"The Ship of Dreams, they called it. And it was. It really was…" Over five days, the lives of Kai Wen and Jinora Gyatso became irreversibly entwined. But their adventure was not the typical love story, for the ship they met on was the RMS Titanic. From the moment the ship set sail from the Earth Kingdom in 177 AG, it was destined for disaster. [Kai/Jinora] Titanic!AU.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Korra, or any of its trademarked characters. I also do not own the plot of the movie Titanic: that belongs to James Cameron and his associates. I only own the story that you see written, and hope that you enjoy my spin on things.

Those in Peril on the Sea by boasamishipper

Prologue

Ren blinks blearily, rubbing his eyes as he stumbles into the living room and nearly trips over the pile of the books that Gran-Gran keeps laying all over the house. He looks down and sees A Justification of the Privileges of Women turned open to page two hundred and four. It's so worn and dog-eared and covered in marker stains that Ren isn't quite able to decipher the printed text anymore.

It's expected, of course, that Gran-Gran would've gone through every book, novel, and novella in the house and add her own perspective in the margins. She'd used to be a historian, one of the most revered ones in the world. Her expertise had been sought after by the top people in the Four Nations back in the day—way back in the day, Ren thinks fondly.

The name Jinora Wen has long since been lost to the history books, of course, because the human race can only focus on one thing for so long before focusing on something else, something shinier and newer. But that doesn't matter, certainly not to Gran-Gran. She can always find something to do.

Some days, Ren likes to look through the photo albums that his Gran-Gran keeps all over the house, looking back at the old, better days. Back when Gran-Gran's hair was brown instead of white peppered with bits of gray, when she had been able to walk around the house without the aid of a cane, when she'd sat with him and his brothers and had told them all wonderful fantastic stories about the world and how it worked.

She's a hundred and one, though, although she possesses the mental faculties of someone fifty years her junior. She's very self-efficient, making her own cup of tea in the morning (stubbornly insisting, "I'm just fine, Ren, please don't worry about me.") and spending hours every day poring over history books and muttering to herself. Last night, when he'd gone to bed, she'd been complaining about her trifocals and insisting that she'd had perfect vision until she turned eighty-seven, and she'd never been to an eye doctor in her life before that.

Lost in thought, Ren enters the living room to see his Gran-Gran sitting on the couch, wearing a bathrobe over her cotton dressing gown. A book that he suspects is her signed copy of A Long Road Away rests on her lap, and she's staring off into space.

"Good morning," he tells her, kissing her on the cheek and sitting next to her on the couch, moving a stack of papers to the coffee-colored rug on the floor.

Gran-Gran stirs and looks over at him. "Good morning, Ren," she says. "Sleep well?"

"I slept fine, and you?"

"Like the dead," she says, and he flinches despite himself at her long-running joke. He still can't get over the fact that she can address her mortality with such…nonchalance. "Don't flinch, dear. You know my time is soon—the least I can do is to joke about it."

Ren sighs, but says nothing more about the matter. He looks at the television screen, where a news program is broadcasting at low volume. The latest story on is something about a child prodigy making it to the finals of some competition that he couldn't care less about. Must be a slow news day if they've resorted to this, then. "Would you like some tea, Gran-Gran?"

"No, darling, I'll pass for now. I'd like to watch more of the program, would you mind turning the volume up a little bit?"

Ren nods and presses the volume button on the remote control. He knows that she's got no clue how to work the latest technological advances. The radio on her bookshelf has long since stopped working and had been made long before even his mother had been born.

"…calling you a grave-robber. What is your opinion on these accusations, Mr. Teishi?"

The man, Mr. Teishi, looks tall and imposing, even though his posture is horrible. His hand is clamped firmly on top of the bowler hat that he's wearing, and judging by the way the wind is blowing on the deck of the ship he's on, Teishi is afraid of his hat getting lost to the sea.

Ren can't help but snort.

"Well, Ms. Rei, when archeologists explored and dug in the ruins of Taku the media didn't call them grave-robbers, now did they? My team's been working on this project for nearly three years. They've gone through the best training money can offer, and I assure you, they're treating the artifacts that we have found with the best care possible." With a simple gesture, the camera pans over to a tub of something that looks like water, and a drawing lay at the bottom. It's not a very good image on the television screen, what with the static in the corners, but Ren can make it out.

Once he realizes what it is—or rather, of what it is—he flushes down to the roots of his hair. Ren makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat as the camera zooms in. The picture is of a woman that looks to be in her early twenties, and she's completely naked except for a chain around her neck that sports a jewel that's probably worth more than his life.

Ren tries to avoid looking at the picture. "Um, Gran-Gran, do you want me to—"

"Well, I'll be a hog-monkey's uncle." The brashness of the statement surprises Ren, almost more than the joke from earlier. "Ren, get me a phone book. I'd like the telephone number of the television station. Now."

Miza Beifong is frustrated.

To be fair, she's been frustrated ever since that goddamn expedition went wrong last month. They were supposed to uncover the jewel necklace thing that Haru Teishi's been rambling on and on about since he'd stopped by her home in the Earth Kingdom and forced her to join his ragtag team of individuals.

Naturally, it's a sore subject. Mainly because she and Haru had once had a romantic relationship that had lasted for all of a week before both of them getting bored of one another's company. The other reason had been Miza's father, who'd absolutely refused to let her take part in Haru's "dirty scheme."

Miza can understand her father's reasoning. After all, her great-aunt, Lin Beifong, had died on the Titanic. Her Gran-Gran, Suyin, had barely escaped with her life. Suyin had made it to Republic City before eventually going back to Zaofu, their estate. There, she'd met Baatar—Miza's grandfather—and had had five children. (Uncle Baatar, Uncle Huan, whom Miza thinks is a bit temperamental, Auntie Opal, Uncle Wing, and her father.) Miza's father, Wei, had been one of the youngest kids of the Beifong family: the age gap between him and Miza's aunt and uncles was significant.

Despite the accusations of dishonoring her great-aunt's memory, Miza had gone on anyways, something that she was sincerely beginning to regret now. The coffee supply had run out weeks ago, she's beginning to tire of the rowdiness of the men on the ship, she can't remember the last time she's gone ashore, and the entire reason for the mission had gone to hell in a handbasket.

Maybe saying that she's frustrated is putting it just a tad mildly.

"I've got someone on the phone for you, Miza," calls Jian, making his way over to her through the crowd of people on the deck of the URN Day-Ling. Feng gives him a dirty look as Jian shoves him out of the way. If Feng hadn't been so steady on his feet, Miza is almost ninety percent sure that Jian's shove would've pushed him over the edge of the ship.

Miza waves him off before the man can even get within fifty feet of her work station. "I don't want to talk to whoever it is. I'm busy, Jian." With that, she puts her reading glasses back on and continues pouring over the paperwork. And maybe she sneaks a glance at the picture too, still soaking in the water. Damn, I wish I could touch it. But she can't, not without the whole damn thing crumbling to ashes.

Coffee. She really needs some coffee. But she's far too busy to get some, let alone listen to Jian's gabbling or whoever the hell he has on the phone with him.

Apparently between the start of the expedition and now, Jian had become a mind-reader. "Doing what? Wracking your brains over the mystery of the picture?" To her surprise, Jian is smiling. She doesn't remember the last time he smiled. This must be interesting. "Trust me, Miza, you're gonna want to talk to this one."

Miza glares at Jian, but he just cocks an eyebrow at her and gestures for her to take the phone. "This had better be good, Jian," she growls, and takes the phone, placing it to her ear. She attempts to school her voice a little but probably still comes across as hostile. Or possibly sleep-deprived. "Hello?"

"Hello, Ms. Beifong." The woman on the other line sounds like she's at least ninety years old, but speaks with the wisdom of someone fifty years her junior. Miza knows that she's definitely not the logistics expert from the Fire Nation that had scheduled a teleconference with her yesterday. So what's she doing on the line? And why is Jian smiling like the owl-cat that ate the canary-mouse? "How are you?"

"Umm...fine?" she says, her voice going up to make her statement a question. Her cheeks flush, and she stands and begins pacing around the deck of the ship, unable to keep still. "How are you?"

"Fine as well." The woman chuckles, and it feels warm and sweet, like a nice cup of tea, but she sounds amused. Like Miza is a puppy polar-bear dog that had rolled over and wagged its tail. "My name is Siku. I'd like to ask you a few questions. More specifically about the drawing that I saw on the television set."

Oh, Spirits, if this woman is another fan I'm going to skin Jian alive. Miza quenches the thought after a few seconds. Whoever this Siku woman is, she doesn't sound like a reporter or a fan. Or even one of the grave-digger accusers. She clears her throat and says, "Um...I'm not really at a liberty to discuss things about the Titanic investigation, Mrs. Siku."

"Just answer one query on my behalf, dear, will you please?" The other woman pauses. "Have you found the Eye of the Sea yet?"

"I…" And really, it's a miracle at this point that Miza is even managing to stay completely upright. This woman knows something, Miza knows it like she knows the sky is blue. And Spirits knows that they need answers to this. They really do. "Mrs. Siku, how do you know about the Eye of the Sea?"

"That's quite simple, dear." And, before Miza can ask her to clarify, if this woman is really going to solve one of the greatest cases of all time in one fell swoop, Mrs. Siku clarifies. "My legal name is Jinora Gyatso, Ms. Beifong. The girl in your drawing is me."

"Bullshit," Haru proclaims, pacing around the deck with his hands thrown in the air in pure exasperation. "Her statement is bullshit and you know it, Miza. Jinora Gyatso died on the Titanic when she was seventeen. There's no record of her getting off the ship in Republic City when it docked. Zhang himself said that he never saw Jinora again. Hate to say it, love, but your caller is a phony. A big phony."

"I know, Haru," Miza placates. She really does—everything he's saying is eerily reminiscent of what she'd been thinking of less than an hour ago. "I understand, and I really thought so too, but I think that she's telling the truth."

"Listen to me, Miza. I don't think you do know. She is lying. I did research on her to check things out. Before she was married, her name was Jinora Wen. Does that ring any bells?"

Miza shakes her head, bemused.

"Yeah, it wouldn't to you, but back in the day—like back in the time of our grandparents—she was huge in Republic City, all over the Four Nations, to be honest. She was a historian; a really famous one, the best in the world, people called her. Raava only knows what she learned when she was researching people's lives. She probably researched the Titanic and all of its passengers, it was a big thing in her time. Then she married a guy named Siku, moved to Ba Sing Se, popped out a couple of kids, and retired thirty years ago. I don't care what you say, Miza, it can't be her. Jinora Gyatso would be over a hundred by now, if she was still alive."

"According to her records, she turned a hundred and one about two months ago."

"Okay, so she's really freaking old," Haru admits. "It doesn't change anything, Miza. I'm positive that she's just some lying old coot."

"Haru!" Miza's voice is sharp. "Look. Just hear me out. She's got no reason to lie. We never offered a reward on the television set, so there's not a motive behind it. Who cares if she really is Jinora Gyatso? You know as well as I do that the Ayre Corporation died off years ago. The Gyatso family went extinct in the male line at least twenty years ago. LingShi Zhang bit the dust long before either of us were born. There's absolutely no one alive who would care if Jinora Gyatso came back from the dead."

"Dammit, Miza, don't look at me like that."

She raises an eyebrow, knowing that she's about to win. She's dangled her carrot, and now all she has to do is wait a few moments for her boss to jump up and grab it. "Come on, you know you're just as curious as I am about this."

After a few minutes, Haru curses, and she knows that the battle is hers. "Oh fine, for Raava's sake, bring her in! But when this lady turns out to be some insane old gold-digger, don't say I didn't warn you." Then, almost as an afterthought, he says, "But the travel expenses are coming out of your final paycheck, Miza."

Son of a bitch.

As the helicopter touches down on the deck of the Day-Ling, Ren immediately unbuckles himself from his chair and jumps out, reluctantly taking the hand of one of the crewmen. A young lady that's probably around his age, maybe a bit older, is standing next to the man from the television. Several crewmen and scientists have gathered around—all of them eager to see whether or not his Gran-Gran is a dirty liar.

Ren feels as protective as a mother saber-moose lion protecting her cubs when several crewmen conjure a ramp practically out of thin air and manage to get Gran-Gran out of the helicopter before placing her in a wheelchair. Ren takes their suitcases from another crewman and places them on the deck, taking the handles of the wheelchair. "I've got it," he says, and pushes the wheelchair out of the crowd, hoping that someone has the smarts to pick up their suitcases.

Teishi comes forward and introduces himself. "My name's Haru Teishi, we spoke earlier," he says. "This is my second in command, Miza Beifong."

Miza smiles politely, but doesn't say anything. She's obviously preoccupied with something, not that Ren can blame her.

"We're glad you could come, Mrs. Gyatso. Er, Siku."

"Call me Jinora, would you please, Mr. Teishi?" Gran-Gran asks amicably, beaming widely. "Mrs. Siku makes me feel so old. I am, of course, but that's all water under the bridge, isn't it?"

"Um. Okay. Jinora it is, then." Ren stifles a snicker at how uncomfortable Teishi seems to look. "Your rooms are this way. I can place your caretaker with you, if you'd like."

"I'd like that very much indeed," Gran-Gran confirms before glancing over at Miza. "My dear, I hope you don't mind me asking this, but are you of any relation to Lin Beifong? Perhaps Suyin? Yes, it must be, I can see her in your smile."

Miza looks like Gran-Gran had just asked to shave her legs and take up square dancing with the Fire Lord. "Y-yes. Suyin was my grandmother." She swallows. "Did…did you know her? On the Titanic, I mean?"

Gran-Gran nods. "I did indeed. Both of your relatives were good women, Ms. Beifong. They saved many lives on board that ship. One of them was mine."

Miza ponders that and scratches the back of her neck awkwardly. When she smiles, this time genuinely, Ren can't help but find it extremely attractive. "Thank you, Jinora. I'll tell my parents that, I think they'll appreciate it." To Ren, she says, "You must be her grandson, am I right?"

"Yes, ma'am," he confirms. "Ren Siku, at your service." He gives both her and Teishi a mock bow, and only Miza gives a small laugh of acknowledgement, her eyes lighting up. I hope I can make her laugh a lot more on this trip…

"Flirting aside," says Teishi, and Miza gives him a death glare, "is there anything that I can get for you, Jinora?"

Gran-Gran nods. "Oh, yes. I'd like to see my drawing."

Without another word, Ren, Gran-Gran, and Miza follow Teishi down several hallways into a dark room that has to be at least twenty degrees below room temperature. Several artifacts are being thoroughly examined by a test team composed of fifteen men and women (at least that Ren can see).

"We have to keep your drawing in here," Miza explains, pointing to a tub of saline where the picture rests. "After more than eighty years in the ocean it'll crumble to dust if you were to pick it up and let it dry."

Gran-Gran nods, and her eyes fill with tears as she picks up a small mirror whose screen is shattered. Its handle is chipped, but Gran-Gran looks at it like an art critic looks at a masterpiece. She chuckles. "This was a gift from my mother," she says, showing it to everyone. "I'll never forget what it was for. To remind me that I was always to smile, to play the role of a perfect wife. The reflection's changed a bit, though..."

No one says anything.

"Dear Spirits, it's like being in a museum," Gran-Gran observes. Her expression hardens as she notices a bumblefly hair clip lying next to a hairbrush. "That clip was a gift from my fiancé. Spirits, I thought I'd thrown it out…"

"Anyways," Teishi interrupts, and Ren wants to smack him. "I've invited you here to ask you about what happened on the Titanic, Jinora. Are you able to remember?"

"With stunning clarity," she says dryly. Her sarcasm is the one thing that age hasn't taken away from her. Miza snickers. "I'm able to remember everything, Mr. Teishi. It's just surprising to be able to tell this part of my life at all. It was mortifying, and degrading, and yet—yet I wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world."

Ren sits down at a table, and Miza quickly follows. Some scientists migrate closer, all eager to hear the story of a Titanic survivor. Teishi pulls a tape recorder out of his pocket, turns it on, and sets it on the table between them. "Tell us about it, Jinora," he says. "Please."

Gran-Gran exhales shakily, tears springing to her eyes. She wipes them away with her wrist, then folds her hands in her lap. Half of the workers lean closer to hear the conversation.

"It's been…eighty-four years," she says. Her tone is almost one of amazement, like she's surprised that it's been so long.

"We know," Teishi says in a mock-soothing voice. "Just tell us what you can—"

She holds up a hand. "Would you let me finish?"

Teishi is humbled into silence.

"Thank you. As I was saying, it's been eighty-four years, and I can still remember it all as if it happened yesterday. People shouting from the docks up at us, the people on the ship blowing kisses and calling goodbye to their loved ones. I remember the china was imported from the finest shops in the Earth Kingdom, and had never been used before then. The paint on the walls, the pattern of the carpets—it was all brand new, and so beautiful. The Ship of Dreams, they called it. And it was." She sighs, looking past them all at a point that maybe only she can see. "It really was…"

I don't even know, okay? I recently watched the movie Titanic for the first time a couple of weeks ago, and ever since then this idea has been stuck in my head. So now, here we are. This will be continued, I promise, I'm just not sure how updates will go from here. Rest assured, though, the fic shall go on! I'm already too invested in it for it to not to. :)

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!