(Zutara) Hold it Gently; My Heart Burns For You

The Siege of the North - Part One

Sangok trembles before Katara, and so he should. The string of boys she's left snow blasted, frozen to the ground, or shivering where they stand are testament to her sparring skills. By the time she makes it to Sangok she's bored. Time to mix things up.

When Sangok shakily summons his snow and throws it, she's quick to catch it, melt it, let the momentum spin her in the snow, and bend a wave of water that swoops under Sangok and sweeps him into the air. She freezes it with a wave of her hand, suspending Sangok in an icy trap. She waves prettily up at him, and his blush alone almost melts through her trap.

"Nice try, pupil Sangok," Pakku's displeased voice slices the fresh, morning air. He goes on, leaving Sangok to struggle in the ice above the rest of his pupil's heads. "A couple of more years and you might be ready to fight a sea sponge." A wave of his hand dispels the ice, dropping Sangok into a flurry of snow. "Would anyone care for a rematch with Katara?"

Some of the boys actually try to disappear into the evaporating snow vapour Sangok's fall kicked up. The others pretend not to have heard their teacher.

Pakku hums in amusement, turning back to his star pupil. "Katara, you've advanced far more quickly than any student I've ever trained. You have proven that with fierce determination, passion and hard work, you can accomplish anything." Their shared moment evaporates with a happy chortle off to the side. Pakku turns, effortlessly resuming his displeased disposition. "Raw talent alone is not enough. Pupil Aang!"

Aang freezes, dropping the airball and the floating Momo onto his head. "Yes, Master Pakku?"

"Care to step into the sparring circle?" The Master's sarcasm could cut the ice. "I figure since you've found time to play with house pets, you must have already mastered waterbending."

Katara knows before Aang even opens his mouth that the point has gone right over his smooth head. "I wouldn't say mastered but check this out!"

He twists, effortlessly bending the snow around him to form a snowman of himself, arrow and all. While Katara isn't impressed, Momo can't seem to tell which is which, diving onto the snowman until it's nothing but a snow corpse.

Wisely, Pakku chooses to end the lesson there. For the other students.

While the boys and Aang disband, Katara begins the real training. If she thought Pakku was strict before he let her into his lessons, his one-on-one teachings are as severe as the glacier peaks. Slowly at first then in a flood of drills, meditations, and circuits, Katara's bending refines, her reflexes sharpen.

He begins advising she take in more proteins to aid her sore muscles. Her body quakes in the night, hungry for motion under the glowing moon. But if Pakku even senses her recovery isn't sufficient he alters the training to meditations, stretching and focusing on the pushes and pulls of their element.

He sits now on the firm packed ice walls during her warm downs, legs dangling over the edge, cup of tea steaming in his lap. It's then she likes him most, in the quiet reflective moments that make her think of Iroh.

"I downplayed it in front of the others, you know," her master mumbles between sips. "You'd already beaten them down, and I am supposed to be their teacher, not destroying the confidence of our future warriors. But you are admirable."

"Wow, tell me how you really feel," Katara teases as she hinges at the waist, bringing her arm up and over her head, seeking to release the sweet ache in her back a good day of training builds.

Pakku smiles softly and his eyes find a distant place. The future, where the sun will break the new spring horizon? Or perhaps sixty years in the past when he was young, in love, and had no idea the heartache awaiting him. "I never could have predicted how strong you'd become. When I was your age the idea of a woman warrior was..."