Well folks, this is it. After two years of writing, THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER. I never thought this story would become so big, I never thought that so many people would fall in love with it! So thank you all for surpassing all of my expectations!

Many of you are wondering if I'll continue with a sequel...you bet your buns I am! I'm following the storyline of the series, so there will definitely be at least 3 books.

I can't even begin to thank you guys for your support. I've had my highs and lows, and no matter what, you guys are always here to support and encourage me. I love every single one of you, and know that I'm sending you lots of hugs!

Important note: I'm in college, and I'm in some pretty tough courses, so I can't say for sure when the sequel will begin. I have decided on a name, though. It's going to be called Earth: Bring it Down. Be sure to author alert me, so that you'll know when it comes out!

*A guilty request/suggestion: I'd love to see some fanart for this story, if any of you have a knack for art or know people with artistic skills. I've always wanted to know what people envision when they read my story, so any fanart is ADORED. If you're feeling up to it, just send me links and I'll post them onto my profile for the world to adore and love! If not, don't worry! I'm just putting it out there...

Again, thank you all so much, and I hope you like the conclusion to Water: Twist of Fate!

PLEASE REVIEW!

Chapter 37: Siege of the North – Part 5

Zuko's voice disappeared when the hand dragged the two of them underwater. Dakota's chest constricted at the iciness of the water, and an involuntary shriek left her mouth, expelling her precious air in an explosion of bubbles. Her eyes snapped open, and she took in the watery beauty of the canal, with beams of moonlight piercing the water.

The Ocean Spirit was dragging them down, deeper into the depths of the ocean. Dakota could feel Zhao frantically struggling behind her, could see the bubbles swimming by her as he screamed helplessly. Dakota stayed as still as she could, instinctively conserving her energy.

I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I'm going to die–

If Dakota was so sure, then why was she even bothering to save her strength? Why bother worrying about air, or warmth, or life? Dakota wanted to let go, but something inside of her refused to give up. Her head tilted upward, watching the blurry shape of the moon become smaller and smaller. It was beautiful, but it served as a terrible reminder; Dakota had failed. The girl closed her eyes, turning away from the sight.

A sharp pain began to emanate from her lungs, and she knew that she would have to breathe in soon. Dizziness was encroaching on her coherent thought, and Dakota pressed her hands to the glowing water that held her prisoner. It was strangely alive, pulsing and humming.

It felt similar to the water that had pulled Dakota into this world, full of life and ancient beyond comprehension. The humming was increasing in her ears, and without warning Dakota's lungs began to spasm, causing her to breathe in a deep gulp of seawater.

Sharp, cold pain stabbed at her chest, and Dakota opened her eyes.

She was suspended in a world of white, weightless and free. She felt no pain, and when she looked down at herself she saw that she was still dressed in Fire Nation armor. But as she watched, a shimmering ribbon of water began to coil around the gaping wound in her shoulder, and in a second the skin was good as new. The ripped armor was the only sign that she had been hurt in the first place.

Dakota frowned – a second ago, she had been feeling panic, but now was unable to feel anything but calm. Her mind was at ease, free to relax in this strange state of nothingness. There was no cold, no water. The light was soothing, pulsing like a heartbeat.

A presence suddenly made itself known, emanating power and wisdom, and Dakota knew even before she turned around that the Ocean Spirit was there with her. His breath filled the space, immense and unpredictable. The girl turned, and gasped, because she had never seen a more beautiful sight.

Instead of a fish, there stood a man, an inhumanely beautiful man with large eyes that were as blue and depthless as the ocean – no, they were the ocean. Around his form were robes of liquid, watery fabric that flowed and shifted constantly. Dakota had never felt more insignificant in her life, and if she could have she would have fallen to her knees. The instant she beheld him, she knew who he was, and yet for some reason she still found it necessary to ask.

"Are you the Ocean Spirit?"

A single nod, the robes around his ankles flaring up like the rise of a wave. Dakota stared at the ancient spirit, and fought to keep her voice steady.

"I'm so sorry. I tried to save the Moon Spirit, but I…I failed. It's all my fault," Dakota said as loudly as she dared, which wasn't much more than a whisper. She stared at the spirit, expecting the great glowing hand to reappear and drag her under. It was then that she realized that Zhao was no longer behind her. Was he facing similar treatment, or had he already been drowned?

To her astonishment, the spirit smiled.

He glided forward, and in one smooth movement reached up to touch Dakota's forehead. There was a split second in which nothing occurred, but then Dakota was gasping, because she was recalling a memory that wasn't hers to begin with.

Tui couldn't believe what he was hearing. La – his heart, his love, his other half – was staring at him, her silver eyes pleading. Her delicate presence swirled around him, soothing him without any effort. But Tui's darker energy prevailed, and La took a step back, her white hair pooling over one shoulder as she did so.

"Tui, please–"

"La, have you gone mad? You want us to enter the mortal world, you want us to be separated?" he bellowed, his panic bleeding through at the very end. He was trying so hard to be strong, to not let the hurt show on his face. But of course, he couldn't hide anything from La.

She stared at him, her eyes soft and patient as he began to pace back and forth. The realm they were in was tranquil, one of the more beautiful realms of the Spirit World. The grasses were green, the flowers every color imaginable. Around them grew giant palms, above which large bird-spirits flew.

"You know better than to assume that I would ever want to be separated from you," La breathed, reaching out her hands to him. Tui hesitated, wanting to turn away from her and inflict pain on her – then, she would understand what he was feeling. But he couldn't, because every bit of his being rejected the idea of hurting her.

Tui's hands found La's, and he knelt before her.

"But if we bind ourselves to the mortal world, I will be away from you. You will be above, and I will be below," he said, leaning forward so that their foreheads were touching, his hands slipping from hers to cup her face. She let out a heavy sigh, her own hands reaching up to cover his hands. They remained this way for a long while, listening to the caws of the birds above them and rustle of the palms.

"I know, my love. I know, and I hate it as much as you do. But I've seen the mortal world, Tui," La murmured, pulling back so that she stared into his eyes. "I've seen it's fragility, but more importantly, I've seen its strength. We have existed since the Beginning, and what do we have to show for it?"

La stood, and strode through the grass, her long silvery dress shimmering in the sunlight. She was so beautiful that Tui wanted nothing more than to enfold her in his arms and never let her go. But instead, he turned, and watched her as she stared up at the canopy of palms.

"I see the beings of the mortal world live and die just as quickly. But they're so bright, Tui! Every single living thing is so precious, and I cry and laugh and I feel when I witness it! I always wondered why we were placed in this world, Tui, and now, finally, I know why!"

"La…." Tui sighed, striding over to where she stood. But she whirled around before he could reach her, and he paused at the tears in her eyes.

"Please, Tui. Please do this, for me. I love them all so much, and I know that you will too, if you give them a chance. I need you with me, my love, I need you and I can't do this alone."

Tui stared at La, and reached out for her hands. It pained him, but he couldn't deny her this happiness. She was such a gentle, motherly spirit, and once she put her heart into something she was resolute. It was a trait he adored in her.

"I love you, La, and because I love you…I will follow you."

La's beaming smile was more glorious than anything the Spirit World had to offer, and she threw herself into his arms. He held her close, memorizing the feel of her, because after they left this world…he would never get the chance to hold her again.

As if she could read his mind, La said, "We will find a way to be together, Tui. We won't bind ourselves to the mortal world until we figure out a way to be together, I promise."

Tui didn't answer, instead tightening his hold on her, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

Dakota blinked rapidly, her heart racing and her breath coming fast. The Ocean Spirit – Tui – stood before her, observing her solemnly. She stared back at him, her eyes searching his face and struggling to understand the emotions flitting behind his mask of serenity.

"The scrolls…they're wrong about the two of you. The stories say that you hate each other, that you sacrificed your mortality to escape the Moon Spirit…"

Tui smiled once more, and faded away into the light, leaving Dakota alone in the world of white. Dakota flinched at the resounding hum that shaped itself into a voice, a voice that was much older and much deeper than Tui's voice had been in the memory.

True sacrifice is made out of love.

The light was growing brighter and brighter, sending waves of dizziness into Dakota's skull. There was a pounding sound that resonated throughout Dakota's body, erratic and frantic. Her head swam, and suddenly Dakota was able to feel again.

Dakota's body felt like lead; she couldn't move no matter how hard she tried. Her vision was blurry and her lungs were screaming for air. Something strong and solid was wrapped around her middle, pulling through the water.

The salt of the ocean stung, and so Dakota closed her eyes. She was so tired…everything seemed insubstantial, as if it were only a matter of time until she woke up.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if the Ocean Spirit had decided to drown her after all.

Zuko lunged forward and grabbed Dakota's hand, a part of him reveling in the amount of blood that coated her skin. He had seen the cut in her armor, but in his hurry to chase Zhao he hadn't considered how deep the wound was. She hadn't stopped fighting, and so he assumed she wasn't too badly hurt. But now, as he felt the blood against his fingers, he realized that there was too much blood. She was hurt, very badly, and he hadn't even bothered to notice.

Her eyes were wide, her small hand tightening around his. Zuko looked away, focusing on keeping his footing. The glowing water was slowly dragging Zhao and Dakota across the length of the bridge, pulling Zuko along with them. The Fire Nation prince leaned back, grunting as his boots dug into the ice. But the glowing water-hand was too strong, and Zuko felt the beginnings of panic seeping through. He looked up to see that Dakota was looking back at the glowing water of the canal, her face streaked with sweat and smaller blotches of blood from where her fingers had touched.

"No, just hold on. Hold on!" he ordered, and she nodded very slightly, her hand tightening around his. Zuko's hips met the railing, and he looked down, letting out a growl of frustration when his efforts did nothing to stop the hand's descent. But he couldn't stop trying, he couldn't let Dakota go.

She wasn't a weak, spineless girl anymore. She wasn't that strangely clothed girl who knew nothing about the world she was in; she wasn't the mediocre Firebender with no drive.

She was Dakota.

Zuko still wasn't sure what she was to him, but he did know that if he let her go, he would never forgive himself.

He looked back up, and a terrifying sight greeted him. Dakota was staring at him, her eyes soft and dark in contrast to the moonlit city. It was a knowing look, a resigned expression that sent chills up his spine. No, she couldn't possibly be thinking of letting go, she wasn't that stupid!

"Don't–" Zuko begged, but before he could continue, Dakota let go of his hand. Pure terror pulsed through him at the sensation of her blood-slicked hand sliding through his.

She was letting go, she was letting herself be pulled under, she was letting go–

"DAKOTA!" he screamed, reaching to grab Dakota's hand again, but she retracted it, holding it close to her body. Her face was turned downward, her hair falling forward to shield her expression from him. Zuko yelled her name over and over, trying to get her to look up, to reach out to him. Dakota endured, she survived no matter what, and there was no way she could die here tonight.

Zhao – Zuko hadn't even bothered to register his presence for the past minute or so – began to yell, and Zuko didn't bother looking at him. He was still reaching out for Dakota…he was a few inches away, she just needed to extend her arm!

"You traitor! I hope you rot, I hope you rue the day you were born from that traitor you call a mother! Your father will never love you, your country will never accept you, and your honor will never be restored. You are nothing!"

The hand paused, and Zuko stretched forward, and for a split second felt Dakota's shoulder against his fingers. Triumph rushed through him, and he called her name, telling her to grab onto his hand.

But before she had time to respond, the water-hand jerked her away from him, and into the canal.

For a second, all Zuko could do was stare, because the fact that Dakota was gone seemed unreal. The moment the hand pulled its prisoners under, the surface of the water calmed. It rippled slightly, like long sheets of glass warped by fire.

And then adrenaline pumped through Zuko's veins, and he was able to see Dakota's pale hair, sinking deeper into the glowing water. He didn't think, that would take too much time. In one smooth movement, Zuko unclipped his outer armor, climbing up onto the wide bridge railing. His golden eyes were narrowed, and he sucked in a deep breath.

Zuko only allowed himself a moment's pause before diving into the canal.

The instant he touched the glowing water, his entire world shifted. He could feel dark, cool energy bubbling within the water, too large to be contained by a single canal. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring all at once. Zuko knew, somehow, that the glowing hand belonged to the Ocean Spirit.

The glowing water was so bright that he was forced to squint. The salt burned his eyes, but he disregarded it.

Zuko could handle a bit of pain.

As if on cue, the water's glow began to seep away from the surface of the canal, focusing on a large ball that was shimmering in the lower half of the channel. Zuko dove down after it, kicking furiously. He reached the orb, and touched it, flinching at the jolt of painful energy that zinged up his arms.

Zuko felt an unbearable urge to stop, to leave and never enter the water again, and he couldn't tell whether it was his own mind or the will of the Ocean Spirit. But he imagined Dakota struggling for air, her pale hair floating around her as her body became limp, and strength flooded through him. The cold shied away as Firebending warmed his body.

I won't let her go.

His fists pounded at the solid ball of energy, ignoring the burning sensation that resulted from the action. Then, without warning, the glowing orb disappeared, and the water darkened. Beams of moonlight pierced the water in the Ocean Spirit's absence, illuminating Dakota's suspended form.

Zuko swam forward, and locked his arm securely around her waist. Dakota floated lifelessly, her skin cold against Zuko's heated skin. Pushing aside the terrible thought that she was gone for good, he pushed toward the surface, his lungs crying out for oxygen.

The night air soon filled his lungs, and Zuko's head whipped around as a deep gasping filled the air. Dakota was sputtering, her wet hair slicked back from her ashen face. The blood was gone, and making the light brown smudges dotting her nose and cheeks stand out. Her eyes were closed, her movements jerky and uncoordinated as she struggled in his grasp.

"Breathe, Dakota. Just breathe," Zuko ordered, treading water and maneuvering her so her head was safely above water. He kicked toward the nearest shore of the canal, looking back at Dakota every now and then. After the first initial gasps, she calmed down some, but still hadn't spoken or opened her eyes.

Zuko was breathing heavily by the time they reached the shore. His arms felt like heavy weights, and he only just managed to pull Dakota up onto the snowy drift. Her outer armor was heavy and cumbersome, and Zuko quickly removed the heavy metal pieces. It would only weigh her down, and they would have to move and find Iroh, soon.

He placed his hands on either side of Dakota's head, and very carefully let warmth flood from his fingers. Slowly, very slowly, she opened her eyes, and stared up at Zuko with the oddest expression on her face. It was an expression of disbelief, of shock.

It made him angry – did she really think he would leave her to die?

"You idiot. I told you to hold on, but you just…you just let go! What if I hadn't been able to jump in, Dakota? You could've…"

But Zuko found that he couldn't say it. So he settled for scowling deeply, glancing down and moving his hands slightly so that the heat was focused on her temples.

"Died?" Dakota croaked. Zuko stared down at her, and was astonished when, without warning, Dakota began to cry. Zuko was so surprised that he forgot to keep applying heat to her head. Soft sobs shook her entire body, and her shaking hands reached up to cover her face. She looked so vulnerable, like a small child clad in an adult's clothes rather than a young woman clad in a slightly larger man's clothes.

"I c-c-could've died, and there was n-nothing I could do to s-stop it!" she whimpered, and Zuko's brow smoothed out. He finally understood the reason behind her tears.

Dakota was scared. There had been so little time for her to truly come to terms with the possibility of drowning, so little time to be truly terrified. But now that she was out of death's grasp, the fear she had suppressed before was making itself known.

Zuko had known that same fear. The seconds in which his father burned him, they had been horrifying, yes, but in a way it happened too quickly for him to really understand the consequences. Later, when he awoke to the white walls of the healing center, and felt the bandages and listened to the doctor tell him how close he had come to losing his eye and ear…the fear came back. He shouted at the doctor to leave the room, and then he cried and cried and cried.

In the bright light of the full moon, Dakota's tears looked like streaks of ice. The sight made Zuko remember that night on the prison rig, when the candlelight had illuminated Dakota's tears in a similar fashion. He decided, in the back of his mind, that the firelight made her tears look more alive and real. The silvery light of the moon made her tears seem cold, otherworldly. She looked so out of place in soldier garb, but she looked even more out of place in the snow and ice.

Zuko extended his hand, faltering and hesitant, slowly letting it fall on top of her wet head. She didn't react to his touch, and he was both disappointed and grateful that she didn't respond.

His mother had stroked his hair when he was upset. But Zuko was not Dakota's mother or father, and so he didn't know if that sort of comfort was acceptable. But he couldn't just sit and do nothing, and so he simply offered her the weight of his hand. It was all he could offer her, and that simple truth left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Zuko wanted to say that everything would be okay, but the words stuck in his throat. It felt wrong to speak, and so Zuko swallowed the words and simply knelt bedside her, feeling the cool slickness of her hair and watching the icy tears pour down her cheeks.

Footsteps reached Zuko's ears, and he turned to see a familiar figure running along the bridge. It was Iroh. Zuko withdrew his hand, and whistled sharply to alert his uncle to their presence. Iroh spotted Zuko and Dakota, and hurried down the path made of hard packed snow. Dakota didn't look up at Iroh's approach, and Iroh gave her a worried look.

"Dakota, are you alright?" he murmured, kneeling and touching her shoulder, and Dakota bowed her head, her hair falling in clumps to hide her face. Zuko frowned at her lack of response, and Iroh turned to Zuko.

"Is Zhao…?" he asked, trailing off.

"He's gone, Uncle," Zuko replied, nodding toward the canal waters. Iroh looked at the calm waters, and sent Zuko an inquiring look. He wanted details, and Zuko shook his head, jerking his chin to the silent Dakota sitting in between them. His uncle nodded, understanding his caution, and rubbed soothing circles on Dakota's shoulder.

"I have managed to procure a small ship. I suggest that we leave before dawn, Prince Zuko. I doubt that the Northern Water Tribe will take kindly to our presence."

Dakota flinched at he mention of the Water Tribe, and Iroh's eyes softened slightly at that. Zuko frowned – what had happened at the Spirit Oasis? But he didn't voice his confusion; he would have time to get answers once they were safely out of the Northern Water Tribe. Right now, all that mattered was avoiding capture.

Zuko looked over at Iroh. "How far is the ship from here?"

"Not far. But we should go now, to avoid detection. Most of the city is gathered at the palace, so we should be safe for the time being."

Zuko nodded, and turned to Dakota. Her head had lifted slightly, and he saw her dark eyes looking up at him. He stared at her for a moment or two, and then leaned forward.

"Can you walk?"

Dakota looked up at the moon, and reached up to scrub at her eyes. Her jaw clenched slightly as she nodded. Slowly, she got to her feet, Iroh supporting her all the way. She was shaky, but stable, and she stood for a moment, her dark eyes taking in the glory of the full moon. A breeze blew, rustling her drying hair around her shoulders, and in her soldier attire…she presented a strangely intimidating image to the world.

But then she stumbled slightly, and the spell was broken. Iroh was beside her, and he patted her shoulder, offering his arm to her. She took it, and the two walked toward the main path. Zuko hurried after them, shaking off the cold that threatened to plague his hands and feet.

An hour or so later, they were aboard a small wooden ship, barely larger than a rowboat, with a delicate pair of sails. Iroh busied himself with raising the sails, and Zuko sat on the floor of the boat, alternating between staring out at the glaciers and observing the ship's occupants. Dakota sat to his right, and she was quiet, staring up at the sky with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Thank you for saving me, Zuko," Dakota suddenly said, the first words she had spoken in three or four hours. Iroh glanced back, but continued fiddling with the sails, content on observing the two teens. Zuko looked away from his uncle, the glaciers once more the center of his focus.

"I'd say we're even, now."

Dakota looked over at him, and the smallest of smiles crossed her face. It was still there, though, and in an instant she looked more like her usual self.

"Not quite. I still have some catching up to do."

Zuko tried to remain stoic, but her words made him smirk all the same.

Iroh finally managed to lift the sails, and Zuko and Dakota both turned to watch as they fluttered with help from the sudden breeze. Zuko watched his uncle rub his hands together, proud of his accomplishment. Dakota quickly craned her head around the side of the boat.

The sun was slowly peeking out from behind the horizon, and Zuko blinked as the brilliant orange glare of dawn struck him. Dakota's form was a dark shadow in comparison, her hair rustling around her shoulders. Iroh was sitting at the front of the ship, humming a tune that was different from his usual songs. This tune was wistful and slow, and from the depths of Zuko's mind he recalled that it was the song that Dakota had been singing when he returned from posing as the Blue Spirit.

A stronger breeze blew, and suddenly the sails swelled. Iroh yelled in excitement, and hurried to extend the sails as far as they would go. Dakota smiled at Iroh's exuberance, and leaned against the side of the boat, her gaze returning to the sky above them.

Zuko felt the boat began to pick up speed, and stared into the morning light for a few seconds more before settling down to sleep. In that moment, he didn't know where their next destination was, or where the Avatar was headed. He didn't care, either, and that was very unusual.

Zuko closed his eyes, and let the gentle rocking of the surf and the sound of Iroh's humming lull him to sleep. For the first time in many, many years, Zuko dreamed.

He dreamed of wingless dragons, of endless cups of tea and golden dresses that gleamed like metal. He dreamed of bamboo ladders bending under the Avatar's and his combined weight, he dreamed of the still waters of a pond inhabited by gentle turtle-ducks. He dreamed of dances, of pale sand and fire.

Zuko dreamed of home, but never once did the cities and palaces of the Fire Nation appear in his dreams.

To be continued...

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