Shadows and Morning Light
Chapter 8 – Finish It

It was growing colder by the day, granted, colder in the Fire Nation was nothing like that of the Water Tribes. Nevertheless, it was better than the constant stifling heat that hung over the nation like thick dense blanket. This was one of the most humid years the Fire Nation ever experienced. It was common for a dry heat to stale the air, but thick moisture was somewhat out of place. Katara brushed a few loose hairs from her sticky forehead. It was considerably cooler, but the humidity was almost too much to handle. She carefully lifted herself from her place against the overgrown tree by the turtle-duck pond. Not even the turtle-ducks left the shelter of the cool water and reeds on this muggy day. It was overwhelming. Katara groaned as she regained her balance. Everything hurt and the pressure on her ankles made them swell and the weight she’d gained was beginning to take its toll on the rest of her joints and muscles.

She walked into the palace, a cool air swept across her face in pleasant greeting. She smiled lightly and closed her eyes, taking in the familiar temperature for just a moment, letting it chill her rosy hot cheeks. With a sigh, she continued down the hall. The entire palace was redecorated over the course of a few years, it was more than red and gold on every surface as hues of blues and greens and orange graced the walls, floors, and ceiling décor. It was beautiful, lively even. Iroh was proud of the changes, to say the least. Katara was happy to see her native colors on a daily basis. She missed home, her grandmother who all but raised her and Sokka, her father who was there as much as he could be during war times, and occasionally she missed Sokka but he had the uncanny tendency to show up for prolonged amounts of time. She suspected it was to make sure Zuko hadn’t done anything else to her, besides the obvious. Katara smiled and placed a hand on her active belly where a small hand or foot, she couldn’t be sure which, pushed out against her. The baby was active and warm. Her lips turned down just slightly, she knew well that the child would be a firebender like its father. She shifted her attention to the door she stopped in front of and slowly moved her hand over her belly, following the movements of the unborn infant.

Katara opened the door to the library. Looking around quickly, she noticed the vacancy. Zuko was still in a meeting. They grew longer as the days passed. The council was all but thrilled about the closing in of her due date and did what they could to protest the child’s legitimacy and place as heir. It kept him busy; sometimes too busy. She sighed and carefully lowered herself into the chair at the desk. At least it was cool in this room. She needed a moment to regain her strength. Shutting her eyes, she tilted her head back. The due date seemed impossibly far away. With another heavy sigh, she opened her head and looked around the desk. Her eye caught sight of something out of place. A small bit of a ribbon was caught in the top drawer. It was yellow. It was signature of Aang. She pulled open the drawer to see a half unrolled scroll. Katara picked it up and spread it out across the table. His handwriting was terrible.

Her eyes scanned over the page, once and then twice. Her breath caught in her throat and the only thing she felt was the constant tumbling of her bulging stomach. Time caught up, her heart pounded in her ears and a thick sweat formed across her brow, clammy and uncomfortable. She pushed it away with the back of her hand. There in the letter, her closest friend wrote of a disease threatening the world and worst of all, threatening himself. Katara’s brow pushed together as she quickly rolled the paper up and loosely tied the ribbon around it. In an instant she was up and walking fiercely through the hall. Well, as fierce as she could which was more like a steady wobble and an angry face. That was enough to get her point across, though. It was dishonorable to interrupt a meeting but unlike every other member of the Fire Nation, she was not obsessed with retaining her honor. It was more like a pastime for a great number of Fire Nation people. She rounded the corner and her eyes locked onto her target. There, unknowingly, Zuko stood somewhat passively arguing with a councilman in a post-meeting disagreement. He rolled his eyes and dropped his posture only slightly at what appeared to be a ridiculous comment made by the councilman.

“Zuko,” Katara called in a bitter tone as she closed the space between her position and where he stood chatting. He looked over, confused slightly by the underlying rage in her voice. The councilman backed away quickly, having met the short end of Katara’s wrath once before and knew better than to stick around when she was in a fit.

“Is everything alright?” Zuko turned, facing her with concern.

“Are you kidding?” She asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

“What’s wrong?” He spoke gently, trying to ease her temper.

“How long have you known about this?” She held up the scroll, “Why didn’t you tell me Aang was in trouble? Didn’t you think this was important?”

Zuko waited, guilt filling his face.

“You know, of all people, I thought you would know how much Aang means to me!” She turned around and took one step forward before being stopped. She looked down at the hand wrapped around hers, and then yanked it away, “Leave me alone!”

“Katara,” Zuko found his voice, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just couldn’t tell you and make you worry.”

“Excuse me?” She whipped around.

“What can I do to make it up to you?” He asked quietly.

“Make it up to me? What if Aang is sick, or hurt? What if this spreads? How can you make this up to me? You hid it from me!” She was turning hysterical.

“Katara, calm down,” He took hold of her shoulders, a mistake.

“Calm, I’m perfectly calm!” She pushed him back with as much force as she could muster.

“Careful!’ Zuko regained his balance and glared at her. She was on his last nerve, and from what it seemed, she was going to push him off the edge.

“Careful? Like you have room to talk,” She huffed, “You decided to be so careful and not tell me about something that could kill me. Good job, Zuko. You’re a real hero.”

He gritted his teeth, reminding himself that she didn’t mean it, “Katara, I’m just trying—

“Trying to do what? Keep this nation safe? Protect Aang? Protect me?” Her breathing grew short, racing, and ragged. Her cheeks were flushed and a sweat was forming.

“Katara,” A strike of panic entered his voice as he looked her over, noting the changes, “Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not, Zuko. You lied to me and kept this from me!” She waved the scroll in front of him twice and then her arm fell limp at her side. Katara looked down at her numb arm and in that pause she noticed her breathing was strained. Her eyes narrowed, glaring at her somewhat useless arm. She suddenly felt exhausted and a pain shot up her back, “Uh, oh.” She muttered.

“What?” Zuko took a step forward.

“Uh, oh…” She said a little louder, putting a hand on her stomach. Another pain raced her spine.

Zuko’s back straightened, “No, don’t say that.”

“This is bad.” She took a deep breath, the pain returned for a just a split second, “This is too early.”

“I know.” Zuko said quickly, putting an arm around her and keeping her from crashing to the floor.

--

Aang landed on the small island. It took him considerably longer than he expected to actually find it. After several trips to the tree of life, he finally figured out where he could find Xibalba. He looked around, scanning the terrain. The entire area was covered in a thick dingy green fog. The trees were twisted and hanging sadly in long arches. The vines were like raggedy clothes strung from branch to branch, dripping with soupy muck. Not a single creature called out from the island’s depth. It was a hostile silence. Aang took a wary step forward and checked the ground. It was solid but only small patches seemed to grow any underbrush. An odor hung in the strangled air; something putrid and rotting. He gagged as he took in the aroma. His eyes tearing as he covered his mouth and nose. It was an awful smell. Kyoshi had not misinformed him that this was the island of all things not living. He ventured into the depths of the island, over the rotting trees and decaying remnants of an island.

He stopped. There before him in the center of the island, just as in the center of the great swamp, stood a lone tree towering high above the others and seemed to be the host and mother tree to all others around. He took a hesitant step forward. Something felt amiss as he moved closer to the tree. A strange wind seemed to swirl around the tree, howling and then whispering. Aang stepped into it. He shut his eyes as he took in the sounds. They were voices that called out. Though they were clearly voices, he strained to try to understand what they said. With no success he stepped forward. An eerie feeling raced up his spine. The tree loomed in front of him. Aang took just a few steps closer and reached out. A spark jumped between the bark and his fingers and pulled his hand against the tree.

Just as before, he was thrown viciously into the Avatar State. His body collapsed against the tree, tattoos fully aglow. On the other side, his eyes opened and he felt stiff, uncomfortable. Looking around, he immediately noticed something wrong about the scene. It was dark, something he’d never seen in the Spirit World before. Aang stood up and dusted himself off. The odor lingered in this air as well. He gagged once again and then looked around the dark Spirit World he’d travelled to with a strange feeling coursing through his veins. His eyes narrowed and strained to see beyond a few feet. A pattern of movements caught his attention. Aang walked towards it. The movements took shape and form. They looked like weary wanders. Aang stopped. One by one, they walked down a path to what appeared to be a tree like the one on the island. The weary wanders climbed on top of one another and then to the top of the tree. Some collapsed and hung limp over each other, adding to the sad look of the tree. Aang swallowed hard and ran towards the tree, ahead of the wanders.

He skidded to a halt at the base of the tree. The weary wanders wrapped tightly around a center piece. Aang squinted, “Gaia?” His voice was the only sound in the dark Spirit World.

The weary wanders stopped. The tree seemed to tremble as it parted ever so slightly and a long, sad face peeked out from between the wander-made trunk, “Who has called for me?” He asked in a heartrending voice.

“Aang,” He replied and then quickly added, “I’m the Avatar. I was looking for you.”

“You have made a mistake, young Avatar.” Gaia said quietly, “You have left the world of the living and entered the world of the lost.”

“I know why you’re here, and I think I can help you.” Aang ignored the speech.

“Do you know?” Gaia asked suspiciously, “Do you know my failures? I could not bring happiness to my most beloved, and so I am here.”

“No, you just didn’t think things through. Sometimes you have to have a plan.” Aang said confused, “You can’t just chase after something without a plan.”

“This is my flaw, and so I suffer.” Gaia lamented wearily.

“So you’re just giving up?” Aang asked, dumbfounded by the spirit’s hopelessness.

“I have existed for all time and will always exist. I know well my place and it is in sorrow for I have failed my greatest love.” He all but wept.

“Have you really lost all hope?” Aang took a step back, “I’m the Avatar. You and Issi created the Avatar Spirit so that you might be together again one day. And now I’m here. Doesn’t that give you any hope?”

“The Avatar is the only thing that gives me hope.” Gaia sighed.

Aang frowned and sat down, cross legged, on the ground and stared up at the ancient spirit before him, “You’re never happy, are you?”

“Of course not,” Gaia shrugged weakly.

“You know, you remind me a lot of my friend. Maybe you know him,” Aang offered with a returned shrug, “Firelord Zuko.”

Gaia perked up, “He is the Firelord?” He glanced away, “I heard many things of him. He is promising. Has he served his nation well?” Gaia eyed the young Avatar.

“I guess. He’s not perfect, but he works with what he has and complains a lot about everything.” Aang smiled at the thought. Then his attention returned to the spirit, “Wait, how have you heard about him?”

“Upon my limbs, rest his beloved cousin, Lu Ten.” Gaia glanced up at the deformed branches of the tree he’d become over time.

“I didn’t know he had a cousin.” Aang mused.

“He passed before your journeys over the world.” Gaia said quietly.

“You know a lot about everything that’s happened.” Aang noted.

“I know only what the lost spirits know.” Gaia glanced around the weary wanders lined up and waiting to join the tree, “There are many, and the room is growing smaller.”

“I’m not surprised.” Aang said quickly, “There’s a disease that’s been killing a lot of people. It’s spreading really fast.” Aang looked up from his lap, “That’s why I came here. I was told you were spreading this.”

Gaia stared off, “Issi…”

“What?” Aang stood up.

“Issi…” He said again, quieter, and turned away.

“Gaia, wait, I have to stop this! I have to save the world!” Aang begged as he started to retreat back into the tree.

“You cannot stop this, and I am not the cause.” He said mournfully, “Issi is…”

“Gaia…” Aang stepped forward, “Gaia, what’s going on here?”

“You left your body in the other world and you are trapped here as a spirit young Avatar.” Gaia said quietly.

“What!” Aang jumped.

Gaia’s frown deepened, “But I cannot let this be, for you are the Avatar and Issi is…” He trailed off, his eyes fogging over for just a moment and then he jutted forward, “You must go to the tree of life and save her!” He cried out.

“I’ve already been there, there’s nothing there.” Aang said in confusion.

“She’s there, you must save her!” Gaia’s hands broke free and reached out, grabbing Aang by the shoulders.

With that, quick flashes of unfamiliar images shot across Aang’s eyes and he was thrown out of the Avatar State as violently as he entered. He gasped for air but was greeted with the petrified air racing in his lungs and bringing him to a desperate hack. He stood up, catching his breath, on wobbling legs and raced to the shore. He skidded to a halt and his voice escaped him as he stared in awe at Appa, standing leg deep in water just feet away. Toph stood directly between them with her arms folded. She looked worse. Her skin was clammy with fever, “Look, I know you’re just trying to do what’s right for me, and you’re trying to protect me, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not getting any better.” She looked down at her feet. A strange blush spread across her cheeks and gave a faint color to her skin, “And I miss you.” Her voice was off. The disease had progressed considerably since he left her on Kyoshi Island. It was a wonder she could stand.

“I’ve missed you too, Toph.” He threw his arms around her and hugged her tight, “I’m going to make you better, and I think I know how. You just have to hold on.”

She hugged him in return as strong as she could for as frail as she’d become, “I’m not scared, Aang.”

“I know…” He said quietly, resting his head upon hers.

--

It seemed like forever. It was too long, much too long. If time hadn’t stopped, it surely felt as though it did. Zuko stared at the apex of the ceiling and wall. It was the only way to pass the time, to watch the slow creeping movements of the shadows as they bled down the wall. Iroh opened the door and stepped out, saying something to the nurse in a voice so quiet it stopped at the door as just a low rumble from his throat, catching his nephew’s attention. He stared up at his uncle, not saying a word, but his uncertain frown told the old man enough. “Everything will be fine.” Iroh said with a strange smile painted on his features, shutting the door as he stepped into the hallway. Zuko’s eyes followed him as he walked to the window and looked out, eyes glittering brighter than he’d ever seen before. Though he’d never admit it, he was dependent on the old man. He was more than just a father to him; he was also his mentor and friend. Iroh smiled into the bright sunlight, “Stress can be very powerful sometimes.”

“What?” Zuko asked quietly.

“This was just a false labor.” Iroh said in a lower voice.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Zuko put his head in his hands. He could barely handle this, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of it happening again and not stopping.

“She’ll be fi—

‘Where is she?’ Sokka yelled as he hurried up the hall. Suki wasn’t far behind. After the engagement ceremony they all returned to the Fire Nation. Sokka insisted it was a good thinking place, but Zuko knew he was just worried about his little sister. Suki couldn’t leave his side and so she came along.

“She’s fine, Sokka.” Zuko’s shoulders slumped.

“Fine, you call this fine?” Sokka pointed at the door frantically.

“Sokka, calm down,” Suki tenderly put her hands on his shoulders trying her best to ease his nerves.

“How can I calm down? Look what his little demon child did to my sister!” Sokka shot a glare at the young Firelord.

“What did you just say?” Zuko jumped to his feet. Those were fighting words.

“If you didn’t get her pregnant, that little demon wouldn’t be doing this to her!” Sokka stared him down.

“What’s you’re problem? One minute you’re my friend and the next you’re bringing this up again!” Zuko gestured from one side to the other as though it were two different people he was describing.

Sokka backed up. His face changed several times as he thought about it. He shook his head and then looked up at his friend apologetically, “I’m sorry Zuko. It’s just that, she’s my baby sister,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “and I guess I feel like I need to protect her and when things like this happen…you know, with the baby, I can’t help myself. I just sort of blame you…” He looked away embarrassed.

“Are you going to keep blaming me for everything when the baby’s born?” Zuko folded his arms, “What if the baby falls down, or gets sick, are you going to take it out on me again?”

Sokka frowned; the guilt seemed to form around him like a cloud. “I’m sorry Zuko.” The older boy sneered and sat back down, trying to keep his temper at bay. Sokka took a deep breath and sat down next to him, “So…Katara said you wanted it to be a girl…” He said somewhat uncomfortably.

Zuko glanced over and then back to the floor, “Yeah…”

“Aren’t you afraid if it’s a girl, she’ll turn out like Azula?” Sokka slowly looked over at him. Zuko looked at him with a mixed expression, somewhere between annoyed and offended, “Not to say you’ll be a bad father, I’m just saying, with your family history and all…”

Zuko rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the floor. He wasn’t one to talk much about his feelings, “I understand, Sokka.” He thought it over for a moment, “If it’s a girl,” Zuko smiled a little at the thought, “I don’t think she’d turn out like my family…” He trailed off, his cheeks a little rosy.

Sokka grinned, “Oh, I get it,” he elbowed Zuko, “you think she’ll be just like Katara.”

Zuko smiled, then a thought darted through his mind and he tilted his head a little, “Well, maybe not exactly like her.”

“Uh huh,” Sokka folded his arms, “You want her to be a firebender don’t you?”

“We already know it’s a firebender.” Zuko said plainly. It was a few months back when Katara made a passing comment that she felt warm. Then he noticed it. Her stomach was considerably warmer from time to time. It was a signature trait of a firebender. For one reason or another, they were warmer than other babies. Iroh told them about when Ursa was pregnant with Zuko. It was nearly the end of the pregnancy before she even noticed a temperature change. Iroh often teased his brother that Zuko would be a stubborn and rebellious child. Iroh jokingly blamed it on Ozai frequently complaining that his first child would be a let down since there were no yet signs of him being a firebender. Iroh could have never been more right. A little part of Zuko wondered what the old man expected this child to be like but he dared not ask for fear of what he might say.

“Right, I forgot about that whole bending thing.” Sokka wiggled his fingers dramatically.

“Well, I think this is exciting.” Suki added in.

“Exciting…” Zuko said melancholy.

“What’s wrong?” Suki sat down on the other side of the Firelord.

“I don’t know if I can do this…” Zuko put his hands over his face, “I can hardly deal with this.” He extended one hand in the direction of the door.

“Everything will be fine. Don’t worry so much, Zuko.” Suki patted his shoulder.

“Yeah, everything’s going to be great.” Sokka said a little too enthusiastically, “Iroh’s going to be a great-uncle,” he jutted his thumb towards the old man who just smiled and rolled his eyes. That was enough to confirm his excitement, “you’re going to be a father, and you’ll have an heir,” Sokka cringed slightly at the mere thought, “I’m going to be an uncle, and Suki and I are getting married in three months!” The last part he announced proudly.

“Sokka,” She leaned around Zuko with a scornful glare, “You weren’t suppose to tell anyone until tonight!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll act surprised.” Zuko shrugged and stood up as the door opened. His focus already shifted to the door. Katara stepped out with a bright smile. She was still just as pregnant as before but at least the color returned to her face.

“Everything’s okay.” She spoke softly as Zuko wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. He softly kissed her temple, “Everything except this,” she stepped back from him and he felt his heart sink ever so slightly as she held up the forsaken scroll, “Are you going to explain what exactly is going on here?”

--

Hakoda yawned as the councilman spoke. The meetings were boring, but he insisted on being there. Of course, Zuko also insisted on Katara being within eyeshot at all times after the false labor, so it made sense that Hakoda would be in the throne room during a meeting. It also kept Katara informed which made her happy, and if she was happy that made Zuko happy because it meant they wouldn’t have to relive another false labor. He dreaded the very thought of it. Granted, however, he’d rather go through that again than deal with her anger when she discovered something he either decided not to tell her or forgot to tell her about.

The councilman cleared his throat and continued his discussion, “And as for my last issue of interest…” He glanced at Hakoda, then Sokka and Suki, and last he eyed Katara who sat to the side of the Firelord, “I understand this is not the best time for this, but there are rising concerns about the expected child…” He gritted his teeth as he chose his words carefully. The attention of everyone shifted between Zuko and the councilman. A thick tension filled the air.

“Dismissed,” Zuko muttered, bored with the councilman.

“I beg you’re pardon, Sir, but this issue is pressing.” The councilman urged.

“Pardoned, and dismissed,” Zuko sighed, slightly irritated. The flames flickered in response.

“Sir, again, I beg pardon, but I doubt your judgment of the pertinence of this matter at hand. The entire nation is talking about it, and many are not satisfied.” The councilman spoke boldly.

“Pardoned,” Zuko spoke swiftly, eyes narrowing. The other councilman whispered to one another. Iroh looked over at his nephew. This was certainly no way to rule over a nation, to let his judgment be called into question. Zuko lifted his chin, “Councilman, what exactly are they saying?”

“There are many that are not pleased by this child.” He said quickly.

“Why?” Zuko spoke with toxicity in his question.

“It is not a child of the Fire Nation,” his eyes momentarily darted around at the Water Tribe people, “It’s not, what we’d call...a legitimate heir.”

“Does it matter who the mother is, councilman?” Zuko asked sharply, “The war’s been over for a long time now.”

“Sir, the Avatar has taught us that the four nations are separate but equal and that is how they are to remain. Four separate and equal nations,” he said full of pride.

Zuko rolled his eyes, “I know that, but I think you missed the point. Avatar Aang also said the four elements are not separate but are all joined and bound to each other. And although there are four nations, they are all equal and that makes them one. His point was that no single nation should be greater than any other nation.”

“This doesn’t justify what you did!” The councilman flared.

Zuko narrowed his eyes, though he didn’t move, the flames jumped and danced higher to the ceiling, “What happened can’t be justified by rules and laws. I wouldn’t try to say it could be justified. What matters now, is that we understand the significance of this. We’re striving for peace, and yet you challenge it by bringing into question the legitimacy of my child.”

The council fell silent. It was the first time Zuko named the child as his in this way.

“I beg your pardon.” The councilman bowed and waited. A long silence fell over the room. Zuko’s temper remained flared and his eyes were narrowed.

He took a deep breath as the councilman turned his eyes up towards him warily, “Sir?”

“Dismissed,” Though he spoke quietly, the word echoed through the room as the fires died down.

“Yes sir.” The councilman sat down. The council remained silent still as well. Zuko was well known to be more forgiving than any other Firelord preceding him, but he remained strong. Often the council would push him to his limits but they would be forgiven. This was the first time since he became Firelord that he did not forgive a councilman and the discussion about the unborn child was closed and final.

--

Appa landed at the center tree of the swamp. Toph was asleep. The disease was hard on her and she couldn’t help but sleep for most of the day. Aang glanced back at her and then jumped from Appa’s head. The sunlight was fragmented as it came down through the trees. He sighed and stared at the thick trunk. Over time, he’d learned a lot from this swamp. They were all things he could have never learned on his own, and if he had, he would be an old man by the time he understood it. The entire swamp was shroud in mystery. Aang took a deep breath and took a final glance back at where Toph slept on Appa’s saddle. He sighed and looked back to the tree, facing another part of his destiny as Avatar, “I have to do this…I have to finish it…” He whispered and extended his arm, fingers just a breath away from the rough surface.