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The Seeing Bowl, Chapter Two:  Gifts

After spending days in near darkness, the light in the icy hallway burned Zuko's eyes. It didn't help that he had a nasty headache from whatever they'd sedated him with after his latest escape attempt. He had no idea why they had stopped forcing the sickly sweet concoction on him, but he doubted it was anything good. They probably wanted him to be fully aware when they executed him. Although his thoughts were no longer slow and syrupy, he still lacked the coordination to firebend without hurting himself, or even to fight hand-to-hand.

He was cold. They'd tried to force some Water Tribe clothes on him, but he'd refused to put them on. He had stopped shivering, and he wondered vaguely if he was developing frostbite. He'd never experienced it before, but he remembered Azula mentioning it as potential hazard for any long term siege against the Northern Water Tribe.

Zuko was half marched, half dragged through the curtains at the end of the hallway and into an even brighter chamber, then up onto a slightly elevated dais. Hundreds of blue eyes were staring up at him from their seats at the long tables. The scent of cooked meat and strange spices reached his nose. He'd been fed, but his stomach still rumbled at the thought of warm meat.

Zuko was being steered towards a group of people seated at a table a the end of the hall. He recognized a few of them. The Water Tribe Chief, who had come to inspect him once or twice, was there, as were several of the near-identical earthbenders who had guarded him. He also saw the tall Earth Kingdom official with the goatee. Zuko had only seen him once before, and he didn't want to recall that occasion. He nearly lost his footing as he dug is heels into the icy ground and struggled to walk under his own power rather than be dragged along. He was going to go to his death like the son of the Fire Lord should, with his head held high.

He expected to be brought before the chief, or the Earth Kingdom official, but instead he felt the blunt end of a spear against his back, forcing him to kneel at one end of the table, directly in front of a girl with striking white hair. Before one of the guards pushed his head down, he realized that she must have been close to his own age.

"To my daughter," said the chief, his voice echoing in the silent room, "I offer the son of Fire Lord Ozai and former crown prince of the Fire Nation as a prisoner to do her bidding."

Zuko opened his mouth to shout something, maybe a refusal, maybe a curse, but one of the guards clamped a hand over his mouth. He bit down, hard, and tasted blood. The guard yelped and pulled his wounded hand away, then cuffed him on the back of the head. Zuko bit down on his tongue to keep from wincing, and he felt dizzy for a few moments. He was sure that if it wasn't for the tight hold the guards had on both of his arms, he would have crumpled to the ground. Through his rage, Zuko could feel an angry howl building in his chest. He looked up into the eyes of the white-haired girl, and what he saw made him pause. Her face was blank, but her eyes were angry. She stood.

"Father, is this boy meant to be mine, to do with as I please?" she asked without taking her eyes off of the restrained prince.

The chief nodded. "As you please," he said.

"Then I free him."

Katara couldn't believe what she was hearing. Chief Arnook might not have said it outright, but he was making the Fire Nation prince a slave. That was unheard of. She knew from her weekly history lectures with Yue and the other young ladies that long ago there had been a practice of penal servantitude in the Water Tribe, but even that was regarded as a barbaric today. She looked at Yue with wide eyes.

Those who didn't know the princess well wouldn't have noticed the slight shift in Yue's posture, but Katara could see that she was already beyond being shocked. Yue had the stare of righteous anger that she only used when her people were being mistreated. She stood up, and Katara found herself feeling a little sorry for Chief Arnook. When Yue spoke in a cool voice and freed the Fire Nation Prince, the young waterbender cringed.

Even though it was nearly midnight when the feast ended, Katara had trouble getting to sleep. Her spacious room, which adjoined Yue's suite, seemed barren. The walrusbear bone chairs, which framed the pelt draped doors, looked like skeletal hands, and the fire in the stone hearth at the foot of her bed threw eerie shadows that shifted and swelled across the walls. It felt the same as when she had first been invited to sleep at the palace, too large and too empty of familiar faces. Finally, after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, she climbed out of her pile so furs, put on a pair of boots, and slipped through the main doorflap and into the palace hallways.

She wandered aimlessly, a small globe of glowing water hovering above one hand, until she found herself in the kitchen, alone with the cooling ovens.

The Fire Nation boy had been taken away without the chief indicating where he was to be kept, and there was nothing like a jail cell in the palace itself. Katara hesitated for a moment, and she was suddenly sure of where he was. She crossed to the storeroom and, water globe in hand, walked confidently toward the back of the room. When she reached the long brass dish, she turned in a slow circle and peered through the shadows. She inched forward and held out her water globe, allowing the gentle light to brighten the area.

"Hello?" she called. There was no answer, but Katara clearly heard something moving to her right. She walked determinedly towards it, cursing when she banged her shin on a box of crockery before continuing at a more reasonable pace. She soon came upon an over-sized steel cage that was tucked between walrusbear-bone shelves and beneath a group of damp nets. The cage was nearly a head taller than Katara and spanned the length of her arms, from fingertip to fingertip. It had a solid metal bottom and an open barred metal top that would allowed the water droplets from the drying nets to fall into the cage and occasionally strike the boy who was huddled in one corner. His even breathing indicated that he was asleep.

"Wake up," whispered Katara. He didn't move. She knelt down beside his sleeping form and repeated it, louder, and he still didn't move. She frowned slightly and reached through the cage bars to shake his shoulder, then pulled back skittishly when he stirred. She leaned forward again when the silence continued, and she was beginning to think he hadn't really woken up at all when he had been paraded at the feast.

"Go away." His voice was gravelly, and he sounded younger than she had imagined. Thinking back on the evening, she knew he had looked about Yue's age, but it was hard to think of a Fire Nation prince with an adolescent voice.

Katara didn't say anything, and she held out her water globe to get a better look at him. She tilted her head to the side. He didn't look like a monster, or the son of a monster. He looked like a sleepy teenager. He shifted slightly, and his straggly hair fell off to one side, revealing an angry bruise on the side of his forehead. It looked old.

"Go away, peasant," he hissed. He stood up with his knees bent and turned to glared down at her before he stumbled and grabbed one of the bars of his cage for support. His other hand clutched his forehead, and he grunted in pain. "Damn it!"

Katara grabbed the hand held that held the bar and pulled him up against the side of the cage, then tried to tug his head down by his hair.

"Let go!" yelled the boy.

"Be quiet," said Katara, and brought her globe closer to examine his bruise.

"I'll kill you," he muttered. "I'll kill all of you, and I'll melt your damn city and no one will remember any of you filthy peasants."

Katara narrowed her eyes at the bruise on his forehead and winkled her nose when a small trickle of blood fell from a cracked scab at his hairline. She should just leave. He didn't want her help, and he certainly didn't deserve her help. He was not just Fire Nation, he was the son of the Fire Lord. It didn't matter if he didn't look like a monster. He was a monster, and he deserved any punishment that he received.

She sat up on her knees, ready to head back to her quarters, and tore her eyes away from the disoriented Fire Nation prince. Her hold on him tightened, and she glared hard into the darkness. An uncomfortable lump formed in her throat. She couldn't let go of his arm.

She closed her eyes tightly before regarding the prince again. He was barely aware of her presence. Her lip gave a small quiver. Defeated, she reformed her globe into a glove around her hand and held it against his bruise. She ignored that she was healing the son of the man who was responsible for the murders of her mother and most of her tribe, and instead tried to concentrate on feeling the chi and blood flow through his body. There was a tangle of chi and reduced blood flow in part of his brain. They matched the descriptions Yugoda had given for lingering effects of concussions. Healing such damage was complicated, and Katara had only practiced on the carved chi paths of Yugoda's dummy. But she was almost certain that no one else would be foolish enough to heal the son of the Fire Lord. She scowled darkly when she felt a twinge of sympathy for the boy in front of her.

She went to work on his damaged tissue, but hesitated when her eyes locked with the Fire Nation boy.

Although he held mercifully still as she worked on his wounds, he still gripped the bars of his cage tightly and glared at her.

Katara wondered if she looked as angry as he did. She forced herself to tear her gaze away and continue healing. She refused to look towards his eyes again. It would drive her mad. He had no right to be so angry with her, and it was impossible that he hated her more than she hated him.

It took a good half hour, and when she was done, Katara was torn between satisfaction in her work and shame for helping a Fire Nation prince. The brain injury was fully healed, and there would be no lingering effects. She'd even gotten rid of the bruise, more out of habit than intention.

"You should be grateful. I'm not sure what you did to earn that, but I wouldn't do it again," she told the boy, avoiding his gaze. She turned away and crossed her arms over her chest. "There's no one else here who would heal you," she added bluntly, looking back over her shoulder.

He cautiously felt at the spot where the external injury had been and stared at the floor. Katara waited a few seconds to see if he would say or do anything, but he didn't, not until she had turned and started to walk away.

"Thank you."  It was grudging and quiet, but he said it.

Katara paused for a moment, then continued on her way without a response.

The day after the feast, the trainee warriors were allowed to sleep in a full two hours, but Sokka woke up at the usual hour despite his tiredness. He wasn't the only one. Most of the younger boys  -- the ones who hadn't been allowed more than one cup of ice wine -- were awake by the time the barracks gong rung in the seventh hour of the day. It was still dark outside, and this soon after the winter solstice, there wouldn't be light for hours, but Sokka was wide awake and still excited enough over his father's return that he didn't even think about going back to sleep. He huddled with some of the other boys near a dim oil lamp, talking rapidly about the warriors' return.

"My father says that on Ember Island, they found one of the Fire Lord's estates. He brought back a album full of portraits and stuff to prove it too. He's going to show me after training today," said Nomoak, who was in his second year of training, one ahead of Sokka.

"Pigbullshit," said Hahn.  He was the same age a Nomoak, and the son of a prominent shipbuilder. In Sokka's opinion, he was a self-absorbed show-off. "I won't believe it till I see it."

It was difficult to tell in the dim light, but Nomoak seemed to go red.  "I can't show you," he said.  "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, because the Chief wanted to give them to the Earth Kingdom guys."

Hahn snorted.  "I knew it."  He turned to Sokka, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation.  "What about your dad, Sokka?  From what the Chief said, he should have some great war stories."

Sokka turned slightly red himself. He couldn't say that his dad had refused to tell him about any of the battles.

After a moment of panic, he leaned his head back on his hands and shrugged nonchalantly. "Just the usual stuff," he said.  "We didn't really have a chance to talk strategy, what with the Chief wanting to talk to him."

"What about the ghost town?" asked Okue.  He was almost sixteen, and the oldest one in the group. He was a little dense, but Sokka liked him okay, and knew that his father was a friend of Hakoda's.  "Did he tell you anything special about that?"

His eyes darted between Okue and Hahn, who was staring him down skeptically. "Ah, I don't know," said Sokka quickly.  "Why don't you tell me what you know, and I'll see if I've got anything to add."

"Okay," said Okue.  "I just know the basics:  they found this ghost town, you know? Totally deserted, like everyone just packed up and left.  They split up to look around, and no one found anything other than some empty houses, only your dad passed out."

"What?" asked Hahn, leaning forward.  "This I've got to hear."

Okue shrugged. "That's all I know," he said.  "They split up, and then they found the Chief's Second passed out in an alley."  He turned to Sokka.  "So did he tell you anything else?"

Sokka frowned. "No," he said slowly.  "He didn't."

Just then the door flap to the barracks was pulled back and Sergeant Bokta marched in, banging his handheld gong.

"Rise and shine, boys!" he shouted.  "Got a little surprise for you!"

There was a chorus of groans from the older boy's end of the barracks, and Paktu, who had lantern duty this week, went to light the rest of the barracks lights.

Sergeant Bokta made his way up and down the row of bunks, banging his gong, while Sokka and the others took advantage of their early start to get dressed and roll up their sleeping furs.

When everyone was assembled, Bokta hung his gong up by the doorway and turned to face the trainees. Sokka was expecting him to dress down the ones who hadn't gotten ready for the day's training neatly or quickly enough, and was kind of looking forward to it since it was going to be the older boys for once.  Instead, Bokta just stood there for a moment, looking almost  uneasy. Then he resumed his usual gruff sergeant's face and spoke to someone outside the door.

"Bring him in, Corporal."

A man Sokka didn't recognize came in, pushing the the Fire Nation prisoner from the feast in front of him.

"This," said Sergeant Bokta, "is Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.  Care to say hello, Your Royal Highness?"

The prisoner stared straight ahead, ignoring his surroundings.

"Apparently not," said Sergeant Bokta.  "Zuko here has been made a ward of the Tribe, due to the mercy of Princess Yue.  Since we don't have anywhere else to put him, he'll be staying with you boys. Keep an eye on him. He's not to practice any martial skills or so much as touch a weapon, and above all he is not to firebend, ever," he said, giving a sturdy shove to the Fire Nation prince, who somehow managed to keep his footing. Frowning slightly, Bokta turned to the prisoner.  "You know you have nowhere to escape to. It's frozen tundra on three sides of the city and even colder ocean on the other. Behave yourself and you'll be treated fairly."

The prisoner's hands were untied, and the corporal backed away from them.  Zuko just stood where he was, staring obstinately forward.

"Well," said Sergeant Bokta, "now that you've met your new barracks-mate, time for the morning run."

Yue had dismissed Katara from her duties for the day, supposedly to give her some time with her family.  Katara suspected that in reality, at least part of the reason was that Yue needed some time alone. In any case, Katara was relieved. Last night's events, both in the grand hall and in the storage room, were bothering her.

Hakoda was in meetings with the Chief until early that afternoon, and Katara spent the first half of the day with her grandmother, airing out her father's room and making a Southern-style late lunch. Sokka came home shortly after noon, and didn't even try to sneak a bite of fish stew. He paced back and forth in the main corridor of the house, between the front door and through the kitchen, grimacing on and off. When Katara couldn't stand the tension any longer, she demanded to know what was wrong.

"The Fire Nation prisoner is in my barracks," he said without stopping his pacing.

Katara nearly jumped guiltily as she recalled the boy she had healed the previous night. "W-What? Why?" asked Katara.

Sokka shrugged. "Apparently they don't have anywhere else to keep him.  At least this way he'll be watched."

Kanna, who was chopping saltwater parsley near the central fire, frowned.  "Katara told me what happened last night.  Princess Yue did the right thing, but I don't like this. I worry about you enough as it is, Sokka."

"What's this?" asked her father's voice from the doorway.  He crossed the room quickly to hug his mother and take a deep whiff of the stew.

"I hear they're keeping the prisoner in Sokka's barracks," said Kanna with a serious undertone.

Hakoda frowned and nodded. "I'll talk to the Chief about it," he said.  "And see what we can do."

"Enough about him," said Katara with forced brightness. She politely picked the spoon out from Kanna's hand and began filling the bowls. "This is supposed to be family time, and lunch is almost ready.  Why don't we talk about something else?" She smiled widely. "So Dad...what's this I hear about a ghost town?"

After lunch, Hakoda went into his sleeping room and returned with a heavy looking canvas bag. Smiling, he sat with his family.

"I've brought back something for you, Mother," he said to Kanna, and pulled out two metal cooking pots, highly valued in the Water Tribes, and an ornamental glass vase with a beautiful turquoise glaze.

"Are those from the Fire Nation?" Sokka asked eagerly. He leaned over Katara's shoulder to get a closer look.

Katara gave him an elbow to the ribs, which Sokka ignored.

"No," said Hakoda. "They're Earth Kingdom made, from a port we stopped at on the way home," he said and pulled out a bundle of folded maps. " As are these. For you, Sokka."

Sokka grabbed them, quickly undid the twine holding the maps together and unfolded the top one, smoothing it incessantly into his lap. "They're maps of the Earth Kingdom?" he asked without looking up.

"And the Fire Nation," added Hakoda.

"Nice," said Sokka with a quickly growing grin, and he began unfolding the other maps.

"And for Katara," Hakoda said, his smile stiffening, "I have two gifts."

The first was an Earth Kingdom story scroll, a retelling of the tale of Oma and Shu. The second was a misshapen wooden bowl with chipped white paint. It looked as though it were a stump of a tree with a rounded bottom and had been hollowed out by an amateur sculptor. She could hold it in two palms, one if she was careful, and it felt far lighter than it should have. The face of an animal she had never was carved in the bottom of the bowl, with feline features and a bird's beak. Katara traced the grooves along the bottom of the bowl.

"This is from the Southern Water Tribe, isn't it?" she asked reverently.

Hakoda gave a slight squeeze to Katara's shoulder and observed the bowl. "I can't be too sure," he said, and turned away. "We found it in the Fire Nation."

Kanna took her son's position beside Katara.

"Ah, it nearly looks like a seeing bowl," she said nodding.  "Probably a replica."

"A seeing bowl?" asked Katara.

"A tool," clarified Kanna, "for a very old Southern waterbending technique."  She gave Katara a sharp look.  "I'm fairly sure it's not real, but the old coot Master Pakku would probably take it away anyway. Don't let him see this. It's yours."

"Right," said Katara. She stared into the eyes at the bottom of the bowl, and for a moment, she thought they were staring back.

A/N:  Thanks once more to all of you for reading, and to temarixshikamaruluva for going above and beyond as a beta reader.

Description
The Seeing Bowl, Chapter Two:  Gifts

After spending days in near darkness, the light in the icy hallway burned Zuko's eyes. It didn't help that he had a nasty headache from whatever they'd sedated him with after his latest escape attempt. He had no idea why they had stopped forcing the sickly sweet concoction on him, but he doubted it was anything good. They probably wanted him to be fully aware when they executed him. Although his thoughts were no longer slow and syrupy, he still lacked the coordination to firebend without hurting himself, or even to fight hand-to-hand.

He was cold. They'd tried to force some Water Tribe clothes on him, but he'd refused to put them on. He had stopped shivering, and he wondered vaguely if he was developing frostbite. He'd never experienced it before, but he remembered Azula mentioning it as potential hazard for any long term siege against the Northern Water Tribe.

Zuko was half marched, half dragged through the curtains at the end of the hallway and into an even brighter chamber, then up onto a slightly elevated dais. Hundreds of blue eyes were staring up at him from their seats at the long tables. The scent of cooked meat and strange spices reached his nose. He'd been fed, but his stomach still rumbled at the thought of warm meat.

Zuko was being steered towards a group of people seated at a table a the end of the hall. He recognized a few of them. The Water Tribe Chief, who had come to inspect him once or twice, was there, as were several of the near-identical earthbenders who had guarded him. He also saw the tall Earth Kingdom official with the goatee. Zuko had only seen him once before, and he didn't want to recall that occasion. He nearly lost his footing as he dug is heels into the icy ground and struggled to walk under his own power rather than be dragged along. He was going to go to his death like the son of the Fire Lord should, with his head held high.

He expected to be brought before the chief, or the Earth Kingdom official, but instead he felt the blunt end of a spear against his back, forcing him to kneel at one end of the table, directly in front of a girl with striking white hair. Before one of the guards pushed his head down, he realized that she must have been close to his own age.

"To my daughter," said the chief, his voice echoing in the silent room, "I offer the son of Fire Lord Ozai and former crown prince of the Fire Nation as a prisoner to do her bidding."

Zuko opened his mouth to shout something, maybe a refusal, maybe a curse, but one of the guards clamped a hand over his mouth. He bit down, hard, and tasted blood. The guard yelped and pulled his wounded hand away, then cuffed him on the back of the head. Zuko bit down on his tongue to keep from wincing, and he felt dizzy for a few moments. He was sure that if it wasn't for the tight hold the guards had on both of his arms, he would have crumpled to the ground. Through his rage, Zuko could feel an angry howl building in his chest. He looked up into the eyes of the white-haired girl, and what he saw made him pause. Her face was blank, but her eyes were angry. She stood.

"Father, is this boy meant to be mine, to do with as I please?" she asked without taking her eyes off of the restrained prince.

The chief nodded. "As you please," he said.

"Then I free him."

Katara couldn't believe what she was hearing. Chief Arnook might not have said it outright, but he was making the Fire Nation prince a slave. That was unheard of. She knew from her weekly history lectures with Yue and the other young ladies that long ago there had been a practice of penal servantitude in the Water Tribe, but even that was regarded as a barbaric today. She looked at Yue with wide eyes.

Those who didn't know the princess well wouldn't have noticed the slight shift in Yue's posture, but Katara could see that she was already beyond being shocked. Yue had the stare of righteous anger that she only used when her people were being mistreated. She stood up, and Katara found herself feeling a little sorry for Chief Arnook. When Yue spoke in a cool voice and freed the Fire Nation Prince, the young waterbender cringed.

Even though it was nearly midnight when the feast ended, Katara had trouble getting to sleep. Her spacious room, which adjoined Yue's suite, seemed barren. The walrusbear bone chairs, which framed the pelt draped doors, looked like skeletal hands, and the fire in the stone hearth at the foot of her bed threw eerie shadows that shifted and swelled across the walls. It felt the same as when she had first been invited to sleep at the palace, too large and too empty of familiar faces. Finally, after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, she climbed out of her pile so furs, put on a pair of boots, and slipped through the main doorflap and into the palace hallways.

She wandered aimlessly, a small globe of glowing water hovering above one hand, until she found herself in the kitchen, alone with the cooling ovens.

The Fire Nation boy had been taken away without the chief indicating where he was to be kept, and there was nothing like a jail cell in the palace itself. Katara hesitated for a moment, and she was suddenly sure of where he was. She crossed to the storeroom and, water globe in hand, walked confidently toward the back of the room. When she reached the long brass dish, she turned in a slow circle and peered through the shadows. She inched forward and held out her water globe, allowing the gentle light to brighten the area.

"Hello?" she called. There was no answer, but Katara clearly heard something moving to her right. She walked determinedly towards it, cursing when she banged her shin on a box of crockery before continuing at a more reasonable pace. She soon came upon an over-sized steel cage that was tucked between walrusbear-bone shelves and beneath a group of damp nets. The cage was nearly a head taller than Katara and spanned the length of her arms, from fingertip to fingertip. It had a solid metal bottom and an open barred metal top that would allowed the water droplets from the drying nets to fall into the cage and occasionally strike the boy who was huddled in one corner. His even breathing indicated that he was asleep.

"Wake up," whispered Katara. He didn't move. She knelt down beside his sleeping form and repeated it, louder, and he still didn't move. She frowned slightly and reached through the cage bars to shake his shoulder, then pulled back skittishly when he stirred. She leaned forward again when the silence continued, and she was beginning to think he hadn't really woken up at all when he had been paraded at the feast.

"Go away." His voice was gravelly, and he sounded younger than she had imagined. Thinking back on the evening, she knew he had looked about Yue's age, but it was hard to think of a Fire Nation prince with an adolescent voice.

Katara didn't say anything, and she held out her water globe to get a better look at him. She tilted her head to the side. He didn't look like a monster, or the son of a monster. He looked like a sleepy teenager. He shifted slightly, and his straggly hair fell off to one side, revealing an angry bruise on the side of his forehead. It looked old.

"Go away, peasant," he hissed. He stood up with his knees bent and turned to glared down at her before he stumbled and grabbed one of the bars of his cage for support. His other hand clutched his forehead, and he grunted in pain. "Damn it!"

Katara grabbed the hand held that held the bar and pulled him up against the side of the cage, then tried to tug his head down by his hair.

"Let go!" yelled the boy.

"Be quiet," said Katara, and brought her globe closer to examine his bruise.

"I'll kill you," he muttered. "I'll kill all of you, and I'll melt your damn city and no one will remember any of you filthy peasants."

Katara narrowed her eyes at the bruise on his forehead and winkled her nose when a small trickle of blood fell from a cracked scab at his hairline. She should just leave. He didn't want her help, and he certainly didn't deserve her help. He was not just Fire Nation, he was the son of the Fire Lord. It didn't matter if he didn't look like a monster. He was a monster, and he deserved any punishment that he received.

She sat up on her knees, ready to head back to her quarters, and tore her eyes away from the disoriented Fire Nation prince. Her hold on him tightened, and she glared hard into the darkness. An uncomfortable lump formed in her throat. She couldn't let go of his arm.

She closed her eyes tightly before regarding the prince again. He was barely aware of her presence. Her lip gave a small quiver. Defeated, she reformed her globe into a glove around her hand and held it against his bruise. She ignored that she was healing the son of the man who was responsible for the murders of her mother and most of her tribe, and instead tried to concentrate on feeling the chi and blood flow through his body. There was a tangle of chi and reduced blood flow in part of his brain. They matched the descriptions Yugoda had given for lingering effects of concussions. Healing such damage was complicated, and Katara had only practiced on the carved chi paths of Yugoda's dummy. But she was almost certain that no one else would be foolish enough to heal the son of the Fire Lord. She scowled darkly when she felt a twinge of sympathy for the boy in front of her.

She went to work on his damaged tissue, but hesitated when her eyes locked with the Fire Nation boy.

Although he held mercifully still as she worked on his wounds, he still gripped the bars of his cage tightly and glared at her.

Katara wondered if she looked as angry as he did. She forced herself to tear her gaze away and continue healing. She refused to look towards his eyes again. It would drive her mad. He had no right to be so angry with her, and it was impossible that he hated her more than she hated him.

It took a good half hour, and when she was done, Katara was torn between satisfaction in her work and shame for helping a Fire Nation prince. The brain injury was fully healed, and there would be no lingering effects. She'd even gotten rid of the bruise, more out of habit than intention.

"You should be grateful. I'm not sure what you did to earn that, but I wouldn't do it again," she told the boy, avoiding his gaze. She turned away and crossed her arms over her chest. "There's no one else here who would heal you," she added bluntly, looking back over her shoulder.

He cautiously felt at the spot where the external injury had been and stared at the floor. Katara waited a few seconds to see if he would say or do anything, but he didn't, not until she had turned and started to walk away.

"Thank you."  It was grudging and quiet, but he said it.

Katara paused for a moment, then continued on her way without a response.

The day after the feast, the trainee warriors were allowed to sleep in a full two hours, but Sokka woke up at the usual hour despite his tiredness. He wasn't the only one. Most of the younger boys  -- the ones who hadn't been allowed more than one cup of ice wine -- were awake by the time the barracks gong rung in the seventh hour of the day. It was still dark outside, and this soon after the winter solstice, there wouldn't be light for hours, but Sokka was wide awake and still excited enough over his father's return that he didn't even think about going back to sleep. He huddled with some of the other boys near a dim oil lamp, talking rapidly about the warriors' return.

"My father says that on Ember Island, they found one of the Fire Lord's estates. He brought back a album full of portraits and stuff to prove it too. He's going to show me after training today," said Nomoak, who was in his second year of training, one ahead of Sokka.

"Pigbullshit," said Hahn.  He was the same age a Nomoak, and the son of a prominent shipbuilder. In Sokka's opinion, he was a self-absorbed show-off. "I won't believe it till I see it."

It was difficult to tell in the dim light, but Nomoak seemed to go red.  "I can't show you," he said.  "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, because the Chief wanted to give them to the Earth Kingdom guys."

Hahn snorted.  "I knew it."  He turned to Sokka, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation.  "What about your dad, Sokka?  From what the Chief said, he should have some great war stories."

Sokka turned slightly red himself. He couldn't say that his dad had refused to tell him about any of the battles.

After a moment of panic, he leaned his head back on his hands and shrugged nonchalantly. "Just the usual stuff," he said.  "We didn't really have a chance to talk strategy, what with the Chief wanting to talk to him."

"What about the ghost town?" asked Okue.  He was almost sixteen, and the oldest one in the group. He was a little dense, but Sokka liked him okay, and knew that his father was a friend of Hakoda's.  "Did he tell you anything special about that?"

His eyes darted between Okue and Hahn, who was staring him down skeptically. "Ah, I don't know," said Sokka quickly.  "Why don't you tell me what you know, and I'll see if I've got anything to add."

"Okay," said Okue.  "I just know the basics:  they found this ghost town, you know? Totally deserted, like everyone just packed up and left.  They split up to look around, and no one found anything other than some empty houses, only your dad passed out."

"What?" asked Hahn, leaning forward.  "This I've got to hear."

Okue shrugged. "That's all I know," he said.  "They split up, and then they found the Chief's Second passed out in an alley."  He turned to Sokka.  "So did he tell you anything else?"

Sokka frowned. "No," he said slowly.  "He didn't."

Just then the door flap to the barracks was pulled back and Sergeant Bokta marched in, banging his handheld gong.

"Rise and shine, boys!" he shouted.  "Got a little surprise for you!"

There was a chorus of groans from the older boy's end of the barracks, and Paktu, who had lantern duty this week, went to light the rest of the barracks lights.

Sergeant Bokta made his way up and down the row of bunks, banging his gong, while Sokka and the others took advantage of their early start to get dressed and roll up their sleeping furs.

When everyone was assembled, Bokta hung his gong up by the doorway and turned to face the trainees. Sokka was expecting him to dress down the ones who hadn't gotten ready for the day's training neatly or quickly enough, and was kind of looking forward to it since it was going to be the older boys for once.  Instead, Bokta just stood there for a moment, looking almost  uneasy. Then he resumed his usual gruff sergeant's face and spoke to someone outside the door.

"Bring him in, Corporal."

A man Sokka didn't recognize came in, pushing the the Fire Nation prisoner from the feast in front of him.

"This," said Sergeant Bokta, "is Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.  Care to say hello, Your Royal Highness?"

The prisoner stared straight ahead, ignoring his surroundings.

"Apparently not," said Sergeant Bokta.  "Zuko here has been made a ward of the Tribe, due to the mercy of Princess Yue.  Since we don't have anywhere else to put him, he'll be staying with you boys. Keep an eye on him. He's not to practice any martial skills or so much as touch a weapon, and above all he is not to firebend, ever," he said, giving a sturdy shove to the Fire Nation prince, who somehow managed to keep his footing. Frowning slightly, Bokta turned to the prisoner.  "You know you have nowhere to escape to. It's frozen tundra on three sides of the city and even colder ocean on the other. Behave yourself and you'll be treated fairly."

The prisoner's hands were untied, and the corporal backed away from them.  Zuko just stood where he was, staring obstinately forward.

"Well," said Sergeant Bokta, "now that you've met your new barracks-mate, time for the morning run."

Yue had dismissed Katara from her duties for the day, supposedly to give her some time with her family.  Katara suspected that in reality, at least part of the reason was that Yue needed some time alone. In any case, Katara was relieved. Last night's events, both in the grand hall and in the storage room, were bothering her.

Hakoda was in meetings with the Chief until early that afternoon, and Katara spent the first half of the day with her grandmother, airing out her father's room and making a Southern-style late lunch. Sokka came home shortly after noon, and didn't even try to sneak a bite of fish stew. He paced back and forth in the main corridor of the house, between the front door and through the kitchen, grimacing on and off. When Katara couldn't stand the tension any longer, she demanded to know what was wrong.

"The Fire Nation prisoner is in my barracks," he said without stopping his pacing.

Katara nearly jumped guiltily as she recalled the boy she had healed the previous night. "W-What? Why?" asked Katara.

Sokka shrugged. "Apparently they don't have anywhere else to keep him.  At least this way he'll be watched."

Kanna, who was chopping saltwater parsley near the central fire, frowned.  "Katara told me what happened last night.  Princess Yue did the right thing, but I don't like this. I worry about you enough as it is, Sokka."

"What's this?" asked her father's voice from the doorway.  He crossed the room quickly to hug his mother and take a deep whiff of the stew.

"I hear they're keeping the prisoner in Sokka's barracks," said Kanna with a serious undertone.

Hakoda frowned and nodded. "I'll talk to the Chief about it," he said.  "And see what we can do."

"Enough about him," said Katara with forced brightness. She politely picked the spoon out from Kanna's hand and began filling the bowls. "This is supposed to be family time, and lunch is almost ready.  Why don't we talk about something else?" She smiled widely. "So Dad...what's this I hear about a ghost town?"

After lunch, Hakoda went into his sleeping room and returned with a heavy looking canvas bag. Smiling, he sat with his family.

"I've brought back something for you, Mother," he said to Kanna, and pulled out two metal cooking pots, highly valued in the Water Tribes, and an ornamental glass vase with a beautiful turquoise glaze.

"Are those from the Fire Nation?" Sokka asked eagerly. He leaned over Katara's shoulder to get a closer look.

Katara gave him an elbow to the ribs, which Sokka ignored.

"No," said Hakoda. "They're Earth Kingdom made, from a port we stopped at on the way home," he said and pulled out a bundle of folded maps. " As are these. For you, Sokka."

Sokka grabbed them, quickly undid the twine holding the maps together and unfolded the top one, smoothing it incessantly into his lap. "They're maps of the Earth Kingdom?" he asked without looking up.

"And the Fire Nation," added Hakoda.

"Nice," said Sokka with a quickly growing grin, and he began unfolding the other maps.

"And for Katara," Hakoda said, his smile stiffening, "I have two gifts."

The first was an Earth Kingdom story scroll, a retelling of the tale of Oma and Shu. The second was a misshapen wooden bowl with chipped white paint. It looked as though it were a stump of a tree with a rounded bottom and had been hollowed out by an amateur sculptor. She could hold it in two palms, one if she was careful, and it felt far lighter than it should have. The face of an animal she had never was carved in the bottom of the bowl, with feline features and a bird's beak. Katara traced the grooves along the bottom of the bowl.

"This is from the Southern Water Tribe, isn't it?" she asked reverently.

Hakoda gave a slight squeeze to Katara's shoulder and observed the bowl. "I can't be too sure," he said, and turned away. "We found it in the Fire Nation."

Kanna took her son's position beside Katara.

"Ah, it nearly looks like a seeing bowl," she said nodding.  "Probably a replica."

"A seeing bowl?" asked Katara.

"A tool," clarified Kanna, "for a very old Southern waterbending technique."  She gave Katara a sharp look.  "I'm fairly sure it's not real, but the old coot Master Pakku would probably take it away anyway. Don't let him see this. It's yours."

"Right," said Katara. She stared into the eyes at the bottom of the bowl, and for a moment, she thought they were staring back.

A/N:  Thanks once more to all of you for reading, and to temarixshikamaruluva for going above and beyond as a beta reader.