tigriswolf | five cries of the owl were heard - "Avatar" fic - PG

Title: five cries of the owl were heard

Fandom: “Avatar: The Last Airbender”

Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.

Warnings: AU—Sozin’s Comet does not exist, Iroh and Zuko never met up after their separation, and I have kindamaybesorta bent the timeline to suit my needs.

Pairings: none stated

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 8860

Point of view: third

There is a fifth kind of ’bending, all but forgotten save in the far corners of the world. Very few know of it; it was rare when the Air Nomads still lived and the South Pole was a thriving metropolis.

Kana had told her daughter-by-marriage of it, but Kya did not believe her.

o0o

Certain people, Azulon had told his firstborn son, have the ability to ’bend others to their will. They are leaders, powerful and unstoppable. A Fire Lord must have that gift.

Azulon never told his firstborn that he did not have that spark; Iroh knew anyway.

Ozai, Iroh also knew, lacked it as well. Ursa, though, she was truly gifted.

And so were her children.

o0o

The Avatar would always walk with legends. Gyatso had told him to be ready, that his life could never be simple or easy.

“There is a fifth kind of ’bending,” Gyatso had told him, tucking him into bed as a young child, already caring more than he should. “No Avatar has ever had it; that is the one weakness granted to those who wield the four.”

“You will meet someone gifted with it, Aang,” Gyatso had whispered, pressing a kiss to the young Avatar’s brow. “If you have their loyalty and love, you cannot fail.”

o0o

“You are a deep lake of potential,” Iroh told his nephew. Your sister is a shallow stream. But there is one who has the raw strength of a roaring ocean.”

Zuko slept on and Iroh sat guard. Azula and Ozai’s forces were not far behind them, and Iroh knew that to be caught was a death sentence for them both. He would allow his nephew a few more minutes of rest and then they must be on their way.

o0o

“Have you heard of the fifth kind of ’bending?” Aang asked Katara, dodging her waterwhip.

“No,” she replied. “What is it?”

“It’s a legend,” Toph said, throwing boulders at them both. “Mom used to tuck me in with stories about it.”

Aang caught one of the boulders and tossed it at Katara; she shattered it with her whip.

“So, what is it?” Katara asked again.

Shrugging, Aang blasted her with a wind. “Gyatso never really told me. He was going to, I think, but then I learned I was the Avatar and other things were more important.”

Toph dodged Katara’s whip and deflected Aang’s wind with a rockwall. “Mom said it had to do with humans—a humanbender, maybe.”

Katara and Aang both stared at her. “A humanbender?” Katara asked after a moment. “’bending a person like they’re water or fire?”

“Is that possible?” Aang shuddered.

Toph shrugged, using their distraction to take advantage. “Is it harder to believe than bloodbending?”

o0o

Zuko found it easy to pass from town to town in plain sight after leaving Uncle. If he acted like the scar meant nothing, others followed his lead.

He missed Uncle with a sharp ache that never left. He trained himself to exhaustion every night so he could sleep. He used the name Li and tried to forget the courtly manners pounded into him as Crown Prince of the Fire Nation.

He was no longer Zuko, son of Ozai and Ursa, Heir of the Fire Throne. He was Li, an Earth Kingdom refugee. He was no better than anyone else.

Sometimes, he dreamed of Uncle telling him fanciful stories about dragons and spirits and a fifth kind of ’bending, an ability so terrible and great that the world trembled when a master was born.

o0o

Sokka remembered his mother holding him, both of them curled up with Dad. Katara wasn’t yet born, so Sokka had been very young.

GranGran came into their tent, gasping for breath. “Hakoda, Kya!” she cried. “I’ve had a vision! Wake up!”

Dad lunged to his feet and Mom rolled behind him, sheltering Sokka.

GranGran had tears on her face. “Mother?” Dad asked, lowering his spear. “What’s wrong?”

The memory is very dim in Sokka’s mind, pushed deep into the darkness. But sometimes, as he’s sleeping, it plays for him, if a full moon is shining.

“I had a vision,” GranGran repeated, falling to her knees. “Someone, a direct descendant of you, my son, will be the most powerful ’bender in the world.”

Mom stared down at Sokka, tracing a finger along his jaw, up to his forehead. “A waterbender?” she whispered.

But GranGran shook her head, trembling as Dad helped her to her feet. “No,” she murmured, shuffling forward, arms held out for Sokka. Mom gently handed him over and GranGran examined him. “Sokka,” she said softly. “You are a legend.”

The next year, Katara was born and snow danced when she laughed—the last waterbender of the South Pole.

Mom and Dad forgot GranGran’s midnight visit, but Sokka always felt GranGran’s eyes on him. He never showed any skill beyond a normal, nonbending boy, but GranGran still watched.

She had told her daughter-by-marriage of the fifth ’bending, but Kya did not believe her.

To Sokka, she said nothing.

o0o

Iroh and Zuko had gone their separate way; Iroh thought it a mistake, but Zuko could not be swayed. He felt the need to prove himself, to show his father he could survive.

Iroh had once felt the same, and much wisdom could be gained by being alone. So he let Zuko go, following discretely at a distance. But then, by chance—if destiny could ever be chance—Iroh found the Avatar.

Toph, the dear girl, welcomed Iroh. Aang and Sokka, too; but Katara kept to her hatred of anything firebender related for nearly a week before Iroh’s charms won her over.

Azulon had never said, You do not have the gift. Iroh is a powerful firebender, the Dragon of the West. If he had challenged Ozai, there is every chance he would have won. But Iroh had never wanted the throne—he simply wanted peace, family, a life away from war and pain and blood.

And the Avatar, for all his power, was just a little boy in love with fun.

Iroh is a firebender, elder brother of the Fire Lord, beloved uncle of the banished Fire Prince. He offered his services to the Avatar, offered to train the last airbender in fire.

He marveled at the raw power in the group: the Avatar, Toph, and Katara, and himself. But his gaze often went to Sokka, the only nonbender, blood brother to Katara, but family of the other two, as well.

You are a deep lake, Iroh had told Zuko as the boy slept. Your sister is a shallow stream. He did not mention Ursa, his sweet sister-by-marriage, who should never have joined with Ozai. She had been a firebender, descended from Roku, but so weak of one… compared to Ozai, she was no more powerful than an infant.

Watching Sokka, the half-trained warrior with no element, Iroh remembered Ursa with a sharp, abiding ache. Ursa was barely a firebender, yes—

She was so much more.

o0o

Aang’s memories of Gyatso were so fresh in his mind. Gyatso had loved him, had tried to teach him to do right, to find the correct path.

At night, stretched out on Appa, he searched the sky for Gyatso. Am I doing right? he asked, and waited for an answer. None came, so he asked again. Am I doing right? Tell me, please!

He sighed and threw himself into the air. He flew higher and higher, reaching for the moon. Yue, he tried. Won’t you talk to me?

But the sky remained silent. He slumped and floated back down. As he touched the ground, he asked aloud, “If I knew the fifth ’bending, could I stop the Fire Lord?”

And finally a voice answered, “No, young Avatar.” He turned to see sifu Iroh, sitting cross-legged with a teacup in his hands.

“You know about the fifth ’bending?” Aang hurried over and settled across from him. “My old teacher mentioned it, but never explained.”

Sifu Iroh nodded, eyes bright in the moonlight. “It is rare, Avatar Aang. Only a handful left in the world have the gift. It has gone by many names over the years.” He sipped his tea, sighing in pleasure. “One of the greatest things in life is a hot cup of jasmine tea,” he said.

“Sifu Iroh,” Aang asked, “what is the fifth kind of ’bending?”

Sifu Iroh bowed his head, staring into the tea. “It is a form of control, Aang,” he said softly. “A ’bending that reaches into someone else’s body and suppresses their will.”

“Like bloodbending? Katara can do that.”

Sifu Iroh shook his head. “No,” he replied, lifting his eyes back to meet Aang’s gaze. “A strong ’bender can take another bender and control their own power.”

Aang stared at him, horrified. “What?”

“If I were the fifth kind of ’bender,” sifu Iroh explained, “then I could reach into your body and force you to airbend, or any of the others.”

Aang shuddered. “That’s terrible,” he whispered. “Sifu Iroh—do you know who has that power?”

Sifu Iroh sighed again, this time wearily. “Very few, young Avatar. My nephew and his sister, possibly a few of the old Earth Kingdom hiding in the mountains. Maybe a couple of the Water Tribe, scattered in the far corners of the world.”

“Azula can ’bend a person?” Aang demanded. “But she—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, too horrified at the thought.

“Azula barely has it,” sifu Iroh told him. “Zuko is far more powerful. I think if they had been trained like their mother—perhaps the world would be different. If Sozin had not been a ’bender, his vision would not have engulfed all the nations.”

Aang sat there in silence, trying to think of how to phrase his question, when sifu Iroh continued, “It is your destiny to return balance to the world. You are the Avatar, master of the four natural elements.” Sifu Iroh poured another mug full of tea and offered it to Aang. As he took it, sifu Iroh said, “I do not believe it is your destiny to kill my brother.”

Blinking in shock, Aang sipped his tea.

Sifu Iroh’s smile was kind as he stood and shuffled to his bedroll.

“Thank you,” Aang called after him. He spent the rest of the night watching the sky, wishing for Gyatso’s guidance.

o0o

Zuko first felt the ability when a gang of Earth Kingdom peasants attacked him. He was just passing through the town, hadn’t done any firebending in days, and was very hungry. He’d stopped in to buy some feed for his ostrich-horse. He didn’t want trouble and he worked hard to keep his temper.

But the peasants, half a dozen of them, formed a circle and demanded anything he had of value. Leeka snarled, lowering her head. The leading peasant prodded her with his spear.

“The beast counts,” he said. “Get off and empty your pack.”

Zuko was exhausted and hungry, and he hissed, “Leave me alone.” He didn’t want to kill them; it’d make his life even more complicated.

The closest peasant stared up at him. “He’s got yellow eyes!” the boy called. “Taru, he’s Fire Nation!”

Taking a deep breath, Zuko prepared to fight. He decided to try once more, putting every ounce of his royal tone in the words: “Let me through.”

The peasants backed away. Zuko watched in shock. It took a moment for him to cluck to Leeka and he guided her all the way to the forest on the other side of town. He untacked her and gave her the last treat he had. “You’re a good girl,” he told her. “Forage here while I go get some real supplies.”

Leeka preened his hair with her beak and he smoothed the feathers on her neck. “Leeka,” he said, “stay near here. I’ll be back.”

Zuko knew it was dangerous, going back, but Leeka needed real food, and so did he.

He had no idea why those thugs had let him through, so he’d be on guard. He still had his Dao blades, but he’d never been so tired or so hungry.

Soon after sunset, Zuko snuck into town. He found stalls at the marketplace still stocked; he filled three bags full, more oats and cornmeal than meat, and then he silently made his way back to camp.

Leeka greeted him by twining her neck around him. “Eat up, then sleep,” he told her, dumping half of one of the bags on the ground. “We leave at dawn.”

He dreamed of Azula and his father burning Mom alive, no matter how screamed at them to stop.

o0o

“What you told Aang,” Sokka said, coming up beside Iroh. “Is it true?”

“Oh, very much so,” Iroh answered. He turned to face Sokka, but the boy kept looking out over the water, at Katara and the Avatar having a water-fight while Toph made a sandcastle by hand. “Why do you ask?”

Iroh studied the young Water Tribe warrior, seeing the man he’d become if he survived this quest. Sokka said nothing, jaw clenched. They stood in silence and the antics of the children below made Iroh feel each of his years.

“If somebody could do that ’bending,” Sokka said, still not looking at Iroh. “How would they know?”

Toph yelled as a wave hit her castle. Aang apologized while Katara laughed.

Turning, Sokka’s ice-blue eyes sheared into Iroh. “How would they know?” he repeated, voice low.

Iroh answered, “They would know when they needed to know, when the power revealed itself.”

“So it’s not like waterbending?” Sokka lowered his gaze, bringing up a hand to rub his chin.

“No.” Iroh looked back at the lake. “It is nothing like ’bending one of the four. No child has the control for it.”

“Controlling someone else’s power,” Sokka asked softly. “Isn’t that wrong?” He sank to the ground, legs splayed out before him. “Taking someone’s will away?”

Iroh carefully settled next to him. “It is simply another weapon, Sokka,” he replied. “If it is possessed by someone they must learn to use it or it will destroy them.” He nodded to the children, to Aang and Toph and Katara. “They are powerful. I doubt there’s more than a handful of ’benders in the world who equal them.” Placing a hand on Sokka’s tense shoulder, Iroh told him, “You walk with legends.”

Groaning, he rose to his feet. “I have gotten old,” he moaned. “I need some tea.”

Sokka sprang up and looked him in the eyes. His gaze had thawed and he gave Iroh a Fire Nation bow. “Thank you, sifu Iroh,” he said. “You have been a great help.”

Iroh watched him walk away, past Appa and the campsite, into the woods.. He did not once look back or slow his pace.

His suspicions confirmed, Iroh whispered, “I wish you luck, young Sokka. You will need it, I fear, before balance is restored.”

o0o

Toph’s mother used to tell her stories; it was the only way she’d fall asleep. She learned of earthbending masters, the Earth Kingdom Avatars, and the great battles of the past.

Whenever Mom gave her a choice of tales, she picked the fifth kind of ’bending.

“Very few ’benders exist,” Mom said. “It’s the rarest form of all.”

“Have any of them ever gone bad?” Toph asked.

“Yes,” Mom answered. “I think Fire Lord Sozin was one. He used that ’bending to push forward the attacks.”

“But what do they ’bend?” Toph clutched her stuffed badgermole. “Is it an element?”

“No.” Mom leaned close, threading her fingers in Toph’s hair. “They ’bend others’ bodies, their spirits.”

Toph shivered and Mom said, “That’s enough stories for tonight.”

Soon after, Mom decided that adventure stories were not conducive to the education of a lady. But Toph’s appetite had barely been whetted. She snuck out at night, went to saloons and taverns, listened to the old folk talk. They never mentioned the fifth ’bending and she didn’t ask for fear of being sent home.

For awhile, Toph forgot about it, until she met the Avatar and his waterbending girlfriend and Sokka—through the earth, she could feel their steps and their heartbeats. Through the earth, she felt their power.

After Old Man Iroh joined them, Toph asked, “What do you know abut the fifth ’bending?”

Old Man turned to face her, Toph felt. He said, “I know it is dangerous and powerful and thankfully, my brother does not have it.”

Aang bounced over and Toph tossed a boulder at him. He caught it and let it drop. “Sifu Iroh,” he asked, “can you teach me another form? I mastered the first.”

“If Lady Bei Fong has no more need of me?” Old Man asked, waiting.

“Oh, go play with Twinkle Toes,” she said. “I can keep myself entertained.”

Old Man bowed and slowly followed after Aang. Toph stood, eyes closed, and let the wind tangle her hair.

Sokka came up behind her. “Wanna go hunting with me?” he invited.

“Sure,” she said, ignoring the way her heart leaped. “Bet I get more than you.”

He chuckled. “Not a fair bet at all, Greatest Earthbender in the World.”

Toph smiled, a small glow of happiness warming her from the inside.

o0o

Zuko left Leeka at a struggling farm somewhere in the middle of the Earth Kingdom. He’d thought to go to Ba Sing Se, live as a refugee, faceless with no past.

But he couldn’t. That would ignore his family’s responsibility, the guilt swimming in his blood.

Twice before he’d become the Blue Spirit, once to save the Avatar and once to survive, to care for Uncle.

And now, he decided to become the Blue Spirit again, to attack the Fire Nation.

After he left Leeka, he began practicing controlling others. It was hard and tiring, but soon he could make up to twenty nonbenders do whatever he wanted for a few minutes at a time. Then he worked on how intricate he could make his orders.

Zuko had not used firebending in a year when he found an old earthbender.

“I know who you are,” the earthbender said. “Prince Zuko, banished and forgotten.”

“Who are you, old man?” he asked, dropping Li’s façade. He’d never tried to control a ’bender. He didn’t know if he could.

“I am Bumi, dethroned king of Omashu.” The old man grinned madly and Zuko lunged to the side just quick enough to avoid a small, jagged mountain that would have torn him apart.

“Where’s the fire?” Bumi cackled. “Where’s your flame, Prince Zuko?”

Anger kindled in him and he unsheathed his swords, roaring, “Stand down, you fool!”

Bumi stopped, hands dropping. His eyes widened as Zuko slowly smiled. “So I can,” he murmured, stepping close. “I’ve heard of you, Bumi, once King of Omashu. You were one of the greatest earthbenders in the world.”

The old man opened his mouth to speak; Zuko said, “Silence.” Bumi’s lips clamped shut. Zuko thought for a moment, then commanded, “Summon a small boulder to your palm.”

Bumi glared, eyes promising a painful retribution, as he held out a hand and pulled a rock from the ground.

Zuko grinned.

o0o

Katara floated, almost asleep. Aang and Toph practiced earthbending, Iroh napped, and Sokka had gone off, somewhere. She was worried about him; he’d been quiet lately, kept to himself, stopped joking. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him smile.

Maybe I’m too wrapped up in this mission, she thought. I should spend more time with Sokka.

“Katara!” Aang yelled.

She sat up, sinking to her waist in the water.

“Katara!” he yelled again. “Soldiers!”

The lake surged, bringing her to the shore. She hurried up the bank, water following her, and over the rise, she saw Toph, Iroh, and Aang battling Fire Nation soldiers, Azula at their head.

Azula was cackling, flinging lightning; Iroh caught it and threw it back. Toph trapped soldiers in rock and Aang tossed them aside, but they kept coming, endless and tireless, and Katara froze them, drowned them, felt guilt and moved on. It was war, and these men killed her mother. So she fought and fought, tears on her face, she dodged lightning and flame—and then the soldiers stopped moving. Azula fell to the ground.

As one, Aang, Toph, and Katara looked to Iroh. He turned to face the woods and said, “Sokka.”

part 2