This chapter dedicated to the lovely Nephertiri who left a wonderful long review. I love long reviews. ^^ But honestly, reviewing at all is a big thing for me. So I'd also like to thank Sareon, Kamikashi, Iggywhitdog, bvc17, KraZiiePyrozHavemoreFun, and of course Gigi. I missed you! You may recognize something in this chapter I put in for you.

I really like this chapter. It's a nice full one to make up for the shorter one I posted the other day. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did.

The Last Dragon

Chapter 7: Spirit Dance

Azalon was the first person to see them come out of the woods. He'd been lighting the rose colored lanterns that stood at the village gates, trying to look down over his ample belly to be sure he wasn't going to twist his ankle in a gopher-squirrel hole. A little ways away on the edge of the woods the grass stirred and a cloud of fire-flies rose into the air, dancing around the two strangers in a mad whirl. For a moment he thought they were racing but how could they be when one stumbled and the other grabbed for a hand as they laughingly pulled themselves across an invisible finish line.

"No need to rush, slow down!" he called, holding up his hands with a smile and discreetly moving the torch away from the silly teenagers. "The festival has only just begun. Plenty of time to find a mask and join the celebration."

"Masks?" the girl asked once she'd caught her breath. There was a leaf stuck in her hair, though she didn't seem to mind. Instead her eyes were fixed behind him where the edges of stalls were peaking around the houses and the sweet scent of honeyed meats was beginning to scent the air. She didn't look at all embarrassed to have been caught playing in the woods, unlike her companion who had immediately adopted a more composed manor the instant Azalon had spoken.

"Straight over that way," the man said, nodding towards the center of town. "Big stall. Fellow who sells them is a master at it, though you can't tell him I said that," Azalon added hastily. "It'd go straight to his head, I'm sure. Where you two from anyway?"

"What good are masks without a little mystery?" the boy interjected smoothly before the girl could answer. Azalon raised an eyebrow and then laughed grudgingly. "Alright, fair enough. Kids…" he shook his head and his expression had much to say about the state of today's youth as he went back to lighting the string of lamps.

"What was that about?" Katara asked once they were out of earshot, keeping her voice low.

"I just don't think we should advertise our presence right away," Zuko said quietly. "I don't want to have to go looking for another village if this one turns out to be Ozai supporting, do you?"

"I guess I didn't realize things were that bad," she admitted.

"They're not," Zuko said quickly. "It's just better to be careful. The more isolated people are, the more fixated on an idea they become. That guy didn't even recognize us. We're in the middle of nowhere." They stopped talking as they began to be surrounded by people. Nearly everyone was in a mask of red or green, smiling through eye holes or around bright face paint. Laughter rose though the air and there was a distant sound of music. A little girl with fire lilies in her hair ran by, yelling and waving her firsts at a giggling boy who was trying to shove a cookie the size of his own head into his cheeks.

Zuko spotted the display of masks first, eyes lingering on a familiar blue face. He nudged Katara and slipped her some fire nation money. He didn't have much, but outright theft in such a small town wouldn't go unnoticed. And Katara would probably object, though she had surprised him about things like that before.

"What are the masks for?" Katara asked him as she examined the display. She ran her fingers over a bone white visor with a large plume of red feathers hanging from one side.

"There's a fire nation fairy-tale about the fire lilies," Zuko answered. "Something about a spirit. I think. Father wasn't big on fairy tales and mother could never get Azula to lay still enough to finish most of them." He picked up the blue mask. Katara was holding straw hat and a veil, her lips curved into a smile.

"I'll be right back," she said. Zuko started to protest but Katara was out of sight, her dark hair swaying behind her as she vanished into the crowd. Zuko scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. Things were a lot simpler when he'd traveled with people required by law to listen to him. She wouldn't do this to Aang, would she? Why did all the women in his life feel the need to ignore every word he said?

"A blue demon mask?" the seller asked. "That's not a very popular choice you know. How about gold? Gold would look good I'd wager." The mask-maker was a small man, balding head valiantly defended by a few lingering dark hair that were swept over the largest patch of skin at the top of his head. He was wiry and moved like he had balloons tied to his feet, taking steps that had more up to them than was really needed.

"I thought it looked more like a spirit," Zuko said. "Just this part here should be white. This part, around…" he pointed and the man nodded thoughtfully. In a second he'd whipped out a paintbrush and a small pot of white paint. For Zuko it was like watching a dubious old friend come back to life. The Blue Spirit had been a thief and almost a murderer. It was not something Zuko was proud of, but it was something he knew. Thanking the man and adding as much of a tip as he could spare, Zuko slipped it on.

"Good fit." The Mask-maker nodded, looking pleased with the effect. "So maybe it's not a demon. But it's certainly no sweet spirit you've got there. Then how's your spirit better than a demon?" Looking a tad smug the man lifted the edge of the cart and began to slowly make his way down the street, the masks clacking against the wood in an almost musical rhythm.

"Hmmm. Well I suppose I didn't really expect you to choose one of the flower masks," Katara said, coming up on his right and examining the azure fanged mask. Zuko stared. Katara must have found some face paints in one of the stalls. A red pattern was now creeping around the edges of her face, rimming her eyes in red and framing her cheeks in an almost fierce design. The hat and veil had been combined, giving her a wispy and ethereal appearance. Matching red marks ringed her upper arms and Zuko realized that rather than helping her blend in, the fire nation costume made the young woman stand out significantly. With her hair combed and her face no longer hampered by dirt, she was bound to make a few heads turn.

"It's the Painted Lady," Katara said. "She's a fire nation river spirit. I thought it would be… appropriate. And she's the only Fire Nation costume I could think of." Katara admitted.

"Looks great," Zuko looked away from her and down the street. "But it's kind of elaborate isn't it? We really should just find something to eat and a place to sleep."

"Are you always this paranoid?" Katara asked him. Zuko scowled. Katara smirked a little. Zuko's scowl deepened until he realized she couldn't see it behind his mask.

"I promise we won't stay long," Katara said. "But we really should find out if we're safe here before we try to sleep. And remember, if this is the nearest village, there's a good chance whoever assassinated the sand bender we captured could be here as well."

Zuko straightened up at that. She was right. With the masks in place they'd be able to move and listen without attracting any more attention than the rest of the people in the festival and they could very well pick up something useful. "Let's get going then." His stomach rumbled. "The, uh, meats stand first though."

* * *

"It's no use," Teo shook his head even though he knew his companion wouldn't be able to see. "The trees are too thick. I couldn't see it if an entire arm was walking right below us, let alone two people."

"Just keep your eyes open," Toph said, sitting on a crate near the back of the small flying ship. The dragon's egg was nestled in a soft blanket on her lap. "Sooner or later one of them will say something stupid to the other and we'll hear a huge whoosh of fire or water to mark their spot."

"I hope it's fire," the young man said. "It's going to be too dark to see water soon. And I'm not so sure about them fighting anyway, I think they get along alright now," Teo said, rolling his chair to the back with her, one hand on the rudder that steered the craft along the air currents. "They've saved each other's lives more than once. Katara and Zuko haven't hated each other for a long time."

"Hate doesn't have anything to do with fighting," Toph said in surprise. "I love my family and I still can't have two words with my mother without us fighting. It's like a bonding thing. Probably."

"You don't fight with me," Teo pointed out. "What's that mean about us?"

"We're smarter than the rest of the world," Toph answered without missing a beat. "Now find an open space so I can get my feet back on the ground."

"Yes ma'am," Teo chuckled.

"See what I mean? Smart."

* * *

The sky was alight with stars against the now black sky. Or maybe they were fire flies. Katara wasn't sure since she never had more than a moment at a time to spare a glance upwards. The streets were alive with chatter and music. The girl in pigtails was squirming on a chair as bright red beads were woven into the black strands of her hair. A couple of men were toasting everything they could think of, looking for more excuses for further alcohol. A young couple held hands as the boy whispered in the girl's ear and she blushed and looked rather thrilled. Katara glanced sideways at Zuko and bit her lip to keep from laughing at the mask again. It was just so… happy, even if it was a frightening face. It didn't seem to fit Zuko at all, but he insisted it was what he wanted to wear.

They passed a puppet show and Katara stopped. The last fire nation puppet show she'd seen had been pure fire nation war propaganda. If it was the same show, it would prove the small village to still be supporters of the former Lord Ozai.

"…legend of the Fire Spirit and the Lily. Long ago there was a small fire spirit that kept charge of a small lantern that hung in the gate tower of a small town." As the words were read somewhere behind the little theater, a puppet with dark hair, red eyes, and a sweet expression was lifted up into view. The children cheered and some of the adults smiled the same way her Gran-gran did when someone told the story of the moon. "When the town was in danger, the spirit would light the lantern to warn the villagers and they would keep very still and silent, ready with their weapons, until the spirit put the light out again."

"The spirit was proud of his work and loved the town, but because he was a spirit he was very lonely." On stage the little dark haired puppet sagged a bit and some of the children reached forward, trying to comfort it. "One day it looked down from its tower and saw in the field outside of the walls a little flower nymph peeking in through the cracks in the gate. She was bright red, the same ruby color as his own flame and the little fire spirit fell instantly in love." On stage the first puppet was joined by a female with crimson skin and petals coming down in a skirt around her, green leaves mimicking hair on her head.

"The fire spirit called down to ask what she was doing there at the gate. The flower replied that she was a Lily and had only ever grown in the field. Some nights she had seen the humans holding celebrations or dancing and was hoping to sneak in to join them for a night as she was as lonely as he had been, tending to her flowers alone for the whole of her life."

"The Spirit promised her that he would make sure she was invited to the next celebration if she would only wait five days and that he would come down and open the gate for her himself. The next night the spirit lit the lantern. The town huddle in fear, tensed for the attack, but none came. There was not even the sound of an army passing by nor monsters creeping past the gates. The spirit lit the lantern again the next night and again the village waited to be attacked. This happened once more and then the village decided to send their most spiritual wise-woman to the tower to ask the spirit what was wrong."

"The spirit told the wise-woman that he wanted to dance with the fire lily at the next night's festival, but was afraid to leave the town he loved unguarded. When she relayed his message, the village realized that they had been taking their guardian spirit for granted and promised him that the festival would not last one night, but three (which was as long as the Fire Lily Nymph could safely leave her flowers) so that he could dance with the Lily as long as he wanted and someone else would watch for danger in the tower.

"The spirit proudly opened the gates, but the Fire Lily immediately hid. She knew her skin and appearance were strange and began to feel self conscious about dancing among the humans. The spirit refused to return without her and so the village donned masks and costumes, making themselves as bright as they could, though of course nothing could match the glow of the Lily and the Fire Spirit.

"So each year when the Fire Lily is in bloom the Fire Spirit finds her at the gate and they put on masks to dance together and bring warmth and color to the village for another year."

Childish cheers and applause brought Katara back out of the story and she joined in clapping. Zuko was beside her, also listening and clapping softly. "Who knew the fire nation were such romantics?" she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. Someone was tugging at her skirt and Katara looked down. A girl maybe six years old was standing by her leg, looking up through a sparking red mask.

"Are you the Fire Lily?" she asked in the kind of child's whisper that ends up being louder than a normal speaking voice. "I won't tell, I promise." She clung to Katara's skirt tighter as if expecting her to bolt for the gate now that she'd been discovered.

"Why would you think that?" Katara asked curiously.

"You're the only person I don't know," the child confided. "I'm very good at 'membering people. Masks makes it harder but I still don't know you."

"Do you know everyone in the village?" Katara asked, amused.

"No," she admitted, twisting her hands behind her back and peering through the eye holes of the mask up at Katara. "But… are you?"

"Come here," Katara moved to one knee and pulled the child partly onto her lap. "I came here with him. Does he look like a Fire Spirit?"

Zuko looked down at them and the little girl's eyes widened at the sight of the grinning blue and white face. She swallowed and shook her head no so fast Katara was hit in the face with her hair. Grinning, Katara put the fire nation child back on her feet. The girl ducked around Katara, peeking out at Zuko again as curiosity fought with fright. "He's nice, I promise," Katara soothed her. "A little grumpy maybe…" Even if she couldn't see it, she got the impression that Zuko was rolling his eyes behind the mask.

"Do you want him to take it off?" Katara asked, a little hesitant that the girl might have been more frightened than she'd meant her to be.

"Katara, do you really think my actual face would be less frightening?" Zuko whispered. Katara gave a start. When had she actually forgotten Zuko's scar? But the little girl was again shaking her head, a stubborn expression pressing her lips together.

"You can't take your mask off," she said scornfully. "Then the Fire Lily Spirit will get scared and leave before she has a chance to dance."

"Then maybe we'd better get the dancing started." This was a new voice. Katara turned and saw a young man roughly her own age with one hand extended. "I noticed you never really said you weren't the Fire Lily," he added, a cocky grin showing beneath a leafy mask that covered the upper half of his face. "So how about a dance, to put the little one's mind at ease? Do me the honor, Ms. Painted Lady." He gave a flourished little bow and Katara laughed, cheeks going pink at the obvious flirt. She glanced once at Zuko who remained impassive and then nodded with a smile.

The music started up in a fast waltz and the boy took both Katara's hands as they entered a large open square where people had begun to dance. They spun around in a giddy circle, the veils on Katara's hat flying wildly around her in time with the music. Her partner was half a head taller than she was and had wild brown hair long enough that it was tied back in a green ribbon, a few tendrils escaping the hold to frame his cheeks. Leaf-mask spun her and raised his eyebrows in a challenge. Katara met him move for move and soon there was a small crowd surrounding the pair and watching them dance.

Zuko stood a little ways back from the crowd, scanning the faces for anyone who looked even remotely Earth Kingdom, but with the masks and the way the torchlight cast strange shadows on every face it was hopeless. Unless someone walked by with a green and gold shirt that said "I met the Earth King's bear and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" this night would be a waste.

"You shouldn't leave your girlfriend with him for long." Zuko turned to see a girl with long hair looking over at him with a half-smile. Her mask was strange, though far from the strangest he'd seen that night. It was a patchwork of materials sewn together reminding Zuko of a peasant's doll. "He's a flirt," she continued bluntly. "He's been here all day picking up girl after girl."

"She's not my girlfriend," Zuko said hotly. "She's just a friend."

"Oh so she's your friend but you're not going to step in when she starts falling for the wrong sort?" the girl asked. "Some friend you are. Seriously, that boy's bad news. Go cut in before she gets in trouble."

Zuko grumbled under his breath and glared at her before pushing his way into the crowd towards the middle where Katara danced. A woman nearby leaned back to talk to the girl with the patched mask. "What are you going on about?" she asked. "I saw the boy dancing in there come in the front gate not half an hour ago, never seen him before in my life. Why'd you say he'd been here all day picking up girls."

The masked young woman shrugged but couldn't hide a grin. "It was just for fun. Besides, I think the Blue Spirit needs to dance."

Zuko hovered on the edge of the ring of people to wait for an opportunity to step in. He eyed the green masked boy suspiciously, sizing him up. He didn't look much like a fighter but dancing like that required a lot of energy and the boy was barely breaking a sweat. Zuko wished he'd had his swords with him. Their weight would have been a comfort.

After a few more minutes of stalling he saw his chance when the dance slowed. He moved behind Leaf-mask and tapped him on the shoulder. When the two dancers turned, he slipped between them and spun Katara. He wasn't nearly as graceful and there were a few laughs and catcalls from the audience but Leaf-mask stepped away after a few seconds of hesitation and was immediately claimed by a busty young woman who swept him away across the dance space.

"I didn't think you danced," Katara said as she and Zuko began to move at a more gentle pace.

"I don't," he said curtly.

Katara looked like she was about to comment on that and instead chose, "You're too stiff. Relax. Listen to the drums. One-two-three, one-two-three…."

"This isn't relaxing," Zuko hissed. "People are staring."

"No they're not," Katara insisted. "Look, most of them have gone off to dance themselves." It was true. Rather than a ring of onlookers there were now couples and small groups dancing everywhere. Someone was singing along with the music but Katara couldn't make out the words. "Come on," she coaxed. "Isn't this fun? Did you ever have royal dances as a kid?"

"Um, once," Zuko said, glancing down at their feet to see if he'd stepped on her yet. "When my mother was still at the palace. Azula tried to lock me in a closet so mother made her babysit one of our cousins for the rest of the night. It was the first and probably the last time I saw Azula beg." He smiled and Katara could feel him relaxing. His dance steps were still stiff and he held himself far too formally for such a casual setting but she suspected he was having a bit of fun in there somewhere.

"What about you?" she asked, keeping the conversation going. "Did you dance?"

He hesitated. "It was less dancing and more some distant relative picking me up and flinging me around the room. But I did learn how to do the Camelephant Strut. It's this really old dance but it was… actually pretty fun," he admitted. Katara knew she'd heard that name before and tried to remember. From somewhere in the back of her mind she pulled the image of Aang darting back and forth from one foot to the other in a quick rhythm, passing his hands over his face with each step. She took a step back from Zuko and mimicked the moves as best she remembered them. Zuko was nearly floored.

"Y-you know it?" he asked. "How?"

"Aang once had a friend in the fire nation," she said happily. "I don't know all of it. Just this bit."

"I think the next part…" Zuko frowned behind the mask, trying to remember. When one of the leaps took her near him he took her hand and joined the leap before leaning back and away at the last minute. Katara gasped and for a moment was flush against Zuko before he whirled away, a triumphant look on his face. "I guess I do remember."

They each improvised what they could remember with what felt right and the dance became a kind of game. Katara would leap and Zuko would catch her, either pulling her close or lifting her high by the waist so that she landed on the other side where they would circle each other. Then the dance would begin again. People watching later said they weren't sure if it reminded them more of a love story or a battle. The strange mask and red face paint looked violent in the firelight and each dancer's movements were precise and sharp. But where they touched things became softer for only a moment before they separated in the lively dance again.

A boy hidden behind a green leafed mask watched the two, his eyes narrowed to cold slits.