Chapter Text
* Katara *
The walk back to their rooms was acutely uncomfortable. Aang wore his distress openly. Sokka’s brows were knit in preoccupation. Zuko’s back was perfectly rigid, and Katara thought he was struggling (and failing) to keep his signature scowl from distorting his features.
For her part, Katara’s nerves zinged with anxiety. Her emotions pendulumed back and forth between anger at Tornak’s words and an unwelcome empathy with the pain he’d expressed.
Mai was waiting up for them. She took one look at Zuko’s face and stood from the cushion where she’d been sitting and writing.
“What’s wrong?” she asked sharply. She strode over quickly, reaching out for Zuko.
Before he could say a word or accept her embrace, Zuko caught the pointed toe of his boot in the high pile of a rug. He stumbled sideways into Katara and grabbed for her arms to steady himself. Reflexively, she caught him, muscles straining to brace his taller, heavier frame. Zuko got both feet under him, and Katara loosened her hold. But to her shock, instead of releasing his grip, Zuko clung to her.
Unsure, Katara gently wrapped her arms about his waist and let him hold on. He remained stiff, and it felt like he was holding his breath.
Maybe he’s trying to hold in an outburst?
Tentatively, Katara slid one arm out and stroked down his back from shoulder to waist. At once, Zuko let out a huge, shaking breath and slumped into her. He pressed his face into her collar.
Oh! I guess Zuko just needed a hug. Who knew?
She pulled him tight to her with one hand and continued to soothe her friend. She stroked from the back of his head, curved around his neck and down his back, all of it over the long length of his hair. Zuko shivered and Katara felt his sharp, cold nose press through her own loose hair and against her neck.
She let out a soft laugh. Everyone needed a hug sometimes. If she were honest, she appreciated the hug after that awful mess.
Over the bulk of Zuko’s shoulder, made larger by the leather shoulder guards he wore, Katara saw Mai had a peculiar look on her face. Mai’s expressions were often understated and difficult to read for anyone who didn’t know her well. Katara didn’t know what to make of this one. Mai saw her looking and gave her head a tiny shake as though to dispel whatever thoughts were occupying her mind.
Zuko shifted slightly, raising his head just enough to speak.
“Kiyi?” he asked, still sounding a little muffled.
“Asleep in the next room,” Mai replied.
“We should go to our room. We have a lot to talk about. I don’t want us to disturb her,” Aang said. He rubbed a few gentle circles into Katara’s back, above Zuko’s encircling arms, and kissed her free cheek.
“I’m going to get my things from the other room,” Sokka announced. “I should leave it free for Toph and any of her students.”
“I’ll make us some tea?” Mai offered.
Katara smiled at her, “That’s very kind of you. I think we could all do with it.”
“That bad, huh?” Mai observed dryly.
Zuko answered her, voice gravely with fatigue and unhappiness, “Yeah.”
*
They settled down in the room Aang and Katara had claimed. Katara drew Zuko along, seating him on their bed and draping a blanket over him. Aang came next, followed by Sokka, both of them carrying Sokka’s few belongings. They took up places on the neighboring bed facing Katara and Zuko. At last Mai joined them with the tea things and took a seat on Zuko’s other side.
In low voices in between sips, they told Mai everything that had happened - about the dark spirits, the elders, the Fire Navy ships, and Zuko’s frosty reception from Chief Arnook and his counselors. Katara appreciated the sharp attention Mai paid to the information and again reminded herself that this woman had grown up in the royal court of a despotic leader. She probably knew more about politics and violence in government than any of them except Zuko.
And, Toph.
Katara wished Toph were here, and not only for her political insight. It would be a relief to have another powerful bender here and on their side. Toph was a solid and reliable as the earth she manipulated. Katara missed her steady presence.
She’ll be here soon, Katara thought. We can hold on until then. We’re not exactly helpless.
“That conversation was so… so ugly,” Aang concluded.
“I’ve dealt with a lot of angry people,” Zuko said with a humorless laugh. “As it happens, the Fire Nation isn’t very popular. As Fire Lord, I’m even less well-liked.”
He shook his head and stared into the dregs in his teacup.
“But, I have rarely met with such vitriol,” he swallowed and shook his head. “The look in Tornak’s eyes… it— reminded me of my father.”
Zuko took a deep breath, “Except, I didn’t deserve his hatred. But, Tornak’s…?” He let the question trail off with a wave of one hand.
Aang leaned forward, tipping his head to see more of Zuko’s lowered face.
“You don’t deserve anyone’s hatred,” he said firmly.
Zuko gave them all a sad look, “I’m not so sure about that.”
Katara couldn’t bear it. She slid her hand into Zuko’s and gripped it forcefully to draw his full attention.
“I used to blame you like that. The way Tornak does. You know, I feel pulled this way and that—like the tides—thinking about what he said to you and about you. I know what his pain and fear feel like, because that used to be me. They turn into an anger so ferocious it feels like it’s burning you up inside.”
Zuko’s eyebrow flared, going up and down in a lightning-quick movement. Katara remembered how he had once been driven by anger, too.
“In one way, I’m so upset at Tornak for being trapped in his anger. But, I used to be just like him. I used to blame you, just like him.”
“But, you don’t anymore.” Zuko’s statement held too much of the tone of a question for her liking.
Katara cupped his hand between both of hers, “No. You know I don’t.” She met his golden eyes, “I learned to see you for you. As a person. Not a stand in for everyone from the Fire Nation who had ever hurt me.”
“I hurt you,” Zuko pointed out, face troubled. “Badly.”
Katara huffed a tiny laugh at him, “So have Sokka and Aang and Toph and everyone else I love at one time or another! That happens in all relationships. You apologized. You asked what you could do to make it better. You asked for my forgiveness. It took some time,” she agreed. “But, I did. You’re forgiven. And, you’re my friend.”
Zuko’s face softened in that way it only ever seemed to around his family and their little band. Unless her eyes were deceiving her in the low light, he was blushing.
Boys! Say one nice thing to them and they go as red as the setting sun.
“You’re a good friend,” Aang said staunchly. “To all of us. And, we’re going to stick by you no matter what. Those people today? They don’t know you. The real you. We do.”
“I don’t deserve you,” Zuko said with feeling, looking gratefully each of them in turn.
“Yes, you do,” Mai corrected him easily. “Not to mention, who else will tell you when you have your head stuck up your rear end?”
They all chuckled.
“Uh… you will,” Zuko observed dryly.
Sokka cackled, then reached for the teapot on its warming stand and poured himself a refill. He raised the pot and an eyebrow to see who else wanted a one. They all held out their cups.
Raising his full cup to Mai in a toast, Sokka said, “I always liked you. His Fieriness needs to have people around who will keep him humble.”
Mai snorted delicately. Katara was sure her eyes actually twinkled, just for a moment, in Sokka’s direction.
“It’s easy when you’ve known Zuko since he was little.”
Everyone laughed. Zuko buried his face in his hands, but Katara could feel that he too was laughing from the way his side shook where it was pressed against her.
At last, Zuko reemerged and took a gulp of his tea.
“Actually, Mai, I need to ask you for a favor,” he said seriously.
She frowned at him.
“I need you to take Kiyi and the airship and go home. First thing tomorrow morning.”
“Kiyi isn’t going to like that,” Mai’s frown deepened. “I don’t like it either. I don’t want to leave you if your life is danger.”
Zuko shook his head, “If you stay it will only be easier for people to compromise me. They know they can get to me through Kiyi”—he set his cup down and took Mai’s hand in his—“or you.”
“I’d like to see them try,” she said, lip curling. “Plus, why bother me with me? I’m no one. If you’re worried about people hurting you, why aren’t you worried they’ll get to you through Aang or Katara or Sokka?”
“We’re not Fire Nationals,” Sokka said quietly. “A bad actor can take you and make it seem like it was your fault. You weren’t invited. You just showed up.”
He waved his hand in a gesture of negation to forestall Mai’s counter argument.
“It’s what they could say. And, plenty of people would believe them. Chief Arnook invited the rest of us, and asked us specifically to stay to help.”
“Hmm,” Katara hummed thoughtfully, thinking over the day’s events. She could feel an idea trying to break through the sleepiness that was beginning to engulf her mind. An important idea…
“What is it?” Aang asked. “That’s your clever face.”
“Pffff,” Sokka objected. “She doesn’t have a clever face. A fun-spoiling face, sure. An ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face. A ‘mom’ face. Those are usually the sa—”
Aang clapped a hand over Sokka’s face stifling his words.
“Thank you,” Katara said. Before Aang could uncork Sokka’s mouth, she went on.
“I was just thinking. We were talking about Chief Arnook last night. How much he’s changed. Losing his daughter… It’s made him raw. He’s grieving and angry. Sokka thinks that’s why he let Tornak speak out like that.”
Sokka pushed Aang’s hand gently away, “Chief Arnook is head chieftain. His is the final word. If he’s letting someone like Tornak exert so much influence, it’s either because he agrees with him or Arnook has lost his strength as a leader. Both are bad news.”
“Loss changes people,” Zuko observed. “Losing a child is a pain unlike any other.”
He paused, folded his hands together, and stared down at his fingers.
“My uncle changed after Lu Ten died. At first he lost all heart. It’s why my father was able to take the Fire Lord’s throne and Uncle Iroh let him. But”—he cleared his throat and went on—“Uncle Iroh learned how to carry his son’s loss so it wouldn’t break him. He kept changing and for the better.”
“I don’t think Chief Arnook is going to change that quickly. At least not quickly enough to make Tornak stop,” Katara began. “But, what you say about Iroh is sort of connected. From what you’ve said, you and Iroh changed each other. You each found someone to love and depend on in one another.”
Zuko turned so that he could look her full in the face. His forehead wore its customary lines, but she decided that they meant Zuko was listening closely, not irritated.
“The thing is, Chief Arnook… he seemed almost charmed to see you with Kiyi today. For a moment there, her joy at seeing the city seemed to pull him out of his misery.”
Katara shook her head, still hardly believing what she’d observed, “Looking at the two of you, I swear he almost smiled. I think seeing you interact with her made you seem like a real person, not another nation’s ruler or a stand in for everyone who’s hurt his people.”
Zuko’s face cleared and grew thoughtful. He rubbed his knuckles over his lips as he considered her words.
“I think for a minute, Chief Arnook saw the real you. Just a brother with his little sister,” Katara grinned briefly at Sokka. “Kiyi showed him that—”
“The big, bad Fire Lord is really soft inside and melts like ice cream?” Mai finished her sentence with dry good humor.
Katara giggled, “Yes. Exactly.”
Zuko huffed a laugh, but shook his head.
“I hear what you say, Katara. But, I can’t use Kiyi as some political pawn.”
Before she could reply that this wasn’t what she’d meant, Sokka spoke up.
“A little bit of melted ice cream wouldn’t hurt your image right now,” he pointed out. “But I’m actually more worried about letting any of us get separated from the others. Who’s to say that if Mai and Kiyi leave, they actually arrive safely back in the Fire Nation. It would be easy to follow them. And, we wouldn’t even know.”
“That’s why you pulled the clown act,” Mai said slowly, nodding her understanding.
“It’s not a clown act! I don’t have a clown act,” Sokka protested.
“It was,” Mai insisted. “But, it was smart.”
“So, how are we going to keep Mai and Kiyi with us tomorrow? We’re working on the harbor. They’re supposed to go touring the city,” Aang asked.
Katara’s heart sank and she bit her lip.
I thought the chief was being nice. What if it was a ploy to separate Mai and Kiyi from us? To keep them under control and available to use as leverage if needed? We saw that move in Ba Sing Se. I’d forgotten.
“I’ll talk to Grandfather Pakku first thing,” Sokka reassured them. “He’s still very well connected here. He’ll know what to do.”
Zuko nodded briefly, then heaved a sigh and buried his face back in his hands. Katara rubbed tiny circles into his back and met Aang’s worried eyes over their friend’s bent head. They all sat quietly for a moment, lost in private thoughts.
At last Sokka shifted and began to rummage in his bag for his sleep clothes.
Mai yawned, “I should get to bed.”
She reached for the tea things, but Katara put a gentle hand on her wrist,“I’ve got this. Water bending makes the washing up go a lot faster. Why don’t you take the bathroom first?”
Mai nodded and gave her a tiny smile of thanks.
“We’re not going to let anyone hurt you or Kiyi or Zuko,” Katara said, the words tumbling out urgently.
Mai gave her a steely smile and flicked her wrists. As if by magic, a trio of stiletto knives appeared in each hand.
“No one is going to hurt any of us. If they try, we’ll make them sorry.”
“Diplomacy first, knives second,” Zuko muttered, standing up. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned that before.”
“And, how many times have I saved your skin?” Mai asked, making her knives dance in her fingers before vanishing them beneath her sleeves.
Zuko cupped her elbow and steered her toward the doorway. He held the door hanging open for her to pass, saying “More times than I can count.”
*
Katara was dozing to the sound of Sokka’s light snores and the feel of Aang’s chest expanding and contracting against her own when a brush of air told her their door hanging had moved. She stiffened, every sense on alert.
“It’s just me,” came a whisper.
Zuko.
She sighed and relaxed back into her pillow.
“What is it?” she asked so low as to be almost inaudible.
“It— I—” Zuko crouched down next to her. She could barely make out his outline in the dark. Katara reached out and fumbled at his shoulder until he caught her hand in his. It was icy cold.
But, he’s a fire bender. He’s never cold.
“How are you cold?” she asked.
“It’s cold here,” he breathed. “And, there’s hardly any sun. It makes bending—”
“Ohhh,” she whispered. “Do you need more blankets? I know we have some.”
“I—” Zuko shifted and even though she couldn’t really see him, Katara could sense his discomfort. “I’m afraid I’m going to have nightmares tonight.”
He said the words so quickly and quietly that it took her sleepy brain a moment to parse them.
“I don’t want to frighten Kiyi.”
Next to Katara, Aang rolled over. He reached across her to feel for Zuko in the dark. She felt him tug on Zuko’s sleep shirt.
“Get in,” Aang mumbled. “’S warm in here.”
“Are…Are you sure?” Zuko asked, anxiety overlaying relief in his tone.
Katara inched the blankets down until she could sit up and swing her legs out of the bed.
“Get in the middle,” she directed Zuko.
Somehow he managed to slip past Katara without elbowing her or Aang to settle into the warmest part of the bed. She shivered in the chilly air, then snuggled back down into the blankets behind him.
Zuko lay stiffly on his side as though trying to take up as little room as possible.
Katara propped herself up on an elbow so she could speak close to his ear, “Warmer?”
“Mm hmm,” he confirmed.
Beyond Zuko, Katara could feel Aang give the little twitches that meant he was falling back asleep.
Katara wasn’t sure what to do. Normally, she wrapped herself around Aang’s back, but it seemed a little inappropriate to do that to Zuko without permission.
She sighed.
He shifted slightly.
Hair tickled her nose. Zuko’s hair.
“Sit up for a minute,” she said, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.
“Huh?” Zuko asked, but he complied without waiting for an explanation.
As soon as she was situated behind him, Katara reached out for his shoulders, then glided her hands softly up his neck and the sides of his face to his ears.
Zuko twitched, “What are you doing?”
“Getting your hair out of my face,” she retorted.
She combed her fingers through the strands, following his hairline from forehead over his ears and to the nape of his neck. When she was sure she had it all, she split the length into sections and began to braid. Katara didn’t need to see with her eyes for this task. It was easier anyway since Zuko’s hair was straighter and silkier than her own.
In front of her folded legs, Zuko shuddered and let out a quiet groan. As her hands tugged lightly, he seemed to melt toward her.
She tied off the braid with one of the spare ties she kept in a pocket of her nightgown. Then, Katara nudged Zuko back down. As soon as he settled on his side, Aang rolled over. From Zuko’s sudden, in-drawn breath Katara was sure Aang had snuggled right up against Zuko’s front.
“Uh, Katara?” he asked, sounding a little breathless.
“Don’t bother. You won’t be able to avoid cuddling. Not with Aang in the bed,” Katara let out a breathy laugh then yawned so widely that her jaw popped. She leaned over Zuko’s shoulder so she could speak closer to his ear. “You’re lucky he’s a snuggler now. He used to sprawl everywhere.”
Katara felt more than heard Zuko’s quiet laugh in return.
She settled down, yawning again. Carefully, she tucked Zuko’s braided hair out of her face and curled against his back. Unsure, she slid an arm around his waist.
“Is this okay?” she asked.
Zuko’s only reply was to take her hand in his and squeeze.