Chapter Two: Family
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Katara
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Katara had been in the middle of changing Aang's bandages when her father entered the sickroom. She glanced over at the sound of the door opening, and then rapidly turned back to Aang.
"What are you doing here?" she asked crossly. She didn't need his help, least of all when it came to healing.
“I came to see how you were doing,” he said.
“I’m fine,” said Katara. “You can go now.”
“Katara…”
“I’m fine. I’ve been fine for two years. Why would I need you now?”
“Katara…”
“I haven’t needed you for a long time now, and you haven’t needed me or my help. Ever. You think Sokka was the only one who wanted to come with you, who wanted to help you? I wanted to go as badly as he did. I wanted to help my people!” Katara was struggling to keep her voice low. It wouldn’t do to disturb Aang.
“Katara, you never said -”
“Of course I didn’t. I knew you wouldn’t have let me come. I would have been useless!” She lost her control on the last word, and it came out a yell. Katara stood and looked directly into her father’s eyes. “You can’t deny it,” she said, deadly quiet.
Hakoda took a deep breath, then walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.
“I’m not going to deny that you were hardly a hardened warrior, Katara. You didn’t even have the training your brother had. You’d never showed any interest in it, so I let you keep mostly to a traditional girl’s education. So, no, you wouldn’t have been useless, but you would have been less valuable than the other members of the crew –”
“How can you say that?!”
“- from a the perspective of a chief. As your father, there will never, ever be anyone or anything more important to me than you and your brother. That was my reason, as a father, for keeping you at home where you’d be safe. I also had a reason as a chief.”
“What?” said Katara, through gritted teeth. She was nearly shaking from all the emotion she'd been keeping bottled up.
“You and Sokka both have, and have always had, incredible potential. Sokka has always shown abilities as a leader, and even two years ago, he wasn’t bad with a boomerang.”
“And me? The waterbending?”
“That, and more. You are an incredibly caring person, Katara, though you do occasionally let your temper get the better of you. When you let yourself, you see the good and the humanity in everyone. You bring people together, and hold them together. You are an amazing young woman, but looking at you two years ago, I could see that you needed time to grow. And you have.”
Katara looked up at her father, then let out a single sob and threw her arms around him.
“I missed you so much, Dad…”
“I know, sweetie. I know.”
_-_-_-_
Aang
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Aang woke up to the smell of onion and banana juice.
“Drink this,” said the voice of Guru Pahtik, and Aang unthinkingly obeyed. It took a few moments for his taste buds to process the information they were receiving. When they did, Aang started gagging.
“Your young waterbender friend will be back soon, but first we must talk.”
Aang waited for the tightening in his stomach that the mention of Katara usually brought. It didn’t come.
“I feel… different,” said Aang.
The guru nodded, cleaning the onion and banana juice Aang had coughed up onto his front with a damp cloth.
“You have had an awakening, my young friend: a perspective and worldview altering experience.”
“I let go,” said Aang.
“Yes.”
“It all seems so… so…”
“Distant? Insignificant? Amusing?”
“Uh, yeah. I mean, I was obsessed over little things, and I was so attached to things and people who won’t last,” said Aang. The guru’s face twisted slightly on the last sentence.
“Then you have opened your thought chakra,” said Pahtik, his face calm once more, “and are halfway to becoming a fully realized avatar. Congratulations!”
Aang stared at him. “What do you mean ‘half way?’ I thought you said – ”
“I lied,” said the guru, smiling sadly. “It was a necessary deception. There is a second step, one you must discover for yourself. I will be here to help you prepare for the time when you have taken that step, but I cannot reveal to you what it is.”
“So it’s all up to me,” said Aang. He felt like should be angry, but instead he was just sad.
The guru squeezed his shoulder. “It is as it has always been.” Then he walked out of the room, leaving Aang alone.
_-_-_-_
Katara came in soon after Guru Pahtik left.
“Hey,” said Aang.
“Hey,” Katara echoed softly.
“We lost Ba Sing Se, didn’t we?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We left Jet behind to try to mount a resistance, and to try to keep attention there. I know it’s a gamble, but I really think he’s changed. Also, without the Earth King’s armies, we’ll have to rely on personal allies.” She smiled. “Luckily, we have lots of those.”
He didn’t smile back, and Katara’s expression faltered. “Aang?”
“There’s something I need to tell you,” said Aang. “I- I had feelings for you. Really, really strong feelings. I’ve let go of them though. I had to, to master the avatar state. I had to let go of all earthly attachments.”
“Aang…” she stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off.
“Goodbye, Katara.”
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Li
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Li’s first mission for the Resistance was to, in Jet’s words, “Steal some damn clothes for everyone. I’m sick of looking at prison uniforms, and they’re way too conspicuous.”
So, on his third night outside of Lake Laogai, Li paid a visit to a farmhouse just outside there latest forest camp. Jet had given him a dagger – his very first possession – and when he reached the likely looking farmhouse he used the point of it to pick the simple lock with out really trying, or thinking. He slipped in and out, silent and quick as a spirit, and was back at camp and shaking Jet’s shoulder about an hour after he left.
“Jet, wake up,” he whispered.
“Already?” said Jet, who was completely awake almost immediately.
Li nodded.
“Well, let’s see what you got,” said Jet, lighting a small lantern. The flame caught Li’s eye and he turned to look at it. The way it moved was entrancing.
Jet snapped his fingers in his face. “Hey, I know you’re tired, but I need you to stay with me, okay?”
Li tore his eyes away from the lantern and nodded. He pulled over the bundle of clothes he had assembled.
“Twenty-one people is too many,” he said. “I can’t carry so much and be quiet. I got twelve sets, though.” He was frustrated. He hadn’t been able to do what Jet said.
“It’s fine,” said Jet, going through the mixed articles of clothing. “This was more a test of your skills than anything else.”
“Did I pass?” asked Li earnestly. He wanted Jet’s approval very badly.
Jet grinned, the lantern’s light flickering across his features. “Definitely. Good job, Li.” He reached out and ruffled the other boy’s messy hair. “You oughta tie some of that mop back, you know. It’s getting longer than mine. Anyway, I’ll have Smellebee get clothes for everyone else. Go get some rest.”
Li smiled. Jet was proud of him.
XXXX
They reached the walls of Ba Sing Se two days later. Jet explained to Li that they had taken a long route and gone slow so the new recruits’ atrophied muscles could be built up. Li hadn’t really been listening. He was too busy staring at the walls. They were huge, taller than the tallest trees in the forest, which were the tallest things he had ever seen. When he had first seen the walls on the horizon, he had thought they were some sort of natural phenomenon. He had been completely speechless when they got close enough to really see them.
Jet and the veteran Freedom Fighters were talking to the other new recruits about how they needed to enter the city in small groups to avoid attracting attention, and telling them how to find the abandoned warehouse where they would be meeting. Li didn’t have to listen, Jet said. Li was coming with him, to his apartment. He said that Li needed extra help, because of what the Dai Li did to him, so he should stay with him. The other prisoners might not be sure they had their memories, but they had the skills to blend in with normal people. He had explained that Li should pretend he couldn’t talk when they went through the checkpoint, because if he said something wrong he might give them away. Jet was going to pretend Li was his cousin. Li liked that idea. Having a family, even a pretend one, sounded nice. Secure.
Jet had finished talking to the others. He came over to Li. “Time to go, Li,” he said.
Li touched his scar, then tugged on the short ponytail he had taken to wearing at the nape of his neck. Locks of hair were always escaping and getting in his eyes, but he still wore it. Jet had said it was a good idea. It had become something of a talisman for him, just as his scar had. The scar reminded him what had been done to him, and the ponytail reminded him who had saved him, who he owed his life to, who his people were. He stood up and followed Jet.
_-_-_-_
“Names?” barked the guard at the small refugee gate that Li and the five veterans were passing.
“Jet,” said Jet. “My roommates Longshot, Smellerbee, Pipsqueak and the Duke, and my cousin Li, from near the Outer Wall.”
The guard looked them all over. Li, glanced around nervously – he had never seen so many people! – caught his eye.
“What’s with him?” asked the guard suspiciously.
“Li’s not exactly all there,” said Jet conspiratorially, taking the guard by the arm and whispering in his ear. “Childhood head injury.”
“Alright,” said the guard. “Make sure you keep an eye on him.”
“I will,” said Jet. He took the still gaping Li by the arm and headed into the city.
_-_-_-_
.Ba Sing Se was crowded. By the time they got to Jet’s apartment, Li was just about ready to hide in the corner. He probably would have, if Longshot hadn’t looked very pointedly at him and then at the teapot.
Li made tea while Jet and the others talked about training the new recruits. Li zoned out, losing himself in the motions of making tea. He found the process comforting. He served it to the veteran Freedom Fighters, then went back to the kitchen nook and stared out the window at the city. The window faced a gap between two buildings, and he could see for a long way.
“Hey Li, come here,” called Jet. Li came over and sat down behind the Duke, since there was no room left for him at the low table. “Li, who taught you how to make tea?”
Li blinked. “I don’t- I just know.”
Jet nodded, as if Li had confirmed something to him. “And if I had asked you to make tea before you did it could you have told me how?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Jet nodded again. “There. You see, Longshot? He’ll be ready for action as soon as we get those swords back in his hands.” He stood up. “Now, I’m going back to Li’s old apartment. I’ll see if his stuff is still there. Smellerbee, Longshot, Pipsqueak, head to the warehouse. Make sure everyone is settling in okay. The Duke, you can go with them if you want.” He started heading for the door and Li stood to follow him. Jet looked back. “Uh, it’d probably be best if you stay here, Li. Your neighbors might notice that you’ve, er, changed a bit. We don’t want them to start asking questions.”
Li nodded. He was disappointed, but Jet had explained to him on the march to the city that the Dai Li would probably be looking for them.
“I’ll stay with him,” said the Duke. Jet nodded his approval and left. A few minutes later, Li and the Duke had the apartment to themselves.
“So…” said the Duke, “do you know how to play the pickle game?”
“I- I don’t know,” stammered Li. He had gotten used to Jet by now, but talking to other people, having actual conversations with them, was a new experience.
“Okay,” said the Duke, pulling a deck of cards out of a drawer. “I’ll teach you.”
_-_-_-_
Jet returned before any of the others, almost empty handed.
“Sorry Li,” he said. “After you and your uncle had been missing for a week, the landlord pawned most of your stuff. The only thing left was this dagger. No legal market for weapons in the lower ring.
He tossed Li a dagger, obviously of Earth Kingdom make and of high quality. Li cautiously unsheathed it, wanting to examine the blade. There was an inscription: “Never give up without a fight,” he read aloud.
“Never give up, period,” countered Jet. “Now come on you two. Let’s head to the warehouse.”
_-_-_-_
Li liked the warehouse. It was big, and empty except for the small area that was housing the other new recruits. When they got there, Jet conferred with his original gang for a while, then they got the recruits into a line and started passing out poles and sticks – practice weapons. Jet would put each new recruit through a series of different motions with different length pieces of wood, then hand them the one he thought suited them best. When he got to Li, he just smiled an handed him two medium lengths of wood.
“Form up into groups with the others who have the same practice weapons,” Jet called out. Smellerbee and Pipsqueak are going to show you how to use them. Li!” Li, who had been watching a Pai Sho game going on between several of the Freedom Fighters who were neither new recruits nor old timers, snapped to attention. A few of the other recruits laughed quietly. Jet raised an eyebrow. “You’re not in the army Li, no need for that. Now come here. I want to see if we can get you wielding those like you did the first time I saw you.”
Five minutes later, the two Freedom Fighters were sitting next to one another, bruised and breathing hard but grinning.
“You’re gonna do fine, Li,” said Jet. “You’re gonna do fine. We’ll find you a pair of real ones tomorrow. I know a guy who should have something in stock.”
_-_-_-_
The “guy” was Ishi, a tall, massively fat man with a huge mole on his forehead and a prospering rickshaw business. Li had never seen anyone as large. He couldn’t stop staring at the man, despite the glares it got him.
“Your friend isn’t very polite,” remarked Ishi, leading Li and Jet through a door hidden behind a scroll rack in his office. Li felt his face redden.
“Li had a head injury recently,” said Jet, putting his hand on his companion’s shoulder. “It really shook him up.”
Ishi grunted noncommittally as he led the two young men into a small room filled to the brim with racks of various weapons. “Here,” he said, pulling out a pair of dual broadswords. “Try these out.”
Li took the proffered weapons and tired them out as best he could in the limited space, the appropriate motions coming to him as if emerging from a fog. He moved through slashes and parries, using the swords as if they were one weapon.
“They’re good,” he said. Usually he would have been shy, talking to someone he didn’t know, someone who wasn’t a Freedom Fighter, but holding the swords, going through motions that were so familiar, he felt confident, powerful, like a different person than the timid, skittish boy that Jet had freed from the Dai Li.
“We’ll take them,” said Jet.
_-_-_-_
Li woke up in the middle of the night that night, and no matter how much he tossed and turned in his sleeping bag (Jet said he could have a real mattress later that week.), he couldn’t get back to sleep. He ended up on the roof with his new swords, going through forms to find out how many he knew.
He stayed up there, moving, thinking, until Jet found him that morning, holding his knees to his chest and staring at the rising sun. He was thinking about where he had come from, how little he knew about himself. Did he have parents? Siblings? Where had he learned to fight?
“I want to know more about who I am,” he told Jet. “I want to find my uncle.”
