Zuko finished the last sequence of his morning routine and paused to wipe the sweat from his face. Early-morning air remained cool and the courtyard empty and quiet. With his training concluded, thoughts he wanted to postpone began creeping back in, and the frustration he went to sleep and woke up with flowed back. He toweled his face dry and picked up the horn-bead bracelet to put back on. Every time he looked at it, he found a new detail in the engraving he hadn't noticed before. He felt closer to the Water Tribes after spending so much time there, but much of their culture remained a mystery, which meant he was still far from understanding Katara fully as well. Once in a while there was something enigmatic to her which he didn't know how to approach, and it seemed like there could be much she desired which he couldn't provide.

Washed and dressed in the layers of crimson silk, he entered the dining room and found her seated with tea awaiting breakfast. It was not the same dining room his father had used; Katara had insisted on the table being brought beside the window that overlooked the garden. It was koa wood, richly warm in tone and streaked in spectacular grain like marble. The sunlight made it gleam and brought out the glowing ember tones as it never had when isolated in the center of the room in darkness. Katara, still sleep-softened, gazed out the window with her fingertips on the teacup to maintain sense of the temperature. Her hair was down and tucked to one side, so the whole mahogany length draped over her shoulder and chest but left her neck and collar on the other side bare to the morning daylight.

"Good morning," he said, and took a seat beside her. He couldn't help smiling, not when he saw the way she looked at him, like something precious and comforting, in a way no one else did. The jade hair ornament lay beside her hand at the table, mother-of-pearl sparkling in the light, and around her neck was her mother's necklace of moonstone. It seemed to leave him without a place in her life. Upon his parents' engagement, his father had given an entire chest of gems and golden jewelry to his mother, enough to drown in, so Zuko, seeking to give her the opposite of what his father had provided his mother, was left searching for just one singular, poignant emblem, the furthest thematically he could reach away from that ill-fated proposal. Thinking of ten possibilities was easy, a hundred, easy, but to settle on one seemed impossible. He couldn't replace her mother, didn't want to take away the strength she had found for herself, and even the spot at her chest was already decorated by the vial from the spirit oasis. Where could he fit in?

At the last moment before the meal arrived, Kiyi burst in, dashing around the servant balancing the well-laden tray, and raced to the table. "I want to eat breakfast with you."

"We eat a meal together every day. Be more cautious. Do you see what a heavy tray she has?"

She pouted as the woman rested the tray at the table and began placing the dishes. Zuko worried she was growing spoiled, but Katara assured him all children were like that, and, thinking her experience a better compass than his own, he decided to trust her on that. Kiyi swung her legs, which were just long enough to sweep the floor as she did. "Oh, I want strawberries, too!" A handful of the earliest crop had arrived, and they were quartered and mixed with tapioca pearls and cream. The staff, who never thought she wouldn't, already had a dish for her, and she delighted in it. "But, Zuzu, I'll be leaving soon and want to get as much time with you as I can." She was being allowed her first part in the play and would leave soon with her mother and father for their training camp.

Ursa entered the room at that time, carrying the kicking toddler hefted over her shoulder like a sack of rice. "Kiyi, I told you not to run ahead."

"Zuzu is here, so it's okay."

Zuko asked, "Where is Ikem?"

"Helping Iroh. He was having a lot of pain this morning." His uncle would be going with their troupe, as their training camp was near a hotspring reputed for its medicinal properties. "It isn't polite to run." She set Yuze down and pulled a dish of roasted yam in front of him. He was in his picky stage and would refuse certain foods randomly, but could never resist yam. Kiyi set aside her strawberries, fascinated with him. They were indistinguishable from siblings.

Zuko had the impression Katara would have liked to go with them to have a change of scenery, but as he had to remain at the palace she too would probably stay. Not everyone was impressed with his story regarding Zhao, although what he said was all perfectly true, if slightly misrepresented. It felt like his rule was probationary, and still might be taken away from him at any moment.

After the meal he excused himself, thinking of his day's tasks, but footsteps followed him down the hall. Katara, clutching her hair ornament, jogged to catch up. "Wait, Zuko. Is that all you're going to eat?"

"I have to prepare for a meeting."

She stepped close to him, so their bodies brushed each other's, and raised a hand to his face. "You aren't eating enough. You're getting thin." She traced a fingertip along his cheek.

"I'm fine." She wasn't assured, but he left taking her silence as acceptance. His father didn't have such a workload, as all the administrators feared him too much to try anything underhanded, but Zuko did not have that luxury. The only way to assure their honesty was to check over the accountbooks and policy drafts for himself, a task which saw many hours hunched over a desk. She might dislike the time investment, but he was doing this for her.

In the afternoon he salvaged one free hour to go into town, though he couldn't reach further than the upper district. With a hood pulled over himself he could go without notice if he was careful. Seated at a teashop, he could people-watch without disturbance. He'd been spending the last several weeks doing that when he found time, and he took close notice of all the women—what accessories they wore, what they carried, what they seemed to think precious. He saw many being given cut flowers, but that wasn't suitable for Katara, as a flower simply wouldn't last. Some wore jewels in other settings than a necklace—armbands, broaches, bracelets, rings—and he found the possibilities still overwhelming and didn't know the fashion standards. She might prefer another item, like a hand-mirror or a stationary set, but neither seemed significant enough.

Out of time, he downed the last of the tea and set to return, stalking with his face down and keeping to the shadows. By her hand, kneeling in the miraculous grass of the spirit oasis, with the twin deities circling in the pond beside them, she had managed the impossible to fade an old scar he never thought he would be rid of. The heavy folds and deadened, waxy skin had been smoothed over, dampening the damage, and his marking remained as a pale pink impression of what had been indelible even after the oasis water. He felt lighter, and gone was the angry red, the extent of deformity, and the sense limitations. Some of the structure and function had been returned to him for both his vision and hearing. When he looked in the mirror, he no longer saw the mark of Ozai, but, rather, Katara's mark, one much more merciful and a lighter burden.

It was clear she was eager to shoulder half his burden managing the nation, but he refrained from letting her. She was kind, but the throneroom was a nest for vipers. His forefathers had not been twisted into their coldness without reason, and Zuko worried whether that same coldness would come upon him.

He slipped inside the palace and left the cloak in his study, but found a servant running towards him. "Firelord, you've received a letter from the White Lotus marked urgent. Your mother and uncle are in the tearoom reading it now." Forgetting everything else, he rushed over to meet them.

The White Lotus meant, in this case, Sokka. His uncle turned the note over to him. Katara, who had already seen it, was curled in a chair with her face hidden, making his stomach feel cold, and he read it quickly already flinching from what must have been bad news. "Yue has been attacked. Katara, they've requested your help; are you ready to leave now?"

"I can go whenever, but what about you? You've said so often that you're busy with work."

"I have time enough for this. I'm going with you." Not everyone in the Fire Nation approved of a waterbender getting so close to the Firelord, and two Water Tribe women had already been assaulted as it was. "Uncle?"

"I'm afraid I will just slow you down," he said, and rubbed his leg. "I'm more useful staying with Ursa and our family to protect them. Normally the tidal force would be a cause for delay, but with a certain waterbender here, I think you two can make good time. They've sent notice to have a ship prepared, and it will await you in the Firelord's Harbor."

"Thank you."

His mother stood and pulled him into a hug. "Be careful," she whispered. "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

Within an hour they were aboard the ship. Zuko stood a few paces behind Katara on the deck, watching uselessly as she propelled the vessel against the incoming tide, helping them make a record pace. Afternoon sun glittered across the choppy bay as a vast horizon opened around them. Seagulls cried out as they made swift passage. He wondered if she would acquiesce to sleep, or if she would insist on staying up through the night to push the ship along faster than the engine alone. The North and South may have been separated for a century, but they were still one people and part of the same culture, and it must have weighed on her mind that an attack had been made on their princess, especially at the feet of her own brother. He was already beginning to count it in with the other elements weighing against the longevity of their relationship; grudges and a century of brutality were enough for them to overcome, but if a new war broke out due to this incident, they would be ripped apart from each other, and the Purists would have their way. He went to sit down nearby, watching her but unable to protect her from anything.

Zuko wanted to have a solution prepared and ready by the time they made landing at the island, but his mind was slow and heavy. He was beginning to accept that he wasn't suited for rule. Azula had the mindset for it, she had the silver tongue and cunning, but Zuko had only vague notions for goodwill and a desire for peace without the means to bring about that peace, and, already, it was slipping from his grasp. Katara took a break and came to sit leaning against the wall of the superstructure in the shade with him. Her brow glistened in sweat. Zuko let his thoughts bleed into saying, "Azula and my mother have been trading letters. She replies hardly anything to Ursa, and always sounds impersonal, but they had never been close, and Azula always disliked her even as a child. If I wrote to her, she might be able to give me advice."

"You don't need advice from someone like her. You're doing well on your own, Zuko. Rule by your own judgement."

"I'm not, though. The princess of the Northern Water Tribe was almost killed in my territory, and I don't know what to do about it. What am I going to say to Chief Arnook? His daughter almost died because I can't keep control over my country."

"It isn't your fault, and these things happen. What matters is how you react to it. By coming to see her with me, you're already doing more than your father ever would have."

"Of course you would say that. You're too easy on me."

"You're too hard on yourself."

She leaned on his shoulder, resting her head against his hair. He asked, "Do you really think it's a bad idea to ask Azula to help me?" The ocean breeze surrounded them both with marine fragrance, and he could taste the salt on his lips.

"Anything she tells you will be tainted, pointed like a weapon. She will want to use Yuze to seize power from you, when he comes of age, and she'll instill some weakness in your rule that she can argue against later to secure his victory." Of all things, he never wanted to need to fight against Yuze—a rivalry between them would break his uncle's heart for good, and Ursa would lose her family a third time. "Nothing she tells you will ever be honest. Safeguard yourself from her influence."

"You're right. Sorry, I'm just overwhelmed. Everything was already stressful, and now I don't know what to do about this. It feels like everything is falling apart."

"It's not, and it won't. I want to help you. The White Lotus, your uncle, Sokka, they all want to help you, too. And I doubt Yue hates you. She's the one who argued with her father for the sake of letting me use the spirit oasis water to treat you. We'll figure this out."

"Katara, it shouldn't be your responsibility. It's mine to deal with this."

She pinched his cheek, and he yelped in outrage. "I've been at your side two years and I'm not going anywhere, so get used to it." Having said so, she settled back at his side. "I'm tired."

"Rest a while."

After what happened to Lu Ten, Iroh finally had the chance to be a father again, and Ursa, having had her children taken away from her for so many years, felt the same, that Yuze was their second chance. Of all the dysfunction in their family, its origin was Ozai, not her, but Ursa blamed herself for Azula's disposition. If he and Yuze came to vie for power, the family he'd only just regained would be destroyed. Kindness was not enough to protect them—what he needed were strength and cunning, which were his sister's natural gifts, but not his. Zuko wondered what actually was his.

#

"It feels like drowning," the young woman complained with a voice distorted by the blood-clots and broken cartilage. Her hand was firm on Katara's wrist, holding her and the healing water back.

"It will be uncomfortable, but you'll feel better when I'm finished." The touch of the water from her initial attempt had dissolved the scabs and her blood was flowing again. Rather than seeming to be in pain, Wen looked irritated by that, and used a towel to stymie the flow while keeping Katara at a distance. "If you clench your throat a certain way, it will keep the water from giving you that post-nasal-drip sensation."

"I don't need your help. Go attend to Princess Yue."

Katara had already finished her injuries, which the girl very well knew. Zuko glanced at her face and saw how frustrated she was getting. "Princess Yue is fine now, there's nothing else I can do for her and she just needs to rest. You're the only one remaining injured. Just bear with it for a little while longer so I can finish, or you'll be walking around with a crooked nose the rest of your life."

"Who cares about a crooked nose? Maybe then my parents won't nag me to get married." Her towel-guard remained, blocking her attempt to tend the injury as well as her face.

"That's it." Katara gathered up all the water from both her pouch and the pitcher of drinking water on the nearby table, swirled it together while Zuko watched nervously, and sent out two streams flying into her hands which still clutched the towel. Her wrists were pulled back and frozen to the headboard. "I am finishing your treatment and you will sit there and endure it."

Wen began thrashing, trying to shatter the ice to free her wrists and resume guarding her injury, so Katara crawled on top of her at the bed and sat her weight down to pin her there. "Water-witch!" she shouted, before her face was smothered in the remaining water—momentarily. Having impressed her point, Katara withdrew the water back to only her nose, and Wen glared at her with fury while she worked. The standoff lasted a quarter hour, then she released the girl, fully healed and free to go. She rubbed her wrists resentfully. Katara strode out, and Zuko muttered an apology behind them, then joined her in the hallway, closing the door behind himself to shut off the stream of insults and threats from the indignant young woman.

"I have never had a patient react like that to me. And 'water-witch'? She's from the Water Tribe herself."

"Don't take it personally," said Zuko. "She's been through a lot."

The two rejoined the group waiting in Yue's room. They seemed to have questions and must have overheard some of the argument, but no one asked, and they turned back to the princess, who was sipping a medicinal tea dutifully. She didn't comment on the behavior of her companion.

Zuko asked, "Princess Yue, have you remembered anything else about the attack?"

She set aside the tea. "There is nothing else to remember. I took a night walk, and a man with most of his face hidden in black fabric attacked me with a knife. I fell over the cliff before he could finish me off. I don't care about it—I'm fine, so there is no need to investigate anything."

"I respectfully disagree with that," replied Zuko.

"Please, just don't tell my father what happened."

"That depends on how well we manage to handle the situation. If you gave us more information, it would help us wrap this up quietly. Surely his eyes were uncovered—did you see his eyecolor? Could you tell his height, or age?"

"It was dark, and I didn't have more than a second to look."

Zuko frowned and moved to lean against the wall with a huff. He'd been trying his best to be polite, but her uncooperative attitude was as exasperating as Wen's. Sokka tried next. "Alright, so maybe you didn't see him well, but what about the fall? How did you survive? Falling from where you did in the way you describe, you would have hit the ground, not the water."

When she didn't reply, he moved towards her bed and lifted a hand towards her shoulder trying to reassure her. She flinched back and screamed, "Don't touch me."

"Sorry," he said, backing away in shock. He looked hurt by her reaction.

Katara decided to try next. "Why don't you want us to tell your father?"

"He'll never let me travel again if he finds out. It will be the end for us—he'll keep me locked up in the palace until the day I die." Her lip quivered, and she pressed them together to restrain herself.

"Yue," Suki tried. "If we aren't able to catch who did this, he might try again—he probably will try again. You're in danger. We just want to help you." She was willing to meet Suki's eyes, and this encouraged her. "What happened when you fell?"

"The water spirit protected me."

"You've said that, but are you sure that's what happened? It doesn't seem like a spirit to do so."

"It did."

"How?"

"I don't know. All I saw was white, and I heard the roar of water."

Her unhelpful answers were becoming frustrating to everyone. She had indeed been soaking wet when found, but Yue was not a waterbender, and Katara doubted that a spirit saved her. Zuko crossed his arms and examined her. "It's just curious that the assassin was using a knife. You're in the Fire Nation. By any stretch of reason, an assassin would probably be a firebender. Yet he used a knife instead of bending, so that we can't tell for sure what nation he's from."

Yue replied coldly, "Maybe you just don't want to admit that your own people are still thirsty for blood."

He hesitated at her sudden venom, then replied in a composed voice, "I am trying to establish peace. Help me."

She had the look of rethinking herself, and replied, "I know you are. I'm sorry for saying that. You're doing all you can." While she apologized, she was drawn to