A:tLA - Around the Campfire
And another one for your troubles...
There was a strange gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. It had started at first when he saw Katara back down from harming her mother’s murderer. Then it prolonged on the way back to where they’d left Appa. Still, the feeling would not leave, and the ex-Prince could not figure out the reason why it didn’t. There was no fact or question he could think of that might relieve this warning, so he busied himself with returning the great sky beast back to Aang, and then returning with everyone back for Katara.
She hadn’t left from her downtrodden position since he’d left her. When he had told her he was going, she didn’t respond, but he knew his abandoned vacation home was safe for the moment. Aang was almost immediately at her side and the feeling increased.
Zuko couldn’t understand why the feeling of dread peaked when he saw the monk. And the girl. And the Water Tribe warrior. And the little blind earthbender. And the Kyoshi warrior.
That was when it came to him. The ‘why’ for his anxiety was right in front of his face. None of these people, his new companions, were capable of murder. And while one might find this reassuring, he found it grotesquely agitating. Sokka could not free him of the guard at the Boiling Rock he’d been withholding for him, nor take advantage of their lack of audience to do away with her. Suki hadn’t fatally harmed anyone that he’d seen. Toph had great strength, but he doubted anyone her age was mature enough to kill someone else on purpose. Katara had already proven that she, blinded by rage that she was, was incapable of murder.
And the Avatar’s a monk.
While once Zuko had known that it was the Avatar’s destiny to destroy his father, it felt now that it was a hopeless venture if the boy could not kill. His father would not back down if he was merely humiliated. Capture was inconceivable because of such high support he had with the people and the nobles. The only way to finish the job, the journey, was to kill his father.
Zuko wondered then, as Katara forgave him, if he would be capable of killing his father. Would Katara’s forgiveness of him be for naught if she were killed in the end? Simply because the monk refused to take a life, or that the abused son of a tyrant couldn’t right things himself?
These weren’t questions he could hold for long without seriously considering insanity.
“You were right about Katara,” he started, staring after the girl, “Violence wasn’t the answer.”
Predictably, his pupil replied, “Violence is never the answer.”
“Then I have one question for you,” he turned, staring the younger boy down hard in the eyes, “What are you going to do when you face my father?”
The question for all times. What was a monk going to do against an insane tyrant bent on destroying all races but his own? Aang’s eyes started to become heavy, eye lids dripped with doubt. Zuko knew then that even the Avatar, a twelve year old master of the elements, did not truly have an answer.
And the dread found purchase on his heart.
There was a strange gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. It had started at first when he saw Katara back down from harming her mother’s murderer. Then it prolonged on the way back to where they’d left Appa. Still, the feeling would not leave, and the ex-Prince could not figure out the reason why it didn’t. There was no fact or question he could think of that might relieve this warning, so he busied himself with returning the great sky beast back to Aang, and then returning with everyone back for Katara.
She hadn’t left from her downtrodden position since he’d left her. When he had told her he was going, she didn’t respond, but he knew his abandoned vacation home was safe for the moment. Aang was almost immediately at her side and the feeling increased.
Zuko couldn’t understand why the feeling of dread peaked when he saw the monk. And the girl. And the Water Tribe warrior. And the little blind earthbender. And the Kyoshi warrior.
That was when it came to him. The ‘why’ for his anxiety was right in front of his face. None of these people, his new companions, were capable of murder. And while one might find this reassuring, he found it grotesquely agitating. Sokka could not free him of the guard at the Boiling Rock he’d been withholding for him, nor take advantage of their lack of audience to do away with her. Suki hadn’t fatally harmed anyone that he’d seen. Toph had great strength, but he doubted anyone her age was mature enough to kill someone else on purpose. Katara had already proven that she, blinded by rage that she was, was incapable of murder.
And the Avatar’s a monk.
While once Zuko had known that it was the Avatar’s destiny to destroy his father, it felt now that it was a hopeless venture if the boy could not kill. His father would not back down if he was merely humiliated. Capture was inconceivable because of such high support he had with the people and the nobles. The only way to finish the job, the journey, was to kill his father.
Zuko wondered then, as Katara forgave him, if he would be capable of killing his father. Would Katara’s forgiveness of him be for naught if she were killed in the end? Simply because the monk refused to take a life, or that the abused son of a tyrant couldn’t right things himself?
These weren’t questions he could hold for long without seriously considering insanity.
“You were right about Katara,” he started, staring after the girl, “Violence wasn’t the answer.”
Predictably, his pupil replied, “Violence is never the answer.”
“Then I have one question for you,” he turned, staring the younger boy down hard in the eyes, “What are you going to do when you face my father?”
The question for all times. What was a monk going to do against an insane tyrant bent on destroying all races but his own? Aang’s eyes started to become heavy, eye lids dripped with doubt. Zuko knew then that even the Avatar, a twelve year old master of the elements, did not truly have an answer.
And the dread found purchase on his heart.