FicWad

They ended up in a small cabin in a sparse grove of trees. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the vicinity and the cabin had the worn look of long neglect. Katara was relieved water was readily available and together, Zuko and Katara got Zuko’s uncle into the cabin and onto the floor pallet. Katara went to refill her waterskins and Zuko hurriedly built a fire in the fire pit at the center of the room. When Katara returned, Zuko was again sitting at his uncle’s side, anxiously watching the rise and fall of the old man’s chest. Her movement attracted his attention almost immediately. “He’s still unconscious.”

Katara searched through the storage cabinets that lined the wall on the far side of the cabin before she settled in beside the pallet, feeling the injured man’s forehead. She pulled away with a frown, wetting a clean cloth she’d managed to find in one of the cabinets and carefully placed it on his forehead. “He has a fever, but that’s not uncommon with serious injuries.”
She handed off the cloth to Zuko with instructions to keep it cool. With Zuko distracted by his task, Katara turned her attention to the half-healed wound on his chest. Thankfully it hadn’t reopened during their travel and didn’t appear to have any infection, but it still retained the angry red and the new skin looked thin. She frowned again. She didn’t remember her healing back at the ghost town looking so thin—like it would tear at his slightest movement. A quick glance at Zuko proved he had taken her instructions very seriously, his brow furrowed as he wetted the cloth thoroughly. His attention diverted, she concentrated on smoothing out the burned flesh, cursing under her breath when she realized the injury went deeper than she anticipated. Zuko looked at her in alarm, gold eyes wide. “What?”

She looked up in surprise, not realizing Zuko had heard her. The water flowed easily between her hands and she hesitated telling him her findings. Tossing the dirty water out the nearby window, she scowled. “The wound is deeper than I thought.”

Before their eyes, the wound opened again, seeping fresh blood. The new skin was disintegrating rapidly. Katara quickly pulled more water to her, ignoring Zuko’s exclamation of surprise as the wound fully reopened. The water glowed blue and she could feel sweat bead on her forehead. The flesh was refusing to mend and she could feel his uncle’s heart start faltering. “Can’t you do something?”

“I’m trying, Zuko,” she snapped back.

She pulled more water and was considering her options when Zuko started to say something, paused, then started again. “What about what Huu said in the swamp?”

Her brow furrowed, struggling to remember what her bending teacher might have said that would prove useful in this situation. “What did he say?”

Zuko stumbled over his words, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “They could bend the water in the plants, right?”

Katara made an impatient noise and Zuko quickly finished his thought. “Huu said it was possible to bend blood. Blood’s mostly water, right?”

Katara froze. Bloodbend? Was that even possible? She recalled the conversation now that Zuko brought it to the forefront of her mind. Huu had said bloodbending was possible though not many benders were able to accomplish it without assistance and even then, most were unable to do more than sense its presence. She knew she could sense bruising and the like, but actual healing was something else. What he was asking terrified her. Worrying her lip, she glanced at his anxious expression and felt a heavy weight settle in her stomach. “I never tried.”
Even as she said that, she narrowed her concentration, searching for the blood rushing through the older man’s veins. She could feel the pulse of Zuko’s heart racing across from her and blocked that out as best she could. Finally, she sensed the blood pooling beneath the injury and the stuttering beats of the old man’s heart. Lifting her hand, she spread her fingers and gently prodded at the air above the injury. The blood moved, though sluggishly, resisting her guidance. She released it, breathing hard. It was nearly impossible to do and left her feeling drained and weak. Zuko’s uncle, though still unconscious, was now gasping and fear was now settling over her. She recognized the death gasps and could only hope Zuko wasn’t aware of them. Zuko watched, his jaw tense, and Katara took a deep breath, determined to do the impossible.

Once more, she lifted her hand and spread her fingers, grabbing the blood flowing through his veins and bending it to her will. Zuko’s uncle jerked and Zuko gasped, hands flying to his uncle’s shoulders to hold him still. Katara ignored it, but gentled her hold. Repairing what she could not see was almost as difficult as bending the blood that continuously tried to slip from her grasp, but eventually she decided she’d done as much as she could and let the blood flow freely once again. A cursory check revealed that his heart had ceased it’s erratic leaps and shudders and fresh, pink skin now stretched over the wound. Katara slumped forward, her vision blurring and spinning. Zuko’s uncle’s breathing evened and deepened, but he didn’t wake. She lifted a shaking hand to brush hair out of her eyes. “I think that’s as much as I can do right now.”

“He’s not awake,” Zuko said before suddenly getting a good look at her. He frowned, his eyes tracing her features. “Are you okay?”

“I—” she tried to stand but found her legs wouldn’t hold her and she sank back to the floor. “Maybe I need to lie down.”

Without another word, Zuko stood and walked around the pallet his uncle was on and helped her to her feet. He supported her to the only other spare sleeping pallet the small cabin had, then disappeared to fetch the blankets from their packs. She was asleep before he returned.
Katara woke slowly, her body still feeling like lead and her head pounding. It almost felt like she’d drank too much moonshine the night before. She squeezed her eyes shut, releasing a quiet groan as she pressed her face into her pillow. Birds twittered outside and she rolled over, forcing her eyes open. Zuko sat slumped against the wall next to his uncle, mouth hanging open and snoring lightly. She sat up, surprised when a blanket fell from her shoulders and pooled around her waist. She didn’t remember having a blanket when she fell asleep. A quick glance out the only window in the hut revealed the sun well above the horizon. Surprised, she glanced back at the firebender. He was still sleeping soundly and appeared to be in no hurry of waking. She rose quietly, checking on Zuko’s uncle, satisfied that the old man was sleeping peacefully and appeared to be in no pain. Her stomach rumbled and she decided it was time to find food. Zuko, no doubt, would be hungry when he woke and she wanted to have something for the uncle if he felt he could eat. A floorboard creaked under her step and she cringed when Zuko woke with a snort, his hand already reaching for the dao swords before he was even fully awake. Foggy gold eyes looked up at her in sleepy confusion before he blinked and the fog cleared. Seeing her standing there, wincing slightly, he immediately looked at his uncle, hurrying to his feet to check. “Is he all right?”

Katara kept her voice low, motioning for him to follow her out of the hut, “He’ll be fine. He’s sleeping right now.”

He followed her reluctantly. “But he’ll wake up, right?”

She smiled even though the sunlight hurt her eyes. “Yes. He just needs his rest. I’ll have to do another healing, but hopefully it won’t take as much out of me.”

They fell comfortably into their usual morning tasks, Zuko building the cook fire and Katara putting together a meal of rice and jerky. She tsked over their limited supplies. Zuko watched her work as if fascinated by the whole process. Now that the immediate danger was past, Katara allowed her thoughts to drift over the events of the past day and a half. Zuko’s admittance that his uncle’s injury was a result of his sister still came as a shock. Months before, she would have thought Zuko was just like his sister. She gave the contents of the pot a swift stir then sat back on her heels and grinned at him, breaking the silence, “You’re right. Your sister is terrifying. Was she always like that?”

“Yes,” Zuko said without hesitation and then looked abashed. “I mean—no, not really.” He shrugged, picking up a stick and prodding at the fire. “She was just a show-off before.”

Katara tore her eyes from the stick, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Before what?”

The firebender stabbed moodily at the embers before tossing the stick into the flames and folding his arms across his knees. His shoulders hunched and he fell into a melancholy sulk. “Before Mother—after that, she got scary.”

Katara watched him for a moment before checking her cooking one last time and rising to her feet and walking around the fire to take a seat close to Zuko’s side. At first he didn’t seem to notice her presence so she scooted closer, slipping a hand through his arm and leaning against his shoulder. The firebender looked askance at her, but didn’t push her away. She gave his arm a slight squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

Confusion crossed Zuko’s face and he pulled far enough away to look down at her. “What?”

She shrugged, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “My mother’s gone too.”

Silence fell between them and they both watched the fire crackle along the logs. Zuko cleared his throat, leaning back on one hand and turning his gaze toward the sky. “What happened?”

At first she said nothing, the sting of tears in her eyes. She took a moment to push the rush of emotions away, hoping Zuko would say nothing about her tears. With a deep breath, she pulled away from Zuko and focused on a loose thread in her skirt. “She was killed in a Fire Nation raid when I was young. My mother’s necklace was all I had left of her.” She touched her throat where the pendant used to lay against her skin and let her hand fall to her lap, murmuring, “Now that’s gone too.”

Zuko touched the inner pocket of his tunic, glancing at her discretely before pulling an object out. He ran his thumb over the engraved surface, taking in the intricate details, and held it for her to see. “Oh, you mean this?”

A blue slip of cloth dangled in front of her eyes, the pendant familiar even if it took several seconds for it to register. Her fingers rose to touch the stone, her breath catching when the necklace didn’t vanish. Shocked blue eyes met gold. “Where did you get that?”

He almost didn’t want her to take—it’d been with him for so long—but he let it go, watching as she cradled it in the palms of her hands. “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you mean.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I didn’t think you did.” She tied it back around her throat, touching the smooth stone, warmed from Zuko’s pocket. “Thank you.”

He shrugged, blushing lightly as she leaned into him again. “I found it on the Prison Rig.”

“You were there?”

The firebender nodded, lifting an arm to drape across her shoulders. She edged closer, tucking herself against his side. He let his thoughts drift. “They told me the Avatar had escaped.”

Katara rested her head against his shoulder, murmuring, “I did not.”

“They left you.” He glanced down at her. “Why?”

He sounded surprised and Katara shrugged. “They had no choice. The world needs Aang.” She glanced up a him. “Why do you need Aang?”

He pulled away, rising to his feet and pacing to the fire. For several long moments, Zuko poked at the fire, watching sparks shoot up from the embers. His shoulder straightened and her turned to her, fire leaping in his eyes. “I need him to regain my honor.”

Katara looked up at him, a slight frown pulling at her lips. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard him mutter about lost honor and she thought that perhaps he’d be willing to actually talk to her about it. She clasped a fist around the pendant of her necklace. “How did you lose your honor?”

“I—” His fingers touched the scar around his eye before fisting and dropping to his side. He looked away so all she saw was the smooth, unblemished side. “You wouldn’t understand.”

His shoulders slumped and a frown appeared. Her eyes traced his profile, taking in the shadowed gaze and defeated frown. She stood, approaching him and hooking an arm through his, giving it a tight squeeze. “Try to help me understand.”

He sighed, letting his head rest against hers. They stood in comfortable silence together, each gaining comfort from the other’s presence. Katara felt him shift and take a deep breath and she knew he was going to tell her something important. They didn’t hear footsteps approach until the person spoke, “My, what have we here?”

They leapt apart as if burned, Zuko exclaiming, “Uncle!”

Katara tried to keep the blood from rushing to her cheeks and she anxiously smoothed her tunic. Zuko’s uncle stood leaning against the door of the cabin, looking worn but cheerful. He smiled, laughing lightly at their startled reactions. He took a shuffling step out into the sunlight, grimacing slightly and placing a hand over the bandaged wound. Katara hurried forward, helping him the short distance to a bench near the fire. He eased down onto the bench awkwardly, breathing through the pain. She watched anxiously until he opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Now, who do I owe thanks for saving my life?”

Katara blushed. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment.” He frowned as if trying to remember something. “You look familiar, Miss…”

“Katara,” she quickly responded.

He beamed, exclaiming, “What a beautiful name! It suits you well, Miss Katara. I am Iroh, though you may call me Uncle.”

“Thank you,” she said, glancing at Zuko when he made a strangled sound.

Zuko seemed to be recovering from his surprise as color flooded across his cheeks. Iroh grinned. “If I had known you were leaving to find a girl, I would’ve given you some advice. Why, when I was a young captain I would sneak away some nights—”

Zuko sputtered, looking absolutely horrified. Katara retreated toward the cook fire. “I’m going to check on the food.”

Both firebenders watched her hurry away to check her cooking. Iroh turned to face Zuko, smiling congenially. Zuko eyed him suspiciously, his whole posture tense. Iroh shifted, the grimace of pain flashing across his face making Zuko worry. “Uncle—”

“I’m fine, Zuko. It merely stings,” Iroh soothed.

Zuko frowned. “Should you be up?”

The older firebender grunted, but moved onto a different topic. One he was much more interested in. Gesturing towards Katara, he asked, “Nephew, how did you come to be accompanied by this beautiful young woman?”

Zuko stared, unable to form a coherent sentence, his eyes darting from his uncle to Katara. Iroh watched in amusement, enjoying the picture of his serious nephew squirming like a schoolboy. He didn’t miss the flush on Katara’s cheeks either as he goaded Zuko though she tried to pretend she hadn’t heard anything. Katara scooped up two servings of the rice porridge, handing them to Zuko and Iroh. Iroh took the bowl with a smile of thanks, commenting, “She appears to be Water Tribe.” He paused, nudging Zuko with his elbow. “You must compliment her more often if you want her to stay.”

“Uncle!” Zuko shouted, his face blushing a bright red as he fumbled with the bowl.

Katara laughed, returning to the fire to get her own portion before seating herself nearby. Iroh chuckled cheerfully. “My nephew is shy, Miss Katara. You must be patient with him.” He winked at her. “Come, you must tell me all about yourself; how you met my nephew and—”

His words broke off abruptly and his eyes narrowed at her hand. A frown of disapproval landed on Zuko, but he spoke to Katara, “And why you appear to be wearing a slave ring.”

Katara immediately tucked her hand out of sight, ducking her head. Zuko scrambled for an explanation, his words coming out in a rush, “It’s not what you think, Uncle.”

“I don’t know what to think, son.”

The story spilled forth in a torrent of words. Zuko’s time alone, the port town where he found—and purchased—Katara, the Foggy Swamp and the swampbenders, the Plain’s Village and their betrayal, and finally Tu Zin and Katara’s healing. When Zuko’s flood of words ceased, Iroh could only look between the two teenagers in surprise. The meal was long over and Katara had cleaned up their dishes and settled down next to Zuko. Iroh sat back, sighing deeply. “Well.”

He said nothing for several more seconds before motioning for Katara to come closer. “Let me see this ring, Miss.”

Katara held out her hand, watching as Iroh carefully examined the ring, giving it a gentle tug. He stroked his beard in thought before smiling up at her. “Not to worry, Miss Katara, we’ll find a way to remove it. We should probably head to a refugee camp for now.”

Zuko grunted, folding his arms, but Iroh didn’t seem fazed by his nephew’s frown, merely patting Katara’s hand. “We are fortunate to have twice escaped Azula’s grasp with relative ease. I do not think a third time would be as easy.”

The three of them fell into a comfortable rhythm. Iroh spent most of the days resting, the wound in his chest pulling painfully when he moved. Katara did three healings a day, checking for any lingering internal injuries and soothing the deep burn as best she could. She was disappointed she would not be able to heal the wound without a scar, but Iroh had simply laughed, brushing off her concerns and saying, “Scars make a man distinguished. The ladies love them.”

Zuko scoffed at that, drawing his uncle’s attention. Katara caught the twinkle of mischief in Iroh’s eyes as he grinned at his nephew. “To walk through life without a blemish simply means one has not truly lived.” He paused, looking thoughtful. A moment later a serene smiled appeared on his face. “Everyone loves a rebel, is that not so, Miss Katara?”

He gave her an exaggerated wink. Color flooded across Zuko’s cheeks and he quickly made an excuse to leave, desperately ignoring Katara’s giggle. Katara returned to changing Iroh’s bandages and Iroh watched her silently for several minutes. Katara liked Zuko’s uncle. He didn’t have the serious, desperation so often present in Zuko’s expressions and actions. Katara tucked the end of the bandages into place, stepping back to survey her work with a pleased nod. “That should do it for a while. I’d like to look at it again tonight. Are you still feeling pain?”

Iroh pulled on his tunic with far more ease than he’d done in the past few days, patting the seat next to him. “You are far too young to be worrying about such things, my dear.”

Katara’s lips pursed and Iroh laughed. “Don’t give me that look, Miss Katara. I have no complaints about your healing. You have a marvelous ability.”

She flushed under the praise. “Thank you.”

Iroh smiled at her before glancing in the direction Zuko had taken. “I hope you have enough food in your pack to feed all of us. Zuko’s previous hunting attempts rarely had desirable results.”

He caught her look of surprise and lifted an enquiring eyebrow. “Oh, it’s just that the Swamp Tribe took Zuko hunting and trapping while I was learning waterbending. I’m sure he’ll find something.”

“Good,” Iroh said, looking pleased. “I must say, I have never seen my nephew so at ease with himself.”

“Was he always so,” she trailed off uncertainly, gesturing vaguely as she tried to finish her sentence, and Iroh laughed.

“No. He was much like any other young boy. Full of hopes and dreams. He has a lot of his mother in him.” He leveled Katara with a look. “That is a good thing, I think.”

She smiled, leaning back to gaze up at the sky as she tried to picture a young Zuko. A giggle escaped as she imaged the serious firebender getting into the kind of mischief her brother seemed to have a knack for finding. “What was she like? The Fire Lady?”

“Ah, how curious,” Iroh mused. “You know our secret. Where are you from, Miss Katara?”

Thrown by the sudden question, it took a moment for her to respond, “The Southern Water Tribe.”

A look of surprise and then deep sadness cross his weathered face. He considered her for a long, silent moment before he released a weary sigh. “I did not think there were any waterbenders…in the Southern Tribes.”

Katara looked away, gently touching her necklace. She was grateful to have the necklace back and was glad that Zuko had kept it all this time. She wondered why. “I am the only one. The others were taken when I was very young.”

Iroh let a moment pass in respectful silence, folding his arms into his sleeves and closing his eyes. When Katara said no more, Iroh mused quietly, “Sounds like a legend. The Exile and the Last Waterbender.”

“What?”

Iroh chuckled at the look of confusion on her face. “Would you prefer it: The Last Waterbender and the Exile?”

Her brow furrowed. “Exile?”

Instead of answering, Iroh veered back to her original question. “The Lady Ursa was a quiet, gentle woman though there was a strength about her that no one could deny. The court life was difficult for her. Many in the court are like the white jade bush.” He paused to see if Katara was still listening. “The white jade bush looks like the white dragon bush except it is poisonous. Lady Ursa’s kindness made her an ideal Fire Lady, but it was the same kindness that too many tried to destroy and alas, she never got the opportunity to guide my brother.

“She loved her children. Her pregnancy with Zuko was a difficult one and his birth nearly killed them both. It was fortunate that one of the,” he paused and Katara got the distinct impression that he was uncomfortable. “One of the servants was a waterbender—from the Northern Tribes—and she managed to save both Lady Ursa and Zuko. Both of them were sickly for weeks. Zuko more than Lady Ursa. The Fire Sages didn’t believe he would live a month.

“Ozai detested the child. Dismissing Zuko as weak even then. Azula’s birth two years later was everything Zuko’s was not. Lady Ursa loved both her children and would do anything for them, but Azula is very much her father’s daughter.”

He fell silent and Katara mulled over his words. “What happened to her?”

Iroh heaved a tired sigh. “I cannot say. When I returned, my brother had taken my place on the throne and the Lady Ursa was gone. I’d heard rumors of betrayal and murder but no one would speak of it directly. My brother is not a kind man.”

They were interrupted by Zuko stumbling out of the woods holding some kind of rabbit in one hand. He righted himself quickly when he saw them watching. Iroh chuckled quietly, whispering to Katara, “He’s never been the most coordinated of the family.”

A sneeze drew their attention back to Zuko and Katara half rose out of her seat. “Is he all right?”

“I suspect it was because we were talking about him.”

Iroh watched his nephew work for a moment longer before sighing and carefully rising to his feet. He smiled at Katara’s look of concern. “I feel I should rest some.” He paused, putting a hand on her shoulder. “My nephew is lucky to have found you. Be patient with him.”

Iroh slowly made his way back into the cabin and Katara rose and approached Zuko. He glanced up at her quickly, cheeks flushing under her gaze before swiftly moving back to his kill. She helped move away the trimmings and neatly pile the carved portions on a clean stone. They worked quietly until Katara broke the silence; “Did you have trouble?”

She motioned to the rabbit when he looked at her curiously. He shook his head. “No. I was thinking.”

“Oh. Deep thoughts?”

Zuko glanced at the cabin. “Is he all right?”

She nodded. “He’s just resting. It’ll take a while before he’s back to full health.”

He nodded his acceptance, muffling a quiet cough. Katara frowned at him, leaning forward and putting a hand against his head. He flinched back immediately, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Are you sick, Zuko?”

The firebender snorted, only to sniffle afterward and thereby ruin the effect. “No. I’m fine.”
“You would tell me if you were feeling bad, right?”

Zuko ignored the question, instead sitting back on his heels and awkwardly brushing sweat from his face with his arm. “Do you think he’ll be able to teach me firebending?”

“Your uncle knows more about his limits than I do. You have to ask him.”