#katara looking at a report and zuko sets down some tea at her table

[eastofthemoon]

A Paladin in the Fire Nation

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Rating: PG

Series: Voltron Legendary Defender/Avatar the Last Airbender

Summary: After the fight with Zarkon, Shiro accidentally gets tossed into another reality where humans have the ability to bend the elements. His best shot at returning home is with someone called the Avatar, while he waits he might as well take on the job of being the Firelord’s bodyguard.

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The next few hours were a chaotic dance of panic and fussing. It didn’t take long to summon the guards, and Iroh wasn’t far behind them, fretting over both Zuko and Shiro while the intruders were taken into custody. Iroh only seemed to calm down once he learned Zuko was unharmed and that Shiro only had a minor injury.

After that, Shiro was taken to see the royal physician who examined Shiro’s arm, before releasing him to rejoin the group back in the royal quarters. Breakfast had been served, but neither Sokka, Toph, Zuko or Iroh were eating as Shiro entered.

“How’s the arm?” Sokka asked.

“Sore, but at least they didn’t have to cut it off,” Shiro replied as he sat next to him.

Sokka and Zuko raised eyebrows, while Toph snickered.

“...just trying to lighten the mood,” Shiro said.

“Weird way to do it,” Zuko commented.

“Well, I could see the humour in it,” Toph commented.

“Amusing comments aside,” Iroh said as he reached for his cup, “we are glad you are alright.”

“Did you learn anything from the attackers?” Shiro asked.

“They refuse to talk,” Zuko grumbled as he crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, I have a feeling we know who they are.”

“But those other guys were always going after Ozai, right?” Sokka replied. “This is the first time we've seen them go directly after you.”

Shiro frowned. “Others?”

Sokka shut his mouth as Zuko tossed him a glare, but then sighed.

“Fine, you might as well know too,” Zuko replied as he rubbed his neck. “I owe you that much. Those men were-”

“Out of my way,” a young female voice commanded.

“Lady Katara, if you just wait-”

The group turned as a young woman wearing blue clothing appeared in the doorway.

“Katara?!” Sokka cried. “When did you get here?”

“Yeah, we figured you weren’t arriving until later,” Toph commented as she reached for her rice.

“I managed to hitch a ride with one of the farmers, but never mind that,” she said as she looked over the Zuko.

“The guards just told me you were attacked.” She grabbed Zuko’s arm and lifted a sleeve. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Zuko sighed as he took his arm back. “I’m fine,” he replied and pointed to Shiro, “but you should be asking him that.”

The woman looked and blinked as if she just noticed Shiro for the first time.

“Um..hi,” Shiro said as he waved.

“Hi,” the woman replied and looked at Sokka. “Who is this?”

Sokka cleared his throat as he stood, walked behind Shiro and patted his shoulder as he gestured dramatically.  “Shiro, meet my sister Katara.  Katara, meet Shiro, our local spaceman.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “That really doesn’t clear things up.”

“It’s a long story,” Shiro replied as Sokka returned to his seat.

Katara frowned thoughtfully as she took the seat next to Shiro. “Well, you can explain who you are while I heal you. Where are you hurt?”

“It’s just a cut on my arm,” Shiro said, pulling up his sleeve to reveal the bandages. “I’ve honestly had worse.”

Katara didn’t look convinced. “Can you unwrap it?” She patted the container hanging off her hip. “Waterbending can heal something like this without any trouble.”

Shiro blinked. “Waterbending?”

“Katara’s a waterbender, and just let her do it,” Toph commented. “It’s easier than arguing with her, Sparky's attempts aside.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Katara swore as she held up her hands. “It will feel cold and a bit odd, but there’s no pain I swear.”

“Um..alright,” Shiro said, uncertainty in his voice as he held out his arm.

Katara gently removed the bandage and frowned at Shiro’s other scars.

“I’m assuming these are old,” she commented as she pointed.

“Yes,” Shiro replied and didn’t wish to explain further.

“Sorry I can’t do anything about them,” she replied as she set the bandages aside and examined the wound. “I should be able to fix this though.”

Shiro watched as Katara waved a hand, water flowing out of her container and hovering in midair to match her movements. Man, Pidge would love to see this, Shiro thought.

“Now, hold still,” Katara instructed as she moved the water to cover the wound.

Shiro flinched in response, and was surprised to see Katara had been correct. It was cold, and felt very weird, but his wound was aching much less now. In fact, it was hurting less with each passing second.

While she worked, the group filled her in on Shiro’s predicament.

“Another universe?” Katara said as she finished, waving the water back into her container. “That’s rather hard to believe.”

Shiro couldn’t reply. He was too busy examining his arm. It didn’t hurt any more and the cut was completely healed.

“What was in that water?” he asked.

Katara raised an eyebrow. “Nothing, it’s just regular water. I just used it as a catalyst to redirect the energies of your body into the wound.”

“Bending allows you to do that?”

Katara nodded.

“That’s incredible,” Shiro muttered.

Katara frowned and crossed her arms. “While it's nice to be appreciated, I’m starting to believe it.” She glanced at Zuko. “Putting that aside for the moment, what about those attackers?”

“As we were about to tell Shiro, intruders have been trying to get to Ozai,” Toph said as she leaned over the table. “But last night was the first time they went directly after Zuko.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes and thought back how Iroh mentioned having to deal with intruders. “Ozai is Zuko’s father.”

Zuko sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why were they going after Ozai in the first place?” Katara asked. “Were they trying to free him?”

“We don’t know and so far the men we captured aren’t talking,”  Zuko replied as he sipped his tea. “Hopefully their attitude will change when I-”

A knock at the door interrupted Zuko.  Setting down his cup, he rose and faced the door.  "Enter."

A guard promptly came in and gave a quick bow. “My Lord, I regret having to bring you this news,” the guard started and swallowed hard, “but the intruders escaped.”

“WHAT?!” Everyone in the room cried, the guard flinching at the volume.

“How did this happen?” Zuko asked.

“As far as we can tell, someone knocked out the guards on duty and released the intruders,” the guard reported.

“Are you searching the grounds?” Iroh asked as he stood next to Zuko.

“Yes,” the guard replied, lowering his gaze, “but we have a feeling it’s likely too late.”

“Keep searching for now, and come to me immediately as soon as you find anything,” Zuko replied.

“Yes, my Lord,” the guard replied as he took another bow and exited the room.

Toph clicked her tongue. “Well, that’s not good.”

“How could they have gotten out?” Shiro asked.

“Not by themselves,” Zuko grumbled as he sat and rubbed his face. “The guards had searched them for any weapons or lockpicks.”

Sokka stroked his chin in thought.

“It means either there was another intruder we missed that freed them,” Sokka started with a grimace, “or worse-”

“Someone inside the palace was in on it,” Shiro finished.

Sokka sighed as he leaned back. “Yup, exactly.  Schemers in the Fire Palace, who could have guessed.”

“And I don’t suppose we have an idea on who it could have been?” Katara asked.

“Not currently,” Zuko replied as he sat back down with clenched fists. “With all the diplomats and their staff staying here it could be anyone.”

Iroh took a deep breath. “If that is true,” he said and looked at Zuko with hard eyes, “then we have no choice.”

Zuko blinked, frowned and then groaned as he massaged his forehead. “No, Uncle, not this again.”

“Zuko, this is for your own good-”

“I don’t need a personal bodyguard!”

“Uh..what’s this now?” Sokka asked as he raised a hand.

Zuko gave a deep sigh. “Uncle has been pestering me to get a personal bodyguard for the past several months.”

“Like the patient racoon-turtle, I have allowed events to pass by undisturbed - but that was when we believed they were only targeting Ozai.  After last night, however, I can wait no longer.  I must insist that you have protection until these perpetrators have been dealt with,” Iroh replied sternly.

Katara chewed her bottom lip. “I’m going to have to agree with Iroh. We need to consider your safety.”

Shiro couldn't help but nod as well. Zuko had been lucky he had been around to help him. He might not be so lucky next time.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Zuko growled as he crossed his arms. “Besides, there aren't any good choices.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka asked.

"Traditionally, I would select someone from a noble family," Zuko replied. "But given that we suspect the assassins are in league with someone in the palace, it's possible that any of the noble families could already be working with them."

Katara paused, scowled, and folded her arms. “That is a fair point.”

“I could be your bodyguard,” Toph said with a smirk.

Zuko scoffed as he shook his head. “Thank you, but while I would survive I doubt my palace would.”

Sokka scratched his chin. “If Suki was here I would nominate her, but as far as I know she’s still with Aang.”

“Who’s Suki?” Shiro asked.

Sokka gave a smug grin. “She’s just a fully trained Kyoshi warrior who can kick anyone’s butt.”

“And Sokka’s girlfriend, for some reason,” Katara added, “but she would be a good choice if she was here.”

“But she isn’t,” Zuko said as he reached for his cup of tea. “And outside this table, there’s no one else in the palace I could trust.”

Sokka placed his hands behind his head as slowly his gaze shifted towards Shiro. Suddenly, he blinked, leaned forward and pointed.

“Wait a second! Shiro could be Zuko’s bodyguard!”

Shiro blinked at the seeming non sequitur, but was relieved to see the others just as confused.

“What?” Zuko asked.

“It’s perfect,” Sokka continued with a manic grin, jumping up for emphasis. “He literally just got here so we know he doesn’t have connections to anyone and he handled those assassins easily -”

“It was a combined effort!” Zuko shouted.

“You, ah, didn’t notice the arrow,” Shiro added dryly.

Zuko rolled his eyes.

“Point is,” Sokka cut in as he marched around Shiro and placed his hands on his shoulders. “He would be a perfect bodyguard for Zuko.   Helpful, quiet, a good fighter, has a weird space-metal arm...”

Zuko growled. “I don’t need a bodyguard!”

“The attack last night suggests otherwise,” Iroh said sternly. “You need to be protected, Zuko.” He glanced at Shiro. “And I also believe Sokka's suggestion to have merit.”

Zuko’s mouth dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

“Before you answer that,” Katara cut in and crossed her arms, “maybe ask if Shiro actually WANTS to be Zuko’s bodyguard?”

Iroh frowned, but gave a nod.

“My apologies, of course,” Iroh said with a nod and looked back at Shiro. “Would you accept being Zuko’s bodyguard? I can promise you will be well paid for it.”

Shiro was quiet for a moment, and then gave a shrug. “Alright, why not.”

“Are you sure?  Zuko has a knack for getting into trouble.” Katara asked.

“I’m stuck here and have nothing else to do until I’m able to talk to Aang,” Shiro replied and narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I’m not the kind of person that can stand by and do nothing while someone is in danger.”

Iroh smiled. “Thank you, Shiro. We very much appreciate it.”

“What about my opinion here?” Zuko asked with a growl.

“Both Katara and Iroh have joined forces on this, buddy,” Sokka said with a shrug. “You fought it, but I think you've lost this one.”

Zuko glared, but finally sighed in defeat. “Fine. I still think you're all overreacting, but you can pay Shiro to stand around.”

“With that said,” Shiro asked, “you just said that traditionally a bodyguard is selected from a noble family.  I'm not exactly nobility on this world - is that going to cause any issue?”

“Oh, it's sure to offend the majority of the upper class,” Zuko replied as he raised his head, “but that’s nothing new. This'll just go on their list of their issues with me.”

Shiro felt some concern over that, but felt it best to keep it to himself for now.  He could ask the others about impending coups later.

“In any case, while Shiro is guarding Zuko the rest of us should see if we can find any leads,” Toph said as she reached for her cup of tea. "It's been way too long since I got to shake anyone down."

“Well, I can’t do any investigation on an empty stomach,” Sokka declared as he reached for his bowl. “First breakfast then I break out my hat and pipe.”

Katara sighed. “I thought we got rid of those.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

Katara shook her head. “No, no you don’t.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first few days after the attack were relatively quiet.  This honestly didn’t surprise Shiro; whoever had sent the assassins would have to assume that the Fire Lord's entourage would be on high alert. It wouldn’t make any sense to make another attempt immediately.

Few among the palace staff were questioning Shiro’s appointment as Zuko’s new bodyguard. The story was that Shiro had come highly recommended by a close friend and was a fully trained fighter. There had been a few cautious and curious glances as he made his rounds through the palace, but any ill opinions were kept quiet.

The nobles he had encountered were a different matter. None of them protested aloud when Zuko introduced Shiro to them, but Shiro could hear whispers in the background during the meetings where he escorted Zuko, and could feel icy glares as he left the room.

If Zuko had even noticed the nobles' actions, he had ignored them.

“A lot of them are already disgruntled with the changes I made to the court since I took over,” Zuko explained when Shiro asked him about it. “If they're going to hate me for not being my father, there's no point in trying to change their minds.”

The subject still made Shiro uneasy, and he was tempted to wear his paladin armor to be better prepared for the next knives in the dark.   Unfortunately, he was overruled by both Sokka and Zuko.

“Look, buddy, if we’re going to keep the whole ‘I’m from another universe’ thing a secret, kinda easier to do that if you’re not wearing stuff that just screams ‘Look at me! I’m not from this planet’.”

Shiro couldn’t argue against that.

In the meantime,Sokka, Toph and Katara had yet to turn up any useful leads in their investigation. They had questioned all the servants and guards, and had scoured the grounds for any evidence a master earthbender, waterbender, and 'cluebender' might uncover, but so far they hadn't found anything. Whoever the assassins were they had made certain to not leave a trace of themselves behind.

That, or someone in the palace was extremely good at covering for them.  Given the prison escape, more conspirators seemed likely.

Shiro couldn’t help but ponder this as he, Sokka, Katara and Toph went over the list as they waited for Zuko to finish getting dressed.

“All of the servants Toph and I spoke to yesterday couldn’t think of anything out of place,” Katara said with a sigh.

“Are you certain they were all telling the truth,” Shiro asked.

“They seemed to be, judging by their heart rates,” Toph said.

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Their heart rates?”

Toph lifted her foot and pointed to it. “I get around by using my earth bending to sense vibrations, and I'm awesome enough to feel people's heartbeats. If they’re lying, their heart rate tends to go up.”

Shiro frowned as he put it together. “So, you’re a walking lie detector.”

Sokka glanced up from his paper. “ Lie detector?”

“It’s a kind of machine we have that works on the same principle,” Shiro explained as he leaned over the table. “Although, it’s not perfectly accurate.”

“It’s also the same for Toph,” Katara admitted, “but I know that the servants all really like Zuko. I can’t see any of them wanting to hurt him.”

“Really?” Shiro replied, slightly surprised. “I didn’t think he was that sociable.”

“It’s less about him being sociable and more that he isn’t going to threaten to burn them for accidentally spilling water on the floor,” Sokka commented dryly. “You'd think that wouldn't be a high bar to clear, but apparently Zuko was a big relief after the last three Fire Lords - even if banishment was better than what Ozai was doing."

Shiro frowned. “You know the more I hear about this Ozai, the less I like him.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Toph grumbled.

“We still need to talk to some of the military officers,” Sokka replied as he drummed his fingers on the table. “That might get us somewhere since Zuko still hasn’t been able to replace all of the higher ranks yet.”

Shiro froze at the mention of the military. “What about Admiral Jee?”

Katara glanced up and quickly shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t be connected.”

“You’re certain?” Shiro asked.

“He's one of the few qualified replacements.  Zuko selected him specifically because he knows he can trust him,” Sokka explained. “He was the officer in charge of his boat after he got banished.”

“Banished?” Shiro asked.

Sokka, Katara and Toph went quiet as they glanced at each other.

“Right, you wouldn’t know about that,” Toph commented.

I get the feeling there is a LOT I don’t know,  Shiro thought.

Sokka straightened his posture. “Basically, Zuko got kicked out of the Fire Nation for a few years by Ozai and was sent on the quest to find the Avatar.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “He had to find Aang?”

“Yeah, but no one expected him to actually do it, because nobody had seen the Avatar in a century.”

Shiro blinked. “Wait, how old is Aang?”

“16,” Katara replied.

“Then how does a sixteen-year-old go missing for longer than he'd been alive??”

“He got frozen in an iceberg for a hundred years,” Toph added.  "Slept through all the fun stuff."

“Oh,” Shiro said softly and slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Wait, that makes sense? There are times I have a hard time grasping it.”

Shiro shrugged. “My friends Allura and Coran got put to sleep for ten thousand years. This is pretty much business as usual.”

Sokka stared blankly before slowly raising a finger. “I have a few questions-”

“Save them for later,” Zuko said as he entered the room. “I have a meeting to get to and I can’t afford to be late.”

“I’m not sure if I can,” Sokka admitted.

Shiro gave a smirk as he patted Sokka's shoulder. “It’s not that complicated. They just have machines that can freeze them.”

“That raises more questions - I've been frozen in ice when I made Katara mad, how -,” Sokka cried, but Shiro just waved farewell as he followed Zuko.

They walked in silence until they reached the door to the meeting chambers.

“I need to explain something to you,” Zuko said as he turned. “The diplomats from the other nations are in this meeting.”

“Oh,” Shiro said as he narrowed his eyes.

“It’s an update on how the reparations from the war are going,” Zuko explained.

“Okay, good to know,” Shiro said slowly. “But that seems straightforward enough.  What else is going on?”

“I believe Zuko is concerned about the many Fire Nation generals who are also in this meeting,” Iroh explained as he approached. “And their commentary on these issues can grow quite heated,” he cleared his throat a moment before smiling. “No pun intended of course.”

Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “I’m assuming not all the generals agree with how you’ve been making amends for their conquests.”

“I have managed to replace a few of them,” Zuko asserted before sighing, “but the ones that remain from my father's reign hate the idea even more than everything else I do.” He looked at Shiro. “I’m telling you this because they won't hesitate to take advantage of an outsider to our culture.”

Shiro frowned. “So, you’re saying I need to be careful.”

“What you need to do is just sit quietly while we talk,” Zuko explained. “The important facts are that anyone in red is part of the Fire Nation, the man and woman in green are the latest diplomats from the Earth Kingdom, and the man in blue is Aput, an emissary from the Northern Water Tribe.”

“The Water Tribe,” Shiro asked. “So, Sokka and Katara’s home.”

“No, they are from the Southern Water Tribe, who I'd honestly rather be dealing with today. Sokka or Katara can explain that whole history later."  Zuko grumbled under his breath.  "Spirits willing, this meeting won't take too long - but don't hold your breath, and just...try not to draw attention to yourself if you don't have to."

“Understood,” Shiro replied as Zuko turned to open the door and enter the meeting.

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The meeting, in spite of Zuko's pleas to the spirits, went as expected. Far longer than planned, participants shouting over each other, and most of the words being ignored by those who didn't want to hear them.

“In spite of your promises to help rebuild Water Tribe ships, we have yet to receive so much as a stick of the lumber you claim to have sent over two months ago,” Aput stated.

General Ikai sighed. “And as we said at the time, that shipment of wood was sent to where it was needed more - the Southern Water Tribe, not the Northern.”

“So once again we are being forgotten.”

“No one is forgetting you,” Yezow one of the Earth Kingdom diplomats chided.

“In spite of your efforts to be forgotten during the war,” replied Zae, the other Earth Kingdom diplomat as she gave a huff. “We should turn our attention to places that actually suffered over the past hundred years, such as the issues with the Omashu restoration project.”

“King Bumi's most recent letters gave us the impression that the project was completed,” Zuko replied as he resisted the urge to massage his forehead.  Or set something on fire.

“That is King Bumi’s opinion,” Zae replied sharply. “However, the merchants and nobles have a very different opinion on how much of Omashu warrants repair.”

“Oh really,” replied one of the Fire Nation nobles with a snort. “And do these repairs, by chance, include having their homes expanded on the Fire Nation’s coin?”

Zae glared. “Considering it was the Fire Nation that took over Omashu and forced the need to reconstruct any buildings in the first place, I don’t think you have any right to complain.”

Iroh coughed into his hand. "As Omashu is self-governed, I would suggest that we table discussion of its restoration until we petition King Bumi for a new envoy.  Perhaps this time, he might even not send a howling squirrel-monkey!  While we wait, however, might we move on to another topic?"

Yes, please, Zuko thought as he stole a glance back at Shiro.

Just as he had for the last few meetings, Shiro was keeping perfectly quiet and still. If he was feeling bored, none of that emotion showed in his face. Zuko had to admit it was somewhat impressive. It made Zuko wonder what Shiro had done to achieve such a skill.

“Yes, I concur,” Yezow said as he cleared his throat, which to Zuko wasn’t a good sign. “There is a matter I would like to introduce at this time.”

“And what is that?” Zuko asked.

The man’s face turned grim. “The nations of the world are concerned about your predecessor, the former Fire Lord Ozai, and wish to insist that he be fully punished for his part in the war.”

Zuko’s body tensed. He would rather go back to arguing about Omashu. Or arguing with one of Omashu's 'envoys'. “We have already discussed this with your predecessor, Ambassador Yezow.”

“Discussed, but were unable to reach a final agreement,” Aput added.

“He has been sentenced to remain in a prison cell for the rest of his life,” Iroh added. “And what he considered his greatest strength, his fire bending, has been taken away by the Avatar.  This was pronounced by the Avatar himself as a just punishment.”

Zae narrowed her eyes. “Is it, though? Many of the Earth Kingdom’s sons and daughters have been lost to this war and shall never return home. Farmsteads and villages have been burned to the ground on his orders - but Ozai has a secure roof over his head and receives daily meals.”

“You make it sound like he’s living a life of luxury,” Zuko retorted.  "The roof is there to keep him from climbing out, not for his comfort."

Yezow coughed. “I believe Zae is concerned that Ozai’s cell might not be a true prison given the rumors as of late.”

Zuko closed his eyes, trying not to let out a sigh as he asked the obvious question. “Which rumours?”

“The matter of Princess Azula,” Aput said coldly. “She was loyal to your father, and was credited with single-handedly conquering Ba Sing Se." He paused a moment to clear his throat.  "Despite this...record, I have heard it said that she was relocated to a private estate with her own servant. That hardly sounds like a punishment to me - do you, in fact, approve of your sister's actions during the war?”

Zuko clenched his hands into fists, taking a slow deep breath and focusing his strength on not leaving scorch marks on the table.  This was technically an international summit; setting things on fire and shouting a lot was not the method of diplomacy he wished to resume using. Zuko had worked to keep the full story of Azula’s breakdown quiet and he was not going to waste that effort.  Even though he could feel Iroh's gaze on him, he focused his iciest glare on the diplomats.

“At the end of the war my sister was not well and required special treatment, and that is all I will say regarding the matter,” Zuko said sternly. “However, this leniency was due to a number of mitigating circumstances beyond the scope of this discussion. I can promise you that our father has not received the same consideration, and is now facing the consequences of his crimes.”

“Can we truly take your word, my lord?”

Zuko paused and slowly turned to face the speaker of the comment. This interruption had not been any of the diplomats, but rather one of the Fire Nations' own generals - one of the older, well-decorated ones..

“What do you mean, General Bujing?” Zuko said with his voice full of venom.

The old general barely looked at Zuko as he ran a hand through his beard.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” he said with a sly smile, “but can we fully trust your word given your own judgment as of late?”

Zuko narrowed his eyes. “You would bring my judgement into this?”

Bujing had been one of the most vocal protests against the changes Zuko had made since he took the throne. However, he had been canny enough to speak up only around other Fire Nation generals. This was the first time he had spoken on these matters in front of foreign diplomats.

Bujing gave a smirk and gestured behind Zuko. “Your judgment is made clear by your current choice of bodyguard. You went against our tradition of hiring someone of the court and instead chose this peasant..what’s his name? Riro? To fill a high position on the court.”

“It’s Shiro,” Zuko said as he resisted the urge to turn and look at Shiro's expression. Hopefully the otherworlder was able to keep calm. “And what of it? This is hardly the first tradition I have broken since my coronation.”

“Perhaps not,” Bujing sneered. “But from what I hear this man is not even a bender. How could you expect such a commoner to defend anyone when he can’t even bend? I could strike him down with a flick of my wrist.”

The generals muttered amongst themselves. Aput looked uncertain as Yezow stroked his beard in thought and Zae’s frown tightened.

Zuko clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he readied his words, but someone beat him to it.

“Could you, now?  Do you want to prove it?”

Zuko shut his mouth as he turned his head to Shiro. He hoped he had just misheard, but Shiro’s determined eyes showed that was far from the truth.

Bujing locked his gaze upon Shiro, seemingly surprised he had even responded. “What did you just say?”

“Do you want to prove it?” Shiro stated as clearly as a bell. “You seem confident that you could simply 'strike me down'.  Why not prove it here and now?”

Zuko swallowed hard as he looked back to Bujing.

The old general narrowed his eyes. “This meeting is hardly the place for a proper fight,” he sneered, “unless of course you mean to challenge me to an Agni Kai?”

Zuko’s eyes widened in panic. Oh no! No! No! He can’t be stupid enough to take the bait!

Shiro frowned thoughtfully. “I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with all aspects of Fire Nation culture.  Would you mind explaining what that is?”

Bujing looked amused. “It  is an honorable tradition and is a duel-”

“Between fire benders,” Zuko sharply cut in and raised his voice, “which Shiro, as you've said, is not.  This suggestion is pointless.”

“Is it,” Bujing replied, “or does it only further my point that a non-bender bodyguard is useless?” He smirked as he stroked his beard. “Besides, I believe that history shows that there has been precedent for an Agni Kai between a bender and a non-bender.”

“There is,” Iroh said slowly, “but traditionally the non-bender would invoke their right to a substitute.” He shot a glare at Bujing. “A right that has been invoked by benders, including the challenger on occasion.”

Bujing's smirk did not fade.

“This is true, but I will not be needing such a thing this time,”’ Bujing said as he raised a hand. “And as a student of history, you would of course recall duels between a fire bender and a non-bender - given the Fire Lord's approval, of course.” He grinned at Zuko. “If your new bodyguard is as capable as you claim, my lord, it would only be reasonable to approve of him showing his skills.”

The other generals and diplomats muttered amongst themselves.

Zuko fumed. It would be Bujing who pulled this. The man still resented him for returning his 'conquests' to the Earth Kingdom, and was eager to claim any chance to humiliate him. The only reason he hadn't had a forced 'retirement' was his popularity among Fire Nation nobility - specifically those most loyal to his father.  The man had cultivated a reputation, and taking direct action would spark dangerous degrees of outrage.

If he refused to approve the duel it would make Zuko's decision look weak, but if he accepted the challenge then Shiro would be put in danger. Zuko glanced at Iroh for aid, but he could tell his uncle looked as trapped as he did.

However, Shiro seemed to have decided for them as he rose and stepped towards the general.

“I need no substitute,” Shiro said, “I will gladly take you on myself.”

Shiro, I am going to strangle you later, Zuko cried out in his head.

Bujing laughed. “Well then, all that is needed is our lord’s permission.”

Zuko sighed. There really was no escaping this, was there?

“Fine,” Zuko said, shooting Shiro a glare before staring ahead. “I approve of this irregular Agni Kai.”

“Then there is no time to waste,” Bujing declared as he rose to his feet. “We shall fight at noon, at the sun's peak.” He grinned. “If you need assistance finding the arena, I believe Pr- Fire Lord Zuko knows the way.”

Zuko's nostrils flared as he clenched his fists tighter.

Iroh quickly stood. “I believe that is enough of diplomacy for today - one duel declared is far from a record, but we need not emulate the pronged goat-beetle today,” he said and gave a quick bow to the other emissaries.

Zuko wasted no time doing the same and only barely remembered not to literally drag Shiro out of the room.

Once they were safely away from the group, Zuko whipped around.

“What did I say about keeping quiet?!” he snapped.

Shiro held up his hands. “I know, but it was clear that he was trying to pick a fight.”

“Bujing tries to pick a fight over what kind of tea I drink,” Zuko snapped. “You have no idea what you just agreed to!”

“I have to fight a fire bender and I’m at a severe disadvantage since I can’t bend,” Shiro replied. “That much is obvious.  But denying his challenge was just going to lead to more problems - you would be back to trying to pick a bodyguard from the nobles you can't trust.”

“That is my problem to worry about not-”

“Enough,” Iroh shouted as he got in between them. “The decision made in haste is made all the same, and your quarrel does little but waste the morning.” He lowered his arms and tucked them into his sleeves. “Whether this was the right action is for later. Right now, we have only an hour or two to introduce Shiro to enough basics of fire bending to grant him a chance.”

Zuko scowled and sighed. “Alright, Uncle. Go find the others and tell them what happened. I’ll take Shiro and see how much we can cram into an hour.”

Iroh nodded as he quickly walked down the hall.

Zuko turned to Shiro. “Let’s go and hope we have some luck on our side.  At least you're probably not going to be as distractible as an airbender.”

“For what it’s worth,” Shiro said as he rubbed his metal arm, “I’ve been in more dangerous fights than facing a fire bender.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Zuko said.

Shiro gave a bitter smile. “I hope it stays that way.”

The way Shiro had phrased that sent uneasy chills down Zuko's spine.

#vldgen #atla #vld #takashi shirogane #a paladin in the fire nation #my wriitng

[thisbluewind]

fall between the cracks

Pairing: Azula & Katara, background Zutara

Wordcount: 1998

Summary: Azula has a nightmare, and calls Katara. Modern AU

Other notes: so, I wrote this for a gift exchange for a server i’m in, but my giftee asked not to be tagged if i posted it outside the server, so here it is!

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480725

Azula shot upright, eyes wide and gasping for air. It was just a dream; you don’t need to get so upset over it, she berated herself, trying to steady her racing pulse. She could still see it in her mind, her father standing in front of her, the hateful lies he’d insisted were true echoing in her head.

You should have been better. You failed. You didn’t do your duty. And the worst of them all: You're just as bad as Zuko. For all her life, ‘Zuko’ had been Ozai’s synonym for disappointment, worthless, weak, and everything else she wasn’t supposed to be. She knew that her brother was none of those things, but the opinions she’d had drilled into her head for her entire childhood wouldn’t let go. You weren’t good enough. It hadn’t been her fault. If you had been better, this wouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t her fault. You could have stopped this. It couldn’t have been her fault-

She dove for her phone, and dialed the first number that came to mind.

“Azula?” Katara’s tired voice filled her ears. “It’s three in the morning.”

“I apologize for waking you. I wasn’t thinking.” Her voice sounded small and empty. Exactly the way she felt. “I will call back in the morning.” She moved to hang up, but Katara spoke first.

“Wait. What’s wrong?” the other girl asked.

“I… I had a nightmare.” It sounded foolish once she said it out loud, and Azula opened her mouth to take the words back, to lie and convince Katara it was nothing. But once again, her friend answered before she could.

“About your father?”

“Yes,” Azula admitted. “I understand it’s ridiculous to still be thinking about something that happened in college now, but-”

“I’ll be right over,” Katara promised, and the line went dead in Azula’s hand. She stared at it uncomprehendingly. Katara cares about you, she reminded herself. She cares.

In what seemed like forever and no time at all, a quiet knock sounded at her apartment door. Azula swung her legs over the edge of her bed, and stood up quickly- too quickly, it seemed, as the motion set her head spinning. She waited for the dizziness to pass, and walked to the front door. When she opened it, Katara gave her a quick hug. Azula stepped back awkwardly, wordlessly inviting her friend to come in.

Seeing her uncertainty, Katara took her arm, and led her to the kitchen. Once they were there, Azula moved with stiff and practiced efficiency, selecting ingredients and placing them on the countertop. In barely two minutes, there were two warm cups of tea on the table. Jasmine, Uncle and Zuko’s favorite.

Once they were both settled, and sipping at their tea, Katara looked at Azula expectantly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, obviously concerned.

“High school,” Azula said, bitterly. “Was a series of unrealistic and harmful expectations piled on top of me, one after another, with consequences when those impossibilities were not met. College was the result of those three years of buildup exploding in my father’s face, and by extension, mine.”

Katara nodded, clearly struggling to keep any signs of pity off her face.

“I was the envy of the entire school. Popular, intelligent, powerful. And then Iroh helped Zuko come forward about what had happened and when the news broke-” Azula snapped her fingers “-nobody wanted anything to do with the true failure, me. Just like that. Even Ty Lee and Mai abandoned me. I went from the most liked to most hated, in a matter of hours.” She grimaced. “I didn’t come to school for two weeks, but I heard the rumors. She was in on it, he hired someone to fake her success, and all the rest. I never stopped hearing it, not for the rest of my life. Every interview, I’m asked what my role was in what happened to Zuko. If I attempt to befriend someone, they inevitably demand to know what really happened. And if I don’t give the answer they want...” She stared at her feet. “I keep wondering if it’s worth trying again.”

“I didn’t know that it still affected your career.” Katara looked down at her feet. “If you want, I can pull some strings, get you a comfortable position in my company-”

“Thank you, but no.” Azula stopped her. “If I succeed, I have to do it on my own. Otherwise, I’ll just be proving what they all said about me. That my successes will always come from other people’s generosity. Not to mention what it would do to your reputation.”

“Alright,” Katara nodded, knowing exactly what Azula meant. After all, she had gone through the same thing rising to the top of her company, despite Pakku and the others on the Board of Executives doing their best to stop her. “But you need to know that having help doesn’t diminish your accomplishments. There is nothing wrong with needing help sometimes.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about more than jobs?”

Katara shifted in her seat. “I know you didn’t want to when Zuko first brought it up, but I was wondering if you were still so against going to therapy.” Azula flinched from the word, bringing her hands together to rest in her lap. She straightened her posture, feeling like she had to hide all signs of the emotional turmoil inside her.

“My answer remains the same as it did then.” Azula spoke slowly, her words measured and careful.

“Are you sure? I know it helped your brother,” Katara pressed. “Or if you’re uncomfortable with that, maybe you could try talking to Zuko instead-”

“What happened to Zuko and what happened to me are completely different things,” Azula snapped. “We may have both been hurt by our fathe- Ozai, but our experiences were fundamentally different on every other level. He was the hero, Katara. I was just something for my father to brag about. Zuko faded into slightly positive-tinged obscurity after he exposed Phoenix Industries, and I have been vilified by mainstream news reports and my past defines everything I do. He had help and support from Iroh, and I was left to fall through the cracks. Do not insinuate that we went through the same thing in the end.” Katara seemed surprised by the ruthlessness and efficiency with which Azula delivered her argument. And why shouldn’t she be? I’m sure Zuko doesn’t dwell on this as much as I do. But still, Katara had clearly been hurt by her harsh words. “I-I’m sorry.”

“I get it. You’re not thinking straight right now.”

“You’re right, I’m not.” Azula stared down at her hands, screaming at herself internally for testing Katara’s patience at- she checked her watch- three-thirty in the morning. She was a fool for bringing Katara into this, a fool for telling her everything, and a fool for never being strong enough to handle anything on her own. Pathetic. Weak. Worthless.  

Blinking back tears, she avoided Katara’s gaze. “I apologize for inconveniencing you. I will most likely be fine in the morning.” Most likely, you’ll be calling in sick to work and sobbing in bed for two hours in the morning. Bad enough that you’re lying again, you don’t even sound convincing.

“Azula, look me in the eyes and tell me that again.”  

She forced herself to maintain eye contact, and forced her voice to remain steady as she spoke. “I will be fine in the morning.” Liar. Liar. Liar. That’s all you do, isn’t it? All you can even do anymore.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Katara slammed her cup down on the table with surprising force. “Do you have any idea how unconvincing you sound?”

“I’m fin-”

“No! Don’t say you’re fine. You’re not fine, and anyone with a single brain cell can see that!” Katara waved her hands as if hitting the air would make Azula listen to her. “I’m completely sick of watching you run yourself into the ground again and again! You take extra shifts at both your jobs and stay up late trying to find a job where you can use what you learned at that fancy law school, and then you burn yourself out trying to be everything you’re supposed to be, while still holding fast to your nothing-to-do-with-Ozai policy! You take a day off to recover, and start the whole cycle again the next day! I hate watching you do this to yourself!” Katara continued her diatribe, but it blurred together in Azula’s ears. Burned out. That sounded about right. But what was the other part? Could it be that Katara couldn’t stand Azula’s method of being a functioning adult? Or perhaps that Katara felt responsible for her, as Azula’s closest (and only) friend? It didn’t seem that way, from the passionate tirade alone.

“Why are you doing this?”

Katara blinked, interrupted mid-rant. “You mean why am I trying to make you take care of yourself?”

“Yes. Why are you trying to make me take care of myself, and offering me assistance in life? The system I currently have is working fine, and doesn’t affect you in any way. I can’t make sense of it. The only possible explanation that I can think of is that Zuko or Ursa put you up to it.”

“Didn’t you say your mother wanted nothing to do with you?”

“You’re avoiding the question. Why?” Azula barely managed to disguise her wince at the mention of her mother. It was her own fault, she supposed, for bringing Ursa into it.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Katara blinked. “You’re my friend, and I want what’s best for you. What, did you think I hated you?”

“Well, at first, yes,” Azula confessed, shocked. “I assumed you were spending time around me for Zuko’s sake, and mistook your… forceful personality for hatred of me.”

Katara shook her head and started to laugh. “I’ve gotta say, between dating Zuko and having Sokka for a brother, I’ve heard a lot of things like that, but what you just said takes the cake.”

“Hmph.” Azula tried to frown, but wound up smiling instead

“It’s true,” Katara teased lightheartedly. “I don’t know how you got it into your head that my way of showing complete and utter contempt was showing up at your door with cupcakes on your birthday, or inviting you over for dinner, or coming to your house at three in the morning because you had a nightmare.” She grinned. “Of course, they could have been poisoned cupcakes.”

Azula laughed. “Oh yes, they were definitely poisoned, that’s why they probably had more sugar in them then most desserts.”

“Toph gave me the recipe, you know she has a sweet tooth.”

“Have Mai and Ty Lee finally realized that their pining isn’t one-sided yet?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” Katara gave a half-smile. “It seemed like they never would, but it finally happened.”

“I’m happy for them.” Azula smiled. “It’s unlikely that either of them will ever want to speak to me again, but I wish them the best.”

They both lapsed into comfortable silence, sipping their tea and relaxing in each others’ company. After a while, Katara had to leave, as she had work the next day.

“Be brave, okay?” She hugged Azula.

“I’ll try.” Azula hugged back.

The next morning, when her alarm went off, Azula rolled out of bed and stared at the next law firm in her notebook. She pulled up the website on her phone, and was immediately drawn to the sentence in the description that they specialized in dealing with corrupt employers and large megacorporations. In a perfect world, where she wasn’t Ozai’s daughter, it would have been an excellent fit for her. Azula typed the number into her phone, and hovered her finger over the call button. Would they turn her away upon finding out who she was? Be brave, Azula. Katara’s voice echoed in her head.

Azula made the call.

#platonic azutara #zutara #azula #katara #avatar the last airbender fic #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla fic #misty writes

[zutaradreams]

Day 4: Don’t hurt her

Part 1     AO3

Posting a day early because I might not have time to post tomorrow, continued from Day 3: Season 4 Zutara

Katara and Zuko look into Azula’s past

On the fifth day, Katara went back to Sazura. She applied more of the burn salve and rewrapped the wound. Katara did some of her own healing too. Already it looked so much better, and she was able to move her wrist without pain. 

“Did you treat the Fire Lord after he was burned?” she asked. She couldn’t get Zuko’s scar out of her mind now that she knew his father had caused it.  

“No, my lady. He was banished immediately. I wasn’t allowed to see him,” the older woman replied regretfully. 

“Oh.” It all made sense to her suddenly, why his wound scarred so terribly when hers was healing well. Even without her own healing abilities, Sazura had some of the best remedies in the world. “What about Princess Azula?” 

“Why do you ask?” 

“I’m just trying to understand.” 

The older woman finished wrapping Katara’s wrist. “I am the Royal Family’s physician. I serve the Royal Family. At the head of the Royal Family is the Fire Lord. I served Fire Lord Azulon, Fire Lord Ozai, and now I serve Fire Lord Zuko. I answer to them, and I keep the secrets they tell me to keep.” 

While it wasn’t a direct answer to the question Katara asked, it did help her understand something. It helped her understand that if she wanted answers, she couldn’t tiptoe around Zuko. He needed to be as involved in this as she was. 

“You want me to order our physician to disclose Azula’s complete medical history?” 

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I just have a hunch.” 

“What kind of hunch?” 

“I don’t think you’re the only one your father hurt,” she admitted. 

Zuko stopped eating their dinner. “My father would never hurt Azula. Azula was his prodigy. He was proud of her. He didn’t resent her the way he resented me.” 

“Knowing your father, it’s worth investigating.” 

“Do you think my mother would stand by and let him abuse one of her children? He didn’t even do this--” he pointed to his face “until after she was gone. What do you hope to gain from looking into this?”

“We need to know what she’s fighting inside of herself. We need to understand what she’s been through before we can even think about rehabilitating her.” She added, “If you don’t think anything will come of it, what’s the harm?”

“Fine. I’ll have the physician write me a report.” 

“Thank you.”

“How’s your wrist?”

“A lot better.” 

He reached across the table where her hand rested in a fist and gently flexed one of her fingers out. “Does this hurt?”

“No. It doesn’t hurt when I move it anymore.”

He flexed another finger. “How about this one?”

“Nope.” 

By the third, she realized he was playing with her when she saw the faintest hint of a smile. “Still no,” she replied knowingly, and despite everything weighing on their minds, she smiled back. 

Zuko showed up at her bedroom door two nights later with a stack of papers in his hand, knocking furiously at her door. She threw a robe over her nightclothes and opened the door. 

“Zuko, what’s wrong?”

“You were right,” he said heavily, shoving the papers towards her. Before she could read them, she invited him to sit at the tea table in her guest room, an offer he refused. The last time she saw him so angry, they were on opposite sides of the war. 

“Can you light the lamps? I can’t read this.”

He obeyed, and continued pacing while she read the physician’s report. It was a detailed record, beginning with the princess’s birth. She was sick as a baby with an illness that made it difficult to breathe; the physician treated her with eucalyptus oil. At eleven months, when Azula was learning to walk, she stumbled and hit her head; the physician bandaged the wound. All of Azula’s treatments were relatively normal until the princess was four years old, and she began her firebending training. 

Burns to the legs, shoulders, back. For every burn, she was brought to the physician by Prince Ozai, who insisted they were from her firebending lessons. Each time the physician healed them with the most expensive burn salves available to the nation so that the wounds would not scar. Each time Prince Ozai oversaw the treatment. 

“He was hurting her,” Katara whispered. 

“She never said anything. All that time, I never knew...and my mother…” He angrily pulled his hands through his hair. “She always spent so much time on me to try to balance out how much Father favored Azula. Now I find out it was Azula who needed that protection the most!”

Katara folded the papers and placed them on the table, rushing to Zuko. She wrapped her arms around his waist. The action calmed him slightly. 

“Do you know how many times I was burned in firebending practice? Never. We had the best instructors, and none of them would dare burn anyone in the Royal Family. It couldn’t have been one of her teachers. It was him. He was always hurting her.” 

“You couldn’t have known,” she assured him, gazing up at his face as she said it. She wanted him to look at her and see her sincerity himself. But he didn’t look at her. He looked straight ahead at some wall while his arms tightened around her.

“I should have. I should have realized the second he burned my face that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to us to get what he wanted.”

“I’m so sorry, Zuko.”

“I am too.” 

He went with her to see Azula the next day. The guards locked them in the cell as always. “Zuzu,” she said. Then Azula’s eyes flitted to her. “Katara.” 

“Hi, Azula,” Katara replied steadily and set to work combing Azula’s hair. Inside, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. It was the first time Azula ever recognized her. 

“I know what our father did to you,” Zuko said softly, without preamble. He reached his arms out to her, maybe to hold her, but Azula shrank back from him. 

“Where is he?” she shrieked. 

Zuko pulled Katara away from his angry sister and positioned himself as a barrier between the two of them, just like he did at the agni kai. “He’s gone. He’s locked away deep underground, and he’ll never see daylight again.” His breath caught. “I always thought you were just like him. But you’re not. You’re just like me.” 

“I’m not like you!” Azula shouted in protest.  “He loves me. Everything he did was because he wanted to teach me. He wanted me to succeed. He loves me. He loves me.”

“No, he doesn’t!”

“Yes, he does!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “He loves me.” 

“When he burned you all those times when we were kids, did it hurt?”

Azula flinched but otherwise gave no indication she had heard him.

“Mine hurt,” Zuko added.

“It smells bad,” she said airily, sounding less coherent. 

“What?” 

“It smells bad. I hate the smell of burning flesh.”

Katara remembered how her own wrist had smelled as the skin melted. It was something the three of them in this cell had in common, she realized darkly. 

“I never burned you,” Zuko reminded her. “I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” she argued back tearfully. “You never did! Mother never did! Uncle never did! Not Grandfather, not Lu Ten, not even Mai and Ty Lee. Only Father.”   

“Father’s defeated,” he said again, taking a step closer. “And he will never hurt you again. Do you hear me? I won’t let him hurt you. And I won’t let you hurt her.” He pointed to Katara, and then with the same outstretched hand, reached for the wrist Azula had burned.

“You hurt her when she’s done nothing but try to help you.”

“I was just playing.” She laughed to punctuate her point, and it sent a chill through Katara.

“Don’t hurt her again.” 

Azula broke down in tears again as Zuko scolded her. It made Katara want to tell Zuko it was alright. Her wrist was completely healed by now, thanks to her work and the physician’s. As she looked at Zuko and Azula--the children of a warmonger, one wearing a crown, the other sobbing against the concrete of her prison cell--she wished all wounds healed so quickly. 

#zutara month #zutara #zutaradreams #zutarafic #zutaramonth

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wan High Weeping (Part 45)

Zuko handed his chip to Iroh, the old man smiled warmly. “One month, Zuko. You should be proud of yourself.” He handed the chip back. “Jasmine or ginger?”

“Whatever you think would taste the best.” Zuko replied, knowing very well that the man would brew up every type of tea if he had the chance. Especially since he was brewing it in celebration of him having been newly cleared for outpatient.  He watched Iroh bring down his special tea set and his higher end herbal mixes. “You don’t have to do that uncle. I’ve only been a month clean.”

“A month clean is more to celebrate than a year clean.”

Zuko furrowed his brows.

“It gets easier and easier over time. I’ve always thought that it was the first few months that counted the most. Those are the months where you have to truly fight and restrain yourself.” He set the cups out on the table. “So let’s celebrate the strength in that.”

Zuko picked up one of the cups. They had a red class make with a filigree trim of gold that resembled the powerful scales of a dragon. Genuine gold, according to his uncle. That genuine gold trim was inlaid with genuine ruby, table cut. He was almost afraid to pick it up, let he shatter it. He was almost certain that the glasses were the most expensive things his uncle owned, next to the matching teapot; a thing that depicted an dragon unfurling its shimmery wings and puffing out a breath of metallic fire.

It would be at least an hour before the tea would be served. Only Iroh could draw it out that meticulously. But that had to be the reason why his tea was particularly wonderful, with the ability to make him feel wholly cleansed by the last sip. Some months ago he would have been rushing the man, telling him to hurry it up as it was just tea and he had things to attend. Today he was glad for the length of preparation. “Uncle, I have something to talk to you about.”

“Anything.” Iroh replied.

“I love it here, you know I do.” He paused. “And I know I just got back…”

Iroh moved his tea kettle to the stove. “Yes?”

“But I ran into Azula and she said that she was living with mother.”

Iroh smiled. “And you want to go stay with her for a while.”

Zuko nodded. Though he was worried at the prospect of staying with Azula again. “How far away does she live?”

“Not very far at all.”Iroh replied. “You could walk there, if you really wanted to.” He turned away from the kettle. “Would you like to bring some tea to your mother and sister?”

It sounded like a plan to him.

.oOo.

“Teo, this is my mother.” Azula introduced.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Kasai!” He greeted.

“Ursa is fine, dear.” She smiled. “How did you meet my daughter?”

“Well, there was this one time--I think it was last year--when she threatened to push me out of my wheelchair. You know, typical love at first sight things.”

Azula resisted the urge to slap her hand against her forehead. “Keep sharing stories like that and I will push you out of your wheelchair.” She mumbled.

Ursa sighed. “Well I’m glad that the two of you have moved passed that.”  Azula supposed that she appreciated her mother’s efforts to not accuse her of being difficult to care for. “She has been treating you well lately?”

Teo curled his hand around hers. “Yeah, she’s been great.”

Ursa moved into the pantry and pulled out some homemade pastries. She offered them to Teo. “Thank you for being there for her when I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“If you want to give some to your father for raising such a gentlemen, I’d appreciate it.”

Azula couldn’t tell whose face was more flushed, her’s or Teo’s.

“I can do that.” He took the tin.

Ursa turned to Azula. “I have some for Katara and her family as well.”

“I’ll try to remember.” Azula replied. She ought to remember, it would likely do Katara well to have some kind of a treat the monday after her trial. Based upon the silent treatment she was given by both TyLee and Katara, she was willing to bet that it was in full swing.

“Alright, well I have a sequel to work on. If you two need anything, give me a call. And let me know if you plan on going anywhere.”

Azula fights back a frown, Ozai had never made her report where she was going. “I was just planning on going around the block.” Between practice and therapy sessions, she hadn’t exactly gotten to explore the neighborhood. That was her plan for the day, the venture would be more pleasant with some company.

As soon as she stepped outside, she regretted it. She didn’t realize that the forecast had called for snow. She drew her hood over her head. It was a light fluffy sort of snowfall, the kind that clung to her lashes and the wool of her gloves, but only for a second before they melted away. The ground already had a light dusting of the stuff; it glittered trees and set the windshields of cars shimmering.

“Your mom is a nice lady.”

“She’s trying.” Azula replied. Though trying was an understatement. The woman was doing everything in her power to make Azula feel at home. It was almost suffocating, especially when put up against the lack of affection Ozai had shown her. Yet it was as comforting as it was overbearing. She no longer outright dreaded breakfast. She wasn’t comfortable, by any means, but she wasn’t going to great lengths to avoid it either.

It also didn’t horrify her to bring back a lackluster report card. Ursa insisted that her collection of B’s was perfectly acceptable. Azula disagreed vehemently, agitated that she had let them slip that far. Granted Xi River was in the process of discussing accommodations in light of her transfer, her abuse, and her suicide attempt. Even so, she didn’t want a pity grade.

It was a hassle to do so, but she left those thoughts on the back burner for the time; she had promised Teo a real date. In her mind, she flipped subjects to something lighter--her teammates were as awful on the court as they had claimed, but they treated her well. She both hated and loved to admit that Yue had been right, they paid very little attention to her body. Shoko in particular seemed to put all of her attention on simply not getting a volleyball to the face.

“I have my first game next weekend.” The words were accented by small misty puffs that drifted skyward. “Are you going to come?”

“Of course I’ll come. What time does it start?”

“It starts at seven.” She replied. “I would be there by six.” Actually she would be there by five if someone had invited her to a game, but she couldn’t imagine Teo wanting to arrive that early.

“I’ll see if Katara and TyLee want to come.”  He came to a stop. “This is pretty nice.”

She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the pond and its snow-speckled cattails or the faded white gazebo overlooking it. She wheels him toward it, only to find that its only entrance had stairs. She hadn’t seen him look so disappointed in a while. With a deep sigh she attempted to lift him out of the chair. She supposed that she could handle carrying him for that short distance. She set him down on the bench built into the gazebo, facing the water. The effort left her terribly winded but his eyes had such a twinkle. She sat herself down to catch her breath. After a few moments, he pulled out his camera. At first only capturing the pond and the snowfall. Eventually he grew board of this and slung his arm around her.

Her cheeks are rosy with the cold. She cold no longer feel her nose. But she let him snap the picture anyhow.

He snatched up her phone and took a second. How wonderful, she would never have to worry about forgetting the time she almost froze her ass off in a gazebo. She shivered.  With her phone back in her hands, she took off her gloves to send Katara a quick text, asking her to let her know how the trial had gone. That alone, left her hands a shade of pink. She shivered with more force.

“You don’t do too well in the cold do you?”

“I have no idea why you’d say such a thing.” She muttered through chattering teeth.

“Do you want to head back to your place?”

She didn’t spare it a second thought. She scooped Teo back up and put him in his wheelchair. They hadn’t gotten very far at all, in their walk. She supposed that she would have to explore the place in the spring, or at the very least, on a warmer winter day.  

“Whose car is that?” Teo asked.

“I’m not sure, maybe one of mother’s friends.” Using a makeshift ramp, she helped Teo get onto the porch and pulled the door open. Hot air was pleasant on her skin. The smell of herbs was twice as potent as it was prior to her walk. She hung her coat and hat up and made her way into the kitchen, Teo in tow.

“Uncle?”

“Good evening, niece.” He greeted.  “If I would have known you’d have a guest, I would have brought a fifth teacup.” “It’s fine, uncle. Teo and I can share.” She was trembling and desperate for something to warm her. So much so that she almost didn’t ask him what he was doing there.

“I came to drop your brother off.” He filled her cup and handed it to her. “I hope that you will make things easy for him.”

“He wants to live here?” But of course he did, their mother meant the world to him. It was going to be strange to be in his company again. It had been so long. She brought the teacup to her lips, savoring the heat that rolled off of the liquid and onto her tongue.

Azula heard a drawn out beep and Ursa stood. “The two of you made it back just on time for dinner.”  Iroh followed her into the kitchen, no doubt to give she and Zuko some bonding time.

“Sweet.” Teo smiled.

Azula still didn’t share his sentiments. Two weeks into her new meal plan and it still left her feeling privately ashamed and without the comfort of being able to rid herself of it. For an uncountable amount of times, she reminded herself that the purging didn’t do anything anyways. She swept a curtain of hair out of her face and offered the teacup to Teo. She had taken care to leave it half full.

“Thanks.”

She nodded.

.oOo.

Zuko knew that he would be seeing Azula soon, his mother had told him that much. He hadn’t expected to see her enter, hand in hand with Teo. The last he recalled, she was mocking the boy for his condition. And yet, she had helped him get comfortable at the table’s end, she was sharing her drink with him. It would seem that he had missed a lot where Azula was concerned. Every time she spoke it became more apparent. Granted, she was still much quieter than usual--perhaps it was because he had showed up unannounced.

Physically she was different too. His brief and somewhat distant glance at her in the rehab facility hadn’t been enough time to process it. Since then she had put on a little more weight and it occurred to him that, that was why he hadn’t recognized her right away. He felt bad for thinking so, even if she’d never hear it.

And her hair, had it been dyed when he first re-encountered her? He could have sworn that it was fully black. But now her hair faded from its natural hue to a deep crimson to a vivid read. It had been trimmed nicely and framed her face well.

She was wearing makeup again, winging her eyeliner in the way he was use to seeing her wear it.

The clothing she wore was different as well; stylistically it was the same, but it was much baggier. He didn’t know if he should attribute this to insecurities or to the cold.

All in all, she was well put together, as usual. It wasn’t fair that her life could be in such disarray that she needed therapy, and that she could still look as sharp as ever. He wondered if he should vocalize his thoughts but decided against it, not knowing how she would take it. Instead he pulled his chip out of his pocket and set it on the table. “I got my red chip today. Picked it up really early this morning.”

“Your red chip?” Azula asked.

“I’ve been clean for a month.”

“I thought that you were admitted in October.”

“I had a relapse.” He replied reluctantly. As soon as he said it, his stomach heaved. He had just given her a huge opening. He was lucky his mother was still out of earshot, he didn’t want to give her another thing to get teary eyed over.

.oOo.

He relapsed.

Azula supposed that she wasn’t surprised, he hadn’t had many people to support him. She almost felt bad for having people to hold her hand when he had no one until now and most people considered her to be the more unapproachable and unlovable of the two.

She could see it on his face that he thought she was going to hold his confession over him for years to come. But she had nothing to say. She was a pound or two away from having a relapse of her own. “Did you have to go through it alone? The withdrawl, I mean?”

“No, I had Hahn.”

“Hahn?”

“He’s two years clean and he likes to drop by to help newcomers.”

She didn’t know where to carry the conversation from there and a hush fell over them. Zuko rested his arm on the table, it still bore signs of abuse. Pockmarks accented the length of his forearm and she was almost certain that those scars would remain.

Aside from that, he seemed to be in a much better state. His hair was clean, his face was well-shaved again. He no longer had the look of a man in times of famine. His eyes stood out the most. They were focused and had a spark to them.

His eyes had life.

It didn’t occur to her just how haunting and hollow his appearance had diminished until, the old Zuko resurfaced.  She picked up the chip. “One month.” She wondered if bulimics got special chips.

Zuko smiled, he seemed so proud. He had well and earned his right to be so. She flicked the coin back to him. He caught it and returned it to his pocket.

“Wow, you guys are tense.” Teo remarked. She had to ponder upon what his relationship with his brother might have been like.

“So, when did you and Azula become friends?”

“Friendship happened some time in September. Dating started...actually that’s kind of unclear, it just kind of happened.” Teo replied.

“He’s your…?”

“Yes, perhaps you should get one.”

“For your information, I already did.”

“You got back with Mai, already?” Azula asked. It brought a dull ache to her heart to think of Mai. The girl hadn’t spoken to her in ages and the thought of reaching out...that window had well and passed.

“No.” Zuko replied. “We were talking about boyfriends. I said that I got one of those.”

“It’s Hahn isn’t it?” His face flushed and Azula smirked. “It is Hahn.”

She tried not to think about where that was going to leave Mai.

.oOo.

Zuko smiled to himself, dinner had gone so much better than he thought it would. Speaking to Azula became surprisingly pleasant after some of the awkwardness cleared. She, him, uncle, and mother--aside from the absence of a father, it was like a real family dinner. If things with Ozai hadn’t been so rough and recent, he might have made a joke about Teo filling in for their father. But Ozai was one subject Zuko couldn’t seem to make light of. And Azula? She didn’t bring the man up at all. In fact, she still hadn’t reveal anything at all about what had led to her living with their mother.

Altho, hesitantly, she was eating again. A full and regular meal at that. She made no mention of this either and he felt like he’d be pushing boundaries to ask.

He would chalk it up to Ozai simply forcing her to fast. That would explain, at least a little, how she ended up at the table with he, mother, and uncle.  

After a while, she pushed a mostly empty plate to the side and announced that she was going to be taking Teo home. It was getting late and she had a two hour commute going both ways.

Now it was just he, uncle and mother.

“Do you want me to get your things from the car?” Iroh offered.

“Please.” Zuko replied.

“While he does that, I can show you to your room.” Ursa spoke. “I didn’t realize you were coming, otherwise I would have gotten you things to decorate with, like I did for Azula.”

“It’s okay.” He was just glad to be in her care again.

“Tomorrow we can go to the store and pick up a few things.”

That sounded good to him. She led him around the mansion. It was a lovely place with a much warmer and more inviting ambiance than Ozai could have ever hoped to create. With the conversation and his thoughts in a calmer, quieter place, it registered that Ursa had soft music playing in the background. The Chinese harp and a Chinese zither welcomed him to his new life.

The wallpaper was as floral as her garden. Winter plants, hung in pots by every window. She led him passed Azula’s room. It was as tidy and organized as ever. He noticed that she was displaying her medals and trophies again. Her favorite volleyball, was propped against her dresser.

He didn’t know how he was going to decorate his room yet. A few rock band posters couldn’t hurt. He’d probably place the tea set Iroh gifted to him on his dresser. Other than that, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He’d probably just collect things to decorate with over time.

“Are you disappointed in me?” He asked.

Ursa came to an abrupt halt. “Why would you think that? I haven’t done anything to make you feel that way, did I?”

“No.” Zuko replied. “But I feel like having a heroin addict for a son, isn’t something to be proud of.”

“Oh, Zuko.” She took him into a hug. The kind he had longed for since the divorce. The kind that made him feel like he was worth the world. “I’m going to tell you what I told Azula.” She paused. “I’m not disappointed in you, I’m disappointed in your father for driving you to this. I’m furious actually. The court gave you to him, thinking that he’d give you a better life. I let him take you because I thought that he could provide for you better than I would.”

“Living on the streets with you, would have been safer than living with him.” Zuko agreed. “Maybe not for Azula, but…”

“Zuko.” She spoke firmly.  “There’s a reason I’m fighting for custody over her. I’ll leave it to her to tell you about that, but Ozai was no good for her either. I need the two of you to support each other. If the two of us can work things out with her, your father will have that much less in his favor.”

.oOo.

Teo beckoned her inside. It was already 10:33. She rolled her eyes, “I can’t go in before you, you need me to hold the door, remember.”

“Let me at least pretend to be a gentleman.”

She took hold of the outer glass door and allowed him to pass. The inner door stood open on its own. “Now you can be a gentleman.”

“Urge gone.” He replied, wheeling himself the rest of the way in.

“Incredible.”  She muttered under her breath. She hadn’t the time to come inside anyhow. “I have to get going.”

“How long is your drive?” Teo’s father asked.

“Two hours.”

“That is way too late to be driving!” The man declared. “You know, tired driving is as dangerous as drunk driving…”

“Dad!” Teo cut him off. “Do you want to spend the night, Azula?”

Azula sighed. Well, she was living with her mother now, she might as well give her something classically motherly to worry about. She sent the woman a text, telling her that she would be spending the night at Teo’s house.

“Our picture already got likes.” Teo remarked once they were in his bedroom.

“You posted that!?”

“You didn’t say not to.”

Fair point. She still didn’t like it.

“Who’s Nagako?”

“She sits with me at lunch.” Azula replied. She opened up her phone’s internet browser. She hadn’t logged into any of her social media pages since her attempt. She hadn’t anyone to talk to. It shouldn’t have been a shock to find new friend requests, it should have been something she was used to. Once upon a time, she had received them daily. She approved Katara, Nagako, and her volleyball team. “This guy seems like a creep, I should block him.”

Teo, still looking down at his phone, replied, “yeah.”

She hit the block button.

It took him a few moments. “Hey! Unblock me!”

Her smirk only faded when a message notification popped up. Really, it would do her well to leave it unread. But she was curious. Curious and unwilling to look like a coward.  She unblocked Teo before clicking it.

The message was much simpler than she would have thought. ‘Please don’t sue me.’ He was typing again. ‘My parents will kick my ass.’

All the more reason to go through with the lawsuit.

“Who is it?”

“Chan.”

“What does he want?”

Azula shrugged. “Mercy.”

Her fingers hovered over the phone’s keyboard. ‘I’ll kick your ass myself.’  Against her better judgement, she hit send.

‘So will I. I’ve been doing a pretty good job of kicking my own ass, actually.’

She had a response at the ready, but he started typing again.

‘Can we talk.’

‘We’re talking now.’ She replied before he could begin again.

‘In person?’

‘That sounds like a perfectly horrible idea.’

Another message popped up. Clicking on that one would have been a worse idea still. He was going to have her head for it, but she blocked her father anyhow. The action left her feeling exposed and uneasy.

‘Please.’ Chan persisted. ‘You can bring that Ryoko chick, she looks perfectly terrifying.’

Azula looked to Teo, “you up for a little...adventure tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me if I want to talk to Chan with you?”

“Come or don’t come, I’m rather curious.”

“Fine, I’ll go with.”

She turned her attention back to her phone. ‘12:00. If you aren’t there at exactly 12:00, you won’t be seeing me.’

.oOo.

Zuko stretched and yawned. The scent of pancakes tickled his nose. It took him a moment to recall that he was in a new bed. A more comfortable one with a foam mattress and a collection of push pillows. The sun streamed through his windows as brightly as winter would allow.

“Did Azula ever come home?” Zuko asked, upon finding only his mother at the table.

“She spent the night at Teo’s.” Ursa answered. “Syrup?”

Zuko took the syrup and poured a generous amount over his pancakes. The smell of coffee adds a friendly tang to the morning. He couldn’t fathom why he hadn’t thought of finding and living with his mother earlier.

It might have saved him from a trip to rehab.

But then, he had started using heroin before his eighteenth birthday. Even so, he can’t bring himself to wholly regret having started his use. He didn’t think that finding Ursa would have been possible without. Even if that was the case, he wouldn’t have met Hahn.

“These are really good!” Zuko commented. He couldn’t recall the last time he had eaten homemade pancakes. Tastes like the would surely keep him away from heroine. He liked to think so anyways.

“Thank you.” Ursa smiled. “I thought that it would be too late to ever cook for my children again.”

His phone flashed, he picked it up, eager for good morning wishes from uncle or Hahn. Instead Mai’s name glared from the screen. He considered letting it pile on top of all of the other messages from her, he had missed while in rehab.

.oOo.

Chan stuffed his hands into his pockets. He wasn’t looking forward to this one at all. The trial had good and ruined his Saturday, he might as well end the weekend on a sour note. The only good news was that Jet’s collection of outbursts had essentially sealed his fate. But he didn’t condemn himself without collateral damage. The man went on a good tangent about how Chan had, had a good hand in Ruon’s demise. How his parties were trashy and perfect for people like Jet. He had asked Chan if he considered how many other people had been assaulted at his parties, people who didn’t and would never come forward. It turned his stomach.

And turned it twice over when Jet stated that he had enjoyed hitting Ruon where it hurt. Thrice over when Jet stated that he had laid some unwanted moves on Ruon, just to see him squirm.

The boy was vile through and through, and not the kind that could be helped. Chan had to guess that the boy didn’t want to change.

It was his final words that followed him. “Punch me as much as you want, you killed him too.”

He had, hadn’t he? Ruon was dead because everything had been a joke or a party to Chan. It was easier that way, until it wasn’t.

He could have pulled Jet off of Katara and made something of himself. It could have been an eye-opener, but it was easier to remain blind.

Ruon killed himself because he had a friend who was def to his problems.

He killed Ruon just as much as Jet had.

He had almost done Azula the same.

Hell, he probably had Teo teetering close to the edge and Katara as well.

It was frigid and nippy as hell but he made his way down to the beach. She hadn’t told him where to meet her. She didn’t need to. He wandered to the volleyball court, the season had already formed sparkling crystals on the net.

12:00 turned into 12:01 and 12:01 turned into 12:02.

He should have asked for a location.

“You better make this worth my while.” He jumped at the sound of her voice. “You know that I hate this weather.” She was buried beneath so many layers, it was hard to forget. He did try to forget, however, the day he had taken her ice skating and she bundled herself up in much the same way.

“You said 12:00.” He commented lamely.

“Yes, you needed to be here by 12:00. I get to take my time.” Her voice dripped with venom and hate and he was beginning to regret extending the invitation. “Katara told me that you got out of your last trail without repercussion. Why shouldn’t I change that?” She folded her arms over her chest.

It was hard to gauge her expression beneath her layers of hoods. He didn’t need to see it to know that she was unshakably pissed. The biting cold wasn’t doing him any favors. “Do you want to go to a restaurant or something?”

Wrong move.

“What, so you can make more fat jokes?”

Completely wrong move.

“Do you think I’m as dull as you?”

He looked to Teo for help. He knew he wouldn’t get it based on that shit eating grin the boy was wearing.

“I just thought that you’d want to go somewhere warmer.”

“Not necessary, this conversation is going to be quick.” Azula replied. “I believe that it’s already almost over.

He groaned, he was going to have to swallow his pride. “Okay, look, I was an asshole.”

“You speak as though you aren’t still.”

The girl was merciless. He supposed that it was nice to see fire back on her tongue, he just wished it wasn’t lashing at him. Still, he knew that the lashes were well earned, he had been one of the people to kill the flame in the first place.

“I’m trying to fix that.”

“You’re trying to save yourself from another trial.”

“I don’t want to be like him.” Chan insisted. “Did Teo give you this big of a hassle when you apologized to him!?”

“Kiss my ass, Chan.”

Teo’s snickering didn’t do Chan’s temper any favors.

“I’m trying!” He sputtered. “And it is not working.”

“Clearly.” Teo snorted.

Azula looked horrifically unamused. She looked down at her phone. “I live two hours away, thank you for your hand in that, by the way. I have to get going. Have fun with Usha.”

“Wait!” Chan raked his hands through his hair. “I don’t even like Usha. I only got with her to bother you.”

“Congratulations, it worked for a while. Good to know that it bothered you too.”  She hit a button on her car keys and he heard the faint pop of the doors unlocking. She turned around. “While I’m here, I might as well ask why.”

“Why what?”

“Why did you want to bother me?”

“I wanted attention.” He confessed.

“You had it.” Azula scoffed. “I want a real reason.”

And he had none for her. They’d known each other for years. They had been in the same group of friends for years. Until her accident. He knew that Usha had been sitting there nice, pretty, and waiting for Azula to fall so that she could take her place at the top. She told him that much. But him? Where was the appeal for him?

He couldn’t say why, but it had simply been fun. It was one thing to pick on a nerd and a completely new and interesting experience to pick on someone who had toppled painfully down the social ladder. Was that it? Was that really the only reason he had done it?

“I don’t have one.” He admitted.

“I know.”

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she wheeled Teo back up the beach. Between the sand and the ice, it was a task she was struggling with. He reached out. “If anyone’s accidently dumping Teo into the snow, it’s going to be me. You’ve pushed him out of his chair enough.”

She wasn’t missing one chance. “It’s good to have you back.” He tried. It was one final attempt at ass kissing.

“You do not have me back.” She huffed as she fought to free Teo’s wheelchair from a mound of snowy sand. It would be comical if she wasn’t so frustrated and he wasn’t so stressed. “Not even.” Another huff. “Close.”  The chair was free.

“I mean that it’s good to hear some of that sass again.” If nothing else, at least he knew that he hadn’t left any permanent damage to her self-worth. “Can I please help you wheel nerdass...Teo back to your car?”

“Nerdass doesn’t want your help.” Teo grumbled.

“Neither do I.”

He watched her help Teo into her car and then she climbed into it for herself. It would seem that things were finally going to catch up to him. She turned her keys and the engine wheezes. She gave it a second go and a third. He wasn’t a lip reader, but he knew her well enough to know that she was silently cursing to herself and to Teo.

“I have a car and jumper cables.” Chan offered.

“Call the tow truck, Teo.”

“Really?” He sputtered. “Now you’re just being difficult.”

“Correct.”

Chan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’m sorry. Do you want to slap me in the face or something? Would that help?”

He didn’t expect her to take him up on his offer. The sting her hand left reminded him exactly why she had been so good at volleyball. “It helped a little.”

“How many slaps will it take to get you to hear me out?” He asked.

“At least one.”

He sucked in a deep breath, “go on.”

She rolled her eyes. “Start jumping my car. We can talk while you do that.”

#Avatar #Azula #Zuko #Iroh #Ursa #Teo #Chan #Mai #TyLee #Katara #Sokka #Suki #Aang #Toph #Ozai #Jet #Fanfiction

[lykegenia]

The Things We Hide Ch. 8

The Southern Water Tribe stood for a hundred years against the Fire Nation, indomitable until Sozin’s Comet tipped the balance in Fire Lord Ozai’s favour. Now, as planned, the South is decimated, Chief Hakoda is a puppet on his throne, and Princess Katara is a political prisoner held in the Fire Nation capital to ensure his good behaviour. But Ozai has little time to gloat. A vigilante masquerading as the Blue Spirit is causing unrest among the people, rebel ships still hound his navy, and right under his nose the South’s most powerful waterbender waits with the patience of ice to strike at the very heart of his empire and bring it crashing down.

Chapter 1 on AO3 Masterpost here

Words: 5563 Pairing: Zuko x Katara Chapter Summary: Needing a break from tracking down the saboteur, Zuko fulfils his promise to show Katara the Caldera.

Read it on AO3

The papers scattered over Zuko’s desk were beginning to give him a headache. In addition to the war accounts, petitions, and updates on the repair of the harbour wall, a scribe had seen fit to dump the reports from the guard about their night-time encounter with the Blue Spirit onto his desk. They were complete nonsense, of course, made to excuse their failure to capture him, but the outlandish claims added to his smokescreen and to his reputation. His mysterious companion got a mention, too, only she had been multiplied half a dozen times into an army of assassins conjured from thin air.

Stifling a groan, he rose and went to the window that looked out over the turtleduck pond. When he moved, he felt the pull of the newly healed scar tissue on his shoulder – he had looked at it in the mirror that morning, had run his fingers over its length, and aside from a pinkish sheen, there was nothing to mark the vicious wound that had been there the night before. Thoughts of the woman who had healed him swirled around in his head. On the one hand, she had shown such compassion towards that poor boy’s mother, and had stepped in to help him defend the shopkeeper from the guard without spilling a single drop of blood. Her martial skills were impressive, her restraint honourable, her eyes by moments fierce then kind.

Of course, this estimation of her as a person warred with his growing conviction that she was the same warrior he had seen that night at the docks, the Water Tribe warpaint that disguised the contours of her face lit by the flames of the Akagi and the Ryujo. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became. She may not have fought with water, but then he never fought with fire as the Blue Spirit, either. How many of the reports in the library mentioned the uncanny mists used by waterbenders to stalk their prey – and how else could he explain the sudden fog that appeared just when they needed it most?

He should have followed her. That, he told himself, was the reason for his current headache. However dishonourable an act, if he had followed her home he could have learned her identity. He could have made an arrest and earned the Fire Lord’s approval instead of letting a probable saboteur roam free. And yet…

Zuko looked over the wilting plants in the garden. The grass was yellowed, the bushes covered in a fine layer of dust, the flowers shrivelled on their stalks. What the capital needed was rain, the cooling touch of water to wash away the dirt and bring new growth to the gardens and the rice fields of the Fire Nation. He frowned, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder. The monsoon always came with violent thunderstorms and flash floods that could wash away entire villages in a single night, and that was the sort of chaos this waterbender would bring. He needed to find her.

“My, but that’s a deep sigh for so early in the morning.”

Zuko straightened, hurriedly adjusting the fall of his robes. “Mother.”

“What were you thinking to put such a scowl on your face?” Ursa asked, stepping into the room. Her voice was always so melodic, it rarely failed to put him in a lighter mood.

“The rains are late,” he said. “There could be riots if they don’t come soon, especially considering all the shortages caused by our last campaign.”

“It’s not your responsibility to think of such things,” his mother replied mildly. “Focus your energies on the things you can change, and on planning for when you have the ability to do more.”

“And how bad will things get in the meantime?” Zuko snapped.

Ursa’s gaze softened, and she glided over in a soft rustle of heavy silks, her hands held out for him to clasp. She ran a hand through his hair. “It makes my heart glad to see that even after all this time, you still won’t give up without a fight.”

Zuko’s scowl only deepened.

“Perhaps what you need is a break.”

“I scheduled firebending practice this afternoon.”

“I was thinking something a little more out of the ordinary, maybe a change of scenery,” she said, folding her hands back into the trailing ends of her sleeves. It was a mild gesture designed to put someone at their ease, and it only increased Zuko’s certainty that this was not an idle visit.

“What’s that?” he asked, because the scroll tucked into the sash around her waist was an obvious invitation.

“Hmm? Oh, this.” His mother pulled the paper out, smoothing the creases with her fingers. “It’s a thank you from Lady Katara for lending her those books from my library last week. I must say, her education is coming on in leaps and bounds – or as far as it can while she remains trapped inside that house.”

Zuko tried to ignore the jolt in his stomach at the mention of Katara’s name. Truly, he had barely spared her a thought in the past few weeks, preoccupied instead with much more urgent matters. But Ursa was looking at him expectantly now, and with a sinking heart he knew where the conversation was going.

“Mother…”

“She is an ally, not a prisoner –” He pressed his lips shut so as not to call out the lie – “And it does her no good to be cooped up like a criminal.”

“It’s as much for her safety as anything else,” Zuko replied. “The people are restless – suspicious, even.”

“Well, all the more reason then for the people to see her out and about, so that they realise they have nothing to fear.” His mother smiled. “Wasn’t that the reason the Fire Lord wished her to stay, so that we could build cultural ties? A good start would be by showing her the commerce of the city – the Southern Water Tribe’s knowledge of seafaring would increase our ability to trade exponentially.”

“Well, yes, but –”

“And I distinctly remember hearing you offer to show the Caldera to our guest.”

He opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut when his reply failed to materialise, deciding instead to hide the slight pink flush of his cheeks by pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighed and thought about the grubby bundle waiting in the secret drawer of his desk. A visit would be the perfect excuse to give it to her.

“It was sweet of you to offer, Zuko,” his mother said. “Katara has few friends here, I’m sure she would welcome the excursion, especially with such a handsome escort.”

“Mother!”

She only hid her grin behind her sleeve, her eyes dancing with amusement at his discomposure. He bore it, because it was rare to see her so genuinely pleased, but he worried that if she didn’t look away soon the heat creeping up his neck would be enough to set his clothes on fire. There was no need for such embarrassment, of course, because he had no time to think about the preferences of some Water Tribe princess when he had a city to run and a saboteur to apprehend. She probably wouldn’t like him anyway, not like that. From what he had seen of the guardsmen who attended her, men from the South tended towards brawn, all built muscle and skin darkened by time in the sun, and that was even without considering the possibility that she had left someone back home – a young warrior, perhaps, who could wrestle down a polar bear-dog and made her pretty trinkets from the bones –

“If it will please you, Mother, I will send an invitation,” Zuko said. “But it’s too late to go today, and a guard will have to be organised.”

If nothing else, he could use the time to find out more about waterbending.

Katara sat patiently while Hama piled ever more pins into her hair. Zuko’s invitation from the day before sat on her writing table amid an assortment of maps, plans, and the patrol routes she had swiped from the guardhouse, but so far they had proven almost worthless. What good was knowing her way about the city when the information she needed on their missing waterbenders was likely kept up at the palace? Nila had her own methods, of course, and had mentioned over breakfast that morning that a group of spies were already making inroads through the archipelago. What she needed in the meantime was a way into one of the messenger towers that regulated the movements of Fire Nation troops.

“I still say I should be going with you,” Hama grumbled, interrupting Katara’s thoughts.

She grinned. “And blow your cover as a sweet, frail old lady? Ow!” She jerked away from the stab of the pin, deciding not to notice the mutinous grumbling of her nanny. “It’ll be alright, Hama,” she said instead. “Attuk and the others will be with me, and I’m too valuable a hostage for them to let anything to happen to me.”

Nila entered carrying a tea tray. “She’s right. Ozai knows that if anything happens – Spirits forbid – then the whole of the South would take it upon themselves to wreak vengeance. He’s a coward but not a fool.”

“I still say it’s too big a risk,” Hama retorted. “Anything could happen. You’re trained against assassins. You’ll react, and they’ll know you for what you are.”

“Attuk will make sure no harm come to me, and I know some non-bending tricks, too.” Katara laid her hand on the old general’s arm, but Hama was not comforted.

“The water flows with you, girl. It’ll only take one second of instinct for everything we’ve worked for to come crashing down.”

“I’m more worried about this prince,” interrupted Nila. “Why choose now to offer an invitation? Alone? He could have done it weeks ago. He suspects you.”

“If he does,” Katara said, “then it would look more suspicious if I declined, don’t you think? These clothes are ridiculous,” she added, when she tried to shift position and only managed to trip over her sleeve.

“Fire Nation nobility don’t seem to favour practicality.”

“Apparently not.”

Despite the cumbersome cut of the dress, however, Katara found herself admiring the elegance they gave to her movements. When she walked past the mirror, she seemed to float, and the pale lilac colour of the silk was striking against the warm brown of her skin. Oh yes, she decided, rolling back her sleeve, it was just the sort of garment that might make a prince forget to guard his tongue.

Hama tugged another braid into place. “I know what you’re thinking, child, and I’m warning you now not to underestimate this Prince Zuko. He’s not cunning like his sister, but he is clever. Don’t push him too far.”

“Will you stop worrying? I’ll be fine.”

“Hunters who don’t watch the tide will all too soon find themselves lost at sea,” came the staid reply.

Katara fought the urge to roll her eyes, knowing she’d only likely get stabbed with another hairpin. She was saved the need to reply, because Attuk rapped on the door to her private chambers and informed her the prince had arrived. Taking a deep breath, she let Nila arrange the many layers of her silk dress, and then stepped outside into the heat of the morning. Attuk nodded to her when she was composed, and together with the rest of the guards who would be accompanying her to the marketplace, they set a sedate pace towards the magnolia courtyard where Zuko waited.

Zuko obviously heard them coming. He was standing at attention in the shade of the trees, looking younger without the bulky black armour he had worn on his previous visit, but still stern. The frown melted away when he caught sight of her, however, and Katara felt a rush of satisfaction knowing her appearance was enough to make his mouth fall open like a frog’s.

“Prince Zuko,” she said with a smile. “It’s an honour to welcome you back to my home again.”

He recovered his composure rather well and bowed. “I only regret circumstances got in the way of me paying a visit sooner. Are you ready to go?”

“I am.”

She stretched out a hand, and now that his courtly manners were back in place he managed to take it with only the barest hint of a blush. His fingers were warm, but not clammy like she might have expected, and for an instant she was content to let him lead her out of the gate, until she remembered his warmth was the warmth of a firebender. His hands were like those that had destroyed her home.

“My servants have told me about the market here,” she said to distract herself. Politeness is a deep lake on a still day. “But it’s not the same as going yourself. I’m quite looking forward to it – oh, we’re going in that?”

The palanquin squatted in the street, the eight men employed to carry it crouched in the struts in an image of complete humility. They kept their eyes downcast as the prince approached, showing no discomfort though sweat beaded on their foreheads and their legs must have been cramped from kneeling. For someone used to walking amongst her own people, seeing servants so abject left a bad taste in Katara’s mouth.

“It’s best for where we want to go.” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “The streets are too narrow for komodo-rhinos and I’m afraid an ostrich-horse would probably spook at the crowds.”

“And the screens?” Katara asked pleasantly. “Are they to keep people from seeing us, or to keep me from seeing where we’re going?”

He stared at her, colouring. “Um, they’re to keep out the dust. We can open them if you want.” He watched her glance backwards to her guard captain, who reassured her with a nod that they would be right behind if anything went amiss. The harsh glance he threw in Zuko’s direction left no uncertainty that the prince was one of the things included in ‘amiss’.

“I’d like to see the city,” Katara decided, and allowed herself to be helped into the palanquin. She stumbled a bit on the soft cushions, but she settled herself well enough, her face once more a mask of cool indifference. He made sure to sit as far away from her as possible, partly to balance the weight for the bearers, and partly so that she wouldn’t feel crowded in the small space. A second palanquin might have been a better idea, but that would have turned an informal excursion into a parade, which would be less than helpful for putting the Water Tribe princess at her ease.

“Raise the blinds,” he ordered, and it was done.

After that, he couldn’t think of anything to say. The journey through the upper quarter of the city was leisurely, with little traffic on the streets, and it would have been perfectly unremarkable for Zuko, except for Katara’s presence. At first, she sat stiffly, her hands folded over her lap, her expression fixed into one of disinterest he didn’t know how to counter. But then, little by little, her curiosity overcame her formality, and she started to look around, craning to look down the alleys branching off from the main streets, remarking on the fountains that filled every square, and even once forgot her composure enough to smile when she caught a distant glimpse of the sea. Her eyes really were the most remarkable shade of blue.

“Staring’s rude where I come from, you know.” Just like that, she was back to playing the doll, and Zuko found he missed her interest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, because he hadn’t even realised he was staring.

Katara refolded the end of her sleeve, her gaze fixed on the branches of a mangingko tree hanging over someone’s wall. “What, err, were you looking at?”

“Nothing,” came the hurried reply, but then, because he needed to say something else or let their awkward silence take over again, “I was wondering, um, why do you wear your hair like that?”

“Like what?”

“With the… loopies, and all the beads,” he finished lamely, with a vague gesture in her direction. “Not that I don’t think it looks nice, of course – it does – and not that I think you did it because you thought I’d like it, I remember it was like that in the throne room. It’s just so… intricate. It must have taken a long time to do.” He looked up to find her frowning at him, and regretted saying anything at all. “Forget it. You don’t have to answer.”

“No,” Katara said. “It’s alright. It’s not a secret, I just never thought you would be interested in that kind of thing.”

“All your people have braided hair, and everyone’s is different.”

She smiled, and fiddled with a loose lock that had fallen over her shoulder. “It’s a way of showing people who we are,” she explained. “There are braids to show our lineage, our role in society, who we are as people. It’s not practical for everyday, because it does take a lot of time to do, but on formal occasions it’s a symbol for others to recognise.”

“Is this a formal occasion, then?” Zuko asked.

She shrugged. “My nanny is old-fashioned. And I think it gives her something to do – she’s afraid all our traditions will fade away now that the South has allied with the Fire Nation.”

He nodded, noticing the slight purse of her lips when she spoke. “I think… we might not be that different, in some ways. Here, the length of a person’s hair matches their status. It’s not as common now, but a few generations ago, some noblewomen had special servants who followed them just to carry their hair. If a person gets banished, there’s still a ritual where all their hair gets cut off, so that they become less than nothing.” He had only seen the ceremony only once, after Admiral Zhao had failed to subjugate the Northern Water Tribe, but the memory of the man’s frantic pleading and the silver flash of the knife stuck in his memory.

“It sounds harsh.”

It was his turn to shrug. “It’s the sentence for traitors.”

For a while, silence pressed on them again. Zuko cast around for something to say, knowing that his mother would chide him for being so ungallant, and that anyone else at court would leap at the chance to hold a conversation with a foreign princess. Then his eyes caught a flash of blue.

“Can ask about your necklace?”

Katara blinked at him in surprise. “My…?”

“It’s the same one you were wearing before,” he explained, watching her fingers reach for the intricately carved disk.

“I – it was my mother’s,” she said. “It’s all I have left of hers.”

“She’s dead?” he shouldn’t have asked, of course he said the wrong thing, now there was no way to –

“A lot of people I know are dead now,” she snapped. She turned away to look at a passing flock of sparrowkeets, but he didn’t miss the way she swiped at her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know if I ever lost my mother…” His hands clenched on his knees. The right question – he had to find the right question to make up for his blunder. “If – if you don’t mind me asking, what was she like?”

He didn’t think she would answer, and resigned himself to spending the rest of the trip in awkward silence, until he heard a sniff and the barely whispered reply.

“She was brave.”

--

They made it to the market without Zuko managing to embarrass himself further, and he was determined to keep it that way and prove himself a better host than he had been so far. What his mother – or Azula – would say if they ever found out he made Katara cry, he didn’t want to imagine. So instead, he threw himself into showing her the market.

At first, the stallholders seemed wary of him, but after a few embarrassed moments where a pottery seller bowed all the way to the floor in front of him, they seemed to get the message and he and Katara became just another pair lost in the crowd, albeit on with a contingent of guards following after them. He relaxed. It had been years since he walked among his citizens so openly.

He had been worried about the people’s reaction to Katara – after all, she was the daughter of the man who had waged war against them for over a century – but within minutes her easy manner had charmed everyone within earshot. The old women on the stalls fawned over her like a pet; they admired the quality of her gown and praised her taste in porcelain, and altogether did a much better job of cheering her up than Zuko himself could ever have managed. Occasionally Katara turned to him, finding the fast jabber of their dialect too difficult for her unpracticed ear. He was only too happy to translate for her. It made her smile.

All too soon, their guards became loaded down with reams of silk, packets of tea, and rather a lot of expensive jewellery, and looked rather disgruntled about it.

“What’s that smell?” Katara asked, interrupting a man in the middle of trying to sell her a jade figurine of a flying ostrich-horse. “It smells wonderful.”

Zuko’s stomach rumbled. “It’s the spices from the food market,” he said. “It’s in the lower part of the bazaar, so it’d be better if –”

“I want to see.”

“Katara – no, wait!” He reached out, but she had already slipped through the crowd. “Does she always have this much energy?” he asked the Water Tribe guard captain. The man only gave him a sullen roll of his eyes before lifting his armful of packages higher and following after his charge.

The streets became more packed the further they went through the market, and soon not even the threat of the royal guard could stop Zuko from being jostled, but he didn’t care. His eyes were fixed on the flash of lilac bobbing ahead of him through the crowd. He didn’t understand how Katara found it so easy to dodge her way through the mass of people, but eventually even she was brought to a halt.

The alleyway to which she had led them was bisected by a wider avenue, cordoned off with red silk ropes to hold the crowd back. Street-sellers took advantage of the crush to shout the benefits of their wares to those close enough to listen, but it was not enough to drown out the clamour of bells and drums coming nearer and nearer. It must be a festival.

Still trying to push the crowd out of his way, Zuko didn’t really care which one. He barely noticed when the lacquered paper statue of the Painted Lady rode past in its palanquin, adorned with garlands of foil flowers and sticks of sweet incense, because he was too busy watching as Katara stretched up on tiptoe to get a better look, just as caught up in the celebration as everyone around her. He also noticed the beggar sidling up to her, attracted by her fine clothes.

“Please, beauty, would you help a poor old man?” he asked, raising a wooden bowl to her with his head ducked low. “Spirits shine on your generosity, oh flower of the…” He glanced up and in an instant his face contorted into a snarl. He dropped the bowl with a screamed curse and raised a crippled fist to strike.

Before Katara could react, two of the Fire Nation royal guard burst through the crowd and sent the beggar to his knees. He struggled against their hold.

“Witch!” he shouted. “Barbarian! Go back where you came from and freeze! You dress proper, but we all see what you are! We don’t want –”

The beggar’s face went slack with fear, a rope of spit dribbling down his stubbled chin. Katara followed the line of his gaze and found Zuko at her side, a hand protectively on her arm as he glared down with a cold fury that made her heart skip faster in fear. Then he turned to her, and the burning gold of his eyes softened, and somehow that was worse.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes – yes, I’m fine.” She let out a slow breath, more shaken than she would have liked to admit, and eased her hold on the soup in a nearby noodle stand. A few more seconds, and she might have blown her cover, exactly as Hama feared. All their plans, ruined in an instant because she let her guard down.

“What should we do with him, Your Highness?” one of the guards asked.

The beggar whimpered. The spectators, intrigued by the unexpected entertainment, formed a loose ring around them. Zuko licked his lips and leaned close to Katara.

“The insult was to you. What do you want done?”

She blinked in surprise, trying to find an ulterior motive behind the words, but the prince’s expression was earnest, honest even. She looked around for inspiration. Justice worked differently here, and she would have to be careful. The statue of the spirit passed over the heads of the crowd, and gave her an idea.

“Tell me about this festival, and His Highness will be lenient,” she said.

The beggar looked to Zuko, who nodded once. “Tis the festival of the Painted Lady. The acolytes of the sages bring her from the shrine at the mountain spring through the temples of the city so that she may bless them and receive offerings that bring the rain. She… intercedes when humanity angers the spirit world, most forgiving lady, and brings health to the sick, vengeance to the wronged – mercy to those unjustly punished,” he added hopefully.

Katara nodded, her mind already working. “Thank you. You have enlightened me. Prince Zuko?” she felt him shift beside her, drawing up so his voice could carry across the street.

“The Southern Water Tribe are our allies,” he announced. “Any violence against Princess Katara or her entourage will be taken as violence against Ourselves, and with the same laws and sanctions for all citizens thereby.” A sob from the beggar. Zuko dropped his voice and turned to him. “In honour of this holiday, and because this lady called upon my mercy, you are spared punishment this once. You should use the opportunity to rethink your condemnation of the Water Tribes.”

Slowly, the crowd dispersed, leaving Zuko and Katara with space to breathe. One of the guards shoved the beggar’s bowl into his hands and pushed him away with a grunt, clearly unhappy to let him go.

“My lady, we should get you out of this heat,” Attuk said, looming next to Katara. “You’ve had an upset, and your ladies will want to know you’re safe.”

“You’re right, of course,” she replied, her eyes falling on a stand selling fireworks and souvenirs from the festival. “That was a lucky escape, we shouldn’t push our luck.” She glanced at Zuko, who was busy giving orders to have the palanquin brought to them, so she beckoned her guard captain closer. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Probably not.”

In what seemed like no time at all the guards bundled her and Zuko into the palanquin, then piled the day’s shopping into a handcart with an extortionate amount of gold for the driver, and gave orders for the goods to follow on. This time, they rode with the blinds shut, which made the box dark and stifling, and Katara was reminded of the dismal hold of the Fire Nation ship that had brought her to the capital.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Zuko said after a prolonged, terse silence.

She jumped. The heat tried her temper, and her need to be polite, to demure, only made her want to water-smack something harder. And what if any of the guard suspected what she had almost done?

“He was afraid of you,” she replied. “That man. Do all the people who have served in the military become beggars here?”

“What?”

“The man’s insignia. I recognised it. He was a Southern Raider once, and now he’s less than nothing.”

Zuko opened his mouth to reply, but frowned instead and turned away. “I didn’t think you would feel sympathy for someone like that.”

“Why?” she asked. “Because he was once ordered to attack my people? Because for all I know he killed those I cared about?”

“Well, yes.”

She shot him an icy look, her voice low like the approaching hum of a blizzard. “Who was it giving the orders, Prince Zuko?”

“He attacked you!” he cried. “Why aren’t you mad at him?”

“Because I know what fighting makes people do,” she snapped. “War is just a distant thing to you here, just a lot of maps and little bamboo counters like it’s a child’s game. But I grew up with it. I lived it.”

He looked like he’d been struck, and too late she tried to block the dam of her anger, chastising herself for her outburst. If he didn’t suspect her before, then he certainly would now that she had all but accused him of genocide. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, she made a point of fussing with the arrangement of her sleeves and skirts so she wouldn’t have to look at him, all the while aware that he had yet to stop staring at her.

When the palanquin was finally set down and Attuk drew up the blinds, she couldn’t stumble out fast enough. Even the baking sun was a relief since it meant she could feel a breeze on the back of her neck, and with her front gate so close she could almost feel the blessed creep of ice along her skin.

“Lady Katara, wait.”

Zuko stepped out of the palanquin, holding a box wrapped in gold paper.

“Thank you for the excursion, Prince Zuko,” she said formally. “It was most diverting.”

“I have something that belongs to you,” he blurted, then paused to rub the back of his neck. “Well, it belonged to your father, but he’s at the South Pole, so he can’t – and… here.” He thrust the box into her arms, colouring scarlet when she finally overcame her confusion enough to rip the paper off.

She gasped when her father’s hunting pouch fell into her hands. It was badly charred, the stitching popped and her mother’s intricate dyework almost destroyed, but she would recognise it anywhere. With shaking fingers, she undid the straps holding it closed, and the warped leather opened to reveal all the tools she had known since childhood: the awl, the spark rocks – even the antler scraper he had made from his first kill had survived. She knew the stories her father told through these objects, had felt the pain that throbbed through all her people in the throne room on the day the Fire Lord burnt it, and now here it was.

She choked back her tears. “Why are you giving me this?”

“It’s yours,” Zuko replied. “You should have it.”

“No, I mean, what do you want in return?” This couldn’t just be a gift, not here in the Fire Nation, so far from home where everything came at a price none but the wealthy could pay. But she watched as Zuko frowned, pursing his lips together to choose the best words, and a tiny flutter of hope sparked in her chest.

“I saw how much it meant when the Fire Lord burned this, although before today – when you told me about why your people wear braids in your hair – I didn’t know exactly why,” he said eventually. “What happened was… It was not honourable. I know this won’t fix things, but… well… Giving it back felt like the right thing to do. You owe me nothing for it.”

“I… thank you.” She licked her lips, trying to work out what to say, because the least she could do now was be polite. “And… thank you for earlier, as well. For protecting me. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped in.”

They stood for a moment in silence, bashful rather than awkward, until Zuko finally remembered he was meant to be leaving. He bowed crisply, a smile tugging at his mouth, and turned to go.

“Lady Katara?” he asked, spinning on his heel again.

“Yes?”

“You already have an invitation to my mother’s garden party, but I was wondering… perhaps you wouldn’t object if I… if I escorted you?”

Katara glanced down at the bundle clutched against her chest. “I wouldn’t object,” she answered slowly.

“I… good.”

He climbed into the palanquin. She turned and stepped past her guards into the cool sanctuary of the mansion. The palanquin bearers tramped away. She was underneath the magnolias before she realised that she, too, was fighting back a smile.

#zutara #zuko #katara #zuko x katara #avatar: the last airbender #atla #my writing #story: the things we hide

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Cultural Fusion

AO3 | FFdotnet

Bumi and Kya have decided to combine their cultural heritages in the kitchen, and Aang is horrified at the results.

Written for Aang Week 2017. Prompt - Free Day.

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Aang, Sokka, Tenzin, Kya II, Bumi II, Katara, Toph Beifong, Lin Beifong, Suyin Beifong, Suki Additional Tags: Air Temple Island, Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender, Pre-Avatar: Legend of Korra, Family, Family Dinners, Humor

So this is my final entry for Aang Week, and I had a lot of fun! Thank you so much to everyone who was kind enough to like or reblog or reply to or tag my fics!!! This was a blast. :D

If you’re interested in more of my writing, feel free to check out my AO3 or follow me on this tumblr - I’m pretty much dedicated to ATLA, and I’m a semi-active writer.

Sokka leaned over the saddle as Appa began his descent towards Air Temple Island. “So what kind of plant-based dish can I expect for dinner?” he asked Aang, who was seated on Appa’s head. “Noodles? Soup?”

“The Acolytes were talking about curry,” Aang answered.

Sokka’s eyes lit up. “Please tell me it’s Xing Ying’s turn in the kitchen. She’s the best at spices.”

“It’s her Fire Nation side,” Aang laughed. “And yeah, it is.”

Sokka grinned. “Fantastic! What’s for dessert?”

Aang’s smile faltered. “I have...no idea.” He looked worried as Appa approached the landing point.

Sokka looked from Aang to Tenzin, who sat beside him in the saddle.

“It’s a surprise,” Tenzin explained. “Bumi and Kya are making it.”

“Oh!” said Sokka. “Alright then. I’m sure it’ll be great, whatever it is. Aang why does your face look like that?”

“I’m not sure that I trust Bumi and Kya in the kitchen.”

“What? Why not?”

“They think that stewed sea prunes are the pinnacle of Southern Water Tribe cuisine,” Aang said as Appa made his landing, sending puffs of air and dust billowing through the courtyard. He slid off of Appa’s head and patted the bison’s cheek. “I wish I could believe they only do it to mess with me, but...no. They actually like sea prunes.”

Sokka snorted as he slid off of Appa, Tenzin gliding down behind him. “Aang, I know your hatred for sea prunes is legendary, but I swear it really is an acquired taste. Bumi and Kya seem to have acquired it.”

“I never acquired it!” Aang said, airbending the saddle off of Appa and setting it to the side.

“I like sea prunes,” Tenzin said.

Aang put his face in his hands. “All my children have betrayed me.”

Sokka laughed and slung an arm around Aang’s shoulders. “Come on, whatever Kya and Bumi have cooked up, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Right Kya?” he added.

Aang looked up to see his daughter had run into the courtyard, wearing a wide, mischievous grin. “Well, I think it’s good. Tenzin!” she said, grabbing her startled brother’s arm. “We need your help in the kitchen! Dessert’s almost ready but we need you to add the finishing touch!”

“Why do you need me?” Tenzin yelped as Kya dragged him off toward the kitchen.

“Because the secret is in the gooey center!”

“There, see?” Sokka said, watching the kids run off. “Clearly it’s just some sort of fruit pie. Nothing to worry about.”

“I guess,” Aang hedged, because the look on Kya’s face had reminded him far too much of the look Sokka got when a plan was going well. He gave Appa another pat before the bison shuffled off towards the stables, and then he and Sokka made their way to the family’s dining room.

Katara was already there, drinking tea made by Suki and reading a letter written on red-bordered stationery out loud for Toph’s benefit. “...won’t be able to leave the Fire Nation anytime soon, but you’re all invited to Ember Island this summer…”

“How was the Council?” Suki asked as Aang and Sokka took their seats, immediately pouring out two more cups of tea.

“Uneventful,” Sokka answered, slurping down the tea.

“Is that from Zuko?” Aang asked, sitting down beside Katara and dropping a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Mai, actually,” Katara said. “Zuko didn’t have time to write and she was bored.”

“Sounds accurate,” Aang laughed. “How are they?”

“Nothing new to report, really,” Toph shrugged. “Izumi’s doing well at the Academy, but she wants to study abroad. I say we bring her here. Between her, Lin, and Kya, we could get a nice pro-bending team going.”

“Tempting,” Sokka hummed.

“Might I remind you that we’re all notable leaders and public figures and shouldn’t go scam-gambling on sports?” Katara asked dryly.

“Scambling!” Sokka and Toph shouted, grinning.

“Dinner’s ready!” Bumi announced, entering the dining room with a massive bowl of curry. Lin and Tenzin came behind him with the side dishes, and then Kya and Suyin with a beautiful fruit pie that was set off on a side table. Aang eyed it warily, but nothing seemed amiss - the purple, gooey center was perfectly aerated and swirled just as Aang had taught Tenzin to do it, and it looked like a perfectly ordinary fruit pie.

Dinner was a happy affair. Sokka happily chowed down on the curry while Katara ran over the updates Mai had written them about. Bumi managed to tell exactly one outlandish-but-probably-perfectly-accurate story about a recent training trip in the United Forces before Kya snorted and splashed him with water from his own cup. Tenzin and Lin had a perfectly civil conversation when Lin wasn’t snapping at Suyin to stop showing off her metalbending by warping her dinner knife. Toph and Suki brought up the invitation Mai had extended to them to visit Ember Island.

“I think we should try to convince the Ember Island Players to put on another showing of The Boy in the Iceberg,” Toph said. “Zuko’s the Firelord, I’m sure he could make it happen.”

“Zuko’s the Firelord, I’m sure they’d be terrified to portray him in that play ever again,” Suki countered with a grin. “But maybe it could happen…”

“I really prefer that play when it’s forgotten,” Katara said dryly.

“Aw, but Sweetness, the kids have never seen it! Would you really deprive them of this important piece of family history?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, but speaking of family history,” Bumi said, standing up. “Who’s ready for dessert?” He brought the pie over to the table.

“Me me me me me!” Suyin shouted, bouncing up and down in her seat.

“Su, calm down,” Lin ordered, scowling.

“What did you kids make for us?” Toph asked, slinging an arm around her youngest. Suyin fell silent, but she kept bouncing.

“It’s a labor of love,” Bumi said, “and also experimentation. Kya and I had a lot of fun trying to get the flavor balance right.”

“Special thanks to Tenzin for aerating the gooey center!” Kya added, picking up a knife. She paused and frowned at the twisted metal. “I need a knife Su hasn’t been at.”

“Su!” Lin groaned as her little sister laughed.

“Gimme,” Toph ordered, holding out a hand. A quick twist and the knife was straight again. “Now quit making me wait and slice that pie up!”

“You got it, Chief,” Kya said, cutting the pie into even slices that Bumi distributed to everyone else.

Aang stared at his plate suspiciously before spooning a bit of the pie into his mouth. The pastry portion was okay, but the filling - oh, no. “This pie tastes like the ocean,” Aang said, horrified. “Please don’t tell me there’s sea prunes in this.”

“Okay,” Bumi grinned, “I won’t tell you there’s sea prunes in this.”

“Oh my spirits.”

“Not bad!” Sokka said. Katara looked like she was enjoying it, as well. So did Toph, who didn’t mind sea prunes, but Lin was staring at her plate in consternation. Suyin had gone the route of just eating the pastry while leaving the filling untouched.

“We thought we’d combine the two sides of our heritage into one delicious dessert,” Bumi said. “What do you think, Dad?” He was still grinning. So was Kya.

“You are horrible children,” Aang said, staring miserably at his pie. “Horrible. Why would you put sea prunes in a pie? Why?”

“To see the look on your face,” Kya snickered. “Your face, Dad! I wish I had a camera!”

“Me too,” Aang sighed. “I need to document this as the moment my children betrayed my trust. At least I still have Tenzin.”

“It’s actually pretty good,” Tenzin said, having another bite of sea prune pie.

Aang gave his youngest a disappointed look. “Abandoned and betrayed by all my children. I can’t believe this.”

“You’re being melodramatic,” Katara snorted, and she pointed at the pie on his plate. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“All yours,” Aang said, handing his plate over.

“This is actually pretty ingenious,” Sokka said, scraping sea prune goop off his plate.

“Eh,” said Suki, “I’m actually with Aang on this. Sea prunes are okay for dinner, but they shouldn’t be in a dessert.”

“Thank you Suki, you’re the best sister-in-law ever.”

“Well for all of you who can’t recognize culinary genius when you taste it, don’t worry, we have a kumquat fruit pie as well,” Bumi said.

Aang gave his son a dull look. “Are they ocean kumquats? They’d better not be ocean kumquats.”

Bumi just grinned back. “You’ll have to eat it to find out!”

#aang week #avatar fanfiction #atla fanfic #my creations

[kdinthecity]

Confessions of a Teenage Sugar Queen: Going Out

This piece can be found on Ao3 and ff.net or by following the links below.

Chpt. 1 | Chpt. 2 | Chpt. 3 | Chpt. 4 | Chpt. 5 | Chpt. 6 | Chpt. 7 | Chpt. 8 | Chpt. 9

This discovery inspires me to get up off my ass and find out more information about Noriko—no, Ursa. I’m still hesitant to read Crashing Blue Spirit for fear of what it might reveal that I’m not ready to accept, but according to the author’s bio in the back, Professor Noriko has written several publications. So I will be making that trip to the university library after all.

Someone else had the same idea.

Zuko is tucked away in a nook of the library’s research section with a stack of books, the same ones I’m looking for, no doubt. He doesn’t acknowledge me, so now what? I should apologize. No, I should leave him alone. He should uncover the truth on his own. He doesn’t need me. It’s not like I’m a real investigator anyway, who was I kidding?

I only make it to the end of the aisle in my attempt at retreat.

“Katara?”

I don’t turn around when I speak. “I wasn’t following you. I was just—“

“I’m sorry,” he says softly—because that’s his usual demeanor, not because we’re in a library.

He has nothing to be sorry for, but he’s probably used to taking the blame. I know I should set things straight, but the shelves are narrowing, and the room is too confining.

I don’t understand what I’m feeling because this building is huge, but I need to get out. Now.

But then, the sun is too bright, and the wind has a bite. I want to run as far and long as I can, but I am so tired. I am trapped—spinning in circles, falling, crashing…

Right into Zuko.

When he catches me, I bury my forehead in the cleft of his shoulder and pound my fists on his chest. I am furious at myself for crying again because I vowed to stop this nonsense and actually do something constructive. Why is Zuko the one comforting me? His father abused him, his mother abandoned him, and I’m altogether useless to him.

He doesn’t say anything. He just holds me and rubs gentle circles on my back like he did the first time he gave me a ride home. Because he knew even then what I needed before I would allow myself to receive it. I pull away, overcome by a sudden wave of alarming clarity.

“Zuko, what do you need?” I may not have his gift of intuition, but I also never thought to ask.

He flashes the smallest of smiles. “I need you.”

That’s not the answer I expected. “But I’m too… needy.”

“It feels good to be needed,” he says with a shrug. “It’s like… what I do matters to you. It sounds stupid, but I’m not used to that. Having someone who cares.”

“I do care, Zuko. I care a lot.” About you is implied here, but maybe I should say it out loud. Because during my personal pity party earlier, I promised to be more upfront with him, too.

“I’m sorry I took off,” he continues. “I just... I thought that my mom would have…” He clinches his jaw and sighs dejectedly. “I thought I mattered to her. I thought she cared. I guess I was wrong.”

“We don’t know for sure. Maybe she stayed away to keep you safe.”

He points at his scar. “Yeah right. Safe.”

Tears well up again, and I realize this is why I’ve been crying so much lately. I’ve been craving safe. It’s something you’re supposed to feel around family, but I haven’t since Mom died. When I’m with Zuko, he grants me that sense of security I’ve been missing, but when I look at his face, I hardly feel it’s fair. The same man who hurt him so badly is hunting us now. Zuko has never felt safe. He probably never will.

Zuko interrupts my reverie by stroking my dampened cheeks and lightly kissing my forehead. “Can we go somewhere to talk? Like a tea shop.”

Funny. I didn’t know Zuko liked tea.

He’s not satisfied by the Yelp ratings for the tea shop near the NPU campus, so we hop on the bus to find “the best tea in town.”

“Only five stars will do,” he says with a smirk.

“You do know that tea is just hot leaf juice,” I tease.

His expression turns solemn. “Whatever you do, don’t ever say that in front of my uncle.”

“Why?”

“Because he really likes tea,” Zuko replies. “And… he really likes you. Don’t give him a reason not to.”

I straighten up in my seat and give a fake salute. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

He rolls his eyes and ACK! He tickles me! Right there on the bus! Oh boy, is he gonna get it now!

We become that touchy teenage couple that everyone finds annoying. We’re even getting disapproving looks from a group of older women sitting toward the front. I’m sorta lovin’ it. I mean, let the kids whose lives are in mortal danger actually have some fun, OK?

What I love even more is Zuko’s smile. It is so pure.

Hot damn, I think I’m falling for this man.

I literally go weak in the knees when we arrive at the tea shop. Zuko leans toward me and shows me the Yelp reviews on his phone.

“Only four stars for tea, actually. But five for the view. What do you think?”

I swallow a few times to release my tied-up tongue. “I’ll have jasmine, please.”

He quirks his brow. “Uhh, I’m sure they have that blend.”

He scans the scenery, and something familiar passes across his features. At the tide pools, I read it as distance. But this time, I see it as loss. The ocean is tied to his mother’s disappearance somehow. I figure he brought me here because he knew I would love it. But I also wonder if he’s looking for some reconciliation, too.

Tea is served with a side of awkward silence. Is this back-and-forth normal for all couples early in their relationship or are we just special because of our circumstances?

Are we even a couple?

That would be a good place to start. “So, umm, Zuko? What are we? You know… like… to each other?”

I expect Zuko to avoid the question, but he doesn’t at all. He reaches across the table and places his hands over mine. “Katara, I really like you. And if things were normal, I would ask you out. I wouldn’t even think twice.”

“If things were normal, I would say yes. But… they’re not normal, are they?”

“No. Someone in my family killed someone in yours. We can’t just ignore that. And if something happened to you, Katara, because of me…”

“Zuko, you didn’t kill my mom, and I don’t blame you for it. Your dad is seriously fucked up, and I want to help you take him down! Not just for what he did to my family, but what he did to yours, too. We’re in this together no matter what… as friends or… as something else… but I don’t think friends usually kiss and stuff, so…”

I am flush and rambling and would rather be kissing than talking. Why is Zuko looking at me like I’m crazy?

“You’re crazy, Katara.”

Oh.

“Let’s go to the beach,” he says suddenly.

Now who’s the crazy one?

The beach is nice, but it’s getting late, and we should head back before Dad and Sokka arrive.

Zuko has something else in mind, though.

“Can I read you a little from the Blue Spirit book?”

I’m taken aback by this suggestion, but I oblige. He leans against a rock, and I tuck myself under his arm, relishing his warmth. Alaskan summers are nice, as I recall, but coastal winds always carry the chill of the Pacific current.

“Your mom was amazing,” Zuko starts.

I let out a sigh of relief. I didn’t think the book would convey anything otherwise, but uncovering so many secrets in such a short amount of time has taken a toll on me.

“When her son was born in Alaska, among family members from their native tribe, everyone congratulated her on the birth of a fearless warrior. In California two years later, when she shared her pink bundle with mostly strangers, everyone congratulated her on the birth of a beautiful princess. Kya made two promises to her daughter that day. One, she would teach her the ways of their people. And two, she would teach her to fight.

It was likely no coincidence that at age three, the young girl’s favorite game was to adorn herself in tribal paint and play ‘warrior princess.’ It amused Kya, but her greatest hope for her daughter’s fiery passion was finding a cause worth fighting for.”

I place my hand on Zuko’s forearm, signaling for him to stop. “So, this is a biography… about my mom?”

“Yeah, it starts from her early career, when she covered the Valdez oil spill. As best I can tell from the Painted Lady files, that’s how our mothers met. My mom reached out because she wanted to write a story about her.”

“Oh. I thought it was because your mom knew about what your dad was doing and wanted my mom to investigate?” I muse.

“I think it was the other way around—your mom knew first about my dad then told my mom. Maybe something my mom said in one of their interviews for the biography prompted the investigation. But the report your mom compiled was dated the same day my mom went missing.”

“Do you think she left because your dad found out somehow?”

“I don’t know. He knew, though, because he sent someone to… take care of it.”

“Right. Yon Rha.” My inner warrior princess flares at the mentioning of Ozai’s hired henchman who killed my mother.

“I turned everything in to the police. Your mom’s files were very thorough. I even gave my own statement.” Zuko’s breath hitches. “I spoke out against my father. If this goes to trial, I’ll probably have to testify, I don’t know if I—“

He stops abruptly and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Even though I am reading over his shoulder, he dictates the text messages out loud.

“Noren says your dad and brother are at his house. And so is Uncle.”

“Not Noren,” I correct. “Ikem.”

#zutara #zutara week #zutara week 2017 #zkweek #zkweek17 #hs au

[zutaraverse]

Chapter 2: Katara Returns Dressed In Red

[[nb posting this one all in one go because it’s pretty important!! Sorry its so long in one bite :p ]]

——————2 years later———————

Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation collapsed, starfish style, onto his bed and promptly fell asleep still in his royal garments. He’d had delegations from various ex-colonies at the palace all week discussing the change of power from fire nation back to earth kingdom - or as it happened for about half of them, no change at all. Each person and come with their own set of demands which seemed to be uniquely designed to oppose the next person’s - and they all sought solutions from the Prince. Fire Lord Iroh was in the Northern Water Tribe discussing fishing boundaries and (Zuko suspected) playing multiple games of Pai Sho. So that left Zuko to step up and act as Fire Lord in his absence.

Now, at least, the delegations had all left, and Zuko had managed to stay awake through their farewell dinner. He was done! The next few months would be a breeze, comparatively speaking. But for now, sleep.

Three sharp knocks resounded through Zuko’s room and, rather painfully, through his head. He groaned, stretching his cramped muscles but didn’t get up.

Another three knocks, followed by a timid “Prince Zuko?”

“Go Away!” he shouted back, giving in to his childish reflexes. Why couldn’t they damn well leave him alone?

“Apologies Prince Zuko but you have a visitor…” Zuko could hear the hesitation in the messenger’s voice and immediately felt sorry for shouting. It wasn’t his fault after all.

“Who is the visitor?” He asked, barely lifting his face off the pillow, eyes still cobwebbed in deep sleep.

“I… I don’t know Sir, all she said was: ‘Tell him not to keep Sweetness waiting’. Should I tell her to leave?” Zuko sat up as a smile slowly lit up his face. He jumped off the bed - vaguely recognising that he was still wearing his clothes from the night before - and ripped the door open. The messenger didn’t realise what was happening and jumped back in shock at the disheveled Prince in crumpled clothes and messy hair that appeared in front of him.

“Run to the kitchens and get me two mangos. Then come back here and take me to her.” The messenger blinked at Zuko in surprise at the odd request. The Prince rolled his eyes. “NOW!” he barked. Was it possible that any time he wanted to get something done quickly he had to shout?

As the messenger scurried away Zuko retreated to his room and peeled off his formal clothes, changing into maroon casual baggy trousers and matching shirt, with a black sash tied around his waist. His hair… well… it would have to do.

There was another timid knock at the door, and Zuko opened the door, grabbed the two mangos from the messenger’s hands and ran off to the palace entrance, forgetting to wait for him to lead him.

He expected to find her seated in one of the waiting rooms surrounding the main Palace, but he checked all of them and found them completely empty. Confused he walked outside into the sun and saw five guards at the gates forming a human wall - and beyond them, Katara.

She was dressed in Fire Nation red, and looked much older than she had when she left two years before. She had lost weight and had a new determined set to her jawline. Her blue eyes were more guarded and icy than he remembered and her hair hung loose instead of that childish plait. She still had her hair loopies and her mother’s necklace though, which contrasted the otherwise dangerous looking woman that stood before him.

She was more beautiful than ever. And red looked really good on her, he thought.

Katara noticed him approaching the gate and squealed in delight.

“Sparky you brought mangos!!!!!” she cried, smiling from ear to ear and clapping her hands. Ah. There was the old Katara.

“A peace offering for keeping you waiting in the hot sun,” he replied, grinning as much as his scar would allow. The guards turned to look at him in shock and glanced at one another in confusion. “Guards, stand down. This is Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. She has free access to the Palace. Always. And for future reference, when people come to see me, take them to the waiting rooms, it is barbaric to have them waiting outside.”

The younger guards’ eyes widened - the legendary water bending master! But how was she so young?!  They scrambled to get out of the way as she passed them and smiled, a little too sweetly at them. The two who had been making inappropriate comments at her gulped audibly, keeping their eyes trained to the ground.

Katara walked to Zuko and hugged him tightly. He returned it as well as he could still clutching his mangos. When she pulled away he saw that she had tears in her eyes.

“It is good to be back. I’ve missed everybody so much!” she said, her voice breaking half way through.

“Its good to see you again. Finally a friendly face that isn’t threatening to bring down the Nation! Come, lets go get breakfast. Are you staying for a while?”

“Yes. If its not an issue of course..” Zuko smiled brilliantly.

“We might need to find some more mangos but apart from that, stay as long as you like. Oh Chan! Could you prepare the Personal Guest room please? And tell the kitchens to bring breakfast to my room.” The servant bobbed her head and scurried away to fulfil the Prince’s orders.

—————————

A while later, when they had both had time to wash and dress in casual clothes, they reconvened in Zuko’s chambers, sitting around a table laden with fruits, tea and breads.

“So tell me, Master, what did you find in your travels? Did you learn much about water bending? And blood bending? Did you find Hama?” He tried to keep his tone light, but underneath there burned a powerful curiosity. What on Earth kept her away for two years? It must mean she found something very important.

“I… yes I did. But its a long story… and actually has to do with why I’m here,” she said, fastidiously picking grapes from the bowl.

“I have time. Start from the beginning.”

“Well, I tracked down Hama. Obviously it didn’t take her long to escape from prison once again, and she had moved around and ended up in the Earth Kingdom. Thankfully she had shaken her obsession with locking people under mountains, but under a full moon she still toyed with people without them understanding what was happening. She didn’t hurt them though, so at least that.

She was incredibly happy to see me even though last time we met it ended with her being taken to jail. But I think it was the thought of somebody else sharing the bloodbending she had discovered. Anyway under the full moon she taught me all she knew - including some pretty harrowing descriptions of what she did to the guards when she first broke out of jail. Did you know most of the human body is water? And just like we can extract water from the air, from the grass, from the trees - you can do that to a person. It kills them instantly and reduces them to ash apparently. Or, you know, if you don’t feel like killing them you can always take all the water from their eyes - which apparently deflate and they go blind…”

She trailed off, taking a deep breath and pouring out some more tea.

“Hama had developed a bit of a taste for blood. But the more I learned, the more I started thinking that you didn’t need to use bloodbending for harm. You could heal. You saw what I could do with water - but the body wants to heal itself! If I could use somebody’s own blood to heal them, surely it would be more effective!”

“Did you manage to?” asked Zuko, leaning forward in fascination. Katara sighed.

“Will you let me show you? You shoulder is in pain, can I heal it for you?”

“How did you know my shoulder was in pain? Yes, yes of course…” Katara closed her eyes and Zuko felt the pain that he had been sporting in his right shoulder (in his opinion from writing too many reports) slowly fade, and in its place a pleasant warmth spread. He lifted his arm above his head with no issue.

“I have not been able to move it properly in weeks! How did you do that?”

“Well, soon after I started thinking about healing, a little girl’s leg got trampled on by an ostrich-horse. I tried healing her with water but that made her scream in pain and I just couldn’t make it right. So I tried to bloodbend. It was rudimentary compared to what I can do now, but it fixed her leg. You have to follow the flows of the blood and see where they are ruptured, then coax them to regain their usual path. Like your shoulder, you pulled something and that disrupted the flow of blood to that area, meaning it was dry and painful. By letting the blood back in I am basically speeding up the natural process.

I left Hama when I realised she couldn’t teach me anything more. Unlike her I can blood bend at any time of the day or night, whereas she was only powerful enough during the full moon. I surpassed her quickly and moved on. I think she plans to return to the Water Tribe at some point even though her old brain is addled and confused.

I travelled North to the Northern Water Tribe. I knew they had a library of sorts about healing and wanted to look into it to see if there are any references to what you can do with blood. Of course I couldn’t tell them what I wanted to do, I simply said I wanted to become a better healer. I studied a lot and learned about all the flows of the body - about the main bloodways and the minor ones, about how to calm an ulcer and to combat frostbite. I applied everything to bloodbending and I was immediately more successful and more powerful than any of the other healers. I was considering teaching them - and I might still go back and do that -, but then my father arrived.

Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe was on a formal visit to the North and was pretty shocked to find me there. He was acting strangely, but I was too absorbed in what I was learning to pay much attention to what was going on politically. After one of their meetings, he came to me and told me that they had finally reached an agreement and that I would be betrothed to one of the Northern Tribe men.”

Zuko snorted.

“That must have been a fun conversation!”

“You would have enjoyed it I think. I had to inform dear father than I was a Southern Water Tribe girl and that it meant that I could choose whoever I wanted to marry. And that, under no circumstance was I going to marry into a culture that did not train women in combat, that would not respect what I wanted as equal to what my husband wanted! I told him he could forget it immediately. Nobody took that too well.

They forced me to go to a meet.

Which was very frustrating because I was learning about the heart - which is incredibly interesting by the way - and I had to talk to this council of old men who knew nothing about me. It was only when I reminded them rather… forcefully… that I was a master water bender, capable of taking out their entire army and that I would not hesitate to bring down the hall we stood in to prove my point.”

Zuko laughed at Katara’s dark expression.

“I mean come on! We ended a hundred year war, I’m the youngest and strongest water bender in both the tribes, I helped rebuild and negotiate peace, I trained the bloody avatar! And now that I’m definitely not going to marry Aang, they seem to think I’m fair game to decide my future. It is not happening. You would have thought they would have taken the hint when I forced Master Pakku to teach me, but no, apparently not.

Anyway, after that argument they pretty much left me alone and I absorbed all that I could from the information there. I think healing is much easier once you understand blood - I didn’t need to memorise all the things the other students were learning - I can just feel it.

Then I found out that they had a whole other section dedicated to combat water bending. Of course, since I was accidentally born a girl they wouldn’t let me in. Idiots. So I snuck in anyway and read to my hearts content every night. And it was actually fascinating - they have no idea what goldmine they are sitting on! There were all the old water bending fighting styles, as well as so much on meditation that I was never taught. The fighting won’t do much good now apart from if you want to surprise somebody with something outdated, but you can take the same techniques and apply them to blood.

There is this one where you create a square of water and you sort of shoot it at somebody, the idea being that they get hit straight in the face so it stings and they have trouble seeing for a while. But the way in which you do it makes it so that from rest the movement is very quick - kind of like some of your fire bending moves. It basically sends a shock. But what if you can do that with blood? What if, when a heart stops, you can shock it into coming back by shooting the blood through it quickly? Or there is this other one where you take the water from the air and you basically make it implode to one point - it makes a noise, so it is only used as a distraction. But muscles are soaked in blood and what if you can contract a muscle like the heart to keep it working?

I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“A bit, but it is interesting. Did you get to try any of this out?”

“Yes. I left the Water Tribe and travelled back into the Earth Kingdom. I volunteered in hospitals as a water healer - but used blood instead. I learned how to remove disease, how to coax out poison, how to not only redirect but build bloodways. I gave a child a functioning leg that had been lame since birth. Zuko, it was incredible!

Except people started noticing how much better than the normal healers I was and started asking questions. Mostly I diverted them, but it made me uneasy so I moved on.

I decided that it was not possible that only Hama and I could blood bend. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became. So I spent a long time each day in meditation like the scrolls from the North had described, and my control grew. At the same time I travelled to all the sites of ancient knowledge that I could possibly think of…”

“Even the Air Temples?”

Katara looked down with sad eyes.

“No. Not the Air Temples. They don’t contain anything but air bending and meditation information - and most of it was burned. And I was scared of bumping into Aang.”

There was a moment of silence while they both considered the day the avatar had run away from them all. Zuko had seen him since, but he had kept a stolid silence with Katara - not even answering her messenger hawks.

“Well, you were in the Earth Kingdom looking for these records…”

“Yes. Except there were none. In Ba Sing Se and Omashu I found some really interesting things but only referring to water bending, and water meditation. I’m still at a loss as to why the Water Tribes don’t practice meditation anymore, it brings almost Toph levels of awareness of the world. But the rest were destroyed during the war.

So I was angry. As angry as sixteen-year-old-Zuko!”

“Hah! That is quite angry…”

“Yes, well I had good reason! I felt like ripping my hair out - there must be something, somewhere about bloodbending! And as I thought, I realised the only place likely to have anything would be Wan Xi Tong’s library - but that is gone La knows where.

Eventually I decided that, although I didn’t think there would be anything about water bending in general in the Fire Nation, I might as well look. After all, if there ever was something it would probably still be there - why would you destroy your own knowledge?

Most of the temples and libraries held nothing. Which, by the way, you might want to do something about - at least something updated, something recounting the final part of the war… There was a lot on Sozin but not much after that. Anyhow, I came across one Fire Temple, which apparently was one of the oldest. It was a pain to get to, on Ka’Bei Island. There is nothing else there apart from the temple and the sages who are crazy enough to live there - no wonder it hasn’t been touched in centuries!

It is stunning though. In a very derelict way, eaten by the salt of the sea and looking all too fragile in the wind. But they assured me it was safe inside. Thankfully the sages took kindly to me - some of them had not been off the island since Ozai took power, and others had retreated there to escape the war. They were buried in meditations and exercises and seemed completely at peace. They invited me to stay as long as I pleased - knowledge is important and it is the least they could do to freely impart it when fire had caused the destruction of so much, they said.

For the first month I lost myself in a myriad of things, deciding to meditate with the sages at sunrise, feeling the tides of the sea pull me with them.

Then I came across a book that was completely unintelligible. Some of the others were old and the language was different to our own but not incomprehensible - just took some getting used to. This though, I understood nothing. It looked like a bunch of scribbles!

I asked the sages and they told me that it was an ancient tongue - they had yet to find out when it was used, but it grew in isolation at the poles of the world before the time of the first Avatar.

It took me another month to translate, using some of the references contained in other scrolls. They told me that this was not the original - the original resided in Wan Xi Tong’s library and this was a copy that was made at the time when humans could freely pass the threshold. I have the whole translation here,” she said, opening the bag she had on the floor and taking out a nondescript and quite worn black booklet.

“It talks about all the bending styles, but mostly about water bending. These were my ancestors Zuko! I don’t know how they developed bending - here it says that they learned from meditating and being at one with the ocean and the dolphins. But I don’t know how true that is. I can’t create a picture in my mind of how the world must have been back then and I cannot understand if this was before or during the reign of the lion-turtle cities. Regardless, they could bend.

The whole text was written almost poetically. But I figured out what they were referring to. Blood is never called blood, but is called ‘inner tide’. There were so many things you could do with your inner tide, and I spent a long time in meditation - except looking into myself instead of looking outwards. I found issues I didn’t even know I had and smoothed them out. I let myself flow in my own bloodways for a while…

But then I came across a long passage about the ‘inner moon’ and about how the ‘inner tide’ and the ‘inner moon’ reflect the true tide and moon. It took me a long time to understand that the ‘inner moon’ is your chi. So it was suggesting that your chi controlled your blood. But that made no sense! I started looking for chi in myself and the sages and I realised that if I did think of it like the moon and if I looked for that glimmer of brightness in the darkness of blood, I could find it. I could not find how it controlled the blood though.

Then it struck me. It was a reflection of the original!”

“I don’t get it.”

“If I hold up my right hand, looking into a mirror, what happens?”

“Your reflection holds up their left hand?”

“Exactly! The reflection means the inverse. So whereas normally the moon controls the tides, here the ‘inner tides’ control the ‘inner moon’. Blood controls your chi. And each type of person has a different chi flow - or ‘moon orbit’ as they put it. Fire benders, water benders, earth benders, air benders, non benders - they all have different chi flow. And it is that flow that determines what type of bender you are.”

“So?”

“So, I can control blood. Blood controls chi. I can control chi and I can alter its flow so it does more than just one type of orbit… and… well…”

Katara held out her hand, palm up, and produced a flame.

#blood chi and full moons #worldcrawler #zutara #fanfic #fanfiction #zuko #katara #atla #avatar the last airbender