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On the outskirts of Katara's village in the South Pole, there sits a old, rundown hut.

No one has lived in it for years.

After the long and howling winters where the skies turned black, Katara would gather her courage and sneak over. She found it buried in heavy heaps of snow. Katara remembers Gran-Gran telling her to stay away, but she wouldn't explain why.

Katara had only been a child, looking up awestruck to the thick daggers of ice hanging above her little head, ignoring her mother's calls.

Gran-Gran told her the story about Nini a year before Katara and Sokka left with Aang: Nini, a ghost girl living in the hut, was their mother's friend and vanished in a snowstorm along with her family. It is believed, however, that Nini's ghost is trapped there.

Sokka rolls his eyes and grunts whenever Katara retells Nini's story at the tribal bonfires. He still doesn't wander by the hut.

In the distance, everyone can see the hut's chimney smoking. A large, grey plume rises towards the clouds. Hakoda watches it with suspicion, unaware of his hands clutching on Bato's whale's tooth scimitar. "You better go," he murmurs to Katara.

"I know."

"Don't let your guard down, Katara."

The corner of Katara's mouth lifts in amusement.

"I know, Dad," she repeats, waiting for him to lean in. Hakoda's mouth presses to the top of Katara's head. He worries. Katara doesn't blame him. Ever since they got back to the Southern Water Tribe, she senses the tension mounting.

(Maybe they should have waited, too.)

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Rounding the glacier landmasses, Katara spots the hut.

There's a single window beside the front door, or what remained of a door, illuminated in a bright gold firelight. Katara doesn't bother with announcing herself, jamming the door open and lifting up the curtain of soft, dried-out animal skin with her arm.

Someone walks along the rugs, but it's no ghost.

Azula peels off her wolf-fur jacket dyed in hues of red. She flings it aside.

The inside of Nini's hut feels sweltering hot and dense. Hot enough to make the back of Katara's neck drip with sweat. Katara isn't sure if it is Azula's inherent firebending doing this to her or the flames leaping visibly from the coal-pit.

"What is it?" Azula snaps. Her voice raspy-dark. A figment out of Katara's lurid imaginings.

Katara frowns, looking around the hut. "Where is Zuko?"

Azula drapes herself into a bear-skinned chair nearby, examining her dirtied, unpolished nails and curling an upper lip in displeasure. No royal manicures here. "I believe he's gone to speak with the Avatar," she murmurs, unfazed.

"He left you alone?"

"You sound surprised." Azula's bright gold eyes — memorizing and dangerously tempting like firelight — narrow. She smirks. "I told Zuzu I wouldn't burn this horrible filth down if he stepped out. He trusts me which is quite a change from the past." Katara doesn't take her gaze from Azula as the other young woman reaches for Zuko's bag, not looking at Katara. "Do you intend to punish me for what I haven't done?"

"No…" Katara blurts out.

She hesitates, her throat tightening impossibly hard as Katara swallows.

"It's… it's not that I don't want to trust you…"

"It's that you, presently, don't," Azula drawls. "Spare me the foolish pretenses, peasant. I don't need your coddling."

Katara can't help it. The flare of anger residing in her about Azula, what she's done to Aang and Sokka, to her, and what Azula's nation has done to her people, leaps high within her like the flames. "My name is Master Katara, princess," she says, scowling.

A long, slow cackle escapes Azula.

"It seems… there is a cold vein deep inside you, isn't there?"

Azula stands with her full height, grinning. Her black hair shimmers in the gold-glow.

"You try to hide it behind a face of gentle optimism and understanding… is that it? Is it that you want to be perceived as warm to others?" Katara stiffens, inhaling when Azula's lips hover close to hers. "But that… that… that cruel barb of ice exposes whenever you and your loved ones feel threatened…" Azula's forefinger twirls and points to Katara's heart. "You don't want it to melt away…"

Katara's teeth grit. She reveals nothing, shutting her eyes, taking a deep breath before her muscles relax.

"Nothing you can say to me… nothing will make me give you what you want, Azula," Katara mumbles, pretending to be annoyed more than unnerved. It's working a little. "I'm not going to attack you and hand over a reason for you to escape from my village."

"Where would I go?" Azula scoffs. "There's nothing for miles, and the Avatar's beast would sooner crush me than obey."

"For once, we agree on something."

A phantom of Azula's grin reappears, and Katara scolds herself. This is the wrong person for her.

(Isn't it?)

.

.

She runs.

She runs until Katara's little legs ache.

The bits of snowy ash cling to her eyelashes. Katara runs and runs, and the more she runs, the more she can hear her father's grieving wails from inside their home. The sound reverberates inside Katara's chest straining and rattling for air.

Bato drags a confused Sokka away from the entrance, ignoring the loud and wide-eyed questions.

He doesn't grab Katara in time.

"Katara…"

Her mother's body cradles in Hakoda's quivering hands.

Smoke and heat clings to Katara's nostrils. An odor like charred meat. She doesn't understand why her mother isn't waking.

"Katara…"

Azula lowers her hands, dubious, as the other woman bolts upright from the pile of furs. It's like she was prepared to shake Katara back into consciousness. Katara pants, wiping off her moistened, sleepy eyelids. She must have lost track of time.

"You were having a nightmare."

Katara groans.

She feels the weight of the bear fur-lined chair underneath her, and the fire's smolder. She's no longer trapped in her memory.

"… Did something happen to your mother?"

At the mutter, Katara goes crestfallen. Her mouth drops open.

"Don't look at me like I've grown another head," a sneering Azula declares. "You were calling out for her."

Katara pushes her hands over her face, wiping off the rest of her sweat and tears. Strands of dark brown hair slicking back.

"A Fire Nation soldier killed her when I was a child. It happened during one of the raids on my village," she says grimly. "He was looking for a waterbender and my mother said to him that she was the waterbender. So she died at his hands instead of me."

Azula examines her, propping an arm under her chin and digging the point of her nail gently to her lip.

She doesn't look sympathetic, but thoughtful.

"Zuzu visited while you were asleep. We are departing to the palace as soon as the sun rises—not that you're welcomed to join us." Something similiar to an uncomfortable emotion passes over Azula's features. "You could, however, come—if you wanted to—" Azula gazes sideways, letting her hand fall away. "—not that I want you there," she huffs. "That would be ridiculous."

A half-smile tugs at Katara's mouth.

"Would it?"

There's a high-pitched, dismissive noise from Azula. She tilts up her nose, dusting herself off and facing away from Katara.

Everything seems rosy-warm inside Nini's hut.

(Like Azula's cheeks.)

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