They caught up with the Freedom Fighters by following the reports of highly-selective banditry. This time the welcome was a lot more cautious, and Smellerbee went up to talk with their leader for a long time before letting any of the gang near the hidden rope-ladders.
Katara had come prepared to fix what had been left undone under Lake Laogai. She hadn’t been prepared for this.
“Katara- Sokka, Aang. To what do I owe this honor?” Jet addressed them, casually sarcastic from his hammock. Avatar or no, diplomatic team or no, he was not getting up without help.
“We- that is, I wanted to apologize for leaving you. I hadn’t worn the spirit water and you told us to go and there was no time-“
“Forgiven, forgotten,” Jet waved away her apologies, though she knew this sort of thing had to stick with a person. He heaved himself upright with a grunt, grabbing a rope that had been set up for just such purposes, one hand coming to rest on his stomach. His smile was the same as ever, and Katara didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
“Why are you really here?”
“Three things. One- the Fire Nation banditry’s got to stop, and don’t feed me any crap this time. Two, we’re here with formal apologies from the new Fire Lord- he sent us specifically to you, with a note that boils down to his life’s blood belongs to other people, but if he could ever make things right with you, he would. Don’t ask me how he knows you,” though she was getting a nasty, sneaking suspicion.
Jet paused to rub at his lower back, and she could see the stretchmarks where his shirt rode up. That was not a result of his injuries.
“And the third?” he asked, eyebrows arched dangerously.
“Well- to heal you. You’ve got to be in pain- and the after-effects of surviving those kinds of injuries can be long and nasty…”
“I’m doing just fine, thanks,” he lied smoothly, and Sokka rolled his eyes. Aang just stood back with his staff held straight. “Just who is this new Firelord, to think he can apologize to me?”
Katara dug into her bag and pulled out the leaflet, one of many that was being distributed across the nations to announce the coronation and war’s ending. Her glance to the guys had them quietly backing out of the tree-house, and she smoothed the paper, offering it to Jet.
Aang held Sokka back when they started to hear things smashing amidst violent curses.
…
An hour or so later, they peeked by the door, and Longshot and Smellerbee were in the branches doing the same thing by the edges of the tarp roof.
Katara was sitting next to Jet in the hammock, cradling him like a ragged, broken doll, glowing hands running soothingly up and down his sides. He was leaning close, like he hadn’t done since his mother, and whispering something like “I wanted her, I wanted her…” He finally looked up, angry tears streaked hot on his face.
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timeasmymeasure
Zuko/Jet- Informing Jet his child is heir to the Fire Nation
Date: 2009-12-25 07:11 pm (UTC)Katara had come prepared to fix what had been left undone under Lake Laogai. She hadn’t been prepared for this.
“Katara- Sokka, Aang. To what do I owe this honor?” Jet addressed them, casually sarcastic from his hammock. Avatar or no, diplomatic team or no, he was not getting up without help.
“We- that is, I wanted to apologize for leaving you. I hadn’t worn the spirit water and you told us to go and there was no time-“
“Forgiven, forgotten,” Jet waved away her apologies, though she knew this sort of thing had to stick with a person. He heaved himself upright with a grunt, grabbing a rope that had been set up for just such purposes, one hand coming to rest on his stomach. His smile was the same as ever, and Katara didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
“Why are you really here?”
“Three things. One- the Fire Nation banditry’s got to stop, and don’t feed me any crap this time. Two, we’re here with formal apologies from the new Fire Lord- he sent us specifically to you, with a note that boils down to his life’s blood belongs to other people, but if he could ever make things right with you, he would. Don’t ask me how he knows you,” though she was getting a nasty, sneaking suspicion.
Jet paused to rub at his lower back, and she could see the stretchmarks where his shirt rode up. That was not a result of his injuries.
“And the third?” he asked, eyebrows arched dangerously.
“Well- to heal you. You’ve got to be in pain- and the after-effects of surviving those kinds of injuries can be long and nasty…”
“I’m doing just fine, thanks,” he lied smoothly, and Sokka rolled his eyes. Aang just stood back with his staff held straight. “Just who is this new Firelord, to think he can apologize to me?”
Katara dug into her bag and pulled out the leaflet, one of many that was being distributed across the nations to announce the coronation and war’s ending. Her glance to the guys had them quietly backing out of the tree-house, and she smoothed the paper, offering it to Jet.
Aang held Sokka back when they started to hear things smashing amidst violent curses.
…
An hour or so later, they peeked by the door, and Longshot and Smellerbee were in the branches doing the same thing by the edges of the tarp roof.
Katara was sitting next to Jet in the hammock, cradling him like a ragged, broken doll, glowing hands running soothingly up and down his sides. He was leaning close, like he hadn’t done since his mother, and whispering something like “I wanted her, I wanted her…” He finally looked up, angry tears streaked hot on his face.
“She stays with me.”