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Bitter Alliance	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female > Katara/Zuko Views: 31138 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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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Bitter Joy

Act IV

Chapter One—

Seven years has passed since our arrival at Ba Sing Se. The once grand city had been in ruins. The death toll from my father’s vengeance had been especially high here. Only the elite had known of the crystal caverns beneath the city.

They were the only ones who survived the massacre of the fire rain.

They turned us away when we arrived, shunning us for who and what I was. They had been willing to allow Katara, Toph, Sokka, and Kaya to seek shelter there, but Firebenders were not allowed.

Jeong Jeong had been incensed, but I had accepted their ruling calmly. I hated my time in the caverns beneath the Fire Nation. Though it meant splitting my family apart, I encouraged Katara to seek refuge within the Earth Kingdom caves.

She refused, and we made lives for ourselves above ground with the various refugees and militiamen who had found their way back to the city. I could not help but appreciate the irony, for most of the refugees were the ones who had been evacuated from the underground passages beneath the Fire Nation before the final offensive against Ozai.

There is no threat of the fire rains any longer. Although Sozin’s comet circles the earth like a vulture around a rotting carcass, it cannot harm us. Ever since that fateful day in the desert, I have not felt its presence though I am reminded of it daily. The sky still holds the orange hue, like poison festering within an open wound.

The Sect of Kroni seemed to vanish that day. After being turned away from the crystal caverns, I thought we would be on the run forever, but the surviving soldiers who limped into the cluttered streets of Ba Sing Se regaled us of how Kroni soldiers had miraculously withdrawn even though they’d had the advantage.

Those soldiers are our protection now, stationed in the rebuilt houses surrounding ours. Katara and I do not delude ourselves even though the last seven years have been peaceful.

Kaya is still hunted. That thought alone is enough to cause us worry, but time has not been kind to us…

Sokka died two years ago today. He came down with a fever. Katara tried to heal him, but her abilities were useless against whatever illness claimed him.

Though she tries to hide the fact that she has been crying, I can see the strain in her shoulders and the puffiness of her eyes, the ones I fell in love with so long ago.

Though my daughter “talks” to her uncle often, she does not speak of it. It saddens Katara to know that her brother is not with her mother and father and that Sokka is trapped with the other spirits, denied access to the spirit world by whatever malevolent entity that blocks the path.

Kaya and Iroh are twelve-years-old now.

Iroh is a prodigy, much like Azula was at his age. Jeong Jeong is tough on him, making demands on my son that I never could have. That is why Jeong Jeong is his Firebending master.

Although Kaya is talented, she struggles with her bending. Her lessons are fractured and incomplete. A pupil is only as good as its master. She has demonstrated competency in all the bending arts, but not mastery.

She is the Avatar, the spirit of our wounded planet reborn. Aang died in the Avatar state. I saw it with my own eyes. The cycle was broken, and no one can explain how the Avatar was reborn.

Was the Avatar actually reborn?

I will never forget the day he died. I can never forget the look of surprise on Aang’s face as my father’s Fire Dragon pierced his heart. He seemed so invincible in his Avatar state. We were supposed to win. We were supposed to stop the comet and my father.

But that didn’t happen.

Theories abound. One such theory says my daughter is the first Avatar of a new cycle, gifted not with the powers and knowledge of those before her, but with the ability to bend all of the elements to her will. This theory ties into the belief that the earth’s soul is eternal. I wish now that I had paid more attention to the lessons my mother had tried to teach me.

“Give it back!” Iroh’s angry voice cracks from the courtyard, interrupting my thoughts.

“I’m tellin’ Dad!” Kaya screeches in retaliation.

The sound of stomping feet rushing up the stairs is loud, and I prepare myself to referee between my children, silently thanking whichever deity that Katara has gone back to bed. Opening the door, I step into the hallway.

Kaya reaches me first, holding her a hand to her head. “Daddy!”

She must be in trouble. She only calls me daddy when she’s done something wrong. Placing my finger to my lips, I shush my daughter. “Your mother has gone back to bed. She isn’t feeling well.”

Iroh bounds up the stairs and draws breath to shout too, but he sees the expression on my face and realizes that his mother is resting.

I shepherd my children down the stairs. As soon as they reach the bottom landing, they begin to plead their cases.

“Kaya took my practice sword,” Iroh whines, “and she won’t give it back.”

I hide my smile. Kaya has bested her brother in swordplay again. It wounds Iroh’s pride that his sister is better than he is with the wooden broadswords I crafted for them. The parallel between my childhood and theirs is so similar. Although Kaya looks like Katara, she reminds me of myself. The weight of responsibilities that should never belong to a child reflects in her gaze like ghostly wisps of smoke. Whereas Iroh may look like me, I fear he has Azula’s prideful spirit.

Kaya removes her hand, revealing the singed bangs. “He burned my hair, Daddy!” she sniffled. “I won the sword honorably. When I wouldn’t give it back, he used his fire whip against me!”

Touching the dark strands of her hair, I try to think of ways to disguise the obvious destruction of her hair loops and bangs. Of all the days for my children to fight! Why today!

“She used her water whip against me!” Iroh rubs a red mark on his cheek.

Bowing my head in defeat, I sigh. “Iroh, go to your room.”

He scoffs and begins to argue, but I raise my head and give him a look that brokers no argument.

“I should have known you would take her side,” he grumbles, stomping up the stairs. The resounding slam of his door heralds his arrival there.

Kaya’s sniffles miraculously stop, and she wipes her tears away with the sleeve of her tunic.

“Give me both swords,” I demand, holding my hand out. “When you and your brother can demonstrate the proper respect for one another, you may have them back.”

Unlike her brother, Kaya does not argue and quickly hands the wooden swords to me. I place them on the table and turn to my daughter. “I don’t care who started it. The fact that both of you used bending to fight each other disturbs me.”

A small squeak erupts from my daughter as she begins to cry.

I walk into the kitchen area and collect a knife. Wielding it with a skill that is inherent to me, I approach my daughter. “We won’t be able to hide this from your mother. Should I be the one to tell her why your hair is cut or you?”

Kaya sobs silently, her shoulders shaking.

“Be still,” I caution her, gathering the un-singed hair loop in one hand and cutting it with the knife to even out the cut.

“Is it true?” she whispers sullenly, gathering the fallen hair in her hand and rubbing it curiously.

“Is what true?” I ask, bracing myself. Though I have learned many things about my children over the years, I know that when Kaya begins to ask questions, I had better have some answers. Either that, or find someone who does. She always mumbles to herself. I forget that she can see a world that we cannot.

“Uncle Sokka…” She lowers her voice and looks over her shoulder to make certain her mother is not in the room. “Uncle Sokka says Mom has two souls inside her… a new spirit that will grow and become its own body.”

I feel the blood drain from my cheeks. My daughter’s ability to speak with the spirits has come in handy on several occasions. They keep her safe. They provide her with comforts I could never imagine. Knowing that my uncle, Aang, and Sokka are watching over her has soothed me upon numerous occasions. Realizing Azula’s spirit is near makes me uneasy.

But to find out that my wife is with child…

I’m amazed. I thought my injuries would prevent such a thing from happening. Anxiety and happiness war within me. “Are you certain?” I whisper.

Kaya nods. “Does it mean mom is going to have a baby?”

“I don’t know,” I answer softly. “Go to your room. Do not come out until the next meal is served.”

Kaya bows her head, acknowledging her punishment for using the water whip against her brother. “Yes, sir.”

Following her up the stairs, my mind dwells on the possibility of what she has told me. It isn’t that I wouldn’t welcome another child… No matter how hard I try, I cannot temper the joy that has bloomed in my heart. Although the guilt over missing so much of Kaya and Iroh’s lives isn’t all consuming, it lingers. A new guilt has taken its place. What kind of life can I provide for it? Who would bring a child into a world that teeters on the brink of destruction?

I open the door to our sitting room. We lead a comfortable life. It isn’t as though we have servants waiting on us hand and foot, but Katara’s healing abilities have earned us a place of esteem in the village that surrounds us. We are valued members of the community even though we never asked to be.

Entering the bedroom, I pause. Muted rays of sunlight caress my wife’s slumbering curves. I devour her appearance. I can’t believe that she is still mine. After everything that has happened…

I catch myself, determined not to dwell on the past.

Divesting myself of clothing, I pull the blanket back and kneel on our pallet. As careful as I am, my wife shifts, signaling that she is awake.

“What were they arguing about now?” she asks, her voice raspy with sleep.

I pull her into my arms, pillowing her head on one of them and touching her stomach with the other. I place a gentle kiss on her cheek and sigh, realizing I might as well tell her about our daughter’s hair now rather than later.

“Kaya bested Iroh at swordplay, and she wouldn’t give him his sword back,” I inform her. “They…dueled.”

Katara grows tense. “Are they all right?”

“Yes,” I reply, “but I had to cut Kaya’s singed hair so that it is even.” I hold my breath and wait for her reaction. Her eyes are closed, and she begins to tremble in my arms. Her face is covered in shadows. I start to ponder if there was a better way to tell her, feeling guilty for making her cry, and then she snorts.

She’s laughing. She turns her head, and I can see her face. Tears streak down her cheeks she’s laughing so hard. “Do you…” She gasps for air. “Remember the time I cut her hair so short. You were so angry with me.”

I nod, unable to contain my smile.

“They dueled then,” she chuckles. “Iroh and his fire whip…”

“I’ll have Jeong Jeong speak to him about—”

“You need to speak to him about it, Zuko,” she states emphatically, patting my arm. “Jeong Jeong is his Firebending master, not his father. You are his father and you are Kaya’s.”

My breath catches in my throat as her fingers intertwine with mine and press against her stomach. “Katara…” My voice is thick with emotion.

She smiles, the graceful curve of her lips offering a serene oasis for my soul. “And you are this one’s father as well,” she whispers, tilting her head for my kiss.

There are no words to express my gratitude. I am thankful she has accepted the news well. Excitement blooms in my heart, and I brush my lips against hers. “Kaya knows.”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Nosey spirits.”

--

TBC

Author’s Notes: As always, I am amazed over the response this story gets. Thanks to all who have reviewed. It is greatly appreciated. I must admit that I almost abandoned this story based on the season three preview. I was so angry over that scene where Zuko is talking to Iroh. I started wondering how I was going to write a “sympathetic” Zuko. Then I smacked myself upside the head and reminded myself that my story was an alternate universe story anyway. So, I guess what I’m saying is this… If I haven’t updated in a while, leave a review or email me. Feel free to pester me. It keeps the muse jumping. You can even instant message me at looneyluna200 on AIM and YIM. At least, I think those are my screen names.
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Bitter Alliance