite. Zuko just rubs the bridge of his nose. He's been awake for barely an hour and he already wants to go back to sleep to not have to deal with all this.

This not only meaning Aang apparently disappearing.

He'd lain awake almost the whole night, until Toph had told him to either stop tossing or be encased in rock, and so he'd chosen the former option because rock is really not comfortable if you're a normal person and not a crazy obsessive earthbender, and laying still had apparently done the trick. For two hours, because then Sokka had woken everyone to tell them that Aang's not there with them.

He hadn't been with them last night either, but he'd gone off to meditate and it was the Summer Solstice, so that was to be expected.

They'd all had breakfast and then waited around in hopes of the problem solving itself and Aang coming back from whatever adventure he was on, but to no avail. At first they'd thought about the possibility of a Fire Navy ship spotting and snatching him away, but then quickly dismissed that idea. They would have heard the fight, and soldiers would have swarmed the island looking for the Avatar's allies.

So, the Fire Nation being involved in Aang's disappearance was ruled out. That's good.

But that doesn't exactly solve their problem. And so the theories had morphed into man-eating beasts. Mainly because of Sokka, but Toph wasn't that innocent either, although the latter did it mostly to humor the former.

Said former, who is currently trying to climb into Appa's mouth.

"Get out of the bison's mouth, Sokka."

"He could be in here," comes the muffled answer. "No offense, Appa, but you're so big, maybe you accidentally swallowed Aang?"

Zuko just shakes his head while Momo chatters angrily from atop Appa's head, tiny fists raised in indignation at Sokka. He'd find the imagine hilarious if the situation weren't so dire.

It wouldn't do to come back to his uncle and swordmaster after having lost The Last Great Hope for the world. It's been only a day, and something like this already happened. Typical.

"We should search the island regardless," he says while Sokka, after being spit out by Appa, lays in a puddle of saliva with his limbs spread out like a starfish. "Especially the trees. We split up and then meet back here, and if that doesn't yield any results, we'll take Appa and search the ocean."

—

What issue is it that you seek me for, Avatar?

Aang furrows his brow. "I mean no disrespect, but I didn't seek you out. You kind of kidnapped me."

Everything has a reason, comes the answer in that oh-so-ancient voice. Or do you think you would find yourself in my company if that weren't exactly what you set out to do?

And something in him tells him that the Lion Turtle is right, that this is meant to be. Although he could have used help a lot sooner.

"Well..." he begins hesitantly, because he's got so many problems he doesn't even know where to start. "I don't really know what to choose from. There is the war, of course, and then there is that last chakra, and the thing that happened with two of my friends..." He rubs the back of his head nervously, conscious that he is standing in front of an ancient and wise creature, and he is just a mere mortal. Well, most of him. But he hasn't been doing so great in his Avatar duties lately, so he feels a bit foolish. A lot, actually.

But if the Avatar isn't qualified to seek the guidance of a Lion Turtle, then who is?

He decides to begin small.

"Well, you see, a few months ago, I visited the temple I grew up in. And I found it... destroyed. With skeletons still inside. Because of the war and all, you know." He doesn't actually know if the Lion Turtle knows of the whole thing with the Fire Nation, but it feels disrespectful to ask. "So I went into the Avatar State with two of my friends nearby and then they passed out and when they woke up, their... bending was switched? They couldn't bend their elements anymore, they could only bend the opposite. And we think it's got something to do with the spirits accessing the world through me because I'm the bridge, and they want to tell me to hurry up with the war? Which I'm doing, don't worry," he adds quickly, because you never know with spirit creatures.

"Or at least trying to do. And I know that the world is unbalanced and all that, but... I'd like to restore their original bending. Because they don't deserve to be punished for something I did." He finishes with a hard swallow because he's not entirely sure his rambling was coherent. Maybe the Lion Turtle will kick him off. He wonders if he'd be the first Avatar that ever happened to.

The creature regards him silently for a moment, and Aang does his best to stay completely still and not look as panicked as he feels.

Bending, it speaks at last, is a gift from the spirits.

"I know."

And as such, it can be taken away. You, as the Avatar, are part spirit, part human. You have the power to take bending away.

Aang gulps. "Me?" He's never even thought about that possibility. "How?"

But instead of answering, the Lion Turtle asks him a question. What are the elements, young Avatar?

"The elements?" He thinks for a second. "Well... there are four of them. They're all different and every element has its opposite. And we can bend them."

Exactly. But there is one thing they all have in common. Think.

And so he does. Mulls it over in his head, until he comes to a realization. "All benders draw on their chi to bend, no matter the element."

The lion turtle doesn't nod or give him any other form of acknowledgment, but somehow Aang knows that he's said the right answer. He puffs out his chest a little in relief. At least he can do something right.

That chi is energy. Energy inside our body. That energy can be manipulated.

Oh. That makes sense.

Nonetheless, he gasps in surprise, because wow. "How?" he asks again.

And the lion turtle lifts his other paw, touches the center of his forehead and chest with two giant claws.

Like this.

—

"Hey, Katara. Can I talk to you for a second?" Zuko asks when he catches up with her, shortly after they've all split up to search the island.

She turns her head but only gives him a look out of her peripheral vision. "We need to find Aang."

"Still," he insists.

She lifts her head, looks up at the sky, and he can see her biting her lip and trying to not show any emotion on her face. "I'd rather not," comes the clipped answer.

He closes his eyes for a second, and lets out a sigh.

"Katara-"

"Don't you think this is humiliating enough?" she bursts out, finally turning fully to him. Tears shine in her eyes, and he doesn't know if it's out of anger or frustration or sadness. Probably all three. They both have had a rough few hours. "We don't need to talk or anything, I get it, you don't..." She trails off, seemingly not able to form the words. She looks away, but before Zuko can get a word in, she continues.

"I overstepped your boundaries, and I am sorry. Really, I am." Katara crosses her arms in front of her chest; a defensive movement. "I just..." She closes her eyes, then opens them again, still not meeting his gaze. Her jaw tightens, and his eyes are drawn to the movement of her lips when she speaks. "I don't want to ruin our friendship. The Solstice just gave me so much power and I felt drunk on it, and I... we can just forget about it. Act like it never happened."

His heart sinks in his chest, because he certainly doesn't want to act like that kiss never happened. In fact, he wants to act it out over and over and over again. If she'd let him.

The first time he had wanted to kiss her was in that cave between the caldera and Shu Jing. He hadn't known then for sure that this is what he wanted, but thinking back... yes. This is what he wants.

(Maybe this is what he's always wanted.)

Katara's kiss had been a surprise, but a welcome one. A wake-up call, so to speak. But he'd pushed her away because he couldn't be sure if that is what she really wanted or if that was just the solstice power acting out. He'd regretted it the moment he'd seen the hurt in her big blue eyes, but then Sokka had called him over because Toph was allegedly cheating at Pai Sho (which, in her case, means definitely cheating) and Zuko couldn't afford to arouse suspicion. Not with her older brother and an earthbender who can sense everything around. And he'd wanted to give Katara some space to think.

He knows he didn't act ideally but damnit, he has feelings, too. And those feelings had done their best to keep him awake for most of the night, mulling it over in his head.

He's the Fire Lord's son. She's a princess of the South. Rank wouldn't be a problem, but that doesn't mean there wouldn't be any other problems. And that is after the war. Maybe they won't even survive until then.

Which is why exactly he'd resolved to go talk to her, because he couldn't let her walk around with that guarded expression that meant that the ice walls had come up again, refusing to meet his eyes. He can't bear it.

He wants her. And he knows it.

But what does she want? He still can't be sure about that.

"Do you want to? Act like it never happened?"

Katara is still not making eye contact with him, opting instead to look at the trees. She takes a moment to answer, and for a second, he thinks she won't. Then she shrugs. "I don't know."

Well, that's not the no he'd hoped for, but it's also not a yes either.

She turns and begins to walk away, her arms still crossed protectively across her chest. And damnit, Zuko is tired. Tired of all this drama and of repressing his feelings, and he needs her to know. If she doesn't reciprocate, if she truly doesn't feel the same way, then fine. They've both made missteps and it won't destroy their friendship (he hopes, he prays). He'll keep his distance and respect her boundaries, but he won't have to live with all these unsaid words anymore. It will be out in the world and he'll be vulnerable, but it's Katara. He doesn't have to fear anything from her.

And, after all, he's never been good at not speaking the things on his mind.

"I don't."

She halts abruptly. After a second, she turns her head to look him in the eye. "What?"

And there is a hopeful glimmer in the blue that gives him strength to speak his next words. "I don't want to forget about it." He steps up to her, and she turns so that she is now fully facing him, her arms coming loose from their knot in front of her chest and hanging at her sides.

"In fact," he says, and steps even closer, crossing the boundary from friend to something more. She looks up at him with wide eyes, and although they are uncertain, they are not uncomfortable. She makes no move to stop the hand coming up to cradle her cheek. "I'd like to do it again. If that's alright with you."

Her breath ghosts over his lips as he leans in closer. They stand like that for a moment, both breathing hard. His heart pounds in his chest and he feels a little dizzy, but the good kind of dizzy. Definitely the good kind. And he hopes that she'll say yes, prays that she'll say yes, because he doesn't know what he'd do if she wouldn't, how much it would hurt to not -

She nods.

He wastes no time and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. It's sweet, tender, and the absolute best sensation he has ever felt.

She smiles against his lips.

—

He understands now.

Everything is connected.

Time is an illusion. Death is an illusion. Separation is an illusion.

They are all one. They are all the same. Different, but the same. Spaced out, but connected.

Aang opens his eyes.

"Energybending," he whispers, the sound loud in the sudden stillness of their surroundings. Faintly, he registers sunlight illuminating the face of the Lion Turtle instead of moonlight, and he feels a little tired, but those thoughts are pushed back in favor of paying attention to others.

And he doesn't know how he knows, but he just does.

Energybending, he hears the Lion Turtle echo in his head. It is a very old, and very ancient practice. Lost to most of humankind.

Pictures of figures in bending positions he has never seen before flash in his mind. Wan Shi Tong's library. The scroll. That was what it was about.

"Did the Air Nomads know?"

Their spiritual nature allowed them to do things no other bender could. Only those enlightened enough could manipulate one's energy.

"And with that I could help my friends?"

You can. But remember: energy can be corrupted. It is important to have a firm mind, and to establish a pathway from the heart to the mind. Only then can you bend one's chi.

Aang frowns in spite of the good news. "But wouldn't that mean upsetting the spirits? They did this. If I would just undo it..."

There is a reason I am here today, Avatar.

Oh.

"So I guess it's okay?"

You will know.

Well. Good enough for him.

"So, about those other things..." He nervously fidgets with his fingers and glances around. "I have to end the war. And that means deposing of the Fire Lord." He waits for a word of acknowledgment, but continues when he gets none. "But... what should I do with him? I can't... I can't kill him."

And why is that?

"Because the Air Nomad's said that you should never kill anyone. Ever. No matter the circumstances. And I am the last Air Nomad, so I have to make sure their customs stay alive. I can't... I can't break them." He thinks back to a sunset spent on a roof with a Water Tribe warrior, and suppresses a wince.

The true mind can weather all illusions without being lost, comes the answer. The true heart does not stay pure, but remains in the light. Separation is an illusion. We all are one. You are one.

And Aang gets the feeling that these words are important, life-changing even, but he just can't... decipher them. Not quite. He commits them to memory regardless.

"Uhm... okay," he says, not wanting to sound ungrateful. He bows. "Thank you, great Lion Turtle."

I thank you, young Avatar. For you will restore the world to its long-lost balance.

"So does that mean you already know I'll win?" he asks hopefully.

Time is an illusion, is the only answer he gets.

So... yes? He doesn't dare voice it out loud, though, suddenly getting the feeling that that might not be the best idea.

We must part ways now, Avatar. Our time has come to an end.

Another touch to the forehead, and the Avatar's eyes fall closed.

—

He wakes on a sandy beach this time. Aang sits up and spits sand out of his mouth. No Lion Turtle in sight. But this does look like the island he and the others set up camp in.

Voices coming from farther away, and then a shout sounding awfully like his name.

"Aang!" Sokka rushes to him with Toph in tow. "Where on earth have you been? We've checked the whole island! Did a giant creature swallow you by any chance?"

"You just... appeared here," Toph says with a confused look on her face. "You weren't there and then you were and..." She trails off, not finding words.

Aang looks back at the ocean, all traces of the Lion Turtle gone. So he can't have been asleep (or unconscious, because that sounds... slightly better) that long.

"Well," he says as he turns back to his friends. "There was indeed a giant creature involved..."

—

"You mean a giant turtle taught you how to bend chi?" Sokka asks.

"It's a Lion Turtle," Aang corrects. "Ancient creatures with much power. I'm not sure if they belong to the Spirit World or to our world." He rubs his chin in thought, his brow creased in concentration.

"Maybe they belong to both," Katara suggests from where she sits opposite him in the little circle they'd formed on the grass. Sweat beads roll down her forehead from the oppressing heat a summer in the Fire Nation brings. "They're something in between."

He nods. "Yeah, maybe. The monks told me about them when I was little but it was nothing concrete... I think my past lives recognized it somehow."

"Okay, cool, but can we maybe come back to the whole energybending thing?" Sokka interjects.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Toph asks, digging her fingers into the dirt. Aang suppresses a wince just thinking about how hard it will be to get all that dirt out from under her fingernails. "That you can restore Sparky's and Sugar Queen's original bending?"

Katara and Zuko give each other a look from where they're sitting beside each other, knees touching - and when did that happen? -, and there is something hopeful in that shared gaze, something excited. But also something concerned.

He doesn't want to get their hopes up. He knows they've gotten used to bending their opposite element, are quite content with it in fact, but he still feels guilty. And he doesn't know if what the Lion Turtle has shown him will actually work - no, correction: he doesn't know if he can do it. The Lion Turtle isn't the problem here, Aang is.

It's an ancient practice, something only the most enlightened of monks could do centuries ago. It took them a lifetime to master it. And he is supposed to do it after just a few hours? Granted, he is the Avatar, but still.

"Maybe," he says at last, because he doesn't want to cause his friends even more pain. "I'm not sure. I mean, I've never tried it... obviously." His hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, and he has never missed his bald head more than he does right now in this stifling heat. At least there is a storm coming. He can feel it.

"But you could try it, right?" Sokka asks. "Like right now?"

Aang looks at Zuko and Katara for confirmation. They both share another glance, hold a silent conversation with their eyes, then turn back and nod. "Okay," Zuko agrees. "I don't see why not."

While Toph, Sokka and Zuko move away to give him more space, he settles in front of Katara with crossed legs. She looks at him with big eyes and he's not sure what to make of the depths swirling in the blue. There is hope in there and suspicion and something like... dread?

He doesn't comment on it, instructing her to sit straighter instead. "No guarantee"," he reminds her before he takes a deep breath, places one of his hands on her forehead, the other directly over her heart, and closes his eyes.

He thinks back to what the Lion Turtle had taught him, shown him, and blends out his surroundings, focusing only on Katara and her heartbeat. He breathes deep and evenly, like he would in meditation; feels her soft skin under his fingertips. He thinks of energy and bending and pathways and separation is an illusion.

We all are one.

Separation is an illusion.

We all are one.

Separation is an illusion.

Pathways.

A million little pathways, a network, consisting of veins and water and blood. Her heartbeat, slow, if a little unsteady. Her heart, contracting and pumping.

He reaches deeper, feels for more.

And there it is.

Swirling pools of energies along the base of her spine, then her back, then her throat, her forehead, the top of her head.

Chakras.

He focuses on them, feels them moving, feels the chi moving through her whole body. Along her arms, her shoulders, her legs, her chest.

He breathes deep, and feels their essence.

Fire. Hot liquid gold pumping through her veins; a bright flame in the center of her stomach. Red and gold and orange all combined; sunlight filtering through leaves and warming the stone on a hot summer day, a fire dancing in a hearth and spending light.

And so he thinks of water. The ocean, blue and black and green and deep with strong currents and unreachable depths. An iceberg, tall and proud and unconquerable. A tundra, full of snow and ice and cold whipping winds. A pond, still and nurturing. A river, ever-flowing and full of life. Tui and La, circling each other for eternity.

Slowly, but steadily, the swirling pools of energy turn from red and gold to blue and white, from hot to cold, from liquid gold to liquid silver. Slow, graceful movements; the power of a wave crashing on the shore; the strength of the tide. Push and pull, Tui and La.

Aang opens his eyes, takes his hands away. He doesn't know how much time has passed, only knows that he feels a deep calmness, something akin to inner peace. His heart beats slow and steady.

Opposite him, Katara also opens her eyes, a little dazed over. She looks at him for a second without saying anything. Then: "And?"

He shrugs. "I think I did it... I don't know. Try it."

And she does, albeit a little hesitantly. Takes the waterskin Zuko holds out to her. Uncorks it, positions her hand in front of the opening.

And the water obeys her command.

Chapter 23: Twenty-Two

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Despite Aang's new discoveries, they waste no time and fly to the island Iroh had wanted them to visit. The mood on Appa's saddle is excited, hopeful, and as Zuko leans his head back to feel the sun, really feel the sun, on his skin, he thinks he's never been more happy and content as he is in that very moment. The heat is oppressing and stifling but he revels in it, feels more powerful than ever. This is his element.

Aang did it.

Maybe they'll really win the war, he thinks as he meets Katara's eyes across from him. Maybe there really is hope.

Turns out, Iroh had wanted to show them an old civilization. The ancient and abandoned city belonged to the Sun Warrior's, as his mind helpfully supplies. He'd briefly read about them when he'd been younger and still had access to hundreds of books. The Sun Warrior's are said to be the first firebenders, the ones who'd learned from dragons. His uncle must have come here to slay the last dragon, although Zuko can't fathom why he wants to show them the city.

After dodging a handful of booby traps and splitting up to get a better look at this place, he finds himself standing in front of a gilded door with the Avatar at his side, staff clutched firmly in his hand.

He studies the buildings, the pointed rooftops and sharp edges. It's unmistakenly Fire Nation, but there is something else in there too that he doesn't recognize, some influence that makes the buildings look vaguely alien to him. It's the same feeling as when he's searching for a word that lies just at the back of his tongue.

Aang tries to force the doors to open, but they don't budge an inch. "Wait," Zuko says, spotting something colorful at the top of the doors. He looks behind him and - yes, there it is. A tower, or better, a celestial locking system with the same red gemstone at the top. He looks at the ground, and studies the carvings there.

"It's a celestial calendar."

Aang pulls away from the doors. "Huh. Guess we know now why Iroh wanted us to come on the Summer Solstice. Damnit, we can't wait another year, we should have-"

"We can still get in," Zuko interrupts. He kneels down, pulls one of the swords from his back, and angles the blade so that the sunlight reflects off of it. After a few moments of carefully adjusting the angle, the sunlight finally hits in the right spot.

And the doors open.

He stands and sheathes his sword. "You know what, Zuko?" Aang says. "You're actually pretty smart." And before Zuko can tell him how much of a backhanded compliment that is, he is already inside the now open chamber.

The air is cooler here, and dust mites float in the air. They're probably the first people in centuries to enter this room. Statues line the walls, people clad in odd garments, depicting even stranger positions. He's never seen anything like it.

Suddenly, he has an arm full of airbender. "I want you to dance with me!"

"Excuse me?"

"Dance with me!" Aang repeats. "Just do what the figures there do and I'll do the same on the other side."

He understands. A code. The statues depict a code.

He feels a little silly doing the movements. They're not like fire and they're also not like water. They're something in between, something that he knows but also something that he doesn't know. It's that odd feeling again; the sensation that he knows but also doesn't.

When they finish their dance, a pedestal rises from the floor.

He steps near it, reaches his fingers out to the golden... stone? Egg? It's like something is drawing him in, commanding him to touch it. "Uhm," comes a wary voice from beside him, "I'm not sure you should do that."

He turns his head. "Why?"

Aang shrugs. "I don't know. But maybe it's a trap?"

Zuko frowns. "But we earned it, didn't we? We did that little dance."

"Yeah, but still."

He touches the egg regardless. As it turns out, it is, indeed, a trap.

"Don't fucking say it."

"...told you so."

—

As it turns out, the abandoned city is, in fact, not abandoned. Just moments after Sokka gets caught in a net, now swinging wildly in the air, and Toph announces that she can feel people moving, said people surround them from all sides, some in bending positions, some with long swords.

Katara suppresses the urge to uncork the waterskins she'd taken back from Zuko and holds up her hands in the hope that the gesture seems non-threatening. "We don't want any trouble," she says quickly, doing her best to keep an eye on the strangely-clad figures. They look like Fire Nationals but they also... don't. They remind her a bit of the swamp people, in fact.

She presses her back against Toph while Sokka overhead works on freeing himself from the net. "We were sent here by General Iroh." Too late does she realize that the title 'general' will probably set these people even more on edge. "The Dragon of the West," she quickly adds. Only that that implies nothing good for dragons, and based on all the murals and dragon statues, these people likely worship the creatures.

She wants to slap herself, but instead only bites her tongue. "Sweetness, better let me do the talking," she hears Toph mutter behind her.

But to her surprise, the people holding the swords actually lower their weapons. The rest stay alert, but they don't look as aggressive as they did before. "Sent here why?" one of them asks, stepping forward. The top half of his face is painted a dark orange and white, and his big headdress looks golden in the sunlight. She guesses it's something like a crown signaling the highest position among these people; a chief perhaps.

"He said we could learn a lot here," Toph answers.

"And who are 'we'?"

"Well, that guy overhead there is Sokka, and that is Katara and I am Toph. Beifong. And two of our friends are somewhere in this city."

"We don't wish to do you any harm," Katara adds. "We simply wanted to see the city to figure out what Iroh meant. We can leave if you want."

The man shares a few looks with the men surrounding him, and then turns his gaze back to her. "No need. I think I know what Iroh meant."

"Chief!" a voice calls from far away, the sound carrying unusually well between the stone buildings. "There are two thieves who tried to steal the sunstone!"

She wants to slap her forehead as the chief gives her a suspicious glare.

"And that's the reason why you never leave two boys alone," Toph mutters, voicing Katara's thoughts perfectly.

—

After some persuasion, they manage to convince the angry Sun Warriors that no, they had no intention to steal the sunstone, didn't even know what it was until one of the warriors mentioned it, and that yes, it really was an accident.

Zuko also tells the story of his uncle and how he had sent them here, only to get another story in return from the chief of the tribe. Turns out, Iroh managed to fool a whole nation. Crafty old dragon.

The tribe is still suspicious of them though, and locks them all up in a room underground until the tribe has reached a decision regarding what to do with the intruders. Zuko hopes they won't be thrown into the nearest volcano or roasted alive, but keeps the thoughts to himself as to not freak out the others. Sokka is already doing a good enough job at that. At least they get bedrolls and enough food and water, and the room is cool and so much more manageable than the heat outside. He sits next to Katara and holds her hand, lets his thumb stroke soothing patterns on her skin. He wants to kiss her, but they'd both silently agreed to keep... whatever this is between them a secret for a bit longer. Just until they figured out where they stand.

If the others notice them sitting closer together than is probably appropriate for mere friends, they don't say anything, although he hears Toph snicker once.

The next morning, he rises with the sun - and how he'd missed getting up with Agni -, and turns on his side, studying Katara from where she lays next to him. He reaches a hand out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, softly stroking the skin. He could do this all day and would not tire of it.

The motion wakes her, and blue eyes flutter open to meet his golden ones. "Hey," she greets with a smile. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are only half-open, but she looks mesmerizing nonetheless. He feels his stomach flutter.

"Hey." And he leans in to give her a soft peck on the lips, not daring to do anything more with the others in the room.

Then the door opens.

The chief enters, followed by two other warriors. He announces that they've reached the decision to let the masters judge the firebenders of the group.

"Masters?" Aang asks. "What masters?"

"You'll see."

And so Aang and Zuko are escorted out, while the rest stays locked up until said masters have reached a decision. However that will look like. The sun shines high overhead as they're led to a temple with a hundred steps. It houses a fire, but not like anything Zuko's ever seen before. The High Temple in the caldera had a fire just as big, but nothing like this. It's red and gold and yellow and green and purple and blue. He almost doesn't believe his own eyes.

"When you present yourself to the masters," the chief begins in a serious and solemn voice, standing in front of the strange fire, "they will examine you. They'll read your heart, your soul, and" - and he gives Zuko a sharp look -, "your ancestry." Zuko swallows hard. "If they deem you worthy, they'll teach you. If they don't, you'll be destroyed on the spot." Out of the corner of his good eye, he sees Aang giving him a worried look. He keeps staring straight ahead. That won't happen. It can't happen. It just simply can't.

"You must bring them a piece of the Eternal Flame to show your commitment to the way of the sun," the chief continues. "This fire is the very first one." He gestures to the colorful flames behind him. "It was given to man by the dragons, and we have kept it going for thousands of years."

Beside him, Aang's mouth drops open in awe. Zuko has to bite his tongue to keep himself from doing the same. The Eternal Flame. The very first fire, right before him. Dragonfire. He bets Azula would be jealous could she see him right now.

The chief moves into action, doing strange circular movements with his arms that Zuko suspects are more for show than anything, before splitting the fire in his hands in two and holding it out to them. He takes it, if a bit hesitantly, because it's been only a day since he's gotten his firebending back. The flame feels good in his palm, warm but not hot, gentle and not biting. Like a little heartbeat. He watches the colors dance like little wings in the sun.

"You must maintain a constant heat," the Sun Chief cautions as soon as Aang has received his flame. "Make it too small, and the fire will go out. Make it too big, and you will lose control." He points off to the side, and when Zuko turns his head, he sees two big rocks in the distance, sharp as swords and directly opposite each other in a perfect mirroring. "You will take your flames there, and the masters will await you." He meets their gazes, holds each with bright golden eyes for a moment. "May the sun be with you."

And so they begin their track up the mountain. The heat is stifling and both he and Aang are drenched in sweat as they climb, each mindful of their fire. Should it go out, this whole endeavor was for nothing.

(He thinks of water and blue eyes and brown skin to keep himself going.)

"Uhm, Zuko?" Aang asks beside him. "The dragons are dead, right?"

"As far as I know, yes," he answers without looking at him. Then he turns his head. "Why?"

Aang shrugs. "Just curious." But they both know what he means by that, and Zuko finds himself questioning more and more of his uncle's story. They'd been told by the Sun Warriors that Iroh came here to slay the last dragon and left with no dragon blood on his hands and the existence of a civilization kept as his secret. So if no dragon was slain, then… where is he?

After a few hours of climbing with the sun beating down on them mercilessly, they reach the top of the mountain, both panting and sweating profusely. Aang's fire has gotten smaller and smaller, and Zuko's a little concerned that he won't be able to maintain it for much longer. He silently hopes that this whole thing will be over soon.

Somehow, the Sun Warrior's are already awaiting them (is there a shortcut?), standing a good few yards before a staircase that looks to have hundreds of steps, leading up to a bridge connecting the two big rocks he'd seen from the temple with each other. He inwardly groans at having to climb that.

The Sun Chief walks up to them. "Facing the judgment of the masters will be very dangerous for you," he explains. He looks sharply at Zuko. "Your ancestors are directly responsible for the dragon's slaughter, and have destroyed the balance of the world. They might not be so happy to see you."

"I know I wouldn't," another warrior mutters in a tone that is clearly intended to be heard by everyone present. Zuko swallows hard, and does his best not to let his fear show on his face.

"And you," the chief continues, looking to Aang, "have vanished for a hundred years and allowed the Fire Nation to wreak havoc on the rest of the world. All this is your burden, too." Aang bites his lip, the redness on his face stemming not only from the heat and exercise.

The chief walks forward then, takes a tiny bit of their flames, and splits it into two before giving it to the two warriors positioned at his side. They begin to make a wide circle of fire, spinning it with their arms, red and blue and green all united. Drums begin to play, some warriors kneel down while others stay standing, doing strange motions with their fire that remind Zuko a bit of the festivals in Caldera City.

"We could turn back now, you know," Aang mutters beside him. "We've already learned a lot, I think."

"No." Zuko shakes his head. "We've come this far. Besides," he adds with a small smirk, "whoever these masters are, I think we can take them." But both he and Aang know that maybe there is more to the dragon story. That maybe they'll see something they never thought possible.

But shaking in fear won't get them anywhere. And so he nods at Aang firmly before stepping forward as the Sun Chief motions for them to climb the stairs. Aang is just a step behind him and Zuko's legs feel like jelly. Truthfully, he isn't sure he could fight all that well after all this exertion. He'll just have to hope the masters deem them worthy.

After another felt eternity, they reach the top and, a little unsure, position themselves back to back so that both caves remain in their sight. "Those who wish to meet the masters Ran and Shaw will now present their fire," calls a voice all the way from the bottom up to them, and both he and Aang hunch their backs a little and stretch out their arms to offer up the colorful fire burning in their palms.

"Sound the call!"

Someone blows a horn, the sound being reflected and amplified by the stone. Zuko has to force himself not to cover his ears instinctively. The drums being played seem to get louder and wild chanting sounds arise, intermingling with the ancient melody created by human's and nature alike, flooding his senses and overwhelmig them with their powerful presence. He feels like he is about to be thrown into a volcano for some ritual.

(Maybe his fate won't be any better than that.)

"Uh, Zuko?" comes a hesitant voice from behind him. He turns his head a little, not taking his eyes off the caves that are starting to shake and rumble. The masters are coming.

"I lost the fire."

He does look at Aang now. "You what?" And indeed, the Avatar's hands are empty.

"It was an accident! When those caves started shaking-"

"Go get some from below! You're an airbender, you'll make it in time."

"Can't I just take it from you?"

"The flame's too small, it'll go out."

"Oh come on, it's just a tiny bit-"

"I said no."

"Zuko, come on. Stop being so grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy!"

Aang starts to make grabby hands towards the fire while Zuko does his best to keep it from him. It's bad enough that only one of them has a piece of the eternal flame, and if they both face the masters empty-handed... well, he doesn't want to sound afraid or anything, but he... kind of is.

If the Sun Warrior's notice any of their antics from down below, they don't say anything.

(They're probably laughing their asses off and preparing to see them get roasted.)

(They shouldn't waste this much time.)

"Okay, fine," he concedes after a minute of fighting, a minute too long. "I'll give you my fire. Hold your hands out."

"But you said-"

"Take it, all of it."

"But then you won't have one?"

"Better me than you."

"But-"

"Just take it!"

The Avatar is more important than any of them. If that means offering himself up to whoever these masters are, then... well. At least he did his duty to the world - protecting the Avatar.

(He doesn't think about how just a few years ago, when he still dreamt of a world draped in shades of red and gold, he would have gladly seen the Avatar's charred corpse.)

Aang reaches out, attempts to take the flames, and then the whole platform they're standing on shakes and -

The fire goes out.

No more eternal flame.

Zuko can feel his eyes widen and Aang gives him a sheepish look, a look that is way too calm for the catastrophe that is about to occur. "Uh oh." Yeah. Uh oh is an understatement.

They're both going to die.

And just at that moment, the caves shake for the final time, stone and rubble separating itself from the rock and tumbling down, and then -

Then the masters show themselves.

Two dragons.

Two dragons come out of the caves, flying towards them.

(Ran and Shaw.)

His first instinct is to put a hand on Aang's shoulder so he can push him to the side should the dragons attack, turning to keep an eye on the other side.

But they don't. Instead, they fly around them in eternal circles, massive wings and scales shining blue and red in the sunlight.

Dragons. How is that possible?

(You know how it's possible.)

Did Iroh know?

(Of course Iroh knew.)

For a moment, he can't keep himself from staring. He dreamt of seeing dragons as a child, but he never thought -

"You still think we can take them?"

"Ssh. I never said that."

And the chanting down below gets louder, the drums more insistent, the spinning circles faster.

"I think they want us to dance with them."

"What?"

"That dance we did before you grabbed the sunstone? I think they want us to do that."

And he should feel silly for dancing, something he's never done before because Sozin outlawed it, but he doesn't. Instead, he shifts with vigor and tries to make his movements look graceful, and the dragons join in, so much more bigger and powerful than both of them can comprehend. There's something ancient to the moves, something strange but strong, so strong.

And for a moment, he forgets about everything; the world falls away and he just is. Here in this moment with fire in his heart and dragons by his side, he just is.

When they shift out of the final stance, both in perfect harmony, they position themselves back to back again. The dragons land a few feet in front of them, giving them enough space but at the same time being too close, entwining their tails, blue and red (and he feels something tuck at his heartstrings at the sight), and then they open their massive mouths and -

Fire.

(A father's hand -)

His first instinct is to jump in front of the Avatar -

(- cradling his son's cheek -)

- the Avatar must be protected at all costs -

(- gently, oh so gently -)

- and he is ready to die, ready to die to protect the last hope for the world -

(- and setting it on fire.)

- but there is no heat. The fire doesn't burn them.

And there are colors. Colors he's never seen before, couldn't even imagine, and they're bright and brilliant and everything he's ever wanted. He stares at the flames, and they stare back, because he is fire and fire is him and -

He understands.

Fire is life.

Notes:

This one's also on the shorter side but contains one of my favourite scenes! I got so emotional writing that last scene; it was really important for both Aang and Zuko.

Chapter 24: Twenty-Three

Notes:

Notice anything?

The rating changed ;)

So please be mindful of that

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Fire flows through his veins as liquid gold, liquid courage, liquid strength.

Fire is power.

Aang is beside him, doing the same movements with the same golden fire and if he looks hard enough, he can actually see shades of purple and red and green and blue in the dancing flames.

Fire is life.

The sun shines down on them, lends them its strength, enhances their power, encourages them to wield flame like a shield, like a weapon, like something precious.

Fire is alive.

But fire isn't only power, it is also passion and life and love.

It breathes, it grows.

There is a dark side to everything; fire can kill, fire can burn, fire can destroy. But it can also give life, nurture, heal.

He understands that now.

He feels like his whole life he's been deluded into thinking fire was only for someone angry, for someone out for revenge and conquest.

But fire is so much more than that.

Zuko and Aang glide into the final stance, hold, and then turn to bow to each other in perfect synchrony. It feels good to be able to train the Avatar in Zuko's native element again. The comet is approaching and Aang will need his firebending the most. Luckily for him, his flames seem to have become hotter and more powerful after their encounter with the dragons. The kid has always been a talented firebender, but now he's even better.

Zuko smiles. Things are looking up.

They might really have a chance.

(He'd been a little anxious when he'd gotten his fire back. He'd been happy to bend his native element again, his one true element, but fire was destruction and death, and not having to bear that burden had been a relief.

Now he knows that fire is so much more than that.

He looks up at the sun, at Agni, and smiles.)

—

She wakes up to a weight on her shoulder, which she quickly realizes is a hand. Katara groans and buries her head in her pillow.

A chuckle. "Come on. It's worth it, I promise."

"Go away."

"Katara."

She sits up. "I thought you were a firebender again." She glances out the window. "The moon's up. You should be asleep."

Zuko arches an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be wide awake then?"

She groans in annoyance. "Oh, shut up."

Another chuckle. "Come on. It's really, really worth it. I promise you that."

She eyes him for a moment, but the lines on his face are relaxed, an amused gleam in his eyes that seem to rival the sun. She sighs and closes her eyes for a second, before locking gazes again. "Fine. But don't make me regret this or I'll water whip you into oblivion."

"I don't doubt that for a second."

They make their way through a forest outside of the Sun Warrior city and climb a hillside, only to go down on the other side. Katara wonders what on earth has possessed him to lead her here in the middle of the night, but she trusts him. It's Zuko. How could she not?

At last, he stops them abruptly. A question forms on her tongue, almost makes its way out of her mouth, but then he lights a fire in his hand and she sees why.

There is a giant hole right in front of them.

She leans a little forward to take a look and wow, it's deep. She can't even see the ground from here, only endless darkness. She turns to Zuko and raises an eyebrow. "You brought me here to see a giant hole in the ground?"

He shakes his head. "No," he replies, "it's much more than that."

And then, to her absolute horror, he crouches down and begins climbing down. "Uhm," she cautions, "I know you're a capable climber and all that, but isn't this a little... I don't know - reckless? Stupid? Dangerous?"

"It is if you don't know the way," comes the reply, and she can only see one half of his face, the scarred side. If she didn't know him so well, she'd be almost scared at the sight. "But I do. I found this when I went exploring today." He offers up a hand to her. "Just trust me, okay? I won't let you fall."

Katara eyes the hand reaching out for her for a second before she takes it. Maybe it's stupid, maybe it's reckless, maybe it's dangerous, but she does it anyway. Ever since arriving at the Sun Warrior's city a few days ago she's felt cooped up. She needs the excitement.

Zuko helps her down, and then sends out fireballs in different directions. The darkness that had threatened to consume them lifts and reveals wooden posts strategically placed in between rocks to hold them in place.

"That's smart," she praises and gets a smile in return that makes her heart flutter. How had she been able to hate that expression on his face so many months ago?

But the fire not only illuminates their posts, but so much more. They're in a cave of some sort with an open ceiling that allows her to see the clouds slowly uncovering the moon, allowing it to spill its silvery light onto the vine-covered walls and the many plants, standing lush and green and proud. But it's what is in the middle that truly takes her breath away:

A giant pool full of turquoise water. It's not very deep; she guesses it would reach up to her shoulders, but it's beautiful nonetheless in the flickering orange light of the fire and the steady silvery light of the moon.

(Fire and water, water and fire. The sun and the moon, the moon and the sun.)

Arms come up around her from behind, encircling her, entwining their fingers. Zuko rests his head on her shoulder, his chest warm against her back.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

A soft kiss on her cheek, warm breath on her skin.

"It is." She nods, not able to take her eyes off the beauty in front of her, mouth hanging open in awe.

"I wanted to share that with you," he mutters against her neck, placing gentle kisses there.

Her stomach flutters and her heart skips a beat.

"These caves are called cenotes," he explains. "They form when a part of the ground collapses and groundwater gets exposed. They also fill up due to rain." Another kiss to her throat. "They're pretty common in the Fire Nation."

"They're absolutely stunning."

In response, she gets a happy hum against her throat. She can feel the vibrations in his chest due to their close proximity, and a pleasant shiver runs down her spine.

She turns in his arms, locks her hands behind his neck. "I didn't know you could be so romantic," she mutters against his lips before leaning in to kiss him. He lets his tongue wander over hers while his thumb strokes her hip before leaning back. "Eh, I try."

She quickly strips down to her bindings before diving into the pool. The water is cool and refreshing and for a moment, she just watches the moonlight filter through the surface. It's a beautiful sight, and she thinks she's rarely ever been this happy. A nearby splash alerts her to another welcome presence.

She surfaces.

Zuko stands just a few feet away, the water rising up to his chest, looking at her like she's some sort of goddess. His eyes shine with admiration, and she's never felt more powerful and worshipped under his gaze. She quickly swims over to him.

"Thank you," she says, locking her arms behind his neck again while his hands settle on her hips, "for showing me this."

"Only the best for you." He accentuates his response with a kiss.

She's not sure how much time they spend here, swimming and diving and kissing and bending. Katara only knows that she's rarely felt more at peace, more in tune with her element. She had accepted fire as her element, and it's hard to forget the power, the sheer high she'd felt on the Summer Solstice, but this, this, is her true element, the element she is supposed to bend, the liquid silver that is supposed to flow through her veins, and nothing could ever beat the push and pull of the moon shining brightly overhead.

(She tries to push the thoughts about bloodbending away, how she could so easily manipulate every living thing in this cave. It had been a relief to be rid of that particular power, but now she has it back and she's not sure how she feels about that, how she is supposed to feel about that.)

(She wonders if Zuko has the same conflict.)

"Hey, Zuko?" she asks, tucked away in some corner of the pool with his arms around her and her back to his chest. She feels rather than hears his rumbling response, being tired out from their nightly trip.

"Hm?"

"Do you like that you have your fire back?"

A beat. Two. Then:

"What do you mean?"

She swallows. "Do you like being able to bend fire again?" she repeats.

"Of course," comes the reply. "It's my native element. Without it, I never would have been able to meet the dragons."

"Yeah, but do you like it?"

He doesn't answer for a moment, contemplating the question. Then he tries to turn her around on his lap but she refuses, finding this conversation to be held easier when she can't see his face and he can't see hers.

"I do," he replies, complying with her wishes. "I wasn't so sure at first but I do. The dragons taught me what fire really means, and that helped."

She breathes a sigh of relief. So she's not the only one who had doubts.

"Why?" he asks. "Is this about what I think it is about?"

She doesn't answer him, only keeps staring straight ahead. She's not sure how to put her thoughts into words, if she even should.

(But it's him, isn't it? She's always been able to tell him everything.)

"Katara?" He tries to turn her around again and this time she lets him. She meets his gaze a little reluctantly, but when she does, it's full of love.

"Hey," he says, the words nothing more than a soft whisper in the night. His hand comes up to cradle her cheek, to rub a thumb in soothing patterns over the skin. "Bending isn't inherently evil. Nothing is. It's what you make of it what counts."

She searches his eyes. "And if I am?" She doesn't dare raise her voice above a whisper.

"You're not," he assures, leaning his forehead against hers. "You're brave and you're kind and you heal people. Spirits, you healed people of the Fire Nation even though they're at war with your people. You're not perfect, but that's what makes you who you are. And I wouldn't change a thing about it, I-"

He cuts himself off. She wonders what he was about to say, but before she can ask, he continues. "You figured out how to heal with fire, the element of destruction. If that doesn't show that you could never be evil, then I don't know what to say."

And his words dull the pain, the doubt, the anxiety. They don't make it go away completely, but she doubts anything could, and so she only smiles and kisses him for his thoughtful answer. She thinks she could get lost in the sensation of his lips pressed against hers, his skin on hers. She thinks she might-

She cuts that thought off.

Too soon.

—

"The North Pole, Katara? Are you serious?" Sokka crosses his arms over his chest, looking disbelieving at his sister. She gives him a look from where she sits opposite him on the stone of the courtyard of one of the many buildings in the ancient city.

"Yes, Sokka, I am serious."

"Well then, did you somehow forget the part where they wanted to use Aang to destroy the Fire Nation?" Beside him, Aang winces and Zuko sitting beside Katara doesn't look much better.

"No I didn't," comes the heated reply. "But maybe we can convince them that total annihilation isn't the way to go. That we'll only need to defeat the Fire Lord-"

"And Azula," Zuko interjects.

"And Azula," she agrees with a nod to him. "And when we've done that, the rest of the Fire Nation will follow."

Toph raises an eyebrow. "That's the argument you're gonna make? Really?"

Katara shoots her a confused look. "I don't-"

But Sokka cuts her off. "Toph's right. There's no way the rest of the Fire Nation will just surrender. They believed for a hundred years that they're superior; they're not just gonna give that up. What if the military decides to just ignore what anyone else says and continue with the war?"

Now it's Katara's turn to arche an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't of that opinion? That's why you didn't bring Aang to the South Pole when you found him?"

"Oh, I'm not. But the North Pole is. And they're gonna make that exact argument when you arrive there."

"Then we'll convince them otherwise."

Sokka throws hands. "You know how they are up there! They're more stubborn than some earthbenders! They won't just give that attitude up. As soon as they have Aang, they'll toss you aside and do whatever the hell they want. Especially if they know the Fire Nation's coming for them on the day of the comet."

"But we need the help, Sokka," Katara insists. "It's a long way to the South and North Pole, and most of it is ocean. There are no better sailors than waterbenders. We need them; they'd give us a huge advantage."

He rubs his chin. She's right, no other nation can hold a candle to how the Water Tribes know the seas. Except maybe the Fire Nation, but that's the problem.

"But that's why we have Gramps and Swordstroke gathering allies," Toph argues. "So we'll have enough manpower to kick the Fire Nation's ass."

"We can't take any chances," Katara replies with a shake of her head that of course goes unnoticed by Toph. "This is too big a risk."

"You saying you don't trust Gramps?"

"Of course not!" She shoots an apologetic look at Zuko, who only shrugs good-naturedly. "I do, but like I said, this is too big of a risk. If we fail, then we're dead. Then the whole world is doomed."

She has a point. They need every man they can get, every hand that is willing to help, to fight, to kill. And healers would be of great advantage. If the Water Tribes would meet the airships and regular warships halfway on the ocean and the allies gathered by Iroh and Piandao, having previously sneaked onto the ships, would attack at that exact moment... they really could have a chance. But...

"And what if they don't listen to you?" Sokka questions. "You were given the task of finding me, right? And then you disappeared. They're not gonna look favorably on that, let alone on me. I committed treason in not bringing the Avatar to the tribe. We're both pretty much screwed in that regard."

"I was attacked by a Sea Serpent," Katara counters, "and then stranded in the Earth Kingdom, barely alive. There's no way I could have made my way back to either of the poles. Staying with you guys was the only option I had."

"True, but they won't care about that. They'll only see that you didn't bring the Avatar back immediately and that's that. You know how Hahn is."

"Yes, but maybe Arnook-"

"Arnook isn't chief anymore," he interrupts with a stern look. "Hahn is. And that's what matters."

"I trained the Avatar," she argues. "We won't have to tell him about the whole element switch thing. But Aang is trained now and actually ready to fight the Fire Lord, thanks to us."

Aang looks a little sheepish at that, rubbing the back of his head.

"Which leads us back to 'let's kill the entire Fire Nation'."

"They won't-" Katara cuts herself off, sighs, and then closes her eyes for a second. When she opens them, she looks determined, although less stern. "Look. We only have one shot at this. Ask the North Pole for help or risk not having enough manpower to stop the Fire Nation."

"You mean ask the North Pole for help and risk having Aang imprisoned?" Toph interjects.

Katara shoots her a look. "They can't force him to fight."

"And the Northern Tribe will fight anyway when they see the Fire Nation advancing on them. I don't see how we need them." Toph remains stubborn, crossing her arms over her chest and drawing her knees up.

"The Fire Nation has airships," Zuko reminds her. "When they're at the northern and southern shores it's already too late. With the power of the comet they'll burn everything to the ground like it's dry kindling. We need to stop them before they make landfall." Katara shoots him a grateful look and he smiles back, holding her gaze for just a second too long.

Sokka pushes the thought out of his mind in favor of another, more important one. Zuko does have a point. The comet will give firebenders too much strength and having your whole city destroyed in an arctic tundra is a death sentence. If people even survive the burning down of the city, which is unlikely.

He shakes his head with a big sigh. "It's too much of a risk."

"What exactly is?" Katara wants to know. "That they'll imprison Aang?"

"That they'll imprison you and me! They'll both see us as traitors."

"Not if we say-"

"It doesn't matter what we say, Hahn is gonna believe what he wants to believe!"

"Who on earth made that guy chief if he's so bad?" Toph asks but gets ignored, even though Sokka would like to know the answer to that question as well. It's a major problem. "And what are they gonna think of Toph when they see her? She's Earth Kingdom and a Beifong. That's not exactly the definition of popular in the Water Tribes," he continues, ignoring Toph's indignant huff. "Not to mention Zuko. They'll execute him on the spot."

That gives Katara pause. Interesting.

"Then Toph and I won't come," Zuko suggests, meeting Katara's worried gaze. "You and Sokka and Aang take Appa to the North Pole and Toph and I wait here until you come back."

"That assumes that we come back before the comet," Sokka argues. "Which definitely won't happen if Hahn decides to throw us into prison."

"Then we fight our way free," Katara replies. "I'm a master, Aang's the Avatar and don't tell me you choose this moment to sell yourself short on your sword skills. You got trained by the best swordmaster in the Fire Nation and the South Pole."

"I'm just being realistic."

"And I'm trying to save our asses here!" And if the situation is so dire that Katara swears, the world is doomed. "It's too big a risk! We need them, Sokka. Not that I don't trust Piandao and Iroh and whatever allies they gather, but what if it's not enough? What if we can't infiltrate the ships? What if we can't stop them from launching in the first place? Then we're dead. Dead. This isn't a game. They can't force Aang to do what they want. In the worst case we'll just pretend to go along with whatever they say and then just not do it. We can worry about the aftermath after we've made sure that we're not gonna get burned alive. Besides, it's in the North Pole's best interest to keep themselves alive. We'll work something out, but if we don't go there now, we're done for."

She holds his gaze for a second, blue on blue. His hands are clenched into fists and he can feel them getting numb from cutting off their blood flow for so long.

He knows how Hahn is. He doesn't care about anyone but himself and the glory of his tribe. Should they fail, they're doomed. But should they fail on the day of the comet, they're doomed too.

Sometimes, life is about choosing the lesser evil.

He looks to Aang, who has been strangely quiet this whole conversation. "What do you think?" he asks him. "You're pretty much the main character here. Would you go to the North Pole?"

Aang shoots him a panicked look before schooling his face into a thoughtful expression. He looks at the stone at his feet for a moment, silently pondering the question. Then he looks up with a firm expression.

"I think we should go." And his voice is stern and determined. "I'm supposed to give all people hope. They've waited a hundred years for me, right? They'll listen to me."

"Hopefully," Toph huffs, not very hopeful. She holds up her hands. "But hey, not me who has to set foot on that awful snow."

"My father's simply too strong," Zuko chimes in. "We need every help we can get."

Everyone looks to Sokka then. He lets out an exhausted sigh. "Fine," he says. "I don't like it, but fine."

Katara holds his gaze, a hopeful look in her eyes. She nods, and smiles.

—

It is decided then: Aang, Sokka and Katara will take Appa to the North Pole to ask for help and hopefully alert the South Pole. Zuko and Toph will stay with the Sun Warriors for a few days longer and then, not wanting to take advantage of the Sun Warrior's rapidly running out hospitality for much longer, will take a boat - also provided by the ancient warriors - to the Western Air Temple, where they will meet up with the rest of the group before making their way to the rendezvous point in the Earth Kingdom to meet Iroh, Piandao and their gathered allies.

It's a simple plan. What can go wrong?

A knock on the doorframe causes Katara to look up from the bag she's currently packing. Zuko stands in the door, giving her a shy smile. "Hey."

"Hey," she greets and closes the gap between them to press her lips against his. She's not sure where the others are but the hallway is empty. And even if someone would see them - who cares? Sokka had already sent them suspicious looks earlier, and she's sure he'll want to talk about it soon.

Zuko hums against her lips and breaks the kiss, his hands gathering on her back to press her closer to him. "I don't want to see you go."

She presses her forehead to his. "Me neither. But we'll be back as fast as we can."

"Hopefully."

"We'll be fine. Hahn will listen and if he doesn't..." She shrugs. "He's no match against me."

He smiles. "Oh, I don't doubt that. Just... take care, okay? Don't do anything stupid." He cradles her cheek in his hand and gives her such a concerned and loving look that she wants to melt right then and there.

She gives him a peck on the nose. "I won't. I thought you knew me."

He snorts in amusement. "Yeah, that's why I'm saying it."

"Hey." She huffs and gives him a playful swat on the chest. "Watch what you're saying."

"Oh yeah?" He arches an eyebrow. "And if I don't?"

"Hmm, I don't know. I'll... kiss you to death?"

"I've never heard of anyone dying that way."

"Then you'll be the first."

"I'm looking forward to it."

He kisses her then, sweet and gentle, pouring everything he has in the kiss. She reciprocates with just as much fevor, putting all her emotions into the way she presses herself against him, swallows the small sighs tearing themselves from his throat, lets her hand wander into his hair, pulling slightly.

Then, the tone changes.

He gets rougher, more desperate. The hand on her back presses her even closer, giving her no space to breathe. His lips get faster, his tongue dominates hers, and he coaxes her mouth open like he is starving and she is his salvation.

Katara only dimly registers him backing her up against the wall of the room and then pressing her against it, not caring about the rough stone digging into her back or that anyone could walk in on them. She matches him, is just as desperate to drink him in, to map every last inch of him so that she'll never forget him. Her hands wander over his chest and under his shirt, determined to explore, to map, to remember.

Zuko groans, the sound coming from deep in his chest. It trembles under her fingers, the skin warm and hot and burning. He is burning her, but she will drown him. He lifts her up then, his hands on her backside, forcing her to entwine her angles behind him before kissing her throat. But it's not the soft butterfly kisses from the night before, no, this time he sucks and bites and licks.

She can't help the moan making its way past her lips, heat pooling in the spot between her legs. That seems to spur him on, and he tosses his hips into hers, lets her feel all of him.

He's panting against her throat now, his breath hot on her skin, and she presses her breasts against his chest, gasping, desperate to feel some friction, anything. She's never wanted something more than in this moment.

He begins a rough rhythm then, pressing himself against her over and over again, forcing her back against the wall with every thrust. She barely keeps herself from crying out at the sensation of the hardest part of him pressed against her, instead opting to silence herself through kissing him senseless.

One of his hands comes up to cup her breast, kneads, massages, pinches the nipple through the cloth, and it's the best thing she's ever felt. She throws her head back, feels him panting and groaning against her throat, sucking on her pulse point. She closes her eyes, focuses on how every nerve in her body gets stimulated by him, mouth open in a silent scream, her hips meeting his with every thrust, and then there's a tingling sensation starting from her toes and going up to her thighs, and all she can focus on is him between her legs, the hand on her breast, the other on her backside, herself clenching -

He swallows her moan as she comes, his lips only dimly registering in the back of her mind. She is dizzy, she is hot, she is sweating and panting, and then he is picking up his desperate pace, pressing himself even more against her, stifling his groans against her lips. And she's not sure what exactly she feels, but then his whole body is shaking, slowing down, giving it a few more thrusts before stilling completely.

They remain like that perhaps for seconds or for hours, she doesn't know and she doesn't care, panting against each other. Then, he sets her back down and presses his forehead against hers, eyes still closed, breathing hard.

She swallows. "Fuck."

"That was..." He's searching for words.

"That was good."

"Yeah." He nods. "That was more than good."

And absolutely everyone could have come in and seen them, but she doesn't care. All that matters is him.

He backs away, giving her space. "Was that okay?"

She gives him a confused look, amusement gleaming in her eyes. "It was more than okay. Thought you noticed that."

He chuckles before becoming serious again. "No, I mean... that wasn't too much, was it? Because if it was, then I'm-"

"Zuko," she cuts him off, laying a soothing hand on his cheek. She traps her gaze with his. "If it would have been, I would have told you, trust me. It's fine. That was... that was great." She presses a soft kiss to his lips in assurance.

He leans his forehead against hers again, not saying anything but simply breathing each other in.

Then: "Promise me you'll come back."

She smiles, wiping her thumb over his cheek and breathing in his scent, committing it to memory. "I promise."

Notes:

This is probably the happiest they've been in a long time... and will be.

Chapter 25: Twenty-Four

Notes:

Ahhhh I'm so sorry for not posting! I legit forgot. It's exam season where I am and I've been doing nothing but studying for weeks now.

But hey, at least I can calculate economic functions and balance accounts now, that's gotta be good for something, right?

Anyways, by this time next week I'll be partially free until the end of march, and I'm gonna use that time well to finally finish the last chapters of this fic!

Yes, we are nearing the end, but don't worry, there's still a few arcs we gotta get through.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The flight to the North Pole is long and exhausting. Bent on making it there as fast as possible, they take as few breaks as possible, only stopping to give Appa his necessary breaks and to buy supplies in the villages they find along the way before they leave land behind to fly over the endless northern sea.

Katara buries herself deeper into the green coat she'd acquired from a market and does her best not to shiver. Water Tribe coats are better for the bone-chilling cold of the poles, but that also means that they're also only found in said poles. Until they arrive, she'll have to make due with this one.

Being a firebender for the last few months and spending most the summer in the Fire Nation has caused her to almost forget what true cold feels like. The kind that seeps into your bones and into your soul and makes you feel like you'll never be warm again.

(The kind that steals your mother away and leaves you aching.)

She almost misses it, the heat. She's gotten so used to it and to the humidity in the air. The sudden change is jarring. She almost wishes she'd be a firebender again, just so she could keep herself warm. She eyes Aang sitting on Appa's head, staring out over the ocean in his light Earth Kingdom clothes and not seeming fazed by the icy wind in the slightest, and wonders how he does it.

Then again, the cold isn't all bad. It's home. It's warm hearths and hearty stews and blue cloth and white furs. It's a father's gentle touch, a mother's soothing voice, a grandmother's guiding hand, a brother's teasing smile. She looks to Sokka and wonders if he feels the same. He looks over the saddle rim, head resting on his arms with an unreadable expression on his face. She knows he doesn't like to be here, knows he'd rather be back in the Fire Nation, planning out their next steps, but they've got no other options.

Sometimes, you have to choose the lesser evil.

She's not sure how Hahn will react to them. It won't be favorable, that's for sure. But he'll listen, right? He'll have to. The faith of his people depends on whether he'll listen or not.

(She ignores the bad feeling welling up in her gut.)

Katara looks out over the icebergs below. She's not sure how far they still have to fly, but they must be close. She's glad she's a waterbender again. She's not sure how she would have pulled off entering the city as a firebender pretending not to be one.

And so she closes her eyes, lets the icy chill seep into her bones, throws her head back so she can feel the wind cutting against her skin, and thinks of home.

And then massive tendrils of water shoot up from beneath them to yank Appa down.

—

Toph can feel everything that goes on in this ancient city. Everything. She can feel animals crawling their way through the vines, something massive moving in caves up the mountains - dragons, apparently -, Sun Warrior's going about their day... Zuko and Katara grinding against each other like there's no tomorrow. Ew.

The snarky remark she makes to make Sparky splutter and choke on air makes it totally worth it, though.

With the others gone, he and the fuzzball named Momo are her only entertainment. What is she supposed to do, actually learn something? Pff.

She will die of boredom, either here or at the Western Air Temple when the Sun Warrior's inevitably kick them out, she's sure of it.

"Sooooo, you're a thing now?"

A beat.

"What?"

"You and Sugar Queen?"

Another beat.

"I guess..."

She smirks. "Does Boomerang know?"

"Not as far as I know..."

"Ahh, that'll be fun."

A choking sound.

"No, but seriously - I always kind of knew that you'd end up together."

She can practically feel his raised eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah." She nods. "The way you hated each other and were constantly bickering - although I would have expected angry hate sex rather than whatever the hell that was that you did yesterday."

Another choking sound, followed by a cough only someone who chokes on their own breath can make.

"Jeez, relax. It's a natural part of life."

"...still."

She chuckles, a sound that almost sounds like a cackle. Eh, where's the difference anyway? "You're my only entertainment here, Sparky."

Which isn't quite true. Because, as Toph comes to find, the Sun Warrior's also used metal to build that fancy city of theirs.

She thinks back to that awful swamp they had the displeasure of visiting a few months ago, and what those swamp guys told them.

Everything is connected. We are all one and the same.

Metal used to be earth. It still is, just purified. She spends her days laying her palms on every surface with metal she can find, searching, looking, comparing.

Aang told them energybending works this way. Every bender uses their chi to manipulate a certain element.

So who says she can't do the same with metal?

And so while Sparky uses his chi to wield fire, she uses it to locate the earth contained in metal. Metalbending is impossible it is said, but since when has impossible ever stopped Toph Beifong? In fact, it only spurs her on even more.

She sends out her senses, reaches, yanks.

She feels the vibrations in the earth, on every surface, and focuses on one little surface.

One insignificant little -

There.

Earth in metal.

She raises her hand.

And the metal follows.

—

They're immediately brought before Hahn and his council. He looks older than the last time she's seen him, more worry lines are etched onto his face and his frown is deeper now than before.

Katara has never liked him but she can see when a man is tired and exhausted.

Sitting off to the side, Yue smiles at her encouragingly. She also looks different, although Katara can't quite put her finger on it. It's been several years since they've seen each other, but the northern princess looks as beautiful and elegant as ever. Katara smiles back.

Hahn clears his throat.

"So," he begins. "Sokka. Katara." He's not using their titles and she's not sure how she should feel about that. She steels herself. "Avatar." He nods to Aang standing between her and Sokka. She can see that he's doing his best to appear neutral, although his hand is clutching his staff tightly and the line of his jaw is hard.

"It is an honor that you decided to grace us with your presence." Hahn looks between her and Sokka. "Royalty so rarely has time for the less important things. Like doing your duty to your homeland for example." He accentuates the barb with a raised eyebrow.

"This isn't our homeland," Sokka grits out. "The South is." He's right, but that's not really the point, and it's certainly not helping the situation. She shoots him a warning look but he's not even looking at her, instead locked in some staring contest with Hahn.

They've always had problems, Sokka and Hahn. Sokka had been supposed to marry Yue once, and Yue had taken a liking to him. But then she had ended up with Hahn and he had never missed the opportunity to remind a heartbroken Sokka of his loss. There's also the fact that Hahn is now chief and Sokka is not. It's complicated, even if most of it boils down to 'I'm manlier than you'.

Katara had always thought this was just some shallow issue. Sure, Hahn is a jerk and Sokka is not (most of the time), but in hard times, they could work together. Surely. Hopefully.

Now, she's not so sure anymore.

At last, Sokka breaks the stare. "We are one tribe," Hahn says, "so therefore it is."

And there is the northern arrogance. Her hands clench into fists, her nails digging into her palms while she bites her tongue to keep from saying something that could ruin this.

The North and South had been more strongly united since the beginning of the war, putting up a united front against the rest of the world in order to survive. But under the surface, conflict boils and always had boilt.

The South isn't as strong as the North, not as big, not as rich, not as grant and opulent. Without the North's help, the Southerners would have dwindled in the war. There would be no city standing where it is today, but a village made of tiny igloos and tents, barely fit to house its inhabitants. And no Northerner ever missed the chance to remind a Southerner of that. Hell, they even installed a northern chief after her father's death. They view the South as nothing more than a northern colony, a charity project.

But Hahn is right. North or South, they're both Water Tribe. And the Water Tribe sticks together.

"You're right," she says to diffuse the situation. "That's why we're here." She decides to cut right to the point. No point wasting any more time. "We infiltrated the Fire Nation and found plans for a certain event in a few weeks. Does Sozin's comet ring any bells?"

Hahn's eyes cut to hers, a deep blue. "The comet that helped Sozin annihilate the Air Nomads? Yes, I am aware. I did have the best tutors the North has to offer growing up, as I thought you were aware."

She ignores the last part. "That comet is returning in just a few weeks."

Gasps all around the hall. Council members look at each other in shock. Hahn's eyes widen, a rare sight of panic on his face. Yue puts a shocked hand in front of her open-hanging mouth.

"And how do you know that?" a council member asks. Pakku, if she recalls correctly. He'd reluctantly shown her a few waterbending tricks a few years ago, although he hadn't quite managed to contain the smirk when she'd beat up his students without breaking a sweat. "You infiltrated the Fire Nation you say? Do they just let foreign royalty wander into their palace to get a look at their plans out of pity?"

"No. But they're a very organized nation. They keep backups of plans."

"I had a vision," Aang chimes in. "My past life - Avatar Roku - showed me the arrival of the comet. It's true, and we don't have much time."

"The comet will grant firebenders the power of a hundred suns," Sokka adds. "On airships and warships they will make their way to the poles and burn them to the ground. As the North Pole is bigger" - and he says this through gritted teeth -, "the majority of their forces will be focused here."

"And why decide to share that information now?" another member of the council asks. "After vanishing for months, making us think you were dead? And then the same happened to your sister and now you're both standing in front of us."

"What I believe Attuk is trying to say," Hahn speaks up before any of them can answer, "is that this whole situation is a little strange. A strange light is seen and at the same time, the prince of the Southern Tribe vanishes. A month later, the same happens to his sister, and then, a few months later, both show up here with the Avatar claiming to have successfully infiltrated the Fire Nation - something no one has been able to do in decades. One wonders what you have been up to all this time."

"Like we just said, we used that time to infiltrate the Fire Nation," Katara bites out quickly. "And no one has been able to do it in decades because no one has actually tried."

"Waiting for the Avatar was essential. Without him, storming the Fire Nation would be a suicide mission. Speaking of which - Sokka, Katara, I thought that Tulek was as clear on the subject as I am. As soon as the Avatar is found, he is to be brought to one of the poles immediately."

Ah, here it is. Now comes the hard part.

"And congratulations, Sokka - you did find the Avatar, something people have been hoping to accomplish for a whole century." Beside Aang, Sokka grits his teeth. "But as no one failed to notice - the Avatar failed to show himself to the poles until now, even though he was obviously in the company of Water Tribe royalty. One wonders why that is? It is your duty to serve your people. Surely, travel from the outer reaches of the South to the capital would have been shorter than the way from the Fire Nation to here." Hahn raises an eyebrow.

Katara shoots her brother a look. This is it. They can't exactly explain just why Sokka didn't bring Aang to the South Pole. He'd be thrown in prison or even executed for treason.

"I thought it best to find the Avatar an earthbending teacher first," Sokka replies. "As there are none at the poles, I traveled the Earth Kingdom for one. It is important that an Avatar learns all the elements, or he won't have the spiritual connection that is necessary to connect with his past lives and go into the Avatar State."

They're not sure if that is the truth or not but it's not something Hahn could argue. Avatar business is Avatar business and no one else's, tribal chief or not.

"When I found Aang, I got separated from my canoe and lost my orientation. There was no way for me to get back to my ship as his flying bison was exhausted and couldn't fly at the moment." Lie. He'd told her everything that happened, and Appa certainly could fly. "We ended up on an island south of the mainland of the Earth Kingdom and then began our search. I know it might appear that I have abandoned my tribe, but in reality, I have prepared the Avatar for his confrontation with the Fire Lord and used the chance to infiltrate the Fire Nation. It was a coincidence that Katara got attacked by a Sea Serpent and stranded on the same beach Aang and I were camping at. She tried to do the reasonable thing" - he gives her a quick look -, "and try to convince me to get back to the South Pole. But as I said, I felt like I needed to use the chance to infiltrate the enemy and find out their plans."

"And is the Avatar fully trained?" Hahn asks, his gaze landing on Aang. "Does he have that... spiritual connection he needs to go against the Fire Lord?"

Katara is simultaneously glad and mortified that he focuses on that and not on their story filled with holes. She looks at Aang, whose knuckles are white, his posture rigid. She's seldom seen him this tense.

"Well... mostly. You see, I roped Sokka and Katara into going on this spiritual journey with me to open my chakras to access the Avatar State..."

"And can you?"

"Uh... it's not that easy. I can't just... turn it off and on at will."

Hahn raises an eyebrow. "You can't? What good does an Avatar do who cannot use his powers?"

Wow, a bit harsh. Katara does her best to conceal her glare, although she has this very satisfying mental image of smacking Hahn.

"I can!" Aang quickly replies. "It's just hard to control."

"So can you take on the Fire Lord or not?"

A loaded question. Silence settles over the room like a heavy blanket.

A beat.

Two.

Then: "Yes, I can."

He looks determined, his grey eyes trained firmly on Hahn, not breaking the contact, staff proud beside him.

Hahn doesn't say anything for a moment, the beads in his hair gleaming in the bluish light. Then he nods, and his face softens. "Good." He stands up and raises his hands. "Then I am delighted to announce that the prince and princess of the South have finally come home with the Avatar in tow! Let it be known that the end of the war is near!"

The hall erupts in cheers.

—

"See," Katara hisses, leaning nearer so that he can hear her. "I told you Hahn would see reason."

"Yeah, because we've left out certain details," Sokka hisses back. "This is a rat-viper nest. Don't you see all the looks we get? They don't trust us. They think we committed treason."

"We brought the Avatar back," she argues, smiling to a noble that catches her eye at the grand table. Hahn had decided to throw a feast and now they're right in the middle of said rat-viper nest. Sokka doesn't like it one bit. "We're heroes in their eyes."

"Deluding yourself into seeing through rose-tinted glasses has never been your style, sis."

She swats him on the arm. "I'm not! I'm just not as negative as you!"

"Oh yeah, because your optimism always got us-"

"More wine?"

They jump apart with undignified yelps. Great. They can't look any less suspicious. "What?"

"More wine?" the servant asks, his greyish eyes dark in the light.

"Uh... yeah, yeah, sure," Katara replies. Sokka gives her a look. Seriously?

She glares right back at him.

"No thanks, just water for me," Aang says as the servant makes a move to refill his cup. As the Avatar, he got the seat of honor right beside Hahn, much to his chagrin. Sokka winces in sympathy.

"Look," he says after the servant has moved on to another table. "All I'm saying is that we need to get out of here as soon as possible because there is no way Hahn isn't gonna poke holes in our story. And you see the way he looks at Aang, like he's some piece of meat." Beside him, Aang shudders. Poor guy. "We just need to tell him that we have allies in the Earth Kingdom and that Aang needs time to prepare himself as soon as this stupid feast is over. Then we'll get out of here, preferably tomorrow."

"You don't think that I don't want to leave as much as you do?" Katara questions. "Because I do, okay? I'm just saying that you don't have to be so paranoid. And for La's sake, eat your food. It's gonna look suspicious if you don't, especially for you."

He can't argue with that, although the salty meat tastes like ash on his tongue. He should be happy eating real Water Tribe food for the first time in months, but instead, all he can think about is how his stomach is turning itself upside down. He feels sick.

He glances at Yue sitting on Hahn's other side. She catches his gaze, smiles, and then blushes before looking away.

Ah, Yue. He hopes she is happy with Hahn, although he's a total jerk.

"So," Hahn begins, taking a sip of wine from his glass and then setting it back down. "Avatar. You undertook a spiritual journey, you say?"

Aang exchanges a quick glance with Sokka and Katara before turning back to Hahn. "Yeah, I did. Every Avatar kind of has to."

Sokka sincerely hopes that Aang will be as vague as possible and not let anything slip accidentally. The kid isn't the best talker when it comes to subterfuge. He also hopes that Hahn is too drunk to notice any potential slipups and that Yue will keep him distracted, although that wouldn't be fair to her.

"And did you gain any significant insights? Did your past lives tell you by any chance anything important about the Fire Nation?"

"Well, that's not really how it works..."

"But that Avatar Roku guy told you about the comet, did he not?"

"Well, yeah. Uhm... well, we went to the Eastern Air Temple and there was this guru."

"And what did that guru do?" Another sip, but Hahn's eyes are sharp and focused. Aang visibly shrinks under his gaze.

"He showed me how to open my chakras. Chakras are focused pools of energy, you know. It can cause serious problems when they're clocked."

"What kind of problems?"

"Uh... I don't know, just general problems, I guess?"

Sokka internally winces. Aang is just a kid, he knows, but he doesn't seem like a very convincing Avatar right now.

"We also visited this swamp in the Southern Earth Kingdom," Katara speaks up, trying to gain Hahn's attention to give a visibly nervous Aang a break to gather himself. "Did you know there are waterbenders there? Their forms are quite different from ours, and they can bend plants-"

"And what did you do after meeting the guru, Avatar?" Hahn asks, completely ignoring her. Beside Sokka, Katara huffs, and he internally joins her. He's never liked Hahn with his superiority complex, but the vibe he is giving off tonight just seems off. Like he knows they're lying and hiding something from him. But if he says that, Katara will just tell him he's paranoid.

But it's not paranoia if it's true, right? He's sure Zuko would agree with him were he here.

Doesn't matter, though. They'll just have to give their best for a few days. No one can actually prove anything. They'll be fine, and soon they'll be on their way to the Western Air Temple.

"...and went to this library in the desert."

"A library?"

"A secret one, guarded by the spirit of knowledge Wan Shi Tong."

"Pretty crazy fella," Sokka chimes in. "Got like nooooo chill."

"And did you find anything interesting in that secret library? I imagine it holds many secrets." As expected, Hahn totally ignores him. He gets that Aang is the mythical figure they've been searching for for a century but still... this hyper fixation is kinda creepy.

"Oh yeah!" Aang replies, seemingly glad to have found something harmless he can focus on. "I found out much about the Air Nomad's past. It's really interesting to know how the Air Temples were built, you know, and oh, I also found scrolls depicting this strange bending that I later found out is energybending and something only really enlightened people can do, and then we also found scrolls about waterbending and firebending - this is how I taught myself firebending -," - he gives a nervous chuckle - "and uh... oh, there were also these fox spirits running around collecting knowledge for Wan Shi Tong, and Sokka and Z-" He cuts himself off, noticing his mistake.

Sokka sincerely hopes Hahn has drunk too much wine to notice.

"Sokka found this really cool room where there were stars on the ceiling and some kind of mechanism and apparently there's this eclipse happening-"

Aang stops abruptly, his eyes wide and fearful. Slowly, as if in slow motion, Hahn sets his glass down. Sokka watches as the wine swishes against the edge.

"An eclipse?"

Beside him, Katara stills.

Fuck.

"Well, you see, this room depicted future cosmical events due to a technology I personally would call..." And he launches into a lengthy explanation about how that dome in the library works in hopes of distracting Hahn.

Please let him be too drunk, please let him be too drunk, please let him be too drunk-

Hahn holds up a hand, his eyes never leaving Aang. "An eclipse, you say? When?"

"Uhm..." Aang stutters, his eyes nervously flicking to Sokka and Katara. "I'm not sure..."

"In the past," Sokka supplies. "It happened this winter and we never noticed because the sun doesn't come up here in the winter."

"But you said it only showed the future?"

He stills. And glares at his wine glass. Had Hahn not insisted on cheering multiple times to the war's end earlier...

"It does," he says because he's not sure what else to say. "But, uh... it's not very accurate, I believe. I mean, what machine is, right?"

"I thought you were an avid supporter of technology?" Hahn arches an eyebrow and really, is that the only facial expression he's capable of?

"Well... traveling with the Avatar changes things, you know."

"Does it?"

"Yes."

Katara kicks him under the table.

"So Avatar," Hahn says, turning back to said Avatar. "Firebenders get their powers from the sun, do they not? When an eclipse happens, that means they lose their powers." A glance at Sokka. "I read, you know." Then, to Aang: "When does that eclipse happen exactly?"

Aang is visibly sweating now, his cheeks turning pink. "Uhm... I think I forgot."

"You think?"

He swallows. "Yeah, yeah... you see, Wan Shi Tong wasn't happy about us using this room and tried to sink the library with us in it and in the chaos... I forgot." He shrugs his shoulders and puts on his best fake smile.

Sokka clenches his fists to keep himself from slapping a hand against his forehead.

They are doomed. They are so, so doomed.

Hahn turns his body a bit more towards them, looks at Katara, then at Sokka, holds his gaze for a moment before looking to Aang with sharp eyes that belie the amount of wine he consumed tonight.

"Then why do I get the feeling that you're hiding something, oh Great Hope For The World?"

Uh-oh.

Notes:

Uh oh indeed.

Chapter 26: Twenty-Five

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

There is energy all around us.

He gets into a stance.

The energy is both yin and yang; positive and negative.

He begins moving his arms in wide circles, just like the chieftain of the Sun Warriors had shown him, like he remembers watching Azula do.

Separate the energies.

He tries to feel for the negative and for the positive, tries to feel the different energies building up inside him. He closes his eyes, feels the warm sun on his skin, lending him its power.

He is the sun, and the sun is him.

Only a few select firebenders are able to wield the cold fire. To do it, one must have a clear mind and be absolutely focused.

The sun on his skin, the stone under his feet, the light breeze ruffling his hair.

The energies within his body; yin and yang; positive and negative.

Katara. The North Pole. Aang. Sokka -

Yin and Yang.

Hahn. Iroh. Massive waves send to crush, to drown, to kill -

Positive and negative.

Separating these energies creates an imbalance.

He is Zuko, nephew of Iroh. A banished prince, bent on restoring peace to the world, bent on ending this tyranny.

He is Zuko, son of Ozai. A banished prince, a failure, a coward, a traitor-son.

He is one, and he is the other, and he is both.

The energy wants to restore balance.

He wants to end this war. He wants to restore balance to the world.

He is willing to kill his father, betray his nation, betray his family, throw all the happy memories from years ago away. He is willing to kill his sister, he -

The positive and negative energy comes crashing back together.

He is both and he is neither and he wants to restore peace but he also doesn't want to destroy his family.

Katara. Sokka. Toph. Aang. Iroh.

His family.

Ozai. Azula.

His other family.

Only that he is willing to kill his father and to hurt his sister and what does that make him? He'll bring peace, but at what price?

(A war won through violence is a war never really ended.)

Through providing release and guidance, one creates lightning.

Separate the energies. Have a clear mind. Release the energies.

Katara. The North Pole. Icebergs, glaciers, massive tendrils of water sent to kill, the Avatar dead -

Azula. Ozai. The Fire Nation. Fire, lightning, the world burning to ash beneath their feet -

He releases.

Whatever lightning there is explodes in his face.

—

As easily as Hahn throws a feast, he ends it just as abruptly. Sokka, Aang and Katara are dragged into the council hall together with Hahn's advisors and forced to reveal their knowledge about the eclipse.

Which is apparently enough to accuse Sokka and Katara of treason.

"You have known about this for months and not made it your mission to share this vital information with your tribe?" Hahn asks angrily. "I am ashamed of both of you. We could end the war with this! We-"

"We can't invade on the eclipse!" Aang cuts him off and ignores the angry looks he gets for that. "There's a good reason we haven't-"

"Silence!" Hahn bellows. "And you, Avatar, should be ashamed of yourself most of all! It is your duty to protect the world from the Fire Nation-"

"It is my duty to restore balance, there's a difference."

"- and you have chosen to abandon the world to a hundred years of war."

"I didn't-"

"And when you had the chance to make it right, you chose to keep vital information for yourself. We had months to plan, months, and now we only have a week left-"

"We can't invade on that day!" Aang insists, and Sokka's rarely seen him this argumentative. "There are spirits roaming about, you'll die-"

"Guards! Take the Avatar and the Southerners into custody!"

"What?" Aang exclaims bewildered while Sokka and Katara share a panicked look. This isn't good. This is bad, very very bad.

"You have committed treason against your tribe by withholding vital information for months and not doing your all to save your tribe. You have dishonored yourselves. Your father would be ashamed were he here to see you."

That gets Sokka going. "Don't you dare talk about our father! You know nothing, Hahn, nothing! We trained the Avatar, we're in the process of gathering allies to make a move on the Fire Nation that isn't a total suicide mission, we're-"

"The words of a traitor! Do you really think I believe a word that comes out of your mouth?"

He looks to Yue as the guards grab his arms from behind and force them to press against his back uselessly. Her eyes are wide and shocked, her hand covering her mouth. He begs her with his eyes to do something, anything, because this can't be happening, this is bad, this is a catastrophe.

This is the exact reason why he didn't want to come here because he knew Hahn wouldn't listen, knew something would go wrong, knew Hahn wouldn't hesitate to throw him into prison.

And now Hahn has Aang, and that is bad, that is -

He needs to get away. He can't let this happen; they need to get away and now.

He needs to do something now.

He kicks the guard behind him right below the knee so that he loses his balance and goes down, releasing his arms. Then he turns, his fist ready to swing at the other guard when suddenly, there's something cold and sharp at his cheek, and it stings, and then he's on the ground, and something is covering his hands -

He is iced to the ground.

Sokka looks up, expecting to see Katara and Aang fighting, to see them hurry to free him from the ice so that they can flee together, but instead sees a whole other picture.

Katara stands with her hands in a bending stance for just a second longer before easing out of it and - and bowing to Hahn. Actually bowing.

To Hahn.

What in Tui and La's name...?

He looks to Aang, who is still being restained by two guards and looks just as clueless as Sokka feels.

"Chief Hahn," Katara says and stands up straight again. "As I am sure you recall, Tulek sent me on a mission to bring my brother back home. When I found him with the Avatar, I had every intention to bring him back to the South Pole, although I lacked the means to actually do so. I used the time spent in the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation to train the Avatar and then mentioned to him and my brother that we might get aid from the North Pole. It is my greatest honor to present the Avatar to you, Chieftain. Months of careful planning have finally come to fruition. I am under your command."

At the end of her little speech, she bows her head.

For a moment, everything is still, as if the world stopped spinning.

Sokka's mouth hangs open in shock. What? What did Katara just say?

It makes no sense, none at all.

Why would she...?

Except that she was the only one to bring up the North Pole. She was the one who brought them here, and her intentions had been clear when she'd first joined them: bring the Avatar to either the South or North Pole and use him to end the war.

But her intentions had changed, hadn't they? Her views had changed. She didn't think like that anymore, she didn't. She wouldn't sell them out like that, she wouldn't.

Except that she had just struck him down and was now refusing to meet his eye.

The last thing Sokka sees before he is dragged away by the guards is the back of Katara's head while something in him shatters.

—

"The Fire Prince and the Avatar," a voice speaks up behind him. "Not a sight I'd have thought to get to see in my lifetime."

Zuko turns from where he's standing on the porch of one of the buildings, looking back at the Sun Chief, a sleeping Momo perched on one of his shoulders. Without his orange paint and ornate golden headdress, he looks different in the moonlight. Not like someone ancient and unreachable, but like someone ordinary, human. Just like him.

"But perhaps there is hope," he continues. "Ever since General Iroh found this city..." He trails off, looking off into the distance after coming to stand beside Zuko. Zuko looks up at the moon, and imagines Katara doing the same. He knows she's not, for there is no moon at the North Pole this time of year, but it's a nice illusion nonetheless. He closes his eyes and lets the silvery light wash over him, remembering days where it energized him, days where he could share this moment.

"I'd have never thought my uncle would lie about something like that," he mutters at last. "The last dragons... I mean, I'm glad, but it never occurred to me..." He trails off, unsure of what to say.

He remembers being mad at his uncle for slaying the last dragon. Now he feels stupid, because Iroh did in fact the opposite; he protected the dragons and kept their secret, allowing this old civilization to flourish. Not that he'd known that at the time, as was for the best, but still. It's a weird feeling, one he can't quite explain. But everything to do with his uncle is complicated, so that shouldn't surprise him.

"Your uncle is a good man, Your Highness. A sign that the Fire Nation is not lost."

He feels piercing golden eyes on him, on his scar. He keeps staring resolutely forward, glad for the sleeping lemur hiding part of his face.

Because he knows what this is about, knows what the Sun Chief means. And Zuko knows which side he is on, what he'll have to do to archive balance, to bring peace to the world. But still - every fiber of his being is simultaneously screaming that he is doing the right and the wrong thing.

This is his family they're talking about. He is helping the Avatar overthrow his own father, his own sister. Granted, said sister and father want to burn the world to ashes, and he can't let that happen for obvious reasons, but that doesn't make it any less painful. His whole life, he'd been honed that no one beneath the royal family matters, that fire is superior. That Azula was better and Ozai never to be questioned and Zuko a failure.

He knows now that that's wrong. He's seen so much, done so many things. He's seen the front lines of the war, has lived as a refugee, a nobody, sleeping on the ground and eating nuts. He hasn't been a prince in a long time, and he's okay with that. There is nothing worth going back for in that palace.

Except that that isn't right either. Because there lies his past, his childhood. Spring afternoons spent under the shade of the blossom tree at the turtleduck pond with his mother, her soft fingers in his hair and gentle voice in his ears. Summer nights spent on the rooftops with Ty Lee, Mai and Azula, drinking stolen wine and laughing until the sun came up. Fall mornings spent on the training grounds, straining to see his father's mouth tilt up just a bit in approval.

But it's not all that either. Spring evenings spent at stuffy feasts with nobles watching him like a hawk, waiting for the smallest slip-up. Summer days spent missing his mother, sitting alone at the turtledock pond and wondering if it's all his fault. Fall afternoons spent enduring Azula's barbs, watching her beat him effortlessly in their spars while their father watched with a cruel glint in his eyes.

There are two worlds he is living in and he can't decide which one is more important. He wants to save both, but that's not possible.

Ozai will never stop what he is doing, will never welcome his son back. Azula will never stray from his side; she is too much like Ozai, too ambitious for her own good. Zuko wishes he could somehow get her out of Ozai's grasp, tell her that she is perfect the way she is, that she doesn't have to be anyone's lackey. But then again, she's not just some lackey; she is Azula, and that is self-explanatory.

He can't have both; he'll have to choose.

And he hates that he already knows which one he is going to give up.

He knows it like he knows the sun will come up the next morning, knows it like he knows that Katara will come back to him.

And perhaps he should hate her for making this even more complicated, for drawing him in with those ocean eyes and wide smiles and breathless gasps, for refusing to let him go, for tying him to her, but he doesn't. He knows he never could.

"You will make a great Fire Lord, my prince." The Sun Chief is looking forward again, out at the city washed in moonlight. "You will be what this nation needs. There is hope that the Fire Nation will go back to its roots."

Another long silent moment, and then the chief vanishes into the interior of the house again.

Zuko keeps standing on the porch, leaning against a wooden pillar. The vote of confidence from the Sun Chief is encouraging, surely, but... he's not sure he even wants to become Fire Lord after all this is over, on the slim chance that they survive long enough to actually end this war.

Uncle would be a much better Fire Lord than him. He's spent years sailing the seas without any goal and then wandering the Earth Kingdom. He doesn't know how to lead a whole nation, how to manage a court. He's never been good at it before, and now that he's lived a completely different life from the one he'd had before... it's hard to imagine going back to that first life.

Only, it wouldn't be like before.

He'd have the scar. He'd be the Fire Lord. The war would be over, Ozai either dead or imprisoned, Azula... most likely imprisoned. Or dead. He doesn't want to think about it, but that's very likely what's going to happen. She won't give up without a fight. And he can't let her wage war on this world.

He swallows. Ending this war is complicated enough, he doesn't even want to know what comes after that. Except that he has no choice because this is a future of peace they are talking about, and peace is what this world needs.

He will talk to Uncle about this. He knows that realistically, he will be Fire Lord one day as Uncle is unlikely to have any more children in his old age, but maybe that won't happen for a few more years. Maybe he'll have time to prepare.

Maybe.

It all hangs on a maybe.

But this isn't about him, this is about the world. And he'll do whatever it is that the world needs.

So the next morning, he finds himself standing in the courtyard again, feeling the sun warm his skin and moving his arms in circular motions.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Feel the energies, yin and yang, positive and negative.

Separate the energies.

Bring them together, and guide their release.

He points with two fingers, guides the energies, and throws lightning.

—

The arctic wind bites her skin, chills her deep down to the bone even in her thick parka. She steals a glance at the sun, as high in the sky as always during summer in the far north, and tries to suppress the guilt rising within her. Her steps towards the palace quicken, as if trying to run away from the feelings she's desperately trying to force back.

She's requested an audience with former chieftain Arnook, and her request has been granted. It wouldn't do to be late.

Katara leaves the icy exterior behind and steps into the icy palace. The sun causes the walls to gleam a mysterious and yet friendly blue, and for a moment, she forgets all her guilt and anxiety and basks in the familiarity of the ice.

Then, reality catches up to her.

A servant shows her the way and opens the door for her to be lead inside. Arnook's quarters are big, his sitting-room alone as big as her bedroom at home. Every surface is decorated with blue, but the furniture itself is made out of dark wood found farther inland instead of ice. It gives the whole room a more homey feeling, something less enigmatic.

Arnook himself is sitting at a table, already awaiting her. They exchange their greetings and he pours her a cup of tea after she's taken her parka off and moved to sit.

"So," he begins, pouring himself a cup. "What brings you here, child? You have quite the adventure laying behind you. I must say, I would be interested to hear the whole story from you in person, but I am sure this is not why you came to speak to me."

The cup is warm against her hands, reminding her of another old man sitting in front of her with a love for tea and fire and a very special nephew. She pushes the thought from her mind.

"No," Katara says, shaking her head. "I am afraid I've got more pressing matters, if you'll allow."

He nods in confirmation, keen blue eyes watching her.

She opens her mouth, then closes it again, not quite sure what to say. Or better, how to put it into words. She has to play this carefully, one slip-up and this all could fail.

"You know I am loyal to my people," she settles on, choosing the direct approach to appease the feeling of guilt welling up in her stomach again like a snake winding itself around its victim's throat. "I want what's best for the Water Tribes."

Arnook nods, a sign that he's following her.

"The Avatar is the best bet we have at winning the war," she continues. "He is a deciding factor." She takes a deep breath. "You know that Hahn wants to go forth with the invasion on the day of the eclipse?"

He nods. "Preparations are in full swing, as I'm sure you've noticed. It is less than a week to that faithful day, and the plan is only half-worked out, but you're not gonna get any better prepared than that with that little time. With the Avatar on our side, I am sure this will not be in vain."

Oh. Well. She'd hoped that maybe he'd be a little skeptical given the small timeframe but apparently not.

Whatever. She'll work with what she's given.

"Yeah, about that... I also told Hahn that we've been gathering allies in the Earth Kingdom. We weren't just sitting around before I brought Sokka and Aa- the Avatar here." She's not sure why but she feels the need to correct the people that keep assuming that she just sat around on her backside doing nothing all day. Because that's certainly not true.

"So I've heard, yes. Might you share the names of these allies?"

She splutters. She can't exactly say just who is doing that job, just whose nephew and whose uncle she met. "Well... they went by code names, you wouldn't know them..."

Arnook sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, his hands on his still steaming cup. "Katara," he says, and his voice sounds tired, exhausted. "You know we cannot trust the Earth Kingdom. They have yielded to the enemy, and offered no help to us. We could have-"

"Well, maybe that's because we haven't exactly done much to help them either," she snaps, interrupting him. In the silence that follows, she wants to clap a hand over her shocked mouth and take the words back, but she knows that's not possible, so she forces herself to hold his gaze, blue on blue.

He sets his cup down but doesn't say anything, only waits for her to elaborate. So she does. "We've been raiding their villages,hurting and stealing from Earth Kingdom people. We isolated ourselves at the start of the war and didn't unite with the Earth Kingdom to fight against the Fire Nation. I'm not saying they're innocent and that they haven't made mistakes, but they're not our enemies. They're victims of this war just like us."

Arnook folds his hands under his chin. "If they truly were victims, they would not have granted the Fire Nation free access to their land. Now look what they've become."

"They didn't have much choice," she argues. "With us out of the picture, the Fire Nation controlled the seas and had better technology. They simply couldn't win. Sometimes, you have to choose the lesser evil."

"Even if that lesser evil is to forget one's principles? Earth waits, and earth endures. Neither of which they have done."

"But they did, didn't they? They're still enduring, even under Fire Nation rule. Their population is still fighting to survive. And it's working,"she adds. "Otherwise, Ozai would use the comet to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground. But he's not doing that, is he? He has his sight set on something else."

Silence. Katara listens to the crackling fire in the hearth, tries to draw energy from it, remembers how the sun used to lend her its power. She wonders what it would be like to be a firebender during the midnight sun.

At last, Arnook speaks. "And what is that supposed to tell me?" His tone is calm and controlled, careful not to give away any emotion.

She senses that this is dangerous territory. This could go from controversial to treasonous very quickly, so she has to tread carefully.

"Only that the Earth Kingdom hasn't lost its principles."

She wants to say that maybe the Water Tribes are the ones who have lost their way. Water is fluid and ever-changing and adaptable. Yet, whenever she thinks of home, she thinks of rules. Things she wasn't allowed to do simply because of her gender. Stereotypes and old-fashioned ideas rooted in tradition that no one ever dared to question.

But she doesn't. She senses that that would be a step too far.

"But what I actually wanted to talk to you about," she continues, taking a sip from her tea, "is the day of the eclipse itself. Because there is a reason our... allies aren't attacking that day."

He arches an eyebrow. "Because of the spirits, I believe?"

"Yes." She nods in confirmation. "It would be suicide, even if the firebenders lose their power."

"No more suicidal than it would be to attack on the day of the comet."

"No, you don't - you don't understand. The spirits are ruthless. They don't see us as different people, they see us as one and the same, and they don't differ in who they kill. And they will kill everyone out on the streets, Fire Nation or Water Tribe."

"We have endured a century-long war, we have the Avatar on our side and the firebenders will be powerless. I understand your concern, and I certainly would have wished we had more time to develop a plan and make preparations, but the Water Tribe is adaptable. There will be losses on our side, and as tragic as that is, it is inevitable." He lays a hand on her shoulder, squeezes in what she guesses is supposed to be a reassuring manner but to her only seems suffocating and condescending. "This war will be over soon, dear. Don't worry. You have done your part in bringing the Avatar here."

And Katara wants to scream, wants to laugh because no, this isn't what adaptable means, can't he see that? Hahn is hell-bent on following this one certain path, and that path will lead them to their death.

"No," she insists, shaking her head. "No, this isn't - you're not listening. The last time an eclipse happened, entire villages in the Fire Nation were slaughtered. Women, kids, the sick and the old. Annihilated, like they never even existed. We won't have just a few losses, we will have all the losses."

But Arnook only gives her another pat on the shoulder. "Do not concern yourself with the challenges of war, child. Leave the technicalities to the more experienced."

More experienced men, she thinks he is too polite to say. Although she finds it more insulting that he's not telling it directly to her face.

She's not a child. And she's just as capable as any other man, she knows she is. She could best every bender here without breaking a sweat, and she has certainly seen more of the world and other cultures than any of them ever will.

(She wonders what they would think of her if they'd know that she wielded fire for months on end, that she gave herself over to a firebender. She wonders if they would judge her, would condemn her. They probably would.

That thought doesn't sit well with her.)

"You don't understand-"

"No, Katara, I think you don't understand. You come here, after months of vanishing, after months of hiding the Avatar-"

"I trained the Avatar!"

"- after months of associating with traitors and characters one wrong word away from treason-"

"My brother isn't-"

"- and you come here with all these ideas in your head, ideas that were clearly planted strategically to go against everything the Water Tribe's believe and hold dear, and you question Hahn's authority, you question my authority, and expect us to just blindly follow you because what? A little bird told you seizing the day where the enemy loses its power is foolish? And you expect us, the only nation on earth who has been standing tall and proud against the Fire Nation, to just listen to you? On what basis? You have traveled the world with suspicious characters at your side, and you know how to bend your element, do you think that's enough? You do not have what it takes to lead a whole nation. You are eighteen, little girl. You do not have what it takes to end a war. Do not be so arrogant as to assume you know better than the people who have fought for a century against the Fire Nation. The only reason you are not in a cell with your brother right now is Hahn's good faith in your word - your very thin excuse anyone could poke holes into, if they care to look beneath the surface. You are on thin ice, Katara. Be mindful of it before you find yourself submerged in water you cannot bend."

Katara bites her tongue.

It's not the first 'little girl' speech she's received, and it probably won't be the last, but La, does she want to slap him with one of her water tentacles-

But that wouldn't do her any good. She'd probably get herself locked up alongside Sokka and Aang, and then where would she be? No, she received Arnook's thinly veiled threat loud and clear. She can't say that it doesn't hurt, the knowledge that after all she went through, all she suffered and sacrificed, these men still see her as only a little girl, splashing around with her water, dumb and naive. She cannot fathom how they are seemingly incapable of seeing anything else than their narrow worldview, how they can be so rigid while their own element is so very adaptable, how her mere concerns have seemingly insulted Arnook so fundamentally that he tried his best to diminish her efforts, all her hurt and pain and suffering, her talent and power and very way of being.

She wants to scream. She wants to laugh, she wants to cry, she wants to squeeze every drop of blood from his body-

But she has spent years arguing, has spent years fighting. Now is not the time to give up, and she never will. Arnook's words cannot reach her, cannot hurt her. She knows the truth, knows herself and everything she accomplished. She knows how to pick her fights, and knows when one is lost.

So she only nods and takes a sip of her tea.

(Deep within, something in her stirs. Deep within, something ugly begins to form, something weak, something pathetic, something she desperately fights against, but something she is not sure she can fight the way she is used to.)

When she leaves Arnook's chambers, she runs into Yue.

"Katara," the princess greets with a small incline of her head. "I didn't expect to find you here. You spoke with my father?"

Katara can't quite bring herself to smile. "Yeah. I did."

Yue, perceptive as ever, furrows her brow and leads her to a balcony to speak in private. She can see the whole city from here, vast and ornate and everything the South never wanted to be. She feels a small pang of resentment towards the North, for them thinking they could just swoop in and make the South bow to them.

But without the North, the South wouldn't be as it is today. And better a colony than nothing at all.

"Let me guess," Yue says, bringing Katara out of her thoughts, "you came to talk to my father about what is going to happen tomorrow, and he told you not to concern yourself with such matters?"

She nods. "More or less." More more than less.

A sound from Yue, something between a laugh and a snort, undignified enough to only be heard in the privacy of their shared company. "He gave me the same speech." She folds her arms on the icy railing, her long purple sleeves like a warmer hue to the cold white and blue of the ice. "Only with a bit more disappointment that I should know my place already. You know," she adds before Katara can say anything, "I admire you. As a woman, as a fighter, as a person."

Katara arches an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Yeah." The Northern Princess nods, meeting her gaze. "You don't give up when it's hard, Katara. You wanted to learn how to use your bending in combat, so you did. You wanted to bring the Avatar home, so you did. You wanted to express your opinions, so you did."

Katara bites the inside of her cheek. Because yes, she'd never bow to a man just because he told her to, but she's not all that Yue makes her out to be.

"But it's not like I changed anything," she argues. "We're still going to war tomorrow. The council still doesn't take my opinion into account."

She looks at the sun, hanging high overhead. It's difficult to differentiate the days at this time of year with the sun always shining, but tomorrow, Northern Warriors will sail towards the Fire Nation to wage war, the Avatar and her brother in tow. It had taken her pleading with Hahn for him to allow him on one of the ships, telling him that she has knowledge of the Fire Nation no one else than her brother does. And with his current position as a prisoner, he wouldn't exactly feel inclined to share.

"It's not always the results that matter," Yue says, causing Katara to look at her. But the princess is rubbing her arms and staring forward, not meeting her eyes. "Sometimes, the intentions are just as important."

She senses that there is something deeper behind these words, something raw and vulnerable. Carefully, she reaches out a hand to lay on Yue's arm. "Are you okay?" she asks, careful to keep the pity out of her voice.

Yue sighs, and deflates as if someone poked a hole in her. "Yes," she replies, her head hanging. "It's been a rough couple of months, but I'm okay." She looks up, forces a smile on her face.

Katara senses that this is not the whole truth, but she also doesn't want to probe. She and Yue have always gotten along, but they've never been the closest of friends, although Katara is sure they would have been were it not for the thousands of miles that separated them.

It can be hard to break the ice that inevitably grows between every visit.

So she breaks it.

"I lied, you know," she tells her. She feels Yue's questioning eyes on her, but can't bring herself to look up from where her hands are clutched around the railing, knuckles white. "I didn't bring the Avatar here to help the North Pole win, I... I brought the North Pole to the Avatar to help the world win." She looks up, meets Yue's gaze. "There's a difference."

Yue holds her eyes for a moment, blue on blue. There is something understanding in them, something non-judging. It's like balsam for her wounded spirit.

"And you only told Hahn that..." Something like recognition lights up Yue's eyes.

"To stay out of prison, yes," Katara finishes for her, nodding. "I figured my chances would be better if I still held some ounce of respect. But apparently, that's not enough to sway them."

"Does Sokka know?"

She shakes her head. "No. We didn't exactly plan for that to happen, but it's not really Aang's fault. He was nervous and Hahn kept asking questions and just gave off this really weird vibe... Sokka kept acting paranoid. I guess we had it coming." She shrugs. "And now they're in prison."

"What you're gonna do about that?"

She looks at the sun again. Feelings of guilt and doubt creep up in her again, like a phantom hand choking her. She looks away, and wonders what he would think of her. Nothing good, that is certain.

She feels ashamed.

She does want this war to end, and she wants it to end quickly. Every minute spent fighting is another life lost, another village destroyed, another fire feeding itself on misery and death.

But this is not the way.

Months ago, she would have thought this the right decision. She would have sailed with the Avatar in custody to the Fire Nation to make their streets run red, and she would have smiled while doing so. She would have ignored Sokka's hurt gaze, would have shrugged it off as just another consequence of this war. They all had to make sacrifices, after all.

But some sacrifices just aren't worth it.

She didn't have to look at Sokka to know what his expression would entail, to know the hurt in his eyes, the betrayal. The way his voice had cracked, the way his eyes had pierced at her skin and left needles there that still hurt.

Months of a newly-built trust vanished within a minute.

But she did her best. She stayed out of prison and made sure she'd be able to talk her way out of this, to make sure her people were safe. If Hahn would just listen to her, then she would play by his rules, anything to end this war.

But Hahn wouldn't end the war. Not like this.

It would be so easy to fall back into old patterns, to bow her head under Tulek and Hahn and Arnook, to do what they think is best for their people, her people.

(Part of her wants to. This is her tribe. Her tribe couldn't be wrong, right?)

But she has simply seen too much to be that kind of girl again, to continue living like this.

She is a warrior, and she is to be respected.

She glances at Yue out of the corner of her eye, takes in her elaborate headdress and the long purple robe with even longer sleeves. Unsuited for fighting. Unsuited for doing anything but sitting and looking pretty, really.

They'd tried to do the same to Katara. They'd tried to tame her, to transform her into a doll that only existed to be seen, not heard.

In a way, Yue is a mirror of what she could have been.

And she hates herself for the pity that she feels towards the northern princess, but she can't help herself. She would hate the life Yue is leading. She would sooner throw herself off the nearest cliff than to sit still at every council meeting and never say a word.

Only that Yue isn't Katara. She's no bender, she's not interested in fighting, and she likes peace. She doesn't long for the throb of blood and the power the full moon can lend, she doesn't wake and sees monsters with ice-cold eyes and blood-stained teeth smiling at her.

(She has the approval of the tribe. She is part of the tribe, something Katara fought her whole life to be because there simply was always something in her that just didn't fit.)

And for a moment, she's not sure if she envies the princess or pities her. Maybe both. Maybe none.

She looks back out over the city.

"I don't know," she says at last. "I don't know."

Notes:

Katara is not having a good time. No one is, really.

Don't worry. It gets worse before it gets better.

Also, the image of a sleeping Momo perched on Zuko's shoulders is just so cute to me.

Chapter 27: Twenty-Six

Notes:

Three things:

1) This is definitely one of my favorite chapters. You'll see why.

2) Notice the chapter count having gone up (just a rough estimation).

3) Is anyone here hyped for the ATLA live-action coming out tomorrow? Cuz I definitely am.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Katara closes her eyes and just feels.

Feels the ocean spray on her skin, the breeze playing with her hair, the scent of the sea in her nose.

She'd missed this.

She'd missed all of this.

But then again, she'd never known anything else before.

She opens her eyes, looks down at her hands. They're clutched tightly around the railing, her knuckles white, the scars there faded but still visible. She hasn't been able to get them to still for a few days now, ever since stepping onto the ship. It's like they have a life of their own, like they're nervous and constantly searching for something to do.

Fire had scarred her hands but the little white mark on her wrist is from Hama. From water.

She thinks it's ironic. There's more water in the Fire Nation and more fire in the Water Tribes than she would have thought. Water is a constant part of the Fire Nation's landscape, contained in rivers and waterfalls and the ever-present ocean. Rain falls regularly, and the lush green plants are made of it. In the Water Tribes, fire is found in warm hearths and torches that are used to keep igloos and tents warm.

She thinks there's a certain kind of balance to it.

"Those are some deep scars," says a voice next to her. She startles and turns, only to find Pakku leaning on the railing next to her, looking out at the waves seemingly made of dark silk in the moonlight. "I am sure you seek to get revenge on the nation that did this to your hands."

She bites her lip, clenches her jaw. Because exactly that is what she's been fighting herself about.

She knows another genocide is not the way. She knows that not everyone in the Fire Nation is a monster. She knows that invading the Fire Nation on the day of the eclipse would be foolish because of all the spirit activity. Nevermind the fact that the Fire Lord is probably extra cautious on that day.

She knows this, knows it like she knows the moon will rise the following night, knows it like she knows she'll see Zuko again.

But... but.

It all comes down to a but.

This war needs to end, no matter how many casualties it takes. But that's not right either, isn't it? A war ended through violence is a war never really ended.

And the casualties would be fatal.

But they have the Avatar. From the moment she was born, it had been drilled into her that finding the Avatar was of uttermost importance. With the Avatar, everything could be achieved.

This is how her whole life had looked like: hoping for the Avatar to return.

But the Avatar is a sixteen-year-old kid who likes to play games and run away from his problems.

A sixteen-year-old kid who is currently imprisoned in a brig.

But she can't go against everything she's ever learned growing up, can she? The Water Tribe is her highest priority, it always has been and always will be and nothing can and will ever change that.

("You do not have what it takes to lead a whole nation. You are eighteen, little girl. You do not have what it takes to end a war. Do not be so arrogant as to assume you know better than the people who have fought for a century against the Fire Nation.")

She has to do what's best for her people. And that is leading the tribe into war against the Fire Nation with the Avatar.

Is it?

What would her father do? What would her mother do?

(She already knows what her brother would do, and feels ashamed at the thought of him, though she is not quite sure why.)

They do have a chance. Surely they have one, now that they have the Avatar. Right? Everyone had always told her that growing up, everyone.

If everyone said it, then it couldn't be wrong, right?

(Because if everyone was wrong, then what else is wrong?)

Only that the Avatar is a kid who has only mastered one element and can't even go into the Avatar State.

They're doomed if they go to war and they're doomed if they don't.

What is she supposed to do? They make her choose and she can't do that. Her tribe or her friends, her friends or her tribe. But it's so much more than that, isn't it? It's about the world.

This isn't about her, this is about so much more. The world doesn't care what she thinks and wants, her tribe certainly doesn't. She is their princess and therefore it is her duty to only do what benefits the tribe. And this does benefit them, right? She's brought them what they've been looking for for a century.

She'd struck Sokka down and bowed to Hahn to keep herself an open window. She'd be no good from a prison cell. And now that comes to bite her because she doesn't know what to do.

She'd tried to get Arnook to call this whole thing off, to wait for the day of the comet instead. And in the meantime, she'd try to free Sokka and Aang so that they'd all be able to work on the plan together. Only that that hadn't worked out and she'd had no other choice but to step on the boat and sail towards the Fire Nation if she didn't want to be excluded from the going-ons.

(She's a little girl, eighteen and naive, what does she know of war?)

They're near the Western Air Temple. They need to pass former Air Nomad territory to get to the Fire Nation because Hahn didn't want to take the route through the Earth Kingdom and risk being discovered.

Zuko and Toph should be there. And she's a talented bender. She could jump off this boat and probably make it to the temple without a scratch and not much effort.

She could.

She could also free Aang and Sokka and take them with her because she is no good all alone.

She could.

(She has experienced war firsthand. Has felt what it feels like to be in enemy territory, alone and hungry and scared. Knows what it feels like to speak with people who have lost everything, who give and give and give and never take, take, take. Knows more about war than stuffy nobles sitting in their comfortable palace, sipping wine and eating plums and-)

"I sense some warring currents within you."

Pakku's voice startles her. She'd nearly forgotten he was there. She glances at him, at his long white hair and the firm features set into a face with deep mocha skin. He'd always been a strict teacher and had at first refused to teach her because of her gender. She had won him over in the end and become one of his best students whenever she'd visited the North, but that doesn't erase the fact that he hadn't considered her worthy just because she was a woman. She'd always had her guard up around him.

But he is intelligent, she'll give him that.

"Have you ever..." she begins hesitantly, looking down at her fingers. "Have you ever wondered if some things... just aren't worth it?"

He raises a white eyebrow, his only response.

"I mean... I've traveled a lot these past few months. And I've been to the Fire Nation. And the people there... are just people. Like us." She chances another glance at him. "Don't get me wrong," she quickly adds because being thrown into the brig with her brother and Aang would probably be very awkward, "the Fire Lord needs to be defeated. But... when Hahn and Tulek talk about ending the war, they talk about defeating the Fire Nation. With all its people. And they're not all like the Fire Lord."

He is silent for a long time. Katara feels his gaze on her but refuses to meet his eyes, instead opting to look out over the dark ocean.

"Katara," he says at last, and he'd so rarely used her name that it sounds foreign on his tongue. He levels her with a stare that seems to contain more than what it appears to contain, a still pond that goes deeper than any ocean. "You would do anything for your tribe, would you not?"

She straightens. "Of course I would!" she assures almost indignantly, her eyes narrowing. Does he suspect her of treason? Pakku always knew more than he let on.

"Then would you do something that at first glance goes against everything the tribe ever taught you to do?"

She splutters. "I..."

He holds up a hand. "Don't answer me. Think about it." He turns to walk away, leaving her confused and searching for words. When he is almost at the door that leads below deck, he turns. "I will know when you've come to an answer."

And with that, he leaves her alone.

Katara turns back to the sea, her brows furrowed in confusion. What does he mean by that? The tribe teaches things for a reason, going against that would defy the tribe and its purposes.

Only that the tribe taught her that all Fire Nationals are bad, and that certainly isn't the case.

Only that the tribe taught her that she couldn't learn combat waterbending because she was a girl.

(Had taught her that she is worthless, and she had fought against that and accomplished more than any of them could ever hope to accomplish.)

("You do not have what it takes to lead a whole nation. You are eighteen, little girl. You do not have what it takes to end a war. Do not be so arrogant as to assume you know better than the people who have fought for a century against the Fire Nation-"

No.

Stop that.

She does indeed know better, and how dare they think they can just lock her away and throw away the key? How dare they.)

And she's not alone in this impossible position, is she? Zuko found himself in the same situation years ago. Do what the Fire Nation needs or do what the world needs.

And he'd chosen the world.

He is doing what he is doing, traveling with and teaching the Avatar so that he can save his nation. So that it can heal, even if they don't know it yet. He isn't betraying them, he is still loyal, just in another way.

And isn't that what true duty means? To walk the hard path even if others ridicule you for it?

Her hands relax, losing their tight grip on the railing.

She's not choosing her friends over her tribe. She is not choosing the world over her tribe. She isn't choosing because there is no choice. The best for the tribe is the best for the world.

She knows what she has to do.

(Deep within, something in her stirs. Deep within, something in her uncoils, knots coming loose that kept her restrained her whole life. Deep within, she makes a decision.)

—

So. This is really happening. They're really on their way to the Fire Nation with the eclipse just a few days away. Aang's not sure what Hahn will do with him - force him to fight? Force him into the Avatar State? He almost laughs at that. He wishes he could be forced into the Avatar State. Then he'd have a lot fewer problems.

If it came down to it, he would defend the Water Tribe. Of course he would. He's the Avatar and the Water Tribes haven't tried to take over the world, as opposed to another nation. But it's not like they're really sympathetic to him either, what with the whole wanting-to-use-him-to-destroy-the-Fire-Nation-thing.

He doesn't know where Sokka is but he's pretty sure it's not on this ship. He had only been able to catch a glimpse of his new prison but he's counted many, many Water Tribe ships. And imprisoning them on different ships lowers their chance of escape significantly. He's not sure where Appa is, only hopes that they treat him well. He's glad that Momo stayed behind with Zuko and Toph.

Keeping track of time in this dark hold is pretty easy. He can feel the pull of the moon and the sun and he deduces that it's been four days since they'd started sailing. He wonders where they are now and when they'll reach the Fire Nation.

Hahn came down a few times to talk to him, and Aang had tried his best to talk some sense into him, but for someone of the Water Tribe, Hahn is pretty much the opposite of adaptable. He wonders where Katara is. What she is doing now, if she is even okay. She had betrayed them, yes, but he'd still hate to see her hurt. Maybe she'll even change her mind and come rescue him and Sokka.

But that's only a faint hope while darkness threatens to close in around him. He can't wait for someone else to come and rescue him. He's not a kid, he's the Avatar. He's run away lots of times, but that's gotta stop.

He is on his way to the Fire Nation, to the Fire Lord, and if he doesn't do something now, the world will burn.

And so the Avatar closes his eyes and tries to let go.

—

She steals a sword from the armory and hangs the sheath over her bare back before covering it up with her blue tunic. The outline of the sword is still visible but she hopes the shadows will do their best to conceal it. She's not really sure just where Aang and Sokka and Appa are. The fleet is large. But she's subtly watched the guard rotations and listened in on their conversations and thinks she's figured it out.

They're all held on different ships with Aang in the middle on Hahn's personal warship. That complicates things but she's a master waterbender in the middle of the ocean; she'll be fine. Only that she's not the only waterbender here and that she doesn't really have a plan besides 'get Sokka a weapon and then break them all out' but she does her best not to think about that, lest her headache gets even worse. Sokka is the plan guy, Katara herself has more of a knack for thinking on her feet.

But this can't fail because if it does - nope. Not thinking about that. Just doing.

She waits until no one is in sight on the deck before diving straight into the water, hoping that no one hears the splash. She bends a little air bubble around her head and propels herself forward. It's not easy to distinguish the ships from beneath the water line but she thinks she manages to pick out the ship she thinks Sokka is being held on. And this whole plan hinges so much on what she thinks that her stomach does a funny little motion where she suddenly feels sick to her very core.

If this goes wrong... nope.

Peeking out from beneath the sea - it's a calm summer night today, thank La - she swims around the ship until she spots an open porthole. Propelling herself up to it with a torrent of water, she hastily climbs inside. The room she enters isn't empty, a man with grey eyes and blue and white beads in his hair stands up from his desk as he catches sight of her. Not even hesitating, Katara reaches and pulls on his blood, squeezing until he's unconscious.

He won't be out long so she'll have to hurry. She decidedly does not think about how it had felt to bloodbend for the first time in months.

Not sparing him another glance, she peeks out the door and, finding the hallway empty, darts down the hall. The brigs are always on the lower levels of the ship so that is where Sokka will be.

She climbs down Tui knows how many stairs until she reaches a hallway only dimly lit. There's something different here in the air, and a stone falls from her chest. This is definitely the brig.

Doing her best to keep silent, she walks until a bend in the corridor. She peeks around it and quickly darts backward when she sees a big man in furs guard a heavy steel door. From behind her cover, she reaches out with her senses until she can hear his blood singing in her ears, then delivers the same kind of pressure that had knocked the other warrior out. When she hears the telltale klunk of something heavy hitting the floor, she darts around the corner and searches the guard for a key.

She opens the door and steps over the man, wincing a little as the door jostles the man like a ragdoll. But she doesn't have much time to think about that as an arc of water suddenly slices at her. A warning blow.

Katara looks up to find two men in the hallway behind the door watching her, both in bending stances but not attacking.

"Princess," one of them says, sounding wary and just a little surprised. His big eyes shine blue in the dim light of the lanterns.

She cocks her head to the side. "Just so you know, this isn't anything personal. I'm doing this for the tribe's benefit."

She doesn't wait for an answer and strikes. The water flies from her two waterskins to slash at one of the men. He redirects it and then sends it back at her, mixed with his own water, to hit her in the face. She ducks just at the last second, draws the remaining water from her canteens, and directs it at the ground, freezing it so that the other man that comes running for her slips and falls to the ground with a loud groan. She thinks she hears the sound of a bone cracking but doesn't have time to check because the other man is still on his feet and still attacking her.

She makes short work of him, dodging a strike meant for her feet and pushing him into the wall with a gust of water, freezing him there. Before he has a chance to free himself, she knocks him out with a well-aimed strike to the head. She does the same to the other man slowly getting to his feet and then draws the water around the lock of the cell they'd been guarding, freezing it and waiting to hear the tell-tale sound of the broken mechanism.

When she opens the door, Sokka sits on a pallet in a dark steel room and stares at her with wide eyes.

"Katara?"

She draws the water back into her skins and gestures to the hallway. "Come on, we don't have much time." She produces the sword from under her tunic and throws it at him, trusting his reflexes to catch it.

He unsheathes the sword and stares at it for a second, then looks back up at her.

She feels herself getting impatient. "What are you waiting for? We don't have much time before the guards wake up and sound the alarm, so come on!"

He narrows his eyes but stands. "This isn't just some trick, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Like the stunt you pulled before Hahn. I could have knocked those guards out, you know, and we could have gotten away if you hadn't-"

She makes a sharp gesture to cut him off. "I'll explain later, okay? We don't have time for this. Just... just trust me, okay? I know this is a lot to ask of you right now but we need to work together if we want to get off this ship. Okay?"

They hold their gazes for a moment, or perhaps an eternity. She knows she doesn't deserve his trust or his forgiveness but without it, they'll never make it off this ship and she definitely does not want to know what will happen if they don't. She also doesn't want to know what she will do if she loses Sokka's trust completely.

But to her relief, Sokka steels his jaw and nods. "Okay. Fine. We'll talk about this later. Where's Aang and Appa?"

"I'm pretty sure Aang is-"

"Pretty sure?"

"I couldn't exactly go around and ask Hahn where he's being held! He's suspicious enough already. I think Aang's on the ship in the middle, you know the one with the white and the purple in the sail?"

He nods, looking grim. "Hahn's ship. Makes sense."

"Exactly. I'll go there and free Aang and you'll try to free Appa. Whoever is done sooner comes find the other, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan."

—

With Katara's help, Sokka makes it to the ship where Appa is being held. He wastes no time, doesn't even look back at his sister before he is hurrying down the stairs. A warrior comes to meet him halfway up, and he's out cold in seconds.

Sokka grips the sword a little tighter and sends his mental thanks to Piandao.

Unlike his own cell, the hold where Appa is being kept isn't guarded. Apparently a sky bison isn't classified as dangerous. He smirks internally as he rams the tip of his sword into the lock, thrusting and changing the angle to break it. They don't know yet what Appa can do. But he does.

He hastily opens the heavy steel door when he hears the lock click. Past the door, he finds what he's been looking for.

Appa, bound to the ground with thick ropes in the middle of a big empty room, saddle still on his back. Poor thing.

He closes the door behind him and gets to work.

—

Katara takes the warriors on the deck of Hahn's ship out with one big wave. She hadn't been able to find an open porthole like on the ship before and there was no room to sneak past the guards, so her only option is this. It certainly attracts attention and she would have rather avoided that as this will make everything harder, but if she's lucky, Sokka will be waiting on Appa when she comes out on deck again, this time with Aang in tow.

She freezes a man holding a weapon to the wall and makes her way downstairs. A gust of water sweeps her off her feet, but she uses the momentum and turns, directing the water to throw her attacker against the wall. She still falls onto her backside with a pained groan, but before the other man can attack, she yanks at his blood and he falls to the ground, unconscious.

She can feel her power waning, her muscles becoming exhausted. She hasn't bloodbent in months and now doing it this much is tiring her out. But she doesn't have time for her body's needs, she has an Avatar to find.

Without sparing the unconscious man lying before her or her aching muscles another thought, she stands and hurries further into the ship. She takes out two more guards with precise strikes, all the while wondering where Hahn and Pakku are. Surely they must have heard the commotion by now.

(She wonders what Pakku will say. He's the one who'd given her the advice after all.)

When Katara reaches the door she thinks (hopes) leads to Aang's cell, she ignores her body's protests and reaches out with both hands, preventing the guards standing before the door from moving. She knocks them out and then makes quick work of the lock.

Inside, she finds Aang.

—

In order to unlock this last, final chakra, you need to let go of all worldly possessions. Think of what binds you to this earth, and let go.

Aang thinks of his earthly tethers.

His friends. Sokka, Katara, Toph, Zuko.

His animal companions. Appa, Momo.

But what else? What else is there? He knows there is something else, something else he has to let go of, something even bigger than his friends and animal companions.

Something just out of his reach.

He reaches, reaches, reaches. He strains, strains, strains.

There's gotta be something else, he knows there is. Knows it like he knows he has to breathe to survive, knows it like he knows he is the Avatar.

What binds you to this world? What is something that you cannot let go of?

The guru's voice whispers in his mind and yet it is shouting at the same time.

He thinks as hard as he can, does his best to concentrate. What binds him to this world? What?

An image flutters before his inner eye, of orange and yellow. He feels like he is getting closer, like he is almost there, almost there to open that locked door in the back of his mind, almost -

The slice of metal cuffs falling away.

A hand on his shoulder. A voice in his ear.

"Aang! Aang, wake up! Come on!"

Someone is shaking him none too gently. He opens his eyes abruptly and sends his attacker flying into the wall.

—

Pain.

All she registers is pain.

It lances through the back of her head to her temples, pulsing and throbbing. She thinks she might throw up. All her limbs feel heavy, like they're made of steel and not really hers.

Then there is a voice.

"Katara! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to... Katara!"

She groans and forces her eyes to open. Black spots mar her vision but beyond them, she can make out a face, all fuzzy and blurry before the edges sharpen.

"Aang?"

"Thank the spirits! Katara! I didn't mean to hurt you, seriously, I-"

She holds up a hand, the motion alone costing her more energy than she ever thought possible. With a pained hiss, she forces herself to sit up. "Look, we just need to get out of here." Her voice sounds hollow to her own ears, and there's something hot running down her temple. "Sokka's freeing Appa, so we just need to get to the deck-"

She gets cut off by a voice.

"Well, well, well. I knew I couldn't trust you Southerners."

—

The ropes aren't easy to sever, and it takes far too long to cut through even one. Sokka grits his teeth as he feels his hand cramping up, the muscles in his arm protesting the uncomfortable angle. Appa growls in excitement.

"I know, I know, buddy," he mutters. "Just hold still a little longer and I'll-"

He gets cut off by the sound of boots and swords. Well. Looks like he's got company.

He looks up to see a dozen or so warriors enter the hold, most of them with their swords drawn, one of them in a bending stance.

"Drop your weapon! You're a prisoner of the Water Tribe, you will-"

The warrior doesn't get to finish his speech as Appa sucks in a long breath and exhales a massive gust of air, sending the men tumbling down the hall. Sokka pats one of the bison's furry legs in thanks before doing his best to work even faster on the ropes.

Appa's distraction doesn't last long. The first of the men to right themselves come running into the hold again. Appa can't produce another breath of wind so fast, so Sokka has to dodge strikes from cubs and swords and water all the like.

He swipes at their feet, not wanting to injure his opponents badly. His opponents don't seem to have the same reservations, though. He narrowly misses being stabbed by a sword and uses the momentum of his side-step to turn and kick another one of the warriors in the stomach. He goes flying and takes down two more with his fall.

He tries to lure the other men in front of Appa again but they seem to have caught on, sticking by the bison's side instead where the only danger is Appa's kicking legs.

When one of the warriors takes a swipe at his leg, Sokka jumps and lands on the hilt of the sword, pinning it to the ground. The warrior lets go and backtracks, but Sokka delivers a kick to his knee that forces him to the ground. He quickly spins and exchanges blows with another one before knocking his sword out of his hands.

What he doesn't see is the water whip aimed at the back of his head. He goes down, almost loses the grip on his sword, and only narrowly misses being slashed in the leg. Nausea wells up within him, reminding him of the scarce meals of the past few days, but he ignores it and forces himself to stand before the waterbender has a chance to freeze him to the ground.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Appa kicking another warrior with one of his massive legs, then preparing himself for another gust of air out of his mouth.

The waterbender. He needs to get rid of the waterbender.

He sprints, trying not to make his plan too obvious. The bender follows, striking at him with sharp arcs of water that can cut through flesh like it's rice paper. Sokka dodges, strikes a tendril of water out of the air with his sword, then uses one of his feet to push in front of Appa. The sky bison sucks in the air, then opens his mouth - and the waterbender follows, and Sokka backtracks, and then he hits the wall - and Appa releases a massive gust of air, blasting the waterbender out into the hallway. Sokka presses himself into the wall to not get blown away by the wind, and winces when he hears the sound of a human body hitting steel.

He looks around the room. Aside from himself, a sky bison, and a few unconscious men on the ground, it's empty. He breathes a sigh of relief. "Phew, Appa. We make a good team." He wipes the sweat off his brow, then works on cutting the last of the ropes binding Appa.

The bison groans in relief when he's finally free. "Yeah, I know, buddy," Sokka mutters soothingly. "I know. Now we only gotta find a way out of here and then - oh."

Appa, seemingly uninterested in his commentary, pushes himself off the ground and into the air - and straight into the ceiling. Set into the ceiling are two massive wooden doors, breaking under the weight of a ten-ton flying bison. Sokka ducks as wood splinters rain down on him. Then Appa groans in what he guesses is a command for him to get on, and he obeys, hoisting himself up and gripping the bison's fur while trying to maintain his hold on his sword while the beast takes to the air again.

The smell of ocean salt hits him before he sees stars dotting the inky blue sky above him, but his attention is quickly directed to the massive tendril of water knocking Appa out of the air and to the deck again. They slide until the bison is half laying on the gunwale and half in the water. Sokka has barely time to rub his bruised chin before he realizes that Appa is actually falling.

It's not a long fall, granted, but a fall nonetheless. He barely manages to jump off the bison's side onto the deck before the beast lands in the water with a loud splash. All around him, he can hear shouts, and the ships are now brightly lit with lanterns. So much for stealth. But then again, breaking out a ten-ton bison would never be archived through stealth.

Sokka grips his sword tight, focuses his breathing and gets into a stance as all the warriors on deck close in around him.

—

Ignoring the black spots in her vision and the nausea in her gut, Katara gets up and backs away as she sees Hahn standing in the doorway, blocking the way out. And if Hahn is here, he is definitely not alone.

"Hahn, listen to me," she pleads as she holds up a hand. The mysterious hot liquid continues rolling down the side of her face, although it's really not that mysterious anymore as it hits her lips and she tastes something metallic. "Attacking on the Day of Black Sun would be suicide. You can't win against spirits."

"I'm not interested in your excuses," he says as he comes closer. She backs away for every step that he takes and begins going sideways. He mirrors her until they're circling each other as warriors appear in the hallway behind him, standing at his command. "I'm only interested in punishing traitors to the Water Tribe."

At this, he strikes. She dodges the sword coming for her and slices at him with her water. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Aang engaging the other warriors in a fight.

"A wise old man once told me," she grits out between strikes, "that sometimes, to save the tribe, you have to go against its teachings." She spins, taking out three warriors with a water whip, then turning back to Hahn.

"Then that old man is a fool," he sneers, striking at her legs. She jumps and seizes the opportunity to freeze the ground beneath them. He stumbles, falls to the ground with a grunt, while she lands on one foot and then darts to the side as to not fall herself. She busies herself with fighting the other warriors, internally wondering what Hahn would think of Pakku would he know that he's the wise old man.

Aang has already fought his way up the stairs and she follows. They fight side by side, Aang using mostly air as to not use up her only weapon or set the whole ship on fire. They make a pretty good team, she thinks.

At last, they reach the deck. The fresh ocean breeze hits her along with all the shouts coming from the ships around them. She wonders how Sokka is faring but gets distracted by a water whip aiming straight for her head. She ducks as Aang blasts him off the deck. She spins and is in the process of icing another warrior with a club to the ground as something knocks into the back of her head.

Katara only narrowly avoids falling to the ground, but clutches her head as yet another wave of nausea hits her. She forces the bile in her throat down and focuses on her attacker: Hahn. As expected.

"There is a reason the tribe has its rules," he says, his voice dark and rough and haughty. "But I suppose a little girl like you wouldn't know that."

That gets her. She bears her teeth and lets out a growl while she summons the water from the ocean and blasts it straight at him. Only that he saw her move coming and closes in on her, standing so close that she would hurt herself should she strike at him now with her water. So she kicks him in the gut, hearing his satisfying howl of pain. She lifts a hand, ready to bring down the might of the sea on him, ignoring the blood dripping onto the deck.

But for all that she hates him, she has to admit, he is a cunning fighter. Fast like the wind, he rolls out of the way before jumping to his feet, dodging her strikes. She can feel her vision blackening with every sudden movement, with every spin she has to make to dodge his sword. She is sure that should she stop now, she would throw up.

But Hahn doesn't care about that, only darts away whenever she slashes at him with an arc of water, whenever she tries to freeze him to the deck or get him to stumble. She wishes he would stay still for just a second so that she could take a hold of his blood, but he is lithe on his feet, never stopping, always running.

Out of the corner of her eye, she registers Aang fighting the other warriors. But there's too many, too many. Waterbenders make their way over from the other ships, building bridges of ice to help the non-benders onto Hahn's ship. Her head throbs, the pain sharp and dull at the same time, a metallic taste on her tongue and the disgusting sensation of blood filling her mouth.

"Look at you," Hahn sneers, spinning away from her icicle, "you fight like a firebender."

She does. She knows she does. It's a hard habit to break after months of learning firebending katas, and she doesn't care that Hahn sees, that the entire Northern Water Tribe sees. They have no idea what she's been through, how much she bled and suffered for them only to look down on her.

"I thought I fight like a little girl," she snarls back, unable to contain her aggression. She is tired and every muscle in her body aches and begs her to stop, but she ignores it. The pain only spurs her on. "I'll show you a little girl."

She strikes with the last of her strength, punching in his direction and willing the water to follow the motion. Hahn angles his sword, dissolves most of the blow, but she anticipated that action and uses this moment of distraction to send another blast of water into his side. He tumbles to the ground with a groan but before he can regain the ground under his feet, she seizes hold of his blood.

He looks up at her with wide eyes, looking shocked. He half hangs in her grip, hair falling into his face. Then, his moment of shock is over and he bears his teeth at her. "I've always known you were a savage," he sneers and almost sounds like an animal. "I just didn't know you were a traitor too."

Katara knows she should just get it over with, knock him out or kill him and then help Aang, but she can't tear her eyes away from the icy blue of Hahn's. This man has looked down on her all her life, has always treated her sub-human, like some weak little girl, like some savage.

She should show him how savage she can be.

She should.

But before she can do anything, a gust of wind slams him into the gunwale. She hears the ominous sound of bone cracking, loud in her ears despite all the noise around her, and for a moment, the world stands still.

The angle.

It was the angle.

Had Hahn been in any other angle, he would have - he would have -

But he wasn't. And so his neck collided straight with the unyielding steel of the railing.

Katara is a master waterbender. She is also a healer. When she takes hold of someone's blood, she can feel veins constricting and pumping, the heart beating its steady rhythm.

She can also feel when someone's heart stops beating.

A shout brings her back to reality. "Katara!" She turns to find Aang looking at her, and a thousand thoughts fill her head at the sight of him, yet she can only make out one question in the chaos: Does he know?

"Sokka's in trouble!" He points to the ship she had directed Sokka to, where she can see that her brother is clearly overwhelmed with the sheer number of soldiers fighting him.

Her sight narrows until she can only see him.

"Go help him!" Aang shouts. "I'll be fine!"

She runs and jumps off the ship, pushing all other thoughts out of her mind. Sokka is in trouble and she has to help him. The rest can wait.

—

Not waiting to watch Katara go, Aang turns and sends a wave at a warrior rushing at him with a sword. He doesn't actually want to hurt them but he has no other choice. A gust of air takes care of two other warriors, one of them a bender, but before he can turn, something ices him to the gunwale. He is halfway through unfreezing the ice and sending it back at his attacker, when said attacker holds his hands up and stops a few feet in front of him.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Avatar," he says and makes no move to prevent Aang from freeing himself from his icy confines. "I've come to deliver a message." His long white hair flows behind him, unruly and yet somehow still looking elegant.

"Who are you?" Aang demands, sliding into a stance and keeping an eye out for potential attacks.

"I am Master Pakku," the man replies, as calm as if he were having a tea party. "I know you, Sokka and Katara don't agree with Hahn. You are not the only ones who hold that opinion."

Aang, momentarily taken aback, lowers his hands before steeling himself and lifting them up again. "What do you mean? How do I know you're not lying?"

"You are acquainted with Iroh, I presume?"

Now that throws him off.

"How do you know Iroh?" He furrows his brow but his muscles aren't as tense as they were before.

"Have you ever heard of the Order of the White Lotus?" Pakku asks, his hands folded behind his back.

Aang nods hesitantly. "He mentioned something of it, yes." Although he's still not actually sure what that is and he has more important things to worry about at the moment. Like getting out of here alive for example.

But Pakku speaks as if this all wouldn't bother him. "Then I am sure you know the Order of the White Lotus is something that transcends nations. By becoming a member, one swears to cede one's loyalty to his nation and act according to the Order's will. And the Order's will does not coincide with the will of Hahn."

He can see men closing in around him and tenses his muscles again, ready to jump at a moment's notice. Is this all just a trick to distract him?

"I've received a letter from Iroh," Pakku continues. "When the time comes, the Water Tribe will be ready to fight at your side." He bows his head, and Aang continues keeping an eye on the men on deck, but they make no move to attack for some reason. Nothing happens for a moment.

Then Pakku meets his eyes again. "I did not know the Avatar was as deaf as a sea slug. Go!"

Aang wastes no time.

—

Katara rides a wave to the ship and then takes out the majority of the warriors from behind before lifting herself up and onto the deck. She kicks at the underside of the knee of a man standing in front of her, sending him tumbling to the ground and losing his grip on his weapon. She freezes another one to the gunwale, then sends another flying into the sea. She redirects blasts of water, using the momentum of her opponents to send it back at them, push and pull. She kicks and she punches and she fights like a firebender while baring her teeth. She seizes blood and knocks its vessel out from within. She sends an icicle straight for a warrior -

And hits Sokka.

For the second time in only a few minutes, the whole world stops spinning.

Her brother. Clutching his stomach where the icicle had hit him. Looking up at her with eyes widened in shock and horror.

She screams.

She runs for him, desperate to catch him as he's falling, to heal him, to help him -

A warrior. In her way. Coming at her with his club.

She growls and seizes hold of him from within, then yanks and hears the sound of bone snapping, sees his eyes roll inward before he falls to the ground, lifeless. She doesn't care who she hurts, she doesn't care how badly she injures the men standing in her way. All that matters is that they are between Sokka and her.

She dimly registers the growl of a bison, the feeling of a sharp blade of air only narrowly missing her temple, of someone else screaming her name. She rushes to Sokka because that's the only thing she can see, her brother, injured, dying -

She quickly summons water to her hands and presses it to the wound, not even registering his hand finding hers. He splutters to say something but there's blood coming out of his mouth, and she can't breathe, and the only thing she can see is the icicle, her icicle, lodged deep in his stomach, killing him.

The world stops spinning and yet it is spinning too fast, too fast and too slow, and she is dizzy, and her whole body feels as cold as ice, and there are spots in her vision preventing her from seeing, from working, from healing, from fixing her mistakes -

A hand on her shoulder.

"Katara, come on! Help me get Sokka on Appa and then we can leave!"

Aang. Appa. The Western Air Temple.

Katara stands, grabbing hold of her brother's arm while Aang grabs the other one. Together, they manage to hive him onto Appa where she begs him to hold on just a bit longer, to be strong, to keep being strong. Tears run down her cheeks and onto his face but she doesn't care, this is her doing, her mistake.

Her stomach turns itself upside down as the bison takes to the air and she has to press her lips together to keep from throwing up. Aang is sending a sharp blade of air at a waterbender trying to take Appa down, and then there is another one that Aang isn't seeing, and Katara sees red.

She brings up her arms with a scream, takes hold of the sea, and brings down the wrath of the ocean upon the ship. A massive wave sweeps the soldiers off the deck but in the split second before that happens, something flies through the air with a sharp hiss, and then Appa groans in pain and sacks lower.

"What happened?" she screams, frantically trying to find out what's wrong.

"I think they hit Appa with a poisoned dart or something!" Aang yells back and then leans forward to look into Appa's eyes. "I know it hurts, buddy, but you gotta be strong. You can do this okay? Just a few more minutes of flying and we'll be out of the danger zone, just a few more minutes!"

The bison groans but they're gaining height again, getting away from the ship. Katara wastes no time and hurries to her brother from where he is still lying in the saddle, looking up at the sky with wide eyes.

"This will hurt," she warns him before removing the icicle from his stomach. He screams, his teeth stained red from the blood, and she hurriedly presses her water-coated hands to the wound. She hisses as a fraction of his pain hits her, and prays that she's not too late, not too weak, not too out of practice. The water glows but the color does nothing to soothe her as blood continues to spill out of the wound, staining his tunic and her hands.

She's not sure how much time passes. Her attention is focused solely on healing Sokka, blending out all the pain and stress from the day. Her focus is only interrupted by a bloody hand gripping hers tightly. "Hey, Katara." She looks up. His voice is still weak, but he has stopped bleeding and the strength of his grip on her hand is a good sign. "I think I'll be fine."

She can't even bring up the energy to smile or wrap her arms around him in relief. The only thing she can manage is a weak nod before black fills her vision and she passes out.

Notes:

Oops. Sorry Sokka.

Chapter 28: Twenty-Seven

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The fire casts dancing shadows on the wall of the cave, illuminating Katara's sleeping form from where she lays on one of Appa's legs, and Aang's thoughtful face, staring into the fire. Sokka groans a little as he shifts from where he's seated opposite the Avatar, the wound on his stomach mostly healed but still tender and painful. It would take a few sessions to completely heal him, and he's not sure if he'll come out of this without a scar.

In the Water Tribes, scars are a sign of honor. A sign of strength, of endurance. But he's not sure what this scar would symbolize. A betrayal? A mistake?

Maybe someone finally getting back to their senses and doing the right thing. But then again, it's not that easy. He can't just forget what Katara did at the North Pole just because she broke them out.

Without her betrayal, they wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place.

He looks around, looks to the mouth of the cave where he can see the wide and dark shadows of the plants concealing the entrance. They'd flown to the east of the Air Nomad territory and made camp on a smaller island as to not lead Hahn and his ships to the Western Air Temple. Ideally they would have flown to the Earth Kingdom to completely throw them off their trail, but Appa didn't have the strength to carry them much further after being hit by a sedative. They only barely avoided crashing into the ocean.

They just have to hope that, if Hahn really does coming looking for them, they reach Zuko and Toph earlier than he and his men.

Sokka had briefly seen him fighting Katara before he'd been distracted by his own fight. He's not sure what happened as Katara still hasn't woken up and probably won't for the next few hours, but it can't have been good. He knows Hahn. Which means he also knows that he and Katara have both been proclaimed traitors by now.

He wonders what his father would think of him now. His own son, a traitor. The feeling is nothing new. He knew from the moment he decided to take Aang to the Earth Kingdom and not back to the South Pole that his actions would not be looked upon favorably. But now it's official, and therefore much more real.

But he's not really a traitor, is he? He isn't collaborating with the Fire Nation, he isn't selling out the tribe's secrets. He is helping the Avatar in a way which goes against the Water Tribe's plans. Which isn't fully treason, right? He is still trying to save the world and that includes the Water Tribes.

His hands come up to rub at his temples from where pain has been radiating the whole night. Suppressing a sigh, he looks at Aang. "You okay?"

Aang looks up, grey eyes dark in the firelight. "Yeah. I'm okay. You?"

Sokka nods. "Too."

The silence stretches out between them and it's an uncomfortable and tense thing. Aang breaks it at last. "You think Katara will be okay, too?"

Sokka looks at her, her form small and tiny and looking like his little sister and not the fierce warrior he's seen today. But then again, those two are one and the same, are they not? He still finds it hard to understand her, to really understand her. To see all the ice walls she'd built up in his absence, to see the way Tulek and Hama and all the others had twisted her up inside.

"I don't know." He sighs. "That's something only she can decide."

—

It's early afternoon when Zuko hears the sound of a bison groaning. He follows the sound and comes to a landing platform, Toph and a flying lemur hot on his heels, right in time to see Appa landing and figures jumping down from the saddle. An instinctive smile forms on his lips as he sees Katara's blue form, but it doesn't hold long as she immediately darts to the edge of the platform to retch.

"Oof," Toph huffs next to him while Momo immediately makes his way to Aang's shoulders, "way to go Sugar Queen."

"Still that bad?" Zuko can hear Aang asking as he hurries to her to hold her hair from her face. He looks up at Aang and Sokka with a raised eyebrow. "What happened?"

The two exchange a look that doesn't bode well. "A lot," Sokka answers. "Katara hit her head really hard." At that, Aang's hand sheepishly comes up to the back of his neck. Zuko narrows his eyes. "You hurt her?"

"Not intentionally!"

"It wasn't his fault," Katara speaks up, apparently being done with emptying her stomach's contents. "I startled him while he was meditating. It was instinct. I deserved it anyway." Before he can ask her what she means with that, she stands up and wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. "You haven't seen any ships off the coast by chance?"

Toph snorts. "Even I know that you can't see the coast from here. Getting here was hard enough, I'm not making that climb again just to stare at water."

"And the boat you took to come here? Did you conceal it?" Sokka asks.

"Yes," Zuko replies, his suspicion rising. "Why?" He looks from Sokka to Aang to Katara, all sharing glances with each other. Something here is not right. Toph beats him to it.

"I can feel your heartbeats, idiots. Out with it."

A beat.

Two.

Then: "Let's just say that everything that could go wrong... did go wrong," Sokka says, stealing a glance at Katara that makes unease swell up in Zuko's stomach. "Hahn was a total ass," Sokka continues, "and decided to imprison us. Or at least me and Aang." He looks to Katara, waiting for her to tell the rest of the story.

She folds her arms over her chest, a protective gesture that makes her look small, and Zuko has to suppress the urge to go and hug her and never let her go. "I... kinda faked to betray Aang and Sokka to stay out of prison," she says, her voice a quiet but sharp thing. "I figured I could do more for them from the outside."

"Only that we didn't know that at the time," Sokka interjects, acid in his tone.

"And I didn't know it either." She holds her brother's gaze for a moment like she is trying to communicate something to him. After a few seconds, she takes a deep breath and continues. "I wasn't sure where my loyalties lied. At least not fully, I… I was unsure." And her voice is louder now, and just as sharp, like she is trying to make up for something, like she is using it as a shield to protect herself. He can see her fists clenched from where they're digging into her ribs, her knuckles white. But she still refuses to meet his gaze. "Hahn found out about the eclipse and wanted to invade with the Avatar's help. I went to Arnook - the former chieftain - and tried to talk him out of it but it just wasn't happening. So I broke Sokka, Appa and Aang out of the brig and then we came here."

Something tells him that there is so much more to the tale, but the way her jaw hardens and her gaze resolutely remains trained on the ground tells him not to ask. He'll hear the details later.

"So now you're officially traitors?" Toph wants to know, insensitive as ever.

"Yeah," Katara confirms. "I guess we are."

"Cool."

"Actually," Aang speaks up, "I wouldn't be so sure about that. This Master Pakku talked to me while you were helping Sokka," he elaborates as all eyes turn to him, "and his men weren't attacking me."

Grey eyes find golden ones. "He said that he knew your uncle and that he got a letter from him and that the Water Tribe will be ready to fight when the time comes because apparently not everyone is loyal to Hahn and Tulek. So I guess we did kinda succeed?"

"Why couldn't you say that earlier?" Sokka demands with an incredulous look. "You could have spared me a headache with that!"

Aang looks sheepish. "Well, I didn't wanna tell it twice. And we were busy finding the temple, so..."

"He has a point." Toph snorts in amusement.

Katara is suspiciously silent, a frown on her face. While the others bicker, Zuko steps closer to her and places a warm hand on her shoulder. She startles and then looks at him with widened eyes. "Are you okay?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over the blue fabric of her tunic. He wants to hold her and kiss away the frown on her face, but he knows that will have to wait until they're alone.

"Yeah, I'm..." She can't quite meet his eyes. "I just need to be alone." And with that, she leaves for the interior of the temple.

"Katara seems to be in a pretty rough state," Toph comments as he turns back to the other three.

"Yeah, well," Sokka answers, watching her go, "she's got a lot to work out."

—

Katara paces the room she has claimed as her own. And paces. And paces. She hadn't managed to look Zuko in the eye, not after what she's done. She knows she did the right thing in the end, she freed Appa and Sokka and Aang but without her betrayal, they never would have been in this situation in the first place.

At least it wasn't all in vain. They have the North Pole's support now and if Pakku is right - which he usually is -, the South Pole's, too. Not everyone is loyal to Tulek, he had said.

It also explains a great deal about Pakku's mysterious behavior. He had counted on her prison break. She's not sure what would have happened had she not come to her senses, but it's good to know that he thinks the same as her. At least the Water Tribes are safe now. Well, not safe, Ozai still plans to burn them to ashes, but at least they're not risking their lives on a suicide mission. Although, attacking on the day of the comet could count as one too.

But she's not thinking about that.

The back of her head still throbs and flying on Appa earlier had been too much for her stomach. But she welcomes the pain. It's something she deserves, a punishment she can relish in. Every time she looks at Sokka and sees him wince a little or sees the thin spots on Appa's back where his saddle hadn't been taken off in days, guilt surges up inside her, a wave so high it nearly drowns her.

She knows Zuko wants to talk. She's aware of his concerned and questioning gaze, and he deserves to know everything, every little detail. But she's not ready yet, not ready to face him or any of them.

Her rational mind tells her he's probably the one who would understand her the most. After all, he'd been in quite a similar situation once, and will find himself in it again on the day of the comet.

But still.

Something whispers to her what if he can't understand? What if he won't forgive you?

She stops. Closes her eyes, presses them so tightly shut that it nearly hurts. That won't happen. She knows it won't. This is just her anxiety and guilt talking. She did the right thing in the end and they all made it out mostly unscathed.

But that still doesn't mean she's ready to look him in the eyes again.

And that's okay. She sees the way Sokka looks at her, has heard the bitterness in his tone earlier. He hasn't quite forgiven her. Aang seems to be on the fence about it and Toph seems to make no big deal out of it, but Sokka is her brother. She needs to fix this.

But not now. She'll give him time. She'll give them all time, herself included. They'll be fine.

That unfortunately doesn't solve the issue with Aang, though. He had been the one to kill Hahn. He hadn't meant to, and he hadn't even registered it, but that doesn't change the fact that his gust of wind had caused Hahn's neck to break. Granted, Katara had held him at an angle where that was inevitable. She had played her part in it. But the one to deliver the killing blow was still Aang.

And she hates herself for it but she can't feel sad about Hahn's death. He wasn't a good leader, impulsive and arrogant and condescending and unbending in his stubbornness. She only feels sad for Yue, but then again, Yue never really seemed to love him, so maybe it's a kindness to her.

She wonders what happens with the Northern Water Tribe now that their leader is dead. Hahn and Yue have no children, so who is in charge now? Arnook again? Maybe Pakku? Probably Pakku, he had seemed quite intent on carrying out his own will from what Aang had told her.

It's probably a good thing that Hahn is dead. It makes things easier.

The low angle of the sun catches her eye, reminding her that it's time for supper. Her stomach grumbles in agreement, even though she knows she won't be able to keep much down. She should also probably find Sokka for another healing session.

But when she finds her way through all the confusing hallways, voices coming from the platform stop her in her tracks.

"So she really betrayed you? Like struck you down in front of Hahn?" Toph. That's Toph's voice.

"Yeah." Sokka. "Literally. I was fighting back against the guards and then she iced me to the ground."

"She did have a point, though." Toph again. "She could do more from outside the prison than inside. If she hadn't pulled that stunt, you'd all still be on your way to the Fire Nation."

"And I recognize that, but it's the fact that freeing us wasn't her first intention that gets me."

"Understandable."

"But she did change her mind." Aang this time. "She freed us and fought her own people and now we're here and have the Water Tribe's support. That's all that matters in the end, isn't it?"

"It's not that easy." A raspy voice. Zuko. Her heart clenches. "It's not always actions that matter, but intentions."

"Yeah, and she decided to free us."

It hurts her heart that her staunchest supporter seems to be Aang, and that she still hasn't told him about what actually happened on that ship. She's not even sure if she should tell him. But then again, he is the Avatar and they're in a war. There is no time for coddling. And if it helps him prepare for what he'll have to do to Ozai...

"But for a few days, she was on the fence about it," Toph argues. "I mean, she came to her senses in the end, but if I had a sibling, I'd be hurt. Snoozles has a point."

"And so does Aang." The weight on her shoulders seems just a bit lighter at Zuko's voice. "Choosing between what is right and what is your duty can be... hard. It took me years to see that the way my family treated me was wrong, that the way the Fire Nation treated the world was wrong. It seems obvious to others but when you're in the thick of it..."

"Exactly," Aang agrees. "And I did slam her into a wall. That's still gotta hurt."

A snort at that, but she's not sure from whom.

At last, Toph speaks. "So I guess we can all agree that Katara has had a rough couple of days and probably wants some alone time to sulk. Right?"

Mumbled agreements from the others. Someone - probably Toph - claps their hands. "Great! Then it's settled. And someone should go make some dinner, Sparky's cooking skills are awful."

"No, they're not!"

"You just say that 'cause you burned your taste buds back in the Fire Nation."

"Hey, between us we only have one working eye! You can't expect me to make a good meal with that."

"So you admit that you can't cook?"

They break out into bickering and Katara decides to retreat. She's glad that no one in the group seems to hate her, and she's glad that Aang has seemed to have forgiven her. She'll still have to talk with Sokka, though, and she's also not quite sure what to expect from Zuko.

She's also glad that Toph hasn't decided to snitch on her presence.

—

"You know you don't have to do this all alone." She's in the process of cleaning bowls and chopsticks at the fountain outside when she hears his voice. Katara chances a glance at him when Zuko comes up beside her, but doesn't stop in her work.

"It's fine," she says, shrugging and not taking her eyes off her hands. She almost can't see the scars when her hands are underwater.

For a moment, he doesn't say anything and if she wouldn't know him better, she'd think he'd leave it at that. But she does know him better and so she expects his next words.

"Are you, though?"

Part of her wants to yell at him to leave her alone, to give her time. To let her sulk. But self-pity has never brought anyone anywhere. Besides, they have a steadily approaching deadline to meet. It wouldn't do to go into battle in a bad mood. And she knows he only wants to help her. That he only wants the best for her.

So she only sighs, looking up from her work, although she can't quite meet his gaze. "I will be."

She goes back to her scrubbing, the ceramic of the bowls smooth against her fingers. Beside her, Zuko wordlessly takes one of the bowls on the fountain rim and starts getting his own hands wet.

It feels kind of strange to be doing this with him now. It feels so... domestic. Like they're just a normal couple doing dishes together. Like there isn't a war to be fought.

Heat rushes to her cheeks when she remembers the last time they'd been alone. That was only a bit more than a week ago, but it feels like a lifetime now. The days at the North Pole had seemed to stretch on forever, and that not only because of the always shining sun.

She wonders what Pakku would think, would he know she had given herself to a firebender. She's not sure how it is in the Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom, but such things are important in the Water Tribes. She quickly banishes the thought. They don't deserve to judge her.

"I know it's hard, choosing between duty and family," Zuko says, snapping her back to reality. "I struggled with that myself for so long." He looks at her then, really looks at her, and his eyes seem to be shining in the sunlight. Katara finds herself unable to look away. "But the fact is that you made your choice. And you made the right one."

"I thought intentions matter, too," she almost snarls, and she's not sure why anger swells up inside her at that, but it does. She feels the walls she's built growing, guarding her, defending her. She doesn't care that she's effectively admitting that she listened in on his conversation yesterday.

He frowns at her. "They do. But we all have things that we want. You shouldn't blame yourself for that. It's only human."

"It doesn't matter what I want. The world is more important." She focuses her attention back on her washing, scrubbing the already clean ceramic with renewed vigor, not caring about the way her wrists begin to ache from the angle or how her fingers catch at the sharp edges. She can feel him watching her intently, but doesn't do him the courtesy of acknowledging him.

Because yes, of course there are things that she wants. Like he said, she's human. She has feelings too, and she isn't someone to be used to interrogate and kill enemy soldiers, to be sent to recover a missing prince and then expected to be grateful for the brief freedom she had. Freedom that she only got denied because of something others deemed shameful about her.

But she can't change who she is, no matter how much she wants to. The fact remains that she is a princess of the Water Tribes, and that means that she has to do what she can to help her tribe. The people deserve it. They've endured war for a long hundred years, have held each other together in times of absolute darkness. They didn't choose her and she didn't choose this life and that means that she has to give it her all, that she has to do the best job she can to make it all worthwhile. To protect her people.

She knows she is doing all that she can now. She is training the Avatar, preparing him to fight the Fire Lord. On the day of the comet, she will fight until her last breath to end a century of tyranny, to end the war that continues to bleed her people dry. Only this way can she help and make a true difference. A difference that can be felt, be seen, be heard. A difference that matters.

But she still feels guilty for getting her own brother imprisoned. For getting the Avatar imprisoned. She's not sure what would have happened had they reached the Fire Nation and the Fire Lord, but there is a chance that Aang wouldn't have survived that fight. That Sokka wouldn't have survived.

She almost got the last hope to end this war killed. She almost squashed every chance that the Water Tribes could survive, that this war would end. All that only because she wanted to belong. Because she wanted to be the perfect princess for her people. Because she got blinded by the sweet nostalgia of snowballs and evenings spent as a family before the hearth.

(Because she thought her own brother abandoned her and she couldn't stand the pain of seeing him happy with his new, chosen family.)

And she'd almost gotten her own brother killed. Twice.

It doesn't matter what she wants. There are things she has to do, and she can't afford to be blinded by her own needs and wants. She is merely one person. The world is more important.

So when she sees Zuko give her that concerned look, when she feels his hovering presence near her, she wants to tell him to stop. To go and focus on other matters, to go and train or prepare Aang for the day of the comet. To go over battle plans with Sokka, to go think about what happens after the war. Anything but her. She doesn't want his pity. It only makes it harder for her to do what is necessary.

But it's never been that easy with him, has it?

"Of course it matters," he insists. "You're only a person. You don't have to save the world alone."

"No, but it would be a lot easier to do that without you throwing me a pity party," Katara bites back. She's lost count of how many minutes she's spent scrubbing the same bowl and then immediately gets irritated with herself because she is wasting time. She could have been done with the dishes by now and moved on to something more productive.

"Is that what you think this is?" And there is a sharp undertone in his voice now, and she's not sure if she should be annoyed with him for snapping at her when she only wants to be useful, or if she should welcome it because it's better than the pity he gave her before. Anything is better than that. "That I'm pitying you because you think I feel sorry for you?"

"That's how it usually works, but I don't know. You tell me."

He snorts and shakes his head. "I thought you knew me better than that by now. This isn't pity, this is me trying to help you. Because that's what people do when they care about each other. And I do care, Katara, I..." He trails off, searching for words. He averts his eyes and racks a hand through his shaggy hair. "Look," he settles on at last. "I'm only saying that I know what it's like to be in your situation. And when I hit my lowest point, I would have been glad to not be alone. Don't get me wrong, I needed to work my issues out by myself. But it's not wrong to have someone to lend you a shoulder when you need it. Feelings are part of the process. I didn't want to accept it at first because I'd been taught that feelings make you weak. But you know what? They don't. Accepting and embracing those feelings and doing what you think is right is what makes you strong. And I know you are. And I know you're doing the right thing, Katara. We all know that."

He stands up but doesn't turn to leave. Instead, he looks down at her. She can feel his burning gaze on the back of her neck, a prickling sensation that stretches all the way down to her spine. She's not sure if she should hate it, but she doesn't. It makes her stomach flutter and her hands cramp in their tight grip.

"I know that you need your space," Zuko continues, hands held loosely at his side. "And I'm giving you that. But if you ever need that shoulder, I'll be there."

And with that, he turns and leaves.

—

Katara doesn't sleep. No, she goes through all the katas she knows, including water - and firebending, she paces, she combs her hair twice, she meditates - or at least tries to meditate -, she tries to reach out with her senses to feel all the others around her but then immediately drops her hold, she watches the moon, she paces some more, she tries two more hairstyles before giving up and just letting her hair fall free, and then she goes through some more katas, trying to imagine how she could modify them for close combat.

She does all that because she knows the second she closes her eyes and falls asleep, she will see Sokka's shocked face staring up at her, with blood staining his teeth and his blue eyes rolling into the back of his head. She will see him fall to the ground and she will be too late to reach him, fighting her way through dozens of enemies until she can kneel by his side. But he will already be dead by then, his lifeless eyes full of hurt and betrayal staring up at her. Killed by his own sister.

She will see Aang kill Hahn. She will see Aang be consumed by flames, be impaired by icicles, blood running from his mouth and staining the snow red.

She will see herself standing on a boat, drowning her own friends.

One night full of these dreams had been enough. So she simply doesn't give her mind the chance to conjure them anew. She knows it's only a temporary solution; she can't avoid sleep forever. But the problem is too big to tackle and so she simply deals with it the best way she can.

She could go to Zuko. He'd welcome her. She could go curl up next to him and feel his arms around her and his warmth pressed against her. But there's this restless energy inside her that doesn't allow her to sit still. She needs to move, she needs to do something.

She is mid-kick when her door is shoved open and a small figure stands in the doorway, looking none too pleased.

"Okay, Ice Queen. Out with it." Toph's hair is all unruly and wild, standing up in all possible directions. There is a determined look on her face, something grim and hard.

Katara lowers her leg from where it had been hovering in the air. "What?"

Toph slams the door shut and Katara winces internally, hoping the noise in the otherwise quiet temple didn't wake anyone.

"Your room's right next to mine and I can't sleep when you behave like some sparrowkeet." She makes herself at home on Katara's bed, sitting on the edge without a second of hesitation. "So out with it. What's on your mind?"

Katara is too stunned to answer for a moment. Then she blinks, shakes her head and runs a hand over her face until it lands in her hair. "Since when do you do feelings?"

Toph snorts. "Since it's become practical. You won't stop with whatever it is you're doing until you've talked about it. I know how you are. So..." She makes an open gesture with her arms. "Here I am. Ready to listen." She places her hands on her knees and waits, staring at a spot just over Katara's shoulder.

Katara crosses her arms over her chest. "Maybe you could help me with some sparring. You know, tire me out." Even though she really doesn't want to risk falling asleep, a good sparring match sounds good. Something to take her mind off things.

Another snort. "Oh trust me, I'd love the opportunity to utterly trounce you, but it's the middle of the night and even I don't have the energy for that right now. Besides, it wouldn't solve anything. Your skull is too thick to pound some sense into. But maybe I should try that with Twinkletoes some time, a good concussion to set someone straight has never hurt anyone..."

Katara winces at that but doesn't bother with a comment. Instead, she only sighs and tightens her grip on her arms. "I..." Finding words is suddenly surprisingly hard. "Uhm... well, I don't really know how to begin, so..."

"You feel guilty for what happened at the North Pole."

She nods. Lets out a nervous sigh. "Correct, yes."

"Shocking."

She angles her head and glares. "If you're just here to make fun of me-"

"I'm not. But jeez, you gotta stop being this sensitive. And you did take a pretty big risk there, so it's not like you don't deserve it."

"Way to make me feel better. Thanks Toph, I feel so much better now."

Toph clasps her hands together, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the silent temple. "I said I was gonna hear you out, not coddle you," she reminds her. "Go to Twinkletoes for that. Either take what you can get or leave it."

"Technically, I didn't take anything, you forced me into it."

"Eh, same thing." She shrugs. "So? Did that tongue of yours loosen up or do you need help with that?"

Katara scoffs and closes her eyes for a second, not believing the audacity that some people have. Then again, it's Toph. She really should know better when it comes to the earthbender.

"I..."

"I'm waiting."

"Spirits, give me a second." She runs her hands through her hair one last time, takes a deep breath, and then begins.

"I feel guilty about the North Pole, yes. I feel guilty about almost getting Sokka and Aang killed just because of something I wanted. Just because I couldn't see the difference between what I want and what the world needs. I have a duty to my people but the best way to help them is to train the Avatar so that this war can finally end. And I... I didn't see that, no, I thought the best thing to do for them is to bring them the Avatar. Because I couldn't see that their plan wouldn't work. Or I did, but I deluded myself into thinking it would because that's what I'm good at apparently, deluding myself into believing stuff I shouldn't because it's easier."

"But that's not all, is it?" Toph asks after a second of silence.

Katara shakes her head. La, this is surprisingly hard. Baring her soul has always been something she's been afraid of, so she simply didn't do it after her parents died and Sokka left. It was easier that way. Now, though...

She leans against the wall and sinks down onto the floor. The stone is cool against her back, almost calming.

"I'm angry because they wouldn't let me be helpful, really helpful, for years. I was stuck doing the dirty work and then looked at like I was a monster. Just because of something they thought made me lesser, made me not able to help. And now that I finally get the chance to be useful, I waste it on... on almost getting my brother and the Avatar killed. It makes me feel like-"

"Like all their expectations about you are true?" Toph finishes for her, her arms intertwined behind her head. She still has that calm and collected look on her face, but there is something else there now. Something darker, something bitter. "Yeah," she spits. "I know all too well about that."

Katara raises an eyebrow. "Care to share?"

"Nah. This isn't about me, Sweetness."

"Toph Beifong turning down the spotlight for once? I am shocked."

"Don't change the topic, Ice Queen. I get my time to shine every day. The same can't be said about you."

Katara scoffs but doesn't comment on that. Instead, she gathers her thoughts for a second. Surprisingly, the words come easier now. They feel less forced.

"I just want to be helpful. I just want to help my tribe, my... my family." Because this is what this is, isn't it? Her family? Sokka, Aang, Toph, Zuko. They've seen her at her worst. Maybe not her best yet and maybe they never will if she doesn't get it together, but they've seen her at her worst and still stuck around. Still tried to get her out of the dark place that is her mind and her tribe's expectations. "I don't want to sit around any longer and be in the way, I want to do things. I want to end this war."

Toph shifts on the bed. "And you're doing that. You've been doing that for months now, even if you were a little difficult at first."

"A little?"

A scoff. "You were a bitch. It was kinda funny, though."

"Thanks so much."

"Always glad to be of help." Her expression sobers and she leans forward, putting her hands on her knees. "Look, the way I see it, you're too hard on yourself. And I get that, we all have high expectations for ourselves, we all want to do great things. I am the best earthbender in the world after all." She grins, before turning serious again. "But you know what? Perfection is overrated. A big wall is still impressive, even if it has some cracks and some weird edges to it."

"But what if the cracks cause it to come tumbling down?"

"Then you build it new. Or fix the cracks before that can happen. Doesn't matter, what counts is that you try your best. And you are doing that. There were some low points but you're over that now. So I wouldn't stress myself. You're doing all you can and that is enough, even if it's hard to accept at first. You're a bit of a workaholic, you know."

Katara huffs. Oh yeah, she knows. "But what if the wall crashing hurts someone? What then? It's still my fault it happened."

"Sometimes people get hurt. You can't change that, you can only try to learn from your mistakes so that it doesn't happen again." Toph shrugs.

"But-"

"But you're overthinking this. You feel guilty, you feel like you've failed. People got hurt, yes, but Sokka and Aang are big boys. They can take care of themselves. What matters is that it doesn't happen again, and I don't think it will."

Katara thinks back to the ship. To her impaling Sokka, to Aang pushing Hahn against the railing with a gust of wind.

To Hahn's neck breaking.

"Oh oh." Toph's voice interrupts her thoughts. "Your heartbeat's going crazy."

Katara bites her lip, closes her eyes for a second. Lets out a deep breath. She feels like she shouldn't tell Toph this secret because Aang doesn't even know, and of all people, he should know. But then again, it's Toph. Toph can keep a secret. And lying to her would be pointless.

It's not like she has the guts to tell Aang, anyway.

(But this is just another weakness, isn't it? To tell Toph so she doesn't have to tell Aang. To hope that she doesn't have to break the news to him, to shatter his whole view of himself.)

"It's Aang," she says after letting out a deep breath. "He killed someone on that ship."

Silence.

Heavy silence.

A beat, two, then:

"Oh."

And that's it. Oh. But it voices every thought perfectly, and the expression on Toph's face says it all.

"Yeah. He didn't mean to. It was an accident. And he doesn't know, he didn't have time to... time to see. But I did. And I don't know how to tell him."

Silence again. She can almost see the wheels spinning in Toph's head.

"Well," Toph says at last. "You should. You definitely should. Twinkletoes has this habit of talking the world pretty and running away from his problems, and this is not something he can run from. Not with the comet so close. But... maybe not now. Not here, anyway. It's a temple of pacifism after all."

She hadn't even thought about this aspect. Telling him here, where his ancestors died so brutally, that he broke his people's most sacred custom, his most sacred custom, would destroy him.

She nods, even though Toph can't see it. "Yeah."

And that's all she can muster to say to that.

After a few more seconds in heavy silence, Toph slaps her knees and jumps from the bed. "Well. This has been enlightening, but I think it's time I go back to bed. Gotta be fresh to pound Twinkletoes into the ground tomorrow." She stops before the door, sightless eyes landing on Katara still sitting on the floor with her legs drawn up to her knees. "Talk to Sokka. Trust me, he's more hurt than angry. And talk to Zuko."

"Why would I...?"

She gives her a look. How she manages that without ever having seen it remains a mystery to Katara.

"I can feel everything that's going on in this temple. Or the Sun Warrior's temple for that matter. Everything."

Heat rises in Katara's cheeks. "I-"

Toph holds up her hands. "Look, I don't care. I mean, I do, please don't do that where I can feel it, that's disgusting. But that guy? That guy is so head over heels for you, it's not even funny. I could hear him toss and turn in his bed for hours. It was really annoying. So go and talk to him like you did to me. He just wants to help you."

With that, she turns around and opens the door. She stops when Katara calls out.

"Toph?"

"Huh?"

"Thank you."

A tiny smile appears on her face before the door slams shut.

Katara doesn't sleep for the rest of the night, but she does feel better.

—

The water is warm against his skin and the rain softly plattering on the walls of the temple is a soothing sound. He thinks back to the time he could do more than only hear the rain, could feel it in his soul, the deepest parts of his body, and closes his eyes and imagines he is still in that place. He focuses on his breath, on the way the water in the large tub heats up around him, on the way the stream curls in faint whisks around him, and tries his best to clear his mind of all sorrows and thoughts.

In. And out.

In. And out.

In-

Footsteps.

But he knows those footsteps.

Zuko keeps his eyes closed, his body relaxed.

The footsteps stop softly a few paces behind him, as if their owner isn't sure about what they are going to do next, as if there were a mystery hidden in the rising steam. Then he hears the soft rustle of cloth, of hands working on bindings, of clothes hitting the ground.

And then footsteps again, this time softer, less echoing.

And then someone climbs into the tub with him, presses their bare back against his. The skin is soft against his own.

He keeps his eyes closed.

She doesn't say anything, only plays with the water judging by the way it starts to move around them in unnatural ways.

Then, finally, she speaks.

"I spoke with Toph. She knows."

It takes him a second, but then he chuckles. "Oh, I know. Her comments when we were alone were unbearable."

"Oh. Well... she also told me to talk to you. About..." Katara trails off, as if she doesn't have the guts to voice it out loud. He can hear her take a deep breath to steel herself. "About what happened at the North Pole. And what I feel about it."

"I know what happened at the North Pole. And I know how you feel about it. You don't have to repeat it because you feel like you're morally obligated to do so."

"It's not... it's not that. I want to. I need to. And I know you'll understand, so... I'm here. And I'm doing this. Toph is right. I can't keep suppressing my emotions, we've all seen what that leads to. I... I'm sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I was-"

"Trapped in your own head? Drowning in guilt?" he finishes for her because oh, does he know that feeling. He knows it all too well, has spent years wallowing in it. "Believe me, I know. And I don't blame you. It's a vicious cycle."

He feels her nod against him, her curls tickling the skin on his neck. "I just... I feel like I can finally breathe after years of not being able to, but...it came at a price and I don't know if that price was worth it."

He wants to turn around and look at her. He wants to take her face in his hands, look into her brilliant blue eyes and tell her that no, the price wasn't too high, and that yes, it was definitely worth it if it meant her finally reaching happiness after seemingly endless years of strife.

But he doesn't.

He knows that she'd deny it, that she'd think it selfish because other people got hurt in the process. Because she wasn't perfect. Because she wanted to feel loved.

Because deep down, there is a little girl hurt and lost and alone. Utterly alone. And because she's done her best to bury that little girl, to mask it and sell it as something else. Something colder and far more ruthless.

And because they are both naked. Yeah, that too. They've certainly done... things, but they haven't gone that far yet. He doesn't want to make this vulnerable moment awkward. He wants to make her feel safe.

So he doesn't. Instead, he opens his eyes and stares for a moment at the wall, at the ivy curling its way up to the ceiling.

"You made mistakes," he says after a moment. "Everyone does. That's how we learn, that's-"

"I know," she snaps, her voice echoing off the walls. "I know," she repeats, calmer this time. "I know I'm not perfect. I know I don't have to be. But it's hard to really believe it. Sokka and Aang got hurt, and yes, they're fine now, we got out fine, but still. What if we didn't? What if-"

Now it's his turn to interrupt her. "But you didn't. You keep talking about the what-ifs, and that holds you back. You live in the past when you should live in the present. It is what it is; you can't change that. You're not perfect and you never will be because nobody is. And that's okay. You didn't choose any of this, you were born into it and you had to play a certain role. It's not your fault you didn't realize it was wrong; how could you when that was all you've ever known? I know you want to feel useful. I know you want to do what is best for the world and for your people. And you are doing that and everybody here knows it. Everybody."

"Sokka-"

"Is not mad at you. He is hurt but he understands. We've all had to do things we're not comfortable with; this is war after all. I know you feel like you need to be perfect, like you need to hide the real you, but you don't. Not here. Not anymore. Not with us. It's okay to show your flaws to the world. It's okay to let others see the ugly in you, because then you know who is really on your side."

Katara doesn't say anything for a long moment. She stays so still, only the warmth of her skin and the soft up and down of her breaths remind him of her presence. The playful motions with the water have stopped, it now rests peacefully still around them, enclosing them in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

"What if all the others see is the ugliness?" comes her voice at last. It's a faint whisper, but he hears her perfectly in the almost domestic quietness of the room. "What if there is nothing good to be seen?"

And spirits does he want to turn around and kiss every inch of her body and tell her that sometimes, he looks at her and all he sees is light and laughter and goodness. And that he loves her for it, and that he can also see the parts she struggles with, the need for perfection, the bloodlust, the coldness she was raised to wield like a sword. And that he doesn't love her any less for it; that he loves her more because of it.

He wants to tell her he loves her.

Because never in his twenty years has someone been this vulnerable with him, has opened themselves up to him the way she is doing right now. Never in his twenty years has he felt as seen and accepted by someone as he does by her. Never in his twenty years has he this badly wanted, no, needed to make someone feel the way she makes him feel.

But this isn't about him.

(And isn't it a little scary how natural it feels? How easily he would lay his feelings aside for her, just so that she could be happy? How easy it is to admit that he's falling in love with this woman, and that he doesn't think he can go back from this, withdraw, act like it never happened. Ever. But maybe he doesn't want to.)

(Maybe he doesn't need to.)

"Katara," he begins, and his voice is raspy and throaty and far quieter than he intended it to be. "You are the single most amazing person I have ever met. Remember that fishing village when we were at the Eastern Air Temple? When you found out about the raids your people were conducting? You were still wrapped up in their views, in their belief that they were better than the other nations. But you didn't deny what was happening. You felt guilty instead. You felt bad for these people and you wanted to help them. For the past few days, you have been agonizing over what happened. Do you think someone with no compassion in them would do that? Do you think someone who didn't want to better themselves would spend this much time obsessing over past mistakes? Over the fact that others got hurt? You were valid in your want to feel accepted by your people. Everyone needs someone to love and accept them. That is not a crime. That doesn't make you a bad person; that makes you human. You have been able to step out of your comfort zone and look past your people only. You have been able to fight for the world, for what is right. Trust me when I say this, Katara, because I have spent a lot of time thinking about these things: You are one of the best people I have ever met. Not everyone would have been able to admit they were wrong, to be as selfless as you are. But you did. And that doesn't take away from your goodness, it adds to it."

Silence. The steam still curls softly in the air, the water still feels warm against his skin. He can feel her breathing against him, steady, calm. Contemplating.

Then, the faint sensation of lips on his shoulderblade.

"Thank you."

—

Sokka does not think he will ever get used to water glowing blue and magically sealing wounds. It just defies any laws of logic, no matter how often he's seen it.

He is a logical person, after all.

So he also knows that maybe it's not the healing water that disturbs him, but the hands by which it is wielded.

Hands that he's seen kill. Hands that almost killed him.

He's always had a hard time distinguishing between Katara his little sister and Katara the warrior. He knows they're one and the same. But he also doesn't.

And that's the problem, isn't it?

Every time he takes a step forward and reconciles who his sister really is, something happens and causes him to take two steps backward.

Who is Katara? Who is she really? A warrior, a killer, a healer, a sister. Someone cold and hard and cruel. Someone kind and soothing and vulnerable. A little girl, lost and alone. A woman, independent and strong.

But then again, process isn't linear.

"This should be the last session you'll need," said sister announces after she takes her glowing hands away and directs the water back to the fountain whose edge they're sitting on with a flick of her wrist. "Should sting a bit in the next few days but other than that, you should be fine. Tell me if it hurts more than that, though."

He sees the way she eyes the faint scar on his stomach before he rolls his shirt down. The wound had been deep enough that she hadn't been able to heal it completely.

But scars are a sign of strength, aren't they?

He sees the guilt in her eyes. The way they briefly flicker from his now covered stomach to his face, then back again, then to the side. But she doesn't stand. It looks like she is steeling herself for something.

They haven't talked. Not since that day. He hasn't been hostile to her, no, but he hasn't been friendly either.

What she did is... well, it's hard to forget.

He doesn't think that makes him a bad person.

"Sokka..." Katara begins and oh, so they are doing it. Now.

It's been a long time coming, even though neither of them were sure how to broach the subject, always dancing around each other on tiptoes. Sometimes, the head-on approach is the best one. He's sure Toph would agree wholeheartedly.

"Look. I'm... I'm sorry. And I know a simple apology won't fix what I've done but... it's a start. Right?" Nervous blue eyes meet his, searching. "I spoke with Toph and Zuko and I... well, I learned some things. Okay maybe learned is the wrong word, I realized some things. And I know that I was in the wrong but also... that it wasn't fully my fault?"

She shakes her head. "No, wait, that sounds wrong, sorry..." She presses her eyes tightly shut for a second and shakes her head before opening them again and flattening out her expression. "I grew up with Hama and Tulek. And they... planted some ideas in my head. And I know now that they are wrong, that I can be more than what they've told me. That I can be better than that. But... it took me a long time to realize that. That I don't have to be perfect, that I don't have to be a killer, that I don't have to push myself so hard. That everyone is flawed and that my flaws don't take away from my strengths."

She seems calmer now, gaining confidence with every word she speaks, holding his eyes with hers, something sure and assuring swirling in their ocean depths. "I will apologize for doing what I did at the North Pole. For hurting you with that icicle." And her eyes do not stray to his stomach this time and something dimly in the back of his head screams progress in triumph. "But I will not apologize for who I am. For doing what I thought was right. All I ever wanted was to help. You'll just have to trust me that in the future, I'll stand by your side to end this war."

Silence.

The water lazily slashes around in the fountain, birds chipper outside. He can faintly hear the sounds of earthbending from further into the temple.

Sokka mulls her words over. Rolls them around in his brain, trying to make sense of them.

Which... isn't hard. She'd been clear. Crystal clear.

Progress isn't linear, after all. And nobody is perfect.

So, at last, he nods. "Okay."

Katara waits for a second, then crooks an eyebrow. "That's it? No... I don't know, no more words? I usually can't stop you from talking."

Ah, there is his little sister.

Because she's always been in there, hasn't she? His little sister is a warrior, a fighter. And the warrior is his sister. Has been all along.

He takes her hand in his. "Look, sis" - and she seems to preen at that word - "What you did was... well, it was something more than some insult said in the heat of the moment or stolen food or whatever." Her expression falls. "But," he goes on, "I was never really mad at your betrayal. Okay well, I was. But what I was really mad at - or maybe not mad, maybe more confused and unsure -, is you. Who you are. Because, and I say this as honestly as I can, I'm not sure who you are sometimes. And I know that this is partly my fault, I shouldn't have been away for so long, I shouldn't have left you there alone with Tulek and Hama. And I'm sorry for that, I really am. You know that. And I know that you're strong and independent and all that and a damn good fighter who could totally kick my ass... it's just that..." And here he runs out of words to describe what he means and damnit, not now. He's never been short of things to say before.

"You left me a little girl and came back to find me all grown up?" Katara fills in for him with an expression he's not quite sure how to interpret.

But yeah. That.

He nods.

Her lips curve into a gentle smile. "But I'm here now. And we've got time now to get to know each other better. Truth is, I'm also not sure who I am sometimes. When this whole thing started, I was so mad at you because I thought you chose your new friends over me. And" - she hastily holds up a hand to stop him from interrupting - "I know that you didn't, and that you're sorry for, well, going off on your own and leaving me at the South Pole - which is only partially your fault since you know how they are down there - but I'm working on it. Progress isn't linear after all, right? We just need some time," she says with a shrug. Damn, that phrase really seems to be the order of the day.

"Right," he agrees, because how could he not? She is his sister. It doesn't matter what she does, as long as she comes to her senses afterward, she is still his sister, still his blood. And that will never change. So how could he stay mad at her?

He can't. It's as simple as that.

"So does that mean you'll start cooking dinner again? Because I really am not sure how Zuko hasn't accidentally poisoned us yet."

Katara laughs, the sound echoing off the halls and sounding like music to his ears. He hasn't heard her laugh like that in too long.

"Boys," she says, rolling her eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder. "Always thinking about one thing."

Notes:

See? Told you it would get worse before it gets better.

Has anyone seen the live action yet? Finished it last night and it's a solid 8/10 for me. Some changes I'm not fully on board with and the acting can be a little rough sometimes, but I'm keeping an open mind and viewing this as a sort of AU. There's definitely some interesting possibilities there with how certain events/ character motivations deviate from canon. Besides, the costumes, the set, the special effects, the vibes are all immaculate. More Azula and more Iroh and Zuko scenes? Sign me tf up (and the Agni Kai between Ozai and Zuko was one of the highlights of the season imo.)

Anyways, I think there's like 3 scenes left to write until this fic is finished? There's nothing like writing 5k in a few hours because you're surrounded by people sprouting racist bs. What a coincidence that one of the central themes of this fic (and ATLA in general) is inclusivity and tolerance. It was very cathartic, I gotta say.

Chapter 29: Twenty-Eight

Chapter Text

It's an unremarkable day, really. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the clouds are floating in the sky. It could be any day. It looks like any day.

But Aang knows it isn't.

Today will be a day of bloodshed. Not here. Not in this refuge, in this ancient temple that doesn't feel ancient to him, that feels just as alive as it was a hundred years ago. No one dares to disrupt the quiet that settled into these walls, that carved itself into the very core of this temple.

(Not since that day, a hundred years ago, anyway.)

But in other parts of the world, people will die today. People will be slaughtered, and the rivers will run red with blood. Red like fire. Red like an entire nation. Red like death.

(Some part of him wonders if that's what they deserve. Another part of him, the far bigger part, knows that they don't.)

In another world, another universe, with a different dance to a familiar tune, today would be a day of victory. Of freedom, of finally being able to breathe after a century of suffocation.

In this world, however, it is simply a day of senseless violence. Nothing will be accomplished today. People will give their lives today senselessly, and it will change exactly nothing.

(But then again, all violence is senseless, isn't it?

Isn't it?)

(What justifies violence, and what does not?)

(What is justice?)

He feels it when it arrives. He feels it the exact second it arrives. He's standing in what was once a library, the shelves empty and forgotten. He's looking up at the ceiling, as if he could catch a glimpse of the moon covering the sun through the thick walls and layers upon layers of earth. As if he could catch a glimpse of the burning gaze of the sun that's been scorching the earth for a hundred years being smothered, if just for a few minutes.

It feels like something in him has been snuffed out. Like a spark that has always been inside him has finally died. He hasn't always been aware of it, has trained hard to notice it, but now that he's lost it, the lack of it aches.

Maybe, in another universe, he would have hated that spark. He would have thought it cruel and dangerous. Would have refused to listen to it, to listen to the fire that burns within him.

In this universe, however, he has learned to accept it. To cherish it for the warmth it brings, for the life it can give.

He is the Avatar after all. And the Avatar is a firebender.

He feels a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't startle, and although the hand lacks the warmth it usually gives off, he recognizes it instantly. Or maybe it is because of the lack of warmth that he does.

A hundred years ago, his people had been brutally slaughtered in this very place. Had been burned by flames and suffocated by smoke until their corpses were no longer recognizable.

A hundred years ago, it became impossible for a firebender to become friends with a bender of a different nation.

In another universe, on this day, an airbender would have set his gaze on the Fire Nation and willed it to burn.

In this universe, however, an Avatar sets his gaze on the Fire Nation and wills it to smother.

To breathe.

To release the rotten breath stuck in its lungs and start over.

And so, on this day, in this universe, the Avatar and the Fire Prince stand in a forgotten library in a forgotten temple and pray for the very people that have made this place what it is.

—

The torches on the walls illuminate the bunker while simultaneously casting dark shadows on the walls, and the only sound to be heard is the tapping of long fingernails on metal.

She cannot believe this.

Actually, she can. The last few weeks have been anything but a cakewalk, after all.

But still.

For weeks, Father has ignored her. Ever since she came back from Ember Island, he's acted like she is invisible.

Is this a lesson? Is he a petulant child giving her the silent treatment? Does he expect her to feel scared?

(She'd never admit it, but her mood is always better when she is not around the Fire Lord. It gives her space to breathe.)

(It also leaves her wondering what he is up to. What he is thinking. But then again, she could never read his emotions even when he was talking to her. So maybe this is the lesser evil.)

But still. It is the principle of the matter. Is he waiting for something? For her to slip up? For her to cave in and come to him and beg him to put her to work?

(Is it really a lesson if she doesn't know what she is supposed to learn from it?)

Again, Azula is reminded of a petulant child.

(And isn't that a rather horrifying thought?)

The eclipse is here. It will happen in a matter of minutes. Aside from the day of Sozin's Comet, this is one of the most important days for the Fire Nation. Anything could happen. Anything.

Maybe the Earth Kingdom figured out when the sun would be covered by the moon and plan to attack today. Maybe Zuko and the Avatar will come barging in here today and turn her whole world upside down.

But then again, Zuko knows what will happen today. Just like everyone in the whole nation and every idiot who can read does.

Whatever happens, today will not be an ordinary day.

For exactly eight minutes, Agni will turn its face away from the world, from the nation. For exactly eight minutes, spirits, angered by a century of vandalism and war, empowered by a century of death and bloodshed, will roam the nation and make its rivers run red. They will exact revenge, they will revel in the screams, they will do everything Agni doesn't allow them to do.

Eight minutes isn't long. When compared to a whole century, it isn't even a blink.

But eight minutes can change everything.

Which is why the Fire Lord is currently residing in the deepest and safest bunker the nation has to offer, protected by a protege of guards, ready to lay down their life for their lord and nation.

Which is why Azula is currently residing in the second deepest and safest bunker the nation has to offer. Protected by no guards. Ready to lay down her life for her lord and nation.

That is what is expected of her anyway.

Because of course it is. Father temporarily exiles her from the capital, doesn't speak a word to her when she comes back, doesn't let her sit in on the most important war meetings of the century, and still expects her to be the dutiful daughter he's raised and just lay down her life for him without question; to play the bait while he comfortably waits out the eclipse with so many guards protecting him that he won't even have to move a finger if a spirit manages to get down there.

It's so infuriating she could scream.

She has sacrificed everything to get to where she is, she has dedicated her life to this nation, to this throne. She has only ever worked toward one goal, and she has given it her all.

Is that not enough? What more should she offer? What more should she sacrifice?

(There is nothing more, something whispers in her mind. It will never be enough. You will never be enough.)

(She doesn't have the energy to push that thought away. Not anymore.)

She looks at the columns lining the room. They're made from stone, sturdy and strong. Supporting. Unnoticed for all that they do.

She thinks she can see herself in them. She thinks that one day, she will crumble, just like they do, under the weight of perfection.

(Once you reach the top, there is nowhere else to go.)

And maybe that day is not as far away as she hopes. Maybe that day is sooner than she expected.

She expected a lot of things. To be Father's favorite. To be the nation's golden child, its prodigy. To be the greatest leader in Fire Nation history.

She didn't expect this. She didn't expect to be sidelined because of one mistake, she didn't expect to be forced into obedience and silence, not with her perfection, not with her status. She didn't expect to be forced into playing bait when she is the greatest weapon Father would ever wield.

She didn't expect herself to allow herself to think of Father the way she does. To see the cracks in the mask he keeps up. To see the way he is running the nation, her nation, into the ground.

And maybe this is a test. Everything Father does is calculated, so of course this is a test.

A test Azula doesn't know if she can pass. A test she doesn't know if she wants to pass.

And that scares her.

She can feel Agni's rays weaken even this far underground, she can feel the nausea swelling up inside her at the feel of her inner flame dying, can feel the coldness seeping into her bones, making her feel as if she will never be warm again. She can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and the goosebumps forming on her skin, warning her that there is something otherworldly not far from her, screaming at her to run, to hide.

But all that does not nearly scare her as much as the realization does that she wants Father gone.

This is treason, she tells herself. Treason.

But is it really treason if she only wants what's best for the nation?

The Fire Lord is the nation. What is against the Fire Lord is against the Fire Nation. It's as simple as that.

Except that it is not. Before, she would have left it at that. Before, she would have told herself that over and over again. The Fire Lord is the Fire Nation. To conspire against the Fire Lord is to conspire against the Fire Nation.

Before. When was before? She doesn't know. She honestly does not know. The weeks between her first defeat in the Earth Kingdom and the eclipse seem to blur together in her mind, riddled with little snippets of poisonous thoughts, treasonous thoughts.

Maybe today was the last straw. Maybe the moment she'd been told of her role today - by a servant, no less, a servant - was the last straw.

Maybe she's finally found her spark.

The Fire Lord does not love her. That alone is not a new realization, or a realization at all. She'd always known it, even as a child. So she'd made herself into what she is today - a weapon. But even then, there had always been the urge to make Father see just how useful she can be, how deadly and precise.

A weapon does not feel, everybody knows that.

But Azula does.

And she wants to scream her feelings to the world.

She is not enough. She will never be enough. No matter what she does, Father will never see her greatness, her true greatness. He will never see her true value. He will always underestimate her, because in his mind, there is no one greater than himself.

She will never be his equal.

And that is the one thing she's always wanted and deluded herself into thinking she could get.

No more.

She is Azula. She is more than a simple weapon, and she will be greater than Ozai ever was.

So, no. This is not treason. The Fire Lord is running the Fire Nation into the ground. Ozai is not the Fire Nation.

And Azula is only loyal to the Fire Nation.

—

It takes them only three days to make the flight from the Western Air Temple to the Black Cliffs, the rendezvous point they'd agreed upon before leaving Shu Jing. As they near the cliffs, Sokka can see why they're called what they're called - they're massive. Black stone glaringly stands out against the white sand and blue sky, the cliff face is jagged and rocky, with small stones occasionally tumbling down hundreds of feet. He can also see why Piandao had opted for this spot - the bay is big enough to house several large ships, and also secluded enough to hide them. The proximity to the capital of the Fire Nation is close enough that travel there takes only a few short days but also far away enough that they don't have to fear patrols by the Fire Navy.

He finds it vaguely amusing that the Fire Nation would offer them this perfect spot to plot its takedown.

When they arrive, several Earth Kingdom ships are gathered in the bay, and on the sand they find a maze of green and red tents. It seems like Iroh and Piandao were successful in their pursuit of allies.

They are immediately led to what seems to be the biggest tent in what Sokka thinks is the center of the tent formation - although he can't be sure, what with how massive this whole area is. Iroh and Piandao, having been informed of their arrival by watchmen spotting Appa in the sky, are waiting for them there and, not wanting to waste precious time, immediately get to the point.

"On the day of the comet, it is crucial that we take back Ba Sing Se in the name of the Earth Kingdom," Piandao states, pointing to said city on a map laid sprawled out on a wooden table. Sokka's stomach grumbles; he can feel Katara glancing at him beside him but for once ignores it. He can get food after this meeting. This is war.

"So that in the case that anything goes wrong," the swordmaster goes on, "we have something to fall back on. Besides the poles, Ba Sing Se is the most important stronghold against the Fire Nation. Its population is large enough that, should it come to that, we would have a significant increase in manpower, the walls make it easy to defend, it is big enough that it can sustain itself, which makes it ideal to hold out against sieges" - he glances at Iroh at that, who nods - "and, to our knowledge, it still houses the Earth King. Taking the city will not only signal hope for the rest of the Earth Kingdom, but it will also reinstall its most important authority figure."

"Okay, but we need manpower for that," Sokka speaks up. "It's a big ass city, after all."

"That's why all those lovely people from the Earth Kingdom are here," Iroh explains, taking a sip from his steaming teacup. "They want to take back what is rightfully theirs."

Which sounds good at first, but...

"And what about the Water Tribes?" Katara voices his concern perfectly. "They're the target during the comet. What do we do to save them?"

Iroh and Piandao glance at each other and oh, Sokka decidedly does not like that look.

"About that..." Iroh starts and then opts to take a rather large sip of tea.

"We have exchanged messages with trusted members of the White Lotus in both the Southern and Northern Water Tribe," Piandao explains, "and are expecting representatives to arrive tomorrow."

"So Pakku..." Katara trails off.

"Master Pakku has taken command of the Northern Water Tribe, yes, and, as a member of the White Lotus, is willing to work with us. He is in close communication with Chief Bato of the Southern Water Tribe."

"Chief Bato...?" Sokka exchanges a glance with his sister.

"So does that mean that Tulek..."

"Former Chief Tulek was forced to abdicate his position after Chief Hahn's death. After his unwillingness to cooperate, Master Pakku saw to it that he installed a chief that would work together with the White Lotus, and Bato, second to the late Chief Hakoda, was a good fit to that."

Huh. Well. That was... unexpected. And a little anti-climactic, to be honest. He had never liked Tulek, and he had never liked the control the Northerners had over the Southerners, for which Tulek, born in the North as he was, was a symbol. Sometimes, on lonely nights spent on his ship staring up at the night sky, he'd imagine taking back the South from the North. Overthrowing Tulek, taking his rightful place.

At the time, it had only been a fantasy of course. Not something he could realistically archive without being executed for treason. And now that actually happened. It wasn't Sokka who overthrew him of course, and it happened while he was hundreds and hundreds of miles away, but it happened. Just like that. Long thought-out fantasies archived in a single sentence. And now Bato has the position of chief. Bato, his father's best friend and second in command. Bato, who had been like an uncle to him and Katara. Bato, willing to listen to ideas that are outside the box.

He thinks he can live with this new development.

Which brings him to yet another new development - Hahn's death. When did that happen? Aang told them all of his run-in with Pakku while they were trying to flee the ships and to the Western Air Temple, and they'd all assumed that Pakku had forcefully subdued Hahn. Had he had him executed? Hahn would have never abdicated willingly.

"Wait - Hahn is dead?" Aang arrives at the same conclusion just a fraction of a second later. "When did he die?"

"The night you and your friends escaped from his fleet," comes the answer, and oh.

What.

Aang furrows his brows and looks at Katara while Sokka mentally goes through every action he took that night, trying to find a clue as to when the whole Hahn fiasco happened. He comes up empty, though. He never even saw Hahn that night.

But Katara and Aang did.

And Katara is acting very suspicious right now.

"I know that I saved you from him," Aang is saying, "just before you went to help Sokka. And he was still lying there unconscious when Pakku cornered me and after that I was too busy to pay any attention to him, so... when did that happen? Wait" - and he shifts his attention to Iroh and Piandao - "did Pakku execute him? Because I don't think that-"

"It did not say in the letter," Iroh cuts him off. "It only stated the fact that Hahn was dead, not the reason."

"So he did, right? That's how I imagine someone who just killed someone would word such a letter, so..."

Sokka tunes him out. Katara has hunched in on herself, her shoulders drooping, her eyes staying on the table rather than Aang or Iroh or Piandao. When he nudges her, her eyes only briefly flicker up to him before they go back to the wooden surface.

Oh.

Oh no.

Did she-

But then he sees Toph staring straight at her with an unreadable expression, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Wait, how does she know?

And what does she know exactly?

There's tension in the air, and he's not sure when it started to form but it is there now, and it is palpable. Sokka exchanges a confused look with Zuko, who looks just as lost as Sokka feels.

"Aang." Katara breaks Aang's nervous babbling and stands up abruptly. "We need to talk."

"What-"

"Now."

And then she leaves the tent.

Aang looks at the others gathered around the table for a few seconds longer, only gets a shrug from Zuko, lingers on Toph a few seconds longer because of her uncharacteristically serious expression, and then stands up to follow Katara out of the tent.

Silence.

A beat. Two. Then:

"What was that all about?"

"You'll see soon, Snoozles. Very soon."

He resists the urge to ask what she means by that and how the hell she knows it but then reminds himself that Toph is somehow all-seeing and all-knowing and that whenever there is an issue with Aang, everybody knows. That boy simply does not do subtle.

And then there is that growing feeling in his stomach that tells him that things are far more sinister than previously thought. That somehow Hahn's death and Aang taking him out to save Katara are related.

But Aang doesn't kill. Would never kill, not for anything.

But Aang didn't know that Hahn was dead until a few minutes ago, when he found out with the rest of them. So...

So that carries some implications, alright. Implications he can deal with later, because right now, he has a general and a swordmaster sitting before him, ready to discuss battle plans. He needs to focus. He can think about Aang later.

"So we have the support of the Water Tribes; that's great," he says, breaking the silence that had started to form again. "So have you guys worked out a plan yet how exactly we'll take Ozai and co out?"

"Yes, that..." Iroh starts. "It is not as easy as it may seem."

"Naturally. But we've got plenty of warriors here."

Iroh leans back in his seat. "As I like to say: 'a bat-mouse can be an armadillos-cats biggest enemy.'"

Zuko groans. Sokka stares at Iroh dumbfounded.

"Yeah, because the bat-mouse can fly...?"

"What Master Iroh means by that," Piandao explains, "is that the bigger number is not always the better one. We can still win with a small force, if we play our cards right."

"Sure, but our force isn't small."

"What he means by that," Toph says, "that all these dunderheads you saw out there? They're not here for you. They're here for themselves."

"Precisely, Miss Beifong," Iroh confirms.

"Wait, so they're not actually here to fight my father?" Zuko asks, leaning forwards.

"And what about the Water Tribes?" Sokka adds. "They're gonna be burned to ash if we don't do anything! Ba Sing Se isn't under attack, the poles are!"

"One brave firefly is worth more than twenty unmotivated platypus bears."

"Uncle, could you stop it with the proverbs."

"We have spoken with these people, and the only way they will fight is if it is for their kingdom," Piandao says.

"But they are fighting for their kingdom! By taking down Ozai and Azula so that they don't keep oppressing them!" Zuko protests.

"Zuko," Iroh cautions, "you cannot force anyone to fight for you."

"I'm not, I'm-"

"We have spoken extensively with these people. There are more factors to be accounted for than what you would call cowardice, and we will not force anyone into a situation they are uncomfortable with. Trust me when I say this, there is no way these people will put their lives on the line for two tribes they feel have wronged them over the past century when they could take back their capital city - something we will need every hand we can get for. It is how it is, and there is nothing we can do to change it."

Silence reigns in the tent again, thick and uncomfortable. Zuko stews in the corner, Toph's face is a mix of disdain and aloofness, and Sokka racks his brain for a solution to the problem that has just presented itself.

"So what do we do?" he asks at last because there are two men sitting in front of him who are older than him and have more experience in war than he does, so when he has a chance to ask them something, he takes it. "We're just a bunch of teenagers. Taking down the Fire Lord and Azula will be... tricky."

"You're a master firebender," Zuko says, training his eyes on his uncle. "You'll be able to take on Ozai, right?" And somehow, his tone is a mix of disappointment and hopefulness that Sokka feels deep in his soul because he feels the same. They have the best minds the Fire Nation has to offer on their side. They'll work something out. The only downside is that Azula and Ozai are two other great minds of the Fire Nation. Just a different kind of great.

But Iroh only sighs and shakes his head. "I am afraid I cannot do that. All the world would see is a brother killing a brother; just another power struggle. We need to set a clear sign that what my brother is doing is wrong. That is why we need the Avatar - he is the only one who can take down Ozai if we want to have a chance at peace. Otherwise, the war will go on and the Fire Nation will erupt into civil war."

Which would make the situation only worse, Sokka understands. Ozai's death needs to be the symbol for the end of the war, otherwise they will still sit here in another hundred years and discuss how to end things. The war will need to end on the day of the comet, or it will not end at all.

That doesn't stop his stomach from falling, though. Iroh is a master. Iroh is a general. Iroh is safe. Iroh is reliable. Aang... not so much. He loves the boy like his little brother, he really does, but Aang has some flaws and some beliefs and... well, he's not sure he'll be able to do what is necessary when the time comes.

Zuko across from him seems to come to the same conclusion, judging by the way his shoulders droop and the unenthusiastic way he nods his head in understanding.

"So if Aang gets Ozai, who gets Azula?" Toph wants to know, seemingly unfazed.

Iroh looks at his nephew. "Zuko, I know she is your sister, but-"

"I'll take her," Zuko states, his expression calm and decisive. "No offense" - and he looks to Sokka now - "but on the day of the comet, a bender needs to fight her. Her flames will be too strong to counter with a sword."

Sokka puts up his hands. "None taken. From what I've heard, she's crazy powerful, and I don't really feel the need to be turned into roasted meat. Plus," he adds, "that makes me free to go after the bastards that come for my home, right?"

Piandao nods. "We have not finalized a plan yet, and we will need to wait until the Water Tribe representatives arrive, but yes, we will need someone to sabotage the airships."

"Then I guess that's where I'll be, too," Toph speaks up. "They're made of metal, right? A metalbender would come in handy then."

At that, Iroh's eyes widen in curiosity. "A metalbender? You can bend metal?"

And that seems to be the end of that discussion and the start of another.

—

"What is going on?" Aang demands, coming to a stop right outside the tent. "Katara, if-"

"Not here," she interrupts, seeing the curious looks the others around them send them. She gestures to a calmer spot not far from where the water laps at the sand where they can talk in private.

She didn't plan for it to come out like this. Of course she knew that she would have to tell him sooner rather than later, but she didn't imagine it would go like this. But the seal is out of the bag now, and hiding the truth from him will only make it worse. If he wants to be ready for the day of the comet, he needs to know what happened on that ship. What he did to Hahn.

A small part of her tells her it's selfish to tell him just for her own benefit, so that he can kill the man she wants dead most in the world. That she shouldn't put this guilt on his shoulders so that she can feel better.

But this is a human life they're talking about. He deserves to know; he should know. He is the Avatar, after all. There is not a day he has gone without feeling guilty.

Everyone in this camp needs to shoulder their burdens, and this is his. She is merely the messenger.

When they reach the quiet spot she'd indicated earlier, Katara comes to a stop, turning to look Aang in the eye. His expression is confused, his brows furrowed, and there is something darker swirling in his eyes, something shadowed. He looks innocent and guilty all at once and she thinks that sometimes, she really can see all his past lives in him.

She doesn't want to break his heart, but she has to. There is no other choice.

"Look, Aang..." she begins, then trails off, because how do you say something like that? How do you shatter someone's entire world? Spirits, how did Sokka do it when he inevitably had to tell Aang what happened to his people?

"What? What happened to Hahn?" Aang demands, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. He's not angry at her, she knows, he's angry at the whole situation, and he is scared. Scared of what she might tell him. "You know something I don't, right? For how long? Since that night?"

She runs her hands through her hair, feels the tangled strands under her fingers. She'll need to brush it soon, flying on Appa all day really doesn't do it any favors.

Spirits, this is hard.

She takes a deep breath, looks Aang in the eye, and resolves to tell him the truth. Nothing but the whole truth.

There is no easy way to say this. She'll just need to get it out, raw and unabashed.

"Aang... do you remember how you slammed Hahn into the gunwale with your bending?"

He nods. "Of course I do. I didn't like it, but I did it to protect you."

"And I'm thankful for that, I really am," she assures him. "But... that's not all that happened." She waits for him to interject, to demand answers, but he only stands there and waits for her to continue. So she does.

"It was too hectic to see at the moment, so of course you didn't notice but... and I know that wasn't your intention, you never meant to... to..."

"To what, Katara?"

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

"You killed him, Aang. Slamming him into the gunwale in that position, it... it broke his neck."

Silence.

The waves lap against the shore. Birds circle overhead, occasionally letting out cries. The bustle of the camp is loud in the background, people walking on sand, people talking, people carrying things. A fire burns in a fire pit, the pop of the flames barely heard over the rushing of the wind in her ears.

Aang stares at her with wide grey eyes.

Katara thinks she can see something break in them.

She waits for the outburst that is sure to come, waits for his eyes to start glowing white, waits for the inevitable destruction the Avatar State brings with it with tightly clenched fists.

But instead, Aang only shakes his head.

"No...no..." he mutters, so faint she almost doesn't hear it. "That's not... I didn't... I didn't want to..."

"I'm sorry, Aang."

"Are you... are you sure? Maybe-"

"I am," she interrupts. Best not to let him go there. Denial will only make this worse. "I felt his heart stop right at that moment."

Tears swell up in his eyes, his clenched hands shaking uncontrollably.

And she knows how he feels, Tui and La, she does. She's killed more people than she can count, and she hated it every single time. She thinks back to Yana, how she had seen the life fade from those blue, blue eyes. She thinks back to the first firebender she killed back at the South Pole, back under Hama's merciless tutelage. How scared and disturbed and sick she felt. How she looked into the mirror afterward and only saw a monster, a stranger she didn't recognize. How she made that stranger her own, how she molded herself to fit into the mask she'd been forced into.

She'd hoped that no one in this world would have to suffer the way she did. Had hoped that no one would have to walk down the path she walked.

It seems like she couldn't protect Aang from this.

But she doesn't need to protect him from this. He is the Avatar. The fate of the world depends on him. He doesn't have time to be childish, he can't afford to drown in guilt and hide from the world. Not anymore. Not with the comet, with the most important day of their lives, so close.

But that does not mean that she doesn't feel for him. Telling him was a necessary evil, but if she could make it better, she would.

But she can't. This is something he needs to work through himself, no matter how hard it is.

So when the Avatar flees, Katara lets him.

—

That night, she finds Zuko in his tent. She knows the others would probably send her suspicious looks should they know, and with so many tents standing right next to each other, privacy isn't exactly abundant, but she doesn't care. She delivered the worst news one could deliver today and she just needs someone to hold her.

"Hey," he greets when Katara slinks into his tent and starts stripping down to her bindings. He's laying in bed already, his hair mussed from sleep, his eyes searching for hints as to how her mood is. Dinner hadn't exactly been a private affair, and she'd kept to herself, trying to get over the guilt that had been swelling up inside her ever since her conversation with Aang.

"Are you okay?" he asks when she curls up beside him on the mattress. The bed is made for only one person, but she doesn't care, and judging by the way he puts his arm around her and pulls her back to his chest, he doesn't either. She sighs contentedly when she feels his warmth on her naked skin.

"I am now."

She feels him smile against her hair, and then he presses a soft kiss to the back of her neck. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he mutters, his breath ghosting over her ear.

He and Sokka had sent her confused looks all throughout dinner until Toph dramatically sighed and rolled her eyes and started, Katara assumes, explaining things to them. Then they'd looked just as pale as her.

She thinks about it for a second, then decides that there is no harm in talking to Zuko.

"I don't know, I just... I feel so guilty, you know? Like it's somehow my fault. And I know it's not," she adds quickly before he can open his mouth. "I know that. I mean, I... I bloodbent Hahn that night. He was just so annoying and insulting and I'd had enough... maybe if I didn't hold him in that position, maybe he wouldn't have broken his neck when Aang..."

"Katara..."

"I know, I know," she quickly assures. "What-ifs won't help anyone. And I mean, he's the Avatar. On the day of the comet, he'll need to kill Ozai. Maybe it'll be easier if he already... and I know I had to tell him eventually, I just didn't plan for it to come out like this."

"Katara," Zuko mutters in response, "I know you wanted to choose the optimal moment for this, but there is no optimal moment for stuff like this. His reaction would have been the same, no matter what. I know you wanted it to be perfect-"

"I'm working on that, you know," she interrupts, turning to look him in the eye. In the low light of the tent, his eyes are a dark amber, and she instantly finds herself calmed by the loving expression on his face. "I know I don't have to be perfect. I'm trying to be a little less perfect, in fact."

A small smile plays on his lips. "Good. So you know that what happened with Aang today is neither the best nor the worst way it could have gone, right?"

Katara nods. "I know. It is how it is. But..." She runs her hand over her face, not caring about mussing up her hair. "I just feel so bad for him, you know? I remember the first time I had to... and it was horrible. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Zuko runs a finger down her cheek. "I know. No one does. Some things just are necessary in life, and they aren't pleasant. Doesn't mean we can't feel bad for it, though." He leans down to press a soft kiss against her lips. "Aang will be fine. Not in the next few days, I guess, but he'll get over it."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she says. "What if he won't? He's an Air Nomad, and he just broke his most sacred custom. What if he runs away again?"

"He won't. Toph keeps an eye on him. The last time I spoke with her, she said he's sulking on top of the cliffs. We just need to give him time. This is war. Nothing has ever been easy in war. He understands that."

She gives a hum in response, and feels him burying his face in her shoulder. The warmth he gives off, and his even breaths do their best to lull her to sleep, but there is one thought that keeps her awake, staring at the red fabric of the tent overhead.

"Am I a bad person for kinda liking that Aang knows?"

She doesn't look at him, but she can feel him lifting his head to look at her. "What?"

"I mean, I hate that it causes him pain, of course I do, but..." She locks her gaze with his, blue on gold. "A small part of me is relieved. Because now he's already killed before, so when Sozin's Comet arrives, it will be easier for him to kill Ozai."

Zuko doesn't say anything to that, only keeps looking her in the eyes.

"Spirits, I'm sorry, this is your father we're talking about, I'm so stupid..."

But he only shakes his head, and there is no anger or disgust in his eyes. Only understanding and acceptance. "Katara," he says slowly, his voice thick and raspy in the quiet of night, "my father is the worst person I know. If I had the chance to kill him, I would do it, so that no one else would ever have to suffer under him again. Please don't feel bad about talking about him like this, because I certainly don't."

He leans down to kiss her shoulder, and nuzzles her neck again. "And no, you're not a bad person. You simply wish for this war to end, as do we all. There is nothing bad about that."

Katara takes a few more seconds to listen to his breath, to the gentle sounds of the ocean outside, to the fabric of the tents lightly rustling in the wind. Then she nods, turns, and buries her face in his hair.

—

Aang sits at the edge of the cliffs, and stares up at the moon. From here, on the other side of the island, all he can see is the vast ocean stretching out before him, illuminated by silvery light. The waves crash against the bottom of the cliffs with an ominous sound, fueled by strong winds.

He can't stand to feel the wind on his face. Not now. Not anymore. Maybe not ever again.

He killed someone. Took someone's life. Broke Hahn's neck, slammed him into the railing with such force that he didn't survive.

He broke the Air Nomad's most sacred custom. His most sacred custom.

His whole identity had been built on keeping his culture alive, on fulfilling his duty as the last Air Nomad, the last airbender. On solving problems peacefully and not succumbing to violence like so many others.

He is the Avatar. He should be better. He shouldn't kill. He should-

But what should he be?

He saw Air Nomads kill. The memories the Banyan-groove tree had shown him had been clear - on the day of the comet, nearly a hundred years ago, airbenders had used violence. They'd used it to defend themselves, because they'd had no other choice. They'd been forced to use it. Just like he'd been forced to use violence to escape Hahn's captivity, to save Katara from him.

But then again, you always have a choice, don't you? And violence is a choice.

But not when your life is on the line. And he is certain that the Fire Lord would have killed them all had they arrived in the Fire Nation. So maybe that one lost life - Hahn's lost life - had saved a dozen others, including Appa, Katara, Sokka, and himself.

(So maybe one lost life - Ozai's lost life - would save a thousand others?)

But he didn't have to kill Hahn. Pakku had taken control of the fleet; he would have done that even if Hahn had still been alive. If he'd timed his strike different, if maybe he'd used water instead of air, if he'd used another maneuver... and Katara had held Hahn up in this really odd way-

But this isn't about Katara, this is about him. He can't get distracted. This isn't her fault. This is on him.

Aang buries his face in his hands, feels the strands of his hair at his fingertips, reminding him of just how un-Air Nomad he looks. He certainly feels this way.

It doesn't matter what good Hahn's death brought (and he hates even thinking that - there is nothing good about killing, not ever). He swore an oath, and he broke that oath. He violated his most sacred custom. What would Master Gyatso think if he'd see him right now?

That thought brings a wave of guilt with it that threatens to almost drown him. He hadn't thought about Gyatso in so long. Just who is he becoming?

He doesn't know who he is anymore. He is the last of his kind, he has to keep his culture alive. But he is also the Avatar, and he has a war to end and a world to save from certain doom, and there is no time. Time is running out, the day of the comet is nearing, and everyone is telling him to kill Ozai, even Ozai's own son, and he hates that he doesn't regret killing Hahn. He hates having had to kill, he hates that he broke someone's neck, no matter how much of an accident that was because the end result is still the same, but he doesn't feel bad for Hahn himself. Because things are so much easier now that Hahn is dead, and just what the hell is wrong with him?

He is the Avatar, and he is not simply one thing - he is an airbender, he is a firebender, an earthbender and a waterbender, he is neither human nor spirit, he is something in between, always walking on the edge. He can't simply live according to one culture's belief, he has to understand all four nations and live according to all four nation's beliefs.

But he is also an Air Nomad. He was raised as one. He doesn't know anything else, and now the world is trying to force its beliefs upon him, and he simply can't deal with it.

But that's nothing new. Ever since he woke up in that iceberg, he's had to fight the world to keep his beliefs, because the world had certainly not made it easy for him, and had fought him every step of the way.

But maybe he shouldn't fight the world. He is the Avatar, he is the World Spirit. And if he fights the very thing that he is, then who is he?

Certainly not an Air Nomad. But then again, he's never only been an Air Nomad, even if he hasn't felt like it.

He is an Avatar that has killed. He is an Air Nomad that has killed. But he is not the only Air Nomad that has blood on his hands, isn't he? Does he condemn the airbenders that have fought during Sozin's Comet? Does he think they're killers because of what they have done?

No, no he doesn't, he realizes as he thinks about it. They're still Air Nomads, no matter what. They had no choice. They weren't in the wrong here, the firebenders were.

So maybe he should apply that same kindness to himself. He didn't mean to kill, he had no choice. He is still an Air Nomad, just not only an Air Nomad. He is the Avatar. He has a world to save.

Maybe he needs to be the Avatar first, and an Air Nomad second.

—

"Yue!"

Katara turns her head at her brother's exclamation to see the princess entering the red tent. Her gown is simpler, less ostentatious, than what Katara saw her wear in the frigid temperatures of the North. She looks beautiful, coupled with the fact that she is widowed... Katara can see why Sokka shows an interest.

As Yue and her guards exchange pleasantries with the other people gathered in the tent, Katara looks for Aang. She finds him, only a couple feet away, his expression carefully neutral. He slinked into the tent just a few minutes prior, looking somber but also composed. The kind of composed that she used to wear as a mask everyday to hide her pain.

But Aang is learning to put the world over himself. That's progress.

(It hurts to think about.)

When she catches his eye, she gives him an encouraging smile. After a second, he nods back before turning his attention to Yue coming to greet him.

When the princess reaches her, she bows. "Katara," Yue greets. "I see you've made your decision." For a moment, Katara falters - then she remembers their conversation on the balcony, the uncertainty and shame she felt then. She smiles. "I did. It's the right one this time."

Yue nods before turning to Zuko, but Katara's attention is already somewhere else.

There is another woman entering the tent.

That in itself is not unexpected. There are two Water Tribe's after all, so they'd need two representatives in these world-saving negotiations.

What is unexpected, however, is who it is.

Her blood runs cold at the sight; she clenches her fists and tenses her shoulders in old habit. She sees Sokka glance at her with a worried expression out of the corner of her eye, but doesn't dare to avert her gaze from the woman working her way through the line of people gathered, greeting them one by one just as Yue did.

(Snow strained red from blood, a soldier's lifeless eyes, the pull of blood, clenching muscles played like puppet strings-)

Then the woman stands before her.

"Princess Katara," she greets with a bow. "It's been a long time. I hope you still recognize your old master?" There is a smile on her face, but it doesn't reach her eyes, those lifeless eyes-

Katara forces herself to smile. "Master Hama. Of course I do. I'd never dare to forget my masters."

"Good girl." And then Hama moves on to Zuko beside her, and Katara can feel her heart speed up.

Zuko is a firebender. Hama despises firebenders, what if she hurts him, what if she lures him out of bed to squash his heart like she'd done countless times, like she'd taught Katara to do-

A warm hand takes hers and squeezes. "Hey." His voice is calming and low, and so full of warmth and strength that it momentarily chases away the ghosts that have begun to cloud her mind. "You'll be okay." She searches his eyes with hers, finds the molten gold of his irises, finds the love and support displayed there for the world to see.

She nods. She'll just have to keep an eye on him.

—

Sokka's hand catches her arm as she exits the tent. "Hey," he says, emerging from the other side. "Are you okay, sis?" He lets her arm go and takes a few steps to the side to not block the exit.

Katara runs a hand through her hair, smooths some of the unruly curls behind her ear. "I'm fine." He gives her a skeptical look at that. "No, really. I'm fine. Hama is my master in name only and I won't let her- I won't let her control me anymore," she says, determined. "I'm my own person."

He looks more content with that, and so gives her a pat on the shoulder and a nod before he disappears into the direction Yue had taken off in.

Katara takes a moment to center herself. This war meeting didn't yield any real results yet, but they still have a few productive days before them before the Earth Kingdom fleet, including Iroh and Master Piandao, has to set out for Ba Sing Se. There is hope left.

She looks around the camp. Hama filed out of the tent a few minutes earlier than Katara and Sokka did, which means that she should be careful not to run into her when walking around the camp. She'd rather avoid her old master.

(Gold eyes staring up at her, begging, pleading, a shrill laugh in her ear, a cool hand gripping her wrist-)

No.

This was then.

This is now.

She is another person now. She isn't who she was when she left the South Pole. She is different now, better.

And she has friends she needs to look out for.

Like Aang.

"Hey," she greets him, just as the tent flap slaps down behind him. He turns, looking at her. His grey eyes are unreadable. "Hey," he replies. "Have you seen Toph? I think I want to get some earthbending practice in before dinner."

"Uhm, no." She turns her head to look around, then spots a group of men forming a circle not too far away and laughing at something. "But I'd try there if I were you."

He catches what she's been looking at and winces. "Yeah, looks like her. Thanks, Katara."

But before he can wander off, she calls out to him. "Aang."

He stops and turns, eyebrows raised in waiting.

"I..." She fiddles with her fingers, not really sure what to say. Sorry? She isn't sorry. Damnit, she'd gone this over in her head several times, why-

"It's okay, Katara," he interrupts her thoughts and therefore saves her from her own incompetence. "You didn't mean to hurt me, but sometimes we need to get hurt to learn. It's not your fault; you were just the messenger."

"... and you're okay with that? With the realization, I mean, that you... you know?"

He nods. "Yeah. I am the Avatar, after all. The world is my priority. Everything else comes second."

She looks at him then, really looks at him. At the way his expression is so determined, so at peace with this newfound insight; at the way he holds himself, straight and tall, not afraid of anyone or anything, ready to do what it takes to save the world.

He really has come a long way from the nervous kid she met on that beach.

Aang bows, shallow but still meaningful, and then takes off. Katara turns her head just in time to see Zuko exit the tent. He spots her and heads for where she stands on the sand. His expression is grim, his brow furrowed. She raises an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"I think my uncle wants me to be Fire Lord," he says matter of factly.

"Did he say that or...?"

"He hinted at it. Several times."

"And you don't want to be Fire Lord."

He looks at her. "Of course I don't," he states, his expression serious. "I've been away from home for years. I don't know how to run a whole nation, and how to keep it from waging war on the world again. Besides, they'll never accept me. I'm their disgraced failure of a prince, remember? There's a reason I'm exiled."

"Hey," Katara chides softly, taking his face into her hands. "You're not a failure. If the people knew why Ozai did what he did, they'd start a revolution, in a heartbeat. I'm sure of that."

Zuko huffs. "Yeah, I'm not."

"You remember what you've told me, over and over?"

He raises an eyebrow. "For you to stop being so perfectionistic?"

She nods. "Exactly," she says, reaching up to his hair, running her fingers through the soft strands. "The same applies to you." She gives him a playfully stern look at that, and he laughs, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

"Fine. Deal. But uh," he adds, growing more serious. "That Hama person... is she the same as..."

"Yes," she confirms. "That's the one I told you about." She swallows, her hands lowering themselves to his shoulders. "I know I'm not that person anymore. I know I'm stronger than that. I know that she has no power over me anymore."

Zuko takes her hands into his. "Good," he says, softly kissing one hand. "You're your own person." He kisses the other.

Katara steals a quick glance at their surroundings, making sure no one of importance sees the intimate gesture. Thankfully, everyone they know is currently elsewhere.

"I just..." She trails off, not wanting to ruin the moment with her doubts.

"You just what?" Zuko asks with eyes that encourage her to say the words. She sighs, letting her hands drop out of his hold.

"Hama hates firebenders," she explains, "and everything Fire Nation. She despises them, really, I've never met someone who wanted to see all firebenders dead as badly as her. And you are their prince, who traveled with her favorite student, so..."

"So I'll be sure not to be alone in a room with her," he finishes for her, and she nods, relieved. He gets it.

"Just in case." She presses a quick kiss to his lips. "I'm gonna go make myself useful."

"And I'll stay out of Hama's way."

Chapter 30: Twenty-Nine

Notes:

Good news! I wrote the final scene yesterday. After editing it (which I will do in a moment), there's nothing left to do here but post the chapters. You don't know how satisfying that feels.

Chapter Text

"...after Ozai is subdued, we will send an entourage from Ba Sing Se to the new Fire Lord to inform him of our success and hopefully get a reply that confirms the task has been carried out successfully."

"That task being to fight Princess Azula for the throne?" Yue asks, looking around the table.

Iroh nods, glancing at Zuko. "Yes. With Ozai crowning himself Phoenix King, Princess Azula will undoubtedly rise to the station of Fire Lord. We cannot let that happen. Even if Avatar Aang takes down my brother, Azula will continue to wage war against us all. The position of Fire Lord is crucial, we will need to install someone in it we can trust." He looks at Zuko now, and Zuko can feel the unease rising in him. He clenches his fists and hides them under the table.

"What about you, General?" one of the Northern soldiers that came with their princess suggests. "You would be a perfect candidate for the position."

Zuko agrees silently. It was his father who stole Iroh's throne in the first place, after all.

But Iroh only shakes his head. "No, I am afraid I would not make a great Fire Lord. I am old, and I don't have any heirs, nor do I have any desire - or enough time left, for that matter - to create them."

"You could name Zuko your heir," Katara suggests, and Zuko takes her hand under the table, squeezing hard. That would be an option. He'd still end up Fire Lord one day, but not now. Not when his nation needs someone to lead them out of this crisis, someone competent, and not a twenty-year-old who spent half his life as an exile traveling with no real goal in mind. In time, he thinks, he can become the leader his people need, his people deserve.

But not now.

Uncle shakes his head, and Zuko lets out a silent sigh. He expected that, it is clear what or rather who Uncle wants, but still. He hoped his uncle would come around to the idea.

"No, I am afraid that is not adequate. The Fire Nation needs someone new on the throne" - and now he is looking straight at him, and Zuko does his best not to squirm -, "someone who has seen the state the world is in, someone who can emphasize with the suffering of the lower classes. Someone the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes can trust. I am afraid my reputation as the Dragon of the West precedes me, and that would hinder any diplomatic negotiations in the future."

"But we could change that," Zuko argues. "You're not that general anymore, you're one of the leaders of the White Lotus. You haven't been part of the war for years, and now when you enter it, you'll be taking back Ba Sing Se."

Iroh takes a sip from his cup before answering. "I do not fault for you this; you were young and occupied with your own matters, but my campaigns in the Earth Kingdom were not to be taken lightly, nephew. I have destroyed many lives, and while I do regret this deeply, there is nothing I can do to change the past. Earth does not forget; it would be best to keep that in mind."

"But Earth also listens, right?" Zuko points out. "If we could explain that you're a changed man, then-"

"Then they'd listen and may or may not accept me. And even if they do, that mistrust would never go away. A shattered vase can be reconstructed, but never repaired fully."

"I was banished! I-"

"You set out on your own, met and trained the Avatar, and on the day of Sozin's comet you will fight your own family," Iroh interrupts. "I do not know what is more honorable than that."

"But it's not just about honor," Katara says, speaking up from beside Zuko. She clenches his hand in reassurance under the table, away from prying eyes. "The Fire Nation will need a leader that looks after its lowest classes while still being conscious of the needs of the other nations. It takes passion to dedicate your whole life to that. What if... what if he doesn't want to?" She looks at him then, curious. Her eyes are wide open, as if scanning him for something. "What if he has other plans for life, with other people?" She holds his gaze for a second longer, and there is something in there that he isn't sure how to interpret. Then she turns her head to look at Iroh again. "It would be unfair to trap him in that position just because you think he'd be a good fit."

Iroh looks to his nephew. "I never considered..." He trails off, pondering something for a second. But before he can reach a conclusion to that line of thought, Zuko speaks up. "I want to," he says, sending a quick glance to Katara and then to Iroh again. "I want my nation to prosper, to heal. To lead it away from the warpath. But I'm not sure I would be the right candidate."

Iroh raises an eyebrow. "What makes you think that? You are clever, you are kind, you have seen the state the world is in now and that is something not many of our people can say. You have the power to dismantle all the propaganda Ozai has sowed, to make the people aware of just how many lines Ozai is willing to cross to get what he wants."

"But that's not the only thing that's important for the throne, Uncle!" Zuko protests, leaning forwards. "Otherwise, Toph could be Fire Lord!" A cackling sound emanates from where Toph is seated at the other side of the table, her feet on the wooden surface and the rest of her hidden.

"I haven't been in the palace in years. I don't know much of etiquette anymore, or how to be diplomatic, or all of the rituals I'd have to perform. You're much wiser than me, Uncle, with much more experience."

"Maybe you could be Fire Lord for a short amount of time?" Sokka suggests, fiddling with some sort of wooden object he'd carved. "Just until Zuko learns the ropes."

But Iroh shakes his head. "It is the impression that is important. Me taking the throne would be seen as sweeping in during a power vacuum. I have disappointed my people for many years," he reminds them. "My reputation back home and overseas is less than stellar."

"So is mine," Zuko points out, for what feels like the hundredth time. This conversation is going in circles, and originally they'd wanted to plan for what happens after the war, in the best-case scenario. Now they're stuck talking in circles about who should and shouldn't be Fire Lord.

"But you were Ozai's original heir," Uncle reminds him. "A brother fighting his sister after being unfairly banished and removed from the line of succession looks better than the Fire Lord's brother fighting his nice after abandoning his siege and vanishing. Just as the Avatar has to be the one to take out Ozai to avoid a civil war, you will have to be the one to take down Azula to avoid a succession crisis."

Zuko grits his teeth. He doesn't like this. He doesn't like this one bit. It's not like he would hate to be Fire Lord, if this is what he has to do to help his people heal from the wounds of the war, then so be it. He will do it. But he doesn't necessarily think that he is the best option for that position. Yes, the Earth Kingdom hates his uncle. But they'll come around, they'll have to eventually, right? Yes, the court thinks Iroh a weakling who broke after his son's death, but that doesn't matter, right? The court doesn't like Zuko either, the weakling prince who couldn't even fight his father and who could never get something right.

He is afraid he'd drive his nation straight into another war, in- or external. It's been years since he took lessons on diplomacy and manners and whatnot, and it's not like he even remembers them. Too much happened to keep in mind how to fold a napkin to not accidentally offend a diplomat.

Uncle always knows the right things to say. Uncle knows how to mediate, how to negotiate, how to keep fights from happening. Everyone likes Uncle. Zuko? Not so much.

The conversation has moved on to focus more on the Water Tribes. He feels Hama's eyes on him, has felt them oftentimes during the half-hour they've been sitting here. It makes him uncomfortable.

Katara beside him still clutches his hand in hers, but otherwise remains stoic and upright. This can't be easy for her, what with her old master-slash-abuser right in front of her. She occasionally smiles when she catches Hama's eye, but the smile looks forced and cold.

Zuko thinks there is something darker in Hama's eyes, something deeper than even the ocean floor. He doesn't want to find out what it is.

"Hey," Katara mutters, so lowly that he strains to hear it. He casts a quick glance around the table - everyone, including Hama, is distracted. "You okay?"

He nods. "Yeah. It's... I'm fine." She raises an eyebrow skeptically, and he sighs. "Look, I'm just... confused."

"That's okay," she assures, running her thumb over his hand. Her skin feels soothingly cool against his. "But talk with your uncle."

"I know. I will."

A tiny smile. "Good. Whatever conclusion you reach, I'm with you." She squeezes his hand in assurance. He sends her a thankful look, perturbed that he can't do more to express his gratitude.

—

"Uncle?"

"Nephew." Iroh turns from where he's standing at the entrance to his tent. Zuko approaches and stops a few feet before him. "Uncle, we need to talk," he says with stern eyes. They can't skirt around this topic anymore. It's too important.

Iroh sighs, seeming to know what will come next. "Of course. But tea first! After all," he adds, "a bath refreshes the body, and tea refreshes the mind."

Zuko groans, but enters the tent nonetheless, sitting down to wait while Iroh brews the tea. At last, they both sit and take a sip from their cups. Iroh hums in satisfaction. "This blend is called Ban Tian Yao. It is farmed in the northwestern Earth Kingdom, and very rare. Some of the Earth Kingdomers brought it with them when they came here."

"Uncle, I really don't care about tea right now," Zuko says, and it speaks to how serious the situation is that Iroh doesn't reprimand him for it. Instead, he only sets his cup down and looks at him with an open expression, waiting for him to speak, ready to listen.

Zuko takes a deep breath.

"I don't... I don't think I should be Fire Lord. I have no idea what I'd do if I were - except calling the troops back home and declaring the war over, of course - but otherwise? How do I deal with ambassadors? How do I deal with the colonies, do I give them back, do I keep them? What about taxes - how high should they be? What about all the soldiers that now have no jobs, what do I do about them, how do I keep them busy and from starving? What if the troops and generals don't listen to me, what if they don't accept me as Fire Lord, what if they continue the war and-"

"Nephew," Iroh interrupts, his gaze calm and collected. "Breathe. I know it's scary; this is a very important position after all."

"Very important understates it," Zuko mutters with a huff.

"You would not be alone. You would have advisors who-"

"Who worked for Ozai and who I can't trust. I could trust nobody in the palace."

"That is why I'd be there. I know a few people who'd be on our side. And that Beifong girl has that remarkable ability to feel whether people are lying, does she not?"

Zuko nods. "Yeah, but... I don't want to force her to-"

"You wouldn't force her, she'd do it of her own accord. After all, she also has an interest in keeping the palace staff loyal to the new Fire Lord. Zuko," Uncle says, folding his hands together on the table. "You would not be alone. I would be there to offer a listening ear and advice. I know this situation is scary, but I know you can do it."

Zuko raises an eyebrow. "I'm Ozai's son, remember? I don't think the world would see any difference between him and me."

"Not from that fact alone, no," Uncle agrees. "But then there is also the fact that you fought your own sister and trained the Avatar. That cannot be overlooked easily."

"Still. What if they don't want me? What if a civil war breaks out because they see me as a usurper and a traitor?"

"Rebuilding the nation will no doubt not be an easy task, nephew, but I have faith in you," Iroh answers in between two sips.

"That didn't answer my question," Zuko points out, and the nervous feeling in his gut hasn't abated one bit.

Iroh sighs, setting down the porcelain in his hand. "If I could take the throne, I would," he says with a sad but determined look in his eyes. "If I could only take the throne for a few years and tutor you until you are ready to take over, I would," he goes on. "But I have brought too much suffering onto the world for it to ever trust me again. Were I to become Fire Lord, the other nations would not listen and see it as someone new to fight, someone new to be wary of."

"But the Water Tribes-"

"Do not speak for the Earth Kingdom, and the Earth Kingdom is the nation we should concentrate on. With the continent freed, their benders released into freedom, their capital reconquered and their kings and generals reinstated, they will be looking for revenge, and that revenge would center me, the Dragon of the West. I know this isn't easy, nephew," Iroh assures, taking his hand. "But it is what must be done. This is your birthright. You deserve the throne, and you will lead the nation into the bright future it deserves. I will be hidden in the shadows, guiding you."

Zuko ponders this for a moment. Iroh has a point. And he would love to help his nation heal, to make them see their wrongdoings and then lead them to a better life, but... he is still not convinced. There are so many things that could go wrong, so many things he could do wrong. He can't gamble with this, he can't.

"But what would it look like, with me on the throne and you by my side? I'd be seen as a puppet king, nothing more than a messenger between you and the world."

"That is of course a valid concern, a concern we will have to live with. There will no doubt be poisonous tongues accusing you, and therefore me, of all manner of evil things. So we will have to prove them wrong. I have no doubt that you will be able to sway them to your side with your actions."

Zuko stays silent. Iroh has a point, but it's not one he particularly wants to entertain. Just prove them wrong. Yeah, easier said than done.

Agni. There are so many holes in this plan it almost looks like Sokka's underwear.

How on earth is he supposed to do this, to lead a whole nation, to convince the world that he is not his father's son, not a mere puppet used by his uncle, not a weakling, not a failure, not a-

"But," Iroh's voice interrupts his spiraling thoughts, "I will not force you." Zuko looks at him then, really looks at him. The way his amber eyes, just a few shades darker than his own, are full of sincerity and promise, the way there are no darker, more sinister parts hidden there. "If you truly do not want the throne, then so be it." He reaches over, takes Zuko's hand in his own, and Zuko... Zuko lets him. "I will not force my nephew, who already suffered more than anybody should ever suffer, to take on this burden. You know how I stand on this topic; in my opinion, you are the best option for peace the Fire Nation has had in a long time, and I think you have the potential to be one of the greatest Fire Lords to ever live, but if you feel that this is not your call, then I will stand by you and support you, no matter what."

For a solid second, Zuko doesn't know what to say.

Because there is nobody, nobody, in his family who had ever given him a choice. His father demanded perfection at all times, his sister demanded attention and constant vigilance at all times, and his mother... well, his mother demanded he choose between her and Azula. She never said it out loud of course, but he saw her look of disapproval whenever Azula did something not to her satisfaction. And in turn, he saw Azula look at Mother with confused eyes, angry eyes, bitter eyes.

And then there was Uncle. Choosing his own grief over helping his still-living family members back home.

But not anymore.

Now he is giving him a choice. Whether to be Fire Lord or not - whether to resume his old life with a new spin or keep his new life with an old spin.

And that - that is something far more valuable than any promises of power and luxury.

"I'll think about it," he promises, because he will. He will. He just needs time. Time he doesn't have, but time he will take and make the best of.

Iroh squeezes his hand one last time before letting go. "Have you, by any chance, seen young Sokka? A little bird whispered to me that he wishes to receive further guide on the ways of Pai Sho..."

—

Katara takes in the sunshine when she exits the tent. The sun hasn't shined in days, choosing to hide behind cloud cover. Now it is shining in the sky again, and she soaks up the rays as if she were still a firebender.

"Katara," rings out a voice behind her. A familiar voice. She silently sighs but turns around nonetheless. Hama stands in front of her, her hands folded over her stomach. "A word?"

They begin walking together through the maze of multicolored tents. People bustle about, readying ships, going over maps, telling jokes, sharpening weapons. She's sure she could be of help somehow should she manage to get away from Hama. Maybe Aang is free for a quick waterbending session.

"So." Hama breaks the silence at last. "I have heard much about your travels, Katara." She looks at her, cocks an eyebrow. "Seems like those old shriveled sea prunes couldn't keep you down?"

Katara smiles, and it's not as forced this time as the other times she interacted with her old master. "No, they couldn't. You taught me well."

A scoff. "That wasn't just me and you know it, young lady. Don't let some old crone dictate what you can and cannot do." The tone in which the words are delivered is harmless, playful. It is there to mask the true meaning in those words, the true question Hama is trying to ask.

"I wasn't planning to." Katara shoots her a meaningful look, just long enough to hammer home the meaning and just short enough to not be rude. "I've found my own way. Traveling has been... helpful in discovering who I really am."

Hama raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Care to share with an old lady?"

No.

Katara tenses, but forces herself to be open, relaxed. "It's... far too complicated to discuss here. I just... I discovered some things about myself that I wouldn't have had I stayed home."

"Like the affinity for rebelling against the North?"

Somehow, she can't quite shake the feeling that this is a test.

"Like discovering what true balance means and that sometimes, you have to go against your family to do what is right."

No response. She looks at Hama out of the corner of her eye, at the way she holds herself, at the way those blue eyes wander over the camp with something dark and bitter and unreadable in them.

(She used to have nightmares of those eyes, and what they could do.)

"You don't approve?" she asks at last, and if Hama doesn't, then that doesn't matter. Just a few months ago, her approval would have meant everything to Katara, but not anymore. Now she is surrounded by trusted allies and friends, her family. She only needs their approval, and no one else's. She is doing the right thing, she knows it. No matter what Hama says.

Hama comes to a stop and turns half to her. She studies her for a second, and then, seemingly having reached a conclusion, answers, "Oh, I do. Why do you think I'm here?" A dry chuckle. "It was about time someone put the North in their place. That it was you, of all people, is only a bonus. I heard" - she leans further in as to make sure anyone nearby can't hear her - "that you put your talents to good use against that incompetent northern chieftain. Is it true?" And she asks that last bit with a crooked eyebrow and a half-smile playing on her lips as if it were just the newest gossip, as if Katara publicly slapped someone and not killed a chieftain.

For a seemingly endless second, she can't speak. Her throat feels dry and parched, her heart pumps dizzyingly fast. She swallows, but doesn't dare to avert her eyes from Hama's dark ones. If she looks away now, it will signal weakness.

And Katara is not weak.

"Yes," she says when she has her voice back. "It's true." And she doesn't elaborate on that. Best not to give Hama more information on the topic.

Hama keeps looking at her for a second longer, seeming to wait for something Katara isn't willing to give. Then she lets out a humming sound and starts walking again. Katara catches up to her.

"When I look around camp, I do not only see our retinue and Earth Kingdomers, but also Fire Nationals," she notes. "Even their prince is here."

She sounds casual, too casual to truly be. She wants to know something and Katara will do her best to keep that knowledge from ever landing in Hama's grasp. La knows what she could do with it.

"Yes, Iroh has been very helpful so far."

Hama snorts and sends her a look that would look amused on literally every other person in the world. "The other prince."

"Banished prince," she points out. "He doesn't exactly hold much power."

"But a banished prince is still a prince. He is still a symbol for the rebellion."

"You're not doubting him?"

A scoff. "Why would I? If the legendary General Iroh and Master Piandao believe in him, then who am I, a mere waterbending master, to doubt their reasoning?"

Her tone is acidic, and Katara comes to a stop, forcing Hama to stand as well.

"Zuko is a good man, as are General Iroh and Master Piandao. They know what they're doing," Katara says, holding eye contact. "I know you don't trust the Fire Nation, but they want to help. Their goal is to bring balance to the whole world, the Water Tribes included."

"I would not presume someone from the Fire Nation to know better about the needs of the Water Tribes than we do."

"This isn't about the Water Tribes, Hama. This is about the world. We need to work together for this. I thought that is why you're here?" she asks before Hama can answer. "Because you agreed with Bato and Bato agrees with Pakku and Iroh?"

A second passes and Hama does not answer. Another second passes and all she does is raise an eyebrow suspiciously. Then, at last, she huffs. "So. That Zuko guy. You seem to be close."

Katara can feel her blood run cold. The last thing she wants is for Hama to form a mental connection between her and Zuko.

She steels herself, and thinks of the countless times she had to put a mask on to survive. This is just like that. Nothing different, even though her heart beats a little faster than she thinks is warranted.

"We traveled together for a few months. I'm as close with him as I'm with the others around the Avatar."

"Which means...?"

"Were acquaintances."

The eyebrow raises higher. "Mere acquaintances?" When Katara doesn't answer, Hama takes a step forward and elaborates, "Traveling together for months, having adventures and alone time miles and miles from civilization, just you and a handsome young man who is even a prince... hm, nothing?"

Katara can feel mortification tint her cheeks a traitorous red. She does her best to calm herself. "No, nothing." And her voice wavers such a tiny amount she can pretend that there is no way Hama heard it. "We're acquaintances, that's all. I have no interest in him - or anybody else, for that matter. We need to focus on the comet, remember?"

She internally groans. This is going to make it even harder to keep an eye on Zuko, since now they're not even friends in Hama's view. If she believes her, that is. But she'd feel better if Hama would not believe her friendly with a firebender. For both of their safety.

After a few seconds too long for Katara's liking, Hama finally takes a step back. "Yes, we do. Well, I am sure you have a busy day ahead of you."

Katara smiles politely and bows. "I'll make sure the sea prunes they serve are up to your standard."

—

A warm body pressed against hers. A heavy hand on her shoulder. Someone breathing into her ear.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Lips softly kissing down her throat, breath tickling the back of her neck.

She buries deeper into the shared blanket, uses it to block out the faint sunlight coming in from the tent flap.

A chuckle from above her. "You know, if you really don't want anyone to see you leaving my tent, you should get up now."

She huffs. Relishes in the warmth and comfort of the bed for one more second before taking a deep breath in and resigning herself to reality. She turns, letting the blanket slide down her torso, and sighs when she sees Zuko propped up on his elbow staring down at her. His dark hair is mussed from sleep, and his eyes catch the faint light, making them shine a deep amber.

"Who gave you permission to look so good in the middle of the night?" she mutters while leaning up to press her lips to his. He hums in response, and when he leans back there is a faint smile playing at his lips. "First of all, it's dawn" - "so the middle of the night" - "and second of all, is it not me who is unfairly beautiful."

She chuckles. "Aw, watch out, you might slip."

"You did it first," he whispers, leaning in to kiss her again. His lips slide against hers like ice glides over water, like fire dances over wood. It feels burning and cooling all at once, and she's not sure whether she is burning or drowning because of him. His hands slide over her stomach and over her back, gliding under the shirt she borrowed from him to get to the naked skin there. She leans into his touch and lets out a soft sigh when he goes to slowly kiss down her neck. Her hands wander over his toned arms, map out the muscles there, occasionally squeezing, enjoying the faint sounds that gets out of him.

"I should," she mumbles between heated kisses, "probably go. See how Yue is doing or... or something."

"Or something, huh?" comes the muttered answer. She can feel him smiling against her neck, and it takes her all the willpower she has to ignore the heat pooling in her stomach and nod. "Yes. Something." She manages to wrestle herself out from under him and out of bed.

When Katara is finished with changing, she turns back to Zuko sitting on the bed, watching her. "Now, now, that is not very princely behavior. Watching a woman while she changes." She takes a couple of steps towards him until she stands before him and he has to crane his neck up to look at her. "Well," he replies, placing his hands on her waist and drawing her nearer. "I am disgraced, after all. Not much to save there."

She snorts and leans in for another round of kisses, this time remaining soft and innocent, like butterflies flying over a field of flowers.

"You talked to your uncle yesterday, right?" she asks after they break apart, leaning her forehead against his. They didn't get much time to talk yesterday; they'd both been exhausted from sparring, helping around camp, and participating in war meetings.

"I did," he confirms. "He has a point. The Earth Kingdom wouldn't accept him as Fire Lord. The Fire Nation can't afford that."

"I just want to make sure that if you do say yes, you do it not just out of duty, but because you want to, too. Giving away your life because you feel like you have to... well, I've got some experience with that." She chuckles darkly, and without mirth. "And it doesn't work."

"I know," he replies earnestly, looking up into her eyes. "If I do accept, I'm doing it for me as well. But I need time to think about it."

She leans forward to kiss his forehead, her hand coming up to cradle his cheek. "Good." She presses one last chaste kiss to his lips. "See you tonight."

Katara exits the tent and takes a second to acclimate to the heat outside, even at this hour. The tent did a pretty good job of keeping the heat at bay, but now that she's outside and the sun is shining again, there is no shelter. She should be used to it by now, she had spent a considerable amount of time in the Fire Nation in summer, after all, but the events of the North Pole still live so freshly in her mind that sometimes, she can almost feel the North's frigid chill seep into her bones and blood.

"Ah, Miss Katara!" A voice from behind startles her. She turns and finds Iroh standing in front of her, looking more awake than any person should have the right to be at this time of day. The sun is barely cresting the horizon, painting the sky with colorful pink and orange hues.

"It's a surprise to see you awake and busy at this hour! How come?"

She feels her cheeks heat up, and hopes that it goes unnoticed. They are standing right outside Zuko's tent, after all. "Uhm... just an old... habit from when I was a firebender!" She clears her throat and hopes it's not too suspicious.

"Ah, yes. I had almost forgotten your little... situation." His eyes slide towards the tent that he undoubtedly knows is his nephew's because it's Iroh and Iroh always knows everything. But he doesn't comment on it, much to Katara's relief. Instead, he focuses on the out she's provided.

"The last few days have been very busy, I am so sorry we haven't had time to catch up yet. How about some tea?"

He leads them to his tent, and while Iroh monologues about some brand of rare Earth Kingdom tea he just recently acquired, Katara looks around the tent. It's simple and modest, just as every tent here is because no one is bringing their valuables to a war talk, but it's got character. Aside from the tea set currently in use, there is another one sitting on a table in the corner, its cups painted with mountain ranges and rivers. There are maps either hanging from the walls or laying on tables, and there is a small shelf filled with scrolls right next to the bed.

"...but I am sure I am only boring you," Iroh is saying when he fills her cup. She takes it after he has filled his and sits down opposite of him, smiling at him and taking a sip. It's good. It's earthy with a faint trace of citrus that she hasn't tasted before. But then again, she hasn't tasted much tea in her life. The stuff Zuko brewed on the road could barely classify as tea and she only drank it to have something warm in her stomach. And the tea back home is different entirely, its purpose being to provide warmth and something savory.

"It tastes good," she says to ward off the silence that has settled over them.

He hums in agreement. "That is what I had hoped for. Now, on to the important topics: did you find the island I sent you to?"

She nods. "Oh yes, we did. The greeting wasn't exactly the warmest, but that's understandable. I can't believe there are still dragons that are alive."

"Magnificent creatures. Killing them would have done the world a disfavor."

"Zuko and I also have our real bending back."

"Yes, I noticed. May I be so bold to ask how that happened?"

Another sip, another gulp of earthy citrusy goodness down her throat. "Well, Aang got kidnapped by this Lion Turtle for a day" - she ignores Iroh's widened eyes at that - "and then figured out how to... bend our chi or something. And since then it's been all back to normal."

"A Lion Turtle?" Iroh muses, rubbing his chin. "I had always wished to speak to creatures such as these, but alas, they remain elusive."

"I mean, Aang is… Aang," she reminds him. "Weird stuff happens around him all the time."

He nods in agreement. "And I am afraid the rest of us will have to make do. Very well. Have you gotten behind the motives of the spirits to cause you such... trouble, dare I call it?"

Katara ponders this for a moment, then shakes her head. "Not really, no. I mean, we have our theories, but no real answer. I honestly don't think we'll ever get one, and that's okay. Point is, I now know two bending styles by heart, and I got some… unique insights I wouldn't have gotten otherwise. I don't see this as a bad thing."

Iroh hums over the rim of his cup. "True balance is not achieved by righting a perceived wrong, true balance is achieved by incorporating that supposed wrong into a coherent narrative."

"Yeah, that's also what we thought. More or less, of course. It was about insight and emphasis... about working through our differences and learning to embrace them."

She stares into her teacup, into the swirling mass of tea. In the reflection, she can see one blue eye almost taken over by darkness. She blinks, and when she looks again, all she sees is tea.

"I couldn't help but notice," Iroh says, redirecting her attention back to him, "that right before we ran into each other, you were sneaking out of my nephew's tent." He raises an eyebrow and doesn't elaborate, waiting for her to fill him in.

Of course. Of course he'd notice, it was stupid of her to hope otherwise. It's Iroh. Besides, it's not like she and Zuko are that secretive. They haven't told anyone yet, and they're also not sure when they will, but being found out is not the most unrealistic thing that could happen to them. Less unrealistic than getting their bending switched, apparently.

She clears her throat. "I did." Her hands fiddle with the rim of the teacup awkwardly, not sure what to say. Yes, I am sleeping in your nephew's tent every night out of fear that my crazy old teacher will kill him in the middle of the night sounds a little dramatic. So does, I'm just paranoid and want to keep an eye on him at all times.

So she just decides to go with the vague truth. "We're... together. He and I, I mean." In case that wasn't clear, she thinks, and gulps. Tui, is this weird. She's never actually had to talk with a relative of someone she's dating. Mostly because she never dated before. But still.

Iroh hums for what feels like the thirty-fifth time. "And you are happy?"

"Of course we are," she answers quickly, maybe a little too quickly. Spirits.

He takes another sip of tea from his cup and uses the time to silently study her over the rim. Katara fiddles with her thumbs and tries to look normal, even though her face must be as red as a tomato-bean.

"I am happy for you," he says at last, and she releases the tense breath she's been holding. "My nephew needs someone to reassure him in his bouts of... paranoia."

"Well, it's not really paranoia if it's warranted," she points out, and cringes inside. Way to make herself look overly distrustful.

He cocks his head. "Point taken. I hope he makes you happy as well?"

"He does," she assures, smiling. "He really does. Well, not at first, I mean, we kinda hated each other." She laughs, looking at the table and then back up at him. "But then he kinda... grew on me, I guess. He listened when I had no one to talk to, he was kind when I was being a bitch - sorry -, he helped me when he had no reason to... he's a really wonderful person, as you surely know." Iroh nods in agreement, and it feels good. It feels good to share her feelings with someone, to vocalize just how in love she is.

Wait.

Love?

That's a new thought.

But not an entirely unexpected or even unwelcomed one.

She read fairy tales in scrolls when she was little, where the noble prince always rescued the princess in distress. Where soulmates existed and the princess fell in love with the prince at first sight. Where love could overcome everything.

She always thought that her own love story would go like this. Not with her being rescued, because she could very well take care of herself, thank you very much, and she didn't care whether her soulmate was a prince or not, but she imagined she'd take a look at the boy in question and just know.

But that's not how it went. She hated him, thought his existence was proof of everything that is wrong with the world.

Love really does sneak up on you.

And here, surrounded by good company and scented tea in a lovely little tent, she couldn't be happier about this realization.

"I do not wanna sour the mood, Miss Katara" - "Katara only, please" - "Very well, Katara. I do not want to sour the mood, but surely you know, being the Fire Lord's partner comes with... certain expectations."

Ah, there it is. There is the hammer that's been waiting to drop.

She tenses, but forces herself to sit more upright. "I know." No, she doesn't, not really. "If he becomes Fire Lord."

"You know my opinion concerning this particular problem."

"And I know that Zuko is thinking about it. He just needs time, and no one to pressure him. Whatever he decides, I'll go with him."

They didn't talk about that yet. They talked about the day of the comet, they talked about fighting, they talked about losing and what they'd do then, but they didn't exactly talk about being Fire Lord and the Fire Lord's... partner, girlfriend, intended. Wife.

And frankly, that still has time. Katara has never been a big planner and neither has Zuko so she guesses it will all work out in the end. This is just another obstacle. They'll get through it, even with overly suggestive uncles.

Besides. If they lose the day of the comet, it's all over anyway. No point worrying then.

Iroh concedes the point, leaning his head forwards. "It was not my intention to pressure anyone into anything; I am sorry if it seemed that way. You must know, I find it admirable that you are so certain to go with whatever Zuko will decide on this. It is surely an important topic."

She shrugs. "Well, I guess it's just like water, then. Adaptable. Ever changing."

"Or as I like to say: 'flowing water never gets dirty'. But I do am curious. If I may ask: Zuko aside, what do you want to do after the war? Surely your people will want to see their princess return home."

She swallows hard at that. "Well..." She didn't think about that. There'd been so much talk of the comet and all the fighting that would happen then that she's never actually thought of what she will do after the war.

Does she go back and rebuild if the South gets harmed during the comet? Provided she survives, of course. Does she travel the world and learn more about the Earth Kingdom? Does she spend time with Yue and hope to get to know her better, now without all the pressure? Does she stay with Zuko and help him with his nation?

She thinks that last thought suits her best. She will get to help people and do away with even the last bit of prejudice she still has somewhere in her, and she'll won't have to leave Zuko's side this way. She could be with him and see where that goes. And keep him safe from any assassins that decide to try their hand at murdering a head of state.

But then again, the thought of being chained down somewhere makes her sick. She has no doubt that as beautiful as she Fire Nation is, she'd get tired someday and long for the wild forests of the Earth Kingdom and endless icefields of the poles.

But maybe she doesn't have to decide on only one thing. She is water, after all. She adapts.

"I don't know yet," she says to Iroh, looking up from where she'd stared at the table in contemplation. "But I'm sure I'll figure it out."

He smiles and raises his almost-empty teacup. "To uncharted paths and unexplored depths."

—

Zuko exits the tent just after Katara has left, pulling the knot to his tunic tight. He looks up and almost runs into Sokka, who stares at him with arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Can I help you?" he asks, looking for anything that can get him out of this situation. He has a suspicion about why Sokka is standing here the way he is, looking the way he does. "Why are you up this early? The sun is barely up."

And yet it's already so hot that he can feel sweat forming on his forehead. He sighs internally. Planning a war in this heat is no fun; he has no idea how his father does it in his even hotter throne room where the black walls and always burning fires trap the heat inside. Maybe that's why Ozai is the way he is. Too much heat has half-melted his brain. That, and too much inhaled sulfur from the catacombs.

"Well," Sokka drawls in answer, not taking his blue eyes off of him. "I was going to relieve myself when I saw a certain someone sneak out of your tent."

Zuko raises an eyebrow. "Oh? You mean, like-"

"Like a certain sister, of mine, yes." A pause. The pause stretches. The sun rises high enough for a ray to point directly at Zuko's right eye. He blinks and shuffles to the side to avoid it. Sokka turns with him almost automatically. It's a little creepy.

"So?" Sokka exclaims at last, seemingly tired of waiting. "You don't deny it?"

"Well, I didn't not deny it."

"...what does that even mean?"

"That I did not not deny it, which means... that I denied it?" He feels his expression fall into a grimace.

Sokka looks at him aghast. "Wow, you're really bad at this."

"Thanks?"

He shakes his head. "Anyway. My sister. You. You and my sister. My sister and you."

"...yes?"

"You're a thing?"

Spirits, Zuko wishes Katara were here. She would know an answer to this. But it's not like they're actively in hiding... they just kiss without others in sight, that's all. They're just private people.

He shakes his head. This is Sokka, her brother (which makes it both okay and terrifying). His friend.

Aside from Toph, who already knows, it's no surprise when the rest of their little group finds out eventually.

"Yes."

He just hopes Katara is of the same opinion.

Silence. Sokka stares at him with those icy blue eyes.

The silence stretches. Birds chitter around them, people are up and about, the sun creeps silently over the horizon. But Sokka still stares. And stares. And stares.

"Okay, look," Zuko says, getting uncomfortable and not being able to keep his cheeks from reddening anymore, "I can explain-"

"I like you," Sokka interrupts with a stern tone of voice and that same rigid stance he's been in for the last few minutes. "And I like my sister. Obviously," he adds, rolling his eyes. "Sometimes. And I don't... particularly dislike the thought of you and my sister together."

A breath of relief. "Oh, okay. That's good? That's-"

"But if you harm even one hair on her head-"

"Why would I do that?"

"- then I will not hesitate to make use of the oldest Southern Water Tribe custom to hit you with my boomerang."

"... your oldest custom is to hit people over the head?"

A sharp look. "Not the point."

"Okay. Seems fair."

"Just like that?"

"Well, I can take you in a fight, so..."

"You sure about that, Hotman?"

"Why, thanks for the compliment."

"What are you talk- Ugh. Gross. Don't do that again."

"What, make smart observations?"

"None of your observations are smart, that's what we've got me for."

"Care to test that theory?"

"Absolutely."

—

The war meetings conclude.

They work out a plan:

The Earth Kingdom, including Piandao and Iroh, will take back Ba Sing Se.

Sokka and Toph will sneak onto the airships headed south and try to take control over them.

Katara and Zuko will fly to the Caldera to challenge Azula.

("Katara-"

"I will not let you go there alone.")

Aang will face the northern air fleet, since it is more likely that Ozai will want to see the last true stronghold, the Northern Water Tribe, destroyed by his own hand.

The Water Tribes will evacuate. They will head north and south to the Earth Kingdom to be greeted by White Lotus members and try to salvage as much of their valuables as they can. Water is strong, but water cannot fight fire from hundreds of feet up. Water is adaptable. They will survive.

Sokka comes out of the meeting with a strange feeling.

This is really happening.

The comet is coming nearer every day, and now they know what roles they will have to play. The Water Tribe representatives will leave camp tomorrow at dawn to make it back to their respective poles in time to warn everyone and evacuate. The Earth Kingdomers will set sail for Ba Sing Se tomorrow, Iroh and Piandao included. Sokka and the rest of his friends will head to the outskirts of the Fire Nation's capital.

The fate of the world hinges on their shoulders.

He feels strangely calm at that.

The camp around him bustles with activity. Not a hand is to be spared, everyone is busy packing up and readying the ships, cooking one last dinner, sharpening one last spear. It's a strange feeling.

He spots Zuko and Aang.

"Hey, you two!" he exclaims, walking over to them. When he reaches them, he forces himself between them, puts on his best smile, and slings an arm around their shoulders. "You know what we need right now?"

"To go over plans again?"

"To relax?"

"To go on a hunting trip!"

They look at him as if he's lost it. "But Sokka," Aang says, "we don't need to go hunting. We have food here."

Sokka tsks. "Not real food anyway. What we need is to go on a manly hunting trip, just the three of us!"

Zuko and Aang exchange a glance. Zuko groans.

"Oh come on," Sokka chides, "this will be good! It will lift our spirits, we will bond over manly-man activities, it will be just the three of us like old times..."

"If I recall correctly, in 'old times' I was always there to kick your lazy bunches butt," a voice from beside them cuts in. He turns his head to see Toph and Katara approaching them.

"And besides, you want to exclude us?" Katara raises an eyebrow, and oh he knows that expression. Better not to say anything wrong.

"I'm not excluding you, but you're not men. And this is a manly-bonding trip. You guys can do... girly-girl stuff."

"Girly-girl stuff?"

"But Sokka, I don't eat any meat. I don't feel comfortable hunting it."

"You'll just use your earth sense to sense them, and we'll do the rest."

"I'm not sure-"

"That actually is a good exercise," Toph grants, nodding. "I'll allow it."

"Oh, how gracious-" Sokka starts, but gets cut off.

"Well then, have fun braiding each other's hair and exchanging fairy tales. Don't trip over that pebble lying there." And with that, she saunters off, a giggling Katara in tow.

"Hey!" he protests. "That's not-"

"You tell yourself that, Snoozles."

Chapter 31: Thirty

Chapter Text

"Okay," Sokka says, crouching low beside Zuko. "Spill."

Zuko gives him a confused look from where he's hidden behind a bush. "Spill what?"

"You know what. How the fuck did you get my sister to like you that way?"

Aang, just a few feet in front of them, being absolutely still, turns his head in their direction. "You're together?"

"Psst," Sokka chides. "Listen to the dirt or whatever it is that you do."

"It's a seismic sense and it is very imp-"

He waves a hand. "Yeah, yeah. Just do that." He turns his attention back to Zuko, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "So? How did that happen?"

Zuko, a little incredulous, looks around the forest for a distraction, anything to keep him from having to answer Sokka's question(s). All he finds is a bird overhead too small to really count as game and lush green leaves being pushed into his face by the wind. "I don't know," he says at last. "It just happened."

"It just happened?" Sokka's eyebrows, if possible, raise even higher. "I know my sister. Nothing ever just happens with her."

"Well, she did happen to get attacked by a Sea Serpent and I highly doubt she brought that onto herself, so..."

"Aang, shut up. Zuko, elaborate."

"There is nothing to elaborate, it just... happened."

"Yeah, you already said that."

"The monks always said-"

"You already said that, too. Many times."

Zuko sighs as Aang huffs. "I don't know, we just... started listening to each other and telling each other about our problems and she just... Katara is just..." He sighs again, and feels like an old man. Or a love-sick idiot. Or both. Agni, if Azula could see him now. "She's an amazing person. She listens and she tries to help whenever she can and she is the most selfless person I've ever met. She gives up everything for people she barely knows, she gives her all at everything she does, she is so empathetic and compassionate, and she's also this fierce warrior that could totally kick my ass and doesn't take shit from anybody..."

As he comes to an end, he realizes that Sokka and Aang are both watching him intently. "What?"

"Good answer," Sokka says, leaning back from where he'd been leaning in uncomfortably close for his girlfriend's brother.

"Wait," Zuko realizes. "We're not waiting for any game to cross here, you were just testing me."

Sokka shrugs. "Well, it's not like you needed much prompting."

"But… I did?"

"And anyway," he goes on. "Now I know you don't have any bad intentions in mind when it comes to my sister."

"Sokka, you've known me for a few months now, when have I ever-"

A handwave. "Eh, big brother things. You wouldn't understand, from what I've been told of your little sister."

An image of him interrogating whoever unlucky soul is tasked with courting Azula flashes before Zuko's inner eye, and he has to hold back a laugh. Yeah. Because that would go well.

"But I am kinda offended. I could have been your therapist when you needed one, you know? I'm great at that kinda stuff."

"Yeah." Aang nods enthusiastically. "Me too. Oh, I know!" He perks up. "Group therapy! This is exactly what we need!"

"What we need," Sokka replies, "is for you to get back to your dirt-listening. Like you should have done the whole time."

"I'm great at multitasking!"

Sokka and Zuko exchange a look.

"In your dreams, maybe," Sokka says.

Aang rolls his eyes, but goes back to listening, still sitting with his legs crossed under him on the forest floor.

Sokka and Zuko wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Zuko pokes Aang with a stick.

The Avatar has fallen asleep.

"In his dreams, indeed," Sokka mutters.

—

Katara slashes at the rock being hurled her way with a sharp arc of water. The rock splits in half in the air, right before it reaches her, falling to the ground as harmless pebbles.

"A little slow, Sweetness," her sparring partner says from where she's standing a few feet away, her hands raised, her feet rooted firmly to the ground. A smirk forms on her lips. "Scared your man will get lost in the forest?"

Katara huffs and sends another attack at Toph, who deftly dodges. "I'm more scared Aang will talk his ear off. Or Sokka maybe." She raises her arms, the water following her every move, and intercepts the small boulders headed for her head. She wraps her water around them, turns, and uses the momentum to send them back to Toph, who faces them with an unflinching expression and a fist as hard as the metal she commands.

"That's Twinkletoes and Snoozles for you. I'd be surprised if they even catch anything."

"Oh come on, they're not that bad at hunting. They've kept us alive these past few months."

"Yeah, but isn't Zuko scared of trees? I don't know if he can hunt under these conditions."

Katara rolls her eyes. "Okay, that joke is really old, Toph."

A shrug. "But still accurate." Another attack, another dodge, another redirect. "What do you think they're doing right now?" Toph asks, not seeming to be fazed by the burning sun shining overhead or the high humidity of the day. She doesn't even break a sweat when she raises another earth wall to block Katara's water whip. "Braiding each other's hair? Gossiping about girls?"

Katara stiffens at that, just a second too long to dodge the raised earth under her feet. She goes down with a grunt and hears Toph's cackling laughter. "Man, I didn't realize you were distracted that easily!"

She rubs her arms from where she hit the earth hard and inspects the faint bruises. She'll heal that later.

"What?" Toph asks and cocks her head when all Katara is doing is continuing to stand there for a few more seconds. She drops her arms. "Everything okay?"

Katara shakes her head. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine, I just- I just remembered that Sokka knows."

"Knows what?"

"About... me and Zuko, you know."

"Ohhhhhh." Toph's mouth forms an 'O'. Then she breaks out into cackling laughter. Again.

"Oh, I wish I could be on that lame hunting trip right now!"

"What, am I not good enough for you?" Katara raises an eyebrow, remembering too late that Toph can't see it.

"No offense, Sugar Queen, but your brother interrogating your boyfriend the whole day? I'd pay good money to see that!"

"Wait, is that why Sokka insisted on that hunting trip?"

"I guess. Oh man, Zuko's gonna come back totally traumatized."

"Well, Aang is there. He can mediate."

"Yeah, if he doesn't get distracted by a pretty bird while doing it."

"You're giving him too little credit."

Toph's eyebrows disappear beneath her bangs. "He once got distracted by the sunlight glinting off of a rock during one of my lessons."

"...okay, fair point."

They stand there for a few more seconds.

"So?" Toph prompts at last. "You gonna do something or will you just stand there like some prissy little lady?"

"I'm not a prissy little lady!"

"Never said you were. Just that you look like one."

"I don't- Toph!"

"Never gets old."

—

The fire is burning high, illuminating the small clearing they've found, the flames producing a crackling sound that blends into the cacophony of crickets. The stars overhead are bright and glowing like slivers of moonlight on the sea, like snow in dark hair.

It would be a serene picture if not for Aang counting every bird he sees. Loudly.

"Twelve... thirteen... fourteen..."

Sokka, concentrating on roasting the rabbit-fox they caught just right, looks up with a heavy sigh. "Yes, Aang, I know how to count, thank you."

"Sokka, this is boring. Why can't we just-"

"Ssh. Eat your vegetables."

Zuko represses a chuckle as Aang lets out a loud groan and mutters something unfriendly about Sokka.

"Aang's got a point," he says. "We've had plenty of not-perfectly roasted rabbit-fox before, I think we'll be fine."

Aang leans forward from where he'd been swaying back and forth. "Thank you."

Sokka groans. "But this is supposed to be our manly-man hunting trip full of manliness! I can't imagine anything more manly than meat roasted to perfection!"

"I can imagine plenty more things more manly than that..." Aang mutters, the words not meant to be heard by Sokka.

"You're a monk, you don't count," Sokka, who clearly heard the words, argues.

Aang lets out a sound of indignation and Zuko can't help but snort. "I thought cooking was for the women in your tribe?"

"It is, but..." Sokka trails off, looking at them with a disappointed look. "Ugh, you don't get it."

Zuko thinks that look reminds him of his mother when she used to hit him with the 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' speech. He thinks it smarter not to say that out loud, though.

"Well, then explain it to us," Aang prompts, looking at Sokka with an open and curious expression, ever the open-minded Avatar.

Zuko privately thinks that there's not much to explain. It's just meat, after all. Then again, sometimes he can be a bit dense. Maybe this isn't just about the meat.

Sokka sits back with a sigh, looking at the flames and the rabbit-fox roasting on a stick over them. "This..." he starts, then interrupts himself. He looks down at his lap, seeming to contemplate something, as if not sure if he should speak the words on his mind or not. At last, he comes to a conclusion and looks back up again. The flames draw shadows across his face, highlighting his jaw and cheekbones.

"I just... this is one of our last evenings. Together as a group I mean."

Oh.

This is what this is about.

"And I know we've been traveling for months and this is just another ordinary evening - between all the craziness, I mean - but... soon we won't have that anymore. And I just... I wanted to have one last evening together, just us men before all the craziness starts again."

"And you wanted it to be perfect," Aang supplies. "Down to the meat."

"Down to the meat, yes," Sokka confirms, nodding along. They fall into silence again, listening to the crickets and the fire and Aang occasionally breaking sticks in half.

"My uncle asked me to be Fire Lord," Zuko says at last, breaking the silence. One of them has already started talking about their worries, and so he feels no reason not to. He's with friends after all. Family.

They both look up at him. "We know," Sokka replies unhelpfully. "We were there."

Aang sends him a chiding look, before turning back to Zuko again. "That is... a valid problem. Please elaborate."

Zuko gives him a look.

"What? I'm training for my future job."

He sighs. "Well, I still don't feel comfortable with the position."

Sokka, having taken the meat from the fire and being in the process of chopping it up in two even parts, furrows his brows. "I mean, I kinda get it, but also - living in a palace-"

"Like I've done my whole life?"

" - girls throwing themselves at you - "

"You want me to cheat on your sister?"

" - getting to make the rules? If you don't like something, you can just ban it! I don't see any disadvantages in that!"

"Except that I'd be ruling over a whole nation who thinks me either dead or a traitor - or both, depending - and that I'd be relying on a council who would fight me tooth and nail about basically everything. And it's not like I've spent the last years training for that position, and you can't just... wing it with no experience. If I fuck up, a whole nation suffers."

Sokka seems to consider that for a moment. "Eh, fair point," he concedes. "But still. Can't you just... I don't know, get a new council if the old one doesn't like you?"

"That's not how it works. I have a reputation to uphold, you know, otherwise the nobility would just overthrow me. Which they might do anyway as soon as I set foot in the palace."

"But I'll be there," Aang assures. "I'm the Avatar. They have to listen to me."

"They don't have to do anything. It's not that easy."

"I like the Water Tribe system better," Sokka says. "Less signatures, more action."

"You literally ran away from them," Zuko points out.

"Well, I didn't say it was perfect, did I?"

He shakes his head. "Point is," he goes on, letting out a sigh, "that I'm not sure I'll be able to do a good job as Fire Lord. And my nation needs a good Fire Lord right now, they need someone to show them the way. Otherwise, the war will just start all over again."

"And Iroh really is no option?" Aang asks with a hopeful expression on his face.

"Nope. You heard him at that meeting. I spoke with him in private after that and there is no way he's taking the throne."

"Bummer," Sokka interjects, still occupied with cutting up the rabbit-fox.

"Okay, so... what do you think you'll do?"

"I don't know!" Zuko runs a nervous hand through his hair. "It's not like I can give Azula the job, and I can't just pick some random person off the street."

"You could pick Toph," Sokka suggests. "I bet she'd take it."

"And start a whole new war. Yeah, I don't think so."

Sokka seems to ponder that for a second. "Yeah, you're right. She'd become a tyrant."

"You know, sometimes you have to do the hard thing in order to do something right," Aang points out, looking older than his sixteen years. There is something... other in his eyes, something darker. Then Zuko remembers that he just came back from a night of sulking away from everyone else and agreed to kill Ozai.

Yes, there is definitely something different about Aang now.

He raises an eyebrow. "Like you'll have to do with my father?" he asks. It's not that he wants to challenge Aang on this because he is right, spirits, he is. But... he was so strongly opposed to killing, even if it was Ozai, that it's just so weird hearing that out of Aang's mouth.

He just needs to know what exactly changed.

Aang looks down for a moment, then forces himself to look up again, straight at Zuko. His mouth is set in a thin line, not pressed together, but not relaxed either, and Zuko can see him taking a deep breath, steeling himself.

"Yes. Like I'll need to do with your father."

The night is quiet, the stars are bright, and Zuko and Aang stare at each other for a few moments, each trying to read the other. Even Sokka has stopped with his halfway cut meat in favor of looking between them.

"...do you guys need a room?"

Aang ignores the joke, looking out into the middle distance. "It's just... I realized that I have to be the Avatar first before I can be an Air Nomad. And while I always knew that, on a technical basis, I just never... believed it, you know?" He looks to Zuko and there is something pleading in his grey eyes. "Really believed it. But then Hahn happened, and... well, I never told you guys about that, but do you remember when we were in the swamp?"

An image of bug-stew flashes before Zuko's eye and he grimaces. Oh yes, he does remember.

"Huu led me to the Banyan-groove tree to meditate and when I did, it was like... I was transported back in time. The tree showed me something. I could see what happened... on the day of the comet a hundred years ago. Through a nun's eyes. And well... the Air Nomads didn't go down cowering. They fought. And they killed. And I realized that I didn't hold that against them. It was that or their lives, after all, and well... if I could forgive them, then maybe I could forgive myself too, you know? I didn't mean to... to do that to Hahn, and I don't want to kill Ozai, but... if it keeps a lot of other people from being harmed, then... I guess I have to choose the lesser evil. For the world. And if I'm not there to keep my culture alive, then who is?" He shrugs. "I guess I have to swallow my pride and finally be the Avatar the world needs. I'm sure my people would understand that."

Silence falls again over the clearing.

Zuko ponders what Aang said, lets the words into his mind and into his heart. They ring true.

Sokka is the first to break the silence. He puts a hand on Aang's shoulder and smiles at him with sincere eyes. "I'm proud of you."

And there are actual tears in Aang's eyes. "Thank you," he says, not bothering to hide them. "But I couldn't have done this without you guys."

"Well, yeah, I'm the whole reason you woke up from that iceberg."

"You mean your bad sailing skills are the reason I woke up from that iceberg."

"Hey, I have perfect sailing skills, I'm Water Tribe after all."

"I'll do it."

Sokka and Aang stop bickering and look to Zuko. "I'll do it," he repeats. "I'll become Fire Lord. My nation needs someone who lived among the lower classes and understands their needs. I'm still not sure I'll be any good at it, and it'll definitely not be easy but... I guess I can't know it till I try it, huh?"

"That's the spirit!" Sokka applauds. "Speaking of, why don't we have any? There is no manly evening without alcohol!"

"I think this evening is plenty manly," Aang offers, then turns to Zuko again. "I think your decision is very wise, Your Majesty."

Zuko's eyes almost bulge out of his head. "Please don't-"

"Just practicing for the future."

(A future where they are all alive, he doesn't say. He doesn't need to. The thought weighs heavy on all of them.)

"Tui and La, if I have to call you that-"

"You don't."

"Good. Because I don't think it gets any better than Sifu Hotman, if I'm being honest."

Zuko groans simultaneously with Aang's indignant, "Hey, that's my nickname!"

"How about we don't use any nicknames?"

Aang and Sokka look at each other. Then turn back to Zuko at the same exact second. "No."

Figured.

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. When he can see again, Sokka is tending to the meat again, still not finished somehow, and Aang is staring at Sokka. After a few seconds, he looks up at the staring Avatar. "What? Staring is creepy."

"Well, what about you?" Aang asks, ignoring him.

Sokka's eyes flicker to Zuko, then back to Aang. "What about me?"

"We have discussed my problems, we have discussed Zuko's problems, now it's your turn!"

A beat. Two.

Sokka stares at Aang with wide blue eyes. "Uh... I thought we did that at the beginning?"

"Well, do it again."

Another second of silence. "I think this is enough group therapy for one evening, it's not particularly man-"

"Sokka," Zuko interrupts. "Just get it over with."

"Fine, fine." He takes a moment to think, the meat at his feet forgotten, his hand on his chin in thought. "Well, with Pakku and Bato as chiefs, I guess me and Katara don't have to fear exile or execution as traitors when we return home. And Yue is single now, so maybe I could catch up with her again... I don't know, I'm not really sure what I'll do after the war. You're the Avatar, you'll be Fire Lord. And I'll be..."

"The next chief of the Southern Water Tribe?" Aang suggests. "I mean, your father was chief at some point, so it's not that far-fetched."

Sokka nods. "Yeah, I guess the option is on the table again now that we're rid of Tulek... I'm not sure I want to, though. Like, it wouldn't be the worst option, but I'm also not sure about it..."

"You'll have time to figure it out," Zuko reminds him. "I imagine Bato will last a couple of years."

"Yeah, I guess he will."

"For what it's worth, I think you'd be a great chief!" Aang offers.

Sokka smiles at him. "Thanks, Aang. That does mean a lot." He looks between them again. "And while we're at it... thanks for this evening, guys. I really needed that. Like, I'm sure we'll be able to do this plenty of times after the war, but it will be..."

"Different?" Zuko offers. Oh, he knows exactly what Sokka means. These aren't objectively good times, they are fugitives, traitors, enemies of state... but there is a certain freedom to this lifestyle, a certain sense of exhilaration, of community, of understanding, of adventure. Yes, they've been through fucked up things, but they've been through them together. After the war, it will never be the same again.

If they even survive until then. But no one needs to say that, they all know that. They just need to see the light in these dark times.

"Yeah," Sokka agrees, looking oddly contemplative. "Different."

"But we'll still be together," Aang points out optimistically, clapping his hands together in excitement. "And that's what counts in the end."

"Hear, hear," Sokka says, then furrows his brows. "Man, I really wish we had some liquor here to toast with."

"How about a group hug instead?"

"What? No! That's not manly!"

"Oh come on!" Aang shifts forward, putting an arm around Sokka's shoulder and the other around Zuko's. "One group hug! It's a staple of group therapy!"

"Not. Manly," Sokka protests as Aang starts pressing them together. "This is a manly evening full of manly activ-"

He gets cut off when Zuko resigns himself to his fate and helps Aang bring Sokka closer, slinging an arm around his back.

It feels nice.

Zuko's never been a hugger but this is... this is nice. Warm. Comforting.

With one last disgruntled huff, Sokka stops struggling and instead leans into the touch.

Only for a second, though. Then he breaks the hug with a panicked yell. "The meat! It's cold! I'll have to roast it all over again!"

Aang groans. "Ugh, not again."

Zuko just wonders why on earth they didn't think to bring alcohol. It would certainly make Sokka's hyperfixations more bearable.

—

"I gotta say," Toph says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and letting out a burp everyone but her (and Sokka) would have been ashamed to hear, "I have no idea what this stuff is but it certainly makes this evening more bearable."

Katara huffs and reaches for the bottle, turning it to read the label. "It's sake," she says, taking a sip. "And what do you mean 'more bearable'? Is my company that unwanted?"

"What? No, I never said that. Gimme." Toph makes grabby hands for the bottle, and Katara gives it to her. "I'm just saying that sake makes everything better."

"You act like you're a veteran with it."

"Well, not with this kind of liquor, but you think the Earth Rumbles back home were a feast of sobriety?" She laughs. "Always was a little harder to sneak back to the house while drunk."

Katara frowns. "You're sixteen."

Toph gives her a look. Or rather, her shoulder. "And?"

"How old were you when you started drinking?"

She ponders that for a moment. "Hm... thirteen, I think. I persuaded the Boulder to give me some of the stuff he had." She gets lost in thought for a moment, staring off into the middle distance. "Damn, that was a good evening."

"Thirteen? That's a little young, isn't it?" Katara points out, taking a sip, feeling the burning liquid make its way to her stomach. There is a pleasantly warming feeling there, and she can feel her shoulders start to relax. Maybe she should have eaten more beforehand.

Toph shrugs. "Eh. If I'm old enough to win several tournaments and fight in a war, I'm old enough to drink." She takes back the bottle to prove her point.

Katara can't really find fault in that logic. They all deserve a chance to let loose sometimes.

"What about you?"

She looks to Toph. "What about me?"

"When did you start drinking?"

She racks her brain for the information. It's not something she's thought of often in the past few months. Or ever, to be exact.

"I honestly don't know." She shrugs. "There was always so much going on, I didn't really have time for getting drunk. And I had a reputation to uphold," she adds when Toph lets out another burp. "Can't see the princess getting drunk and dancing with strangers."

"Well, yeah, but don't tell me you never let loose." Toph leans in conspiratorially. "Like, ever?"

"Well, I did have a few sips here and there. But I never got full-on drunk, just a little buzzed at most. Although" - she pauses to think that over, hand on her chin - "there was this one time Sokka and I snuck some ice wine back to my room. We were... fourteen, or fifteen, I think? And well... I think you can imagine what happened."

"Incest?"

She spits out her drink. "Tui and La, Toph!"

A manic cackle. "Oh come on, that was too good an opportunity to pass up."

"That was... ew, that's disgusting."

Toph looks more like a maniac than a girl. "You know how I am." She shrugs unapologetically and takes the bottle from Katara's hands, blissfully unaware of the disturbed look the latter sends her.

A few seconds pass in which neither of them says anything. The patch of dirt they're sitting on borders on a forest, the trees swinging gently in the warm evening breeze. It smells of flowers and grass, the earthy scent permeating Katara's nose. She closes her eyes to breathe it in, to concentrate on the way the birds sing their last song for the day.

It's peaceful. There is no talk of war and death, just two teenagers getting drunk.

"What do you think the three knuckleheads are doing right now?" Toph asks, breaking the silence.

Katara shrugs. "I don't know. Probably fighting about the correct way to grill meat."

"I bet Twinkles is annoying everyone with 'the monks always said', Snoozles is stressing about something, and Sparky just sits between them and doesn't know what to do."

She thinks that over for a second. Then takes the bottle and lets the alcohol warm her throat before answering. "Yeah. Sounds accurate, to be honest." She looks around her, even though she knows it's pointless and she'll only see the disturbed patches of dirt from their early sparring session(s). "I just wish we would have brought some food."

"Pff. Sake is best served on an empty stomach."

"Suit yourself. I won't hold your hair back later, just so that you're warned."

"Hey! I can hold my liquor. Can you?"

Katara huffs, snatching the bottle from where Toph is dangling it in front of her face. "Of course I can. I bet I can beat you in a sparring match, too."

Toph snorts in amusement, the gesture momentarily blowing her long bangs from her face. "Pfft. I have experience fighting drunk, Ice Queen. I doubt you have."

"Wanna test that theory?" Katara takes another sip - for luck, of course -, and stands up. The world spins for a few seconds, and she has trouble staying upright before the world rights itself again. Stupid legs.

Toph laughs, also getting up. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

And fun it is - for Toph. She beats Katara with not much effort, although it does cost her more energy than it normally would. They both end up lying next to each other on the dirt, staring up at the inky black sky, breathing hard. The alcohol has fully kicked in by now, and Katara can't suppress the giggles that escape her.

"What?" Toph asks, turning her head in her direction.

"I don't really know why I'm laughing," she says honestly, and wow, were her words always that slurry? "I think this is the second time I'm drunk. Like... reaaaally drunk." She sits up, all the while giggling, and finishes off the tiny amount of sake that still remains in the bottle. She racks her hands through the mess that is her hair, before craning her head back and looking up at the sky again.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" she asks after a few peaceful moments of silence. "Like, with the war and all. If we'll survive."

Toph next to her sits up with just a little less grace than usual. "Look, Sugar Queen, I don't know." She makes a hand gesture that Katara can't really interpret and that seems to not mean anything in particular. "We'll just have to see when it's time."

"I know, it's just... we made all these plans for what happens after the war, but what if... what if the war doesn't end? You know?" She's not sure why she is talking about this right now. This was a peaceful evening, a distraction from all the talks about death and battle. And now she's bringing it up again, ruining the vibe.

But she can't help herself. The alcohol loosens her tongue, and she finds herself needing to talk about this. "What if we lose?"

"If we lose, we're dead." Toph sends her a pointed look, and where did she even learn that that is a thing people do? "No point in worrying then."

"I know, but-"

"No buts. You're overthinking this. Yes, things are fucking grim right now, and yes, the worst fucking thing might happen, but that's it - it might. Not will. The best advice I've ever gotten was from this guy at the Earth Rumble - I forgot his name, but whatever. He said that if you think in a battle, you're dead. You don't have time to think, you only have time to act. So, do that. Don't think about it."

Katara ponders this for a moment, staring off into the forest. "You know what," she says at last, picking up the bottle lying on the ground next to her. "You're right." She tries to accentuate her words with a sip but finds the bottle empty - oh right. She finished off the sake earlier. She pouts, while Toph next to her snorts. "I'm always right."

"You're also more thoughtful than you let on."

Another snort. "Don't get all mushy on me, Sweetness."

"But it's true! You always act tough and uncaring, but you're not. You're actually pretty sweet- Ow! What the fuck, Toph, I was trying to compliment you!"

Toph lets her arm fall back to her side and grins. "I warned you. Spirits, I should have known you were that kind of drunk."

"That's the best kind of drunk."

"Eh. Depends on the person, honestly."

"Are you insulting me?"

"I've been insulting you this whole evening if you haven't noticed."

"I take it back. You're a monster."

"Thank you."

Silence. Katara lies back in the dirt again, resuming her counting of the shining stars overhead, a task which is made infinitely more difficult by her eyes that won't want to cooperate. She narrows her eyes in hopes of-

Oh no.

Abruptly, she sits up fully, ignoring the way the world spins around her. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

Toph sends her a disturbed look. "Look, I'm all for cursing, but why...?"

Katara stands on wobbly legs, trying not to fall down. Her heart is beating fast against her ribcage as if trying to escape its confines, her blood runs cold, and her mind is going a thousand miles an hour. She can feel the alcohol in full force and it's like it invaded her body, clouding her senses, making her forgetful, keeping her from protecting the people that she loves. Why did she drink? Why did she ever think that was a good idea? She's so stupid, so stupid, so stupid. "I totally forgot, I am the worst person ever, if anything happens it'll be my fault-"

"Okay, what the fuck? Katara?" Toph interrupts her wiring thoughts. Katara runs a hand through her hair, presses her nails into her temples, tries to breathe evenly. It's too dark to see anything, but maybe she can feel-

"What's wrong? Tell me." And suddenly, Toph is in front of her, gripping her shoulders, looking worried. About her. "Tell. Me."

That brings her back down to earth.

She takes a deep breath, tries to calm herself. "Hama," she says when she feels like she can talk again. "She- She hates firebenders more than anything, and Zuko is one, and I swore to myself to always keep an eye on him, just in case." She can feel herself working herself up into a frenzy again, but she can't stop it, can't do anything against it. It's like she's a prisoner in her own mind, her own body, and she is still stupidly drunk. "But I didn't, I let him go off alone and I'm here with you, and I'm drunk, and I can't do anything, and this would be the perfect opportunity for Hama to-"

"Okay," Toph interrupts, hands still on her shoulders. "Breathe. I need you to breathe with me. Can't have you passing out on me."

"But-"

"Breathe."

She does. Deep breath in, deep breath out. And again and again until she feels calmer, doesn't feel like she'll jump out of her own skin at any second.

"Okay. Good," Toph says, letting go of her shoulders. "Listen to me. First of all, Zuko is not alone. He is a damn good fighter, and he has the Avatar and your brother with him. He'll be fine. Second of all, it would be stupid for Hama to attack him now. His uncle isn't far away, and I doubt he'd take that well. Plus, he's also a firebender. Wouldn't he be in the same danger as Zuko is?"

Katara shakes her head. "You don't understand, it would be Hama's greatest pleasure to take the person I love away from me to teach me a lesson-"

"Third of all," Toph goes on, undisturbed. "Earth Sense, remember? There is no one here but us, and the three dunderheads are somewhere far in that forest. I can only sense them faintly, but the point is that I can. And there is no other person there but them. Okay? That good enough for you?"

Katara nods, before remembering that Toph can't see it.

"And fourth of all - it's not your duty to protect Zuko. I get that you want to" - she holds up her hand as Katara opens her mouth to speak -"I get that you're scared, but you didn't let him go off alone, and you're not his babysitter. You can't take on responsibility for everything, okay? You gotta stop doing that."

Katara wants to argue, wants to tell Toph that this is a life or death situation, that it doesn't matter if it's her responsibility or not if Zuko's life is on the line - but then she remembers her conversation with Zuko. With Sokka. Remembers the endless hours she's spent beating herself up for just about everything.

Zuko told her that she doesn't have to be perfect. Sokka told her that not everything is her fault, her burden. She told them that she'd try to be better. That she'd try to be more forgiving with herself.

Now is the time to prove that she wasn't lying.

"Okay." She nods. "Okay. That's... yeah. That makes sense."

"See?" Toph replies. "Told you I'm always right."

Katara snorts and sits down again, takes a second to orient herself. Toph plumbs down next to her with decidedly less grace. "That bad, huh?" she says at last.

She doesn't have to clarify to know what she's talking about. "Yeah. Hama is... she's a monster. I don't trust her one bit."

"But you did, once?"

"Once, yes. When I didn't know better. And I mean... it's not her fault the world is like this. The politics of the tribe certainly didn't help. But..." She remembers cold nights spent out in the tundra. Remembers red staining the snow, panicked screams, the sound of bones breaking, blood gurgling in throats. Remembers training until she couldn't feel her limps anymore, pushing on anyway in fear of those hateful blue eyes.

"But that doesn't excuse the way she treated you," Toph fills in for her.

A beat. Two.

"I just... what if I'm blaming her unfairly? I mean, she didn't make me kill those people, the tribe did, and it feels like I'm trying to make myself feel better and blame it all on her..."

"Hey. Stop," Toph tells her in a calm and collected tone. "Feeling like that is totally normal. I..." She hesitates for a second, before pressing on anyway with a determined look. "I used to feel like that, too, you know? With my parents? I thought they treated me like they did because there was something wrong with me. That I didn't deserve to push all the guilt on them because I was the problem. Sometimes. Not always. But... it wasn't my fault I was born blind, and that definitely was no reason to hide me away from the world like I was something to be ashamed about. Like I was defective. And it's not your fault that that woman forced you to kill people and treated you like she apparently did. That's on her, not you, you get me? You do not have any fault in this."

A few seconds pass in silence, the last of the birdsong having stopped for the night.

Katara thinks of Zuko, of Sokka, of how she promised to be better for them, for herself. She thinks she can add Toph to that list now.

"Thank you, Toph. Seriously. You really helped me."

A small smile plays on Toph's lips. "Ah, yes, that's me, always the helpful person around."

They sit in comfortable silence for a second.

Then:

"So you love him?"

"What?"

"You said Hama wants to take the person you love away from you."

Oh.

That.

But it's not really a new realization anymore, is it? She realized it in Iroh's tent.

There is no harm in saying it out loud. Not here, not now, not with Toph.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I love him."

Toph smiles. "For what it's worth, I think he loves you too. And I'm happy for you."

Huh. That shouldn't be new information, even though they'd never said it, not yet, but hearing it out loud somehow makes it... more real. More tangible.

"Thank you. Really. That means a lot. And Toph?"

"Huh?"

She takes Toph's hand in hers. "I see you as a little sister."

A beat. Two. Then:

"Ow! What was that for now?"

"That's how I show affection."

—

Eventually, they hear voices coming from the forest, and not much later, three figures emerge from the treeline. They find Katara and Toph dozing on the grass under the night sky.

"Wait, you were here this whole time?!" Sokka exclaims, sending them an incredulous look. Then he spots the empty bottle next to Katara. "Ahh, there is our alcohol!"

Zuko gives Katara a hand to help her up. She's less wobbly now, now more from sleep than sake, but standing steady is still a challenge. "I take it you had a good evening?"

"The greatest. How was your... manly hunting trip?"

"Not very manly," Aang replies, getting out of the way of dirt shifting to help Toph stand up.

"Hey!" Sokka protests. "I can tell you that it was very manly."

"Very," Zuko echoes with a chuckle.

"Well, I could sense you three knuckleheads sitting on your asses most of the time, so I take it there was not much hunting going on."

"You were spying on us?" Sokka sends Toph an appalled look.

"I wasn't spying, it's how I see."

"Then see somewhere else!"

"I literally can't help it."

They dissolve into bickering, making their way back to camp, Aang behind them, occasionally interjecting some smart remark that is technically the truth but also not. Katara and Zuko keep a few paces distance, Katara leaning her head on Zuko's shoulder as they walk.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "You seem a little shaken."

She looks at him. Sees the way his eyes imitate the stars shining overhead, the way his pale skin almost seems to glow in the moonlight.

Yes, she realizes, she really does love this man.

"I am now."

—

The air is still around him, not even a breeze daring to disturb the peace, and so the Avatar sits on the beach and looks out over the still waters.

Tomorrow, they will ready themselves for battle. Tomorrow, there will be war.

But today, there is calm and acceptance.

He knows now what he has to do, the role he has to play. The debt he has to pay, to save a world he abandoned so long ago.

After their oh-so-manly hunting trip, he wasn't able to sleep. Not that he wanted to. He hasn't felt this content in a long time, the ever-present stress and anxiety finally making way for the soothing sense of yes, this is the right thing to do.

He is thankful for his friends, for saving him, for teaching him, for believing in him, for saving the world alongside him, for helping him find himself when he was lost. Yes, these are dark times, but they made them brighter, each one of them in their own unique way.

He could bask in this feeling forever, sit here and watch over the gentle waves for an eternity, for another hundred years.

But no, he came here for a reason.

He takes the bag lying next to him, pulls out the yellow and orange fabric within. He last wore those robes all these months ago on an island in the Southern Earth Kingdom, scared and hopelessly lost. When he touches the fabric, he can feel the dread again that had surged up in him upon hearing of what happened to his people, the confusion and anxiety upon realizing that he was utterly alone in an entirely new world, a world he had abandoned, a world that had forgotten him.

Now he is found, sure in his mission, and content in his decision. He is not the boy he was when he last wore those robes, and he will reflect that by altering his child's clothing and working them into those of a master.

But that is not all.

He lays the clothes aside and pulls out a razor from the bag. The last time he shaved was a hundred years ago. Then, it was something normal, something he did every few days, something everyone did. Now, it's something that represents how far he has come, represents the culture and customs of a people long gone.

He has to be the Avatar before he can be an Air Nomad. And on the day of the comet, he will have to forget his Air Nomad heritage to break his people's most sacred custom.

But he will stand before Ozai as a living reminder of the atrocities his family committed a century ago, of the atrocities he is trying to commit now. Let him see the tattoos. Let him see the bald head. Let him see the orange and yellow of an airbender. Let him see what he erased from the world, what he tried to take from it, let him feel it, and let him be punished for it by the very entity he took it from, the world spirit.

The Avatar is back, and he is a firebender, an earthbender, a waterbender. An airbender.

The Avatar is back and he is done hiding, he is here to fight and carry out the long-awaited judgment for their sins, and he will break his people's most sacred custom, and he will do it by following another.

—

The bustle of people hauling crates up to ships, of sails flapping enthusiastically in the wind, of wood creaking as gentle waves slap against them fills Zuko's ears as he makes his way through the port. He passes Sokka saying goodbye to Yue, sees Katara standing at a distance and bowing to Hama already on a ship ominously looking down at her. He sees Toph laughing with a group of rough-looking earthbenders, sees Aang standing on the shore and nervously fidgeting with his glider while looking out at the water that seems to almost glow with the sun's warmth and attention, with the excitement of the coming battle.

Finally, he spots Uncle.

Iroh is standing in front of one of the biggest boats the fleet has to offer and talking to another man in Earth Navy uniform, an officer if Zuko still has all the badges correctly memorized. When he nears, Iroh excuses himself.

"Nephew," he greets, coming to a stop just a step before him. "The day has finally come. We must part to each fight our own battle."

"Yeah, I- I know, Uncle." Zuko brings a hand to the back of his neck for lack of anything better to do; heat rushes to his cheeks. "I just wanted to..."

Iroh waits patiently for him to finish the sentence, giving him a curious and open look.

"I just wanted to say... stay safe."

Because that is what it boils down to in the end, doesn't it? He may feel like Iroh abandoned him, pushed him and the world aside in favor of his own grief, and he may still have some... issues with some of Iroh's behaviors, but... he is family. Real family. Zuko might not be his son, and Iroh might not be his father, but that doesn't matter. He doesn't want a father, he wants someone who will listen, someone who won't judge, someone who will give him a choice.

And Iroh has done all that.

His uncle lowers his head. "And I hope you stay safe as well, nephew. You and your friends." He turns to survey the boat before him gently bouncing back and forth with the tide. "She is beautiful, is she not?"

Zuko nods. "Yeah. She is."

"She will take us to Ba Sing Se in no time, thanks to the waterbenders the northern and southern representatives so graciously provided." He turns so that he faces Zuko again. There is something waiting in his eyes, something probing. He clearly wants an answer to his question.

But he doesn't ask.

The important thing is that he doesn't ask.

Instead, he presses his fist against the base of his hand - the flame symbol - and bows formally. Zuko bows back, and they hold their position for exactly three seconds before they lean back up again.

"Then this is goodbye, nephew. The spirits are with us, I can feel it. I hope to see you soon."

He turns and walks up to the gangplank. Just as he is in the process of climbing it, Zuko calls out to him. "Uncle." Iroh stops walking, and turns, waiting until his nephew has caught up to him.

"Wait," Zuko says. There is a nervous feeling in his stomach, like it might grow legs and crawl away. He swallows, ignoring the lump in the back of his throat and allows himself a second to calm himself. His breathing grows even, steady. Committed.

"I'll do it," he says at last with a strong voice and a determined look. "I'll beat Azula, and I will become Fire Lord."

Uncle stares at him for a second. And then a second more. Zuko holds eye contact, doesn't flinch, doesn't waver. This is his destiny. This is what he'll do, what he'll fight for.

He will change this world for the better, and he will have a leading hand in it. He will lead his nation into an era of peace and kindness.

Then, at last, Iroh moves. He moves a bit too quickly for Zuko's liking, but before he can do anything, he is wrapped up in a tight embrace. After a second used to acclimate to the unexpected hug, he raises his own arms to hold on tight.

"I am proud of you, my nephew," Iroh whispers, words meant for him and him only. "So very, very proud of you, and I would have been, no matter what decision you came to. Never forget that." He lets go, and there is a hint of tears in his eyes. He grabs Zuko's shoulders, squeezes hard.

"I won't," Zuko promises, and he means it. He won't. This will remain in his mind forever as one of the happier moments in his life.

He will remember this as the moment he gained his real uncle back.

(Never forget who you are, his mother had said.

I won't. Promise, he'd replied.)

People are yelling; it is time to board the ships and set sail into an unknown future.

"Stay alive," Iroh tells him, and there is something desperate hidden under his calm and fatherly tone, something primal. Something afraid.

"I will," Zuko replies, because he means it.

The battle lies ahead, and he finally knows his destiny.

Chapter 32: Thirty-One

Notes:

This is a shorter one but we're getting close to the end, folks! I'm nostalgic already.

Chapter Text

Defeat.

She mulls the word over.

Defeat. Defeat. Defeat.

It sounds so soft for something that is decidedly not.

But then again, this isn't defeat. Well, not for her anyway.

Knocks on her door. Azula stands up from where she'd been sitting at her desk, certain documents she'd been working hard on for the past few weeks spread out on the wooden surface.

"Come in."

As expected, Ty Lee and Mai enter in a swirl of pink and black, the former a curious expression on her face and the latter indifferent as always - or wait. No. There is that glint of something other in the pale yellow, the tilt of her head just so. If anything, Azula knows how to read people, and although Mai (and a certain Fire Lord, but she is not thinking about him at the moment, or rather not thinking of him as the Fire Lord) always proved to be a challenge, Azula had won this challenge at last.

Time to see if she can win another.

"So what's this about?" Ty Lee asks, already eyeing the papers on the desk as the door behind them swings closed.

"Another rebellion against the Fire Lord?" Mai prompts and gets a shocked look from Ty Lee for the brash question. Azula feels the corner of her mouth tug up in a faint smile.

Always quick to the point.

"You could say that," she replies and turns the documents so that her friends can read them. After a few seconds of silence, both look up, one with big eyes and the other with a stern expression on her face.

"Azula..." Ty Lee mutters, one hand in front of her mouth, her grey eyes nervously scanning the room for any eavesdroppers. Which is ridiculous of course as Azula had the secret entrances sealed long ago. "This is..."

"Treason?" Azula fills in, daring to say the word out loud that no one else seems to have the courage to bring over their lips. "Well, I wouldn't call it that."

That earns her a raised eyebrow from Mai, and wow, she should congratulate herself on having brought Mai to show so much emotion in just a few minutes.

"You see," she explains, and sits back down because she sees no need not to make herself comfortable for this, "it's only treason when it goes against the Fire Nation, is it not?"

"But this is against the Fire Nation," Ty Lee points out nervously, while Mai continues to look on in silence.

Azula tsks. The sound is loud in the stillness of the room. "That's debatable."

Finally, Mai speaks up. "A lot of people would say that. That goes in both directions, of course."

Ah, Mai. Always the pragmatist.

"Yes," Azula agrees, tilting her head. "That's what these are for." She indicates the documents with a perfectly filed nail.

And wow, that gets her two raised eyebrows. She is truly breaking records today.

"What's your endgame in this?"

"I thought that was fairly obvious."

Mai considers this, then seems to reach a conclusion as she gives a curt nod after a few seconds.

"Azula..." Ty Lee begins, still worried. "Are you... sure about this? I mean... this is heavy stuff. Like, really really heavy. There is no coming back from this."

"Yes, I am," Azula answers. It's the truth. She has never been surer about anything else in her life. This is what she must do, and so this is what she will do. With or without help. "The question is," she goes on, "will I have you two by my side? I understand that the consequences should you be caught would be... irreversible, so to speak." A snort from Mai, a tick of the lips from Azula, a quick inhale from Ty Lee. "But this is for the right cause. And I do seem to remember certain adventures of the past..." She trails off and lets them reach the conclusion themselves. How they interpret it is on them.

At last, Mai speaks. "So you have finally decided to do a little more about your... problem, huh?" There is something smug in her voice, something that prompts Azula to tilt her head and smirk.

"Well. It literally is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Can't let that go to waste, now can we?"

Mai and Ty Lee exchange a look then, and something passes between the two that eludes Azula. Usually, she'd be mad about this, but she finds that she... isn't. She simply waits for their answer.

They both turn back to her, now with surer expressions, although Ty Lee's eyes are still quite big. But maybe that's just her face.

"Okay," both say.

"Okay," she replies with the smug satisfaction of a princess committing treason. She indicates the papers. "Then let's get to work, ladies."

—

The fire burns low in the dark of night. No one bothered to rekindle it, preferring to keep a low profile this close to the heart of the enemy, although the mountain ranges making up the capital island do their job of hiding them well enough. One can never be too careful.

Sokka stares into the flames, lets his vision blur until all he sees is red and orange. This is their last night together. After several days of sparring and hunting and talking and cracking jokes, this is it. Their last evening as a group together before everything changes, either for better or for worse.

The comet will arrive in just a few days' time. Iroh and Piandao and the rest of the Earth Kingdom fleet should almost be at Ba Sing Se's doorstep by now, while the Water Tribe's evacuation should be in full swing.

At least he hopes that is what they're doing. He has no guarantee, but he'd rather not see his home or his sister tribe burned to ash, even with all the bad blood between them, even if he ran away from them.

Tomorrow, at dawn, they will fly south to where the southern airship fleet will deploy on the day of the comet. Toph and he will hide there until it is time to sneak onto the airships. Zuko, Katara, and Aang, with his freshly shaved head and new-but-also-old yellow and orange robes, will fly back north, Zuko and Katara stopping at the Caldera and Aang heading further north to intercept the northern fleet.

It feels so real now.

Of course, it's always been real. They've all known that this day would come eventually, that they would either split up and each fight their own battles, or that they'd all ride into battle together. But there is a difference between talking about it and actually doing it. A big difference.

He looks up from his silent contemplation and studies the others. They all look a bit weary, a bit rough around the edges, a bit scared. But every single one of them has a look of determination on their faces, of the grim resolve that they will see this through to the end, no matter the cost. They will either emerge victorious or die fighting.

Anything less would not be fair to the world.

(Then again, why is it on them to save the world from tyranny? On a group of teenagers and barely adults? That isn't fair.

But the world has never cared about fairness. At least not in the last century, and fuck it, someone needed to make a stand rather sooner than later.)

He thinks back to a few months ago, when the trees were still bare and the air still chilly. When he sat with Aang on that island just north of the Southern Water Tribe. When they met Toph in Gaoling, Zuko in that desert town. Katara on that beach.

And it hits him then that they had all been incredibly lucky. What if Toph never decided to join them? What if they didn't even meet her that night? What if they didn't see Zuko firebend at just the right moment? What if Katara died from that Sea Serpent, or drowned, or washed up on a completely different shore?

What if Sokka never went on that fishing trip and accidentally found the Avatar?

There were simply so many incredibly lucky coincidences involved in all their adventures over the past few months that it borders on insane.

Maybe the spirits really are with them. He's never been an overly spiritual person, preferring to look at the logical side of things, but water is adaptable.

And so Sokka adapts.

"Hey, guys?" Everyone looks up at him as he breaks their contemplative silence. "This might seem a little random but, for what it's worth,... I think we'll be okay."

There. It's out. He just needed to say this.

Zuko cocks an eyebrow. "What gives you that impression?"

Sokka shrugs, wincing a little at the way his shoulders are still sore from the excessive training of the past few days. "Eh, just an inkling."

"You and inklings, huh?" Katara prompts from where she's sitting beside Zuko. And that particular fact still hasn't fully sunk in yet, especially with the way she hated the guy just a few months ago, but honestly? It kinda tracks. He's happy for them.

"Yeah, sometimes I do follow thoughts that are more suited for less intelligent individuals."

That gets him a laugh.

"Don't be shy, Snoozles, you can use your real name," Toph comments, and gets even more laughs. Sokka resists the urge to throw a pebble at her as it would be redirected in less than a second to hit him with double the force anyway.

"Says the one with the nicknames."

A shrug. "Still better than yours."

And that breaks the odd stillness that had lain over them, allowing them to bicker and laugh like it's an ordinary evening. It's not but they all know that, and an evening spent in laughter is better than an evening spent in tears.

As Aang and Toph trade barbs, as Katara makes some snarky comment about Sokka's nicknaming ability, as Zuko defends himself from Toph's endless tree jokes - which were really getting old, but also not - Sokka smiles. He's reached his goal for tonight.

—

The following day passes in a blur.

Katara holds Sokka tight as they land on one of the southernmost islands of the archipelago. The airship fleet is in sight just over that hill, soldiers running around and preparing everything for the oncoming battle - for the oncoming genocide. The hillsides here are ragged, though, and so her brother and Toph should be safe; no soldier would find the time or will to make the difficult climb up here.

She is aware that this is probably one of the longest hugs she's given him. She hasn't held him this long since... since Dad died.

His arms are just as tight around her, and she presses herself even closer at the thought if that is even physically possible. Usually, he'd have made a joke of some sort, something like 'it's basic physics, Katara; where there is one object, there cannot be another' - but he doesn't. He just holds her tight because this may be the last time he gets a chance to. This may be the last time they'll see each other.

Katara is used to being away from her brother. He'd left her alone after Dad died, and then after he found Aang. But this is different.

This could be forever.

It feels like she just got him back. He was never truly gone for more than a few months but spirits does it feel like she's only had him back for a few minutes rather than a few months.

She doesn't want to let go.

She has to let go.

So she suppresses the tears and steps back, untangling herself from his arms. They can't stay here long. They each have their own journeys to make, and if the soldiers spot Appa, then it's all over.

Sokka smiles at her. "One last goodbye, huh, sis?"

She shakily returns the smile, although her vision briefly becomes blurry. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Aang and Toph embracing, Zuko standing beside them with a rueful smile. "Well," she replies, "we've said goodbye a lot to each other. And we've always seen each other again, so..." She trails off, but he seems to get the gist.

He nods. "This isn't any different from the other times."

"Nope. Just a world to save and a war to win this time."

A shrug. "Ah. Just the usual, then."

Two shaky laughs. Katara wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

It's time to go. This will never get easier, so it's best that they end this now. There is no perfect moment, a perfect goodbye that also somehow isn't goodbye, where all the words that she wants to say are said. There just is. And that's okay.

They'll see each other again.

(And if they don't, then she doesn't need to say all the words that are on her mind. She doesn't need to, because he already knows them.)

She hugs Toph tight one last time, tells her to stay safe, tells her to show the world the first-ever metalbender, to let her inner tyrant out.

And then they are flying on Appa, careful not to be spotted by the airship fleet, and Katara is eventually forced to avert her gaze as the mountains hide the ever-smaller getting forms of her brother and friend.

That evening, just as they land on the outskirts of Caldera City, Aang takes off with his glider. He will need to fly non-stop through the whole night and the first half of the day tomorrow to reach one of the many little islands in the western air nomad territory.

"This is good practice," he says with a shrug as Katara expresses concern over the distance he has to fly. "You need Appa more than me."

If this fails, there is no saving me, is what he doesn't say but what they all think.

She holds him just as tight as she did her brother and Toph. To think that she once saw him as a means to an end, a way to commit further genocide.

He's like a little brother to her now.

When she lets go of him so that Zuko can get his turn, she sees him whispering something to Aang. Aang stiffens for a second, then relaxes, and nods in that grave way of his that seems entirely too old and wise for a sixteen-year-old. Then he turns to Appa and Momo, saying goodbye to either one of them, and that he'd see them soon.

Then he takes off, and it's just her and Zuko.

They both don't talk much that night. There is not much to talk about. Instead, they just hold each other tightly in the tent.

They've all said their pieces, they all know what is coming, what could happen.

It's the nature of war.

They spend the following day sparring, kissing, talking, eating, and then sparring again. By the time night falls and both lie in the tent, not exhausted but content from the day's training, Katara finds that she cannot fall asleep. Judging by the uneven breaths next to her, Zuko can't as well.

She turns and finds him already looking at her, his golden eyes almost glowing in the dark. Crickets chirp soothingly outside.

"What did you tell Aang? Yesterday? I saw him stiffen."

"That I didn't believe the Avatar could save the world. I believe he can. The kid can get really hung up on that topic."

She smiles. Her voice is not louder than a whisper, yet seems to echo off the tent walls in the silence. "That's really nice of you."

A shrug. "Let's hope he really grew into his role. Otherwise, we're fucked."

Silence descends again. She lets it linger for a few moments. "Do you think he'll be able to... take Ozai out?"

"To kill my father?" Zuko rolls onto his back, looks up at the fabric ceiling. "I don't know. There is no way of knowing that. We'll just have to see."

Something in her wants to argue. Wants to tell him that they can't base their entire existence on something so uncertain, but then again - what are their options? This is the best they've got. Either Aang wins or he doesn't. Either the war is lost or won. There is no middle ground, no grey area. The time for negotiations is over. They will either die or live.

They'll just have to wait and see and try not to go insane in the meantime.

"What about Azula?"

His head turns towards her. "What about her?"

"Do you think you can take her?"

A pause.

Then:

"I don't know. Maybe."

There is something unreadable in his tone, something sad, something certain, something else she can't identify. His eyes are trained on a spot just over her head, on something only he can see.

Another pause. But Katara can't let this stay the way it is.

She shifts. "Look, if Azula-" she starts, but gets interrupted.

"She wasn't always like this, you know," he says, almost as if she didn't speak in the first place. She settles back down and listens intently as he goes on. "There was a time when we were... actually happy. When we got along, when Ozai wasn't trying to pit us against each other. Or he was, I guess" - a dry, humorless chuckle at that - "but we didn't really notice back then. We were too little. I was actually the older brother I was supposed to be."

"Zuko..." She reaches out a hand to touch his, entwines their fingers tightly.

"I know this wasn't my fault," he goes on, squeezing her hand. "I know that he was wrong to banish me in the first place. That there was nothing I could have done. But I left her alone with him, and she was so young back then, I... I just wish there was a way I could have protected her. From him. From the court. From everything. And now I'll have to fight her."

"Azula made her choice-"

"No, Ozai made the choice for her. If she hadn't grown up with only him, then maybe..." He trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

Katara understands. Her own sibling relationship hasn't always been the easiest.

To think that she was just like Azula, a few months back. Caught up in propaganda, in proclamations of superiority, in patriotism that bordered on imperialism.

"But you can give her a choice tomorrow," she offers. "Tell her that it's not too late. That the world needs balance, that anyone can get a second chance."

He huffs. "I'm not sure how much good that'll do. Fire Nation propaganda can be very convincing."

"Oh, I know," she replies. "But then you'll have given her a choice. What she does with it is up to her. That's not your responsibility. Isn't that what you always told me?"

At that, Zuko finally looks at her. Really looks at her. He studies her face with those glowing eyes, maps out her features. There is something Katara can't quite interpret in his face again but this time, it's softer. More forgiving. Tender, careful.

"Look at you giving me my own advice," he says at last, his voice soft and gentle.

She gives him a faint smile. "It was good advice."

He sighs. "I'm sorry for whining about my family when they're the ones who are at fault for this whole situation in the first place. I-"

"Hey," she interrupts, reaching out to take his face in both hands. "It's okay. This is more than fair. You're only human. Anybody would be upset over this situation. I can't say I'm a saint either," she adds with a dry chuckle.

"No, but you're perfect," he returns, raking a finger through her hair.

She raises an eyebrow. "I thought the whole point was that I should stop trying to be perfect?"

He rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?" she teases, her lips forming a playful smile. "How about you show me?"

He kisses her then, and her lips glide over his as if they're made for each other. She takes the time to taste him, to explore his mouth with her tongue, to playfully nip at his lips, to breathe in his earthy scent. Her hands tug at his hair as he rolls over her, and she relishes the feeling of his warm body pressed against hers. His hands seek out her curves, glide over her stomach and legs like she's a goddess he's worshiping, like she is the first sunrise he sees after a heavy storm.

Goosebumps follow after his every touch on her bare skin where she'd forgone clothing other than her bindings to sleep in the humidity of a Fire Nation summer. His bare chest against hers sends heat pooling straight to her lower stomach, to between her legs, and Katara sighs when he hitches one of her legs around his waist just so and goes to kiss down her neck.

She can feel the evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh, and it does things to her body and mind that aren't entirely familiar, but also not unfamiliar either.

She thinks back to that time at the Sun Warriors, when they'd said goodbye to each other in more ways than just one. This isn't exactly new to her but it feels different this time. Maybe it's because they're alone in a tent or because this is their last evening together for potentially forever, but the energy in the tent is different. Wilder, more passionate, and yet soft and tender all at once.

This feels more real than the other time.

And while they'd certainly done things together, they never crossed one particular line.

Katara finds that she wants to cross that line. With him. Here. Tonight.

She tugs at his hair, urges him to look her in the eyes. His pupils are blown wide, his breath is heavy and uneven, his lips parted just a bit. He presses his forehead against hers and they stay like that for a few seconds, basking in each other's presence.

Eventually, she finds the courage to speak, her voice rougher than anticipated. "Do you want to...?"

Zuko glances down at their bodies for a second, then back to her face. He studies her for a moment, then nods. "Only if you... if you want to, of course. We don't have to..."

"I want to," she assures before he can overthink. He does that sometimes. And while it's sweet and thoughtful, she needs him to know that this is what she wants.

She also notices the way his hips remain firmly in place where they're pressed against her thigh.

This is why she loves him. He never takes, he always asks first.

A faint smile tugs at his lips, then he goes in to kiss her again. It's slower than the other kisses they shared tonight, more decisive. "Tell me when it's too much," he says as they come up for air again. "I can stop at any moment."

"I know."

His hands are gentle as they unravel her sarashi. His fingers are playful as they tug at her nipples, as he lets his tongue explore them. She throws her head back, closes her eyes, presses him closer to her chest. His hips shallowly thrust against her center, and even through the fabric she can feel his warmth. It wakes something within her, something powerful, something wild.

When his hand finally glides underneath her lower bindings, she stifles a gasp against his lips. His fingers are long and warm and she willingly spreads her legs for them as they stroke and rub and thrust.

Her hand glides over the flat expanse of his chest, presses against the hard muscles there, goes over his naval, down, down, down, until she is pressing against the hardest part of him and he is moaning against her throat. The sound is loud in the silence, and she can feel herself becoming wetter and wetter for him as his fingers still work her over.

Eventually, she takes her hands from him and pulls down her lower bindings. Zuko eagerly helps her, shedding his own pants in the process, and then they lie bare before each other.

The feeling of him pressed against her with no barriers is something that shouldn't feel so heavenly as it does.

"Are you sure?" he asks one last time, his voice barely above a whisper and huskier than she's ever heard it before. Katara nods, her hands cupping his face and kissing him.

She can feel him pressing forwards, entering her slowly and carefully, and then with one quick thrust. She gasps against his shoulder and can feel him stiffen above her.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I know it-"

"I'm fine," she assures quickly, keeping her eyes closed. "Just stings a little."

A part of her mind tells her that this is wrong, that sex should be reserved for marriage and marriage only. The rest of her mind tells it to shut up.

This is her decision. And she has made her choice.

Eventually, after she gives him a nod to let him know that she's okay, he starts to move. In and out, slowly at first, and never fully withdrawing. It feels delicious to be stretched like this, filled like this. His low groans and moans against her throat, the way he peppers kisses there and sucks and licks and occasionally bites her shoulder, spur her on, cause her to wrap both legs around his waist, to encourage him to sink in deeper, to move faster.

The stinging sensation recedes quickly, and she finds herself rocking up to him to chase the high she knows he can give her.

She also finds that their bending switch has influenced more than just their bending.

He thrusts rhythmically into her, gliding in and out with smooth rolls of his hips just like a waterbender would move, and she rocks up at him with sharp and precise movements, just like a firebender.

They're in perfect harmony.

Eventually, she feels herself reaching the end as his pace quickens just a little. Her fingernails dig into his back as he reaches down a hand to her clit to help her along, and his lips under hers move just as frantically as his hips. She bites his shoulder as she comes, as she feels herself clenching around him, and he soon follows after her with just a few more thrusts, spilling himself inside her with a groan and then eventually coming to a still.

The crickets outside chirp as they lay there, catching their breaths.

He rolls over after a few moments, and she winces momentarily at the new emptiness she feels, the loss of his warmth inside her. His arm snakes around her shoulder to press her to his chest.

Katara looks up at him. "Hi," she mutters, still a little out of breath. "Hey," comes the whispered answer, and then a soft kiss is pressed to her lips.

"Was that...?"

"It was perfect."

He smiles. Then his eyes widen, and he sits up abruptly. "Fuck, Katara, I..."

She quirks an eyebrow, deciding to continue lying on the soft blanket. "What?"

"Uhm..." Even in the dark, she can see Zuko redden, and it's the most adorable thing she's ever seen. "I should have..."

Oh.

That.

She flicks her wrist and feels something move inside her. His eyes widen when he sees it, and he quickly averts his gaze. Katara can't help but laugh. "Handy, huh?" She flicks the evidence of their joining outside the tent into the grass.

"Yeah," he agrees and lies back down. She curls up beside him, pressing her face to his collarbone, trailing her fingers absentmindedly over his chest.

The atmosphere in the tent is calm, satisfied. But there is also something charged in there, something that won't let her sleep.

"Hey, Zuko?"

A hum in response.

"This isn't just because of what just happened but... I think I love you."

There. She's said it. Maybe a little anti-climatic and not some grand romantic gesture but she just wanted to bring it over her lips already.

"I just don't want to go into battle tomorrow without having said it," she adds.

A beat. Two.

She can feel him smile against her hair, can feel his heart speeding up in his chest. "You do?"

She nods. "Yes." And her voice is steady and strong, calm and collected. She knows this is true. She knows this is right.

"I love you too."

She smiles against him, lets her breath ghost over his skin.

"Not just because you said it," he adds quickly, and she can't help but chuckle at the endearing awkwardness in his voice. "I mean, I knew I did since... well, the Western Air Temple, to be honest. But I just never really found the right moment to say it, and now you did and..."

"Zuko." She looks up at him. "It's fine. I know."

Another smile. Another kiss. And as she lays there, wrapped up in his warmth, Katara remembers a saying: love is brightest in the dark. And here is the thing - times are dark; they are living through darkness. But she has found her light, and she will not let it go if it's the last thing she does.

—

He gives her the title of Fire Lord just as it becomes an empty promise. A nothing. Something worthless.

(He thinks she is worthless, something whispers in her mind.)

A pretty box with an even prettier ribbon and nothing inside. Empty. Useless.

(He thinks she is useless, something whispers in her mind.)

(Azula never cared for pretty things.)

She can feel the eyes of the guards surrounding them on her. Watching her. Witnessing her shame, her humiliation.

And she is kneeling before him just like he was, just like Zuko, right before he-

She can't be like Zuko. She can't. She is better. She is Azula. She can't, she can't, she can't-

He is using the same manipulation tactics on her that he's taught her, no, burned into her with the threat of cackling lighting.

Honored Father is using the same manipulation tactics on her that he taught her and he thinks she is too stupid to notice.

Too dumb. Too unobservant. Too naive.

(He thinks she is a stupid little girl, something whispers in her mind.)

But Azula doesn't say a word. She does not talk back when he gives her essentially nothing and himself the world, she does not glare when he tells her to stay home while he becomes a hero, she does not cry when he takes everything she ever worked for away from her.

This is nothing new. He's been doing that for weeks, months even.

(Like that time he gave her a pity project.)

(Like that time he did not allow her into the most important war meeting of the century even though she is the most capable person in the whole nation.)

(Like the time he expected her to lay her life down for him, just like that, without even glancing at her, his daughter.)

So she tucks her fear under her ribs, stuffs it back down into her body (where it belongs, never show weakness), knowing that it will only grow and grow and fester and eventually consume her, causing her to rot from the inside out.

(She does her best to ignore it.)

(Some days, she fails.)

(Today, she fails.)

Sometimes (always), all she thinks her father will leave her is not an empire, not a legacy of greatness and strength and power. No, he will leave her a legacy of fear. Of fear and horror and shadows of flickering orange flames, flames that will turn azure one day.

Azure. Just like Azula.

Fear. Just like Azula.

(She spent most of her life trying to convince herself that this is good. That fear is the only reliable way. That trust is for fools and stupid children like Zuko once was, like she never was because she never got to be, could never afford to be.)

(Today, she does not succeed in that.

Today, she will take back what's hers.)

Chapter 33: Thirty-Two

Summary:

This is it. We're in the endgame now.

Chapter Text

The airships loom ominously before them under the slowly brightening sky. There is already a red hue to it, just a bit of crimson in an otherwise dark blue sky.

It looks sinister.

It looks wrong.

It looks like their destiny.

Soldiers are bustling about, hastily finishing up jobs here and there, no doubt preparing for their takeoff, blissfully unaware of the two figures hidden behind a stone crop-out.

"Okay, so there are soldiers, and there are also soldiers, and there... aren't, that's good, that's very good, come on Toph- wait no, there's soldiers."

A snort from beside him. "You do realize I can bend earth, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

Surprised yells. Sokka dares to raise his head over the stone for just a second to see what's going on. A bunch of soldiers carrying boxes collapse onto the ground on the other side of the beach, others hastily rushing to them to either help them up or see if anything in the boxes got broken.

"Isn't that a little obvious?"

"People trip over their own two feet all the time. Come on, Snoozles."

Toph's distraction leaves the entryway to the leftmost airship free of soldiers. They run like hell, Sokka dragging Toph along by the arm, and make it into the airship undetected. He takes a second to orient himself, to make sure there aren't any soldiers here, rounds the corner-

Soldiers.

He hastily retreats, still gripping Toph's arm, and goes another way, deeper into the ship. They're both clad in red to stand out less but it still wouldn't be any help should they be caught.

"Okay, so do you sense any storage room? Or any small room or even corner where we can hide or-"

"There."

Toph nods to an unassuming door just in front of them, wrenching her arm out of his grip. "This is metal, I can still see, you know."

Sokka ignores the comment, instead hastening to the door after sending glances in both directions of the hallway, trying to open it and-

"Who the fuck locks a storage closet?"

Footsteps sounding in the hallway. Coming closer.

He curses silently and begins to backtrack when Toph makes a funny little motion with her wrist and he hears something click.

"Oh thank Tui and La you were bored at those Sun Warrior ruins."

"I thank myself every day."

She is the first to enter the storage closet, Sokka following just after her when-

"Hey, you."

He freezes. His blood runs cold, every muscle in his body locks up, ready to flee, ready to fight. His fingers twitch towards the boomerang hidden under his tunic, his posture straightens just a bit more to hide Toph's figure behind his.

"Hey. I was talking to you."

He could fight. That will maybe attract attention, but just maybe. If he seizes his chance and knocks the soldier out before he can scream, they have a chance. But what if that soldier is needed somewhere and someone comes looking for him and they are discovered mid-flight, everyone knows what happens to stowaways discovered mid-passage-

He turns.

The soldier's expression is hidden behind an ominous-looking skull helmet.

"I could use some help with the ropes for the gas bags. You look like you have some time on your hands."

Behind him, Sokka hears Toph shifting, getting out of sight. The soldier continues staring at him. "Uhm..." But the soldier isn't doing anything. Isn't yelling that there are stowaways on the ship, isn't tilting his head in that suspicious manner and asking questions.

The soldier doesn't recognize him.

Well. He can work with that.

"Uh, yeah, sure, I..." If he doesn't mess this up first with how utterly terrified he is.

"Ah. You too, huh?"

What?

The soldier leans in closer, and every instinct Sokka has screams at him to run, to fight, to do something, to-

"Truth be told, I don't really wanna be here either. I hate heights, I always get so nauseous from them, ya know." The shuddering of the soldier is displayed by a creak of his not-so-polished armor. "Besides, I was just starting to enjoy my leave, and then boom - some flamehead gets sick and I have to take his place. I mean, how is that fair? I worked so hard these past few years to take the day of the comet off and enjoy it with my family, you don't get to see that every day..."

As the soldier rambles on, they start walking. Away from the storage room. Away from Toph. Sokka sends one last glance over his shoulder, hoping that she understands that this could be beneficial, that she just needs to sit tight for a few more hours before they can set the plan in motion.

"Hey, why don't you have a uniform?"

He startles. "Oh? Oh. Ah, I..."

"Ohhh, you're one of the guys from the colonies, right?"

Uhm. "Sure."

"Honestly, this is probably the most important mission of the century and they send colonials - no offense, kid. You arrived just an hour ago, right, with the rest of ya little group?"

"Yes."

"Well, that explains it. Here." They stop in front of another door. "There should be some armor left for you. Don't take too long."

He doesn't. He finds a fitting uniform - and wow are these things heavy, how on earth is one supposed to walk in these things normally - and a helmet - thank you Fire Nation for making it so goddamn easy to infiltrate a ship and keep one's identity a secret - and takes some daggers he sees fastened to a stand in the corner. Just in case.

Off he goes to spy out the layout of the airship.

—

Zuko wakes to the promise of violence.

There is power surging through his veins, blazing hot like an inferno, threatening to consume him. He closes his eyes, feels his inner fire flare, and exhales. A tiny puff of flame leaves his mouth.

Besides him, Katara stirs.

"Hey." Her voice is still rough from sleep, her eyes blinking tiredly up at him. Her hair is an untamed mess but he runs his fingers through it all the same as he kisses her. "Hey," he mutters back.

It's silent in the tent for a moment save for the birdsong outside. It's hot under the covers, the day promising to make a Fire Nation summer proud. It wakes something within him, something that is more muted usually, but untamed and wild today.

"How are you?" Katara asks at last, resting her head on his shoulder. His thumb rubs little soothing motions onto her shoulderblade. He takes a deep breath in, then exhales. The fire within him surges, demands to be let free. He has to concentrate to not exhale a flame.

"Good," he says, closing his eyes. "It's... it's good."

"Overwhelming?"

He nods and chuckles. "Yeah, you could say that."

A soft kiss is pressed to his collarbone. "I remember that feeling from the solstice."

He opens his eyes, looks into hers. The blue is mesmerizing, such a stark contrast to the liquid gold within him. It's soothing. Grounding.

"Only that it's probably much stronger now," she adds, "but still. It's scary."

"It's exhilarating."

She kisses him again, this time longer, but just as tender. Then she props herself up on her elbows, her hair falling around her like a curtain. The sunlight gleams off her bare skin, making her look like a goddess. He could drink in the sight all day and not be tired of it.

"Wanna spar?"

He laughs. "If you feel up to it."

"I always feel up to it."

They get dressed and then move on to sparring. His flames are wilder than they were ever before, bigger, hotter, deadlier. It doesn't take as much energy to conjure up a big flame as it normally does, or perhaps the comet is lending him its energy and he doesn't notice the difference. Whatever it is, it terrifies him. There is so much power in his hands, so much potential death he could wield. It reminds him of the promise of violence today brings, the end to their journey.

Today will change everything, one way or another.

As they sit down for breakfast, the sky starts changing its color. It had a red hue to it all day but now the color is becoming more prominent, replacing the brilliant blue. There is not a cloud in the sky, Agni's light shining down on the world unhindered. In another life, this would be a day of celebration. In this life, it is a marker of death.

Their good-natured banter doesn't keep up as the sky slowly but surely darkens, tinting the world red. In the distance, he can see the rooftops of the Caldera glinting in the sun, almost as if to taunt them with their presence.

"Hey."

Katara's voice brings him out of his thoughts, her hand under his chin gently guiding his head towards her. "It's gonna be okay." Her voice is soft and tender, but there is a worried crease on her forehead, something deeper lurking behind her eyes. Something darker. Something afraid.

He is afraid.

He is scared and his heart is beating in his chest so hard she can undoubtedly feel it with her bending. He is sweating and dread coils in the pit of his stomach and every good memory he ever had is suddenly pushed away. Other memories come to the forefront of his mind: Katara, screaming in pain as she burned her own hands; Toph going under the water in that swamp; Aang losing himself in his rage and grief; Sokka's hurt eyes as his sister told him she hated him.

Azula scoffing at their mother's disappearance.

Father laying a hand on his cheek and setting it on fire.

Mother turning into a shadow.

Uncle no longer sending letters.

He is a boy again, scared and confused. He is a teenager, alone and unwanted. He is a man, lost and found all the same.

Today, he will fight his sister. Today, he will fulfill his destiny.

(Today, he will answer violence with violence. Today, he will look his sister in the eye and declare her a stranger.)

It hurts. It hurts so much and it's not fair, and the feelings inside him can barely be contained, can barely be controlled. He remembers every single second of suffering, he remembers every scrape and every bruise, every scar, every nightmare.

(The world isn't fair.)

Today, it will end. One way or another, it will end. The war they've all been fighting their whole lives will end, and they will be left with a new world. With a new life.

His suffering wasn't meaningless, wasn't pointless - it brought him here. It brought him to his new family, his real family. Zuko knows he is strong, he is a man shaped by war, molded by violence. But some part of him, a part he always thought weak, still holds on to his old life, to a woman with amber eyes and a sister with a sharp smile.

A part of him wishes that he wouldn't have to fight his sister, his sister. His little sister. That he wouldn't have to oppose his father and send his friends to their potential deaths. That he wouldn't have to part from his uncle with the uncertainty of ever seeing him again.

That he would have had a normal family, not a perfect family, but a kind one. One where his mother didn't leave and his sister wasn't the stuff of his nightmares and his father stopped having such impossible expectations.

He feels the tears running down his cheeks, somehow hot and cold all at once. Katara gives him a weak smile, her own eyes filling with tears. She shuffles over to him, takes him into her arms, presses his face against her neck. Her fingers are soothing in his hair, her hand warm on his back.

Perhaps with anyone else, he would have felt ashamed of showing so much weakness. But not with her. Not with this deeply troubled woman who had opened her heart up to the enemy, who had overcome her own prejudices.

Spirits, she is so strong. And she deserves no less; she deserves a man who will be strong for her.

(But perhaps this is being strong - showing vulnerability in the face of something impossible, and still pressing on. Finding kindness where there is none, being gentle when the world is harsh.)

He lifts his head, searches her gaze with his own. She'd been crying just as he was but there is a small smile forming on her lips. Not pity - compassion. Kindness. Love.

He takes her hands in his, kisses the faded burn scars, one by one. Her skin is soft under his lips.

He leans his forehead against hers, closes his eyes, breathes in her scent.

"I love you," he mutters.

She nods. "Always."

—

On a mountain peak in the westernmost Air Nomad territory, there sits an Avatar, his legs tugged under him, his staff beside him, and his breathing even.

He feels the wind around him, dancing over the skin of his freshly shaved head, filling his lungs with air and his head with thoughts.

He feels the water crashing against the shore hundreds of feet below, wild and untamed.

He feels the earth making up the mountain, surrounding him, steady and strong and here.

He feels the fire within him growing stronger and stronger with each passing minute, giving him life, giving him breath, giving him power.

He feels that power approaching, feels the destruction it can bring, the death it will wage.

But no more.

The Avatar has hidden for a hundred years, abandoned the world to its own fate.

Today, he will fulfill his destiny, one way or another.

On a mountain peak, the Avatar opens his eyes.

—

The flight to the palace is a somber one.

Neither of them says a word. It's almost as if the approaching comet overhead has taken their ability to speak, to form words on their tongues. Or maybe it has just taken all the happiness and goodness in the world and turned it into something ugly and rotten.

Something to be remembered, in many different ways.

Zuko is nauseous, and the strength the comet lends him is not helping. He feels jittery, like he needs to move, move now. But instead, he sits on Appa's head, reigns firmly in hand, and takes deep breaths. Breath control is something he's always been good at.

As the palace approaches, he feels a hand on his. He looks to the side to see Katara looking at him. There is a determined glint in her eye, the promise of change. There are no tears in her eyes, no frown on her face. Instead, he sees a warrior. A woman willing to do whatever it takes to save the world.

"Together."

He turns his hand, entwines their fingers, squeezes hard.

"Together."

They land on the plaza.

It's just as he remembered with big pillars supporting an ostentatious red roof and grates of water to the side. The stone underneath is spotless, glinting white and creating a stark contrast to the crimson sky above. There are people gathered along the plaza, nobility come to witness their new Fire Lord's crowning.

A figure kneels at the opposite side of the plaza on an elevated platform, men in heavy red robes around her.

Azula.

(Child's laughter echoing down the halls, hiding behind pillars in a game of hide-and-explode, stealing sweets from the kitchens-)

Zuko steps forward, dimly aware of Katara taking her place by his side, her chin proudly tilted up. Her bravery gives him strength, gives him the courage to take another step forward, to face his sister head-on.

(Perhaps it's not the comet fueling him but Katara. Perhaps there are different kinds of strengths, and he has finally found his.)

Azula looks up. If she is surprised to see him awoken from the dead she doesn't show it. Her hair is as perfect as ever, her topknot still bare. There is no discernible expression on her face, her eyes blank as she looks at him. The Fire Sage behind her holds the Fire Lord's crown over her head, seemingly unsure of how to proceed.

(Big round eyes looking up at him, a little girl's laughter as she is sitting on the shoulders of her older brother, listening to bedtime stories together and soothing each other's nightmares-)

(Pain and death and war and a sister's cruel laugh in his ear as he desperately tries to go to sleep, to convince himself that Father would never do such a thing, Father wouldn't hurt him that way, wouldn't kill him-)

He steps into the middle of the plaza, aware of Katara behind him, aware of all the eyes on him. He squares his chest, pushes the fear down, and takes a deep breath. His inner fire assures him of its presence, its power.

This is his destiny. He has worked his whole life towards this moment and it is finally here.

"I am Prince Zuko, son of Ozai and Ursa, and have come to reclaim my birthright. By the decree of the Avatar, I declare Fire Lord Ozai and his heir unfit to rule. I challenge you, Azula, daughter of Ozai and Ursa, for the throne."

The last time he was here, he was a lost teenager. Now he is a found man, ready to take on the world.

At the other end of the plaza, Azula smiles.

—

Years ago, when she was little (and then not so little anymore but her parents didn't stop treating her that way so did it really matter?), Toph imagined many things from the confines of her bedroom.

She'd imagined becoming champion of the Earth Rumble.

She'd imagined sailing the world as a pirate.

She'd imagined running away and living on the road with only her wits and the earth as company.

To archive the latter, she had occasionally imagined hiding away on a ship.

She'd thought it exciting then. Exhilarating. Thrilling. And now she is doing exactly that and the only word she can find to describe it is, believe it or not, boring.

Waiting here in this abandoned storage room is possibly even more boring than listening to her tutor's lessons back home and that is saying something. With her tutors, she at least had someone to make fun of, however silently.

She'd taken to rummaging around the room because storage room - there has to be something exciting here. Alas, there is not, except for some ash-bananas that tasted a little moldy but oh well, some dirt in the stomach has never hurt anybody. There were also some knives which she had tactically confiscated and put into her boots for easy access. Just in case.

(Although, if a blind girl ever had to resort to using knives, then something was going very, very wrong.)

She's not sure how much time has passed since Sokka and her smuggled onto the ship, but it's got to be a few hours. It's strange how time passes in this metal tin. One wouldn't think another genocide is just about to happen.

Speaking of, where even is Snoozles? She tried to keep track of him through her senses but eventually, she lost him. There are just too many damn people on this ship, and, although she'd never admit that out loud, her seismic sense... isn't the best when it comes to metal. She never had that much opportunity to practice.

Except for now, of course. But then again, she'd never expected to practice on the day of the comet of doom hidden away on an airship well on its way to murder an entire people.

She also didn't imagine stowing away on an airship of the Fire Nation when she'd imagined the stowaway scenario all those years ago.

But hey, at least she escaped her parent's confining clutches. (And that particular wound still hurts to think about, so she doesn't.)

She throws her head back against the wall, lets out a heavy breath, stretches out her senses again just because she can, not because she expects anything to come of it-

There.

Steps.

Determined steps.

She knows those steps.

"Tired of slumming it with living flamethrowers? Thought you got fed to the boiler, Captain Boomerang," she says as the door swings open. Her immediate answer is an aggressive sushing sound.

"There could be people around to hear!"

She sends a look in his general direction as she stands up. "Just what exactly do you think I was doing these past few hours?"

A second of silence. "Okay. Fair point. But come on! We're over the southern air islands, it's time."

Already?

Oh well. At least she doesn't have to worry about boredom anymore.

They make it to the control room without much hassle. Most of the soldiers are in, what she assumes to be, the mess hall below, conserving their energy. The few soldiers that do roam the halls are easy to dodge thanks to her earth senses and why is Sokka walking so weirdly?

"Huh? Oh yeah, that guy gave me armor," comes the reply to her question. She snorts in amusement. "Leave it to the Fire Nation to give their enemies what they need to defeat them. Honestly, we're basically doing them a favor in saving them from themselves."

All humor, however, is forgotten when they actually do reach the control room. The hallway outside the door is deserted and she can sense two figures in the room. Nothing too bad except...

"This is really it, huh?"

Yeah. This is it. No take-backsies now.

Toph takes a deep breath, gets into a stance, and attacks.

The door is crumbled easily with a loud screech that undoubtedly echoes through the whole ship. The two soldiers turn, and it only takes a second for both to throw fireballs.

Massively enhanced fireballs.

She feels the heat for only a moment before she twists what was once the metal door like a protective shield around her, but oh boy is it hot. Hotter than she ever imagined.

But there is no time to dwell on that now because Sokka is attacking one soldier with a sword he must have stolen and she is busy fending off the other one. She makes a slicing motion with her hand she'd copied from Sparky and hits the soldier with a good chunk of metal she'd separated from the doorframe. He goes down with a grunt and... stays down.

She does not think further of it.

Instead, she helps Sokka with his own soldier because fire against a sword is... not exactly fair. She traps his feet in the ground and Sokka knocks him out with the hilt of his sword and then she is turning towards what she assumes to be the steering wheel.

"So, a little late to ask maybe, but do you know how to operate that thing?"

"Uhm... well, it can't be that hard, right?"

Oh. Very assuring.

Well. It's not like she expected anything else. They didn't exactly have the time or the opportunity to take a crash course in how-to-effectively-crash-an-airship-for-beginners before this.

She hears Sokka setting down his helmet and fiddling with some controls before him, feels the wind whipping through her hair through the broken windows, feels - steps. A lot of steps. Heading for them.

"Uh, Snoozles? You better figure this out fast, we've got company."

She bends what remains of the doorframe to cover the gaping hole where the door was before, but of course, when one is on an airship, bending the literal ground you stand on and the walls that hold this whole thing together so that you don't crash into the ocean spirits know how many hundred feet below, there is only limited material to work with.

Meaning that the 'door' isn't exactly angry-firebender-shaped anymore, but perfectly fireball-shaped.

"Sokka, look out!"

She senses him duck, the fireball that has absolutely no right feeling and therefore being this big going right through the window in front of him. Another follows, this time aimed at her, and she is pulling up the ground to cover herself-

Oh. This is why you don't bend the ground on an airship hundreds of feet in the air.

"Sokka, hurry the fuck up-"

A groaning, screeching sound. A tremble, a deep tremble, going through the whole ship. Something massive changing direction, causing her to stumble and crash against the wall behind her.

Looks like he finally figured it out.

She can hear Sokka's exclamation of joy, his whooping sound that almost gets lost in the rushing wind but only almost, and wants to join in. Wants to yell at the heavens that it's over for the Fire Nation, that they're in command now.

But there are still a bunch of firebenders just outside the door, just beginning to right themselves after the initial shock, just beginning with their fireballs again, now accompanied with more shouting and even more fury.

The room gets hot. Really hot. Really, really hot, and she can sense one fireball there, and another soldier pushing his fist forward in that way, and another aiming at Sokka, and then there is a woosh-sound right next to her, narrowly missing her, and she is dodging but there isn't enough room, she is running into Sokka and what if she is pushing them both into the next fireball, she can't actually see them and her seismic sense can only go so far, and there are way too many people, she can't possibly keep track of them all, and oh no not that direction that's hot where should she go where is Sokka why is there a hand on her arm someone is touching her-

The world shakes. She is knocked off her feet, falls to the ground and oh yeah, there is that hole she'd torn into the ground earlier, wow that goes deep, she should probably-

The world shakes again. Even harder this time, how is this even possible? She can feel someone above her, someone warm, gripping her arms in a vice grip; Sokka, her mind supplies, that's Sokka, protecting you, but she doesn't have time to think further than that because then there is another shake, and then another, and the pipes are bursting, she can sense it, she can hear it, and the airship is picking up speed, how is it picking up speed, and then there is screaming and people being thrown about, she can pick up several heartbeats speeding up like rat-mice, and several other not beating at all, and then her field of vision is rapidly enhancing and then changing again as they crash into another ship from the fleet, and then there is yet another crash, and another and-

Wait. No. This one feels different.

This one comes from deeper in the ship, from the other side, why is it coming from the other side, that makes no sense-

The world around her explodes.

—

Azula smirks.

Good old Zuzu. Always so predictable.

Her plan is coming along beautifully.

At the gong from a Fire Sage, she stands up, letting the prayer shawl fall to the ground, leaving her in only her armor. The sky overhead is the color of blood, the color of death. The color of passion.

(Azula is nothing but passion.)

On the opposite side of the plaza, Zuko turns to face her. She wonders what is going on in his mind. If he is wondering why she isn't surprised that he is still alive when news of his death had reached the capital years ago. If he is thinking of his last Agni Kai. If he is thinking of the last time they'd seen each other.

(Shadows creeping up the bed, her injured brother lying in the infirmary, bandages draped across the left side of his face. Breathing shallowly, too shallowly. A younger sister standing in the doorway, pressing her fingernails into the palms of her hands until they bled. The want, the urge, to scream, to wail, to cry. To hurt somebody, something. The knowledge that there was nothing she could do, the resignation of turning away, of letting go.)

(No more.)

She takes a bending stance, her arms poised and ready. The nobles come to see her coronation have rushed to the sidelines, hiding behind pillars to protect themselves from the flames, that girl clad in blue and the beast Zuko came with among them but still separate, lingering on the outer edges of the plaza.

The comet's power flows unhindered through her veins, begging to be let out, begging to burn.

Azula takes a deep breath and obeys.

Her flames are hotter than they've ever been before. It takes her no effort at all to conjure up walls of flame, to spit fire like a living dragon, to dance around the plaza on a torrent of brilliant blue flame, the azure color striking in a world full of red.

The last time she'd sparred with her brother, she'd bested him without even breaking a sweat. But that was a long time ago, and they have both changed.

He is surer in his bending now. More steady. More controlled. He still lacks precision but there is a sort of raw power behind his moves, behind the way he calls flames to his fingers. His orange clashes with her blue, creating shadows. The sounds of the steady torrents of fire are a cacophony among the startled screams of the nobles when a flame strays too far in their direction.

Azula has to stop herself from laughing as it would disrupt her breath control. She is fighting an Agni Kai against her own brother, potentially to the death, and she has the urge to laugh.

Truth is, this is the best she's felt in months. Years, even.

This is exhilarating.

She has never been so powerful before, has never been so sure of herself. She is Azula, and today she is taking destiny into her own hands. Today, she is changing the course of history, altering the way people will remember her forever.

And Zuko is good. Little incompetent Zuzu is good. He is a match for her, her equal in every sense of the word. She didn't exactly know what to expect when she'd anticipated him coming here, when she'd seen that report from the Bei Fong house.

But this is more than she'd ever hoped for.

He is trying to outlast her, preserving his strength but not holding back either. He is choosing his moves carefully, and when he takes an unfamiliar stance and parts her wall of fire like an earthbender, she considers herself impressed.

Zuko is adapting.

It's not traditional, but then again, he's never been one for tradition, has he?

Her blue flames crash against his wave of fire - also a new move. She chances a glance at the sky overhead, then at the crowd surrounding them, anxiously watching.

She'd handpicked most of the nobles in attendance. Can't leave anything up to chance.

As thrilling as this is, she has made her point. It's time to end this and move forwards with her plan.

She stops abruptly, holding out her hands. Zuko does the same, albeit in a more aggressive stance, ready for her next attack, undoubtedly wondering what her next move will be.

The world stands still.

And Azula-

Azula is loyal.

She thinks that this is perhaps the most genuine part of her. The only part she truly knows.

She had not been loyal to her mother.

She had not been loyal to her father.

She is not even loyal to the Fire Lord.

She is loyal to the Fire Nation, and the Fire Nation only.

Her nation before all else. If the prize she must pay, the thing she must sacrifice, is her life, her happiness, her chance at redemption and salvation and all the pretty things she'd only dared to dream about within the darkness of night and the whispers of shadows, then so be it.

She does not care if she is painted as a villain or a hero, a tragedy or a victory.

She is Azula and she is loyal to the Fire Nation.

(She thinks that maybe, she can learn to be loyal to her brother too.)

(She thinks that maybe, she can learn to be loyal to herself too.)

(After all, Azula is not simply one piece but many. These different sides of her, the individual pieces that lay scattered before her, that she tore out of herself with her own blood-red claws at the wish of another, are hers to be found, hers to be discovered. These emotions are hers to feel, hers to live.)

(She thinks she can live with that. She thinks she can be free of the chains that try to pull her into the darkness, of the cold flames that try to burn her from the inside out. She thinks there is a chance at happiness somewhere in her future.)

Azula has never loved her father, and her father has never loved her. She is a tool to be used and discarded when no longer useful. A tool for war and bloodshed.

So she made sure to stay useful.

She's not sure if she ever loved anyone. Not her father, definitely not her mother. Not her uncle with his tea and silly jokes that only ever wasted time. Not Lu Ten, gone off to play soldier before she ever got a chance to really know him.

But there is another.

Zuko. What is Zuko?

A coward. A weakling. A failure.

Soft, pathetic, small, slow.

But he is still her brother.

Family doesn't mean anything. Not to her. She can't afford for it to mean something.

If it did, she would have to acknowledge that there is a problem that cannot be fixed. She is Azula, she can't have that.

But no more.

Zuko was the only one who ever came close to understanding her. The only one who could understand what it meant to have Fire Lord Ozai as a father, the only one who knew what it meant to grow up with impossible expectations placed on her shoulders, the only one who was familiar with the eyes that were always watching her, waiting for her to slip up, to make a mistake, for their chance to devour her alive and take her place.

(Shadows creeping up her bed, reaching out with their impossibly sharp claws, a scared girl clutching her blankets, an older brother sitting beside her, running his fingers through her hair in soothing motions, ssh Azula, it's gonna be okay, you're gonna be fine, I'm here, I'll protect you, always-)

And that means something to her.

So under a blood-red sky, a girl with the world at her fingertips lays down her empire.

Azula bows.

—

The world stands still for a second.

There is heat, and there is pain. There is blackness, and there is red, so much red, how can there be so much red-

Sokka hauls to his feet, his grip on Toph not slackening the least. She hisses at the jerk of her arm but there is no time, the goddamn ship they're on just exploded, and they are going down rapidly.

That realization is not only confirmed by the sinking feeling in his stomach but also by a simple look outside the window.

He kinda expected this would happen, given that the gasses the Fire Nation is utilizing are highly flammable (which is a great combination with firebenders, if you ask him, seriously, where does the Fire Nation get their ideas from), but he also kinda hoped it wouldn't. At least on their ship. Well, there's his penance. There is no arguing with science.

He jerks Toph around, ignoring her cry of protest because if he lets her go, he is afraid that she will fall to her death or be scorched to her death by a fireball or literally any other situation that involves her death could happen so he just... doesn't. Let go of her.

Another glance out the... newly-torn window in the hallway - which is thankfully cleared of the soldiers, and he does not think about the reason why that is, just that it benefits them rather nicely - confirms that at least some of the plan went right - most of the airships are destroyed. Some exploded, some are still exploding, some are well on their way to the ground.

He sets his sight on the rest of the fleet, still flying on undisturbed.

They've gotta change that.

But first, they've gotta make it there.

Sokka starts running in the direction of the nearest airship, Toph in tow. He stumbles several times as the airship is rattled by yet another explosion, as they encounter bodies lying motionless on the floor, as holes as wide as Appa suddenly open up in front of them. His stomach feels like it's going to empty all its contents every moment now, the armor on his body clings to his frame like a lizard-snake trying to choke its prey, how do people even move in these things, sweat is running down his face, he is hot, he is dizzy, his leg feels a little funny, but he ignores it all, just presses on, presses on, presses on-

There. The edge. They've reached the edge of the airship, and there is no way to go further. The closest airship of the still-flying fleet is just a few meters away, but that distance is rapidly expanding, and it's already too big to jump.

"Toph!"

The panting earthbender beside him snaps to attention. "Huh?"

"There is another airship right in front of us, two Appa's away maybe, you gotta-"

Before he has a chance to finish the sentence, Toph has already launched them into the air. The scream that comes out of his mouth is not very manly but that's okay, taking down an airship fleet is plenty manly, and then they are landing, and then they are missing, why are they missing-

They land on the catwalk under the ship, both narrowly avoiding falling to their death. He takes no time to thank the spirits that this actually worked, that they've made it this far, and stands up, ignoring the way his body aches all over. Toph beside him does the same, and together they make it into the airship.

Well. They don't make it far into the airship.

Soldiers are already awaiting them, wasting no time to shoot fire at them. He draws his sword, reflecting a couple of fireblasts and dodging the rest. The heat tickles uncomfortably close to his skin, he can sense a few of his hairs getting singed but doesn't have time to dwell on that as another soldier comes at him, no fire but a sword in his hands, and oh, that he can deal with.

He can't, however, deal with the reinforcements that come.

Spirits, how many people are there on this ship? Had there been this many on the one they'd capsized? He didn't think so, but then again, he didn't have to fight them all on a still-functioning airship.

There's too much. There's simply too much.

Fortunately, Toph seems to have realized the same as she waves him over to a hallway not wide enough to fit more than two people standing side by side, and brings the ground up to form a barrier between them and the murderous firebenders.

Handy, these metallbenders.

They waste no time in turning to run up the stairs and then along the hallways that will bring them to the control room. At least he hopes that's the way to the control room, he didn't quite have the time to orient himself with the overly enthusiastic welcome and all. The angry shouts and footsteps following them tell him that he's at least picked the right direction.

They turn a corner, Toph a step in front of him, and oh-

That's a lot of soldiers.

And even more are coming from the opposite side, how were they faster than them, how-

They attack.

And he and Toph fight back, because they gotta get into that room, they gotta turn that steering wheel before it's too late, and there is a soldier coming at him from that direction and a fireball from that direction, and there are simply too many soldiers, how are they gonna get through them all guarding that stupid door-

Falling.

The sensation of falling.

And then he's not falling anymore, he is gripping the edges of the hole that just got torn into the ground, the ground that is making up the difference between standing and falling to death, Toph be more careful next time-

A soldier. Right in front of him. Lifting his foot, about to step on his fingers, the fingers he is using to desperately hold on, no matter how slippery it is, no matter how much it hurts to dig his fingernails into the unforgiving metal-

(Once, when he was little, Katara accidentally capsized their canoe, still learning how to properly bend.

Sokka fell into the arctic water. It had chilled him to the core, giving him the feeling that he would never be warm again. The cold had paralyzed him, rendered his limbs useless. He could only watch as he descended further and further into the deep, his lungs running out of air, the surface disappearing from sight, everything he ever knew and loved gone, an undescribable terror gripping him, crushing him.

This feels just like then.

And then Dad had doven after him and hauled him back to the surface.)

The soldier gets rammed into the wall by an angry Toph. She slips out of the bending stance and grips his arm, hauls him further and further away from certain death. His legs are still dangling over the abyss but the rest of his body is lying on metal, and he's never been so glad to have that cold and unforgiving material under him before.

By the time he gets to his feet, Toph is already taking on a dozen soldiers by herself, and Sokka narrowly dodges getting sliced into two by a fire whip. He grips his sword, slits the throat of one soldier, knocks another down, kicks another through the hole he just narrowly avoided falling through, and doesn't think about the way anxiety fills the men's eyes just before they realize they're about to lose, doesn't think about the way the soldier that picked him up earlier on the first airship talked about his family and wanting to go on a vacation and about how some of his jokes had actually been funny as they worked on the ropes to the gas bags, doesn't think about the sounds he hears as Toph does her best to crush every single firebender in the hallway, only thinks about how he has to get through that door, and now.

But there is no getting through that door.

He doesn't want to see it, but he does.

More and more soldiers pour into the hallway, cutting off their escape routes, standing between them and the control room. Sokka is doing his best at fighting off as many soldiers as he can, and Toph as well, but there are simply too many. He is getting tired and his lungs really need a breath of fresh air soon and his body is aching all over and his hands are sweaty and for every soldier he cuts down, there appears another and then another and another and another.

They can't win this, it's impossible-

Maybe they don't have to.

"Toph!" he yells over the sounds of shouts and steel and fire. "That hallway, now!" He indicates another hallway to his right with his hand, hoping that her senses are focused enough on him to pick the gesture up. She does, rushing after him. Just as all the firebenders do because they of course have also heard his yell.

He kicks another soldier, rams him into the wall hard enough to stun him just as Toph does the same, and then rushes further up the hallway. Before any of the soldiers can follow them, Toph has brought up the ground and barricaded the hallway.

"Okay, what now?" Her voice is strained, her breath uneven and quick, there is blood splattered all over her face and clothes, and he's never seen her look quite that exhausted. Or scared.

"The rudder." He nods upwards. "We can't get into the control room, but if you can bend the rudder, then we can crash this ship into the others."

"Got it."

They make their way up the stairs, down another hallway, up yet another staircase. He's not sure where exactly they are but figures that doesn't matter. The rudder is on the top of the ship, they're gonna get up there somehow.

Footsteps and yells behind them, as expected. They don't have long to find their destination, and he's running out of breath. Thankfully, Toph yanks him down another hallway, rounds the corner, and then up another staircase and oh.

A blood-red sky greets them.

Perfect.

The rudder is a massive thing just on the other side of the ship, and they waste no time running there. It's not the easiest thing, flying airships are shaky, and there are no railings to protect them because normally people aren't even meant to be up here, and definitely not when the ship is hundreds of feet in the air, but Sokka is ignoring that and absolutely not looking down at the abyss below into certain death.

Apropos death.

Death is, as usual, right behind them.

Toph kicks him in the shins, and before he has time to complain, a fireball flies where his body was a mere second before. He looks over his shoulder, sees very homicidal-looking firebenders climbing their way up, and runs.

The sensation of heat is uncomfortably close to his back but he doesn't look back, doesn't stop, just keeps running, running, running-

They are there. Toph skidders to a halt, her hands already in a bending position, and yanks. And the rudder - the rudder follows with a loud screeching sound that seems to punctuate his eardrums, the instinct to clap his hands over his ears impossible to ignore-

A kick in the ribs.

Softened by the armor - thanks again, Fire Nation - but still a kick in the ribs. He falls to the ground, searching for his sword, but there is no sword anymore, it's sliding down the side of the airship, and then it's getting closer, why is it getting closer, why is the ground getting closer-

Another screeching sound. The wall right under him curves upwards, and his descent into certain death is stopped. He looks up, panting heavily, and sees Toph fighting off two more firebenders. And he is - he is here, not being able to do anything because his sword is lost and crawling up will take too long to help her, and-

He fumbles under the armor until he finds what he's looking for, then gets up to stand, ignoring the fact that one misstep will have him slipping and falling to his death, waits for a second until both targets are in line - very nice of them to row up like this for him, very nice indeed -, and jumps.

The boomerang leaves his hand with a familiar swishing sound at the highest point of his jump, and he leans forward so as to not stumble backward and off the ledge. When he looks up again just a second later, two soldiers are down and sliding off the side of the airship, his boomerang flying over his head and away into the distance.

He'd really liked that boomerang.

Then there is another screeching sound, a sound he would have never thought to love this much. There are more soldiers coming their way now, but that doesn't matter anymore because Toph has finished bending the rudder and the airship is now on an unstoppable crash course with the last few remaining ships.

With him still clinging to the side, about to be crushed between two airships in about a minute if his estimates are correct.

Sokka hastily scrambles up the side, ignoring how bloody his fingernails are or how his arms and legs and just absolutely everything aches. Toph is moving the metal under the soldiers coming for them, disrupting their fireballs, and then they are crashing into another airship with rapid speed.

It doesn't feel much different than crashing into an airship and doing so from inside, but the danger of falling off is infinitely higher now. Toph quickly encases their feet in metal but that doesn't stop him from falling forwards at an unfortunate angle, his arm is gonna hate him after this is all over, and then there is another airship right in front of them, and something is exploding, he's not sure what or where, but then there is another crash, and there are screams and the loud sound of metal screeching, and-

Sokka opens his eyes.

There are no more airships left in the sky.

Which is good.

Very good.

They've done their job, they've done their mission. They've saved the South Pole from being immolated, they've saved home from being immolated.

But on the other hand - they are falling. And there is no other airship to run to this time.

—

There is a sinking feeling in her stomach.

There is a sinking feeling in her stomach that they are falling to their death and can't do a single thing about it.

"Sokka?" And her voice comes out more high-pitched than she'd like to, but she also doesn't care, because imminent death. "Please don't say that what I suspect is happening, is actually happening."

"Uhm."

And Toph doesn't really have time to process that because there is a screaming noise inside her head, and it is mixed with the sound of metal screeching, of soldiers dying, of fireballs, of her own voice screaming, of Sokka screaming, of the certain feeling of doom and death and what did they expect to happen sinking a whole airship fleet of course they'd go down with it they are hundreds of feet in the air there is not a single thing they can do-

A tight grip on her shoulders.

"Toph. Release our feet."

And his voice sounds calmer than her own, sounds more collected and accepting of what is happening. And she doesn't want to die, she knows what she signed up for but it's a whole lot different when you talk about it and then when it actually happens but hey, at least she went out kicking some Fire Nation ass-

She pushes through the nausea and that weird feeling in her stomach that comes with falling and the rushing wind robbing her of her breath, and releases their feet.

She immediately wishes she hadn't as they now aren't anchored to the airship anymore. The wind is beginning to push her off the ship, to push Sokka off the ship, and why did he say that, why did she listen, that was obviously a stupid idea.

She can sense him crouching, can sense him crane his neck to look over the side of the ship, and then he is standing, is he crazy, and then he is tugging her with him, is he insane-

"I want you to jump on three, okay?" He has to scream to be heard over the rushing wind and she can sense him pressing his back to the misformed rudder.

"What?"

"If we go down with the ship we'll be dragged underwater, but if we jump off before that can happen we might make it."

And that's just about the craziest idea she's ever heard.

"You're insane!" she screams.

"Just hold on tight to me," comes the equally yelled answer. "One."

Oh spirits, why did she ever agree to come here.

"Two."

She hates water, she hates it, just like she hates the sound of skulls being crushed under her hands and the feeling of wanting to see her parents again even though she is not weak, she is not scared, she is-

"Three!"

They jump.

And for a moment, the world stands still. For a moment, there is nothing.

There is only the sensation of falling and the wind rushing past her, of a warm hand tightly gripping her arm, of nausea in her gut.

Then, the water engulfs them.

It's colder than anticipated, so, so much colder than the heat of the fire above, and - and she can't swim.

She's never learned, why would she learn, she is blind, she can't sense anything in water, her parents never let her anyway and there simply were other things on her mind after she joined Aang, it simply wasn't a priority even though she'd maybe like to learn one day, a day far off in the future, a day that won't happen if she doesn't get out of this water soon.

She kicks limply with her arms, tries to find Sokka's hand again after she felt it let go of her arm upon crashing into the sea, but there is nothing, there is absolutely nothing, but she can feel herself sinking. She can feel herself sinking and, just like a hundred feet above in the sky, she can do nothing about it.

Toph hates feeling helpless.

Toph hates being helpless.

But right now she is, and it doesn't matter how much she kicks and paddles, how much she searches for Sokka's helping hand in the void, how much she wishes that she were not fucking blind for just this moment because then at least she'd be able to orient herself instead of being suspended into nothing, into a void, free for any overgrown monster of the deep to just snatch her up and consume her like she's a mid-afternoon snack.

This is just like the swamp, she is just as helpless as she was then, except that then the water wasn't spirits know how many feet deep, and that now there is no monster - hopefully - but then there was Sokka to help her, then she didn't just kill so many people she could still feel their blood staining her hands, then she didn't just escape the promise of a fiery death, then she wished for parents and friends just like she does now, then she was just as afraid that she could cry and open her mouth and let water into her lungs-

A hand.

Gripping her.

Hauling her upwards.

She does her best to help with uncoordinated kicks that probably don't do anything except make her feel better; she digs her fingernails into the hand, her lungs are burning for air, they need it now, now, now-

Toph breaches the surface, propped up by Sokka beside her. The air feels heavenly in her lungs, she's never been so grateful for air, she sure gotta tell Twinkletoes about that when she sees him again, and she doesn't care about the heavy breaths she takes or that there are tears in her eyes, or that she is hanging limply at Sokka's side as he swims towards - towards what, actually?

The shore, apparently.

She is distributed none too gently onto the shore but she doesn't care because sand. Heavenly, grainy, sticky, real sand. Under her fingers, under her feet, under her entire body.

She buries her face in it, and lets out a grateful, muffled laugh.

Chapter 34: Thirty-Three

Notes:

Believe it or not, this is actually the penultimate chapter. I thought about breaking this thing off into two parts but I feel that would just interrupt the flow of the story so I left it as is. God, I cannot believe we're almost at the end.

Chapter Text

The airship fleet is approaching.

He can see it clearly from his perch on the mountain, the dark glint of the metal-clad ships a telltale sign against the scarlet sky.

Aang breathes in, stokes his inner fire, feels the currents of wind around him.

The comet is powering his fire but what he needs right now is wind.

There is an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach - dread. Anxiety. Guilt. Fear.

He is scared. He is alone and he is scared to death.

He is a sixteen-year-old boy, awoken from an iceberg after a hundred years, thrown into a war-torn world that couldn't be more different from his own.

But he has adapted. He has learned the four elements, has toured the world, has done everything in his power to fulfill his destiny.

And this is it.

This is his destiny.

He is the Avatar. He is alone and scared and sixteen, but he is the Avatar and this is his destiny and right now, the world comes first.

The world must always come first.

So he takes a deep breath in and stands up. He begins moving his arms in circular motions, calls on the winds to obey him, calls to the spirits to guide him. They are with him, he knows this.

Conjuring up a storm is exhilarating. It's terrifying and yet the power he feels is thrilling. The winds around him move faster and faster, obey his every command, increase in their strength.

Only master airbenders can summon storms.

How fortunate that he is the youngest airbending master in centuries.

(He is the last airbe-

He is the Avatar.)

It's exhausting but the comet gives him strength, the adrenaline rushing through his veins aiding him. Stones around him come loose and begin their descent to the ground, his clothes buff up in the wind. The airships come closer and closer, not to be deterred by a lone figure on a mountain.

In front of the rest of the ships is an ostentatious airship clad in gold and metal, the design of a dragon head adorning its front.

It's gaudy.

It's tasteless.

It tells him he is right where he needs to be.

—

The High Temple is quiet around her, impossibly still.

Katara has traveled the Fire Nation quite a bit, so she is used to the ostentatiousness by now, but this temple still manages to exceed her expectations.

Black walls and a red gabled roof on the outside, golden and scarlet accented walls on the inside, torches lining the halls and creating shadows that only add to the mystic vibe, not to mention the blood-red sky visible through the few windows.

She feels like an intruder with her blue tunic and blue eyes, but she keeps her head held high nonetheless. She is Water Tribe, and she is proud, and she will cower before no one, not even in the heart of the enemy.

Besides, it's not like there's anyone here to judge her anyway. The High Temple is deserted, no sages, no visitors. The whole royal district seems deserted in fact, on this day that should mean victory to these people. It's ironic, she thinks. The comet passes overhead and its own subjects cower before it in fear.

Zuko left with Azula after she unexpectedly yielded and declared him the victor of their Agni Kai - declared him Fire Lord.

Katara still can't believe it, and a part of her screams that this is a trap. From what she heard of Azula, she wouldn't just give up like that. She wouldn't just give the crown over to her banished brother and defy her father, not like that. And if Ozai, Tui and La forbid, comes back - and that would mean... no, she's not thinking about that - but if Ozai came back, then Azula surely wouldn't fight alongside her supposed failure of a brother and risk getting killed? No, she wouldn't, of course she wouldn't. Or maybe she's waiting for her father to come back to present him Zuko on a silver platter, Katara doesn't know. There's gotta be something more, there's gotta be.

It doesn't make sense.

But for now, Katara can't do anything. Zuko assured her that he would be fine and that his sister couldn't legally attack him after surrendering to him in an Agni Kai, it would compromise her legal right to the throne. They had witnesses, nobles who held power in court. A united display of strength was mandatory to be respected as Fire Lord, Azula suddenly changing her mind and declaring herself Fire Lord after yielding to her brother would compromise her position of power.

But Zuko can tell her that all he wants, Katara still doesn't believe in the supposed honor of these people. Not all firebenders are bad, yes, but these people were born into wealth stolen from the rest of the world, born with a golden spoon in their mouths and the ear of the Fire Lord at their side. These were the people who decided what settlement was to be destroyed next, what part of the world to be conquered and oppressed next, what culture to eradicate and erase from the world next.

Had they wanted to make a difference, they would have done it by now. But no. These were the people profiting the most from this senseless war, getting richer and richer off of stolen gains, sending people to their deaths every day.

She has no compassion for these people, no understanding at all. They don't deserve it, and so she walks these halls proud and tall, the first foreigner to visit this temple in a hundred years.

Well, officially. They did sneak through this temple to get to the Dragonbone Catacombs all these weeks ago, where they learned of the fate the Fire Nation had in store for the Water Tribes.

She thinks about her people. They should be in the Earth Kingdom by now, safe from harm, but if Aang, Sokka and Toph didn't succeed, if they failed to stop the airship fleet, the poles would be burned to the ground nonetheless. All their houses, the palace, the water canals, all the resources and trees growing further inland, all the buffalo yaks and polar bear dogs - gone.

The Fire Nation likes to call her home a frozen wasteland, but that is not true. There were plenty of fish in the icy waters, plenty of animals in the evergreen forests inland, plenty of berries and wood and other resources if you knew where to look. Sure, living at the poles was harder than anywhere else, but perfectly manageable if you had perseverance.

Which her people have. They are so strong, so adaptable.

But even they wouldn't be able to rebuild everything like it was before. They wouldn't be able to gather resources from the forest, to hunt animals to stay alive. It would take many years until the poles would recover and be able to support life, and until then, her tribe couldn't possibly hide in the Earth Kingdom without being discovered by the Fire Nation.

It simply wasn't possible.

Her people would be eradicated next. She can't let happen, she can't.

The thought fills her with rage, with determination, with the urge to move, to do something. It trickles in her veins, makes her itchy, makes her breath come faster, her heart pump faster.

But no. She is in the capital of the Fire Nation; from here, she cannot do anything.

Something in her mind whispers to her that yes, there is something she could do. Kill Azula. Don't give her the chance to do the same to her brother.

But that wouldn't be fair to Zuko. It would compromise his right to the throne and cause a civil war. And it's his sister after all, even after all that. She can't do that to him, not when she knows how complicated sibling relationships can get.

She hopes Sokka is okay. They said their proper goodbyes, there is nothing left unsaid between them. Were he to not come back... at least she would know that he understands. At least she would have made up with her brother, these last few months rocky and messy and complicated, but still together.

He has to come back. He simply has to. She refuses to entertain any other thought.

She thinks about Toph, fighting alongside her brother. They make a good team. A few (many) firebenders have nothing on them. They'll be fine.

And Aang is the Avatar. He has only mastered one element, but he is nearly at master level in the other ones. Plus - fate should be on his side. He is the world spirit. Fate wouldn't just allow him to be shot down, right?

She ignores the doubts creeping into her mind telling her that she's not a child anymore, she can't hope for some unknown entity to do the work for her.

Aang will pull through. He will have to break his people's most sacred custom, but he will do it, she knows it. He will do it, he will kill the Fire Lord, and he will save them all.

There is no other option. They have trained too hard to fail now, they have come too far to simply give up.

Katara comes to a halt. She's been wandering the halls aimlessly with no goal but to calm her raging mind, but now she's standing in front of what she thinks to be a depiction of Agni.

Two heads, four arms, eyes the color of molten gold, veins made of lava, fire surrounding the vague humanoid figure, spewing out of its mouth, its hands, surrounding and engulfing it completely.

Yes, she thinks. This is Agni.

She stands before the depiction for a few moments, studies it. She's never actually seen Agni, only heard of him. Now that she does, she thinks he looks terrifying. Fitting for people who believe themselves superior to the rest of the world.

But there's also something elegant about him, something majestic, something proud.

Yes, the Fire Nation nearly destroyed the world, but there is always a light side to the dark one: they are also passion, warmth, determination.

This god watching over these people isn't evil. He simply is.

She never felt a special connection with him as a firebender, not like Zuko must, but she wielded fire and she understood fire and she came to accept it as a part of her, and she thinks that must count for something. Zuko tells her Agni is benevolent. She chooses to believe him.

And so Katara kneels down before him, before the god of the enemy, and prays.

Prays that his people find the light. Prays that her friends make it out save. Prays that this war ends today, that the world can finally breathe freely after a century of war.

She has to believe that he will hear her prayers, that he will do what is best for his nation.

She has to believe-

"Well, I expected a lot, but certainly not this."

She stands abruptly, turns around, and-

No.

This can't be. It can't, how?

She blinks, hoping her mind is playing tricks on her.

But no. There she stands, clad in her usual blue.

Hama.

—

Riding a storm is... awe-inspiring. It's thrilling, it's exciting, it's spectacular, it's... scary.

This is probably the most terrifying thing he's ever done. Flashes of another storm, a century and a world away, light up in his mind like the lightning flashing around him. He keeps searching for Appa, keeps seeing the waves of the southern sea churn up to swallow him up, to devour him whole. The sensation of letting go of Appa's reigns, of an unworldly power awakening within him and the whole world glowing white, keeps coursing through his veins like the power of the comet.

But this is not then.

Aang concentrates on the airships before him. The winds are doing their own thing now, speeding past him in unimaginably fast currents. He only helped get them started, they are now their own master.

The Fire Nation undoubtedly has taken notice of him now. They don't alter the course of the ships, pressing steadily onwards instead like a force of doom.

Master Gyatso once told him that the people of the Fire Nation possess the will and desire to achieve what they want.

Even if that something is genocide.

He always questioned that behavior, even back when his world was still intact. If something wasn't achievable, then it was best to set his sights on another goal.

But then again, he isn't a megalomanic Fire Lord.

Speaking of.

The Fire Lord's ostentatious airship looms before him, the eyes of its dragon head boring into him, analyzing him, looking into his soul and finding him wanting. He is eminently reminded of the Lion Turtle, but then pushes the thought out of his head.

The Fire Lord doesn't get to judge him.

Besides - he has a job to do.

They're almost entirely over the ocean now, only brilliant blue water underneath for miles and miles.

Aang takes a deep breath.

This isn't something that he wants to do. This isn't something that he feels comfortable doing. This isn't something that he'll just shrug off once it's over (if it's over). He will have nightmares for the rest of his life, the all too familiar guilt churning in his stomach, eating him from the inside out.

But this is something that he has to do. For himself. For his friends. For the world.

This isn't revenge. He isn't avenging his people - violence is not the answer to that. Forgiveness is. But violence is the answer to certain matters - sometimes. And that time is now.

He takes another breath.

Then he attacks.

And he hates himself for it. He hates how the way the wind listens to his every wish, obeys his every command without a moment's hesitation, makes him feel alive, makes him feel powerful. There is power coursing through his veins in many different ways, there is air in his lungs and water in his veins, earth in his bones and fire in his strength.

He is the Avatar. He is the vessel of the world spirit, the bridge between this world and the spirit world, and he is laying his judgment upon the Fire Nation and finding them guilty.

The first airship goes down. He creates a wind slice so powerful it cuts clean through the metal, causing it to tumble down into the depths of the ocean below.

There were people on this ship - no, there are people on this ship.

And he killed them.

Dread coils in his gut, making him nauseous. For a brief second, he is distracted, staring down at the disaster he just caused.

But this is a necessary evil.

He doesn't believe in the analogy of 'this is for the better good' because at some point, one inevitably loses sight of their goal, but this is something he has to do. These people are merely soldiers following orders but they'd burn him to a crisp in record time should he come near them to try and talk to them. They'd burn the North Pole to a crisp if he'd let them come near it.

He has a job to do, and no one ever said the Avatar's job was easy.

(To be the Avatar is to be alone.)

Aang sets his sight on the next airship in the row. They've altered course, speeding up and angling away from him, but still struggling against the storm. If nothing else, the storm will slow them down, give the Water Tribe more time to evacuate should he fail.

But he won't fail.

He can't.

He simply can't.

He presses forward, feeling the winds buff up his clothes, feeling a chill on his skin. The sky overhead is still red, still the color of blood, and when he makes a bending motion to blow the next airship out of the sky, he is greeted with a few powerful fireblasts.

Ah. He wondered when they would retaliate.

He dodges, feeling the unnatural warmth of the superpowered fire on his skin singing the fine hairs there. Dodging in the air is easier than it is on land - and he's had enough practice with both now - but there are also certain drawbacks: if he loses his momentum, he starts falling.

It's easy to bend himself back up again, to ride higher on the fast winds all around him, but it costs energy.

A lot of energy.

And there is another fireblast from another airship, and there is another, and another and he is dodging, he is dodging but the fire is getting nearer, is so big it's getting really hard to dodge-

The second airship goes down.

Aang tunes out the faint panicked screams that reach his ears over the wind.

(He wonders how Sokka and Toph are doing, tasked with the same assignment on the other end of the world. He hopes they're okay.)

He makes a whirling motion with his hands, circles the wind around himself, making it speed up faster and faster before directing it against another airship right in front of him-

A gust of fire rushes past him, just missing his outstretched arm. He quickly jumps to the side, turns around-

Oh.

Ozai's airship has altered its course. It's coming straight at him now.

Something in his mind begs him to concentrate on that one. To take out Ozai, because if he does that, then the others surely will abort the mission and go home. Right?

Wrong, the bigger part of him says. He has to see this through, even if it destroys him on the inside. He has to do this thoroughly.

Airships aren't particularly fast or agile - but they are steady.

He can use that to his advantage.

He jumps out of the way on an air current, lets it carry him away from Ozai's ship and near two other ships. He tucks at the winds, commands them to push into two different directions on the outside of the two ships.

The airships are flying away from him at a steady speed, but they are no match for a storm. They go up in flames as they crash together, falling towards the ocean below.

Another fireblast forces him to look away from the spectacle.

The Fire Lord, it seems, is done playing.

"So, what's the plan?" Zuko asks as soon as they step into a private chamber, the torches on the walls making the air feel stuffy, the red tapestries trapping the heat inside.

Azula turns to where he is standing with his arms crossed in front of the door. She raises an eyebrow, lets her eyes rove over him. Zuko's not sure how to feel about that, but then again, he's not sure how to feel about many things today. If the world was confusing before, it makes so sense at all now.

"This, dear Zuzu," Azula answers after a second, "is the plan." She gives him an indignant expression as if he insulted her in some way. And maybe he did, she always used to tell him that his mere presence was offensive to her.

"Oh, okay, so where are the guards waiting to apprehend me? Or are you waiting for Father to come back so that you can execute me in front of him?"

She huffs. "I'm offended," she says, laying a hand over her heart. "Do you really think I would do such a thing?" Her expression is that of mock indignation.

It's a game. It's all a game to her, always has been, and he can't help but feel uneasy.

But two can play that game. He's not that scared little boy anymore.

"Yes, I would," he chances and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

She preens at that, a triumphant expression on her face, her smile wide. "Hm, I see you haven't lost your touch. I was afraid the Earth Kingdom made you soft."

He laughs at that. "Nah, nothing could ever make me forget you." It's as close to a compliment as he'll give her. Even after all these years, after exile and death, they still pick up their banter exactly where they left off. But he can't relax around her, can't forget that Katara is still waiting outside, that his friends are fighting near the poles right now. He came here on a mission, and he will see this through, family or not. "I see Ozai didn't whittle you down," he says, and now it's his turn to look her up and down.

The last time he saw her, she was in the middle of puberty, with too long limbs and too big eyes, but hands full of fire and a mouth full of lies. She looks like he imagined she would look. Tall, not as tall as him, but tall for her age. Her hair is perfect of course, black and long and glossy. She is more muscular now, and he could see those muscles work during their Agni Kai, could see their strength and elegance and poise. Her bending is as good as always, even better, precise and deadly. Only a few strands of hair still clinging to her sweaty skin give away that they fought moments ago, her breathing is even and steady, controlled, always controlled.

But there is something in her eyes, something new, something that wasn't there before. It's hard to spot, and she does her best to hide it, but he is her brother. He could spot it from a mile away. That's what siblings are for, no matter how complicated their relationship could get.

Before him stands his sister, his strong and perfect sister, the one who bested him in every fight, the one who zapped him with her lightning, the one who burned half of his hair off. The one he held at night when she was too scared of the shadows in her room, the one whose hand he held under water after a particularly bad burn.

"He tried," she replies and tilts her chin up, narrows her eyes just a bit to not miss even the smallest reaction on his face. "He didn't succeed."

"Naturally." He'll have to give her that.

Neither of them says anything for a moment, looking each other up and down. He can see how her eyes linger on the left side of his face, on his hair, rove down his arms, his chest, his legs. She's not the only one who changed. Exile hardened him, in more ways than one.

"Azula-" he begins, but gets cut off.

"I thought you were dead, you know."

He doesn't say anything to that. Can't say anything to that because really, what do you say to your sister who thought you were dead, who watched with a smile on her face as you were burned by your own father, who didn't even say goodbye when you were banished?

What do you say to that?

He holds her gaze for a moment, then looks away. "It's... complicated."

"I imagine." Her voice doesn't give anything away, the tone perfectly even.

After another silent moment, Zuko gathers the courage to speak. "Look-"

"Oh, I know," she interrupts, and he looks at her at that. "I know that you trained the Avatar and joined the rebellion." She huffs, pushes hair out of her face. "I mean, I always told Father: sending you off without any hope to ever return home? Of course you'd join a rebellion. That's psychology 101." And there is something behind her smile, something that threatens to crack.

It hurts to see.

"Well, Father never really planned long-term." It's a test to see how she'll react.

"No, he didn't," Azula allows and looks away for a second, before finding his eyes again. "But I did." And she holds his gaze at that, and he's not sure if it's a challenge or a threat or both.

Probably both.

And as much as he missed his sister, even after all her lies and cruel laughs and too-hot flames, even after all that happened - he came here for a reason. He promised his uncle, his friends, the world. Himself.

And he will see this through, no matter what. This is too important.

He tilts his chin up. "You know why I'm here." His voice is hard, not cruel but not soft either. She needs to see that he won't back down. He's not scared anymore, and he is not afraid to show her all he learned.

She eyes his face for a moment, her eyes darting around, this way, that way. "Yes, I do," she replies after a second filled with silence and the soft crackle of the torches. "Of course I do."

He exhales, resists the urge to look away. "Then you know what I'll have to do."

"Correct." He tries to decipher her voice, her expression, the way she stands. But there's nothing there to decipher, Azula as hard to read as ever. He wonders if she can still read him like she always could, if she can still tell his worst fears just by looking at him, laying out his insecurities for all the world to laugh at. A shiver runs down his spine and his muscles tense, anxiety curdling in his gut.

"And what... you'll just allow your failure of a brother to take the throne? Your throne? I trained the Avatar - the Avatar that is currently at the North Pole and fighting Ozai." And he's had nightmares about this exact situation, about his open admission of treason. But he can't take the words back anymore and he won't. So he waits to see her reaction, to plot his next steps.

She looks away for a second and there is something on her face he didn't expect. Sadness? Is that really sadness?

"Well..." she says without looking at him, her eyes trained on the ground. "It was never my throne anyway."

And that... is not something he expected. He expected a lot of things but not... that. Whatever that is. He waits for her to elaborate, because what do you say to that?

She does after a few moments, finally looking him in the eyes again, that sadness still on her face, but also something new - determination. Resignation.

It's not something he ever expected to see on Azula's face.

"I'm sure you've heard of the fancy new title he wants to give himself? Phoenix King?" She says that last part almost mockingly, and he agrees. It does sound rather... excessive. Overdone. Then again, those two words are practically his father's middle names. "Well, it renders the position of Fire Lord basically useless. Knowing him, he wouldn't let me make any decision without breathing down my neck." She almost spits that last part. "I don't need his consolation price."

And to anyone else, this would sound like a rich girl throwing a tantrum that daddy isn't giving her the entire world, his entire empire. But no, Zuko knows that there is more behind that. With Azula, what she really means is between the lines.

"So this is about securing you the most power? Because I'm easier to control?" But Zuko learned a thing or two, and he got a lot better at reading between the lines. Come on, Azula, he wills. Say it.

"Maybe it is," she replies, but there is something else to her tone. Work for it, it says, I'm not just giving it to you like that.

It's always a game with her.

"So what? I'll be a puppet king, and you'll pull the strings behind the scenes?" he challenges, and takes a step away from the door, towards her. "And then I'll die a mysterious and oh-so-tragic death a few years from now, and you'll be Fire Lord, free to do as you please?" She raises an eyebrow at that, tilts her chin up as he comes nearer and nearer. "Sounds like a perfect plan to me," he goes on, now standing directly in front of her, arms still crossed over his chest and looking down at her. "Wait for Ozai to die, then put me on the throne and dispose of me in a few years to secure your position, or wait for Ozai to come back, present me on a silver platter and give him the honor of executing me himself, and then still take the throne. Playing both sides again, huh?"

She holds his gaze unflinchingly, and if there is one thing he admires about her, it's her fearlessness. But then something changes, and he can't put his finger on it, but something about her seems off. Desperate. Not as poised and collected as usual.

"That would mean I would like for Father to come back." Her voice is low, almost a whisper, but her tone is steady and strong. Unafraid.

His eyes widen. He looks at her, studies her face. Azula is a master in the art of lying but... she's not lying now. He knows it, knows it on a primal level.

She breaks away from his gaze then, turns, goes up and down, only allowing him to see her side profile. "I always thought Father had what it takes to lead this nation, to lead the world into an era of prosperity," she says, and it sounds like it pains her to bring the words over her lips. "I always thought he and I shared a vision." She laughs, comes to a stop, looks at him. "Turns out, his vision is different from mine."

"How so?"

"He's not thinking long-term. Our economy is based on war. And the war relies on the war machine: the soldiers. The metal factories. The lower classes. But the war takes up every resource we have, churns through them faster than we can replace them. The lower classes are angry, they're hungry, they're rebelling. Did you know there were several revolts in the past few months alone? Here and in the colonies?" She shakes her head in disgust and begins to pace up and down again. "You remember Ember Island, do you not? Well, he sent me there on a 'vacation' not so long ago, and that island is falling apart. The colonies are falling apart, the Fire Nation is falling apart." Another head shake. "But he's not seeing that. No, all he sees is that ridiculous mantle of the Phoenix King, whatever that is supposed to mean, and he's not seeing how he's running this nation into the ground."

She comes to a stop. "I tried my best to help him. I tried my best to govern Yu Dao, I tried my best to subtly shift him in the right direction, so that he does what is best for the Fire Nation. But no. What does he do? He sends me away, he doesn't speak to me, he doesn't let me sit in on war meetings, he expects me to just lay down my life for him like it's nothing." There is anger on her face, and Zuko's first instinct is to take a step back, to shift into a fighting stance. Usually, that anger was directed at him, and it meant violence.

But no. This time, her ire is directed at their father.

"Father is running this nation into the ground and I can't take it anymore. If I let him continue, he won't leave me an empire, he will leave me a broken nation that is the furthest from the glory the Fire Nation deserves."

Well. That was certainly a rant.

"Then what do you think is best for the Fire Nation?" he asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes trained on her face.

Azula looks away for a second, breathing heavily after her rant. "Not him," she says. "Not Ozai."

"But what then?" He needs to know. "You?"

She huffs and looks at him again. "If I thought that, I'd have killed you and taken the throne myself."

"So that means you think I'm what's best for the nation?"

Another huff, an indignant look on her face. "I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

She looks away again as if she couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. In any other case, this would be answer enough, but not now. He needs to hear it. He needs to hear it from her, loud and clear.

"Well," she says after a few moments, still not looking at him, and her voice is acidic, but in the way that means danger, only the way that means that she's too proud to say the words. "You're certainly better than Ozai."

"Better than you?"

Azula glares at him. "Don't push it, Zuzu."

"I'm not pushing it, Azula," Zuko says, his tone hard and unforgiving. "But this isn't a game - it can't be a game. If we're gonna do this, I need to hear it from you loud and clear, and there can be no doubt as to your intentions."

She holds his gaze for a moment, looks him in one eye, then the other. Then she closes her eyes, just a second, and something hushes over her face - resignation. Hurt pride. A single tear runs down her face. When she opens them again, her eyes are glassy, but she tilts her chin up all the same and looks at him with almost a challenge.

(When was the last time he saw her cry?)

(She looks so vulnerable, so hurt, so small, when she cries, and he has to suppress the urge to hug her and tell her that everything will be okay.)

"I am loyal to the Fire Nation," she says, and her voice sounds soft and hard all the same. "And I think you are what is best for the Fire Nation."

He continues to look her in the eyes, to study her face, to look for any signs of deceit.

He finds none.

"And why is that? Wouldn't you be better? I spent the last years in exile, I haven't had anything to do with Fire Nation politics in years."

"Yes," she replies, "maybe. But this war... it needs to end. I don't care what happens to the rest of the world, but the Fire Nation isn't making any progress and it's ruining this nation."

"We could have made progress today. Bring down the Water Tribes, enslave a few waterbenders and crush their hope of rebellion. That would certainly be useful."

She shakes her head. "No, that would only add one more burden onto the Fire Nation. We don't need that."

"So what makes you think I'll end the war?"

She looks at him like she's almost offended. "All this and then you won't end the war? My, my, Zuzu, I didn't think you had it in you."

"Yeah, well, I changed," he says and shrugs, then adds, "But so did you."

"I did," she agrees.

"So this isn't just about your pride about Father not worshipping the ground you walk on?"

She huffs. "No. Otherwise, I'd have killed him long ago. But the Fire Nation needs options. And I believe you are the best one."

"You flatter me."

She smiles at that, a real smile, and Zuko smiles back. He can't remember when the last time was that he smiled at his sister and meant it.

It feels good.

All the hurt, all the pain, all the cruel laughs and cold lies, the fire and the screams and the sheer loneliness - it's not forgotten, it will never be forgotten. But this is his sister before him, his sister, and that means something. They have a lot to talk about, years of childhood trauma to work through. He still can't fully trust her, he still doesn't know what she went through in all these years without him, but he has an idea, and he will wait until she is ready to tell him about it, until she comes to him of her own volition to talk. And he will tell her, in turn, of all the years he spent isolated, of all the times he thought of himself as worthless. And she will listen, and he will listen, and she will understand, and he will understand.

It's a long road and when he looks at her, he sees that she is also not quite there yet - she is scared, she is traumatized, she is confused, because this whole situation is confusing. But she is willing to take a step in the right direction, she is willing to work on their relationship, to shed the cruel girl who laughed at her brother's Agni Kai.

Because, and he realizes that now, that wasn't really her. It was never really her, it was a mask she put on, a mask to ward off Ozai, to survive Ozai.

A mask she is now willing to shed. For him. For them.

She's not doing this out of pride, she is not doing this to see the world kneel before her, she is doing this for the nation. She is doing this for them, and she is doing this for the nation, because if Azula is one thing, then she is loyal.

And he realizes that now and he doesn't know how he could never see it before, but there is so much brewing under the surface that he never even got a glimpse of before.

"So... how does this go now? Do we do the coronation today, or...?" He allows her to see that vulnerability, that sense of confusion. She showed him her weak spots. It's only right that he shows her his.

And Azula - Azula deflates. Like someone poked holes in her to let the air out. She suddenly looks much smaller, and her eyes dart around nervously, as if she's also not sure what to do now.

And he doesn't know how she expected him to react, if she expected him to lash out at her, to burn her, to kill her, to laugh at her. But this is new ground for both of them, and they will have to work on it together, to get to know each other behind the masks, behind the facade.

They will have all the time in the world.

(And if they don't, if Ozai comes back and everything goes to hell, then he at least knows where he and Azula stand. And that means something.)

"Well, I set up documents," she says, "to secure your position. You'll have to sign them. I'm not sure where the Fire Sages are now, though, and it would take a few hours to gather all the nobles; it would be important for them to see the coronation..."

"Foreign dignitaries too," he adds.

She nods. "Yeah, them too. It's probably best to wait a few days until the chaos has calmed down. When you take the throne, all the world will need to see it, and there can be no doubt about the legitimacy of your position. Winning the Agni Kai helped a ton, I imagine. I handpicked all the nobles in attendance, you know. Iroh's old favorites."

He raises an eyebrow. "I won the Agni Kai?"

Azula rolls her eyes. "Well, officially you did. But we both know I would have beaten you."

"Sure."

"Wanna try?"

"Absolutely. But not now," he adds and looks around the room. "I need to find Katara."

Now it's her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Katara? That girl you arrived with?"

He can't help the blush appearing on his cheeks. "Yes, her."

"Ohhh, is there a story there?" She smirks, but in a teasing way, letting him know she means no harm.

And when was the last time Azula smirked at him and didn't mean to cause him harm?

Zuko rolls his eyes and turns, opening the door. Azula follows.

"Yes, there is, but not now."

"Oh, so she's your girlfriend?"

"Azula!"

"What? It's my sisterly duty to tease you about that stuff, you know. At least I think so, I haven't done this much."

"You admit that you don't know everything? Wow, the world really is upside-down today."

"Don't try to distract me. So a Water Tribe girl, huh? Exotic."

"Don't call her that."

"Mai will be disappointed."

Zuko comes to an abrupt stop. "Is she here?"

"Of course," Azula answers, turning to him. "Ty Lee too. I send them to put out their feelers, sense where the loyalties lie. Our plan won't work if the whole court rebels."

"Do you think they will?"

"A few, yes. But they'll be easy to replace and there are a lot of nobles Ozai pissed off these last few years. Shouldn't be too hard. They just need a... gentle hand to guide them."

Zuko chuckles at what her definition of gentle must be and begins walking again, exiting the palace. The sky is still the same color it was before, still the color of death. He sends a quick prayer to Agni that his friends are safe. "And you'll do that how?"

"As Grand Advisor, of course. I won't just sit there and let the rest of the world overrun us, you know."

They ask a servant if he's seen a Water Tribe girl, and the servant answers that he's seen a girl in blue enter the High Temple.

"Of course. So that you'll be able to pull the strings behind the scenes?"

"No, and I thought we already talked about that. Okay, well, yes, but only if you're stupid. Which I hope you won't be because that would be an embarrassment for me."

"I'll try not to disappoint you."

"How sweet of you. I was joking, by the way."

"About what?"

They enter the High Temple, impossibly still on this day. The air feels suffocating.

"About Mai," Azula says. "She got over you long ago."

"That's... good to hear?"

She huffs. "You're not that much of a catch."

"Thanks?"

"Always."

They turn a corner into another deserted hallway. He's not quite sure where all the Fire Sages are; he'd have imagined them to be deep in prayer on such an important day.

Regardless, it's weird to be here again. The last time he was here, he was a waterbender. The last time he was here, he learned of the terrible fate the Fire Nation had in store for the Water Tribes. The last time he was here, he had a panic attack only Katara could snap him out of.

Katara.

He needs to find Katara.

"I was here a few weeks ago, you know."

Azula raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I snuck into the catacombs to see what the Fire Nation's plans were on the day of the comet."

Azula comes to a stop. "Huh, that's... did you, by chance, see any criminals running around freely that night?"

He stops as well. "What?"

"Just answer the question."

"Uhm... yes, I think so? There was certainly a commotion going on, but we got out of here before anyone could see us."

She stares at him for a second. Then laughs. Zuko is only more confused. "What?" he asks again. "What's so funny?"

"Then that was really you," she says and looks at him almost giddy. "I thought I saw something in the shadows."

"What?"

"Relax, I had my own stuff going on. Freed some criminals to get rid of this one annoying minister."

"Damn, Azula. Entering your rebellious phase, are we?"

"Maybe. But it backfired. Massively. Oh well, at least it was kinda fun."

He laughs at that, wants to say something, when he hears it.

It's quiet, so faint it almost isn't there.

But it is.

The faint sound of a voice coming from the end of the hallway, a voice laced with pain and desperation.

Katara.

He looks at Azula, and as if they were one, they move.

Ozai looks just like Aang imagined him, and nothing like it all at once.

In his face he sees Zuko, in his eyes he sees Sozin, but in his expression - in his expression he sees only death.

There is a brief second where they both study each other, the Avatar and the Fire Lord. Once a powerful pair, now sworn enemies.

He wonders what went wrong in the world to shape a man like Ozai. People aren't born evil, they are made that way.

What happened?

What went wrong?

He has no time to contemplate that, however, as Ozai attacks. His fireblast is the biggest of them all, narrowly missing Aang by inches. The heat hurts on his skin, is uncomfortably warm, but he retaliates with his own fireball.

Here is another thing that he hates - firebending during a comet.

It's too powerful. It's too much. No one should ever wield such unimaginable power. That is precisely the reason why he is here.

(He is the one wielding such power, and more. He is - he is -

He is the Avatar.

What is the Avatar?)

He parts fire with none of the ease he acquired by training all these months. The fire then was less hot, less powerful, less big. And it didn't aim to kill.

He sends his own fire whip towards Ozai, but the man simply steps aside like it's nothing. He is wearing a harness fastened to the airship so that he doesn't tumble down. There is rope securing him, non-burnable, but still rope.

Rope that Aang can cut.

He takes a deep breath, feels his lungs expanding with his element and-

Is deterred when fire suddenly surrounds him.

He moves his arms in a roundabout way, directs the fire away from him, commands it to go around him and dissipate. But the motion takes enough time for the other soldiers beside Ozai to send more fireballs, and more, and more and-

He lets the winds carry him to the other side of the airship.

There are still a lot of ships to take down, still ships pressing onward in their mission of death, undeterred by the Avatar amidst them.

Soldiers on the catwalk below one of the airships aim at him but before they have the chance to loosen an inferno on him, he blows them all away, leaves them hanging from their harnesses, and then takes out their ship with a precise whip.

This is almost too easy.

It scares him how easy this is.

He turns his attention to another airship, prepares to do the same to it as he did with all the other ships, but there is fire blocking his vision once again.

He turns, seeing Ozai's ship heading straight for him, it's Fire Lord right at the helm with fury in his eyes and destruction in his veins. He is doing some strange motions Aang has never seen before, surely he isn't-

A firestorm makes its way to him, engulfing him, moving with such speed that Aang barely has time to block, and there is no water or earth here, only air, only fire, but this fire is too powerful, he can't block it, he can't-

He cries out in agony as the fire licks at his neck, his arm. He calls the wind to him to carry him away from the inferno blazing in the sky but when he takes a look at his arm, there is irritated and burnt skin there. His neck feels uncomfortably stiff, no, painfully stiff-

Another fireblast. Another dodge, this time even more narrowly.

The air feels stifling, too hot to breathe. He is panting, he is in pain, he is exhausted, he is-

He is scared.

Of himself. Of the Fire Lord.

For the world. For his friends.

He lets an air current carry him a way's away from the airships to take a few seconds to just breathe.

Okay. He is injured. His strength is slowly waning, slowly but surely. He may be a master airbender and the Avatar but even he can't fly in the sky forever.

He needs to end this.

Now.

An endless icy tundra, gold eyes wide in terror, blue eyes narrow in hate, screams, blood, the feel of her veins constricting, her heart coming to a stop-

Katara's breathing speeds up and she can feel her heart beating against her chest in an uncomfortable rhythm.

"H- Hama. How did you...? Why are you...?" Her voice nearly gives out; she feels like she is about to faint.

Flashes of blue and gold before her mind's eye, of red, so much red, but no, she has to keep it together. She has come so far, she cannot give up now.

Hama crosses her arms in front of her chest, calm and collected as always. But there's something glinting in her eye, something Katara knows, something she is terrified of.

"You did not seriously expect me to sit around in the Earth Kingdom on this pivotal day? Katara, you shame me." She makes a tsk sound while shaking her head.

And the gesture seems harmless enough, but there is a lump in Katara's throat that won't allow her to speak. She feels like her air supply has been cut off, but no, Hama's hands are still.

"I must say, you surprise your old master," Hama continues. "Praying to the god of the enemy? Have the Water Tribes disappointed you that much?"

Katara wants to shake her head, to answer, to deny the implied accusation, but all she can do is stand there and stare. No word will leave her throat, suddenly parched and dry. Her heart still beats against her chest, she can feel it in every cell of her body, and it makes her sick. Nausea wells up within her.

"But then again, I shouldn't be so surprised. After all, inside the palace are the two heirs to the throne, and they are still alive. After youlet them leave."

Zuko.

Zuko isn't far from here. In the presence of his insane and megalomanic sister, but still. She has to protect him, she can't let Hama do any harm to him.

"Azula yielded," she says, finally finding the strength to speak. Her voice wavers but she does her best to keep it steady, keep it strong. For Zuko.

(For herself.)

"That means Zuko won. He is the Fire Lord now. He will end the war; they are talking about the formalities right now."

At least she hopes they are, but she would have heard a fight breaking out between them, right? Fire is a loud element, especially fueled by the comet.

Hama looks at her as if she didn't understand a word, her lips pressed into a thin line, the wrinkles on her old skin pronounced and furrowed. "That makes no difference, Katara."

What?

"How do you... Zuko will end the war. You met him at the Black Cliffs. He's on our side, he-"

Another tsk sound, another head shake. "No firebender will ever end the war."

Now it's Katara's turn to shake her head. "No, Hama. He was banished, he lived in the Earth Kingdom for a few years, he knows the other side of the war, he-"

"It's in their nature, Katara. I had really hoped I taught you better than to believe everything you hear."

And that is just... so presumptuous, Katara wants to laugh. Oh, she knows not to believe everything she hears, she knows it best of all. All that she went through, all the false beliefs she had to shed, all the new things she had to learn, no matter how painful, no matter how cruel, and Hama wants to teach her about lies?

She almost laughs, but only almost. Hama grew up like she did. Hama fought the men of the tribe to let her learn combat waterbending just like she did.

And if Katara learned one thing, then it is not to give up on people.

"You did," she says, her voice softer now, her shoulders more relaxed. She can do this. "You did teach me. And I spent time outside the poles, I was in the colonies, in the Fire Nation. The regular people don't want this war, Hama, believe me. They're just like us. They are harmed in the same way we are, and there are good and bad people in every nation, even the Fire Nation."

Hama shakes her head. "And that is where you are wrong. These people are profiting off of the war, they have no interest in stopping until every culture but theirs is eradicated."

"The nobles maybe, I agree, but the common people-"

"Aren't much better," Hama spits, her voice suddenly loud and furious. Katara flinches and takes an instinctive step back. "I spent months with them, Katara, months, and they are not better, they're the same, and they aren't anything like us. Filled with hate and pride, they declare themselves superior, they treat everyone they perceive beneath them with disgust, they caged us like animals, denying us even the simple comfort of our element!"

"Because to them you were a prisoner of war, this doesn't excuse that but if you live among them as a normal person, then-"

"Do not speak to me as if I don't know what I'm talking about, little girl. You are naive if you think that a few months of playing dress up in Fire Nation costumes will end this war."

Rage surges within Katara. "I didn't play dress up," she says, holding eye contact. "I trained the Avatar. I fought alongside him. I took part in the war meetings deciding our fate. That wasn't playing dress up and I am certainly not naive." Her words come out as an almost hiss, but she doesn't care. She has cowered before Hama all her life. It's time to finally stand up for herself.

Hama crooks an eyebrow, as if she were surprised. Maybe she is. The few arguments they had always ended in Katara backing down.

No more.

"Well," Hama comments. "Haven't you found your calling?"

Katara crosses her arms, steels herself. "And what would that be?"

"Defying your tribe, your master. Don't think I don't know about your little fling with the Fire Prince."

Katara pales at that. So Hama did notice. She wasn't just paranoid. Her first instinct is to deny it. To shake her head, to tell her that she and Zuko are just friends, nothing more.

But no. She has come so far, has learned so much. Zuko has come so far. There is no reason to be ashamed, there is no reason to hide it. The tribe's teachings cannot bind her anymore, she is beyond them.

"That isn't defying my tribe, Hama," she replies, her head held high. "But the tribe isn't always right. You should know that best, shouldn't you?" she adds, cutting Hama off, who is in the process of opening her mouth to respond. "Forbidding girls - you, me - from fighting? When we're the best fighters they had in a long time? Come on. You told me yourself that you wished you could beat every man who looked down on women, that with your help, the war would have made much more progress much sooner."

"Do not confuse my personal grievances with my duty to my tribe, Katara."

"But those aren't personal grievances! They concern half of the South's and the North's population, that isn't personal! And it isn't just that - do you really think eradicating the Fire Nation and half of the Earth Kingdom will work? That this is in any way feasible?"

"I know that it isn't feasible to live in a world dominated by firebenders and traitors, not for our people." And Hama's voice is a cold and hard thing made out of steel.

But Katara doesn't back down. It feels almost ironic to say the words she herself heard so often, the words she refused to accept for months. "But this isn't just about our people. This is about the world, and there can only be balance with all four nations present."

"What should we care about the world, when it turned its back to us and left us to die, huh? What do we owe them?"

And she is losing Hama, she is losing her, and there is nothing she can do about it. In some strange way, it's like talking to a mirror, a distorted mirror with cracked glass and shadows consuming the figure in it.

"We owe it nothing, but that's not the point," she says, desperation evident in her voice. Sweat trickles down her forehead, down the bridge of her nose. "But what good is it to carry on with all this violence? That's a vicious circle, it will never end otherwise, a war ended through violence-"

"- is a war ended, and that's all that matters," Hama interrupts her. "The rest can come later."

Katara scoffs. "You don't believe that, do you? The world belongs to no one, not even to the Water Tribes. We can't destroy the balance, it would bring even more chaos upon us and then everyone would suffer, us included!"

"Do not speak of things you don't understand, girl."

Another scoff. "No, you don't speak of things you don't understand. I was all over the Earth Kingdom, I was all over the Fire Nation and I visited three air temples. I know what balance means, and balance is not the absence of evil, but the presence of both." She has half a mind to tell her about her bending switch, about the time she spent as a firebender, the times she could feel the sun in every fiber of her being. She doesn't, though. Hama doesn't need to know that, it wouldn't change her mind, only endanger Katara. "That means that all four nations have to be present, and that good and bad people exist in every nation."

"Then you are a fool for believing the teachings of people too cowardly to stand up for themselves."

She is glad Aang isn't around to hear that. "No, you are the fool for blindly following your hate. You know how the tribe can be. You know that we conducted raids on the Earth Kingdom. You know how cruel people can be, and yet you still want to spread that hate even further? What good would that do? Be kind when you have the chance to be."

"Kindness will not end this war." There is something dangerous in Hama's voice, something that wasn't there before. Katara suppresses the urge to shudder.

"You're right," she answers, "but it will play its part in keeping another war from breaking out. We are in a vicious circle, don't you realize that? And people will just keep on killing each other if we continue like this. Something has to change!"

Another tsk, and La does she hate that sound. It makes her feel like a child. She is not a child.

"My, my, other teenagers run away from home or marry the disgrace of the village in their rebellious phase. You do both and then take it to another level. I'm impressed, Katara, I really am," Hama says and angles her head.

Katara knows that gesture. Knows it like the back of her hand because she's seen it so often. She feels her muscles tense, her breath even out in preparation. "This isn't a phase."

"You're right," comes the reply. "Other teenagers come home with their heads hung in shame. I fear the only way to come home for you is without one."

And before Katara can digest these words, can realize what they really mean, Hama strikes.

Her muscles seize up immediately, her air supply gets cut off and there is an uncomfortable pressure behind her eyes that builds and builds until it is almost painful. Panic wells up within her, cold terror that grips her in its inescapable claws.

"I had hoped to save you, Katara, I really did," Hama says, her fingers distorted in the way Katara knows so well. "Don't think I'm doing this lightly, or that this isn't hard for me. I liked you, you were my best student. You could have become so much more. It's really a shame to waste such potential."

The pressure on her lungs and her throat abates a bit, allowing her to swallow precious air in desperate gulps. Hama looks at her, one eyebrow raised, and Katara knows she won't just kill her without giving her a chance to say something first.

Hama always liked to toy with her prey.

Her first instinct is to back down, to apologize, to kneel and beg for forgiveness, like she always did back home, like she did her whole life.

But no. She isn't a child anymore, and certainly not a little girl. If she doesn't stand up for herself now, she never will.

"Why... why are you doing this?" Her voice is weak, raspy. Speaking is painful over the pressure in her throat, and she longs to move her fingers, to break Hama's hold on her. "I am not- not against the tribe. I'm not against- against you. We can end this war, we can-" She gulps as the pressure increases again. "We can end this war together."

Hama shakes her head, closes her eyes for a moment. It almost looks like she is sad. But when she opens them again, cold determination replaces the sadness. "No, Katara. There is no saving you. This war won't end like you think it will, it is against firebenders' nature to be good and you cannot defy nature. That firebender has poisoned your mind and that of your brother and the Avatar; it is my duty to free you from his hold."

And with that, Katara feels her muscles seizing up even further. Her throat feels as if someone were strangling her and her eyeballs almost pop out of their sockets. Had she air, she would scream.

"And yes, don't think you're the only one who has learned this little trick," Hama adds and moves her fingers, causing Katara to bend into an even more uncomfortable position. "What master would I be were I to allow my pupil to surpass me?"

She thinks back to a Fire Nation forest. To a marketplace, to a hospital. Thinks back to Shozu, the Fire Nation boy whose life she saved. Thinks back to Yana, the Water Tribe girl whose life she took.

And Katara isn't innocent, she is the opposite of that. But she did everything she did for a reason, because she thought it would benefit her tribe, because she thought it would save lives.

But then again, everyone has their reasons, don't they? Reasons are no excuses, she learned that the hard way.

And perhaps she deserves this. She deserted her tribe, she betrayed her tribe. She defied her teacher, her master. She committed treason, she killed a girl with Water Tribe ancestry.

But she also found forgiveness, she found love, she found peace. Balance. She lived and she learned and she suffered and she loved. She figured out how to heal with fire. She helped sick Fire Nation citizens when she had no reason to. She trained the Avatar to bring peace to the world. She looked death in the eye and didn't back down.

She cannot die here. She doesn't deserve to die here, no matter what Hama says. After all she did, all she learned, after all this way, she cannot be killed on this day by her own teacher, the woman she feared and looked up to her whole life.

She can't allow this to happen, she simply can't.

But she can't move a muscle. Hama's grip is too strong.

What a foolish girl she was, thinking she surpassed her master. She almost laughs.

Yana's hold hadn't been as strong as this. Strong certainly, but Katara had managed to break free, to move her fingers and suck the heat out of Yana's body.

But then had been a full moon. Now there is the comet, weakening waterbenders even further.

Then, she had been a firebender. Now she was a waterbender, and even if she could break out of Hama's hold, even if she managed to move her fingers just a little bit, even then - there is no water here. The air is dry and full of sulfur, the only water available is outside in the canals of the plaza. She could bend Hama's blood, but not without breaking out of her hold, and she certainly can't do that, not with her full attention on her.

Yana had been distracted. Hama is not.

And Katara tries, she really does, but there is nothing she can do. She cannot move a single muscle, she cannot even feel her muscles at all, and there are black spots appearing in her vision and she feels like she is going to black out any moment, like her eyeballs will pop out of their sockets at any second because of this impossible pressure. Her head hurts and her heart threatens to jump out of her chest, beating impossibly fast, faster than a sparrow-keets wings.

And La, she is sorry, she is so sorry that she can't do more, that she is too weak, that she won't pull through. She wants to break out of this hold, if not for herself, then for Zuko, for Sokka, for Aang, for Toph. The world deserves to be in balance, she has to play her part in restoring it, she owes it that much.

But she won't be able to do that now, not with Hama's grip so impossibly strong, not with her vision going almost black, not with the sheer terror seizing her insides.

And there are tears running down her cheeks, cold and hot at the same time, and she is sorry, she is so sorry, but maybe this is how it is supposed to end. She did the best she could, she played her part, she will just have to hope that her friends take over, that they forgive her for being this weak.

After all, don't all good redemption stories end with death?

She thinks of Sokka, thinks of how she feared him not coming back to her. She is the one who will not come back to him, but that's okay, they said what needed to be said, she can go in peace. She told Zuko how she loved him, told him that he would make a good Fire Lord, a Fire Lord capable of leading his nation into an era of peace and kindness. She told Toph how she saw her as a little sister, told Aang how proud she was of him, how far he's come.

She said her piece, there is nothing left unsaid.

She can go in peace.

Ozai's ship is coming straight at him but Aang commands the wind to carry him upwards, over the airship and to the side of another. The soldiers there are already awaiting him, wasting no time in trying to blast him out of the sky with their fire.

He dodges, he dissipates, he blocks, he retaliates and sends it back at them, ignoring the way the screams seem to echo in his ears. He feels sick, he wants to throw up, as if that would absolve him of all the sins he committed today, but he doesn't. Instead, he focuses on the soft underside of the airship, lets the fire burn the fabric away, and quickly pushes himself back as explosions riddle the airship.

He forces the thought of just how many bodies will litter the ocean floor by the end of today out of his mind.

He has work to do.

There is an... unfamiliar sensation at the back of his neck. The hairs there are standing up along with the rest of the fine hairs on his body, and the air suddenly feels oddly charged, and what-

He turns just in time to dodge the lightning strike aimed straight at him.

It's loud. It's louder than he imagined it would be, seemingly amplified by the storm, ringing in his ears and rendering him temporarily deaf. The charge seems to tickle his skin and the blast is so bright that he has to close his eyes and look away.

Well. He wondered when Ozai would bring the big weapons out.

He has just enough time to block a fireball meant to take advantage of his brief distraction and dances away and out of reach.

There are two more airships left in the sky.

Two more, and then it's over.

He ignores the way his body aches, the way his strength is waning. Ignores the way his arm hurts, the way the wind dancing over the skin of his neck aggravates the wound further and makes it burn like a thousand needles are being pushed into his skin. Ignores that they will most likely leave a scar if he doesn't get to a healer soon.

His focus is solely on the airship in front of him and the knowledge that his back is turned to a Fire Lord aiming to kill him.

He starts to take a deep breath in-

Fire.

To his left, to his right, above him, under him. He turns with a surprised yell, sees Ozai narrowing in on him, continuing to blast fire from his fists like it's nothing, like burning teenagers is his past-time hobby, like this is the easiest thing in the world.

There is no way to escape, there is no way to escape, where should he go, he can't go anywhere and the heat is burning his skin, it's burning and burning and he can't use air because then he'll bring the flames even closer to his skin and what should he do, he-

He retaliates with his own fireblast. Not as steady as Ozai's, not as powerful, but still hot, still aimed straight at him, and no matter how much Aang hates it, how his eyes blur from tears, no matter how much his stomach is acting up and his mind is screaming at him that killing is wrong you are a monster-

Ozai dodges. Lets another soldier take the blast to the face for him.

The smell of burned flesh hits Aang's nose then and he almost throws up right then and there.

He uses Ozai's distraction to blast himself away, to get away from the crazy Fire Lord who just smiled at the prospect of burning a teenager to death, who let another soldier die for him.

This is sick.

This is disgusting and wrong, so, so wrong, and Aang is a killer, he is a killer and a hypocrite and there are tears forming in his eyes and his skin hurts and he is panting and out of breath and he is scared, he is scared and alone and he is falling, he has to command the winds to take him up again, he wants to hear Sokka's jokes and Toph's teasing, Zuko's quiet chuckle and Katara's reassurances, he wants his friends back, his life back, he wants them all to be okay but nothing about this situation is okay, why is he even here, he dodged death so many times in he doesn't know how long, how long had he been spending time killing people? And there is another fireblast, and he has to dodge, and he doesn't want to kill but he has to because the world is a dark place, a dark place that isn't fair, not even in the slightest, and he is out of breath again and his strength is running out, he can feel it, oh spirits he will die and then the world will be abandoned again, he can't let that happen but it will happen, he is the Avatar but he has failed to do his job again and the world will remember him as a coward and-

Snap out of it.

Snap. Out. Of. It.

He has a world to save.

He has a world to save and he can't do that if he is over here having panic attacks and pitying himself.

Snap. Out of it.

He pushes his thoughts away, forces himself to empty his mind just like in meditation. He takes a deep breath in, exhales, inhales, exhales. Feels his element in his lungs, feels it all around him, supporting him, guiding him. Feels the remaining strength left in him, assures himself that his friends are fine - they are powerful benders. They are smart. They will be fine. They all have their battles, and he has his. He has to see this through, no matter how terrifying it is.

He can do this.

He already took out most of the fleet, only two airships remain.

He can do this.

Aang gathers his courage and goes on the offensive again.

He tries pushing the airship in front of him into Ozai's, tries to make them crash and explode and tumble down into the ocean depths to never be seen again, but finds that he doesn't have the strength to do that anymore.

Brief panic flares up within him because he can feel himself getting weaker by the second. He has to end this, and he has to end this fast.

He lowers himself under the airship. Fire immediately surrounds him but before it can reach him, he cuts a whip across the underside of the ship. A few soldiers fall down beside him but he forces himself to tune out their screams, to pay them no mind-

A hand drags at his clothes.

A soldier is gripping his tunic, using him to keep from falling down.

For a brief second, the world stands still.

For a brief second, Aang looks into the eyes of a man trying to kill him. There is fear there. There is panic there.

There is unadulterated rage there.

And then the soldier's hand is burning and he is dragging Aang down and the airship is coming down just above them and-

And Aang pushes himself away with a windblast.

The soldier falls, the airship following right after him. Aang's clothes are singed at the edges and the skin on his chest is stinging uncomfortably.

He takes a shuddering breath, holds back the tears trying to form.

There is still another airship left.

He looks up. Ozai's airship is heading toward him, and the man is doing circular motions that tuck at something in Aang's mind-

He dodges the lightning strike aimed at his heart.

He retaliates with a fire whip, then with a fireblast, then with a fireball. Ozai blocks them all, sends twice as much fire back. Aang is forced to dodge more times than he cares to admit, and then there is the fire from the soldiers surrounding their lord, turning the whole side of the airship into a deathtrap.

He tries to gather enough wind to cut through the ropes securing them to the airship but the soldiers aiming at him leave him no time for that, forcing him to concentrate on either blocking or dodging their blasts.

And Ozai is making circular motions again, how many times in a minute can that guy conjure up lightning-

A fireblast to his left. A fireblast to his right.

And he can't-

He can't dodge, if he dodges then he will be burnt to a crisp but if he stays here he will be electrocuted and-

And he stretches out his arm-

And he gets into a stance he had practiced just in case but hoped to never actually need to use but-

And then there is lightning in front of him-

And he - he - he catches it.

He catches the lightning and it courses through his veins and if he makes one wrong move he will die and there is nothing to ground him here, absolutely nothing, and he can feel the power of the cold fire in him, within him, like it is a part of him, a terrifying part, and it's exhilarating, and it's the best and the worst thing he's ever felt all at once, and he's rarely felt this powerful before, there is raw power coursing through his veins and it is burning him from the inside out.

And he - he - he is aware that he could use this to - to -

But then there is another fireblast and he is forced to avert his arm, to shoot the lightning back into the sky.

It leaves him feeling drained, panting and sweating and exhausted, he's rarely felt this exhausted before. There is a headache building behind his eyes, the pressure there is almost unbearable, and his heart is beating in a strange rhythm that doesn't seem very healthy.

Has he damaged something within himself?

But he doesn't have time to ponder that as the Fire Lord aims again at him, this time with regular fire, thank the spirits, and Aang blasts himself onto the other side of the airship, narrowly missing being burnt alive by another soldier's whip.

If he thought his strength was waning before, then it is almost depleted now. He can barely hold himself up on the winds, and he doesn't think that he has the power to conjure up powerful blasts anymore.

No. He has to end this another way.

Screams. The sound of fire blasting.

Hama's hold on her loosens. She gulps in air, brings her hands to her abused throat, coughs. The black spots are leaving, she can see again. She looks up.

Zuko.

Fighting Hama, screaming in anger and hurling impossibly huge fireblasts at her.

And Katara- Katara doesn't wait.

There are tears on her cheeks, and her muscles protest every movement, but she doesn't care, bends her tears into tiny icicles and hurls them at Hama.

Hama hisses audibly and when she looks at Katara, there is no sadness in them, no resignation, no determination. Not anymore. When Katara looks at her, all she sees is hate. Pure, unadulterated hate like she's never seen it before. Directed at her. By a fellow Water Tribe woman.

And it hurts. It really does. Part of her wants to break down and cry, to beg for forgiveness, to stop this whole thing, to just sit down and talk.

But she did sit down and talk with Hama. And it hadn't worked. Had only ended in Katara almost dead.

So when Hama ducks a blue fireblast by Azula and then sends her slamming into the wall, when she takes hold of Zuko and Katara can see the way his muscles seize up, the way her muscles seized up just moments ago, all she sees is red.

Red, red, so much red.

There is something demented in Hama's eyes, in her laugh, in the way her fingers move and bend Zuko into impossible decisions, something Katara has never seen before, something that goes beyond simple madness, goes beyond saving, something that terrifies her to her very core.

She thrusts out her hand, goes into position, and she can feel Hama, can feel her blood, her pumping heart, the way her muscles move. Now she is the puppeteer, and there is red all around her, red, red, red-

But she is too weak to kill her. She tries to. She really tries, but her muscles don't obey her, won't obey her after all the abuse they've taken, her heart pumps too fast for its own good, her lungs feel empty of air and black spots mar her vision again.

And Hama- Hama laughs. And it is the most ugly thing she's ever heard, and there is nothing she can do about it.

Terror swells up within her, all too familiar now, and this is it, this will really be it, in the High

Temple in the Fire Nation capital on the day of Sozin's comet, this is really it, they have come so far but they won't make it, they-

Blue.

Katara doesn't see red.

All she sees is blue, blue, blue.

And then Hama falls.

Azula stands over her, breathing heavily. After a moment, she looks up, sweaty strands of hair on her face.

"Well, this certainly isn't the fight I expected today but I'll take it. Anything more?" She throws her arms up as if she were issuing a challenge, her voice almost giddy. Then, turning to her brother, "My, my, Zuzu, you've been Fire Lord for all of five minutes and already someone tried to kill you. I have my work cut out for me, it seems."

Aang gathers up the last bits of his courage and brings himself in fireblast range again.

He barely dodges the attacks, barely blocks. His arms hurt, his head hurts, everything hurts. The wind on his burnt skin is agony, the motion of turning his head this way and that is absolute misery, but he forces himself on, forces himself to ignore the pain.

It doesn't take long for Ozai to give him what he needs.

There is a crazy gleam in his eye, something Aang's instincts tell him to run away from as fast as possible. Some part of him wonders how such a guy ever managed to bear children or even lead a whole nation. How messed up the world has to be to accept this as its leader.

He finally manages to take out a few of the soldiers beside Ozai, making it easier for him to concentrate on the man himself.

And the Fire Lord - the Fire Lord is making circular motions again.

His fine robes are tattered from the wind, burnt at the edges, and his once glossy hair is wild and untamed, standing on edge due to the electricity in the air.

And there it is again - the smell of sulfur in the air, the feeling of something charged around him, of something powerful, something deadly.

And this time, Aang is prepared.

He reaches out an arm and waits for the lightning to come.

It does.

When he catches it, he has to suppress a grunt of pain. This one feels more powerful than the last one, more charged, more deadly.

He lets it course through his veins, forces himself to breathe evenly. He feels the way it almost, just almost, singes him from the inside out, senses the way it begs him to let it burn him. Through the stomach, out the other arm. He is calm. There is nothing on his mind but this.

It's almost serene.

Another inhale.

(He is the last airbender.)

Another exhale.

(He is the Avatar.)

Aang points.

And then he lets go.

For the second, or perhaps the hundredth time today, the world stands still.

He looks into Ozai's eyes, sees nothing but insanity and bloodlust there. Grey meets gold, gold meets grey.

A brief flash of panic. A brief flash of fear.

And then-

Nothing.

The lightning hits the Fire Lord.

The lightning hits the Fire Lord and he doesn't catch it.

The lightning hits the Fire Lord and he doesn't catch it and the lightning strike courses upwards into the underside of the ship, hitting an airbag and causing it to explode.

The last airship goes down and Ozai goes down with it.

The Avatar is left alone in a blood-red sky.