Welcome to The Game, the "third" and final installment to my first-season Zutara "trilogy."
This is the sequel to Bent and The Ho'Wan Island Carnival, so if you haven't read those, please do, otherwise little in this story will make sense. Canonically speaking, this story takes place a few weeks after "The Deserter."
Captured! The Zutara Musical was based on a parody of this story, really, so some of the parts have admittedly been taken straight from there. Not because I'm lazy, but because Fate has a funny way of making things happen.
It's been a long time in the making, mostly because I've been working on several other fics at the same time, so my apologies to everyone who's been waiting since last year for this.
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar. If I did, the series would have way too much Zutara to stomach.
But you didn't come here to read A/Ns, so without further ado...
THE GAME
Part One
"Just as each nation's benders utilize different defensive and offensive tactics to vanquish their enemies and seize their quarry, so do the creatures of the wondrously diverse animal kingdom. One of the most fascinating beasts I've ever encountered, however, is the wily chameleon-fox.
"The sleek and powerful chameleon-fox is one of nature's most distinctive predators mainly because of its unique habit of fixating on its prey. Once a fox has singled out a particular creature for its next meal, it will pursue it until either it is caught and consumed, or the fox expires from starvation. Such single-mindedness has made the chameleon-fox both an endangered animal, as well as a revered and respected one, especially in the Fire Nation, where this behaviour is considered to be mirroring Agni's Codes of Honor (see appendix XII, vi). As a result, chameleon-foxes have been deemed sacred in the Fire Nation, and no one may hunt them. To do so would constitute sacrilege and the penalty for poaching one is death. (Note: Fire Lord Ozai is rumoured to possess a cloak made entirely of chameleon-fox fur. Hearsay claims it lines his throne in the palace to show the people Agni favours his bloodline.)
"Perhaps what is most interesting about these handsome but utterly flawed mammals is its ability to adapt its hunting tactics. Not only have I observed a lone chameleon-fox track down and chase its prey for miles beyond its own territory over the course of several weeks, but I have also witnessed it collaborate with other foxes (which is unusual for this fiercely independent and lonesome animal) and I have even witnessed it set traps.
"Such complex thinking patterns coupled with the practical ability to devise and bait an effective snare would seem to indicate a higher intelligence in the chameleon-fox. (the fabrication and use of tools has been observed in other animals after all—See appendix IV, xiii) However, the fox entirely lacks the ability to foresee complications, thus a change in circumstances will not usually result in a victory for the fox. On occasion, such traps draw worthier kill, but the chameleon-fox, so bent on its quarry, will ignore them in favour of its meal of choice…."
Excerpt from "Observations of the hunting habits of the chameleon-fox", (unpublished)by Professor Emeritus Zei, Ba Sing Se University.
Chapter One
Sokka brought his arm down, smashing Katara's soft shoulder with his elbow. She cried out as she hit the cold, wet, grey sand.
Eyes watering, the Waterbender rubbed the spot between her shoulder and neck where her brother's blow had connected, wincing at the throbbing ache. The young Water Tribe warrior helped his sister to her feet, shouting, "Katara, you were supposed to roll!"
"Well, how am I supposed to roll with you standing in my way?" she yelled back angrily, shoving him hard.
"Good! Fight back!" Sokka urged, eyes ablaze. Instantly, Katara's anger dissipated and was replaced by confusion.
"Huh? What are you...Sokka, why are you doing this?" she whined in exasperation, but the boy lunged in another offensive attack. This time, instead of ducking, the Waterbender grabbed a huge snake of water from the ocean and sent the force of the coiled torrent straight down onto her brother, forcing him flat onto his front.
He pulled himself up off the ground quickly, his sand-covered tongue lolling out his mouth. He spat and wiped the organ off as best as he could while severely admonishing his younger sister.
"Kah-ta-ah, yah nah sah-posd to uth wah ending!" He grabbed the canteen and rinsed his mouth out repeatedly, spitting grainy water out.
"You were going to attack me!" Katara argued. "What, I'm just supposed to let you hit me again?"
"The whole point of me training you to fight hand-to-hand was so you wouldn't have to rely solely on your bending." Sokka wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "You won't always have that ability—what if you break your arm, or you get tied up?" Sokka turned away, dripping. Katara pursed her lips. She had no intention of pointing out to him—yet again—that if she were in either of those positions, she would be unable to fight regardless of what she knew. He put his hands on his hips, scowling. "Twenty push ups. Now."
"What?" Katara yelped.
"Twenty-five." Sokka said evenly.
Katara's face went dark with rage, but she refused to let her big bossy brother add any more to the penalty. She would do as she was told because she had agreed it was a good idea when Sokka had proposed it.
"We all need to get in shape," he had said one night, several days after they had stopped at that strange island where the benders had lost their powers. "All this time traveling on Appa's back is making us soft."
Aang and Katara both cocked eyebrows at the young man. "Would you prefer we walk to the North Pole?" Katara needled. "Maybe your instincts have something to say about that?"
Sokka shot his sister a look that shut her up. He was deadly serious. He had looked just like their father did when he was disciplining them.
"Look, we can't rely on luck and bending anymore. Not only do we have Zuko after us, but now this Zhao guy, as well, and frankly, I don't know which is worse. I mean, who knows who else will be after us? It won't be long before those wanted posters will have pictures of Katara and me, too," he said.
Katara shuddered. The notices they had seen of Aang outside the Fire Days festival a week or so ago had chilled all three of them to the bone.
Sokka turned to his sister. "We're not always near water, and you need to be able to defend yourself in case…" He trailed off, looking away. "I just want to make sure that you'll be able to protect yourself. That you'll fight back and fight hard if something happens."
It had been a grim and sobering conversation. Katara didn't really understand where this concern had suddenly come from. Sokka seemed to have aged ten years over the last few days. Since their narrow escape from Zhao, he had become more paranoid than ever, insisting she and Aang both stay hidden while he went into town alone to collect supplies for their trip. He made sure they did not stop unnecessarily. He had even stopped complaining about his hunger, letting his loud stomach gurgles speak for him instead.
"What exactly do you expect us to do?" Aang asked, and the Water boy explained it simply. Exercise, lots of strength training, and finally, fighting practice.
Aang shook his head at this.
"It sounds like a good idea, but really, I only fight to protect and defend," he explained a little sheepishly. "I may be the Avatar, but I'm a monk, too. I fight to help save myself and others, and bending is the least harmful way I can do that. I don't go around punching people; I resolve conflict, not cause it. I won't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it," he said resolutely.
Katara thought she heard her brother mutter something about Zuko, but she let it pass.
With a little more persuasion, Katara and Aang both agreed to train. In their spare time after they set up camp, Sokka would make them run laps along a strip of beach, do sit-ups and push-ups, and lift and carry heavy rocks from one place to another, all without bending. Sokka was especially focused on his sister's development, designing trials to make her stronger, increase her endurance, or make her more flexible or agile. Aang worked mostly on his upper body strength—for some reason, he was bent on having pythons for arms, but to his dismay, all he could manage on his scrawny 13-year-old body were a couple of lumpy pricklesnakes.
Sokka did not lie idle, either. He led by example, and did all the exercises along with them. He dearly wished they all had more to eat, as the workout routines left them famished, but he did not complain, and chose to forage for as much protein as he could find rather than give up on this vital physical training.
He didn't tell either of his companions, but there had been a few nights he'd made stew with grubs he'd collected from under some rocks, passing them off as berries or roots in. Aang, being a vegetarian, probably wouldn't have eaten the creatures, and Katara would have screamed and dropped the precious protein-filled meal. But Sokka knew they all needed it if they wanted to get stronger and stay that way. He closed his eyes and tried very hard not to think about how the fat white bugs wriggled, swallowing the stew down as quickly as he could without tasting it. The others made no comment about the meal. Katara just seemed happy not to be the one cooking for once.
And so time passed this way for what felt like weeks. Every night, Katara would go to bed sore and exhausted, but she felt herself getting stronger, and her tiny muscles slowly began to take form in her willowy body. Despite her hunger, she woke up every morning with more energy, and felt her moods lift with the sun.
It had all been fun and games until Sokka started teaching her how to spar. While Aang ran back and forth along the beach, deciding against the sparring lessons and saving his energy for bending practice, Sokka showed Katara how to make every blow count, and how to spot where attacks would come from and block them with quick and effective ripostes. He tried to get her to throw a few roundhouse punches, but they were so feeble, Sokka decided to focus on other ways she might cause some damage.
So he started to teach her how to fight dirty. Eye gouging, hair pulling, windpipe crushing—Sokka showed her every low blow he could think of. She'd protested irately at first: she wasn't weak, wasn't afraid of a little hard work. She wanted to fight the way the boys in her village learned how to fight, the way her brother fought. Just because she was a girl didn't make her less capable.
But it did. It wasn't chauvinism, Sokka explained patiently. And Katara realized he was right: she was at a huge disadvantage because of her relative size and undeveloped body. She couldn't even beat Aang in an arm wrestle! She had to learn how to "fight like a girl," as Sokka put it. That way, if she ever got into a situation where she had to fight with all she had, she would fight will ALL she had.
"You're a girl—a guy is going to expect you to fight dirty," Sokka said simply. "So make sure you hit 'em where it hurts and then get away as fast as you can, understand?"
Then the training got hard. Sokka began actively participating in their sparring lessons. Up until then, he had simply pointed at the different vulnerable parts of his body and made her lightly strike them so she knew where they were, then go through various offensive and defensive forms. Now he was her opponent, and he was not being easy on her. When she complained of his treatment, he would look at her coldly and order her to do a set of push ups as punishment. She only complied because she wanted to prove she could do it, that she was not as weak as everyone seemed to think. Her brother was right, of course, and she couldn't allow herself to become dependent on bending. But it did not stop her from being cross with Sokka.
So here she was, face down in the cold, wet sand, dripping sweat, fuming and making the nearby surf heave and splash loudly as each push up worsened her simmering mood.
All this the Avatar watched with great trepidation. But he did not interfere. He knew why Sokka was being so hard on his little sister, even though he did not fully understand it.
Sokka himself was silently thankful that the young boy kept his counsel. Ever since the cursed island, Aang had stayed away from the topic of the Fire Prince. The night after they had narrowly escaped from Zuko, Sokka had taken him aside while Katara was asleep and told him why he had lied to her about everything that had happened.
He explained how it would only frighten and confuse Katara if he told his sister about how she had been possessed by the centuries-old spirit of a Waterbending Avatar name Karanna, and how she had taken a centuries-dead Firebender named Zuko for a lover. He would especially NOT tell his sister about how she had kissed the contemporary Prince Zuko during her possession. And he definitely would not reveal his deepest suspicions about the Fire Nation prince's feelings for his sister to either of his companions.
Sokka hated lying to his sister. He could see her watching him thoughtfully, as though peering into his brain for the missing answers, searching for the pieces of the puzzle, the forgotten night on the strange island. And Sokka was a terrible liar.
But he did it for her. He had promised his father he'd protect her. Even from herself.
Would Dad have done the same? he asked himself at night as they turned into their sleeping bags. No reply ever came.
It was true—Sokka had aged on the inside. The cursed island had changed him, made him see that some things were more important than others. He'd realized it the moment he chose to save his sister over the Avatar and knew it was the wrong choice. He knew there was something much more important than either his promise to his father, or his sister's life.
That was why he had to do this. That was why he had to make sure Katara would be okay on her own.
They were ready, he decided sombrely. It was time to have the big talk.
"Katara, I want to talk to you about something," he said quietly as she got up from her push-ups.
"No!" Aang shouted.
"Aang, you have to stop the comet and save the world. Mastering the elements is the only way you can do that, and you'd have an easier time of it if you didn't have us tagging along with you everywhere," Sokka said.
Katara stared at her hands. Her brother sounded so cold, so callous.
"I won't leave you behind!" Aang yelled.
"Listen, we're not going to leave you in the middle of the night or anything," Sokka explained. "We're with you right to the end. But if the Fire Nation catches us, or we get in a tight spot, I don't want anyone to have any leverage against you. We're not going to be bait for a trap, understand?"
Katara peeked up at the young monk's face. He looked hurt, torn between the logic of Sokka's argument and his attachment to the Water Tribe children. They were a family, the only family Aang had now that the Air Nomads had perished and the Water children's parents were gone. She wanted nothing more than to go to him, comfort him and promise never to leave his side.
But she knew Sokka was right. There had been too many close calls, too many opportunities when the Fire Nation could have locked them all away. Their most recent encounter with Zhao reminded them of just how dangerous their situation was. Thus far, only incredible luck had spared them, but one day, their luck would run out.
Sokka pinned the little monk with a devastating look. "Promise you'll leave us behind if we get caught," he said firmly.
"NO!" Aang shouted, jumping to his feet. "How could you even think I'd let the Fire Nation just keep you locked up? Who knows what they could do to you!"
"I'm willing to take that chance," Sokka said sternly. He kept his eyes trained on Aang. "Once they realize we're not important to you anymore, they'll let us go."
"Or they'll forget about you and leave you to die in some dungeon, or they'll send you to the coal mines, or worse! No Sokka, that's final, I'm not going to give up on either of you. Never!"
Sokka sighed and washed his face with his palms, moaning a little. "Katara."
She got up and took both the 13-year-old's hands in hers, squeezing them, looking into his blazing grey eyes imploringly.
"Aang, there's no way around it. You're the Avatar. You have to learn the elements and you have to stop the Fire Lord when Sozin's comet arrives. If we get captured, you can free us after you've defeated him. Even if we were captured tomorrow, we'd only be stuck for a few months…and that's not long. We'd be okay. But you have to end the war. You have to stop Ozai."
The boy bowed his head, the anger on his face melting into despair. "I don't know if I can stop him..." he whispered. "Not without you guys."
Katara put her fingers under his chin and tipped his face up, a watery smile riplling her features. "You will. I know you will." She placed a tender kiss on the blue arrow tattoo on his brow.
It did little to cheer Aang up, though. The siblings were right about his duty as the Avatar, of course. He had even considered leaving them in the safety of the Northern Water Tribe to pursue his destiny, keeping them out of harm's way.
But he was only 13 and the last of his kind. All he had left of his people were Appa and Momo. But the Airbenders weren't his people anymore, not really. Sokka and Katara were. They were his family. Katara had said so herself.
Being part of a family meant the world to him.
Didn't it mean something to them?