Chapter 14: Silver
Can you see the moon tonight?
The silver drops of stars?
They are the tears of loss, my child,
Of loss and grief and scars.
Yet see how still she shines so bright?
And gifts us with her glow?
That is the look of strength, my child,
Of hope for friends, not foes.
The river murmured comfortingly next to her as Katara shaded her eyes in the afternoon sun. The glare of light off the water was unbearably bright, but strangely comforting as she moved her heavy braid slowly to one shoulder. Wincing, she reached back blindly to the dull throbbing at the base of her skull, closing her eyes in mute relief when her glowing water finally made contact.
She sat there for a while, concentrating on focusing her energies in the awkward position. As the ache finally began to recede, she exhaled and brought her bruised shoulder back down again. The water shimmering through her fingers lost its glow, and she saw dull wisps of iron-red as she streamed it back into the river.
Katara frowned and stood up shakily, checking herself meticulously once again to make sure she hadn’t missed anything important. When her search yielded nothing more than her shoulder, she healed that too and then settled back down against the river bank.
Well.
Eyes half-closed, the waterbender recounted the day’s battles in her mind, and then those of the afternoon before. There had been four attacks in the short span of those few hours, and at all but one she had arrived too late to save the village itself. Katara’s fists clenched unconsciously in the folds of the purple dress.
Whoever these people were, they were frighteningly efficient and well-prepared. And what was even more frightening was that they were competent. The back of her head twinged in memory at one of their lucky shots, and Katara’s mouth turned downward again. She’d travelled long enough now to know the value of a stupid enemy.
Still, clever or no, even a contingent of them was just an intriguing challenge for a waterbending master with a river at her back. Katara’s lips lifted again into a weary smile as she dipped her toes into the water. The ripples spread out softly, pushing gently against the current. I just have to be more careful, she decided firmly.
The sudden picture of the man on the heap of broken things crawled into her mind. Her eyes narrowed. And more wary. She had no doubt that something more than just a few random attacks was afoot. At each and every site, she’d been greeted with the same sickening chant. The one which spat poison in the air and coiled around her heart like a vice. The one which had forced her to wonder after each fight whether it was a message to get back. To warn Zuko. To warn Aang. To warn everyone that what they’d fought for was already fracturing.
But then the soft pulse of determination which had replaced the tight, painful clutches of uncertainty had resurfaced. And now as Katara trailed her fingers in the river, she felt the surety of it sweep through her like the ocean. She had nothing yet. Nothing but words and worries and the few isolated faces of people she was sure were soldiers.
And besides, if she left now not that she wanted to, she was still relishing this heady taste of freedom and the feeling of the future running in her veins then who would protect the villages? No. She’d stay until she knew exactly what was happening, exactly why these people were turning against their own countrymen and declaiming their rightful Fire Lord.
“We will not back down for the Avatar’s lackey! We will never bow to the traitor Prince!”
Katara’s eyes hardened. They’d been well trained enough to retreat from her the last few times, leaving her with the blackened husks of homes and small crowds of terrified Fire Nation villagers who had burns and bruises which needed to be treated. She shook her head. She wished she could have healed the scars too...
The image of golden eyes rose in her mind for a brief moment, and then they closed. Slowly, she remembered laying her fingers down his cheek, cupping the roughened tissue and tracing the maze of hardship and hatred that had led them to this moment, this frozen moment amongst the crystals and the rock...
The thought trailed off as Katara suddenly became aware of a distant throbbing in the water. Her eyes snapped fully open as she plunged her hands down to the elbows, feeling the currents swirling at her ankles and stretching her consciousness out like the thin mist in the Spirit World...
There. She could almost taste it, the sharp-sliced ripples of three small metallic prows cutting through the water at least two miles downstream. And despite the exhaustion weighing down her bones, Katara straightened with a cold smile.
And five seconds later, the slim figure of the Painted Lady was lost in an ethereal cloud of fog.
8 8 8
If Sokka had to be honest with himself, there was only so much lazing around he could take.
Fine, fine. Right after the comet, he’d been completely ready to do nothing but eat, sleep, and snuggle with Suki. Surely after everything he’d deserved it. And there was the matter of his broken leg too, he’d practically been ordered by everyone around him to rest. Still, now that the haze of victory had died away a little and they were left with the rush and chaos of the forthcoming peace summit, he was beginning to feel jittery. Like he needed to do something. Every night Zuko slid into the chair at dinner looking more and more exhausted, the crown pinned at the top of his head weighing him down so much he barely had the energy to get annoyed when Sokka prodded him.
And that would just not do. Because when the jerkbender didn’t even blink at “Oh yeah, Suki and I spent the day tearing down the East wing of your fancy palace”, something had to be done.
So here he was, eyeing the door to Zuko’s chamber. Sequestered off to the left of the throne room, the entrance was one of the few formal ones in the palace that wasn’t blocked by material. Instead, the solidity of the door was a symbol to all those coming to seek court with the Fire Lord that he was busy or meeting with private guests.
Which, of course, was just why Sokka shrugged and pushed it open without a second thought.
The Fire Lord’s chamber was small by palace standards, but still large enough to dwarf even the communal tent Sokka remembered at home. He found Zuko’s form immediately, hunched over a large desk groaning with files. The way the room was set up, the Fire Lord’s chair sat close to the wall and to a second exit at the left, a system practical and paranoid enough to make Sokka roll his eyes.
“Hey Zuko,” he called out cheerfully.
The Fire Lord jerked, almost knocking over the tepid cup of tea next to him. He was up on his feet in an instant, settling into a firebending pose just before he realised exactly who his visitor was. There was a moment of surprise, and then he snorted and sat back down again. “What are you doing here?”
Sokka shook his head in mock disapproval and limped over. “Gee. No ‘how are you?’ or ‘nice to grace me with your awesome presence’? Where’re your manners?”
Zuko rolled his eyes tiredly and picked up his papers again. “Nothing important, then?” he asked dryly.
Sokka sank into the chair opposite the desk and grinned. “Does everything have to be of earth-shattering magnitude? Can’t I just drop by and wonder what’s been going with you?"
Zuko’s eyebrow arched. “What, you mean you’re taking up my offer to help read paperwork? Thanks Sokka. I never knew I had such a good friend.”
“Ha ha, “ Sokka screwed up his nose. “But seriously. What’s up?”
Zuko interlaced his fingers. “Really? Far too much. I have no clue who to trust besides you guys, Shen Li, and perhaps my Chief Advisor. And besides the trouble in the Fire Nation, we’re starting to get messengers back from the other lands about the peace conference...” a sudden thought struck him, and he seemed to straighten up. “Actually maybe you could help me. Do you know the Chief of the Northern Water Tribes?”
Sokka’s ears pricked. “Chief Arnook? Yeah, I know him. Why?”
“We’ve been having... difficulties with him,” Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “Him alone actually. It’s strange. From what I can decipher from King Bumi’s letter, he’s all set to come when he’s settled his people back into his city. King Kuei still hasn’t been found yet, but we’ve had the peace overtures from Ba Sing Se.We still haven’t heard back from the Chief of the Southern Tribes either...” Zuko pulled a face. “Okay, fine. Perhaps it’s not just Chief Arnook.”
Sokka laughed. “Kuei’ll be fine. He knows us and Aang, so we shouldn’t have too many problems on his side. As for the Chief of the Southern Tribes, you were probably looking in the wrong place.”
He paused, and then a shadow of worry fell across his features. “Come to think of it, Dad should have heard by now that the war’s over, wherever they are. Maybe I should go look for them.”
It took Zuko over three seconds to put it together. And then his eyes opened comically wide. “Wait! The Chief of the Southern Tribes is your father?”
“Yup,” Sokka shrugged, looking at him curiously. “What, didn’t we ever tell you?”
“No! No, no-one ever told me! Agni...” Zuko felt a rush of blood hit his cheeks. “And all those times I called Katara a peasant...”
Sokka took a brief moment to remember, and then he doubled over laughing. “Aw man,” he chuckled. “That’s right. You always did act a bit hoity-toity, didn’t you your highness?”
The burn reached the tips of his ears. “Oh shut up,” Zuko muttered. “You sure as hell don’t look like you’re a prince.” His eyes grew thoughtful. “Katara, on the other hand...”
Sokka didn’t seem to have heard him. “Hey,” he straightened up indignantly, as far as the cast would let him. “I’ll have you know that I can look royal too, thank you very much.”
Zuko looked at him. Sokka self-consciously tugged his tunic into a semblance of smoothness.
“Right then,” Zuko said ironically. “Well, your highness, what can you tell me about Chief Arnook?”
Instantly, a contemplative look slipped over the other’s face, and Zuko had to blink in surprise. “Well, he’s a father too, actually. He had a daughter. Yue.”
Zuko was about to demand he get to the point when he recognised the quiet yearning on his friend’s features. Instantly, he softened. “Your girlfriend?”
Sokka gave him a lopsided smile. “Yeah, actually. The one who turned into the moon.”
Zuko nodded, remembering. “How did that happen, anyway? No one ever told me.”
He regretted the casual words the instant they came out of his mouth when he saw the pain cross over Sokka’s face. “It was Zhao,” the water tribe warrior said softly. “Zhao killed the mortal form of the moon, Tui. And then Yue sacrificed herself to become the moon spirit.”
Zuko frowned. There were so many questions there left unanswered that he wanted to ask more, but one glance at his friend told him that this was neither the time nor person to ask further. “She sounds brave.”
“She was,” Sokka bowed his head a little.
There was quiet for a moment, a perfect stillness that only seemed natural in the face of such pain. It was only when Sokka shifted again, turning away to surreptitiously wipe at dry eyes, that Zuko spoke.
“Do you think that’s why Chief Arnook is being... difficult?”
Sokka straightened, business settling onto his shoulders once again. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” he nodded. “Although we’ve still got something we can use. Your Uncle was there when it happened. He even threatened Zhao and attacked Zhao’s soldiers when...”
He fell silent, not needing to speak the words. Zuko’s heart reached out to him even as his mind whirred. Uncle... “So that’s why they called him a traitor,” he muttered. “I... I always thought it was because...”
He took a breath, not wanting to go back to the sharp brutality of those days. “Actually, we may have something more than that. I fought Zhao before he died. People must have seen it, we fought in the middle of the city. I... Yue has been avenged.”
Sokka’s gaze widened, and then suddenly they took on a dreadful intensity. Blindly, he leaned forwards and gripped the edge of the desk in front of him to steady himself. “You killed Zhao?” he whispered..
Zuko shook his head. “No. We fought, but then the Ocean spirit took him.”
There was a breath, and then the darkness in Sokka’s eyes drained slowly away. “La,” he said quietly, sitting back. “La.”
Zuko fumbled with his hands in the stillness. What could he say? I know how you feel. My girlfriend just broke up with me for good. But meaningful words wouldn’t come. Mai was still alive, even if she wasn’t his. He remembered her cryptic farewell and pondered. Or at least, she wasn’t his in the sense that they had been. Zuko knew without a doubt from their conversation and the look in her eyes that they would never be together again as partners, equals. But then...
As he glanced at Sokka’s face, saw the ocean’s depth of feeling wash over him like a tide, he wondered whether that had ever been the case.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice rough. “I’m sorry.”
Sokka’s head snapped up. His eyes were rimmed with loss, the unspoken pain growling deep in his throat. “Don’t,” the warrior responded fiercely. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Zuko didn’t flinch, the empathy and the yearning in his own eyes unwavering. “I know. But still.”
And at that, they shared a look between them that bridged worlds; two young men who had spent a lifetime building defenses around their hearts. Yet for the space of those precious seconds, their matched gold and blue gazes were soft and unguarded, the truth in them transcending their budding friendship to become something rare and solid.
Sokka smiled crookedly.
“Thanks, buddy.”
Zuko inclined his head. “You’re welcome.”
There was a companionable rustle as Sokka slumped back down in his chair and Zuko self-consciously turned back to his paper. His eyes fell on the blur of tiny characters without really seeing them. He wanted to ask so much. He wanted to ask how Sokka had found Suki, how they had forged their relationship over such loss. He wanted to ask how Sokka had built this different kind of love, a love no less strong, but clearly different in the surety of their smiles and the playful sparring between them. He had never known Yue, but he saw that the water tribe warrior in front of him had something unique in both of his relationships - some unreserved feeling that transcended words.
Perhaps it was because he was still hurting over Mai. Perhaps it was because he was still confused over Mai, and what exactly her promise had meant. But Zuko saw a glimpse of possibilities through Sokka’s face of a love that would never wane on either side, that was more than whispered nothings and silencing kisses.
And he wanted it.
Zuko’s musings were broken by double knock. Instantly, he was the Fire Lord again, his eyes alert from where they’d been lost in yearning. “Come in!” he called, recognising the code.
There was a pause, and then the door opened. Almost by instinct, Sokka stumbled to his feet, gripping his crutch as he swung around to meet the startled eyes of a Fire Nation messenger. Gaping, he looked back at Zuko’s unruffled features, the facade of the ruler smoothed over his face again.
“Uh, Zuko? Expecting something?”
Zuko’s shoulders moved in a barely perceptible shrug. “You have something to report?” he asked the man.
The Fire Nation messenger hesitated, his eyes slanting to Sokka with uncertainty. Then he seemed to come to a decision, stepping around the table and leaning down to the Fire Lord’s ear. Sokka’s eyes narrowed as he heard the faint murmur of words. And then Zuko’s gaze widened, and he turned back to his friend with the tiniest hint of a smile.
“What’s up?” Sokka asked suspiciously, falling back into his protective guise with barely a ripple. “Why are you grinning like that? Stop it! It’s unnatural.”
Zuko’s smile only broadened. “Surprise, Sokka.”
“What?” he demanded. That was it. Zuko had gone crazy. “What are you talking...”
His voice was cut off by the sound of the door opening again. A man walked in, tall and proud and still in his red prison garb. But the hint of blue threaded in his hair was unmistakable, and Sokka felt his heart constrict once in his chest and then burst out with joy.
“DAD!” Sokka yelled. And then his crutch slipped and he fell over.
8 8 8
Kama didn’t know what to expect. It had been over thirty years since she’d dined with royalty, and even then she wasn’t sure whether that experience really counted. Hierarchy was relaxed in the Southern Water Tribes, its importance overshadowed by family and friends for all but the most formal occasions. Even the Chieftain’s children were never called ‘prince’ or ‘princess’. They were just sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews, and that was the way that everyone had been comfortable with.
And so she checked herself nervously in the mirror again, her fingers flitting first to flatten the collar at her neck and then to smooth down the rest of her. She’d rummaged through the chest at least three times before she’d found the most suitable outfit. And now she looked at herself, ignoring the greying hair, the wrinkles and the bony protrusions to focus on the swirling blue and silver of the dress tunic. Below, a darker shade of blue swathed her legs, and the capstone of it all were the blue beads threaded through her fringe on the left side, hanging down just below her sapphire eyes.
Kama had to hide a smile. It was different, certainly. For one, the style was similar to what she remembered, but with enough edges to remind her of the disparities. Furthermore, despite her entire wardrobe being blue, it was clear that some of the pieces had been quickly dyed in preparation for them, and this was admittedly one of them. She brushed her fingers over the material, little doubt in her mind as to what the original colours had been. Still, she couldn’t help but marvel at the mere thought behind the attempts.
The Fire Nation were a hot, raging, destructive race of peoples. She never would have believed that any of them could be thoughtful.
“You done preening yet?”
Kama spun around to see her sister, similarly bedecked in cerulean robes and shoes. She smiled for real, ignoring the sarcasm for what it was. “Kata, you look beautiful.”
For a moment, Kata stared down at herself, the softness of the material and the smooth shimmer of the colour. And then she caught a glance of her face in the mirror and scowled. “We both look like skeletons.”
Kama’s smile faltered for a moment, but then fastened on again, resolute. The last day had been rejuvenating for them, to say the least. To sleep once more on something beside stone and metal had been heavenly beyond belief. To walk in the gardens and talk with her sister as loudly as she wanted to had been freeing beyond her imagination. And to take a bath unchained and by herself again...
Kama set her shoulders with a huff. She was determined that nothing, not even her sibling’s rancour or dinner with the Fire Lord, would spoil it.
“Well then, at least we have an excuse for eating lots of food tonight,” she said.
Kata opened her mouth, no doubt ready to repudiate even that, but whatever she was about to say was cut off by a confident rap on the door. Kama immediately turned to open it, her fixed smile becoming real again at the sight of the Water tribe boy from yesterday. Quietly, she let out a breath of relief. Despite knowing that the war was over now, and knowing that things were different, she wasn’t sure what she would have done if Fire Nation guards had been sent to escort them instead.
“You two ready?” the boy asked cheerfully.
What was his name again? Ah... Sokka. “Yes, I think so,” she bobbed her head. “Kata?”
There was a brief pause. “Right behind you.”
The three of them swept out into the hall, as well as two weakened former prisoners of war and a boy with crutches could sweep. As they left the haven of their room, however, the two sisters were overwhelmed once more by the sheer expanse of the palace: the hardness, the redness and the gold. Taking a deep breath, Kata clutched Kama’s elbow and tried to focus on Sokka’s lighthearted chatter.
“And let me tell you one thing, Zuko knows how to put on a good feast. You should see the dining hall, it looks great! And I heard we’re going to have six courses, not even including dessert!”
She marveled at his blitheness, even while his broken leg was mute proof of his involvement in the soul-deadening war. But still, he moved like he was bounding across the tundra, all smiles and laughs. She struggled to keep up with his words as she tried to make sense of it all. “We’re going to be in one of his private chambers, so it won’t be too big, though. Just us, Zuko, Suki and my Dad. You remember Suki, right? Oh, but you haven’t met my Dad. He arrived today, actually. You’ll love him, don’t worry. He’s from the Southern Water Tribes too!”
Kama surged forwards eagerly. “He is? Oh, what’s his name?”
“Hakoda,” Sokka cocked his head. “You know him?”
“Hakoda?” her mind went blank for a moment, and then slowly, the image of a chubby five-year old swam up through her memory. “Oh La, Hakoda’s your father?”
A pleased look crossed his face. “You knew him?”
She laughed giddily. “I helped babysit him! Oh...” her eyes went wide. “That means you’re the chief’s son.”
“Yup,” he grinned proudly. “I’ve got a sister, too. Katara.” Here, his grin faltered, but then he shook his head and ploughed on. “She’s a waterbender too, actually. And don’t tell her I said this, but she’s incredible. She was the one who found Aang, the Avatar.”
Kama’s eyes shone. “The Avatar?”
For a moment, the hope in her voice reminded Sokka so much of his own sister that he paused. “Yeah,” he said, and then puffed up his chest again. “We all kinda helped him defeat the Fire Lord.”
Kata said nothing, but she could feel Kama practically bursting with excitement besides her. “Can you imagine, a Southern Water Tribe Waterbender helping to end the war...” Kama marvelled. “I’d like to meet her.”
Sokka didn’t halt this time. “Hopefully you will,” he said. “She’s... not here at the moment, but I’m pretty sure she’ll come back here when she’s ready. Maybe if you’re still around the palace, you can meet her,” he turned to give her a measuring look. “You know, I think you two might actually get along.”
“Wonderful,” Kama said delightedly, and Kata was about to make a comment about living that long first when she realised that they had reached their destination.
The curtain swished softly to one side, revealing a large table with the candles and places already set. Sokka swung into the room like he owned it, collapsing happily next to the Kyoshi warrior they’d seen with him the other day. She smiled at them, rising. Kata let her eyes sweep over the rest of the room, a bitter taste of uncertainty in her mouth. She wasn’t sure what to expect from tonight, and that made her edgy.
Yet next to her, her sister moved forwards eagerly. Kata shook her head but didn’t manage to repress the softness of her smile. If Kama was determined to be happy, who was she to quash it? She would just have to be careful for the both of them.
At that, they both took their seats, Kata noting with surprise that the young Fire Lord had risen from his own to greet them before they settled down. Not that that meant anything, she told herself firmly. The gold of his eyes and the nature of his bending was enough to make him her enemy, and yet she would tolerate tonight if only to make her sister happy.
Kata sighed, and resigned herself to an uncomfortable night. The table was filled with halting small talk for a while, as much as discussing the recent events of war and peace could be called small talk. Even when a door to the right opened and brought in the first course for the night, the silence of eating was eventually displaced by conversation. If it wasn’t more stories of the Avatar and his group’s exploits in overthrowing the last Fire Lord, it was Kama, Sokka and Hakoda extolling the virtues of the Southern Water Tribe food that had been specially placed before them.
Kata, however, didn’t absorb most of what they said. She ate mechanically, chewing and swallowing as if the wealth of sea prunes and fish before her was bread and water. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t hear them, oh no. Objectively she listened to the words as they turned to matters with the Northern Water Tribes, the invasion there, the Fire Lord’s regret, hah!, and even the matter of Sokka travelling there as an ambassador of sorts. She listened to Hakoda’s reasoning, to Sokka’s surprise at his father’s acquiescence Go where you’re needed, son. I can’t say how proud I am of you and your sister, and I wouldn’t be so selfish as to not share my beautiful children with the world, and even to the Fire Lord’s thanks and assurances. She even picked up on the undertones that, without it needing to be said, everyone knew that Sokka would not go to the Northern Water Tribes alone.
But even though she was listening, it didn’t mean that she was registering any of it. Kata felt oddly cold in the heat of the Fire Nation and the warmth of the room around her. It was only when Sokka spoke again, this time directly to her sister and using a name she’d never thought she’d hear again, that she woke from her strange, disembodied stupor.
“But there’s one thing I don’t understand,” Sokka frowned. “Hama told us she was the last waterbender left from the Southern Water Tribes. Why would she lie?”
The napkin Kata was clutching wrinkled. The fog that had been pressing down on her shattered in a moment of painful clarity. “You know Hama?” she asked in a strangled whisper.
The frown on Sokka’s face deepened as he turned to regard her. “Yes. And it seems you do too.”
There was a silent tension, the grim lines unspoken on Sokka’s face matching the story untold on Kata’s. Finally, Zuko cleared his throat quietly and lowered his chopsticks to the table. “Who’s Hama?”
Sokka turned to reply, but before he could get there someone else interrupted him. “She was a Southern Tribe Waterbender, just like us,” Kama said, her voice neutral.
Kata glanced in her sister’s direction when it seemed no more was forthcoming. “She was the only one of us who managed to escape,” she declared proudly, lifting her chin in defiance. “She was the only one of us who beat the Fire Nation at their own game.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Sokka said softly, and the tone in his voice made them all pause. Kata started in surprise. She’d written him off as a fool of youth when they’d first met, but now his eyes were deadly serious and there was no laughter in his face. “But I prefer to say that she lost, and lost badly.”
Kata’s heart leapt to her throat. “What do you mean?” she demanded raspily.
Sokka casually took one last bite of his sea prune, before lowering it unfinished onto his plate. “We found her as a successful innkeeper in a Fire Nation town. But once a month, she’d use bloodbending to imprison any innocent villager that came into her path. Mothers, children, old men. Nothing stopped her.” He glanced meaningfully at the wizened woman before him. “You should have seen the prison she kept them in. Underneath a mountain, where no one would hear their screams. Oh, and permanently cuffed to the walls.”
Kata did not have to look to know that her sister was ashen-faced. She swallowed. “Where is she now?”
Strangely enough, it was that question that made Sokka falter. He coughed uncomfortably as everyone at the table turned to him, enthralled by the twisted drama he was telling.
“Well, uh, actually... she’s back in prison.”
“WHAT?!”
Kata didn’t know what she was doing until she was standing, her eyes burning and her fingers out like claws. “You locked her away again?” she hissed. “After all those years of torment she’d already suffered...”
“We had no choice!” Sokka responded angrily. “You didn’t see her. I think... I think it made her insane. And it wasn’t as if we could just take time off from trying to defeat the Fire Lord to make sure she didn’t hurt anyone else!”
Kata’s fingers balled into helpless fists. “Do you have any idea what it’s liked to be locked up for most of your life? For longer than you remember? To watch your sister be beaten into the ground?”
From the struck look on his face, she knew that she’d hit something. “Well that’s what happened! So don’t you dare presume to judge us!”
“Kata...”
The warning tones of his sister were almost enough, but not quite, to stop her. “We were left in prison to rot! And now you’re telling me that she’s back in there?!”
“Lady Kata.”
This time, it was the male inflection and the title that brought her up short. She jerked her head up to see the Fire Lord’s gaze resting on her, and suddenly a wave of anger so strong it almost knocked her off her feet made her clutch at the table for balance. He seemed to take her silence as acquiescence, and so he spoke while she trembled.
“Lady Kata, I don’t think apologies could ever be enough. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for what my father and my father’s father have put you and your tribe through.”
Kata saw a curious mixture of red and electric blue flash across her eyes. “You’re right,” she spat. “Apologies are nothing when Hama is still in prison!”
“Kata that’s enough!”
This time her sister bodily yanked her down, and she stumbled into her seat with a crash. Kama let go, ignoring her sister, and then upheld her palms over the table. “I would apologise,” she said quietly. “Except that I would rather explain. It is difficult surviving on anger and hatred for over thirty years, and even more difficult to break our way out of that pattern. I’m afraid... it will take some time.”
From where he’d kept silent throughout the confrontation, Hakoda nodded. “I understand,” he said, and spread out his hands to mirror hers. “When Kya, my wife, was killed in a Fire Nation raid... I didn’t think I could ever see the Fire Nation again as anything but an enemy which had to be brought down. But then I was rescued from prison by my son and his golden-eyed friend,” he nodded his head in Zuko’s direction, “And I realised that I’d lost sight of the fact that I was angry at one man, not a nation. And then I was glad, because I’d found that to hate an entire nation is... exhausting.”
There was nothing but the sound of the fireplace crackling, its warmth settling in the room once again. Kama swallowed, tears in her eyes. Kata kept her head bowed, but her face had softened. Zuko looked across the entire table, at all his former enemies and the people his nation had wounded so keenly, and was touched by a sense of awe. Because no one was dead, no one was yelling any more, and instead of an atmosphere of murder, Kama and Hakoda’s words had shown strength enough to carry a hundred warring nations to peace.
He smoothed his fingers on the tablecloth. “It is an honour to sit together tonight with such incredible people,” he said quietly. “I only wish that there was more that I could do... which brings me to a matter that I was planning to save for later, but which perhaps might be better addressed now.”
Kama stared at this youth, this Fire Lord who she’d never imagined, and wondered. He continued. “I don’t know what you plan to do with your freedom, but I do know that I will try to help as much as I possibly can to help you back home, or do whatever else you want.”
“How about Hama?” Kata asked softly, her eyes never leaving the table.
Kama cursed under her breath, but then to her surprise found the Fire Lord looking grim, but thoughtful. “From Sokka’s story, it sounds like she is a grave danger to my people,” he started. But when Kata jerked up to argue, he kept going. “Nevertheless, I see no harm in setting her free if she wishes to leave the Fire Nation permanently.”
Despite herself, Kata smiled wistfully. “She always wanted to see the Northern Water Tribes.”
Zuko’s eyes gleamed. “Perfect. She can accompany Sokka, then. Perhaps you would like to join your friend too?”
Mutely, Kata nodded, too stunned at his proposition to do anything else. Beside her, Sokka slapped his forehead. “Ah, Zuko. You might want to reconsider that. I did kinda help put her in prison again...”
He stuttered to a stop when he caught the meaningful look in Zuko’s eyes. Oh. OH. Clever, Sokka thought grudgingly, and then sighed. “Okay, fine.”
“And you?” Zuko’s gaze turned to Kama. “Will you join your sister?”
Sokka rolled his eyes at the Fire Lord’s tone. “Don’t feel as though you have to,” he said, giving Zuko a look that meant he’d have had a rib-full of Water Tribe elbow if they’d been sitting closer. “I mean, if you wanted to, you could even stay here. Living a five star life in the palace is some step towards restitution, isn’t it Zuko? I’ve sure been enjoying it.”
Beside him, Suki groaned. “Don’t mind him,” she smiled at Kama. “You know he’s just joking.”
Kama paused. “Actually,” she said hesitantly, the idea just occurring to her. “I did want to meet your sister, Katara. And you did say that she’d most likely come back to the palace when she did, right?”
Sokka grinned painfully. “Probably.”
Kama missed the look in his eyes as she thought about their room, the softness, the water outside, and the warmth. She was no fool. She’d trained for eight years as a healer before she’d been taken, and she had no doubt that returning home in her weakened state might be the end of her, Only the strong survived on the ice, and although she felt a fierce longing rip through her chest at the idea of returning, she was also sure that a few months longer would do no harm.
Besides, she did want to meet this fellow Waterbender. This hero.
“Then if I am allowed to, I would like to stay here,” she caught the horror in her sister’s eyes, and hastened to continue. “Not permanently, of course. I want to see home again... it’s been so long. But I would very much like to meet this Katara.”
A wry smile touched her lips. “Besides,” she turned to the Fire Lord. “Your rooms are very comfortable.”
Zuko blinked. “Of course you are allowed to,” he said, his voice cracking a little. She should be demanding it, they both should; after all they’d been put through... “It’s the least I can do.”
Kata spoke up. “We can change our minds though, right?” she asked, sounding frightened.
He stared at her. “Of course,” he exclaimed. “It’s your futures that we are talking about.”
Sokka hesitated. “Although if you want to come with Suki and I, we’re leaving in a day or two.”
“That should be more than enough time,” Kata said, looking relieved, and Kama had a sinking feeling that she was going to have quite an argument on her hands when they returned to the privacy of her rooms.
Still, the opening of the side door from the kitchen was enough to shake her from her apprehension. The sisters watched with widened eyes as waiters cleared the table in front of them, and then loaded it once more with steaming dishes of food. Zuko hid a smile at their awed expressions, but Hakoda and Suki didn’t bother, their quiet joy shining plainly from their faces for all to see.
Sokka, of course, was too busy wondering what to eat next.
“Shall we begin the next course, then?” Zuko asked ironically, picking up his chopsticks again. The words seemed to loosen the spell, just long enough for Kama to turn to Sokka with a dazed look.
“How many courses did you say there were again?”
“Sixthpfh,” he managed to say through an impressive mouthful.
Suki groaned again, and the table laughed as they got back to it. For her part, Kama felt her smile broaden as she feasted her eyes on the array of food. After knowing the claw of hunger for so long, after having choked down the disgusting gruel year after year for survival... she could get used to this.
And so for the rest of that night, Kama didn’t question why everything tasted so good. After all, she had perhaps a few months of this to look forwards to, and she relished the idea. She’d never thought that there would be restitution, or that it would come in such a flame-shaped package. But then, she’d never thought she’d one day be the personal guest of the new Fire Lord, eagerly awaiting the return of a fellow Southern Tribe Waterbender who had been an immeasurable force in ending the war.
But beside her, Kata picked at her plate, her appetite suddenly vanished and her mind frighteningly blank. She was going back home. Home, without her sister, but with her best friend.
She should have been overjoyed. She knew that. Because even if Kama wasn’t coming with her this time (and she was still planning on arguing with her about that), they would be together again in a matter of months. Together again. Free. Home.
But she wasn’t. Instead, her mind was frighteningly blank. And she didn’t question why, despite all the dishes being objectively delicious, everything tasted like ashes.
