Avatar : Chapter 41

"Lovely", I say and move to the balcony, drawing mist about myself. "You'll get him back once the troops have laid off on their assault and the resistance is safely out of reach."

...

At the moment, there is little point returning to the others. If they are losing the fight, one more waterbender will hardly make a difference in an environment where groundwater is sparse and the mist has already been burned away by the sun. There is something else I might be able to do once the baby calms down a little and has had something to eat. My stomach grumbles. It appears, I should eat, too.

The palace kitchens aren't hard to find and lo and behold, there is an entire cupboard dedicated to babyfood. The cooks eye me warily and even though they have the Fire Nation's colouring don't seem to mind me whipping up some sustenance for the two of us. It might be one of those moments where they weren't informed of any deals their master has made, but since I don't appear to be a fugitive and am only cooking, they figure I'm allowed inside.

They do seem rather weary of me, though. It might be the mask, it might be my obviously-watertribe garb, it might be the half-healed burn on my shoulder. The wound pulls and stings with every movement.

I take a bowl from the stack that are probably meant for the soldiers to eat out of, gather water from the trough that is filled by a continuous trickle through a deliberate-looking opening in the wall and sit down. The baby is still in my lap and is patiently waiting for the food to heat up. He also watches fascinatedly, along with every other person present, how I heal my shoulder.

Someone gasps. I look up and without my notice, the majority of them have gathered around me in a non-threatening half-circle. They all wear various expressions of awe and disbelief.

"What?", I ask in a flat voice, just to see if they will cower. Most do, but a few women remain standing. Odd. But then again, all the men are barely pubescent boys. They were probably born to this and have become used to cowering at hearing that tone of voice. Actually, don't the Fire Nation treat their servants like slaves? Azula does, doesn't she? What about nobility? Do the servants work for money?

"You can heal", an elderly woman states. It is probably meant to sound like a fact, but awe colours her tone.

I shrug my shoulders, glad I can use both for the motion now. "Waterbender."

More gasps and a few of the younger ones take a step back. What kinds of stories are they told? My disapproval must show because some of them step forward again. Or it's defiance of their own fears.

To see how they react to bending that isn't healing, I bend a tendril of the thick soup I've thrown together for the baby and myself. I watch them closely as I swallow down the soup. At first glance, it appears harmless, but I can see exactly who understands that what I can bend outside of my body, I can bend inside, too. They are the woman who spoke earlier and one of the boys. Smart one, that. I wonder why he's not being made into a soldier. I figure an expanding Nation such as the Firelord's would not dismiss intelligence from their ranks.

The soup is just warm enough to be perfect for the baby. I begin the game of feeding him with dragons and the like.

None of them step away, but both the woman and the boy stare at me closely like they think they can read my mind if they only try hard enough. Once the little brat is fed, I manipulate the earlier healing water into mist, watch all of them recoil a little and get my own bowl of hot soup. I watch them watch me with more than a little amusement.

"You have questions", I prompt. Which is something I'm not usually prone to, but I need to see what these people value. I need to see if they can be convinced of the fact that the people they conquer aren't inherently weak, or somehow lesser than they.

The woman nods and takes a seat across from me. "Who are you?"

"I'm from the Northern Watertribe", I contemplate adding my name, but decide on something else, "I've been teaching the Avatar."

She stiffens at the mention and I watch her expression closely. Her mistrust has grown. But her want for information doubly so. I don't believe she's only a cook. She probably knows everything that goes on in the palace. She's the kind of person I'll be needing on my side of the revolution.

"The Avatar", she begins carefully, "They say he is the one who disappeared a hundred years ago."

This seems like news to most of the others. Interesting.

"Aang is only twelve years old."

Her eyes narrow. "Is he the same one?"

I don't stiffen or change my expression. I gauge and watch. "I've never asked him. But he is an airbending Master."

The boy from earlier nods at the confirmation that it is. The woman gives a tight smile. She knows that I could be blatantly lying. She's in an interesting position. There is no one else here to tell her what to think. She gets to ask her own questions and has to sort through my answers by herself.

"They don't speak about the defeat at the North Pole. Was it entirely the Avatar who sunk most of the fleet?", she is rather well-informed. Or she understands the value of me believing she is and has the skills to make it a plausible conclusion to come to.

I smile even though she can't see it behind my mask. My eyes crinkle, though. "Although he gave us what we needed to win, the Avatar did not take direct action in the battle until he sufficiently communicated with the Spirits in the Spiritworld."

Her eyes narrow while various sharp inhales can be heard throughout the kitchen. I would really like to take a look at the syllabus they employ in the Fire Nation. Of course, Spirits are to be feared, mostly, but while they can be dangerous and full of trickery, there are those who are genuinely good.

"Is the Avatar here to free King Bumi?"

Ah, they fear for their livelihood. While the resistance is outside of the city, their powerful King is still within and a threat looming over their heads. "Yes. He has partially succeeded."

"What?", the boy bursts out.

I cast him a wry look. He shrinks back a little, but not by much. "King Bumi and the Avatar have left Omashu."

"It's New Ozai now!", a girl pipes up.

I can't hold back the chuckle. "Sure it is, sweetheart."

She just looks confused at that. Like whatever has been decreed by her ruler is automatically the truth. I stroke my hand over the soft hair on the brat's head with a sigh. "I don't know how it is in the Fire Nation, but the Watertribe has a long memory. So do the people of the Earth Kingdom, except for Ba Sing Se."

"What about Ba Sing Se?", the woman asks immediately. I'm not sure about saying too much. She will probably have contacts to tell her what goes on there if she asks the right questions.

"The Dai Li is dangerous in more than one way", I say cryptically, but I can see understanding flash in her eyes. So she knows of the secret agents. And now she knows to be wary for more reasons than the fact that they are secret agents.

"Dai Li?", the boy asks, confused. I remain silent and nod my head at her. He should ask that woman. They can hardly trust a word I say in the first place.

Instead of explaining, the woman suddenly demonstratively looks at the baby in my lap. "Is he your hostage?"

"Mmh", I hum in amused agreement. She is smart. By making it seem that she knows things that could be potentially useful for the others to know, I have slightly undermined her position. Now she needs to show them that I am dangerous and not to be trusted to protect herself.

"Are you allowed to be in the palace?"

"How else would we have negotiated?", I ask and just this once, I think she has fallen for a trick like that. Maybe threatening her position did the trick to diverting part of her mind to the task of damage control.

"Is it wise to stay? We could attempt to take him from you", she suggests, even though she knows their chances are very, very low.

While I decide on what to say, the brat has made up his mind on breaking his silence since we left his mother behind. "Ba!", he says and slaps his chubby hands on my collarbones.

I poke his nose with some quickly bended water from the trough. He giggles and attempts to catch it, but it turns into mist as he reaches it and becomes liquid again once he flails with a wriggle of my fingers. Her gaze has impossibly softened at the display. That was suspiciously good timing. Either this baby has superpowers for being convenient for me, or he can read the mood and make decisions that an adult would…

Am I being paranoid? Is it that because I know what it's like to be an adult in a child's body that I'm projecting?

I'll have to ask. Later. And consider the possibilities later. Once I'm out of this kitchen-conversation. Spirits.

Something occurs to me. "Is it true that none of your benders lead peaceful lives unless they're too old to go to war?"

The woman looks at me like I'm an idiot. That answers that, I suppose.

"What, were you a fisherman before you went with the Avatar?", one of the younger women jokes.

I shrug. "I could've been. As a waterbending Master it is my duty to defend my city, but beyond that I'm not obligated to do anything beyond helping the elders cross a canal."

That shocks them all into silence. I'm not sure if it's because I can do what I want, or if I just don't seem the type to help someone over a canal. "But what do you do for a living, then?", the woman sitting across from me asks.

My eyebrows climb up my forehead, "Depends. The Northern Watertribe is a community. We help each other out."

None of them know what to do with that. To be honest, I don't either.

...

Don't forget to throw some power stones :)

...

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