ZUTARA WEEK 2010: Day 6: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Defying Discord

Disclaimer: Avatar: the Last Airbender belongs to Bryke, but Zutara week belongs to all Zutarians.

NOTE: This feels a lot like last year's "CROSSOVER" but whatever. I felt dismayed when I read this because I just finished a long, multi-chaptered Zutara story.

(Shameless plug: "Destiny Diverted", a LOTR/ZUTARA story)

And I was fresh out of AU ideas when something hit me. This is going to be really weird and maybe a bit silly but I've seen worse done with such a theme. I hope you like it. It won't be too long so don't worry. I'm pressed for time and I am doing this in between reviewing for several major exams. I didn't want to miss a single day of Zutara week, and such is my commitment. Sleep and rest be damned.

Here is a Zutara/Iliad crossover. Because I like classical literature. But I am no Homer so forgive the poor writing. It's also my first attempt writing from the perspectives of the various characters from Greek mythology. You can probably tell those whom I like the least.

Enjoy the weirdness, nevertheless.

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"The gods have sent us a great gift," King Agamemnon told his troops as they gathered that night, "for even as our powerful soldier, Achilles, sulks and languishes in his tent, stubbornly refusing to contribute to the war effort, a new weapon has been sent to us, a new champion."

At this a loud cheer was heard from the army, from brave soldiers who were tiring of the constant fighting. They were eager for the seemingly interminable war to end, so that they could all return home to their kingdoms and their families. Too much time had been spent waiting by the walls of Troy and still the city had not fallen.

Several attempts had been made to win the war, including a duel between King Menelaus and Prince Paris, which the former had fairly won. But there were some gods on the side of the Trojans and the conflict remained unresolved.

"Who is this new champion?" one of the kings asked of the leader, "and what are his powers?"

"Shall he be able to surpass Achilles himself?" another inquired.

However, Agamemnon shook his head mysteriously.

"Forgive me but I do not know," the king replied, "the new soldier was brought to us in the dead of night, escorted by the god Hermes. He has been hidden from us since his arrival and we have been forbidden to speak to him."

"Then, how do we know that he shall truly fight for us?" the others asked.

"We cannot doubt the words of the messenger god," Agamemnon answered, "for he assured us that this new champion has been chosen by Poseidon himself, and has come from a distant and wondrous land."

"I was there when the mysterious gift was delivered," wise old Nestor added, "and Hermes told us that this warrior possesses the ability to control great amounts of water, such as we have never seen before."

"We have already sent and received communication from the Trojans," Menelaus said, "and they have agreed to pit their own champion against ours at the break of dawn."

"We have suffered long enough for a just cause," Ajax added, "and it is high time that the tide be turned in our favor!"

"It is unwise to doubt the wishes of the gods," Nestor counseled, "and we must be thankful for their aid at this fortuitous hour."

"There is no knowing what may happen tomorrow," some still muttered doubtfully.

"But with the support of Poseidon for our warrior," Agamemnon reminded them, "I am certain that the outcome of this war shall soon be decided. Tomorrow at dawn, victory shall be ours!"

The king's words were persuasive and comforting to his host and another loud cheer was heard from the crowd of exhausted soldiers. After so many years of fighting, they did not want to question any gift of the gods to them, and all were willing to take any way out of that madness.

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"Nothing will come of this fight, I am telling you," Cassandra insisted desperately, "we are being toyed by the gods, and as are these two strange warriors you speak of. They have their own demons to slay, their own war to contend with, they are not our salvation."

For she had seen how it would all end. And she knew well that hoping that the new champions would resolve everything was a vain endeavor.

But as usual, and as was her curse, Cassandra's words fell on deaf ears. King Priam had been delighted at the unexpected visit of the messenger god, Hermes, who delivered an enigmatic, cloaked figure to the palace in the dead of night.

"Apollo sends a gift to the noble king of Troy," Hermes had said, "a new champion who can challenge your enemies, and bring this war to an end at last. But know this; your champion can have fire at his command. He is not of the world that you know, and he is beyond your understanding. You are not to speak or look at him before the duel."

The old king was wise enough not to question the god's instructions, however strange and vague these were. He was weary of the war and hoped that the new champion would defeat that of the Greeks and so put an end to all their suffering.

Prince Hector had been skeptical of this development but had deferred to his father in this matter. He too was wise enough not to question the will of the gods. And if it was indeed help that they offered, who was he to refuse it?

Prince Paris, for his part, was merely relieved at the turn of events. He had been getting many frowns from the people around him, who were all painfully aware that it had been his selfishness that had brought this whole problem about. He had failed to win the war for them in his duel with Menelaus, and now everyone blamed him for the continuation of the conflict. If it was true that the champion sent to them would resolve the war, then his blunders would be forgotten.

All of Troy now put their hopes on the stranger brought by the gods, and everyone eagerly awaited the dawn when the final battle was to commence.

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Just as Eos rode her chariot across the sky, the forces of Greece and Troy had gathered outside the gates of the great city and near the shore. But most of them had come simply to witness the extraordinary and mysterious duel that was to take place.

Emerging from each side, the hooded champions moved forth, silent figures who were still as mysterious as ever. The two warriors also wore strange masks that hid their faces very well but still allowed them to see their opponents.

All watched and waited as the two prepared for battle. Even the gods and goddesses, from their place in Olympus, were regarding the whole even with interest. Not all of them knew how these strange beings had been procured by both Poseidon and Apollo, and the two gods refused to explain. Whatever the motives, all the gods knew that they were in for quite a show.

The two fighters got into their initial stances, and then advanced. Both Greeks and Trojans watched in astonishment as the warrior of the Greeks unleashed a whip of water upon her enemy, controlling large amounts of liquid from the sea, which was nearby. But her opponent seemed unfazed by this, for he was deflecting and defending against her blows with large flames that he seemed to generate from his bare hands.

The exchange of blows continued as the water and fire began to be manipulated in various shapes and sizes. The fighters were likewise both agile and flexible, demonstrating a wide variety of moves and techniques which even the most experienced old soldiers in Greece and Troy had never before seen.

The Greek champion soon discarded her cloak, and it was revealed that she was a woman. In spite of any initial doubts the Greeks had about her, she proved to be an excellent champion and they had no complaints to the gods about this choice of a warrior.

For she fought with water whips and sharp blades of ice which were constantly being launched at her opponent. But the wielder of fire was no weakling, and he was clearly experienced in fighting an opponent of her caliber. He launched balls of flame towards her and melted all her icy attacks with fire from his hands.

The battleground grew moist and icy from the waterbender's attacks as well as scorched from the blows of the firebender. And yet, so far, no blood had been spilt, and no injury dealt on either champion.

What was strange was also that neither of them spoke as they fought. They were simply too engrossed in the battle to lash out verbally at the other. The Greeks on the ground stood back when either fire or ice began to spread towards them. They now saw why their champions carried no weapons with them, brought no blade nor spear nor shield.

For they had all these in the forms of fire and water, and they battled fiercely and incessantly for a long time.

All watched in awe as water and fire clashed in a grand spectacle, and many grew fearful and nervous. Who would win this battle?

Even Agamemnon, who had been so confident about victory, was now dubious. Undoubtedly, the Greek champion fought with the skill of Athena and the ferocity of Artemis, but her opponent was gifted as well. The match had been going on for several hours and neither fighter showed any sign of stopping. The duel was exhilarating and yet also uncertain.

From the high walls of Troy, King Priam watched the battle carefully and wondered. The two seemed evenly matched, as if the gods had been completely fair in allotting the champions. And he was fascinated by their powers, for he had never seen anything like this in all his years. He was glad to have lived long enough to witness something so extraordinary.

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As the battle raged, there were certain words that echoed in Zuko's head.

"Fight for their honor. Save this kingdom. Protect their people."

Nothing else filled his thoughts as he fought. All other energy was focused on his firebending attacks and defending himself against the waterbender before him. It was a peculiar feeling.

He remembered every technique, every fighting stance. He remembered vaguely why he was fighting because the persuasive voice inside his head was constantly chanting those words.

"Fight for their honor. Save this kingdom. Protect their people."

But somehow, he could remember nothing else. And though the waterbender who was fighting against him seemed familiar, he could not recognize her, and not just because she was wearing a mask.

So all he could do for the time being was continue fighting, and hope that he could soon win this duel.

Katara was in the same predicament, though the words of motivation in her case were different.

She heard, echoing in her head over and over again words that inspired a deep and great anger, and fueled her determination to win against this unknown firebender.

"We have been betrayed," the words echoed, "we need you to fight for justice, to deliver our vengeance."

So she did as she was told, because she knew nothing else. Her memory was hazy at best and she needed to concentrate. They needed her, whoever they were, and she was not about to let them down.

So the duel persisted and the clash of elements grew greater and greater, keeping all the spectators in awe. Waves of water now were clashing against walls of flame. The two warriors were jumping, soaring, dodging, and running around the battlefield in a manner never before witnessed. Their determination never wavered, and the fight was not skewed to any side.

But the longer they fought, the clearer their minds became, and little by little, their memories were returning to them. During one particularly powerful clash, both opponents launched attacks that shattered their masks and revealed their faces at last.

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"Ah, here is where it gets really interesting," muttered Eris in satisfaction as she watched the battle unfold.

Her accomplice in the whole scheme, Hermes, hovered beside her with his winged sandals, and asked what she meant. He had decided to play along with her plan to abduct and drug two strange mortals from beyond their world, because there was nothing else to do. And with Eris, there was never any knowing what would happen.

After all, the war had gone on and on and on, in a dreadful monotone almost. And one could always depend on the wily goddess to stir things up.

"Well, the water from Lethe that you let them drink is now losing its potency," Eris explained, "but the clearing of their minds and hearts will not occur at the same time. The boy will feel it first, and he will have to survive for the remaining time that the girl has not yet come to her senses."

"Must you really torture them so?" the messenger god asked.

"Life is full of trials, especially for mortals," the goddess replied calmly, "and there are some hells which they must all experience before they reach a greater understanding. And it is the different ways with which mortals deal with their hardships that makes them more interesting than even the gods."

"You'd get into trouble if any of them heard you say that," Hermes teased.

"A trifle, I am sure," she said with a nonchalant shrug, "I'm not called the Goddess of Discord for nothing, you know."

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Zuko stared at the waterbender before him in shock but her eyes were cold and showed no recognition whatsoever. He could not remember her name yet, but he knew that face, he knew those eyes.

And for all his determination to fight a few minutes early, he now dropped his guard. He would not fight her; he could not fight her somehow. It felt wrong.

Raising his hands as if in surrender, he indicated that he wanted to stop the fight. But the waterbender only saw this as an opportunity to attack. So Zuko made sure to remain on his feet to deflect the attacks as best as he could.

And this whole time, he was racking his brain for the name of the waterbender. All other memories were flashing back to him. She had been traveling with the Avatar, she had been with him in Ba Sing Se, she had been angry at the Western Air Temple, and she had forgiven him after he helped her find her mother's killer.

The memory of that warm embrace was especially clear to him now, and he so wished to see that gentle expression on her face once more. But her eyes were cold and empty now, and she continued to attack him, turning a deaf ear to his pleas for her to stop.

"Enough," he cried, melting an icicle attack, "I don't want to fight you anymore."

She continued to attack.

"I don't know why we're here," he tried to reason with her, "but you must stop this now. Haven't you forgiven me already?"

She said nothing to this but continued to launch her water whips at him.

"Please," he begged, "don't do this. We need to stop, we need to get back."

Still, no clear response. So Zuko had to manage for the time being with defending himself against the water whips and ice blades. But he made no more attempts to harm her.

From where he was watching on the walls of the city, Paris frowned. Why was their champion acting so strangely? All of a sudden, the firebender was refusing to attack the champion of Greece, and had even tried to surrender. Something had gone wrong.

Again, Paris frowned.

"We cannot afford to lose another duel to them," he thought desperately, "something must be done."

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"Please, I know I've done some mistakes in the past," Zuko pleaded, "but I've been trying to make up for all that for so long now."

Still, no reaction from the waterbender, and Zuko had to deflect some more attacks.

"Let's leave this weird place, and forget all this fighting," he reasoned with her, "we have to get back home, we have to help Aang."

She seemed to falter slightly at the mention of the Avatar's name but it was but for a moment. She then resumed fighting.

"Please," he continued, "find it in your heart to forgive me again. Your friendship has been the most important thing to me these past few days, and I never want to lose it."

As he deflected her blows, Zuko noticed something suspicious sparkling in the distance, right by the walls of the strange city they were in. He had already noticed that he and the girl were surrounded by foreign looking soldiers, but there was no time to ask who they were.

And the prince did not appreciate the fact that they were allowing him and Katara to do all the fighting while they watched from the sidelines.

The shining object was moving fast, and towards Katara. A moment later Zuko realized that it was the tip of an arrow, and the firebender moved in front of the waterbender just in time to take the hit that was meant for her.

He fell to the ground, wincing as blood flowed from his shoulder, where an arrow was now embedded. The waterbender had been surprised by this development and was now looking down at him curiously.

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"What have you done, you fool?" Hector cried in indignation as he reprimanded his younger brother, "how dare you interfere in the fight!"

"I swear, I wasn't aiming for our warrior," Paris replied sheepishly, "but he deliberately got in the way."

"That isn't the issue here," the older brother argued, "if the Greeks find out you were trying to rig this duel, the war will never end. You have given them another reason to hate us."

"I'm sorry," was the pathetic response. Paris bowed his head in shame and Hector rubbed his head in exasperation.

"You'd better pray that they didn't notice that," Hector muttered. But the seasoned soldier already knew that it was time to prepare for another round of battles. This duel would not be the end of the war.

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The waterbender now stood above Zuko, her hand poised and ready to strike, a blade of ice ready to be plunged into his heart.

"Please don't do this," he begged breathlessly, though he was too weak to move.

Her eyes remained cold and empty and he was fast losing consciousness from the pain of his injury.

Just as she was about to strike, he managed to remember and utter one word.

"Katara."

Her eyes widened and the haze that covered them now disappeared. She blinked and shook her head, initially confused and wondering where she was. She looked around her and saw nothing but a foreign battlefield and a host of unfamiliar faces.

And then, she looked down, and with a gasp saw the bloody, unconscious figure of Zuko lying before her, an arrow deep in his shoulder.

"Zuko!"

She fell to her knees beside him immediately, tears flowing from her eyes. She looked about her frantically before looking back at him and attempting to comprehend the whole situation.

"What happened?" she cried, "who did this to you?"

But he made no answer.

Gently, she took the arrow out and then, melting the ice blade in her hands, she instantly began to heal his wound. The water glowed from her hands, some of her tears mingling with it, and she watched with relief as his breathing became stable.

She sighed, tears still flowing down her cheeks. He was no longer in pain, and from what she had figured out so far, she had not been the one to deal him with that nasty blow. But then, she remembered what she had been about to do when she had regained consciousness. Why had she been about to strike him down?

"We have been betrayed, we need you to fight for justice, to deliver our vengeance."

These words resonated in her mind and she vaguely remembered being driven by a great anger and indignation. It was a violent instinct that she had only recently become aware of, the extent to which she would go to defend her beliefs. She had been frightened by her own intensity.

"How did I come to this?" she asked herself now, and then realizing that she still did not know where she was, she looked around.

She and Zuko literally seemed to be in the middle of a battlefield, with one faction watching them from near the shore and another looking down on them from high sturdy walls. She had never seen people like them before, but she was familiar with the situation. She was no stranger to the horrors of war.

She didn't know how either of them had gotten there from Ember Island. But all she knew was that she wanted nothing more than to return home, to leave that foreign battle field.

"What's the meaning of this?" cried a soldier angrily, "why have they stopped fighting?"

Immediately, there was an uproar from both sides, and all were demanding an explanation for what had just transpired.

Katara heard the soldiers egg her on, and command her to do away with Zuko once and for all.

Others still, those from the wall, were calling out to the "wielder of fire", asking him to destroy the woman before him. And then there were some Greeks who had witnessed Paris' foolishness and who were now blaming the Trojans for such treachery.

Somewhere in the Greek camp, Patroclus had decided to join the fight.

Shouts were given and weapons were raised, and in the ensuing madness, Zuko regained consciousness and was slowly able to sit up. Neither the Greeks nor the Trojans had advanced upon the other, so busy were they hurling accusations upon the other and shouting words of both encouragement and disgust at their two conscious champions.

"Zuko!" Katara cried happily, "I'm so glad you're okay."

"So am I," he said honestly, "thank you. I'm glad you're back too."

"What's going on here?" she asked, "how did we even get involved in all this?"

"I don't know," he replied earnestly, "but it felt like we were being manipulated for someone else's purpose."

"To win a war, I suppose," Katara surmised, "I don't understand it at all."

"Neither do I," the firebender said, "but all I know is, I'm glad that you're all right again. For a moment there I had thought that you hated me again. That was the worst part for me."

Katara was grave at this. She took one of his hands gently.

"I never hated you," she said softly.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she looked away in embarrassment.

"I was angry, that's all," she excused herself, "and I didn't know what I was saying. I'm never going back to that again."

And in that moment, the firebender knew that all was resolved between them. The past had been forgotten and a new friendship was about to begin. Where it would lead them was another story.

Her eyes met his and they looked at each other silently for a few moments. But the din of the soldiers' cries soon broke their reverie. Katara helped Zuko stand up and their hands clasped as they stood together. The strange soldiers had become angrier and were now blurting out words about the gods that the two benders did not quite understand.

"We need to get out of here fast," Zuko told his companion urgently. Katara nodded and both began to look about them for some means of escape.

For they could see that a new battle was about to commence, and they did not want to be caught in the crossfire.

"How do we do that?" Katara asked him.

"I believe I can help you there," said a voice from behind them.

They turned quickly to see a radiant young man standing before them, or really, hovered before them in mid-air. For he was wearing a strange kind of sandals with wings on them.

"Who are you?" Zuko asked suspiciously, "were you the one who brought us here?"

The young man shook his head.

"I am Hermes, the messenger-god," he replied, "and though I was not the one who brought you here, I have been given the power by that person to send you back. For your purpose, or at least, her intended purpose for you has already been fulfilled."

Not to her satisfaction, Hermes had wanted to add, but there was really no time to explain everything.

Zuko and Katara looked at each other and then back at the strange hovering man. But they knew that they really had no choice but to trust him.

"You are an admirable pair, though," Hermes told them earnestly, "not many people can break the spells laid by she who seeks to cause conflict. You must have endured much."

At this the two benders could not help but smile reminiscently.

"You have no idea," Katara told the messenger god.

"Probably not," Hermes replied, "but the fact remains that two souls at peace with one another have no place in a war such as this. I shall take you back now."

"Thank you," the two benders answered eagerly. For they had much to sort out in their own world, including the strong feelings which now had begun to surface between them.

With a snap of his fingers, Hermes enveloped the two in a bright swirling mist, effectively transporting them back to their world, and causing even greater chaos between the Greeks and Trojans.

Eris watched all this with some disappointment. For while the war continued at an even more vicious pace, she was bored with it. She had so hoped to create trouble between the two powerful beings whom she had been so interested in. Instead, this peculiar experience had only furthered their reconciliation. She had actually given them an opportunity to grow closer!

How ironic and annoying. Mortals were indeed such mystifying creatures!

The goddess frowned and folded her arms at the turn of events. She had a low tolerance for frustration so she hated it when her plans backfired on her.