Where There's Tea, There's Hope by Urocissa Ornata

Summary: Despite Zuko's role in rescuing Hakoda, Katara is still furious with him. When he talks to Aang about it, the two boys realize many important things about their friendship, the women in their lives, and the nature of hope.

[This vignette takes place during Book 3, between Chapter 15: "The Boiling Rock Part 2" and Chapter 16: "The Southern Raiders." To prevent the Wall of Text from killing your eyeballs, I broke it into parts. They're not episodic parts, this story is one really long scene that was meant to be read in one sitting.

The title was taken from a quote by Arthur W. Pinero. I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender; I just borrowed the characters for a bit and took them for a spin around the back roads of my imagination. Don't sue me, please; you'll only get pocket lint and gum wrappers for your trouble.]

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"And there I stood, Zuko locked in combat with the guard, facing one of the worst things that could have happened to us. We'd been discovered," Sokka explained to his enraptured audience, his voice sending chills down their spines. Storytelling was an art form among the people of the Water Tribes; it provided entertainment during long fishing trips and frigid, polar nights. Sokka gestured to Zuko, who stood six paces away with his lone eyebrow quirked in exasperation. "I had to make a fast decision, and I knew the implications if I decided wrong." He stepped forward dramatically and wrapped his long fingers around one of the fire prince's wrists, and tried to pull him to the ground. However, unlike at the Boiling Rock prison, Zuko didn't feel the need to comply.

Sokka paused in his tale, the drama of the moment shattered, and tugged Zuko's arm with both hands. "Psst," he hissed, his azure eyes narrowed and shifting as he peered around his "captive." "You're supposed to go down, now."

With deliberate, royal delicacy, Zuko extracted his wrist from Sokka's hands. "They get the idea," he said mildly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He stepped off Sokka's "stage," which was really just a few tiles of the Air Temple floor raised up a little by Toph, and folded himself cross-legged next to Teo.

Sokka glowered at the prince and let his irritation hang in the air for a moment. "Drama queen," he muttered, and Zuko huffed in response. Then, with a hefty scoff, Sokka resumed his tale, quickly recruiting Chit Sang to stand in for Zuko. The bigger man was quite willing to comply with Sokka's pantomime. Most everyone was—they were all on a high after the daring rescue of Hakoda and Suki. Gaining another ally, the powerful Firebender Chit Sang, was an added bonus. As Aang said not long after they'd disembarked Azula's airship, not everyone in the Fire Nation needed to be an enemy.

Katara had whipped up a stew for lunch, making sure to use some of her father's favorite spices; those who weren't drafted into Sokka's impromptu play were busy enjoying her delicious cooking. The group was situated in a loose circle around the performers, with Katara nearest the water fountain and her father, kneeling on the stone tiles as she absently stirred the stew, refilled bowls, and ate her own meal.

To be fair, Zuko thought, it was Sokka's plan, and he deserved to revel a bit, especially after the failure of his invasion plan. Zuko knew how that had haunted his new comrade. On top of that, Azula had goaded him about Suki's fate, and Zuko knew better than anyone how well Azula could extract maximum pain—physically and emotionally. She was probably using those skills on Mai now. Zuko couldn't help but cringe at the thought. He kept trying to remind himself that Mai was a capable woman and that her uncle would not let her be harmed by Azula. The Firelord would not allow Azula to execute the daughter of such prominent supporters. Would he?

Mai's fate was such a huge issue that it threatened to swallow him when he thought about it. He kept his memory of her locked in a box in his mind for now. Best to worry about her a little later, when he could open the box and deal with his grief and fear without anyone to see. That was how things were always done in his family; care for another person was considered a sure sign of weakness. With great effort, Zuko kept his attention on the play unfolding in front of him. They were at the part where Sokka realized his father had arrived at the prison.

Zuko had concluded early on in the rescue attempt that Sokka was one of the bravest people he'd ever met. Possibly the most stupid, too, but it was a good kind of stupid. Listening to Sokka's detailed reenactment drove home to the prince how unbelievable it was that they'd pulled it off. The Boiling Rock Prison was notorious in the Fire Nation; it was often used as a threat against whole families to dissuade them from political dissent. From the most remote Fire Nation colony village all the way to the capitol itself, people spoke of the prison in hushed tones, and those with family members locked up there were often shunned by their communities for fear of guilt by association.

Fear of unjust imprisonment was something Zuko hadn't realized was so prevalent among his people until he traveled. He'd just never thought about it, never noticed it. Injustice existed everywhere, but neither the people of the Water Tribes nor the Earth Kingdom lived with such an undercurrent of anxiety and suspicion of their own governments. The Fire Nation, by contrast, was steeped in mistrust. It was something he ached to fix, if the Avatar was ever successful in bringing down his father. And Azula, of course.

So it was a pipe dream, but a good dream nonetheless.

By now, Suki had volunteered to play the warden, showing a zest for performance matched only by Sokka. Zuko had had only brief interaction with the Kyoshi Warriors; he supposed Suki was good at acting because she was used to costume. She twisted and pulled her wiry frame into different postures as she mocked first the warden, then other guards as well. She was a slip of a girl, but he had seen firsthand how she was a powerful warrior; she projected the fearsomeness of the bully prison guards convincingly. Even Hakoda was drafted into a few parts, although his weathered face betrayed fatigue and he seemed content to sit with his daughter.

Zuko watched Katara out of the corner of his undamaged eye, feeling a strange sense of wistfulness as she sat with her father. Anyone would be proud of such a powerful daughter, but to see such tenderness on a parent's face—it reminded Zuko of his mother. Unlike his mother, however, Hakoda had obviously had a powerfully positive influence on both his children, not just one. Zuko's mother always seemed helpless to combat the ruthless tendencies in Azula. Perhaps if the two of them had been brought up in a society that favored love over power, Azula would have turned out a little more like Katara.

He must have been staring more than he thought he was, though, because the next thing Zuko knew, Katara was glaring at him across the pot of stew still bubbling next to her, her hand paused in the act of stirring, her wrist arched gracefully. He blinked and looked at her apologetically, and she turned her face with an obvious snort. Zuko's jaw clenched and unclenched as he felt a sigh escape him. This was getting to be a real problem.

Since joining the Avatar's group, Zuko had tried, and tried hard, to please everyone. He'd done as much work as he possibly could keeping up their camp at the Western Air Temple, cooked and made tea for everyone, and most of all, helped Aang learn Firebending. Zuko had never served people like he served these people—not when he was working in tea shops in the Earth Kingdom, and not when he helped his uncle look after their little camp when they were hiding out from Azula. It was a different kind of service, he'd concluded; it was borne out of positive emotions instead of negative ones. Zuko was surprised to find out that he was good at doing things like making tea, as long as his heart was content. He'd tried to talk to everyone, joke with them, and prove that he wasn't the surly, anger-filled, angst-ridden enemy he used to be. By now, it seemed that most everyone had at least accepted him, if nothing else to give Aang the shot he needed at becoming a fully realized Avatar. Maybe now that he'd helped rescue two of their loved ones, they'd even begin to like him.

The one exception, of course, was Katara. None of the joy she'd shown when her father showed up at the Western Air Temple had spilled over toward Zuko.

Sokka was still going at full steam as Katara dished up second helpings of lunch for everyone. Hakoda had been pulled from her side again, this time to demonstrate his failed attempt to incite the prisoners to riot. Chit Sang was relishing his lines, stomping his feet as he and Hakoda reenacted their diversionary riot. Taking advantage of her momentary solitude, Zuko grabbed his bowl and Teo's and moved to Katara's side, wondering if he weren't tempting fate. "You seem happier," he murmured to her as she Waterbended stew into each bowl. He watched her hopefully; maybe her icy demeanor toward him could melt a little now that he'd proven something to her.

Katara dropped the stew in Zuko's bowl with more force than necessary, splashing him with the hot liquid. She turned her face away, her brilliant blue eyes staring at the temple's rough stone floor, nostrils flared and her lips pinched. "You brought my father back," she whispered, so low that Zuko couldn't quite be sure that was what she said.

Zuko felt his jaw tighten as he tried to ignore the sensation of the almost-boiling droplets burning his skin. Controlling his anger was a new—and difficult—challenge for him. He had to count to ten before he resisted the urge to say something nasty, the way he would respond if Azula had done such a thing to him. Katara was not Azula. She wasn't a monster. Azula did things to hurt people because she enjoyed watching their pain. Katara was just plain hurting. He arched his neck to get a glimpse of her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," he said quietly, working to keep his tone even.

Katara's face tightened even more, the cords in her neck now showing as she seemed to roil with tension. She took a deep breath and seemed to be trying to calm herself, as well. And then, suddenly, he could see a flash of an expression—he couldn't quite describe it, but she just looked so vulnerable. Her face seemed to crumple into a ball of hurt. It was there for only a second; if he'd blinked at the wrong time, he would have missed it. Then her features hardened, and she mumbled into the floor, "You brought my father back."

This was probably the most thanks he would get, Zuko thought resignedly. "Um…no problem," he replied in a low voice. She didn't respond, although her eyes tightened and her hands were now curled into fists. Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he decided to push his luck. "I hope…maybe…you might consider, well, maybe not being friends, but at least…cordial?" he stammered, cringing as he ended the sentence because her already angry face seemed to get even more twisted.

"Zuko," another voice interrupted; the prince splashed himself with stew again as he started. He looked up at Aang, who was standing over Katara now, looking concerned, his new glider in hand, its wings folded closed so it looked like a plain staff. Stupid, he cursed himself mentally. She's made it clear what she thinks of you, and you're only going to piss off the rest of them by pushing the point!

Aang watched his new friend's goldenrod eyes take on that alert, defensive look they got whenever he suspected he might have said the wrong thing to someone in the group. Aang couldn't imagine what the older boy must have been through, growing up among such dysfunctional people that he expected a stab in the back every time he spoke. Zuko had been walking on eggshells, working overtime, and, Aang thought wryly, trying too hard to be good to everyone. Pity didn't help people, he knew from what the monks had taught him. But Aang had to work very hard not to feel sorry for Zuko.

"I think everyone could use a nice cup of tea," Aang said, and watched as Zuko relaxed visibly. He really had expected Aang to tell him off, he marveled. "I think we'll need to scrounge up a few more teacups, though—I'll help." He gestured in the direction of the kitchen building with the tip of his staff.

Zuko gave Teo his bowl; the younger boy rested it on his bandaged legs and watched Suki's deft acrobatics raptly. Zuko placed the other bowl on the floor near Teo's wheelchair and got to his feet. "I'm not going anywhere near that dilapidated place without an Airbender," he said, forcing a smile on his face and a laugh out of his lungs. He glanced around at the others, some of whom were smiling or nodding knowingly. The Duke and Haru had discovered how unstable the kitchen building was; it was near the edge of the cliff from which the Air Temple was suspended, and apparently sustained a lot of damage when the place was first attacked by the Fire Nation. He glanced up at Aang, who was grinning.

"I won't let you down," Aang replied, mock heroism touching his voice. Everyone there knew Zuko was quite capable of taking care of himself.

Still in the middle of playacting the prison riot, Sokka froze in place and motioned for his actors to pause. "Awww," he whined, "I was just getting to the good parts! Aang, you gotta hear what happened once we got to the gondola," he gushed, gesticulating so grandly he almost stepped off the stage and in Zuko's bowl of stew.

"It's okay, Sokka," Aang said placatingly. "I'll catch it from Zuko. These three," he gestured to the newly-released captives, "could really use some tea."

Suki dropped the hulking pose of one of the guards she was impersonating and nodded enthusiastically. "I haven't had good tea since before I was captured. They only gave us watered-down black tea in prison."

It was a testament to how much time Zuko spent with his uncle that he shuddered in genuine horror. "Okay," he said, again forcing a cheerful note to his voice. "It's officially a tea emergency."

"Yeah, tea would be great," Sokka said enthusiastically, fully in support of the idea now that Suki liked it.

Zuko and Aang headed toward the kitchen with murmured thanks from Hakoda and Chit Sang. Zuko glanced back at Katara as they climbed the steps leading toward the outbuilding, but the Waterbender had her back turned—on purpose, it seemed. Rage still radiated from her. If she'd been the opposite kind of Bender, her hair would have spontaneously combusted by now.