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“Gathering intelligence for when you’re back home, Zuko?”
He sighed and put down the map he’d been reading.
“Sokka asked me to take a look at these,” he answered in the gentlest voice possible. Katara would lash out at him with the smallest excuse. He suppressed the spark of irritation. Why was everyone but her okay with his presence there? He was being sincere!
She walked into the room, eyes fixed on him.
“About what?”
“The Caldera,” he answered simply, pretending his attention was back on the map. In reality, he was hyper-aware of her every movement.
She wasn’t showing any trace of leaving.
“Well? Will you tell me about it? Or are those secrets you won’t betray, like you betrayed m— us?” Katara mocked him.
“I didn’t think you’d want to listen to me,” he answered in a low voice, only a little reproaching. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to hear him and he extended the map on top of the table. It was a miracle to find anything in that room, but it was unsurprising, since it was Sokka’s domain.
“You saw pretty much everything the day of the invasion. I'm just marking the entrances and the barriers. The most obvious one is the one around the Palace. It takes advantage of the caldera,” he said, tentatively, and continued when she didn’t exit the room. “The old crater of an extinct volcano... A mountain that expels fire.”
“I know what a volcano is, thank you very much,” Katara snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “No need to sound so patronizing.”
“Sorry.” He left Sokka’s map back on top of the table. “It’s just… sorry. I didn’t mean to insult.”
How on earth did he manage to worsen his stand with her with every word he uttered? Better to leave before he screwed up any further. With soft steps, he left her to her fuming.
“We have a legend,” she said, right before he crossed the threshold. “About a volcano. The Mountain of Smoke and the White Lady.”
“Can you tell me about it?” he asked, timidly, fearing another explosion of her exuberant temper.
A shadow of doubt crossed her face. But the lack of explosion made him linger on for a moment longer, waiting for her answer.
To his surprise, she started talking, arms still crossed.
“One age ago, during the dawn of the world, there were many tribes in the South Pole. One of the biggest had a princess, more beautiful than the southern lights, appointed as their next Chieftess.” Her voice was steady and rich, and a delight to listen at.
“Her father led the tribe with justice and good vision, considering everyone’s opinions when making decisions. She learned from him and always put her people before her own wishes.”
She wasn’t looking at him. He sat quietly, taking advantage of the moment of respite to observe her: the proud curve of her neck, the softness of her hair, the expressivity of her sad smile as she continued talking.
“One winter, a man arrived in a small boat, asking for permission to stay. After careful consideration, the tribe accepted him in spite of his firebending, because it isn’t in our nature to deny protection and help to those who seek it in our shores.”
His mouth opened in surprise and to voice a thousand questions that had just occurred to him, but he didn’t dare interrupt her.
“The princess fell in love with him.
“He was a mighty warrior and a powerful bender, but still a foreigner, and her parents were hesitant to allow their wedding.
“You can marry her,” the Chief said, “after you defeat the enemy tribe to ensure our safety.”
“Overjoyed with the good news, the princess started the wedding preparations. The firebender kissed her goodbye and left for battle.
“There was someone who was not happy with the Chief’s decision: a jealous waterbending warrior of the tribe who desired the princess’ affections for himself. He saw in the war an opportunity to get rid of the firebender.
“There were several battles with the other tribe and they were coming out triumphant. Before the end of the last confrontation, the one that would ensure their victory, the jealous warrior stayed behind and froze the firebender’s canoe inside an ice block, and trapped him inside a snow bank. Then, he told the rest of the warriors that the firebender had died valiantly.
“They were sad, but the battles had left a toll and they desired to go back to heal and see their families, so they didn’t return to make sure of it. The jealous warrior smiled, sure that he had killed the firebender.
“When they were back, he went to the Chief and his daughter, who was getting ready for her wedding.
“He said that, despite his strength and courage, the firebender had died in battle.
“The princess wept for three days and three nights, refusing to eat and to see anyone. The tribe left her to mourn, but on the fourth morning, her family entered her room and she was nowhere to be found.
“They followed the footsteps on the snow and found her far away, her lips blue and cold, muttering that she had to find him, find his remains and make sure he was somewhere she could be buried when she died too.
“They took her close to the fire and tried to warm her up, but it was too late. Still draped in her wedding attire, her heartbeat was slowing inexorably despite their efforts. When she closed her eyes, they were sure she would not open them again.
“They had determined that her heart had stopped when the firebender arrived, half frozen after having escaped the jealous warrior’s trap.
“He saw his love lying there, pale and immovile and as cold as the piles of snow around her, and his cry of agony pierced the clouds to reach the ears of the Celestial Spirits.
“She’s dead,” said her father, tears running down his face, realizing the lie of the jealous warrior. “She belongs to the Spirit World now.”
“No!” the firebender lashed out, feeling a heartbeat still inside the princess.
“We must…” they tried to take him away from her, but he raised a wall of fire.
“No! You won’t drive us apart any further!”
“And he took her in her arms and ran away, along the coast they had walked together before the battle. Half mad with grief and unable to see past his pain, he had no plan and didn’t notice the upcoming snow storm, thinking only of getting away from the village.
“When the freezing wind howled and assaulted them with a thousand tiny ice crystals, he seeked shelter in a hunting refuge and held her close to him.
“She opened her eyes and tried to smile.
“You’re here… in the Spirit World… now we won’t be apart anymore,” she whispered before going immobile.
“He laid her on top of the cold earth. He was weakened, but he still lit a flame to illuminate one last time the face he had loved so much in a land that was not his.
“She’s asleep and she will wake up,” he told himself. “Spirits, please let me stay with her forever. I will look over her sleep until she wakes up.”
“The Spirits heard him.
“The next day, when the Chief and his people finally found the last traces of his steps, there was no more coastal plain. There were two mountains instead. The taller one burned with fire and smoke, the other one had the shape of a woman lying on her back, completely covered with snow.”
Katara’s hand caressed the stone of her necklace.
“They say their ghosts help the people who get lost during snowstorms, and lovers who are seeking each other in secret. Gran-Gran says she saw them once, when she was young, before the raids started.”
She returned to her anger.
“Just one more thing that the Fire Nation took from us.”
She was going to get mad, but he spoke anyway.
“That’s a beautiful story,” he ventured. “Does that mean there were firebenders in your tribes before?”
“It’s just an old legend,” Katara shrugged, refusing to look at him. “I don’t think it was so literal.”
“Their ghosts are there and the war is not that old,” he pressed, suddenly very interested in making her admit the possibility of a firebender and a water tribe princess falling in love.
“Forget it," she cut him. "I don’t even know why I told you all this.”
And with those words, she left him alone in Sokka’s ‘strategy room’, the map and the thoughts about war plans long since forgotten.
His mind was much more interested in something else.
If a firebender had carved himself a place in the Southern Water Tribe, then there was hope she could forgive him. He just had to prove himself worthy of the opportunity… which was much easier said than done.
But the hope was there nevertheless.