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"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey." - Kenji Miyazawa

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Provenance

Part I: The Scroll

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Chapter II

Gravity

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Gran-Gran always told me that there would be moments in life that defined me—changed me. The moments might be big or small, but always significant. She would smooth back my hair and tell me there was nothing I could do to prepare myself for these moments—only wait for them. And like the water, adapt to the obstacles that would follow.

"When a river finds a boulder in its path, it has two choices," She would whisper as she held me close. "Move around it or crash against it. But no matter the choice, the water will continue to flow."

After Mom died I had sworn to myself that I would never let one of these moments sneak up on me again. Next time, I would be ready. A master waterbender should be prepared for anything and I trained myself so hard to become one... I had known in my heart that I would be ready for those fated moments the next time they reared their heads.

What a fool I was.

.oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo.

The silence that followed Lord Iroh's announcement was deafening, and left a sort of ringing pitch in my ears. Even the crash of the waves against the wooden dock seemed distant—too afraid to disrupt this almost sacred moment. Every soul present was as frozen as the white world around us, and Gran-Gran's words were on a repeating loop in my mind. I could feel the truth of her wisdom down to my core. Nothing could have ever prepared me for this feeling of loss—for this black emptiness.

I thought I had understood loss—could accept it more easily because I had experienced it before—but I was so very wrong. The only twisted comfort was that this new gaping wound was familiar. Or perhaps it was the same wound ripped back open after years of trying to heal it.

Move around it or crash against it. Move around, crash against.

Move, crash, move crash, move crash around against—

Sokka was the first to break. One moment he was at my side and the next he was clenching the regent lord's robes, shaking him violently—

Then everyone moved at once.

"Sokka—!"

"What did you do to him!" He shouted into Iroh's startled face, ignoring the guards that fluidly dropped into stances as fire crackled to life in their hands. I heard the clinks of the bone beads tied to my tribesmen's spears as they lowered them to the ready. I felt the tension of them gathered at my back, ready to burst forward on command.

But I didn't move. Couldn't move. I felt oddly detached from the entire situation as my thoughts swirled around my mind. Was this how the next war would start? With loss and smoke and distrust in the air? It seemed fitting. For the start of a war, that is. If it was going to start it may as well start bloody, right?

I swallowed what felt like a hysteric giggle and tasted acid in the back of my throat.

Move around crash against move around crash against move crash move crash—

Dad leapt forward and hauled Sokka back by the shoulders.

Sokka growled and struggled like a rabid polar-bear dog being hauled off its kill. "Pakku was a master waterbender and healthy as a komodo-rhino! He wouldn't just keel over! You killed him!"

"Lower your weapons, or we'll fire!" one of the firebenders shouted, though I couldn't tell who—their white masks shielded all of their faces.

"Oh yeah? How about you put out the flaming hands first." I heard Harok snarl behind me. I could picture him in my mind as I stared blankly forward. Clutching a spear because his waterbending tended to go haywire when he was too emotional, probably quaking in his boots, but acting tough because he would be damned before he showed the Fire Nation how terrified he was.

Would Harok die on these docks tonight? Would Dad? Sokka? I felt my knees start to shake as the rest of me went curiously numb.

Pakku is gone, never coming back, dead, dead, dead, just like Mom, dead—

"Enough!" Iroh bellowed. He smoothed down his robes where Sokka had crinkled them and dusted off his sleeves before neatly tucking his hands back into them, the picture of calm and collected despite just having a face full of screaming teenager.

"Can you not see that these people are in distress over their loss, Lieutenant Jee? Stand down immediately."

"But sir, the prince gave us direct orders—"

"This is a direct order from your Fire Lord, lieutenant, regent or otherwise. These people have suffered our violence more than enough for this lifetime, don't you think?"

"...Yes, sir."

The flames fizzled down, but I didn't hear any movement behind me. I could only assume that the warriors at my back didn't lower their own weapons. There had been too many years of war—raids, murders, tragedies—to ever trust a firebender's word.

"Forgive my son's disrespect, Fire Lord Iroh. We are understandably... surprised at this loss." I could tell that Dad was choosing his words carefully, concealing any emotion he may have. "May I ask what happened?"

Iroh nodded slowly. "I completely understand, Chief Hakoda. And while we have hired some of the top investigators in the world, from both the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, I am afraid that the results have been rather... inconclusive so far."

"And what have they found, exactly?"

Iroh looked at Sokka, then Dad, then me as if weighing the outcome of what he would say next.

"They have found that it was either an accident, or a suicide."

My back stiffened. Suicide?

Sokka snarled. "Master Pakku would never—"

"The doors to his room were locked from the inside," the Fire Lord said calmly, his serene composure a stark contrast to the people surrounding him. "And there were no signs of a battle."

"That doesn't mean anything!" Sokka shouted, once again straining toward the regent Fire Lord. "It's easy enough to lock a door from the outside if you have the damn key—"

"How did he die?" I asked quietly. All eyes turned to me.

Iroh seemed to hesitate as he glanced carefully between my father and I. "Dear child, I am not sure—"

"How did he die."

He sighed as his shoulders seemed to sag down—as if he had carried a burden all the way here from the Fire Nation and could finally lay it out at our feet.

"He fell," Iroh said slowly, the words dragging from his lips. A few of the firebenders behind him shifted uncomfortably, including the man he had referred to as Lieutenant Jee. Through the haze of shock, I committed the name to memory, but I wished I could see his face too.

"Master Pakku's chambers were on one of the top floors of the palace—a room he had requested upon arrival. He was found in the gardens directly below his balcony."

"... I see," Dad said, with a heavy, restraining hand still resting on my brother's shoulder. "And you are sure he fell? He wasn't simply moved there after the fact?"

Now even Iroh shifted uneasily. "The... damage to his person would certainly suggest he fell from a great height," judging by how he wouldn't quite meet our eyes, it seemed he had seen this damage first hand. "Our doctors searched for any sign of poison and found nothing, and there were no signs of a fight in his room nor on the balcony."

"Very well," Dad said smoothly. With a single gesture to his men, I heard the spears lower behind us, each making a small thump on the dock as they came to rest. "I would hope to have a copy of the investigation's findings so far, and to have any new information sent here as well, if it wouldn't be too much trouble." I knew my father well enough to know that he wasn't asking—this was a demand from the leader of our people, not to be ignored.

"Of course, Chief Hakoda. Master Pakku was a dear friend. It would be an injustice to his memory to leave your people in the dark on such a matter. I will personally have all of the documents drawn up for you when I arrive in the Fire Nation," Iroh smiled, though it was small, and a bit sad.

"Lieutenant, if you and some of your men would bring the honorable Master Pakku ashore, so that his countrymen may lay him to rest..."

.oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo.

The walk back up to the village seemed surreal. Had all of those things really just happened? Had firebenders—one of our oldest enemies not so long ago—really come to our shores to tell us that one of our most powerful warriors had fallen to his death?

A quick glance up ahead to where a few of our stronger warriors hefted a man-sized metal box up the steps confirmed it. I felt a wave of dizziness. For the first time in my life, I felt unsteady on the ice beneath my feet—as if it would conspire to make me slip at any moment.

I looked back down, and kept my eyes glued to the immediate area in front of my feet.

If I could convince myself that it was simply an empty box those men were carrying, then I could pretend that the world was still an alright place, if just for a little while longer.

But I knew it wasn't.

For a brief second I tried to picture Master Pakku in my mind, standing strong and steady, scowling because I had tried a move I wasn't ready for again, and then he would repeat the move but he would do it perfectly, and it was so frustrating, and I just wanted to be as good as he was, the sooner the better so I would keep trying over and over while he watched over me barking corrections and harmless taunts and—

But I could only conjure the image of a mangled corpse, with twisted skin and broken bones and blood, blood, blood—

I crashed to the snow on my knees, and gagged, choking on the bile in my stomach. I felt the ice biting my skin through the thick wool of my pants and leggings, and my exposed hands quickly lost feeling as I clawed the frozen ground beneath me until the coughing and spinning dizzyness stopped.

I stared down as the warm filth melted into the pure white snow.

Did I do that?

Boots continued to march past my peripheral view, not slowing for the sad girl crouched down in their path. They just moved around me as the ice and sadness and anger seeped into my bones.

After what felt like hours of shaking and hacking there in the cold, someone—I didn't look to see who; a waterbender? Firebender? I didn't care at that point—hauled me up by my elbow. I stumbled up onto wobbly legs.

"Up you go. You're blocking the path, Sifu Katara." Harok said quietly.

Right. Sifu Katara. I needed to get it together. Water Tribe women were tougher than this. They didn't collapse in the snow at the death of a loved one. They kept moving because they had to. There was work to be done—food to collect and cook, fires to keep burning, young ones to look after—because if they didn't do it, who would?

Harok kept a hold of my arm and dragged me forward. Despite the rough treatment I was grateful—my legs didn't seem to want to move on their own.

"Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?" I heard Harok's hushed voice ask and I wanted to scream, shout in his face that he didn't have the right to say that to me. None of the other waterbending students knew Master Pakku like I did—as a caring grandfather, a stern teacher, a fierce warrior and friend. He was the man who taught me to never overestimate my abilities, but also to never underestimate my potential. He was the one who taught me to be strong but caring, bold but evasive, fluid but unyielding.

It seemed...wrong that he was just dead. Not killed honorably in battle by an enemy who was just a bit stronger than him, nor did he drown in a ship accident while he selflessly and bravely saved the rest of the crew.

No, my sifu had fallen to his demise from some opulent palace balcony onto the foreign soil below it.

But I had to clench my jaw closed because Harok had a point: I was reacting badly—certainly not the way a daughter of the chief should react, especially in front of the Fire Nation soldiers. For a moment, I could imagine Pakku scolding me for this.

You are a master waterbender, Katara. You are water. Change, adapt, flow.

Move around, crash against, change, flow, move—

I straightened up my back, yanked my arm free of Harok's grip, and kept walking.

.oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo.

"Why haven't they left yet?" Sokka growled lowly as he glared at Iroh and a few of his soldiers that had accompanied him to the community tent.

"Don't you know?" Harok elbowed Sokka in his side, jostling both of us because I had huddled close to my brother as soon as the adults started talking on the other side of the bonfire. "Master Pakku and Fire Lord Iroh were dear friends. Yeah right. He just doesn't want Chief Hakoda to kick his sorry old butt."

I didn't think Iroh became Fire Lord—regent or not—by allowing his sorry old butt to be kicked but I kept my mouth shut. I wasn't in the mood to argue.

Sokka looked skeptical. "Even if they were buddies it's still strange that he came into the village at all. We're a small city but we still easily outnumber his soldiers. He would have been a lot safer back on his black behemoth of a ship while we brought Pakku back here—"

"Master Pakku," I snapped. "Just because he's gone doesn't mean you can drop his title."

"Right. Sorry," Sokka said scuffing the toes of his boots on the floor. He didn't look away from the firebenders. "It's just a little weird. What does he want with us? Does he need his damn coffin back or something?"

"Looks like we're gonna find out," Harok said as both Dad and Iroh turned to the small crowd that had gathered inside the tent.

"My friends," Dad said holding up a hand to silence the chatter around us. "Today we grieve the passing of a hero..."

I tried to tune out his speech. I already knew what he would say—that Master Pakku died before his time, that we would be correlating with the Fire Nation's investigation on the matter, that while his body would be laid to rest immediately, a ceremony would be held at the next full moon...

I took a deep breath, held it in, then released it slowly.

When Dad was done speaking, the crowd began to thin out. I weaved my way through the whispering groups and made my way to him as he spoke quietly with Bato.

"Dad? Where is Gran Gran? Is she okay?" I hadn't seen her among the tribesmen that had made their way into the tent. Traditionally, spouses were present at the meetings where the news of their husband's or wife's death was shared with the rest of the tribe.

"I told your grandmother what happened before coming here to announce it. She... elected to remain in our tent for the duration of the meeting. You may want to give her some time before going home with your brother."

Which meant no, she probably wasn't okay.

"However, Fire Lord Iroh has asked if he might have a word with you. Something about what Master Pakku was working on in the Fire Nation. It seemed important, but I told him that the decision was up to you. He said he would understand if you didn't wish to. Given the circumstances."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. As if I could really refuse such a direct request from a foreign leader so easily, especially considering my father was the chief. It could be seen as an insult, or worse a weakness.

But I definitely did not want to talk to the Fire Lord about Master Pakku.

.oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo.

I found Iroh just outside the tent, laughing with one of his soldiers. He spotted me and smiled, beaconing me forward with a gentle wave of his hand. It didn't feel like a command to speak with him, but I knew better. As I came closer he tucked his hands away into his sleeves, resting them on his belly.

"Miss Katara. I am glad I caught you. I know my timing is not perfect, but I was hoping to speak with you alone for a moment."

I hesitated. Alone? With the Regent Fire Lord? Every instinct told me not to—that I should stay within sight of the others, because you can't trust a firebender. Not ever. Royalty or not. The war may have ended nearly ten years before I was born, but the horror stories didn't. They were tales that gave even the most battle-hardened tribesman nightmares. In the stories of our recent history, Firebenders were evil and that was all there was to it.

As if reading my thoughts, Lord Iroh smiled innocently. "Or perhaps you are tired. I could send word to you later after you have rested—"

"It's quite alright," I said, slipping into a practiced, formal way of speaking. "I would prefer to talk now if we could." Better to get it out of the way now rather than agonize all night over what you might have to say.

"Very good. Shall we walk?"

He gestured toward the docks, but didn't offer his arm to escort me—probably because he already knew I wouldn't take it, even if it meant offending him.

As we walked back toward the docks, I tried to shut out what had happened there earlier. It wouldn't do me any good to dwell on it now. The only thing I could do was keep moving. We passed by the spot where I had collapsed in the path and vomited. I looked away from the filth that hadn't quite mixed into the snow yet, feeling my face heat up, but Iroh eyed it carefully then looked back at me.

"There are many different kinds of grief, Miss Katara. One grief may be a sadness so consuming it afflicts the body. Your actions are nothing to be ashamed of. In fact they make what I have to say to you all the more important."

When we reached the docks, we were silent. I let the sound of the ocean lull me. At least I knew it would always be there—unchanging, unwavering, undying.

"Master Pakku, as he may have told you, was in the Fire Nation studying Water Tribe scrolls that we had... acquired during the war."

Stolen, raided, pillaged, ransacked. He didn't use those words, but I knew that's what he meant. Acquired is an awfully tame word for it, I mused.

Iroh coughed. "Well, our mutual friend had another task along with identifying which documents belonged to the two Water Tribes. He was deciding which documents would be returned to their respective owners, and which could be displayed in a world museum being opened in the Earth Kingdom next Spring."

I tried to keep the surprise off my face but knew I wasn't entirely successful. I had known he was doing research on scrolls in the Fire Nation, but I hadn't known what an important task he had been given—choosing what documents would be returned to our people and what would be shared with the rest of the world.

Iroh watched my reaction closely. "I see that you didn't know the full extent of his task. He was a great help to all of the other representatives staying with us in the palace as well."

Though I squirmed at the fact that a firebender knew something about my grandfather that I didn't, it wouldn't do me any favors to lie to the Fire Lord. "I suppose I didn't really know what he was working on. Only that he was studying Water Tribe scrolls."

Iroh smiled and looked out to the sea. "He often spoke of this place, you know. He always said that the dark months were harsh and unforgiving. But also beautiful beyond compare. A bit of a contradiction, don't you agree?" he clutched his arms and feigned a shiver. "Though I think I'm beginning to understand what he meant!" He laughed.

I didn't respond. I already knew my homeland was both beautiful and deadly. I knew that wasn't what he brought me down here to talk about.

He seemed a bit put out by my unresponsiveness. I knew I should care—I was probably insulting one of the most powerful men in the world, but I just couldn't bring myself to give a damn. Not today, at least. Maybe not ever again.

"Yes, he was a very wise man. And his knowledge was indispensable for our rather ambitious project. Imagine what weight he had carried—deciding what would be shared with the world. And what would be kept secret," he paused, letting me think about it for a moment. "A very important job indeed," he said finally.

I couldn't help but wonder, was it a job worth dying for?

I shook that thought away. If Master Pakku hadn't thought it was worth it, he would have come home months ago—no, he wouldn't have even gone to the Fire Nation in the first place if he didn't think it was worthy of his time.

So I nodded in agreement. Yes, it must have been very important to him.

"...I hope you will forgive an old man his meddling, but there was a certain piece of evidence I ordered to be removed from the investigation," Iroh said suddenly.

"What?" I snapped.

I felt my hackles rise against my will. So Sokka was right. The Fire Nation was tampering with the evidence. But why? As a cover-up? Had they really had something to do with Pakku's death? But Iroh said he had fallen off a balcony. Was he pushed? Was it staged? What if—

"Rest assured my dear, this particular article will not hinder nor help the investigation in any way. I had hoped I could entrust it to you. I believe that is what Master Pakku had intended, after all."

I paused, letting his statement soak in. What did that mean, 'that was what Master Pakku had intended'?

He pulled a rolled piece of parchment from his sleeve and I frowned. Had Pakku kept a waterbending scroll, breaking some kind of rule? Is that why Iroh had to give it to me in private? But how in the world would Iroh know that Pakku had wanted me to have it?

"I believe you will understand when you open it," he said gently. He looked back up toward the village, which glowed with a warm light now that the lanterns had been relit. "I think it is time I took my leave. My ship will be leaving for the Fire Nation within the next few hours," he winked. "Don't be late."

I had since tuned the Regent Fire Lord out, staring down at the scroll he had placed in my hands.

It was just a piece of paper. So why did it feel like a leaden weight, trying to drag me under the docks and into the darkness below?

Shaking slightly, I opened the crinkled and worn scroll as Iroh walked back to the village.

Second month, Fourth day, Year 100 A.S.C.

It feels like forever since I came to this place of fire and smoke, though I know it's only been a few weeks since our ship docked in the capitol. I still wake from dreams of ice and snow and choke on the heat and the acrid stench.

Why firebenders willingly live within the crater of a volcano is beyond my wisdom. Sometimes I wonder if they think the same of my people, living on a shelf made of ice.

The people here in the Fire Nation are not outright hostile—not to my face, anyway. Most citizens and servants go about their days as if it were any other.

However, there is the occasional soldier—old enough to know the war, and young enough to hold a grudge about it—that sees my dark skin and my blue eyes and sneers. I've taken to just ignoring them. The palace is far more pleasant when I do.

There is also a palpable tension between the royal siblings, and as a result I've had to choose my allies here carefully. There is no telling who might be watching me by order of the prince or princess, so I've made a habit of scrutinizing everyone I meet.

But despite the bad blood and smell here, I take solace in the books and scrolls of my people. Though there are fewer Water Tribe documents here than Earth Kingdom ones, they are still vast in number. Going through each one, carefully keeping track of the information, learning so many new things, reminds me of my youth when I travelled the world, studying and fighting for my tribe. It is somewhat of a thrill.

Still, though the collection is wondrous, I have to wonder why the Fire Nation felt the need to take every document they came upon, whether it be a land deed in the Earth Kingdom or a Water Tribe bedtime tale. There are so many papers, it is sometimes difficult to destinguish the truly important documents—treaties, historical stories and official deeds—from the mundane fairytales and personal letters. Why take both the important and mundane? What were they searching for, I wonder?

Whatever it may have been, it would take a better mind than my own to discover it.

I flipped the page over, hoping there would be more on the back, a more personal message for me, but there was nothing. Not even his signature. I read it again, twice, trying to take in everything he had to say to me in this somewhat cryptic letter.

I felt my eyebrows furrow at the last line. That didn't seem Like Master Pakku at all. He had always been open about his skill in combat and his considerable intellect. Pompous even. We in the Southern Water Tribe had figured that was why he had been elected to go to the Fire Nation in the first place.

But something else in his wording had struck a chord in my mind. Something Pakku used to say to us during training.

You have to be better than me if you ever want me to acknowledge you as a master waterbender.

Master Pakku had named me a master two years before he had left for the Fire Nation—the youngest master in the history of our tribe.

It will take a better mind than my own to discover it.

It clicked. This letter was for me.

However, something in the wording—the prose—felt staged; unnatural. But it was in Pakku's hand, and the date seemed correct as well...

So why did it feel wrong?

It almost felt like this letter was encouraging me to come to the Fire Nation, but that didn't make any sense. When this letter was written, Master Pakku had been alive and well, doing his duty to our tribe. He wouldn't have had any reason to write such a letter—one that he knew would tempt me to go to the Fire Nation, to read the vast amounts of history stolen by the firebenders during the seventy-five-year war.

Was this simply a diary entry—a way for Pakku to sort his thoughts? Or was this a letter he intended to send to me months ago, but never did? If so, why had he not sent it to me before?

My thoughts once again began to swirl around in circles, creating a whirlpool that threatened to drag me under. I had too many questions, and I felt like there wasn't anyone with the answers I wanted to hear.

Daddy, where's Mama? When is she coming back?

I clutched my fists to my head, dropping Pakku's letter. I wanted to pull my hair, yell that it wasn't fair. This shouldn't be tearing me apart like this. I was supposed to be stronger, better than when I was a child. But when it came down to it, death was just as cruel to me now as it was when I was too young to understand it. I had an uneasy feeling that it would always be this way no matter how much I grew up.

Through the whirl of my thoughts, something Iroh said tingled in the back of my mind.

My ship will be leaving for the Fire Nation within the next few hours.

Don't be late.

I knew exactly where I could find my answers, but that didn't mean I wanted to.

I rolled up Master Pakku's letter—my grandfather's final words to me—and tucked it close to my heart.

.oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo.

This time I jogged back to the village with sure steps, finally certain of where my path was going after being so lost and confused at the news of Master Pakku's death.

Move around it or crash against it. Move around, crash against.

I was a master waterbender, acknowledged by one of the most influential and powerful masters in the world. If I couldn't move around the obstacles and doubts in my path, then I would crash against them until they crumbled at my feet. It was the only thing I could think to do now—keep moving forward.

When I reached my family's tent, I quietly listened for any sign of my father and brother but I only heard the quiet hiccupping sobs coming from the sleeping area. Gritting my teeth against my own tears, I caressed the blanket separating me from my despairing grandmother as if it were her hair or her cheek. I couldn't imagine her pain. It was sure to be ten times worse than my own pain. While I had lost my grandfather and teacher, she had lost her lover and best friend—the man who had seemed at times to be her other half.

It made me question my hopes for the future. I had always wanted a love as great as theirs—one that couldn't be dampened by time or distance. But if this was the fate me or my lover awaited when the other was lost... well, I couldn't say I desired it as much as before.

I walked quietly to the table in the center of the living area and wrote a quick note to Dad and Sokka—ink spattering onto the wood with my haste and nerves.

I'll be fine, please don't come after me. I love you always.

Just as Pakku's last words to me were made of ink and paper and practiced words, what might be my last words to my family would be the same.

.

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Chapter Two End

.oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo. .oO000Oo.

A/N: *Ahem* So, uh, it's been a while, huh? *sweating bullets* Not much of any excuse except for work and pure laziness. Sorry about that. But I have the next chapter planned out, and hopefully it won't take so long to update again.

Until then, thank you to those of you who reviewed! They are really what drives writers to do the thing that they do, so I appreciate every single one, even if it just says "Update soon!" :)

Thank you to:

Boz, Pamthegreat, lawliness, Guest, Anony, JennyBenny, GuestOfHonor, ineedfanficanonymous, Stealthy 1, LoveMaddy, Advocaat (I'm squeeing as I write this. :D), and finally Rubellite Game.

Until next time, folks!