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The Price of Peace	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female > Katara/Zuko Views: 19166 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter Two --

Kicking the snow from her kamiks, Katara smiled. Her home was just that – her home, well actually, it was her father’s home. The Southern Water Tribe would never rival the grandiose of the Northern Tribe, but it was still growing. It seemed that there were more supplies than there were people, which wasn’t a bad thing. It was just odd.

She had returned to help her people rebuild, to help them heal. Though she had very little training in the healing arts, she could not ignore the gift. Her father had traveled to the Fire Nation capital for the summit, fostering the fragile diplomacy that had settled between the four nations – actually three.

Aang was the last Air Nomad. No amount of reparations could make up for the genocide against his people.

Sitting next to the fire pit, Katara stoked the glowing embers, her thoughts teetering on the edge of youthful memories. The long journey from the South to the North Pole, their pursuers – first Zuko, then Azula.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts and trying to bury them deep. She didn’t want to think about him. She didn’t want to think about the uneasy alliance between the banished prince and her best friend. Together, they had defeated Ozai, Zuko bearing the brunt of his father’s wrath. She had exhausted herself, healing the festering burns, ensuring that he lived to take his father’s place.

Iroh had never left Zuko’s side, watching in anguished silence as she used the healing water. She had summoned a reserve strength she hadn’t even realized she had possessed. Only later, when Sokka had tended to her, did she find how tenuous a line she had traveled. She had touched the spirit world, channeling the Water Spirit and healing Zuko’s fatal wounds.

The dreams still haunted her, the fortuneteller predicting her marriage to a powerful bender, her journey alongside her mother in the spirit world as they looked for the path back to her body. There was another entity, someone she had never met before – a spirit with such sorrow that it permeated the fabric of time and space.

Knowing the struggle would take its toll, she closed her eyes and succumbed to the memories.

“It isn’t your time, Katara,” her mother chanted as if it were a mantra, guiding her to the portal that would carry the young Waterbender out of the spirit world.

“But I don’t want to go,” Katara pleaded, clutching her mother’s intangible sleeve. “I want to stay.”

“There is much to do,” her mother replied sternly. “You must heal the people.”

Feeling the overwhelming sorrow press upon her, she shuddered. “I can’t! I won’t! I don’t want to! Please don’t make me go back!”

Her mother solidified before her, grasping her shoulders and shaking her gently. “I know life is painful, but you mustn’t give up! You will heal him.” She looked around, her eyes wide with fear. They were being followed, by what she wasn’t sure.

A young Fire Nation soldier appeared behind her mother. He had a stout build and a round face, his eyes somehow familiar to her. “You must hurry! They are coming!”

“Who is coming?” Katara asked as her mother pushed her toward a swirling pool of light.

“It isn’t your time,” was her mother’s only reply as she forced Katara into the pool.

She had woken several days later, Sokka softly snoring next to her.

There were cots all around the room, a makeshift hospital of sorts. Soldiers and civilians moaned. The war had not discriminated. Chaos still reigned. The scent of death still lingered in the air.

She was powerless to stop the tide of tears as they spilled onto her cheeks. She had wanted to stay with her mother. She had wanted to leave the ugliness of war behind.

“I am glad you found your way back, young Waterbender,” Iroh whispered above the sounds of suffering. “I thank you for my nephew’s life. He is destined for greatness, work I would not be able to complete before I return.”

Still groggy from her long sleep, Katara could only stare at the old Fire Nation general. “What?” Then her eyes fell to Zuko, taking in his sleeping form. Only his old scars remained.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Iroh sighed. “I look forward to seeing my son again. He is the one who sent me back.”

Katara stared at him blankly. “I don’t understand.”

Reaching out, Iroh touched her hair. “You were in the spirit world. When you were healing Prince Zuko, I watched as you touched his soul. Tui, the Ocean Spirit took you, encasing you in its beautiful light. It protected you, watched over you as you traveled through the other realm.”

“The spirit world?” Her eyes widened as she looked at the silvery-white strand of hairs that now mingled with her dark brown ones.

“Relax, young one,” he replied, his tone oddly calming. “The Moon and the Ocean Spirit are safe in their northern oasis.”

She wiped the tears away. “I s-saw my mother.”

“Katara?” Sokka’s voice was groggy on the other side of the bed, her brother’s hand grabbing one of hers.

“I’m okay, Sokka,” she said, and turned toward Iroh. “I didn’t want to come back, but she kept saying it wasn’t my time.”

“That is what is what my son, Lu Ten, said to me when I journeyed to the spirit world. He told me that I had to return to help Zuko. He was a selfless warrior.”

The vision of the Fire Nation soldier flashed in her mind. It was Lu Ten. It had to be. He looked just like his father, only younger. “He was there! He had a sword. He told me to hurry. The others were coming.”

Iroh bowed his head. “Even in the spirit world, my son knows no peace.”

Katara shuddered, listening to Iroh’s words and remembering the great sorrow that surrounded her. Perhaps wanting to stay there wasn’t such a good idea after all. “There was someone else too. Someone, I couldn’t see. But I could feel her. Yes, it was a woman. I know it was.”

Sighing, Iroh cleared his throat. “That is probably Zuko’s mother.” He leaned closer to her, looking over his shoulder to make sure his nephew was still asleep. “The palace is rife with rumors. Some say she killed herself. Others say, Ozai had her executed. Either way, Ursa’s spirit surrounds Zuko. Her love for him keeps her trapped between the realms. I suspect she is waiting. She is waiting for Zuko to find happiness.”

A shiver ran up her spine. “How do you know all this?”

Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Iroh leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “It is merely speculation.”

“Katara?” Gran Gran’s soft voice broke her reverie. “Are you well, my child?”

“Yes, of course.” She gave the older woman a weak smile and sat up.

“You received a letter today,” her grandmother announced softly, handing the letter to her. “It came by special courier. He is waiting for your reply.”

She ripped it open and unfolded the parchment with shaky hands. A letter was unheard of in these parts, even in summertime.

Dearest Daughter,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wish I could say that I was writing with good news, but I am afraid that is not the case. New threats have arisen. The stability of a strong nation hangs vicariously in the balance. The peace we have worked so hard to maintain unravels in our hands. I need you. I need your strength and wit, dearest Katara. I hope for no reply, only to hear your laughter soon.

May blessings follow you,

Father

Wasting no time, Katara gathered few items for the journey to the Fire Nation capital. Her father’s letter was cryptic, causing her worry to grow. Was he ill? Was there a plague? Question after question tumbled through her mind as she readied for her journey. No matter what the answers, she knew she had to go.

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The Price of Peace