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Chapter Text

The members of the Southern Water Tribe were a proud people. They were children of the tundra, as unyielding as the great walls of ice that surrounded their village. Like the wolves that prowled their frozen lands, these people were fierce, deadly, and loyal to their pack.

But even ice melts in the persistent heat of flames, and these once brave warriors were now resigned to live on their knees as the Regime of Fire slowly took hold of the nation.

This was not to say they did not fight. The spirit of the wolf inside each of them would not let them slink away with their tails between their legs. Somewhere inside of the hearts of the men and women of the Southern Water Tribe, the beast of the icy terrain paced hungrily, growling and snarling against its shackles.

But a wolf without a pack was the weakest of them all.

While proud, the people of the Southern Water Tribe also knew caution. Their men have fought valiantly against the invaders, and now they knew they cannot lose more members of their pack.

Chief Hakoda knew all of this in his heart. When he was a younger man, he had voyaged into the seas to avenge his people. He had fought alongside men who, like him, left behind loved ones for the good of the country. He had stood, shoulder to shoulder with warriors of his tribe, painted with blood, fueled by rage and grief, and brought hell upon those who attempted to breach their shores.

But that time has long passed. Only a handful of men were left in their village after the series of raids. The remaining members of his pack cannot compensate for what the war cost them. Their supplies were dwindling, resources were low, and he could see hunger in the large, trusting eyes of the children. His heart broke as he saw his many fallen comrades in those eyes.

He strode through the village, surveying his people. The last siege ended around six years ago, when the Fire Nation took what they thought was last of the waterbenders away. With the threat gone, they retreated, leaving the Southern Water Tribe to fend for itself with what little they had.

Hakoda knew the spirit of his people remained unbroken. He knew it in the way the children laughed and played in the snow. There was hope for them, but his small tribe had not yet recovered from the siege’s devastating blow. Rehabilitation was part of war, and although the Fire Nation’s military forces did not seem much of a threat now than they were years ago, Hakoda still acknowledged the war raging beyond the icy ocean that surrounded his home.

The few of them that were left, they were survivors of this war. But how will the children of the fallen survive with them, with their scant resources? He tore his eyes away from the small figures playing in the snow, suddenly finding the sight of their innocent happiness unbearable to watch.

His eyes scanned the skies until he saw a speck in the distance. He braced himself.

Katara had been waterbending for as long as she could remember.

Of course, she did not know what waterbending was until her parents explained it to her, the day they saw her change the course of the snowball her brother had thrown at her while they were playing in the tundra. She was only six years old then.

She was so excited learning about her gift. She remembered how, once before, she fell into the dark depths of the ocean after she slipped off an icy ledge when her brother was playing soldier. She should have drowned, but instead she felt the water cradling her somehow, gently returning her back to the shore. Sokka, who had been beside himself with panic, rushed down to her from the ledge and demanded if she was okay. And she was more than okay. It was as if the tumble into the water awakened something in her.

So when her parents explained how some people can manipulate certain elements, it all made sense.

What didn’t make sense to the six-year-old was the worried tone her mother used when she made Katara promise that she would never, ever, ever use her waterbending in front of strangers.

“Katara, you have to promise, okay? Do not show your bending to anyone else. Promise me.”

It was such a strange and ridiculous request that Katara wanted to burst into tears. She had just discovered something wonderful about herself, and now she had to hide it?

“Why, Mommy? Is being a waterbender bad? I don’t want to be bad!”

Her mother hugged her tightly then.

“Waterbending in itself isn’t bad, sweetie. But there are bad people out there. And if they knew what you can do, they will do bad things to you.”

Katara started to cry then. She didn’t want the bad people to get her.

“I don’t want to be a waterbender anymore! Take it back!”

She tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but her mother held her fast and stroked her hair soothingly.

“Katara, my dear, there is nothing wrong with being a waterbender. It is an amazing gift! We are so proud of you. And I promise, those bad people will not hurt you, okay?”

Katara looked up at her mother’s striking blue eyes, eyes that were much like her own. Her lower lip trembled.

“Promise?” she said, putting all her trust in her mother’s words.

“I promise.” Her mother nodded solemnly. “ But you also have to promise me that you will not use your bending in front of strangers.”

“But what if I can’t — ” Katara started protesting that she can’t always control it, remembering the day she fell into the ocean. But she clamped her mouth shut, reminding herself that she and Sokka had kept the incident a secret from their parents and Gran-Gran.

“Okay. I promise.”

Sokka had laughed at her then, packing another snowball into his hands. “Haha, that means you can’t use your magic water on me anymore!”

Katara looked at her father and mother for permission, and when she saw her father smile and nod almost imperceptibly, she stuck out her tongue at Sokka and made the snowball in his hand crash directly into his face.

Now, at the age of thirteen, she can control more than measly snowballs. Her brother still continued to pelt her with those now, though, as they played during the cold summer of the South Pole. But she usually let him win their snowball fights, not only because Sokka was a sore loser, but also because that was the first time in a year that she got to play with him again. For the past ten months, Sokka was at the Academy in the heart of the Capital.

Katara really envied Sokka when he got accepted a year ago. The Academy was the only school in the entire world, and in order to get in, you either had to be a bender or showed exceptional combat skills. And Sokka was a warrior to the bone. Of course he got accepted.

And he obnoxiously gloated and gloated about it that it actually made it easier for Katara to see her brother off at the port two weeks before the start of term.

Katara knew that every bender in their world was required to attend the Academy when they reach her age. But non-benders, like her brother, had to go through a rigorous test before being deemed eligible of training. She was proud of her brother, but at the same time she felt as though he was leaving her to have his own adventures. It didn’t feel fair. They always did things together. They fished together, they played together, they trained together. Just like they always did when their father was still fighting in the war a few years back. Now he was going to leave her all alone? Unacceptable.

So, when they had watched Sokka board the ship that would take him to the Academy, Katara begged and begged their father to let her attend the school a year early. But the expression on her father’s face—a mixture of vehement anger and pain—made her drop her arguments and trudge back into their hut.

During his stay at the Academy, Sokka wrote her of his adventures, and even now that he was home he still had a multitude of tales to tell. As they hiked back to their village, he told Katara about his training with his Sifus and a particular sparring match that he was proud of.

“The kid laughed at me because I wanted to use my boomerang!” Sokka threw his hands in the air. “Sifu Piandao said we could use any weapon as long as it wasn’t bending, which was fine by me—”

“You’re not allowed to use bending in classes?” Katara interjected curiously, trying to paint a picture of the classes in the Academy in her head.

“Only in combat classes,” Sokka waved her off, plunging right back into his story. “Anyway, this kid was a firebender, so I wasn’t complaining that bending wasn’t allowed, but man! He laughed at my boomerang just because he had these two weird curved swords. And he said to me, he said, ‘You’re just an idiot with a boomerang’—”

“Well, you are.” Katara said laughingly.

Sokka waved his hands impatiently at her. “Will you let me finish my amazing story?”

Katara bit her cheek to stop herself from laughing. “Please, continue.”

Her brother didn’t need much encouragement. “So this guy had his swords on both hands, right, so I knocked out one of the swords in his hands with my boomerang. He probably thought he won, because I had no weapon in my hand, so he started swiping at me with his other sword, then boom! My boomerang came back and whacked him on the head and he dropped his other sword! Everyone was so impressed!”

“Everyone?” Katara said disbelievingly.

Sokka scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Okay, fine, not everyone, but some people clapped. Then I said, ‘Yeah, I’m just an idiot with a boomerang, but you’re just a loser in a ponytail.’”

Katara frowned at him. “You really said that? Wouldn’t that get you in trouble?”

He huffed, annoyed that she ruined his awesome ending. “I did say it! In my mind. And in the dormitories. When I was telling it to the other guys. It doesn’t matter! It was cool! You’re no fun.”

Katara rolled her eyes as her brother marched ahead of her and ducked into their hut. She hardly believed any of his stories, because he always blew them out of proportion to make him seem more heroic. Nonetheless, his adventures seemed to give her so much hope.

Being the only waterbender in their village, her longing to be surrounded by people like her was as intense as her desire to receive proper training from a proper waterbending master. She was tired of practicing her bending by herself, tired of only using her bending to trap fish in ice during their frequent hunts.

She knew there were other waterbenders in the world. There were plenty of people like her in their sister tribe in the North Pole. She gathered as much from the snippets she heard in her father’s meetings with the tribal leaders.

But her father was intent on not letting her out of the village to meet other waterbenders. He kept reminding her of her promise not to use waterbending in front of strangers. She knew it was for her own safety, so she barely argued with her father about it, but was so tired of it all. How can she learn how to defend herself from the “bad people”? She wasn’t a warrior like Sokka. She knew the water would protect her, just like it did when she fell into its depths. She knew the power of the waves. She just needed to learn how to guide it properly.

She hoped that this year would be different. She was thirteen now. She was no longer a scared, helpless little girl. She knew she had to train her waterbending skills in front of other people if she wanted to improve. And she desperately wanted to— not just for her own sake, but for the good of the tribe. Her power could protect their people. Her father had to let her go.

He might believe she was too young to fully grasp how the world works, but Katara was  not daft. She knew there was a war going on, despite its horrors never reaching their shores.  It’s been years since the last raid— their only problem now was constant hunger— but as a little girl, Katara had witnessed firsthand how ruthless their enemy was. It further fueled her desire to learn waterbending. Water doused fire, every time.

Besides, she was sure that no one could ever refuse the call of the Fire Nation for benders to attend the Academy. She didn’t even want to think about what happened to anyone who refused.

She shook herself out of her train of thought as she saw her father approach their hut with a messenger hawk on his shoulder. His face was grim, but at the sight of Katara standing by their hut, he gave his daughter a warm, albeit strained, smile.

“Should’ve known you’d be waiting for this,” he muttered, ruffling her hair with a large, calloused hand. “You never give up, don’t you?”

“No,” Katara replied simply, grinning determinedly at her father. “Did you write them back, Dad?”

Hakoda sighed, resigned, lifting his arm and sending the hawk away. He opened the heavy flap of cloth that covered the entrance of their hut. “Why don’t we talk about it inside, Katara?”

Katara obediently rushed into their home and plunked herself down by the fire pit in the middle of the house. Her father sat at his usual spot beside Sokka as her grandmother ladled out sea prune stew into their bowls.

“So?” Katara prompted her father before he could even taste his soup.

Hakoda looked at her eager daughter in sadness. She looks so much like her mother. Why is she growing up so fast? The pain of losing his wife has not quite ebbed over the years, and seeing his daughter so desperate to leave the safety that he worked so hard to provide for her almost brought back a tidal wave of emotions. He sighed and placed his bowl down by the fire and squarely looked at Katara.

“I wrote back the Capital,” he said. “I just confirmed that two children from our tribe will be attending the Academy this year.”

“Thank you, Dad!” Katara raced around the fire pit to hug their father. Sokka stopped shoveling food into his mouth long enough to see his father looking resolutely at him over Katara’s shoulder, eyes burning.

Protect her.

Sokka nodded at his father. He knew, from just a year at the Academy, that his sister’s enthusiasm might not last a month once his sister discovers the actual training that waterbenders go through. But Katara was not easily swayed, and Sokka had learned through tough times that there’s no teacher like experience.

He just had to be there when she falls. He had vowed never to let her fall off a cliff again while he was playing soldier.

Katara almost danced as her family made its way to the docks, where some of the men of their tribe were preparing one of their meager ships for departure. This was it. She was finally going to the Academy.

Hakoda hefted the knapsack filled with her belongings onto the deck. The knapsack was light enough for Katara to carry, since she had packed the lightest of her clothes in anticipation of the heat of the Capital, but her father still insisted on carrying her bag for her. She knew he was just being her dad, but it still made her feel coddled.

Sokka was already standing on the bow of the ship, chatting happily with their father’s right-hand man, Bato. Katara made her way to the two, meaning to ask how long the journey would take, but Hakoda placed a hand firmly on her shoulder.

“Listen to me, Katara,” he said gravely. She looked at him with wide blue eyes, and Hakoda felt a twinge of pain in his gut. So eager to grow up. My Kya, please watch over her. “Don’t cause any trouble for yourself out there, alright? Keep your head down, learn from your classes, and write to me once a week. Okay?”

Katara nodded, smirking slightly. “We’ve been through this before, Dad.”

“I know. Can’t blame a father for missing his only daughter, though,” he pulled her into his arms.

“ Dad , you’re embarrassing me,” Katara said laughingly, pulling away. “Why weren’t you like this when Sokka left last year?”

“Because Sokka has to be a man now, so he has to learn how to take care of himself,” Hakoda answered, eyes twinkling, “But you’re still my baby girl, and I will always worry about you.”

“Dad!” Katara swatted at his arm. “Stop it! I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can, my daughter. Nevertheless…” He reached into his parka and pulled out a strip of blue fabric. He proffered it to Katara, who ran a finger through the silk, stopping when she reached the round stone in the middle. Hakoda smiled at her, knowing she recognizes it. “I want you to take this piece of home with you. Something you can draw strength from, in such an unfamiliar place.”

Katara swallowed, a lump forming at the back of her throat. She blinked back the tears at the corners of her eyes and nodded at her father, not trusting herself to speak. Hakoda silently fastened the cloth around her throat and his hands lingered on the stone before he spoke again.

“And Katara?” he placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning down so he could look her right in the eye. “ Do not associate with firebenders. ”

Katara shivered at the steely tone her father used. She only heard this voice from her father during his council meetings. This was the voice of Chief Hakoda, veteran warrior and leader, and his statement was an order she couldn’t ignore.

And she wouldn’t ignore it. Her mind filled with memories of the flames from the last raid. The Fire Nation broke her family and her village. Fire destroyed everything in its path. She would not walk into the line of destruction.

She faced her father in icy resolution. “Yes, Dad. I understand completely.”

“Katara, come look at this!” Bato’s voice cut through the sounds of the waves and wind. He beckoned her to the bow of the ship.

Katara ventured out into the open area. The trip to the Fire Nation Capital took about two weeks, and somewhere along the way, the air had changed from freezing to sweltering. It was early in the morning, but she was already drenched in sweat. She was not used to sweating this much. It made her feel sticky and uncomfortable.

Sokka was already leaning over the railing, a blissful smile on his face as he breathed in the salty air. Katara was about to slap his brother on the back of his head for leaning too far out, but she caught a glimpse of the looming island before them.

The Academy.

It was massive. That was the first thought that popped into her head. Grasping the railings in her hands to steady herself, she leaned out almost as far as her brother did, trying to decipher the shapes shrouded in the mist. She could make out a sprawling structure, bigger than the entire expanse of their village and the surrounding tundra.

You could fit five Southern Water Tribes in that thing.

The architecture was something she had never seen before. Then again, she hasn’t seen much beyond their little tribe’s huts made of bones and skins. But this structure before her—it was made of stone. Black stone, with crevices and windows carved into the surface. The corners of the walls were gilded with golden dragons, and the rooftops gleamed red in the early morning sun. As their ship approached the shores surrounding the Academy, Katara recognized other smaller buildings sitting adjacent to the towering mass.

Bato steered the ship around the island, heading for the port. As the vessel traced the curved outline of the shore, Katara saw the mountainous terrain on which the cluster of buildings sat. A mountain range surrounded the other side of the formidable structure, the morning sun cresting its peaks. The rising sun here was too harsh, too bright, too hot. She found herself comparing it to how the sun rose at home, its muted rays glinting on the frozen blue face of the cliffs. Her hand clutched the necklace her father gave her when they departed.

He was right, she thought. I needed a piece of home in such an unfamiliar place.

Sokka jumped down from the ship as soon as they docked, heaving his own knapsack along the wooden pier. Katara remained rooted at the bow of the ship. A great fear suddenly seized her and her blood thundered in her ears.

What if she wasn’t good enough for the Academy? What if she had been so excited for nothing? What if she made no friends, what if Sokka leaves her behind for his new friends? What if firebenders scorch her hair off in her sleep?

“You coming, sis?” Sokka called out to her from below.

Hand still clutching her necklace, she nodded mutely and picked up her knapsack. She took a deep breath to calm her trembling body and jumped down from the ship. Katara trained her eyes at the overpowering breadth of the Academy.

She had never felt so small in her entire life.

Chapter Text

The Academy’s magnificent facade did not prepare Katara for the grandeur inside. The front hall was richly decorated with tapestries of the four nations— the Water Tribes’ silver crescent moon and waves stitched into an expanse of deep cobalt; the Fire Nation’s black three-pronged flame embroidered into deep red fabric; the Earth Kingdom’s emerald Pai Sho tile sewn into shimmering golden cloth; and the Air Nomads’ swirling sky blue orb embellished into a heavy white textile.

Why they bothered to add the Air Nomads’ emblem was beyond Katara. Their people had long been eliminated by the Fire Nation, back when the war started about a hundred years ago. Katara didn’t know anything about the Air Nomads— she didn’t know what kind of people they were and what value they espoused, but she learned from chatter around the elderly tribeswomen back in her village that the Air Nomads— particularly the airbenders— inspired the ire of the Fire Nation so much that every one of them was burned to a crisp.

Katara was just about to ask this to Sokka when he cut her off with an impatient “Come on!”, waving his arms at her from the other side of the hall and gesturing towards large double doors.

Katara shifted her knapsack slightly over her shoulder and skipped to Sokka, her steps echoing in the vastness of the front hall.

“Help me with this, huh?” Sokka shouldered one of the heavy wooden doors open, struggling to plant his slipping feet on the shiny, polished floor. Katara rushed to help him, pushing against the carved surface of the wood. The door opened inward, letting out a bellowing creak.

“Do you always have to push doors open like this?” Katara wondered. She did not like the idea of the creaking calling attention to her whenever she entered a room. And she did not like the thought of— Tui forbid— being locked behind one of these old doors that were thick enough to muffle her screams. The hairs on the back of her neck stood.

But Sokka just waved his hand dismissively, picking up his discarded knapsack from the floor. “Eh, these doors are always open after the welcome dinner. We’re, like, half a day early thanks to the winds and Bato’s steering. Now let’s get going, I wanna rest my sea legs so they can turn into land legs in time for dinner.”

He squeezed into the crack between the double doors. Katara followed suit, tugging her knapsack through the gap. Her eyes fell on the vast room ahead of her, and her jaw dropped in awe.

This must be the Great Hall that Sokka told her about. The place where children from all over the world gathered, benders and non-benders alike. Four long wooden tables dominated the area. Towards the end of the hall was another long table, set on a raised platform. A great stone podium faced the rest of the room, its features carved into a magnificent bird that Katara recognized from the correspondence that her father received—a phoenix. Its wings, depicted in stone, furled outwards from the edges of the podium. She wondered if the Fire Nation had commissioned it from earthbenders, or if they carved it themselves. Somehow she found the idea of firebenders carving stone much less plausible than the thought of them forcing earthbenders to create something so unnecessarily opulent.

Katara’s eyes scanned the lavish, empty space. As in the front hall, tapestries of the four nations hung from the high ceiling. Open windows almost reaching to the ceiling allowed slats of light and gusts of wind to filter in. Through the windows, Katara spied large courtyards flanking the Great Hall on either side.

“Pretty cool, right?” Sokka appeared at her shoulder again, sporting a smug grin on his face, as though he was responsible for the creation of the Great Hall. Katara rolled her eyes at her brother.

“I wanna explore. Where can we dump our stuff?” She asked her brother, shifting the knapsack on her back.

“But I don’t wanna explore…” Sokka protested. “I want to sleep, Katara! It’s barely noon and classes start tomorrow so I can’t sleep in!”

Katara crossed her arms over her chest. “I said I want to explore. You don’t have to babysit me, Sokka.”

Sokka stifled a yawn and slumped his shoulders in resignation. “Fine, fine. But you better remember the way back to our quarters or else. ”

“Sure, big bro,” Katara conceded, trying not to laugh at her brother’s poor attempt at a threatening voice. She followed him to the corridor on the left side of the Great Hall— what Sokka called the “West Wing”— and the two of them clambered up one, two, three flight of stairs. The corridor on the fourth floor was blocked off entirely by another carved, wooden door.

Sokka sighed and shook out his canteen from his knapsack, dislodging some of his belongings in the process. He held the canteen out to her.

“Here, use this,” he said by way of explanation. Bewildered, she watched him stuff some socks that have fallen onto the floor back into his bag before speaking.

“Uh, what exactly am I supposed to use it on?”

Sokka slapped a hand to his forehead. “Ah, right! I haven’t told you about this bit,” he said, pointing at the carvings on the door. Up close, Katara noticed the raised silver circle, about the size of her two fists combined, lodged in the middle of the door. Carved into its surface was the Water Tribes’ trademark sickle moon and waves.

She raised her eyebrows at Sokka, waiting for him to explain.

“Look here, at the sides,” he said, pointing at the notches on either side of the mound. “See, this is how we keep out other nations from snooping around on our turf. It’s a lock that can only be opened if you can bend water through those two holes.”

Katara’s brows furrowed. “How do you get in, though?”

Sokka grinned, eyes sparkling, puffing his chest proudly. “I figured out a way to trick it. You just gotta…” He mimics dumping the contents of his canteen through the opening, “...slosh the water forcefully enough so the lock thinks you’re a waterbender.” After a pause, he scratched the back of his head, deflating slightly. “Usually, though, non-benders have to wait for benders to show up.”

“Wow…” Katara’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s seems incredibly unfair. Good that you figured out a way around it, though.”

“I know! I’m a genius!” Sokka crowed. Suddenly tired of her brother’s antics, Katara uncorked the canteen and led a wisp of water swiftly through the lock. The door swung forward on its hinges.

“Welcome to the Water Tribes common room,” Sokka announced with a flourish.

The Water Tribes’ ante-chambers were decorated profusely in blues and whites. Rugs made of white polar bear dog fur were scattered on the floor around low little tables. Katara spotted a stack of embroidered cushions lining the walls; she suspected these would soon be scattered on the floor, too, as soon as her future classmates from the Northern Water Tribe disembark from their ship.

Katara felt a rush of excitement at the thought of the arrival of other waterbenders. She rushed to the windows facing the ocean— belatedly, she noticed there were windows overlooking the enormous courtyard, as well— and threw the shell panes open. She welcomed the salty breeze and set her sights on the horizon.

Nothing stood on the straight blue line between the sea and the sky, though.  She should have expected it, since Sokka told her they arrived earlier than expected, but the emptiness of the seas left a taste of bitter disappointment in her mouth. Crestfallen, Katara padded across the lounge to the narrow hallway. She figured she might as well explore the Academy before the influx of students could hinder her.

“The girls’ dormitory is the first door on the left,” Sokka explained from his spot on a polar bear rug, watching his sister stand hesitantly in the middle of the hallway. “The washing area is in the far end of the corridor, if you ever decide to get that traveling stench off of you,” he chided as he untied his boots and extracted his sock-covered feet with a satisfied sigh. Katara wrinkled her nose.

“Maybe you’d like to use the washroom yourself, Sokka. Your feet stink,” she countered, sauntering into the girls’ sleeping quarters before Sokka could reply.

She was glad that she didn’t have to share a room with her brother anymore. His snoring kept her up most nights, and, as much as she missed her big brother, she’d gotten used to the peaceful nights of uninterrupted sleep during the months he spent at the Academy the year before.

Katara surveyed the dormitory she would be sharing with girls her age. Wooden beds lined the walls, with dressers at the foot of each one. Cautiously checking if these beds showed any sign of ownership, she chose one beside a window near the far end of the long room. The windows here faced the ocean, as well— that must mean the boys’ quarters faced the courtyard. She was sure it would get loud there when classes start. Katara smirked, suddenly glad she was a girl.

When she finished putting away her clothes (which didn’t take a lot of time, since she didn’t have much that fit the climate of the Capital), Katara decided it was time to explore. Keeping in mind the peculiar lock of the Water Tribes common room, she snatched up her own water-filled animal skin jug and tiptoed out of the dormitory.

She could hear Sokka’s snores from the hallway and thanked the Spirits she didn’t have to deal with his big brother meddling as she explored the Academy grounds. Now that she was free from his constant reminders not to make trouble, she exited the common room gleefully and ran up the next flight of stairs.

As she reached the landing above the Water Tribes’ quarters, it became apparent that this floor had not been used for years, and for good reason. The ornate silver lock on the carved door blocking the corridor before her bore the swirling orb of the Air Nomads.

Katara approached the door slowly, disturbing the thick layer of dust on the carpeted stone steps. She tentatively touched the tarnished, discolored lock, the carvings barely visible in the dirt. In the gloom, she could hardly make out the notches underneath the layers of filth that coated the lock. It seemed the holes were clogged with muck from disuse. She wondered how airbenders used to get into their common room. Could Sokka figure out how to open it with his wily tricks? Were non-airbenders able to open these locks? Katara wasn’t even sure there were Air Nomads who weren’t airbenders, since their people were nothing but stories now. If there were non-benders among the Nomads in the Academy, they had to be warriors like Sokka. Surely they also figured out how to trick the lock.

Before she could inspect the puzzle any further, she noticed the scorch marks on the door.

A shiver of horror ran down her spine and she withdrew her hand sharply, imagining the surface of the door alit with flames.

Now that she was aware of the damage, she noticed that almost the entire door was coated in black soot. Did the Fire Nation try to break down this door during the Air Nomads’ rebellion? Looking at the blackened state of the wood, Katara supposed that the doors held the power to keep out anyone who couldn’t bend air. Did the firebending soldiers force an airbender to open the common room door for them when it wouldn’t budge? Did they drag the helpless, defenseless children from their beds? Where were they taken? Were they publicly executed in the courtyards? Were they aware of the problem, even though they weren’t part of the insurrection? Did they get a chance to fight back?

She understood the price for rebellion, but she did not understand why the children were punished for an act they did not commit.

Katara staggered backwards, her breath coming in gasps. She ran down the stairs until her boots clattered across the granite floors of the empty Great Hall and into the damp, hard ground of the courtyard on the right-hand side. Her head swam with images of small limbs and charred bodies.

She was no stranger to death, but death will never become her friend.

Katara forced herself to take slow, deep breaths. She surveyed the Eastern Courtyard, trying to bury the gruesome images that her mind conjured. The edge of the clear space was lined with shrubbery and trees she didn’t recognize; the foliage stretched out into the towering mountain range that walled one side of the Academy. Stone benches lined the dark outer walls of the Great Hall, and at the end of the open space was a great stone fountain fashioned into two dragons intertwined. Water flowed from their gaping maws.

The mere presence of water invigorated Katara, driving away the mental pictures of fire and blackened bones. With water, she was safe.

She ran shakily to the fountain, sitting on its edge and dipping her arms elbow-deep in the pool of cool water. A bubble of laughter escaped from her lips as she allowed the all the tension she’d felt upon setting her eyes on the Academy slip away.

She played with the gushing fountain water as she’d played with the icy ocean back home— lightly pushing and pulling, disrupting the natural flow to bring ribbons of liquid around her arms, only to guide them back to their source without a single spill.

Unlike her training in the shores of the South Pole, her sweat mingled with the water here. She was aware of the addition of the salt to the freshwater of the fountain. She wondered if she’ll ever get used to the Capital’s heat.

Boom!

Katara nearly jumped into the pool at the unmistakable sound of explosion. Heart thundering in her chest, she faced the building across the courtyard, trying to discern the source of the explosion, assessing if someone got hurt.

Boom!

Another flash of fire flared in one of the windows of the upper floors, followed by angry shouting and glass shattering.

Katara gasped. This wasn’t an accidental explosion, like cooking gone wrong. This was a firebender. There was a firebender near her. An angry firebender.

Without a second thought, she ran to the Water Tribes’ common room.

Of course there would be a firebender there, she thought as her feet flew across the Great Hall once more. This is the Academy. I’ll have to encounter a firebender one way or another.

That didn’t mean she was ready to face one.

Belatedly, she realized that she was probably bending water in the courtyard across the Fire Nation’s quarters. It felt wrong now that she was there, somehow, as though she encroached a place that she wasn’t supposed to know about.

Chest heaving, Katara pulled up a sliver of water from her jug to unlock the common room door. Her shaking fingers couldn’t thread the wisp of water through the infernal lock— with a frustrated growl, Katara banged on the door, hoping she was louder than her brother’s snores.

The door swung open and instead of Sokka, she was met by a willowy girl with white hair.

Yue. Katara learned that was the name of the white-haired girl.  

She was sitting across her now, in the long table of the Water Tribes in the Great Hall. Katara learned that Yue was a waterbender, like her, and that she was the only daughter of the chieftain of the Northern Water Tribe, like her. But Yue’s tribe considered her a princess, and no one in her village has ever considered Katara a princess.

She liked it that way, though. She already had enough attention from being the only waterbender in the South Pole; she did not enjoy being treated differently just because of something she was born with.

Which was something Sokka had been doing so blatantly since they seated themselves in the presence of the princess. Not that her brother was groveling at Yue’s feet— he just kept falling over himself to impress her because he said she had “really pretty hair and really pretty eyes.”

Katara rolled her eyes at her brother, who was now telling a very overblown, obnoxious story about that one time they took down a tiger seal. Except he kept changing it to a tiger shark, which were next to impossible to be taken down by a loudmouthed hunter and an inexperienced waterbender.

Katara didn’t correct him, though. Yue seemed to enjoy Sokka’s stories, judging by the way her eyes sparkled with interest and how she covered her mouth when she giggled.

Ladling more of the five flavor soup into her bowl, Katara let her eyes wander over the other tables, where children her age from all over the world chattered and ate.

She hadn’t realized how different their complexions would be. Their table was scattered with the familiar brown skin and blue eyes of the Water Tribes. The table closest to theirs, however, was filled with children whose skin were lighter than hers, their eyes different shades of green. Based on their embroidered gold and green robes, these were the children of the Earth Kingdom. Those sitting on the far end of the hall had to be from the Fire Nation. They were pale, and Katara could see that their golden eyes burned like their element, even from a distance. She scowled at the lot.

The only vacant table in the Great Hall was the one on the other side of the Water Tribe. Katara wondered what the Air Nomads looked like, what color their eyes were. She stopped her train of thought before she could actively recall the soot-covered door of the Air Nomads’ common room.

She pushed her bowl away, her appetite suddenly gone.

“Hey, sis,” Sokka stopped his rambunctious rambling to eye her five flavor soup. “You gonna finish that?”

Katara pursed her lips. “There’s a whole table of food here, Sokka.”

“Yeah, but five flavor soup’s the best! All of it’s gone now! Trade you my komodo chicken for it,” Sokka pleaded, offering her his own bowl, which was filled with rice and a dish Katara wasn’t familiar with.

“Fine, but I am not eating that,” she nodded at the chicken, “It looks spicy.”

“Alright, more meat for me!”

Sokka’s whoop was immediately silenced by an admonishing shush from one of the older Northern Water Tribe students. Katara straightened up, noticing how the chatter in the Great Hall has silenced. All of the attention was directed at the High Table, where an elderly man had stood up from the center.

The man made his way to the phoenix podium, a calm, albeit tight-lipped smile on his face. His white hair was tied into a topknot, and his white beard reached his chest. His hands, folded into the sleeves of his scarlet robes, rested above his robust belly.

He had the kindest golden eyes that Katara had ever seen in a man from the Fire Nation.

This had to be Headmaster Iroh.

The Headmaster cleared his throat before addressing the audience in a slow, deliberate manner. “Welcome! Welcome to a new year at the Academy. I am pleased to see bright new faces in our midst. I sincerely hope your stay in these hallowed halls would prove most illuminating.”

His eyes twinkled as he continued. “If you would allow an old man a few more words before you retire to your chambers: Despite our innate differences, the Academy is a place of unity.

“Each of you hails from a country of distinct culture and value. Fire, Earth, Air, and Water— these have shaped our land in ways beyond our capacity to comprehend.

“Fire is the element of power. The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will and the energy and drive to achieve what they want.” He bowed his head towards the Fire Nation table as the occupants broke out a smattering applause.  

“Earth is the element of substance. The people of the Earth Kingdom are diverse and strong. They are persistent and enduring.” He said, amidst low murmurs of appreciation and nods of pride from the Earth Kingdom children.

“Water,” he acknowledged the Water Tribe students with a gracious wave of his hand, “is the element of change. The people of the Water Tribes are capable of adapting to many things. They have a sense of community and love that holds them together through anything.”

Katara felt her heart brim with pride at the Headmaster’s words. Sokka lifted his goblet with a huge grin, and several others did so alongside him.

Headmaster Iroh smiled faintly at them before addressing the crowd at large. “I point out these differences not to draw distinction between the three remaining countries of our world; rather, I hope these encourage you to learn that what divides us can someday unite us. Understanding will help us become whole.

“Off to bed!”

There was a great scraping of long benches as students all around her got up from their seats. Katara reluctantly followed her peers to the Water Tribes’ common room, still mulling over the Headmaster’s words.

“Is he…” Katara muttered to her brother as they made their way up the stairs, “Is the Headmaster crazy?”

“What? No!” Sokka squawked. “He’s just a cryptic old man, and some say he’s just a glorified babysitter because he abdicated the throne, but he’s not crazy. I think.”

“He’s the Fire Lord’s brother?” Katara gasped. How could a man with such kind eyes be related to the man waging this never-ending war?

Sokka shrugged, unaffected. “Yeah. Hey, you want some Earth Kingdom egg custard tarts? I snuck some in, they were so delicious . Man, I wish Gran-Gran could make these…”

Katara was no longer listening. She bid her brother good night and made her way to her bed. The sounds of crashing waves lulled her to sleep almost immediately.

Maybe it was because she ate more than she was used to eating back home, but Katara had a very strange dream. She stood in front of the Water Tribes’ common room door, which was covered in soot. Angry shouts came from inside, and she could hear the soft whoosh of fire being bent. I need to save them, Katara pleaded with the door, forcing herself to touch the soot-blackened surface. It swung open at her touch, and suddenly she was seven again, bundled in blue robes against the biting winds of the South Pole, shivering in the threshold of their hut. A tall man in scarlet armor stood with his back to her, his hands gloved in flames.

Katara awoke with a start, shaking and sweating. She tugged her blanket over her head, relishing the contrast of the stifling Fire Nation heat against the snow-filled air of her dream, and slowly she drifted back to a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

“There, look.”

“Where?”

“Next to the tall girl with the long black hair.”

“Did you see his scar?”

“Do you think it’s cursed?”

Fire Prince Zuko scowled. Whispers had followed him from the moment he left his uncle’s office after morning tea the day before. First, it was his friends from the Fire Nation. They knew well enough not to ask him what happened over the summer, but they speculated in hushed tones about his massive failure and subsequent humiliation. Second were the Sifus he passed by before and after the welcome feast. Zhao had unsurprisingly smirked at him from the High Table, his eyes mocking; Wu started to predict that he will be rid of “the darkness that engulfed” him before he shoved his way through the crowd; the waterbending healer, Yugoda, looked at him with so much pity that he imagined burning the old hag in the middle of dinner.

Today, it was worse— worse than his first day at the Academy, two years prior. Back then, the upperclassmen expected the Fire Lord’s son to join their ranks— no one had elbowed their friends while looking at his face in disgust and curiosity. Which has already happened thrice as he crossed the Great Hall from the Fire Nation table to the Eastern Courtyard.

He was nearing the archway into the courtyard when he felt another pair of eyes on his scar. Zuko kept his head up and threw his shoulders back, glancing around the nearest occupied table for the perpetrator. His eyes landed on the blue-eyed boy who was gaping at him, slack-jawed, with his spoon halfway to his mouth. Zuko’s eyes narrowed in recognition and mounting annoyance. Idiot with a boomerang… He glared venomously at the Water Tribe peasant, who squeaked audibly and turned back to his porridge.

The Fire Prince strode to the courtyard, fists clenched at his sides, not even bothering to wait for his sister and her posse to catch up with him. He plunked himself down on the straw mats that have been set up on the packed dirt. He willed himself not to set anyone or anything on fire.

First thing in the mornings at the Academy was training with the masters of your element. For Zuko and the other children of the Fire Nation, this meant an hour of meditation with Iroh. It was excruciating at best— being forced to clear his mind when his body was filled with the energy of the rising sun, begging him to uncoil and strike.

It was especially unbearable now, with Zuko’s emotions in turmoil. He failed to see how meditating could improve one’s bending. Fire was fueled by passion, he believed, and sitting quietly and breathing slowly did nothing to dampen the flames creeping up in his mind.

Zuko spent the hour imagining the flames lapping up the skin of every person who glanced at him with pity and disgust in their eyes. It was a morbid line of thought for a fifteen-year-old firebender to have, but Zuko did not care. The mental pictures he conjured placated his rage more than paying attention to the chi inside him.

His classmates began chatting lightly as the hour of meditation ended. Azula primly stood up from her mat. She had a satisfied smirk on her face, as though she had succeeded further than anyone at her first formal meditation attempt.

And maybe she had , said a small, bitter voice in the back of Zuko’s mind. His sister had always been better than him at everything. Their father made sure he remembered that.

"She was born lucky. You were lucky to be born…”

Ty Lee’s gleeful laugh distracted him from his reverie. He stood up and dusted himself off, trying to ignore the lithe girl’s demonstrations of her gymnastic abilities. Zuko did not know why his sister associated with such a cheery girl— and a non-bender, at that.

Unlike the morning trainings of the earthbenders and waterbenders, Iroh allowed non-benders to join the early meditation session, saying that clearing one’s mind of worldly matters wasn’t an exclusive feat for firebenders.

Recalling his uncle’s proverbs awakened another bout of annoyance in Zuko. He strode to the area at the far end of the courtyard where their daily spars occurred, planting his feet and dropping into a stance.

“I see you’re excited to begin, Prince Zuko,” Sifu Jeong Jeong commented drily. The master waved his hand impatiently at the other benders as the non-benders scattered for their hand-to-hand combat session with Zhao.

Zuko’s classmates lined up beside him, and Azula elbowed her way to the center of the line, back straight and chin held high. He nearly growled at her impertinence— she was the youngest in the beginner group, did she really think it wise to show off, despite being the Princess of the Fire Nation? Zuko had to work tooth and nail his past two years in the Academy— neither his uncle nor his other Sifus gave him a quarter for being the Crown Prince. Azula’s boldness irked him greatly, as though she had invalidated all of his hard work.

He can’t wait to move up to the advanced group in his fourth year. Then again, Azula might move up with him if their Sifus really deemed her skills as prodigious.

Jeong Jeong listed his usual pointers for the first years and went through their ranks correcting postures, but Zuko couldn’t hear much of it over the thundering in his ears. He glowered at Azula’s smug profile and reminded himself, over and over, that attacking another student without a Sifu’s permission was grounds for detention. And he will not dishonor himself in the eyes of his peers by getting detention over a squabble with his sister.

Speaking of dishonor…

Zuko glared at his uncle, who was seated on one of the Eastern Courtyard’s stone benches, merrily sipping his tea and watching the Fire Nation’s training session. Zuko couldn’t believe he was forced to spend the entire summer with him at the Academy while recuperating from his scar. It was salt on the fresh wound.

The old man had been insufferable, with all his speeches on honor and destiny. As if his disgraced uncle knew anything about those— giving up his crown, his power, and his command of the largest army in the Fire Nation just to oversee a bunch of children.

The Fire Prince supposed his uncle’s downfall was due to his cousin’s death. He understood, to some degree, the pain that Iroh must have felt upon the loss of Lu Ten. Zuko himself had been devastated when he found out, but there was a sense of pride in dying while fighting for your country. He idolized his cousin growing up— and he had died in a blaze of glory, in the name of the peace the Fire Nation maintained across the world. Lu Ten was so full of potential, a beacon of hope to those who knew him. Zuko understood how excruciating it must have been for Iroh to see his son killed in a battle he commanded.

But what Zuko didn’t understand was the debilitating inaction of his uncle in the aftermath. He had no fierce sense of vengeance on whoever slayed Lu Ten, no wrath brought upon the rebels of Ba Sing Se. It was as if his inner flames were smothered by tears and tea.

Iroh just gave up. And Zuko loathed him for that, because Zuko never gave up.

He swore he would never end up like the defeated old man, despite his current predicament.

“You whacked the Fire Prince with your boomerang?” Katara hissed at her brother, who was busy gulping down porridge with berries and lychee nuts after the Fire Prince glared at him with enough heat to burn down glaciers.

“It was totally fair, Katara!” Sokka cried defensively, a bit of his breakfast dribbling down his chin. “Sifu Piandao said we needed to treat sparring as an actual battle, and use tactical means to win! I did what I had to do!”

Katara rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, her own bowl of porridge forgotten. “Why didn’t you tell me this part of your awesome story back at home?”

“Because you’re a blabbermouth!” replied Sokka, waving an arm dismissively and nearly upending his seatmate’s bowl. “You would’ve told Dad!”

“Yeah, I would have, because we could very well be roasted by the Fire Lord in our sleep, Sokka!”

Sokka flinched. “I know, I know. I didn’t think  it through.” He turned back to his bowl with a thoughtful expression. “I guess the boasting didn’t help, either…”

“What about that mark on his face?” Katara continued. She had noticed the scar as the Fire Prince crossed the Hall. “Did you do that, too?”

“What? No!” Sokka sputtered. “That wasn’t there last year. I wonder how he got it.”

“Who cares how he got it?” Katara scoffed. “I got an earful from Dad about staying out of trouble, but it should have been you on the end of it!”

“It wasn’t trouble, Katara,” Sokka explained, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “The only time you’re allowed to attack someone is during training. He won’t be able to fight me outside class, and it would be pretty cowardly to go tell the Fire Lord that he lost to a non-bender.”

Katara scowled at the hidden brag at the end of her brother’s sentence. “I think you should apologize to him.”

“What?!” Sokka’s sudden burst of laughter turned into a convulsive cough as he choked on his breakfast. He thumped his chest a few times and wiped tears from his eyes before speaking. “You’re insane. That’s such a girly thing to do.”

“What does being a girl have to do with apologizing, Sokka?” Katara asked, steel in her voice. Sokka shrugged, reaching for his cup of water to ease his still-scratchy throat.

It froze solid before he could take a sip.

“Hey!” he protested. “I was gonna drink that!”

“Well, if you want me to say sorry, I will not,” Katara said snidely, rising from the bench, “because apologizing doesn’t have anything to do with being a girl. ”

With that, she stalked off to the Western Courtyard, her nose in the air.

Yue had explained to her before breakfast that they would be receiving their lessons in the cabin by the river, at the far end of the courtyard. Katara hadn’t noticed the river before, and the Western Courtyard was so immense that by the time she reached the wooden cabin— it was more of a shack, somewhat rundown and not cared for— her legs were burning and sweat had gathered on her brow. She wondered if they’d be going into the water for training; the prospect of splashing around in her element seemed particularly attractive to Katara after the trek to the shack.

She spotted Yue by the muddy bank, chatting with some other girls that Katara recognized from their dormitory.

“Hi there!” she greeted cheerfully. Yue greeted her warmly and waved her over.

“Have you met the girls yet?” Yue gracefully led Katara to the loose circle of girls. “This is Gumi, she comes from a long line of healers back home.” The slight young girl with beads in her hair grinned excitedly at Katara. “Those two are Yuka and Yura. Yuka has a mole on her temple; that’s the only way to tell them apart.” The identical girls waved at Katara as the princess continued to introduce the others. “That one over there is Baya. Her younger brother, Akkad, is your brother’s age.” Katara nodded at the girl who resembled the boy on the other side of Sokka at breakfast.

“Are we still waiting for the others?” Katara asked the group at large. The Water Tribes were not as large a group as the Earth Kingdom, but she felt slightly disappointed at how few waterbenders there were.

“Only Sifu Yugoda,” Gumi replied cheekily, earning a few laughs from the girls.

“Are all the waterbenders in the North girls?” Katara asked.

“Oh, La, no,” Baya said, covering her smile with an elegant hand, “Akkad is actually a waterbender, as well.”

“The boys train with Sifu Pakku,” Yue expounded  further.

“Do we get to train with Sifu Pakku after this?” inquired Katara. Her classmates tried not to laugh, and she tried not to bristle.

“Sifu Pakku does not teach girls, Katara,” Yue explained gently.

“But— why? That seems incredibly unfair.” Katara crossed her arms over her chest. “My father taught both me and my brother how to handle a spear.” Truthfully, she wasn’t better at wielding it compared to Sokka, but she was grateful for the instruction, especially when her catch provided the village with more food. Why were the other benders learning from someone else just because they were boys?

“We are trained to heal, not to fight.” Yuka— or was it Yura, Katara couldn’t tell— said, a hint of haughtiness in her voice.

“Yeah, we leave the brutish behavior to the men,” smirked the other twin. “At least in this war, we’re doing something different than hacking down people.”

Katara blinked in confusion. Were her classmates actually fine with not learning how to defend themselves?

“That’s just how we do it in the North, Katara,” Yue touched her arm softly. “There were no Southerners until you and Sokka arrived, so the tradition carried on here.”

Katara opened her mouth to argue, to make them see how ridiculous the whole thing was, but she was cut off by an elderly voice from the shack.

“Ladies, gather ‘round!” Sifu Yugoda motioned for them to join her on the dilapidated porch, where a notched wooden dummy lay. Her classmates hurried to sit in a loose circle around the dummy, but Katara trailed behind, still stewing at the injustice of coming all the way to the Academy just to learn how to heal.

“I haven’t seen you before, dear,” Yugoda glanced at her curiously. “And I’ve helped birth all the young ones at home. You must be from our sisters in the South.”

Katara nodded meekly. “I’m Katara,” she said, finally kneeling on the porch beside Yue.

“Welcome, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.” Yugoda smiled warmly at her and summoned a wisp of water from an earthen pot.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sokka asked, bewildered, as he heaped dish after dish on his plate.

Katara shrugged. The healing lesson was surprisingly exhausting, and by the end of it, she still hadn’t learned how to channel her energy enough to make her element glow to a healer’s blue.

Katara sincerely believed it was because she wasn’t born a healer, but Sifu Yugoda insisted it was an innate gift in female waterbenders.  She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Was a healer all she was supposed to be?

“I’m never gonna complain when you’re quiet, sis, but it is really weird when you’re not yapping,” Sokka continued, shoveling food into his mouth.

Katara ground her teeth together, trying not to snap at his brother. It wasn’t his fault she was born a girl waterbender.

“Hey,” Sokka filled the silence, attempting to cheer her up. “You have free period after lunch, you know, when the Water Tribe guys learn swordsmanship from Sifu—”

“Where’s the library?” Katara blurted out, a plan forming in her head.

“Third floor of the East Wing,” her brother answered, startled at the first words Katara spoke in half an hour. “Spirits, Katara, are you seriously planning on studying during your free period?”

“Yes,” replied Katara curtly, pushing her barely-eaten lunch away. She was halfway down the long tables before Sokka called after her.

“Katara! Are you coming back or can I eat your seaweed noodles?”

She didn’t deign to reply.

Zuko wasn’t at lunch.

Mai wasn’t worried. Sure, he had become surlier and more prone to fits of rage after his Agni Kai with his father, but she was positive he was just brooding somewhere, probably in their common room. She’d been slightly disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm upon seeing her when she arrived, but Mai never pined over anyone who clearly didn’t want anything to do with her at the moment.

Zuko would come to her if he wanted to talk, and if he didn’t, that was fine by her, too. She didn’t need to know what he didn’t want her to know.

No, Mai wasn’t worried. Or so she convinced herself.

“It was liberating to have the palace all to myself,” Azula’s smooth, clear voice interrupted Mai’s musings. “You should’ve dropped by, Mai, even though Zuzu wasn’t there.”

The sharp edge underlying Azula’s voice rivaled that of Mai’s throwing knives, but she remained unperturbed. Mai knew how to handle sharp things. “I wish I had gone. Father dragged the family to Omashu. It was a despicably boring summer.”

“Aw, that’s too bad!” Ty Lee simpered. “Azula and I had such a grand time when I visited for a week, didn’t we, Azula?”

“Just marvelous,” Azula drawled, examining her nails. Mai smirked slightly at the Fire Princess’s sarcasm.

“Must’ve been a blast,” Mai commented wryly.

Ty Lee pouted at them before flashing a bright smile at Chan, who had been hovering around the trio for about five minutes.

“Well, I, for one, am glad that Uncle took Zuzu in after that disgraceful Agni Kai,” Azula said abruptly. Mai was aware of her friend’s talent for turning small talk into a compromising conversation. She bit into her komodo sausage primly as she waited for the other foot to fall.

“His task is befitting of fools like my ludicrous uncle,” Azula continued, seemingly bored. “I highly doubt Zuko has found any useful information on the Avatar during his months of poring over scrolls in the library.”

Mai tried not to let her surprise show on her face. She tried not to feel anything at all, in fact, despite Azula dangling the bait.

But her stomach churned despite her indifferent mask. What did Zuko do that was so dishonorable that he was forced to duel his own father? Why was he scrounging around for information on the Avatar? Why wouldn’t he just tell her?

Azula surveyed Mai over steepled hands, expecting an answer.

“If you say so,” Mai responded inanely, taking a sip of her tea. She wasn’t one to appreciate boiled leaf water, unlike her boyfriend’s uncle, but the warmth of the beverage was soothing on her nerves.

Not that Mai was nervous. Why would she be nervous after hearing that Zuko’s task was to research the Avatar? The Avatar did not exist anymore. The Fire Nation took care of that. No literature holding data on the Avatar could possibly exist in the Academy’s library. The Fire Nation would have taken care of that, too.

She hated that she wanted to know what he was up to.

The old door creaked open. They weren’t as heavy as the doors of the Great Hall, but Katara still had to shove her way into the small opening that she created.

The library was not as impressive as she imagined. Dust swirled in the slats of sunlight that filtered through the dirt-coated windows. Parts of the towering shelves sat empty, and cobwebs stretched from one scroll to another on the top ledges. Tags were attached to most of the scrolls, though, and Katara breathed a sigh of relief.

She began scanning the first row, running a hand through the dangling labels until she realized she was in the Earth Kingdom section of the library. She moved on to the next shelf. Still Earth Kingdom. The next one— Earth Kingdom again. The row after that— Fire Nation.

Katara’s patience was beginning to thin when she finally found titles that indicated she was in the Water Tribes area. With a silent whoop she eagerly read the tags until she found what she was looking for.

Triumphant, Katara pulled the scroll from the shelf. It was the only waterbending scroll she could find in the entire section, which was already sparse enough to begin with. She unfurled the parchment. Her eyes hungrily pored over the forms and figures, committing what she could to her memory.

If they wouldn’t allow her to learn how to fight, she was going to have to learn by herself. She’d been doing that ever since she promised to keep her waterbending secret.

It’s not like this would be any different.

She forced herself to concentrate on one of the beginner moves illustrated on the scroll. The Water Whip. Even though it was one of the simpler ones, the stances and instructions seemed too complicated for Katara. She needed the details for reference if she wanted to master the simple whip.

Katara looked around. Maybe she could just take the scroll? Somehow, Katara didn’t believe that the Sifus (particularly Sifu Pakku) would take so kindly to her learning waterbending moves on her own.

But she couldn’t just leave the only waterbending scroll here, where anybody could just take it away. What if one of the Water Tribe boys used it for their homework or something? She couldn’t risk losing her only source of useful knowledge for the year.

I should hide it.

But where?

Katara padded down the next row of shelves. The scrolls here were more sparse than the collection of the Water Tribes, their labels almost unreadable due to their wear and tear. Katara guessed these were the Air Nomads’ literature. Had no one really read them after the people had gone? Wasn’t anyone curious of how these people lived? The patterns of dust reveal they were untouched for who knows how long— no, wait.

Some scrolls were missing from the shelves. Katara laid a finger on one blank space, clear of dust. Who was curious about how the Air Nomads lived? She peered around the library— it seemed empty except for her. Whoever the curious soul was, they just took the Air Nomads’ scrolls and left.

Maybe Katara didn’t have to hide her scroll in the library, too.

Chapter Text

The child reached out for her father’s hand. Small fingers grabbed air as he continued to walk ahead without sparing her a second glance.

I did something bad, didn’t I? That’s why you’re leaving me, she whispered into the swirling snow.

Her brother was shouting at her from a distance.

If you weren’t a stupid waterbender, she’d still be alive!

The child heard a smack and stern words from her grandmother, but it was muffled by the wind and snow. Her father was still walking away and there wasn’t anything she could do but look.

Katara woke up gasping into her tear-sodden pillow. She couldn’t quite remember her dream, but it left her with aching loneliness as deep as the ocean.

She gazed blearily at the scene outside her window. The waves lapped the shores in one endless undulating dance, and only the slivers of silver from the reflection of the moon lent color to the seas.

The moon here looks so small , mused Katara, sleepily rolling onto her back and tugging slightly on her blanket. Maybe that’s why waterbenders came from the Poles. Because the moon’s closer to us there.

Back at home, in the cold nights spent huddled between layers of fur, Gran-Gran told her the tales of the first waterbenders, of the Moon Spirit and the Ocean Spirit, of their eternal dance. Push and pull. Life and death. Good and evil, Yin and Yang.

Suddenly, Katara didn’t feel like sleeping anymore. Judging by how high the moon hung in the sky, it was almost past midnight. Which meant everyone would be asleep.

She could finally practice waterbending. She’d been waiting days for the perfect opportunity, and this was it. She silently thanked the spirits for waking her up in the middle of the night with a horrible dream.

Trying to be as quiet as she could despite her excitement, Katara slipped the waterbending scroll from under her pillow and padded out of the Water Tribes’ floor and down into the Great Hall.

The silent stillness of the Academy at midnight magnified the sound of every step she took towards the Western Courtyard. Katara glanced over her shoulder as she reached the archway. The Great Hall remained empty.

She excitedly ran towards the river before the shadow of the shack stopped her. Did Sifu Yugoda sleep in the shack? Would she wake up at the sound of waterbending? Katara wasn’t sure the gushing of the river could mask her attempts at the water whip.

But she had to try.

She trekked upriver, keeping the muddy banks to her left, staying within the shadow of the treeline. The moon wasn’t full yet, but it was enough to illuminate her if Sifu Yugoda did live in the shack and woke up to a noisy, rule-breaking student.

For a minute, Katara let herself get acquainted with her surroundings. The immense granite back wall of the Great Hall was on her far right; even in this distance, even through the trees, the building loomed in the darkness. She hastened farther until she was sure she was level with the Eastern Courtyard.

She hadn’t explored this part of the Academy before in broad daylight, but now, under the dim glow of the moon, it seemed peaceful, beautiful in its stillness— as though it had been untouched and unexplored by anyone else. Katara began to relax.

She found a boulder near the river and deemed it a good enough spot to prop up the waterbending scroll, weighing down the curling edges with loose rocks she found. She took her stance.

Water rushed up to her bidding, curling around her arms. She consulted the scroll for her next position, squinting in the dim light of the moon. A voice interrupted her before she could make her next move.

“What are you doing on our grounds?”

Katara yelped, water falling uselessly with a splash. She whipped around at the direction of the voice.

She almost didn’t see the girl before her; the forest green robes she wore blended with the darkness of the trees, and she stood with such stillness that Katara would have missed her completely if it weren’t for the gleam of her eyes.

“Long Feng and Sifu Fong don’t take kindly to students wandering around at night, you know,” the girl continued, flicking a strand of chin-length hair from her face.

“Why are you out here, then?” Katara challenged, preparing to summon a wave in order to escape.

The girl shrugged and stepped into the moonlight. She looked about Katara’s age, maybe a year older. Her dark blue eyes— they were almost green in the moonlight— assessed Katara suspiciously.

“I wanted to get more training in,” she answered simply. “Why are you out here?”

“I wanted to get more training in,” replied Katara just as simply.

The girl grinned at her. “I can imagine why. From what I hear of Water Tribe training, your Sifu is an old coot. Shame he doesn’t teach girls.”

“I know.” Katara found herself grinning back. “It’s really unfair.”

“I’m Suki.” She bowed slightly as she introduced herself and ventured out into the open, leaving the safety of the shadows behind.

“I’m Katara,” said Katara, holding out her hand. Suki grasped it firmly. A warrior’s grip.

“So. Wanna show me what you’ve got, Katara?” Suki asked, sizing her up with her dark eyes. Katara felt herself deflate a little.

“I actually haven’t got a lot,” she said, averting her gaze. “Not unless you count freezing fish or controlling the snowballs I throw at my brother.”

The other girl covered her giggle with her hand. “No, those don’t count.” She regarded Katara curiously. “How were you planning on training, then?”

Katara gestured at the waterbending scroll. Suki’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline.

“Did you steal that from the library?”

“I didn’t steal it,” said Katara, rolling her eyes. “I’m just borrowing it until I master all the forms.”

Suki laughed heartily at that, before quieting herself down, a smirk still tugging at her lips.  She pulled out a fan from her sleeve. “Alright then. Let’s see some moves, waterbender.”

Katara reviewed the positions quickly, noting when to push and pull at each transition. She’d barely dropped into a half squat when Suki smacked her arm with her folded fan.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Your position’s all wrong,” explained Suki. Katara jutted her jaw defensively. “You gotta keep yourself rooted, otherwise—”

In a swift motion, she sent Katara down with a swing of her legs.

“—you’ll end up like that.” Suki finished her lecture, smiling smugly as she helped Katara to her feet.

It took all of Katara’s determination not to snap at Suki, because for once, someone was actually teaching her how to fight. She took a deep breath and resumed her stance again, this time putting more weight on the balls of her feet.

“Better,” Suki acknowledged. “Now I wanna see some action.”

Katara summoned a tendril of water, shifting into the next position as she formed it into a whip. She sent it slashing in Suki’s direction, but it disintegrated before she could move into the next form.

Suki just watched silently as Katara attempted to form a whip again, and failed again. Brows furrowing in concentration, Katara snaked the water along her arm, only to have it splash to the ground two feet from Suki.

“Why don’t we—” The warrior started, but Katara cut her off.

“I can do it, Suki!”

Suki took her remark in stride. “It doesn’t seem that you can, Katara.”

She stalked a few paces away from her and suddenly whipped her fan in a wide arc. Katara summoned a wave of water to deflect the unusual weapon.

“Hey!”

The fan returned to Suki’s hands, reminiscent of Sokka’s boomerang. Even the girl’s smug smile reminded Katara of her brother.

She didn’t even give her a pause before whirling the fan in her direction again. Katara sent a jet of water in Suki’s direction, but she just stepped nimbly out of the way and caught her weapon in mid-air.

Growling, Katara sent wave after wave towards Suki, but her opponent simply dodged them. She managed to duck Suki’s metal fan before delivering another water jet in the warrior’s direction, only to find out that Suki was already behind her, fan at the ready.

That stupid fan!

“Argh!” She made to grab Suki’s arm to prevent her from throwing it, only to realize, from the other girl’s surprised expression, that she had wrapped a tendril of water around Suki’s slim wrist. The fan fell to the damp earth, the water whip following in droplets.

“I did it!” Katara’s disbelief at her skill faded and giddiness quickly took its place. “I actually did it!”

“That was so cool!” Suki said. Again, her enthusiasm reminded Katara of Sokka whenever he crowed about her “magic water skills”. Katara couldn’t help but laugh delightedly.

“I can’t believe I did it. All it took was me getting annoyed at your fan, Suki,” Katara admitted.

Suki laughed and bent down to grab her weapon. “I’m glad my Kyoshi warrior skills could be of service. Do you think you can do it without having to be challenged to a fight?”

“I think so, yeah,” Katara bent more water, this time not concentrating so much on her form. She let the liquid become a part of her arm before flicking it into a delicate whip. She grinned. “I think the key was— I think it’s just a part of me, you know? It goes where I want it to go.”

“Like an extension of your arm,” Suki supplied, nodding. “That’s what they taught us when handling weapons. One, not separate.”

“One, not separate,” Katara repeated as she drew another whip, this time thicker and longer. She turned to the older warrior solemnly. “Thank you so much.”

Suki smiled warmly at her. “No problem. It was fun sparring a waterbender. They never let us do that. Besides, we girls gotta help each other out, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Katara wiped the sweat on her brow. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, exhaustion was quickly taking its place. She picked up her scroll from the boulder and bent the dampness away. Her muscles groaned in protest.

“We better head back before Long Feng and Fong find us.” Suki put an arm around her jovially. “I don’t know how they mete out detention in the Water Tribes, but I am not cleaning the Earth Kingdom bathrooms on the first week back. It’s like they roll themselves in dirt after they bend. Ew.”

Katara giggled as they made their way back to the Great Hall. She and Suki said their goodbyes at the bottom of the West Wing stairwell.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Suki said with a wave. “Let’s spar again when you learn some new moves. Then I won’t go easy on you.”

“That was you going easy on me?” Katara said in disbelief, but Suki had already disappeared.

Shaking her head amusedly, Katara made her way up to the Water Tribes chambers. It was only when she was at the door that she realized she had no water to bend to open it.

Oh no.

Katara froze in the stairwell. The night remained stock-still and silent, but her heart bounded in her chest, begging her to move .

How can I be so stupid?

Frantic thoughts ran through her head. Maybe she could run back to the river and bring some water to open the door? Her body ached in bone-crushing fatigue; she wasn’t sure she could bend for that long a distance. Maybe she could bang on the door and hope one of her classmates could hear her? It was the middle of the night, and it could alert the Sifus of her nighttime training.

Maybe she could find a place to hunker down until it was safe to come back?

But where?

Katara’s feet dragged her to the third floor of the East Wing before she realized where she was going. She breathed a sigh of relief. The doors of the library were unlocked, and Katara didn’t care about its ominous creak as she trudged in.

She made her way to the far, shadowy corner where the Air Nomads’ literature laid and plunked herself against the wall without a second thought.

There were a lot of things Prince Zuko did not expect to see, and that was saying something, because he was not one to startle easily. But there were few instances that caught him unawares.

One was his uncle relaxing in the hot springs, buck naked in the sunlight, with only the steam and bubbles saving Zuko’s eyes from further torture. Another was the shy smile on Mai’s face when he kissed her for the first time, back in the palace gardens, when he was unscarred and carefree. The last one had been his father, standing on the other end of the of the Agni Kai arena, flames dancing in his dispassionate eyes.

This scene before him was much less harsher than the last time he was surprised, but it was still something unexpected.

What is she doing here at this hour?

She was Water Tribe, Zuko deduced from her blue robes and the dark hand that peeked out from mounds of curly brown hair. She seemed to be younger than him, maybe about Azula’s age, judging by her small stature and skinny frame.

And she was sleeping on the floor of the library.

Zuko scowled as he returned the Air Nomad scrolls he borrowed— not stole— back into their rightful places, careful not to make too much noise. The last thing he needed was some stranger finding out that the Fire Prince was reading up on Air Nomad culture.

He browsed the tags of the scrolls, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom instead of lighting a fire that could awaken the sleeping girl. Idly, he wondered why she wasn’t sleeping in her dormitory, like a normal person would. Did her people throw her out? That seemed unlikely. Uncle always blathered on about the Water Tribes’ “sense of community.” Still, it didn’t stop the lance of pity that shot through Zuko as he surveyed the girl from a distance.

No, Zuko told himself firmly, not everyone is in the same situation as you.

She probably got locked out of her common room after a midnight romp with someone from a different country. Zuko was not surprised. The library was a favorite spot for hot-blooded teenagers who didn’t share the same quarters.

That can’t be right. She looks too young.

But what is she doing here, then?

Deciding that it was a puzzle that wasn’t his responsibility to solve, Zuko turned to the puzzle that did require his attention: capturing the Avatar, and regaining his honor.

If he were being honest with himself, he didn’t fully understand his father’s renewed interest in hunting down the Avatar, when it was a well-known fact that the Fire Nation effectively put an end to the cycle. His great-grandfather had taken care of that— it was a tale of pride passed down to Zuko’s generation.

“There is no indication that the Avatar is even alive, My Lord.”

His father had been livid. He remained motionless in his stony silence, with only the flaring wall of fire indicating his anger. His council cowered on the floor of the throne room. The Fire Lord spoke with clipped conviction.

“I assure you that he is, Commander Ji. We have evidence of movement in the Air Temples.”

It did not surprise Zuko that his father’s words spun the military into action. He was the Fire Lord, the ruler of their world, and Zuko had attended enough council meetings since he came of age a year ago— he knew full well how powerful his father was.

What surprised him was the battalion his father ordered to lead the expedition. The 57th Division was full of green combatants, with as much experience in real battles as Zuko had, which was none.

“ We will draw him out with our forces. Once we determine the extent of his power, we will converge with the Navy, the Army, and the Air Force.”

It was Commander Ji who suggested the ruse— despite the assumed age of the Avatar, the Fire Nation does not send its best and brightest on a mission ill-prepared.

But those who haven’t risen through the ranks yet, oh, those people were expendable to Commander Ji. They could be facing a false lead, or they could be facing their immediate deaths in the hands of the Avatar, the greatest disruptor of peace and unity.

“He’s just one old man, Father, and the last of his people. We don’t need to sacrifice our men for this mission. Surely one squadron— or even one man— is enough to subdue him.”

In the back of his mind, Iroh’s voice scolded, “You never think things through, nephew,” but he did not care for his uncle’s admonishments— until the flames that silhouetted the Fire Lord rose nearly to the ceiling and his father sneered at him, lips pulled back to his teeth.

“Very well, my son. If you believe one man can subdue the Avatar, then bring him to me yourself, and do not show your face until you do. But before that, you must learn respect.”

Zuko growled at the memory, yanking a scroll  off the shelf harder than he meant to. Its neighbors clattered to the floor— the Fire Prince froze, suddenly remembering the peasant girl sleeping not less than five feet from him.

Luckily, the Water Tribe girl did not stir.

Prince Zuko breathed a sigh of relief before borrowing— not stealing— a couple more scrolls from the Air Nomads’ shelf.

The morning after her stint at the river, Katara found herself desperate to learn how to heal, if only to soothe her muscles that practically creak with exhaustion.

She’d woken up way later than she intended; dawn had long passed when she came to. She all but ran to the Water Tribes’ common room, and already she met several students— mostly Fire Nation, and she didn’t know why they were up that early— when she made her way to the opposite wing of the Academy.

Now it was all she could do to keep her eyes open as Sifu Yugoda threaded water through the grooves of the wooden dummy. The glow of the water was mesmerizing to Katara, hypnotizing her, inviting her to sleep like the lullabies her mother used to sing.

It was no surprise that she didn’t notice the lessons were over. Yue’s touch on her shoulder broke her trance. Katara started, noting that her fellow waterbenders were already making their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

“Katara, are you alright?”

Katara rubbed her eyes and tried to stifle a yawn as they joined the other girls. “I’m fine, Yue, really. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

Yue’s blue eyes tightened with concern, but before she could say anything, Gumi’s teasing voice cut her off.

“Oooh, were you up all night missing your boyfriend?”

“W-what?” Katara yelped. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend, then?” Gumi prodded cheekily.

“No!” Katara tried to fight off the blush creeping into her cheeks to no avail. “Why would you think that I’m involved with someone?”

To her horror, it was Sifu Yugoda who answered.

“Your necklace, dear,” the woman explained, pointing at the band around Katara’s neck. “In the North, moonstones are carved and given to your intended. A promise, so to speak, to spend the rest of your lives together.”

“We don’t have that tradition in the South.” Katara’s hands clasped around the stone resting on her throat, suddenly weighed by its implications.

“Well, that’s a shame. It’s incredibly romantic.” Baya said, looping an arm through Yue’s conspiratorially. “How did Hahn give you your necklace, Princess Yue?”

Yue ducked her head uncomfortably, hand delicately touching the ornate necklace around her neck. “At sunset, on the highest point of the palace, overlooking the ocean.”

All the other girls swooned, but based on the princess’s tone and hunched shoulders, Katara didn’t believe that Yue thought it was romantic at all.

“I heard Hahn was one of the best warriors the Academy has ever seen,” one of the twins— Yuka, maybe— said with a twinkle in her eye.

“And he’s so  dreamy! ” The other twin sighed, and the rest of the girls dissolved into giggles.

“Leave it to Princess Yue to snag the best tiger seal in the herd,” Gumi teased, digging an elbow into Yue’s side. The other girl’s lips flattened into a strained smile.

“Oh, don’t worry, Gumi,” Baya said from Yue’s other side as they entered the Great Hall. “There are plenty of koalaotters in the sea.”

“Or a couple of mooselions in the Earth Kingdom,” Gumi nudged Katara, wagging her eyebrows at a group of boys lounging on the Earth Kingdom table. “Ooh, imagine getting mauled by that one.”

Katara followed Gumi’s line of sight and met the sharp eyes of a tan, dark-haired boy who was chewing languidly on a piece of straw. There was something arresting— and wild— about the way he carried himself that sent Katara’s heart hammering. Perhaps it was the simple, tattered black tunic he wore, standing out against the green and gold brocade worn by those around him. Perhaps it was the way he leaned back on the table, crossing his long legs casually, as he examined the twin hook swords resting on his lap. Or perhaps it was the way the corner of his mouth quirked into a lopsided smirk when he saw them lingering. He sent a casual salute in the direction of the girls, making the group— Katara included— giggle and blush.

“Katara!” Suki waved at her from farther down the Earth Kingdom table. Katara shook her attention away from the Earth Kingdom boy. She grinned at Suki and detached herself from the Water Tribe girls, ignoring the surprised and suspicious looks she got from them.

“Come have lunch with us,” Suki said as Katara reached her side. “These are my fellow Kyoshi warriors, Jia and Ling.” Katara looked hesitantly at Suki’s friends and they smiled back at her as hesitantly as she did.

“Are we allowed to have lunch at other tables?” Katara asked, trying not to sound rude. She glanced around the Earth Kingdom table and her eyes landed on the dark-haired, sharp-eyed boy again.

Suki rolled her deep blue-green eyes at her. “Oh, since when do you care about rules?” Katara widened her eyes in warning and Suki raised her hands defensively. “Hey, I was just teasing. The headmaster actually encourages it. Unity, and all that.”

“O-okay…” Katara sat herself down tentatively beside Suki. Her friend, Jia, who was sporting the same chin-length hair, regarded her with curiosity.

“Bender or warrior?” she asked curtly, but not unkindly. She slid a bowl filled with rice and pan-fried elephant koi towards Katara, who caught it before it barrelled off the table.

“Bender,” answered Katara. She’d observed, from her encounter with Suki, that the Kyoshi warriors seemed unwilling to participate in long, meandering conversations.

“You gonna join the benders’ spar after this?” Ling, the other Kyoshi warrior, inquired in a rather reedy voice.

Katara shook her head. “Female waterbenders aren’t trained for combat,” she explained bitterly.

Her answer was met with incredulous huffs from the female warriors, and a miffed “I know, right?” from Suki.

“Hey!” Suki said, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “You can observe them fight, y’know. When they spar later. Maybe you can try out some of their techniques.”

“Yeah,” Jia added thoughtfully. “Just because they don’t teach you doesn’t mean you don’t have to learn anything at all.”

Katara opened her mouth to agree, but a loud explosion echoed from the Eastern Courtyard. Katara and the Kyoshi warriors leapt off the bench and joined the other students scrambling to the windows, eager to see the action.

The Fire Prince and the Fire Princess faced each other in the open space, flames cloaking their fists.

Suki glanced at Katara, who watched the scene with open fear.

“Looks like the benders’ spar started early,” the warrior commented, pursing her lips.

Chapter Text

Zuko barely muffled his growl as Nekhi plopped another bushel of tomato-carrots in front of him. The kitchen help just raised his bushy eyebrows at the prince before taking a swig from his flask.

“Hey, man, you do the crime…” Nekhi began,  but Zuko silenced him with a glare. The older man just raised his hands and wove his way through the cluttered kitchen, away from the angry prince.

“ You do the crime…” Zuko muttered darkly under his breath, aggressively scrubbing the muck from the tomato-carrots. That was just it— he didn’t even start this ‘crime.’ He was just stupid enough to be provoked into acting out; he was just unfortunate enough to be the first one to attack physically.

Taunting someone does not earn you detention. Harsh words do not warrant any punishment.

When will I ever learn.

Even in the Academy, Azula was still the lucky one.

He’d earned two weeks of detention— two weeks scrubbing pans and dusting windows and doing other equally degrading tasks— while his sister walked away with no consequence. And everyone acted as though he deserved it. What kind of brother— what kind of prince — turned on his own sister like that?

But he didn’t really care about the whispers that followed him anymore. His reputation had been burned to ashes ever since he was marked by his own father. Of course anything else he did would just be fodder to the flames.

What irked him was how this foolish activity derailed his plans on locating the Avatar. Even though his punishment sent him to the library to dust the shelves, he barely had the time to read through Air Nomad scrolls.

On top of all that, he and Mai weren’t speaking. Again.

He can’t wait for this to be over.

All of this. All because he couldn’t tune his wretched sister out. All because he let her goad him into a fight.

It started out innocently enough. He and Mai were lounging on one of the stone benches in the Eastern Courtyard after they ate lunch. They shared a moon peach for dessert, and Mai had been complaining about the color of the fuzzy fruit while Zuko listened, amused at how she hated the world.

“You guys really missed each other over the summer, huh?”

Ty Lee sauntered over to them, all smiles and frills, with Azula trailing closely behind.

“You could’ve come home, you know, instead of spending your summer here with Uncle,” his sister said, feigning concern. “ Then Mai would have had an excuse to go to the Palace.”

“Leave me alone, Azula.”

That had been his usual retort to all her insinuating words. It usually worked.

His sister feigned a pout.

“Oh, Zuzu. You don’t have to act like this. It’s not like Father banished you. He just said that if you didn’t agree with his methods of finding the Avatar, you should go look for him yourself. He just wanted you to learn respect, that’s all.”

Then he burned me in front of the whole country. His most loyal son. Zuko thought bitterly. His fingers bruised the delicate skin of the moon peach he held, its juices trickling into his palm.

“You know,” Azula continued, “ I’m pretty sure if he finds out how hard you’ve been working, he’ll throw a feast for your homecoming. Wouldn’t that be nice, Mai? A party, just like the old times.”

Beside him, Mai stiffened ever so slightly, but her face remained in an unaffected mask.

“ I never enjoyed parties,” Mai drawled, and Zuko smiled gratefully at her. At least someone was on his side.

“ Oh well,” Azula replied, examining her nails, “ If Zuko’s luck followed him to this mission, you’d never have to attend a party with him anymore. Your father wouldn’t want you to be seen with a prince with no honor.”

The words cut through Zuko like a blast of fire to the chest. He glanced at Mai, hoping she will side with him again with that same bored tone, hoping she will deny Azula’s words and tell her he wasn’t a disgrace, that her father doesn’t control her actions, that she didn’t care how the Fire Nation nobility thought so little him.

But Mai wouldn’t look at him, and it hurt Zuko more because her silence meant he’d have to face Azula alone.

He tried to block Azula’s remarks. Azula always lies.

“It’s a wonder you still think you can succeed in this mission, Zuzu. Then again, spending time with uncle must’ve taught you the ways of tea and failure.”

Despite his resentment towards the old man, Zuko felt flames lick his hands, charring the moon peach to a crisp.

Mai stood up mutely and took her place beside Ty Lee. A stab of shame flitted through Zuko, but it was quickly mashed down by his resentment towards his girlfriend. She was supposed to have his back, all the time , not just when it’s easy.

Agni, I stood up to Father and I accepted the consequences. Taking my side against Azula’s  has less repercussions than that.

And here he was again, accepting the consequences as best he could, even though it irritated him that it wasn’t his fault in the first place.

No, it’s your fault, the small voice in the back of his head chided. Everything’s your fault. If you were stronger, if you didn’t let her get to you, if you kept your mouth shut in front of the Council, if you’d listened to Uncle Iroh about thinking things through—

“New blood comin’ in!” Nekhi announced from the doorway, leading two girls into the kitchens.

Zuko glanced up at the newcomers, a Water Tribe girl and an Earth Kingdom warrior he’d dueled before, both of whom didn’t appear the least bit apologetic at earning detention. He continued scrubbing the filth off the tomato-carrots with water, paying them no mind as they whispered to each other.

“I can’t believe we got caught,” Katara mumbled to Suki as they entered the kitchens. The Fire Prince, who was slapped with detention after his attack on his sister, stood a few paces away. She eyed him warily. Katara was still admittedly scared of the way he’d blasted fire at the Fire Princess— she’d known how violent firebenders could be, but witnessing it up close added the image to her recurring nightmares.

Sokka would never do that to her, even when she really pissed him off. The only time she and her brother were truly at each other’s throats was after they sent their mother’s body away into the sea. Even then, he hadn’t laid a hand on her, even after Gran-Gran released him from her wizened hands.

But maybe things worked differently in Fire Nation families. Maybe it was acceptable for kin to hurt each other.

After all, violence is in their blood.

“We’re lucky it was Zei who found us,” Suki replied in an equally low voice. “Otherwise we’d have gotten more than three days of kitchen duty.”

“Thank the spirits for his love of learning,” muttered Katara. Suki hid her giggle behind her hand.

They’d been sparring at midnight for over a week when Sifu Zei decided the full moon was the best time to examine the night-blooming flora that scattered the woods of the Academy. He didn’t seem particularly miffed about the waterbending scroll in Katara’s possession (“ I understand the thirst for knowledge, little lady,”) or the fact that an Earth Kingdom student under his care was out of bed (“ Did the secrets of the night call out to you as well?”) , but he still sent them to detention the day after.

“You think we’d be able to sneak out after this?” Katara asked her companion as she washed her hands in a large metal tub. Suki followed her, frowning.

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’re gonna have to lay low for a bit. Maybe we can give it a go on music night, when everyone’s distracted.”

The words drifted to Zuko and he couldn’t help but groan at the mention of ‘music night’. The Water Tribe girl stiffened at the sound and glanced at him, but he continued cleaning the vegetables in the basin as nonchalantly as he could, keeping his back to them.

Katara lowered her voice before asking, “What’s music night?”

Suki let out a bark of laughter as she reached for a paring knife. “It’s this thing the Headmaster does at least twice a month. It’s incredibly fun or incredibly horrifying, depending on who you ask.”

Katara peeked at the Fire Prince working at his station. Based on the groan he’d let out, she was betting he was one of the latter. She worked on peeling a potato, mulling the options.

“You’re sure no one would notice if we spar on music night?” she wondered as she tossed her handiwork into a bowl filled with saltwater.

Suki tossed another peeled potato into the bowl. “If they did, no one would care. All the Sifus would be hopped up on cactus juice.”

A snort escaped from Zuko before he could stop it. The two girls glared at him for his intrusion.

“It’s rude for a young man to eavesdrop on unsuspecting ladies, Your Highness,” Suki said airily, and Katara felt her admiration for the older girl flare.

“It’s fairly easy to overhear your plans when you chatter as loud as hog monkeys , ” Zuko snapped back.

“Wow, I never expected a prince to be this rude,” muttered Katara as she poked an eye out of a potato.

“What was that, peasant? ” snarled Zuko, the murky water he was elbow-deep in heating considerably. If he didn’t calm down, all the tomato-carrots would be cooked before Nekhi could put them in the stew.

Katara raised her eyebrows at him, affecting innocence. “I didn’t say anything, Your Highness. Your hearing was perfectly fine when you were eavesdropping on us; surely you must have heard if I said anything.”

Suki sniggered appreciatively. Zuko grumbled and scrubbed the last of the tomato-carrots with more ferocity than required. He wiped his hands on a dish rag and stomped from the kitchens, not even bothering to glare at them when they struck up their conversation loudly as he left.

I can’t believe I have to endure those twittering girls on top of everything else.

“Remind me again why you landed your butt in detention?” Sokka whined painfully.

It was her second night of kitchen duty, and Sokka had only found out when she walked towards the stone stairwell going down into the kitchens. The night before, he had been conspicuously busy making Yue laugh with his antics and just assumed his sister went to bed early.

Katara peered around the bottom of the stairwell before hissing, “Because I was practicing waterbending at midnight, Sokka.”

Her brother threw his hands up. “Great! Just great! Dad’s gonna have my hide for this, Katara! You promised you’d stay out of trouble!”

“That is precisely why you won’t tell Dad about this,” countered Katara, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve already written him that we’re both fine. So unless you want me to tell him about your boomerang incident, you’ll keep your trap shut about this, okay?”

Sokka frowned at her, deliberating. “ Fine. But no more midnight waterbending for you, missy!”

“Nope. Can’t promise that.” She rolled her eyes when he started to protest. “They don’t teach us anything but healing, Sokka. And I can’t heal anything, so I’m learning other things through other means. Imagine if no one taught you how to use your boomerang and your spear and your sword. What would you do?”

Her brother opened his mouth but closed it again in acquiescence. Katara grinned at him.

“If you’re so worried, you can tag along, y’know. Suki’s probably tired of me fumbling an ice spear. You two can spar while I learn the forms.”

“Suki?” Sokka asked curiously.

“Yeah?” Suki’s voice called from the hallway below them.

Katara smirked at Sokka before grabbing his wrist and dragging him along the stone passageway. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

“Fine. And I am curious about where all the food is made,” he grumbled as they turned the corner. “Can you sneak some food out or will you get in more trouble for that?”

“Ah, you must be the ever-hungry brother Katara told me about,” Suki said, by way of greeting. She planted her hands on her hips as she regarded Sokka. “Our training sessions will reach nobody’s ears, or I’ll crush you into pulp, got it?”

“Jeez, there’s no way I’d let a girl beat me up,” Sokka scoffed and matched her glare. “But hey, you’re welcome to try.”

“Sokka!” Katara scowled, but Suki held a hand up.

“If I recall, I actually beat you every time we sparred, Boomerang Boy, ” Suki challenged, lips quirking. “Though I admit, it would be nice to see you try to bring me down, for once. Seemed like you were holding back because I was a girl. ”

Sokka sputtered. “I wasn’t holding back!”

“Oh, so you just weren’t strong enough to beat me, then,” Suki shrugged dismissively. Sokka bristled, opening and closing his mouth as he thought of a comeback.

“C’mon, Katara,” Suki said, looping her arm through hers and effectively ignoring whatever retort Sokka planned to say, “Let’s go in before Nekhi and Zhou Qi catch us loitering with your brother.”

“Tui forbid they make him do the laundry when he can’t even wash his own socks,” Katara spared her brother a smirk before turning away. They heard him sputter before stalking up the stairs.

Inside the kitchen, dishes were piled high on the counters and a tub of soapy water was waiting for them.

“Huh, looks like the Fire Prince won’t be joining us tonight,” Katara commented, knocking leftovers from plate into a bin.

Suki scoffed. “Probably pulled some strings with the Headmaster to get out of detention early. The old man favors him more than his sister, seems like.”

Katara scrunched up her face. “Families in the Fire Nation are weird.”

“Oh, don’t get me started on Headmaster Iroh and the Fire Lord,” Suki agreed, drying the plate Katara handed her. “I cannot believe those two are related.”

“I know!” Katara remarked emphatically, remembering her impression of the elderly man at the welcome feast. “Iroh seems so kind, even though he is a bit… eccentric.”

Suki snorted. “Eccentric is a good word for it. Although I’m not sure about the ‘kind’ part…”

“Why? What did he do?” prompted Katara.

“He still keeps the Fire Lord counsel,” Suki shrugged. “I heard over the summer that he was the one who let slip that the Avatar might still be alive.”

Katara paused mid-bending, soapy water hovering over the plate she was cleaning. “What? How? Didn’t Sozin kill the last Avatar? If he was reincarnated somehow, shouldn’t he have stopped the war already?”

Again, Suki shrugged, pushing her auburn hair from her face. “Dunno. All I heard is that the Fire Lord’s gathering forces to hunt him down again.”

Katara set the plate down and faced Suki fully. “How do you know all this?”

“Kyoshi Island tried to stay out of the war as long as we could, but once we decided to get involved,” the older girl smirked, “We dove in head first and took no chances.”

“Ready for a rematch, firebender?” The Southern Water Tribe boy was boisterous, arrogant from his last win. Zuko glared at him.

He despised sparring with the non-benders. It was below him. And he particularly hated being pitted against the boy with the boomerang again. That loss was humiliating, and even though most of his classmates seemed to forget after a week, he held onto that feeling of shame and used it to fuel his other fights.

Zuko never forgot every instance of his own failure. His father never let him forget, so why should he?

He unsheathed his dao swords, waiting for the other boy to strike.

Sokka was, admittedly, not prepared to be facing off with the firebender again. He can bluster up all the fake courage he has to save face, but he was downright frightened. What if the guy broke the rules? If he could risk detention just to attack his own sister, surely he’d have no problem burning Sokka to a crisp if he humiliated him again.

He glanced around the crowd that gathered to watch, all the students waiting their turn. He caught a glimpse of white hair and caught Yue’s worried eyes.

Great, at least I’m not the only one who thinks I’m toast.

But he was a wolf of the tundra, a warrior of the Southern Water Tribes, and their people did not let Fire Nation scum get away unscathed. He will be damned if he let down his people.

He slid his sword from its scabbard, grinning tauntingly at the Fire Prince. No, he wasn’t going to be the idiot with a boomerang in this match.

Zuko tried not to let the surprise show on his face when he saw the boy hold out his sword. No boomerang this time? Well, he could work with that.

Piandao raised his hand to start the match, and the Water Tribe boy was immediately on the offensive, weaving around Zuko as steel clashed against steel. He’d only had time to sweep the sword away before the boy appeared on his other side, blade nearly cutting through his middle, forcing Zuko to jump back.

Sokka took advantage of the opening and lunged forward, but the Fire Prince smirked a split second before twisting his sword out of his grasp with his twin weapons. He thrust one blade beneath Sokka’s chin triumphantly.

“Yield.”

“Nope.”

Sokka swept the prince’s legs and grabbed his sword, jumping onto a stone bench as Zuko aimed for his midriff. He stumbled along the length of the bench as the firebender launched relentless attacks.

“Hey, hey! Simmer down, Hotman,” cried Sokka as their swords met with a clang. He spied the end of the bench from the corner of his eye. Seems like the prince was forcing him back on the ground.

Not gonna happen.

Sokka pushed himself to the opposite end of the bench. To his surprise, Zuko leapt onto the bench as well, brandishing his dao swords.

The Water Tribe boy stood his ground. Each of Zuko’s attacks and follow-throughs were blocked, clumsily but quickly. Two blades cut through the air in front of his face and his legs, and he teetered backwards onto the grass.

“ Ow!”

Zuko jumped down from the bench and approached his opponent, who was clutching his wrist and howling in pain.

“Are you al—”

“Sokka!”

The noisy girl from detention practically shoved Zuko aside as she and the Northern Water Tribe princess made their way towards the boy on the ground. Zuko backed away slowly, sheathing his swords and melting into the crowd as Piandao and his classmates surrounded the Water Tribe warrior.

He won this match, but he didn’t feel any victory.

“Bring him to Yugoda’s hut,” the stern-looking swordmaster directed Katara and Yue as Sokka whimpered. He squeezed Sokka’s shoulder before turning towards the other students.

Katara caught a glimpse of the Fire Prince in the crowd. She shot him her most venomous look. First he ditched detention and left them with a tipsy Nekhi, then he went out of his way just to prove he was a better swordsman?

Even for a firebender, he was particularly cruel. She should have known that when she saw him attack his own sister.

“It was a good fight, Sokka,” Yue said, once they were in the shade of the Great Hall. Sokka just groaned, leaning into her more than necessary.

“Spirits, getting him to Yugoda’s shack would be easier if airbenders were still around to fly us there,” Katara grumbled under her breath. Yue shushed her, casting a fearful look around.

“I can at least try to ease the pain, Sokka,” the older girl said. But Sokka only shook his head.

“Tui and La,” Katara rolled her eyes at her brother. “This isn’t the time to act all manly and tough, Sokka. You might’ve broken your arm!”

“I’m fine, sis,” hissed Sokka in a tone that clearly said he was not fine.

“Alright then, big bro, if you’re really fine, then we don’t have to bring you to Sifu Yugoda.”

“Katara!” Yue exclaimed, eyes wide. Katara quickly realized that the princess might not be familiar with how callous she sounded when she was teasing her brother.

“Sorry, Sokka,” she muttered, wrapping an arm around her brother and letting him lean into her as they walked.

“Glad to hear it,” Sokka replied through gritted teeth.

A few paces away from the cabin, Katara gasped and tugged at her brother. Both he and Yue stopped, and Katara knelt down to tug off his left boot.

“He cut you!”

Sokka regarded the dark stain seeping through the blue fabric of his pant leg. He shrugged. “It’s not that deep, Katara. It’ll heal after a bit, don’t worry.”

“But it’s a lot of blood!” Katara exclaimed, rolling up his pants to examine the cut. The red line gaped just above the place where his pants were tucked into his boots. She looked up at her brother, worrying her lower lip.

Yue sighed. “We better get you to Yugoda faster, Sokka.”

The healing master seemed more than ready to accept patients, already sitting at the porch with her earthen jugs of water close. Katara figured this was a common occurrence during combat training.

“How did this happen, young man?” Yugoda asked, not unkindly. She gloved Sokka’s wrist with glowing water, assessing the damage. Sokka groaned.

“I was battling the Fire Prince—” he started, but Katara cut off the long-winded explanation with a simple, “He fell from a bench, Sifu.”

Yugoda nodded absently. “Your wrist is fractured. It might take a few sessions before it heals completely. Is this your sword hand?”

Sokka shook his head with a relieved sigh.

“He’s still bleeding pretty bad, though,” Katara commented, gesturing at her brother’s bloodied leg.

“We will patch that up later, Katara,” the healer assured her softly. Katara started to protest, that maybe Yue could heal it while the master worked on Sokka’s wrist, but Yugoda sent her inside the hut to grab bandages and a splint.

Yugoda busied herself with Sokka’s wrist, enlisting Yue’s help halfway through the process. Katara wrung her hands, feeling utterly useless amid the flurry of movements and waterbending.

Staying stationary while her brother was hurt would drive her insane. She summoned a whip of water from a jug and wrapped it around Sokka’s leg wound.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He lifted his leg away from her, disrupting Yugoda and Yue’s bending. “What’re you doing? You said you can’t heal yet!”

“I know! B-but…” she glanced at Yugoda, who smiled thinly at her. They both knew how far behind she was on their lessons. “I still wanna try, Sokka. Please?”

“I will not be your practice dummy! What if your magic water ends up hurting me—”

“Oh, quit being such a baby and let me—” she yanked his ankle with her water whip, oblivious to the stares she got from Yue and Yugoda, and firmly clothed his wound with water, beyond caring if nothing would happen, she just wanted the horrible bleeding to stop—

“What just happened?” Sokka croaked.

Katara blinked at the fading blue light underneath her fingertips.

Chapter Text

Perhaps it was because she was now so busy, what with actually paying attention to her healing lessons on top of all the midnight training sessions, but Katara could hardly believe it when she realized she’s already been at the Academy three months.

The weeks had gone by without incident— she and Suki, and sometimes Sokka once his injury healed, snuck out almost every night, and Katara had so far perfected the water whip, the water jet, water bullets, and her usual wave in lieu of a shield.

Currently, she was practicing the octopus form, an entry about halfway down the list of techniques in her waterbending scroll, and Suki and Sokka’s participation in her training proved useful in testing her control of the multiple arms of the stance.

Useful, but annoying, thought Katara. Tonight, she arrived by the river earlier than usual, steeling herself for the onslaught of attacks from the two warriors. It amazed Katara how well they worked as a team, and despite their introduction going off on the wrong foot, both of them seemed to have struck a mutual understanding to learn from each other. And drill Katara to the bones.

Thus Katara’s early start. She rolled up her leggings and resolutely waded into the shallow part of the river. Tentacles of water rose up to the command of her outstretched arms, and she stood there, trying to get used to the  curious feeling of having eight extensions of her limbs—

Bam.

She jumped out of the river at the unmistakable roar of rocks falling, her octopus form morphing into two water whips. She stood at attention on the riverbank, looking around for some evidence of a non-snow version of an avalanche— did those happen in the Fire Nation?— but the sound was too near to be coming from the mountains.

Bam.

The ground shook underneath her and she  backed a few paces from the muddy banks until her feet planted firmly on compacted dirt.

Bam.

Fairly sure there wasn’t a natural disaster hurtling towards her, she walked cautiously in the direction of the sound. Maybe it was someone earthbending?

It was someone earthbending.

A boy, several years older than her— he looked vaguely familiar, but Katara reasoned that she had eaten enough lunches with Suki at the Earth Kingdom table that almost every person there looked familiar to her by now. She’d even gotten to know Jet, that attractive boy that the Northern Water Tribe girls fawned over, even though Suki didn’t approve of him and his friends hanging around the Kyoshi warriors.

But this earthbender— he wasn’t part of Jet’s rambunctious entourage. Katara hadn’t noticed him except for a fleeting glance, maybe. But here he was flinging boulders from one point to another in the dead of the night, and Katara’s curiosity got the better of her.

Ignoring the voice in her head that sounded inexplicably like her brother (“ He looks dangerous, so we better approach cautiously,"  Sokka’s voice said), Katara all but shouted, “Hello there! I’m Katara. What’s your name?”

The boy gasped, his long hair swinging as he whipped around the face her. He disintegrated the boulder he was bending to gravel and ran swiftly to the Eastern Courtyard.

“I just wanted to say hi,” Katara muttered to his fleeting figure and frowned. What was he so afraid of? They were both illegally practicing in the middle of the night. And it would’ve been nice to have another bender to train with. She was getting sick of Suki and Sokka’s weapons.

She and Zuko still weren’t speaking. Mai clutched her comb until her knuckles turned white against her pale flesh.

“Maybe if you just talked to him…”

Mai shot Ty Lee a look in the mirror. No. The Fire Nation had to freeze over before she spoke to Zuko first. He started it, he should end it. Ty Lee didn’t understand.

Mai never pined over someone who didn’t want her around. Mai never begged for attention from someone who clearly didn’t want to give it.

And Agni be damned, if Zuko wanted to challenge her to a contest of stubbornness and pride, he was a fool for thinking he would win against her.

It still hurts that she doesn’t know why they weren’t talking in the first place, though.

Maybe she knew, back when this battle of wills started. Maybe it was Azula’s taunting that started it. Maybe it was the truth behind her honeyed words. Maybe Mai didn’t want to think about how doomed her relationship with Zuko was after his Agni Kai.

Maybe it was my fault.

Zuko never closed himself off like this if he thought he was in the wrong. He usually sought her out. Well, usually was back at the start of their fledgling relationship, back when she was ecstatic that her childhood crush even noticed her, back when he didn’t have that scar that made him want to be brood all the time.

She didn’t even mind the scar. She just hated that it made him act like an entirely different person. That it made him act as though he didn’t care about her.

They usually read each other so well that Mai didn’t feel guilty about hiding her emotions, because he always knew how she felt. And even that was gone, now.

She sighed and relinquished her grip on the comb. Ty Lee was still hovering at her shoulder, concerned.

“Maybe I will talk to him,” Mai muttered under her breath, trying not to let her annoyance at groveling for attention seep through the flatness of her voice. Ty Lee clasped her hands happily and she cut the acrobat off. “But not tonight.”

Her friend nodded, but her smile was still bright with hope.

It’s not like I know where he goes at this hour, Mai thought bitterly to herself, hating how much she wanted to know. How much she wanted him to just tell her.

“Nephew.”

Zuko didn’t even acknowledge his uncle standing in the dimly-lit library. He just continued to pore over Air Nomad text with the aid of a single lamp.

“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live,” Iroh continued, long robes whispering against the stone floors as he approached the Fire Prince. “A man needs his rest.”

“I’ll rest when I’ve found the Avatar,” Zuko said, his voice hoarse from hours— or maybe days, he wasn’t sure he’d spoken to anyone recently— of disuse. The flame in the lantern flared up ever so slightly.

Uncle Iroh rested a warm hand on his shoulder. “Prince Zuko, this quest your father has sent you on is nothing but a farce. Surely, you must know that. One person cannot face this hunt alone.”

“I’m still going to try, Uncle,” Zuko glared at  his uncle pointedly, as though any semblance of inaction was a crime. “I have to. I have no choice if I want to regain my honor.”

“You never lost your honor, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said gravely. “What you’re trying to regain is your father’s approval.”

Fire licked the glass walls of the lantern as Zuko shook off Iroh’s hand from his shoulder. “So what if I am?”

“I am not saying it’s wrong to seek his approval, nephew,” Iroh conceded gently. “But a man in a desert must know the difference between a mirage and an oasis, just as a war strategist must know which battles need to be fought.”

“All battles need to be fought,” murmured Zuko absently, returning his attention to the scrolls.

Iroh sighed.

“What have you found out so far, Prince Zuko?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the incessant pounding in his head.

“I’m starting to think that maybe the Avatar died years ago and we’re looking in the wrong place,” he admitted grudgingly. “Whoever told Father of the activities in the Air Temples must’ve been leading him on a wild goose chase. And I got roped into it.”

Something akin to shame flashed in Iroh’s eyes as he surveyed his nephew hunched over scrolls. The two spent several minutes in silent contemplation until the Headmaster broke it, his voice barely above a whisper.

“My brother has doomed himself with his mistakes,” he observed. “I sincerely hope you soon see the light in this darkness, nephew. He is your father, but you are no longer a child terrorized by a madman. You are an honorable young man who is very much capable of rising above the Fire Lord’s thirst for power. You do not need his approval to know what is right.”

The Fire Prince kept his gaze obstinately trained on the text before him, but he did not read a single word of it.

“Mourn the loss of the love you never received, my nephew, but do not let it goad you into chasing something that doesn’t exist.”

“The wars between the two kingdoms of Ba Sing Se and Omashu wreaked havoc in the world, and so Fire Lord Sozin took it upon himself to unite these two nations…” Zei intoned from his books, barely looking up at the restless class.

History lessons from the Academy were all Fire Nation propaganda, Jet had told her during their first class. Katara couldn’t decide if she was thrilled to find him instead of Suki in her history class— apparently, with the  sheer volume of Earth Kingdom children, half took History lessons from Zhao, and half were under Zei.

Katara tried to look on the bright side (aside from Jet’s presence). At least it was Zei teaching them, not a man from the Fire Nation.

She still couldn’t stomach the information they fed her, though.

In one of their earlier lessons, Zei read from accounts from Fire Nation historians— as if those filthy conquerors even took the time to learn about our culture — depicting the Southern Water Tribe as inferior and backwards and barbaric. It was enough to send her into a heated argument that, in the eyes of her Northern Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom classmates, proved the Southerners were, in fact, inferior and backwards and barbaric.

Katara learned to bite her tongue after that.

While it was true that the Southern and Northern Water Tribes were sisters, the Northern Water Tribes cultivated a sort of disdain on the Southerners. Their version of how the Southern Water Tribe came to be was because one of their own princesses was banished for consorting with a lowly fisherman. In the Southern version, the princess ran away because she couldn’t stomach the rules that her nation forced upon her, and together she and the fisherman built a life for themselves, free of constraints, in the  tundras of the South.

But to the Fire Nation scholars, there was no difference between them.

Katara didn’t know why her Northern classmates weren’t as indignant as she was. Their history lessons often portrayed their customs wrong— the only thing they got right, it seemed, was how the Northern Water Tribe ranked women lower than the men. Katara felt vindicated at that.

Right now though, as Sifu Zei monotonously droned on about the benefits of the Fire Nation taking over the world— he didn’t seem to believe what he was reading, even after years of teaching— it was all Katara could do to stay awake. The afternoon heat, coupled with the shade of the classroom and her fullness from lunch, made a great recipe for drowsiness.

Five more minutes. Five more minutes before class ends, Katara chanted to herself.

Her eyes flitted from one object to another, desperate for something to keep her eyelids from drooping shut, when they alighted on the brown-haired boy from the night before.

I knew he was familiar.

The thump of Zei’s tome closing signaled the end of the class, and with a collective scraping of chairs the students stood up, chatting amongst themselves. Katara ran after the long-haired earthbender as he slipped into the corridor.

“Hey!” She caught up with him as he walked to the Great Hall. “You’re that kid. Why did you run away before?”

“Uh…” His eyes widened with recognition and fear. “You must have me confused with some other kid.”

“No, I don’t,” she insisted. She lowered her voice, hoping he wouldn’t run away again. “I saw you earthbending.”

The boy stumbled to a stop and shushed her, looking around frantically at their classmates milling toward the Great Hall. Katara waited patiently as he deliberated.

Finally he led her to the opposite end of the corridor and sat by a large, arched window. He crossed his arms as he assessed her suspiciously. Katara twisted her fingers behind her back, offering him a small, encouraging smile.

“I’m Haru,” he began after a few heartbeats. “What did you say your name was?”

She practically beamed. “I’m Katara.”

“Soooo,” Suki sauntered up to her at dinner, sitting herself down at the Water Tribes table. “Why were you all cozied up with Haru at lunch?”

Katara blushed and poked at her sea prunes, actively avoiding her friend’s gaze. It didn’t save her from Suki’s questions, though.

“He’s cute, huh?” she asked, edging closer to the flustered waterbender. “He’s really quiet and keeps to himself, but he’s nice.”

“Who’s nice?” Sokka asked from further down the table. Beside him, Yue perked up in interest.

“Nobody!” Katara squeaked, pinching Suki below the table. The older girl just laughed and brushed her off.

“Katara’s got a boyfriend,” Suki teased, making Katara blush even harder.

“He’s not—! We were just—”

“Oooh, who is it?” Gumi piped up from Yue’s other side. “Is it Jet?”

Katara felt the heat spread to her ears and neck. “No! Why would you even think that?”

Gumi shrugged, her blue eyes wide. “He’s always sitting next to you in History and you’re always hanging out with Earth Kingdom kids.”

Suki chuckled mischievously. “Whoa, didn’t know you were such a man-killer, Katara!”

“I’m not! Jet’s not interested in me that way—”

“Is it the tall, silent archer?” Baya joined the conversation, and even her brother, Akkad, peered at Katara curiously. Katara stopped herself from banging her head against the table.

“Can we not talk about my sister’s boyfriends at dinner? You guys are ruining my appetite! ” Sokka gagged, and Katara thanked the spirits that they gave her Sokka as a brother.

As the others drifted to other topics, Suki leaned towards Katara conspiratorially. “So, why were you and Haru all alone in the Eastern corridor?”

Katara made sure the people around them were occupied before explaining in a low voice, “I caught him earthbending in secret last night. I thought it would be nice to have another bender to train with, but he ran away before I could ask. Then I saw him in History class, so I talked to him about it.”

Suki’s lips tightened, as though she was fighting off a grin. “So you’re going to train with him at night?”

Katara narrowed her eyes. “ We’re going to train with him at night,” she corrected, eyes flicking to her brother, who was busy laughing with Yue. “If you guys are okay with it.”

“Sure, Katara,” the Kyoshi warrior clapped a hand on Katara’s shoulder as she stood up to leave. “But, whew! Boy, am I tired. I may have to skip tonight. I think Sokka’s tired, too.”

“Suki!” hissed Katara, but her friend was already walking away.

“We need to talk.”

Mai’s words sliced through the muted air in the library and her stiletto knife punctured the scroll that Zuko hunched over.

He didn’t acknowledge her. He merely wrenched the knife away and thumbed the hole in the aged vellum, as though a touch would repair the rip.

Mai had had enough. “What’s your problem, Zuko?”

Zuko clenched his fists. He was the one with the problem? She was the one who didn’t talk to him after he got detention. She was the one who took his sister’s side and proved all his suspicions correct. She was the one who left him to face his sister alone.

She was the one who didn’t fight for their relationship, and now she has the gall to ask him what his problem was?

“You,” Zuko spat out. “You’re the problem.”

“Me.” Mai’s tone was devoid of any emotion, but her heart was pounding in her ears. “Sure, I’m the problem. You just can’t do anything wrong, can you, Zuko?”

She picked up her knife from the table and stalked away, gritting her teeth at Ty Lee’s suggestion of talking it out. Talking never solved things.

Zuko ran a hand down his face as Mai’s footsteps receded.

I can’t do anything right.

“What’s your village like?” Katara asked, a thick cord of water hoving between her palms. She’d easily found Haru at the spot where she saw him the night before, but this time he was not lifting boulders, just bending two stones to circle each other in his hand.

Whatever Suki said, it was nice to have another bender to train with.

"It’s a small one. Everybody knows everybody, and it’s crawling with Fire Nation soldiers,” Haru explained, easily evading Katara’s water whips.

“Are all Earth Kingdom villages like that?” Suki hadn’t been quite informative on the Earth Kingdom— Kyoshi Island was far from the mainland, and it seemed quite well-protected by its combative inhabitants.

“Most of them, yes. There are more soldiers if a place has more uses for the Fire Nation. Fire Lord Ozai uses our town's coal mines to fuel his ships," Haru elaborated, waiting for her to make her move. For a sparring partner, he didn’t attack as much as Katara expected. "The Fire Nation soldiers— they're thugs, they steal from us, and everyone there was too much of a coward to do anything about it.”

“But why?” She sent a jet of water towards him, but he merely sidestepped it.

Again, the earthbender shrugged. “They’re afraid of getting sent to the labor camps, or their house burning down. I guess I can understand it. Me and my mom barely had enough to get by without those thugs stealing all the money we make just so they could drink themselves to oblivion. We didn’t need to provoke them even more, especially after the stunt Dad pulled.”

“What did your dad do?” Katara asked curiously, all thoughts of sparring leaving her head.

“Dad and other earthbenders attacked the Fire Nation regiment when they arrived in our village. They were outnumbered ten to one, but they fought back anyway.” A ghost of a smile flitted over Haru’s face before a grimace replaced it entirely. “They sent him to a Fire Nation rig.”

“That’s awful!” cried Katara. When her own father left, at least it was on his own volition— although that in itself wasn’t much of a consolation. Haru drew a fissure in the earth beneath her feet, and she remembered they were still fighting. Katara flung a wave at him and he launched himself in the air with an earth column.

He landed a few feet shy of Katara with a thud. “That’s why Mom said I must never use my abilities, because earthbending’s caused nothing but misery for our village,” he continued gloomily.

Droplets of water hovered in midair as Katara processed his words.

Remember your promise, sweetie. Never use your bending in front of strangers.

“How could she say that?” Katara felt her own frustration fuel the volume of her voice. “You have a gift! Asking you not to earthbend is like asking me not to waterbend. It’s a part of who we are!”

Haru grinned wistfully at her. “You remind me of my dad. That’s exactly something he would say.”

“Uh, thanks,” Katara flushed and busied herself with trying to harness the octopus form as Haru patiently waited.

She managed to form all eight tentacles and stand her ground, but one timid rock punch from Haru took it all down. Katara moaned and actually stomped her feet.

“Sorry!” Haru exclaimed sheepishly.

Katara grinned apologetically at her childishness. “Hey, it’s not your fault. I probably have to master that form before whipping it out in a match.”

“You were doing good with your other moves,” he encouraged. “I’ve never seen a girl fight with waterbending before. You’re very graceful.”

“Thank you, Haru.” Katara looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling very timid. She sneaked a peak at him and he seemed furiously attentive to a piece of rock at his feet.

Haru cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, it’s getting late…”

Katara nodded vigorously. “Yeah. We better get going. See you around?”

He offered her a shy smile and turned to go.

Katara watched his retreating back for a few moments, fiddling with the end of her braid until the heat from her cheeks cooled slightly, then left in the opposite direction.

Her spar with Haru left her so flustered that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching until a smooth, clear voice rang through the Great Hall.

“Well, look what we have here,” the Princess of the Fire Nation leaned against the archway Katara had just passed through. “Out for a stroll, are we, water peasant?”

Katara froze. She barely knew the Princess. The extent of her knowledge on the Fire Nation royalty was a vague recollection that her brother had attacked her unduly, back when classes were starting, and the fact that at benders’ battles, Princess Azula was intimidating and ruthless, her techniques flawlessly executed.

She hadn’t done anything untoward to Katara, but her sly voice sent ice down her spine.

Azula examined her nails boredly. “It’s rude not to answer the question of a member of the Royal Court, little girl.”

Katara huffed at her arrogance and turned to face the firebender with crossed arms. The weight of her water skin thumped solidly against her hip. “We’re the same age, Your Highness. And last time I checked, you’re also out of bed at this hour.”

“You’re right.” The princess yawned and pushed herself off the archway, clasping her hands behind her back. “I have no business with—”

Her sharp eyes suddenly narrowed and flitted to the East Wing. Katara whipped around, hand on her pouch. Voices echoed through the stairwell and Katara frantically jumped back into a shadowy corner of the courtyard.

Across her, Azula’s amber eyes gleamed wickedly in the moonlight.

“...assure you, General, that every means necessary has been employed to achieve Fire Lord Ozai’s orders,” a deep, drawling voice reached Katara’s ears.

“I admire your tenacity, Commander Zhao,” Headmaster Iroh’s gravelly baritone replied. “I assume the military is still searching the Air Temples?”

The footsteps stopped a few paces from Katara and Azula’s hiding place. “Why, General, I presumed someone in your esteemed position would be privy to such developments.”

“Oh, no, Commander Zhao,” Iroh’s response was surprisingly light-hearted. “I only wanted a general idea of how our troops are faring. After all, I have been retired far too long. I imagine it would be rather difficult to lead our brave men and women while handling your responsibilities here in the Academy.”

Zhao sneered at that. “I am not as old as you are, Headmaster Iroh.” The footsteps resumed, their owners wandering farther away. “Some of us still listen to the call of fire in our blood.”

Katara could no longer hear Iroh’s answer. She waited for the Fire Princess to emerge from the shadows before straightening up and bolting to the Water Tribes common room.

She briefly caught sight of the smirk on Azula’s face, and it told her that the princess got more or less what she wanted.

Chapter Text

“Katara!” Gumi popped up in front of her as she emerged from the communal washroom. The girl’s blue eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Let’s go get our fortunes read! Aunt Wu’s doing her yearly reading for the Fire Nation harvest season, and Yura said she’ll read fortunes for students, too!”

“Wait, slow down!” Katara giggled at her friend’s contagious excitement. “Aunt who?”

“No, Aunt Wu ,” Gumi grasped her wrist and practically dragged her to the common room where Yuka, Yura, Akkad, and Sokka were gathered by the window. “She’s the fortune teller. The Fire Nation’s mighty superstitious, and it’s tradition to have fortunes read before the monsoon season starts—”

“Oh come on,” Sokka rolled his eyes when he heard what the girls were talking about. “Fortune telling is nonsense!”

“Yeah,” drawled Akkad from his perch on the windowsill. “If Aunt Wu tells you to eat papaya even though you hate it, would you still do it?”

“I would if it leads me to the man I’m gonna marry,” chirped Gumi as she and Katara settled into the cushions. Akkad scoffed.

“Marriage. Really. That’s all girls can talk about,” he muttered to Sokka, who guffawed.

Katara rolled her eyes and blatantly ignored the pair. She turned to the other girls. “Maybe we should go see Aunt Wu and learn our fortunes. It could be fun.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Gumi exclaimed.

“What are you going to ask her, Katara?” Yuka said, leaning her elbow on her thigh. Katara contemplated on her options— not that there were many. She was loath to prove Akkad and her brother right, but Gumi already planted the only appealing question in her head.

Azula could already bend blue flames.

Zuko paced angrily in his uncle’s study, the only place he thought safe as the entire Academy’s populace brimmed with giddiness over the upcoming festivities.

There wasn’t even anything to harvest in the Academy. It was just a stupid excuse for students and Sifus alike to laze around for a week.

But really, he was just looking for something else to irk him, aside from his sister’s bending prowess. He chose the closest one— the stupidity of his classmates.

Teens were lined up in the corridor outside the Headmaster’s quarters, eagerly chatting with each other as they waited for their turn with the fortune teller, whose chambers were two doors down from Iroh’s.

Why people bothered to get their fortunes read was beyond him. Why did his nation put so much stock in the predictions of a fraud?

The door to the study opened and the Fire Prince dropped into a defensive stance. Iroh beamed at him from the threshold, hands folded over his robust belly.

“Prince Zuko!” His nephew loosened his posture with an exasperated huff. “Why aren’t you soaking up on the festivities? Have you come to drink tea with your favorite uncle?”

Zuko rolled his eyes and resumed pacing. “You’re my only uncle… Uncle,” he resisted the urge to slap a hand to his forehead. “And I don’t see the point in the festivities. It’s too loud out there.”

“Ah, the joys of life are wasted on the youth,” Iroh motioned for him to sit in the cushions and he reluctantly did as his uncle busied himself with making tea. It amazed Zuko how Uncle Iroh could whip up some tea just about anywhere.

“I’m sure there’s another reason that you are here, nephew.” Zuko clenched his jaw as the Headmaster settled himself across the low table. He waited until the cups were filled with steaming amber liquid before he gritted out the words.

“Azula’s flames are blue.”

Iroh observed him over the rim of his teacup. “Ah. So I heard.”

“I want to learn how to bend lightning.”

The words were out before he could think them through. His uncle’s bushy eyebrows lifted in inquiry.

Zuko gripped his porcelain teacup. “It’s only a matter of time before she can bend it, Uncle.”

“Oh yes. But, nephew, are you sure you want to learn how to bend lightning just to spite your sister?”

“I don’t want to learn just to spite her,” he replied, an edge of bitterness in his voice. “As the Crown Prince, am I not supposed to master advanced techniques?”

He knew Iroh could easily see through his bald-faced lie. Yes, he just wanted to be better than Azula. He just wanted to prove he was still worth something, that he was not as weak and incompetent as his father believed.

Azula was the golden child. Maybe by mastering something only advanced students learned, he could be on the same level as his sister.

She’ll always be better than you, though, the voice in the back of his head reminded him.

“Lightning is a pure form of firebending, without aggression,” Iroh began, steam from his cup wafting over his silver beard. “It is not fueled by rage or emotion the way other firebending is.”

“So you don’t think I can do it.” It wasn’t a question. Zuko’s shoulders slumped forward. He should have expected this. Even Iroh knew that Azula will always, always be one step ahead of him. Of course he would think Zuko was too volatile to master lightning bending.

Isn’t that why my family exists? To remind me that I’m never good enough?

But Iroh simply placed his teacup on its delicate saucer, and said, without judgement, “I simply think you are not yet ready, Prince Zuko. Some call lightning the cold-blooded fire. It is precise and deadly, like Azula. And you are everything but cold-blooded and deadly, my nephew.”

Zuko stayed silent, wondering if his uncle’s words were a trap, something that would eventually smash the glimmer of pride he felt at the old man’s compliment.

“To perform the technique requires peace of mind,” Uncle Iroh continued, and Zuko braced himself for the long-overdue admonition, the back-hand that would strike his confidence down.

It never came.

“And that is why you will join me for tea and meditation every morning henceforth,” Iroh smiled at him benignly over steepled fingers. Zuko gaped at his uncle, at a loss for words of gratitude, but Iroh merely held up a hand in understanding.

“If you insist on learning how to bend lightning, Prince Zuko, then I would be happy to instruct you,” his uncle’s brows furrowed in concern. “I only wish you do not bring more pressure upon yourself. My brother has already befitted you with so much. I don’t want to see you break, nephew.”

The Fire Prince looked at him with wonder, and ducked his head to drink his lukewarm tea.

“Aunt Wu is expecting you,” an attendant in Earth Kingdom green bowed deeply to them as they entered the fortune teller’s ante-chambers.

“Really?” squealed Katara, and Gumi squeezed her hand excitedly. Sokka and Akkad scoffed and gagged mockingly behind them, but they followed suit as the man ushered the group through the doorway.

A pink-clad girl, who looked younger than Katara and Gumi, walked into the room just as they settled themselves into the cushions.

“My name is Meng and I’m Aunt Wu’s assistant,” she announced cheerfully. Her eyes immediately snapped to Akkad. “Well, hello there.”

“Hello,” he just slumped into the cushions disinterestedly. Sokka snickered as the young girl tugged on her unruly braid uncertainly.

“Can I get you some tea or some of Aunt Wu's special bean curd puffs?” Meng asked politely but mechanically, her eyes still on Akkad.

Sokka straightened up at the mention of food. “I’ll try a curd puff!”

“Just a second,” she told Sokka, who deflated. Katara and Gumi exchanged amused looks as Meng turned to Akkad again.

“So, what’s your name?”

The Water Tribe boy scratched his nose uncomfortably. “Akkad.”

“That’s a pretty name!” Meng exclaimed. “And you’ve got pretty big ears, don’t you?”

The rest of the group tittered as Akkad flushed and covered his ears with his hands. “No, I don’t!”

“Don’t be so modest,” Sokka nudged him playfully with his elbow.

“Yeah, Akkad,” Gumi reached across Sokka to poke the other boy’s shoulder. “They’re huge!”

He scowled at them darkly and Katara stifled her giggles with a fist. Meng, meanwhile, made her way to the ornate door that led to Aunt Wu’s chambers. She smiled over her shoulder at Akkad, who still covered his ears with his hands.

“Well, Akkad, it was very nice meeting you,” she said smoothly, her eyes glinting. “ Very nice.”

“Likewise,” Akkad muttered. Meng gave him a satisfied look as she strode out of the room.

As soon as the doors clicked shut, Sokka stretched out on his cushion and tucked his hands behind his head. “I can’t believe we’re in this house of nonsense.”

His friend snorted in agreement. Katara tossed her braid over her shoulder disdainfully.

“Try to keep an open mind, Sokka,” she said, nose in the air, “There are things in this world that just can’t be explained.”

“Like Akkad’s big ears,” Gumi interjected, and the two girls dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Hey!” He protested. “You’re lucky you’re girls and I can’t fight you.”

“Oh, and how were you gonna fight us, huh?” Gumi stuck her tongue out at the boy.

“Yeah,” Katara jumped in. “Are you gonna flap your big ears at us and make us go away?”

Sokka burst out laughing. “Earbender!”

Akkad landed a punch on his shoulder, face scrunched up, which made Sokka laugh harder.

“You could fly with your ears, dude! Like a new generation of airbenders, but with ears! Earbender!”

Meng walked in then with a tray of bean curd puffs, chatting with an Earth Kingdom girl that Katara recognized as one of Suki’s Kyoshi warriors, Jia.

“Oh, Katara!” The older girl beamed and rushed forward. “Aunt Wu says I’m going to meet my true love. He’s going to give me a rare panda lily.”

“That’s so romantic!” exclaimed Katara, hands clasped.

“I wonder if my true love will give me a rare flower,” Meng said pointedly as she set down her tray.

Akkad elbowed Sokka and stage-whispered, “ I’m tellin’ ya, girls are all the same.”

Katara opened her mouth to reply something smart and scathing, but Jia beat her to it. She playfully poked Meng’s side and stage-whispered in the same fashion, “ Did Aunt Wu really predict you’d marry that guy? ‘Cause he doesn’t seem that great— and his ears are too big.”

Meng flushed as pink as her garb and set down the tray haphazardly in front of the Water Tribe students.

“Enjoy your snack!” She said shrilly before hurriedly disappearing through the door.

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Sokka, plucking a puff from the tray. Jia took this as her cue to leave.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go look for my true love now.” She bowed to the group as the man at the exit ushered her out.

Before Sokka could pop his second bean curd puff into his mouth, the door to the chambers opened and an elderly woman in deep golden robes approached them, her hands tucked into her billowing sleeves. Gumi squirmed excitedly beside Katara.

“Welcome, young ones,” Aunt Wu greeted them benignly. “Now, who’s next? Don’t be shy.”

The group exchanged looks; Sokka and Akkad wore disinterested expressions, while Gumi and Katara silently deliberated who would be the first one to get their fortune read.

Gumi widened her eyes and nodded at Katara in a “ Tell me how it goes first because I don’t know what to do” kind of way that made Katara sigh exasperatedly despite her excitement.

“I guess that’s me,” she told Aunt Wu, and followed the fortune teller through the huge doors and into a suite, where a fire was merrily crackling in a pit in the center of the room. Katara was immediately reminded of the fire pits they had back at home— although, in the South Pole, fire was a welcome addition to any room. Here in the Fire Nation, the added warmth was just overkill .

She settled down on a cushion by the fire, trying to pay no mind to the heat licking her face. Aunt Wu sat down by her side and looked at her knowingly.

“I see you are not a fan of fire,” she commented, her painted lips pressed thin.

“Not really,” Katara tried to smile. She wondered if Aunt Wu was from the Fire Nation. Would she predict a bad future for her if she offended the fortune teller? “I guess I’m just not used to it. Being from the South Pole, I mean.”

“You will learn to love it,” the fortune teller said, and she wondered if this was a fortune or just small talk. “You have fire in your eyes.”

Before Katara could ask what she meant, Aunt Wu pursed her lips and held her veined hands out. “But perhaps a fortune from flames and bones is not something you would be open to at this time. Give me your hands.”

Obediently, Katara held her palms out, her excitement bubbling.

“Your palms are so smooth,” Aunt Wu commented. “Do you use moisturizer?”

“Actually, I have this special seaweed lotion. I can get you some if you want.” Katara leaned forward earnestly. “So, do you see anything interesting in my love line?”

“I feel a great romance for you,” Aunt Wu announced. “The man you are going to marry.”

“Tell me more!”

“I can see that he's a very powerful bender,” the elderly lady continued, studying her palm.

Katara sighed dreamily. “About this man I'm supposed to marry,” she felt her ears burning, but she quickly attributed that to the heat of the flames, “Is he going to be handsome? Oh! I hope he’s tall!”

Aunt Wu smiled thinly at her, as though she had heard this a thousand times before. “Yes, dear. He will be handsome, and tall.”

“Will we have a good life together?” asked Katara excitedly.

The fortune teller nodded, closing Katara’s fingers over her own palm. “A great romance, a great adventure, and a great life. You will have your third great-grandchild before quietly passing away in your sleep.”

“Wow!” She looked at her hand in wonder, pleased that her life would turn out so well. She shot to her feet gleefully. “Thanks, Aunt Wu!”

She scurried to the door with a wide smile on her face. She can’t wait to compare fortunes with Gumi.

Certain things are going to turn out very well.

When Zuko emerged from his uncle’s office, it was late in the afternoon, and the volume of students getting their fortunes told had dissipated from the corridor.

Golden light filtered through the arched windows, and the Fire Prince felt a rare moment of peace.

He was distracted, however, by the sound of crying at the far end of the corridor. He automatically flattened himself against the wall.

A girl’s voice, full of concern, echoed to him, magnified by the curve of the stairwell.

“Gumi, what did Aunt Wu tell you?”

The crying girl hiccuped, then dissolved into nonsensical wailing.

“You can’t believe everything that woman tells you!” A boy’s voice, this time, loud in its frustration, vibrated through the corridor. Zuko couldn’t help but agree with his sentiment.

“Shut up, Sokka!” reprimanded the previous voice. “You’re just saying that because you're going to make yourself unhappy your whole life.”

“That woman is crazy!” The boy— Sokka— yelled shrilly. “My life will be calm and happy and— and joyful !”

There was an exasperated huff, some scuffling, and a few quiet words.

“...would be fun but then she said Dad would die in the war!” A new voice, presumably the crying girl, wailed.

“I thought you were going to ask about boring stuff like who you’re gonna marry!” Another male voice joined the conversation, cracking in uncertain places as only a pubescent boy’s  voice could.

“I did!” The anguished girl replied. “I asked if Dad would like him, then— then— she said he’ll be involved in a great battle in the North—”

“If you insist on believing that stuff, then at least you know your dad will die to save our hides! You should be grateful! There’s no greater—”

The pubescent boy’s words were cut off by the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

“Have you ever lost a parent, Akkad?” The other girl’s voice was so icy, so cold, that even Zuko had to repress a shudder.

A pause, then the girl’s voice: “Then you wouldn’t know how painful it is, even if they died to save your hide. Come on, Gumi.”

Two sets of shuffling footsteps left for the Great Hall. A few moments of silence followed, until—

“Our mom died protecting Katara from Fire Nation soldiers.” One of the boys said glumly. “She was the last waterbender in the South Pole, and they would’ve taken her if mom didn’t lie.”

“I’m sorry,” the other boy replied sullenly. “I didn’t know.”

There was a sigh, followed by joints popping as one of the boys stretched.

“I knew getting our fortunes told was a bad idea,” the first boy said, the sound of his boots scraping across the stone floor.

“It was a waste of time! I didn’t even get any prediction from her ‘cause Gumi ran away.”

“At least she didn’t tell you your struggles will be self-inflicted. Honestly! Didn’t even read my palms or anything…”

Zuko waited until the voices faded before heading to the Fire Nation common room, his head filled with the conversation he had just overheard.

If the Fire Nation troops could easily miss the existence of the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe, could it be possible that the Avatar was also hiding in plain sight?

Zuko wondered if his theory would hold; the Avatar could have already been reincarnated into the Water Tribes. Was he a fully-realized one now, or was he still too young to know his destiny?

Would the members of the Water Tribes keep such thing a secret for too long? Surely word would’ve spread if the Avatar was old enough to train. Benders from all over the world would give an arm and a leg to train the long-lost Avatar.

Especially if it meant overthrowing the Regime of Fire.

His father might believe he was too young to fully grasp how war works, but Zuko was not daft. He knew why his father sent troops to hunt the Avatar. He knew why the Academy library had such few scrolls on the topic.

His feet veered to the third floor of the East Wing before his mind could catch up.

“You know, in Kyoshi, we have this fortune teller who uses cards instead of bones,” Suki said, polishing her steel fans.

“Did you get your fortune read?” Katara asked. She summoned water from the eddies that swirled below the lichen-covered outcropping they stood on.

Suki frowned at a particularly stubborn mark on her fan’s handle.

“Before I got into the Academy, yeah,” she answered. “She told me I’d have great adventures. Wasn’t such a stretch, though, since Oyaji was already grooming me to be the Kyoshi warriors’ next leader.”

Katara hummed in understanding. Suki certainly deserved to be the leader of their band of women warriors; based on the intense glow of the water gloving her hands, Katara could tell that sustained several cuts and bruises from their spar, whereas Suki didn’t look the slightest bit ruffled.

It was Suki’s idea to spar before sundown, for want of things to occupy their time; it was also Suki’s idea to spar by the spot where the river fell into the ocean. She whisked Katara down the stone steps carved into the face of the cliff by the Western Courtyard faster than Katara could say “detention.”

She finally stopped protesting when Suki told her it was about time she knew where Sifu Pakku trained the Water Tribe boys.

The place was breathtaking.

The training grounds, a small clearing that jutted away from the shade of the trees, stood a mere few feet above the ocean— flecks of waves licked up its edge every now and then. Beyond that, it was all blue— water pulled at Katara’s veins, water rose to touch her; the sound of waves here was louder, fiercer, stronger than she’d ever heard since she set foot in the Fire Nation.  

She laughed and resisted the urge to surf through the waves and into the horizon, where the ocean met the sky.

Her element was everywhere. Near the clearing, beyond the trees, curtains of water cascaded down the tiered cliffside before falling in a thunderous crash into the open sea. Katara could feel the mist in the air as it rose from where the waterfall emptied into the ocean. Small streams broke off from the large river in the mountains; they trickled down the bluff and into shallow rivulets around the training grounds.

The water moved more slowly there; dry leaves falling from the trees got caught in the swirling pools before they were carried off to the edge of the overhang.

Katara watched the flow of the water for a while before disrupting it, gathering an orb of her element in her hands.

“I should’ve asked Aunt Wu something else,” Katara froze the water that hovered between her fingers. After Gumi’s breakdown, she felt ashamed that all she thought about were boys. Maybe Sokka and Akkad were right about girls, after all. “I should’ve asked if my family would be safe from the war, or something.”

“Aw, c’mon, you didn’t know,” Suki grinned impishly, standing up and whirling her fan in a tight arc. It whistled slightly as it cut through the air. “That’s the problem with not knowing the future, Katara. You won’t know which questions to ask.”

Katara groaned exasperatedly at the older girl’s words and held her ice orb against the dying sun. Her skills weren’t enough to create a perfect sphere; parts of the water she froze stuck up in blunt ridges, distorting the rays of the sun within.

You have fire in your eyes, Aunt Wu had told her, and Katara laughed quietly to herself, because for now all she had was fire in her ice.

Sokka would love that pun.

“You should challenge Sifu Pakku to let you train with the guys,” Suki said suddenly.

Katara dropped her handiwork in surprise.

“You can’t be serious!” she cried. “He’ll find out I’ve been practicing this whole time— you and Sokka and even Haru could get in trouble!”

Suki sent her fan towards her in reply, and Katara barely had enough time to summon an ice shield.

“It’s about time you shook things up, Katara,” she reasoned. “You’ve finished all the stuff in your scroll. You’d learn more from Pakku than from sparring with us.”

Katara gulped and stared out into the ocean. She didn’t fear the turbulence like other people did; she knew water would protect her. The surge and power of the waves were an ancient, familiar feeling in her gut, as though she had tiny oceans and channels of rivers and hissing streams in her body.  It was familiar, because it was always inside her.

As the tiny flecks of gold remained on the ocean’s surface, even after the waves created and broke, Aunt Wu’s voice told her again: You have fire in your eyes.

“You know what?” She told Suki resolutely, “I think I’m up to the challenge.”

The warrior beamed at her, eyes full of fierce pride.

“That’s the spirit! Besides,” Suki playfully poked her side with her folded fan, “Your future husband can’t be the only powerful bender in your relationship.”

Chapter Text

Winters in the Fire Nation weren’t really winters in Katara’s book, since they were just months of cold rain and thunderstorms and fierce wind that forced people to huddle in their beds or by the fire while the glass shuddered in the window panes.

There was no snow to speak of, and she was still adjusting to the fact that she was now living in a place where the sun always shone even in stormy weather, so unlike her home where winters meant round-the-clock darkness and blizzards that left their little village buried in ice and locked inside their huts.

Fascinating that both places only had two seasons. Katara wondered how Earth Kingdom spring and autumn felt like.

Due to the relentless storms, combative sparring and benders’ battles were moved to the bowels of the Academy, below the kitchens, where the stone was cold and wet and the torches on the walls never seemed to illuminate the entire arena.

Despite the weather, Katara still trained by the river at midnight.

Sokka had yelled at her when he saw her sneaking out during the onslaught of a small typhoon.

“You’re crazy! Have you been outside recently? There are branches flying, Katara! I am not bringing your dead body back to Dad just to tell him you died in a storm!”

It was amusing, really, how her brother thought he could stop her when he was fresh out of bed. Sokka had always been easy to influence when he was sleepy.

“I’ll be safe, Sokka. I’m a waterbender in a storm. Go back to sleep.”

Those were the magic words, honestly. Sokka blinked as the drowsiness in his eyes replaced the crazed panic, and his shoulders slumped forward dejectedly.

“Alright, don’t have to tell me twice. But you have to be back two hours earlier than usual, or I’m telling Dad and the Headmaster on you. Hear me? Two hours! And try not to get hit by lightning.”

Suki thought she was crazy, too, but for different reasons.

“You should be training with the big boys now, Katara! I thought you were ‘up to the challenge?’ What happened?”

Truth be told, Katara didn’t want to train with the “big boys.” Perhaps this was the result of hiding her bending for so long— she didn’t know who she was after her secret got out. What if she made a fool of herself trying to impress Sifu Pakku? What if the Water Tribe girls shunned her instead of joining her? She still remembered her first day of healing class; the girls thought combative waterbending was brutish and barbaric.

She did not need another reason for them to think of the Southern Water Tribe as brutish and barbaric.

So she lied to Suki.

“I just can’t find the right time to challenge Pakku. Do I do it during training, or during benders’ battles? Besides, that underground arena is so stuffy— I can’t show my best moves in there!”

If Suki knew she was just grasping at straws to avoid the confrontation, she did not show it. She did, however, refuse to join her midnight sessions, because, as she’d reasoned haughtily, “I’m a sane person and I can’t bend myself dry.”

Haru was still on Katara’s side, though, and for that she was thankful. He showed up whenever the rain let up slightly, and Katara was always glad to see him.

But spars with Haru weren’t as fun as her spars with Suki or her brother.

He never seemed intent on hurting her— which should be a good thing, in other circumstances, but in this particular scenario it meant that Katara wasn’t as challenged and didn’t really have to think on her feet.

It got kind of boring, after a while.

Once, when he knocked a fist-sized rock into Katara’s shoulder and stopped his attacks to apologize profusely, she briefly thought of Aunt Wu’s prediction and wondered if Haru was a powerful bender. If he was, he didn’t show it, because he kept holding back.

Is it because I’m a girl? Is that why he’s afraid of hurting me?

But Haru wasn’t here now for her to confront. She was all alone in the humid darkness— nights seemed darker and heavier now that it’s monsoon season, and she wasn’t complaining that Sokka wanted her to turn in early.

Suddenly, the world went white.

Katara jumped for cover, trailing her water after her— she spotted an outcropping Haru made the last time they practiced. She tucked herself into the small space underneath, Sokka’s words running through her head all the while.

“Try not to get hit by lightning.”

Katara sighed. Maybe I am crazy.

Zuko was tired of tea.

Zuko was tired of a lot of things.

He’s tired of having tea in the morning with Uncle. He’s tired of Uncle telling him every possible reiteration of his start of school speech. He’s tired of not learning how to bend lightning.

It’s not like he didn’t try to listen to Iroh’s lectures about balance and opposing forces coming together; it’s not like he didn’t appreciate the lessons he was taught.

But Zuko’s tired of the basics.

So he decided to take matters into his own hands.

And what better time was it to practice lightning bending than during a storm?

Of course, he had to be careful. No one— especially his sister— could know what he was doing.

The little voice in his head told him not to bother, you’ll never be as good as Azula anyway, Father wouldn’t care about you unless you captured the Avatar by yourself—

Zuko shook his head and pulled on a black, nondescript tunic. He’s been down that road with his thoughts before. It was an endless spiral that engulfed him and rendered him immobile.

I need something to cover my face, he told himself resolutely, trying to drown the morose voice with action.

He lit a small fire in his palm, meticulously searching the lavish decor of the empty Fire Nation common room. His eyes alighted on a grotesque blue and white mask, meant for storytellers and masquerade balls.

Perfect.

The grounds were quiet at this hour, with only the intermittent spattering of rain keeping the Fire Prince company.

He kept to the shadows, crept along the slick dark outer walls of the East Wing, and finally let himself breathe as he reached the treeline near the earthbenders’ arena.

He smiled to himself; unintended explosions would be masked by thunder, and the rain would erase any mark he’d make on the training grounds.

Slowly, Zuko fell into his stance. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the positive and negative energies that surrounded him. He swept his arms out and brought his hands together—

— and nothing happened.

His second attempt produced a burst of fire so weak that it fizzled out in the misty air.

His third one charred a tree.

His fourth made an explosion so huge that it almost blinded him. He wasn’t even sure if he actually made lightning— he just flew backwards and hit the muddy ground, his wooden mask painfully clattering against his chin.

The fifth attempt was like the second one— it was so weak and pathetic that Zuko roared and blindly punched the air and suddenly his sixth attempt was an uncontrollable volley of flames that he sent flying in every direction indiscriminately, detention be damned, let them know how much of a failure I am, can’t even bend lightning—

Then someone yelped and Zuko froze.

“My hair!”

Without thinking, he ran to the direction of the voice.

“I’m sorry!” He apologized before he even saw his victim. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was here!”

“You burned my hair!” The accusatory voice came from near the river. In the gloom, Zuko saw light blue robes standing out in the darkness.

It was one of the noisy girls he got stuck doing kitchen duty with— the Water Tribe one, the one who shoved him after his battle with the boomerang boy.

Belatedly, he remembered her and her friend talking about sneaking out during music night.

So this was what they meant.

“I’m really sorry,” he apologized again, hoping that his mask muffled his voice enough to avoid recognition. “It was an accident, I swear.”

She clutched the end of her braid, frantically examining the singed ends.

“What am I gonna do? ” she asked shrilly. Zuko flinched.

“It— it doesn’t look that bad,” he offered.

She frowned at him, her bright blue eyes glistening reproachfully in the dim moonlight.

“It’s so much shorter than it was! People are gonna notice!” She wrung her hands and started pacing. “Oh, Sokka’s gonna tell on me! And when they find out I’ve been sneaking out at night— oh!”

She whirled on him with narrowed eyes and Zuko stumbled backwards from the mere force of her gaze.

“Why are you wearing a mask?”

Zuko gulped.

“I… have to hide my identity,” he explained lamely. The Water Tribe girl looked unconvinced.

“All the other people I met who train at night don’t wear masks,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

All the other people? Zuko thought. Was midnight training a regular thing? Was Uncle Iroh aware of this?

But knowing the answer wouldn’t help him bend lightning, so he just shrugged in answer to the girl’s query.

“Firebenders,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “What’s your name, then?”

“Lee,” Zuko responded with the most common Fire Nation name he could think of.

It was obvious that the girl didn’t believe him.

“What’s yours?” he challenged.

“Kya,” she replied, sticking her chin in the air. He snorted.

It was obvious that the girl was lying.

“Very well, Kya.” Zuko turned to leave. “I’m sorry about your hair, but if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to my training.”

“Oh no, you won’t!” Zuko almost fell forward as a water whip tugged on his ankle.

He growled, but the girl remained undeterred.

“If this is gonna be a regular thing, I have to know when you’re shooting fireballs so I can go practice somewhere else,” she raised an eyebrow at him, water whip still tight around his ankle. “Some place where my hair won’t get burned off.”

Zuko roared in frustration and cut off her whip with a sharp blast of flame. She easily reformed her water into a spear.

“Watch it, firebender,” she hissed.

“Watch me, peasant,” he hissed back, kicking an arc of flames which she blocked with a wall of ice.

He punched small explosions through his fists but she swerved around his attacks on a wave— he dodged the shards of ice she sent his way and launched himself high in the air as two whips threatened to catch his ankles once more.

He spun a stream of fire in her direction as he landed, melting the whips into steam, but she  quickly bent rainwater into ice discs— he summoned a wall of fire but she skirted around his defense and he barely had time to shoot down the two icicles that whistled through the air before she was forming her whips again—

He countered with two whips of his own, trying to break her root, but she dove away and bent muddy water into menacing tentacles that lashed at his stomach, his face, his legs, his arms, forcing him to leap backwards and backwards until one tentacle shot out farther than the rest and tugged him down.

He fell backwards in an undignified heap, panting heavily.

“Don’t… tell anyone… about… my… training,” the girl said, sounding twice as winded as he was, “And I won’t tell anyone… that you got beat… by a girl. Got it?”

“Got it,” Zuko grinned beneath his mask and propped himself up on his elbows. Surprisingly, he still felt victorious despite his loss. It was a well-matched battle, despite her seeming lack of endurance. “What are you doing training at night? You’re already pretty good.”

The girl cast him a bewildered look, still breathing heavily. “You... think so?”

“I guess,” Zuko shrugged. “I haven’t sparred with a Water Tribe girl before, so I wouldn’t know for sure.”

“There’s a reason for that, and it’s precisely why I’m training at night,” she replied bitterly.

His brows furrowed at her statement as he struggled to get up from the slippery mud beneath him.

She offered him her hand with a resigned sigh. He gritted his teeth and ignored her, his boots and arms still fighting for purchase on the muddy ground.

“Fine, make it harder for yourself then!” The girl threw her hands up in frustration. “I have to go now, though, or my brother will kill me, and then he’ll kill you, too, probably, since you kept me out late.”

Zuko let out a short bark of laughter at that. He could only imagine what her brother— or anyone else— might do if he was unmasked.

He finally straightened up, his filthy clothes clinging to him heavily. The girl nonchalantly bent water from his clothes, as though she did it everyday, but Zuko felt immense relief as his tunic felt much lighter.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully, and she flashed him a brilliant smile before walking towards the Western Courtyard.

“I’ll be here tomorrow night,” Zuko called out on impulse and he nearly smacked himself on the forehead from embarrassment.

But the girl just looked over her shoulder with a small smile on her lips and called back, “Thanks for letting me know, Lee.”

She waved good night and he waved back. His hand was still raised when she disappeared from his view.

“You know, Katara, I haven’t seen you around on music nights much,” Jet commented, the straw in his mouth bouncing at the end of his lopsided smile.

His lanky legs were sprawled out underneath his desk, as usual, effectively blocking anyone from walking down the aisle between him and Katara.

From her seat, Katara blushed at the attention. Had he really been seeking her out during music nights?

“I just… like hanging out with Suki and the other girls on music nights, Jet,” she replied, her face heating up as she said his name.

Jet regarded her with sharp, dark eyes before grinning roguishly.

“Come with me next time,” he said bluntly. Katara’s eyes widened in surprise, and he continued, “I promise it’ll be fun, gorgeous.”

“Oh… sure,” she could feel the heat reaching her ears and she just knew Gumi was hanging on to every word of this two seats behind her. “I’d love to go with you.”

“By the way, I like what you did with your hair. Suits you,” Jet winked at her as Sifu Zei entered the History classroom.

Katara played with the ends of her hair, her heart pounding in her ears. She wore it down today, hoping the rest of her curls would hide the singed portion. She’d hoped no one would notice, but apparently, Jet did.

And he loved it.

She spent the entire lesson stealing furtive glances at him, but he just seemed as nonchalant as usual.

Did he really just ask me out? What happens on music nights?

She silently cursed Suki for dragging her off to train for the past four music nights at the Academy.

Granted, they got a lot of training in whenever the sound of the tsungi horn blasted through the Great Hall, but now Katara was totally unprepared and clueless about what to expect.

The class ended before Katara knew it— Jet  flashed her one last lopsided grin before he hurried off after his group of friends and Katara bit back a squeal.

Gumi didn’t hold hers back, though.

“Tell. Me. Everything!” She insisted shrilly as soon as Jet’s gang disappeared through the door.

Katara beamed. “Well, it seems my presence has been missed during music nights.”

Gumi danced around giddily, her blue eyes glinting as they walked to the Great Hall. “I knew he liked you! I told you!”

“Who likes Katara?”

Sokka popped up behind them, struggling with  the massive scrolls in his arms.

“Jet does,” Gumi trilled sweetly, hands clasped in front of her chest. Sokka scowled darkly and turned to his sister.

“I don’t trust that guy,” he warned. “He and his Freedom Fighter friends are so full of themselves, like they actually fought in the war—”

“Oh, like you did?” Katara teased good-naturedly.

Her brother’s scowl deepened as the cacophony of lunchtime reached them.

“I’m serious!” He hissed, looking around furtively. “He’s been trying to recruit me to fight with the rebels as if he has a clue about what’s happening outside his little Earth Kingdom village!”

“Well, he probably does, seeing as he’s the leader of their rebel group,” mused Gumi, sitting herself down at the Water Tribes table.

Sokka opened his mouth to retort, but Katara cut him off.

“It’s just music night, Sokka, not joining the resistance. I can take care of myself.” She pointed at his scrolls. “What are those?”

His eyes brightened immediately and he dumped his load on the wooden table with a flourish.

“They’re maps! I’ve been asking Sifu Zei about the Si Wong desert— he mentioned a library there a couple of weeks ago— and he gave me some of the old-timey maps from his collection!”

“That’s great, Sokka,” Katara replied, a tad less enthusiastic than the young warrior. “Since when were you into maps?”

“It started when Dad allowed me into the council meetings,” Sokka scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin on his face. “But, hey! I figured, these maps could come in handy sometime, right?”

Katara eyed the dirty rolls and waved the dust motes away from the nearest pot of food.

“Sure, Sokka. Maybe one day, the Fire Nation will allow other people to travel the world freely.”

“Nauseating,” Azula commented dryly as Hyun and Kei tripped over themselves, presenting flowers to Ty Lee in the courtyard.

Mai hummed in agreement as she polished her knives. She never got the appeal of receiving gifts from boys. If she wanted a flower, she could very damn well get the flower by herself.

“I saw it, and I thought it was pretty,” Zuko had told her once, offering her a rose from his mother’s gardens. “Don’t girls like stuff like this?”

“Maybe stupid girls,” she’d replied.

And Mai was not a stupid girl. But she’s pretty sure Ty Lee wasn’t a stupid girl, too, so she could only guess what went through the acrobat’s mind when she allowed boys to fawn over her like this.

“I can’t fathom why Ty Lee would want all this attention,” continued Azula, leaning back on the stone bench and examining her nails. “Sometimes it gets tiring when people worship you all the time.”

“I thought you liked it ,” Mai paused to examine the glint of her stiletto in the weak sunlight. It was the first in many days that they could bask in the sun again, but heavy clouds still loomed on the horizon.

“Oh, I do, I love it,” Azula agreed. “But sometimes I want to see how people would treat me if they didn’t know who I was.”

Mai didn’t have an answer for that. What was the point, anyway? They were Fire Nation nobility; it’s not like they had plenty of opportunities to sneak off and become anonymous.

A prickling sensation caused Mai to look up, her fingers tightening ever so slightly on her  freshly polished knife. She squinted at the East Wing’s upper floors, scanning the arched windows until her eyes rested on a pale face looking down at her from the third floor. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see the scar on the other side of his face.

Mai didn’t have to look too closely to know that he was smiling at her with that small, sad smile of his.

She turned away before she could smile back.

“I want to see how people would treat me if they didn’t know who I was, too,” she told Azula, who grinned slyly at her.

Haru didn’t really like bending in the rain.

Water made the earth harder to manipulate; mud was heavier, somehow, and less willing to cooperate under his hands.

Earthbending can lift boulders and essentially move mountains, but once the water mixed in with the dirt, it took a lot of effort to bend the element to his will.

But Haru didn’t mind, not at all, especially now that he was training with Katara. Maybe he’d gotten used to her water seeping into everything, or maybe he just really enjoyed her company— it’s not everyday a pretty girl acts so interested in your boring life, he mused as he called the mud to solidify and hover between his outstretched fingers.

It’s not everyday he’s so interested in a pretty girl’s life, too.

Hearing Katara tell stories about her homeland— stories of raid after Fire Nation raid that picked away at their dwindling tribe, stories of survival amidst hunger and harsh weather— and then, seeing her match volley after volley with ferocity he’d never seen before… it stirred up hope in Haru, hope that he never felt back at home, hope that things will get better if only people would fight back.

She stirred up other feelings inside him, too, but he was not prepared to acknowledge those yet.

But maybe it was because of those have-yet-to-be-named feelings that he was standing here, in the middle of the dark, damp woods, waiting for Katara to arrive.

He didn’t have to wait long, though. He could hear her voice approaching from the Eastern Courtyard.

Huh. She usually crossed the Western Courtyard on her way to the river.

Maybe she picked up Suki, Haru thought, heart sinking. Suki was a great warrior, a great girl, but he was hoping to train with Katara one on one.

His heart sank further into his stomach when she turned the corner with a dark shadow, someone who was definitely not Suki.

Okay, he would’ve preferred Suki’s company over this stranger’s.

Why is he wearing a mask?

“Hi, Haru!”

Katara flashed him a radiant smile and Haru momentarily forgot about the masked man.

“Hey, Katara,” he smiled, then lost control of the mud he was bending between his hands.

It splattered his robes and he blushed in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Katara said, oblivious to his flustered state. “I had to convince Lee—” she shot the other boy a frustrated glance, “— that it was perfectly alright to train with other people at night.”

The masked stranger shrugged and bowed at Haru, Fire Nation style. Haru’s eyebrows shot up to his hair. Was he simply a Fire Nation warrior? He squinted in the faint light of the moon. The boy had no weapons.

Why would Katara bring a firebender here?

Despite his surprise at the sudden disruption of their routine, Haru bowed politely to the boy.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lee.”

“You too,” the firebender replied gruffly, as though it wasn’t actually nice to meet him. Haru could safely say that he shared the sentiment.

The boy— Lee— turned to Katara. “Is this the brother you were talking about?”

Haru coughed. He and Katara looked nothing alike!

Then again, mixed looks weren’t particularly uncommon, especially in the Fire Nation colonies. Haru reasoned that maybe Lee was from one of those outlying island towns in the Fire Nation, where Earth Kingdom families and Fire Nation fisherfolk coexisted, despite all odds.

“No, he’s not,” Katara was saying, “I saw Haru training here in secret, too, and I figured it’ll be better if we trained together.”

Lee seemed to eye the two of them beneath his mask; the black eye holes of the grotesque character he wore on his face betrayed nothing, until he spoke in a muffled voice.

“Alright then.”

He shot twin blades of fire in their direction, and Haru barely had time to raise a wall before Katara was retaliating with icicles. Lee jumped in the air and landed to their right— Haru shot fist-sized rocks in his direction just as the firebender’s feet hit the ground, forcing him to dodge left and right.

Katara took advantage of Haru’s assault to pin Lee’s hands to his sides with thick cords of water, but he swiftly shook them off with a fiery kick, bringing his feet down in a splash of mud.

Haru quickly encased him in the earth, willing the water-soaked dirt to work with him, but the mud only reached Lee’s ankles and he  easily broke free just as Katara threw him backwards into a tree with a surge of water, freezing him in place.

For a moment, Haru caught his breath, sure that Lee would concede defeat, but he saw Katara narrow her eyes and shift into stance.

He turned to look at the frozen firebender, steam slowly enveloping his dark figure— then  there was an explosion and shards of ice flew in the air and Katara raised a dome of water to shield them.

“Hey!”

She withdrew the dome and carelessly led the water back to the river, planting her hands on her hip.

“Will you quit it with those explosions, firebender?”

“What would you have me do, Water Tribe?” Lee crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Katara tapped her chin in feigned thoughtfulness. “Maybe not hurt us , since we’re just sparring?”

Lee threw his hands in the air in apparent frustration, his mask grinning maniacally at them.

“How is anyone supposed to learn when they’re not pushed to their limits?”

“How is anyone supposed to learn when people keep almost killing them all the time?” Katara countered, flakes of ice forming on the ground near her.

Haru decided to step in before she froze them all.

“Alright, you guys. It’s been a long night, maybe we should turn in.”

It didn’t seem like they heard him.

“I didn’t almost kill you,” the voice behind the mask sounded incredulous. “I accidentally burned your hair. There’s a big difference.”

“He burned your—” Haru began, but Katara stomped her foot on the ground and spikes of ice shot up from where she was standing.

“You could have killed me, you know!” She pointed a finger at Lee, who seemed unfazed. “If you had missed even an inch—”

The firebender scoffed, crossing his arms. “Oh please, you wouldn’t have died, you would’ve just been scar—”

Abruptly, his hands fell loosely to his sides and he took a step backwards.

“What?” Katara advanced, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “I would’ve just been scarred? Yeah, like that’s any consolation!”

“I know,” Lee said so quietly that Haru almost didn’t hear him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was callous with my actions.”

He bowed formally to both of them.

“Maybe it’s best that I don’t train with you two anymore.”

This gave Katara a start.

“I didn’t say that, Lee,” she said, her tone softening. “Isn’t it part of your training to control fire so it doesn’t burst out all the time? Maybe you could learn that with us.”

“Really?” Lee asked hoarsely.

Katara sneaked a peek at Haru, who shrugged almost imperceptibly, letting her make the decision. Even though it would mean the end of his one-on-ones with her.

She flashed a bright smile at Lee and nodded.

“Really. Now, come on. We still have a few hours before Long Feng starts his patrol.”

“Your sister,” Suki gracefully plopped herself down beside him on the Water Tribes table, “is driving me crazy.”

“Wha’d she do now?” Sokka asked through a mouthful of jook.

Suki narrowed her eyes at her empty bowl and spoke in a low but irritated voice.

“Haru let slip that they trained with a firebender last night.”

“What?!”

Several Water Tribe students looked up at Sokka, who was suddenly on his feet. Suki rolled her eyes and tugged him back down, grinning at the others in mock innocence.

“What is she thinking?” Sokka growled under his breath, his breakfast forgotten. That came as a surprise to Suki, who’d never seen Sokka tear himself away from a meal before.

“I dunno,” she shrugged, neatly serving herself seaweed noodles from a nearby pot. All her irritation seemed to have vanished when Sokka got wound up. “Interesting thing, though. Haru said he felt like he’d sparred with the firebender before.”

“Wouldn’t he know if he did?” Sokka’s tone implied what he thought Haru’s quick wit. “Anyone who’s sparred anyone knows if they fought ‘em. This is the Academy, not an open field with Fire Nation soldiers and their faceplates.”

Suki’s eyes twinkled dangerously.

“That’s the thing. The firebender was wearing a mask. Haru didn’t know who they were fighting, just that Katara brought him there without prior notice.”

Sokka’s eyes almost popped out of his head.

“Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is?” He tugged at his wolf tail in frustration and banged his head against the table. “My sister’s gonna drive me crazy!”

Suki chuckled knowingly beside him.

“Now you know how I feel.”

Chapter Text

“So… music night,” Sokka said, attempting to smoothen his squeaky, pubescent voice into something manly. “Got any plans, Yue?”

Yue smiled brightly at him before looking down at her lap, blushing. “No, I don’t, Sokka.”

“Great! I-I mean,” Sokka coughed, trying to curb his enthusiasm, “If you’re up for it, we can dance, or walk around, or I dunno, do an activity—”

Yue touched his arm to stop his rambling.

“Sure, we can do an activity ,” the princess said, giggling.

Sokka felt his cheeks burn, but the sound of her tinkling laugh made his heart swell. He made that happen. He made her laugh. He made her happy— happier than the first time he met her a year ago.

“Good, good,” he tucked his shaking hands behind his back, faking nonchalance. “I guess I’ll pick you up— er, wait for you in the common room, then.”

Yue hid her smile behind her slender fingers. “I’ll be looking forward to it, Sokka.”

He couldn’t fight the goofy smile on his face— and when he walked away, he didn’t fight the jauntiness in his strut, either.

He didn’t even miss a step as he passed by Haru, who had just stood up from Earth Kingdom table.

“Hey, Haru!” He slung an arm over the disgruntled boy’s shoulders. “Whatcha doin’ on music night?”

Haru raised his eyebrows at him. “Um. Probably training with your sister and maybe you and Suki?”

“Oh, sorry about that,” Sokka retracted his arm with a pained grimace. “I guess you didn’t know. Jet asked Katara to go with him on music night. And she said yes.”

“Are you kidding me?” Haru groaned, turning away from him. “First it was Lee, then now Jet…”

“Is Lee that firebender you’ve been sparring with?” He asked, momentarily forgetting his lighthearted mood.

Haru’s eyes widened.

“You weren’t supposed to know about that.”

“Eh,” Sokka shrugged, “Suki told me.”

Haru’s head whipped to the Earth Kingdom table behind them, where Suki and Katara were having lunch with the rest of the Kyoshi warriors. His face dropped ever so slightly when he caught sight of the waterbender.

“Is this Lee guy… uh,” Sokka ventured, scratching his head awkwardly, “Is he friendly with Katara? Like Jet?”

“Not particularly.” The earthbender’s brows furrowed. “At least, I don’t think so. She said he burned her hair, and that she doesn’t believe his name is Lee so she said her name was Kya.”

The other boy blinked in surprise, but recovered a split-second later.

“Ah, don’t worry! Katara would never go for a Fire Nation guy.” Sokka slung his arm around his shoulders once more. “I think it’s about time I taught you some stuff about the ladies, my dude.”

“I know stuff about the ladies—” Haru tried to shrug out of the Water Tribe warrior’s grip, but Sokka just clung on tightly and walked him towards the Eastern Courtyard where the benders’ battle would take place, now that the rain had let up for a couple of weeks.

“Now, as her big brother, I don’t generally approve of whoever’s interested in Katara,” Sokka explained, Haru still trapped in his arm, “But between you, Jet, and the firebender, I’d vote for you.”

Haru stopped struggling at that.

“Really?”

“Sure, and that’s why I’m gonna help you.” He plunked Haru down on a bench and stood in front of him sternly. “Now, the number one mistake nice guys like you make: being too nice.”

The older boy looked dumbfounded. “You can be too nice?”

Sokka nodded sagely.

“Yep. If you want to keep her interested, you have to act aloof, like you don't really care one way or the other.”

He peered over Haru’s shoulder. “Oh, perfect timing! Here they come. Remember, act aloof.”

“Hey, you guys,” Katara waved as she hurried towards them with Suki, Jia, and Ling in tow.

“Hi, Katara!” Haru greeted back, and Sokka resisted the urge to whack him with his boomerang. He settled for a frantic shake of his head.

“I-I mean—” Haru started, but the girls were no longer paying attention, their conversation already on the new technique the Kyoshi warriors learned from Sifu Long Feng.

Sokka sighed resignedly and sat down beside Haru.

“We’ll try again next time, man.”

“Haru, are you going to join the benders’ battle today?” Katara asked, drifting away from the Kyoshi warriors.

Sokka pointedly raised his brows at Haru, who immediately forced a bored expression.

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” he replied, leaning back casually on the stone bench. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sokka’s subtle thumbs up.

“Oh…” Katara looked between him and Sokka, who shrugged innocently. “Well, if you do, maybe you can try that earth column thing you did with Lee the other night. It was really good.”

“You think so?” Haru shot forward eagerly, but forced himself back when he saw Sokka’s wide eyes. “I mean, I guess, whatever.”

Katara looked at him in utter confusion before suddenly kicking her brother in the shin.

“What did you say to him?” She asked, planting her hands on her hips.

“What?” Sokka raised his hands in surrender, voice cracking. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Oh yeah? Then why is he acting like you when you’re pretending you don’t want the last piece of seal jerky?”

“I don’t act like that—”

The siblings’ squabble was cut off by murmurs of anticipation as the first two benders— an earthbender and a waterbender— took their place on the battlegrounds. Sifu Fong stood between them with his hand held high, beady eyes glancing left and right.

He brought down his hand and the battle began.

Sokka immediately jumped up the bench and crowed, “WATER TRIBE!” at the top of his lungs.

The older bender grinned at him from the arena before a chunk of rock thumped his stomach, knocking the breath out of him.

“Oops,” said Sokka, slowly inching down to hide in the crowd.

“You know, Sokka,” Suki mused, her eyes never leaving the battle, “Maybe there’s a wrong way to show your support.”

The corners of his mouth comically dropped as the sifus declared the earthbender the winner.

Katara laughed at her brother’s dismay and took the seat he vacated. She nudged Haru with her shoulder.

“So, are you gonna battle someone today?”

Haru’s mouth twisted into a shy smile.

“You know what? Yeah. I might give it a shot.  Even Sifu Fong said I was getting better, and that’s saying something. Plus, with Lee joining us, I now know how to handle firebending and waterbending.”

“That’s great, Haru!” Katara gently touched his arm and he looked at her in surprise before  hastily averting his gaze to the new pair preparing for battle.

Haru recognized the other earthbender, Luo, who was going up against the Fire Prince. He was a hulking boy a year younger than Haru, broad where the Fire Prince was lanky. Surely that would give him an advantage— Haru had learned the hard way that earthbenders were weakest when their roots were broken. The prince probably knew that; surely he received special training from the masters.

Haru’s brows furrowed in thought— the Fire Prince rarely missed the chance to join the benders’ battles, but for the past month or so, he had been conspicuously absent from the field.

Wonder what changed.

The two benders took their stances, waiting for the signal to begin. As soon as Sifu Jeong Jeong brought his hand down, the Fire Prince kicked a blast of flames against the earthbender. Luo barely had time to roll away when another burst of fire flared from the Fire Prince’s fist. The earthen wall Luo erected was swiftly cut down by a fire whip, and Luo launched a barrage of attacks but the firebender just met them with flame-coated arms.

Luo sent discs of earth flying towards his opponent’s head, but the Fire Prince just dropped to his knees and planted his palms on the ground.

Haru gasped— he knew what was coming even before it happened, because that was how he taught himself the earth column technique, so Lee wouldn’t raze his legs with that tight circle of fire that he hadn’t seen any other firebender use before—

He turned to Katara as Jeong Jeong declared the Fire Prince the winner, his eyes wide with realization, but Katara was already chatting with Jia, oblivious to the horror he felt.

Koh take us. We were sparring with the Fire Lord’s son.

“Winter, spring,

Summer and fall.

Winter, spring,

Summer and fall.

Four seasons

Four loves.

Four seasons

Four loves.”

This was one of the more curious things that Headmaster Iroh insisted on doing that bewildered Katara beyond belief.

Music nights.

“Oh, it’ll be lovely, Katara!” Baya had assured her, as she and the other Water Tribe girls crowded around the mirror in their dormitory, each in a different stage of primping. “I’m surprised it took you this long to join us.”

“It only took Jet to convince her to join us,” Gumi impishly nudged Katara with her hairbrush.

She didn’t even bother correcting the other girl as she fidgeted with the nicest tunic she brought from the South Pole. Oddly enough, she missed her Gran-Gran. The old woman would probably be clucking disapprovingly at her, warning her of inappropriate things that happened between teenagers in the darkness, and she’d probably be protesting that she was a big girl now, that she knew her limits— it would earn her an irritated tch and a pinch from her grandmother, but she missed the old woman all the same.

Right now, she smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles in her clothes as Jet dropped down the seat next to her, casually draping an arm around her shoulders as they watched the headmaster’s performance draw to a close.

“Does he always sing on music nights?” She ventured, trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest as Jet’s arm tightened around her.

The boy grinned sideways at her, a hint of bitterness in his smile. “Yeah. Isn’t it amusing when firebenders think they can act like we do?”

Katara gulped. So far, the only firebender she’d observed up close was Lee, and he seemed like a normal kid just like the rest of them, but she wasn’t about to tell anyone about that.

So she settled for an uncertain, “Yeah…” because she felt that disagreeing with Jet would sour the mood.

Jet regarded her with a sidelong glance. “You know, Katara…”

The last strains of the tsungi horn filled the air between them as he trailed off.

“What is it, Jet?”

“I have a feeling we have a lot in common,” Jet’s usually relaxed demeanor turned stony, “Especially when it comes to the Fire Nation.”

Katara bowed her head, brushing her fingers against the ridges of her mother’s necklace.

Jet ran a comforting hand down her arm. “It’s alright, Katara. We’re all victims of the Fire Nation here, no matter how much the Academy tries to deny it.” He jerked his thumb towards one of his friends down the table. “Longshot over there? His town got burned down by the Fire Nation. One of my Freedom Fighters back in the village— we call him The Duke— I found him trying to steal our food. I don't think he ever really had a home.”

“What about you?” Katara asked, peering up at his sharp features, her voice smaller than she’d intended.

Jet’s grip tightened on her arm, and she found herself leaning into his side, instinct telling her to comfort, to heal.

“The Fire Nation killed my parents,” he finally murmured in a voice barely audible over the din in the Great Hall. “I was only eight years old. That day changed me forever.”

She gripped his knee and he returned her concerned gaze with a small smile on his lips, his eyes simmering with anger, with a need for justice.

“Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation,” she told him in the same quiet voice.

He reached up to brush a lock of hair from her face, and Katara’s heart flitted around her ribcage like a trapped sparrowkeet.

“I’m so sorry, Katara.” He searched her face for a moment, and Katara shyly averted her face, bowing her head. She clutched her mother’s necklace.

“Is that why you’re here at the Academy?” She asked, veering away from her final memory of her mother. “To learn how to defend yourself from the Fire Nation?”

The side of his mouth with the straw curled upwards.

“Yes. Me and my Freedom Fighters, we’re walking into the belly of the beast,” he declared proudly. “We’ll leave once we learn enough about the Fire Nation tactics to mess them up.”

“You won’t finish your training?”

Jet looked at her as though she had let him down somehow, and she’s so, so afraid that she’d ruined the mood.

“You finish here, you become part of the military, or you become a spy on your own people,” Jet’s dark eyes narrow in disgust. “Best if you leave early and fight back.”

Zuko lingered in the shadows, waiting for the tell-tale flash of blue that was Kya.

His recent win the other day— over an earthbender who was twice his size— left him itching for more training. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, of course, especially not to Uncle, but working with benders of two other elements instead of working against them really gave him a new perspective on his techniques as a firebender.

Not enough to beat Kya yet— she was self-taught, and her waterbending was too unpredictable and unconventional for him to learn how to circumvent her moves— but he did learn enough of Haru’s movements to identify the weak points of the common styles that General Fong taught.

Where are they?

“Hey there, Lee,” a different female voice said somewhere above him. Its cadence was anything but friendly. He peered at the branches over his shoulder— there was a  light rustle of leaves to his left and loud footsteps to his right. He whipped around, blood pounding in his ears— he was being cornered, and the flash of blue he saw did not come from a familiar face.

He lit a fire in his palm, ready to attack, or at least run away before he was unmasked. The sudden light revealed a Water Tribe boy, boomerang held in casually in his hand.

“Easy there, firebender,” the boy said, and Zuko tried not to let his growl of irritation escape through his lips. Of course— of course the boomerang boy was Kya’s brother. The Spirits just loved to play their cosmic jokes on him.

“Oh, relax,” Zuko whipped around to see a girl in war paint jump down from the trees. He rolled his eyes under his mask. Everything about this ambush was anything but relaxing.

“We just wanted to thank you properly for training with our friends,” the girl continued, tapping a folded metal fan against her open palm. Zuko’s eyes widened. The war paint, the fan, the jian sword cleverly concealed within the folds of her forest green robes— this girl was a Kyoshi warrior.

“Where’s Kya?” He growled before he could stop himself— wait, that wasn’t what I wanted to ask— and the Kyoshi warrior smiled wryly.

“Oh, she’s having a grand ol’ time,” she said, advancing slowly.

Zuko stepped back warily, glancing at the other warrior from the corner of his eye.

“Who are you?” He already knew the answer to his question, but he needed to stall. Was Haru coming? Did he know what his supposed friends were doing?

I thought Haru and Kya were my friends now, too, a hurt little voice in his head piped up. He gritted his teeth and tried to tune out the voice. Of course they weren’t friends— they didn’t even know who he really was.

“Oh, how rude of us not to introduce ourselves,” the Kyoshi warrior said, sarcasm dripping in her tone. “I’m Suki. This is Kya’s brother, Sokka.”

“We just have a few questions for you, buddy, don’t worry,” the boy said, holding his hands up in an appeasing gesture. Zuko did not believe his friendly tone, especially when he could see the boy’s knuckles straining as he gripped his boomerang. He could still remember its painful thwack against the back of his head.

Zuko was suddenly glad he didn’t train with weapons at night— his dao swords would have been a dead giveaway.

“Okay, then. Ask your questions.”

The boy glanced at the girl slightly, and she crossed her arms and glared right back. The interaction would have been amusing if Zuko wasn’t planning every exit strategy in his head.

The Water Tribe warrior shrugged resignedly, but puffed his chest up when he faced Zuko.

“We were wondering if you know why the Fire Prince is training at night.”

Zuko froze. He didn’t need to worry about dead giveaways, apparently.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes flickering between each warrior, weighing his chances.

“Oh, but maybe you do,” the girl said, a little too innocently, “After all, there are only a handful of people who train at night— maybe you ran into him on your way down to see Kya and Haru.”

Zuko exhaled sharply through his nose, still assessing if they would give chase if he ran off. Music nights were loud, but to be seen running away would definitely land him in detention. To be seen running away with a mask would raise a lot of questions he really didn’t know the answer to.

“Why do you need to know?” He asked levelly, muscles straining in his crouched stance, ready to leap away or fight back.

“Oh, you know, a lot of reasons,” the Water Tribe boy said, waving his boomerang-bearing hand nonchalantly as he took a deliberate step toward Zuko. “I’d rather not have my sister walkin’ around at night when there are potential threats. I’m sure you understand.”

“Your sister’s the potential threat,” Zuko muttered under his breath.

The girl snorted in apparent agreement. The boy raised his hands defensively.

“Sure, yeah, I get that, she can take care of herself,” his voice rose and broke slightly. He cleared his throat and returned to a more somber facade. “Still, who knows what would end up happening? Fire is unpredictable, and the Fire Prince is a pretty volatile person—”

I’m not that volatile, roared Zuko in his head as the flame in his hand flared.

“—and we don’t know what would happen if our midnight training stints reach the headmaster’s ears,” the girl stepped in, arms still crossed.

“Oh,” Zuko commented lamely, his posture relaxing slightly. So this was the whole point of the ambush? Hadn’t he agreed to train with Kya and Haru on the promise that none of them would rat out the others?

The implication of their statement caught up to him and he stiffened once more. He was used to not being trusted, but Uncle? Uncle let things slide all the time. Uncle was all about working together and harmony and Spirits-forsaken music nights.

“You don’t have to worry about Un— Iroh. Or the Fire Prince,” he bit out. Yes, they don’t have to worry about him. He’d rather forget this whole altercation happened. “It’s Azula and Zhao you have to watch out for.”

“Azula?” the Water Tribe boy asked. The Kyoshi warrior rolled her eyes.

“The Fire Princess,” the girl hissed at him, and this time, Zuko did find the interaction amusing. Maybe it was the relief— they still didn’t know he was the Fire Prince.

“Why would we watch out for the Fire Princess and Sifu Zhao?” The boy placed his fist on his hip. It was so reminiscent of Kya that Zuko had no more doubts he was her brother.

He swallowed. If he hurt him trying to escape, Kya and the other waterbenders could just heal him up, right?

You’ve always been so weak, Zuzu. How pathetic, caring about the wellbeing of peasants.

He took a deep breath. “Because the Fire Princess and Sifu Zhao actually enjoy tormenting people, unlike the Fire Prince and his uncle. Iroh’s idea of punishment is lukewarm tea.”

“And why should we trust your word for it, masked man?” The girl furled and unfurled her fan, eyes narrowing.

All the tension’s back, and the heat of his breath bouncing back at him under his heavy wooden mask was simply stifling. He forced himself to breathe steadily.

“I can’t make you trust me this instant,” he shrugged, fire flickering. “You only have my word. Take it or leave it.”

“Hmm. Alright, Lee.”

The girl stepped back and for a split second Zuko thought the interrogation was over but  then there was a flash of metal and his mask clattered painfully against his jaw— bits of blue-painted wood scattered in the air as the metal fan made its way back to its owner.

Zuko roared and twisted the flame in his hand into a whip but the girl nimbly leapt into the trees and before he could find her he heard the boomerang whistling its way towards him— he ducked just in time for its sharp edge to graze the top part of his mask.

Retreating was the best option. He will not be unmasked. Especially by two wanna-be investigators.

He punched the ground and sent a wave of fire hurtling towards the boy, not enough to seriously injure, but just enough to send him yelping and dancing away to stomp the fire from his boots.

Zuko glanced up at the trees. He can’t do anything to deter the girl now, but if she bothered to pursue him on open ground, he could easily manage.

He fled as fast as he could, making a beeline for the corners of the courtyard, and finally disappeared into the shadows.

Suki jumped down from her perch, grinning.

“That was fun,” she remarked, tucking her fan into her belt. “I’m still pretty sure Haru’s right, though. Dunno if you’re convinced, but it wasn’t a waste of a night…”

She caught sight of Sokka slumped against a tree trunk and she grimaced guiltily.

“Um, yeah. Sorry for dragging you away from your date,” she rubbed her arm self-consciously. “But our mission’s over, so…”

He still hasn’t moved from his hunched position. Suki frowned; it was the first time he saw him this… despondent. Maybe she could try to brighten  him up, the Sokka way.

She performed an elaborate, old-fashioned bow reserved for Earth Kingdom monarchs. “Your service to this country is much appreciated, m’lord. Your princess awaits.”

“Yeah, about that,” Sokka shrugged and scratched the side of his head with his boomerang, making Suki flinch at his carelessness. She caught his arm before he could cut himself.

“Hey,” she grasped his wrist reassuringly, but in her mind she was still carefully choosing the right words to say. “I’m here if you wanna…  maybe… talk about it?”

He shrugged out of her grip, rubbed his arm, picked at the skin of his elbow, scrutinized the hem of his sleeve, scuffed the toe of his singed boots on the ground. Suki waited patiently.

He sighed and crumpled to the ground, head in hands.

“She’s engaged.”

“What?” She yelped and covered her mouth. The tsungi horn would cover any noise in the woods, but they’d pushed their luck enough. She lowered her voice just a smidge. “How can she be engaged? We’re practically the same age! That’s too young!”

He lifted one shoulder, jostling his head in the process. When he spoke, his voice was muffled by his arms.

“She’s almost sixteen. Sixteen is the marrying age in the Water Tribes,” he muttered. Suki started towards him— then jumped when he slammed his fist into the ground.

“I can’t believe I thought I had a chance !”  He punctuated his words with punches, “I don’t get it— one minute she wants to go out with me, the next minute she tells me it’s all just a mistake— ”

The rage left as quickly as it came and he visibly deflated, head slumping back to his knees.

“I never thought a girl like her would even notice a guy like me. She’s a princess, and I’m… I’m just a Southern peasant. But she said she really liked me, so I thought I had a chance. I even carved her this.”

He rummaged through the front of his tunic and held out a lopsided wooden... thing. Suki  crouched down and tried to decipher what it was.

“It’s a nice bear,” she ventured uncertainly. Sokka finally looked up just to scowl at her and roll his eyes to the heavens.

“It’s a fish! It has fins and everything!” He sighed dramatically. “You have no appreciation for art.”

“ Oh- kay then, it’s a fish,” Suki sat down in front of him, a few feet of dewy grass between them. There was a moment of silence as Sokka examined the poorly-crafted fish and Suki tugged awkwardly at the blades of grass at her feet. Finally, Suki couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Do you know? Who she’s engaged to?”

Sokka traced circles on the ground with his fish’s… head? tail? fin? before he answered.

“I don’t know him. But I do know she doesn’t love him. She doesn’t even like him.” He heaved a huge sigh. “But she loves her people. Even though she’s not marrying them, but whatever.”

He tossed the carving in the air and caught it, tossed it and caught it, again and again until he missed and the fish clattered off somewhere in the dark. He sprawled out on the muddy earth with a frustrated huff. Suki followed suit in a much less sloppy manner, picking spots less touched by rain. Together, they stared up at the dark canopy of leaves.

“Have you ever liked anyone?” Sokka asked, tucking his hands behind his head.

“Of course I have,” Suki pushed herself up onto her elbows and side-eyed him defensively. “I am a warrior, but I’m a girl, too.”

Sokka kept his eyes on the darkness above. “When does liking someone stop sucking so bad?”

Suki plopped back down onto the ground. “I don’t really know. It just sort of… faded, y’know? It disappeared before it could actually hurt. Guess it was because I was just a kid back then.”

There was a pause and she thought he’d tell her that she was still a kid, that she was acting like such a girl , but he never did.

Instead, he said, “Guess things are just harder since we’re not kids anymore.”

She watched as the wind rustled the leaves and stars peeked out at her. It was the first clear night they’ve had in months, but the heaviness  in the air remained.

The heaviness never really let up, though.

“Yeah, I guess we’re not really kids anymore.”

Chapter Text

“I’m so excited for Ember Island. Let’s go buy new clothes there for the Fire Days Ball,” Suki said as she rolled her shoulders after their spar.

“Wow, you just said a bunch of stuff I don’t know, Suki,” replied Katara. “What’s on Ember Island? What’s the Fire Days Ball?”

Suki grinned excitedly. “Ember Island’s this Fire Nation tourist spot that students can go to on some weekends— it’s amazing! We can relax on the beach, hike up mountains, watch a play, go shopping—”

“Oh, don’t get her hopes up on Ember Island,” Sokka interjected. Suki cocked her head in his direction.

“Why not?”

Sokka shrugged, still polishing his boomerang. “Because we can’t go.”

“Why can’t we go? What’s going on?” Katara asked, poking her brother’s shoulder. He looked up at her with a pout.

“Because the ferry to Ember Island costs money , Katara,” he explained with a wave of his hand. “And shopping costs money. You don’t see copper pieces falling out of Dad’s letters, do you?”

Suki’s painted red lips formed an “o”. She adjusted her skirts sheepishly. “I’m sorry, you guys.”

Katara scrunched up her face in reply and Sokka bleated a soft, “Eeh,” of dismissal, as though the siblings weren’t missing much, even though his face said he would’ve gone if he could.

“Maybe I could buy you something for the ball,” Suki told Katara thoughtfully as they walked back to the direction of the Great Hall.

“Oh, you really don’t—”

“Bah, I want to,” Suki dismissed. “Call it an early ‘Congrats on Surviving Your First Year at the Academy’ present.” She turned to Sokka, a wry smile on her lips. “Anything you want aside from a cone of grilled meat?”

Sokka beamed at her and flicked an imaginary tear from his eyes. “I can’t believe you know me so well.”

Katara rolled her eyes at her brother and glanced around. It was still early for them to turn in— she’d practically memorized Sokka’s and Suki’s fighting styles now, so their spars these days began earlier and ended before the nightly rains started— and while Katara had missed training with these two warriors, she had also gotten used to the presence of the other benders in their group.

She flinched as she remembered that Haru had come down with a cold because she’d started incorporating more ice into her technique the past few days— and while Suki assured her that he was fine and just needed plenty of soup and rest, Katara couldn’t help but feel guilty.

She also couldn’t help but feel guilty because her first reaction had been, “But I freeze Lee all the time and he never got sick.”

But maybe Lee did catch a cold, too, because he hadn’t shown up to spar with her in quite a while.

Or maybe he just told the sifus about their training sessions.

He wouldn’t do that, Katara thought, clutching her mother’s necklace. We’re friends now, aren’t we?

Plus, he’d been getting better at controlling his temper and his fire. Once he got a hold of those, he was surprisingly… alright . A bit rough around the edges, but altogether, he didn’t fit the ruthless image of a firebender that Katara had in her mind.

“I never want to scar someone,” he’d apologized to them, the last time they sparred. It was a particularly tiring match between the three of them, but the hard work was rewarded: Haru learned how to make columns of earth that would push his opponent into the sky, and Katara figured out that she could counter Lee’s fire with just a breath.

He did slightly singe the two of them again, though.

“Hey, don’t worry about that,” she told him, wiggling her fingers in front of his mask. “I’m a healer, remember?”

He just shook his head, and Katara fought the instinct to go to him, because over the course of their month-and-a-half training, she’d learned that Lee wasn’t the touchy-feely type.

“Yeah, and you’ve gotten better at controlling your explosions,” Haru assured him.

Lee rubbed the back of his head in a seemingly self-conscious gesture, and Katara placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. He jumped slightly, but he didn’t back away anymore.

“Haru’s right, Lee,” she said, “You don’t have to worry about scarring us.”

The firebender just nodded, as though he wasn’t convinced, and that night Katara had left the woods musing that if all firebenders were as scared of burning others like Lee was, then she wouldn’t have had to fear them so much in the first place.

“I’m worried about Lee,” Katara told Sokka and Suki now, twisting her fingers together, “I haven’t trained with him for a while.”

Sokka made a squeaky sound at the back of his throat, but Suki spoke up before Katara could even comment on her brother’s odd behavior.

“Lee’s the firebender you were training with, right?” Suki asked, seating herself primly on a shadowed bench and closing her eyes against the sharp wind that blew through the Eastern Courtyard.

“Yeah,” Katara sat herself on the bench beside her, fiddling with the end of her braid. She eyed the silhouettes of the students in the Fire Nation dormitory windows, wondering which one of them was Lee.

She felt guilty now for blowing up at him for burning her hair. He did apologize immediately, albeit haughtily, and save for occasional angry outbursts, he hadn’t intentionally hurt her or Haru. Besides, she wasn’t really one to talk, wasn’t she? She did freeze things whenever she got mad, so…

“Why are you so worried over a firebender?” Sokka asked, his voice breaking on the last word. Katara was immediately put on the defensive.

“Because he’s my friend, Sokka,” she replied, scowling. Her brother looked at her as though she just told him lemurs could earthbend.

“You don’t even know him!” He waved his hands frantically in the air. “How can you be friends with him? For all you know, he could be plotting evil things with the Fire Lord—”

“Sokka, not every firebender is connected to the Fire Lord! You’re making a mistake—”

“No, I’m keeping my promise to Dad— I’m protecting you from threats like him!”

“How do you even know he’s a threat? You haven’t even met him!”

“Yes, I have, Katara!” Sokka’s eyes widened at his own outburst and he immediately took a step back as Suki shot to her feet. Katara did so, too, though slowly, deliberately, with narrowed eyes.

“When was this?” she asked, frost forming at the dewy grass by her feet.

Sokka hung his head. “During music night.”

“We just wanted to know who he was, Katara,” Suki said in an odd tone.

“Well, then you’d know he’s not a threat!” Katara all but screamed. “I can’t believe you guys!”

She stomped away with her fists clenched, blatantly ignoring Sokka’s cries of, “Katara, wait! We can explain!”

The air was heavy with the smell of a brewing storm. Azula smiled.

She always liked nights like these; nights that stood on the precipice of breaking, nights that kept one guessing, nights filled with a quiet, intense rumbling of energy. Nights when every slight movement can trigger the electricity at her fingertips.

She couldn’t produce lightning yet, no, but she could feel it, the same way she felt the fire in her veins in every sunrise. Even at night, even at her weakest, she could feel the static, ready to burst forth in the dark sky.

Lightning will come when it will, and when it does, she will learn how to master it.

That was the main difference between her and her brother— Zuko was impatient, brash, and lacked foresight. He never seemed to realize that the more he pushed, the more resistance he met.

Azula pitied him for that. She’d already tracked the Fire Nation navy’s progress on the hunt for the Avatar just by mere observation alone: Zhao’s constant absences, papers left on the table after Iroh had tea with Jeong Jeong, the sudden silence every time she neared the waterbending Sifus.

Zuko would have gained so much if he just let her help him.

Not that he’d believe her if she told him that, but still.

She wondered what her brother has found, poring over decaying scrolls in the library— if he was still doing that. He hadn’t made a midnight visit to the Air Nomads’ section in weeks.

Did he find something that I hadn’t?

She snorted. No, Zuko was not that sharp. He probably got frustrated and gave up, weakling that he was.

Azula exhaled sharply. She could have had Mai tell her what Zuko was up to, but the two were still caught up in their unnecessary drama. Not that Azula was complaining. She always questioned her friend’s sanity for having a crush on Zuko, of all people.

Good for Mai to finally see the light.

But bad for Azula, because now she was down one spy— now she had to resort to waiting in the shadows of the shelves in the middle of the night, waiting for her brother the enter the library so she could find out his plans.

If he ever comes back here, that is.

He could already hear the water sloshing erratically as he approached.

“Stupid Sokka . Stupid Suki .”

He paused in his steps. She sounded angry, and while he had somehow gotten used to her being angry, he wasn’t stupid enough to startle an irate waterbender in the full moon while it was drizzling.

So he loudly made his way to the riverbank, his shoes squelching unpleasantly in the mud, and waited for her to notice his presence.

She finally turned around after hefting a giant swirling orb of water from the river, which she promptly dropped on both of them when she saw him.

“Lee! You’re here!” For one horrible moment he thought she might hug him from giddiness. Instead, she whisked away the water from their clothes with a flick of her wrist. Zuko barely had time to feel relieved before she glowered at him. “Where were you? I was really worried!”

“Worried?” He couldn’t fight the surprise in his tone— why would she be worried?

After all, she has no reason to trust me. Didn’t her brother tell her who I am?

She crossed her arms over her chest with a huff. “Yes, I was worried! You disappeared for days!”

“I didn’t tell anyone about your midnight training, if that’s what you were worried about,” he replied warily.

“That’s not what I was worried about,” she rolled her eyes at him and he stared at her, unmoving, until she shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. “Okay, maybe I was a tiny bit worried about that, but then I found out about what my meddling brother and best friend did—”

A choking sound escaped Zuko but she didn’t seem to notice.

“— and, well, I got worried they scared you off,” she continued. Her face hardened a smidge. “I still can’t believe they’d do that to one of my friends. As if I can’t make my own decisions.”

Zuko blinked beneath his mask.

“You consider me your friend?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he fought the urge to hit himself in the head.

She gave him a bemused smile.

“Of course, silly.”

His mind caught up with the situation and he realized that her brother and the Kyoshi warrior might not have been sure enough of his identity to warn her about him. He ducked his head and resolved to do what he came here to do.

“Would I still be your friend if you knew who I was?” he asked, not daring to look at her, his heart beating frantically somewhere around his throat.

“See, that’s the thing,” he felt her move closer to him, and he backed away. He heard her sigh and stop a few paces shy of him. “I do know you, Lee.”

“Don’t be presumptuous.”

This is hard enough as it is. Please don’t make it harder by proving that you do know me.

“But I do!” She insisted emphatically, moving forward so she could peer into the eyes of his mask. “I know you don’t like being touched and I know you favor your right side and sometimes you have trouble hearing little noises on your left. I know you’re having problems with that one move you keep trying to do when you don’t think we’re around to see you practice.”

“Of course you’d know those things, they’re just tactical— we’ve been sparring for weeks—”

She barrelled on, undeterred.

“I know you think you’re not a good bender and you get frustrated easily but I also know you’re holding back because you’re afraid you’re gonna scar us. I know you think being tough is the only way to learn, but I know you still don’t like seeing us get hurt and I know you don’t know how to comfort us whenever you burn us accidentally. It’s like you don’t want to show you care about us, because you think it makes you look weak or something, but I know you do care.”

She took a deep breath and twisted her fingers together. Zuko braced himself for what was coming, because after she’d laid him out like that, like a map whose lines she just traced expertly with a slender finger, what else could follow?

“I know you think I still don’t trust you, and I’m really sorry I made you feel that way when we first met. I now only realized— you apologize way too much for things you can’t control, it’s as if you feel that everything you do is wrong. And maybe… maybe someone made you feel that way so much that even now you still don’t think you deserve anything from other people, and I’m sorry if I made things worse for you by making you think you can’t be trusted just because you’re a firebender. But you’re a good person, Lee. I trust you now, and I really want you to think of me as your friend, with or without your mask.”

With fire in his veins, he was familiar with all sorts of heat— but this... this kind of warmth was not something he was used to. Never in his life did he have to deal with this… this... almost aggressive torrent of kindness, not without paying a price. There had to be a catch somewhere. The spirits would ruin this. His luck wouldn’t allow it.

She regarded him as he stood there, unaware that his palms were sweating and his breathing was shallow. She bit her lip anxiously.

“Please don’t push us away, Lee,” she said, as though she heard his thoughts. Her hand traced the pendant of the necklace she always wore, her brow furrowed in thought. “I— I don’t know if this will make things easier or better, but I haven’t been completely honest with you, too.”

The lump cleared in his throat just enough for him to croak out, “What?”

“My name’s not Kya,” she blurted out, averting her gaze. “It’s Katara.”

“Katara,” he repeated, slowly testing the new name. He already knew she was lying when she told him her name on that first night they met, but the revelation blanketed him with the immense feeling of vulnerability.

He could now go to the Water Tribes table and approach her like he’d seen Haru do at lunchtime. He could now call out to her when they pass by each other in the hallway, and she’d turn around.

Except she won’t, because she still didn’t know what he looked like.

He sighed, every ounce of him protesting the idea of telling her who he is, but wasn’t this what he came here to do? Worse comes to worst, he’d stick to his original plan and sever all contact.

But hadn’t she said they were friends?

Well, let’s see how much of a friend she really is.

He let the reckless part of him untie the mask’s strings.

There’s a sharp intake of breath as he pulled the mask away from his face, and the immense feeling of vulnerability came back full force— only this time, instead of simply blanketing him, it threatened to suffocate him.

He finally mustered the courage to look at her.

“Do you still trust me?”

She— Katara, her name is Katara— didn’t speak and instantly he knew it was a mistake to do this, because her blue, blue eyes were wide with fear and her hands covered her mouth and when she took a step backwards, he realized that maybe this wasn’t a mistake because Zuko was Zuko and he never had luck on his side and this was how it was meant to be between the children of water and the children of fire. Their budding friendship was just a fluke and he should have known better, he should have known from the start—

Everyone’s bound to leave me, anyway.

He can’t. He can’t watch her leave. Not after she offered him something he never realized he longed for.

But running away felt too much like giving up, and Zuko never gave up— people gave up on him, so he forced himself to stand his ground and wait for the inevitable.

She lowered her hands from her face and managed to speak.

“You’re the Fire Prince.”

Her tone was flat— no disbelief, no anger, no fear. Just stating facts, but underneath it all, he knew she was forcefully holding down a dam of emotions. He could see it in the way her fingers trembled before closing into a fist. A few raindrops hung suspended in midair between them.

“My real name’s Zuko,” he offered, as though it will make this bitter tea easier to swallow.

“Zuko,” she repeated slowly, drawing out each syllable, testing the way the his name tasted in her mouth.

Then she ran to the waterline and emptied the contents of her stomach into the river. He didn’t even have time to register what just happened before she dropped on all fours and was heaving again.

Zuko took a step forward, then a step back. How was he supposed to help out when she got sick because of him? Was he even supposed to help? Like, rub her back or something?

He pinched the bridge of his nose. She was right— she did know him well enough. He was horrible at showing his concern.

It was a problem with Mai, too. He could never seem to get it right.

But he had to try, because she hadn’t bolted the second he saw him, and in Zuko’s book,  after he got his scar, that counted for something.

“K-Katara?”

She staggered up, taking a gulp of water from her pouch as she did.

“I…” Her hand fiddled with her necklace once more. “I think I have to go.”

She spared him one last unreadable glance before running away into the drizzling night.

He expected this. He shouldn’t be feeling this angry. He shouldn’t feel the need to destroy everything in his path.

But that’s how his life was. He destroyed everything he touched.

He didn’t even care about the damage his ring of fire dealt on the trees around him. The rain would take care of the flames.

Sokka was rarely right, so whenever he was, he tended to gloat.

Not this time, though.

It was hard enough seeing his sister in this state— going from raging fury one moment to defeated moping the next. So many things set her off these days that it was pretty hard to gloat, especially when he constantly had to remind her not to splash someone with her magic water.

It wasn’t his fault. Not really. They both knew it. All of them did. It was only natural that he and Suki would try and find out Lee’s real identity after Haru told them of his suspicions. And it wasn’t Haru’s fault that he realized who the firebender was.

If anything, it was ol’ Jerkbender’s fault for not covering his tracks better.

He still didn’t expect his sister to be like this after it was all over, though. This wasn’t in the plan.

Sokka sighed, ladling more five flavor soup into a bowl and sliding it over to a currently downcast Katara. Food usually made people feel better, right? Or, at least, distract them enough from their thoughts.

Maybe this would be better with Haru. She and Katara spent more time with Jerkbender, after all.

“Hey, Sokka?”

Well, at least she’s talking to him again. Her cold shoulders were famously icy.

“Yeah, sis?”

Katara frowned thoughtfully at her soup before stirring it distractedly with her bending.

“Why do some benders use weapons?”

Okay, that was not what he was expecting. Why would she ask about weapons now? It wasn’t even remotely connected to—

Oh, maybe it was. The Fire Prince never used his dao swords when they trained together, didn’t he? If he did, they all would have known who he was. He’s the only one who ever used those twin weapons.

He shrugged. “Benders have the option to use weapons to round out their qualifications.”

Her hand hovered over the soup. “Qualifications for what?”

Sokka winced. She would find out sooner or later, but given her current state of mind, he really didn’t want to delve into the specifics.

Then again, it would distract her from a certain firebender. Hopefully.

“For the military service that comes after you finish your training here,” he replied as offhandedly as he could.

To his surprise, she didn’t seem too fazed.

“That’s what Jet said,” her eyes flickered to the Earth Kingdom table and Sokka rolled his eyes.

Ugh. Jet.

“The Fire Nation’s just using us, aren’t they?” she gritted out, the contents of her bowl sloshing around dangerously.

Uh oh. Not good. Not good, not good, not good. He resisted the urge to slap a hand over her mouth. She was already upset enough back home when she had to hide her bending— now she had to learn that she’s just being trained to be a soldier against her own people.

At least when Sokka applied for the Academy, he knew what was in store for him, especially once he was finished. Their father also told them it would benefit the tribe, but Katara? Katara knew nothing, and she had no choice but to go.

Granted, she really wanted to go, but she didn’t know any better.

Maybe he should have told her what Dad said, instead of letting her figure it out on her own.

“Dad fought in the war, you know that,” he replied delicately, before shoving spoonfuls of komodo chicken and rice into his mouth. Keeping his mouth full would buy him time for all of his sister’s questions.

“I thought Dad fought for our side.” Katara pushed her bowl away and leaned her cheek on one arm. “Why would he agree to that? Why would you? Why would anyone?”

“Mmm mmph, mmm-mm-mmm,” Sokka motioned to his bulging cheeks, but she narrowed her eyes at him and flicked his wrist.

“Mouthfuls of food never stopped you from talking, Sokka.”

He swallowed with great effort and leaned closer to her.

“Katara, sending people to the Academy gives the tribe some sort of protection,” he lowered his voice as he explained the things he didn’t really fully understand. “The Fire Nation will only leave us alone if we follow their rules— it’s part of some treaty or pact or something.”

What he didn’t say out loud was what his father told him— if the other countries rebelled openly against the Fire Nation, the Fire Nation would do what they saw fit to the children. And if the children didn’t comply with the Academy’s curriculum… who knew what they’d do to their parents?

I should’ve stopped Katara when she started training at midnight.

“Look— we just have to keep our heads down. Serve our time, for the good of the tribe. You get that, right?”

Katara slumped sullenly onto the table. “Is this why Dad left when… when Mom… you know?”

Sokka chanced a glance around them. Most of the students in the Great Hall were already retiring for the night.

“That was different,” he said carefully. He wasn’t much older than she was when Dad left them, but as the only remaining man of the village, he took it upon himself to learn what he could about the brief disappearance of half the tribe. “From what I know, they pulled out all the Southern Water Tribe kids because the Fire Nation broke the rules by attacking us. So they had nothing to lose when they fought the war for our side.”

But then the other countries severed their trade lines with the tribe, and now their numbers were dwindling, the entire village was on the brink of starvation, poverty was through the roof, and their father had basically forced Sokka to enter the Academy in order to revive what was left of the tribe.

“You don’t have to think about those stuff right now, Katara.” Sokka reassuringly placed an arm around his sister. “Let’s just go to bed, okay?”

She hadn’t trained in almost a week.

After almost a year of sleeping late, she’d have thought her body would appreciate the long overdue rest.

But no. Instead, she was filled with pent up energy, and even here in the bowels of the Academy, in the dungeons where benders’ battles were held when it was raining too hard outside. Even here where everything was stale and stagnant, she could feel her element calling to her.

But what did it matter, anyway? Even if she learned combative bending, whatever skills she got will be used by the nation that took her mother away from her.

If she was going to be a soldier of the Fire Nation, then she might as well be their worst one.

Except she won’t be a soldier, wouldn’t she? She’d be relegated to the sidelines, healing wounds that shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

Healing wounds that she wanted to inflict.

The Academy was a death sentence, wasn’t it? The Fire Nation couldn’t inspire loyalty in the other countries, so they took their children and taught them to be loyal to the Academy instead.

So wrapped up in her thoughts she was that she didn’t notice the chunk of rock hurtling towards her.

What she did notice was the echoing silence after she instinctively sliced the slab with a water whip in each hand.

Oh no.

She promptly dropped her water to the stone floor.

In the clearing dust she saw Sifu Pakku  approach her, eyes narrowed suspiciously. His movement triggered a chain reaction— the spectators of the benders’ battle burst into agitated whispers, and she heard Sokka groan quietly behind her. Across the arena, she could see Haru’s tense posture, Suki’s set jaw, and the rest of the Water Tribe girls’ fearful looks.

Katara tried not to notice the disgust and disappointment in her fellow tribeswomen’s eyes.

“Where did you learn that move, girl?”

Sifu Pakku towered over her, and his stiff posture and lined face reminded her of the frozen mountains back home— unyielding, and deadly.

This should have been enough to quail her, to tell him it was just instinctual bending, nothing more, but the way he spat out girl like an insult—

She stuck her chin in the air defiantly. “I taught myself.”

She heard Sokka squeak behind her. It was enough to send her heart pounding in her throat— what will they do to Dad and Gran-Gran— but if there’s one thing Katara’s good at, it’s braving the storm.

She met Pakku’s livid stare with one of her own.

Ice spikes shot up from the floor, and for a minute Katara thought she did that— her bending had been erratic since Lee— since the Fire Prince— since Zuko— but then the spikes turned sharply toward her, and Sokka barely had time to dive out of the way when another set of spikes encircled her.

“The women learn from Yugoda to use their waterbending to heal,” Pakku began, his tone smooth but barely concealing the simmering anger underneath. He walked ‘round her, and Katara whipped around, never letting him out of her sight.

“I don’t want to heal, I want to fight!” She snarled, but was all too aware of the hollow thump of her empty water skin against her hip.

No matter. Water is everywhere. Water would protect her.

Pakku tucked his hands into his sleeves, and stood even straighter. “Our tribe has customs, rules—”

“Well, your rules stink. They’re not fair!” The spikes around her were melting at a considerable rate. “And I am not from your tribe, because in the South, we do not judge a warrior based on the gender they were born!”

There was a commotion by the entrance of the arena— suddenly, the spikes melted into mere puddles, and Pakku bowed to the newcomer.

Katara didn’t even notice the world outside her and Pakku, but someone must have called the headmaster, because here he was, looking benignly at her as though she was not just about to attack a waterbending master.

She crossed her arms and did not bow.

Headmaster Iroh did not seem to mind. Instead, he turned to the remaining onlookers— Katara’s outburst had gathered a lot, apparently, since she could now see Jet in the crowd with his Freedom Fighters, and they rarely stayed to watch these battles.

“This has been a… rather exciting benders’ battle,” Iroh started with a small smile. “However, I must cut the excitement short. Children, if you may return to your dormitories?”

This was met with a general noise of protest, but the other sifus quickly ushered them out.

Katara made to follow her brother into the throng, but Headmaster Iroh held up a hand.

“Not you, Miss Katara.”

Oh well. It was worth a shot.

At this point she didn’t even wonder how he knew her name. Everything turned upside down and inside out when she found out Lee was Zuko the Fire Prince. Nothing else surprised her now.

Iroh motioned for Sifu Pakku to join him a ways away; Katara could hear the headmaster consulting the teacher, and the bubbling anger Katara felt a few minutes before dissipated into clouds of fear.

She was going to be expelled, she just knew it. She wanted to say something to defend herself, but there seemed to be something wrong with her voice. Now she’d done it. She’d be packing her bags in ten minutes. What would her family say when she turned up on the tundra?

Gran-Gran will never let me hear the end of this.

Her stomach twisted as she imagined it, watching Sokka and the others becoming warriors and trained benders, while she stumped around in the South Pole just cooking and cleaning.

Finally, after a few minutes that seemed like hours of heated debate between the two— Katara was surprised to hear them talk as equals— Headmaster Iroh approached her.

“It seems you’ve caused quite a stir, Miss Katara,” the old man said with a twinkle in his eye. Katara felt her resolve return.

“He started it! I was only defending myself against a rock that could have killed me,” she said, crossing her arms.

The headmaster chuckled. “Such passion. However, we do honor the culture of other countries here in the Academy. Normally, such transgression as yours would result in expulsion—” Katara gulped— “but I suspect Sifu Pakku might be convinced to let you stay if you swallow your pride and apologize to him.”

Katara exhaled sharply through her nose. “Fine.”

Pakku sent her a smug, tight-lipped smile from behind Iroh. “I’m waiting, little girl.”

Frost crept up her feet. Why should she apologize just so she could stay at the Academy and be a puppet to the Fire Nation? Why should she apologize for learning how to defend herself? Why should she apologize for being a girl?

“No!” She clenched her fists and puddles froze around them. How dare he control her future like this? “No way am I apologizing to a sour old man like you!”

Pots of water broke across the arena.

Yes. Water will protect her.

“I'll be outside if you're man enough to fight me,” she snarled, striding to the great double doors.

Chapter Text

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It was all Sokka could do not to topple over as his sister pushed open the door he was listening at. She strode out of the arena with a fury that would put storms to shame, but Sokka was used to her anger, so he barreled through the crowd after her. 

“Katara! Katara, wait!” He shouted over the heads of the other students, losing track of Katara’s tiny frame. He whipped his head around, looking for Suki or Haru or Yue or Gumi. 

Where’s the backup when you need them?

He saw Suki waving at him urgently from the stairs, mouthing something about the training grounds, and Sokka nodded and pushed past the pressing bodies in the underground corridor. 

He and the Kyoshi warrior emerged in the Great Hall just as Katara made her way to the Western Courtyard, unmindful of the rain. Sokka waited for Haru catch up with them— he’d passed by him when he’d cleared the stairs— before sprinting into the wet grounds after his sister. 

He didn’t know how Katara knew where the male waterbenders trained— he suspected Suki had something to do with that— but he followed her resolutely, undeterred by the slick stone steps carved onto the face of the cliff. He almost fell flat on his face at a sudden turn, stumbling into the shrubbery— he frowned at Suki as she nimbly jumped over him to get to the clearing. 

“Show off!” He shouted at her back, but she just gave him an exasperated look. By the time he disentangled himself from the branches, Haru and some of the other Water Tribe kids were already making their way down the precarious cliffside. 

“Where did Katara go? What is this place?” Gumi asked shrilly, the wind whipping her sodden hair in her face. 

“It’s our training grounds,” Akkad answered from behind her, his tone suggesting some sort of exclusivity, as though the place was sacred and Katara had no right to go there. 

Sokka bristled. “It’s the waterbenders’ training grounds, and my sister can use it if she wants, because she’s a friggin’ waterbender!”

The other boy approached him, steel in his eyes. “She can’t go here, because she’s a girl.”

“So what?” Sokka puffed his chest up, staring down his friend. “She can fight! I bet she can clean these grounds with your butt!”

Akkad’s fists clenched at his sides, but before he could do anything else, Sifu Pakku appeared at the top of the steps. Students flattened themselves against the wet cliff face to let him pass. 

He walked to the training grounds, stiff-backed, face stony, hands tucked into his dripping sleeves. 

“So, you decided to show up?” Katara called from the clearing, her figure so small against the open ocean behind her. Water sprayed over the edges of the outcropping, and for a second, Sokka didn’t see his sister— he saw someone fierce and wild and unknown .

Please, Tui and La, please don’t let her get hurt. 

Sifu Pakku’s lips pressed into a thin line and he picked his way down to the training grounds with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Sokka gulped and let the crowd’s flow lead him to his sister.

“Well? Aren’t you going to fight?” Katara was challenging Pakku by the time Sokka stumbled to Suki, who watched from the edge of the clearing. 

Pakku didn’t seem impressed by Katara’s words.

“Go back to the healing hut with the other girls where you belong,” he said in a clipped tone, already dismissing the sodden girl before him. 

Somewhere near Sokka, Akkad grunted in agreement. Seething, Sokka stomped to the other boy— who does this jerk think he is — but then a gasp went through the crowd and he stopped in his tracks.

Katara had created two dirty water whips in her hands, glowering at the waterbending master’s retreating back. From the two wet gashes in Pakku’s robes, Sokka knew his sister had finally snapped and attacked.

Pakku froze where he stood, then whirled around with a speed that seemed impossible for someone his age. Streams of water rushed towards Katara, who jumped back clumsily.

“Fine. You want to learn to fight so bad?” Great rings of water separated the two benders from the crowd, and Pakku advanced, the circling water growing smaller as he did, forcing Katara into close range. “Study closely!”

Before he could do anything else, Katara broke the water ring and forced it all back on Pakku, who deftly transformed it into a shield of ice with a flick of his wrists— Katara slid up the ice wall with a small wave, but Pakku melted the ice as she gained height, forcing her to quickly skirt around him as the wave receded. She fell into stance and drew ice spears from the rain, sending them at her opponent with a shout. He reformed the spears into one powerful jet that knocked Katara off her feet.

“Katara!” Sokka found himself running to where his sister had fallen, but she cast him a fleeting glare and he felt ice clamp down on his ankles. “Dammit!” 

Katara shook out her hair and charged, a whip in one hand and a spear in the other. Pakku erected another wall of ice and Katara liquefied it, summoning the water to her side and forming a pillar of ice. She flung ice disc after ice disc at Pakku, who broke each one almost carelessly— until one flew close, surprisingly close, to his face. His expression turned from disinterest to irritation.

“Well, I’m impressed,” he said wryly, “You are an excellent waterbender.”

Katara stood from her position on the soaked grounds, her breath coming in gasps. “But you still won’t teach me, will you?”

Pakku’s mouth twisted into a displeased frown.

“No.” 

With an indignant shout, Katara summoned her remaining strength and sent the murky waters from the stream towards the master. Pakku formed her wave into a pillar and almost immediately rode the surging tower of water to her, knocking her into the bank of the trickling stream. Without even waiting for her to regain her feet, he trapped her with sharp shards of ice.

Katara struggled to stand, grasping the bars of her frozen cage, willing them to melt faster, but her head was already spinning and her chest heaved with labored breaths. Pakku stood over her imposingly, robes barely muddied and hair barely ruffled.

“You have disrespected me, my teachings, and my entire culture,” he told Katara, voice as cold as the ice surrounding her. “Repeat this little stunt, and even the headmaster will not be able to protect—”

A splash of water hit the back of Pakku’s head. 

He turned around, slowly, deliberately, and narrowed his eyes at the instigator.

“Gumi!” 

Katara broke through one of the ice bars through sheer force, bending be damned, heart thumping in her throat as she watched her friend face off with the waterbending master.

Gumi’s eyes were wide, as though she couldn’t believe what she just did. Katara half-expected her to flee from fear, but when Pakku took a step forward, she stood her ground and glared at the old man.

“I’m proud of our culture in the North, Sifu Pakku,” Gumi began, fists clenched at her sides, “But we have to stop pretending that girls can only learn healing and boys can only learn fighting. Times have changed.”

Pakku paused and tensed, and Katara found herself squeezing through the small gap she created, afraid that he would attack her untrained friend.

But Gumi didn’t seem afraid. Not anymore.

“We make ourselves weaker by hiding away half the population in the healing huts while the other half risks their lives,” Gumi stuck her chin up defiantly. “We could protect ourselves so much better if all waterbenders knew how to fight and heal!”

“You are the daughter of Kitana and Nukilik, are you not?” Pakku asked, raising his chin as well and looking down at her sternly.

Gumi’s brows furrowed. “Yes, Sifu.”

Pakku smiled mockingly. “You would turn your back on the long line of healers you descended from?” 

“No,” Gumi glowered. “But I think it’s about time I recognized the long line of warriors that I descended from. You share their blood, don’t you, Sifu Pakku?”

The sifu tensed, as though taken aback, but the hard lines on his face betrayed no emotion. 

“Very well.” He turned sharply and stepped off the training grounds, hands tucked into his sleeves. “Choose to besmirch our traditions if you must, but do keep in mind that such transgressions come with a price. I expect both of you here at sunrise; do not be late.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Katara, who stopped in her tracks as she was making her way to Gumi. 

“I want to see you training hard, girl, or I may change my mind about punishing you.”

Katara merely nodded curtly, jaw clenched. It was a victory, yes, but she knew she— and Gumi— still faced a long road ahead. 

Students filed after Pakku, but a few Water Tribe children— and Suki and Haru— hung around, watching Katara and Gumi with varied expressions. 

Sokka was the first to arrive by the two girls’ side.

“That. Was. Awesome!” He crowed, pumping his fists in the air. He then cleared his throat and attempted to school his face into a stern expression. “And stupid. Katara, you could’ve been killed— or worse, expelled!”

“You need to sort out your priorities,” Katara swatted her brother away and rushed to Gumi, hugging her tight. 

“I can’t believe you just did that, Gumi!” she gushed, and the other girl laughed weakly. “You were amazing!”

“Well, you were amazing, too,” Gumi said, her usual cheeky smile back on her face. “You gave that old coot a run for his money!”

“Yeah, but you convinced him,” Katara pointed out, grinning proudly. “I can’t believe you never told us you were related to Pakku!”

“I’m not really ,” Gumi shrugged, tugging on her braid. “It’s a far relation— his father was my great-grandpa’s second cousin, I think? It doesn’t really matter. Everyone’s sort of related in the North Pole.”

“Ugh. I can’t imagine being related to that old sourpuss,” Sokka shuddered, running his hands up and down his arms. 

“Is it really okay that you fought him? He did say something about the consequences…” Katara bit her lip, only now realizing the full extent of what Gumi did— was the North secure enough to withstand the wrath of the Fire Nation?  Pakku was Water Tribe, but did this count as an attack in the eyes of the Academy? Did Gumi even know how the Academy actually operated? 

“Would your family be okay?” Katara asked, grasping Gumi’s hands in both her own. 

The Water Tribe girl shrugged blithely. 

“I dunno. But I’m not just gonna stand around while—” Gumi suddenly hugged her arms to herself and pouted at the ground. “I don’t know what the war would bring. If— if Aunt Wu’s prediction comes true… I’m not just going to sit back and wait for it to happen.”

It took Katara a moment to remember what Aunt Wu’s prediction was— and flinched when she remembered Gumi’s sobs after hearing about her father’s possible death. 

“I want to be strong enough,” Gumi continued, meeting their eyes resolutely. “I want to fight with Dad to protect our tribe, not just wait around and see if he survives or not. I want to protect my family— I’m sure they’d understand that.”

Katara placed a hand firmly on her shoulder. “You already are strong enough, Gumi. I’m sure they’ll be proud.”

“Mom wouldn’t. She always prided herself on her healing— oh no!” She slapped her hands to her cheeks, eyes wide as saucers. “What would Mom think! She’ll call me a fool for even believing Aunt Wu! She’ll stick me in the healing huts all summer!”

“I’m sure she won’t, Gumi,” a gentle voice said from behind them. Yue smiled reassuringly at Gumi and picked her way around the puddles. “I know Healer Kitana, and she always says to follow your heart.”

“Yeah, but I think she just meant that about boys,” Gumi scratched her head. “I don’t think ‘following your heart’ means I could be a warrior if I wanted to.”

“If it helps…” Yue hesitated, fiddling with the embroidered hem of her sleeves. “I… I want to join you. The two of you.”

“Really? Does that mean…?” Katara was almost too afraid to ask. Would the Northern Water Tribe princess really subvert tradition?

Yue nodded, and her eyes landed on Sokka briefly before flicking back to Katara. “I may be too old to learn most of the combative aspect of waterbending, but I want to try.”

“Alright!” Gumi jumped up in the air. “Let’s show ‘em what ‘fight like a girl’ really means!”

Yue chuckled lightly behind her hand.

“I do hope to convince the others, as well,” Yue admitted quietly, glancing at Baya and the twins, who stood impatiently by the steps back to the Academy. She sighed. “They were raised as proper ladies, and ladies do not fight. But if the princess joins…”

Katara laid a hand on her arm reassuringly. “I’m really glad you’re on our side, Yue.”

“Thank you, Katara.” The princess regarded her for a moment with shining blue eyes. “You fought bravely earlier. I never thought combative waterbending could be so… hypnotic and mesmerizing. The way the women talked about it made it seem so gory compared to your performance.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that good, but I hope I’ll get better at it.” Katara blushed and beamed as she hopped off the training grounds. Sokka, Suki, and Haru seemed to have left without her, but she did not mind. She allowed herself to revel in the fact that two Northern girls were willing to join her when all this time she thought they’d shun her. 

“Katara, you are a talented bender. Tui and La would be proud that you are not wasting their gift.” Yue followed her to the steps and brushed past Baya and the others. Gumi skipped after the princess and stuck her tongue out at the other girls, who looked simply horrified. 

“I don’t believe I ever told you this,” Yue said, looping her hand through Katara’s arm, “I wasn’t sure if the Southern Water Tribe knew of Tui and La’s story, but Sokka…” 

She cleared her throat lightly, and Katara wondered what happened between the princess and her brother. She bit her tongue and let Yue continue. 

“Long story short... I was a sickly child, and none of the healers could figure out what was wrong with me,” she said, primly climbing up the cliffside with Katara in tow. “My father prayed and prayed to the spirits, and laid me down in the Spirit Oasis, hoping that Tui and La would listen— and they did.

“Tui gave me a fraction of his life. No matter how small or insignificant it was for him, I will not let it go to waste by not doing the right thing.” Yue tugged on her snow white hair for a second, her thin fingers combing through the strands. “I will not live a life that the Father Moon will not be proud of.”

Katara blinked at the princess, stunned at how close to the spirits the North was, awed that this girl touching her had direct contact with the first waterbenders, the spirits of the moon and the ocean.  

“Well, I’m glad you want to make use of all the aspects of your bending,” Katara said, drawing water out from her rain-soaked hair as they entered the Great Hall. “It’s what Tui and La would’ve wanted. It’s all about balance, right?”

“Yes, push and— oh!” Yue stopped abruptly and inclined her head after a pause. “Prince Zuko.”

Katara froze, her eyes still fixed somewhere on the stone floor where she discarded the water from her hair. She kept her eyes resolutely on the droplets until she saw the Fire Prince’s pointed boots pass by, presumably on the way to the Fire Nation table for dinner. 

“Fire Nation royalty are really distant, huh, unlike you, Princess Yue,” Gumi sidled up to them, clucking her tongue, and Katara allowed herself to be half-dragged to the Water Tribes’ table. “Do you know him?”

Katara’s head shot up in surprise and she opened her mouth to deny anything and everything, before she realized Gumi was talking to the Water Tribe princess. 

Yue pursed her lips thoughtfully, and Katara tried to discreetly unknot the crick in her neck from her sudden movement. 

“I think I have met him once, but maybe it was his cousin,” she said, sitting herself down. Katara and Gumi followed suit, the former moving almost robotically despite her pricked ears. “I was a small child back then, but I do remember Fire Lord Azulon and his retinue visiting us for negotiations. I was so scared, I couldn’t stop crying. Mother had me taken away from the dinner table.”

“Wow, that bad, huh?” Katara ladled soup into her bowl, hands shaking— whether it was from the sudden, flaming rage that thundered in her veins or the icy nerves that pooled at the pit of her stomach, she did not want to know, so she dealt with it the only non-violent way she knew how. “What were the negotiations about? Sacrificing more waterbenders to the Sun God? Bleeding villages dry for power?”

Gumi choked on her seaweed noodles in poorly-disguised laughter. Yue deigned to ignore Katara’s bitter barbs. 

“I believe it was something to solidify the relationship between the Northern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation.” Yue lifted one shoulder delicately.  “Father did not agree to it, and when I asked about it when I was older… well, you know princesses aren’t part of the decision-making process.”

“Oh!” Gumi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “What if you were supposed to be betrothed to the Fire Prince instead of Hahn!” 

This time, both Yue and Katara choked on their noodles. 

“It… wouldn’t be impossible,” Yue said hesitantly, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, “Oh, just when I thought I’d never feel relieved that I was betrothed to Hahn…”

“Yeah!” Gumi chuckled. “Imagine having to marry a firebender. Ugh!”

“I suppose I should be glad,” Yue mused, “At least I’m secure knowing Hahn would never hurt me.”

“Not all firebenders want to hurt people,” Katara blurted out. The Northern girls looked at her as though she’d declared she wanted to leave the Academy to sell cabbages in the Earth Kingdom. She cleared her throat of wayward noodles and frantically glanced around. 

“I-I mean! Look at the headmaster!” She waved to the Head Table in panic, where Iroh’s booming laughter could be heard. Yue acquiesced with a tilt of her head. 

“That is true,” the princess replied thoughtfully. “And Sifu Pakku is from the Northern Water Tribe and he nearly hurt you, had Headmaster Iroh not intervened.” 

The trio lapsed into silence. Katara found herself glancing over at the Fire Nation table, where Lee— Zuko— the Fire Prince— was seated away from his chattering peers, a scowl on his face as he ate, and Katara wondered if he really meant it when he said he never wanted to scar anyone. 

He didn’t see her fight. 

The whole Academy— from the students to the sifus— was abuzz with how she fought, and he didn’t see it. 

He shouldn’t want to see it— shouldn’t want to see her — but his stupid, stupid brain seemed to be on heightened alert whenever he heard her name. 

It was morbidly ironic, considering he’d only known her real name for one night— the one night she’d told him she trusted him, then turned away and left with fear in her eyes— now he was hearing it everywhere he went. Katara, Katara. Katara. How the spirits loved to toy with him. 

“It was so beautiful!” Ty Lee gushed from his sister’s side. Why the acrobat had taken to watching benders’ battles was beyond Zuko, but it was from her that he’d heard the news. 

“It was splashing water back and forth,” Mai said tersely across Ty Lee, and Zuko found himself inching away guiltily, even though at least three students separated the two of them. He’d been so preoccupied with midnight training that he’d barely spared her a thought, but if she cared at all, she didn’t bother to show it. As was typical. 

“The Water Tribes really are as backwards as the stories go, huh? Not allowing girls to fight is just wrong," Ruon Jian commented, brushing his hair back. Zuko rolled his eyes at the teen’s observation. 

“Oh, Ruon Jian, it’s just a different culture,” Ty Lee pouted, her braid bouncing as she turned to face the boy. “I mean, there used to be a Royal Academy for Girls before Sozin's time, so we know that teaching girls in the Fire Nation goes way back, but I still think it’s brave that Katara insisted that Water Tribe girls should be taught to fight, even though it's against their traditions, you know? Now she really stands out.”

“You’d know all about standing out, don’t you, Ty Lee?” Azula remarked, voice sweet but dripping with disdain. Ty Lee’s shoulders slumped. 

“I just think it was nice, what Katara did,” muttered the girl, picking up a dumpling and shoving it into her mouth petulantly. 

“However nice it was, Ty Lee, it doesn’t quite matter,” Azula said primly. “She will still be relegated to healing after she finishes her training, after all.”

“How could you say that?” Ty Lee cried out, echoing the exact words in Zuko’s head. “The Fire Nation would be so lucky to have her on our side!”

Azula’s laugh was a little too mocking and a little too venomous.

“Oh, Ty Lee, your optimism is so admirable,” she said, in a way that told the rest of the table that the acrobat was a simpleton, “Now that the Water Tribe peasant has revealed her… talent… and her apparent disregard for rules, do you honestly believe she will be allowed to fight in the frontlines? Where she could turn on us all?”

Ty Lee folded into herself a little. “I… I suppose not, Azula.”

Zuko heard enough— he stood up and left the Great Hall, thoughts scrambling over one another in his head. 

He wasn’t exactly immune to Azula’s words— frankly, he’s still convinced that Agni himself created little sisters to torment their big brothers— but seeing her treat her so-called friends that way… it was oddly upsetting. 

He wondered, not for the first time, how Mai could put up with his sister. 

Mai could probably put up with his father for years on end and not even flinch. Somehow, the thought failed to comfort Zuko. 

He stalked off to his uncle’s chambers— he wasn’t stupid, he knew Azula had been waiting for him to show up in the library ever since his failed reconciliation with Mai— and firmly shut the heavy doors behind him. 

Ever since his midnight escapades ended, he’d taken to visiting his uncle more. Iroh had simply smiled and asked what tea he wanted when Zuko turned up at his office one morning before meditation. Whether or not the headmaster knew his underlying reasons— both for discontinuing their tea sessions and for restarting them seemingly out of the blue— he didn’t press Zuko to tell him, and for that he was deeply grateful.

The doors to the headmaster’s chambers opened, and Zuko was surprised that his uncle didn’t enter alone. 

“Ah, Prince Zuko,” Zhao sneered, his armor clanging as he stepped through the threshold, “What brings you here?”

“I do not believe my nephew needs a reason to visit me, Commander Zhao,” Zuko glanced at his uncle over Zhao’s shoulder and saw his pinched, less-than-pleased features. “Whereas you…”

The commander ignored the thinly-veiled insinuation and sat before Iroh’s desk uninvited. He appraised Zuko with a smirk. 

“So, how is your search for the Avatar going?”

Zuko glared at him, fists clenched. “I haven't found him yet.”

Zhao laughed humorlessly. 

“Did you really expect to? Reading every single scroll in the Academy's library will do nothing for your mission,” he said, mouth curled into a sneer. His following words dripped with false nonchalance. “Unless you have found some evidence that the Avatar is alive?”

“No,” Zuko swallowed and averted his gaze. Truthfully, he hadn’t been as consumed at finding the Avatar in months, and surprisingly, it hadn’t bothered him. Until now. “I’ve found nothing.”

Zhao huffed in disbelief. 

“Prince Zuko, the Avatar is the only one who can stop the Fire Nation from winning this war. If you have an ounce of loyalty left, you'll tell me what you found.”

“Zhao, that is enough,” Iroh commanded sharply, eyes narrowed and back straight. “Did you request a meeting just to insult your Crown Prince?”

“Of course not, General,” Zhao’s mouth curled into a mocking smile. “My loyalty is to the Crown.”

Your loyalty is to yourself, Zuko thought bitterly. 

“That is a relief to hear, Commander Zhao,” Iroh replied in a tone that belied relief. He shuffled around his desk and picked up a teapot. “Would you care for some ginseng tea?”

“Oh, I am not here for tea, General Iroh. I merely wished to relay news for your ears only,” Zhao glanced at Zuko from the corner of his eye and cleared his throat. The Fire Prince stiffened and glanced at his uncle. 

Iroh pursed his lips and busied himself with making tea, saying seemingly offhandedly, “We have already established your loyalty to the Crown, Zhao. Don’t let Prince Zuko’s presence stop whatever you need to say.”

"Very well." Zhao glanced at the Fire Prince and his lips twisted as though he tasted something disgusting. “I will be taking a leave of absence next term, as I have been tasked to lead an... expedition to the North Pole.”

“An expedition? For whatever reason, Commander?” Iroh sat and poured himself a generous cup of ginseng, a picture of placidity, but Zuko could have sworn the temperature in the room cooled considerably.

“Why, to find the Avatar, of course. The Fire Lord trusts no one else,” Zhao smiled cruelly in Zuko’s direction, “Sorry you won't be there to watch me capture the Avatar, Prince Zuko.”

“You…” Jaw and fists clenched, Zuko strode until he was nose to nose with the military man, ready to roast him in his stupid armor and roast his stupid sideburns off—

Iroh cleared his throat and stood, hands still cradling his dainty porcelain teacup. Zuko remembered himself and stood back, still breathing heavily. His uncle smiled thinly at him before addressing Zhao, who had an all-too pleased look on his face.

“Very well. I will speak with Sifu Jeong Jeong and see if he would be willing to take the advanced classes as well.” The old man took a sip of his tea and glanced at Zhao over the rim of his cup. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” Zhao straightened up and exhaled disdainfully. “That will be all, General.”

As soon as the sound of Zhao’s metal boots clicked down the hallway, Zuko turned to Iroh angrily.

“Uncle! How could you!” 

Iroh merely raised his bushy brows and sat back down.

“How could I do what, nephew?”

“Capturing the Avatar is the only way I could regain my honor!” Zuko started to pace agitatedly, steam rising from his nostrils with each heavy breath. “How could you let Zhao leave!”

“You and I both know nothing could be done to change Ozai’s mind, nephew,” Iroh bowed his head over the steam wafting from his cup and inhaled deeply. “And how exactly were you planning to capture the Avatar while you are still in school, Prince Zuko?”

Zuko stopped halfway through a stomp. He gulped.

“I’ve been reading up on places where Air Nomad Avatars were trained…” he began, but he did not really know where he was going. 

“Am I right to assume you are thinking of dropping out of the Academy?” His uncle continued for him in a light, casual tone.

“Oh,” said Zuko. “Well, yeah. Once I have enough information to go by.”

“May I ask why you are abandoning your education?” asked Iroh gently.

“Uncle.” The Fire Prince sighed and slumped into the chair across the desk, running a hand down his face. “You know why. Going out there is the only way I can regain my honor.”

“Nephew, please do not put me in such a terrible position.” Iroh set his cup down delicately on the wooden table. “You know what happens to those who leave the Academy before completing the required tour of duty. Besides, honor is—”

“You don’t understand, Uncle!” Zuko shot to his feet with a snarl. “This is my birthright, and I will fight for it, unlike you!”

He immediately regretted the words as soon as they slipped out of his mouth. His uncle’s widened in surprise, then turned downcast. 

“Courage is an admirable quality, Prince Zuko, but we must choose carefully which things we fight for,” Iroh said levelly. “There is a fine line between bravery and recklessness.”

“I’m not being reckless,” Zuko muttered, trying to drown out his uncle’s previous advice to think things through. He headed for the door. “I’m going to the library.”

“If you want to take a walk later, Sifu Zei has told me of a blooming white jade bush in the Academy grounds—”

Zuko slammed the door shut behind him.

Chapter Text

The more Zuko read about Air Nomad culture, the more irritated he became.

Not only was he fed up with their teachings on peace, harmony, and pacifism, but the texts increasingly challenged whatever he was taught in the history lessons he took, both by the Fire Sages in the Palace and by Zhao and Zei in the Academy.

After all, how could such a peaceful group of people, so opposed to violence, stage a coup against the Fire Nation? How could nomads band together to form an army so formidable that they could threaten the peace kept by the Regime of Fire? Why would monks and nuns and acolytes even want to threaten peace?

The candlelight flickered as he rolled up a scroll in frustration, discarded it to the pile by his feet, and reached for a new one. Reading by candlelight was a challenge in itself— he found himself prone to getting headaches behind his left eye whenever he strained his vision too much— but add to that the innate difficulty of reading the flowing, lightly inked script of the Air Nomads… it was simply infuriating. Zuko wondered why Uncle even kept these scrolls in the Academy in the first place. Were they merely relics of a nation long gone? Not that he was complaining, as these were his only links to the lost Avatar, but—

He nearly dropped his scroll when the doors creaked open on the opposite side of the library.

Zuko quietly snuffed his lone candle and shifted into a defensive stance, fully expecting his sister and her sly smiles and sickly sweet mockery, but the light, slightly shuffling footsteps didn’t match Azula’s sure-footed gait. They didn’t match Uncle’s slow, placid steps, either, or Mai’s fast and deliberate ones. Whoever this midnight reader was, they probably weren’t here for him. Uncle, Azula, and Mai were the only ones who knew he worked in the library after hours. 

Zuko relaxed from his strained form, but he fell right back into a slight squat with his arms up when the glow of a lantern hovered near the Water Tribes section. He crept through the shadowy shelves for a glimpse of the intruder and caught sight of the splash of blue clothes and uneven braid. 

Of course it’s her. 

He watched as the girl— Katara, her name’s Katara— glanced around and fidgeted with her necklace, shoulders tense. She clearly didn’t sense him hovering a shelf away, because she heaved a sigh of relief and untucked a well-worn scroll from inside her tunic, smiling at it as though it were an old friend she was saying goodbye to. She shuffled some scrolls around and slid it into the rows of Water Tribe literature before walking away. 

Yes, the spirits did have a habit of putting him in complicated situations. He could have laughed at their twisted sense of humor if the shame and anger inside him hadn’t bubbled up so fiercely. 

He scowled at the darkness, deciding that waiting for her to leave would be the better option— but then her footsteps paused by the end of the aisle and started towards the Air Nomad section. 

Zuko’s eyes widened. She’d see the piles of scrolls he collected— she’d know he was reading up on Air Nomad culture. She’d stick her nose in his business like she did with his lightning practice. She’d know he was hunting the Avatar— and like the rest of her backward-thinking tribe, she probably believed the legends that the Avatar was the last hope of humanity. She wouldn’t care why he was doing what he was doing. She’d just hate him even more. 

Didn’t he want her to hate him, though? Isn’t that why he revealed his identity to her in the first place?

I just wanted to know if she was really my friend, the treacherous voice in his head said, and he didn’t have time to counter it because she was moving closer and Zuko knew he had to go on the offensive if he didn’t want her to find out was he was doing in the library. 

He stepped out of the shadows and spoke as quietly as he could.

“What are you doing here?”

Katara shrieked, and Zuko hurriedly clamped a hand over her mouth before she woke up the entire Academy. 

She pushed him away forcefully and uncorked her water skin, her whip ready in one fluid motion. Zuko raised his hands to his shoulders, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. It didn’t work, of course.

“What are you doing here?” she spat, solidifying her whip into an ice spear with a flick of her wrist and jabbing his chest, keeping the Fire Prince an arm’s length away. 

Katara half-expected him to snarl, or melt the spear, or blast fire at her and burn her along with all the remaining Water Tribe literature, just like how his nation burned all the Air Nomads, but he didn’t. He just lowered his hands and his gaze, and a small voice in Katara’s head scolded her for being so distrusting of Lee, the boy she’d trained with, the boy who’d been so afraid of scarring her and Haru, the boy she’d defended to her brother and Suki. 

Anger, fueled by shame and confusion, crawled its way to Katara’s throat and she struggled to blink away the tears. No, this wasn’t her Lee, this was the Prince of the Fire Nation, who had burned her hair and attacked his own sister and broke Sokka’s arm. 

“Well?” She prompted, spear at the ready. “Are you here to hand me off to the headmaster? Or will you just burn my hair again as a warning?”

The hands hanging limply at his sides clenched into fists and his face contorted into a scowl, the harsh lines of his scar illuminated in the dim moonlight filtering through the windows. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” replied Zuko in a measured voice, “And I haven’t told anyone about… you know.”

Katara glanced around warily, reforming her spear into a water whip as though the headmaster— or other sifus— would suddenly jump out from the shadows. But the library was empty, except for her and the Fire Prince.

“Why are you here, then?” she asked— then the voice in her head that sounded remarkably like her brother’s chided her for being so trusting of a firebender’s words. 

She winced and split her whip in two. Droplets of water splattered onto the stone floor as her hands shook. 

The Fire Prince coughed and glanced away, and she blinked at the familiar action; in that moment, he was Lee— her Lee— shuffling his feet awkwardly, almost guiltily, and for a second, Katara thought he would bow in that stiff Fire Nation way of his and mumble an apology.

Instead of an apology, however, he muttered, “I’m doing homework,” in the most unconvincing way possible that Katara once again questioned herself for not knowing he was the Fire Prince in the first place. This boy was very clearly a bad liar. 

She scoffed derisively.

“Oh, please, quit lying. I think we’ve established that I know you, Lee.” 

Even as she said the words, a lance of pain shot through her at the memory of the last time they met by the river, at how desperate she was to prove to him that they were friends, at how firmly she believed that not all firebenders were frightening… Why would she even bring up their time together?

Maybe I judged him too quickly. Maybe he was really trying to be in control of his anger. Maybe he really thought we were friends and maybe he wasn’t just pretending to be nice. Maybe he really didn’t want to hurt us and maybe he wasn’t just spying on us or using us as target practice. Maybe he’s still Lee—

But when he turned back to her, he was the scowling Prince once more.

“It’s none of your business, peasant,” he spat the last word like a curse, and he cut her off harshly before she could retort, “Stop sticking your nose in other people’s business. I know how hard it must be for you.”

“You were so much nicer with your mask on.” Katara glared at him. “Do you need a mask to stop being such a jerk?”

“Maybe I was just pretending,” Zuko deadpanned, eyes fixed on a nearby shelf, looking at anything else but her. “Maybe I was just using you and Haru to get better at fighting.”

“You know what? Ugh!” Katara stomped her foot and shot a jet of what limited water she had at the boy. He didn’t even flinch, which angered her even more. “You’re just a spoiled, selfish jerk who broke my brother’s arm and burned my hair and I can’t believe I even considered you my friend!”

Zuko finally snapped and looked at her, his face contorted in anger. 

“Well, I didn’t ask to be your friend! I just wanted to train at night, alone, and you forced me to join you and Haru!”

His fists clenched at his sides, smothering the flames that had erupted from his hands at his outburst. He pinched the bridge of his nose, fully intending to just pack up his stuff and leave this obvious nightmare. 

“You hate me, anyway,” muttered Zuko as he turned away, “So why does it matter?”

“I don’t hate you.” 

He whirled around in surprise. Katara blinked— her own words seemed to have shocked her, too.

“I don’t hate you,” she repeated levelly, as though to make the statement sink in. “But I don’t trust you, either.”

Rage, white-hot and irrational, clawed its way to Zuko’s mouth in a snarl of flames. 

“Fine! See if I care! I don’t need you to trust me, anyway!” He yelled, already beyond caring if the whole Academy woke up. “I just need you to leave me alone!”

Katara’s jaw dropped in indignation and she pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

“You’re the one who crept up on me like some stupid tiger shark!”

“Well, you’re the one who keeps turning up wherever I go!”

“I don’t mean to! I was just returning my waterbending scroll!” She waved a hand in the direction of the shelves agitatedly. “And I didn’t turn up on the training grounds when we first met, I was there first and you started shooting fireballs like a maniac!”

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively and he clenched his jaw, smoke curling from his nostrils. 

“Just go, Katara.”

Her irritation stuttered at his use of her name— the only other time she heard him say it was when she was on her knees and heaving by the riverbank, when he’d tried to comfort her and failed, when she’d left him in the dark after he’d finally revealed who he was. 

Her anger flared again— whether it was directed at herself or at this confusing firebender, she didn’t know. She took a step back, seething. 

“Fine. Wouldn’t want to stick my nose in your royal business, Your Highness.” She forced as much venom as she could into her words. “Go back to planning world domination or whatever it is you firebenders do. See if I care.”

She turned on her heel and stomped out of the library, her footsteps echoing in the empty space, and Zuko glared at the spot where she stood until he heard the door slam shut, leaving him alone in the darkness once more. 

“Why can’t I get this right?” 

Katara glanced at Yue with tired eyes. Any other day, she would have been amused at the image of the Northern Water Tribe Princess struggling with a water whip, her pretty little face scrunched up in concentration as she followed the forms, posture a little too straight and a little too stiff for someone usually so graceful. 

Any other day, Katara would have marveled at how far she’d come— just a few months ago, she was the one struggling with the water whip— but today, memories of her midnight trainings just left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

“Just think of it as an extension of your arm, Yue,” she explained for what seemed like the fourth time since they started training at sunrise. “You don’t have to follow the forms exactly. Just feel it flow through you.”

She, Yue, and Gumi were huddled off to the side of the training grounds as Sifu Pakku taught more advanced techniques to the male waterbenders. Katara itched to join them, but Pakku had sneered and said snidely that until her companions could master the basic katas, they couldn’t progress to the next ones. 

“I think I’ve got it!” squealed Gumi, her thin whip slashing through the air without disintegrating. Katara smiled thinly. 

“That’s great, Gumi,” she said, wincing as her words came out a tad less enthusiastic than she meant them to be. 

For that entire morning, she tried so hard not to let her sleep deprivation get the best of her— after all, she’d spent almost a year staying up late and waking up early. She shouldn’t let one particularly draining shouting match with a certain firebender affect her disposition. 

She felt her irritation at the infuriating jerk spike again, but she was pulled from her thoughts when Yue groaned and discarded her water gracelessly onto the ground. 

“I don’t think I’m cut out to be a warrior,” sighed the princess, covering her face with her hands. 

“It’s okay not to get it the first time, Yue,” Katara said patiently, her irritation dissipating at the princess’s despondence. “I struggled with the water whip for quite a time, too.”

Yue peered at her through slender fingers, eyes disbelieving. 

“How did you learn combative bending, Katara?”  she asked, a rare tone of impatience seeping into her voice. “You told Sifu Pakku you taught yourself, but with the way you fought him, anyone watching would have thought you were already trained in the waterbending arts since you were a toddler.”

“Yeah, you told us your father taught you how to handle a spear,” Gumi added, flicking her flimsy whip back and forth, “Did combative bending come easy for you because girls in the Southern Water Tribe were taught to fight?”

Katara wanted to laugh at their comments; if only they’d seen how soaked Suki and Sokka and Haru were when she first started training, and if only they knew exactly how erratic her bending was when she fought Pakku…

“I just trained hard almost everyday, that’s all,” she settled on saying, because that was essentially what she did for almost a year. “I did get frustrated a lot of times, but… I just really wanted to learn, you know?”

“I truly want to learn, too,” sighed Yue, summoning another tendril of water from the stream behind her, “But I never expected this to be so… tiring. ”

Gumi nodded earnestly. “I get what you mean, Princess Yue. Healing takes a lot out of you, but it was more of chi depletion than this physical strain, you know? I hadn’t sweat this much when I was learning how to heal!”

“Maybe that’s why the men fare better at combative waterbending,” the Northern Water Tribe Princess muttered a little bitterly as she moved through her stances, droplets of water wavering between her fingers. “They have better endurance— maybe there’s a valid reason that they don’t teach combative waterbending to girls.”

“Oh, that’s a load of tiger seal dung and you know it,” Katara snapped.

Gumi gasped in surprise and Yue covered her mouth with her free hand— Katara blanched internally, suddenly remembering their sister tribe’s low opinion of her people. She didn’t need to alienate what few Northerners she had on her side.

But Tui take her, she had already felt so ruffled the moment she gruffly stepped out of bed— the only thing that had prompted her to rise at dawn was the prospect of learning new waterbending moves, and here she was, stuck with repeating an elementary movement over and over to no effect. And now, they were flip-flopping on their decisions to be warriors? Oh, no. Not on Katara’s watch. 

“Those boys would suck just as much as we do if we told them to try their hand at healing,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “They’re not better than we are, we’re just untrained because of misguided tradition and the stupid rules that Sifu Pakku imposed.”

“I… suppose you’re right, Katara,” Yue looked at her strangely before she took a deep breath and readied her stance once more. She paused, brow furrowed, water hovering between her open palms. “You said to think of the whip as an extension of my arm… How did you learn to think of it that way?”

Katara bit her lip. She couldn’t exactly tell the Water Tribe girls about her midnight trainings— she had barely skirted past the topic a couple of minutes ago, and even though they’d already stopped practicing, she didn’t want to cause undue trouble to her friends. And she wasn’t Suki— she very well couldn’t attack another student, let alone a princess, just to goad her into learning a move. 

“Oh!” Gumi bounded up between them, droplets of water trailing in her wake. “Try to grab onto something! When Katara taught us the moves, I thought about how useful the  water whip would be if I could use it to grab something far away, you know?”

“That’s a great idea, Gumi!” Katara trilled, relieved to have an alternative presented to her on a silver platter. She squinted around the vicinity and her eyes alighted on a twig. “Here, Yue, try to grab this from me.” 

By the time Yue managed to haphazardly twist her water whip around the sodden twig, Pakku was already concluding his lessons with the boys and Katara’s stomach was rumbling. Loathe as she was to pull a Sokka and fantasize about breakfast, it was all she could do as Yue tried and tried to form a whip and Gumi worked on the next set of techniques.

The boys trooped up the steps to the Academy, barely even giving them a passing glance, and Pakku just smirked at them and raised his brows before slipping away. 

Gumi and Yue exchanged a look— it seemed the Northerners expected more encouragement from the sifu. Katara’s heart went out to them, despite her slight resentment at their progress; they probably weren’t used to such cold treatment. Part of her still seethed at how the other girls had treated her the same way on her first day in the Academy— as though she could be easily brushed off just because her bending water couldn’t glow to a healer’s blue— but Yue and Gumi were her friends, and they had worked really hard, even though Katara spent most of their lesson thinking they moved like snail sloths. Yue was still panting, her normally neat hairdo falling from its intricate bun, and Gumi had streaks of dirt on her face, having forgotten how muddy the stream was when she attempted to cool off. They definitely deserved more than the mocking smirks that Pakku passed off as encouragement. 

“Well, you guys learned the water whip before breakfast,” she threw an arm each over the two disgruntled girls, leading them back up to the Academy. “I bet Sifu Pakku didn’t expect you guys to move up that fast.”

Gumi tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and scrunched up her face. “I finally understand now why Akkad was always complaining about Pakku. I thought he was just lazy, but then we worked so hard and Pakku didn’t even acknowledge it.”

“It might get worse before we truly prove to him that we’re worth his time,” sighed the princess. 

“Term’s ending in a little bit over a month, though. He has to teach us more advanced moves before we leave for summer break.” Katara said thoughtfully, tapping a finger to her chin. “Maybe we can speed things up for you.”

Yue turned her wide blue eyes on her. “How do you propose we do that, Katara?”

She cocked her head to the courtyards. “I learned a lot just by observing benders’ battles and trying to copy the moves I saw. Since you already know how to handle a water whip, it’ll come easy— every other waterbending technique has the same principle behind it, like the octopus form.” 

“It will still be difficult, though.” Yue didn’t look too enthused. “There’s such a huge difference between watching someone execute a move and knowing how it’s done.”

“We could practice together during our free period everyday,” Gumi grinned at the princess, nudging her side playfully. “Oh! And maybe you can join the benders’ battle tomorrow, Katara! That way, we can learn the stuff you’re already familiar with!”

“That’s… an idea,” said Katara hesitantly. While she still wasn’t confident enough in her abilities to spar with other benders in front of the whole Academy, she couldn’t discount the fact that it would help further her friends’ skills. Plus, hadn’t she battled with an actual waterbending master? And didn’t she have enough experience dealing with the other elements’ combative styles? 

“Alright!” Gumi pumped a fist in the air, her disheveled braid bouncing along with her. “Now, let’s go get breakfast! I’m starving!”

“You and me both,” muttered Katara absently, but all the previous rumblings of her stomach had already been replaced by butterflies. Was she really going to join the benders’ battle? 

The trio arrived at the Water Tribes’ table and Katara gently separated herself from the two girls, making her way to where Suki and Sokka were sitting. The Kyoshi warrior was spooning jook glumly into her bowl and looked a tad irritated as the Water Tribe warrior gabbed on about one thing or another while shoveling Earth Kingdom egg custards into his mouth. 

Katara groaned and plopped down beside Suki, resting her head despondently on her friend’s shoulder. She envied their fresh faces. Why don’t non-benders have to train at sunrise?

“Good morning to you, too, Katara,” Suki, who looked far too happy to be given a distraction from Sokka’s blabbering, patted Katara’s cheek sympathetically with her free hand. “What’s up with you?”

Sokka paused in his story long enough to look over his sister. “Yeah, why do you look like a boarcupine stuck needles up your butt?” 

Katara blew out her cheeks and dragged a bowl of seaweed noodles towards her. 

“Yue and Gumi want me to join the benders’ battle tomorrow so they could learn new techniques because stupid Sifu Pakku won’t teach us anything until they’ve caught up with the basic forms,” she explained sullenly, slurping the broth. 

Suki exchanged a look with Sokka. 

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” she asked, reaching over Katara to grab a handful of berries. “You’ve worked really hard on your bending, and you held your own against Pakku, so you really have nothing to worry about, right?”

“That’s the thing!” Katara looked up from her bowl and flailed her arms around in panic. “I was just so angry when I fought Pakku that it fueled my bending, but I still would’ve lost if Gumi hadn’t intervened, and the only other people I’ve trained with are you and Sokka and Haru and— and— you know!”

She took a deep, shuddering breath, shaking her head at the memories of sparring with Lee. She chose to focus on the matter at hand. “What if I lose?”

“Sis, it’s just a spar,” her brother said, rolling his eyes and waving one hand dismissively. “You don’t have to win every battle. I mean, I’ve gotten my hide handed to me more times than I can count, and I still wanna spar so I can show off that I got better, y’know?”

Suki rolled her aqua eyes at the boy and threw a comforting arm around Katara.

“Hey, you don’t have to be the best bender on the arena immediately just ‘cause you fought Pakku,” she said soothingly. “Just think of the benders’ battle as the— I dunno, sort of the advanced part of our training sessions.”

“Except it’s in broad daylight and everyone’s watching,” Sokka helpfully pointed out through a mouthful of custard. His sister glared at him over the rim of her bowl.

“All I’m saying, Katara,” Suki pointedly continued as Sokka grimaced sheepishly, “is that benders’ battles are not that different from the spars we did— and you don’t need to worry about Yue and Gumi learning from you yet, you know. I noticed before that the Water Tribe girls don’t watch benders’ battles a lot. This could be their way of, I dunno—” Suki motioned vaguely with her hands— “dipping their feet in boiling water, so to speak.”

Both Water Tribe siblings looked at her with unimpressed expressions, and she defensively crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I don’t know your tribe’s sayings! You know what I mean!”

Sokka poorly tried to disguise his chuckle with a cough, earning him a glare from Suki. 

Katara, meanwhile, stirred her soup with her bending and mulled over the Kyoshi warrior’s words. 

“You know what, you guys? I think I will join,” she said resolutely, straightening her back. And with her brother and best friend smiling at her proudly like that, she knew she had nothing to worry about.

“She’s gonna get crushed by a boulder until she’s flat like seal jerky,” Akkad said to his sister, loud enough for Sokka, who stood a couple of paces away, to hear. 

He tried to ignore his former friend and instead kept an eye on Katara, who was lining up for the benders’ battle on the opposite end of the Eastern Courtyard. It looked like she was having words with Sifu Pakku again, but the old coot didn’t seem that perturbed as he answered her with his usual displeased frown on his face. Sokka watched as his sister marched past Pakku, her head held high, and took her place behind hulking earthbenders and older waterbenders.

It was a particularly humid day, the monsoon season giving way to fringes of summer, and if anyone asked Sokka why he was sweating so profusely, he’d blame it on the Fire Nation weather and not on the worry gnawing at his insides. 

She looks so small out there, he thought. Oh no, what if she does get flattened like seal jerky? I can’t bring home seal jerky-Katara to Dad!

“I can’t believe they’d allow her to fight. It’s just not proper,” Baya agreed, fanning herself with her hand. “Maybe that’s why there are so few Southerners— they allow everyone to engage in such brutish behavior.”

Sokka couldn’t help it anymore. 

“No, it’s because we don’t back down from tough stuff and we don’t hide when we can fight!” He all but shouted at the siblings, hand reaching for his boomerang. “Unlike you selfish Northerners who only care about yourselves!”

In the corner of his eye, he saw Yue flinch at his words. He winced, remembering how getting engaged to some warrior she didn’t like was probably the furthest thing from being a selfish Northerner, but the haughty look on Akkad’s face pulled him back to the more pressing issue. 

“You're just a simple rube from the Southern Tribe. What would you know of the complexities of our life?” Akkad said, smirking. “No offense.”

Sokka sputtered and pointed a finger at him, ready to launch himself at the other boy. “Well, you’re just a stupid, sexist jerk! Yes offense!”

A hand grabbed the scruff of his tunic, pulling him back. Sokka flailed against the hold until he heard Suki’s voice hiss behind him, “Let it go, Sokka. Katara’s about to fight.”

Sokka swallowed his anger and mimed an “I’m not done with you” gesture at Akkad, who threw his head back in challenge, ice blue eyes glinting. 

“Oh no,” breathed Suki, her hand on his tunic  suddenly going slack. 

“What? What?” Sokka squawked frantically, climbing atop a nearby bench to get a better view of Katara. 

His heart plummeted to his feet when he saw her opponent. 

Tui and La, can’t you give us a break from that Jerkbender?!

Agni, can’t you give me a break from her?

Katara stood across him on the arena, equidistant from the waterbending sifu who stood stiffly between them with one arm aloft. For a split second, her big blue eyes held a mixture of surprise, fear, and worry, but before Zuko could fathom anything else, she slid into a defensive position, determination now the only expression on her face, and the Water Tribe sifu brought down his hand.

Zuko immediately went on the offensive, kicking a blast of fire at her and following through with two flaming punches, if only to drown out the voice in his head telling him to call the spar off, to forfeit before he could do too much damage—

She was already countering, curtains of water from the fountain deflecting each of his attacks— he readied a fireball in his hands, not sure where to aim so as not to injure her— “I don’t hate you,” her voice whispered in his mind— but he found himself hurtling through the air as she shot a powerful jet of water to his chest.

He quickly righted himself before he could fall to the ground completely— you’re such a weakling, Zuzu; honestly, any other warrior wouldn’t have hesitated— and with a snarl he swept an arc of flames towards her.

Whatever words she’d said before vanished into thin air. He shouldn’t have tried to protect her. He shouldn’t have let their past interactions distract him. He shouldn’t have hesitated. 

He couldn’t afford to look weak. 

He punched the ground and sent a wave of fire at her feet, knowing it would force her to back away from her water source, but she lunged forward and doused his flames with a surging wave of her own, steam billowing between them—

Oh, he knew this move— she would use the steam as cover. Zuko almost laughed. It had worked in the darkness of the woods when they trained, and he even agreed it was worth pursuing as a defensive technique, but in broad daylight and without the canopy of trees, her tactic would hardly—

As if reading his mind, Katara narrowed her eyes and suddenly reformed the steam into thick, icy ribbons, twining them around his feet and freezing him in place. Zuko stared wide-eyed at the tendrils of water making their way up his legs, before he remembered himself and melted the ice in one explosive motion. 

He thrust his arms in front of his chest, deflecting her barrage of ice discs with a shield of fire. She emptied half the fountain’s contents and surfed around him— he sent a jet of flames at her oncoming wave, cutting off her approach and sending her tumbling to the ground.

She skidded backwards a few feet in the dirt, and when she got up and shot him a mutinous glare, Zuko immediately took a step backwards, fists coming up automatically in defense, but Sifu Pakku came between them and declared him the winner of the match.

“You still have much to learn, little girl,” he heard the sifu tell Katara. 

Zuko forced himself to walk away from the grounds and not look back.

“Maybe that last move is too advanced for you. Why don’t you try an easier one?” Pakku commented mockingly, but Katara barely heard him over the pounding in her ears. 

She glared at the Fire Prince’s retreating back, seething. Their spar was so infuriating. How dare he go easy on her like that? As if she couldn’t protect herself from him. As if she hadn’t bested him more times than she could count. As if he thought she wouldn’t see him hesitate with that fireball between his palms. 

As if he was still Lee and not the Fire Lord’s son. 

But then he just snapped and it shouldn’t have been so confusing because hadn’t she wished he’d show his true colors instead of acting like Lee? 

It hurt that he acted like the ruthless firebender she wanted him to be. 

It hurt even more that, halfway through their battle, she realized he could read her as easily as she read him. As if fighting harder was his way of making reparations for trying to protect her. As if he also missed their midnight spars. As if he knew she would sneak up on him using the steam that resulted in their elements colliding. 

As if after the battle he’d do what he usually did and ask her if he burnt her and tell her she did a good job with her wave and maybe next time she could try zigzagging away from an attack or anchoring her ankles with ice so she wouldn’t easily fall off. 

“She truly is Kanna’s granddaughter, isn’t she?”

Katara turned in surprise to find Sifu Yugoda standing beside Pakku, who looked more annoyed than usual. 

“Wait, how do you know my Gran-Gran’s name?” she blurted out. 

“You’re her spitting image! I don’t know why I didn’t realize sooner,” Yugoda explained with a smile. “It was a good thing that Pakku recognized her in you— she was a dear friend of mine before she left the North. I always wanted to know what happened to her.”

Katara rounded on Pakku with wide eyes. “You knew my grandmother, too?”

“What an astute deduction. Yes, child, of course I knew her,” he said, mouth curling as though he tasted something bitter. 

“She never told me she lived in the North!” Katara glanced between the two sifus. “Why did she leave?”

“Your grandmother was a very outspoken young woman,” Yugoda said with a twinkle in her eyes. “Had she been given the same opportunities as you, she wouldn’t have left. But I think Pakku here could explain it better, no?”

The old master straightened up with a displeased frown that wrinkled his creased skin even more. 

“I do not have time to twiddle my thumbs and cluck away like pig hens,” he said dismissively. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and gave Katara a once-over. “Tomorrow we will be learning the iceberg spike. Tell the princess and her friend.”

With that, he left, robes billowing behind him. Katara stared dumbfounded at his wake. 

“Did he get kicked in the head too many times by an armadillo goat? Why does he suddenly want to teach me and Yue and Gumi?” She threw her hands in the air in disbelief. “What was that about?” 

Yugoda smiled, the expression on her face too mischievous for someone so matronly. 

“That, Katara, is proof that time and again, we need to be reminded of the past in order to clearly see the future.”

“What does that mean?” Katara asked, but Sifu Yugoda was already walking away to heal an earthbender with a sprained ankle, leaving Katara to wonder if vagueness came with old age or if elders just did it to purposely annoy the youth. 

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe I let him dump gravel all over me,” Chinua muttered, trying to dislodge bits of rock that made it into his clothes. Haru patted his shoulder sympathetically, even though he was fighting back a smile. The other earthbender clearly wasn’t the best at reading other people’s tactics. Sifu Fong had obviously been baiting him to stand as an example for the rockalanche. 

"Hey, Chinua, can we borrow your messenger hawk?" Shui asked, approaching him and Haru, his brother Qiao trailing languidly behind him.

"No, she's off delivering a letter," said Chinua, turning one way and another to get rid of a particularly stubborn bit of gravel in his tunic. "Why?"

"Because Shui wants to invite him to the ball," said Qiao sarcastically.

"Because we want to send a letter, stupid," said Shui.

"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" said Chinua.

"Butt out, Chinua, or I'll stick some rocks up there, too," said Qiao, grinning. "So…you lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," said Haru.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, dude, or all the good ones will be gone," said Qiao.

"Who're you going with, then?" said Chinua.

"Ling," Qiao said promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.

"What?" Chinua cried, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," Qiao nodded. He turned his head and called across the Eastern Courtyard, "Oi! Ling!"

Ling, who had been chatting with Jia and Suki in the shade, looked over at him.

"What?" she called back.

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Ling gave Qiao an appraising sort of look.

"All right, then," she said, and she turned back to the other Kyoshi warriors and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.

"There you go," Qiao said to Haru and Chinua with a grin. "Piece of cake."

Shui stretched, yawning, and said, "We'd better use a school hawk then, Qiao, come on…"

They left. Chinua stopped feeling his tunic for stray rocks and looked across the upturned earthbending training grounds at Haru.

"We should get a move on, you know… ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of hogmonkeys."

Haru gulped. The Academy had Fire Days Ball fever, with decorations being strung up all over the school. Even Headmaster Iroh seemed to have thrown himself into the festive atmosphere— he was often seen humming to himself cheerfully as he assisted in stringing up red and gold streamers. The sifus themselves seem to be in a pretty good mood, too, but Haru figured it might be because term was ending right after the ball.

There was only one person Haru wanted to ask to the ball, but he hadn’t spent much time with her recently. He followed Chinua into the Great Hall, his gut churning. 

“Please, please tell me you two are going to the ball!”

Ty Lee clasped her hands together and beamed at her friends with wide, hopeful gray eyes. Azula just rolled her eyes, still leaning casually on Mai’s bedpost, and Mai didn’t even look up from the knife she was polishing. 

Ty Lee huffed petulantly. 

“Honestly, you guys! It’ll be fun, I promise!” She pouted at her friends. “Your auras are gonna stay all twisted and murky if you don’t let loose once in a while, y’know!”

“Well, you’d know loose, wouldn’t you,” Azula grinned maliciously, but Ty Lee chose to ignore her barb and continued to look at both of them expectantly. 

Mai sighed, tilting her weapon in the light. “I hate parties.”

The acrobat puffed her cheeks out. “Aw, c’mon! I heard Madam Kairi just had a new shipment of clothes and if we don’t get to her store on Ember Island as soon as possible, we won’t have anything to wear for the ball!”

Azula perked up at that, though Ty Lee couldn’t figure out why new clothes would interest the Fire Princess, since she usually wore her pointy armor or shapeless tunics and pants. 

Oh well, maybe she finally got tired of wearing boy clothes. Good for her. 

“Fine, we’ll go to Ember Island,” Azula said with feigned boredom, but her aura was starting to spark alive.

Beside her, Mai looked up with as much surprise as Mai could muster. 

“Seriously?” 

Azula lazily turned to Mai with a smirk on her painted lips. 

“Do you still want to know how people would treat you if they didn’t know who you were?”

Ty Lee glanced between her two best friends, feeling slightly lost and a little left out. Mai’s face bore no expression as usual, but there was a glint in her sharp owl cat eyes. 

“Then it’s settled.” Azula said firmly, as though they just concluded a war meeting and not a decision to go shopping. “We’ll take the first ferry out Saturday morning.”

“Oh, but Madam Kairi’s shop isn’t open until late morning,” Ty Lee said, slightly disappointed at losing the opportunity to sleep in. Azula often forgot that only firebenders loved to rise at dawn. 

“Don’t you worry, Ty Lee,” Azula said with a smile that meant she already had a plan in mind. “There are a few places I’d like to visit first.”

“Happy birthday, Katara!”

Katara looked up from her breakfast just in time to catch the bundle Suki threw at her. Just behind the Kyoshi warrior were Yue and Gumi, who were both smiling conspiratorially. 

“It’s not my birthday,” she replied, confused, examining the light package wrapped in crinkly paper and twine. 

“Yes,” Yue sat down primly beside her in quiet excitement. “But your brother said your birthday is the first week of summer, and since we won’t be there to celebrate with you…” 

“Open it!” Gumi cried out, her giddiness not as contained as the princess’s. Suki plopped herself down on Katara’s other side and grinned hugely. 

“C’mon, Katara, we all pitched in,” the Kyoshi warrior plucked at the strings of their gift. “And we stopped Sokka from carving you some spirits-forsaken gift.”

To Katara’s infinite surprise, Yue giggled beside her. 

“He really lacks artistic abilities, doesn’t he?” The princess bit back a smile. “Although he is really sweet.”

A shadow passed over Suki’s face before she rounded on Katara with a little too much enthusiasm. 

“Just open the gift, Katara!” She nudged her playfully in the ribs. “That way we’d know whether to return it or not.”

“Return it? Why would I make you return it?”

“Oh, in case it doesn’t fit,” Gumi said breezily behind Yue. Katara’s brows furrowed. 

“Doesn’t fit?” 

“Oh, for the love of Kyoshi’s big feet—” Suki reached across Katara exasperatedly and untied the twine. The waterbender giggled at her friend’s impatience and unwrapped the bundle. 

Her jaw dropped. 

It was a dress— less like the ones she wore during tribal ceremonies in the South and more like the gowns Yue wore, with flowing sleeves and beads of wood and a coral clasp. Katara unfolded the blood red fabric— it was cool to the touch, like water, and she couldn’t help but run her fingers over it, mesmerized at its smooth texture and the way it caught light. Her tunics and parka were made of cotton and fur and hide, and never shone the way this dress did. She’d never had something so… opulent, before. 

“Well? Do you love it, or do you love it?” Gumi prompted excitedly. 

“I love it!” Katara squealed and jumped up, tackling them all into a hug. “You guys! I can’t believe this!”

“It’s for the Fire Days Ball,” Yue explained when Katara unfurled the entire length of the gown to get a better look. “Red and gold supposedly bring luck and prosperity.”

“It’s so pretty,” Katara gushed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know how I’ll make it up to all of you.”

“You’ve already done so much for us, Katara,” said Yue earnestly. “You’re the reason Sifu Pakku even agreed to train us in the first place.”

“Yeah, and we can’t let you go to the ball in your usual clothes,” Suki pointed out with a  teasing grin. “I mean, you would’ve been the only one there wearing blue. It would’ve been so embarrassing. We wouldn’t want to be seen with you afterwards.”

Katara rolled her eyes and lightly swatted the Kyoshi warrior’s arm. Gumi settled herself down beside Suki.

“Has Jet asked you to be his date yet?” she asked with a twinkle in her blue eyes. Katara swallowed and turned her attention to her new dress, hoping her disappointment wouldn’t quite show. 

“Oh, he hasn’t asked me yet. But we haven’t really talked that much since I started training with Pakku— everything’s been so hectic recently, I only ever see him during History, and I think he was busy talking with new members of the Freedom Fighters—”

Suki’s laugh cut her rambling short. “Oh, Katara, don’t worry. He’s gonna ask you. If he doesn’t, someone else definitely will. Believe me.”

Katara shook her head, clutching her new dress to her chest. “Oh, but it doesn’t matter! I know I’ll have fun, because you guys are gonna be there!”

“Uh huh, I don’t think you’re gonna want us there,” Gumi said, looking over at the opposite side of the Great Hall. 

Suki glanced up as well and stood up, acting a little too casual as she addressed the other waterbenders. “Yeah, we better get going, don’t we? We have to do that thing, right?”

“Here, Katara, I’ll take this up to the common room for you.” Yue gently took the dress from Katara, who looked around suspiciously. Her eyes alighted on Jet and Longshot and the two new Freedom Fighters making their way to the Water Tribes’ table and suddenly everything made sense. 

“Good luck!” trilled Gumi, and Katara almost laughed in gleeful nervousness, because really, who needed luck for this?

Zuko almost choked on his dumplings when Mai sat down beside him after combat training. 

It wasn’t that he was still mad at her— honestly, he kind of missed her sometimes, but he just assumed that after all their failed talks, that was the end of their relationship. Talking never did any of them any good, after all. But she was here, neatly ladling stew into her bowl and acting as though everything was okay between them again. 

Maybe it was. Zuko didn’t really know, and he felt it would be too awkward if he asked.  

“Why did you sit down?”

Apparently, his mouth didn’t get the message to not be awkward. His palm itched to slap his forehead. 

Mai looked at him flatly. 

“Because I wanted to eat lunch, Zuko.”

“N-no, I mean—” He fiddled awkwardly with his chopsticks before giving up with a sigh. “Never mind.”

There was a short pause as he coughed lightly and looked at anything else but the girl beside him. 

“Ty Lee’s forcing me and Azula to go to the ball,” Mai said by way of explanation. “I figured if I had to suffer through the night, I might as well drag you with me.”

Zuko blinked. What was she trying to say? Did they really drift apart so much in the past few months that he didn’t understand what she wanted from him anymore?

“You… wanna suffer… at the ball... together?”

“I promise it won’t be fun.” A small, barely-there smile appeared on Mai’s face before she shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s a party, after all.”

That forced a chuckle out of him. Maybe they really were okay now. Maybe she missed him as much as he missed her. Maybe he didn’t screw things up too much this time.

“I love it when we don’t have fun at parties.”

"Haru— we’ve just got to grit our teeth and do it, man," said Sokka one morning as he and the Water Tribe boy ate breakfast at the Earth Kingdom table. It seemed that for all his bluster about "knowing stuff about the ladies," Sokka hadn’t asked anyone yet, either. He swallowed a mouthful of jook with a determined look in his blue eyes. "When we eat dinner tonight, we’ll both have partners— agreed?"

"Uh..." Haru glanced at the archway leading to the Western Courtyard, as though Katara would magically arrive from training. "Okay."

Sokka nodded grimly at him with a look he’d only seen on the generally carefree boy’s face when he was preparing for combat practice.

Haru mirrored his expression and steeled his resolve.

But every time he glimpsed Katara that day— after her waterbending lessons, and then lunchtime, and once on the way to History— she was surrounded by friends. Didn't she ever go anywhere alone? If he didn't do it soon, she was bound to have been asked by somebody else. Haru wasn’t blind— he saw the way Jet looked at her, like some prize to be won, and although they ran in different circles, he knew the other Earth Kingdom boy well enough to know of his track record.

He couldn’t let that happen to Katara.

He found it hard to concentrate on Zei’s History test— meaning that he received less than average marks. He didn't care, though; he was too busy screwing up his courage for what he was about to do, and it wasn’t as if anyone actually failed in the Academy (the worst that could happen was you get held back a year because of poor standing). When Sifu Zei sent them off, he grabbed his bag, and hurried to Katara’s desk.

He'd just have to ask her for a private word, that was all... he hurriedly walked against the flow of students exiting the classroom looking for her, and (rather sooner than he expected) he found her, chatting with other Water Tribe girls as they made their way to the Great Hall.

"Uh— Katara?"

She glanced at him and smiled brightly, and Haru’s heartbeats thundered in his ears.

"Hey, Haru! What’s going on?"

"Could I, uh, talk to you for a second?"

Giggling should be made illegal, Haru thought, as the girls around Katara started doing it. She didn't, though. She said, "Okay," and followed him out of earshot of their other classmates.

Haru turned to look at her and his stomach gave a weird lurch as though he had missed a step going downstairs.

"Uh," he said.

He couldn't ask her. He couldn't. But he had to. Katara stood there looking puzzled, watching him. The words came out before Haru had quite got his tongue around them.

"Wangoballwime?"

"What?" said Katara.

"Do you— do you want to go to the ball with me?" said Haru. Why did he have to go red now? Why?

"Oh!" said Katara, and she blushed scarlet, too. "Oh Haru, I'm really sorry," and she truly looked it. "I've already said I'll go with someone else."

"Oh," said Haru.

It was odd; a moment before, his insides had been writhing like viper rats, but suddenly he didn't seem to have any insides at all.

"Oh okay," he said, "No problem."

"I'm really sorry," she said again.

"That's okay," said Haru.

They stood there awkwardly looking at each other, and then Katara said, "Well—"

"Yeah," said Haru.

"Well, I, uh, better go back to Gumi and Yue," said Katara, still very red. She bit her lip. "I’ll— I’ll still see you around, right?"

Haru blinked, the viper rat nest in his stomach wriggling again.

"Of course, Katara."

She looked at him with uncertain blue eyes and smiled just as uncertainly.

"Okay. I’m really sorry, Haru. I, I hope you— uh, find a date for the ball."

He swallowed. "Yeah, me too."

She walked away. Haru called after her before he could stop himself.

"Who are you going with?"

"Oh!" The fading blush in her cheeks returned in full force. "Um, Jet."

"Oh, right," said Haru.

The viper rats stopped wriggling in his stomach, but it felt as though his insides had been filled with metal and coal that he couldn’t bend.

“There’s a messenger hawk waiting for you,” Akkad told Sokka a bit begrudgingly as he trudged into the Water Tribes common room after his combat finals with Piandao. The waterbender didn’t seem thrilled to pass on the message to his former friend. “I think it’s attacking your bed because of all the breadcrumbs.”

Sokka groaned and rushed to the dormitory. He knew it was a bad idea to keep sneaking egg custard tarts into his bed, but what was a growing boy to do when the kitchens wouldn’t allow midnight snacking?

He swatted the irate bird away from his sheets— ugh, it poked holes in his blanket!— and managed to extract the scroll from its back before the hawk took off towards the aviary with an indignant screech. 

Sokka unfurled the scroll. It was from their father— nothing too surprising about that, since he wrote them about once a week— but Sokka’s instincts told him something was up. 

He read the message again— just usual Dad stuff, like updating them on how the tribe was doing, telling them to keep their heads down and keep each other safe, and reminding them that he and Bato will be at the Academy in about a week’s time to pick them up, so they better be packed and ready to go immediately after the Fire Days Ball. 

Wait a sec. I knew something was up!

He stuffed the parchment into his tunic and scrambled out of his bed to find his sister, mind whirling. He just barely stumbled out of the boys’ dormitory when he saw Katara enter the common room with Yue. 

Oh right. 

Suddenly, his pact with Haru to get dates by dinnertime didn’t seem as imperative compared to the message he received. He shook his head free of Yue’s beautiful blue eyes and beautiful smile and waved his sister over to a quiet corner in the common room. 

“Listen, we’ve got a problem,” he began severely, but Katara just smirked at his tone. 

“Is it about how you haven’t gotten a date yet for the ball?” she teased, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“No! This is serious!” Sokka threw his hand in the air, dislodging their father’s message in his shirt. He hurriedly swiped at the parchment as it fluttered to the ground and shoved it under Katara’s nose agitatedly. “Look at this! This just arrived from Dad.”

His sister pursed her lips and read the message with an eyebrow raised. She looked up at him, unimpressed, when she finished.

“So, what? I told Dad you sneak egg custards into your bed. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Not that — wait, you told Dad about my secret egg custards? No fair! I didn’t tell him about  all your secret waterbending training or Jet or your fortune telling nonsense!”

“Well, there’s nothing he can do about any of those, can he? At least he’ll be able to stop you from stashing seal jerky in your pelt back home.”

“I get snacky! You know Gran-Gran won’t allow me near the cooking pot since I burned Sampi’s hair loopies off that one time!” Several heads turned towards the siblings and Sokka schooled his face into his “serious big brother” face. “Katara, that’s not important right now. Read the message again. Dad’s coming to pick us up with Bato.”

Katara frowned at their father’s letter. “Yeah, he’s going to pick us up after the ball. So?”

“So, something’s wrong, obviously! Why would Dad leave the South Pole just to pick us up? He never leaves the tribe— well, not since the last Fire Nation raid—” 

“Maybe he has to iron out some stuff in the Earth Kingdom or with the Fire Nation? He did say more people have been coming to our port since the Fire Lord allowed us to trade again.” Katara studied their father’s words pensively. “I don’t think this means that anything’s too wrong, Sokka.”

“I’m telling you, my instincts are never wrong—”

“Oh, like the time your instincts told you it was safe to keep a polar bear puppy as a pet and Dad had to fight off his mom from attacking the village?”

“I stand by that. I still think Foofy Snugglypops would’ve made a great guard polar bear dog.” Sokka huffed and crossed his arms, his jaw set in a stubborn line. “And I still think something’s up. Think about it. Dad always says wolves are strongest with their pack. Leaving with Bato would mean leaving the tribe unprotected for at least a month. Why would Dad risk that?”

“I don’t know, Sokka. Maybe it’s safer now that more people are visiting the South Pole?” Katara worried her lip, not entirely unconvinced. Why would their father pick them up if it weren’t important?

She suddenly grabbed Sokka’s arm. “Sokka! Do you think Headmaster Iroh told Dad about my fight with Pakku?”

Sokka frowned, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. Pakku already allowed you to learn waterbending from him, so it’s not like it’s still a problem. Whatever it is, it most likely has something to do with the tribe, otherwise he wouldn’t bring Bato.”

“Well, let’s just hope it’s not a matter of life and death,” concluded Katara, trying to quell the worry in her gut. 

“Oooh, you could ask out Chan!” Ty Lee suggested, happily licking her ice cream cone. 

Azula made a disgusted face. 

“I do not want your leftovers, Ty Lee,” the princess said, head held high. Dressed in common Fire Nation garb, her hair free from its usual phoenix tail and flowing freely over her shoulders, she looked like a regular Academy student taking time off to wander around Ember Island. 

But even when she was pretending to be somebody else, the Fire Princess still carried herself with such a regal air— new clothes and a different plait wouldn’t change the fact that she owned everything she stepped on, oh no, don’t let anyone forget it. Ty Lee admired her for that.

However, Ty Lee was also on a matchmaking mission, and acting like you owned everything wasn’t going to help Azula find a date for the ball.

“Chan and I only kissed, like, three times, Az— Ching Shih,” she grinned at her best friend, who did not seem impressed. “He’s really nice and he’s really cute and strong! I really liked him.”

“He’s an airhead who thinks his father’s position in the navy will buy him favors,” Azula said disdainfully as she smoothed down her hair. “And I don’t need ‘cute and strong.’ I’m cute and strong enough on my own. Besides, if you liked him that much, why don’t you ask him out?”

“She got bored of him,” Mai succinctly explained.

“I did not!” Ty Lee gasped, aghast. “I just didn’t like how he and Ruon Jian were fighting over me, that’s all!”

“Oh, boohoo,” Azula rolled her eyes and strode ahead, leading them to the Fire Nation patrol tower on the remote end of the island. She glanced at Ty Lee over her shoulder. “Alright. Let’s make a deal. You convince those guards to let us in, and I will begin to consider thinking about asking Chan to the ball.”

“Deal!” Ty Lee pumped a fist in the air, threw her ice cream cone over her shoulder, twisted her legs up in the air, and strode to the tower on her hands. 

Mai raised an eyebrow.  

“That’s the plan? We’re just going to walk in?”

The Fire Princess smirked. 

“What idiot do you take me for? I just needed a distraction.”

Mai smiled lightly as her friend made her way to the other side of the patrol tower, out of sight from Ty Lee and the three guards she was flirting with. Azula stepped back a few paces, a calculating look on her face, before smiling deviously and running up the brick wall. Fire burst from her feet and propelled her into the second floor window. 

Mai sighed and followed suit, using momentum to grab onto the windowsill. How typical of Azula to disregard the fact that she didn’t have firebending to get her up the last few feet. 

The Fire Princess was already waiting in the dark hallway with two unconscious guards at her feet by the time Mai jumped down from the window. 

“I didn’t know you could fly with firebending,” she commented dryly, already unsheathing several stilettos from her billowing pants. Island wear didn’t provide much for weapon concealment, but Mai always found a way. 

Azula shrugged carelessly in response to her statement. 

“I didn’t know, either, but it’s nice to know I can still surprise myself,” she smoothly replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She nodded down the hall. “I think the records are down there.” 

Mai nodded, a gleam in her eyes. She didn’t know nor care what Azula wanted from boring patrol records or correspondence intercepted by Fire Nation troops, but dammit, this was thrilling. She sped down the hallway in a quiet blur, Azula running right beside her with a smirk on her lips. Mai resisted the urge to laugh. It was the first time in months that she felt adrenaline coursing through her veins— even combat training in the Academy had gotten too tiresome, too routinary. 

She sent a flurry of senbon out as they entered the room and pinned the lone guard to the wall without a second thought. Azula placed a well-practiced blow on the guard’s head and dusted her hands smugly as he slumped unconscious. 

“What are we looking for?” Mai asked, appearing disinterested as she looked around the room. 

Azula was already rifling through the files that cluttered the desk. 

“Anything from our Water Tribe friends. Particularly,” she carefully extracted a single parchment from the haphazard pile and tapped the signature, “between the Northern chief and my uncle’s waterbending friend.”

Mai nodded and examined the scrolls stuffed into a shelf. She pulled one out and studied the seal. It was already broken— it was probably queued for inconspicuous resealing. Mai wondered if the other nations were just too trusting and oblivious or if they just didn’t care that all their letters were already read by the Fire Nation by the time they arrived. 

Not that any of it mattered to her. 

“This one’s addressed to the Southern Water Tribe chief and his children in the Academy,” she said. She scoffed after a quick perusal of its contents. “It’s an invitation to a wedding.”

Azula raised an eyebrow and lit a flame in her palm. “Give me that.”

Mai handed over the scroll, half-expecting Azula to burn it, but the princess just let her fire pass over the parchment, barely close enough for the flame to lick the surface. There was a pause, then Azula frowned.

“Let’s keep looking,” she commanded, discarding the scroll carelessly on the table. Mai had just placed the letter back on the shelf— it didn’t look like it was nearly burnt— when Azula stood beside her and plucked another scroll from the shelf. Over the princess’s shoulder, Mai saw that the scroll bore not the Water Tribe insignia, but the Academy’s. 

“I need your knife,” the princess said, holding her hand out. Mai passed her one of her daggers and watched as Azula deftly slid the blade beneath the seal. 

Azula let out a satisfied chuckle. 

“It seems Uncle and the Southern chief communicate more than we thought,” she muttered, eyes flicking hungrily over the letter. Mai caught a snippet of Iroh’s elegant handwriting— unfortunately, we will need reassurance from our brothers and sisters in the South— before a clatter in the hallway alerted them their time was up. 

Azula replaced the missive and Mai wrenched her knives from the still unconscious guard’s uniform. Without a word, the two flitted back into the hall and jumped out the window just as the other guards started stirring. 

Ty Lee was waiting for them at the base of the tower with big sad eyes. 

“You left without me,” she said, a little accusingly, her lower lip trembling. 

“Oh, Ty Lee, grow up,” snapped Azula. “I knew you could handle yourself, otherwise I wouldn’t have trusted you alone.”

The other girl bit her lip and nodded resignedly. 

Mai sighed and placed a hand on Ty Lee’s hunched shoulder. “Are we shopping or not?”

Ty Lee perked up instantly and somersaulted gleefully towards the town proper. Mai and Azula followed at a much leisurely pace, both rolling their eyes at the acrobat’s antics. 

The three stopped at a small store by the baywalk. Groups of locals and students alike milled around the shop, chattering as they browsed the display. Ty Lee beamed and looped her arms through Mai’s and Azula’s and marched them around the crowded aisles, cooing over several dresses and pulling out ensembles for her friends to try. 

Mai groaned as her friend threw a flimsy red lace dress on top of the growing pile of clothes in her arms. 

“You can’t hide a weapon in this thing,” she complained. 

“‘The only weapon you need is your body!’” Ty Lee chirped in a practiced, singsong voice. 

“Is that what Ty Woo’s been telling you?” Mai scrunched up her face and discarded the lacy dress back onto the rack. “Because that’s disgusting.”

Azula hummed in agreement. 

“I don’t see why we have to wear fancy dresses for the ball, either,” said the Fire Princess, eyeing the dresses Ty Lee picked out for her as though they were enemies on a battlefield. “I wear my armor for ceremonies at the Palace, and no one ever complained.”

“That’s because you’ll burn them if they did,” Ty Lee pointed out with a smile, dumping several more articles of clothing into the princess’s arms. “But you’d look so pretty in all of these! Anyone you ask to dance won’t be able to say no!”

Mai exchanged a look with Azula and shrugged. 

“That’s true,” Azula finally acquiesced. “Let’s go try these on and head back to the Academy.”

“And then you’ll ask Chan to the ball?” Ty Lee clasped her hands hopefully and looked at her friend with shining koala puppy dog eyes. 

The Fire Princess rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’ll begin to think about asking that airhead Chan to the ball.”

Ty Lee giddily pumped her fist in the air. “Yipee!”

Chapter Text

“No peeking.”

Katara giggled, her hands over her eyes, acutely aware of Jet’s hand on the small of her back as he led her through the heavy double doors of the Great Hall. 

He’d told her that he and his Freedom Fighters had helped put together the decorations for the Fire Days Ball— Katara had smiled proudly at that, especially after seeing him help the kitchen staff haul crates of food up. The one time she served detention in the kitchens really made her appreciate all the effort the staff went through. That was why she still couldn’t understand Sokka’s dislike towards Jet— after she’d gushed about how thoughtful he was, Sokka just scoffed and said his “people instincts” were never wrong. Katara supposed it was less a “people instincts” thing and more of a “stupid ego” thing. 

“Ready?” Jet’s voice was husky in her ear, and she shivered. She nodded in anticipation. “Okay, take a look.”

Katara removed her hands from her eyes and gasped. The Great Hall was decked in lavish  paper streamers fashioned into dragons and phoenix wings; red lanterns hung from the ceiling, the characters for luck and fortune painted on them in black and gold; the four long tables, creaking with the weight of tantalizing festival food, were shoved to the sides, leaving a large, empty space in the middle for dancing. The courtyards on either side of the Hall were scattered with small round tables, each lit with a handful of candles on lotus-shaped candelabras. Strains of music flowed from the High Table, where some of the staff and sifus who frequented music nights grouped themselves with their instruments. 

Students and sifus alike were already mingling, small saucers of food in their hands as they idly walked around, an ever-moving sea of red, gold, and black. 

“D’you like it? It’s a little too Fire Nation for my taste, but...” Jet glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, his lips twitching into a lopsided smirk, which Katara returned with one of her own.

“It’s so red,” she admitted. “But it is pretty. I can’t believe you did all of this.”

The piece of straw in the corner of Jet’s mouth bobbed as he shrugged.

“We just helped the servants. Koh knows they did all of the work.”

Katara laughed and tucked her hand conspiratorially in the crook of his arm. “Well, they did amazing.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he told her, leading her to the buffet. “The end of the ball is going to be explosive.”

Katara grinned. “I can’t wait.”

It wasn’t so bad, Haru thought, surveying the Hall. It was a few hours into the celebrations and a lot of people had come onto the dance floor; Jia and Chinua were dancing nearby— he could see Jia wincing frequently as Chinua trod on her feet— and Headmaster Iroh was waltzing with the waterbending healer, Yugoda, who was blushing and giggling like a teenager. Fong was doing an ungainly two-step with Aunt Wu, who was nervously avoiding his militaristic stomps. 

Haru made his way to the Western Courtyard and over to the table where Sokka was devouring what looked like a whole komodo chicken. 

“How’s it going?” Haru asked the Water Tribe boy, setting down his plate of braised turtleduck. 

“No’ mush,” Sokka replied with his mouth full. “Who needsh damshing, am’righ’?”

Haru just stared at him. 

“Sorry?”

Sokka swallowed mightily and belched. “I said, who needs dancing, am I right?”

“Not me,” Haru said unconvincingly, glancing at the direction of the Great Hall. From what he’d observed, Katara hadn’t left Jet’s side since the ball started. 

“Me neither,” agreed Sokka just as bitterly, taking another huge bite of komodo chicken. 

The two boys stood in sullen silence until Suki wandered over to their spot with a huge mischievous grin on her face. 

“Hey there, big sulkers,” she said, a little too loudly. Haru jumped when she slammed her cup down on the table. “It’s supposed to be a dance, y’know, not a funeral.”

“We don’t feel like dancing,” Sokka replied haughtily, sticking his nose in the air in a way that was reminiscent of his sister. Suki laughed. 

“Why, too afraid to ask your princess to dance, Water Tribe?”

“No! And she’s not my princess! We’re just friends now!” Sokka sputtered, face obviously flushed even in the candlelight. Both Suki and Haru looked unconvinced, and he bristled. “She just doesn’t want to dance, okay! Not even as friends!”

“Aww, you poor little ladies' man,” Suki teased, her tone a tad meaner than usual. She turned to Haru with an eyebrow raised, and the earthbender involuntarily took a step back. “What’s your excuse, Haru?”

“Uh—”

“Something’s up with you,” Sokka interjected, sniffing the air around Suki. “Why are you acting weird?”

Suki smiled lazily and lifted her cup. 

“Ling’s date smuggled something from the kitchens,” she confided loudly. “Perks of having a Freedom Fighter boyfriend. Want some?”

“What is it?” Haru asked, curiosity getting the best of him. 

“Something called firewhiskey—”

“Wait, hold up,” Sokka interrupted again, waving his greasy hands between his Earth Kingdom friends. “What do you mean, Freedom Fighter boyfriend? Katara has a Freedom Fighter boyfriend! The most Freedom Fighter of all Freedom Fighters! Is he gonna get my sister drunk, too?!”

Suki shrugged and took a sip of her drink. “Dunno.”

“I want to try it,” Haru said, reaching for the cup. Sokka almost knocked it out of Suki's hand with his flailing. 

“Wait a sec! We can’t let that slimy snake weasel get my sister drunk! Who knows what he’ll do!”

“Uh, probably something Katara wants him to do?” Suki snickered and Sokka glared at her, face scrunched up and fists clenched. 

“You’re not helping, Suki,” Haru said before his friend could explode, and the Kyoshi warrior raised a hand appeasingly, even though she was still fighting back a grin. 

“Okay, okay, sorry,” she carefully placed her cup down as though it was a handful of blasting jelly. “Sheesh. There’s no need to go all big brother-y and defend Katara’s honor, Sokka. Jet just went off with Qiao and Shui to do some rite of passage thing right now, and Katara’s been dancing with Gumi and that less snotty twin.”

Sokka visibly relaxed. 

“Good, good. Whew,” he sighed, tugging on his wolf tail, unmindfully transferring grease to his hair. He eyed Suki’s cup interestedly. 

“You got enough in there for all three of us?”

Suki smirked knowingly. 

“What in Agni’s name is my sister doing?”

Mai looked up disinterestedly and saw Azula approach Chan with an awkward smile on her face. 

“She’s holding up her end of a deal,” she told Zuko, who was watching his sister with a horrified expression. 

“What kind of deal?” He asked suspiciously, as though any deal Azula made involved roasting people alive. Mai rolled her eyes. 

“A Ty Lee kind of deal,” she explained exasperatedly. 

Zuko scoffed and relaxed somewhat. The two lapsed into silence for a moment, watching as Azula tossed her hair over her shoulder in a poor attempt to imitate what Ty Lee had taught her. 

“This is boring,” Mai commented finally. Zuko turned to her with questioningly. 

“Um, okay.” He cast a look around the crowded Hall. “Do you want to… dance?” 

Mai crossed her arms over her chest and leveled an unimpressed stare at him. 

“No,” she replied firmly. “We don’t dance at parties, remember?”

Zuko looked away with a barely concealed huff. 

“What do you want to do, then?” 

Mai pursed her lips and shrugged. Zuko rolled his eyes to the ceiling and groaned dramatically before flinging himself from his seat. 

“I’m gonna get us drinks.” 

“Whatever.”

“And I thought we were okay,” he muttered as he strode away, shoving and elbowing through the crowd. “How stupid of me.”

There was a line for the drinks, and Zuko resisted the urge to stomp his foot and demand to be served first. Every second away from his girlfriend and her mood was invaluable. 

He finally reached the table laden with cups of maiden heart juice. He grabbed a cup and was just about to take the last one when the person next in line snatched it before he could. 

“Hey!” He snarled, whirling on the juice thief. “That’s for my cranky girlfriend!”

He stumbled backwards as he came face to face with Katara’s icy glare. She raised an eyebrow at him and pointedly took a sip from her— his!— cup. 

“Is your girlfriend always cranky or is it because she’s with you?” 

Zuko merely narrowed his eyes at her. He did not need this right now. He did not need moody girls with their moodiness directed at him as if he did everything wrong. 

He whirled on the servant who stood idly beside the table. 

“You!” he spat out harshly. “There’s no more juice left!”

“Aw, right,” the man gazed at him blearily before realizing who Zuko was. He bowed and ambled unsteadily to a spot nearby where food preparations seemed to be made, nearly tripping over a crate of maiden heart fruits. 

Zuko wrinkled his nose in disgust; he recognized the man now— he was one of those ever-drunk servants in the kitchens. 

“You better not mess up those drinks,” he threatened, trying to ignore the way Katara tensed beside him. 

The servant— Nekhi, he recalled— shrugged merrily and deftly sliced open a fruit. 

“Ah, no need t’ worry, Yer Highness, sir. I could make these in me sleep.” He chuckled to himself. “Me daughters— all eight o’ ‘em— they love maiden heart juice, see.”

“I asked for juice, not your whole life sto—” Zuko began, but Katara cut him off. 

“It’s great you do that for your kids, Nekhi,” she said earnestly. “They’re lucky to have a dad who does that for them.”

Nekhi grinned toothily as he squeezed the blood red juice into a bowl. 

“Aye, miss, I gots to. I don’ see ‘em as much— only during t’ summers, so I gotta make ‘em ‘s much as I can afore I leave ‘em again, but maiden hearts’re real expensive in the colonies, ya know?” He wiped his hands on his apron, leaving scarlet handprints on the white fabric. He bent over and struggled to heft a small keg of water onto the table. “Gotta git— tons ‘a odd jobs over t’ summer— if I wanna keep my girls happy.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” said Katara. “Here, let me help.”

She bent water from the barrel and deposited it into the bowl. Nekhi beamed at her before sloppily ladling juice into a cup and handing it to Zuko. 

Zuko scowled at the two of them and stomped his way back to Mai. She did not look happy when he handed her the freshly made juice. 

“There’s no ice,” she commented sourly. 

Zuko snapped.

“Go get a waterbender to ice it for you, then!” 

He threw his own cup down on the floor, unmindful of its blood-like contents splattering his robes, unmindful of the heads that turned in his direction, unmindful of Mai’s narrowed eyes and the fact that he just lashed out at her. 

Agni take them all. 

He marched back to the Fire Nation common room without a backward glance. 

Katara wandered back to the Western Courtyard, a little dazed after her encounter with the Fire Prince. She hadn’t planned to get all snarky on him, but seeing him riled up felt vindicating. Plus, with the way he treated Nekhi, Katara felt she should’ve been a little meaner. Maybe Jet had a point about firebenders. 

Speaking of Jet, she hadn’t seen him yet after he went off with his recruits. Duty calls, he’d told her with a wink, but now Katara was a bit lonely despite the people crowding around her. 

“Hey, have you seen my brother?” Katara asked Jia, who was hunched over a plate of dumplings at a nearby table. 

The Kyoshi warrior sighed tiredly. “I think I heard Sokka shouting earlier that he was gonna throw up. I dunno where he and Suki and Haru went, though.”

Katara’s brows furrowed in concern. Sokka never threw up, not even when he ate an entire tiger seal by himself— he just complained about stomach aches and slept for almost a day, like a hibernating polar bear dog. 

"I better go find him," she told Jia, who just nodded glumly and popped a dumpling into her mouth. 

Katara made her way around the tables, scanning the shadowed areas for her brother and friends. Her search would have been so much easier if the dress code wasn't red or black— belatedly, she wondered if their father doled out what little they had so Sokka could get Fire Nation clothes back in his first year in the Academy. He hadn't exactly told her what happened in the Fire Days Ball the year before. 

She was just about to give up her search when she heard a familiar voice call her name. She whirled around and her eyes alighted on Jet and his Freedom Fighters, who were standing around wooden crates instead of a table. She smiled at the group as she approached, and tried to hide her blush when Jet threw an arm casually around her shoulders. 

"Having a good time, gorgeous?" he asked, grinning down at her. She grinned back. 

"I would be, if I hadn't heard that my brother was throwing up somewhere," she replied. One of Jet's new recruits studied her intently. 

"Hey, you're Suki's friend, right?"

She nodded. 

The boy poorly disguised a snort. "Oh, don't worry about your brother, he just had a little too much to drink."

"Drink?" Katara blinked, confused. "Is there something wrong with drinking too much maiden heart juice?"

The Freedom Fighter laughed and Jet punched him lightly on the shoulder. 

"Qiao, don't be mean," Jet said disapprovingly before turning back to Katara. "Some kids just snuck into the servants' alcohol stash. Don't worry about your brother, Katara. He'll sleep it off."

"Oh." 

Realization struck and Katara scowled. She knew the men of her tribe drank moonshine during hunts to ward off the cold of the tundra, but she also remembered how loud and rowdy they became during the Glacier Spirits Festival. No wonder Jia said Sokka was shouting that he had to throw up.

"Would Sokka get in trouble for drinking?" she asked Jet, but it was another Freedom Fighter who answered. 

"Firewhiskey's nothing compared to cactus juice," the boy said with a shrug. "And everyone knows the Headmaster sneaks that stuff into his tea on music nights."

"Shui's right," said Qiao with a light laugh. "Besides, we only got Nekhi's stash. Zhou Qi has the stronger batch."

"They only drink all the time because they don't want to be stuck here in the Academy working for the Fire Nation," spat out Jet, his grip around Katara's shoulders tightening. His dark eyes gleamed and he set his mouth in a firm line. "But we're going to fix that."

"How?" Katara asked, intrigued. Nekhi seemed genuinely upset that he couldn't be with his daughters most of the year, and if Jet could somehow give the staff more time off to be with their families…

He smirked at her and motioned to the crates at their feet. Katara moved forward and examined the closest one— they looked like they were filled with globules of candy, but the smell was off. 

"What are these?"

"Blasting jelly," Shui explained with a smug look. "They don't sell that to just anyone, y'know."

Blasting jelly? How will that help the kitchen staff? A spike of fear embedded itself in Katara's gut. 

"What—" she turned to Jet, heart in her throat and dread in her veins, "What are they for?"

“The servants are in charge of setting up the fireworks for the end of the Fire Days Ball,” Jet disclosed with a devious smile. “Year after year, they’re forced to celebrate the traditions of the people that colonized them, because it’s not enough for the Fire Nation to just take their lands and steal their crops. They’re stuck here working for the Academy and the Fire Nation and they can’t do anything about it— but if something goes wrong when they light the fireworks…”

Katara’s eyes widened as the implication of his plan sunk in.

“What? How could that possibly help the staff?” She planted her hands on her hips and looked at the other Freedom Fighters, all of whom seemed as proud of the plan as Jet was. “What’s wrong with you? People could get hurt! And the staff would lose their jobs!”

Jet’s sharp eyes narrowed at her, but she stood straight and met his angry gaze.

"You don’t understand, Katara," he said with a frustrated sigh that infuriated Katara further, “We’re liberating them. They’re slaves to the Fire Nation—”

"They're not slaves," corrected Katara, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why would Nekhi be allowed to see his family during the summers if he was a slave?”

"Prisoners with work, then," said Jet bitterly, brows downturned and jaw jutted out. “They’re slaves in all but name, Katara. We’re doing them a favor. If they lost their job here in the Academy, they would be free to build a life for themselves outside of the influence of the Fire Nation—”

“No, they’ll have to work themselves to death or beg off the streets just so they could feed their families!” 

Distantly, Katara was aware of frost forming at her feet and drinks exploding in the other Freedom Fighters’ hands, but she was beyond caring. She stomped her feet and ice spikes burst forth, and she took savage pleasure in the fear in the other Freedom Fighters’ eyes. 

Not in Jet’s eyes, though. Jet met her glare with one of his own.

“It’s a small price to pay for their freedom from the Fire Nation’s thumb,” he growled.

“How can you say that! They won’t be free from the Fire Nation! If anything, this puts them even more under the Fire Nation’s watch, because they’ll be blamed for some stupid stunt that wasn’t even their fault to begin with! You’ll make them seem like traitors! What did you think the Fire Lord did to traitors? Give them tea?”

“Better to die a traitor than to die in chains.” 

“And condemn their families to death, too?”

“Their families should be grateful—”

“Well, they won’t be!” She clenched her fists at her sides. “You’ll be doing to them the same thing the Fire Nation did to your family, Jet!”

Jet’s expression went blank, and when he spoke, it was barely above a whisper. 

“It’s not the same thing.”

“It might as well be,” Katara spat out. She stepped back and uncorked her water skin. “I won’t let you do this.”

Jet drew himself up to his full height. "I won't let you stop me."

Katara bit her lip, hands hovering above her water skin, eyes flicking between Jet and the crate of blasting jelly. She didn't know if water would ruin the explosives, and she was also aware of the other Freedom Fighters closing in on her. She didn't really have much experience fighting non-benders aside from Suki and Sokka, could she take them—?

"SNEAK ATTACK!" 

Katara barely registered the dark blur that tackled Jet to the ground before she turned and froze the crate of blasting jelly into a whole block of ice.

"Keep your dirty tentacles off my sister, you slimy snake weasel!" Sokka yelled, clumsily grappling with Jet on the ground. Katara blasted the Freedom Fighters trying to pull Sokka away, pinning them to trees with swathes of ice. She dimly heard Suki's loud whoops and cheers— why isn't she helping out?— before Jet managed to buck Sokka off and unsheath his twin hooks. 

"Sokka!"

He unsteadily jumped away, narrowly avoiding the weapons. Katara moved to summon water from her skins, only to come up empty handed.

"Suki!" She yelled, not taking her eyes off Jet and her brother, "A little help!"

"Right!" 

Her metal fan flew into Katara's line of vision, only to clip Sokka at the back of the head. 

"Ow!"

"Oops," Suki muttered, and Katara finally faced her, aghast. The Kyoshi Warrior didn't seem too fazed, just mildly puzzled. Her fan clattered uselessly to the ground and she frowned at it. "My aim's way off. Could you get 'em to stop moving so much?"

"Never mind!" Katara stomped the ground in frustration and scanned the surrounding tables for water. Her eyes alighted on a half-drunk cup of maiden heart juice and immediately splashed its contents in Jet's face.

"Agh!"

He let go of his swords to claw at his eyes, and Katara quickly swiped the weapons and pointed them haphazardly at his chest.

There was a resounding boom and crackle, and golden light bathed the courtyard. Katara paused long enough to look at the sky— it was as if a hundred more stars hung suspended in the darkness before twinkling out a split second later, and if she weren't so distraught she would've appreciated the beauty of it— then she focused on Jet.

"Looks like you're too late, Jet."

He looked at her through narrowed, red-rimmed eyes.

"Someday you'll understand why we tried to do this," he told her.

She held his gaze a little longer before she threw his hooks at his feet.

"I hope I never do."

She grabbed her brother's arm as she stalked away. Suki stumbled after them, but not before picking up her fan and pointing it threateningly at Jet and the other Freedom Fighters.

Katara thanked the spirits that she wouldn't have to see Jet again for two months.

When Haru woke up, he felt like someone had buried him under a pile of boulders. Even the cushions he laid on felt like they were filled with sand instead of down.

Something hard and metal rapped him on the side of the head.

"Hey, get up," a feminine voice said, and Haru vaguely wondered why there would be a girl in the boys' dormitory. He chose to ignore it, because it simply didn't make sense.

"Haru," the voice said firmly. Hands shoved at him and he groaned, the surface below him rocking at a pace that made him nauseous. "Get off the common room floor, c'mon. Sokka and Katara are leaving."

"Already?" He sat up in surprise and immediately regretted it. Bile rose in his throat and his eyes watered with the effort of not vomiting all over the common room floor. 

Bits and pieces of the night came back to him— the three of them drinking about half of Ling's firewhiskey, bringing Sokka to the river to puke, getting incredibly sleepy while Sokka got more and more energetic, and finally crawling back to the Earth Kingdom common room when Sokka challenged Suki to another arm-wrestling match he was sure to lose.

He accepted the glass of water that Suki proffered and stood up cautiously. 

"Where are they now?" he asked her, a little bit surprised that she looked more put-together than he was. She definitely drank more than him and Sokka did combined.

"They're still packing up, I think. That tall, prissy Water Tribe girl said over breakfast that she saw Southern sails on the horizon." She eyed him critically as he guzzled the water. "You still have time to fix yourself up."

He nodded and trudged to the boys' dormitory with half a mind to go back to sleep. He shook himself and made his way to the communal bathrooms instead. He heard voices grumbling in hushed tones before he opened the door.

"...could've taken her, if her dumb brother didn't distract us," said someone who sounded a lot like Qiao, except he lacked his usual teasing tone.

"They're really just backward savages," said someone else darkly— Haru recognized him as one of the older Freedom Fighters that Jet managed to recruit. "Jet didn't know any better, or he wouldn't have dated her."

Haru's blood ran cold. Were they talking about Katara? What happened last night?

"She probably did some waterbending brainwashing on him so she could stop our plan," Shui said, his smirk unmistakable in his tone. "You know what they say about waterbenders…"

The smattering of snickers and snorts of agreement that followed faded to uncomfortable coughs, until one of the guys— Haru guessed it was the older Freedom Fighter again— said, “Jet’s pretty out of it now…”

“I’m sure he’s already planning our next attack," said Shui firmly. "Trust me, he won't let that water hussy back him into a wall."

Footsteps approached the door, and Haru barely had time to scuttle backwards before it was thrown open. He contemplated glaring at the group, but glaring had never been his forte, so instead he ducked his head and shouldered past the Freedom Fighters. 

"Exam results are out!" Yuka announced as she poked her head in the girls' dormitory. Gumi groaned into the pile of clothes she and Katara were folding and packing up.

"I forgot we actually had final exams," Katara muttered as the twins and Baya rushed out of the room. Gumi wrinkled her nose and stuffed her parka into her bag with a little more force than necessary.

"I wouldn't call our last battle with Pakku as a 'final exam,'" she said. "He went so easy on us, I don't know whether I should be insulted or relieved."

Katara shrugged and carefully added the dress her friends gave her on top of her other clothes.

"At least we know we passed that. I'm more worried about History." She paused in her packing and bit her lip. "Do people actually fail in the Academy?"

Gumi giggled.

"Yeah, but they just hold you back a year until you get it right," she grinned and nudged her friend with her elbow. "Scared?"

"You wish!" Katara scoffed, then shook her head. When did she start sounding like Sokka? She laughed lightly and placed the last of her clothes in her knapsack. "C'mon, let's go see if Pakku failed any boys."

"I'm really gonna miss having you guys around to practice waterbending with," Gumi mused as she tied her bag shut. "It's going to be such a boring summer at the healing huts."

"You and Yue can practice without me," said Katara as they headed to the common room. "I'm going to be stuck fishing with Sokka again for the whole summer."

Gumi made a face as they waited for their turn to see the exam results.

"Oh, I don't think Chief Arnook will let Princess Yue practice combative waterbending," she said. "It's already caused enough scandal here with the other girls; I can't imagine how the rest of the tribe will react if they found out. They might not even let her marry Hahn."

"Well, from what I've heard of him, she's better off not marrying anyone," muttered Katara, earning her a playful shove from her friend. 

"Hahn's really not so bad!" protested Gumi. "He can be really charming! Plus, he's years older than Princess Yue, so she's sure to have a good life, 'cause he can provide for her—"

"I'm not sure that's what Yue wants in a guy…" said Katara distractedly, craning her neck over her classmates' to read her and Gumi's marks. She gasped excitedly. "We passed all our subjects!"

"Alright!" Gumi jumped up and hugged her. "At least I have some good news to tell my mom when she gets upset that I challenged Sifu Pakku!"

"Sokka?"

The Water Tribe warrior looked up from the piles of clothes that he was futilely stuffing into his knapsack. Princess Yue stood at the half-open door of the boys' dormitory, looking solemn.

"Oh, hey, Yue!" Sokka tried to greet her cheerfully, but his voice sounded flat to his own ears. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Baya said she saw Southern sails on the horizon, so I'm trying to pack, but it's like my stuff grew bigger or something, or maybe it's 'cause Katara and Gran-Gran aren't around to help me stuff it all in…" 

He was babbling. He knew he was babbling, but he just didn't know how to deal with her sad eyes. Sad eyes reminded him of Things He Would Rather Not Talk About.

"Anyway, I'm real excited about the summer— uh, I guess it'd be pretty boring back home, but it's just two months, and Dad said the tribe was flourishing now, so there's gotta be some new stuff to see— what're your plans for the summer—?"

He stumbled backwards as Yue threw herself at him, arms tight around his neck.

"Sokka," she breathed, and Sokka's heart nearly fell to his knees. He knew that tone. It was the same tone she used when she told him she was engaged. 

"Sokka… I won't be coming back next year."

"What?"

He must've heard wrong. Yes, intellectually, he knew they couldn't be anything more than friends, but to never see her again? This can't be happening. The Academy wouldn't allow it, right? There must be some kind of mistake. 

"I'll be married in the summer," she whispered against his shoulder. "Father already wrote Headmaster Iroh. I won't be coming back."

Sokka closed his eyes against the tears that smarted the corners of his eyes. Warriors didn't cry. Warriors fought. Warriors painted their faces and donned their armor and looked at the enemy in the eyes. 

"Maybe there's some way I could—"

"No, Sokka." Her voice was tight with tears. "It has to be done."

Warriors didn't cry.

But warriors also knew when to pull back from a losing battle.

Tears escaped from his closed eyes and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and buried his face in her hair. 

"I hope he makes you happy, Yue."

"I don't think anyone else but you could make me happy, Sokka."

Frost take him. If anybody asked why he looked like he'd sobbed his eyes out, he'll just knock them out with his club. Warriors did that, too, right?

"Whoa, who died?"

Suki's quip fell flat as Sokka trudged on ahead and tossed his knapsack angrily in the front hall. The Kyoshi warrior raised her eyebrows at Katara, who had followed her brother out of the heavy double doors of the Great Hall. The younger girl just shrugged and mouthed, "Yue," with a sad look of concern. Suki nodded and fell back beside Haru, who still looked a little worse for wear but otherwise awake.

"That's Bato's ship on the docks," announced Sokka flatly, staring out into the open seas visible from the large arched windows of the front hall. Katara rushed to his side.

"I don't see them disembarking," she mused, exchanging a glance with her brother. "You think they're meeting with Headmaster Iroh?"

"Why would they meet with the headmaster?" asked Suki, standing behind them to get a glimpse of the Southern Water Tribe's ship.

"Beats me," said Sokka, some of his old vigor back in his eyes. "I'm betting a bowl of sea prunes that it has something to do with the Fire Nation and the tribe."

"Oh, please. I still think it's nothing serious, Sokka," Katara said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Just you wait—"

"Right, 'cause your instincts are never wrong—"

"There you are!"

The four of them turned at the newcomer's voice; Sokka and Katara simultaneously gasped in delight.

"Dad!"

Suki and Haru stood back as the Water Tribe siblings ran towards the weathered-looking warrior. Another tribesman, thinner and slightly taller than Sokka and Katara's father, laughed warmly and clapped the children's backs and ruffled their hair. 

Amidst exclamations of "You've grown taller! Did they stretch you in combat training?" and  "You're so skinny; your grandmother will have a fit when she sees you!" Hakoda disentangled himself from his children, the coral beads around his neck and arms clicking into place. He smiled at the two other children hovering in the background of their reunion.

"I assume you two are the friends that Sokka and Katara wrote about," he said, eyes crinkling as he smiled. He offered his arm in greeting and nodded to his comrade. "I'm Hakoda. This here's Bato, my first mate."

Suki was the first one to step forward and grip the chief's arm.

"Suki," she said in a surprisingly sharp tone, "From Kyoshi Island."

"A Kyoshi warrior, huh?" Bato's brows climbed up to his hairline as he spared Sokka and Katara a sideways glance. "That's… interesting."

The Water Tribe siblings looked in confusion between Suki and their father, but before anyone could explain the tension, Haru bowed to the older men.

"And I'm Haru, Chief Hakoda, Mr. Bato," he said. "From a colony in the western Earth Kingdom."

"Well, it has been nice meeting you two," said Hakoda, all but prying his hands from Suki's grip. "But we must be going if we're to catch the tides. Sokka? Katara? Where are your things?"

The two rushed to where they'd left their knapsacks, and Katara pulled Suki to the side in question.

"What was that about, Suki?"

"Sorry," the Kyoshi warrior shrugged abashedly. "There's still some fresh wounds between Kyoshi Island and the South Pole. I forgot myself for a minute."

"What kind of wounds?" asked Sokka suspiciously from her other side.

"The Southern Revolt," Suki said simply, falling into step beside Haru, who furrowed his brows.

"I thought the Southern Revolt ended sixty years ago?" he asked. Sokka and Katara exchanged a look, before Katara shrugged uncomfortably.

"Well, what ended sixty years ago was the Siege of the South," she explained. "Our grandmother said the Fire Nation forcibly took all the waterbenders away in a series of raids, because our grandfather, the chief back then, wouldn't allow any Southerner to attend the Academy." If only I'd connected the dots sooner— why else would Mom make me hide my bending? "The Southern Revolt, meanwhile…"

She shot her brother a pleading look, suddenly too emotionally tired to tell the tale. Sokka coughed and gestured nervously.

"The Southern Revolt started about six years ago, when, uh, the Fire Nation attacked us 'cause—" another uncomfortable cough— "Well, they thought we were hiding a waterbender who was of age to go to the Academy. Dad and the others fought back, the kids studying here at that time were sent home, then everyone who could still fight went away for years…" He fiddled with the strap of his bag. "I don't see what this has to do with Kyoshi Island, Suki. The revolt ended, like, three years ago."

Suki narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"And yet, in that time, your men boarded, attacked, and sunk every ship that passed by the Southern Seas, whether or not they were Fire Nation steamers or Earth Kingdom galleons," she explained bitterly. "We would've been okay with it if they had just kept sabotaging the Fire Nation outpost on Whaletail Island, but no, your men had to bleed us dry, too." 

She sighed and shook her head. 

"I'm sorry, you guys— it's just, I was there when the Southern warriors stormed our shores, you know? I was just a kid back then, and it was terrifying. It was why I joined the Kyoshi warriors; I wanted to protect my home. I know now that it wasn't personal, and that they weren't aiming for us, only the Fire Nation soldiers, but when I saw your dad's clothes, it just…"

Sokka tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder, and Katara awkwardly hugged her from the side while Haru patted her back.

"Sorry, Suki," muttered Katara.

"We didn't know," said Sokka, glancing down at their father and Bato, both of whom were walking down the dirt path down to the docks, marveling at how much changed since they last set foot in the Academy. He frowned at them— did they really include innocent people when they fought in the war? Is that what warriors are supposed to do?

Suki chuckled and waved them off. 

"Look, you guys, it's okay! I don't hold any grudges against you two." She grinned mischievously. "Unless you forget to write me over the summer."

"It might be hard to get a civilian messenger hawk into our village, with all the soldiers around," said Haru with an apologetic smile, "But I'll try to write you guys, too."

Katara beamed and threw her arms around the two of them, and Sokka launched himself into the group hug with a laugh. 

"I'll miss you guys so much!" said Katara. 

"Yeah, it'll be a real boring summer without you two," said Sokka. "I'll get sick of watching Katara show off  her waterbending to the village."

"It's an ancient art! People will be curious about what I learned here!" exclaimed Katara angrily.

"Oh, sure, I bet they're really curious about how much fish you can trap in ice now—"

"Please, they all know that it's used for more than just fishing, Sokka—"

The two continued squabbling until they climbed aboard their tribe's ship, its sails raised and ready to go. 

"Hold tight!" their father called out as he steered the ship from the docks.

The siblings held onto the railings and waved at their friends, who were both enthusiastically waving back at them until they disappeared from view.

"Ready to go back home, sis?" Sokka asked, leaning back on the railings as their ship traced the curved shores of the Academy.

Katara caught a glimpse of the outcropping that was the waterbending training grounds and the towering mass of black stone that was the Great Hall, and she smiled to herself.

"Yeah," she said, watching the Academy shrink in the horizon. "I missed home."