Child of the Stars

by them_fatale_11

Summary:

When Aang fails to defeat Ozai and falls in battle, his friends and allies are forced into hiding. The resistance gathers at the Northern Air Temple, and the war becomes a deadly contest of guerrilla warfare and knives in the dark. And all the while, they search for the next Avatar as their only real hope for success against the increasing power of the Fire Nation.

And then Zuko and Katara’s daughter is revealed to be the Avatar.

OR

A bunch of kids wrecked by war grow up and then raise a new Avatar.

OR

"She’s just a child!"
"So were we!"
"Yeah, and look how well that worked out for us."

Notes:

Hey humans this is hands down the most complex and ambitious fic I’ve ever plotted out and I hope y’all end up loving it as much as I do. It’s pretty well plotted so I should be able to keep to a schedule!

For Reasons, let’s imagine everyone starts this story a touch older than their canon ages, k? Like the Gaang’s ages probably range from 18 to 22 or thereabouts.

Title comes from the song of the same name by Fish in a Birdcage (the techno/pop band with a cello you didn’t know you needed in your life.)

The first arc of this story gives us the aftermath of a Sozin’s Comet battle that goes…just…all the way wrong.

Let’s go.

Chapter 1: Book 1 - Part 1

Day 1

 

Zuko sat bolt upright in bed. His wound, the mark Azula had left on his torso with her lightning, blazed with pain at the sudden movement.

Katara lay next to him, in an exhausted doze on top of the blankets, worn out from the healing work she’d done to stabilize him. Despite her best efforts -and she had done absolutely everything she could- it throbbed with an aching heat.

It was sunset. The eerie darkness of Sozin’s comet had passed, the sky returning to its usual blue. But now the sky was stained orange again as the sun fell into the west.

Zuko couldn’t explain it, but something was wrong.

He swung his legs out of bed, forcing down the cry of pain that fought its way out of his throat. His hand flew to his bandaged chest.

At his movement, Katara woke up.

"Zuko!" She said, jumping up and reaching for him, "what are you doing?! You need to rest!"

The commotion started a minute later, deep within the palace. A riot of noise that sent a spike of terror running through Zuko.

"We have to go," he said, pushing himself to his feet with a grimace.

"What?" Katara rose too, looking confused.

Zuko grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, "We have to go. Now. Hurry."

She reached for him, "Zuko…"

He took her face in his hands and kissed her.

"Trust me," he said. "Please. We need to go. Now."

Katara, confusion still in her eyes, nodded. She gathered her things. Zuko grabbed his as well. He twisted a little too fast and spent a long minute bent almost double over the bedside table, waiting for the stab of pain to pass.

Katara came up beside him and pulled his arm over her shoulders, her other arm circling his waist.

Elsewhere in the palace, the dangerous noise only grew. Sounds that were unmistakable to Zuko: the sound of his father taking out his anger on anything and anyone who happened to be in his path.

Aang had failed. Ozai was alive. And he was coming for them.

 

———————

 

3 days earlier

 

Aang pulled up his glider and landed lightly on the windowsill of Katara’s room. It was pretty late, but Katara was often awake long into the night. And Aang really needed to talk to someone.

Katara had been avoiding him ever since their night at the Ember Island Players. He felt kind of bad about what he’d said to her on the balcony that night. He shouldn’t have been so pushy with her.

He still wanted to be with her, of course. It was Katara. They were meant to be together. He knew it. Why else would she have been the one to find him when he was frozen in an iceberg? She was his forever girl.

But he didn’t even need to talk about that right now if she didn’t want to. He just needed to talk. He was so worried about Sozin’s Comet and his impending confrontation with the Fire Lord. He knew he needed to defeat Ozai to end the war. But if he couldn’t do it without killing him…Aang wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Katara would know what to say. Katara always knew exactly what to say.

But that night her room was dark, and her bed was empty.

“Katara?” He called, jumping into the room and landing on the rug.

She wasn’t there. Her bed didn’t even look like she’d been in it yet. The door to the room was just slightly ajar. Like she’d gone out for a late night stroll on the eve of the biggest fight of their lives.

“Katara?” He ventured again, tiptoeing airbender-light toward the door, and the hall beyond it.

The whole house was dark and quiet. The others had all gone to bed ages ago. No lights burned, and the only sound was the soft rush of the waves.

What if something had happened to her? What if she needed his help?

He crept frantically through the house, searching for her. And that was when he heard the soft voices coming from the second floor. He rushed down the hall, leaping into the air and landing in front of the open doorway…

…and he halted just in time, because Katara wasn’t alone.

They sat with their backs to him, sitting on the floor, legs dangling out over the edge of the hole in the wall that Aang had thrown Zuko out of just a day ago. The figure on the left was Katara.

The other was Zuko.

Katara’s hand rested on the floor between them. Zuko’s hand was on top of hers.

“It’ll be ok,” Zuko’s voice came, low and husky in the half light.

“How do you know?” Katara asked.

“Because it has to be,” Zuko said. “If my father gets what he wants…I don’t know if I want to see that world.”

Katara leaned over so her head rested against Zuko’s shoulder.

“We won’t let it happen that way,” she said, soft determination in her voice.

Zuko heaved a heavy sigh. Then he turned and pressed his lips to the top of Katara’s head.

Aang’s heart decided to relocate somewhere near his knees.

“Do you think he has it in him?” Zuko asked.

“Aang?” Katara asked.

“Yeah.”

“…I don’t know.”

Aang recoiled like he’d been struck. Katara… She thought he couldn’t defeat the Fire Lord? After everything, is that what she really thought of him?

Zuko put a gentle hand under Katara’s chin, lifting her head from his shoulder.

“Whatever happens,” he said, “we’re a team. You and me. Even if…”

He trailed off. Something wordless passed between them. Something that Aang could only guess at, but that they understood without even having to speak. They tipped towards each other until their foreheads were touching, drawn into each other like gravity.

“Promise?” Katara asked.

“Promise.”

Zuko kissed her.

And she kissed him back.

Katara’s hand reached toward Zuko, her fingers threading through his hair. She melted against him with all the ease and comfort of deep, trusting intimacy.

It was everything Aang had ever wanted from her. And she was giving it to Zuko.

His chest hurt. He didn’t want to see this anymore. He shouldn’t be watching this at all.

He couldn’t look away.

But Aang wrenched himself away from the door. He slumped against the wall with his hands on his knees.

…He’d been right the first time. The impulse he’d had when he’d first woken up on a captured fire navy ship after Ba Sing Se fell, the one that Katara had talked him out of, was correct.

He was going to have to do this on his own.

Aang fled Ember Island and did not look back.

 

———————

 

Appa was gone.

Zuko had led the way through the palace, sneaking through all the secluded half-used hallways to the courtyard where they’d housed the flying bison. They hadn’t encountered any danger yet, but even the short walk had left Zuko exhausted, his chest burning with pain and his breaths coming hard and ragged.

And Appa -their escape, their way out of the palace- was gone.

“Where could he have gone?” Katara asked, breathless, already scanning the skies.

“I don’t…know…” Zuko said, between heavy breaths. “But we don’t…have time…”

It was miraculous that they’d made it this far without being spotted and detained. How on earth were they going to get away now without being caught? Without Appa to carry them safely away from Father and the palace…?

“Come on,” he said, pulling himself away from her and leading them back the way they’d come.

His knees buckled almost immediately.

“Zuko!”

Katara hauled him back to his feet. The pain deep in his chest was like something out of a nightmare. But his father’s anger was something out of Zuko’s nightmares too. And he had a hunch about which one of the two would be survivable.

“Which way?” Katara asked, taking most of his weight against her shoulder.

“Back to the hall,” he gasped, teeth clenched tight, “then left.”

They staggered back into the palace, Katara following Zuko’s muttered directions, weaving back into the depths of the twisting halls.

“Hey! Stop!”

A troop of guards appeared in the hall behind them.

“Go!” Zuko shouted, pitching himself forward, dragging Katara with him.

“Halt! In the name of the Phoenix King!”

They were almost there.

“Third door on the left!” Zuko shouted.

He scrambled for the knob and threw his shoulder against the door. It flew open. Zuko took two stumbling steps and fell. Katara slammed the door shut, locking it, and reached for him.

Zuko picked himself up, growling against the pain, “I’m fine. Block the door.”

She did, grabbing a nearby chair and bracing it under the door handle just as the soldiers on the other side began pounding on it. Bursts of flame followed, making the door shudder and sending sparks through the cracks.

They were in an old, disused study. If Zuko remembered right, there was a door to the tunnels beneath the palace somewhere in this room.

“Zuko…” Katara called to him anxiously.

The heavy door began to glow in places, like it was made of embers, as the firebenders outside pummeled it. Katara wrapped her bending water around her arms, ready to fight.

Zuko just had to find the right place on the wall…

Staggering deeper into the room, one hand pressed firmly to his burning, bandaged chest, Zuko yanked the framed artworks down from the far wall.

“Zuko!” She called again, panic rising in her voice.

Zuko snarled and pulled the last piece of art down from the wall near the fireplace.

There.

A metallic lever was set into the wall. Zuko threw all his weight at it.

With a series of grinding, mechanical clicks, a panel in the floor slid back, exposing a dark staircase. Zuko summoned a flame in his hand and held the other out to Katara.

She ran to him, pulling his arm back over her shoulders. They stumbled down the staircase into the darkness as the door finally exploded inward with a wave of heat that Zuko felt on the back of his neck.

There was a matching lever at the base of the stairs. Zuko reached for it, grimacing. Katara got there first, shoving it upwards. Then she doused it with water, freezing it to ice, locking it in place. There was an awful grinding noise as the men above tried to throw the lever again, but the frozen mechanism held.

“It won’t last,” she said.

The heat in the tunnels was thick and intense. Ice would melt fast.

“Good enough,” Zuko gasped. “Let’s go.”

Lit by the flame in Zuko’s hand, the tunnels took on an eerie, flickering cast. It was a maze down here, but Zuko knew the way. They just had to get to the edge of the palace complex before their pursuers caught up with them.

If only he could get a full breath without feeling like there was a dagger in his chest. He tripped over his own feet and the flame in his hand sputtered.

Katara’s hands tightened around him.

They staggered onward. Even keeping his head up was getting difficult. They paused at every intersection for Zuko to get his bearings. Every time, it took an extra moment for him to puzzle out where they were.

His limbs felt heavy. He couldn’t breathe.

Then the sound of heavy, booted footfalls began to echo off the walls. Katara cursed. Zuko gritted his teeth, growled, and forced himself to move faster. He stumbled over his steps. Katara was practically dragging him.

They couldn’t get caught. Not now. Not when they were so nearly free. Not when being caught meant facing his father. With everything Zuko had done since the Day of the Black Sun, and with Katara at his side, they would be lucky if all he did was kill them.

The noise of their pursuers was right at their heels.

Zuko spun free of Katara’s grasp. He parted the wave of fire the first attacker threw at them. It billowed around them harmlessly. Zuko threw a punch, the resulting flame making the guards at their back scatter.

And he collapsed, the cry of pain tearing from him unbidden.

Katara leapt. She barely had any water left in her flask, but she wielded it through the air like a knife, slashing at the guards faster than his dulled mind could track. There were three of them, and she dropped them all. None of them rose.

Zuko couldn’t get up. He tried again and folded back to the ground with a wrenching groan.

Only one of them was going to make it out of here, and it wasn’t going to be him. He’d already made it though more of this day than he’d expected to.

“Get…out of here,” he gasped between gritted teeth. “Two lefts…one right…and you’ll be…out of the palace.”

“Shut up,” she snapped.

She dragged him upright, bracing her shoulder under his. He cried out.

“You already gave yourself up for me once today,” she growled. “I’m not letting you do it again.”

“Katara…” he protested.

“Zuko!” She snapped his name like a reprimand. “I’m not leaving you! Two lefts and one right, yeah?”

She staggered a few uneasy steps. He took as much of his weight back onto his own feet as he could manage.

“Two lefts,” he gasped. “One right…”

That was the last thing he would remember clearly.

 

————————

 

They fled into the darkest corners of the city. Guided by an instinct Katara hadn’t quite realized she possessed, she led the way deep into Caldera’s underbelly.

Zuko’s weight was heavy on her shoulders. Thankfully, he was still on his feet. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to carry him if he collapsed completely. But his steps were unsteady and his head hung low.

She readjusted her grip on his waist and kept moving.

They had to get off the street. Somewhere where they couldn’t be spotted easily. Somewhere where Zuko could sleep.

In the twilight, every shadow looked threatening. The few people who moved on the streets in this seedy part of town did so furtively, darting from shadow to shadow. Katara kept to the shadows herself as the city turned into a slum.

Finally, she spotted a small structure that appeared to be abandoned. “Structure” was a generous term for the hovel in front of her, a half-collapsed assortment of crumbling brick and fractured wood, but it was empty, and it had a roof. She steered Zuko inside.

The moment they crossed the treshold, Zuko’s knees buckled, like he’d been holding on until they reached safety and had used every scrap of his strength. Katara went down with him, landing in a heap on the dirt floor. She picked herself up and gently turned him onto his back.

The front of his shirt was stained with blood. His breathing was strained and he fought to keep his eyes open.

“It’s ok,” she told him, putting a hand on his cheek, “it’s ok. Rest. We’re safe.”

He shut his eyes, relaxing into her touch, and was asleep or unconscious in moments.

She turned to his wound. It had reopened as they fled, blood seeping through the bandages. She removed the bandages, coated her hands in water, and set to work healing him again, coaxing the blood to clot, the skin to seal.

When she finally lifted her hands, Katara was exhausted. So much healing in one day, coaxing and focusing the natural strength of the chi in Zuko’s body to where it was most needed, left her fatigued beyond belief. She sagged forward. She took several deep breaths. She swayed.

And she too fell to the floor. She collapsed next to Zuko. Her arms shook as she tried to pick herself back up, and she folded against him again. There was nothing for it. Even if someone came for them, neither one of them had the strength to fight back.

She tucked her head into the crook of Zuko’s shoulder and fell immediately into a dreamless sleep.

 

.

Chapter 2: Book 1 - Part 2

Day 2

 

Katara awoke with a start as something struck her.

She was all the way on her feet almost before she was conscious of moving, looking for an attacker, certain they’d been found.

There was no one. The hovel was empty except for her and Zuko. It was barely dawn.

And Zuko, at her feet, moaned, his body twisting.

She dropped to her knees at his side. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were pinched shut and his face dripped with sweat. She ran a hand over his forehead. He was burning with fever.

“No…” she said under her breath, one hand on his face and the other on his chest as he writhed, trying to steady him.

No, she’d taken care of his wound. This should not be happening!

She unwrapped his bandages. The skin around his wound was an angry, ugly red.

“No!” She shouted.

She’d missed something. Some bit of infection that she hadn’t found. Something that was already taking hold.

Katara coated her hand in water and bent over him. Infection killed much more effectively than wounds did on their own. How had she missed something so vital?

She closed her eyes and tried to find the source. She struggled, trying to hold him steady as he thrashed under her hands, delirious with fever. It was just such a deep wound, the damage radiating from the center of his chest like the rings of a spider's web, tearing through blood, muscle, sinew, organs, without preference or remorse. Aang’s lightning wound had been the same. And this time, she didn’t have the water from the spirit oasis at the North Pole.

Her eyes filled with tears that she forced away.

She worked over every inch of his wound. Every single edge of it that she could feel. And when she thought she’d gotten it all, she did it again.

She was sweating nearly as badly as he was by the time she finally sat back on her heels. She felt at his face again. The heat still raged under his skin but at least he’d stilled. Resting.

Katara dampened a cloth and placed it against his forehead. There was little else her bending could do here. She would just have to wait. To hope that his fever would break. That he would wake up.

He did wake, once. Briefly. His skin flushed and his eyes glassy and unfocused. He didn’t seem to know where he was or what was happening. He called her by a name that wasn’t hers.

She got him to drink a little, and pressed cool, water-wrapped hands to his face until he drifted to sleep again.

Katara thought longingly of the items they’d left behind. They’d prepared for the possibility that they’d have to flee the palace, but with Appa gone and Zuko’s injury to tend to, they’d had to leave a lot behind. The sleeping mats and blankets were the sharpest loss.

What did they have? A few days worth of food. Two water flasks, half empty now that she’d used so much soothing Zuko’s fever. A set of wooden cups and bowls apiece. A burn salve and a few rolls of bandages that she’d had the presence of mind to grab back at the palace. Zuko’s swords. The clothes on their backs. A truly pitiful amount of money.

They’d packed for a few days of hiding out in the wilds with Appa. Not for trying to shelter in a hostile city.

She hoped Appa was somewhere safe. And if the bison returned to the White Lotus, or to their friends, alone, maybe someone would come for them.

She picked up their coin purse. There were a lot of things that they could do without, but Zuko needed to be able to rest comfortably if he was going to recover. He couldn’t do that on a bare dirt floor.

Zuko was sleeping quietly. She hated the thought of leaving him alone, but what choice did she have. Choking back tears, Katara crept out into the streets in search of supplies.

The first market she found dashed her hopes to bits. There was so much they needed. Blankets. Food, and a reliable way to cook it. A change of clothes so she wasn’t in her water tribe blues. Searching the shops and market stalls, Katara realized she had the coins for maybe half of the things they needed.

Was there anything that she could sell? Did they have anything they didn’t need that she could turn into money for essentials? Zuko’s swords? Too important to keeping them safe, and she would never sell them without his permission. Her mother’s necklace? She would rather die than lose it again.

As she paced the market, trying to come up with a plan, she passed a shop with elegantly crafted wigs on display in the window. The shop looked dingy, dust at the corners of the windowpanes and coating the merchandise, but the door was open and there was a light on inside. Katara went in.

The shopkeeper behind the counter, a wiry woman with equally wiry black hair looked up from the wig she was knotting as Katara came in.

“No, child, I’m not buying hair today,” she said, immediately turning back to her work. “On your way.”

She muttered something under her breath, and Katara caught the words “desperate” and “whores”.

Katara folded her arms over her chest, “How do you know what I came in here for?”

“Hair like that?” The woman replied, not looking up, “criminal to put it under a wig. You’re not buying. You’re selling.”

Katara yanked the tie off the end of her braid and shook her locks loose, showing the woman the full, lush thickness of her hair.

And the woman eyed her with sudden interest.

“Well then…” she said, setting down her tools and coming around the counter.

Katara cringed as the woman ran her hands through her long tresses, assessing her hair as if it were little more than dry goods.

“Good length,” the woman said. “And so smooth and full. Such a…unique texture.”

Katara gritted her teeth, “well?”

“For the lot?”

She quoted a price that was less than half what Katara was hoping for.

Katara spun on her heel and stormed out of the shop, her stunning but apparently worthless hair fanning behind her.

There were soldiers in the street.

She stifled a gasp and quickly ducked into an alley, hiding herself in the shadows. Her hands, hovering over her water flask, shook. A sudden, clawing feeling spread through her chest as she found herself picturing three other fire nation soldiers, dead on the floor of the tunnels beneath the palace.

She couldn’t breathe.

Katara wasn’t naive. She knew that there had probably been soldiers before yesterday that had lost their lives as a result of her bending. But that didn’t mean she’d been ready to watch as blood welled from necks and chests and joints in armor plating, men crying out or trying to crawl away or making awful choking sounds as their eyes went glassy and vacant…

She squeezed her eyes shut tight and pressed her hands against them.

When she lifted her head, the soldiers were gone. But she saw a crowd of people gathering around the notice board where the soldiers had been standing just a minute ago. She peered out into the street, trying to make out what they were all studying so intently.

Wanted posters. With huge rewards.

With drawings of her and Zuko.

Katara leaned back against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting in the dirt. She dropped her face into her hands again.

She and Zuko were fugitives in the fire nation capital with massive bounties on their heads. They barely had what they needed to survive. Zuko was asleep and feverish back in an abandoned hovel and he didn’t even have a proper blanket.

She took several heaving breaths, trying to quiet the panic in her chest. Then she steeled herself. She set her teeth and picked up her head.

Katara tied her hair back in two tight braids. She pulled her bending water from its flask and tightened it into a razor sharp blade of ice.

She cut both braids from her head.

 

—————————

 

Four days earlier

 

Zuko’s hands were in her hair. One cradled the back of her head, tangling in her long tresses, the other brushing stray locks behind her ear.

His mouth was on hers. His tongue slipping past her lips.

Her hand splayed across his chest. He withdrew from her, catching his breath, and Katara took that opportunity to press him onto his back. He yielded to her touch, laying back on the bare wooden floor. She left one hand on his chest, the other coming up to palm his cheek as she pressed her lips to his again.

Just moments ago they’d been talking about the Fire Lord, and the battle that awaited them on the morrow. With that much hanging over their heads, they had nothing to lose tonight.

Zuko’s hands were still in her hair. His fingers knotted there and he tugged. She lifted her chin, gasping, and his lips found her exposed throat.

She liked it, when he tugged on it like that. When he took control of her in these small ways. She’d never thought she’d be that kind of girl. Never once thought that she would ache with pleasure at the thought of surrender. Maybe it was because she finally had someone she trusted so completely. A trust she’d made him work for. A trust he’d earned, completely and entirely.

His lips on her skin made her body come alive. She bit her lip and ground her hips into his. He gave a soft groan.

“We should go to my room,” he breathed, his lips brushing her neck, just below her ear.

“Mine’s closer…”

 

—————————

 

Day 5

 

When Zuko awoke again his head finally felt clear. His wound still throbbed and ached, but it wasn’t the same hot, crawling pain as before. He felt parched, like he could drink an entire lake dry.

There was a blanket tucked around his chest that he didn’t recognize. Another one rolled beneath his head that hadn't been there before.

And Katara was sitting against the wall, her head down on her knees, sobbing.

Zuko sat up. Slowly. It still hurt.

“Katara?” He said.

She picked up her head. Her face was wet with tears and her eyes were red and… Her hair. It was shorn off raggedly and barely reached her chin.

“Katara,” he said again, reaching an arm out to her.

She scrambled over to him. He wrapped an arm around her as best he could.

“You’re awake,” she said into his shoulder, “you’re ok.”

He felt exhausted. Wrung dry. His wound burned with every move. But he was ok. She had made him ok.

His hand rested on the back of her head, fingers combing through the ragged ends of her cropped hair.

“What happened?” He asked.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” she gasped. “You wouldn’t wake up. And when you did you weren’t really here. I thought…”

Zuko held her tighter, even though it made his wound stab with pain. For a long moment she just held him, her fingers digging into his back.

“How long was I…?”

“Four days,” she said.

Four days. She’d been taking care of him, alone, for four days.

“There are posters already,” she said. “Wanted posters. Of us. We’re going to have to hide here. Until you’re… until you’re better. Until you can move again.”

He took in their shelter for the first time. The dilapidated walls that surrounded them. He only vaguely remembered arriving at it. The rest of his memory was a hazy blur.

Katara’s arms tightened around his shoulders.

“I’m going to take care of you,” she said. “We’re going to be fine. We’ll be…”

She trailed off as her sobs began again.

“Zuko I’m so scared,” she said. “I’m so scared. I’m so sorry.”

His own tears began to fall. It sunk in for the first time since fleeing the palace that they had lost. They’d defeated Azula, but for what? His father was still alive. He’d returned to the palace in a rage. Aang had failed. Was there even a chance that Aang had survived? And who knew what had happened to their friends. To Sokka and Suki and Toph. To Uncle. And he and Katara were fugitives, and trapped.

He tried to shift, to hold her closer, but his wound flared with pain and, despite himself, he gave a low cry. Katara pulled back from him. The pain made him dizzy, and Katara’s soft hands eased him back onto his makeshift bed.

“Rest,” she said, her voice still thick with tears, “I’ve got you.”

He reached for her hand, holding it tightly.

“Katara,” he breathed her name. “I love you so much.”

“That’s the fever talking.”

But he wasn’t feverish anymore. His mind felt clear. Pained, but coherent for the first time in days.

“I love you,” he said again, his grip tightening on her hand.

She looked down at him, a soft, sad smile on her face and tears still in her eyes. She bent down and placed a gentle kiss against his lips.

“I love you too you idiot,” she said.

And she wrapped her hands in water and got to work.

 

 

.

Chapter 3: Book 1 - Part 3

Day 44

 

Almost as soon as Zuko began to feel like himself again, Katara got sick.

She had been exhausted for days, but neither of them had thought it unusual. They were both burnt out, fraying at the edges from the stress of scraping for survival without being recognized and turned in for ransom. Of trying to find a way out of this Agniforsaken city and failing at every turn.

At least Zuko could finally move comfortably again. His wound only bothered him if he moved particularly fast or tried to lift something too heavy. That meant he could finally, finally help.

And then Katara woke one morning absolutely wracked with exhaustion. She couldn’t eat, complaining of her stomach. He encouraged her to try, but what she managed to take in didn’t stay down.

Katara curled back up on their bedroll, knees tucked tightly into her chest. Their bed these days was a straw-stuffed casing they’d lucked into a few weeks back. It was thin and itchy and honestly pretty awful, but it was better than the ground. He pulled one of their blankets up over her shoulders. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll find something to help,” he said.

“Be careful,” she breathed.

“Always.”

He wrapped himself in his cloak and pulled the hood over his head. He shook his hair over his face, obscuring his scar as well as he could. And he went out into the streets.

They only went out close to nightfall these days. Their faces were still posted on every notice board. The fire nation was spreading its usual propaganda about their victory: bragging about the death of the Avatar and the destruction of Ba Sing Se. He and Katara getting away was one hell of a loose end that they were hoping to tie off as quickly as possible.

Zuko wanted to hope that Aang was still out there somewhere. This wasn’t the first time the fire nation had bragged about the Avatar being dead, and Aang had survived the first time. It could happen again.

It probably hadn’t. But it could.

There was a seedy apothecary’s shop at the edge of the market. Zuko waited until it was nearly sundown, just minutes before the place was set to close, to go in.

He scanned the dusty shelves, looking for anything that might help. He passed over the bottles of tinctures and medicines. In a place like this, they were as likely to be sesame oil packaged with false labels as anything that would actually help Katara. They couldn’t afford most of them anyway.

Ginger tea. That would help. He grabbed a packet from the shelf and held it under his nose. It smelled reassuringly like ginger and dandelion leaf. He exchanged a few coins for it with the reedy man behind the counter. Zuko said nothing, and kept his hood heavy over his face.

He slipped back out into the street. The sun was setting and the market stalls were starting to wrap up their wares. Zuko hunted for something else to take back for Katara. Something to eat that they could afford and that wouldn’t upset her stomach.

He thought, not for the first time, of the early weeks of his exile in the earth kingdom with uncle. The simplicity of donning a mask and picking up his swords and taking what they needed.

No. He wasn’t that boy anymore. He would never stoop that low again.

And that was when he spotted a barrel of rice crackers at one of the remaining market stalls. The same kind of crisp, salty rice crackers he remembered eating when he was young, anytime he’d gotten sick. Just seeing them brought back a surge of memories. His mother had brought him coconut juice and those same crackers anytime he was ill.

It would be so easy. The shopkeeper had just pressed the lid back on the barrel and was struggling to lift it into a cart to carry them away for the night…

No. Absolutely not.

He rushed to help the shopkeeper lift the barrel into the cart instead.

“Thank you,” she said, eyeing him warily.

Because the shopkeeper was a woman, he realized. Dressed in men's clothing but definitely female, and not that much older than himself and Katara. From behind the stall, a small child poked his head up into the air. A boy who couldn’t be much more than three.

Zuko nodded at her and turned to go. Even with his hood over his face, with his hair combed forward to obscure his scar, it was dangerous to talk to anyone for long.

There was a loud crack of wood and the shopkeeper swore violently. Zuko turned back around. Something had broken underneath the cart. It listed awkwardly to one side. The woman was already on her knees, trying to see what had happened.

Zuko rushed back, dropping beside her.

“Let me help,” he said.

“I can fix my own cart thank you very much!” She snapped at him.

She scrambled to her feet and pulled a few tools from the back of the cart. Zuko just stood there awkwardly as she crawled back beneath it, cursing again as she struggled to see and fix what had broken.

Zuko dropped to his knees again and summoned a small flame in his hand. He kept it far from anything that might catch. Just close enough to provide light. The woman glared at him, but she didn’t tell him to leave. She immediately spotted the broken slat and began to repair it.

“Lift here,” she said, grudgingly, tapping at a place just next to his head.

Zuko braced his shoulder against the spot and lifted, holding it steady as the woman nailed a patch board into place. Even as his wound started to ache, he held steady.

“Done,” she said.

He let the cart settle again. It rattled, but held. The woman shifted to crawl back out from under the cart.

And she stopped. She gasped, her mouth falling open.

Zuko realized his hood had fallen. With the light in his hand…she could see his scar. He knew immediately that she knew who he was.

He put out the light. He scrambled to retreat. Her hand closed around his wrist. Zuko froze.

Wait!” She breathed.

“Please…” he said, horrified.

He didn’t want to hurt her, but he would if he had to.

“Are you safe?” She asked.

He barely heard the question through his panic, “…What?”

“Prince Zuko,” she said, hushed and frantic. “Are you safe?”

She knew who he was. And she didn’t want to turn him in? She…wanted to know if they were ok?

“…yes,” he said. “We’re safe. We…”

His voice caught in his throat. He looked at her with a mixture of relief and terror.

“Why?” He breathed.

She dropped her gaze, “My husband, Lu’s father, died taking Omashu. Such a useless battle.”

She was suddenly holding back tears.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko managed.

“The war took so much from me and my family. And you…” he saw her swallow. “You rebelled. You escaped. You came back and fought.”

Zuko’s grief choked him.

“We failed,” he said.

“But you fought.”

She pulled his hood back up over his head.

“You’re safe?” She asked again.

He nodded, “We’re hiding. We’re trying to get out of the city. We…”

She gave him a tight nod, “What do you need?”

What could he ask for? What could he ask for that wouldn’t put this woman in indescribable danger?

“My partner,” he said. “She’s sick.”

“The waterbender.”

Zuko nodded.

“What does she need?” The woman asked.

“She’s…” Zuko stumbled over his words, “Her stomach. And she’s so tired. I have ginger tea, but…”

The woman nodded again. She tugged his hood lower over his head. And she scrambled out from under the cart.

“Mom?” The boy called as she reappeared.

“Lu, get in the cart, baby,” she said.

Zuko kept his head down and turned away from the street while the woman filled a cloth bag with a hefty scoop of pine nuts, whole handfuls of dried fruit, and a heap of the precious rice crackers. Tears gathering in his eyes, Zuko reached for their coin purse, but the woman just pressed the bag into his hand and shook her head.

“Take it,” she said. “Stay safe.”

“How can I thank you?”

“Just stay safe,” she repeated. “You’re our best hope.”

He bowed to her. She squeezed his hands and retreated to her cart, packing up the last of her things and calling to her son.

Zuko tucked the bag under his cloak and stole away into the gathering shadows.

 

————————

 

Day 45

 

Katara woke up sick again. It had eased somewhat yesterday, helped by going back to bed, the ginger tea, and the rice crackers Zuko had somehow acquired. She’d hoped it would pass just that quickly. She’d been so exhausted lately for absolutely no reason, and feeling nauseous on top of that was hell.

At least Zuko was finally strong again. She could skip a day or two of working on his wound and he wouldn’t feel any worse off for it. There was less and less her bending could do for it at this point anyway.

They’d started a little calendar on the wall near the door, scratching marks into the wood to count the days they’d been in hiding. It had been…she counted the little tick marks, forty-five days. It was a long time to be in hiding. They kept looking for ways out of the city, but Caldera was locked down tight. Specifically to keep them in while the fire nation army combed the city for them? Maybe. But they hadn’t been found yet. That had to count for something.

Katara sat up slowly, groaning as her stomach rolled dangerously.

Instantly, Zuko was at her side. He rubbed her back soothingly as she took deep, steadying breaths. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and got up again, returning with a cup of water and a handful of the rice crackers. She took both, taking small sips and small bites. Seeing what her traitorous stomach would be able to handle today.

“I’ll make tea,” Zuko said, rising again.

Her stomach didn’t feel any worse from the food just yet, so Katara nibbled at one more rice cracker and eyed their makeshift calendar again. Six weeks since the comet, give or take a few days. With a sinking sensation in her gut, Katara realized something.

She’d missed her monthly cycle again.

She’d missed her period right after Sozin’s comet, but she hadn’t thought anything of it. Her cycle had been erratic all summer. Intense stress and inconsistent meals had a way of doing that, and that had only gotten worse since fleeing the palace. But twice…

She lowered her hand to her abdomen. Two skipped cycles. The exhaustion she’d been feeling. Nausea that attacked when she first woke but lessened as the day went on…

Spirits.

She was pregnant.

“Zuko…” she said.

She looked up at him, panicked, her hands settling protectively on her stomach. He rushed back to her, dropping to his knees in front of her and taking her shoulders gently in his soft, strong hands.

“What is it?” He asked, fear painting his expression, “are you ok?”

…What were they going to do? They were barely surviving as it was. She loved Zuko, and she knew he loved her, but loving her was very different from agreeing to be a father.

"Zuko…" she said. "I think I’m pregnant."

 

————————

 

"Zuko…" she said. "I think I’m pregnant."

The sudden shock made Zuko’s mind go blank. Of course. Her tiredness. Her sickness…

"…how?" Was all his mouth managed.

Stupid question. Obviously he knew how it had happened. But the last few weeks… First he’d been wounded. Then she’d been so exhausted. They’d barely had the time or the strength and when they had they’d been so careful…

Thankfully, she knew what he meant.

"Ember Island? I think," she said.

That long ago? But of course it made sense. Their closeness had begun the moment they returned from tracking down the southern raiders, her trust in him a new and fragile thing, but deep. What had followed was a few weeks of soft shared looks. Touches that lingered a little too long. A stolen kiss outside a packed theater. A quiet chemistry and companionship that quickly grew into long nights finding solace from all their fears in each other’s arms.

And that last night on Ember Island…they’d woken up to find Aang missing. In the rush to track him down…spirits, had they forgotten to make her contraceptive tea before they left?

"I’ve missed two cycles," she said. "I…I’m pregnant, Zuko."

She looked scared, her shoulders hunched and her hands protective on her belly. He folded her into his arms. She clung to him desperately.

What would they do? What would she want to do? She had choices. There were always choices. He loved Katara, and he knew she loved him. But loving him was very different from agreeing to carry his child…

He would do whatever needed to be done. He loved her. Whatever happened, he would be there with her.

"What are we going to do?" She asked him.

He kissed the top of her head, "…I don’t know. But… I’m with you. Whatever we do, we do it together."

It didn’t seem possible, but she somehow held him even tighter.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too,” he ran his hand over her back, "It’s ok. We have time. We don’t have to decide anything right now.”

She picked up her head and he met her eyes. There were tears on her face, and he gently brushed them away with his thumb.

“I love you,” he said again. “I love you so much.”

Agni let that be enough, he thought, as she folded herself against his chest and stayed there for a long time.

 

.

Chapter 4: Book 1 - Part 4

Day 51

 

Katara had always wanted to be a mother. She had always dreamt of raising children with someone she loved, watching them grow. Teaching them to waterbend, if she was lucky.

But all those dreams always took place in some nebulous, imaginary after. After the war. After the danger was past. Right now she and Zuko were in more danger than ever. And she was carrying their child now.

Whatever they did, they would have to choose soon. Katara guessed she was already six or seven weeks along. If they decided to end the pregnancy, the sooner they did it the safer it would be. She’d already caught Zuko sifting through their coins, making sure they had enough for the medicines they’d need.

It was the choice that made the most sense. They were fugitives. Hiding and staying safe would only get harder as a pregnancy progressed. And what could they possibly hope to do once the baby was born? Staying in hiding with an infant would be next to impossible.

And yet, every time she considered ending the pregnancy, she wanted to cry. Despite everything, she wanted this. She wanted to be a mother. She wanted to raise a child, and she wanted to do it with Zuko. This child was half her and half him. Proof of their incredible love for one another in a world where everything else was falling apart around them.

She wanted it so badly she couldn’t breathe.

“Would we be able to stay safe?” She asked him that night, leaning back against his chest with a cup of her ginger tea in her hands, “if we keep the baby.”

Zuko, his arms around her middle, squeezed her tighter for a moment.

“We’ll find a way,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”

He was adamant that whatever they did about the pregnancy would be her choice. That meant more to her than he could possibly realize, but she also wanted to make this decision with him.

“Do you want to be a father?” She asked him, point blank.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he said.

“Yes, it does,” she pressed. “I love you. Do you want this?”

He put his chin down on her shoulder. He hesitated.

“Yes,” he said. “I do. I do want this. But don’t let me-”

She turned her head so she could kiss him.

“I want this too,” she said. “This baby, our baby…”

Zuko looked like he might cry. She kissed him again.

“But can we do it?” She asked, her face falling. “Can I have a baby here and have us stay safe?”

She looked around their ramshackle shelter. Even now, after sheltering there for weeks, it wasn’t anything that could be considered a home. It was a waystop at best. A prison at worst. It was no place for a child.

And a child would make it so much easier to get caught. It would have needs they’d have to provide for, and right now they were barely able to provide for themselves. There were so many things that could go wrong between pregnancy and birth and a newborn’s early days… could they manage that, alone and isolated like this?

She felt Zuko’s chest shudder as he took an uneven breath.

“I don’t know,” he said.

A tear slipped from the corner of Katara’s eye. She brushed it away.

“Maybe…” she said. “Maybe this is just the wrong time.”

Zuko put his chin down on her shoulder again, holding her tight. Katara fought against her tears and failed.

And that was the moment that someone slipped a piece of paper under the door.

 

———————

 

Zuko scrambled to his feet and snatched the paper from the floor. He stealthily checked the street, peering out through one of the many cracks in the door, but whoever had left it was already gone.

“Zuko?” Katara picked herself up.

Zuko unfolded the piece of parchment. It was a string of random numbers. In the bottom left corner was a tiny ink drawing of a white lotus tile.

“What is it?” She asked, eyeing the page nervously.

“It’s a code,” Zuko said. “Uncle taught it to me.”

“The white lotus symbol…” she said.

“It has to be.”

He sat down cross legged on the floor, spreading the paper out in front of him. Katara settled across from him.

“It’s a location,” he explained, pointing to the first string of numbers. “The city is divided into neighborhoods, spiraling out from the palace. The next numbers are cross streets. Then house numbers.”

He traced the second line with his fingertip.

“This is a date and time. The key to translating it is the last number from the first line.”

Katara’s brow furrowed, “ok. where and when?”

Zuko did some quick math in his head, “Tonight. About an hour after sundown. Not far from here. This location should be just on the opposite side of the market.”

He looked at her, feeling something that felt worryingly like hope.

“I have to go meet them,” he said. “Whoever it is, they know Uncle’s cypher.”

“What if it’s a trap?” She asked.

“Then why leave a note? Why not just break the door down and fight us here?”

She bit her lip, but she nodded, “I’m going with you.”

He shook his head, “No, it’s not safe.”

“If it’s not safe for me, it’s not safe for you either.”

“Katara…”

“I’m not letting you go alone! What if something happens? What if you get caught? What if this whole thing is a setup and they drag you away somewhere…”

He took her hands in his.

She had a point. There were a lot of people in the fire nation who could potentially know this cypher. Anyone could draw a lotus on the bottom of a page.

“We’ll both go,” he said. “But you’ll stay hidden.”

She started to protest.

“Katara,” he pressed. “I’ll meet them. You’ll stay nearby where you can listen. And then if something does go wrong, you’ll know and-”

“And I’ll get you out of it,” she said.

He pressed his forehead to hers.

He didn’t know what this was or what it would mean, but it felt like a lifeline.

They passed a very tense evening, waiting for the sun to go down and the meeting time to arrive. Zuko heated more tea, and encouraged Katara to eat. She wasn’t eating nearly enough. Neither of them were, but Katara could only stomach small amounts at a time, and she needed the strength. Of the items the young shopkeeper had gifted them, the pine nuts had been the most unexpected blessing. Katara couldn’t get enough of them. They were doing their best to make them last.

They packed all their belongings into their bags, just in case. If this meeting went sideways they might have to find a new hiding place.

They left early, creeping through the streets just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Zuko counted streets and houses until they found the indicated building.

It was a small storefront, the windows boarded up. Between the boards, what Zuko could see of the shop was almost entirely empty, no wares and little furnishings. Just the detritus of disuse. There wasn’t another person in sight.

They ducked into the shadows of an alleyway across the street to wait, and watch.

Zuko counted down the minutes. Just before the appointed meeting time, a solitary figure approached the house. It slipped through the door like a shadow.

Zuko turned to Katara. His hand cradled her cheek. He gave her a kiss, swift and firm.

“Stay here,” he said.

“Be careful,” she pressed.

“Of course.”

He made for the house. He crossed the street slowly, weaving through the handful of pedestrians that were still out in the gathering dusk. He left his swords on his back, but he kept his hands at the ready as he went inside.

The figure they’d seen before stood across the room. Their face was almost completely shadowed by their hood, as Zuko’s was. As Zuko closed the door behind him, the figure gave a soft gasp.

“Prince Zuko…” the figure said.

Zuko reached for his swords, yanking both into his hands and settling into a ready stance. The figure tore back his hood, revealing a man with silver threaded in his long hair. He held up his hands in surrender.

“Please, Prince Zuko,” the man said. “My name is Ren. I’m here with the White Lotus. We’re just… so happy to see you’re alive.”

Zuko did not lower his swords.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” He asked.

“I have a message from your uncle,” Ren said. “He said to tell you, ‘the eel-hound escaped the tower on the winter solstice.’”

Zuko lowered his swords. He and Iroh had been using that passphrase for almost a decade. This man knew his Uncle. Zuko was sure of it.

“Uncle’s ok?” Zuko asked.

“Yes. Yes he’s fine,” Ren said. “Safe at the northern air temple, with the resistance.”

Zuko heaved a sigh of relief. Uncle was ok. And there was a resistance?

“The Avatar and his companions?” He asked. “Sokka? Suki? Toph?”

Ren expression tightened, “The Avatar fell.”

Zuko nodded sadly. He’d suspected as much for a long time, but the wave of sorrow broke anew, thinking about Aang, falling at his father’s hands. He felt a little sick.

“The others?” He asked anxiously.

“Your other friends are safe. They’re at the temple as well.”

Zuko felt a knot in his chest, one that had been there since the moment they fled the palace, loosen.

“Katara. Is she with you?” Ren asked.

Zuko nodded, “yes, she’s here. She’s safe.”

“Is she nearby?” Ren asked with a furtive glance at the street.

“Yes,” Zuko sheathed his swords. “I’ll get her.”

“Wait!”

At the man’s urgency, Zuko stopped.

“Don’t go back outside,” Ren said. “Not yet. They may already be watching.”

Zuko went cold, “what do you mean?”

“If we found you, it’s only a matter of time before Fire Nation does as well.”

Panic sparked on his chest. They were going to need a new place to hide. They couldn’t risk going back to their shelter. And Katara was on the street, alone, and their enemies could be closing in. He darted for the door again.

“Wait,” Ren said again, catching Zuko by the forearm. “Here.”

He handed Zuko a folded piece of parchment. Zuko opened it, revealing another coded location.

“This is safe house here in the city,” he said. “A member of the order who can hide you. Take Katara and go here. Tonight. Leave this on the back windowsill next to the lantern.”

Ren pressed a white lotus tile into his hand.

“They’ll be watching for you. You can stay there until we’re able to smuggle you out of the city.”

Zuko clasped the man’s hand, so grateful and relieved he felt like his knees were about to go out from under him.

“Thank you,” he said.

“We don’t know how long it will take,” Ren added. “But we’ll get you out. We heard about your injury and your escape and…we were so worried you were dead. We’ll get you out of the city and to the northern air temple. Both of you.”

…all three of them.

“Katara’s pregnant,” Zuko said suddenly, “you should know that. As we plan.”

Whatever their escape plan was, it needed to have a deadline. They had to get out of the city while Katara could still travel.

Surprise flitted across Ren’s face, but he nodded.

“Tell your host at the safe house,” he said. “We’ll be able to help with…whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” Zuko said again.

Overflowing with gratitude, he bowed to Ren. Ren pressed a hand to the top of Zuko’s head, just for a moment, like a blessing.

“Go,” he said. “Go out through the back. Get Katara, and go to the safe house.”

Zuko rose back to his full height.

“Good luck,” Ren said.

 

———————

 

Katara watched the house from the safety of the alleyway. Zuko crossed the street and disappeared inside. She waited, breath held, for his shout. For the sounds of an attack.

When there was nothing, she let out her breath. But she did not relax her guard.

She waited. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. Ten minutes, he’d said. Give me ten minutes. If I don’t signal you in ten minutes, I’m in trouble.

The silence in the building across the street should have been reassuring. Instead it just gave Katara room to imagine all sorts of horrible scenarios. Maybe he’d been overpowered too quickly to resist. Maybe he was bound and gagged or unconscious and already being dragged away. Maybe his captors already had a ten minute head start.

Staring across the street, tapping out the seconds against the palm of her hand so she wouldn’t count too fast or too slow, she was utterly unprepared for someone to approach from behind.

“Katara,” came the whisper.

She spun, water pouring from her flask and swirling around her like a shield.

It was Zuko. His hands closed around hers and her water splattered to the dirt, soaking her boots. He leaned over her protectively and cast a furtive glance over his shoulder.

“Zuko…” she breathed.

“Shh,” he cautioned.

They stood still for a moment, barely breathing. Then, apparently satisfied. Zuko stepped back, though he kept hold of her hands.

“It’s the White Lotus,” Zuko whispered to her. “They gave me directions to a safe house. And Katara…they’re ok. Sokka and Suki and Toph. And Uncle.”

Relief flooded Katara. She felt tears press against her eyes. Zuko pulled her into his arms.

She noticed he’d left one name off the list. Of course she’d been assuming that Aang had fallen, since Ozai had survived. But she had to know.

“…Aang?” She asked softly.

Zuko let out a long breath before responding.

“He… he’s gone, Katara,” he said. “He really is gone.”

The last tiny shred of hope for him that Katara had been holding folded, and the space immediately filled with grief. She pressed her face into Zuko’s shoulder.

Their last few days with Aang, Katara had been so angry with him. And yes, maybe she’d had a right to be. But he was her friend. And they’d parted with so much resentment between them. Katara had spent days avoiding being alone with him, and then Aang had disappeared from the island without saying goodbye.

And now… now she would never see or speak to him again.

She felt Zuko’s hand on the back of her head.

“We have to go,” he said softly.

She picked up her head.

“We have to go right now,” he said. “And we have to make certain we aren’t followed.”

The sky was darkening by the minute, the stars starting to flicker. She took a heavy breath and nodded. Zuko let her go, tugged lightly on her hand, and she followed him into the night.

 

——————

 

They crept through the hush of the city, taking a long and circling route to the new location Zuko had been given. From the neighborhood number, Zuko knew this would be a much finer part of town. Their appearance, furtive and grubby, was not doing them any favors on these streets. He kept to alleyways and side streets, avoiding the lit thoroughfares. He doubled back on their own path half a dozen times, in case they were being tracked or followed.

By the time he felt safe enough to approach their destination, the moon was high and bright. Katara was exhausted. She was pretending not to be, but he could see it in her posture and the heaviness around her eyes.

The home indicated by the code was a lovely two story home in a row of fine houses. Not a noble’s mansion, but clearly the home of someone affluent. Zuko studied the house from the shadows, nervously checking for anyone who might be watching.

“Is this it?” Katara asked.

He nodded, “Let’s go.”

They crept around the back of the house. It faced the alley, with a heavy back door flanked by two windows. One of those windows was open, and lit by a glowing white paper lantern. Zuko pulled the lotus tile from his pocket and crept up below the window. He slid the tile into place with a soft click of wood on wood. He slipped back to Katara’s side and waited.

A face appeared in the window, its features lost to the shadows. The lantern disappeared from the sill.

And a moment later, the door opened. Light spilled out into the darkened alley. Framed in the doorway was a woman. She looked about Iroh’s age, and her sharp eyes swept the street, coming to rest on Zuko and Katara in the darkness.

“Inside,” she hissed. “Quickly.”

They obeyed, darting into the woman’s house. She shut the door behind them and locked it with a heavy key.

“This way,” she said, leading them immediately down a narrow hall.

Zuko followed, Katara just a step behind. The woman led them into a study, where a staircase rose toward the building’s second floor. She opened a door underneath the stairs, revealing a small storage space. She shifted a handful of crates, and lifted a trapdoor.

“Down here,” she said, setting the lantern on the floor and lowering herself onto the waiting ladder.

They followed. Underground, Zuko found himself in a low tunnel. He could only just stand up without hitting his head on the ceiling. Katara scrambled down next to him.

The tunnel was short, far less than the length of the house, and ended quickly at a heavy metal door. The woman turned the mechanism on the front and it slid open with surprising ease.

“There’s enough supplies in here for several days,” she said. “You’ll have to stay hidden until we’re sure you weren’t followed here. If no one comes for you in three days, we’ll consider you safe and go from there.”

The hidden room was small. Smaller even than their shelter in the slums had been. But it was stocked with food, casks of water, stacks of candles, plush sleeping mats and blankets… Everything they could possibly need was here.

Zuko was so relieved he wanted to cry. He bowed to the woman.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Of course, my prince,” she said.

“What is your name?” He asked.

She shook her head, “For now, it’s better you don’t know it. Stay inside. Stay hidden. It locks from the inside.”

She stepped into the room and showed them the locking mechanism.

“I’ll come back in three days,” she said. “Then we’ll talk about getting you to safety.”

The woman put an affectionate hand on his cheek, giving him a soft smile. She reached toward Katara and held her hands for a moment.

“Stay strong,” she said to the both of them. “You’re almost there.”

She gave them one more determined nod, and shut them in.

The room was plunged into darkness. Zuko summoned a flame in his hand and threw the locking mechanism, sealing them in.

He turned to Katara.

She fell into his arms, clinging to him tightly. He held her against his chest, one hand still cradling the small flame. He rested his cheek against her head.

“We’re safe,” Katara said. “Zuko we’re safe.”

Safe enough at least. Safe enough, perhaps, to rest. They would know for sure in a few days.

He released her and lit a handful of the candles. Soon the room was bathed in soft firelight, and Zuko extinguished the flame in his hand. Katara refilled their water flasks from the waiting casks and took a long drink. She sat down on the edge of one of the sleeping mats.

Zuko settled next to her. The mat gave under his weight, softer than anything he’d felt in months. Katara tipped against his shoulder. He put his arm around her.

“Zuko,” she said again, disbelievingly, “we’re safe.”

He kissed her. Her hands came up to cradle his face. His lips moving softly against hers, he eased her back into the sleeping mat. She relaxed under his touch, loose and languid in a way that neither of them had dared to be in ages.

Zuko pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and lay down next to her. She curled into him, her head settling perfectly into his shoulder.

“I love you,” she said in a whisper that he felt against his neck.

“I love you too,” he breathed.

She was asleep in minutes.

Zuko stayed awake. Listening. But the night passed without incident.

 

.

Chapter 5: Book 1 - Part 5

Notes:

Hey humans you’re getting a chapter a few days early this week because I needed something to do today that brings me joy. This chapter is a pretty uplifting one I think, with some oddly timely sections, and I hope it gives you a glimmer of something positive too.

If you’re in the united states today and are femme or queer or trans or of color or disabled or any other minority under the sun I send you my heart. I am shattered and have no words of wisdom but if you need someone to sit with or a hand to hold here’s mine.

🤍🤍

Day 54

 

Three days passed in an odd, dreamlike daze.

Katara rested. Guiltlessly she rested, and it was exquisite. They ate their fill from the supplies around them whenever they were hungry, (Zuko more so than her but at least she always had the option,) without worrying about anything running out. They slept on soft sleeping mats under warm blankets.

They took turns doing slow tai chi in the small space when they got restless. It was just such a tiny room to be hidden in. Even Katara could reach up and touch the ceiling without having to stretch.

They huddled breathlessly in the dark when the house around them creaked and echoed. They could hear people moving back and forth above them sometimes. Sometimes the low rumble of voices. There was no way of knowing if the footfalls above belonged to friends or foes.

But between it all, Katara let herself hope. The White Lotus had found them. If the White Lotus was really able to get them out of the city, they could be reunited with Sokka and Suki and Toph. And if they really were going to get out of the city… they could keep the baby.

Katara didn’t know what kind of world would be waiting for their child, but godammit she wanted to try. She wanted to take the broken world by the throat and make it into a better place. She couldn’t give up hope now.

Finally, the knock, an identifying pattern they’d agreed on three days ago, came against the door. Zuko sprang to his feet, darting across the room and turning the lock. The door swung open to reveal the sharp-eyed old woman. Another woman, much younger, stood at her elbow.

“Are you all right?” She asked them. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

Katara followed Zuko and their mysterious hosts out of the shelter and up the ladder. In the light of day -well, more like sunset- the home had a light, airy feel. Opulently furnished but homelike.

The woman gave them a little bow, “My name is Ayumi. This is Mina.”

The younger woman bowed as well. Katara returned the gesture. So did Zuko, who then, formalities done, lifted his arms over his head and stretched luxuriously. Ayumi gave a sympathetic chuckle.

“I’m sorry that space is so cramped,” she said. “Mina. Tea?”

Mina bowed and retreated. Ayumi gestured to the room’s low table. Katara folded herself onto one of the waiting cushions. Zuko stretched a few more times before joining them. A beam of the falling sun, filtering into the room from high windows near the ceiling, fell on his face. As she watched, he visibly relaxed, the tension bleeding out of his expression.

“I think we can safely say that your arrival here went undetected,” Ayumi said, sitting across from them. “You’ll still need to stay out of sight during the day, but evenings can be spent here, when you want to get out of that cubby downstairs. None of the windows here face the street, and as long as we keep quiet, stay out of sight, you can move around in here.”

“Thank you so much,” Zuko said. “You’re risking so much to keep us here…”

Ayumi waved a hand, like it was nothing.

“I’m a safe house,” she said. “It’s what I do.”

“It’s an amazing shelter,” Katara said. “Did you build it yourself?”

“With a little help from the White Lotus,” Ayumi said with a wink, “You’d be amazed at how often it comes in handy. Living under the Fire Nation as long as I have? It’s the one thing I’m perfectly positioned to do here.”

There was a quiet strength in this woman that Katara admired. She radiated courage with every move.

“Once, I had a husband and three sons,” Ayumi went on. “Now I have one son and three casualties of the Fire Nation’s wars. And my Sen Li is still in uniform, stationed in the earth kingdom somewhere. It’s just me and Mina here now. All this to say…”

Mina returned with the tea, a rich and fragrant oolong blend that Katara took gratefully. Ayumi sipped at hers for a moment before she continued.

“All this to say that I have no reason to love the Fire Nation,” she said. “And they have no reason to suspect me.”

Katara put her cup back on the table. Her hand reflexively settled in her stomach. This powerful woman had lost her husband and two sons…

Zuko reached for her hand. Across the table from them, Ayumi’s face took on a determined expression.

“We’re going to get the two of you out of the city if it’s the last thing I do,” she said.

Katara took a deep breath. She didn’t want this woman in any more danger, in the path of any more loss, because of them.

“How can we help?” She asked.

“I’m glad you asked,” Ayumi replied.

Mina handed Ayumi a rolled scroll of parchment. She unfurled it to reveal a map of Caldera.

“There’s no way to get you out through the city gates unseen,” she said, spreading the map flat on the table. “Every cart and vehicle and traveler is searched thoroughly before they’re allowed through. Now, we know that there are tunnels under the city that lead all the way out to the mountainside, but we don’t know where they are. Not precisely.”

She looked up at Zuko.

“Prince Zuko,” she began.

“Just Zuko,” he said. “Please.”

Ayumi frowned, but she nodded.

“Do you know where the tunnels are?” She asked. “Have you traveled them?”

Zuko bent over the map, his brow furrowing.

“I don’t know if that will be much help,” he said. “The only way to access those tunnels from inside the city is through the palace. Or maybe the barracks.”

“Leave that to us,” Ayumi replied. “Do you know where they are? In relation to the streets above them?”

Zuko rested his chin on one hand, the other tracing a tentative line across the map.

“There are two,” he said. “One heading north and one heading west.”

Ayumi handed Zuko an ink pen. He lowered it to the page, but hesitated.

“I’m not sure where they are,” he said. “I never saw a map with street names over top or anything.”

“Even a guess gives us a place to start,” Ayumi said. “We’ll compare your guesses with Iroh’s and go from there.”

Zuko gave a determined nod, and lowered the pen to paper. When he was done, Ayumi handed the page off to Mina.

“Compare this with Iroh’s and send them the results,” she said.

Mina nodded.

“You’re sending them to Uncle?” Zuko asked.

Ayumi nodded.

“Can I send him a message?” Zuko asked.

Ayumi winced sympathetically.

“Best you don’t, for now. If the hawks get intercepted, it’s better the Fire Nation doesn’t get confirmation that we’ve found you.”

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut tightly, but he nodded. Katara reached for his hand, twining their fingers together.

“They know you’re safe,” Ayumi added. “The rebels at the air temple. We were able to pass on that much.”

Katara heaved a sigh of gratitude and relief. If Sokka and Suki and Toph had been even half as worried about her and Zuko as she’d been about them, she was grateful they could stop worrying.

“It will take time to get you safely out of the city,” Ayumi warned them. “To create a plan that cannot fail, and then to execute it.”

She looked at Zuko, then at Katara, and then back to Zuko.

“Because we absolutely cannot fail,” she said. “We’ll plan for months if we have to.”

Katara shifted nervously. She shared a glance with Zuko.

“I’m pregnant,” she said. “We have time but…not too much time.”

Ayumi’s mouth fell open in a surprised little gasp, and then split into a huge smile.

“Oh, my dear!” She said. “What a blessing!”

Tears filled Katara’s eyes. Zuko put his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. A blessing. Yes, this was a blessing. In just a few days, everything had shifted. Their future was still uncertain, but they were no longer alone in it.

Ayumi rose, pulling Katara to her feet and fussing over her. Katara let her. Ayumi hadn’t mentioned any grandchildren when she talked about the family that remained to her. Had any of her sons had families? Or was the joy of another generation growing up in her home another thing she’d been denied?

“How are you feeling, love?” Ayumi asked, her firm hands very soft on Katara’s shoulders. “Are you eating?”

Katara grimaced, “As much as I can.”

Ayumi nodded knowingly, “what helps? Tea? Certain food?”

“Ginger tea helps,” Katara said. “And…pine nuts?”

“Pine nuts it is then. Anything that sounds appealing to you, you just say the word and we’ll get it,” Ayumi gave a little chuckle, “With my youngest all I wanted to eat was mangoes. Every day, mangoes!”

Katara was embarrassingly grateful to be fussed over. She gave Ayumi a shy, thankful smile. Ayumi took Katara’s hands in hers.

“And yes, ginger tea will do wonders,” Ayumi went on. “Ginger and mint. Mina makes a spearmint white tea that is heaven on the stomach…”

Zuko came up behind Katara, his arms wrapping around her waist.

“And for the father?” Ayumi teased gently. “Something for the nerves, perhaps?”

Zuko shook his head, resting his chin on Katara’s shoulder.

“No,” he said. “I’m not nervous. Not anymore.”

Katara leaned back against Zuko. There were plenty of things to be afraid of, but this… their future family… that wasn’t one of them.

Ayumi smiled at them both. Her face took on that hard, determined look again and she gave a tight nod.

“We’re going to get you to safety,” she said. “I promise.”

 

———————

 

Day 81

 

Planning an escape of the Fire Nation capital, as it turned out, took almost a month. Ayumi hinted at their progress, but most of the plan was kept secret, even from Katara and Zuko. Ayumi didn’t know the full scope of the plan either. It limited the amount of information that could be discovered by the Fire Nation if anyone got caught.

But at long last, Ayumi gave them instructions to pack.

“Tomorrow,” she said, hushed and furtive. “You’ll be going tomorrow.”

Katara threw her arms around the woman. She and Zuko owed this woman an incredible debt of gratitude. For a month she’d kept them safe in her home. Ayumi held her back just as tightly.

“How can we ever repay you?” Katara said.

“You don’t have to,” Ayumi said. “Just keep yourselves safe.”

They sat up late, spending one more evening with Ayumi and Mina. Katara ached, thinking about how she may never see either of them again. Once they were out of the city, it didn’t seem likely that they would ever return. Mina gave Katara an entire packet of her white spearmint tea as a parting gift, and Katara wept.

And now, she couldn’t sleep. The walls of the underground shelter had never felt more confining. Katara itched with restless energy. She was exhilarated at the prospect of getting out of the city. Reuniting with her brother and their friends. Joining the resistance that Ayumi kept alluding to in maddeningly vague detail.

She was also terrified.

Zuko wasn’t sleeping either. Katara rolled over onto her back and felt him shift in response. The darkness of the hidden room was absolute, the quiet almost too complete to bear.

“Zuko?” She said softly.

“Yeah?”

“What do you think it’s like out there?”

She remembered the conversation they’d had on Ember Island, only a few months ago but in an entirely different world. She remembered sitting next to Zuko, overlooking the sea from the second story of the house and talking about how a world where Ozai won wasn’t a world that either of them wanted to see.

Zuko nestled a little closer to her. She felt his lips on the top of her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” he said.

Katara turned again so she was facing him. She still couldn’t see him, couldn’t see anything in the empty black, but her hand found his cheek. In the darkness, her fingertips found the line of his scar.

The Fire Nation was ruthless. They were vicious. They were more powerful than ever before. Clinging to hope, any hope at all, took all of Katara’s strength.

She pressed a tiny, soft kiss to the curve of Zuko’s lips. His hold around her tightened.

“I love you so much,” he said.

Katara pressed herself against him. If there was one thing she would never question, it was that. She thought back to the first time he’d said it to her, on the floor of their old shelter in the slums, when his fever finally broke and he was truly awake for the first time in days. He’d been saying he loved her for several days in his feverish ramblings, but she didn’t count those. When she’d realized he meant it that time, that his mind was clear and he still insisted on how much he loved her… It had helped her believe that maybe, they might be ok.

“I love you too,” she said.

The danger they faced had only grown, but they were still a team. As long as they had each other, Katara could cling to hope. Hope like dirt under her fingernails.

 

————————

 

Day 82

 

Katara wasn’t conscious of having slept, but the next thing she knew, Zuko was gently shaking her awake. She sat up sleepily, taking stock of how she felt. If there was ever a day where she needed her body to cooperate with her, it was today.

Zuko was already a step ahead of her. He brought her tea, and a handful of rice crackers and nuts.

“What time is it?” She asked.

“I think we have about an hour,” he said.

They had a little timepiece that Mina had given them last night, a little clockwork gadget that wasn’t terribly accurate, but better than nothing.

Katara ate what she could, then a little more when her stomach didn’t immediately protest. Zuko double checked that everything they needed was packed. Katara carefully braided her hair back away from her face. It had finally grown long enough to be pulled back into two short braids, lying flat against her head.

She had just finished her tea and was debating a second cup when the noise started in the house above them.

 

——————

 

It was impossible that they’d ever mistaken friendly footsteps in the house above for the sounds of their enemies.

The ruckus in the house above was unmistakable. The booted footfalls of soldiers rattled the floors, punctuated with shouts of anger and cries of pain and the heavy drop of defeated warriors falling to the ground.

It was killing Zuko to have to listen. He needed to help.

He shifted toward the lock again, but Katara’s hand on his wrist stayed him. He met her eyes, desperate and angry and anxious, and saw the same emotions reflected in hers. Her hands came up to cradle his face. They pressed their foreheads together hard. Their tense, ragged breaths matched.

The noise above tapered off.

Then came the unmistakable sound of the trapdoor, and of someone descending the ladder.

Zuko stepped back from Katara, readying himself. If it was enemies on the other side of the door, they would be firebenders, so he would meet them first. Fire for fire. Katara settled a pace behind him, her forearms wrapped in water.

Zuko breathed.

Someone banged on the door.

“Hey! Idiots! It’s me! Open up!”

Zuko lowered his hands.

“Toph?!”

“Who do you think, Sparks?” Toph called again. “Now open up! Don’t make me metalbend this door down because you know I will!”

Zuko threw the lock. It ground open and the door swung outward. And Toph was there. Katara beat him to her, throwing her arms around their friend.

“Come on Sweetness,” Toph said, stepping back. “There’ll be time for that later. We’ve got about ten minutes to get out of here before another brigade shows up.”

They ran after Toph, climbing the ladder and appearing back in the house. They blinked in the sudden midmorning light. The house was smoldering in places. Unconscious soldiers littered the floor.

“Ayumi and Mina?” Katara asked nervously.

“They got away,” Toph said. “Hopefully they’re already underground. Come on.”

She led them out into the alley behind the house where a sturdy wagon, pulled by an ostrich horse, waited. Two other resistance fighters were already there. One held out a hand and yanked Zuko up into the back of the cart. He pulled Katara up behind him. Toph leapt up onto the front bench.

“Stay down,” the first resistance fighter said, throwing a heavy blanket over Zuko and Katara.

“Ryn?” the other asked.

“Down,” Toph said. “Nothing we can do.”

The soldier snapped the reins and the cart rattled into motion. Under the blanket, Zuko reached for Katara. She had her bending water coiled around her hands, ready to fight her way out at a moment’s notice.

They kept a slow, steady pace, and Zuko wondered why they weren’t rushing to safety. Why weren’t they fleeing, if there was another brigade on their tail? But as the sounds of the morning market traffic filled his ears, he understood. They weren’t fleeing. They were disappearing.

After a long while, the cart rocked and settled. Zuko shared a tense glance with Katara, but neither of them moved. He barely dared to breathe. He had no idea where they were, but the sounds of the city had quieted around them.

He heard the rattle of the ostrich horse’s harness as someone unclipped it from the cart. There was a loud smack and the creature brayed and ran off.

“Hold on,” he heard Toph say, low and quiet.

The earth swallowed them. Zuko gasped in shock and Katara gave a little shriek that she quickly stifled. The cart rattled as it came to a stop, heavy but not the jarring impact he expected considering the distance they’d fallen.

Fallen.

Zuko sat up. They were in one of the tunnels that led out of Caldera. The dark corridor stretched endlessly away in both directions. It was lit from above by the hole they’d fallen though, but the path quickly disappeared into the shadows.

“Let’s go,” Toph said.

They abandoned the cart amidst the pile of rock and dirt. When they were all a safe distance away, Toph turned back. Her feet skated across the ground as she settled deep into her stance.

She collapsed the tunnel behind them, sealing off their escape route.

Zuko summoned fire as the tunnel was plunged into darkness. The others lit torches from the flame in his hand.

“We’re walking out,” Toph said. “There’s a war balloon waiting for us. Let’s get a move on!”

At long last, they were getting out. Zuko took Katara’s hand in his and started to walk.

 

.

Chapter 6: Book 1 - Part 6

Notes:

Heeeeeeey this chapter has been written almost since I first started plotting this fic (because I’m a gremlin who can’t write a fic chronologically to save my damn life) and I’m so psyched to share it with you. You’re about to meet my favorite updated-for-this-AU character.

Brief content warning: this whole fic is tagged Major Character Death but this is the chapter that deals with that most directly. You have been content warned.

Let’s go.

 

———————————

Day 86

 

On the war balloon, one that was really not quite big enough for the five passengers it carried, Katara and Zuko traveled northward. Every inch of the ship, from its firebox to the passenger basket to the balloon itself, was the pitch black of the night sky. They only flew after sundown, and only when there was enough cloud cover to dampen the moonlight. Thankfully, the moon was only a narrow crescent. Still, their flight north took several days.

Katara sat on the floor of the balloon’s basket, Zuko on one side of her, and Toph on the other. The two other resistance fighters, men several years older than the rest of them named Kenshin and Junpei, worked the balloon.

There should have been a third. Ryn, his name had been. He’d died in the fighting in Ayumi’s mansion.

“They had to have been watching us,” Toph had explained as they waited for night to fall outside Caldera that first evening. “The moment we went into the house the brigade came out of nowhere. They knew we were about to do something big. I bet they knew that if they waited long enough, we’d lead them right to you.”

Katara felt another spike of fear for Ayumi and Mina. With the damage they’d left in their wake, with the war balloon haunted by the missing presence of their fallen comrade, Katara couldn’t help but wonder if their rescue had been worth the cost.

Junpei signaled to Zuko, who got up to stoke the flames in the firebox. The balloon rose a little higher into the night sky.

Next to Katara, Toph sat very stiffly. She’d always disliked flying, even in the days of traveling with Appa. But on this flight, she sat curled into herself, her knees pulled all the way into her chest, her hands and her feet both pressed firmly against the floor. Her breaths were slow and rhythmic, but with a tense cadence that meant she was fighting very hard to keep them that way.

When asked about what happened on the day of Sozin’s comet, Toph had immediately fallen into grim silence.

“We lost,” she said.

She refused to elaborate, unwilling or, Katara suspected, unable to speak about it.

Katara shifted a little closer to Toph as Zuko rejoined them, resting her hand on top of one of hers. Toph did not pull away, which all but confirmed Katara’s suspicions.

“He says we’re almost there,” Zuko said, low in Katara’s ear.

They were weaving their way through high, spindly mountain peaks, and suddenly Katara spotted a tiny light on one of the ridges ahead. It flickered, but not erratically like a fire. Like a lamp being repeatedly shuttered. Like a signal.

Kenshin steered the airship toward the light. Katara started to rise, but a sharp shake of the head from Junpei made her sit back down. They approached the mountainside, and the signal light, in perfect silence.

The light flickered from an outcropping, high up on the rock face. If Katara squinted, she could make out figures moving there in the darkness. Kenshin and Junpei steered the balloon as close to the mountainside as they could, then threw ropes toward the figures on the ground.

She could see them now, half a dozen of them, all dressed in the same black as the balloon, their faces covered so they wouldn’t catch the thin moonlight. They guided the balloon in for a landing in a crevice in the rock. Katara scrambled out of the passenger basket, the others right behind her. Toph, her feet back on solid stone, finally relaxed.

They extinguished the fuel in the firebox and let the balloon fold in on itself. Two of the black clad figures stayed in the hanger to store the balloon, but the rest beckoned them through a heavy metal door and into an adjacent tunnel.

They lit torches. The rebels removed their masks.

And Katara spotted a familiar face.

"Sokka!" Katara pulled away from Zuko and ran to her brother.

And she stopped short. She gave an involuntary gasp.

Sokka’s left leg ended in a metal prosthetic just below his knee. A huge burn scar crawled across his neck, disappearing under the collar of his shirt.

"Hey Katara," Sokka said softly.

She threw herself at him. His arms closed around her just as tight. Sokka’s grip was crushing and she felt his chest shake. Katara found herself fighting not to cry too. Half relief, and half sorrow.

"What happened?" She asked, refusing to let him go.

"Ozai’s airships happened," Sokka said dryly. "It’s a long story.

 

———————

 

86 days earlier

 

Sokka fell.

Toph, unable to see, screaming, fell next to him. He reached.

His hand closed around her wrist just as he collided with the metal shelf beneath him.

He felt his leg buckle and crack on impact. He cried out, slamming against the walkway. Toph kept falling. Sokka screamed again as his grip stopped her, almost yanking his arm from his shoulder.

And two firebenders were there. Sokka hurled his boomerang at one of them. The man dropped. He threw his sword at the other, who went down with the blade in his gut.

Two more immediately took their place.

Fire.

Sokka raised his free arm to shield his face, but the hard, hot pain bit anyway. Toph cried out, her grip loosening and starting to slip out of his.

He lunged for her with his free hand.

They fell.

 

————————

 

Katara reached up and touched the burn mark on Sokka’s neck. He turned his head away.

"I should have been there," she said. "I could have helped."

Sokka just shook his head

“Suki?” Katara asked.

“She’s here,” he said. “She’s safe.”

 

———————

 

86 days earlier

 

They landed on the top of another airship, Suki dragging it across the sky to catch them.

“Sokka!” She screamed, running to them, “Toph!”

Sokka slapped at the pieces of his tunic that still smouldered, putting them out. His leg looked… wrong. His chest and his shoulder throbbed with a hot pain.

He looked over at Toph. Her right arm and shoulder were a mess of red, blistered skin, her clothing scorched and hanging by threads in places. But she scrambled to her feet, ready to keep fighting.

Suki pulled Sokka upright. He couldn’t put weight on his mangled leg at all.

“This ship is going down,” Suki said. “We need to get clear. Now.”

But what could they do? The entire forest below them was on fire.

“Toph, the turning rudder,” he said. “See if you can get this ship turned back toward the water.”

She rushed off. Suki and Sokka hobbled after her.

Toph metalbent the turning rudder just as she had on the previous ship. The airship shuddered and turned, sinking out of the sky more quickly but tracking back toward the sea.

Sokka looked over his shoulder. In the distance, he could see Fire Lord Ozai and Aang. Ozai had Aang backed against a stone shelf. Aang looked broken. Exhausted.

“Come on kid…” Sokka breathed.

Aang charged.

Fire met air, as it had a thousand times before, the flame dispersing around Aang as he buffeted it away. Aang sailed over the Fire Lord’s head. Ozai dropped to one knee, shooting missiles of flame at Aang with both hands as he tracked over and past him.

And the Fire Lord summoned lightning.

The last shot hit Aang squarely in the back. Inches from where Azula had struck him in the caverns beneath Ba Sing Se.

Aang didn’t even cry out. He just went rigid, falling clumsily out of the sky.

Sokka waited for him to catch himself. Aang was an airbender. He owned the skies and laughed at gravity.

Instead, the three of them watched Aang fall to his death.

Suki, still holding Sokka upright, gave a choked sob.

“What is it?” Toph asked.

Fuck. She had no idea.

“Aang is down,” he said.

Toph gasped, “Where? We have to help him!”

“No Toph,” Sokka said, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. “Aang is dead.”

The airship beneath them made an ominous groaning sound.

Sokka could grieve later.

“We've got to get to the front of the ship,” he said.

Suki nodded, steering him toward the nose of the airship.

Toph didn’t move.

“Come on Toph!” He ordered.

She followed. They all stumbled their way toward the front of the ship.

They would reach the water. As long as nothing else happened to the ship, it would go down in the shallows. The shore was growing closer by the second, the ground rising to meet them.

“Toph can’t swim,” Suki said under her breath.

“Help her,” Sokka said. “I’ll be ok.”

Deep inside the ship, an explosion echoed.

“We gotta go!” He shouted.

They all scrambled forward as fast as they could. Below them, sand turned to water.

Another explosion rattled the ship.

Suki shoved Sokka out into the air. She grabbed Toph around the waist and leapt.

Again, they fell.

The airship came apart behind them in a burst of concussive flame.

Suki screamed.

They fell.

 

—————————

 

“Appa found us,” Sokka said. “He probably came looking for Aang, but he saved our lives. Suki wouldn’t have made it if we hadn’t gotten back to the White Lotus camp so quickly.”

“What happened to her?” Katara asked.

Sokka’s jaw tightened. He looked away. Katara threw her arms around him again.

“Can I help?” She said. “How can I help?”

“Tomorrow,” he said. “It’s late. She’ll be asleep. I’ll take you tomorrow.”

Zuko joined them. Sokka let go of Katara and met Zuko in a firm embrace.

“Spirits, I’m glad you’re ok,” Sokka said.

Zuko was crying. He spoke to Sokka but Katara didn’t catch his words.

“This is probably the safest place in the world right now,” Sokka said as he released him. “You’re safe now.”

Safe.

Tears gathered in Katara’s eyes again. Zuko reached for her, pulling her close against his side. Katara leaned her head against his shoulder, and her hand settled against her middle, where she could just barely feel the rise of their child in her belly.

Sokka caught her movement and gave her a small smile.

“Congrats, by the way,” he said.

Katara gave a small laugh, “Yeah, we… We’re really happy about it.”

Zuko kissed Katara’s cheek.

“Then I’m happy too,” Sokka said. He gave Zuko a playful shove, “and I’ll save my lecture about how I’m way too young to be anyone’s uncle for tomorrow. Like, come on buddy, that’s my sister.”

Zuko and Sokka both chuckled. For just a second, he looked like her silly big brother again.

Then Sokka turned and led the way into the tunnels, his metal prosthetic rattling with every stride.

 

.

Chapter 7: Book 1 - Part 7

Notes:

Hey y’all this is a looooong chapter because I couldn’t find a good place to pause it, so I’m sorry and/or you’re welcome!

Day 87

 

Zuko slept more soundly than he had in months.

They’d escaped the fire nation. He and Katara were now deep in the best-protected rebellion enclave in the world, guarded by the White Lotus and the strongest survivors of Sozin’s Comet. For the first time in months, Zuko didn’t have to worry about being hunted, or ambushed, or protecting Katara in case she woke up feeling ill or weakened.

He slept.

And when he woke, Katara was gone.

He sat up frantically, throwing the blankets back and searching the room for her.

“She’s ok,” came a soft voice. “Sokka took her to see Suki.”

“Uncle!”

Zuko leapt up. Iroh rose and met his nephew in a crushing embrace.

“My boy,” Iroh said under his breath, repeating it like a mantra, “my boy my boy my boy.”

Zuko felt tears welling in his eyes.

“Uncle,” he said. “I’m so glad you’re ok.”

“I’m so sorry nephew,” Iroh said. “I’m sorry it took us so long to find you. You…heh… you hid a little too well.”

Zuko tightened his grip around his uncle's shoulders.

“Thank you uncle,” Zuko breathed. “Thank you for getting us out.”

“Thank you,” Uncle replied, “for holding on so long.”

Finally, they released each other. Zuko brushed tears from his face. Iroh did the same.

“Uncle,” Zuko said, “what happened?”

Iroh’s face fell. He closed his eyes and took a long breath.

“We heard about Aang, and Ba Sing Se,” Zuko said. “But…what happened?”

“We miscalculated,” Iroh said. “And we failed. The Avatar fell. Ba Sing Se burned.”

He brushed at his eyes again.

“If I’m going to tell you this whole story,” he said, “I’m going to need tea first.”

He shuffled toward the hearth, lighting the wood there with a burst of firebending. Zuko rushed to help. Iroh steered him back to the small table.

“Sit,” he said. “Rest. Let me.”

Zuko, grateful, obliged.

 

—————

 

Katara remembered the Northern Air Temple from when they’d visited it with Aang. That had barely been a year ago, but it had the feeling of an entire past life. The resistance had burrowed even deeper into the mountain, and they avoided the open areas where they might be spotted from a distance. The resulting corridors and sealed off rooms were cozy, but dark. Inner courtyards were the only places they went when they needed to see the sky.

It saddened Katara, to remember this place as it had been, the sky thick with gliders. A whole community had been forced underground. But at least it had survived.

Sokka led Katara across one of those courtyards now, taking her to see Suki.

“The airship exploded right after we jumped. All the shrapnel…” Sokka pulled up his sleeve to show a jagged scar on the back of his upper arm, “I got a few. Toph barely got hit at all. Suki…”

His steps slowed. Katara put a hand on his arm. Sokka stopped.

“It tore her apart, Katara,” Sokka said. “I…we almost lost her.”

Katara’s heart twisted and she threw her arms around her brother.

“For days after the comet I thought Zuko was going to die,” she said. “He took a lightning wound for me and I didn’t have the spirit water this time and…”

When she stepped back, they both brushed at their eyes. They started walking again.

“I want you to be ready,” Sokka said. “Before you see Suki. She’s been through a lot.”

Katara nodded, “Of course. How is she?”

“Better,” Sokka said. “But bad. The White Lotus surgeons saved her life. The wounds are mostly healed. But…”

“But?” Katara prompted.

“But she’s been mostly bedridden for months. They’ve been trying to wean her off the sedatives, so she isn’t sleeping well. And there’s something wrong with her hand and her feet. Something they can’t fix.”

Katara set her teeth and gave a tight nod.

“I’ll find it,” she said. “I’ll fix it.”

Sokka sighed, “I really hope you can.”

He reached their rooms and ushered Katara inside.

Katara had thought she’d been prepared, but Suki was a shell of herself. Months of tedious recovery had wasted her away. But she was alive, sitting at the kitchen table and smiling up at Katara.

“Katara!” She said.

“Suki!”

Katara rushed into the room and threw her arms around her friend.

Toph was there too, sitting across from Suki, one leg tucked up beneath her and the other foot firmly on the floor. She was looking at Suki with the same haunted expression that Katara felt deep in her chest.

She wondered if Toph felt the same twisted sense of guilt that she did. With Zuko’s angry new lightning scar, with Suki a shadow of the powerful warrior she remembered, with Sokka’s missing limb, it seemed almost unfair that she and Toph had escaped nearly unscathed.

Katara had no idea exactly what Toph’s cursed omniscient feet detected to signal that her mood had shifted, but as she released Suki, Toph’s hand closed around her wrist and gave an encouraging squeeze.

 

———————

 

85 days earlier

 

Toph was fine. She was fine.

She had nothing to complain about. Some pesky little burns? These little nonsense burns that she slapped some salve on every few hours? They were fine. They would heal.

She had nothing to complain about. Not when Suki hadn’t been conscious since they’d dragged her out of the water with all that jagged metal in her back. Metal that would have found Toph if Suki hadn’t shielded her. Metal that Toph had helped the White Lotus surgeons guide out of Suki’s body before they sewed her up.

Toph didn’t dare complain. Not when she’d been the one holding Sokka’s hand as they reset his shoulder and tried to stabilize his shattered leg. Not when her hands had held him down as the surgeon fought to realign the fragments of his bones under his skin, a very un-Sokka-like scream tearing from him right before he, mercifully, fell unconscious.

She was fine.

Aang was gone.

Ba Sing Se was still burning.

Toph, was fine.

Even though she could barely pick her feet up, she was fine. Every moment disconnected from the earth made her feel like she was back in the air, with Sokka’s hand as her only anchor, the only thing she could see in a world that swam with darkness and heat, incredible heat from an entire forest, raging with flame, somewhere fathoms below her sightless feet-

As long as she kept her feet on the ground, she was fine.

In another day, they’d be able to move Suki, and the few of them that remained in the White Lotus camp could retreat and join the others. Toph could hold the line here with Iroh for one more day. Then they could all finally fly away to safety.

Like there was any of that left anywhere in this new, horrifying, miserable world.

But she was fine. Dammit she was going to be fine.

 

————————

 

Toph let go of Katara’s wrist.

“Teo is looking for you,” Toph said to Sokka. “Has something he wants you to take a look at.”

Sokka looked from Suki, to Katara, a question in his eyes.

“Go,” Katara said. “We’ll be fine.”

Suki nodded, “I’m ok.”

“If you’re sure,” Sokka said, looking at Suki with a tense expression.

“I’m ok,” Suki said again. “Go.”

Sokka gave her a small smile. He pressed a quick kiss to Suki’s cheek, and then followed Toph back into the hall.

And Suki slumped forward and put her face in her hands, stifling tears.

“Suki! Are you ok?” Katara gasped, rushing to her.

“I’m sorry,” Suki said, instead of answering, fighting off her emotions.

“No, Suki, it’s ok. What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so tired. All the time. I’m so fucking weak. I can’t move, I don’t sleep, I-”

She dragged her hand forcefully across her eyes.

“Why didn’t you say so?” Katara asked. “You don’t have to put on a brave face for me.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands. “I’m doing it for Sokka.”

Katara’s chest ached.

“Tell me what hurts most,” she said.

Suki got up and took a few clumsy steps toward the bed, keeping a hand on the wall as she did. She laid down on her stomach so Katara could see the injuries on her back.

Spirits, she was riddled with them. All closed now, but Suki’s back and limbs were pockmarked with scars from where the airship shrapnel had torn into her. Katara could feel the deeper scar tissue too as she explored with her bending. The places where the White Lotus’s surgeons had stitched her insides back together.

Agni, Suki was lucky to be alive.

“This is good work,” Katara said to Suki. “Everything seems to be healing well.”

“I don’t need to worry about reinjuring anything?” Suki asked.

Katara shook her head, “No, I don’t think so. The White Lotus knew what they were doing.”

“The lung was the worst,” Suki said. “Not being able to fucking breathe for over a month.”

Katara checked over Suki’s lungs again. They felt whole and solid now, but she could feel the scar tissue of where one of them, however briefly, hadn’t been. But all the injuries were several months old. There wasn’t much she could do for them.

“Sokka told me something about your hands and feet?” She ventured.

“Yeah,” Suki’s voice was flat.

She moved to sit up. Katara tried to help her up but Suki swatted her hands away.

“I can sit up on my own,” she snapped.

Katara gave a tight nod. Suki picked herself up so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She held her right hand out to Katara, who took it gently.

“I can’t feel it sometimes,” Suki said. “Though that comes and goes. And…”

Suki’s hand closed around Katara’s in a very light grip.

“That’s as hard as I can hold,” Suki said.

Katara’s heart sank.

“I can barely hold a cup with it,” Suki said. “Much less chopsticks or a fan…”

Katara swallowed hard, fighting to keep her voice clinical.

“What about the other?” She asked.

“Oh my left hand is fine, the bastard,” Suki grumbled. “My feet though…”

Katara crouched in front of her, taking one of Suki’s ankles gently into her hands. Spirits, her legs were so thin. The muscles worn away to nothing.

“It’s hard to feel them,” Suki said. “Sometimes it’s that tingling feeling like you sat on them wrong. Sometimes it…it burns.”

“Right now?” Katara asked.

“Tingling,” Suki said. “Almost numb. Been like that all morning.”

Suki’s lower legs and feet, like her hand, looked fine. But there was…something, when she explored with her waterbending. A weakness in both limbs that she could sense, but wasn’t sure of the source. She took Suki’s hand in hers again, and sure enough, the feeling was almost the same.

“Anything?” Suki asked.

Katara closed her eyes, trying to focus, “there’s definitely something. But I don’t know…”

Suki heaved a defeated sigh. But Katara wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“Lay down again,” she said.

Suki obliged, stretching back out on her stomach again with her hands tucked under her chin.

She started with Suki’s feet and legs. She could feel the weakness there, like her lower legs weren’t quite as…alive as the rest of her. Something had to be causing it. It wasn’t like her whole body felt weak, it was just these few areas…

Katara went slowly up and down one of Suki’s legs. Moving with intense focus, she was able to find the precise point where the strength dropped away. It was one near one of the shrapnel scars on the back of Suki’s leg, just below the joint of her knee. Above the scar, her limb felt healthy. Below it, it was weak.

Katara pressed at the scar, gently. This wound had been especially deep. She could feel that with her bending. It had…

It had cut all the way down to Suki’s nerves. The metal had cut into the nerves that sent signals to her foot. They’d frayed from the damage and healed badly. Crossed signals like that would cause all the things Suki had been feeling.

“Suki I think I found it,” Katara said.

Suki picked up her head, “Really?”

She sounded so desperate and hopeful it broke Katara’s heart.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Let me try something.”

It was hard, trying to be so precise. But Katara coaxed Suki’s chi toward the damaged channels under that awful scar, trying to shore it up. To strengthen the connection between the healthy part of the limb and the damaged one. The energy was there, it just needed a better path to travel.

After several long minutes, she asked Suki to sit up.

“How does it feel?” She asked.

It felt a little better to her bending senses, but the true test would be whether Suki could tell the difference.

Suki rolled her ankle experimentally. She pressed her toes against the floor. She stood up, Katara offering a hand to steady her, and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, testing the difference.

She broke down in tears.

Katara pulled Suki into her arms.

“I’m sorry Suki,” she said. “I’m sorry I can’t-”

“No,” Suki clasped Katara tightly, “Katara, I can feel it.”

And suddenly Katara was crying too. She held Suki a little tighter.

“It’s nerve damage,” Katara said. “I bet it’s the same on all of them. It’ll probably take a while, but I think we can get them back to normal. Or at least a lot closer to normal.”

Suki sobbed in relief, holding Katara like she was a lifeline.

“Come on,” Katara said, releasing Suki, “let’s get to work.”

They were still hard at work when Sokka returned. Katara had just pulled Suki to her feet again, letting her test the progress they’d made. Katara held Suki by both hands, and the grip of her damaged hand was already a little stronger.

“Sokka!” Suki said, beaming, as he came into the room.

Barely holding on to Katara’s hand, Suki took a few clumsy steps toward Sokka. For a second, Sokka looked terrified. Then his face melted into disbelieving joy and he rushed to catch her in his arms.

“It worked!” Suki said. “It’s working! She can heal me.”

Sokka held Suki tightly for a long minute. They exchanged a few words that Katara didn’t catch.

Katara, exhausted, sat down at the table.

Sokka gave Suki a long kiss, and they finally separated. He held her hand as she walked, clumsy but balancing, to the empty seat at the table. Sokka stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck. He met Katara’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, without saying the words aloud.

Katara gave him a small nod.

“We’re getting everyone together this morning,” Sokka said, aloud this time, “to get you and Zuko up to speed on what we’ve been doing here.” He leaned over Suki’s shoulder, “Do you want to come, or do you want to rest?”

Suki paused, looking torn.

“You should rest,” Katara said.

Suki gave her a thankful smile.

“We did a lot of work just now,” Katara added. “Rest.”

Suki nodded. Sokka held a hand out to her again and steadied her as she returned to their bed.

Sokka turned to Katara, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Katara said.

She swayed a little as she rose. Sokka caught her by the elbow.

“Whoa, you ok?” He asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just tired.”

It was the truth. It had been months since she’d had to do such an intense healing session. Healing with waterbending always took a lot out of her. And with her pregnancy, energy was in extra short supply.

“Do you need something?” Sokka asked. “Tea? Something to eat?”

Katara grimaced. Her nausea had been lessening lately, but the thought of heavy meals still turned her stomach.

“Can we stop at my and Zuko’s room on the way?” She asked. “I have food there.”

“We have things here-” Sokka started to say.

Katara shook her head with a small grimace, “I can only handle certain things right now.”

“Right. Sure,” Sokka said. “Yeah we can stop off at your rooms.”

They left Suki to rest, and trekked down the hall and across the courtyard back to the room that had been allotted to Katara and Zuko. As they walked, Katara noticed that Sokka was favoring his leg in a way he hadn’t been before her session with Suki.

“Is your leg ok?” She asked, letting them back into her new room.

The room was empty. Zuko had probably already left for the meeting. Katara rummaged through their belongings, looking for her pouch of pine nuts.

“I mean…no?” Sokka said, trying to crack a joke, but the undercurrent of pain in his voice took the levity out of it. “But yeah it’s fine. As fine as it gets.”

Sokka sat down hard at the table. He shifted his leg, wincing. His hand closed around the top of his prosthetic, rubbing at it like he was trying to soothe an ache.

Phantom pain, Katara realized. She knew it happened with lost limbs, but she’d never seen it in person before.

“Let me look at your leg,” she said.

“Don’t bother. There’s nothing left to heal,” Sokka muttered.

“Just let me see it,” she insisted, pulling the second chair up next to him.

“Fine,” Sokka grumbled, he shifted his leg, prosthetic and all, toward her.

She lifted his leg so it sat across her lap. As much as looking at it pierced her with grief, his prosthetic was beautiful. A masterpiece of craftsmanship.

“You designed this yourself,” she said. A statement, not a question.

“Yeah,” Sokka said. “Toph metalbent it into shape for me.”

“It’s amazing,” she said.

Sokka just huffed.

“Can I…” Katara reached toward the buckles that held the prosthetic to his leg.

Sokka nodded.

Katara gently removed the prosthetic and set it aside. The stump of Sokka’s leg ended in a rough, puckered seam a little below his knee. She swallowed hard.

“They tried to save it,” Sokka said dully. “But the break was too bad. Too many pieces.”

He made a small gesture with his hands, reminiscent of a pot shattering.

“Couldn’t get them to set properly,” he said. “There was no saving it.”

Katara clenched her jaw tight. She could have saved it. She was sure of it.

Instead, she coated her hand in water and placed it against the limb that remained.

It was just as she suspected. When she healed with her waterbending, she could feel the flow of her patients’ chi, and the chi at the seam of Sokka’s leg was a snarled mess. Instead of flowing down the limb and looping back toward his core as it should, it gathered and puddled there, tangled and knotted and trying to reach the limb that wasn’t there anymore. No wonder he had so much phantom pain. His chi still thought there was a limb there.

She coaxed the knots loose. She nudged the flow of energy away from where the limb ended and back up toward his torso. In moments she felt the pressure lessening.

The relief on Sokka’s face was immediate. His jaw relaxed and his eyes fell closed. Katara spent a long moment guiding Sokka’s chi up and down his leg, teaching his energy its new pattern.

“What did you do?” He asked.

“Your chi still thought you had a whole limb there,” she said. “I told it that you don’t anymore.”

Sokka gave a deep, aching sigh of relief. Katara returned her water to her flask. She handed his prosthetic back to him and he buckled it into place. He stood, testing his weight on it with a small, disbelieving smile.

“Let me know if it happens again,” she said. “It might take more than once to make sure your chi remembers the new pattern.”

He took a few steps. Bounced experimentally on his toes.

“It feels so much better, Katara,” he said.

She just gave him a sad smile.

“I wish I had been there,” she said. “I wish I could have helped you when it first happened. Suki too.”

“Hey,” he said. “You’re here now. We’re all going to be ok.”

She wasn’t quite sure that she believed him, but he was right about one thing. At least they were all together again.

“Come on,” he said, holding a hand out to her. “I can’t wait to show you what we’ve been working on.”

 

——————

 

Iroh took Zuko to a small, dark meeting room, deep in the tunnels beneath the temple. It was the safest spot in the whole tower, and the place they gathered to plan.

A long table filled the room, surrounded by a series of mismatched chairs. A map of the four nations was pinned directly onto the wooden tabletop.

Others filtered into the room, the leader of the temple’s initial settlers and his son, a few members of the white lotus, Toph… But all of them waited until Sokka arrived with Katara. Sokka stepped up to the head of the table, and Katara slipped into the seat next to Zuko. He put his arm around her.

“All right then,” Sokka said to the room, “As of last night, phase one of the plan is complete. We’ve shored up our defenses here. We can survive here indefinitely as long as the fire nation continues to think we’ve abandoned the place. And we finally got our last few stragglers out of Caldera.”

He smirked at Zuko and Katara.

“You were waiting for us? Why?” The same question was on Zuko’s tongue, but Katara beat him to it.

“Yes,” Iroh said, “now that the two of you are safely out of the city, we can move more fully into the next phase of our plan.”

“The plan is simple,” Sokka said, taking his seat. “Or at least, the premise is simple.”

Zuko studied at the map on the table in front of them. It was marked several layers deep with fire nation troop movements. The fire nation was everywhere.

“Ba Sing Se was razed from the map on the day of Sozin’s comet,” Sokka went on.

Sokka said it so casually. Like the idea was so commonplace that it had ceased to be remarkable. Zuko felt sick.

“The fire nation colonies in the earth kingdom are only growing larger,” said Sokka. “And there are always more and more fire navy ships in the seas around the northern water tribe. The southern tribes are getting pummeled. We’ve been helping as many of them relocate to the north as we can.”

Beside him, Katara’s breath hitched. Zuko reached for her hand and held it.

“Overall, things look pretty bad,” Sokka concluded.

“So what do we do?” Katara asked quietly.

Sokka met her eyes across the table, “we give the nations their hope back.”

Zuko swallowed hard. His belief in the strength of the earth kingdom, his conviction that they would continue to fight as long as they had hope, was what had resulted -however indirectly- in the destruction of Ba Sing Se. What could any of them do to restore hope in this situation?

“It’s not the kind of thing we’ll be able to do overnight,” Iroh spoke up, nodding to Sokka, “but we need to give the people of the earth and water nations something to believe in.”

“What can they believe in, Uncle?” Zuko asked, despairing. “What do they have left?”

And Iroh smiled, just slightly.

“You, my boy.”

Zuko froze. He felt Katara’s hand tighten around his.

“Me?” He asked. “But I… I’m nothing now. Just a fugitive like everyone else.”

Iroh shook his head, “you are so much more than that, Prince Zuko.”

Toph rolled two scrolls of paper across the table at him. He grabbed them and unrolled them.

His and Katara’s wanted posters. He shared a glance with her.

“By making you public enemies,” Iroh said, “branding you as traitors, the Fire Lord made you into symbols. Knowing that you challenged the Fire Nation, and knowing that you escaped and are still out there somewhere, has the power to give these people hope.”

Zuko thought suddenly of the woman from the market whose cart he’d helped repair. The one who’d recognized him and, instead of turning him in and making a fortune, had helped him and Katara instead.

“We don’t want to tell anyone that you’re safe on our side,” Sokka said. “Not right away, anyway. We’re not strong enough for that. We’d just be inviting the Fire Nation to wipe us out. For now, we need to keep our cards close to our chest and stay deep enough underground that they don’t realize we’re a threat. For now…”

Sokka reached into the bag that hung over the back of his chair.

“There’s another reputation we want to revive,” he said.

And he handed Zuko a Blue Spirit mask.

“We set up the Blue Spirit as a vigilante warrior,” he said. “Someone who helps anyone oppressed by the Fire Nation’s forces.”

“Like the Painted Lady,” Katara breathed.

“Exactly,” Sokka said, nodding to her. “And later, when we’re strong enough, we reveal that the Blue Spirit is the crown prince of the Fire Nation, fighting on our side. It won’t happen overnight, but that’s how you create a revolution. By giving the people someone to rally behind, and something to believe in.”

Zuko ran his hand over the mask.

“It could take years,” Sokka said. “Actually, we expect it to. There’s a lot of ground to cover and a lot of people to reach. But that also gives us time to gather enough strength to win this fight. And-”

Sokka’s voice caught in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head.

“And it gives us time to locate the new Avatar,” Iroh finished for him, “and to let them grow up.”

Aang’s absence had never felt louder. The rest of them -impossibly- had survived. But Aang, sweet, gentle, wonderful Aang, had not. Zuko swallowed his grief.

“We’ll never be able to defeat the Fire Nation by brute force,” Sokka said, recovering his voice. “Not now that the Earth Kingdom has fallen. But a small army, in a precise strike, led by the crown prince and the Avatar, with the general public behind them…? It’s a long play, but it’s the one we might win.”

Zuko shared a glance with Katara. She had a hard, determined look on her face. She nodded.

Zuko’s grip tightened on the mask in his hand, “Let’s do this.”

 

.

Chapter 8: Book 1 - Part 8

Notes:

Ready for an extremely fluffy chapter? I think our babes have earned a fluff chapter. 🤍

Song suggestion for this chapter if you’re into that: “To Someone From a Warm Climate” by Hozier. Which I honestly think is the most exquisitely Zutara coded song to ever exist.

Day 149

 

Zuko had been all over the four nations. His search for the Avatar in his youth had led him to every habitable corner of the world, and even to some of the less habitable ones. He’d considered it a mark of pride that he’d grown accustomed to climates that weren’t the persistent soothing heat of the Fire Nation.

Still, the northern air temple was miserable in the winter. Teo and some of the other initial settlers of the place assured Zuko that it would get better come spring. But that didn’t change the fact that Zuko was always cold.

It was a different kind of cold here than the frigid bite of the lands near the poles. The air, so high in the mountains, had a kind of thin chill that made his lungs ache. And it was so damp here. The kind of cold that set into his bones and refused to dissipate.

He could warm himself, of course. He’d been able to do that since he was a fledging. But that took focus. He couldn’t be focusing on his own internal body temperature all the time. There was too much else to do.

He had no mind for strategy, but he went to every planning meeting anyway. The others would craft brilliant plans, outlining ways to strike against the fire nation and support their neighbors in the earth kingdom and the water tribes. Zuko would listen. Nod along. Make suggestions wherever he could. Mostly he just assured them that yes, he could actually pull off whatever insane plan they’d most recently crafted.

He was the Blue Spirit. The rebellion’s beacon of hope and their rallying cry. Wherever they pointed him, he would go.

In the early weeks after their arrival, Zuko had spent more time away from the temple than at it. The rebellion had a long backlog of potential targets for the Blue Spirit. Supply lines to disrupt and outposts to damage and storehouses to raid and return to the local villagers. Zuko knocked targets down as fast as they could set them up for him. It felt so good to be doing something.

The first time they’d sent him out specifically to kill a particular brigade captain, they’d hesitated to ask. There was a difference between being a vigilante and being an assassin. A razor thin line that Zuko had walked before, if never quite so clearly.

But he’d done it. It hadn’t been the first life he took, but it had felt…different. It haunted him in a different way. They were at war. War was measured in casualties. But their days of facing their enemies head on were over. If this new war was to be fought with knives in the dark, that was how Zuko would fight it.

He knew Uncle’s long term plan for the war was to install Zuko as Fire Lord. He was still heir to the throne by birthright. If enough of the public supported him, and if they were strong enough to take the palace, they could place Zuko on the throne and take the Fire Nation firmly by the reins and no one would be able to stop him. They could stop the war. They could stop all of it.

With every life he took, he thought of the lives they hoped to save. Whether they would balance remained to be seen.

In the meantime, the reward the Fire Nation offered for the capture of the Blue Spirit had already become higher than the amount offered for Zuko himself.

And as strong as Zuko was, they’d quickly realized that there was far too much work for a single person to handle. They adjusted their strategy, to lighten the load placed on Zuko and to protect the identities of the fighters who went on missions with him.

There could only be one Blue Spirit. But even a spirit could have allies.

They crafted dozens of masks, shaped like the Blue Spirit but in every available color. Sokka’s was black. Iroh’s was green. Toph’s was purple. Katara and Suki weren’t going on missions yet (Suki was getting stronger under Katara’s care but she still wasn’t quite ready to rejoin the fight, and Katara was now visibly pregnant and moving a little more slowly through the world,) but they already had masks crafted, ready for them when they were able to return to the field. Suki’s was the pale orange of a sunset.

Katara’s was red.

“If you’re wearing my colors, I’ll wear yours,” she said.

The team of masked spirits, all of them prepared to wreak absolute havoc on Fire Nation, meant that Zuko had more time at Katara’s side.

That night, cups of tea abandoned on the bedside table, Zuko pulled Katara into his chest, her back pressed against him and his chin resting lightly on her shoulder. She gave a sleepy little hum and nestled back closer against him. He pressed a soft kiss against her cheek.

The warmth of their bed, his legs twined with Katara’s as the heat of their shared closeness warmed the space beneath their blankets, was the only place where he never felt cold.

Zuko pressed kisses to the back of Katara’s neck. Her hand came up and caressed his cheek.

“I love you,” she breathed.

“I love you too.”

His hand traced the line of her hip and settled low and soft on her rounded belly. As their child grew, Katara’s body became firmer in some places, and softer in others. She breathed a soft sigh and melted into his touch.

They had months yet before their child arrived, but they were growing. Toph could sense their heartbeat now. Katara said she felt them move sometimes.

It was astounding how happy this made him. By all accounts, he should be terrified. And in some ways, he was. He worried constantly about what kind of world this child would grow up in. He wondered if it would ever be possible to keep their little one safe, even here within the temple. And in darker moments, fighting fears so awful he barely admitted them to himself, he worried about what kind of father he would be.

“Zuko?” Katara breathed his name.

“Hmm?”

“Are you ok?”

He realized that his fingers had closed tightly around the fabric of her shift, bunching it in his hand. She twined her fingers between his and he loosened his grip. His knotted fist became a soft hand again.

“Sorry,” he said.

“What is it?”

He took a deep, steadying breath, “It’s nothing.”

“Zuko,” she said his name in a soft, gently admonishing way that meant she saw right through his attempt to deflect her.

He folded his arms around her, curling himself around the curve of her back. Comforting himself. Protecting her. Protecting her from what? He wasn’t sure he even knew.

“I’m just scared,” he said.

“About what?”

“About…”

He hesitated. She was the one carrying their child. It wasn’t fair to her to burden her with his worries about being able to care for their son or daughter. It didn’t matter that he was scared. He would do whatever it took, despite his fear. He would do whatever he had to do to be a better father than the one he’d had.

Granted, “don’t burn and banish your child” was a pretty easy hurdle to clear. But there were so many ways to screw this up. And Zuko was really good at screwing things up.

“Zuko,” Katara prompted gently, “About what?”

He pressed his forehead into the soft hollow where her neck met her shoulder.

“What if I’m a terrible father?” He said.

“Zuko…”

She took one of his hands in hers and kissed it, lovingly brushing the heel of his palm with her lips.

“You’ll be wonderful,” she said.

“How do you know?” He asked, his voice choked.

“Because of how much you love,” she said. “How much you love me, and how you love your Uncle and our friends. You… you love harder than anyone I know.”

“But this is different.”

“How?”

Her question was gentle, and Zuko realized he didn’t have an answer.

“In the water tribes, we have a saying,” Katara went on, “that love is like a spring that feeds a river. And no matter how many channels that river has, there will always be enough water. You can carve new banks, and the water will come to fill it. There will always be enough.”

She took his hand and placed it back on her belly.

“Our child is another channel in your river,” she said. “And you have more than enough love.”

He softened against her, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the rise of her belly. If he was a river, Katara was an ocean. She held love and gave it back to those around her in a way that was absolutely, profoundly measureless.

Suddenly Katara gave a small gasp.

“Zuko,” she said.

He tensed, but she just picked up his hand and moved it to a different place on her belly. And something small and strong bumped against his hand from under Katara’s skin.

Zuko’s eyes filled with tears.

“Katara…” he said.

She turned her head to meet his lips. The child in her belly moved again. Zuko thought his heart might leap out of his chest.

“I love you so much,” he said against her lips.

She kissed him deeply.

“I love you too.”

 

—————————

 

Day 152

 

Katara wasn’t allowed to do so much as lift a finger whenever Iroh was around. No matter how much she protested, assuring him that yes, she was pregnant, but she’d honestly been feeling great lately, he insisted she sit down with her feet up anytime he caught her working.

And that was how Katara found herself seated at her own kitchen table, her feet propped on a cushion on the opposite chair, a cup of fresh tea in front of her, while the Dragon of the West hung up their laundry and watched over the rice she’d set to cook over the hearth fire.

Iroh stepped back up to the table, placing a wooden bowl near Katara’s elbow. It held a winter apple, a rare treat in the depths of the season, peeled and sliced perfectly.

“Thank you,” she said, dipping her head to him, warmth spreading through her chest in a way that had nothing to do with the crackling of the hearth.

“For you my dear?” He said. “Anything.”

He returned to the fire and gave the rice another stir.

Katara savored the crisp, tart slices of apple. She watched Iroh bustle around her kitchen, humming to himself.

The door opened, admitting Zuko

“Zuko!” Iroh said. “Everything is nearly ready.”

Katara caught the sly wink that Iroh gave him. He hadn’t even attempted to be subtle.

“Ready for what?” She asked.

Zuko shifted nervously from foot to foot in a way that was deeply unlike him. He didn’t answer her question.

Iroh crossed to Zuko, clapping him on the shoulder, “I’ll give you two your space.”

“Actually,” Katara spoke up quickly before he could leave. She caught Zuko’s eye, “we had something we wanted to ask you.”

Iroh gave her a strange look, “something to ask me? What on earth could you have to ask your ancient uncle right now?”

“Zuko and I were talking yesterday,” she said. “About the baby.”

“Yes?” Iroh queried.

Zuko came over to stand behind her, his hands on her shoulders, a smile on his face. She thought she saw him slip something into his pocket as he did.

“We…” she lowered her hand to her belly. “We’d like the baby to call you Grandfather, when they’re old enough. If you’re willing.”

Iroh froze, and for a moment, Katara thought she’d wounded him somehow. Indeed, his eyes grew wet with tears. But he also smiled, beaming like she’d just promised him the entire world.

“My dears,” he said, his voice choked with emotion, “it would be my honor.”

Katara smiled. Iroh met her in a firm embrace. Katara felt tears gathering in her own eyes as well. But then, nearly everything made her cry lately. Iroh released her and met Zuko in an equally crushing hug.

Katara was glad to know their child would have at least one amazing grandparent. Their child’s grandmothers were already gone from the world, and of their two living grandparents… Hakoda was alive and safe in the Northern Water Tribe, but he likely wouldn’t be around often enough to watch his grandchild grow up. And the other… well, the other was Fire Lord Ozai.

But they would have Iroh. And that would be enough.

Iroh released Zuko, clearing his throat and brushing at his eyes. He said something to Zuko, too low for her to hear, and Zuko nodded.

“I’ll be on my way,” Iroh said.

“You don’t have to go,” Katara protested.

“Oh I think you’ll find that I do,” Iroh said.

That mischievous look was back in his eyes. Zuko walked him to the door. There was a tense set to Zuko’s shoulders, and when he turned back to Katara, he had a little paper box in his hand. He sat down across from her. His eyes kept darting anxiously from the little box, up to her, and back down again.

“Katara?” He said, chewing on his lip and looking at her with a curious, pining expression.

“What is it?” She asked, concerned.

“I…ah…” he said, “I made something for you.”

He held out the box.

“I mean, Toph made it, actually,” he went on. “But I told her what I wanted it to look like. It’s…uh…”

He stopped. He set the box on the table and pushed it toward her. She took it, but stopped with her hand on the lid. He was just so nervous.

“What is it?” She asked.

“It’s a gift. It’s part of Fire Nation…ah…” his cheeks flushed a brilliant red, “…proposals.”

She looked up at him, her mouth falling open a little.

“It’s supposed to be a whole series of gifts,” he added, rambling now, “most of which I can’t really get here. Not the kind I need anyway. But one of those gifts is supposed to be gold jewelry, for abundance. Ceramics for provision, clothing for security, and gold for abundance. And I thought…”

Katara pried the lid off the box. Inside was a small gold pendant, molded in the style of a water tribe betrothal necklace. On one side was the symbol for water. On the other, the symbol for fire.

“I thought you could add it to your necklace,” Zuko said. “If you…if you want.”

She threw her arms around his neck. He caught her and held her close. She could feel his heart racing in his chest. She kissed him.

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Of course you idiot!”

He kissed her, his hands firm on the small of her back. Hers cradled his face. His lips on hers, feeling safe in his arms…Katara wanted nothing more than this. To be his, and to let him be hers, for however long their lives and loves lasted.

She untied her mother’s necklace from its place around her throat. Zuko held the ribbon steady while she threaded the new pendant into place. It rattled against the original lightly as Zuko gently re-tied it around her neck.

His hand brushed the pendant, then slipped up to cradle her cheek.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”

The pot of rice on the hearth boiled over, and they let it.

 

—————————

Day 160

 

There was no sense in waiting. They couldn’t have planned a grand wedding even if they’d wanted to. The only reason they even waited the week or so that they did was because Sokka was away on a mission, and there was no way they were going to celebrate without him.

Katara would get married in a borrowed dress. It was a stunning kimono in an earth kingdom style, loaned to her by one of the air temple’s early settlers. Many of the women at the temple came to her with things to borrow, jewelry and hairpieces and a stunning pair of beaded slippers, all of them as desperate as her for this moment of normalcy. This moment of hope for the future.

Dressed in the finery of an entire community, Katara felt stunning. The dress couldn’t hide the bump of her growing belly, but she found she didn’t want it to. She felt beautiful. She felt treasured.

She braided her hair back in a traditional southern water tribe style, and Sokka helped her with the braids. His hands were soft in her hair as she sat in front of a looking glass, watching her reflection, and his.

Tears gathered in her eyes, and she quickly brushed them away before they could mar the line of paint Suki had used to frame her eyes.

“Hey,” Sokka said. “Are you ok?”

Not trusting herself to speak, Katara just nodded. So many emotions fought for dominance in her chest. She was so happy, and so grateful, and… and she missed their home. She’d always imagined she’d get married at the South Pole, among her tribe.

Sokka quickly tied off the last braid and came around in front of her, pulling up a chair.

“You ok?” He asked again.

Her breath shook a little as she nodded.

“I…” she brushed at her eyes again, “I just wish Dad were here.”

Sokka’s face fell a little. He got up and pulled her to her feet, tugging her into a hug.

“Me too,” he said.

Katara hid her face in her brother’s shoulder.

“For what it’s worth…” Sokka said softly, “I think he’d be really proud of you.”

And Katara did cry then, letting her tears fall freely as Sokka’s grip tightened around her. She missed home and their family, but Sokka was here, and she was marrying Zuko today, and that filled her with a joy she couldn’t even begin to express.

“I’m so happy, Sokka,” she said at length. “Thank you. For…for everything.”

She picked up her head, and he let her go. His own eyes were a little glassy as he smiled at her. He brushed at something in her cheek.

“Did I ruin the paint?” Katara asked with a little laugh, turning back to the mirror.

Sure enough, there were smudges under both eyes. She wiped at them with her thumb but they only smeared more.

“Hold on, I’ll grab Suki,” Sokka said.

He crossed to the door and stuck his head out into the hall. He reappeared with Suki a few moments later. Suki was up on her own two feet, a cane gripped in one hand for balance, but upright and steady.

Suki made a little tisking sound with her tongue, “I told you no crying!”

“Sorry,” Katara said with a little laugh.

Suki shook her head with a smile, “I’m only joking. It’s your wedding day. You can cry as much as you want to.”

She reached for the tools she’d left on the table and began fixing and reapplying Katara’s makeup.

“You ready for this?” She asked softly.

Katara took a deep breath. Then, with a smile, she nodded.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” she said.

Suki smiled. She threw her arms around Katara.

“I’m so happy for you,” she said. “For both of you.”

Sokka walked up to them then. He held an elbow out to Katara.

“Ready?” He asked.

And Katara took her brother’s arm.

 

———————

 

Zuko paced, his hands clasped behind his back so he wouldn’t fidget. He was dressed in the best they could muster here at the air temple. No formal robes or elaborate headpieces for him, not even on the day of his wedding.

He hadn’t imagined this day, not in the way some did, but he’d grown up with expectations and understandings. He’d pictured a massive royal wedding worthy of a crown prince, to a woman chosen for him for political purposes. A woman he liked, if he was lucky. A woman he loved…? He’d barely allowed himself to even think of it.

What was before him today, a small ceremony tying him to a woman he treasured more than life itself, was unexpected, and exquisite.

Toph stepped up next to him.

“How you doing, Sparks?” She asked. “Nervous?”

She could undoubtedly feel the way his heart raced in his chest. But Zuko wasn’t nervous. Somehow, this was the easiest choice he had ever made.

“No,” he said. “I’m not nervous. I’m ready.”

Toph hugged him. Then she punched him.

“Good, because Suki just told me Katara’s ready,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Zuko followed her out into the courtyard. There was a chill in the air, but the sun was warm and bright. He took in the small assembled crowd, his closest friends, and those he and Katara had grown close to during their months at the temple so far. Toph gave his wrist a soft squeeze and went to join the crowd. Zuko crossed the courtyard to the hall where he knew Katara would be waiting.

Uncle was already there. He held out his arms and Zuko threw himself into them.

“I’m so proud of you, my boy,” Uncle Iroh said.

Zuko held his uncle a little tighter.

“All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy,” Uncle said, stepping back and holding Zuko by the shoulders, “and Katara seems to make you very happy.”

“She does, Uncle,” he said. “She… makes me happier than I’ve ever been.”

And it was true. For all that their world was twisted and broken by his forefathers’ war, being with Katara made Zuko happy. Happy in a way he hadn’t even known existed before he met her.

Uncle Iroh smiled at him, “good. Good.”

He clapped Zuko on the shoulder. Then his eyes softened, and he gestured over Zuko’s shoulder with his chin.

Zuko turned.

And Katara was there. She held onto Sokka’s elbow, and she was beaming at him like maybe he was the the most important thing in the entire world. His chest hurt a little, looking at her -happy and smiling and beautiful- but in a way that felt like coming together, rather than falling apart.

He crossed to her in two steps and took her hands in his. She looked up at him, eyes shining, and he put one hand against her soft, smiling face.

“I love you,” he said. It was all that he could think to say.

“I love you too,” she said.

Sokka and Uncle Iroh slipped off to join the crowd. Right. They had a ceremony to do. If he looked at Katara for even another second he might burst into tears.

He held his arm out to her. She threaded her arm through his. He put his hand on top of hers.

Together, they walked across the courtyard. Their friends, Sokka, Suki, Toph, Uncle… all looked on with so much joy. They reached the end of the aisle and knelt in front of a low table decked with burning incense. A sage led them through a series of traditional vows: ones that he and Katara had chosen ahead of time, a collection of promises from across the cultures of all four nations. Promising to cherish and care for one another. To protect each other. To hold to one another even as the world changed around them.

Zuko’s hand shook as he placed a small golden ring on Katara’s hand. Her touch, placing one on his, trembled.

“Whatever happens,” he said to her, low and quiet, just for them, “I will love you. I promise.”

“Whatever happens,” she said, “I promise.”

And they sealed their promise with their lips.

 

.

Chapter 9: Book 1 - Part 9

Notes:

Cw: childbirth. Not graphic but y’all it’s about that time!

Day 267

 

Katara was very pregnant.

Any day, the healers told her. Any day now they would get to meet their little one.

Katara just hoped their little one would wait until their father got back.

Zuko was already two days overdue from a mission in the villages near Omashu. They’d received a letter via messenger hawk from them yesterday, so she knew that they were safe, but they were stuck on the edges of an earth kingdom village until a fire nation brigade rolled through. They couldn’t risk returning to the air temple when they might be spotted and followed.

Just then the baby kicked. Hard. Katara grunted and dropped her hand to her belly. Suki, a few paces away working through her fan forms, turned to her. Someone was always with her, ever since Zuko had left for his latest mission. So someone would be with her in case the baby decided it was time.

“Everything ok?” Suki asked her.

“Yeah,” Katara said, rubbing at the place the baby had kicked. “They’re moving around a lot.”

“Your little fighter,” Suki said with a soft smile, crossing back to Katara and sitting down next to her.

The baby would be born into a world at war, just like Katara had herself, and probably would be a fighter. But she planned on doing everything in her power to make sure this child never had to be a soldier.

The baby kicked again, and Katara reached for Suki’s hand and placed it against her belly so she could feel it too. Suki smiled.

“It’ll be pretty awesome,” Suki said, “Having a little person join our weird little family.”

Katara smiled at that, “Yeah. It’ll be amazing.”

Suki’s face still had that thoughtful smile.

“Have you ever wanted kids?” Katara asked.

Suki chuckled and shook her head, “Nah.”

“I think you’d be a great mom,” Katara offered.

“Oh I would be. The best. But…” Suki shrugged, “I’ve never wanted it. Motherhood, I mean. And it seems unfair to the kid to not be sure.”

Katara nodded understandingly.

“Auntie Suki though?” Suki said with a grin. “I’ll do that every damn day for the rest of my life.”

Katara smiled. Between Aunt Suki and Uncle Sokka and Auntie Toph and Grandfather Iroh… Spirits, this kid was going to be so loved. And that didn’t even account for Zuko. He was going to be the best father.

If only he arrived on time for the birth.

Katara’s face fell and she wrapped her arms protectively around her belly again.

“Hey,” Suki said, catching the look on her face. “He’ll be here.”

Katara pressed her lips together and nodded. Suki stood, holding out her hands to Katara.

“Come on,” she said. “You’ve been sitting all morning. Time for some tai chi.”

Katara took Suki’s hands and let her pull her to her feet. While Suki had been growing strong again, Katara had been growing soft and unbalanced. Some gentle tai chi was about all the physical activity she could manage lately. She couldn’t wait to get this kid out of her body and into the world.

Just not before Zuko got back.

 

——————

 

Zuko paced their hideout like an animal in a cage.

“My god Pout-Face just sit down!”

Zuko rounded on Toph, who was lounging on her back like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Pout-Face?” He grumbled. That was a new one.

“The more you growl at me the better it fits you, Pout-Face.”

“That’s rich coming from you, you lazy… um… earth…puncher?”

Toph sat up and gave him a blank look, “how are you getting worse at that?”

Zuko groaned and sat down on the floor.

“Relax,” Toph told him. “It’ll be fine. The mission went off without a hitch. The brigade will move out tomorrow, and tomorrow night should be dark enough for us to fly back to the temple.”

Zuko rubbed at his forehead with his thumbs. Toph was right. Their mission had gone about as well as it could. They were sheltering outside the city now, an easy task when on missions with Toph, who had a knack for carving caves into the sides of hills when they needed to hide. Some careful eavesdropping had told them that the brigade’s orders were to move out at dawn. Once the brigade was gone, they could fly back to the temple as soon as the sky was dark enough to hide them.

But every second of delay made Zuko more and more worried about Katara. He hadn’t wanted to leave the temple this close to the end of her pregnancy, but they’d insisted that the Blue Spirit’s presence was absolutely necessary on this mission and now he was stuck out here and who knew what was happening back at home where his pregnant wife was waiting for him and-

“Zuko. Breathe. I can feel your blood pressure going up from here.”

He forced himself to take a deep breath. He leaned back against the wall of their little cave. Toph came over and flopped down next to him.

“You’re worried about Katara,” she said.

“You think?!” He growled.

She glared at him.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s ok,” Toph said. “It just means you love her.”

Zuko’s breath caught in his throat. He loved her so much. If he missed the birth of their child, after everything they’d been through…

“She’ll be ok,” Toph said. “We’ll get back in time.”

“And if we don’t?”

“She’ll still be ok. She’s tough as rocks. And that’s coming from an earth-puncher so you know I mean it.”

Zuko chuckled.

“And she’s got Suki and Sokka and Iroh,” Toph went on. “She’ll be ok.”

Zuko tipped his head back against the wall. She would be ok no matter what. He knew that. But he would die if he wasn’t there for her when she needed him.

Toph punched him in the arm.

“Stop beating yourself up,” she said. “That’s my friend. And that’s my job.”

Zuko laughed again, “thanks Toph.”

“Anytime Pout-Face.”

He shoved her. She shoved him back with earthbending, sending him skidding away across the dirt floor. He laughed a little as he picked himself up, brushing off his clothes.

There was nothing else for it. They were stuck here for at least another twenty four hours.

“So,” he said, “if we’re stuck here for another day, and that brigade isn’t leaving until tomorrow…” he smirked. “Want to go fuck with their machinery?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Toph tossed him his mask.

 

——————

 

Day 269

 

Katara couldn’t sleep. She’d been stiff and uncomfortable all night. Her back ached and feet and legs were sore and every time she got comfortable she had to shift again a few minutes later. The soft glow of light from their single, high window let her know that it was nearly dawn. Was it even worth trying to go back to sleep at this point?

Softly, the door opened.

“Zuko?” She called, picking herself up on her elbows.

“Katara!”

And he was at her side. Zuko dropped to his knees next to the bed and threw his arms around her. Katara clung to him. He smelled of sweat and hot metal and airship soot but he was here. He was safe. He was home.

She kissed him. He planted kisses all over her face. On her cheeks and her forehead and her closed eyelids and finally on her lips again.

“You made it,” she breathed.

“I made it,” he said.

He kicked off his boots, shed his dusty overcoat, and climbed into bed next to her. She nestled into him, tucking herself against his side. His arm settled around her shoulders. She tangled her fingers with his.

“I was so afraid we wouldn’t get back in time,” he said.

She felt his lips on the top of her head. She pressed herself a little closer to him. His free hand settled on her very round belly. It was easier to relax with him here. Breathing felt simpler. The sheer warmth of him was a balm on her aching muscles.

“It went well?” She asked, letting her eyes fall closed as she rested against him. “The mission?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “We even got to hit that brigade before it moved out. Two for one.”

Katara hummed sleepily, “good.”

Apparently, all she needed in order to rest was to have him at her side. He told her soft stories about the antics he and Toph had gotten up to, and Katara let his voice lull her back to sleep.

 

———————

 

Day 271

 

Katara couldn’t get her boots on.

Between her swollen ankles and the massive bump of her belly, getting her boots on was an impossible challenge on par with knocking the moon out of the sky.

Which, granted, Katara had seen happen once. Which meant getting her boots on would also be possible.

She growled at her boots like the enemies they were and tried again.

And then Zuko was there, on his knees in front of her, taking her boot from her hand and guiding it over her foot. She pouted at him as he put her shoes on for her and laced them up, like she was a child.

“Thanks,” she said grumpily.

He smiled up at her. Despite herself, she smiled back. He stood up.

Just then, she felt the muscles of her abdomen tighten. It was just a cramp, but she shifted, trying to stretch, and pressed her hand to the muscles with a wince.

“Katara?” Zuko bent over her again, concern on his face.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Even as she said it, the tightness eased. False labor. She’d been having more and more of those cramps lately.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Zuko asked. “We can stay here and rest.”

Katara shook her head, “No, I want to go. It’ll go away once I move.”

It always eased again once she moved around a little. And they were just going across the courtyard to meet Iroh. Zuko looked skeptical, but he nodded and pulled her to her feet. She steadied herself with one hand on the small of her back. She looped her other arm around Zuko’s.

“Let’s go,” she said.

They had barely stepped outside when the pain in her abdomen came again. And this one didn’t feel like a cramp. This one felt like pain. Katara stopped, a little gasp escaping her lips as her hand flew to her belly.

“Katara?”

Zuko turned to her, his hands taking hold of her shoulders as she gave a little grunt of pain. Yeah, this was definitely not false labor. She couldn’t believe she had ever mistaken those for the real thing.

“Zuko,” she said, as the pain eased, “I was wrong. I think this is for real.”

His eyes went wide with something like terror for just a brief second. Then he nodded.

“Ok,” he said. “Ok. What do we do?”

“Zuko! Katara!”

Sokka jogged up to them, a piece of parchment in his hand and a messenger hawk still on his shoulder. He had a huge grin on his face, even as the hawk ruffled its feathers indignantly and nipped at his ear.

“It happened!” Sokka shouted, sliding to a stop next to them, “it’s already happening!”

“Sokka this is not the time-” Zuko snapped.

“Look!” Sokka cut him off, holding out the paper, “This just came from one of our contacts in Omashu. There was a warrior in a green spirit mask that attacked a guard outpost there!”

“So?” Zuko growled impatiently.

“So,” Sokka said. “They’re not one of ours! We don’t have any spirits in Omashu right now. This is a civilian who was inspired to put on a mask and help! We hoped it would happen and it’s already happening!”

“That’s great Sokka but now is not the time!” Zuko pressed.

“Why?” Sokka quipped, folding his arms over his chest, “Are you doing something important today?”

“I think I’m having a baby today,” Katara said, her hands still on her belly.

“You’re having a baby today?” Sokka threw his arms in the air. The paper and the hawk both went flying, “Why didn’t you say so?”

Katara felt her muscles tighten again with a ripple of pain. She let out a slow breath and reached for Zuko. He took her by both arms, his hands under her elbows.

“What do we do?” Sokka demanded. “What can I do?”

“Go to the infirmary,” Katara said, between breaths. “Ask for Kiyo. Tell her to come by here.”

“Yes,” Sokka said. “Infirmary. Kiyo. Got it. Going!”

Sokka sprinted off. Katara looked up at Zuko. He looked at her. His grip tightened on her arms.

“What do we do?” Zuko asked.

Katara took a deep breath.

“We go back inside,” she said. “And we have a baby.”

 

———————

 

Zuko knew, intellectually, that giving birth took a long time. He’d hounded Uncle with questions and had gleaned even more from other men at the temple who were also fathers.

But he had not been prepared to watch Katara hurting like this. Not for this long. Not with so little he could do.

The pain came over her in waves. The more time passed, the worse they became, and the less time she got to rest between them.

He did everything he could to make her comfortable. He walked with her for as long as she wanted to be upright and moving. He’d drawn her a hot bath when someone said that might help. He pressed firm, warm hands against the knotted muscles in her neck, shoulders, and back. He held her every time the pain washed over her.

The others came by in turns, helping and supporting however they could. Sokka and Toph and Suki and Iroh. But Zuko never once left Katara’s side.

“Breathe,” he reminded her as she braced herself against the latest wave of pain.

She gasped for air and tried to even out her breaths, her eyes pinched tightly closed.

Kiyo, the woman from the infirmary, had given Zuko a little sand clock. She’d told him to bring Katara to the infirmary when her pains started coming more quickly than the sands could run out.

Now, Katara released his hand, unwinding against him as the pain that gripped her loosened its hold. She leaned back against his chest, her head tipping back toward his shoulder, her eyes shut tight, breathing deep and heavy with exhaustion.

Zuko restarted the little sand timer.

It was only three-quarters empty when pain swept her up again. Katara curled into herself, her hands on the rise of her belly. Zuko held her close, combing his fingers soothingly through her hair. She let out a low moan of pain, teeth clenched. It seemed like an age before she relaxed against him again.

"Time to go," he said softly.

She opened her eyes, "Really?"

"Yeah," he said. "Let’s get you to the infirmary."

He kissed her forehead. It was damp with her sweat. He helped her sit up, and then to her feet. He reached for her, putting his arm around her waist.

They made it about two steps before she doubled over in pain again. He pulled her to him and she sagged against him, her arms around his neck and her forehead down on his chest.

There was nothing her waterbending could do here. Nothing to heal. She wasn’t injured, she’d explained. There was no wound. Her body was doing what it was supposed to do.

Which was obscene. How on earth was this, this much pain, a natural thing?

He held her.

When the wave passed, he swept her up into his arms. She threaded her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. He carried her to the infirmary as quickly as he could.

The healers were ready for them when they arrived. A room set up just for them with a freshly made bed that Zuko lowered Katara into.

"Looks like we’re about ready to meet your little one," Kiyo said, stepping up to the bedside.

Katara managed a tired smile, which melted into a grimace. Zuko reached for Katara’s hand as the pain pulled her from him again. A new sound tore from her. A deep cry that was almost a growl. Her grip on his hand tightened. Zuko leaned in, brushing her hair tenderly from her face, feeling worse than helpless.

"That’s it, my girl," Kiyo said. "Push."

And she did. Katara was exhausted, wrung out with everything she’d endured, but she did.

"Zuko…" she breathed his name.

He pulled her hand into his chest, "I’m right here. You can do this."

She took several, heaving breaths. She cried out.

"Zuko," she said his name again, but this time it was more like a sob.

He pressed a firm, frantic kiss to her forehead.

He kept up a steady stream of quiet encouragement. She held his hand and groaned and screamed and fought.

And at last, with a final fierce cry, her head thrown back, another cry filled the room.

Their child.

Katara gasped for breath. Zuko ran his hand over her hair and kissed her damp cheek.

"It’s a girl," Kiyo said.

Their daughter.

And Kiyo handed their baby girl to Katara.

She was wrapped in a bright red blanket, the luckiest color, and she was tiny, strong, and perfect. She was squalling fit to wake the dead, announcing her arrival at the top of her voice. Katara held her against her chest, eyes shining. Without taking his gaze off their baby girl, Zuko kissed Katara’s cheek again. He didn’t realize he was crying until he reached up to brush tears from his cheeks.

She had Katara’s eyes. Bright, glorious blue.

"What will you call her?" Kiyo asked.

"Her name is Izumi," Katara replied.

They’d considered any number of namesakes. Zuko’s mother, or Katara’s. But in the end, they’d decided that maybe the name of someone they’d lost was too much of a burden for such a small life. She deserved her own name. To make her own future.

Zuko couldn’t stop crying. But it was all in joy.

And then Katara handed Izumi to him.

Zuko took his daughter carefully into his arms. He held her gently, reverently. And in that moment it was like gravity itself shifted. His world suddenly and unavoidably tipped toward Katara and Izumi. The strongest bonds in the world weren’t the ones holding him to the earth. They were the ones connecting him to the incredible woman he loved more than life itself, and to their child.

They were his family, and he would do anything in the world for them.

 

 

~ End of Book 1 ~

Notes:

And here we are friends! End of Book 1. See you next week for the start of Book 2. Thanks for reading along. Y’all are the best. 🤍🤍

Chapter 10: Book 2 - Part 1

Notes:

Welcome to Book 2! Y’all I’m so excited to get into this next layer of story with you.

Time for Izumi’s Avatar journey to commence. Let’s goooooo!

Year 11, Day 302

 

Zuko had known from the first moment he held his daughter that she would be a waterbender. She had her mother’s eyes. Her mother’s spirit. Wait and see, Uncle had told him, anything is possible. But Zuko had known.

And when Izumi started bending when she was barely a toddler, water going everywhere during a particularly prodigious tantrum, no one had been surprised. Least of all Zuko and Katara.

Izumi was nearly eleven now, and already a bending prodigy. But that wasn’t a surprise either. Katara was one of the strongest waterbenders in the world. Zuko’s ancestry was nearly all benders on both sides, going all the way back to Avatar Roku. Bending ran in every drop of Izumi’s blood.

And she had far more teachers than just Katara. Zuko taught her his firebender katas for strength, breath control, and precision. He had her training on dual wielding with a pair of kali sticks now too. Nothing with a sharp edge yet, but she would be ready for that too before long. Aunt Suki and Uncle Sokka were always around to teach her the finer points of fans and swords and boomerangs. Auntie Toph mostly taught her curse words.

Iroh taught her to meditate, to play pai sho, and to love tea. Izumi called him Grandfather, and no one, least of all Iroh, ever corrected her.

Not that they kept secrets from her. She was aware that her real grandfather was Fire Lord Ozai. But “real” had many meanings, and to Izumi, her real Grandfather was the one who served her lotus tea on her birthdays and let her win at pai sho sometimes.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad? Dad!"

"Yes, Izumi?"

He turned to find her right at his side, bouncing on her toes.

"I have something to show you!" She said.

He smiled, "All right. What have you got?"

Honestly, it could be anything. Probably a new waterbending trick she’d figured out. This level of excitement usually meant a new bending trick. Whatever it was, he couldn’t wait to see it. She was a masterpiece at everything she did. And he swore that that assessment was only, like, 30% blind parental pride.

"Dad, watch!" She called, stepping out into the open space of the courtyard.

"I’m watching!" He called back.

He watched, baffled, as Izumi worked through a classic firebender’s kata. It was the one he’d taught her almost as soon as she could walk. He’d seen her do it a thousand times.

But as she completed it, throwing all her weight and breath behind the final punch, a small puff of flame shot from her fist.

Izumi beamed at him.

Zuko froze.

Izumi learned several new curse words.

 

————————

 

Katara had been sure that Izumi would be a firebender.

Izumi had Katara’s eyes (Kya’s eyes, Gran Gran’s eyes…) but the rest of her was all Zuko. From the shape of her face to the sheen of her hair to the way her forehead wrinkled when she focused, just like Zuko’s did. She’d been her father’s daughter from the moment she took her first breath. Even as a newborn she’d always settled fastest, been her happiest self, when she rested against Zuko’s chest.

Firebender warmth. Soothing and safe.

Katara didn’t mind. She could -and would, and did- watch Zuko fall asleep with Izumi already dozing against his chest hundreds of times and never tire of it. She never once tired of watching them treasure one another.

But when Izumi had revealed herself as a waterbender, Katara couldn’t help but feel a little victorious. She taught her daughter everything she knew.

Well, nearly everything. Izumi was too young yet. She deserved a few more years of innocence before she learned the worst of what her power was capable of.

Katara was at the kitchen table, mending another one of Izumi’s tunics, when Zuko barreled into their rooms, startling her. He had a frantic, drawn look on his face. She leapt to her feet.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

He threw his arms around her. Her fear redoubled. Her heart began to race.

“What happened?” She asked, already imagining dozens of horrid scenarios.

Every muscle of him was taut with tension. He took a breath that shuddered.

“Zuko, you’re scaring me,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

He picked up his head. He pressed a firm kiss to her cheek.

“Sit down,” he said, a haunted look in his eyes.

Katara returned to the table.

“Where’s Izumi?” She asked.

“With Toph,” Zuko replied, sitting down across from her. “She’s fine. Katara…”

She watched him gather himself. He took all the fear and pain that permeated his every move and shoved it all away somewhere. She started to reach for his hand.

“Izumi is the Avatar,” he said.

She froze.

“…What?” She managed.

Zuko’s gaze was glued to the table.

“Izumi,” he said. “She’s the Avatar.”

Words died in Katara’s throat. She couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

But of course it was possible. She’d already been pregnant with Izumi when Aang had fallen. The next nation in the Avatar cycle was the Water Tribe.

But she couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

“No,” Katara said aloud. “She can’t be.”

“I saw her firebend, Katara,” Zuko said. “She used both elements right in front of me. She’s-”

He swallowed hard.

“She’s the Avatar,” he said. “Izumi is the Avatar.”

“…No!”

Katara got up from the table, a cold, icy rage building in her chest.

“No,” she said again. “No, no, no!”

She wanted to throw something. To shatter something. She stalked across the room, not sure where she was going.

Zuko got up, reaching for her. She pushed him away.

“No,” Katara said. “Our girl. She can’t be…”

From the moment Izumi had been born Katara had fought to keep her safe. To prepare her for the world she’d been born into, but to keep her safe. To shelter her from the worst of the war in the way no one had been able to do for Katara when she was small. To make sure she never had to be a soldier.

And now Izumi was the Avatar. Izumi was the key the White Lotus had been searching for from the moment Aang fell. Izumi, their Izumi, was the weapon they needed to win the war.

Zuko reached for her again, and this time Katara threw herself into his arms.

“Izumi,” she said into his chest, “our girl. Our baby…”

He said nothing. He just put his head down on her shoulder.

Everything they’d done for her. Everything they’d done to shelter her, it was worth nothing now. Izumi was the Avatar. Destined for the front lines of the war.

It wasn’t fair.

It made her furious.

 

——————

 

With Izumi sent off to her afternoon lessons, Zuko called up their friends. He knew Sokka and Iroh usually met around this time to discuss strategies, so all he and Katara had to do was track down Toph and Suki.

The four of them approached the little meeting room where Iroh could usually be found when he was working.

Sokka, as expected, was already there. The rest of them filtered into the room, seating themselves around the table. Toph laughed at something Suki said. Zuko remained standing.

“We might want to start searching the earth kingdom,” Sokka was saying, leaning over some ledgers and talking to Iroh, “for all we know they were killed in the Midnight Sun Massacre. It might be time to start looking at the next nation in the cycle. I think we should-”

“Oh are we talking about the Avatar?” Zuko interrupted, “Great. Because it’s Izumi.”

They all fell silent. Suki and Toph turned to him with aghast expressions.

Iroh was the first to recover his voice. He took his little pair of reading spectacles off his nose and set them down on the table.

“Come again, nephew?” He said.

“Izumi,” Zuko said. “She’s the Avatar.”

 

——————

 

11 years earlier

 

Iroh lifted his granddaughter from her cradle as she began to fuss.

The little treasure had her mother’s eyes. Her father’s high cheekbones. Skin a warm brown, closer to Katara’s shade than Zuko’s. A little tuft of shining black hair already covering her head.

Izumi was beautiful. And despite everything, she gave him hope.

Iroh bounced the tiny girl in his arms, soothing her. The exhausted young parents were in bed, curled into each other in the heavy sleep of those whose only moments of rest were stolen ones. It was ok. This restless phase of Izumi’s would pass. It always did.

Children always grew up too fast.

Iroh shifted Izumi so she rested against his shoulder. He started to pace the room, slowly rocking her.

“Leaves from the vine,” he sang softly under his breath, “falling so slow…”

This lullaby had soothed Lu Ten. It had comforted Zuko and even Azula, when she’d still been young and gentle enough to accept it from him. Now it would shelter Izumi too.

“Brave soldier boy, comes marching home…”

Izumi was a child of the war. They could try to shield her from it, but it would come for her anyway. Iroh knew this better than most.

Which was worse? Letting a child grow up naively unprepared for the world she lived in, good as painting a target on her back, or allowing her to grow up too quickly, to be a warrior or a weapon.

Iroh knew what happened when children became soldiers. He’d watched it happen to every child he had ever cared about. It had wounded Zuko beyond belief. It had turned Azula into a tyrant. It had taken Lu Ten’s whole life from him.

But could he really promise Izumi anything different? She’d been born in the center of a resistance enclave, to two of the rebellion's most powerful warriors. If their long-term plans for the war came to fruition, there was a real chance that Izumi, as Zuko’s eldest child, would end up on the throne of the Fire Nation one day.

Iroh pressed a warm, firm hand to Izumi’s back.

She would be powerful, this tiny girl. Iroh could sense it. His time seeking out the spirits and their world had honed his instincts in this. He couldn’t remember feeling this much strength from someone this young since he’d first held Azula…and even Azula hadn’t felt quite like this.

Iroh was grateful. If he knew anything about raising children in this shattered world, he knew she would need to be strong.

A fierce, possessive part of Iroh hoped she would be a firebender.

 

————————

 

Zuko glared at the group of them, assembled around the table. They could say something at least.

“Are you sure?” It was Suki who asked.

“Yes,” Zuko said. “She firebent this morning. She was…very excited about it.”

More silence.

“…wow,” said Sokka.

“Awesome,” Toph said.

“Toph!” Katara burst out. Zuko reached for her but she shrugged him off.

“What?” Toph said. “You’re saying this like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing!” Katara snapped.

“I think it’s lucky!” Toph said. “We’ve been looking all over for the Avatar for how long now? And now she’s right here!”

“But it’s Izumi!” Katara spat. “You don’t understand how-”

Zuko reached for her again, and she fell silent, shoving his hand off of her shoulder. She stared down at the tabletop. Zuko sat down next to her.

“It does seem…fortuitous,” Iroh ventured. “The Avatar has been located, and is already safe. That’s far better than any of us were hoping for.”

“…And she’s already pretty good at waterbending,” Suki offered.

“And she won’t lack for firebending and earthbending teachers either,” Iroh added, eyeing both Zuko and Toph. “Airbending will of course be a…unique challenge, but we’ve known that all along, and-”

“But it’s Izumi! ” Katara shouted. “Stop talking about her like she’s just another tile on your pai sho board!”

“Katara…” Uncle tried to soothe her.

“What?” Katara snapped. “She can’t stop the war! She’s just a child!”

“So were we!” Toph cut in.

“Yeah, and look how well that worked out for us,” Sokka said.

The air went out of the room. Zuko looked around the table as his friends fell silent. Every single one of them had been shattered by the Fire Nation’s war, each in their own way.

And now… it was going to happen to his daughter.

Zuko broke down in tears.

Katara stormed out of the room.

Zuko brushed his hands across his face, trying to get control of himself. But now that he’d let his feelings out, he found he couldn’t stop.

Izumi was the Avatar.

She would be amazing. She was already so powerful and so beautifully strong. But she’d be the key to winning the war. There was no keeping her from the front lines anymore. There was no protecting her, not from their enemies, and not from what learning to fight them would force her to become. Not anymore.

Zuko wept.

Sokka came around the table and put a firm hand on Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko clutched at his friend’s hand with one of his own and dried his eyes with the other. He cleared his throat and looked around the table. All of them, Toph, Suki, Iroh, and Sokka, watched him with mirrored expressions of grief and resignation.

“What do we do?” Zuko asked, his voice thick in his throat.

“Does Izumi realize what she is?” Iroh asked gently.

“I don’t know,” Zuko replied. “I’m not sure if she understands what this means.”

“She’ll need to be told,” Iroh said. “Right away. She’s quite young for that, but since she manifested a second element all on her own, we can’t very well keep it from her.”

Zuko nodded, “We’ll talk to her tonight.”

He turned to look at Katara, before remembering that she’d stormed out. His jaw tightened and he turned back to the others.

Sokka sat down in Katara’s empty chair, “And then…we start her training.”

“It would make sense to start with firebending, since that’s the element she’s shown an affinity for,” Iroh said. “Properly, she should learn earthbending next, however…”

“Hey if she’s got a knack for fire, let her stick with fire,” Toph cut in. “I’ll be ready for her whenever she’s ready to learn earthbending.”

Zuko nodded.

“We knew we’d be training a new Avatar,” Sokka said. “We’ve known that all along. We…we already did it once. We can do it again.”

Zuko looked over at Sokka, but Sokka wouldn’t look at him. They’d trained Aang as best they could. It hasn’t been enough. Hopefully, with Izumi, they could do better.

Maybe, just maybe, they could keep her safe. Maybe this time, they wouldn’t have to train an Avatar only to send them off to their death at Zuko’s own father’s hands.

They had no choice. They had to try.

 

———————

 

When Izumi returned home from her afternoon lessons, she found her parents waiting for her at the kitchen table. She tensed when she saw them. Them waiting for her like this usually meant she was in trouble. She wracked her brain, trying to think of something she’d done wrong recently, and came up with nothing. Unless they were upset with her about the firebending?

“Hey,” Dad said, “how were lessons?”

“Good,” she said.

They’d learned about earth kingdom history and traditions today. It had been boring.

“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Mom said.

Izumi sat. There was a cup of tea already waiting for her at the table. Mango rooibos. Her favorite. Ok, that meant she probably wasn’t in trouble.

Her parents looked at each other, and then at her.

“Your dad tells me you did some firebending for him this morning,” Mom said.

Izumi grinned, “Yeah! I was doing my katas and I made a flame!”

“That’s…amazing, Izumi,” Mom said.

Izumi sipped her tea, proud of herself.

“Do you know what that means?” Dad asked her, looking a little nervous. “That you can use two elements?”

Oh. Something serious was happening. This was a Serious Talk. The last time they’d sat her down and been this tense was the time they’d told her that the Fire Lord was her grandfather.

She put her cup down, “what do you mean?”

“I mean…” Dad hesitated. “Most people don’t get to wield two elements. Every bender only gets one.”

“Except for me,” Izumi said. “Because you’re a firebender and mom’s a waterbender.”

Dad shook his head.

“No, it doesn’t work like that,” he said gently. “You get one element, no matter who your parents are.”

Izumi was confused, “but I have two. You saw me.”

“No, Izumi,” Dad said again. “You get one or…or you get all four.”

Izumi’s mouth fell open a little.

“It means you’re the Avatar,” Dad said.

The Avatar. She was the Avatar.

“We’re going to help you every step of the way, honey,” Mom said. “We’re here for you.”

“And we’re proud of you,” Dad said.

She looked back and forth between her mom and dad. They both looked so nervous, but Izumi was suddenly fighting to keep a grin off her face.

“I’m the Avatar?” She asked.

Dad nodded.

Izumi beamed, “I get to learn all of the elements?”

Dad opened his mouth to say something, then shut it and just nodded.

“When do I get to start?!” She asked.

Dad laughed, but it was a kind laugh.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “You’ll start your firebending lessons with me and Grandfather Iroh tomorrow.”

Izumi did an excited little dance in her seat. She couldn’t wait. She was going to get to learn firebending. And then Auntie Toph would probably teach her earthbending. Spirits, this was so exciting. She was going to get so much stronger. She was finally going to be able to help.

“I know you’re going to have a lot of questions,” Mom said. “And we’ll answer as many of them as we can.”

She probably should have questions. But Izumi couldn’t think of any right now. She was the Avatar. She was going to learn all four elements and then help everyone win the war.

She knew what went on outside the air temple. They tried to keep the worst of it secret from her, but she was a good listener and she knew how to trick Uncle Sokka into telling her stuff. She knew the plan was to use the Blue Spirit (who was actually her dad) and the Avatar to strike the Fire Nation and win. What was there to question right now?

She would get stronger. Stronger than any Avatar had ever been. And she would help them. She would help everyone.

“Do…you have any questions right now?” Mom asked.

“Can I go tell Uncle Sokka and Aunt Suki?” She asked.

Mom gave an exasperated little laugh, “Sure honey. Go ahead.”

Izumi burst out of her chair, “Thanks, I’ll be right back!”

And she ran out the door and slammed it behind her. But she didn’t leave yet. She crouched for a moment just outside the door.

“She gets it from you, you know,” she heard Mom say. “Jump first. Make a plan on the way down.”

“I’m not the one who walked out of the meeting,” Dad said.

“I couldn’t stay and hear our daughter’s future being discussed like a battle strategy,” Mom snapped.

“You left,” Dad pressed.

“And you gave up.”

A long silence followed. Izumi slunk away, feeling a little less joyful, and a lot more confused.

 

————————

 

Year 11, Day 303

 

Zuko woke Izumi before dawn for her first firebending lesson. They crept out of their dark rooms into the pre-dawn glow, so Izumi could feel the sun come up.

Katara stayed in bed. She listened as Zuko rose, but kept her face turned to the wall. She felt petulant. Childish. What was Zuko supposed to do? Not train Izumi in firebending? None of them had a choice.

But that just made her angrier.

When she was sure they were gone, she got out of bed and dressed. Then she marched across the courtyard to see Sokka.

He looked shocked to see her so early. He still seemed half asleep. He hadn’t even put on his prosthetic yet, leaning on a crutch instead.

“Katara?” He said.

“I need a mission,” she said. “Something big. Something… something that will keep me away from the temple for a while.”

Sokka looked stricken, “Katara…”

“Look, I know Izumi is the Avatar, and there’s nothing I can do about that,” Katara said. “I know we have to train her. I know she has to fight with us. But that doesn’t mean I have to watch it happen. Not right now.”

Sokka looked at her with an emotion that felt disgustingly like pity.

“Are you sure?” He asked

She nodded.

“Ok,” he said. “I’ll… Let me talk to Iroh. I think we’ve got something we can put you on. An extraction. It won’t start for a few weeks but once it does…it’ll be a long mission.”

Katara nodded stiffly, “ok.”

“Ok.”

He started to close the door.

“Sokka?” She said.

He stopped, “yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He heaved a heavy sigh.

“Of course.”

And he closed the door.

 

.

Notes:

Y’all I think this might be one of my favorite chapters I’ve ever written. Thanks for reading. Y’all are amazing.

Chapter 11: Book 2 - Part 2

Notes:

Whoops another chapter that got longer than I meant it to be but trying to pause it in the middle felt deeply unsatisfying so you get a long chapter. Have fun!

Year 11, Day 349

 

“Here then,” Suki said. “It’s our best bet on that stretch of road.”

Katara leaned over the map again as Suki pointed at the narrow ridge line near the sea.

Master Piandao, one hand on his chin in thought, nodded.

“Agreed,” he said. “It’s far from ideal. Too much open space. But-”

“But if we can approach from the east, over the plains,” Suki said, drawing a line with the tip of her finger, “we can trap them between us and the ridge. They’ll have to face us or retreat back to the passes.”

Katara sat in her chair at the table, one leg folded underneath her, feeling useless.

Katara and Suki, and a few additional fighters from the temple, had been hiding out in Piandao’s estate with him for weeks, tracking exactly this prison caravan. They’d heard through their network of informants that the Fire Nation was relocating some high profile prisoners, moving those they deemed less risky into lower security locations, so the most secure prisons had more room for the new prisoners of war they kept accumulating in their conquests.

They’d been tracking and observing the various transports for weeks, but finally they’d identified the caravan that was likely carrying the prisoners they most hoped to free. It was bound for the harbor to the south, likely headed for one of the island prisons in the lower archipelago. If they made it to that ship, their opportunity to strike would be gone.

“Katara,” Piandao said, turning to her, “your role will be to disable the prison transports with your bending. Shinji will close off their paths of retreat and cover our escape. The rest of us will keep the guards occupied until we can get the prisoners out.”

They weren’t one hundred percent certain who they would find in those prisoner transports. All that their sources had been able to verify was that this particular caravan was carrying “enemy benders” and “dangerous combatants.” They were hoping to find and rescue captured fighters from the Midnight Sun Massacre, or imprisoned earthbenders and faction leaders from the colony uprisings.

“How will we approach without being seen?” Katara asked. “If it’s so open near the ridge?”

“We’ll go at dawn,” Suki said. “Get into position before the sun comes up. Spring an ambush when they arrive.”

Piandao nodded, “a wise course.”

Katara studied the old sword master. The years that had passed since Sozin’s Comet had not been kind to him, but despite his increasing age and careworn face, he still carried himself with the lean strength of the warrior he was. His estate, which he’d snuck back to after the fall of Ba Sing Se as if he’d never left, had been their launch point for hundreds of missions into the Fire Nation across the last decade.

Suki nodded at Piandao, “at dawn then.”

Piandao rolled up the map and replaced it on its shelf. Suki moved to follow him, asking more deeply technical questions about troop positioning and attack strategies. Katara made for the balcony instead.

From here, she could see all the way across Piandao’s estate. The training field where he’d taught Sokka to use a sword. The stunning gardens he kept so carefully maintained.

Katara descended the attached stairs to the garden. She sat down on a stone bench under one of the manicured trees. It was full summer and achingly hot. What had she been thinking, leaving the cool climate of the temple to stay in the hottest part of the Fire Nation in the middle of the hottest season of the year?

She plucked a leaf from the branch above her and started pulling it apart, just to have something to do with her hands.

A twig snapped and Katara quickly looked up, tensing. She relaxed when she saw it was Suki.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Suki said back, sitting down next to Katara, “healing before tomorrow?

“Yeah of course.”

Katara pulled water up from one of the garden’s water features and took Suki’s arm gently in her hands. Despite the passing of over a decade, Suki’s old wounds still hung on. The pinched and damaged nerves in Suki’s limbs needed constant maintenance to remain strong. About once a week, Katara sat down with Suki and shored up her arm and her legs. Much longer than that between healings, and they would start to deteriorate.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Suki asked Katara as she worked.

“Yeah,” Katara said. “You?”

“Yeah.”

A nervous flutter settled in her stomach. But it was an accustomed feeling. Katara honestly hoped she never reached a point where she stopped being nervous the night before a fight. It would mean she’d stopped caring.

“I just hope it ends up being worth it,” Suki said. “There’s so many things we don’t know. And we’ve been here for weeks. What if…”

“What if we attack this caravan and it’s just a bunch of random fire nation criminals?”

“Yeah.”

Well, that was the risk they were taking.

Katara let go of Suki’s arm. Suki put her hands in her lap and shifted one of her legs up on the bench.

“It’ll be good to go home,” Suki said. “However this goes. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a great vacation at Piandao’s but…”

Katara chuckled. It was a long-running joke in the resistance that prepping for a mission from Piandao’s estate was like being on vacation. It was whole orders of magnitude more luxurious than the temple, with its bright airy rooms, mild weather, sprawling gardens, and fully staffed kitchens. And opportunities to train a little bit with the master himself did nothing to sour the deal. They’d been here a full month, intercepting messages and tracking caravans. And after tomorrow, they’d be going home.

Katara wondered how Izumi had progressed in her firebending since she’d been away.

“Yeah,” Katara said, “this…was a long time to be gone.”

Katara had never been on a mission this long before. Zuko had, once or twice, but both of them tried to steer clear of missions that kept them away from the temple for more than a week or two. At least while Izumi was young.

Thinking about Zuko and Izumi made Katara’s stomach turn over with nerves again. Nerves and something like guilt. She missed them more than she would have thought possible, but she also wasn’t looking forward to facing them again. Not when she’d spent the last month running away.

 

——————

 

31 days earlier

 

“Do you really think this will help?”

Katara stopped, her hands going still on the ties of her bag. She could feel Zuko staring at her, but she didn’t turn. She just resumed packing.

Behind her, Zuko sighed. She heard the creak of wood as he sat in one of the kitchen chairs.

Tugging the bag closed, Katara turned. Zuko sat with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight together, staring at the floor.

“Zuko-” she began.

“You’re being selfish, Katara,” he said.

Katara bristled.

“This mission is important,” she countered.

“Yes but it doesn’t have to be you,” he said.

“Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Because your daughter needs you,” Zuko snapped, finally raising his eyes and looking up at her.

Katara grit her teeth, “She’s fine. It’s not like I haven’t left before.”

“But why now, Katara? Why does it have to be now?”

They both knew why, but she refused to be forced into saying it.

Izumi had looked deeply confused when Katara had told her about this mission, and how she’d be gone for several weeks. It would be the longest amount of time she’d spent away from Izumi since the moment she’d been born. And yes, Izumi had just learned that she was the Avatar. She was excited about it in the way that only an eleven year old could be, but it was still a huge change for someone so young. She would need all the support she could get.

…She would be fine. She was a strong girl. Smart. And she had her father. And her grandfather. And her Uncle Sokka. And her Auntie Toph. Izumi would be fine without her mother for a few weeks.

She’d be fine.

Katara reached a hand toward Zuko, paused, thought better of it, and left.

 

———————

 

Year 11, Day 349

 

Izumi finished her kata with a flourish, and was rewarded for it with only the smallest sputter of flame. She grumbled a curse under her breath, low enough that Dad probably wouldn’t hear.

“Don’t embellish,” Dad corrected gently. “Foundations first.”

He walked through the last few steps of the form, the ones she’d just fumbled, with smooth, precise motions, accompanied by sharp bursts of flame. Izumi resettled her stance and tried again. It was only a little bit better.

“Use your breath,” Dad reminded her.

She breathed. And she stepped her way through the pattern. This time the flames she produced were full, warm, and bright.

“Good!”

She looked over at her dad and found him beaming at her. She smiled proudly, resetting her stance.

“That’s plenty for today,” he said. “Good work.”

Izumi pouted. She wasn’t anywhere near tired. She’d been training in firebending for a month now, but most of her training still involved standing in the sun to breathe and trying to keep flames contained. Training today had started with her being given a candle with enough wax to burn for half an hour and Dad telling her to see how long she could keep it lit. She’d made it a full forty five minutes before the flame slipped her control a final time and consumed the last of the wick.

Dad smiled, “if you want to keep working you can practice your waterbending.”

She sighed.

“Fine,” Izumi mumbled.

She needed to practice both elements. Izumi knew that. Just because she was learning a new one didn’t mean that she could forget the old one. But it felt silly practicing without Mom here to coach her.

“When’s Mom coming back?” She asked.

“Soon,” Dad said. “The last hawk from them made it sound like they’d be back soon. A couple of days. Maybe a week.”

Dad’s hands fidgeted in that weird way that meant he was nervous. He cleared his throat.

“I know she’ll be really impressed with everything you’ve learned,” he added.

Izumi wasn’t sure of that at all. She kicked at the dirt with the toe of her boot.

“No she won’t,” Izumi said.

Dad froze.

“What on earth gave you that idea?” He asked.

“She doesn’t want me to be the Avatar,” Izumi said. “She didn’t want to see any firebending I wanted to show her. She doesn’t want me to be a firebender. Or the Avatar.”

She wanted to feel angry, but she just felt sad.

Dad crossed to her and folded her into a hug. Izumi threw her arms around him, trying not to cry.

“Your mom loves you,” Dad said. “And so do I.”

It was easy to believe that Dad loved her. Dad had always been so excited to see her waterbend. Just as excited as he was about teaching her his own element.

And Dad was here. And yeah Dad went on missions a lot too. More often than Mom did, actually. But this time, with Mom leaving… it was different. Usually when Mom left it was with assurances that she’d be back soon and would miss her every day she was gone. This time Mom had been gone a whole month and had barely said two words to Izumi when she left.

“Maybe some sword practice then?” Dad offered gently. “I’ve got to go meet with your grandfather, but we could see if Uncle Sokka is free.”

Izumi stepped back from her dad. She brushed an embarrassing tear from the corner of her eye. She nodded.

Dad gave her another hug, and she clung to him. It made her feel small, but she didn’t care. He, at least, was here. Dad, at least, was helping her become who she needed to be.

 

———————

 

Year 11, Day 350

 

Lying on her stomach next to Suki, Katara watched the road through the quivering grass. They’d been there since before sunup, hiding in little divots that Shinji, their earthbender, had carved into the ground to shield them from view.

The waiting was the worst part of any fight. Katara took deep, steady breaths, trying to calm the racing of her heart.

Suddenly, there was a whistle, like the trill of a seabird. It was passed down the line of hidden rebels, Suki echoing it back as it reached them. The prison caravan had been spotted.

Finally.

Katara pulled her mask, shaped like the Blue Spirit but painted a deep burgundy red, down over her face.

The caravan had only a single prisoner transport, pulled by a komodo rhino. There was another rhino at the front of the troop, carrying a rider with a scout’s telescope, and a third at the back. The rest of the guards were on foot. Katara counted nearly a dozen.

Suki’s hand brushed against hers. Katara took it and squeezed. Then Suki let go and reached for her fans.

Shinji, his face covered by his golden yellow spirit mask, threw a ripple of earth at the front of the caravan.

Pandemonium.

The komodo rhino at the front reared up as the earth rose under its feet, toppling the beast and sending the rider flying. Shinji pushed a wall of earth up in front of the caravan, preventing them from continuing down the road.

As Shinji pivoted and ran, propelling himself across the battlefield to cut off the caravan’s retreat the same way, the rest of the fighters burst from the grass. There were six of them in total. Katara, Suki, Piandao, Shinji, and two nonbenders from the temple named Akano and Jin. They were outnumbered two to one, but since when had that mattered?

An arc of arrows flew toward them. Katara ripped a massive wave of water from the grass at her feet, sweeping it over their heads as they ran. The arrows struck a shield of ice, which cracked and fell to the ground in small, harmless pieces.

They collided with the line of guards before they had a chance to launch a second volley.

Katara pulled her bending water from her flask and threw it directly into the face of the first guard she met. He sputtered, and she immediately swung back around and hit him hard in the gut. He doubled over, falling backward.

Katara leapt over him and dashed for the transport. Trusting her teammates to cover her back, she rushed in. The komodo rhino was in a panic, trying to flee. The soldier at the front of the transport sawed at the reins, trying to get the creature back under control.

Katara knocked him from his perch. The rhino tossed its head and bolted.

Katara doused one of the transport’s wheels in water, freezing it in place, slowing the rhino as it continued its attempt to escape.

A soldier ran up behind her. Katara spun, ducking as the firebender threw a burst of flame at her. Instead of reaching for her water, she went for the knife in her boot. She swept his arm to the side with her own. Her other hand came up hard and sharp, and her blade found the gap under the breastplate of the soldier’s armor. He fell.

And Katara climbed up onto the seat of the prison transport, still being slowly dragged by the komodo rhino. Katara cut the harness straps that connected the rhino to the transport. Freed, the creature bellowed and ran for the field. The transport ground to a halt.

“Katara!”

She turned at the call. Suki, standing over a downed guard, tossed her a heavy ring of keys.

Katara leapt down and ran for the door. The second key on the ring opened it. She burst in.

The firebender waiting inside attacked. Katara met his fire with a blast of water, dissipating it. The resulting steam reformed in Katara’s hands, forming a wave that she slammed into the bender’s chest. He staggered back. She grabbed the unbalanced soldier by the wrist, yanked him toward her, spun, and shoved him out of the transport and onto the ground.

There were easily a dozen prisoners inside, blinking against the sudden light.

“Watch the door,” She ordered.

She moved to unchain the first prisoner. They all had manacles holding their wrists together, and a second set on their ankles chaining them to the floor. She would free their feet. They could run with their hands bound if they had to.

The first prisoners she freed had the dark skin and shining eyes of water tribesmen. None of them were faces she recognized, but they were definitely from the North Pole. Then she unchained a series of earth kingdom warriors, men and women with callused hands and eyes like polished wood.

The last was a woman with the pale skin and the golden hazel eyes of fire nation nobility.

The woman before her looked far older than Katara remembered, with deep lines around her eyes. She was impossibly thin. Katara felt like she could reach out and snap her bones with her bare hands. Her hair, so long and full in her remembrances, hung limp and dull and roughly chopped around her shoulders. Despite herself, Katara lifted her mask.

“Ty Lee?” She said.

“…Katara?” Ty Lee said.

Katara yanked her spirit mask back down over her face and pulled Ty Lee to her feet. The pair of them leapt from the transport, landing in the chaos of the fight.

Akano was leading the prisoners away from the caravan, across the field, the remaining guards rushing to pursue them.

They needed to get out of here. Now.

“Unlock my hands,” Ty Lee said.

“There’s no time,” Katara snapped.

Not to mention that the last time Katara had seen this woman, she’d been on the wrong side. On several occasions, her chi blocking had left Sokka immobilized and Katara without her bending.

“You know what I can do,” Ty Lee shouted at her. “Let me help!”

The last time Katara had seen Ty Lee was over eleven years ago. How many of those years had she been in prison? What had she done to end up there?

Katara fumbled with the keys and unlocked the manacles on Ty Lee’s wrists.

Ty Lee sprang into motion, leaping at the nearest guard. A few precise hits and the man dropped, his limbs folding under him. She moved on immediately, diving and springing off of her hands and landing behind a second, who fell just as quickly. Katara shoved the key ring in her pocket and rushed to cover Ty Lee’s back.

“Katara!” It was Piandao who called, “Let’s get out of here!”

Katara retreated, making for the gap in the earthen barriers. Ty Lee was just a step behind her. Once they were all on the safe side of the barrier, Shinji closed the gap. Katara turned back, meeting the few final soldiers who attempted to climb over the wall with waves of water, knocking them back down the way they came. Then she spun and ran, the last to retreat.

Suki looked back over her shoulder and started sprinting back toward Katara.

“Get down!” She shouted.

Katara didn’t question it. She flattened herself in the grass.

One of Suki’s fans took the soldier that had been pursuing Katara in the neck.

Katara scrambled to her feet, yanked the bloodied fan from the fallen guard, and handed it back to Suki as they rushed to catch up with the retreating team.

They fled back across the field, and no one else pursued them.

 

——————

 

Ty Lee sat across the table from Katara, digging into a bowl of rice and komodo chicken like it was the first meal she’d had in days. For all they knew, maybe it was.

Flanked by Suki and Piandao, Katara stared at her. This fire nation noble who’d helped them fight their way free today.

“You were in prison this whole time?” Suki asked.

Suki had reminded Katara and Piandao about her escape from the Boiling Rock all those years ago. How she’d seen Ty Lee and Mai hold Azula off, covering their retreat.

Ty Lee looked up at Suki, mouth full, eyes dark, and nodded.

Eleven years in a fire nation prison. Katara swallowed hard.

“Do you know where Mai is?” Ty Lee asked.

Suki shook her head, “we were about to ask you the same thing.”

Ty Lee sighed, shaking her head.

Piandao had his arms crossed over his chest, eyeing Ty Lee suspiciously, “you’ve kept yourself in remarkable shape, for having been in prison for a decade.”

Ty Lee glared up at him, “have you ever been to prison? It’s not like there’s anything better to do.”

Katara studied Ty Lee again. She’d examined all of the prisoners with her bending the moment they were safe, seeing who needed care and healing. Ty Lee was malnourished, but all things considered, her body was strong and limber.

“Where are you hoping to go now?” Piandao asked her.

“How am I supposed to know!” Ty Lee burst out. She pointed at Piandao with her chopsticks, “did you miss the part where I was in prison for eleven years?”

Katara shared a glance with Piandao. They couldn’t let Ty Lee return to the fire nation. Not now that she knew so much about the rebellion's bases and leaders. But…she had fought against her captors, her countrymen, earlier that day without hesitation.

“Would you be willing to teach us what you know?” Piandao asked her. “The way you block chi?”

“Can my mask be pink?” Ty Lee asked.

Katara choked down a laugh.

“…I suppose your mask can be pink,” Piandao said. “Yes.”

“Great,” Ty Lee said, digging back into her meal, “then I’m in.”

 

——————

 

Year 11, Day 351

 

As the sun set over Piandao’s estate, Katara packed. As soon as night fell, they would fly back to the air temple. The return trip would take two days. Two days until she saw Zuko and Izumi again.

Ty Lee was coming with them. The rest of the prisoners they’d rescued would remain at Piandao’s until they were able to be returned to their own homes and cities. But Ty Lee was coming to the temple, to the center of the rebellion.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Katara looked up. It was Piandao. Katara bowed to him.

“Master,” she said.

He bowed back. The sword master held a long bundled item in his hands.

“They’re finished,” he said.

Katara’s breath caught in her throat.

Piandao set the bundle down on the long table. Katara stepped up across from him as he undid the wrappings. It was a pair of dao swords in a single scabbard. Zuko and Sokka had had them commissioned for Izumi.

Katara reached a hand toward them, but stopped herself. These weren’t for her. These had nothing to do with her.

But Piandao nodded at them, and she drew them.

They were a perfect matched set. Gently curved blades glinted in the setting sunlight. The hilts were inlaid with lines of gold filigree. Etched into the steel itself on each blade were the characters for power, change, freedom, and substance. The core traits of all four elements.

Katara tilted one blade so it caught the light. They were gorgeous. Crafted for a gifted warrior. And they’d been made specifically for her Izumi.

She felt tears welling in her eyes.

“They’re beautiful,” she said.

Piandao smiled, proud, and deserving of it.

He produced a second bundle, much smaller, from the folds of his robes. He held it out to Katara. She gently laid down the swords so she could take it.

She removed the wrappings, revealing a short, sheathed knife. The blade was only about as long as her hand.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“It’s yours,” Piandao said.

Katara looked up at him, confused.

“I saw you yesterday,” Piandao said, “on the field. I saw you backed into a corner, and you reached for your knife, not your bending.”

Katara felt suddenly, oddly, ashamed, like a child being scolded.

“Katara,” Piandao said.

She looked up at him.

“That is a great strength,” he said. “Instinct will have you reaching for whatever is most comfortable. For you, that will naturally be your waterbending. But it takes intelligence, and no small amount of control, to recognize when a different tool will serve you better.”

He nodded toward the weapon in her hand.

“You deserve a weapon worthy of your skill,” he said.

Katara drew the knife. It was short and sturdy, but incredibly elegant. The hilt was wrapped in blue leather. The blade, tapering smoothly into a wicked point, was etched with linework that resembled waves.

“Sir…” Katara breathed.

She tried to hand it back to him. He shook his head and folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe.

“It’s yours, Master Katara,” he said. “A gift.”

She looked at the masterpiece of a knife in her hand. She swallowed hard. She nodded.

“Thank you,” was all she could manage.

Piandao nodded, “we all become stronger versions of ourselves the more we learn. Every time we learn, we evolve. The more we evolve, the more we are capable of.”

Paindao picked up one of the swords he had made for Izumi.

“Change is a good thing, Master Katara,” he said. “A powerful thing. Even if it turns us into something we never expected to be. You grew from a village marvel to a master waterbender. And from a waterbender to a formidable warrior. You have to allow yourself to change. You have to allow yourself to grow into someone you never expected to be…”

He returned Izumi’s blades to their scabbard. He looked up at her.

“…and you have to allow the ones you love do the same.”

 

———————

 

Year 11, Day 353

 

Zuko waited with Sokka as the airship came in, tense and impatient. He caught the rope that was thrown to him, helping guide the balloon in for a landing. He tied his rope off as it settled.

Suki vaulted the side of the balloon and threw herself at Sokka.

The rest of the crew disembarked a little more slowly. Zuko spotted Ty Lee right away, wrapped in a black cloak that was several sizes too big for her. Shinji trailed her very closely. She’d be under guard for quite a while, subtly, until they could be sure she wasn’t sending intel back to the Fire Nation. But Zuko wasn’t worried about her. He knew she’d only been Azula’s friend in their youth out of fear. Fear had always been Azula’s favorite weapon.

Ty Lee smiled when she saw him.

“Zuko,” she said.

“Hey Ty Lee,” he said.

Agni, she looked terrible. But Zuko knew what the inside of fire nation prisons looked like, and it was honestly astounding that she looked as strong as she did. She held out her arms to him, shyly, and he pulled her into an embrace.

“Are you ok?” He asked softly.

“No,” she said. “But I will be.”

His chest ached. At least she was safe now.

“I never thanked you,” Zuko said. “For the Boiling Rock.”

“That was the whole point, dummy,” she said. She poked him playfully in the side, “You needed to get away.”

He released her. As he did, he spotted Katara over her shoulder.

He stepped back from Ty Lee, “Follow the crew. They’ll get you settled in.”

She gave him a small smile, “Thanks.”

She stepped around him, and Zuko was left facing Katara in the emptying airship hanger.

She stood in front of him, her pack low in one hand and -bafflingly- a dao sword scabbard across her back. Her expression, the stiff set of her shoulders, betrayed her anxiety.

Zuko crossed to her and took her in his arms.

Her arms closed tight around his waist. She put her forehead down on his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the words muffled against his chest.

“I know,” he said.

He didn’t say it’s ok. She’d need to apologize to their daughter too before it would be ok.

But it was good to have her back. Despite it all, he’d missed her.

She picked up her head, brushing tears from the corners of her eyes. He released her. She didn’t seem to know what else to say, and at that moment, neither did he. He gestured at the unfamiliar swords on her back instead.

“What are those?” He asked.

She pulled the scabbard over her head and handed it to him, “they’re Izumi’s. Piandao finished them.”

Zuko held his breath as he took the weapons in his hands, the blades he and Sokka had commissioned for his daughter. He took a deep breath that hurt. He set his teeth and handed the scabbard back to Katara.

“She needs them to come from you,” he said.

 

—————

 

Year 11, Day 354

 

When Izumi awoke the next morning, there were two voices outside her room.

Mom was home!

Izumi burst out of her room, the door slamming against the wall. Mom, sitting at the table, and Dad, making tea, both turned to her in surprise.

“Mom!” She said, running to her.

Mom rose and met her in a tight hug.

“Hey, sweetheart I missed you!” Mom said.

“I missed you too,” Izumi said, clinging to her.

“I’m so sorry I was gone for so long,” Mom said.

Izumi let go. Right. She was trying to be mad at Mom right now. Sure Mom was home now, but she’d been gone for a whole month.

“I…have something for you,” Mom said.

Izumi scowled. Was that supposed to make up for her leaving? Izumi wasn’t some baby who could be bribed with a present. Mom turned and lifted something from the table.

Izumi’s heart started beating a little faster.

It was a scabbard. A scabbard like the one Dad wore over his back anytime he went on missions. Mom held it out to her.

She took it. She looked first up at Mom, then over at Dad. Dad nodded to her over his cup of tea.

Izumi began to pull the swords free.

“Careful,” Mom said. “They’re sharp.”

Izumi rolled her eyes. Swords? Sharp? Who would have guessed.

“You’ve got this,” Dad said.

Izumi drew her swords. A beautiful matched set of dao swords, just like Dad’s.

And somehow…not like Dad’s at all. She’d held Dad’s swords before, and these were a little shorter and lighter. The hilts were threaded with gold, and the blades were etched with writing. Writings she recognized as characteristics of the four elements.

They were more than just a pair of dao swords.
These were dao swords for the Avatar.

Izumi beamed. She stepped back and swung them gently, tracing them through the air to wrap around each side of herself. Two halves of the same whole, just like Dad taught her.

“Do you like them?” Mom asked.

“I love them!” She replied.

She wanted to hug her mom again, but she didn’t want to put her new swords down either. She compromised by putting both hilts in one hand and throwing the other arm around her mom.

When Mom let go, Dad was there too. She threw her free arm around him this time.

“Can we go practice?” She asked.

He smiled, “breakfast first. Then practice.”

Izumi pouted. But she couldn’t stay upset for long. Not with Dad beaming at her like that. Not with Mom home.

The whole family sat down to breakfast together for the first time in over a month.

 

.

Chapter 12: Book 2 - Part 3

Year 16, Day 77

 

Zuko stood overlooking the temple’s practice field, Katara on one side of him, and Sokka on the other. In the corner, Iroh sat on a stone bench with Toph, sharing a cup of tea. He scanned the row of windows. Ty Lee and Suki both watched from above.

They’d spread themselves out on purpose, hoping Izumi wouldn’t notice that all of them were here at once.

On the training ground, Izumi chatted with four of their most trusted resistance fighters. All close allies who’d put on a spirit mask time and time again. People who knew Izumi as herself, not as Avatar Izumi, remembered her as a clumsy toddler or a precocious eight year old, and therefore weren’t unduly intimidated by her. They’d chosen these four and given them very specific orders.

Spar with Izumi. Don’t overwhelm her. But do challenge her. See what she does. See how she handles it.

Izumi was fifteen. Frighteningly young.

Growing into herself. Her waterbending skills were incredible. Her firebending had risen to match over the last four years. She’d start her earthbending training with Toph in very short order. She was almost as good with those dao swords of hers as Zuko was these days. Training with Suki made her strong. Training with Sokka made her smart. Training with Ty Lee made her agile.

It was time to see what she could do when she was challenged.

Kenshin, one of the resistance fighters who’d helped shepherd Zuko and Katara out of Caldera all those years ago, was one of the fighters on the field with Izumi. He caught Zuko’s eye and Zuko nodded.

They took to the field, the four warriors circling up around Izumi, who settled deep into a waiting, ready stance. Kenshin said something and Zuko saw Izumi laugh.

Then Kenshin leapt at her.

Izumi pulled her bending water from the flask at her hip. She spun out of reach of Kenshin’s sword and swept her water toward him. It connected hard with the front of his shoulder and he staggered, spinning away. Izumi wrapped a water whip around his ankle and pulled. Kenshin fell.

She spun to face the next attacker. The warrior’s blade swung for her chest.

Katara’s hand flew to Zuko’s arm, her grip like iron.

Izumi folded backward, bending back toward the ground. The sword passed harmlessly over her head. She bent back further, catching herself on her hands, and kicked her legs up over her head, fire bursting from them as she moved. Izumi landed on her feet as the warrior retreated.

The next combatant she met was a firebender. Izumi met him blow for blow. And when the attacker with the sword that she’d driven off a moment ago rushed back in, she met them both. Scattered them with flame and fist. She kicked the swordsman in the chest and he fell. She chased the firebender across the field, breaking his footing until he stumbled and he too fell.

The final warrior was a woman with her own pair of dao swords. Izumi ripped hers from their sheath at her back and met her head on.

Izumi lost one blade almost immediately. It flew from her hand and landed in the dirt.

Zuko sucked in a sharp breath.

Izumi resettled. Her single blade poised and ready with the hilt near her ear.

“Good,” Zuko heard Sokka mumble under his breath.

Izumi attacked. She didn’t wait, she attacked. She dodged with a speed that even Zuko had never once managed, even when he’d been a much younger man. She formed a small dagger of fire in her offhand, driving the woman back.

Izumi pursued. She swept one foot along the ground. The water she’d dropped earlier coalesced into a ribbon. Izumi gathered up her water and guided it with her foot like a firebender. She kicked it forward and it slammed into her opponent’s chest.

And Izumi was the only one upright on the field.

It had taken mere minutes.

Agni, she was incredible. Zuko watched his daughter reset her stance and thought his pride might choke him.

She was ready.

And that thought, however proud, was accompanied by a wave of grief.

 

————

 

Izumi spun again…but that was all of them. All four of them were down. Sparring rules, once you got knocked down you stayed down.

She’d won. …pretty easily in fact.

She held her stance for one more breath, then retrieved her fallen sword and sheathed both. She brought her arms into her chest, bowing to where Mom and Dad stood with Uncle Sokka. Grandfather was here too. So were all her Aunts. They’d spread out so she wouldn’t notice, but she noticed anyway. She couldn’t remember the last time that all of her teachers had shown up to watch her train all at the same time.

This had been a test. She didn’t know what for, exactly, but it had definitely been a test.

And if the proud look on Dad’s face was any indication, Izumi was pretty sure she’d passed.

Kenshin strode up to her, clapping her on the back hard and beaming. Izumi grinned back. Kenshin was way older than Izumi, older than her parents even, but he spent a lot of time with them, and Izumi liked him. He’d headed off her early attempts at calling him “Uncle Kenshin,” but that was still more or less how she thought of him. If Toph and Ty Lee were her honorary aunties, Kenshin was an honorary uncle, even if he didn’t like being called that.

“Did I pass?” She asked him.

Kenshin had the audacity to look shocked, “I have no idea what you mean by that.”

She gave him a flat look. He laughed.

“Yeah kiddo,” he said. “You were fuckin’ triumphant.”

 

————

 

There was a strategy meeting that afternoon, and Izumi was invited.

To her credit, she was being very mature about it. Her strides were measured as she walked next to Zuko, but he could see the excitement in her eyes as he held the door to the meeting room open for her.

She broke her composure a little bit then, dashing for a chair at the table. She sat down next to Ty Lee and Toph, Ty Lee sitting cross-legged on a chair that should have been too small for that, and Toph sitting in her lap. And Zuko was oddly encouraged, seeing Izumi act like a kid, even for a second.

Katara was already there, bent over Sokka’s notebook and discussing something with him. Zuko stepped up next to her, his hand sliding across the small of her back.

“That seems risky,” Katara said to her brother.

“It’s the same maneuver we’ve done a hundred times,” Sokka said. “We use it on missions like this all the time and it rarely fails us.”

Katara sucked in a deep breath. Zuko rubbed his hand across her back again, trying to calm his own nerves.

“We’ll be there,” he reminded her. “It’ll be ok.”

Katara took another breath and gave a tight nod. Zuko pressed a kiss to her cheek and sat down at the table. She and Sokka followed suit. Iroh and Suki arrived, and they were all met.

Sokka stood to start the meeting.

“Team,” he said, “everyone say hi to Izumi.”

Izumi smiled at all of them and gave a surprisingly shy little wave. Sure, she may have been at a resistance meeting for the first time, but everyone here was family. Zuko smiled back so she wouldn’t be too nervous.

“We’ve got a question for you, Avatar Izumi,” Sokka said, giving special, almost playful weight to her title.

“If it’s am I ready to learn earthbending, the answer is yes,” Izumi said with a grin.

Zuko smothered his laugh.

Iroh chuckled, sharing a glance with Sokka, “well that’s not the question we had in mind, but a good one nonetheless.”

“We do want you to start training with Master Toph when you get back,” Sokka said. “It’s time.”

“Yes!” Izumi said.

“You ready for this, Cricket?” Toph asked, grinning at her.

“Cricket” had been Toph’s nickname for Izumi since she was tiny. Something about being all legs and always jumping into situations she shouldn’t be in. Regardless, it had stuck.

“Hell yeah!” Izumi said, giving Toph a high five.

She immediately glanced over at Zuko and Katara, as if wondering if she was going to get in trouble for using a curse word in a meeting. Zuko just shrugged and she smiled again. Then her eyes narrowed and she looked back at Sokka.

“Wait,” Izumi said. “When I get back? Back from what?”

“A few of us are taking off on a mission in a few days,” Sokka said. “There’s a new supply line to a fire nation base in the earth kingdom that we’re planning to cut off. And we want you on this mission with us, Avatar Izumi.”

Izumi’s eyes got big. She opened her mouth to reply. Closed it. Collected herself. She stood, hands clasped before her as she bowed.

“It would be my honor,” she said.

Sokka looked over at Zuko and Katara. Zuko met his eyes. He could see the question in them. This moment…it was a turning point. They’d decided weeks ago that Izumi was nearly ready. Had specifically held this mission until now, so she could join them, should she pass the test they’d set for her this morning. Zuko’s hand brushed Katara’s under the table and she took it in hers.

He looked over at Izumi, bowing her acceptance to the resistance's top strategists. Impossibly young and impossibly grown. They couldn’t keep her back forever. This was her war too, as the Avatar and as a descendant of the fire nation, and it was time.

But after this moment, there would be no going back. Izumi would be a soldier.

Zuko held Sokka’s gaze and nodded.

“Excellent,” Sokka said.

He opened his notebook to the proper page, spun it around, and slid it across the table toward Izumi.

“Here’s the plan…”

 

———————

 

Year 16, Day 84

 

Izumi crouched in the shadows under the trees, water in a flask at her hip, her swords across her back, and a spirit mask over her face, one painted a deep purple so dark it was nearly black.

Dad was on one side of her, Uncle Sokka on the other. Uncle’s prosthetic leg rattled just a little as he shifted, settling back on his heels. He wasn’t the only person at the air temple with a replacement limb, not by a long shot, but Uncle Sokka’s leg just seemed like…part of him. Izumi had never once seen it slow him down. What she did see, quite often in fact, was him tinkering with it. Making it work better. Izumi wondered if, in another lifetime, her Uncle Sokka might have been an inventor, rather than a tactician.

Their perch up on the ridge overlooked a narrow pass, and a long suspension bridge. This pass and this bridge was the only roadway large enough for the heavy fire nation machinery that kept the outpost at the top of the pass supplied with food and firepower. There were other passes through the mountains of course, but if they could shut down this one, it would cripple the outpost. And maybe, once the outpost was weakened, they could take it out completely later.

Uncle Sokka had explained the whole plan to her in detail. He, more than anyone else, always treated her like an adult.

The bridge was guarded by a pair of foot soldiers on each side, and a tall watchtower. Izumi could see two figures moving around at the top of the tower, but there were probably more where she couldn’t see them. The tower was a rickety thing, hastily built from wood and just barely tall enough to provide a view down the pass.

Uncle Sokka met her eyes and signaled for them to move in.

Izumi swallowed hard against the thrill of fear that rose in her chest. She let out a slow breath and followed Dad and Uncle Sokka down the ridge in perfect silence.

And suddenly Uncle halted them, a hand in the air. Izumi froze.

She caught the signal on its repeat. She’d mistaken the first one for a birdcall. But she knew the whistled pattern. It was the first one Dad had taught her. It was the one that meant retreat. It was the one that meant fall back now.

So they did. Izumi followed her father and Uncle Sokka back up the ridge and back to their makeshift camp. They lifted their masks from their faces as the other half of their team, the ones who’d been away on the other side of the bridge, approached.

“What happened?” Uncle Sokka asked.

“There’s a troop coming up the pass,” the woman, an earthbender named Liuli, said. Then she turned and addressed Dad instead, “And… she’s with them.”

Dad’s face went stony. Uncle Sokka tensed.

Izumi frowned, “who?”

Dad stalked away toward the tree line.

“Uncle?” Izumi asked, turning to him, her unease growing.

Uncle Sokka heaved a sigh, “the one Fire Nation soldier we don’t ever try to fight.”

“What? Why not?” Izumi asked. “Who is it?”

Uncle grimaced, “Azula. The Fire Princess. …your Dad’s sister.”

Izumi froze, shocked. She hadn’t even known Dad had a sister.

Uncle cursed under his breath and crossed to where they’d hidden the war balloon, gesturing for her to follow. She trailed him as he retrieved his pack and pulled his notebook from inside. Uncle Sokka sat down with his back to the side of the balloon, and Izumi settled next to him.

“Azula is the Fire Nation’s strongest weapon,” Uncle said, his voice strained, “she’s the most powerful firebender the world has ever seen. Yes,” he added before she could interrupt, “even more powerful than the Fire Lord. And more powerful than your dad.”

Izumi pressed her lips together.

“Your mom defeated her once,” Uncle Sokka added. “On the day of Sozin’s Comet.”

Izumi stared.

“Your parents fought her that day,” Uncle went on, “while the rest of us were fighting the Fire Lord. And according to Katara, they left Azula alive, but… broken. Mentally.”

Izumi’s chest hurt.

“We’d hoped that that would be enough to remove her from play,” Uncle Sokka said, opening his notebook and paging through it, “but it seems that she recovered. And she is very much back in play.”

He handed Izumi his notebook. It was opened to a sketched map of the four nations, lined with notes.

“We can track the locations the Fire Nation is most worried about by following her movements,” he said. “They seem to deploy her only as a last resort. But when they do…she wins.”

Izumi ran her hand over the pages, skimming Uncle’s notes. She recognized the names of a few locations that had been centers of a lot of fighting in the last few months.

“But if she’s here now,” Izumi asked, “why don’t we fight her? There’s six of us.”

Uncle Sokka shook his head, “Your parents only barely managed it in a very controlled situation. And that was many years ago.”

Izumi gripped the edges of the notebook tightly.

“And we tried once,” Uncle said. “A few years ago. The entire team fell.”

Izumi suddenly felt cold.

“Azula is a monster, Izumi,” Uncle said. “And I don’t use that word lightly. The only things she knows are power and fear. That’s not the kind of thing you try to fight.”

Izumi looked down at the map in her hands again, her thoughts racing. After a long moment, Uncle spoke again.

“You ok, Cricket?” He asked.

Izumi let out a breath, “why didn’t Dad tell me he had a sister?”

Uncle sighed. He reached for the notebook and she handed it back to him. He ran his hand over the cover. He did not look at her.

“I don’t know,” Uncle Sokka said. “He doesn’t talk about her much at all. She was…cruel to him when they were young, I think. …And I think he feels guilty.”

Izumi wrinkled her nose, “guilty?”

Uncle hesitated, “because he left her with the Fire Lord.”

Izumi didn’t understand. She went to ask another question, but Uncle raised a hand to stop her.

“Don’t repeat any of that,” he said. “Ok?”

Izumi nodded, “ok.”

“If your Dad wants you to know more, he’ll tell you when he’s ready,” Uncle said.

He pushed himself to his feet and pulled her up behind him.

“Let’s get camp set up,” he said.

Izumi nodded. Uncle put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, giving her a small, encouraging smile. With effort, Izumi returned it.

The more Izumi learned about her relatives on her dad’s side, the more confused she got. Every time she got a question answered, the answer just created a dozen more questions. Every time she thought she understood, she discovered she didn’t know anything at all.

She huffed a breath, and started helping set up their camp.

 

——————

 

“We need to move out,” Zuko snapped. “Now.”

“Zuko,” Sokka said, placating him in a tone that was just barely on the safe side of patronizing. “We can’t.”

Zuko’s heart raced. He gripped his mask so his hands wouldn’t shake.

“Fuck, Sokka, Azula is here,” he said. “And we brought Izumi.”

This was supposed to be a standard mission. Cut and dry. In and out. As safe as they could make it, for Izumi’s first time in the field. With Azula here, all of that crumbled.

Sokka reached for him. Zuko shrugged him off.

“Zuko,” Sokka snapped, taking a firm hold on his arm, “We’re fine. They don’t know we’re here, and it’s too late to make the flight back to the temple before sunup. We’ll reevaluate in the morning.”

Zuko sucked in a deep breath. It made him a little lightheaded. He pressed a hand to his forehead and nodded. Sokka’s hand on his arm gave a steadying squeeze.

“With any luck the troop is just moving through,” Sokka said. “There’s no reason for her to stay at this post for any length of time. I’d bet anything that she’s on her way to somewhere else. We’ll get Liuli to scout.”

Zuko shook his head, “I’ll do it.”

Sokka shook his head with a laugh, “you absolutely will not. You’re a mess.”

Zuko ground his teeth and made a frustrated noise.

“We’ll make camp, we’ll see what information we can pick up, and we’ll decide tomorrow if we’re heading home or waiting it out,” Sokka said. “Got it?”

Zuko nodded. Sokka let go of his arm.

“If anything,” Sokka ventured, “her being here means we were right. This post is an important waystop. If we can shut it down, it could cripple this whole area.”

Zuko nodded again. He looked back toward their camp, where the other four fighters, Izumi among them, were setting up shelters. His chest hurt as he watched Izumi.

“It was stupid of us to bring her here,” Zuko said. “What were we thinking?”

“That she’s ready,” Sokka said firmly. “And she is. Nothing the Fire Nation can do is going to change that.”

Right. Right, Izumi was ready. Zuko wasn’t going to let her anywhere near Azula, but that was true of just about everyone, not just his daughter.

“Besides,” Sokka bumped him lightly with his shoulder, “Izumi is well on her way to being able to kick Azula’s ass someday.”

Somehow, that did not make Zuko feel better.

 

—————

 

Year 16, Day 87

 

They waited for a few days, making camp in the wilds and staying hidden during the day, until they were sure the brigade carrying her Dad’s sister had moved on. By the time Uncle deemed it safe to retry their plan, Izumi was all but out of her mind with boredom. And, if she admitted it, with nerves. Which was a terrible combination. Nothing to do but sit around and worry.

Dad wasn’t helping. He hovered as they broke camp that day at sunset, getting ready to strike again, offering advice.

Remember, sparring rules don’t apply here. Just because you knock someone down doesn’t mean they’ll stay down.

Remember, you’ve got a whole team at your back. You don’t have to do anything by yourself.

Remember, use whatever weapons you need. Whatever you need to keep yourself safe. Don’t worry too much about which element to use.

Remember, remember, remember…

Izumi let out a long breath as she settled into her place on the ridge between her father and her uncle. And Uncle Sokka signaled them in.

On the other side of the suspension bridge, their comrades attacked the two foot soldiers there. Liuli shoved one into the crevice with her earthbending, and threw up a barrier wall to protect them from the arrows that began to fly from the guard tower.

At the top of the tower, the bell rang. And the timer began. It would take ten minutes for reinforcements to get down the hill to them from the outpost. They needed to be gone before then.

The two soldiers on the ground barreled across the bridge to stop the assault. And Izumi, Dad, and Uncle made for the tower uninhibited.

Dad began to climb the outside of the tower, using handholds Izumi couldn’t even see. He scaled the structure in a handful of heartbeats and threw himself over the railing at the top, crashing into one of the archers. From inside the tower, footsteps rattled on stairs.

Izumi looked at her Uncle Sokka. Uncle drew his sword. Izumi settled into her stance. Uncle nodded at her.

Four soldiers burst out of the tower, and Izumi and Uncle met them.

Izumi ripped her bending water from her flask, taking one of the soldiers in the side. He staggered. He reached for his sword -why hadn’t he drawn it already?- and Izumi pivoted and kicked at him. She didn’t hold back, and her foot connected hard with his gut. The soldier gave a strangled, breathless cry of pain, doubling over and barely keeping his feet. She’d caught his arm as he reached across his middle for his sword, and he clutched at it awkwardly.

Izumi froze.

Uncle Sokka swept past, slicing at the back of the soldier’s leg with his blade. The man went down on one knee, crying out again. Uncle moved on immediately, throwing himself at one of the remaining enemies. The soldier got awkwardly back to his feet.

Izumi reached for her firebending. She chased the man backwards with bursts of flame, pushing him away from the tower and back up the ridge. He backpedaled clumsily, limping badly and still holding his arm against his stomach.

Something caught Izumi by the shoulder. She whirled, already trying to shake loose, but it was Dad. He held her back, his mask still down over his face, as the enemy soldier scrambled back up the hill in terror.

A witness. Someone to tell the Fire Nation that the Blue Spirit had been here.

All the other soldiers who’d escaped the tower were down. Uncle Sokka was rifling through their pockets, looking for orders or communications or anything that would give them intel on the Fire Nation’s plans. On the other side of the bridge, Liuli had collapsed the wall of earth. The signal that they were clear.

“Izumi,” Dad said. “Light it up.”

Izumi rushed to the bridge and set it on fire. The ropes went up instantly, and they creaked as the flames spread and the planks caught. The bridge buckled and sagged.

Izumi couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Another touch on her arm almost made her jump out of her skin. But it was just Dad again. He nodded at her and beckoned.

They melted back into the darkness like they hadn’t been there at all, as the wreckage of the burning bridge collapsed into the crevice.

 

——————

 

Back on the balloon, safe in the air, flying back to the temple, Zuko tipped his mask up on the top of his head. Izumi, sitting on the floor with her back to the low wall, ripped her mask off her face and threw it away from her. It rattled on the floor.

“Izumi?” He said.

She’d done beautifully. But she likely didn’t believe that. She’d be much harder on herself than he would ever be.

“I froze!” She said. “Twice!”

Zuko crouched down in front of her. He picked up her mask, brushing soot from it.

“You did perfectly,” he said.

Izumi just groaned.

“Izumi,” Zuko said.

She looked up at him.

“It was your first real fight,” he said. “Of course you froze. I’d be worried if you didn’t.”

He held her mask back out to her.

“You did perfectly,” he said again.

She set her jaw and took the mask. Zuko offered her a small smile that she didn’t return. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder as he rose.

He crossed the balloon to join Sokka at the opposite railing. Zuko leaned on the rail, staring out at the passing mountains.

“You’re sure the last soldier saw Izumi use both elements?” Zuko asked, very softly, so Izumi wouldn’t overhear.

Sokka nodded.

Zuko’s hands tightened on the railing, “Good.”

The Fire Nation knew that the Avatar was back.

 

.

Chapter 13: Book 2 - Part 4

Notes:

Cw: self harm. If that’s one you want to avoid you can just skip the whole first flashback. You do you babes 🤍

————————

Year 16, Day 181

 

The knock came on Katara’s door very late.

Katara had the place more or less to herself. Izumi was already asleep. She’d spent nearly the entire day training with Toph and had gone to bed early because of it. Zuko was away on a mission. Katara got up from the table and went to answer the door.

It was Suki. She was bundled against the cold and stood hunched in on herself.

Something was wrong.

“Suki,” she said. “Come in.”

Suki followed her into the room, stony faced and shivering. Katara took her wet coat and gently pushed her toward the chair closest to the fireplace. The teakettle on the stovetop sang.

“Tea?” She offered.

Suki hesitated, then nodded mutely.

Katara prepared them cups of a warming elderflower blend with ginger and cinnamon. It was the one that Zuko reached for the most when he complained about the cold climate.

Suki took the cup Katara offered her, “Is Izumi…”

“Asleep,” Katara said, settling across from her, blowing on her tea to cool it.

She could never get the temperature quite right. Zuko could hand her a cup of tea that was the perfect level of warmth to comfortably drink, hot enough to warm you through but not to scald your tongue. Katara couldn’t be that precise. Not without firebending. Izumi was getting better at it.

“What’s wrong?” Katara asked.

Suki took a deep breath. She started to speak, but stopped and sipped her tea instead. She tucked her legs up underneath her in her chair.

“I need your help,” she said.

Katara set down her tea, reaching for her best friend’s hand.

“Anything,” she said.

“Don’t say that before I tell you what it is,” Suki said with a wince.

Katara shook her head, “Anything. You know that.”

Suki looked down at her lap. She bit her lip.

“Katara, I’m pregnant,” she said.

Katara blinked, her mouth falling open a little. Suki and Sokka both had always been so adamant about not wanting children.

“I… wow,” was all Katara managed.

“I know,” Suki said dully.

“…are you ok?” It seemed the most important question to ask.

“No,” Suki said. “I feel…”

She trailed off. Either she didn’t know what to say or she didn’t want to admit it to Katara.

“Does Sokka know?”

Suki shook her head, “Not yet. I haven’t figured out how to tell him.”

Katara nodded. If she was shocked, it would be even more of a surprise for Sokka. She knew the two of them were practically religious about their contraceptives.

“…Can I ask what happened?” She asked.

Suki made a face, “We didn’t think I even could. You know, with all my old injuries. And it’s been so many years. But I guess we got careless. And I guess I can.”

Katara reached for Suki’s hand again.

“How far along are you?” Katara asked.

“Four, five weeks?” Suki guessed. “Give or take.”

Katara nodded to herself. “Ok. What do you need?”

Suki pulled her hand away. She wrapped both around her warm mug of tea. She didn’t look up at Katara. She took a deep breath and spoke in a rush.

“I need you to end it,” she said. “The pregnancy.”

Katara swallowed hard, “Of course. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Suki said, a hard bite to her voice.

“But can’t the healers here-”

“They can’t,” Suki cut her off. “They don’t have what I need. They offered to send for the right medicines, but it could take months to get them here and by then…”

“It might be too late,” Katara finished for her.

Suki nodded. Katara winced. Plus, with all the damage from Suki’s old wounds, who knew if it would even be safe for her to carry a pregnancy to term.

“But I’ve heard…” Suki hesitated again. “I’ve heard that there’s another way. That a powerful waterbender on the night of a full moon…”

Katara went cold, “Suki…”

“Can you do it?”

Katara swallowed hard. She knew it was possible, of course, to end a pregnancy with bloodbending.

But she shook her head, “Suki, I can’t.”

Suki’s eyes narrowed, “Can’t, or won’t?”

“It’s not like that. You know it’s not like that,” Katara said. She couldn’t sit still anymore and got up to pace the room, “I barely bloodbend as it is. I could… I could really hurt you.”

Suki pressed her lips together, shaking her head, “I trust you. And I need your help.”

“I want to, Suki. I do…”

“Katara, please,” Suki’s voice rose to a desperate pitch. “I can’t do this.”

“This?”

“This!” Suki’s hands dropped to her stomach, fingers knotting in her clothing, “I can’t bring a child into this fucked up hellscape of a world! I can’t bring a baby into a world where they’ll never survive! What kind of life is that?!”

Katara, thinking of Izumi in the next room, fought down the sob that rose in her chest.

“And maybe that makes me weak,” Suki said. “Maybe that makes me selfish. But I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

Katara crossed to Suki and threw her arms around her. Suki broke down in tears, clutching at Katara.

“I’m not as strong as you are,” Suki said softly.

“Yes you are,” Katara said. “You’re the strongest woman I know.”

Suki sniffed and gave a little laugh, “I’m going to tell Toph you said that.”

Katara laughed a little too.

But it was true. It took a special kind of strength to make a frightening choice because you knew it was the right one to make. It was the opposite choice than the one Katara and Zuko had made, when they’d found themselves in a similar position sixteen years ago. But…Katara understood. There was a reason she and Zuko never tried for any more children, even before they learned that Izumi was the Avatar.

She pulled back and dried her eyes. She took Suki by the shoulders.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” She asked.

Suki nodded, “I’m sure.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

Suki hugged Katara again, “Thank you.”

“We’ll have to wait for the full moon. It'll be next week.”

Suki nodded, “Eight days. I looked it up.”

Katara pulled away and looked Suki in the eye again, “And there’s one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“You have to tell Sokka.”

Suki nodded sadly.

“He’ll support you,” Katara said. “And you need to let him.”

And if something went wrong, and something happened to Suki, and Sokka didn’t know…Katara would never be able to forgive herself.

Suki nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell him in the morning.”

Katara gave Suki a small smile, “You’re going to be ok.”

Suki began to cry again, heavily this time, her sobs deep and aching. She dropped her hands to the tops of her thighs, compulsively pinching at the skin there in a way Katara hadn’t seen her do in years. Katara took Suki’s hands firmly in hers.

“You’re going to be ok,” Katara said again. “I promise.”

 

——————

 

16 years earlier

 

Suki couldn’t feel her feet.

Other pieces of her were fitting back together, like the cogs of a machine muscled back into place. She could breathe again without straining. She could roll over in bed without feeling like something in her abdomen was about to tear. She could lie on her back without the sensation of being stabbed.

But she couldn’t feel the useless blocks of bone and sinew at the end of her legs. Just a heavy numbness when she shifted her legs at the knee.

Her hand wasn’t much better. It rarely went numb in the same way, but it was just as useless.

Suki ran her hands over the tops of her legs. Spindly sticks of limbs, wasting away with disuse like plants someone had forgotten to water. She pressed the palms of her hands against the tops of her thighs, trying not to compare her right hand to her left, sliding them down her legs until she reached her knees, and the places where everything dropped away into hollowness.

She ground her teeth and swallowed a scream of frustration.

She almost preferred the days when they hurt. The days when her nerve endings burned with a hot pain that could only be soothed by sedatives, and sleep, hoping it would be gone again when she woke. At least the pain was real. At least when it hurt she knew her body was hers.

Suki growled and pinched at the soft flesh of her thighs. Not that there was much there to hold on to. But the sudden ache of the skin between her fingertips reminded her she was alive.

She reached further, folding herself down toward her knees. She reached for the frail string of muscle at the side of her calf with her non-dominant hand. The other wouldn’t have nearly the grip strength.

She knew better than to try this. She did it anyway.

She grasped at the side of her lower leg and pinched hard.

Nothing. She felt nothing.

She growled and drove her nail into the skin, splitting it. The sudden line of red startled her.

Blood welled and she felt nothing.

Suki let out a cry. Of grief, of anger, of frustration, of everything but pain. Even pain had been stolen from her. She grasped the senseless meat of her leg and squeezed until all five of her nails pierced her skin, leaving little red crescents behind.

And the door opened, admitting Sokka.

“Suki?” He said, his eyes wide and concerned.

Suki lifted her hand, rushing to dry her eyes, fighting down her cries. The blood under her nails smeared on her face.

“Suki!”

Sokka rushed to her, dropping to his knees beside their bed. He took both her hands in one of his and held them firm against his chest. She tried to wriggle free, but Sokka’s other arm closed around her back, holding her to him. She was too frail to resist.

“Suki,” Sokka breathed, his hand traveling to the back of her head as she stilled against him, “Sweetheart…”

He shifted so he could hold her with both arms, her hands, one useless and the other her only weapon, still trapped tight between his chest and hers.

“Suki, please don’t,” he said softly, pleading. “Please don’t do this. I’m so sorry.”

She twisted in his grasp again and this time he let her go. His hand came up and cleaned the smear of blood from her face. She let him, but couldn’t make herself meet his eyes. She knew what she would see in his face if she did.

He took her good hand in his again. Tight.

“You’re going to be ok,” Sokka said. “I promise.”

He was lying. He didn’t know he was lying, but he was. It was so easy for him to say. Easy for Sokka, who had been a new man ever since Iroh had sent him to recover with Piandao. Sokka, who wore a prosthetic he’d built himself and moved like it was a part of him.

As if he knew anything. As if he could promise anything.

Sokka rose. He grabbed an empty teacup from their bedside table and pressed it into her good hand.

“Hold that,” he said. “I’ll get a bandage.”

Bandage?

Oh right. For her leg. For those crescents that still wept her blood.

Having something else to hold distracted her. She gripped the cup as tightly as she could as Sokka returned and wrapped the wounds she’d made in her dead limb. He looked up at her as he finished.

“Suki…”

She reached for him. Shame and desperation overtaking her anger and jealousy. Sokka folded her into his arms. He told her it was ok. She would be ok. He promised it.

He lied. Suki knew she would spend the rest of her life fighting to be sure her body was hers. And there was nothing that Sokka, or anyone, could do to fix that.

 

—————————

 

Year 16, Day 186

 

Earthbending was hard. Certainly the hardest element Izumi’d had to learn so far. Maybe because it was the element that she didn’t have the bloodlines for. Auntie Toph insisted that she was making progress, but Izumi couldn’t see it.

But even earthbending wasn’t the hardest thing Izumi had to learn.

Chi blocking. Chi blocking was hard.

It shouldn’t be this hard. It was just precision. Izumi was a firebender. She could do precision.

She attacked the dummy again. The charcoal she’d brushed on her hands left black smudges against the pale fabric of the straw-stuffed scarecrow. It was the only way to know if she was being precise enough without practicing on an actual person, which, when she did it right, incapacitated them for a while. Granted, she only did it right about half the time, but Izumi had still caught a bunch of the rebellion’s warriors and benders drawing straws once, with the loser having to be her latest practice target.

Auntie Ty always let Izumi practice on her, as they reached the end of their practice sessions. But if Izumi successfully blocked Auntie Ty’s chi, it meant they were done for the day. She couldn’t exactly train her when her limbs didn’t work.

“Yes, that’s better!” Auntie Ty said.

All the pressure points did different things, and there were just so many of them. And they were all so spiritsfucking small. The chi points to immobilize a limb were different than the points to block bending. The right chi point near a person’s spine could make both legs go out at once. The right point in the neck dropped someone completely.

Auntie hadn’t let her try that last one yet. It was for “special occasions.”

“Like what?” a much younger Izumi (by which she meant maybe thirteen) had asked. This had been back when her training with Auntie Ty had mostly consisted of them laying on the ground stretching anyway.

“Like helping my best friend escape from prison,” Auntie had said.

Izumi had dropped the subject. Even back then, Izumi had known that Auntie Ty’s years in prison weren’t something you asked about. But she’d eventually gotten the whole story out of her: how she’d helped her friend Mai fake sick, when really all that was wrong with her was the fact that Auntie Ty had blocked her chi in a couple of places, including that chi point in the neck that left her unconscious. She was sent to the medical facilities to recover, and the security there was far less tight, so when the chi blocking wore off… Auntie Ty didn’t know for sure if Mai had escaped or not, but she hadn’t returned to the cell block, so she hoped.

“Why didn’t you do it to yourself too?” Izumi asked.

Auntie Ty shook her head, “you can’t chi block yourself. Trust me. I tried.”

Izumi hadn’t asked again.

 

——————

 

5 years earlier

 

Ty Lee sat on the bed in the little room they’d given her, her knees pulled into her chest, staring at nothing.

She’d been at the air temple for about a month. They’d only just stopped having someone follow her around, making sure she wasn’t reporting back to anyone in the fire nation.

Like she’d even be able to do that. She could barely make herself do anything. She’d spent eleven years dreaming of freedom, and now that she had it, she didn’t know what to do with it.

She wasn’t even sure she knew how to explain what her endless captivity had done to her. And even if she could, she didn’t think anyone would understand. Suki and Iroh both tried. Bless them they did try. They’d both spent time in fire nation prisons. They knew what it was like, to a point.

But they’d both been there…what, a few months at most? Take how those months felt, she wanted to say, and multiply by a decade. More than a decade.

Ty Lee had been a prisoner for so long, she’d all but forgotten what it felt like to make choices. Or to want anything. Her entire existence had been regimented out into meal times, hours in the yard, lights out. Even the moments that were somewhat hers, the times when she stretched her limbs and balanced on her hands just to prove she still could, didn’t feel like her choice. It had been so impossible, so dangerous, to want anything. If she decided she wanted something other than what she was handed, she’d have gone out of her mind with desperation.

Finally free, and she still felt trapped.

Suddenly a loud knock came at the door.

“You in there, Princess? I’m comin’ in!”

The door flew open, banging against the wall, and Toph swept in. She stormed right across the room and started building a fire in the hearth. It was…refreshing. Everyone at the temple stepped so carefully around Ty Lee, like she might break if touched wrong. Toph just swept in and started taking up space.

The blaze caught and Toph hung the teakettle.

“We’re having tea,” Toph said.

She went to the cupboard and started pulling the tea packets loose. Iroh had given her so many different varieties. It was very kind of him, but it was so overwhelming. Toph lifted the packets to her nose, smelling them to determine the contents.

“Jasmine or oolong?” Toph asked.

Ty Lee froze. She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She tried again.

“You decide,” she said.

“Nope. Not doin’ that,” Toph said, her voice kind, but insistent, “Simple choice, Princess. Jasmine, or oolong?”

Ty Lee sucked in a deep breath, “Jasmine.”

“Great.”

Toph started preparing the tea. In minutes, there were two teacups on the table. Toph sat down, looking over at Ty Lee.

“You coming?” She asked.

Ty Lee got up, and made her way to the table. She took the teacup in her hands, staring down into it. The warmth felt nice. She could feel Toph studying her.

“I know everyone thinks you’re fragile,” Toph said. “But I think that’s a load of rhinoshit.”

Ty Lee looked up at her. Toph’s aura was a safe, soothing green.

“I think you’re tougher than the rest of us put together,” Toph went on.

Toph folded her legs up underneath her on her chair. She looked deeply uncomfortable as she did, her aura flickering. Toph took one deep breath, and then dropped her feet back to the floor in a hurry.

“This war can fuck you up in all sorts of ways that no one can see,” she said. “…I’ve got some experience with that.”

Ty Lee bit her lip, looking away again.

“You’re going to be ok, Princess,” Toph said.

Ty Lee thought for a moment, sipping her tea.

“I’m… not sure that I like ‘Princess,’” she said, timid and embarrassed.

Toph glowed.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Toph said. “We’ll workshop it. See, you can do this. You’re gonna be just fine.”

And this time, Ty Lee thought maybe she believed her.

 

————————

 

Auntie Toph joined them on the training grounds, marching over to Auntie Ty, who beamed as she approached. Auntie Toph greeted her by taking her hand and going up on her toes to give Auntie Ty a kiss on the cheek.

Izumi turned to them, brushing the last of the soot from her fingertips.

“Hey Auntie,” she said.

Earthbending hadn’t been on the schedule for the day, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d ended up doing some unscheduled training.

“Your pincushion has arrived!” Auntie Toph said.

“What?” Izumi balked, “no!”

“Yes!”

“…no.”

“Yup! Come on, give me your best shot!”

Izumi looked at Auntie Ty, who grinned and nodded at her. So Izumi squared up in front of Auntie Toph, settling deep into her knees. Auntie Toph presented an even smaller target than the practice dummy. Izumi had been taller than Auntie Toph since she was twelve.

Izumi lowered her hands.

“This is ridiculous,” she grumbled. “No one on any mission is just going to stand there and wait for me to hit them.”

“Yeah, but you had to learn how to do a cartwheel before you could do a backflip,” Auntie Toph said, spreading her arms a little wider. “Come on Cricket. Hit me!”

Izumi attacked. She leapt in, aiming for the points in Auntie Toph’s side that would stop her from bending.

Auntie Toph’s arm fell heavily to her side.

“Yes!” Auntie Ty said. “Good work!”

“…I was aiming for the one that would stop her bending,” Izumi admitted, eyes downcast.

“Well next time don’t tell us that and we’ll think you did it perfect!” Auntie Toph said with a laugh.

Izumi grimaced, “but then I wouldn’t learn anything.”

Auntie Toph rolled her eyes, “and knowing how to bullshit your way through a test is a key marker of success!”

That got a laugh out of Izumi. Ty Lee chuckled too.

“Ok,” Auntie Ty said. “Now me.”

She spread her arms, and Izumi attacked.

They kept at it until both her Aunties were in heaps on the ground, limbs immobilized and Toph’s bending temporarily blocked. It would wear off soon. Auntie Toph was already getting a little feeling back in the arm Izumi had hit first. Her Aunties snuggled against each other on the ground, barely able to move, both of them giggling like schoolgirls.

Izumi stood over them awkwardly.

“Get down here,” Auntie Toph ordered, half beckoning toward Izumi with her one arm that sort of half worked.

Izumi flopped down onto the ground and landed with her head on Auntie Toph’s stomach. Auntie Toph made a silly little “oof” sound that made all of them laugh again.

“See that cloud?” Auntie Toph said. “It looks like a caribou elk.”

“Which one?” Auntie Ty asked.

“You’ve never seen a caribou elk,” Izumi said. “…or a cloud.”

Auntie Toph cackled.

“Toph!” Auntie Ty teased. “If I could use my arms right now I’d-”

“What?” Auntie Toph teased right back, “hit your own forehead because you forgot I’m blind??”

All three of them dissolved into laughs again.

If only training could always feel like this. Training was hard, but on its best days, it was also fun. She didn’t get a ton of time just to have fun anymore. Izumi smiled up at the sky.

…and spotted a cloud that did look a great deal like a caribou elk. Or like one of Uncle Sokka’s drawings of the caribou elks at the South Pole.

So in retrospect, it probably didn’t look much like a caribou elk at all.

 

————————

 

Year 16, Day 189

 

On nights when the moon was full, If Katara concentrated, she could feel everyone’s blood circulating through their veins.

When she used her waterbending, water became an extension of herself. An extra limb she could flex at will. Bloodbending felt different. The control was the same, the subtle, almost instinctual way she could command someone’s blood to move. But it didn’t feel like an extension of her. She could feel that it was foreign, and that she was forcing herself on it against its will.

Katara reminded herself with every breath that Suki had asked for this. She’d consented, knowing exactly what it would entail. The end result would be a positive one.

Did the ends justify the means? That was a question Katara asked herself often, and not just about her bloodbending. Bloodbending just had a way of making the question uniquely tangible.

And that night, with the moon bright and full, Katara used her bloodbending to help Suki and Sokka.

After, with Suki resting, Sokka placed a light kiss on his sleeping partner’s forehead and crossed to Katara. There had been a little bit of cramping pain. A little bit of blood. But mostly there had been relief.

Sokka handed her a cup of tea. Mint and chamomile. Calming. Katara pressed her cold hands against the warm mug. Her hands shook a little, now that it was done.

“Thank you,” Sokka said, sitting across from her at their kitchen table.

Katara just nodded, “Keep an eye on her tonight. And make sure she rests tomorrow. If she gets a fever, or if she’s in pain or if there’s a lot of bleeding, come get me right away.”

Sokka nodded. He heaved a heavy sigh, his jaw tight with worry. Katara noticed the flecks of gray in his hair, near his temples. Sokka was barely approaching forty and already going gray. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his prosthetic rattling as he shifted.

“I’m serious, Katara,” he said. “Thank you.”

Katara swallowed hard, “For you two? Anything.”

They finished their tea in silence. She handed her empty cup back to Sokka.

“Do you want me to walk back with you?” He asked.

Katara shook her head, “Stay with Suki. I’ll be fine.”

He hugged her goodbye, and she left. She made the walk back across the temple slowly. She needed to breathe. To clear her head.

She looked up at the full moon, then down at her hands. This ability loomed over her like a curse, but tonight, she had used it to help.

She was running out of excuses not to teach Izumi.

Katara brushed a forceful hand over her eyes and kept walking.

There was a light still lit in her and Zuko’s room. She let herself in quietly. A candle burned steadily on the bedside table. Zuko sat half upright against the headboard of their bed, fast asleep.

Katara smiled softly. He’d tried to wait up for her. He blinked awake as she snuffed the candle and climbed into bed next to him.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing sleepily at his eyes.

“Hey,” she said, settling into his shoulder.

He put his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Did everything go ok?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Katara replied. “It worked. And Suki’s fine.”

“Good,” Zuko breathed.

He lifted Katara’s face toward his and gave her a gentle kiss. Katara lowered her eyes and buried her face in his neck. He pulled her a little closer to his chest.

“You did the right thing,” he said.

“I know.”

At least in the morning that power would be gone. Out of reach again until the next full moon.

“I…I have to teach Izumi,” she said.

Zuko let out a long breath.

“Ok,” was all he said.

She loved him for that. After all this time dragging her feet, he didn’t berate or reprimand her for it.

“Next full moon,” Katara said. “Next full moon I’ll do it.”

Zuko held her a little tighter, “Good.”

Katara felt a tear slip from her eye. She brushed it away and curled closer into Zuko’s chest. She had to give Izumi all the information she could. She deserved that. Their beautiful girl, she deserved that. And she deserved to be able to make her own decisions about it. Katara had leaned about bloodbending when she wasn’t that much older than Izumi. It was time.

She buried her face in Zuko’s shoulder, and he held her until she fell asleep.

 

.

Chapter 14: Book 2 - Part 5

Year 17, Day 302

 

The thing about fighting a regime as powerful as the Fire Nation was that even their successes rarely felt like successes for long.

Their entire strategy hinged on not going toe to toe with the Fire Nation’s armies. Their rebellion, strong as it was growing, was no match for the invaders’ firepower. They had to stretch the fire nation thin. Harry them into choosing to retreat and regroup on their own. Cripple their operations with small, precise strikes. Small victories. Small victories meant they were gathering the support and momentum they needed to make one large push later when they were ready.

When a cell of the rebellion forced the Fire Nation to retreat from a highly strategic earth kingdom town, Zuko had celebrated.

Sokka hadn’t.

“It’s too big a move,” Sokka said. “We cautioned them against it. It’s a bold strike, and the Fire Nation isn’t going to stand for it.”

So when the Fire Nation swept in and swiftly and brutally retook the city, Azula at the head of the force, not even Zuko was surprised.

Sokka spent days bent over maps and lists with Iroh, trying to salvage whatever they could.

“We need to restore morale in that area,” Sokka said. “A defeat like this looks really bad. We don’t want the people there to give up.”

“What do we do?” Izumi asked.

His daughter had a hard, determined look on her face. She’d only just turned sixteen, but Izumi already carried herself like an adult.

“The Fire Nation took a lot of prisoners when they retook the city, and our reports say that they’re being kept in the warehouse district, near where they’ve set up their outpost,” Sokka said. He pushed his notebook toward Izumi, “So we’re going to break them out.”

 

—————

Year 17, Day 308

 

They let Izumi scout ahead. It made Zuko a little sick to watch her disappear into the streets alone, but even he had to admit that Izumi was incredibly good at this. Lighter on her feet than even he’d been at her age. Already developing a bit of the same seismic sense that Toph used to see the world.

But Zuko still sighed in relief when Izumi melted back out of the shadows, tipping her mask up on top of her head.

Her mask was green today. They put her in a different color every time, so their opponents wouldn’t know which of them was the Avatar.

“I found the warehouse,” she said. “Right where Sokka said it would be. And there are definitely people inside.”

“Guarded?” Suki asked.

They’d brought a small team. Just Izumi, himself, Suki, Akano, and Kenshin. Every prisoner in that warehouse would be a fighter. Once they had them out they would be able to help fight their own way free.

Izumi nodded, “I counted eight. A pair on each side of the building. But the fire nation camp isn’t far. If they raise an alarm they’ll have backup real quick.”

“We’ll have to go in quick and quiet,” Suki said.

She bent down, sketching out a rectangle in the dirt to indicate the warehouse. Izumi made divots in the places where she’d seen the guards.

“Akano, take lookout,” Suki ordered. “Kenshin and I will take out the guards on the west and north sides. Izumi and Zuko, take the east and south. We’ll need to take them out silently or they’ll raise an alarm.”

Izumi gave a firm nod and pulled her mask down over her face. Zuko resettled his swords across his back. Suki readied her fans and Kenshin and Akano checked their weapons.

Zuko looked to Suki, who nodded and moved them in.

Zuko approached the east side of the warehouse with Izumi half a step behind him. Two guards faced out into the night, watching by the light of several low lanterns. He caught Izumi’s eye and nodded.

They’d been on enough missions together -the Blue Spirit and the Avatar- that they knew what to do without any further discussion. Izumi crept out of the shadows, just barely visible, so the guards turned to her. Zuko melted out of the darkness behind them while they were distracted and downed them both.

Their backs to the warehouse wall, Zuko peered around the corner. The next two guards stood as quietly as ever, unaware that their comrades were falling around them.

He signaled to Izumi. He would take the closer one, and she would take the farther. She was better than him at covering that much ground that quickly. She nodded.

Zuko moved. The first soldier spun and met Zuko with a drawn blade. He ducked the strike and dove in. One of his blades hit the guard’s armor with a loud metallic ring. The other found the weak place underneath the soldiers’s arm, and he dropped with a cry, dead in moments.

Zuko cringed. Hopefully none of the other soldiers had heard that.

Izumi had blown past him with incredible speed and tripped the other soldier with a water whip to the ankle. She yanked his leg out from under him and he fell hard with a grunt. Izumi dropped the water and trapped the man’s hands and feet in the earth.

It was taking too long. That man was going to call for help any second.

But he didn’t, even as Zuko leapt to help Izumi finish the job. Izumi beat him to it, drawing her blades and knocking the man out with a hilt to the head.

Zuko met Izumi’s eyes as she resheathed her blades, nodding to her. For all her time in the field, as far as Zuko knew, Izumi hadn’t yet taken a life. He wasn’t going to push her into that unless he absolutely had to. Unconscious and trapped was good enough.

They rushed to meet the rest of the team at the door, where Akano already knelt, picking the lock. A moment later, the door clicked open, and, with Suki at the front, they swept into the warehouse.

What they found wasn’t what Zuko had expected.

The warehouse was nearly empty. Dotted with crates and war vehicles and an empty cart. But…Izumi had sensed people.

…They needed to get out of here.

“Fall back!” He hissed, turning back the way he’d come.

And that was when the largest stack of crates burst into flame.

 

————

 

Izumi was thrown to the ground by the force of the explosion. Shaken, her ears ringing but unhurt, she scrambled to her feet.

Soldiers flooded out from behind the crates and machinery. The empty cart had overturned, tipped onto its side. Suki was dragging someone away from the blaze that used to be a pile of crates. She couldn’t see the others.

The smoke in the room was already making it difficult to see. Izumi ripped off her shoes, trying to see with her feet. But there was too much happening. The vibrations were too muddled for her to parse.

Izumi broke her water from its flask, striking out at the nearest soldier and battering him until he fell.

She spotted Dad. And he was in trouble. He was pinned down behind the overturned cart, surrounded by three soldiers, all firebenders. Any attempt he made to escape to safety was met by immediate blasts of fire.

Izumi sprang toward them, winding up with her water.

The firebenders attacked in chorus and the cart burst into flame. Dad stumbled back, hands raised to protect himself from the blaze.

Izumi was already in motion. She whipped her water at the closest soldier, yanking his feet out from under him. The remaining two converged on her dad. He met them both, deflecting their flames with his own bending.

One landed a kick on the side of her dad’s knee. He cried out as his leg buckled. He tried to rise and couldn’t.

“Dad!” She shrieked.

Both firebenders squared up to strike.

“Dad no!” Izumi screamed.

She reached for her own firebending.

 

…Power.

 

——————

 

Zuko collapsed. He couldn’t move his leg. He couldn’t get up. He was staring down two firebenders and he couldn’t even get back on his feet.

Spirits this was it wasn’t it?

“Dad no!”

Izumi.

Agni, his luck was out and Izumi was watching. He snarled desperately and scrambled to block the attacks.

A glow lit the room.

Both Zuko’s assailants turned. He took their moment of distraction to scramble backwards, dragging his leg.

It was Izumi. Her eyes glowed white. Her arms were poised in a sharp stance that looked like it was meant for firebending. Then, with a fierce cry, she swept her arms in toward her chest, then pushed outward with both hands.

Zuko ducked.

The first wave was water. The ring of it took Zuko’s attackers, and anyone else in the room who was still upright, in the gut, toppling them.

Next came fire. Zuko shielded his face as their enemies cowered, pressing themselves into the ground.

Then the earth launched them upward. Every single enemy soldier was pitched up from the ground, screaming, hurled into the air to fall in crumpled heaps.

Then, just as Zuko attempted to regain his footing, air.

A blast of air radiated out from Izumi. Airbending. The first display of airbending anyone had seen in over sixteen years. It knocked Zuko back to the ground. It threw fire nation soldiers against the walls and scattered debris.

Suddenly Suki was at his side, dragging Zuko to his feet. His leg wobbled wrongly at the knee, but he gathered himself and stumbled toward Izumi with Suki.

“Izumi!” He called to her.

She didn’t respond. Maybe she couldn’t hear him. Maybe she was too caught up in the power of all the past Avatars to care.

Any enemy soldier that tried to rise was thrown back to the ground by bursts of water or gusts of air. Or swallowed by the earth. Or downed by flames.

“Izumi!” He shouted again, pulling away from Suki and staggering the last few paces, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

Her head snapped toward him. In the scuffle, she’d lost her mask. The look on her face didn’t look anything like his daughter.

“Izumi,” he said, softer this time. Pleading.

His hand closed around her wrist. He tugged.

She shifted toward him. He grabbed at her, pulling her into his chest. Zuko collapsed as her weight hit him, his leg folding under him with a painful twist. He stifled his cry and pressed his daughter into his chest, his hand on the back of her head.

The earth stilled. The wind stopped. Water and fire melted away.

When Izumi looked up at him, her eyes were hers again.

“Dad?” She said, confused and tentative.

“Izumi,” he breathed. “Are you ok?”

“I…what happened?” She asked, dazed.

Zuko looked around. Every single one of their enemies lay in an unmoving huddle on the ground. He pressed Izumi’s head back against his chest so she wouldn’t have to see. It was a mark of how shaken she was that she let him.

“You saved us,” he said.

Suki came again to help him up. Zuko let Suki take his weight on his injured side, keeping his other arm around Izumi’s shoulders.

Izumi’s eyes traveled across the warehouse. Zuko tried to turn her away again but she pushed free of his hold. She took in the crumpled soldiers, all the destruction she had wreaked in a matter of moments, with a look of horror.

“Dad…” she said.

“Come here,” he said, holding his arm out to her.

She rushed to him, tucking her head back into his shoulder.

“Dad,” she said, desperately, “Dad, I didn’t mean to. I…”

“I know,” he said. “It’s ok. You saved us.”

“Izumi!” Akano called.

Akano knelt by Kenshin. Fuck, Kenshin was down. Kenshin was down and Izumi, their only healer, was as battle shocked as he had ever seen her.

But Izumi, -brave, wonderful, Izumi- lifted her head, saw Kenshin on the ground, and ran to him.

Kenshin had burns across his chest and a huge splinter of wood buried in his upper arm. Izumi, her breath shallow but her hands steady, yanked the fragment from his wound and sealed it with her waterbending. The burns could wait. Zuko’s leg could wait. They needed to vanish before more soldiers showed up.

Akano helped Kenshin to his feet. Kenshin groaned and swayed, but stayed upright. Suki helped Zuko hobble toward their escape.

Izumi stood frozen.

Zuko looked back at the battlefield one more time. At the gut wrenching damage Izumi had left in her wake.

His heart broke for her.

“Izumi,” he called, reaching for her.

She slipped her hand into his in a way she hadn’t done since she was small.

They retreated.

 

————————

 

Zuko’s leg was dislocated at the knee. Suki had reset it with the unflinching efficiency of a field surgeon on the balloon ride back. Now, Katara worked on it with water-wrapped hands, soothing the torn ligaments so the joint would be stable again. Normally, Izumi would have healed it before they got back to the temple. But right now…

Katara threw a glance over her shoulder, where Izumi sat in a huddle at the kitchen table, a hot cup of tea in front of her that she hadn’t touched. Iroh sat across from her, speaking to her in a soft tone that Katara couldn’t hear.

Zuko had told her everything.

“It was a trap,” he said. “And we walked right into it.”

They’d been swarmed by fire nation soldiers.

Izumi had gone into the Avatar state.

Zuko shifted his leg, testing the joint.

“Better?” She asked him.

He nodded. Katara retrieved a long length of bandage and wrapped it securely. Zuko caught her hand as she finished, pressing her fingers to his lips. She gave him a sad, tight smile.

Zuko would heal. So would Kenshin. The mission had failed, but Izumi had kept them safe. Katara wanted to be proud, but she just felt sick.

Iroh shuffled over to them, a cup of tea in each hand. He held one out to each of them.

“Izumi and I are going to go for a walk,” he said.

Izumi still had that broken look in her eyes. Katara nodded gratefully at Iroh. She remembered all too well all the times she’d tried to soothe Aang after his moments in the Avatar state. Doing that again, with her own daughter…

Iroh squeezed Katara’s shoulder. He nodded solemnly at Zuko, who nodded back. Then he turned and ushered Izumi gently out of the room.

Finally alone, Katara sat down heavily next to Zuko. She nestled into his shoulder and he settled an arm around her.

“How many soldiers?” She asked.

“Fifteen,” Zuko said heavily.

“…And how many did she-”

“All of them.”

Katara swallowed hard. She took a gulp of her tea that burned her throat.

“It was awful,” Zuko said, his voice small and quiet.

In that moment, Katara realized something.

“…you never saw Aang in the Avatar state,” she said, “did you.”

Zuko shook his head, “just… the once? I think. In Ba Sing Se?”

Right. Aang had gone into the Avatar state in the caverns beneath Ba Sing Se, but he’d only been in it for a moment, and then Azula had struck him, and…

Zuko shifted and put his head down on her shoulder. Katara put her arms around him as he clung to her.

“The look on her face,” he said, his voice muffled. “It was…it wasn’t her. I couldn’t…”

Katara held Zuko to her, one hand on the back of his head. She knew how terrible it had felt to see Aang like that. Having to see Izumi like that…she couldn’t imagine and didn’t want to.

“She saved my life,” Zuko said, his voice choked, “I…I thought I was gone. And Izumi…”

His voice did break into a sob then.

“I’m supposed to protect her,” he said. “Not… not this.”

Katara ran a hand through his hair as he clung to her. It had grown so long, and had the same texture as Izumi’s.

“It’s ok,” she said softly. “You’re both safe. It’ll be ok.”

She wasn’t sure of that at all. But she needed to be strong for him right now. Just like he would be strong for her the next time she needed it.

So she held him. She pressed her lips to his forehead. She told him everything would be all right.

What else could either of them do?

 

—————————

 

Izumi followed Grandfather through the corridors of the temple down to the rocky outcropping that overlooked the mountainside. It was covered from above by an overhanging ridge, and it gave a view out into the mountain peaks beyond the temple.

She walked in a heady daze. Every step took effort. She didn’t quite feel…real. She looked down at her hands as she and Grandfather came to a stop.

She’d killed over a dozen soldiers and she didn’t even remember doing it.

“Take a deep breath,” Grandfather said, stepping up beside her, facing the open air.

Izumi tried. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe consciously but even the empty spaces in her chest didn’t quite feel like hers.

She felt Grandfather’s hands fall gently onto the tops of her shoulders, a comforting, anchoring weight.

“Breathe,” he said again.

She took a deep breath. It almost choked her. Grandfather's grip tightened. She tried again, taking another slow breath, one that went all the way down into her stomach.

“That’s it,” Grandfather said softly.

Izumi took another breath. After a few more, Grandfather’s hands lifted.

“Arms up,” he said. “Stretch.”

Izumi raised her arms over her head, rising onto her toes and stretching her muscles long.

“Good. And down.”

Izumi folded like Auntie Ty had taught her, sinking into her knees and hinging at the hips, wrapping her fingers around the arches of her feet before straightening her legs. She stayed there for a long moment, breathing.

She rolled back upright to find Grandfather in front of her with a soft smile on his face. Without speaking, he began working through a tai chi form. She fell into step beside him and joined him.

By the time they completed the pattern, Izumi’s body almost felt like it was hers again.

Grandfather sat down and patted the stone next to him. Izumi sat. He reached into the bag at his side and produced a clay jug. From it, he poured them fresh cups of tea.

“What do you know about the Avatar State?” He asked as he handed her the cup.

Izumi sipped from it. It was a rich oolong flavored with berries.

“Only what you’ve told me,” she said. “That it’s a state the Avatar can use to wield all the elements at once. And it draws power from my past lives. And…and that if I die in the Avatar state so does the Avatar cycle.”

Grandfather nodded.

“That’s what happened on the mission,” she said. “Isn’t it.”

Grandfather nodded again.

“But I don’t remember it,” she said. “I don’t know what I was doing or how I got into it in the first place or…”

Grandfather stopped her with a gentle hand on her knee.

“The Avatar State is a powerful weapon when it’s mastered,” he said. “But you can also enter the Avatar state in moments of intense emotion. Fear or grief or anger or pain…”

Izumi looked down into her teacup. She’d been terrified right before she’d gone into the Avatar state, so worried she was about to watch her dad die right in front of her. She’d reached for her firebending and…the next thing she remembered was finding herself on the ground, hugging him. With fifteen dead soldiers all around them.

“Why don’t I remember it?” She asked.

“Because when the Avatar state is triggered as a defense mechanism, you are not in control of it,” Grandfather replied. “It controls you.”

Izumi shook her head, “I never want to feel like that again.”

“I don’t blame you.”

He took another sip of his tea.

“In time,” he said, “we will work on your mastery of the Avatar state. After you have completed your earthbending training with Master Toph.”

Izumi felt a spike of fear, “I don’t know if I want to.”

“It will be all right,” Grandfather assured her. “When you enter the Avatar State on purpose, you will be the one in control. You will be aware of what you’re doing, and you will remember.”

Izumi stared down into her tea, rubbing her thumb against the lip of her cup.

“I didn’t mean to,” she said, a tear pulling from her eye. “I didn’t want to hurt all those soldiers. I…I didn’t want to kill any of them. I didn’t…”

Grandfather pulled her into his arms. Her tears finally broke. His hand traced soothing lines down her back as she cried.

“I know, Izumi,” he said. “I know.”

She cried into his shoulder, his long beard rough against her cheek.

“Every soldier causes deaths he didn’t intend,” Grandfather went on. “It’s one of the greatest tragedies of war. You never quite know who you are going to hurt.”

“I don’t want,” she said, between gasping breaths, “to cause deaths at all!”

She knew that was an unrealistic thing to want. She was the Avatar. They were at war. But Agni, she hated it.

“I know,” Grandfather said softly. “I know. The best soldiers never do. That’s not a weakness. That is an incredible strength.”

Izumi didn’t feel strong. She felt awful. How on earth was she ever going to learn to live with this kind of guilt?

Grandfather did it. Mom and Dad both did it. Uncle Sokka and all her aunties…

“It hurts to care,” Grandfather added, “but it also keeps you alive.”

His hand settled on the back of her head.

“You’ll be ok, my girl. You’ll be ok.”

 

———————

Year 17, Day 314

 

The new wanted poster appeared before the week was out. Ty Lee brought it to Sokka when she returned from her latest mission, and Sokka brought it to Katara and Zuko.

A reward, a massive one, was finally being offered for the Avatar. And it had an accurate sketch of Izumi.

“How?” Katara asked, spitting the word like an accusation.

“She lost her mask,” Zuko said, “when she went into the Avatar state. Someone must have seen her as we retreated.”

…that guard that they’d left alive? Restrained by earthbending, but alive?

Zuko was still resting his leg, so all he could do was hold out a hand to Katara. She huffed a frustrated sigh, but took his hand.

“This is…good, in a way,” Sokka said. “If we want her to be a symbol for the people, they should be able to recognize her. It would have been better if we had chosen the moment, but…this will work.”

“Yeah,” Katara grumbled. “It’ll work all right.”

She yanked her hand away from Zuko’s and tore the paper in half.

 

.

Chapter 15: Book 2 - Part 6

Year 19, Day 11

 

Blindfolded, barefoot, Izumi slid the soles of her feet over the ground.

There were four of them on the training field with her. Auntie Toph, and three other earthbenders from the temple. Liuli, Shinji, and Suzu. She’d been on missions with all of them at some point or other.

The first attack came from the left. She felt the earth buckle and ripple toward her. She raised a low wall, halting the other earthbender’s attack before shoving a piece of it back toward them. They dodged, ducking for cover.

She felt the one at her right move. From their footfalls she guessed their path and raised a bit of rock to trip them. They fell, skidding in the dirt.

The next attack came from behind her. Izumi dodged, twisting in the air and coming down in a crouch. The earth rippled out around her like rings in a pond. She felt the attacker stumble. She pivoted, raised and kicked a small rock, and it took them in the stomach.

Just one left. Just one more attacker and she would prove her mastery of earthbending.

And with that thought, she lost focus. She sank a little deeper into her knees and tried to ground herself, almost like she did when Dad had her practice the form for redirecting lighting, but the earth beneath her feet felt muddled.

Someone was moving to her left. Wait, no they were behind her now.

Izumi flailed and launched a rock haphazardly in her assailant's direction.

Instead, the attacker’s rock took her in the side, and she fell hard with a grunt of pain.

“Hold!” Auntie Toph called.

Izumi sat up, clutching her side. She tore the blindfold off her eyes and tried to catch her breath, wincing.

“What’s going on?” Auntie Toph asked, striding over to her.

“I don’t know,” Izumi said, looking away.

“You’re better than this, Cricket,” Auntie said. “I’ve seen you stop attacks like that in your sleep! What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know!” Izumi said again.

She pressed her hands to her forehead.

She wasn’t a master earthbender. She probably wouldn’t be for a long time.

“I’m no good at this!” She shouted. “I’m barely an earthbender! How am I supposed to move on to my next phase of training when-”

And all of a sudden she couldn’t breathe.

Auntie Toph cleared the field. Izumi put her head down on her knees, but with her feet still pressed to the ground she could feel everyone else leave. Just like she felt Auntie cross back to her and sit down in front of her, cross legged with her elbows on her knees.

“Take it from someone who’s spent a whole lifetime pretending not to be scared,” Auntie Toph said. “The only way to get through something like this is to face it head on.”

Izumi lifted her head, fighting through the tightness in her chest to give Auntie Toph a small smile. That was such earthbender advice. Mom would have told her to take it as it comes. Dad would have told her to trust in her own inner strength to make it through.

But if she passed this test, she’d be considered a fully trained earthbender. If she passed this test, that was three of the four elements down.

And the only one left was the impossible one. The one with no living practitioners. The one she couldn’t possibly hope to learn. The one that would leave her always a little deficient. The weakest Avatar the world had yet seen. Unbalanced, and unfinished.

She had no idea what kind of advice an airbender might give her.

“Look,” Auntie Toph said. “I get it. Who wants to learn to airbend anyway? When there’s all these perfectly good rocks lying around? Come on.”

Izumi managed a smile.

“But if I know this team, I know they’ve already got a plan,” Auntie Toph went on. She tipped her head to the side, “It may not be a good plan, but it’ll be a plan.”

Izumi laughed.

“You’ve got this, kiddo,” Auntie said. “You’re one hell of a bender. You’ll figure it out.”

Izumi took a deep breath.

Auntie Toph stood, “Ready to give it another go?”

She held out her hand to Izumi, who took it and let Auntie Toph pull her to her feet.

 

———————

 

Year 19, Day 13

 

That morning, Grandfather said he had something to show her. Something important. He led Izumi to the smallest meeting room, deep within the temple.

He moved more slowly than he used to. Izumi had begun noticing that only recently, but Grandfather moved a bit more stiffly, complaining of his joints more often. She offered him her elbow, and he took it.

In the hall, they ran into Uncle Sokka. Uncle carried a small wooden chest, held shut with a heavy padlock, in front of him.

Iroh shuffled for a chair, and Uncle Sokka hefted the little chest up onto the table. Grandfather pulled a key from around his neck, and with a sense of deep reverence, opened the chest.

Inside was…books. Books and scrolls and even a few loose sheafs of paper.

“What is all this?” Izumi asked.

“This,” Iroh said. “Is everything we know about airbending.”

Izumi’s heart began to race. She reached toward the chest. Picked up one of the scrolls and gently unrolled it. The paper was brittle and fragile, the ink faded, but she could make out the sketches of an airbending form.

“We searched all four temples,” Uncle Sokka told her, “looking for relics and information. The Fire Nation did a good job of getting rid of most of it, but what we did find is all here.”

Even this small amount of information was daunting. How on earth was she supposed to learn to airbend without a master? Sure she could learn the forms. But she’d started doing firebender katas when she was a baby, and she’d been eleven before she first managed to create a flame. They didn’t have another eleven years for her to play around with more bending forms and hope she managed to make the air move eventually.

Her overwhelm must have shown on her face, because Grandfather put a hand on her arm.

“We knew this moment would come, Izumi,” he said. “We have a plan.”

Izumi rolled the scroll and returned it to the chest. What kind of plan could they possibly have when there were no airbenders left?

Uncle Sokka pulled out a chair and sat down, “it’s time you started talking to Aang.”

Izumi couldn’t meet his eyes, “I know. I’ve been trying.”

The Avatar was supposed to be the bridge between the spirit world and their world, but Izumi had yet to visit it. She knew Grandfather had been to the spirit world, and she knew that many of the meditations he’d taught her over the years were supposed to help her cross over from one to the other. But she’d never once done it. It was the one aspect of her Avatar training that consistently eluded her.

“We know,” Sokka said. “But we’re going to have you dedicate more time to it. Toph gave her seal of approval on your earthbending. We can afford to shift focus now.”

Izumi nodded.

“If you are able to reach Avatar Aang,” Grandfather said, “and I do believe that he will seek you out the moment you reach the spirit world, there is much he can teach you. Bending doesn’t work in the spirit world, but he can coach you on your forms and your skills.”

“And he can help you with the Avatar state,” Uncle Sokka added. Then he grimaced, “Or at least, we hope he can.”

Izumi went cold, her gut twisting. She hadn’t gone into the Avatar state since that one awful mission when she was sixteen, but she remembered vividly how it had made her feel. The terrifying raw power. The destruction she didn’t even remember causing.

“If you can enter the Avatar state at will,” Uncle went on, “you’ll be able to airbend through the power of your past lives. Hopefully practicing in that state will give you the foundation to be able to bend air on your own.”

Izumi swallowed hard and nodded. It was a good plan. It made a lot of sense. She didn’t have to like it, she just had to do it.

Grandfather handed her the brass key he’d used to open the chest.

“This is for you, Avatar Izumi,” Grandfather said. “Guard it well.”

She took it.

 

—————

 

Year 19, Day 21

 

Zuko watched his daughter work through an airbending form.

There was a scroll at her feet, spread out where she could see it. Even though it had only been a week since she’d begun practicing, Izumi rarely paused to check the next step in the form. When she did study the scroll, it was to correct a stance. Fine tune a posture.

There was no one to stand beside her this time. No one to model the motions of the form. To guide her limbs into alignment.

For some reason, it made Zuko desperately sad.

Katara joined him, cups of tea in hand. He hurriedly dried his eyes and took the proffered cup. He put his arm around his wife as she tucked herself into his shoulder.

If Izumi noticed them watching, she didn’t acknowledge them. She just kept working through the foreign forms, shaping her limbs into the unfamiliar stances.

“I keep trying to remember what it looked like when Aang did them,” Katara said softly. “I know he did them. He must have. But when we knew him he was already a master airbender. And he was so focused on learning the other elements…”

Zuko swallowed a gulp of his tea.

“He practiced our forms with us so much,” she said. “Why didn’t we ever practice his with him?”

“We’re not airbenders,” Zuko said, but even saying it felt flimsy. A poor copy of an excuse.

“I know,” Katara said. “But he was the last airbender. We should have learned what we could from him while we had the chance. We should have…”

There were a lot of things they should have done, Zuko thought as he watched Izumi pause, curse under her breath, then drop into a crouch in front of the scroll to study the images again.

“He might have been less lonely,” Katara said, “if we had.”

Zuko pulled Katara a little closer into his chest. Maybe that would soothe the ache he felt there. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I miss him,” she said softly. “All these years and I still miss him.”

“Me too,” Zuko said softly.

They said time healed wounds eventually, but Zuko wasn’t certain that was true. Sure, most days loss was just something they all lived with. Something they were aware of in a dim sort of way that let them go on with their lives. Other days that loss was sharp, like the bite of a blade, and even time couldn’t dull that.

Watching Izumi struggle through an airbending form…that made Aang’s absence feel sharp.

Katara hid her face in Zuko’s chest. Zuko let his chin rest on the top of her shoulder.

When he looked up again, Izumi had left.

 

—————

 

Year 19, Day 33

 

Crossing into the spirit world was all about the proper mindset. It was about separating yourself into your component parts: your body versus your spirit, and allowing your spirit to travel freely. It was a practice that clearly favored airbenders, as the element of freedom.

Which was probably why Izumi was struggling with it so much.

She knew the theory well enough to recite it in her sleep. But theory was less than half the fight. Theory wasn’t going to get her closer to the spirit world.

“All this practice is good, Izumi,” Grandfather said, sitting across from her at the start of their latest attempt. “You are getting closer. I can tell.”

Izumi huffed, frustrated. She wanted to believe him. And sure, maybe he could feel something she couldn’t. Grandfather had been to the spirit world before. Often, as they meditated, Grandfather’s eyes would glow briefly as his spirit crossed over, leaving his body behind, still seated across from Izumi. She looked for him in those times, hoping her spirit would feel his spirit on the other side and go join him, but it never worked.

He at least was getting plenty of practice at crossing back and forth.

They tried all the things that were supposed to help. Certain varieties of incense. Sound baths. The locations around the temple that “felt the most spiritual”.

Mom had eventually chimed in to say that Aang had found it easiest to cross into the spirit world in certain locations. Like the fire sage temples or the spirit oasis at the North Pole. So maybe there was something to that, but even the locations that seemed to work best for Iroh weren’t working for Izumi.

Today, they’d chosen a little alcove deep within the temple, in front of a crumbling statue of an ancient airbender. It was the place in the temple where Grandfather claimed he felt the most spiritual energy. There were rituals, supposedly, meant to cleanse the energy of these spaces, but they all required airbending, so they were out of luck.

Izumi sat down across from Grandfather under the watchful eyes of the statue, a stick of incense burning in its holder between them. Grandfather poured her a cup of tea, one that he insisted would help stimulate her chi in all the proper ways. But the more they drank it, the more convinced Izumi became that it was simply a new tea leaf variety that Grandfather wanted her to develop a taste for.

She drank her tea. She closed her eyes. She settled into her meditation posture. She tried to focus. On her breath. The scent of the incense. The taste of the tea leaves still on her tongue. Her body, and then her spirit.

Even behind closed eyelids, she registered the little flash of light. Grandfather was in the spirit world.

Izumi opened her eyes. She groaned and flopped onto her back. She was supposed to be the bridge, but no matter what she tried, she seemed to fail.

She looked up at the statue, looming over her. There was no name or inscription on the carving, but it was clearly a master airbender. Male. Arrow tattoos and a neat little beard.

Izumi got up. She reached out and brushed a little bit of dust away from the stone.

Then a little bit more. She tugged the sleeves of her tunic down over her hands to catch and wipe away the worst of the dirt. She found the places where climbing vines had grown over the stones and pulled them away.

It wasn’t an airbender cleansing ritual, but it was something.

And as she crouched near the statue’s feet, pulling those vines away, she saw something that halted her in her tracks.

Carved into the stone at the base of the statue, where this ancient airbender sat meditating, were the symbols of all four elements.

Izumi knew, with a sudden certainty that she couldn’t explain, that this was a statue of a past Avatar.

And that was when a shaft of light, shining through a hidden gap in the ceiling that Izumi had never noticed before, illuminated the statue, the sun falling into perfect alignment.

And Izumi remembered, in that moment, that today was the autumn equinox.

The statue of the Air Nomad Avatar -she wished to all the spirits that she knew his name- glowed in the sunlight. His hands sat in a soft, inviting posture on his lap. His carved eyes were kind.

Izumi sat facing the statue. She copied his posture. She closed her eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath. She swore, just for a moment, that she felt something tug at her.

She followed.

“Izumi!”

She opened her eyes.

She stood in a dense forest, under a dark sky. And Grandfather was beaming at her.

“You’ve done it!” He said, taking her by the shoulders. “Welcome!”

The spirit world. She was in the spirit world!

She beamed. She squeezed Grandfather’s hands and they fell away from her shoulders. She looked around in awe. She ran a few paces through the trees, wondering how far ahead she’d be able to see.

Turning back to Grandfather, she found him smiling softly.

“I will go back and protect your body,” he said. “Good luck.”

“Wait!” She said, darting back to him. “Don’t leave me in here!”

“You can return whenever you wish,” he assured her. He put a hand on her shoulder again, “And trust me when I say that no other human will ever be as at home here as you are. This is what you were made for, Avatar Izumi.”

And with that, he vanished, returning to the physical world.

Izumi, her heart in her throat with both excitement and nerves, wove her way through the trees looking for signs of others. Looking for Avatar Aang. How would she know where to look? How would she know if she was in the right place? Grandfather had seemed so sure that Avatar Aang would find her, once she crossed over, but she hadn’t even seen any spirits yet.

Something flew overhead, casting a strange not quite shadow. Something big.

Izumi hid. She took shelter under a particularly sturdy tree, peering through the branches and trying to see. A spirit?

An absolutely gigantic spirit.

Izumi ducked as it flew very close overhead, skimming the treetops.

It was…a sky bison?

Izumi had never seen one in real life, but some of the murals at the temple had depicted the creatures. And…her parents had told her that Avatar Aang used to ride one.

The bison came in for a landing very close to Izumi, who staggered back a few steps. She’d never been so close to anything so huge before.

And someone jumped down from the bison’s back. A wiry boy with a shaved head and arrow tattoos up and down his limbs.

“…Avatar Aang?” She asked.

He smiled, “Hi Izumi.”

She pressed her hands together and bowed to him.

The Spirit Bison at his side took a few lumbering steps toward her and snuffled at her hair.

“Hey, he likes you!” Aang said.

The bison licked her. Aang giggled like a child.

Izumi rose back to her full height. She was almost a whole head taller than this boy with his arrow tattoos. This was Avatar Aang? He was so young!

He…was the same age as her.

“It’s good to see you, Izumi,” He said, taking a seat on the ground in front of her. “I’ve been waiting for you, but I haven’t seen you in the spirit world before.”

Izumi made a face, “this is my first time. The spirit world is the one part of being the Avatar that I can’t figure out.”

Aang cocked his head, “but the Avatar is the brid-”

“The bridge between the spirit world and the physical world,” Izumi cut him off. “I know.”

Izumi sat down across from Avatar Aang in a huff. She took a deep breath.

“I need to learn how to enter the Avatar State,” she said. “On purpose.”

Aang grimaced.

“What?” Izumi said. “Should I not be trying to-“

“No,” Aang said. “Mastering the Avatar state is one of the signs of a fully realized Avatar. It’s an essential part of your training.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I can’t help you with the Avatar State,” Aang said, looking down at his hands. “I never mastered it.
…That’s why I failed.”

Izumi swallowed hard. She’d heard dozens of stories that speculated about what might have happened when Aang confronted the Fire Lord on the day of Sozin’s comet. Even Uncle Sokka and Aunt Suki, who’d seen it happen, weren’t sure what had gone wrong.

“What happened?” She asked.

Aang sighed. He may have looked young, but suddenly his eyes looked very, very old.

“I worked with a guru,” he said, “who taught me that in order to enter the Avatar state at will, I had to unblock all my chakras. I had to be centered, and balanced, and release all my attachments.”

“So what went wrong?”

“I…couldn’t let go of my attachments.”

She frowned, “but you’re an air nomad. I thought detachment from the world was your entire culture.”

His brows furrowed at her, and she immediately wanted to take the words back. But he sighed again and rubbed his forehead.

“There really are no airbenders left,” he said, half to himself.

“But that’s why I need the Avatar state,” Izumi pressed. “It might be the only way I’ll ever learn to airbend!”

His eyes squeezed shut.

“Please Avatar Aang,” Izumi said. “How do I master the Avatar state?”

He said nothing. He kept his eyes shut tight, his hands gripping his knees. His spirit…flickered for a moment, and Izumi was suddenly afraid that he would vanish and leave her there on her own.

But he took a deep breath, and he resettled.

“I don’t know how you master the Avatar state,” Aang said, finally looking up at her again. “But I can tell you where I went wrong. Maybe you’ll make better choices than I did.”

Izumi sat up a little straighter, attentive. Aang gave her a small smile.

“Aligning your chakras is the key to the Avatar state,” Aang said. “You have to be at peace with yourself and with the world. It takes time and meditation. Hopefully you can find a teacher, like I did.”

Izumi nodded, “Grandfather can help me.”

Aang’s head tilted inquisitively again, “Hakoda?”

Izumi shook her head. She knew her Grandfather Hakoda was alive and fighting with the survivors of the Midnight Sun Massacre in the north. She got letters from him sometimes, but Izumi had never met him in person.

“No, my Grandfather Iroh,” she said.

For some reason, that made Aang smile.

“Good,” Aang said again. “When your chakras are aligned, you can enter the Avatar state at will. But once you start working with your chakras, if even one of them remains blocked, you won’t be able to access it at all.”

He paused.

“I never unblocked my last chakra,” he said, sounding every bit like a child who’d just been scolded for throwing the pai sho board on the ground when he was losing. Not that Izumi had ever done that.

“Guru Pathik told me that I needed to release my attachments,” Aang went on. “That I needed to let go of my connection to any one person or people. To receive the energy of the universe, I had to release my connections to the world, even to the people I loved the most.”

Izumi looked down at her hands worriedly. That sounded like the opposite of that she wanted to do.

“I think he was wrong,” Aang said.

She looked back up at him.

“The Avatar’s strength comes from connection,” Aang said. “It comes from our bond with the Avatar Spirit, and with every single one of our past lives. Connecting with the people we help…that only makes us stronger. It gives us a reason to care.”

“So then what went wrong with your last chakra?” Izumi asked.

“I don’t think it was my attachments that were the problem,” Aang said.

He tucked his knees up against his chest. The big spirit bison lumbered over and flopped down next to him. He huffed a breath that ruffled Aang’s clothing. Aang rubbed the bison’s nose absently.

“I think it was how I connected with the people I loved,” Aang said. “That’s what I got wrong. To truly be in balance with the universe, I do think you have to let go. Not of your friends, but of the narrow way that you want them to fit into your life.”

Izumi’s eyebrows came together, “…I don’t understand.”

Aang suddenly gave a little laugh.

“What?” She asked, confused.

“Nothing,” Aang said, shaking his head a little. “For a second you looked just like Zuko.”

Izumi wasn’t sure what to say. Thankfully, Aang went back to explaining.

“But what I mean is, you should want your friends to be happy. Even if what they want…isn’t what you want.”

“Ok…” Izumi tried to make sense of what he was saying, but she still couldn’t quite do it. “But what does that have to do with attachments?”

Aang sighed.

“There was…someone I loved very much,” he said. “A girl. A… a woman. And she didn’t feel the same way. She was happier with someone else. And I…couldn’t let her go.”

Avatar Aang sat with his head bowed in shame.

“I should have been happy because she was happy,” he said. “I should have let go of who I wanted her to be, and just let her be who she was. I couldn’t do that. I got angry and jealous instead. I ran away. I refused their help. And I failed.”

Izumi frowned. The last Avatar had failed because a girl he liked rejected him? That was so…

…childish. She thought, without malice, looking at the boy in front of her.

Because that’s what he was. A child. A hurt teenager who struggled with his emotions like any boy his age would, and then made a mistake with catastrophic consequences.

The fact that, by that same logic, she was a child too, barely crossed her mind.

“Avatar Aang?” She heard herself asking, “Do you…want a hug?”

Aang looked up at her, “yes please.”

She crossed to him, dropped to her knees, and threw her arms around his shoulders. His arms closed around her very tight.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I was supposed to end the war. But I couldn’t, and now you have to.”

Aang pulled back from her, brushing at his eyes.

“If I could tell you one thing, it’s that you can’t try to do it alone,” he said. “You’re the Avatar, and you feel like it’s your job. I know. But you don’t have to do it by yourself.”

Izumi nodded. “‘While it is always best to believe in oneself, a little help from others can be a great blessing.’”

“That’s one of Iroh’s, isn’t it?” Aang asked.

Izumi chuckled, “yeah.”

“Good.”

Aang held his hands out to her. She took them.

“Good luck, Izumi,” he said. “Come back and see me anytime you want. I…can help you with your airbending forms. Bending doesn’t work in here but I’ll help however I can. Or if you just want… I don’t know, advice? Or actually for that you should try to talk to Roku. He’s a lot smarter than I am.”

“He’s my great-great grandfather,” Izumi said.

And Aang laughed. A beautiful, playful, boyish laugh that made Izumi want to laugh too.

“You’re your own great great grandad!” Aang said, gasping for breath between laughs like this was the funniest thing in the world.

Avatar Aang laughed so hard he fell over, and Izumi laughed until she couldn’t breathe. It felt silly, but it also felt wonderful.

“You’re going to be ok, Izumi,” Aang said, picking himself up and brushing honest to goodness tears of laughter from his eyes. “An Avatar needs a strong team, and you’ve got the best one there is.”

Izumi grinned. Her parents, her whole family, had known two Avatars. Aang had trusted them, and so did she.

She could succeed where Avatar Aang hadn’t. She just knew it.

She couldn’t wait to get started

 

.

Chapter 16: Book 2 - Part 7

Year 19, Day 37

 

The day Izumi began to work with her chakras, she met Grandfather at that overlook he liked. It was his favorite place to meditate, and, perhaps because it was Grandfather’s favorite, it was Izumi’s favorite too. She’d been coming here to meditate and play pai sho with him for as long as she could remember.

She found him sitting there, facing the overlook, tea already poured. Izumi sat down next to him.

“Good morning,” he said, handing her a cup of tea.

“Morning,” she said, sipping at it. It was a rich black tea, hearty and flavorful.

“Are you ready for this journey?” He asked her.

Izumi took a deep breath, “I’m ready.”

She didn’t feel ready. But she’d felt not-ready before, and she’d always managed to work out whatever needed learning. She was a fast learner. Always had been. She’d even cracked access to the spirit world. She could do this.

“I do have to admit that the chakras are not my particular specialty,” Grandfather said.

Izumi turned to him, suddenly growing nervous, “what?”

“Thankfully, I was able to call in an expert,” Grandfather said, a gleam in his eye.

Footsteps sounded behind them, and Izumi turned.

“Auntie Ty!” Izumi said with a grin.

“Hey Cricket!” Auntie Ty said.

Auntie Ty joined them on the ground. Grandfather handed her a cup of tea.

“My expertise lies in the spirit world,” Grandfather said. “But Ty Lee has been connected to the spiritual aspects of the body since she was your own age. Auras, chi blocking, chakras… they are all cousins. She will be the one to guide you on this journey.”

“The chakras are challenging,” Ty Lee admitted to her. “Opening them can be intense. We’ll take it slowly, ok? We don’t want any of them to lock up. That’ll ruin your aura and your inner peace for sure.”

“And,” Grandfather added, “a single locked chakra will keep you from accessing the Avatar state.”

“Right,” Auntie Ty said. “That too.”

Izumi sipped her tea again, trying to hide her nervousness. All this spiritual stuff was what came hardest to her as the Avatar. Chi blocking was so much harder than bending. It had taken literal ages for her to finally travel into the spirit world.

Auntie Ty smiled at her, “We’re going to do this together, ok? All three of us. It's been forever since I did a good chakra cleansing anyway. It’ll be good for all of us!”

“Yes indeed,” Grandfather said, “help me shake some of the dust off of these old chi pools!”

Izumi smiled.

“Ready?” Auntie Ty asked.

Izumi nodded.

Auntie Ty shifted into a meditative stance and closed her eyes. Izumi copied her, taking a deep, centering breath.

“The first chakra we’ll explore is the Earth Chakra,” Auntie Ty said. “It deals with survival, and is blocked by fear. What are you most afraid of, Izumi?”

 

—————

 

Seven years earlier

 

Mom and Dad hadn’t wanted this trip to happen, but that just made Izumi all the more excited.

Izumi was eleven years old, and she’d never been outside the air temple before. Sure it wasn’t safe, and every time a balloon left the temple there was some risk involved. But their fighters left all the time and no one had found the temple yet. And Izumi was the Avatar now. That meant she had to see more of the world she was supposed to protect.

Mom and Dad were both, according to Grandfather, too recognizable. So Izumi went on her first trip into the actual wider world with her Aunt Suki.

There was just so much of it. First the mountains like the teeth of a dragon. Then forests full of trees so tall and full they seemed fake. And then…a small earth kingdom city. With a market packed with shops and neighborhoods full of individual houses and people. So many people, going about their lives in the open. Kids her own age playing games in empty streets.

And soldiers. A lot of soldiers.

She and Aunt Suki ate dumplings and noodles at a place called a restaurant. They wandered through a market, Izumi gazing at the shops and wares in nothing short of rapture.

Aunt Suki pressed a little silver coin into Izumi’s palm.

“Pick something out,” Aunt Suki said with a smile. “Anything you want.”

Izumi ran from shop to shop, market stall to market stall, amazed at all the things that were available to buy. She finally decided to spend her coin on a beautiful dark blue scarf, woven through with gold threads. It was so pretty and would be so nice to wear in the winter. Then she used the handful of copper pieces she got back as change to buy two sticks of candied fruit, one for her and one for Aunt Suki.

Izumi was licking sugar from her fingers when it happened.

“Thief!” Came the cry.

“No! No I swear!” Replied a second voice.

Izumi spun to see a trio of fire nation soldiers surrounding an earth kingdom woman, who clutched a basket to her chest.

“I didn’t take anything!” The woman pleaded. “Please. I’ll show you. You can look!”

She held out her basket toward the soldiers. The man in front of her knocked it roughly from the woman’s hands. Then he raised the cudgel at his side.

Aunt Suki grabbed Izumi and turned her away, but Izumi still heard the weapon whistle through the air. The crack of bone and the cry of pain.

When Izumi managed to wriggle free, the soldiers were backing away, laughing. The woman sat on the ground, cradling her arm and stifling tears.

Izumi lunged. She wasn’t nearly as good a healer as her mom yet but she could try!

Aunt Suki caught her.

“Izumi,” she snapped. “No.”

“But I can help!” Izumi protested.

“Hush!” Aunt Suki snapped, and this time, Izumi listened.

Her Aunt Suki, the bravest person she knew, sounded scared.

All Izumi could think about as Aunt Suki dragged her away, losing themselves in the crowd, was that this was what it meant when everyone said the world outside the temple wasn’t safe. It was so scary and unsafe that sometimes you weren’t even allowed to help.

 

————

 

“Acknowledge your fear,” Auntie Ty said. “And when you acknowledge your fear, acknowledge your bravery.”

Every time Izumi learned something new about the world, it was something else to be afraid of. But every time Izumi had ever been afraid, she had survived. Every. Single. Time.

She released a long breath. She opened her eyes.

Auntie Ty beamed at her, “one down, six to go.”

 

——

Year 19, Day 38

 

The next morning, as she met Grandfather and Auntie Ty, there was a bowl of water set out among Grandfather’s tea things.

“The next chakra we’ll work with is the Water Chakra,” Auntie Ty said. “It deals with pleasure, and is blocked by guilt.”

Izumi lifted the water from the bowl and let it wrap around her hands. She wove it through the air for a moment, admiring the way that it caught the early morning light.

“What do you most blame yourself for?” Auntie Ty asked.

 

—————

Two years earlier

 

Izumi never slept well on nights when the moon was full. It had to do with being born a waterbender. Mom complained about being restless on full moon nights too. And Avatar or not, Izumi had been a waterbender first.

Izumi was incredibly grateful when Mom knocked on her door a few hours after sundown. They went out to one of the courtyards. Mom had brought a jug full of water, and they stood in the moonlight and passed the water back and forth in a ring, sharing it between them. It was a simple, deeply meditative practice, and one they did a lot on full moon nights.

These were the moments that Izumi felt closest to her mom. When they got to waterbend together again. This was the one thing that was theirs. Working with mom on these nights reminded her of being a young girl, learning to waterbend and watching her mother be proud of her.

“I’d like to teach you something new tonight,” Mom said, “if that’s ok.”

Izumi’s heart leapt. She almost dropped the water between them in her excitement, but she quickly picked it back up and returned it to the pattern. She’d thought her mother had already taught her everything she knew.

“Of course!” Izumi said, beaming.

Mom just looked serious. Serious and a little sad. Izumi felt nerves pool in her stomach as her mother bent the water back into the jug. Izumi frowned. Whatever mom wanted to teach her, they were going to need water. …right?

Mom took a deep breath.

“Do you remember what I taught you about finding water in unexpected places?” She asked.

Izumi nodded, “Yeah. From the air, or from plants.”

Mom nodded, her lips pressed tight together.

“There’s one more source of water you need to know about,” Mom said. “It can only be used by incredibly powerful waterbenders, and only during the full moon, when our power is at its strongest.”

Izumi’s heart began to race. Whatever this was, she desperately wanted to know about it. Something like this could make all the difference in the world. But Mom hesitated again. She opened her mouth like she wanted to keep going, then closed it again.

“What is it?” Izumi asked. “I want to-”

Mom held up a hand.

“…Blood is mostly water, Izumi,” Mom said.

Izumi shut her mouth.

“A powerful waterbender, on the night of the full moon, can bend the blood inside another person’s body,” Mom went on.

Izumi’s mouth went dry, “Why would I want to do that?”

“You won’t,” Mom said. “And hopefully you never will.”

Izumi still hadn’t recovered her voice. Mom raised her hands.

“Izumi, do you trust me?” She asked.

Izumi froze for a moment. Then she gave a little nod.

Izumi’s hand rose from her side until it was straight out in front of her, but she hadn’t been the one to tell it to move. She gave a little frightened gasp and tried to pull her hand into her chest. She couldn’t.

And as quickly as something had overpowered her, it retreated. Izumi yanked her hand into her chest, cradling it like it was injured. But it felt…fine. It felt like her hand again. It didn’t hurt.

“This is what bloodbending does,” Mom said. Her voice was very flat and she didn’t meet Izumi’s eyes, “it takes control away from others, and gives it all to you.”

“Why would you teach me that?” Izumi demanded, still holding her arm protectively against her chest.

“Because you need to know this,” Mom said. “You need to know what our power is capable of. And…so you can defeat another bloodbender, if you meet one.”

Izumi fought to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry,” Mom said. “I…don’t know any other way to teach this.”

Izumi shut her eyes. She pressed her hands to her face.

“Try to feel my blood,” Mom said, “Just like you would any source of water. The moon is full. You should be able to feel it.”

…She could feel it. Izumi reached out with her focus and she could feel the blood moving in her mother’s veins.

She looked up. Mom was standing right in front of her. Izumi hadn’t realized until this very moment, standing eye-to-eye, that she’d grown taller than her mother.

“You feel it?” Mom asked.

Izumi, eyes wide, nodded.

“Try to bend it,” Mom said.

“No!” Izumi said, panicked.

“Izumi,” Mom said, her voice very firm. “Try. It’s ok. I’m asking you to.”

Did that make it ok? Izumi took in a shaking breath, took a few steps back, and stretched her hands toward her mom.

It was as easy as bending water.

Every drop of blood obeyed her as quickly and simply as if it was water in a flask. Izumi pulled, just a little, and Mom took a step toward her.

“Good,” Mom said, but her voice shook as she did. “I…I knew you’d be able to do it.”

Izumi tried to push her back again. To put her back in the spot she’d been standing in before. As if putting her back would make it like this had never happened at all. She pushed.

And Mom fell backward with a cry of surprise. Izumi let her go immediately, lifting her hands in surrender. Mom landed awkwardly and her cry of shock became one of pain.

“Mom!”

Izumi darted to her mother’s side. Mom sat up, holding her elbow gingerly. Izumi pulled water straight from the air and took her mom’s arm in her hands. The water in Izumi’s hand glowed as she searched for something -anything- to heal. She’d fallen so awkwardly and hadn’t been able to catch herself because Izumi had still been controlling her…

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m so sorry…”

Her hands were shaking. Her mom’s elbow was only bruised, but Izumi healed it anyway. When she was done, Mom took Izumi’s hands in hers.

“No one should have this much power,” Mom said. “But we do. And that means we have to make hard choices about it.”

“I’ll never do it again,” Izumi said, shaking her head vigorously.

“That’s what I said when I first learned too,” Mom said sadly.

“And…have you?”

Mom nodded. Izumi swallowed hard.

“Sometimes the only choices available to you are bad ones,” Mom said. “Sometimes that’s the price of survival.”

Izumi was suddenly trying not to cry. Mom pulled her into her arms, and Izumi let her.

“But sometimes…” Mom added. “Sometimes it can be used to help.”

“How?” Izumi asked, disbelieving.

Mom sighed, “that’s not my story to tell. Ask your Aunt Suki sometime. Just… I hope you’re able to see the light in the dark. It’s always there. Yin and Yang.”

“Push and pull,” Izumi finished.

Tui and La. The moon and the ocean.

Mom rose, and pulled Izumi to her feet.

 

—————

 

It was so easy for Izumi to cause harm when she didn’t mean to. She remembered learning to bloodbend and hurting her mom in the process. She remembered falling into the Avatar state by accident and waking up to fifteen dead soldiers on the floor of a smoking warehouse. She remembered fighting fire nation soldiers who didn’t seem to know the first thing about fighting. Even on her very first mission she’d attacked a soldier who barely even had the sense to draw his sword first. Brand new soldiers, probably, pressed into service and undertrained and…

“I hurt people,” she said aloud. “I hurt people all the time, and I don’t even mean to. Not really.”

“Mmm,” Auntie Ty hummed in acknowledgement, “do you know what I hear when you say that?”

“What?” Izumi asked, her heart in her throat.

“I hear ‘don’t mean to’” Auntie Ty said.

At her side, grandfather made a little noise of agreement.

“If I may?” He said.

“Please,” said Auntie Ty.

“The moment we become warriors, we have to accept that we will cause harm,” Grandfather said. “In a better world, there would be no need for war. But we have to learn to live in the world we have. I found peace the moment I learned I could reduce the harm my actions caused. It took me many years to learn that lesson. It took… it took the death of my son.”

Izumi swallowed hard.

“You, Avatar Izumi, already asking these questions at your age?” Grandfather said. “You are a kinder and stronger soul than I will ever be.”

Izumi’s chest still hurt, but she nodded. She let out a long breath.

“Good,” Auntie Ty said. “That’s another chakra open.”

 

—————

Year 19, Day 39

 

When Izumi arrived for the next chakra, Grandfather was lighting a line of candles, pinching the wicks between his fingertips until they caught. Izumi sat down and lit the last two herself.

“Today’s chakra is the fire chakra,” Auntie Ty said. “It deals with willpower, and it gets blocked by shame.”

Izumi’s shoulders tightened as she curled into herself a little.

“Shame is strongest when we try to deny parts of ourselves,” Auntie Ty said. She took a very deep breath. “What makes you feel the most disappointment in yourself?”

 

—————

Three years earlier

 

Izumi couldn’t sleep. She needed to sleep. She was going on her first mission tomorrow. She needed her rest so she’d be alert.

But spirits she was excited. And scared. Could she be both at the same time? She was definitely feeling both at the same time.

…There was noise in the kitchen. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. From the sounds, someone was making tea.

Izumi got up, slipping out of bed and crossing the floor in perfect silence. Maybe a cup of tea would help her relax.

Her door was open, just a crack. She liked leaving it a little open, so she could hear. Silence made her nervous. Through the crack in the door, she could see her Mom, standing over the table, leaning on it heavily, her hair loose and hiding her face.

And Mom began to cry.

No, not to cry, to sob. She pressed her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle them, and her shoulders shook.

Izumi froze with her hand in the doorknob.

“Katara?”

Dad’s voice came as the door to her parents’ room creaked open. Mom didn’t say anything.

“Katara…”

Dad came around the table and wrapped Mom in his arms. Mom put her face down against Dad’s chest and sobbed. His hands combed through her hair.

“It’s ok,” Dad said softly. “We… we knew this day was coming.”

“I know,” Mom said, her voice strained. “I know. But …Zuko, she’s going to war.”

“I know,” Dad brushed at his eyes with one hand, his breath shuddering, “I know.”

Izumi felt sick. She put her back to the wall and tried to catch her breath, listening to the sound of her mother crying, and her father trying to soothe her. And it was her. It was all because of her…

 

—————

 

Tears poured down Izumi’s face, but she kept her eyes shut tight.

“Talk to me, Izumi,” Auntie Ty encouraged her softly. “What are you thinking about?”

Izumi took a breath that shook.

“I love being the Avatar!” Izumi burst out.

“But…that’s good,” Auntie Ty said.

“No,” Izumi said, “It’s not. I shouldn’t be.”

Izumi kept her eyes shut, but she swore she could hear the curious head tilt with which Auntie Ty asked, “why not?”

Izumi took a deep breath, “it makes Mom and Dad so sad.”

Izumi cried, and Auntie Ty and Grandfather were both silent for a long moment.

“Why do you love it?” Auntie Ty said at length. “Being the Avatar.”

Izumi gathered herself.

“Because it means I can help,” she said. “I grew up knowing we were doing something impossible. Fighting an enemy we’d never be able to beat. And then I learned I was the Avatar. And…that meant I wasn’t powerless anymore. I could…I could actually do something.”

“Izumi?” It was Grandfather’s voice that came next.

Izumi opened her eyes and looked at him. His eyes shone with tears too.

“Your parents’ sadness comes from fear,” Grandfather said, “They treasure you and don’t want anything to happen to you. But I know they are also so very proud of you. You don’t have to be ashamed of what you are.”

“The Avatar spirit is a part of you,” Auntie Ty added. “You’re allowed to be happy about that.”

Izumi started to cry again, but this time it felt like relief. The knot in her chest loosened.

“Well done,” Auntie Ty said. “Your fire chakra is open.”

 

—————

Year 19, Day 40

 

The next morning there were no elements at hand. Auntie Ty sat with her hands pressed, one over the other, against her chest, right over her heart.

“Today’s chakra is the heart chakra,” Auntie Ty said. “It deals with love, and is blocked by grief.”

Next to her, Grandfather already had tears running down his cheeks.

“Refusing to grieve for a loss is one of the worst things we can do to ourselves,” Auntie Ty said. “It steals away our energy, and then we don’t have room for new loves.”

Grandfather stifled a cry.

Auntie Ty’s voice shook a little as she spoke, “allow yourself to look at what you’ve lost. And allow yourself to grieve.”

Izumi, eyes closed, thought back across her life, searching for the things she’d lost. The things she found were hard to name. She couldn’t list fallen friends or family members, not like so many others could. It seemed like the things she grieved most were things she’d never had in the first place.

The grandparents she’d never met. The…the friends she never had, or the ones that fell away.

 

—————

 

Three years earlier

 

There weren’t a ton of other children at the air temple. There were a handful of teenagers, older than Izumi, that had been born to the temple's settlers before Sozin’s Comet. And there were a handful more that were younger than her, but only a handful.

But of those kids, most of them were of earth kingdom descent, which meant that if they were benders, they were earthbenders.

Auntie Toph had taught Izumi her earthbending basics on her own, and she continued to train privately most days. But as soon as she had a grasp of the fundamentals, Izumi had started joining the lessons that Auntie Toph offered to the temple’s earthbending kids.

It was wonderful.

Izumi stood in a line of other young earthbenders, none of them more than a few years above or below Izumi’s fifteen, practicing a drill of basic blocks and strikes. This was novice earthbender stuff, but it was also the kind of basics that you needed to drill until they were reflexive. More than reflexive.

Across from Izumi stood an incredible earthbender named Suzu, a girl about a year younger than Izumi.

They’d been close, as girls. Her and Suzu. They’d had lessons together and had bonded over the fact that they both came into their elements quite early. Nothing had happened to make them set aside their friendship. They’d just sort of…drifted apart. But Izumi knew it had started when she became the Avatar.

It was nice to be able to work with Suzu again, even if time together meant throwing rocks at each other, rather than swapping secrets or trying to scale odd sections of the temple walls.

Izumi smiled at her friend, but found that Suzu wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Izumi!” The call came from the edge of the practice field.

Izumi turned, spotting Dad standing with Uncle Sokka, who beckoned. Izumi turned to go.

“Izumi!”

This second call, much sharper, from Auntie Toph, made her spin back. To where Suzu was launching another rock at her. Scrambling to block, the element she found was fire, and the rock shattered into fragments, scattering between them, where they smoldered.

“Su!” Izumi shouted. “What the hell!”

“Go on then!” Suzu snapped. “Important Avatar business, right?”

Izumi froze. She stammered a few words but nothing coherent came out. Auntie Toph stormed over and barked a reprimand at Suzu, but Izumi barely heard it. But she saw the dark glare on Suzu’s face as Izumi stumbled back a few steps, then spun and ran toward her dad, and Uncle Sokka.

 

————————

 

Izumi cried. So much had changed the moment she became the Avatar. There was so much to learn. To practice. To become. She…didn’t have time for friendships. No wonder her best friends were her Aunties and Uncles.

No wonder she was so lonely.

Izumi cried.

Auntie Ty was crying. Grandfather was crying.

Izumi reached for Auntie Ty’s hand. Auntie Ty reached for Grandfather’s.

They cried until their tears were spent.

And when Izumi ran out of tears, she took a deep breath that felt clean, unencumbered, and more freeing than anything she could remember.

Auntie Ty, drying her eyes, took a deep breath, “Grief comes from love. And grieving makes space for more love.”

Izumi smiled.

“That’s another chakra open,” Auntie Ty said. Then she gave a little laugh, “thank goodness.”

 

——————

 

Year 19, Day 41

 

They were over halfway through the chakras. There were only three to go.

Izumi felt worn out and frayed, like the rags she used to clean her swords. Somehow, this inner work was so much harder than the work she did with her body. She’d rather do bending forms until she collapsed than spend this much time in her head.

But she was almost there. Only three to go.

Today, Auntie Ty had brought a singing bowl. She played it softly as they settled into their meditative stances. It reminded Izumi disconcertingly of her early, failed, attempts to enter the spirit world.

“Today we will be working with the sound chakra,” Auntie Ty said. “It deals with truth, and is blocked by lies. Most especially, by the lies you tell yourself.”

Izumi shifted and tried to focus.

“Is there something you believe to be true, that isn’t?” Auntie prompted, punctuating her question with a chime from the bowl. “Or, is there something you know is true, but don’t want to accept?”

 

—————

Two years earlier

 

Dad and Grandfather could only practice bending lighting during actual thunderstorms. They had to be out on the plateaus. Anywhere else in the temple and they’d be too likely to hit someone or cause damage. And if anyone was watching from afar, seeing lightning coming from the supposedly abandoned air temple during clear weather would be a dead giveaway.

So they went out in the rain and the wind to practice, carving lines through the air with their hands until lightning leapt from the tips of their fingers, scattering into the clouds.

Izumi watched from the safety of the nearby structures. She wished she was allowed to join them, but they kept saying she wasn’t ready.

“When?” She’d asked her dad as he prepared to go out into the rain with Grandfather. “When will I be ready?”

She’d already moved on from her firebending training, starting to work on her earthbending with Auntie Toph. She’d been practicing the form for redirecting lighting for years. It had been one of the first things Dad had taught her.

He hadn’t been able to give her a straight answer. Just something about inner balance that still didn’t make sense to her.

Izumi spun as she heard someone approaching. It was Mom. Izumi sighed, but shuffled over to make room for Mom in the doorway.

Out on the plateau, Dad lunged and a bolt of lightning shattered the sky.

“Why won’t they let me practice with them?” Izumi grumbled.

“I don’t know,” Mom said. “But I trust them to know when you’re ready.”

Izumi growled a few of her choicer words under her breath. Mom eyed her, but didn’t say anything.

“I could probably redirect lightning in my sleep,” Izumi grumbled. “Why won’t they let me try to create it?”

Mom shrugged, “not every firebender learns how to create lightning. Even your Dad didn’t manage it until he was almost thirty.”

“But I’m the Avatar,” Izumi said. “I should be able to do this.”

“You don’t have to master every advanced technique, Izumi,” Mom said, sounding a little amused.

That just made Izumi angry, “why not? That’s what the Avatar is for. I need everything I can get if i'm going to end the war.”

“Izumi,” Mom said again, more firmly this time. “No one is expecting you to master everything. You don’t have to-”

“Do you think I can?” Izumi asked, fear tightening her throat, “Master the advanced techniques?”

Mom didn’t reply.

 

—————

 

Izumi opened her eyes. She couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t do this,” she said.

She scrambled to her feet.

“Izumi!” Auntie Ty called after her.

She stopped halfway to the door, wanting to turn back, but her heart clenched in her chest and she felt like she was about to choke. Izumi managed a flustered half bow back toward Auntie Ty.

Then she fled.

Izumi didn’t stop running. Tearing through the temple forcing tears from her eyes. Unsure of where she was going.

What on earth was she doing? Running away wasn’t going to help anything. Her thoughts were a mess and she didn’t know what to do and no one else would understand because…

It struck her all at once. Izumi redoubled her pace.

She didn’t stop until she reached the alcove with the statue of the Air Nomad Avatar. She shifted into a meditation stance, closed her eyes, and breathed.

Now that she’d been to the spirit world, going back was as easy as retracing a familiar path. Izumi crossed into the spirit world and leapt to her feet.

How was she supposed to find Avatar Aang? The last time she’d talked to him, he had found her.

“Aang?” She called out. “Avatar Aang? I need your help! I need to talk to you.”

There was no response. She started walking. He didn’t want to come find her? Fine. She would go find him.

But only a few minutes passed before that familiar pseudo shadow blocked out the light. Avatar Aang’s sky bison circled her once and then landed in front of her. He grumbled at her, blinking his huge, soft eyes.

“Is Aang here?” She asked him.

She craned her neck to look up at the bison’s back, but she didn’t see him there. The bison shuffled his feet, lowering his shoulder.

“You’ll…take me to him?” He asked.

The bison huffed a breath, and Izumi took that as a yes. She scrambled up onto the bison’s back, clinging to his fur.

He looked up at her. As if waiting for something.

Oh. Right. What was it Aang had said to him when he flew off last time?

“Um… yip yip?” She said, tentatively.

The bison launched himself into the sky.

They flew across the landscape with alarming speed. Izumi held on to the bison’s fur with all her strength. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she fell from this height in the spirit world, but she didn’t want to find out.

Finally, the bison dove for the ground and landed in a wide, grassy clearing. A strange wind ruffled the grasses, blowing the seeds of little puffed flowers through the air.

Avatar Aang sat with his back to her, in a meditative posture.

“Avatar Aang?” She called, tentatively.

He turned, and his face broke into a smile.

“Avatar Izumi!” He said. He patted the patch of grass next to him, “come to learn some airbending?”

“No,” Izumi grumbled, dropping next to him.

He gave her a look that seemed a little hurt. It just made Izumi feel worse.

“Sorry,” she said. “But not right now. I need…”

Aang’s expression softened, “what is it?”

Izumi took a deep breath, searching for the right words.

“Did you ever worry you couldn’t do it?” She asked in a rush.

Aang laughed, “all the time.”

“What did you do?” She asked. “When you did.”

“I…talked to my friends,” he replied. “When I doubted myself, they helped me feel better.”

Anger rose in Izumi again, “and what about when they couldn’t help you? What did you do then?”

Aang’s eyebrows furrowed, “what do you mean?”

“It’s my mom,” Izumi growled. “She…”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“I don’t think she believes in me,” Izumi said. “She doesn’t think I can do it.”

“Katara said that?” Aang’s voice took on a weird, dull tone.

“Sort of,” Izumi huffed. “I know she doesn’t think I can do it.”

Avatar Aang shut his eyes very tight.

“I know what that’s like,” he said.

Something like hope crept into Izumi’s chest, “you do?”

“Yeah,” Aang said, though he just sounded sad. “When I was training to defeat the fire lord, right before the comet, I…”

He trailed off. Izumi held her breath.

“Can I show you?” Aang asked. “It’ll be easier if I show you.”

Izumi nodded.

Aang reached a hand toward her, and Izumi took it.

“I can show you my memories,” Aang said. “Our…our shared past.”

Aang pulled her to her feet.

Suddenly they were in a new setting. The hallway of an old house. It looked a little disused, but like it had once been an elegant mansion. It reminded Izumi a little of Piandao’s estate. She could hear ocean waves roaring outside.

A second Aang stood in one of the doorways, peering into the room. This other Aang was almost an exact copy of the Aang at her side. This had to have been very close to his fight with the Fire Lord, and his death.

Avatar Aang -the Spirit version- nodded toward the room.

They walked right through the other Aang like he wasn’t even there, entering the room. And Izumi spotted two figures sitting on the floor. One turned his head, and Izumi’s breath caught in her throat.

It was her Dad. That was her Dad’s scar. She was looking at younger versions of her parents.

“Do you think he has it in him?” The young Zuko asked.

“Aang?” Her mother replied.

“Yeah.”

“…I don’t know.”

Izumi couldn’t move. Beside her, Aang squeezed his eyes shut. Izumi looked back to the doorway, but the memory Aang had disappeared from sight.

“She didn’t believe in me either,” Aang said, his voice dark.

Izumi felt sick.

“And the worst thing is that she couldn’t even say it to my face,” Aang said. “When she talked to me she was always so encouraging. She told me all the time that she believed I could save the world. But what she really thought… that she only told to Zuko. She lied to me.”

Anger built in Izumi’s chest.

“Aang,” she turned to him.

Aang’s spirit form flickered, and then vanished.

“Aang!” She shouted.

He didn’t reappear. She ran back into the hall, but the only version of him she found was the memory one, leaning against the wall.

“Aang!” She called again.

Nothing.

Frustrated, furious, Izumi threw herself back out of the spirit world.

She leapt to her feet and ran in search of her mother.

 

.

Chapter 17: Book 2 - Part 8

Year 19, Day 41

 

Izumi burst into the clinic like a whirlwind.

“Mom?” She called.

Katara looked up from the scroll she was writing, laying out instructions for care on a persistent cough she’d just help treat.

“Izumi?” She called back, rising.

Izumi stalked across the room toward her, tense, but fine. Katara relaxed a little.

“Mom, can I talk to you?” Izumi asked in a much quieter voice.

“Of course,” Katara said, moving to sit back down.

Izumi glanced nervously around the room, “somewhere else?”

“…of course,” Katara said.

She let Izumi into the little room she used when she met with patients. With the door shut behind them, Izumi squared her shoulders at her, arms crossed over her chest.

“What’s going on?” Katara asked

“Do you think I can do it?” Izumi asked.

Katara’s brows furrowed, “do what?”

Izumi mistook her confusion for something else, “you don’t think I can do this, do you?”

“Izumi, do what?” Katara asked, her frustration growing despite her best efforts.

“Be the Avatar!” Izumi shouted. “Defeat the Fire Lord! End the war!”

Katara’s gaze darted toward the floor. She suddenly couldn’t look at Izumi.

“I know you didn’t think Aang could do it either,” Izumi added.

That made Katara look up. How on earth could she have gotten that idea?

Right. She’d been to the spirit world now. Of course she’d talked to Aang. Aang had probably told Izumi all sorts of things about the woman Katara had been when she was younger.

“It wasn’t like that,” were the words that rose in Katara’s throat.

She regretted them instantly.

“Yeah?” Izumi pounced. “What was it like then?”

Katara took a deep, steadying breath.

“I did believe in Aang,” she said. “But I worried about him too. He had…a habit of running away from things he didn’t want to face. And he so obviously didn’t want to face the Fire Lord. Not in the way he needed to. But I never thought he couldn’t do it. I thought…I hoped he’d find his own way.”

Izumi, to her credit, was listening.

“But what about me?” Izumi pressed. “Do…do you believe in me? Do you think I can do it?”

“Izumi…” Katara swallowed hard, “…you’re such a powerful Avatar. So powerful I can’t even understand it sometimes.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Izumi said. “Why can’t you tell me you think I can do it?”

“Because it’s not fair for us to expect that of you!” Katara said.

Izumi looked wounded. Katara’s heart broke a little.

“But it is expected of me,” Izumi snapped. “I’m going to do this whether you want me to or not. I have to. Do you think I can do it?”

Her last question came out measured and insistent. Katara wanted to cry.

At Izumi’s age, Katara had been a messy bundle of hope and rage and determination. Since then, with the Fire Lord’s victory, Aang’s fall, the endless continuation of the war… it had all worn away at Katara’s hope. It had chipped away at that hope that had so defined her when she was young until nothing felt possible anymore.

Knowing that it was Izumi’s responsibility just made it worse. How could she pin all her hope on her own daughter? This child that she had carried and raised and taught who now had to save the entire world.

It wasn’t fair. To either of them.

“See!” Izumi said. “You can’t, can you? You can’t say you believe in me because you don’t!”

“Izumi-”

“No,” Izumi cut her off and, bafflingly, kicked off her shoes. “No, I want you to say it. And don’t lie to me because I’ll know.”

Curse her training with Toph. A tear pulled from the corner of Katara’s eye.

“Just say it, Mom,” Izumi said. “Please.”

With that “please”, Katara broke. She caught the sob in her throat with incredible effort. She didn’t want Izumi to see her cry.

Because Agni Izumi was looking at her just like she had when she was so much younger. Before they’d known she was the Avatar. She looked like that little girl who used to beg Katara to teach her new waterbending skills. To help her be faster, better, stronger…

Spirits how could they have put so much on the shoulders of this one child. Her child. Her child who needed her right now. Needed her in a way Katara desperately wanted to erase. To make sure she never felt like this again.

“I…” the words got stuck in her throat.

Izumi’s expression darkened.

“Never mind,” Izumi said. “I get it.”

She didn’t look at Katara as she stormed for the door. She didn’t even stop to pick up her shoes. Katara snatched them up and rushed to follow.

“Glad to know what you actually think of me,” Izumi snapped.

“Izumi-”

Izumi swept out the door and slammed it behind her.

Katara, still holding Izumi’s shoes, sat down on the floor and let her tears fall.

 

——————

 

Izumi was out on the eastern overlook. They weren’t supposed to be out on the eastern overlook, but the night was dark and she’d had the good sense to wear a cloak that matched. It had taken all day to find her. They’d combed the temple searching for her, not sure where she might have gone after fighting with her mother. It was Toph that finally found her, and told Zuko.

And now Zuko took a deep breath and walked across the plateau toward Izumi.

She was sitting right up on the very edge, her feet hanging out over open air. Zuko had always liked heights, but even he felt a little bit of unease as he neared the lip of the cliff. He supposed Izumi could catch them with earthbending, if anything happened. She was a hell of an earthbender. Already able to keep pace with benders who’d been working with the element their whole lives.

Gingerly, Zuko sat down next to his daughter. Izumi didn’t take her eyes off the darkening landscape in front of them.

“If you’re here to make me apologize I won’t do it,” she grumbled.

“I’m not here to make you apologize,” Zuko said.

She turned to him then, a question in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Izumi,” he said.

Her expression shifted to one of confusion, like she didn’t know what he was apologizing for.

But he was apologizing, of course, for Katara. Katara did her best. Zuko knew that. But sometimes even someone’s best wasn’t what the other person needed.

Katara was trying to keep Izumi, and herself, grounded in reality, but Izumi had always been a sensible, driven child. Set loose on a market for the first time in her life at the tender age of eleven and she’d come back with a scarf for Agni’s sake. A girl like that didn’t need another reality check. She needed to know someone believed in her, even when what was asked of her seemed impossible.

Especially when what was asked of her seemed impossible.

Zuko loved Katara. Agni he loved her so much it took his breath away, even after all these years, but…this wasn’t the first time he’d had to patch a hole she’d left in the fabric of their daughter’s confidence. But maybe that was part of love. Making up for the ways in which the other was weak.

“We’ve asked you to do something impossible,” Zuko said. “It’s not fair to you that you have to end this war, when we’ve-”

“That’s what Mom said,” Izumi interrupted.

“I know,” Zuko said. “Let me finish.”

She eyed him, but fell silent.

“It’s insane what we’re asking you to do,” he said. “But we wouldn’t have asked if we didn’t think you could do it.”

“But…” Izumi started to speak but couldn’t seem to finish her thought.

“I know,” Zuko said. He sighed, “It’s…harder for your Mom, I think. She believed in Aang so much. More than the rest of us. And then…”

“And then Aang failed,” Izumi finished for him.

“Yeah.”

They were quiet for a long moment.

“Hope feels scary,” Zuko said. “To your Mom. To all of us, really, but especially to her.”

“Then why doesn’t she just say that?” Izumi demanded.

Zuko gave a light laugh, but it turned into a grimace.

“I don’t know, Izumi,” he said. “And… I’m sorry.”

He held an arm out to her. She shuffled a little closer to him and tipped her head against his shoulder.

“You can do this, Izumi,” he said. “I know you can.”

He swallowed hard. He held her a little closer.

“But what matters most,” he added, “isn’t whether we think you can. What matters is that you believe you can.”

He felt her nod.

“But for what it’s worth,” he said. “If anyone can do this, it’ll be you.”

 

—————

Year 19, Day 42

 

It didn’t occur to Izumi until the following morning that she hadn’t checked to see if her Dad was lying. She didn’t need to. She believed him anyway.

She returned to the overlook the next morning and found Grandfather and Auntie Ty waiting for her. They both held cups of tea, and were chatting amiably, but they quieted as she approached. She paused in the doorway, and bowed to the both of them.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not lifting her eyes. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I’m ready to work with my sound chakra.”

When she looked up, Grandfather was smiling at her. He patted the stone next to him.

“We never doubted you for a moment, did we Ty Lee?” He said.

“Not once,” Auntie Ty said.

Izumi smiled at the both of them as she sat.

“Ok,” Auntie Ty said. “Picking up where we left off…”

She paused. She cocked her head at Izumi.

“What?” Izumi asked, shrinking back a little from the intensity of her study.

“Your sound chakra is already open,” Auntie Ty said. “Whatever you did yesterday after you left…it opened your chakra.”

Izumi breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the last of the previous day’s tension drain from her.

Grandfather gave a little laugh that sounded proud, “well. On to the next then?”

Izumi readjusted her posture, closing her eyes.

“The next chakra is your Light chakra,” Auntie Ty said. “It deals with insight, and is blocked by illusion.”

“If I may,” Iroh added. “The greatest illusion of our time is the illusion of separation. The four elements. The four nations, or…what is left of them. We are more alike than we are different.”

 

———

 

7 years earlier

 

Dad woke Izumi very early for her first firebending lesson. He crouched beside her bed and gently shook her awake. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. The sun wasn’t even up yet.

“Come on,” he said.

The expression on his face was soft and welcoming. Izumi shrugged on a cloak and followed her dad out of their rooms.

He led the way through the maze of tunnels, finally emerging on one of the old plateaus. The ones they barely used anymore because they were so exposed. To hear some of the others at the air temple talk, there had once been a time when the people here had flown through the air, riding the air currents that cut through the mountains. She’d have thought it was an exaggeration, but Mom and Uncle Sokka had confirmed it.

The stars were still out, and there was just the faintest trace of a glow on the eastern horizon.

Dad sat down on the ground, near the edge of the plateau. Izumi sat down next to him, copying his cross-legged posture.

“Do you remember your Grandfather’s lesson about the four elements?” Dad asked.

Izumi nodded. Dad began tracing the symbols of the four elements in the dust.

“You already know a lot about water,” he said. “The element of change. It allows you to be adaptable. I’m certain it’s what makes you such a fast learner.”

Izumi hid her proud smile.

“In time, you’ll learn all about earth and air,” Dad said, “the elements of substance and freedom. But today…”

He traced out the symbol for fire.

“Today is for the element of power,” Dad said.

He looked out toward the horizon. Izumi followed his gaze. The glow in the east was getting brighter.

“As firebenders, we draw our power from the sun,” Dad said. “Anywhere there is light, we have strength.”

Dad gave a little laugh.

“When I was young, growing up in the Fire Nation palace, I was taught that this made us stronger than the other nations,” he said. “There is nowhere where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Izumi frowned, “but what about polar night?” Mom says the sun doesn’t come up sometimes at the poles.”

Dad laughed again, with much more mirth.

“And that’s why you’re already smarter than most of my firebending instructors were,” he said. “You’re right. We have power nearly everywhere thanks to the sun. But you know what else is everywhere? Water. Earth. Air.”

Izumi smiled.

“Fire is the element of power,” Dad said. “It has incredible strength. But don’t let that go to your head ok? There are many ways to be powerful.”

“Yeah and Mom beats you all the time when you spar,” Izumi said.

And Dad laughed.

And the sun broke over the horizon.

 

—————

 

“I know,” Izumi said aloud to Grandfather. “I know all the elements are connected. That all of them are important. They work best when they work together.”

Grandfather hummed, “you are wise beyond your years, Izumi.”

She shook her head, “I had good teachers.”

And sure, she couldn’t airbend yet. But she would get there. That’s what this was all about. She could learn about their culture and their power and preserve what she could.

“Wow,” Auntie Ty breathed. “I think that was the easiest one yet.”

 

——————

 

Year 19, Day 43

 

The air was cool and misty with the threat of rain as Izumi met with Grandfather and Auntie Ty to work with her final chakra.

“The last chakra is the thought chakra,” Auntie Ty said. “The source of pure cosmic energy. It is blocked by earthly attachments.”

Izumi took a steadying breath. This was the chakra that had troubled Aang. The one he never successfully unlocked.

“To open yourself to the energy of the universe,” Auntie Ty went on, “you need to loosen your hold on the world around you. Meditate on what holds you to this world…and then release it.”

 

————

Four months earlier

 

It had been a long time since her whole family had all actually been at the temple on the day of the summer solstice. In an amazing stroke of luck, none of them were away on missions this year. Izumi had a sneaking suspicion that Uncle Sokka had done it on purpose.

It seemed like half the temple was in the courtyard. There was music and a bonfire and candles everywhere and so much food.

Toph sat near the fire with Liuli, who was clearly pestering her for metalbending tips. Aunt Suki, her face a little pink from the warmed sake, laughed joyously as she listened to Akano recount a tale from one of her recent missions. Grandfather sat across from Kenshin, playing pai sho, even though they were at a party. Kenshin was the only person who consistently managed to beat Grandfather, and Izumi had been practicing with him a lot lately in hopes of eventually beating her grandad.

Suzu was here, and Izumi rushed to join her next to the fire. Suzu had finally been allowed to join the war effort just this year. She was such a powerful earthbender -she’d been working with Toph lately on both seismic sense and metalbending- and was already an asset on missions.

And now that she’d been on a few missions…she and Izumi saw eye to eye again. Suzu understood more of what Izumi had been through as a girl. They were better friends now than ever. Izumi plopped down on the bench next to Suzu and stole a few roasted walnuts off her plate.

Uncle Sokka was entertaining the partygoers with a series of bad jokes that only got worse the more they laughed. Auntie Ty was teaching a handful of kids how to do headstands against the courtyard wall.

Mom and Dad were dancing, pressed together as they moved in time with the music being played from the other side of the fire.

 

——————

 

Izumi loved them. She loved them all so much. What was it Aang had said? She could love them as much as she wanted but she had to release…

Release what? How much she cared about them?

No. The ways she thought they should fit into her life.

…If they won the war, everything would change.

If they won the war, Mom and Dad would move to the Fire Nation. To the palace, so Dad could be the new Fire Lord. To Caldera, a city Izumi had never even visited.

Would the rest of them stay? Or would Auntie Toph want to go back to the earth kingdom? Or would they go to the fire nation where Auntie Ty was from? Would Uncle Sokka move to the North Pole and take Aunt Suki with him? Or to Kyoshi Island? Aunt Suki still spoke so fondly of that place even though she hadn’t been there in almost two decades.

Would anyone even bother to live at the air temple anymore? This place that had been her home for her entire life…

“I don’t want things to change,” she said aloud. “I… I want…”

It felt silly to say. Of course she wanted things to change. She wanted everything to change. She wanted to end the war and help the world rebuild. The world was so broken and dangerous and Izumi could fix it. She could.

…she could do it for them. For all of them. For Mom and Dad and Grandfather and Uncle Sokka and Aunt Suki and Auntie Toph and Auntie Ty. For Liuli and Kenshin and Suzu and everyone at the temple, for everyone in the whole world who suffered under the fire nation.

But for her family most. For everyone she cared about. She could give them a safer world. One that they could be happy in. One that they could be happy in a lot more often than they were right now.

Izumi took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

And she felt…lighter. Like she’d set down a heavy weight.

“Well done, Izumi,” Auntie Ty said, her voice thick with emotion. “Your chakras are open. Your chi is aligned.”

She could feel it. Izumi got to her feet. Even standing still she felt more alive than ever before.

She started with a waterbending form. She moved through the patterns she’d known since she was a child. She only had the slightest bit of water, pulled from her half empty teacup, but she swept it around herself, feeling it flex and pull in her hands like an extra limb.

Grandfather sat up a little straighter as she switched to a firebender’s kata. She breathed deep and moved sharply and painted the sky with light and color.

She dropped deep into her knees and began an earthbending form. She shifted the stone at her feet, throwing all her strength and power into her stances.

At last, she moved into an airbending form. One of the ones from the sketches on the scrolls. The one she’d begun doing at the start and end of each day, to learn the shapes of this last style of bending.

She closed her eyes.

“It will feel like crossing into the spirit world, I think,” Grandfather said. “But… closer to home. The Avatar Spirit is part of you. It has been since the moment you were born. Ask for its help.”

Izumi, eyes closed, breathed and continued the form. She reached out with her own spirit, the same way she did when she went to talk to Aang.

That energy she felt…it was right there. It warmed her chest, throbbing like a second heartbeat.

She reached for it.

Power flooded her.

And Izumi began to airbend.

 

.

Chapter 18: Book 2 - Part 9

Year 20, Day 1

 

It had been twenty years to the day.

Zuko lit a candle between his fingertips and bent to place it in the little holder in front of the portrait at his feet. He rose again and put his arm around Katara.

The little ink portrait was of Aang.

Dozens, hundreds, more likenesses dotted the floor of the atrium, lit by their own candles and bathed in the smoke of burning incense, all depicting friends who had been lost the day of Sozin’s comet, and friends they had lost in the years since.

The glow of so many candles lit the atrium like it was day. The temple’s citizens moved among the little shrines, leaving tributes and paying respects. So many lives lost.

Agni. Twenty years.

Katara placed a small dish of beads at the foot of Aang’s drawing. Zuko, remembering the airbending trick with beads just like those that Aang had been so fond of, laughed a little to himself. Katara rested her head against his shoulder and he held her tightly.

He spotted Sokka across the room, kneeling in front of the likeness of a comrade who’d fallen very recently, Suki standing behind him with a hand on his shoulder, her head bowed.

Izumi moved through the room alone, stopping in front of nearly every shrine. So many of the faces at her feet had been gone before she’d even been born, and many more were lost long before she learned she was the Avatar, but Zuko wondered if she felt the same sense of desperation that he did, as she looked at them. Like every light in this room, every soul that had been lost in twenty years of war, was a personal failure.

They were so close. So close Zuko could almost taste it. Pockets of the rebellion could be found in every corner of the continent now. News coming out of Caldera itself told them that the Fire Lord was growing nervous. The army was overwhelmed. Spread thin. Rebellions were popping up like grass fires. Every time they stamped one out, three more sprang up.

They had just begun releasing the rumors. Sharing the news among the cells of the rebellion where they were certain it would spread to the people. Making strategic appearances on missions where he would be sure to be recognized. Not unlike how they’d planned Izumi’s early appearances on her first missions all those years ago.

But this time, it was Zuko’s turn. They were letting the world know that the fire nation’s former crown prince, vanished and presumed dead, was alive. Was the man behind the Blue Spirit mask, who had spent the last twenty years fighting for their freedom. Was nearly ready to reclaim his throne, and use it to end the war and reshape the world.

Katara, feeling his tension, turned to him. She lifted one hand to his face, thumb stroking at the place where his scar met his bare skin. He leaned into her touch, turning his head to press a kiss to the heel of her palm.

The Fire Nation was poised to lose everything and Zuko could almost taste it.

 

——————

 

Year 20, Day 2

 

On the way out of the next day’s strategy meeting, Sokka stopped Zuko as he turned to leave.

“Zuko,” he said, “a moment?”

Zuko squeezed Katara’s hand, and dropped it. She left the room, and Zuko turned back. In a moment, he was alone in the room with Sokka and Uncle.

“We have a question for you,” Sokka said, “about Izumi.”

“I’ll get Katara,” he said, turning for the door again.

“No, nephew,” Uncle cut him off. “One moment.”

Zuko instantly grew suspicious. What did they have to say to him that they couldn’t say in front of Katara?

Sokka wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“We’ve been reviewing what went wrong,” Sokka said, “on the day of Sozin’s comet. We’re trying to make sure we don’t make any of the same mistakes.”

“What does this have to do with Izumi?” Zuko asked, eyes narrowing.

Sokka looked at Uncle, who sighed and took over.

“Our mistake,” Uncle Iroh said, “well one of many, but our biggest mistake, was entrusting our success to a boy who ran away.”

“Izumi is nothing like Aang,” Zuko said.

“I agree,” Uncle said. “They have little in common, and that is fortunate in many ways. But there was one critical way that Aang was untested, and as far as we know, Izumi is the same.”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed as he studied them.

“Do you remember being on Ember Island with Aang?” Sokka asked him. “Remember what our biggest struggle with him was?”

Zuko thought for a moment. And as he did, his heart sank.

Aang had been eager to train. Eager to learn and grow strong. But he’d also been committed to defeating the Fire Lord without killing him. He’d been so opposed to the idea of ending the Fire Lord’s life that he’d run away the night before the comet, looking for a magical new solution.

“He didn’t want to kill my father,” Zuko said softly, his eyes on the tabletop.

Sokka nodded. He swallowed hard.

“Has…” Sokka sighed, “has Izumi taken a life, that you know of?”

“Yes,” Zuko said softly, “on the mission when she first went into the Avatar state.”

Sokka shook his head, “what about outside of the Avatar state? Aang caused incredible damage in the Avatar state too, but he didn’t know he was doing it. It’s not the same. …But I don’t have to tell you that.”

He didn’t. Zuko knew the difference. He knew it intimately and he hated it.

“No,” he said, and his heart broke, “No. Outside of the Avatar state, I don’t think she has.”

Sokka nodded solemnly. He shared a heavy glance with Iroh.

“We cannot afford this same risk,” Uncle said softly. “Not again.”

Zuko felt sick. But he nodded.

“The Fire Lord’s life cannot be the first life Izumi takes,” Sokka said.

There was a long moment of silence where none of them would look at each other.

Then Zuko took a steadying breath, “what do we do?”

Sokka sighed and handed Zuko his notebook, “you’re not going to like it.”

He read the page. His gaze darted back up to meet Sokka’s.

“No,” he said.

“Yes,” Sokka said.

“No,” Zuko repeated.

“Zuko,” it was Uncle who said it.

Zuko huffed and shut his mouth.

“She can do this,” Sokka said. “She’s more powerful than the rest of us put together. And she won’t be alone. And…she’s no younger than we were, when we were off on our own fighting this war.”

Zuko read Sokka’s notes again. He set his teeth, but he nodded. The plan was good. It would give Izumi the experience she needed before they took the fight into Caldera.

He closed the notebook and handed it back to Sokka.

“Fine,” he said. “I’m in. But you have to tell Katara.”

And Zuko had never once seen Sokka look more frightened.

 

———————

 

Year 20, Day 8

 

Izumi’s hands shook a little, as she sharpened her dao swords.

Suzu watched from the window, one eye on Izumi and the other on the street. She checked their timepiece again.

“How long?” Izumi asked.

“Five minutes,” Suzu said.

Izumi ran the whetstone over her blades again with a satisfying scape.

She had her orders. They all did. There were two posts in this town, and two low level generals, one at each. Taking out both would absolutely destroy the chain of command. Especially if the rebellion kept coming back to remove whoever they promoted in place of the ones they killed tonight.

Izumi nearly dropped the stone.

Izumi wasn’t stupid. She knew she’d caused lives to be lost before. That time in the Avatar state, uncontrolled. Soldiers who died of their wounds after the fights were over.

But her orders tonight were to kill. And there was no sidestepping it.

As soon as she received the order, Uncle Sokka looking very solemn as he sat across the table from her, it had set her thinking. She thought back over every mission she’d ever been on. And on every mission, if there were lives to be taken, it was never her that did it. Someone else had always done that task, so she wouldn’t have to.

Tonight, it would just be her. Well, her and Suzu.

Dad was in the city, but he was on the other side of town, at the other post. Killing the other general.

The Blue Spirit and the Avatar. And tonight, they were both assassins.

Izumi put her swords down in her lap. She looked up at Suzu. Suzu was beautiful in the moonlight. Her hair braided back away from her face and wrapped around her head like a crown. It resembled a water tribe style, in the ways that all the cultures had blended in the decades at the air temple. She had a spirit mask the color of spring lilacs tipped back on the top of her head.

“Have you ever done it?” Izumi asked.

“What?” Suzu asked.

“Taken a life,” she said.

Suzu’s gaze darted toward the floor, “oh.”

Izumi swallowed hard, suddenly realizing how invasive of a question it was.

“Sorry,” she said. “I just…”

“It’s ok,” Suzu said.

Izumi got up and crossed to her, joining her by the window, standing just outside the frame so she couldn’t be spotted from the street.

“And yes,” Suzu said. “I have.”

“…oh,” Izumi said.

She reached for her hand, and Suzu took it.

“My very first mission, actually,” Suzu said. “I didn’t decide to do it, but I was under attack and I hit back hard, and…”

Izumi squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“It’s awful,” Suzu said. “I…I get why they stopped you from doing it for so long.”

Izumi’s gut twisted. Suzu deserved every bit as much protection as she did. It wasn’t fair that she’d been sheltered in this way when Suzu hadn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Izumi said.

Suzu shrugged, “we’re soldiers. It would have happened eventually.”

Izumi felt a little rush of anger. All the strategists that had planned this mission, making sure Izumi didn’t have someone at her side who would do the hardest part for her, and they’d still sent her out with Suzu. Did they even know that Suzu had done this before? …Probably not. They didn’t pay the same attention to her, even though she was younger than Izumi was.

Suzu checked their timepiece.

“It’s time,” she said.

She gave Izumi an anxious glance.

Izumi nodded, “Let’s go.”

They left the building through the window, climbing onto the roof.

Izumi crept across the rooftops with Suzu at her heels, crossing the cramped neighborhood toward the mansion that the fire nation brigade had appropriated to house their forces. They paused for a moment on a rooftop across the narrow street.

The mansion had clearly once been the home of an earth kingdom noble family. The grounds around the mansion were surrounded by gardens, and a low wall. Military tents covered the green lawns, and the mansion itself was lit from within by dozens of lights, despite the late hour.

The city around them was languishing in poverty, and the occupying army feasted.

Izumi caught Suzu’s eye and nodded them in.

They crept their way around to the back of the estate. The wall was low, less than twice Izumi’s height, and Suzu went first, leaving divots in the stone with her earthbending that Izumi used to follow. In one swift leap, Suzu sprang off the top of the wall and caught herself on the other side.

Izumi waited with her breath held. But no alarm was raised. Checking once more for guards, Izumi leapt to follow, springing across the wall and into the air beyond it.

She caught herself, clumsily, on a cushion of air. She stumbled a bit as she landed, but her airbending slowed her fall.

Safely over the wall, Izumi led the way again. Both Izumi and Suzu walked barefoot across the grass, feeling for approaching footsteps, stealing between the tents like shadows. They stopped watching the skies. The guards on the wall weren’t watching inward.

They reached the shadow of the house undetected and crept around to the balcony outside the general’s room. Suzu was the stronger earthbender, so she took Izumi by the arm and launched them both skyward.

Izumi grasped the balcony railing and swung herself over. Suzu landed, rolled, and came up in a crouch at her side. Through the elegant, flimsy double doors, Izumi could see the shadow of the general, sitting at a desk.

She kicked the doors in.

The man inside leapt to his feet with a cry of alarm, knocking over his chair. Suzu sprinted past and slammed the door to the hall shut. She pressed her hands against it and metalbent the lock and the hinges, ruining both mechanisms, sealing them in.

The general squared up in front of her, hands raised.

“I suppose I should feel flattered,” he mumbled. “They sent the Avatar herself.”

Izumi attacked him with fire. He blocked. Clumsily. He struggled to retaliate, and Izumi deflected each burst of flame, sweeping them aside almost casually. A single roundhouse kick sent the man staggering back. He crashed back against the desk and caught himself awkwardly.

He got one foot up for a kick, a missile of flame accompanying it. Izumi gathered it up and swung it back toward him. He threw his hands up in front of his face. Not in a bending stance, just protecting his face.

Izumi snuffed the flame. She grabbed the general by the front of his shirt, her other arm raised. Poised. The man cowered. He wasn’t even wearing armor. He’d thought he was safe, this deep inside his own camp.

Izumi froze.

“Izumi,” Suzu said her name from somewhere behind her.

Izumi yanked one of her swords from her back, shoved the man back, and dragged the blade sharply across his side, just under his arm.

He dropped, grasping at his wound like he hoped to stop the bleeding. It wouldn’t help. Izumi had studied anatomy. She knew what she’d done.

It took barely a minute for the man to bleed out. He growled and gasped in shock and pain, flailed toward Izumi, and then went still, vacant eyes staring at the ceiling.

The door rattled as soldiers outside began to pound on it.

Izumi shoved her blade back into its scabbard. She whirled and threw fire at the door, which burst into flame, the soldiers behind it crying out.

Distraction set, the general dead, Izumi and Suzu snuck back out the way they had come.

They just barely made it back over the protective wall before Izumi doubled over and retched onto the cobblestones.

 

—————————

 

Year 20, Day 11

 

Izumi hadn’t been the same since returning from her most recent mission.

Katara understood. She knew how it changed you. Taking a life. But when Katara had first done it, fleeing through the bowels of the palace back in Caldera twenty years earlier, she hadn’t had the luxury of falling apart about it. She and Zuko had been fugitives. Zuko had been deathly wounded and she’d been uncertain that he would survive. She hadn’t had the time or the capacity to sit and try to cope with the choices she’d made.

She supposed it was a good thing, that Izumi did have that time and the space to do it. To grieve. And sit with her guilt. Sometimes she thought maybe that was the whole point of all of this. Making things easier for whoever came after them.

But Katara had heard Izumi again last night, waking in her room next to theirs, screaming from a nightmare. And she had no idea what to do.

She got up early that morning, nearly as early has Zuko did, determined to have breakfast on the table the moment Izumi awoke. Determined to sit with her daughter across the kitchen table and see what she needed.

Zuko returned from his morning katas just as Katara pulled their meal from the hearth, his face a little flushed from exertion and his arms bare. He kissed her on the cheek as he moved to prepare their tea.

Izumi emerged from her room.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Katara said.

Izumi grumbled something that might have been “good morning” and grabbed one of the toasted rolls from the basket on the table. She didn’t stop, striding toward the door.

“I thought we’d have breakfast,” Katara said.

Izumi stopped. Turned back.

“I’m not hungry,” she said. She tossed the roll back to prove her point.

Katara caught it, “just come sit?”

“Why?” Izumi asked.

Katara began moving the food onto plates, just to have something to do with her hands.

“I heard you again,” she ventured softly. “This morning. Do you want to talk-?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” Izumi growled. “I’m fine.”

She absolutely was not fine.

“Izumi…” she tried again.

“I’m fine,” Izumi snapped. “Just leave me alone.”

Katara saw Izumi’s eyes dart toward Zuko briefly. Zuko picked up one of the rolls and lobbed it back toward her. She caught it. And she turned for the door without saying another word, already biting into the roll.

Hungry and avoiding them then.

Zuko sighed and poured tea, joining Katara at the table.

“It does make me wonder,” Zuko said, biting into one of the rolls and eyeing the door where Izumi had just left, “how much of this is Avatar stuff and how much is just…being nineteen.”

Katara snorted. The two of them at nineteen had been every bit as caught up in the war as Izumi was. None of them knew anything about just being nineteen.

“I’ll try talking to her later,” Zuko said.

Katara looked down at her plate. Izumi had always been her father’s daughter. And the older Izumi got, the more she seemed to trust Zuko, and the less she seemed to trust Katara.

She tried not to let it make her jealous. But she failed at that too a lot of the time.

Zuko reached over the table and squeezed Katara’s hand. She looked up at him, forcing a tight smile.

She wasn’t sure which was worse, Izumi’s disinterest, or Zuko’s pity.

She dropped his hand and picked up her chopsticks, but suddenly she wasn’t very hungry.

Zuko came around the table, dropping into the empty chair next to hers. She turned to him, and he took both her hands in his.

“You try,” he said. “And that means a lot.”

Katara wasn’t certain she believed him, but she was grateful that he said it anyway.

He leaned in and kissed her, his lips light and soft against hers. She leaned into him, their foreheads just touching, his breath soft on her cheek. Agni, twenty years she’d been with this man and she still fell to pieces sometimes, thinking about how much he loved her, and how much she loved him.

His hand came up to cradle her face and he kissed her again, deeper this time.

…Izumi had just left, and would likely be away for a while.

Zuko pulled her to her feet and tugged her toward their room.

 

———————

 

Izumi stalked down to the training field. She finished the roll in a few bites and ignored how her stomach continued to growl.

Even first thing in the morning, the training field wasn’t empty. It rarely was. Izumi made for an open area near the far wall. Some of the others on the field pulled back to make space for her. Clearing room for the Avatar. Looking at her like she was a hero.

She was no hero. She was just a killer.

She stretched quickly. Auntie Ty would have been appalled. But Izumi didn’t have the patience for deep stretching this morning. She needed to move.

She pulled her dao swords from their scabbard at her back. She looked at them for a moment as they caught the light. She’d sheathed them still dirty back on the mission and then left them that way, and they’d taken forever to get clean again.

Izumi set her teeth and started working through a series of sword katas.

She lost track of how long she worked, but the sun baked the field and she was soaked in sweat by the time she felt someone approaching. She turned and spotted Uncle Sokka, crossing the field toward her with his sheathed sword in his hand.

“Can I join you?” He asked.

“Did you bring snacks?” She asked in return, sheathing her blades again.

“Who do you think I am?” He asked.

He lobbed an apple in her direction. She caught it and bit into it immediately. Uncle tossed her water skin at her as well and she drank.

Refreshed, she squared up in front of Uncle Sokka. He drew his sword and they started working through a series of drills: one blade against two. Once they had a rhythm, he started to test her, breaking out of the pattern and making her counter. So she started doing the same.

She overextended on her right side, and Uncle caught her wrist and disarmed her with a careful twist.

So she chi blocked his sword arm. He looked down at his limp arm, and then his sword, which was suddenly in the dirt at his feet.

“That’s cheating,” he said.

Izumi knew he was teasing, but she still felt the comment like a blow to the stomach. It wasn’t fair, truly, that she was so strong. And yes, she needed to be. It was the only way to defeat the fire lord and end the war. But what about all the others in the meantime? What about the common soldiers? What about the low level generals that she hunted down and killed in fights that took less than a minute?

Izumi brushed sweat from her forehead with more force than necessary and went to retrieve her fallen blade. Uncle Sokka beat her to it, picking it up with his left arm and handing it out to her hilt first.

“Only kidding,” he said. “It’s ingenious. It’s exactly how you should be using your skills.”

She nodded. Took her sword back. But she didn’t meet his eyes.

Uncle Sokka settled on the ground, bending his prosthetic leg so he could stretch toward the toes of the other. Izumi joined him on the ground, folding her legs beneath her and putting her swords in her lap, her head bowed.

Uncle cleared his throat a little awkwardly.

“The first man I killed…I had nightmares about him for weeks,” Uncle said.

Izumi looked up at him sharply, “did Mom send you?”

Uncle shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Just letting you know that…whatever you’re feeling, it’s ok. It’s probably normal.”

She felt sick to her stomach. She felt like a vengeful spirit from a campfire story. She felt like a death sentence.

“And I’m sorry we ordered you to do that,” Uncle said.

“I’m not,” Izumi snapped. “You did what you had to.”

Uncle Sokka’s mouth twisted in a grimace, “I’m still sorry.”

Izumi squeezed her eyes shut, “…thanks.”

She opened her eyes again. Shutting them just let her picture the gaping, gasping expression on the dying general’s face with better clarity.

“Does it get easier?” She asked softly.

Uncle sighed, “no.”

Izumi let out a long breath.

“Good,” she said.

She didn’t want it to ever be easy.

“What…helps,” Uncle Sokka went on, “for me at least, is remembering why we’re doing this. Remembering what we’re fighting for.”

Izumi gave a tight little nod. She tipped one of her swords so the blade caught the light. She’d cleaned them so thoroughly that she could see her reflection in it.

The fire nation was powerful and cruel. The rebellion had been fighting for a long time, since before Izumi had even been alive, trying to take them down. They couldn’t stop now. Not when they were so close.

“And you’re going to need every skill you’ve got,” Uncle said, tentatively this time. “When it comes down to it.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s just…everyone in between me and them.”

Uncle sighed, “yeah.”

He shifted, switching which leg was bent so he could stretch the other, reaching for his metal foot.

“Some of them don’t have a choice,” he went on. “They serve in the fire nation's armies because they have to. But…a lot of them do have a choice. And they chose the Fire Lord.”

Izumi swallowed hard. She gave a tight little nod.

“It just seems…unfair sometimes?” She struggled to articulate her thoughts in a way her Uncle would understand.

“No, I get it,” Uncle replied.

And suddenly his eyebrows shot up, that gleeful look appearing in his eyes as it always did right before he made a terrible joke.

“In fact,” he said, tilting his head toward her meaningfully, “you could say I have…”

“Uncle, no-“

“A leg up on the competition?” He finished.

Izumi snorted a laugh. Uncle cackled. She met his gaze, and managed a small smile.

They were so close. Everything the rebellion had been working toward was about to happen. She could do this. She could do what needed to be done.

The Fire Nation was about to fall, and Izumi could practically taste it.

 

 

~ End of Book 2 ~

Notes:

Hey hey heeeey that’s a wrap on Book 2! Be back next week with the kickoff of Book 3! Y’all I cannot wait. It’s gonna be WILD.

Chapter 19: Book 3 - Part 1

Notes:

YALL. BOOK. THREE. LETS. GO.

Also if you haven’t gone and listened to the song “Child of the Stars” by Fish in a Birdcage yet, I recommend doing so. A few passages are gonna hit different if you do. 🤍

Let’s gooooooo!

Year 20, Day 140

 

There wasn’t enough space in the meeting hall for all of them, so they gathered in the air temple’s central atrium. All the warriors that called the air temple home, benders and swordsmen and archers and everything in between, sat cross legged on the ground or stood in little clumps at the edges of the space, listening and watching. The energy -nerves combined with anticipation- was palpable.

Sokka had hung a map of the four nations against the far wall, and briefed them on the rebellion’s final plan. Large red pins stuck in the map marked most of the four nations’ major cities. Zuko counted dozens of them, even from a distance. Every single one of them was about to become a point of combat in their final push to topple the Fire Lord and his empire.

“Teams headed to support the colonized cities, you’ll receive detailed strategies from your commanders after you arrive on location,” Sokka said. “Caldera team, the same is true for all of you. But as you well know, we’re preparing for a full assault on the palace of the Fire Lord.”

A ripple of murmurs, excited and fearful, swept across the room.

Zuko silently reached for Katara’s hand. She took it and held it hard. She had her hair braided back, her water flask at her hip, her knife at her belt, and southern water tribe war paint on her face.

They were among those headed into Caldera.

“Caldera is ready to crack,” Sokka went on. “Anyone with the means to leave the city has left. Conditions there are worse than they are in the outer cities. It’s time.”

Zuko’s chest ached. Dammit those were his people, and they were suffering.

It was time to change that.

“No matter your destination, none of us are going in alone,” Sokka said. “Every location on this map is home to a thriving cell of the rebellion. Every one of them has been fighting every bit as hard as we have, rallying their own support. And they know their cities, and their battlegrounds, and their people. They’re ready. And so are we.”

Zuko, his dao swords over his back, lifted his chin a little higher.

“We’ve fought the Fire Nation for over one hundred years,” Sokka said, turning away from the map and addressing the crowd, “but never like this. Never as unified nations. Never from every front at once. One day, one coordinated uprising on the first day of the lunar new year, and we will take back everything that has ever belonged to us. We will defeat this false emperor and force him from his throne.”

There were soft calls of encouragement and assent from all corners of the room. Sokka’s gaze swept the crowd, and it landed on Zuko.

“We’ll correct the path the world has taken,” Sokka said. “We’ll place the Fire Nation into the hands of those we trust, and together, we’ll bring the world back into balance.”

More eyes found Zuko. Katara’s grip tightened on his hand. He kept his head high and his gaze locked on Sokka.

“We will stop those that need to be stopped, break what needs to be broken, and rebuild,” Sokka said.

And this time, members of the crowd cheered. A thrill ran through Zuko. It was all finally, at long last, finally happening.

Sokka looked back over the crowd again.

“Pack your bags,” he said, with a small but confident smile. “We move out at sundown.”

 

————————

 

Katara watched Sokka weave through the slowly dispersing crowd with a strange rush of pride. She couldn’t help comparing his speech today with one he attempted to give two decades earlier, on the Day of the Black Sun. Somewhere between two invasions, every single one of them had grown up. They had been children then and hadn’t even known it.

It took several long minutes for Sokka to reach them. He kept stopping to greet the warriors in the crowd, offering encouraging smiles and firm, forearm-clasping handshakes. Like a leader. Like a general.

But finally, Suki at his elbow, he arrived in front of them.

“Good speech,” Zuko said.

“Thanks,” Sokka said, looking tired. But he gathered himself and asked, “You ready?”

Katara looked up at Zuko. He looked at her.

He nodded.

Katara had known that this -placing Zuko on the throne of the Fire Nation- was their end goal since the day they’d arrived at the air temple. The strength of the rebellion combined with Zuko’s birthright might finally be enough to put him in a position to end the war for good. But somehow it hadn’t felt real until right now. Twenty years of living more or less in exile, living so humbly here at the temple among the resistance, it had been easy to forget that her husband had grown up a prince.

Not anymore. Zuko held himself like he had power, and was unafraid of it. Gone was that angry, desperate, haughty prince she’d met as a girl. This was a man who’d grown. Who’d loved and lost and fought and suffered as much as any of them. This man, this Zuko, would be the kind of Fire Lord that could change the world from the foundations up.

But the more she thought about it…he’d been that way since the day of Sozin’s Comet. He’d been prepared to take the throne even then. Even as a boy, he’d been ready and willing to change the world.

Spirits, he was the love of her life.

“One more question,” Suki said, her gaze sweeping across the crowd as it continued to disperse. “Where’s Izumi?”

 

————————

 

The war paint itched.

She’d felt so proud as Uncle painted patterns on her face. Patterns he’d learned as a boy in a tribe Izumi was descended from but had never even seen. Southern Water Tribe war paint. Her smooth hair in a tight Fire Nation top knot. A child of two nations, even before discovering she was the Avatar.

A child of all four, now.

From her perch at the top of a crumbling courtyard wall, Izumi looked down at her hands and her feet. They all bore tattoos. It was Aang that had most encouraged her to get them, as she trained with him in the spirit world, telling her how much his arrows meant to him.

She didn’t ask for arrows, of course. Those were for master airbenders and she was a far cry from one of those. So her tattoos were the symbols of all four elements. Fire and Water on the backs of her hands, and Earth and Air on the tops of her feet. They marked her. Proclaimed what she was.

They glowed when she entered the Avatar state, just like Aang’s arrows had.

But hearing Uncle’s speech, with so many eyes on her, just as many people watching her as were watching Uncle Sokka, or eyeing her dad…she’d snuck away the moment the speech had concluded.

So much of what was about to happen depended on her.

She escaped to one of the more disused corners of the temple. The rooms and halls and odd little nooks that she’d explored with Suzu as a girl. She’d picked one of their old favorite haunts: the half-crumbled wall around an old courtyard, covered with thick roots and easy to climb.

So it made sense that Suzu was the one that found her there.

Suzu hauled herself up onto the top of the crumbling wall next to Izumi. She didn’t say anything. She just tilted toward Izumi, nudging her with her shoulder and wobbling back upright, never taking her eyes off the yard beneath them.

Finally, Izumi spoke.

“I remember this being higher up,” she said.

“We were shorter then,” Suzu said.

Izumi squeezed her eyes shut.

“Everyone’s looking for you,” Suzu said.

Izumi huffed a frustrated breath.

“Are you ready?” Suzu asked.

“…Yeah,” Izumi said.

She felt Suzu’s disbelieving stare without having to look.

“No,” she amended.

She was ready, in a sense. As ready as she could be. She was a fully-realized Avatar. She could bend all four elements. Three of them masterfully and one of them clumsily, but given the circumstances, she knew her airbending was solid. She had a working mastery of the Avatar state.

She could bloodbend, when the moon was full. She hadn’t gotten the knack of metalbending, but her seismic sense was good. She couldn’t create lightning yet, but she was confident that she could redirect it. She had her dao swords. She could chi block.

But knowing all of that, having all of these skills, was very different from feeling like she could save the world. And in that moment, alone with Suzu, Izumi felt brave enough to ask the question she could never seem to voice anywhere else.

“What happens if I fail?” Izumi asked. “I…I don’t know how we’ll survive in a world where we lose again.”

“We’ll try again,” Suzu said. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’ll try again, and we’ll keep trying.”

Izumi looked over at her friend. Suzu gave her a small smile.

“We’re going to be ok,” Suzu said.

“How do you know?” Izumi asked.

“Because we have to be,” Suzu replied.

The look in Suzu’s eyes, determined and brave, stronger than Izumi felt, gave her courage. Izumi nodded. Suzu grinned.

“Come on,” Suzu said, “let’s go kick some fire nation ass.”

She leapt down from the wall.

“Excuse me,” Izumi teased, jumping down after her. “I’m half fire nation.”

“Then I’ll kick your ass too.”

“As if!”

“Oh come on,” Suzu squared up with her fists like she was at a boxing match, “I bet I could take you!”

She probably could. Suzu was a far better earthbender than Izumi was. One of the best metalbenders Auntie Toph had ever trained.

Izumi just laughed. She shook her head. Suzu giggled and dropped her hands.

“Come on,” Izumi said, gesturing toward the hall with her chin. “Help me finish packing?”

“You’re not packed yet?” Suzu asked, incredulous. She threw her arm around Izumi’s shoulders, “seriously, what would you do without me?”

“Struggle a lot more, probably,” Izumi said with a light laugh.

“Honestly? Me too,” Suzu said.

They looked at each other for a moment. Izumi bit her lip.

Suzu smiled at her, “come on. We’ve got work to do.”

 

———————

 

Zuko crossed to Uncle and sat down next to him on a low stone bench. From their seat, he could see supplies being loaded into the war balloons.

This was it. The fight that they’d been building toward since the moment Ba Sing Se fell had finally come.

It was killing Uncle to have to stay behind. Zuko could see it in the set of his shoulders and his grim expression. But Iroh had reached eighty, his vision weakening and his balance fading. He carried a walking stick more often than not. His time on the front lines was over.

“You have everything you need?” Uncle asked.

“Yes, Uncle.”

“And Izumi?”

“As ready as she can be.”

Uncle nodded.

“It’s not often that we’re given such a second chance,” Uncle said. “Don’t squander it.”

Zuko, head bowed, nodded.

Uncle sighed. He cleared his throat.

“I meant what I said. The day of Sozin’s Comet,” Iroh said. “If the Fire Nation can be redeemed, if its honor can be restored, you will be the one to do it.”

Zuko shook his head, “I don’t know, Uncle. I thought it was impossible then, and that was twenty years ago.”

Uncle turned to him, and took Zuko’s face firmly in his hand, cradling the back of his neck in a surprisingly strong grip.

“You will do it,” Uncle said, “because someone has to. And you, my boy, are the only one who can.”

Zuko had been on this earth over forty years, but when Uncle called him “my boy”, he still felt safe. He felt young, in all of the ways that being young had once felt hopeful. A tear pulled from the corner of his good eye. Uncle swept it away.

“I believe in you, my boy,” Iroh said. “I believe in who you are, and in who you will be, when this war is finally won.”

Zuko suddenly didn’t trust his voice, but he managed, “thank you, Uncle.”

They threw their arms around each other, holding to one another tightly.

This was it. Everything they’d been planning and striving for for the last twenty years would all come down to the events of the upcoming days. Zuko knew he was walking into a fight that he might not survive. There was so much at stake. So many lives that hung in the balance. No matter what happened, the world wouldn’t be the same.

It was a very long time before Zuko let go of his Uncle, brushing a hand across his eyes again. He took a deep breath to steady himself and reached for the pack at his feet.

“Before you go, nephew,” Iroh stopped him, looking suddenly nervous, “there’s one more thing you should know.”

Zuko’s brows furrowed, “what is it?”

Iroh hesitated, “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. Sokka and I believed it would be too profound a distraction.”

“What is it?” Zuko demanded, his anxiety growing.

Iroh looked at him with a deeply sad expression.

 

——————

 

Ten years earlier

 

There was a tap on the door and Iroh looked up. It creaked open, admitting Sokka. The boy, -Iroh would always think of him as such, no matter how he grew- had a tight, dark expression on his face.

Iroh poured tea. Sokka sat down, his metallic leg stretched out in front of him, staring into his cup for a long moment without speaking.

“Well?” Iroh said at length.

“It’s true,” Sokka said. “I just got confirmation from our operatives in Caldera.”

Iroh’s heart sank. His grip tightened on his own teacup.

“Who else knows?” He asked.

“Suki,” Sokka said. “No one else yet. Not here at the temple anyway.”

Iroh nodded, “Good.”

He took a long drink. Cleared his throat.

“I believe it would be prudent to keep this information from my nephew,” he said.

Sokka grimaced, but he nodded.

“Agreed,” he said.

“He will want to do something, and we don’t have that kind of strength,” Iroh went on.

Sokka nodded again.

“He might find out on his own,” Sokka said. “Who knows how much the populace will talk.”

“A risk I think we have to take,” Iroh said.

He knew his nephew. He knew this wasn’t a situation Zuko would be able to leave alone, once he knew.

Iroh and Sokka had grown suspicious when Azula suddenly stopped appearing in the field. She was never in the field constantly, but it was rare for so many months to go by without her making an appearance. It was like she’d fallen off the edge of the map. As months had stretched into the better part of a year, they’d redoubled their efforts to discover what the fire princess might be up to, fearing all kinds of nefarious plots.

The truth was both better and worse than Iroh had hoped for.

“Your contact. Did he share the boy's name?” Iroh asked.

Sokka nodded.

“Ichiro,” he said.

Iroh hummed. It was a good name. He saw his brother’s hand in it.

Azula had been out of the field not because she was working on other missions, but because she’d been with child.

Azula, fire princess, had a son. And the Fire Nation had a new prince.

 

.

Chapter 20: Book 3 - Part 2

Notes:

Ok y’all. You’re getting a chapter a day early this week because I’m traveling this weekend and probably won’t have time to post one tomorrow, aaaaaaaaand also because I’ve had this chapter written for MONTHS and I want you all to have it Right Now.

CW for this chapter: referenced extremely dubious consent, and canon typical Ozai bullshit

Let’s get into it.

Year 20, Day 141

 

They flew toward Piandao’s estate in a fleet of war balloons, landing in near total darkness and setting up makeshift camps in the sprawling gardens.

Zuko remained lost in his thoughts.

In the morning, there was a meeting. He attended it, but he couldn’t have repeated a single thing that was said, much less relayed anything that had been decided.

There was a child. A boy. Azula had a son.

Uncle had told him everything they knew. The young prince’s name was Ichiro. He was already ten years old. He’d been sheltered in the palace his whole life. He was a prodigious firebender.

He was Zuko’s nephew.

Thinking of his own youth in the palace, of what Azula had been like at ten, of all the horrors that could be inflicted behind closed doors…

Zuko had seen how Azula suffered after their Agni Kai. She’d been a shattered husk of herself, barely clinging to her sanity. He’d seen her inflict incredible damage on the rebellion. How much of Azula was even left inside her?

And when, and how, in all the interim years, had she managed to carry a child?

 

———————

 

It had been twenty years. And in that twenty years Azula had been little more than a prisoner.

The day of Sozin’s Comet, Azula was meant to be crowned Fire Lord. A mere king serving an emperor, sure, but a king. And instead of a crown, she’d ended up with a prison cell.

She’d been defeated. Defeated by Zuko and his pathetic waterbending comrade. She deserved to be imprisoned. She’d failed.

But by sundown, she was released. In the state she’d been in, her mind fractured and unable to tell imaginings from reality, she’d thought it was her mother. It wasn’t, of course. But whoever it was had promised to make her brother pay for what he’d done.

Afterward, for… she wasn’t sure how long it had been…she’d been in treatment for her psychotic break. Azula slowly came to realize that years had passed between Sozin’s Comet and her first clear memory.

Her mind cleared bit by bit, and eventually she was moved out of the sterile clinic she’d awoken in, and into her own suite of rooms. It was no less of a prison. She was guarded, and if she tried to leave on her own she was stopped. But these three rooms -bedroom, sitting room, adjacent bath- were hers, and she was allowed to exist in them with an illusion of privacy. She even had access to a small walled garden, like she was a favored pet who’d earned time in the yard.

She discovered with a sense of horror that she couldn’t bend. Her firepower was all but gone. She could only summon the dullest of flames, and not even the weakest spark of lightning.

And she wondered why she was still alive. Why Father hadn’t taken one look at her and put her down like the wounded animal she was.

The first time she saw Zuko standing in the corner of her room she thought for sure she was dead. Zuko had come back and this time, he intended to finish her. But it wasn’t really Zuko. It was just a new delusion her mind created for her. Or perhaps it was his ghost, come to haunt her.

She talked to him sometimes. Her doctors saw her talking to him, and they asked about him often, but she never admitted to them that he was there. If her doctors knew he was there, they would make him go away. Fake as he might be, Not-Zuko was all she had. And despite it all, Azula was still a very good liar.

The clearer her mind became, the more her memory recovered. The more her memory recovered, the angrier she got.

And with her anger, her bending came roaring back.

She felt power in her fingertips and it felt like coming alive again. She unleashed it all at once and ran, and made it most of the way out of the palace before they stopped her.

They kept her sedated for several days and when she awoke her guard had tripled.

But it brought Father back to her. He came to see her and she bowed and scraped at his feet. He praised her for her impressive display of power and offered her a chance to be useful again. She groveled and thanked him and wept with pitiful joy. Not-Zuko in the corner watched her and scoffed.

And she became her father’s weapon once again. She was sent to silence particularly capable enemies. To quell particularly vicious uprisings. He sent her out with clear, simple instructions, flanked by whole squadrons that were allegedly there to support her, but were absolutely there to capture and subdue her if she lost control of herself.

She was always about an inch away from losing control of herself.

She was the Fire Nation’s attack dog. Tightly leashed and snarling and barely contained. And whole nations prayed the Fire Lord would look somewhere else when he loosed Azula’s chains and ordered her to bite.

Azula always obeyed. It was the only thing she knew how to do.

“He’s using you,” Not-Zuko told her.

She poured a cup of tea for him. He didn’t drink it.

“I know,” she said.

He said “useful” like it was a bad thing. Like it wasn’t what kept her alive.

And when Father came to her about a different duty, she didn’t protest then either. Not even when that duty involved a parade of men coming to her rooms after nightfall. Always a different man each time, and every one of them a firebender. The Fire Lord’s line needed to be continued. Ozai needed a viable heir. With Real Zuko disowned and vanished and probably dead, it was Azula’s duty.

Each new firebender approached her like they expected her to fight and snarl, but she submitted to their touch with the same acceptance that she submitted to all of Father’s orders. She never bothered to learn their names. And when she finally fell pregnant, it was a relief, because then they left her alone.

For nine agonizingly long months she wasn’t allowed out of the palace. She barely left her suite. For nine months her only company was an endless procession of doctors and the smoldering quiet of Not-Zuko, watching over her. And this little…thing growing inside her body.

She gave birth well attended, but alone. Not-Zuko held her hand.

And when her son was born they swept him away from her. She was far too erratic for motherhood. It wouldn’t be safe for a child so small. Everyone agreed.

Everyone except Not-Zuko, who held Azula as she sobbed, a hollow feeling settling in her chest that she would never fully shake.

The Fire Lord even chose the boy’s name. Azula only learned it when she heard it on the lips of her doctors and the soldiers who flanked her excursions.

Prince Ichiro.

Her son.

She caught glimpses of him across the garden sometimes. So rare and miserably timed that she thought they must be orchestrated purposely to wound her. She took to sitting in the garden for endless hours, hoping for just a shadow of him.

Once, when he was about three, she saw him firebend and she wept.

“I care about him,” she told Not-Zuko in the hazy evening light under the mango tree.

“Why?” Not-Zuko asked. Not judgemental, just curious.

“Because he’s mine,” she said. “Because part of him is me.”

Not-Zuko gave her a sad smile, “Because he’s yours, you can manage to love someone that isn’t yourself?”

Azula looked down at her feet.

“That’s a good start, ‘Zula,” Not-Zuko reassured her. “It’s a start.”

She began asking to see him. And when asking didn’t work she began to beg. She begged her doctors, the generals she interacted with. Not Father. Never Father. But she made sure everyone around her knew how desperately she wanted to see her son.

And finally, after weeks, after months, they agreed.

“She hasn’t shown this much interest in anything since her collapse,” she heard one of the doctors say when they thought she couldn’t hear. They always thought she couldn’t hear, “Maybe she’s approaching a breakthrough.”

And Azula waited in the garden and they brought her son to her.

Ichiro was four years old. His shining hair in a little princely top knot. He would be tall, like his grandfather. He already came up to her hip. Her own golden hazel eyes looked back at her out of his face, with a guarded expression in them. He stood shyly next to one of his nurses, half hidden behind the woman’s legs, holding her hand.

He came to her cautiously, not certain what to make of her. But with encouragement from his nurse, he invited her into the world of play and games that filled his young, innocent mind.

He sat cross legged in front of her, his tongue stuck between his lips in concentration, his hands cradled by her hands as he breathed and conjured a little flickering flame between them.

He knew who she was. He called her Mother.

And Azula began planning.

She planned for months. She knew she would only get one chance. She’d memorized the pattern of her guards years ago, but now she parsed its weaknesses. She identified the guards most likely to falter. The ones she could slip past or defeat with the least amount of work. When she was out of her rooms, she silently mapped the simplest routes out of the palace. The best chances to spirit herself and Ichiro away.

She wouldn’t leave him here to suffer as she and Zuko had. Not for an instant longer than was absolutely necessary.

The hardest part was telling Ichiro. She saw him often enough now, her doctors claiming it did both of them good. Azula started modeling better behavior so they would increase their visits. Soon, she was seeing him nearly every day when she wasn’t away on missions from Father. But they were always supervised. No time or ability to pass secrets.

But Father made Ichiro afraid. She could see it in his eyes when they talked about him.

“I’ll keep you safe,” she told him, low in his ear as he sat in her lap, a children’s story open on his legs. “Do you believe that?”

“Yes Mom,” he said.

“If I wanted to take you away,” she asked, “somewhere safe, would you go with me?”

Ichiro didn’t speak right away. One of their attendants got suspicious of their whispers and took a few steps closer. She’d have to try again another day.

But when the right day arrived, Azula felt it deep in her bones. A profound instinct that she couldn’t have argued with even if she wanted to.

Ichiro was six, strong and fast for his age. A prodigy, just like Azula had been herself. He was in the garden with her. The nurse with him today, overseeing their visit, was the oldest of his nurses. The most fragile. The guards outside the room right now were some of her newest, less used to what she could do than the others. It was just past midday.

Today. It was today.

She and Ichiro were playing one of his favorite games. The game where she carried him on her back, jumping around the garden like an unbroken ostrich horse while he shrieked and giggled and held on. They’d been doing this for months, playing this same game until Azula was confident Ichiro could cling to her back even without her help. Even when she moved in ways he might not expect.

It was time.

“Baby?” Azula said softly, still prancing around the garden with him on her back.

“Mom?” He said.

“Do you trust me?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he said, like it was obvious. Like it had never even occurred to him not to.

“Hold on tight,” she said. “No matter what happens, don’t let go.”

His grip tightened around her neck. His legs wrapped a little more closely around her waist.

Azula looked at Not-Zuko.

Not-Zuko nodded at her.

“Good luck,” he said.

Azula bolted for the garden wall.

A little burst of flame from the soles of her feet gave her the lift she needed to grab the first handhold. By the time the alarm was raised, Ichiro’s nurse shouting for the guards, Azula was already on top of the wall.

She sprinted across the top, making for the roof. She leapt, landing in a crouch on the slanted surface. Ichiro’s arms around her neck nearly choked her, but he held tight. Azula scrambled to the peak of the roof and ran lightly along it, measuring off her strides as if she was in the hallway below.

“Hold on,” she breathed. “And close your eyes.”

Ichiro buried his face in her neck.

She slid down the slant of the roof, hooked a hand on the edge, and swung down. She hit the window beneath them feet-first. The glass shattered. Azula swung into the room and landed lightly on the floor. There were cuts on her arms from the shards of glass that clung to the frame, but she ignored them and kept moving. She burst into the hall.

This wing of the palace was for ceremonies and visitors, which meant it was more empty than ever. No one came to the fire palace anymore. No one wanted to be here.

The hall, as Azula sprinted down it with Ichiro on her back, remained empty.

At the end of the hall, she ducked into a servants’ corridor. This was the riskiest portion of her escape route. She hadn't been in the servants’ corridors since before Sozin’s Comet. She had to trust that her memory of them was sound.

Azula took off in the direction she knew the kitchens lay, hoping the route would stay clear.

She began to pass people in the passageways, servants who called to her or cried out as she shoved her way around and past them. She ducked the arm of a man who tried to catch her, tripping him as she dodged. She knocked at the arm of a woman carrying a tray, splattering rice in her wake.

And suddenly she was in the kitchens. Azula suppressed a triumphant smile as she tore through the room. The afternoon meal had just ended, and the room was half empty. She just had to get to the other side. On the other side of the kitchen was a courtyard with the servants’ entrance to the palace. It was only ever guarded by a single pair of guards. It was her and Ichiro’s way out.

She burst into the courtyard and skidded to a halt.

There were ten soldiers between her and the exit.

They’d guessed her path. They’d mobilized quickly enough to beat her here. Azula set her teeth and growled at them. She shifted so her back was to the courtyard wall, all ten soldiers shuffling to box her in again as she did.

“Ichiro,” she said. “Get down.”

He did as she asked, sliding down her back and landing on his feet. She felt suddenly cold without his heat against her spine. She took a deep, steadying breath.

“Stay behind me,” she breathed.

She settled into her stance, fire rising at her fingertips. The soldiers shifted nervously. Ten on one and they were scared.

Azula grinned.

For a moment, no one moved. Then the commander barked an order and everyone moved at once.

She intercepted the first one and pummeled him into the ground. She struck the second with a vicious bolt of lightning. She whirled around, fire leaping from her, pushing her enemies back. They cowered. She pressed forward, shoving them away from her and Ichiro and towards her exit.

Behind her, her son cried out.

She spun, fire in her hands and lightning in her heart.

 

It was Father.

 

He had Ichiro pinned with his arms twisted behind his back. The other hand grasped the boy’s top knot, exposing his throat. Father glared at Azula with a hard, threatening, dangerous expression.

Azula surrendered.

Four soldiers surrounded her and forced her to her knees.

Father wouldn’t kill Ichiro. Azula knew that. Father needed his heir. Ichiro was too powerful, too valuable, to sacrifice. But there were plenty of ways to harm someone without killing them.

On her knees in front of the Fire Lord, Azula thought of Zuko. Of how Father had scarred him for disrespecting him. How he’d publicly tortured and banished him in recompense for the simple act of speaking his mind.

As a girl, Azula had managed to convince herself that Zuko deserved his punishment. Now, thinking of it made Azula incandescent with rage. Zuko was Father’s son. Azula would rather cut off her own hands than cause Ichiro any harm. How could Father have possibly done what he’d done to Zuko -holding burning hands against her brother’s face while he writhed and screamed- to his own son?

It made Azula doubt everything she had ever known.

 

—————

 

And as for the Fire Lord…the Fire Lord learned that the best way to control his daughter was to threaten his grandson.

 

.

Chapter 21: Book 3 - Part 3

Year 20, Day 142

 

Caldera was not the city Zuko remembered.

He had never known a version of Caldera that wasn’t a city at war. But the Caldera he remembered, even the one he and Katara had hidden in back in the months following Sozin’s Comet, had been a city alive with people. People going about their lives as best they could, shops and markets full of goods, and streets and squares full of noise and light.

This new Caldera was dark, and dangerous, and echoed with despair. People crossed through half empty streets with their eyes down. Every second building stood empty, the wreckage of homes and businesses left behind as the inhabitants fled, looking for greener pastures. The market stalls held mere scraps of wares at exorbitant prices.

There were more soldiers in the streets than citizens. Their armor polished and their faces healthy in a way that mocked the threadbare trappings and gaunt visages of the common people.

Even their arrival in the city was a far cry from the dramatic, furtive way he and Katara had been forced to escape it twenty years ago. Most of the rebellion's fighters simply entered through the front gates, armed with forged passports and waved through without fanfare. And even those of them who were recognizable, whose faces graced the wanted posters on the notice boards, were quickly smuggled in. They staged a carefully timed scuffle near the gates, and the guards had rushed to quell it, and Toph snuck them in by tunneling under the wall.

They left the tunnel behind to be found by the guards. They wanted Caldera to know that the rebellion was on the move.

Caldera was a huge city, and the rebellion had several bases within its walls. The new arrivals from the air temple spread themselves out, joining different encampments, as a safeguard against all of them being discovered and attacked at once.

Guided by the same cypher that had led Zuko and Katara to a safe house twenty years ago, Zuko led the way into one of Caldera’s richer neighborhoods.

Well, it had once been an affluent neighborhood. Now, it was all but empty, massive mansions sitting dark, most of them run down and ransacked. Perhaps by looters, or perhaps by ordinary people desperate for supplies. Whole communities had moved into the empty estates, squatting several families to a room or camping in the withering gardens, looking for safety in numbers, and shared resources.

Zuko led the way to one of these mansions, Katara, Izumi, Suzu, Kenshin, and half a dozen others from the temple trailing him, and slipped a white lotus tile up onto the windowsill.

The door opened for them.

 

—————

 

Katara looked for ways to be helpful, but the outpost operated like a well tuned orchestra. Everyone had a job, and did it well. Even a dozen new arrivals did little to disrupt the dance of day-to-day life that Katara found inside the walls of that mansion.

They were given space in one of the many rooms on the second floor, an area cleared with enough room to lay out their bedrolls in a long row. Three families shared the space with them, beds and belongings carefully piled together.

Izumi left the room as soon as her bag was stowed. Katara could see the way those families watched her daughter, and she saw how uneasy it made her.

One of the kids, sitting altogether too quietly for a boy so small, had a cough that sounded awful. Katara approached the family, kneeling beside their little mattress.

“Can I look at your chest?” She asked, half to the small boy, and half to the young woman nearby that appeared to be his mother. “I’m a healer. I might be able to help with your cough.”

The woman looked at Katara with a tight, exhausted expression. The little boy looked at his mother, who nodded at him, and the boy nodded too.

“What’s your name?” She asked him.

“Soto,” he said, his voice rasping in his rough throat. That, too, sounded like it hurt.

“We took him to a healer,” the woman said, rubbing the boy’s back and avoiding Katara’s eyes, “but we couldn’t afford the medicines they recommended.”

Katara’s heart twisted, “I’m so sorry.”

Katara reached for her bending water. The boy’s eyes got big.

“It’s ok,” Katara said. “I’m a waterbender. This is how I help.”

The little boy crawled into his mother’s lap, but he let her place water coated hands against his back and his chest. She found the infection in the boy’s lungs immediately. Likely just a chest cold, made worse by the miserable conditions of the city. It would take more than one session to clear completely, but when Katara lifted her hands the boy was already breathing a little easier.

“I can do another session tomorrow,” Katara said to the woman. “But for now…” she smiled at the boy, “I recommend a good nap and lots of hot tea.”

The boy curled into his mother’s chest. He coughed again, but it sounded a little less wet and wrenching. His mother’s gratitude was plain on her face.

“Can I tell the others?” She asked, a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago, “there are so many of us who need a healer.”

“Yes,” Katara said. “Please. Anyone who needs it.”

The woman smiled at her, nodded her thanks, and turned to see if she could get her son to go down for a nap.

Feeling encouraged, Katara left the room, returning to the main floor where most of the rebels and refugees gathered.

There were people preparing communal meals in the mansion’s massive kitchen. More washing laundry in huge tubs and hanging them to try in the gardens behind the house. And those that weren’t at work gathered together as well, sipping tea and laughing and talking. A circle of them played a game with a set of dice.

This was a community. Despite what Caldera had become, these people found ways to survive. It reminded her of home, of a tribe, in a way that even the air temple hadn’t. It made her ache.

“…Katara?”

Katara turned. An old woman sat on a chair near the window, a threadbare shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She looked fragile, all bones and wrinkled skin, but she leapt to her feet with surprising speed and threw her arms around Katara.

“Ayumi!” Katara shrieked, holding the woman tight.

Ayumi was bowed with age, shorter than Katara now because of it, but her grip was strong. Her long silvered hair was tied back with the same easy elegance, and her eyes held the same fierce kindness. Ayumi put a hand on Katara’s cheek.

“Look at you,” Ayumi said. “You grew up.”

Katara huffed a little laugh, and a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. Ayumi caught it with her thumb.

“It’s so good to see you,” Katara said, her voice a little shaky. “I…I never thought I’d see you again.”

Ayumi pulled her into another hug, so secure and motherly that Katara found herself fighting back more tears.

“We were in hiding for a long time, after you left the city,” Ayumi said softly. “But when we heard you were safe, and when we learned about your daughter… it was all worth it.”

When they finally released each other, Ayumi had tears in her eyes too.

“Come with me,” Katara said, taking Ayumi by both hands. “There’s someone you should meet.”

She found Izumi sitting around a low table with several strangers, many of whom were young, close to Izumi’s own age. The table was covered in woodworking tools and paints and…

Spirit masks. They were carving and painting spirit masks.

One of the faces across the table from Izumi was none other than Mina.

“Katara!” Mina said, getting to her feet with a smile.

Katara threw her arms around Mina, who held her like she was a long lost sibling.

“I see you’ve already met Izumi,” Katara said as Mina released her.

Ayumi was looking at Izumi in something like awe. Izumi looked at Katara, her eyes confused, but curious.

“Ayumi,” Katara said. “Meet Avatar Izumi. My daughter.”

Before Katara could stop her, Ayumi folded herself to the ground in front of Izumi in a deep formal bow.

“Ayumi!” Katara said, not quite scolding, but shocked.

Izumi stared at Ayumi, eyes wide. Ayumi pushed herself upright again.

“We never once dreamed, all those years ago,” Ayumi said, “that we were sheltering not only our crown prince and his future family, but the Avatar.”

Ayumi looked up at Mina, who shared her smile. Katara knelt next to Ayumi at the edge of the table. Ayumi reached for Katara’s hand, and then Izumi’s.

“It’s an honor,” Ayumi said. “An incredible honor.”

Katara caught Izumi’s eye and gave her a little nod, a silent promise to tell her everything later. Izumi managed a tight, nervous smile in return.

A tea tray rested at Mina’s elbow, a clay pot and a small stack of little china cups. Mina poured a cup of tea and handed it to Katara, the same soothing spearmint blend that she had enjoyed so often in these women’s home as a girl. She sipped it and tears welled in her eyes. Ayumi reached for her hand again.

“It was all worth it,” she said again, the grip of her knarled hand firm and strong. “It will always be worth it, to give these people hope.”

 

—————

 

The man who headed this cell of the rebellion was named Hiro, and he took Zuko and Kenshin into their storeroom.

“We’ve been hard at work,” Hiro said, lighting a lamp to cast light in the windowless room, “distributing these in preparation.”

The room was full of supplies. Weapons of all varieties. Stacks of painted spirit masks. And everyday supplies like clothing and blankets. Food and rations that bore labels from the fire nation army.

“We’ve been raiding posts and storehouses where we can,” Hiro went on. “Gathering and making whatever we can’t collect. We distribute it all through a series of drop sites, different ones every few days so they’re harder for the fire nation to track down.”

Zuko didn’t miss the way that Hiro spoke of the Fire Nation as if it wasn’t something he belonged to, even though he’d clearly been born here.

“That seems risky,” Kenshin spoke up, “how do you keep the locations from being discovered by the wrong people?”

“Everything here is risky,” Hiro said, giving Kenshin a hard look. “There’s a lot more at stake when you don’t have a temple to retreat back to when you’re done fighting for the day.”

Kenshin dipped his head in deference.

“Everyone in this city knows our safety hangs by a thread,” Hiro said. “There is very little that any of us have left to lose.”

He looked from Zuko, to Kenshin, and back again.

“When the call goes out, the city will be ready,” Hiro said. “I’m sure of it.”

Zuko gave a firm nod.

“How can we help?” He asked. “We have six days until the uprising. Put us to work.”

 

—————

 

Izumi had thought she was familiar with being stared at, with everyone noticing her the moment she walked into a room, but at least everyone at the air temple was used to her. They treated her with reverence even when they didn’t need to sometimes, but they didn’t think she was magical or anything. Everyone here in this hideout looked at Izumi like she was some sort of mythical creature from their bedtime stories, come to life and eating their kimchi.

But…maybe that was what she was, to them.

A small child barreled over, and Izumi instinctively stopped the little girl from reaching for the table spread with the woodcarving tools, scooping her up and propping her on her hip as she stood and scanned the room for a parent. The woman who came to take her from Izumi’s arms bowed to her, acting like her daughter had just been blessed by Agni himself.

When her bowl was clear and her teacup was empty, Izumi retreated out into the garden behind the mansion.

“Garden” was a generous term. The lawn behind the home stretched out wide and green, but the plants were alternately overgrown or withered. But even the garden wasn’t empty. A few of the mansion’s inhabitants sat on the lawn smoking pipes. A few more pulled freshly washed and dried clothing down from clotheslines. A couple of kids chased each other around the grass, shrieking with laughter.

Suzu joined her, leaning her shoulder against the wall next to her.

“What’s up?” Suzu asked.

“I don’t get it,” Izumi said, scanning the yard again, noticing all the eyes that were still on her. “I haven’t even done anything yet. Why are they all looking at me like that?”

“It’s not about what you do for them,” Suzu said with a shrug. “It’s just who you are.”

Izumi snorted.

“Izumi,” Suzu reached for her hand and took it firmly in hers, “you’re the Avatar. You don’t have to do anything to give these people hope. You just have to…be you.”

Suzu’s thumb traced over Izumi’s hand, and something warm and wonderful stirred in Izumi’s chest. Izumi turned so she was leaning on her shoulder too, facing Suzu.

Izumi couldn’t quite pin down where and when it had begun. She only knew how she felt when Suzu was near her. Safe. Happy. Protected. Understood. And like she would give anything to make sure Suzu felt the same.

It had been Uncle Sokka that she’d felt most comfortable going to, when she realized she wanted to talk about how she might have a different sort of feelings for her best friend.

“It’s practically in your blood,” Uncle Sokka had assured her. “You’ve seen your Aunties. And your Aunt Suki and I are both bi. So’s your dad.”

Izumi had smiled at that, “really?”

“Yeah,” Uncle had said, “he doesn’t talk about it much, since he’s so happy with your mom, but I’m sure he’d have a lot to say about it if you ask him. Just don’t ask either of your parents what happened with Jet.”

“…Well now I’m definitely going to ask both my parents what happened with Jet,” Izumi had said.

“Absolutely not!” He’d countered, horrified. “They’ll know I told you!”

“I could blame Aunt Suki.”

“…yeah, do that.”

But suddenly, standing across from Suzu as the sun fell toward the western wall, Izumi realized she might be running out of chances to do something about how she felt.

And in the next breath she realized she couldn’t do that to Suzu. She couldn’t tell this amazing woman, her best friend in the world, that she cared for her in ways that were different than friendship and then go fight a battle she might not come home from. She couldn’t do that. Not to Suzu.

But Suzu had other ideas.

Cautiously, Suzu reached toward Izumi again, taking one of Izumi’s hands in both of hers. Izumi stared into Suzu’s warm brown eyes, feeling like she belonged there. Feeling safe. Suzu’s lips parted, her expression a little breathless.

“Izumi,” Suzu said. “I know this might be the wrong time. But…I can’t help but think…if all of this goes wrong…?”

“I know,” Izumi said. “…me too.”

“I…” Suzu looked down. “I care about you. As…as a friend, but also as-”

Izumi reached for Suzu. She took her face in her hand and pulled her close.

Izumi kissed her. And Suzu smiled against her lips and kissed her back.

 

——————

 

Katara leaned back against Zuko’s chest, exhausted. Zuko sat back against the wall, his legs stretched long across his bedroll. His hand combed through her hair and she felt his lips on the top of her head.

Only a few lights remained lit in the room. The mansion’s inhabitants were settling in for the night.

Katara had healed more people in the last few hours than she could remember helping in a single day before. There were so many people here who needed help. She’d felt herself wearing thin, losing energy, but had refused to turn anyone away. She’d considered asking Izumi for support, but Izumi’s strength was needed elsewhere. If Katara wasn’t careful, she was going to fall asleep against Zuko’s chest, still half upright.

Izumi wandered into the room then, trailed by Suzu. They made for Suzu’s bedroll, sitting side by side with their backs against the wall.

Zuko tapped her on the shoulder.

“Suzu and Izumi kissed,” he said, softly in her ear.

She picked up her head, “how do you know?”

Katara looked over at Izumi, who sat with her hands twined with Suzu’s. The two girls tilted toward each other, drawn toward one another like opposing poles on a magnet.

She hummed sleepily, “good for them.”

It had a way of bringing people together, waiting right on the edge of the fight of your life. Katara and Zuko both knew a few things about that.

At least Izumi and Suzu wouldn’t end up pregnant.

Zuko pressed a kiss to her cheek and started to rise. Katara grumbled her dissatisfaction and put her head down on his chest again.

“Sorry love,” he breathed, rising gently.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

But he was already reaching for his dao swords. His Blue Spirit mask. She set her lips in a tight line and nodded.

The uprising was less than a week away. There would be no rest tonight. Not for him, and not for Izumi.

He rose to his full height, stowing his swords over his back. He caught Izumi’s eye across the room, and gestured toward the door with his chin. Izumi sighed and nodded back.

Zuko bent and pressed his lips to Katara’s.

“Be careful,” she breathed.

“Always,” he said.

And with one more kiss on her cheek, he was gone.

 

.

Chapter 22: Book 3 - Part 4

Notes:

Just wanted to say before we start here that this fic passed 10k hits this week. This is my first fic to hit that milestone so, thanks all. You’re champions. 🤍🤍

Year 20, Day 143

 

As Izumi crept out into the city, it began to rain.

She and her Dad split up. Caldera was massive, and if they wanted rumors to spread, the more ground they could cover, the better. In less than a week, they wanted the city to rise up with them. The rebellion had been at work here for years, garnering support. Laying the groundwork. But they had six days to stoke the flames, and they weren’t going to waste a one.

Her Dad went out masked. Izumi showed her face.

Izumi kept to the rooftops wherever she could, watching for people moving on the streets. Keeping her eyes on the late night guard patrols that moved about the city in little bubbles of light. There weren’t many civilians out. The army enforced a curfew after dark.

Izumi crouched at the peak of a shop roof in a narrow, cramped street. The rain splattered against the roof tiles and ran cold down the back of her neck.

And she spotted a figure rushing through the streets. A civilian by the look of him, wrapped in a cloak against the rain and moving very fast between the awnings below. Out very late. Rushing home.

From her vantage, she could see the flickering light of a guard patrol approaching from an intersecting street.

The man crossed the intersection, and was immediately spotted.

“Halt!” one of the soldiers called.

The man froze. He spun toward the call, his hands shooting up in a clear gesture of surrender. A woven bag fell to his feet, splashing in a puddle. He quickly snatched it up again and threw the strap over his shoulder.

Izumi crept closer to the intersection and began to climb down to the street.

“It’s past curfew,” one of the soldiers barked, “what are you doing on the streets?”

“I know,” the man gasped, frantic, “I’m on my way home. They kept us late. A-at the shipyards.”

“And that bag?” the other soldier asked. “Contraband?”

“No!” the man said, but he pressed the bag a little closer to his side as he did.

The soldier’s eyes darkened, “We’ll see about that-”

Izumi burst into the street, flames filling the air with light. The soldiers scattered. Izumi leapt, putting herself between the soldiers and the man.

She seized the rain.

For a moment, the air around them cleared, and everything went still.

Then she gathered all the strength of the downpour and threw it at the two soldiers. The water hit them in a massive wave and threw them back against the buildings. One hit his head hard and did not rise. The other staggered to his feet, sputtering, and drew his sword.

Izumi drew hers and rushed to meet him. He swung at her and she met his blades with both of her own, disarming him faster than breathing. She pressed him back against the wall with the tip of one sword against his chest.

“You’re…you’re the Avatar,” the soldier gasped.

“...Obviously,” Izumi said.

The man whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. Izumi knew she shouldn’t enjoy it, but she enjoyed it a little bit, seeing a bully brought low.

She lifted her sword from his chest and kicked at his leg, which buckled.

“Go home,” she snapped. “Get your friend and get out of here. And leave these people alone.”

He didn’t even look at her as he scrambled to his feet, limping, crossed to his unconscious comrade, and pulled him across his shoulders. Staggering, he disappeared into the dark.

He’d left his sword lying in the rain.

Izumi sheathed her weapons and turned to the man she’d rescued. He’d fled to the edge of the intersection, but he remained under an awning, watching her. She crossed to him. Up close, he was younger than she’d expected, probably only in his mid twenties.

“Are you ok?” she asked him.

He nodded shakily, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ok.”

“Can you get home all right?” she asked.

He nodded again, his eyes very wide.

“You’re… the Avatar,” he said.

It was such an echo of what the soldier had just said that Izumi nearly laughed.

“Yeah,” she said. “I am.”

Somehow the man’s eyes got even bigger.

“I…thank you,” he said.

“Of course. Get home safe.”

He nodded one more time, dipped his head in a little bow, and dashed off into the night.

Izumi followed him, surreptitiously, from the rooftops, to make sure he got home without running into any more trouble. A man met him at the door of his home, folding him into a tight embrace as he threw the door shut behind them.

It was such a small thing, but it made Izumi so proud.

This was who she was. Who she’d become. Someone who, no matter how dangerous it was, was always able to help.

 

—————

 

Year 20, Day 144

 

Even when he’d been out all night, Zuko still struggled to sleep through the morning. When Katara awoke, a good hour after sunrise, he tried to get up with her. He’d probably been lying awake next to her, trying to sleep and looking for an excuse to get up, for that whole last hour.

“You have to rest,” she said to him as he sat up.

“I can’t,” he grumbled.

“You have to try,” she insisted.

Zuko sighed and ran a hand over his eyes. He looked exhausted. He’d spent the last two nights out in the city, making appearances and helping the city’s people however he could. She’d heard him return last night, waking for just a moment as he’d laid down next to her. Katara had fallen asleep again right away, but she knew that that moment couldn’t have been more than three or four hours ago. And he’d likely been awake since the sun rose. Firebender blood. A better timepiece than any clock.

Across the room, Izumi was sprawled on her bedroll on her stomach, still deep in her dreams even as the room around her started to wake up.

Katara shifted behind Zuko, pressing her hands against the stiff, knotted muscles in his neck and shoulders. He heaved a heavy sigh and dropped his head. She tucked his hair behind his ear so she could press a kiss to his cheek.

“You have to rest,” she repeated. “Even if you don’t sleep. Rest.”

He sighed again but didn’t fight her. He put his head down on her lap. He closed his eyes. Katara combed a soothing hand through his hair.

She felt the moment he fell asleep, softening against her legs. Her own tension eased a little too.

He’d fallen asleep with the scarred side of his face turned upward, his unmarked cheek down against her legs. A thing she knew he could only do when he felt safe. He couldn’t hear as well out of that damaged ear as he could the other.

She traced his scar with her fingertips, lightly to make sure she didn’t wake him.

They’d never spoken about her offer to try to heal it. The offer she’d made several lifetimes ago in the caverns beneath Ba Sing Se. She’d never asked again, to see if it was something he might truly want. Probably because it was a moot point anyway. She’d need water from the spirit oasis to even have a chance of it working, and that water was trapped behind several different battle lines.

But if they won…maybe she could try. Maybe she could get more water from the North Pole and try. Even if the scar couldn’t be erased -or if Zuko didn’t want it gone, now that it had been part of him for so long- maybe she could at least give him some of his hearing back. Soften the scar tissue that encased his ear. Loosen the tightness around his eye that limited his vision and gave him such awful headaches sometimes.

It gave her a tiny burst of hope, imagining a future where she was able to try.

Regardless, they were finally about to bring a reckoning to the monster that had given it to him. And that was worth a lot.

 

—————

 

Trouble found them quickly.

It always did.

When Zuko finally rose again, waking up with his head in Katara’s lap, it was well into the morning. He woke to find the rest of the mansion alert and hard at work.

It made him feel foolish, sleeping so much of the morning away.

Mina had just handed him a cup of tea -a rich black, dark and bracing- when the news came in

“Soldiers in the street,” a young boy, -teenaged, younger than Izumi even- reported. “A whole brigade. Headed this way.”

Hiro rose, “Prepare to evacuate.”

Immediately, the community burst into motion.

Zuko threw back his tea like a bitter medicine and prepared.

 

—————

 

Izumi watched from the second floor window as the brigade marched up to the front of the mansion. Beneath her, she could hear the scuffle of the building’s inhabitants starting to move out, evacuating with a calm speed that suggested practice. There was a hidden back gate on the opposite side of the garden that served as an escape route.

Provided the soldiers hadn’t already found it and blocked it off.

She felt a little sick. This hideout had been safe for ages, and two days after she arrived, it was discovered?

The soldiers forced the lock on the front gate. It fell with a clang and the troop swarmed up the path toward the door. They’d brought a whole brigade. Enough to be a threat.

Hiro stepped out the front door to meet them.

The soldiers fanned out in front of the house, forming a semicircle several rows deep. One man stepped forward, leaving the others standing at attention.

“What are you doing here?” Hiro asked.

“We know you’re housing rebels,” the commander barked at Hiro. “The Fire Lord has allowed your sort to shack up here, but harboring traitors is a criminal offense. Step aside and no one has to get hurt.”

Hiro crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance.

“No,” he said.

Izumi swallowed hard. She had no idea who this mansion had once belonged to, but it wasn’t Hiro. He had no real right to stop them from entering. Not that the army would respect anyway. He was stalling for time. Nothing more.

The commander drew his sword, “I don’t think you understand. Let us pass, or we will enter by force.”

Hiro’s chin lifted and his hands came down to his sides.

“No,” he said.

The commander growled. His sword swung back.

Izumi leapt.

She threw herself through the open window and fell toward the commander. Tiny bursts of flame from her hands steadied and steered her, and she hit the man’s chest feet first. He collapsed, crying out as he struck the ground, Izumi’s weight coming down on top of him. She thought she heard bone crack.

“Go!” She shouted to Hiro.

Hiro scrambled back toward the house.

Izumi sprang back as the first line of soldiers attacked. She dodged and deflected their flames, retreating up the front steps of the mansion. She pried up the cobblestones of the path with her earthbending and flung them at the line of fighters. The line wavered.

And Izumi turned and ran, slamming the front door behind her and bolting it.

“Let’s go!” She shouted.

They were already moving. Families and refugees and rebels who weren’t strong fighters were already moving out of the house and through the garden, heading for their escape route. Those that were prepared to fight had already formed lines.

Suzu burst in from the back of the house.

“I blocked the sides,” she said. “If the soldiers want to get to the back garden they’ll have to come through the house.”

The front door rattled. Once. Twice.

Izumi joined the line of warriors, hands at the ready.

The door burst into flame.

 

—————

 

Fighting inside the mansion was terrible. There was no space and every new corner formed a new choke point.

And still the soldiers forced their way in.

Their firebenders kept to the front. Zuko and Izumi and the local rebels who were benders. Fighting fire with fire.

Katara backed away through the hall, covering the back exit until all of the civilians were clear, racing across the garden. Zuko and Izumi both still fought the incoming soldiers, but they were only a few paces behind.

“Zuko!” She yelled. “Izumi! We’re clear!”

They both started retreating a little faster, working in tandem to block the constant barrage of flames. Any time an attacker went down there was another to take his place.

Katara stumbled down the back steps and into the sunlight, Zuko and Izumi at her heels.

Across the garden, the column of escaping rebels and refugees was moving through the hidden gate in the wall as quickly as they could. But Katara could already tell that it wasn’t going to be fast enough.

She ripped water out of the grass of the lawn, throwing it up against the door, freezing it shut. Izumi copied her, adding another layer to the barrier of ice.

But the warriors on the other side were firebenders, and immediately set to melting it. It wouldn’t hold for long.

“We have to hold them,” Zuko said, squaring up again.

“We can hold them,” Izumi said.

“No,” Katara said. “Go. You have to get out of here!”

The crown prince and the Avatar. The rebellion would fold without them.

She couldn’t look at either of them. She threw a glance back over her shoulder at the escaping rebels.

And saw someone rushing back in their direction.

It looked like Ayumi.

The icy barricade creaked ominously. Water began to trickle down the steps. Katara caught the runoff and threw it back against the doorframe, refreezing it.

“Move!” She snapped. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She met Zuko’s eyes for just a moment.

Then he nodded. He called to Izumi and they ran.

They passed Ayumi as they did. Ayumi moved as quickly as she was able, approaching Katara with a determined stride. She had a quiver full of arrows across her back, and a wicked looking bow in her hands.

“Go,” Ayumi said, stepping up beside her. “Go with them.”

“No,” Katara said. “The door has to hold.”

Ayumi strung an arrow on her bow.

“It will hold,” she said.

Katara growled in frustration, catching and replacing more of the meltwater.

“Katara,” Ayumi snapped at her. “Go. Cover the retreat. When everyone is through, block the passage.”

“No!” Katara’s voice got caught in her throat.

Ayumi caught Katara by the shoulder and tugged hard. Katara turned and met her gaze. Her eyes were determined and resigned.

“Go,” Ayumi insisted. “Let me show these traitors what their elders are made of.”

She put one hand on Katara’s cheek.

“Go, child,” Ayumi said.

Katara obeyed. She swept a final layer of water up against the barrier, reinforcing it one last time, then turned and sprinted for the wall.

She reached the archway, encouraging the escaping refugees through a bit faster.

“Move!” She shouted. “Let’s go!”

She heard rather than saw the ice barrier fall. It crumbled with a sound like a cracking glacier. Katara spun back.

Ayumi felled the first soldier with an arrow, the weapon punching through armor at close range.

One by one, soldiers fell to her. She drew and aimed with incredible speed and devastating accuracy. The doorway became congested with fallen enemies.

And then Ayumi ran out of arrows.

Katara could only watch as the next soldier, unimpeded, barreled out of the house and cut Ayumi down.

Katara cried out, reflexively turning to run back.

One of the last escaping rebels grabbed Katara by the arm and yanked her toward the archway.

Katara turned and ran with them.

They burst out on the other side of the wall. Those who’d gotten through first had already begun to scatter into the streets, taking varied paths to safety. Katara’s eyes fell on Suzu, who waited with other fighters, covering their retreat.

“Suzu,” Katara said. “Block the tunnel.”

The girl settled deep into her knees. The earth under the arch rose, demolishing the gate, sealing off the pathway, locking the soldiers inside.

“Let’s move,” someone barked.

Katara obeyed, falling into step with the other retreating warriors, tracing her assigned path of escape.

By the third corner, her tears caught up with her.

 

—————

 

Zuko reached their new base at the head of a group of rebels and civilians, Izumi helping him shepherd them in to safety. Their new hideout was an abandoned shipping warehouse near the docks, a maze of hallways and oddly sized rooms. The new arrivals milled around the largest open space, voices hushed, disoriented and anxious.

Zuko caught sight of Sokka, appearing out of the hallways to help as more and more retreating rebels trickled in. Kenshin approached Sokka, undoubtedly filling him in on what had happened.

Zuko watched the crowd for Katara.

She was still on her way. She had to be. She’d been one of the last to retreat. Just because she hadn’t arrived yet didn’t mean she wasn’t coming.

But the longer he watched the crowd, the more his heart got lodged in his throat.

He spotted Suzu as she slipped in through the doors, and right behind her came Katara.

Zuko moved. He wove and dodged his way through the crowd and rushed to her. She spotted him and raced to meet him.

He caught her face in his hands at the same moment that her hands found his chest, dragging him toward her by the fabric of his shirt.

Their lips met, desperate and grateful, his hands grasping at her like if he just held tight enough, he would never have to worry for her again.

He left his forehead against hers. He couldn’t breathe. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

“Don’t ever make me leave you like that again,” he gasped out.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed. “I love you so much.”

“I know. I love you too.”

He kissed her again. Her hair had come loose from its braid, and he tucked the flyaway strands away from her face.

There were tears on her cheeks, falling freely, and she made no attempt to stop them.

“Ayumi?” He asked.

She shook her head.

Zuko folded her against his chest. His own heart ached. Again, that amazing woman had protected them, and this time, she’d done it with her life.

Still holding Katara, Zuko looked out over the crowd again. He spotted Izumi weaving her way through the room, Suzu close at her side.

“Mom!” She called.

Katara picked up her head, and the both of them turned to meet their daughter. Izumi threw herself at them. Their beautiful girl. The three of them met in a single crushing embrace. One arm around his daughter, and one around his wife.

For right now, they were safe.

 

———————

 

Azula was summoned to the Fire Lord’s throne room.

Flanked by an unnecessary amount of guards, Azula walked through the palace with her heart in her throat.

It was a show of force, nothing more. The entourage. The formal summons.

Father had kept her imprisoned in the depths of the palace for months after her escape attempt with Ichiro. For months she’d borne the full weight of his cruelty.

But Azula was done resisting. She couldn’t. Not while Father had her son. Father knew that. Eventually she’d been returned to her same set of rooms.

She took some small comfort in knowing that Ichiro was safe, in a way. If anything happened to him, there would be no more reason for Azula to obey. She knew Father knew that too.

The doors opened and Azula was ushered in.

The throne room burned with his hot, stifling flames. The Fire Lord himself sat in the center, staring down on her with his dark, imperious stare.

Ichiro sat at his right side. Still and tense. His head bowed and his hands in his lap.

Azula crossed to the center of the room and pressed her forehead to the floor.

“Rise,” Father said.

Azula obeyed.

She risked a glance at Ichiro. He looked, as ever, unharmed. Physically at least. His eyes met hers for a brief moment, furtive and anxious, then darted back to his lap.

They’d kept him from her, at first. They’d only allowed her to start seeing him again once they realized how much the separation was hurting Ichiro. They didn’t care about Azula’s well being, not anymore, but they did care about the health of their crown prince.

Azula wore chains anytime they allowed him near her.

“Azula,” Father spoke. “The Avatar is here in the city.”

It was true then. The whispers she’d heard from the soldiers and her guards. The rebellion was moving in on Caldera.

The rumors hinted that Zuko was here too.

“You have been presented with a unique opportunity, daughter,” the Fire Lord’s lips twisted in a sneer. “A chance to…restore your honor.”

Azula bit her tongue to catch her retort.

“Find the Avatar,” Father ordered. “And bring her to me. And we will show this petty rebellion what happens when they defy the authority of the Phoenix King.”

The flames before him burned a little brighter. Ichiro shrank back.

Azula lifted her chin. As defiant as she could manage.

But still she said, “yes, Father. As you command.”

She could feel her heartbeat in her ears as she spun and marched back out of the throne room.

This “petty rebellion” was her lifeline.

She knew what she had to do.

 

.

Chapter 23: Book 3 - Part 5

Year 20, Day 145

 

It was better, having them all in one place again. Izumi understood why they’d split up when they arrived in the city, but that morning, she looked at all the familiar faces around the table, Uncle Sokka, all her Aunts, her parents, shoulder to shoulder with the local leaders, and finally felt calm again. This felt right.

Uncle Sokka unrolled a map of Caldera on the table.

“We’ve had a setback, sure,” he said, drawing an ‘x’ through the mansion they’d been forced to abandon yesterday, “but casualties were minimal.”

He looked up at Izumi, and at Katara, and at Hiro.

“It was good work,” he said.

Izumi set her jaw and nodded.

“And I see no reason not to go forward with the next steps of the plan,” Uncle went on.

The map highlighted army posts throughout the city, the places where guards and soldiers gathered. Where they waited for orders and where they retreated when they were done policing and “peacekeeping.”

“Hitomi,” Uncle said, turning to the woman in charge of the outpost here in the old warehouse, “fill us in on your drop sites.”

Hitomi pointed out the locations where they would be spreading supplies over the final few days. She highlighted a few where she believed a visit from Zuko would be especially poignant.

“The rumors are already flying,” Hiro offered. “I don’t think there’s a single person in the city who doesn’t know that the Blue Spirit and the Avatar are both here.”

“Which means the soldiers are going to be extra vigilant,” Hitomi added, “and very volatile.”

Uncle Sokka nodded, “good. We want them at the end of their rope long before we make our final move.”

Uncle paused, looking up at her dad.

“And that gives us a chance to draw out Azula,” he said.

Dad’s face twisted in a pained grimace, but he nodded.

“Izumi,” Uncle turned to her. “Your presence especially is what will pull her out of the palace. If all goes well, we’ll lay a trap for her tomorrow. For today…”

He gave her a devious little smile.

“Cause as much chaos as possible,” he ordered.

Izumi grinned, “I’m on it.”

 

—————-

 

Izumi wreaked absolute havoc on Caldera.

She ambushed pairs of guards as they made their rounds and left them unconscious in alleyways, or stuck to the walls with ice or sunk into the dirt up to their knees.

She teamed up with Suzu and Auntie Toph and absolutely ruined the roadways between the barracks and the palace, making them utterly impassible for their war machines.

She found a message tower a little too near to one of Caldera’s water lines and flooded it, reducing weeks worth of correspondence to pulp.

She couldn’t stay anywhere for long. Not if she wanted to avoid being caught. But she did let herself be seen. She fed the rumors every chance she got.

She intercepted a transport taking in a handful of prisoners and broke them out, leaving the wagon in shambles and the guards in boneless, chi-blocked heaps.

It was the prison transport that caught the palace’s attention.

 

—————

 

“We’ve got her,” Izumi said. “She’s tracking me around the city.”

Zuko couldn’t get a full breath. The lightning scar on his chest itched under his clothes.

“You’re certain she didn’t follow you back here?” Suki asked.

Izumi nodded, “positive. She was tracking reports of me west from where I stopped the transport. That’s the last place I had contact with anyone.”

“Good work,” said Sokka.

Zuko swallowed hard and tried to focus.

“Did you find a location you like?” Sokka asked.

Izumi bent over the map, pointing at a wide public square near the old merchants’ district.

“Here,” she said. “Plenty of spaces to hide, and I can lead her there from the guard post just east of it.”

Sokka nodded, his chin in his hand as he leaned over the map.

“Good,” he said. “Perfect. We’ll take our team there before sunup tomorrow. We’ll get you a set of rebels to help you attack the post.”

He looked to Hiro and Hitomi, who nodded their agreement.

“When Azula arrives, Izumi will lead her to the square,” Sokka said.

“Are we sure she’ll show?” Hitomi asked.

“Yes,” Zuko replied before Sokka could.

If his sister was on the hunt, nothing would slow her down. Zuko felt Katara’s hand on his back, trying to soothe him, and tried very hard not to flinch away.

“Knowing Azula, the moment she has some distance and a clear shot, she’ll attack with lightning,” Sokka went on. “Lightning takes a moment to summon, so as she winds up, we’ll spring our trap. She’ll be distracted. Focused on the Avatar. Far too distracted to fight so many of us at once.”

Zuko fought for his breath. There would be eight of them. Nine, counting Izumi. Himself and Katara. Sokka and Suki. Toph and Ty Lee. Kenshin, and Suzu.

Izumi could catch Azula’s lightning and redirect it back at her. And even if Izumi failed to hit with the redirected blast, eight was too many, even for Azula. Especially when those eight were these eight. Four extraordinarily powerful benders, of three different elements. And four more warriors of such incredible skill.

It would work. He knew it would work.

Still, Zuko felt sick.

 

—————

 

Neither of them went out that night. Zuko and Izumi both needed to save all their strength for the confrontation with Azula in the morning.

It had to be done. Zuko swallowed hard and repeated that to himself. They needed to remove Azula from play before the final assault on the palace. There would be enough to manage that day without having to worry about where Azula might show up.

And it had to be Izumi. No one else would be a promising enough target. Zuko himself might be enough, but the Avatar definitely would be. It had to be Izumi.

Zuko had to let his daughter be used as bait to draw out the most dangerous enemy they had ever faced.

He found her sitting with Suzu at the edge of one of the warehouse’s main rooms, perched on a handful of old crates. The two girls leaned into one another, Izumi’s head tilted toward Suzu’s shoulder and their hands intertwined between them. Izumi picked up her head as he approached, her eyes tired and nervous.

Agni, she was just a kid.

He gave them both a small smile.

“Suzu,” he said. “Can I have a minute with Izumi?”

“Yeah,” Suzu said. “Sure.”

Suzu gave Izumi a soft kiss on the cheek, squeezed her hand, and moved away. Zuko watched her go. Noted the little smile on Izumi’s face as she too watched Suzu retreat. Zuko settled into the space on the crate that Suzu had just vacated, tucking his legs underneath him.

“Have I mentioned how happy I am for you two?” He asked.

Izumi gave a little laugh, “only about six times.”

Zuko laughed too, leaning back against the wall.

“But that’s not what you came over here for,” Izumi added.

Zuko sighed. He shook his head. He swallowed hard against the pit of fear in his stomach.

“What do you know about Azula?” He asked.

Izumi’s lips pulled into a tight line. She didn’t look at him.

“That she’s your sister,” Izumi said. “Uncle says she’s the strongest firebender in the world. I know we usually don’t try to fight her. But I suppose it makes sense that we have to now. Before the uprising.”

Zuko nodded.

“Uncle Sokka…” Izumi hesitated. “Uncle Sokka called her a monster. When he first told me about her.”

Zuko winced.

But…Sokka wasn’t wrong.

Izumi looked over at him, “why didn’t you tell me about her? You told me about the Fire Lord when I was a kid. Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?”

Guilt joined the fear in his chest.

“I think I was hoping that you’d never meet her,” he admitted. “That you’d never need to fight her. She’s…”

He searched for the right words. Azula was dangerous and remorseless but she was still his sister. And she’d spent the last twenty years still trapped under their father’s thumb.

He wondered, sometimes, if killing her on the day of their Agni Kai would have been the kinder choice.

Zuko took another breath and went on.

“What do you know about the Agni Kai on the day of Sozin’s Comet?” He asked.

Izumi grimaced, “Just that you and mom fought Azula. That you won, but that it didn’t matter in the end because Avatar Aang didn’t defeat the Fire Lord.”

Zuko nodded stiffly, “that’s all true. But… Katara and I came to fight Azula together, and then Azula challenged me to an Agni Kai. She wanted to separate us, but I was so sure I could beat her on my own. And I…I did it to try and keep your mom safe.”

Zuko set his teeth. Memories of that day weren’t ones he revisited if he could help it.

“The scar on my chest?” He said, “It’s from that day. It’s from Azula.”

Izumi’s eyes went wide.

“Azula attacked your mom with lightning,” he said. “She wasn’t supposed to. An Agni Kai forbids interference, and forbids attacking bystanders. But Azula attacked Katara. And the only way to stop her was to…get in the way.”

He swore he could still feel it sometimes. The extraordinary pain of the lightning tearing through him. It certainly showed up often enough in his nightmares.

Beside him, Izumi had gone very quiet.

“Your mom saved my life,” he added. “She defeated Azula, and then healed me. She kept me safe, and kept me alive.”

Zuko’s next breath shook.

“But I’m telling you this so that you know what kind of person Azula is,” he said. “She plays by her own rules. Always has. She doesn’t care about anything except herself. She…she will destroy you if you give her the chance.”

He looked at Izumi. She was about the age Katara had been, when they’d fought Azula together in the fire nation palace.

“And…I’m sorry that you have to be the one to face her,” he said.

Izumi hugged him. She threw her arms around his neck and held tight. Startled, it took a moment for Zuko to put his arms around her in return.

“It’s ok,” she said. “I can do this.”

Zuko fought against the sudden tightness in his throat. He knew she could. If anyone could, it was Izumi. She was her mother’s daughter and always had been. She had the same fierceness. The same cleverness.

Spirits, she was astonishing. Zuko had made a lot of mistakes in his life, but Izumi wasn’t one of them.

“I…I know,” he said. “I…”

He let her go. He looked her in the eye. Her bright, water tribe eyes that were so like Katara’s. And he said the same words his uncle had said to him.

“I believe in you, Izumi,” he said. “I believe in who you are.”

And Izumi -his daughter, Katara’s daughter, the Avatar- met his gaze with determination and nodded.

 

—————

 

Year 20, Day 146

 

Izumi led the charge.

And the whole troop of rebels? They followed.

They attacked the guard post near the courtyard in force. They had archers on the rooftops nearby laying down cover. They held lines as soldiers tore out into the street to defend their post.

Izumi darted across the battlefield like a whirlwind. Leaping in and out of danger, finding the places where the rebels were struggling and enforcing the line. Dropping soldiers or sending them scurrying back into the post, nursing wounds or to wait for their bending to return.

They didn’t need to actually take the post. Even if they did, they'd never hold it. Not yet. They just needed to hold their line, cause enough trouble that Azula came out to fight.

Izumi used all four elements interchangeably. She blocked enemy fire with her own. She turned soldiers away from their targets with waves of water. She battered the enemy lines with rocks and tripped them with the earth under their feet. She bounded away with airbending to quickly get to wherever she was needed.

The rebels were holding. They were holding but they were also falling around her. She couldn’t protect all of them.

Come on, she thought. Someone tell Azula where the Avatar is!

And then, like a vision, like an answer to a prayer, Azula roared onto the field.

She ignored the other rebels and made straight for Izumi.

Izumi met her, blow for blow, flame for flame.

She’d seen Azula before, but only from a distance. Up close, she looked so much like her Dad.

She was terrifying.

It took all of Izumi’s skill to hold her ground. She scrambled to block Azula’s attacks, barely able to return them.

Izumi leapt back, airbending to give herself height. Rolled in the air. Landed.

She attacked from below. Azula twisted and dodged every bit of earth that Izumi raised to trip her up. And all the while Izumi continued to move backward, away from the post.

Azula got her feet back under her and attacked.

Izumi spun and ran.

Azula pursued.

 

——————

 

Azula came alone.

Katara watched from her hiding place as Izumi tore into the courtyard, sprinting across the open space, leaping and dodging Azula’s flames. Azula herself leapt down from roofs above her, little bursts of fire slowing her fall.

Izumi skidded to a stop. Spun back to face Azula.

Azula roared and threw a massive wave of fire at Izumi.

Katara’s heart leapt into her mouth.

Izumi stopped the flames. She settled back into her heels and put up her arms and she stopped them. The fire formed a wide, flat, burning wall in front of her, where it held until it dissipated into smoke.

Izumi lowered her hands to her side, resetting, breathing heavily.

Across the courtyard from her, Azula did the same.

She watched Izumi breathe.

Azula began to summon lightning.

 

—————

 

20 years earlier

 

Azula summoned lightning. And her eyes found Katara.

Azula shifted. Lunged. Launched a lightning bolt not at Zuko, but at Katara.

Katara froze.

Zuko leapt.

“No!” Zuko yelled, throwing himself into the lightning’s path.

“Zuko!” Katara screamed as Zuko took the bolt of lightning straight to the gut.

He fell.

Convulsed.

Didn’t get up.

 

—————-

 

All of a sudden Katara was a child again. She’d been only barely older than Izumi was now when Azula’s lightning had nearly taken Zuko from her. She was not going to stand by and let it happen again.

Azula threw a bolt of lightning at Izumi.

There was a fountain at the end of the square and Katara emptied it.

Azula threw lightning, and Katara threw water.

She intercepted the bolt of lightning with a massive wave, shielding Izumi from its deadly power and sweeping it away.

And the water hit Kenshin, who dropped like a stone.

 

—————

 

Izumi grounded down into her heels, feeling the earth under her feet. She breathed. She saw Azula wind up. Aim. She saw the lightning leap from her hand.

A wave of water swept between them.

The lightning struck the water. It fanned out across the wave’s surface in a crackling fractal of light, sparkling with energy.

Izumi stumbled back. And the wave traveled past her.

Right where Kenshin was rushing in toward Azula.

The wave crashed into him. He went rigid and toppled to the ground.

“Kenshin!” Izumi shouted.

She sprinted for him. She gathered up the water and bent it all away in one swift motion, throwing it far away where no one else would touch it. She dropped to her knees at Kenshin’s side.

He was unconscious. He wasn’t breathing.

Izumi ripped her bending water free and coated her hands.

There were burns, surface level things that left forked patterns on his skin. She ignored those.

He wasn’t breathing. She felt at his neck. There was no pulse.

His chi was still moving, but it was scattered and erratic. Not flowing at all in the ways that it should. Izumi tried to guide it. Tried to correct the pattern. Maybe if she could get it moving normally again he would wake up.

“Come on. Come on, please!”

She felt him die. She felt the moment his body’s energy stopped flowing. She felt the life that lingered in him just…vanish.

“No!”

She pressed a water-wrapped hand against his face.

“No! No no no!”

But there was nothing she could do. There was no chi left to work with. Nothing left of him to heal.

Kenshin was gone.

Izumi put her forehead down on Kenshin’s chest and screamed

 

.

Chapter 24: Book 3 - Part 6

Year 20, Day 147

 

Failure was a weight around Zuko’s neck.

Azula had gotten away. In the chaos of the attack, Katara breaking formation, Kenshin falling, Izumi rushing to his side instead of dealing the deciding blow… Azula had escaped.

All their work, Kenshin’s life, and they hadn’t even gotten Azula.

Zuko could barely look at Katara. He hated himself for it. He knew her grief had to be eating her alive. But if she had just kept to the plan. If she had just attacked Azula like she was meant to. If she had just trusted Izumi instead of rushing to save her…

Katara sat on her bedroll near the wall, looking down into her bowl of breakfast but not eating any of it, avoiding eye contact with everyone else in the room.

Zuko’s jaw tightened, and he left.

The largest room of the old warehouse had high, flimsy windows near the ceiling. The glass was cracked or missing altogether in most places, but they let in the sun.

He found Izumi standing in that pool of sunlight in the center of the room. Her eyes closed. Her head bowed.

He went to join her, but before he could speak, she began to move through the form for redirecting lightning. Tracing a line down one arm, sharply down to her stomach, then back up the other arm. Motions he’d taught her almost as soon as she’d revealed herself to be the Avatar. This skill had been built for her. A firebender who’d been born a waterbender.

And still, Katara had intervened.

Zuko stepped up beside her and joined her in the form. Arm. Stomach. Other arm.

She looked at him, and he saw the grief in her eyes.

It broke his fucking heart.

“I couldn’t save him,” she said, softly, not pausing in her movements.

“You did everything you could,” he said.

She shut her eyes. Tears ran down her face. But she didn’t stop working through the pattern, so neither did he.

“I could have done it,” she said, “with the lightning.”

“I know.”

“Then why…”

They both let the question hang in the air. Izumi knew the answer. She didn’t need Zuko to say it. It was a long moment before Izumi spoke again.

“Dad?” Izumi said.

“Yes?”

“I know you’re not going to believe me,” she said. “But…Azula wasn’t going to hit me.”

“What?” Zuko said, a little incredulous.

“I was ready to catch that lightning,” Izumi said. “I was ready. And I saw it. It wasn’t going to hit me. Even if Mom hadn’t…”

She stopped. She let her hands fall to her sides. Zuko stopped too.

“She’d have missed me,” Izumi said. “Azula missed.”

Zuko snorted, “Azula doesn’t miss.”

“Then she wasn’t aiming for me.”

Zuko shook his head. He knew his sister, and he knew she always got what she wanted. She always succeeded, and if she didn’t, it was just part of her plan.

…and what kind of plan could Azula have that needed to keep the Avatar alive? Or the rest of the team. Azula could have attacked any of them while they were distracted by Izumi and Kenshin, but she hadn’t. She’d just vanished.

Zuko had no idea what to make of it.

 

—————

 

Katara tried to eat, but the rice felt like paste in her mouth. She tried to breathe, but the pain in her chest remained sharp, no matter what she did. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. She didn’t deserve that release.

Kenshin was gone, and it was her fault.

She’d just been so frightened. So afraid that she’d have to watch her daughter suffer the same way her husband had. Terrified that the same villain that still terrorized her nightmares would take everything from her.

She’d acted without thinking, and Kenshin had paid the price for it.

She’d tried to talk to Izumi this morning. But Izumi had taken one look at her and strode off in the opposite direction, the expression on her face hard and angry.

She tugged her knees into her chest and stared down at her feet. She almost didn’t notice Suki approaching until she was sitting down next to her.

“Hey,” Suki said.

“Hey,” Katara returned.

She reached for the bending water in her flask, reaching for Suki’s arm.

“Oh,” Suki said, “no, I’m not here for healing. Izumi took care of me yesterday.”

“…oh,” Katara said, returning her water to its flask.

She couldn’t think of any other reason that Suki would be here right now.

Suki bit her lip, “are you ok?”

Katara broke. She couldn’t breathe. Her chest hurt. Her throat tightened. The sound that escaped her was not so much a sob as it was a cry like she’d been stabbed.

Suki pulled Katara into her and held her tight as she fought to breathe.

“I’ll never forgive myself,” were the first words Katara managed to speak aloud.

For being the reason Kenshin fell. For not trusting Izumi enough to let her catch Azula’s lightning.

“Bad news,” Suki said. “You’re going to have to.”

Katara choked on another sob, “How?”

Suki’s chest shook as she took another breath, “you do better next time. You refuse to make the same mistake again.”

Katara shook her head.

“Do you seriously think you’re the only one of us who's ever been the reason we lost a teammate?” Suki asked, her voice low and oddly toneless. “You keep going. You grieve. And you keep fighting this fucking war.”

This fucking war. This fucking endless war.

“We’re going to need you tomorrow,” Suki added. “You know that.”

It would all be over tomorrow, one way or another. Katara had seen the plans and knew there was no room to hedge their bets. The board was set. Once they committed, once the dice were cast, there would be no retreating. No escaping.

One way or another, it would all end.

And that thought gave Katara the strength to lift her head.

 

——————

 

Izumi was meant to be out terrorizing the army again. She was meant to be out causing trouble. Harrying the local soldiers and wearing them down. The uprising was tomorrow and today would be her last chance.

Instead, she huddled in a forgotten corner of the old warehouse, tucked into a tiny space between stacks of empty shipping crates, her back to the wall, her knees against her chest.

Izumi couldn’t breathe. Tears flooded her vision. The knot in her throat threatened to choke her. She’d hidden herself away so she could let these emotions out. She couldn’t let the rebellion see their Avatar absolutely losing her shit the day before the uprising.

Kenshin had died in her arms. He’d died in her arms because her mom didn’t trust her to be able to defend herself.

What was she capable of, if she wasn’t even capable of that?

She felt footsteps outside the room. She sucked in a deep breath and held it. It was the only way she could be sure of staying silent and being left alone.

She heard the door creak open anyway.

“Izumi?”

It was Suzu. Silence didn’t do any good when the person looking for you could sense your heartbeat.

Izumi let her breath out in a rush, “in here.”

Her voice shook traitorously. She brushed hard at her eyes as Suzu approached. Suzu huffed a tiny, amused little laugh as she found Izumi wedged between the two crates. She squeezed herself in place too, kneeling in front of Izumi since there wasn’t enough room to sit side by side.

And she threw her arms around Izumi’s neck. Izumi wrapped her own around Suzu and buried her face in her shoulder. Izumi cried, and Suzu ran her hand over her back.

“He died right in front of me, Su,” Izumi choked out. “I felt it happen. And I couldn’t stop it.”

Suzu cried too. Izumi could feel her shoulders shaking.

“I’m so sorry,” Suzu said.

“I can’t…” Izumi gasped. “I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough.”

“Izumi…”

Suzu put both her hands on either side of Izumi’s face, cradling her cheeks gently in her palms and brushing her tears away with her thumbs.

“You can,” Suzu said. “I know you can. We are going to end this fucking war and everyone will finally be safe. We’ll make it safe. We can do this. You can do this.”

Suzu but her lip. She looked down.

“I want that world,” Suzu said. “I want that world. I don’t want to have to worry about you anymore. Or my friends. Or my family. I want to see what a safe world looks like. And…I want that world to have you in it. With me.”

She looked back up at Izumi, her warm brown eyes bright with tears and with something like hope.

“I want that,” Izumi said. “I want you to have that.”

“So we’ll do it,” Suzu said. “Together.”

Suzu pulled her close and kissed her, hard and desperate. Izumi reached back, her hand tangling in the long tresses of Suzu’s hair. They kissed until Izumi couldn’t breathe.

She pressed her lips to Suzu’s cheeks. Tasted the remnants of her tears there.

They clung to one another. The fight of their lives, the battle that would decide whether they won or died, was happening tomorrow. Who knew how many more chances they would have to hold one another like this.

Izumi held to Suzu for as long as she could.

But…she had one more person she needed to talk to before the day ended.

 

——————

 

It was Suki who called him to task.

Zuko was mid-conversation with Toph when Suki stormed up to him and smacked him, light but insistent, on the back of the head.

“She needs you,” Suki said. “Stop being a little bitch and go help her.”

Zuko’s face reddened, but he knew she was right. He nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks.”

“You’re fucking welcome Pout-Face,” Suki grumbled.

Toph cackled. Zuko sighed. He still couldn’t believe that that was the nickname that had stuck.

Suki stared at him, arms crossed over her chest, until he left to find Katara.

He found her working. She was helping serve up the evening meal. He simply joined the line, and when he stopped in front of her, she put a bowl in his hands before she even looked up and realized it was him.

She froze, her eyes a little nervous. He’d been avoiding her all day, and his guilt twisted in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Tears welled in her eyes. Her breath hitched. He reached for her cheek and she leaned into his touch.

He was holding up the line. Katara brushed at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I…I have to finish this…” she started to say.

But another rebel stepped up beside her and took her place. Zuko and Katara stepped out of the way. Zuko left the bowl she’d just given him behind so he could wrap both arms around Katara.

She clung to him, hiding her face against his chest. He ran his hand over her hair, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “You needed me and I ran away.”

She held him, somehow, a little tighter.

“It’s ok,” she said, voice muffled, “I deserved it.”

“No. Katara…” Zuko put one hand on the back of her head. “You made a mistake. And I let you face it alone.”

“A mistake,” Katara growled. “A mistake that killed Kenshin.”

She began to cry again, heavily this time. Zuko held her, tears welling in his own eyes.

Kenshin was gone. Kenshin who’d helped them escape from Caldera. Kenshin who’d fought at their side on dozens of missions. Kenshin who’d helped train Izumi.

For a long moment, they just held each other and cried, grieving for their friend.

At long last, Katara picked up her head, drying her eyes. Zuko took her face gently in both hands. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you,” he said. “And we made a promise. Whatever happens, we would love each other. And I… I’m so sorry I made you face this alone.”

She kissed him, hard and firm and a little desperate. He left his forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I…I love you so much.”

She took a shuddering breath and began to cry again, and Zuko folded her against his chest. He would hold her for as long as she needed. He would hold her until the end of the world if he could.

And tomorrow, they would fight side by side trying to save it.

But he had one more question to ask.

“…Have you talked to Izumi?” He asked.

Katara winced. She shook her head.

“She’s been avoiding me,” Katara said. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

She picked up her head. Dried her eyes.

“I feel like it would just make things worse,” Katara said. “I want to tell her I’m sorry, and-”

Her voice broke a little bit. She cleared her throat.

“She’s just going to be angry,” she said. “I don’t know if it will help. It’s…it’s just going to make me feel worse.”

“Katara,” Zuko took her hands lovingly but firmly in one his own. With the other, he brushed a tear from her cheek, “It’s not Izumi’s job to make you feel better about what happened. Tell her you’re sorry.”

Katara took a deep breath. And she nodded.

 

——————

 

Izumi found a quiet corner of the warehouse again. Truly alone this time. Suzu understood what she was about to do and offered to make sure she wasn’t disturbed.

Izumi folded her legs into a perfect half lotus. She pressed her hands together in front of her. She closed her eyes and breathed.

It was harder, when she wasn’t in her alcove back at the air temple. She wondered, momentarily, where the most spiritual places might be inside the Fire Nation. But then she slipped from one world to the other with the ease of continual practice.

Aang was waiting for her.

“Aang!” Izumi burst out.

She ran to him. He met her in a firm embrace.

“I thought you might want to talk tonight,” Aang said. “I did. The day before.”

It all hit her at once. She was facing the Fire Lord tomorrow. Terror choked her and she sat down hard in the grass.

“Avatar Aang,” she said, “I…I’m afraid.”

He sat down in front of her, holding out his hands. She put hers in his, her breath shaking.

“I know,” he said. “I know how it feels.”

“I’m not ready,” Izumi said. “And if I fail, then all of this will be for nothing.”

“All of this?” Aang asked.

“Everything,” Izumi said. She tugged her hands free so she could dry her eyes. “Everything the rebellion has done. All my training. Everything everyone has done to help me become who I am. What if it isn’t enough? What if I fail?”

Avatar Aang looked down at his hands.

“I’m the wrong person to ask about that,” he said. “Because I did fail. It’s because of me that you’re even here right now. I let everyone down.”

Izumi swallowed hard.

“And then I…” Aang looked up at her. “I waited for you. So I could help you do what I couldn’t.”

Izumi shook her head, “the world doesn’t have time to wait out another Avatar cycle. There won’t be any world left to save.”

“Which is why you’re not going to fail,” Aang said.

“But-”

“You won’t,” Aang pressed. “You’re ready. I had to learn three elements in just a year before I had to face the Fire Lord. You’ve had a whole lifetime. You’re stronger than I was.”

“My airbending is shit,” Izumi grumbled.

“Still the best airbender in the world though,” Aang said with a wry smile.

It wasn’t really funny, but Izumi huffed a laugh anyway.

“And you have the Avatar state,” Aang added. “You have so many things that I never had. You can do this, Izumi.”

Aang just looked at her for a long moment, and she looked back. It was always strange, seeing him again. She had grown but he hadn’t. He was frozen at eighteen while she stretched on toward twenty. She would eclipse him entirely before long.

Provided she survived tomorrow’s fight.

Aang’s expression softened a little bit, and Izumi got the distinct impression that he was thinking about something entirely different than her imminent battle with the Fire Lord.

“What is it?” She asked.

Aang smiled sadly, “your eyes look just like Katara’s.”

Izumi smiled a little at that, “waterbender eyes.”

“Yeah.”

Aang was silent again for a long moment.

“The woman you told me about,” Izumi ventured, “when you told me about your trouble with the Avatar state. The one you loved? It was my mom. Wasn’t it.”

Aang hesitated. Then he nodded. Izumi let out a long breath.

“Is she happy?” Aang asked quietly.

Izumi found herself entirely unable to answer that question.

“I don’t know,” she said, because it was easier than trying to parse the full truth.

Aang’s face fell.

“Not because of you,” Izumi rushed to assure him. “…Because of me.”

Aang’s expression remained sad, but it tilted towards pity.

“That cannot be true,” he said.

“It is,” Izumi said, her emotions welling up again. “She never wanted me to be the Avatar. She still hates it. Sometimes I think all of them, Mom, Dad, Auntie Toph, Uncle Sokka… they look at me but all they see is you.”

Izumi had to stop and clear her throat.

“I know you feel like you failed them,” she said, “but… I think they all feel like they failed you. Like they sent you off to die.”

“They didn’t,” Aang said, sounding a little desperate. “They did everything they could.”

“I know,” Izumi said. “But I think they look at me and they get scared that they’ll fail me too. And they forget that I’m the Avatar. That this is my destiny. They forget what I can do.”

And Aang smiled at her.

“What can you do, Avatar Izumi?” He prompted gently.

Izumi took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands together at the knuckles. She could feel Aang sitting across from her, the glow of his spirit radiating like a heartbeat. And if she reached a little further, she could feel the quiet hum of every single one of their past lives. A long line of power and connection stretching back across the ages and pouring into her.

She opened her eyes. She was no longer in the spirit world. The tattoos on the back of her hands glowed a soft blue.

She whispered to herself, “I can end the war.”

 

——————

 

Sokka held Suki’s hand in his as he paged through his notes again. He was certain there were still things he was missing. This plan, this last, insane plan, was the line between victory and defeat. He wouldn’t stop reviewing it until he knew it was perfect.

Sokka blinked and rubbed a hand over his eyes. The low light was giving him a headache.

Suki picked up his hand and pressed it to her lips. He turned to her, and she reached up to stroke his cheek with her thumb.

She pulled him toward her and he met her lips with his.

Sokka put his head down on her shoulder. She put her arm around him and kissed the top of his head. Sokka closed his eyes, plans forgotten on the tabletop.

They’d never have made it this far without Suki. Sure, Sokka was the one with the ideas. The one the rebellion looked to for their tactics. But without Suki, all of Sokka’s imaginings would have remained mere half-baked plans. She was the one who found the holes in his strategies and patched them. She was the one who knew how to take his craziest ideas and translate them until they were actionable.

She was the one who believed in him, when he couldn’t believe in himself.

Suki tipped her head so it rested against his.

“Take me through it again,” she said softly.

Sokka took a deep breath and picked up his head, reaching for his notebook.

The door burst open, admitting Izumi. The kid had a fierce look on her face and a tightness in her jaw that Sokka found all too familiar.

“Izumi,” he said, sitting up straight.

“I know what I want to do,” she said. “I know what I need to face the Fire Lord.”

Sokka met Izumi’s eyes. Saw the determination there.

Spirits. She looked like a soldier.

He opened his notebook to the proper page and turned it toward her.

“All right,” he said. “Take me through it.”

 

.

Chapter 25: Book 3 - Part 7

Notes:

Ok friends. It’s showtime.

There are three chapters left in this fic (including this one) and all three of them are written. I’m still editing them, but it is my intention to post this one today, the second one tomorrow, and the closing chapter on Sunday. The story kind of avalanches from here, so we’re making it a finale weekend instead of dragging it out. I think we’ll all be happier for it.

Ready?

Let’s go.

Year 20, Day 148

 

Dawn rose over Caldera, unknowing and unexpecting.

The warehouse crawled with motion. Warriors readying their weapons. Firebenders measuring out their breaths as the sun came up.

Zuko felt the sun rise, as he always did. He filled his lungs and tried to still the racing of his heart.

He stepped up beside his daughter.

For the day of the uprising, Izumi had chosen water tribe clothing. Tight leggings, a blue tunic. Wraps on her forearms and lower legs to protect them. Feet bare. A water flask at her hip. Her swords across her back. Southern Water Tribe war paint. A Fire Nation top knot.

Zuko wore black. The uniform of the Blue Spirit. But his mask was tied to his back with his swords. Today was not a day to hide his face.

He took a deep breath.

“Are you ready?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said, immediately.

Confident. Immovable. Pride rose in his chest.

“Whatever happens today,” he said. Cleared his throat, “I want you to know that I’m proud of you.”

She looked at him, looking, just for a moment, very young.

“Dad…” she said.

“I’m proud of you,” he repeated. “You can do this. This is your fight as much as any of ours. We could only lead you so far. I trust you. And I’m… so proud of you.”

He was repeating himself. He felt a little ridiculous. But she threw her arms around him. He held her tightly.

They were headed to different battlefields. But they would meet when it was all over. Zuko would see her in the palace when the Fire Lord was dead.

He released her, keeping one hand on her shoulder.

“Good luck,” he said.

Izumi nodded to him, “You too.”

 

—————

 

Sokka watched the skies.

He looked up from sharpening his sword. Meteorite. Made for him by Piandao with the material left over from the meteor that Sokka had delivered to the sword master the summer before Sozin’s Comet. It wasn’t the weapon Sokka had made for himself. That one had been lost decades ago. But this one had served him well in the years since.

Watching the skies, he saw the first hawks come in.They flew toward the palace, cutting through the sky with messages on their backs.

The uprising was beginning.

The outer cities and colonized holdings had orders to move before first light. Caldera would wake to news of rebellion. The Fire Lord would rise to dozens of reports, all of them of cities in revolt.

And then, once his war council was in a panic, his own city would rise against him.

Sokka rose. He tested the motion of his knees. Pivoted on his metal leg to make sure it was secure.

The first groups of warriors began to filter out into the city.

 

—————

 

Izumi rewrapped her forearms again. The wrappings were fine, but they could be better. More secure.

“Can I help?”

Izumi turned.

It was her mom.

Izumi’s chest went tight. Mom looked at her with a tense, sad expression.

She was dressed to fight, just as Izumi was. She’d be heading out into the city any minute. Katara would be on a different battlefield than Izumi would. That had been the first thing she’d requested from Uncle Sokka the night before. She and her mother couldn’t be allowed to fight near each other. Her mother couldn’t be trusted to keep her head when they were on the same field.

Uncle Sokka had agreed with her.

But Izumi swallowed hard and held her arm out toward her mom. Katara tightened the wraps and tied them off neatly. Perfectly.

They looked at each other. Despite her anger, or maybe because of it, Izumi felt herself on the edge of tears.

“Izumi…” her mom spoke, “Izumi, I’m so sorry.”

Her tears broke. Izumi squeezed her eyes tightly shut and bowed her head. Katara’s arms wrapped around her, hard and tight, and Izumi let her. She let herself be held.

“I’m so sorry,” Katara said again. “I…I love you so much Izumi. I’m so sorry.”

Her mother stroked the back of her head, in a way Izumi couldn’t remember her doing since she was a child.

It made her feel babied again. She picked up her head. She stepped back.

Mom looked at her with that same aching expression, “Take care of yourself out there, sweetheart.”

Anything could happen today. The fear that Izumi had been fighting back since before sunrise suddenly built in her chest.

Izumi swallowed hard and took a deep breath, “I will. I can do this.”

Mom gave her a tight, tiny smile, “I…I know. I know you can.”

And through the soles of her bare feet, Izumi could feel that her mother was telling the truth.

Her next breath shook a little. Izumi wasn’t sure she could forgive her mother just yet, for everything her doubt had cost them. But this was a start. There was a spark of warmth in her chest that felt like hope.

Mom held her arms out to her again, inviting, and Izumi stepped into them. She squeezed her mother tight for one moment, and then stepped back, tears pressing at her eyes again.

“Be safe,” Mom said.

Izumi met her mother’s gaze and nodded, “you too.”

 

——————

 

Katara marched out into the city, shoulder to shoulder with Zuko, with a knot of warriors at their back. They didn’t bother with stealth. They strode down the center of the streets with purpose. Anger, determination, and anxiety warring for dominance in her heart.

She wore her spirit mask, but Zuko showed his face.

They met a single guard patrol on the way. The pair of soldiers bravely squared up in front of them.

Katara snatched one with a water whip around his ankle, dropping him on his face. Zuko attacked the other. Both scrambled back and fled.

The crowd at their back grew with every turn. Civilians joined the rivers of rebels in the streets, far more than had been housed at the rebellion’s hideouts. Some wore spirit masks. Some did not. Some carried weapons. Some brought improvised items from their homes. Many were almost certainly firebenders.

The citizens of Caldera itself were done living under the Phoenix King.

The soldiers were ready for them when they arrived, lined up in ranks in front of their post, ready to hold it.

The rebellion lined up opposite them.

The soldiers were outnumbered.

Zuko stepped forward. Katara wrapped her bending water around her arms. Behind her, an entire army waited, tense and coiled to fight.

And Zuko, eyes fiery, the mask of the Blue Spirit slung across his back, shouted and rushed the front line.

 

—————

 

Caldera was in chaos.

Izumi could hear it as battles began all across the city. Warriors from the cells of the rebellion attacked guard posts in every possible neighborhood, overwhelming each outpost, preventing them from supporting each other or retreating to defend the palace.

Cries rose down an alleyway to her left. Her head snapped in their direction and she lunged, instinctively.

“Hold,” Uncle Sokka said to her again.

Izumi steadied her breath and refocused. No matter what she saw or heard on the streets, no matter where the lines held or faltered, she had her own mission today.

Uncle Sokka led the charge toward the palace, the point of a deadly wedge, flanked by Aunt Suki and Auntie Ty, and Auntie Toph and Suzu.

They met resistance just before the palace gates.

The line parted before her and Izumi rushed through. The Avatar spirit pulsed in her chest, and she grasped at it. Her eyes flashed white. Her tattoos burst with light. She leapt.

Izumi tore into the first line of soldiers.

Water fanned out around her, freezing into vicious points. Most of them broke against the soldiers’ armor, but a few pierced through, and many staggered. Fire followed. She threw punches and kicks against the enemies that were most unbalanced, scattering them, sending them scrambling away.

As they retreated, they met the others who flanked her. They fled from her and were met with swords and staffs and fire and earth.

Izumi spun again, calling her water back to her and whipping it out against the soldiers that remained standing. They countered with fire, and Izumi leapt and dodged. She landed firmly and shoved them away with a wall of earth, straight towards her companions, who dropped them.

Suddenly there was a clear path to the gate.

 

—————

 

The path to the gate was clear.

“Suzu!” Toph called.

The girl turned. She shoved her latest opponent away, tipping him onto his back as she spun and sprinted for the gate with Toph.

The gate was a massive metal behemoth. Impenetrable.

Unless you were a metalbender.

Toph braced her hands against the gate, just to the side of the seam where it latched closed at the center. Suzu copied her posture on the opposite side.

She felt their comrades shifting to cover their backs. Sokka and Suki and Ty Lee and Izumi. Izumi held them at bay with simultaneous arcs of water and flame.

Toph focused on the metal under her hands. Metal was only earth.

Thick, obstinate, earth. But only earth.

It gave under her hands. The metal folded and peeled back. The wrenching groan it gave echoed as Suzu tore her own corner of the doorway clear.

Toph pressed her hands back to the wreckage, seeking the locking mechanism.

She found it.

She tore it apart.

 

——————

 

A sea of soldiers waited on the other side of the gate.

Suki threw her fan and caught the center soldier in the neck. He dropped, strangling.

The line broke.

“Down!” Came the call behind her.

Suki dropped. Izumi sailed over her head, propelled by a burst of airbending. The kid, their Cricket, landed behind the line of enemies, which buckled around her.

“To Izumi!” Suki bellowed. “Don’t let her get surrounded!”

She yanked her fan from the fallen soldier’s throat and pressed into the charge.

She wore her Kyoshi warrior paint today, and she dragged her sword into her hand and gutted the first soldier who rushed in to take her out. She roared and fought her way toward Izumi, leaving a trail of downed enemies in her wake.

Heavy booted footfalls sounded behind them.

Suki spun. Soldiers poured in through the ravaged gates, called back from the city to defend the palace.

“Toph!” Suki shouted. “Suzu!”

The two earthbenders redirected their attacks. They held their ground in front of the gap in the gate, meeting every soldier that appeared with hurled rocks and vicious attacks from below, the very earth under the soldiers’ feet betraying them.

Suzu fought with her eyes closed, trusting her seismic sense more than she did her eyes.

Suki tore back across the courtyard, following Izumi, Sokka, and Ty Lee as they vanished into the palace.

 

——————

 

They took the outpost. These rebels, these civilians, they took the outpost and they held.

Zuko climbed to the roof, slipping out of the second story window and hauling himself up. He scanned the streets in all directions, looking for the arrival of reinforcements. There were none. They were holding their own posts, or defending the palace.

Rebels on the ground spotted him on the rooftop and cheered in triumph. He looked down at them, at this sea of spirit-masked faces. Common people turned soldiers. Brave souls who risked everything to help set the world right.

Zuko pulled one of his swords from his back and lifted it toward the sky.

His people roared.

He slipped back down into the building the way he had come. He found Katara on the ground floor, healing a few of their wounded. He waited until she rose to catch her attention.

“They’ll hold,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She nodded to him.

It was time for their second mission.

Zuko and Katara slipped away from the outpost and crept through the streets in the direction of the palace.

 

——————

 

It was eerie, being back in the palace.

Ty Lee sprinted down the halls with Sokka, Suki, and Izumi. Of all the members of the rebellion, excepting only Zuko, Ty Lee was the one who knew the palace best. She’d grown up coming in and out of this place constantly.

Where would the Fire Lord have gone, when he realized his city was under attack? Would he have retreated to his bunker deep within the tunnels?

She doubted it. He’d only do that if he felt defenseless. Like he had on the Day of the Black Sun. Today, an ordinary day, the Phoenix King would be too proud and overconfident to retreat.

The self important bastard. Calling himself the Phoenix King. As if he’d ever had ashes to rise from that didn’t belong to something he’d destroyed.

“This way!” Ty Lee called, taking a hard left toward the Fire Lord’s throne room.

How many times had she hidden outside this room with Azula, trying to eavesdrop?

And where was Azula? They should have run into her by now.

They rounded the corner.

The door was blocked by soldiers.

Ty Lee dove. She skirted their flames as she sprang off her hands and struck out at the first soldier’s side, sharp and fast. The man’s limbs folded underneath him. She ducked, sweeping the next’s legs and kicking the back of his knee. He crumpled. A hard sharp stab of her hands dropped him.

There was a ring of metal on metal and Sokka went down with a shocked cry.

Ty Lee growled in the back of her throat and threw herself at one of the final soldiers. Izumi appeared at her side, sliding under the soldier’s attack and coming up next to her. Back to back with Izumi, Ty Lee lashed out with all her strength and speed.

And the hall was quiet, bodies scattered on the ground around them.

Suki was pulling Sokka to his feet.

“Uncle!” Izumi gasped, eyes wide, “Are you ok?”

Sokka beamed, shifting his prosthetic, “they got my decoy leg.”

Ty Lee grinned.

Sokka threw his shoulder at the wooden door.

 

——————

 

The door gave as Sokka shouldered his way through it.

More soldiers rushed them. Sokka raised his sword, meeting his opponent’s weapon with his own. He ducked the man’s next strike, spun away, and caught the back of the man’s leg on his backswing.

Suki, Ty Lee, and Izumi swept into the room around him.

There were so many soldiers. He couldn't even see the other side of the room.

Sokka raised his sword, shouted, and punched his way through.

He leapt up onto the low table, scrambling to deflect attacks from all sides. A heavy blow landed across the back of his shoulders. His armor held, but his knees buckled.

Izumi tackled the man. He tumbled away and Izumi rolled, leaping back to her feet and joining him on the table. She pressed her back to his and forced their enemies back with sharp, brutal firebending.

And Sokka spotted a lone figure retreating through the back of the room.

He ripped his boomerang from his back and threw it.

Boomerang struck true, knocking into the retreating figure’s helmet. The escapee stumbled, tearing the damaged helmet from his head.

It was the Fire Lord.

“Izumi!” Sokka shouted. “At the back!”

Sokka charged, leaping off the table as a line of soldiers rushed to cut them off. Izumi caught and deflected their flames. Sokka darted around her and dropped them one by one.

The Fire Lord vanished through a hidden door behind the thrones.

“Go!” Sokka shouted. “Izumi! Go!”

She spun, and tore off after Fire Lord Ozai.

Sokka turned back to hold the line.

 

.

Chapter 26: Book 3 - Part 8

Year 20, Day 148 (continued)

 

Zuko and Katara stole right into the Fire Lord’s palace using the exact tunnels they’d used to escape it twenty years before.

It was mostly guesswork, trying to decide where the royal family was most likely to hide their young prince during a violent uprising. But Zuko knew this palace. He knew its hiding places and its passageways.

And no matter what else happened, that boy -Prince Ichiro, Zuko’s nephew- was not going to be inside this palace when it fell.

He found the access point he was looking for. If he’d remembered correctly, they were beneath the guest wing of the palace. He found the mechanism he was looking for and threw it. Above their heads, a metal panel slid back.

Debris fell through the empty space. It smashed the rickety ladder beneath the trapdoor to pieces.

Zuko braced both hands under one of Katara’s feet and threw her upward. Her hands closed around the lip of the panel and she hauled herself up. She reached a hand back to him and he leapt to catch it. She pulled and his hand found purchase. She hauled him up after her.

He squeezed her hand, once, very tightly, before he let go. He pulled his Blue Spirit mask down over his face.

It was uncomfortably quiet, this deep inside the palace. Disconcertingly empty. Their ragged breathing and their footfalls seemed impossibly loud in the barren hallways. They were dusty. Stacked with detritus and debris.

No one had used this wing of the palace in a very long time.

Zuko led the way toward the wing that held the royal family’s quarters.

He burst through the first set of doors, stumbling into a room packed with…

Servants. Palace staff who shrieked and cowered back against the walls.

He lowered his hands.

“The Prince,” Zuko said. “Where is Prince Ichiro?”

None of them spoke. At the back of the room, someone whimpered.

“Zuko,” Katara said, her voice low and sharp.

He lifted his mask from his face.

At his right, someone gave a cry. He spun, hands rising, ready to defend, but the figure, an older woman, was looking at him in something like disbelief. Something like joy.

“Prince Zuko,” the woman gasped.

Her gasp was echoed by others around the room. Others whispered his name.

The woman dropped to her knees. Zuko noticed, truly noticed, how thin and frail she looked. The gaunt shadows under her eyes and the threadbare robes that covered her shoulders.

He…he thought he recognized her. Between the haze of his youth in the palace and the passage of twenty years, he couldn’t recall her name, but he knew her face.

“It’s true,” she breathed. “You’re here. You’ve come back.”

Zuko, Blue Spirit mask in one hand, held the other out to the woman and helped her to her feet.

“Prince Ichiro,” he asked again. “Where is he?”

The woman hesitated, her eyes nervous.

“We’re here to protect him,” Zuko said. “We need to get him away from the Fire Lord.”

The woman took a shuddering breath. She nodded.

“The living quarters,” she said, hushed and frantic. “The quarters that… that used to be yours, my Prince. Please get him out of here.”

Zuko nodded to her, “Thank you.”

He nodded to Katara, pulled his mask back into place, and they burst back into the halls.

Knowing exactly where they were headed, Zuko sprinted ahead, Katara rushing to keep up.

“Hey! Halt!”

A set of guards leapt into motion as he sprinted past them. But that meant they put their backs to Katara, who tripped one and threw her knife at the other. Drawn by the scuffle, two more appeared at the end of the hall.

“Keep going!” Katara called. “I’ve got them.”

He trusted her. He did as she said.

Zuko threw himself down the hall. He skidded to a halt in front of the double doors that led to the rooms he’d had grown up in.

He kicked the door down.

Inside, four soldiers surrounded a young boy, ten years old, with golden hazel eyes and shining black hair. The boy leapt to his feet.

The four firebenders attacked. Zuko struck back hard. And Ichiro… the boy held his ground even as Zuko dropped the guards that surrounded him. Zuko, breathing hard into his mask, held up his hands.

“Prince Ichiro,” he said. “Come with me. We have to get you somewhere safe.”

The boy attacked.

Zuko rushed to defend. He deflected Ichiro’s attacks away one by one.

Agni. He was good.

“Ichiro,” he tried again as the boy wound up for a kick.

Zuko ducked, the flame passing harmlessly over his head.

The door crashed open behind him. Zuko spun.

It was Azula.

Zuko’s heart seized in his chest.

She yelled and threw herself at him.

He parted her first vicious blast of flame, striking back quickly. She danced away from him, dodging and deflecting his blows but not returning them, as if she was drawing him away. Distracting him.

Zuko growled and attacked her again. She sprang over the line of his fire, twisting and landing lightly. Inadvertently, Zuko’s attack traveled toward Ichiro. He immediately snuffed out the flame, but Azula roared and rushed him, forcing him back toward the open doorway.

“You will not touch my son!” She shouted.

Startled, Zuko hesitated.

Azula’s next attack almost caught him. He dove to avoid her hot blue flames, rolling awkwardly. But instead of finishing him off, Azula sprinted for Ichiro.

“Mom!” the boy called.

Azula pressed a soft hand to the boy’s cheek for just an instant, then squared up to face Zuko again, shielding him with her own body.

“You will not. Touch. My son!” She snarled at him.

She didn’t attack him further. She defended. She stared him down with her stance wide and her hands spread, flames licking at her fingertips. Eyes narrowed. Unblinking. Even as he scrambled to his feet, she didn’t move in on him. She just shifted to cover the young prince more thoroughly from his line of sight.

“Azula…” Zuko breathed, astonished.

Who was this woman who showed so much selflessness, and what had she done with his sister?

He tore the mask off his face.

Azula’s eyes went wide, disbelieving.

“…Zuko?” she said.

“Azula,” he said, hands extended in front of him in a gesture of surrender, “I’m not here to hurt him. We want him to be safe.”

She looked at him like she didn’t quite believe he was real.

Zuko was still afraid that this was a trap. That Azula was waiting for him to let his guard down. But if that was what she wanted, she would have killed him while he was stuck on the ground instead of running to her son.

“…You’ll get him out?” Azula asked.

The flames in her hands vanished. She reached for Ichiro instead. Her hand cradled the back of her son’s head. The boy tucked himself a little closer to her side.

“Mom…” Ichiro said again.

Zuko nodded, “yes. I swear it.”

Azula stared at him, chest heaving with her breaths.

She chose to trust him.

She knelt down in front of Ichiro. She took his shoulders in both hands.

“Ichiro. I need you to go with him,” Azula said.

Ichiro’s eyes darted to Zuko, then back to Azula.

“It’s ok,” Azula said. “That’s your Uncle Zuko. He’s going to get you out of the palace.”

Ichiro looked over at him again, still nervous. Zuko could barely breathe.

“Go on, ‘Chiro,” Azula pressed. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Promise?” Ichiro asked.

“…I promise,” Azula said.

Ichiro threw his arms around her. Azula held him, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Then she let him go.

Azula rose and looked to Zuko, “Go. I’ll cover your retreat.”

Zuko nodded. He held a hand out to his nephew, who, with one more look at Azula, took it.

“Keep him safe,” Azula demanded.

Zuko nodded again. He would get this boy away from their father or die trying.

“Go!” Azula shouted.

Zuko tugged Ichiro after him and they fled.

 

——————

 

Izumi raced through the halls of the Fire Nation palace, chasing the retreating figure of the Fire Lord.

If he was so fucking powerful, why wouldn’t he turn and face her?

But even as she thought it, she burst out the palace and into a wide courtyard, and found him waiting for her.

The Fire Lord shed his outer robe, letting it pool at his feet. A cut on his face, from the damaged helmet he’d left behind in the throne room, wept blood down his cheek. He spread his arms like he was welcoming her to a feast.

He looked altogether too calm.

“Avatar Izumi,” he said, his voice a low growl that made her skin crawl.

“Grandfather,” she spat at him.

He laughed.

“So it’s true then, what they’ve been saying,” the Fire Lord mused. “My useless traitor of a son managed some luck at last. Sullied our line with waterbender stock and got the Avatar in exchange. And then sent her to do what he couldn’t do himself. Again.”

Fire rose at Izumi’s fingertips.

“Did he tell you about the day he forsook us?” The Fire Lord went on. “About the day he came to speak his mind? Did he tell you that he waited until an eclipse before he confronted me? Did he tell you that even then he couldn’t truly challenge me? How he said it was the Avatar’s destiny? Weakness. Every scrap of him, nothing but weakness.”

He gave a sharp, mocking laugh.

He’d crept a few steps closer, and she realized she’d let him.

“But you are Fire Nation royalty, by blood,” the Fire Lord said. “Why don’t we do this as firebenders should, granddaughter.”

His eyes narrowed.

“An Agni Kai,” he said.

“Not a chance,” Izumi spat.

It was a ploy. One she’d been warned about. An Agni Kai would guarantee a one-on-one fight, but it would also force Izumi to set aside her other three elements. And even that guarantee was assuming that the Fire Lord decided to fight honorably. Which she did not trust him to do.

She breathed, preparing to leap.

“A shame then, that you are outnumbered.”

The Fire Lord’s sly retort halted her in her tracks.

A cruel smile pulled at the man’s lips, “Isn’t that right, Azula?”

Izumi spun back. Azula waited, poised to fight, in the archway behind her.

Terror choked Izumi.

And the moment her back was turned, the Fire Lord attacked.

Izumi leapt out of the way of the barrage of flames, just barely avoiding them. She scrambled to retaliate, but couldn’t strike back without putting her back to Azula. She dodged away, trying to get clear.

Gasping for breath, Izumi risked a glance toward Azula. Their eyes met across the courtyard.

Azula dropped into that familiar stance, lightning rising at her fingertips.

Izumi panicked. She wasn’t grounded. She couldn’t stay still long enough to catch and redirect Azula’s lightning while also avoiding the Fire Lord’s attacks.

Izumi screamed in defiance.

 

Azula leveled her hand at the Fire Lord.

 

Lightning leapt from Azula’s outstretched hand and tore across the courtyard. The Fire Lord dodged, rolled awkwardly, and scrambled to his feet. His face twisted in rage.

“Azula!” he bellowed.

The Fire Lord raged at Azula, at his daughter, with impossible vitriol. He screamed obscenities and insults. He threatened her. Threatened her son, the young prince.

Izumi, still fighting for breath, understood.

Azula had never been the monster. Not really. This man was the monster.

And Azula, jaw set, face unreadable, stepped up next to Izumi. Settled into her stance. Raised her hands.

“Together,” Azula said.

Izumi nodded.

Izumi leapt, leading with water. Next to her, Azula attacked with sharp blue flames. They fanned out in opposite directions, surrounding him. The Fire Lord pivoted toward Azula. Izumi sprang closer, diving and springing off her hands.

She landed just behind his shoulder. Before he could turn, she lashed out at his side with hands like blades, precise and sharp.

The Fire Lord growled as she sprang back, throwing herself upward with airbending to make sure she got clear.

Fire Lord Ozai swung a fist at her with an inhuman growl of rage.

 

Nothing happened.

 

She’d chi blocked his bending.

Somewhere behind her, Azula laughed.

Izumi landed lightly. The Fire Lord threw a frantic series of punches, releasing not a single spark of flame. The look in his eyes grew panicked.

Izumi took a step toward him.

The Fire Lord retreated.

He scrambled back from her, tripping in his haste. He sprawled on the stones, clawing his way clumsily back to his feet.

This wasn’t a king. This was a coward.

She flung her water at him, catching him around the ankle. He fell on his face. And she leapt, with another burst of airbending to give herself height. She rolled in the air and landed in front of the Fire Lord just as he regained his feet.

She attacked with firebending, pushing him backwards until he fell. She bent earth up over his feet and his wrists, trapping him on his back.

She leapt again, landing at his side as he struggled to break free. He raged at her, fear melding with fury in an ugly mask on his face. He kept trying to firebend, screaming as he failed.

Izumi planted one foot on his chest and drew her dao swords. She bent over him, crossing them over his neck.

He finally went still. His chest heaved with his breaths and his chin arched toward the sky.

“Do it,” he snapped. “I know your type, Avatar. I know your soft heart and your weak spirit. Your previous incarnation wouldn’t take my life, and you won’t either. You can’t.”

Izumi set her jaw, “Avatar Aang taught me that all life is sacred.”

The Fire Lord fixed her with a cruel grin.

She pressed her swords a little more firmly against his neck, and the grin vanished.

“But you’re dealing with me,” Izumi said. “And I am my own Avatar. And you’ve done far too much to far too many people.”

She looked at him. Saw the speak of fear that crossed his face.

She lifted her blades.

“But it’s not my place to take your life,” Izumi said.

The Fire Lord laughed, “I knew it! Weakness! In your blood and in your precious Avatar spirit!”

Izumi put one blade back at his throat, forcing his chin toward the sky.

“I said it’s not my place,” she snapped, her breath coming shorter in her chest. “And don’t believe for a second that I won’t do it if I have to. But it’s not my place.”

Izumi looked over at Azula.

“It’s hers.”

 

——————

 

The look of sheer, unadulterated terror that crossed her father’s face sent a wave of deep, primal satisfaction through Azula.

Avatar Izumi stepped back. She lifted her blades from Father’s throat and stepped aside. Trusting her with this, even after everything.

Azula met Izumi’s eyes (blue, waterbending eyes, though the rest of her face was such an echo of Zuko) and nodded.

Father raged. He tried again to pull himself free. Tried again to firebend. Not that it would work. Azula had seen enough chi blocking to know exactly how long her father would be incapacitated.

She stood over him, staring down at him.

She was no stranger to this. He’d made sure of that. Sometimes Azula thought causing harm was the only thing she was good at.

Father begged.

“Azula,” his voice came thin and desperate, a tone she’d never once heard from him before, “daughter… please.”

She’d imagined this moment. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t. She’d dreamt of this. Of having him at her feet. At her mercy.

She’d expected to feel angry. Vindictive. And she supposed she did, a little. Her fury at her father and everything he’d done to her and to the people she-

the people she loved, that fury was always present. A low hum in her chest.

What she felt was an eerie sense of calm.

She gathered lightning in her hands.

It could be redirected. Lightning. They’d seen Iroh and Zuko both do it.

Azula couldn’t. Neither could father.

Lightning could also be survived. She’d struck Avatar Aang in the back, half a lifetime ago beneath a city that no longer existed, and he’d lived. Zuko had taken her lightning low in his chest, nearer his gut than his vitals, and had survived.

So Azula aimed for the heart.

She didn’t miss.

 

——————

 

Izumi watched as Azula pulled lightning from the air around her. Held it there for one long, agonizing moment.

She screamed and directed all her power at the Fire Lord’s chest.

The Fire Lord cried out. A strangled cry, his back arching.

And he collapsed back. Limp. Empty eyes staring up at the sky.

The Fire Lord was dead.

Izumi fought to still the racing of her heart. She stared at Azula, who stared down at the Fire Lord. Azula’s chest heaved with her breaths. Her chin high. Defiant. Triumphant.

And then, all at once, she came apart.

Azula stumbled away from the corpse of her father, falling inelegantly as she tripped in her haste. She scrambled back across the stones, gasping for breath, eyes wide and wild. She pressed her face into her hands and gave one wrenching howl of a cry.

Izumi ran to her.

Spirits, what had she been thinking? The Fire Lord had terrorized Azula her entire life but he was still her father.

She dropped to her knees next to Azula, reaching toward her. Her hand brushed Azula’s shoulder, and the woman flinched. Izumi lifted her hands.

“Azula?” She said softly. “I…I’m sorry.”

Azula was mumbling something under her breath, muffled by her hands. Izumi shifted a little closer.

“He’s gone,” Azula mumbled. “He’s gone. It’s over. It’s done. He’s gone. It’s over. It’s over...”

“Azula,” Izumi said again, a little louder. “It’s ok. He’s gone.”

Azula lifted her head. Her breathing was still ragged and her eyes still looked like those of a frightened animal, but she looked at Izumi.

“It’s ok,” Izumi said. “He’s gone. It’s over.”

Azula took several heaving breaths.

“It’s over,” Azula echoed, gasping.

“It’s over,” Izumi said, nodding firmly. Her breath caught in her throat, “he can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”

Azula shattered.

She broke down in sobs. Izumi reached for her again and this time she didn’t pull away. Azula curled into Izumi like a child, inconsolable, crying into her chest. Shaking, heaving sobs that, even to Izumi, felt like relief.

Izumi cradled her, holding Azula’s head gently against her shoulder.

“It’s ok,” she said.

She looked over at the body of the fallen Fire Lord, teeth set, feeling vindicated. She combed Azula’s hair gently back from her face.

“You’re safe,” Izumi said. “I promise.”

Izumi tipped her head up toward the sky.

“I promise,” she said. “It’s over.”

 

.

Chapter 27: Book 3 - Part 9

Day 1

 

By the time Zuko arrived in the courtyard, Ichiro safely delivered to the edge of the palace grounds and left with Katara for protection, the Fire Lord…his father…was dead.

Zuko wasn’t sure what he expected to feel. He’d anticipated relief. Maybe a little guilt or a lingering sense of sorrow, despite everything. But looking at the Fire Lord’s lifeless body, Zuko mostly felt…tired.

He was so tired.

A few paces away, Izumi was pulling Azula to her feet.

…what the hell had happened here?

Izumi turned at the sound of his footsteps. She looked exhausted, her expression hard and a little haunted. But her face broke into a small, relieved smile when she spotted him.

“Dad,” she said, running over to him and falling into his waiting embrace.

He held her tightly. She’d done it.

Spirits, but she’d done it.

He looked over at his father’s body. Saw the wound on Ozai’s chest.

…that was a lightning wound. A lighting wound from extremely close range.

Over his daughter's shoulder, Zuko made eye contact with Azula. Reading the expression there, he suddenly guessed at what had happened. He had a thousand questions, but he put them aside for later.

He watched Azula cross back to the body of their father. She bent and tugged the ornamental hairpiece, his crown, from the mess of his hair.

Azula joined them just as he released Izumi.

She held out the crown toward him.

“Finish this,” she said.

Zuko took it.

He stormed toward the war room, flanked by both Izumi and Azula. He threw the doors wide, startling the generals who gathered around the low, map-strewn table. Zuko didn’t stop, not even as a few of those fragile men -men who hid behind their maps and their plans while foot soldiers fought their wars- rose to their feet.

The few who entertained the thought of resisting quickly changed their minds as fire surged in Azula’s hands. As Izumi’s eyes and hands flashed a brilliant white.

“Prince Zuko…?” One of the generals stammered.

Zuko threw his father’s crown down onto the table in front of them. It rattled with a ring of metal and fell still.

They stared at him.

“This is over,” he snapped at them. “Fire Lord Ozai is dead. Your cities and colonies are overrun. Recall your troops and surrender.”

He raised his chin, staring down at them in pride and defiance.

“This ends now,” he said. “All of it. This. Ends. Now.”

 

—————

 

Like an engine running out of steam, the Fire Nation army folded and retreated.

The orders they received were legitimate, ferried to soldiers from their battalion leaders, to those leaders directly from the highest generals. Confusion bled into their actions, confusion and no small sense of defeat, but they obeyed.

“Fire Lord Ozai has fallen,” the news was taken up and spread across the city. “The generals have surrendered. The new orders come directly from Fire Lord Zuko.”

Sokka's knees nearly buckled under him in relief.

But he gathered himself and went looking for Suki.

He found her overseeing the retreat of the Fire Lord’s forces back into their barracks, watching for dissenters. But when she spotted him, she abandoned her post and rushed to him.

Sokka caught her face in his hands, his forehead pressed to hers. His legs threatened to betray him again. Suki’s hands, one cradling his cheek and the other finding his chest, shook.

“You’re ok,” she breathed, astonished and relieved.

“So are you,” he echoed.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

His hands left smears of blood on her skin. Most of it wasn’t his. Suki’s clothing and armor was wrecked with it too. It was such gut-wrenchingly messy work, fighting with blades and your own hands. Benders struggled to understand that sometimes.

“We did it, Sokka,” she whispered. “We…we actually did it.”

And this time, he collapsed. Suki fell with him, her legs folding under her as they held to each other. Suki hid her face in the crook of his neck.

Sokka cried.

It was grief. It was exhaustion. It was relief.

It was done. They’d done it.

“I love you,” he breathed the moment he recovered use of his voice.

Suki didn’t speak, but he felt every ounce of her affection in the way she curled against his chest, giving a heavy sigh that sounded like finally setting down the weight of the entire world.

 

—————

 

Ty Lee rushed back through the palace, more fatigued than she could ever remember being but desperate to find Toph. She retraced her steps back toward the gate, dodging around the weaponless, retreating fire nation soldiers.

She met Suzu first. The girl was covered in dirt and sweat but in one piece, her eyes a little frantic.

“Where’s Izumi?” She asked.

“I’m not sure,” Ty Lee replied. “Try the council room. Go to the left and look for the double doors.”

The girl took off into the palace.

Ty Lee emerged into the courtyard that faced the front gates.

And found Toph ordering Fire Nation soldiers around as they retreated, like it was precisely what she was born to do.

“Move it!” Toph shouted, nudging a soldier who was lagging behind back into line with the earth under his feet. “Some of us have been kicking your asses all day, and the sooner you all leave the sooner we can fucking rest!”

Ty Lee giggled.

Toph turned to her.

She beamed.

She leapt at Ty Lee.

Ty Lee caught her. Tipped backward with the momentum. Toph caught them with her bending so they landed gently on the ground, Ty Lee on her back, with Toph against her chest.

She kissed her. She pressed her lips against Toph’s firmly. Lingering.

Toph gave a low laugh, “someone’s happy.”

“Someone just changed the world,” Ty Lee replied.

“It’s us, right?” Toph teased. “You’re talking about us?”

Ty Lee just laughed and kissed Toph again. She held Toph against her chest. She kept looking for reasons to get up, and couldn’t find any. Everything she needed, everything she could possibly want, was already in her arms.

 

—————

 

The generals were packed off into prison cells. The foot soldiers would be given the opportunity to swear loyalty to Zuko, but the generals were war criminals and would be treated as such. Izumi, backed by a contingent of rebels, saw them safely imprisoned.

Zuko stared at the crown where he’d left it on the war room table.

And that was when he realized that he was alone with Azula.

He looked up at her. She looked back at him. Today was the first time in decades that they had seen each other anywhere other than on opposite sides of a war. A war that had torn the four nations apart.

Torn their family apart too.

“I thought I’d killed you,” Azula said, her voice low and quiet.

Without meaning to, Zuko’s hand drifted toward the scar Azula had left on his chest.

“I nearly died,” he said. “Katara, she…”

He trailed off. Azula looked down at the floor for a moment, then back up at him.

“I’m… glad you’re ok,” she said.

“…thanks,” he said.

There was a long silence where they just looked at each other.

Then they both spoke at the same time.

“I’m sorry-,” Azula began.

“Agni, Azula, I’m so sorry I-”

They stopped.

“You first,” Zuko said, conceding to her.

“I’m so sorry,” Azula said. “For everything. For hurting you. For everything I did to you when we were young. I…I didn’t understand…”

She squeezed her eyes shut. She bit her lip hard.

“I understand now,” she said. “And I’m so sorry.”

Zuko took a deep breath. He felt a tight knot in his chest, one that had been there since he was a boy, start to loosen.

“I’m sorry too,” he said.

Azula scoffed a mirthless laugh, “for what?”

Zuko looked down at his feet, “For leaving you with him.”

He looked back up at her. Her chin trembled a little as she took a deep breath.

“You were the one that killed him,” Zuko said. A statement, not a question.

Azula nodded. Zuko gut twisted.

“Are…are you ok?” He asked.

Azula shook her head.

“No,” she said. “But…I think I will be. Soon.”

He took a step toward her. He put a hand, tentatively, on her arm and squeezed. Her lips tipped upward, tightly, into something that almost could have been a smile.

The door opened.

“Mom!”

Ichiro burst into the room. He tore across the polished floor and threw himself into Azula’s arms. Azula dropped to her knees and wrapped her son in an impossibly tight embrace.

“Is it true?” The boy asked, his voice bright with hope. “Grandfather’s gone?”

Azula held Ichiro a little tighter, “yes. Yes, ‘Chrio. We…we don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Ichiro buried his face in his mother’s shoulder. Azula stroked the back of the boy’s head for a long moment, just holding him. She looked up at Zuko.

“Father was right about one thing,” she said.

“…what was that?” He asked

“Love is what will get you slaughtered,” Azula said. “But…he never said anything about how it’s worth it.”

Zuko swallowed hard against the tightness that suddenly gathered in his throat.

He turned away, giving Azula and her son a moment to themselves.

And spotted Katara in the doorway.

They met in the center of the room and collided, arms wrapping around each other. Zuko put one hand on the back of her head and dropped his chin onto her shoulder. She held him so tightly he could barely breathe, but he couldn’t bring himself to step back.

She picked up her head and their lips met. He left his forehead against hers.

He searched for something to say to her. Something to convey the relief, the triumph, the hope.

In the end, he didn’t have to speak. Katara knew. She knew just like Zuko knew.

They’d done it. Against all the odds they’d actually done it.

He gave a low laugh, triumph and joy, joy he couldn’t have possibly imagined, welling up in his chest. He held Katara to him and laughed.

The world was theirs to remake.

 

—————

 

Izumi lingered in the doorway of the war room. She saw her parents clinging to one another. She saw Azula with her arms around her son. …Her aunt, with her arms around her cousin.

But she couldn’t make herself go to them. She stood in the doorway, frozen.

She turned away.

Izumi wove her way through the palace, uncertain of where she was going. People called to her, rebels celebrating their victory. Izumi returned their smiles and their triumphant gestures. Clasped proffered hands and arms and met those she recognized in embraces.

But she didn’t stop until she found herself back in the courtyard where their final confrontation had taken place. She sat down hard on the edge of the steps.

The courtyard was empty. Someone had already moved the Fire Lord’s body. And no one congregated, as if they knew what had happened here and didn’t wish to be tainted by it.

But it had happened. They’d taken Caldera, and the palace, and deposed the Fire Nation’s villainous ruler. They’d done it.

Izumi looked up at the sky.

And she laughed.

Relief, joy, excitement, satisfaction, accomplishment… all bubbled inside her and burst out as laughter. She laughed until tears welled in her eyes. This was what she’d been born to do, to reach this moment, and she’d done it.

She couldn’t say exactly when her laughs melted into sobs, but they did.

Izumi dropped her face into her hands and wept, the cries tearing out of her throat with the same fierce power that her laughter had. Her chest heaved and she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Izumi!” Someone called.

It was Suzu. The girl dropped down onto the step next to Izumi and tugged her into her arms. Izumi threw her arms around Suzu’s neck and sobbed into her shoulder.

“Izumi,” Suzu said again. “What is it? What happened? Is everyone…”

“They’re…ok,” Izumi said, forcing the words out between gasping breaths. “Everyone’s…fine.”

“Then what is it?” Suzu asked gently, her hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind Izumi’s ear. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s over,” Izumi managed. “It’s everything we ever wanted and now it’s done.”

“I know,” Suzu said, her own voice catching a little in her throat. “We did it.”

Izumi picked up her head. She forced her tears away from her eyes.

“This is what I was made to do,” she said. “…and now it’s over.”

Suzu’s hand reached for Izumi’s cheek.

“Who am I now, Su?” Izumi asked. Her breath shook, “what do I do now?”

She broke down in tears again. Suzu pulled her against her chest. She felt Suzu’s lips on the top of her head.

“Anything you want,” Suzu said. “You get to do anything you want.”

Suzu gently lifted Izumi’s chin until they were looking at one another. She had tears on her face as well, and her eyes shone in the light.

“The war is over, Izumi,” Suzu said. “It’s finally over, and this is just the beginning.”

 

——————

 

Six months later

 

Rebuilding was even harder than winning had been, but Zuko had never done more gratifying work.

They’d withdrawn the Fire Nation’s armies from the colonized regions. Disbanded as many brigades as they could. Set many of those suddenly jobless soldiers to work rebuilding. Stabilizing the Fire Nation in an attempt to draw its own people back inside their own cities. Working to repair the lands and towns and cities in the other nations that had been ravaged by the occupation.

Much of the Fire Nation’s former soldiers accepted their new roles, and new lines of work, with surprising grace and even eagerness. They were as eager as anyone else to keep their families fed and their homes maintained. And those that didn’t…well there was plenty of room in the prisons now that the prisoners of war had been released.

Early on, Zuko had combed the prisoner transcripts with Ty Lee, and they were finally able to confirm that Mai had, in fact, escaped prison with Ty Lee’s help in the early years after Sozin’s Comet. The reports recorded her disappearance, and she didn’t appear on any other records after that point. They had no way of knowing where she might have gone, but those of them who’d known Mai well, Ty Lee and Zuko and even Azula, held out hope that she might turn up in Caldera. Might seek them out once she got wind of the work they were doing here.

And it was so much work. The tasks were countless, his days a little endless, but for once, Zuko had people all over the map to work with instead of against. It was a delicate balance of resources and effort, but after everything the rebellion had done for the four nations, they trusted him.

They looked at the reigning Fire Lord and they trusted him.

Zuko would never stop being awed and grateful for that.

He looked up at the wall behind his desk, where they’d hung his Blue Spirit mask.

They had a long way to go, they wouldn’t undo one hundred and twenty years of war in just a few months, but their plans were working. Their work was making a difference. The future looked, finally, very promising.

Zuko shifted the paperwork in front of him again, searching for the report he needed.

Laughter filtered in through the open window. His study faced the palace gardens and the turtleduck pond. He’d been encouraged to find that both were still there. Even after years of oppression and revolutions, at least there would always be turtleducks.

Out in the yard by the pond, Izumi ran on the grass with Ichiro, playing a game often played by young firebenders that doubled as target practice.

It was doing Ichiro so much good, having friends in the palace. Having unfettered access to his mother. Receiving love and care not just from her, but from his Uncle Zuko and Aunt Katara too. And spending time with Izumi seemed to bring his nephew a lot of joy. Zuko smiled as he watched them, thinking about how the age difference between Ichiro and Izumi wasn’t that different from what the age difference between himself and Lu Ten had been.

Ichiro was next in line to be Fire Lord. As the Avatar, Izumi would be busy enough for the rest of her life without adding the demands of a nation. And watching Ichiro, seeing how strong and smart and kind and brave he was, even at ten…he’d be an incredible Fire Lord someday.

There was a light tap on the door and he turned. The door eased open, admitting Katara, a small tea tray balanced on one of her hands.

“I’m nearly done,” he said, smiling at her.

“You said that an hour ago,” she said, returning his smile.

She sat down in the chair across his desk, placing the tea tray directly on top of his paperwork. He rolled his eyes at her, but obligingly set down his pen and reached for the waiting teacup. His free hand reached for hers, and she took it.

Another joyous laugh echoed from outside and Katara turned to watch out the window, smiling.

“Ready for tonight?” He asked her.

“Are you?” She teased, eyeing his crowded desk.

“All I have to do is dress,” he said.

Katara rose and pressed soft lips to his cheek, “I’m headed back now. Come with me?”

Zuko eyed the paperwork on his desk once more, then shook his head a little, smiled, rose, and followed his wife.

The country would still be there in the morning. Tonight, they had other business. Business that, in many ways, was just as important.

 

—————

 

Izumi waved to Ichiro as he vanished back into the palace, summoned by his mother to prepare for dinner. That meant it was time for Izumi to get ready too.

Izumi leapt straight from the grass up to the balcony of her rooms, propelling herself with airbending. Her airbending was improving again. She had more time now to spend in the spirit world with Aang. And now that she had access to the full fire nation archives, including the texts and artifacts that they’d stolen from the other cultures, Izumi knew more about airbending now than ever.

They’d been working on returning those texts and artifacts to the cultures they belonged to. And they were drawing up plans for a public archive. One that they would fill with all the knowledge and artifacts from the Air Nomads. A place where anyone, regardless of their background, could come and learn about the culture that had been erased by the war.

Aang was helping. Izumi had spent hours with him in the spirit world, listening to him talk about his people, their values, and their ways of life. Building this archive, sharing all the things Aang taught her, was what Izumi could do to help restore balance. It felt like such a small thing, in the face of everything that had been done to his people, but she took that duty very seriously.

But…she and Grandfather had also begun researching something called Harmonic Convergence. It was hard to say whether it would happen in Izumi’s lifetime, or if it would be a journey for the Avatar who came after her, but the things they were learning had incredible implications for the future of airbending in the four nations. It gave her hope that the elements wouldn’t stay unbalanced forever.

She let herself back into her room through the balcony doors.

And found that Alma had gotten into her closet again.

“Alma!” She called. “Get over here!”

Alma, the polar bear dog pup that her Grandfather Hakoda had given her the first time he visited from the Water Tribe, obediently trotted over to Izumi, several socks still hanging from her mouth. Izumi wrestled them free and rubbed Alma’s ears affectionately. Alma was less than a year old, but her head already came up to Izumi’s chest.

“Go lie down,” Izumi ordered.

Alma chuffed at her but leapt up onto the bed and sprawled out on top of the messy blankets.

Izumi ransacked her closet for something that wasn’t covered in Alma’s slobber.

She settled on a set of light fire nation robes in a series of soft pinks and golds. She paired it with water tribe jewelry, and tied her hair up in an earth kingdom style she’d seen Auntie Toph use when she wanted to look especially nice.

“How do I look, girl?” Izumi asked, twirling in front of Alma.

“You look amazing,” came a voice from the doorway.

Suzu. Izumi rushed to meet her partner and kissed her. She took Suzu’s hands in both of hers and stepped back to look at her. She was in a pale green earth kingdom kimono, the fabric adorned with small pink flowers.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Izumi said.

Suzu blushed a little, “thanks. But you have all my good lip paint.”

“Oh! Right,” Izumi said, stepping out of the way so Suzu could get to the dresser to finish her makeup.

Suzu ostensibly had her own set of rooms a little ways down the hall, but with how much time she spent in Izumi’s, it barely mattered. They shared their spaces as easily as they shared their wardrobes. As easily as they shared secrets, hopes and dreams, and a great deal more.

Izumi put her arms around Suzu’s waist, admiring her partner’s reflection in the mirror. She pressed a kiss to Suzu’s cheek. Her own lip paint left a little pink mark on Suzu’s skin.

“Izumi!” Suzu admonished, but with a smile.

She reached for a cloth to wipe her face clean. And she turned at the last moment and left a matching kiss mark on the line of Izumi’s jaw.

“Su!”

“Payback!”

Izumi laughed, “worth it.”

They both cleaned the marks off their faces. Still looking at their reflections, Izumi slipped her hand into Suzu’s.

“Ready?” She asked.

Suzu smiled, “yeah. Let’s go.”

 

——————

 

“What’s the occasion?” The servants in the kitchens had asked when Katara laid out the plans for this evening’s meal.

There was no particular “occasion.” It was simply the first time that everyone she loved, even those who’d been trapped behind different fronts of the war, could all gather together under the same roof since the uprising six months ago.

And that was perhaps the best occasion there was.

Katara had helped with the preparations as much as she could. It had baffled the servants at first, seeing the Fire Lady in their kitchens, just as skilled as they were at preparing large scale meals. But they’d quickly grown used to her, and Katara treasured the ability to retreat into the kitchens. It grounded her, being able to slip behind the scenes sometimes and make something with her hands.

With the war over, her friends, her family, had scattered to all the corners of the world. Many of them used the palace as a home base, much like they had used the air temple, but they were so often away.

Sokka was so often traveling to a new town or city, heading up engineering and reconstruction projects as the world rebuilt itself for peace. Suki had formed an elite group of trusted warriors from the rebellion, who worked to ensure any ex-fire nation soldiers who resisted the transfer of power were brought back into line. Ty Lee threw herself into restoring Caldera, sorting through the tiny details of a city’s everyday needs with fierce determination and care. Toph took point on making sure the palace itself stayed safe. Dissenters to Zuko’s reign were miraculously few and far between, but they existed, and Toph worked day and night to keep them all safe.

Iroh kept to the palace much of the time, keeping them all well supplied with tea and generations worth of perspective and sage advice.

Azula mostly spent time with her son.

And Izumi… Izumi was growing so much. Becoming her own person in the wake of their newfound peace, perhaps for the first time since she’d revealed herself to be the Avatar. Izumi was growing into a new person, and Katara was finally figuring out how to let her. The best thing she could do for her daughter was let her become exactly the person she most wanted to be. They were closer now than ever before.

They were rebuilding the world. All of them were. And Katara had never once been happier.

And tonight they all sat around the large dining table, balcony doors thrown open to let in the summer warmth and the light breeze. Sokka and Suki sat near Piandao, who’d flown in for the evening on some business with Zuko. Azula, between Ty Lee and Ichiro, laughed as her son cracked a clever joke. Toph debated something with Iroh in a conversation that appeared heated but was definitely friendly.

Her father was here. Katara beamed as she watched Hakoda deep in conversation with Izumi, Suzu listening avidly at her elbow. Katara had spent significant time up at the North Pole in the last few months, helping her tribe rebuild. She’d finally been able to take Izumi there, to introduce her daughter to more of her heritage. Reconnecting and bonding over the same things that had brought them together when Izumi was young.

Zuko caught her watching them and squeezed her hand.

The kitchens served up dishes sourced from all four nations.

They ate until they were all satisfied, and Katara felt entirely content. From the meal, from the sweetness of the plum wine, from the company of everyone she loved most in the world.

Izumi caught her eye across the table and smiled at her. Katara smiled back.

 

—————

 

The table cleared, the sun falling towards the horizon, and they moved out into the gardens. Cradling goblets of plum wine or little cups of tea, they congregated on the grass or on the stone benches that lined the paths. Izumi brought Alma out into the yard, and the pup bounded up to all of them in turn, tousseling with Hakoda for several moments, before curling up with her head in Izumi’s lap.

Zuko, on the grass next to Katara, brushed her hair behind her ear and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

One by one, as the sun fell fully and the stars began to flicker, they began to filter away. Azula left to make sure Ichiro got to bed at a semi-decent hour. Sokka and Suki vanished, the magnetism of their shared gazes leaving no doubt to their destination, no matter how coy they attempted to be. Toph and Ty Lee slipped away to walk the gardens. Piandao and Iroh convinced Hakoda to join them for pai sho. Izumi and Suzu departed hand in hand, Izumi whistling to Alma.

She looked up at them, as she turned to go. Izumi looked at Zuko, and at Katara, and gave them a soft smile. Zuko smiled back.

It was extraordinary, watching what living in peace was making of Izumi. Her mission complete, the war over, she was discovering who she was outside of that. She would always have duties as the Avatar, but it was her turn now to decide what that meant.

She would always be their child. Whenever she needed them they would be there. But she was so much more than just the child of the Fire Lord and Fire Lady. More, even, than a child of both water and fire. A child of all four nations, perhaps. A child of the entire universe, and of the stars themselves.

He was so obscenely proud of her it made him ache.

Alone in the gardens with Katara, Zuko pulled her a little closer into his chest. She hummed and nestled into his shoulder.

Under the stars, the world they’d dreamed about and fought for spread out at their feet, Zuko felt whole. Whole, complete, and finally, perfectly at peace.

~

Notes:

Wow. Wow my friends.

Thank you for reading. I still can’t quite believe that I set out to write a fun little story about my favorite characters and somehow, functionally wrote a novel.

Those of you that read and commented along, all my love to you. And if you’re reading this as a completed fic, I treasure you too. Knowing that others will continue to enjoy this story is helping me feel a little less sad about leaving these versions of these characters here on the page.

Thanks again my friends.

Love and shenanigans,

-them_fatale_11