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Chapter Text

The sea was calm, and there was no wind. No sound. Nothing, save for the steady hum of them ship’s engine. The banished prince stood at the rail, facing the water that parted for the ship as it moved, closer and closer to the Fire Nation. To his home. Relief, mixed with trepidation, battled in his mind. Had he really accomplished the impossible? Attained what he had hunted for the last two years so tirelessly, and now he could finally return.

No longer would the prince be known as the banished prince, or the shamed prince, or the traitor prince. Now he would be the legendary prince, the Firelord’s son. The prince who captured the Avatar.

~

Katara woke violently, her heart beating wildly, body thrashing in her sleeping bag as the dream left her mind.
After a moment, her heart returned to its normal rhythm, and her breaths came evenly.
It was not the first time she had started awake from her dreams. Her nightmares featured the same reoccurring faces, the faces that haunted her memories day and night. The faces of her brother and parents.
Katara collected her clothes and dressed for the day.

Being the Chief’s daughter meant that Katara had responsibilities to her tribe, and it also meant that she had their respect. Being also a waterbender had its charms, but being the only water bender in the South Pole meant that there was no one to teach her, and help her use this skill, so Katara had to learn on her own.

At sixteen, the young waterbender spent the summer building a wall fifty feet high around her village, and a watchtower, from which she could watch for fire nation ships. Throughout Katara’s childhood, their village was victim to constant raids at the hands of the fire nation.

By the age of eighteen, Katara had proved the strongest fighter the village had. However, since all the men had gone to war against the fire nation, leaving the women and children in the village to defend themselves, this made Katara, and her brother Sokka, very much the only fighters. In the violence of one raid, Sokka was killed by a firebender, and Katara grew cold and distant since that day.

The children of the village were all too young to be at all helpful in a fight when Katara’s father left with the rest of the men to fight against the Fire Nation. Now, they were stronger and helped with building defenses and collecting supplies. As the oldest, besides the mothers and elders, they viewed Katara as a leader, and looked to her for guidance.

Her people both feared and respected her, both for her power, and her tenacity and fierceness in a fight. If only they knew how alone she truly felt.

~

“Prince Zuko, your father requests your presence.”

The Firelord’s son turned slowly, glancing at the attendant out of the corner of his good eye. He nodded at the man, who quickly swept out of the room, closing the door behind him with a small click.

It had been four years since his return to the Fire Nation, and his father had welcomed him back whole-heartedly, or so his sister had claimed. The Avatar had turned out to be a child, a boy of twelve, the last of his people, the airbenders. It took a few weeks to piece together the full story, but Zuko was determined to see the task through. Now, with the Avatar under the custody of the Fire Nation, his power safely contained with him imprisoned under the Fire Sages temple on the Crescent Island.

Zuko wrapped his robe with its sash, and headed out of his chambers. Following his return, Zuko had waited several days before his father had spoken to him. Though he had been perfectly civil, and portrayed pride in Zuko’s capturing the Avatar, Zuko had been unsure, and felt awkward standing before his father, the Firelord. His father, who had burned and banished his only son, and sent him on an impossible quest to regain his tarnished honour. But Zuko had done just so, and returned a hero.
And yet, something nagged at him, a feeling that something was not right in this happy reunion. The feeling never quite subsided over the years.

The Fire Nation’s royal family had been through much in the last few years, the death of Firelord Azulon, the disappearance of Zuko’s mother, and the sudden rise to power of Zuko’s father, Firelord Ozai, over the birthright of his older brother, Iroh.
Zuko’s uncle had lost his only son in the war when Zuko was still young, and at the time, he did not understand what this meant, but now he understood the reasoning behind his father becoming Firelord. His heir lived. Zuko lived.
And now he was the crowned prince of the Fire Nation.

~

Katara was in her watchtower when the ships came. At first, she thought they were Fire Nation, and shouted to the villagers to prepare for a raid, but as they grew closer, she recognised the symbol on the hull of the leading ship. They were Water Tribe.

Excitement flooded through Katara’s body, and she let herself hope, for a moment, that her father had returned from battle, and the war was finally over. This moment passed, and Katara realised that these were not Southern Water Tribe canoes, but huge war ships headed toward their tiny cove at a shocking speed.

Katara squinted and spotted not oars, but people, hanging from the sides of each ship. Waterbending the ship forward.

Their Northern brothers had come to the South.

The Southern Water Tribe was a tiny community, made up of children and women, and a few elders. The Northern Water Tribe was powerful, with a strong chief.

Kanna, Katara’s grandmother, had told her stories as a child, about the mighty Northern Water Tribe, how that one day, they would come and save us from the Fire Nation, and the South would be strong again. If only they had, maybe she would still be alive to see it today.

Katara stood outside the wall, which she had opened wide enough for the armies that had arrived in their cove, but she did not welcome them into her village. Instead she stood with her arms crossed, scowling at them. Immovable.

The lines of soldiers did not speak, or move any closer, until a man dressed in fine robes made of fur stepped off the ship, and walked towards her. The soldiers parted down the middle to let him through.

Katara did not react, not even when she realised the man must be the chief of the Northern Water Tribe. Not even when he stood directly before her, watching her intently.
Finally he spoke.
“I want to talk to the Chief.” His voice was deep and commanding.
Katara fought the urge to smirk, instead lifting her chin, and narrowing her eyes, in an attempt to look just as commanding.
“I am the Chief.” She said, deadpan. This was a small lie, seeing as the Chief was actually her father, and that would make his son the next Chief, but Sokka was not here. And neither was her father. Besides, no one in the village would claim otherwise.
The man did not look shocked, surprised, or even amused. Katara could help but feel a little disappointed. He continued, as if he were prepared for this.
“The Southern Tribe has been too long disconnected from its Northern counterpart. I feel it is time for the Poles to be united once again, as it was a century ago. We would provide ships, warriors, and supplies. The war has kept the tribes apart, and it must return to the way it was, this may be the key to ending this long, long war.”
Katara watched the chief, she hadn’t expected this, and she had to smother the urge to waterbend him straight into the ocean. The Northerner’s had cut off communication and trade with the South soon after the war broke out. Katara’s grandmother had taught her this, the Northerner’s were greedy, but they were powerful, and the Fire Nation had yet to defeat them.
She responded calmly, amazingly keeping the seething anger out of her voice.
“The Southern Water Tribe is small, and we are few, how could we possibly have anything to offer you in return for your allegiance?”
“It matters not the true power your people wield,” the chief said, “only the image of our joined nations, it is a political scheme that will convince the Earth Kingdom of our strength, and convince them to join our allegiance. They will give us the resources to form a front against the Fire Nation.”
From stories, she knew that the Earth Kingdom was a strong and large region, they likely had the means and numbers to come toe-to-toe with the Fire Nation. Katara considered this.
“So, the alliance you want is not with our tribe, but with the Earth Kingdom.” It wasn’t a question, but Katara raised her eyebrows, showing her scepticism. The chief did not appear to be troubled by Katara’s stubbornness. He simply waited, he did not need to explain her position to her, she knew that the Fire Nation would continue to return to her village, and one day there would be nothing left. That the Northern Water Tribe only wanted to unite with the South, after a century of separation, only to secure an alliance with the Earth Kingdom, was inconsequential. The Southern Water tribe needed the help that the North could offer. No matter the cost to her pride, her people needed protection.
Katara did not trust the chief, but her mistrust was endurable in comparison to her fear of the Fire Nation. The chief’s explanation made sense, it was a believable notion. However, one thing concerned her still.
“You have been planning this alliance with the Earth Kingdom for some time,” she guessed, “and they will not accept your alliance unless the Northern and Southern Water Tribes are joined.” She spread her hands in front of her. “If you did not need us, you would not be here.” She dropped her hands by her side, then crossed them again. “How would you plan to show the Earth Kingdom that our Tribes are joined once again?” She asked, genuinely curious now.
“That is simple,” the chief replied, “we require a show of good faith, that the South is completely united to the North. This would require the chief -” he gestured respectfully to Katara, “to return to the Northern Kingdom to complete a New United Water Kingdom Concord.

“Kingdom?” Katara was confused now.
The Chief chuckled softly, and looked down. “Yes, things have changed in the North, and we want them to change here, surely you don’t want your village to continue to be attacked constantly?” He tilted his head toward the small arrangement of huts.
This was a step too far. Katara’s expression hardened, and the chief seemed to regret speaking after seeing her reaction.
Katara felt the insult of the comment deeply. Perhaps the South was small and weak in comparison to their powerful sister Tribe– Kingdom – but that was the Northerners’ doing.
However, she could see no better way to protect her tribe, not only were her people vulnerable to practically every attack that may come their way, but they had all but lost their culture. The only reason Katara knew this was because her grandmother had insisted on teaching her all that she knew about the ways of the Water Tribe from when she was young. All that she had left of her grandmother now was an engagement necklace she had been given many years before, and given to her daughter, Katara’s mother, before she gave it to Katara.
Now it fell to Katara alone to decide on the fate of her people, of which they were either too young, or too scared to help.

Katara looked down, gathering the strength to speak calmly once again. Seeing the logic in this she decided that this was the best way to save her people. Though she was still suspicious of the Northern chief, she accepted, and they agreed to leave at first light.

~

Zuko met his father in the war room. On the table was a map of the 4 nations, the North Pole at one end of the table, the South stretched to the other. The Firelord stood at the North end, facing the flames that were constantly flickering in the surrounding oil bowls. When Zuko entered the war room, the flames seemed to flicker all at once in his direction. Zuko pretended not to notice.

“Father.” He greeted the Firelord with a bow befitting the crowned prince. Ozai turned and smiled at his son. To any outsider, this would have seemed normal, for a father to smile at his son, but Zuko was instantly put off. For his father, a simple smile was a bribe, a gift, and Zuko knew that this did not come freely, and that something would be expected of him.

Keeping his disquiet hidden in a blank expression, the Prince moved to the South end of the map, and looked at the arrangement. “You have moved forces in the Earth Kingdom to the North.” He was careful to remain casual, but Zuko was surprised. The Fire Nation had only just defeated the capital city of Ba Sing Sei, and the outlying city of Omashu. It was still soon to be moving so many soldiers out, they would risk the Earth Kingdom re-taking Ba Sing Sei. Zuko could not see any reason that the Northern Water Tribe would suddenly become more important than their current hold on the Earth Kingdom.
“You are wondering why I would risk Ba Sing Sei.” This was not a question either, and Zuko knew that the Firelord was irritated that he would question him. “This is not what you should concern yourself with.” The Firelord picked up a model ship from the North and studied it.

“What has changed in the North?” Zuko knew his father did not like questions, but he seemed to be in a good mood, so he decided there was little risk of angering him, at least for the moment. Ozai grinned. He placed the ship back where it was exactly, each ship lined up symmetrically, all facing the Northern Water Kingdom.

“A group of Fire Nation agents infiltrated the North some months ago, and they have been leaking information of the Northerners’ schemes.” Zuko nodded, he knew of this, the key to taking down the Water Tribe was in the North, they had already conquered the South, all that remained was a small village, their benders gone. The Firelord continued.
“A few months ago, we received a message that the king is no longer in the North. He has taken a good deal of his ships, and a full company of water benders with him, on a diplomatic mission to the South.” Ozai paced, and Zuko noted his comfortable stance, head tilted back in thought. “Apparently, they are trying to unify the Water Tribes in a show of strength.” He laughed at the last part.

Zuko mulled this over, it was the perfect opportunity to ambush the King’s ship. But there was something else, something about his father’s expression that had him wary. Instead of voicing his concern, Zuko nodded in agreement. Better to wait for his father to decide whether to continue, rather than to press his luck. He played along, hoping for more information. “It is a fine plan. When will the attack be launched?”
“Tomorrow morning.” The Firelord said slowly. “Our ships will set sail towards the North Pole, they should be there within a month.”
Zuko must have looked taken aback, because Ozai chuckled.
“You were expecting me to order an attack on the king’s ships.” Zuko could see that the Firelord took pleasure in his confusion. “Commander Zhou has been stationed close to the North Pole the past few weeks, he has a plan that will leave North completely defenceless.”

~

What had once been the Northern Water Tribe had apparently become the Northern Water Kingdom, all in the attempt to forge an alliance with the Earth Kingdom, apparently. They had adopted their political constitution, and their chief became king.

The king had explained that Katara would become a princess of the Southern Water Kingdom. Princess Katara looked onto her vast domain of fishing wires, canoes and huts, and released and exasperated sigh. The sun had finally begun to rise, and it painted the huts in a dusty-golden glow.

It was time.

She had no family left to speak of, save for her father, who Katara hoped was still fighting, but she hadn’t seen him since he left her and her brother to fend for themselves several years ago. When she lost her brother too, Katara gave up hope for her family to be reunited, and placed all her pain and anger on her father, at the time blaming his leaving for her grief. Later she realised that a better target for her malice was anything Fire Nation, and that hate made her the leader she was.

Making her way to the king’s ship, Katara took one last look at her village. It made her sad to leave the place that was her home for the past 18 years, but she had no family or friends. She did however have a responsibility to her people, and this deal with the North was the only way to help them. A group of water benders remained behind with a small portion of the king’s army to protect the South. Katara glanced to her roughly-bended wall that surrounded the village as the Northern benders added more ice and built it higher and thicker.

Katara felt a pang of sadness. The war had already taken so much from her, and now she would become part of it. So far, the only role she had held was fighting raiders that attack her village, and this was necessary to protect. This union with the Northern Water Kingdom would throw her into the midst of the conflict, and, although she wished she wasn’t, she was afraid.

Saying a silent goodbye and praying for their safety, she stepped onto the deck, and immediately was lead to her cabin, where she would spend the next few months on their journey to the North Pole.

~

The sun had begun to rise in the North, and Princess Yue admired the view, from her bed chamber, as she did every morning. But this time she frowned, on the horizon there was a dark shadow, small in the distance. Yue felt and unexplainable dread growing in her stomach. She turned, hastily making her way out, and called to one of her servants.
“I need to speak with Master Paku.” She said. The servant nodded and hurried away.

Within minutes the water bending master appeared around the corner. “Princess.” He bowed his head in respect, then raised his head and frowned. “What troubles you?”
Yue gestured to her room. “I think there are ships coming towards us.” She walked back into her chambers, Paku following her, and pointed out of her window to the horizon.

Paku squinted into the bright light of the sunrise, and frowned again. “This could not be your father, Princess, he is still months away, in the South.” He looked back at her, concern showing his age.
Yue had known Master Paku since she was little. She was not a water bender, and even though female waterbenders did not fight – they were healers – the Princess had the opportunity to train as a warrior. Paku had been like a father to her, the king was often otherwise engaged, and had little time for her of late. Instead, Yue would meet with Master Paku, and from childhood, he had taught her how to fight. Now, Yue was twenty, and capable of defending herself against any weapon.

Now, her friend looked every year of his age, the wrinkles in this face told her how grim the most likely of explanations was.
“The Fire Nation is here.” Yue was shocked.
Paku nodded.
“My father is in the South.” The realisation struck her, the king had taken a good number of the Kingdom’s best warriors, and they would be weaker against an attack from a fleet of Fire Nation Ships.
Paku took her hand, and Yue looked up at him.
“Stay here Princess, I will alert the city, the inner wall will protect the commoners, and you must also remain here.”
“No, I want to help.” She did not want to stay cooped up inside the palace, while her father’s men gave their lives for her.
“Please Yue, the kingdom needs its princess now. While your father is gone, you are the ruler of the North.” Paku squeezed her hand softly, and with one final look, he disappeared out of the door.

Yue turned back to the window, and watched in horror, as the Fire Nation descended onto the North.

The sun was barely in the sky when the first Fire Nation ship drew into the bay, and unleashed a torrent of flaming boulders onto the outer wall of the Northern Water Kingdom.

General Zhou called the next volley of cannon balls to be loaded, and within seconds the wall was reduced to blackened snow. Fire Nation soldiers rushed into the outer city, and burned houses to the ground. There were no people in the outer rim, they took refuge in the capital, and for now, were safe from Zhou’s forces.
The Fire Nation soldiers hesitated in their destruction when the ice beneath them began to tremble, and suddenly ice stalagmites shot up around a large group of them.

Master Paku and his students herded the soldiers into the market square, and bended the ice into a huge dome that trapped them inside. Then, they melted the ice beneath the soldiers’ feet, and released them into the sea.
Water Kingdom soldiers charged the remaining Fire Nation invaders.

Yue watched helplessly from a watchtower in the capital. There were only a few Fire Nation ships, and even with so many of her father’s warrior in the South, they equalled the Fire Nation invaders in numbers, and they were in their own territory, they had the upper hand.

General Zhou stood, watching, from the main viewing platform in the lead ship. The sun was now high in the sky, and his fire bending would be at full strength. There was no better time to commence his plan to bring the Water Kingdom down.
“General Zhou, your boat is ready, sir.”
Zhou nodded to the helmsman, and strode onto the deck. There, he was stopped by the only man aboard with the power to challenge him.
“General Iroh.” Zhou bowed in respect, but the malice in his eyes was anything but respectful.
“General Zhou, I cannot endorse your plan, it is unnatural.” Iroh was the brother to the Firelord, and had accompanied the General on this mission to the North, Zhou had suspected that it was to keep an eye on him.
“The Firelord is aware of my plan, General. He gave me full freedom to continue with it, which is exactly what I intend to do.” Zhou bowed again, and pushed past Iroh to his boat.
Once he was lowered into the water, he pushed off towards the shore.

One trick to fire bending is that if you burn anything hot enough, it will melt. Or burn, either way, what every is in your way can be destroyed. Zhou melted through the thick wall of the outer city, and climbed inside. Striding through the deserted city, he made his way to the outer-most side of the inner wall.

Several years before, General Zhou had discovered an ancient library in an Earth Kingdom desert, it contained the secrets of the ancient Water Tribe, and the history of water bending. Water benders draw on the moon for power, and the sea for strength. Zhou had uncovered the names of the spirits of the Moon and Sea, and had devised a plan to kill the Moon spirit, and drain all water benders of their power for good. He would have executed his plan sooner, but the Firelord commanded he wait until the Fire Nation agents within the city gathered more intelligence. The years of planning let him perfect his plan, but also began to cool his rage. He no longer felt the same, almost manic drive he had when he first discovered the Moon and Sea spirits.

The spirits lived in mortal form, within the inner city, protected by the royal family. But Zhou had also found the location of the spirits’ haven in the library. And now he stood before the entrance, and elaborate lock made of ice and stone blocking his path.
He tilted his head to the sky, and let the sunlight warm his face. Drawing strength from the sun, General Zhou growled, producing a massive fire ball, and drove it straight at the entrance. With a huge explosion, the lock was demolished, broken into pieces that scattered across the ground around it. Inside, Zhou could see that it was a cave, beneath the palace. The air was warm, and the centre of the cave there was a small oasis, with plants and green, and a small pool, where two large koi swam, encircling each other. Zhou walked toward the pool and stared down at the koi.

“STOP!”

Zhou jerked his head around at the voice coming from behind him.
Silhouetted in the light from outside, the Princess stood a few feet behind him, small puffs of her breath were just visible.

Zhou turned to face her fully. “I am General Zhou, and the Northern Water Kingdom is now under the rule of the Fire Nation.” He turned back to the koi swimming in the pool below. Drawing a dagger from his belt, Zhou knelt and pointed it at one of the koi with a white circle, the Moon spirit.
“NO! Please… Don’t do this!”
Zhou raised his dagger over the water.

“Zhou.”
This familiar voice made him pause.
“You made a mistake, following me, old man.” Zhou looked over his shoulder to see the General standing behind the Princess.
“Old I may be, but I am not a fool. I know these spirits are gentle and peaceful, but if you do this, there is no telling what will happen. Whatever you unleash, your fate will be sealed.”
Zhou hesitated. Were he the same man he was four years ago, he would have ignored the warning, but the years had wizened him.
“I know you are not a fool either Zhou, you became a General because of your strategy, your planning, not just your skills in battle. Think this one through, you will have much more power over the people of the Water Kingdom if you possessed the Moon and Sea spirits. If you kill them now, you will have nothing, except for an angry people, and they will not need bending to bring you down.”
Zhou lowered his dagger, and after a moment returned it to his belt. Standing, he walked directly to the Princess.
“Princess Yue.” The Princess looked past Zhou, and he could see tears forming in her eyes. “You will accompany me back to the Fire Nation.”

Zhou glanced back at Iroh, and nodded.

As the sun began to lower in the sky, Zhou halted the siege on the city, and ordered his troops back onto their ships. The koi were carried aboard in a glass case, continuing to circle each other, and Princess Yue followed, flanked by several Fire Nation guards. If she wanted to, she could have fought her way out, but if she did, Zhou would undoubtedly kill every man woman and child in the city. So, the Princess boarded the enemy’s ship, head held high.

~

The Prince descended the winding staircase. Beside him, rivers of lava cascaded slowly in deeply carved trenches, which encircled the path at the bottom of the stairs. Highly trained fire benders could control their body temperatures through their breath, and the Prince was unbothered by the intense heat. Following the path, he was lead deeper and deeper into the caverns, and at a fork Zuko took the right tunnel.

The dungeon had only one prisoner, and yet Zuko felt as if there were thousands of eyes watching him as he descended the last of the stairs. He kept perfect control over his stride, never slowing in hesitation, or letting his face reveal his unease. Although, Zuko knew that he would be able to sense it regardless.

No soldiers guarded this cell, it was made entirely of platinum, it could not be escaped by heating the walls. There was no way the prisoner would be able to escape. Despite being a large cell, its closed design made it seem a tiny cage. Zuko approached the thick bars that were the only gaps in the cell that let in what little light was in the room. He peered through the bars, careful to keep his composure. An adolescent boy’s voice called softly from the shadows, his tone playful.
“I suppose I should congratulate you.”
Zuko glanced around the shadows to the left of where he was looking, following the voice. Assuming the congratulations was for his coronation, he let out a small, amused breath. “Thank you. Although, it is several months late.”
The shadows stirred, and a quiet laugh escaped the cell. Zuko begun to feel even more unsettled. Did he know something that Zuko did not?
“I thought you might be hungry, I doubt the Fire Sages keep you fed properly down here.” Zuko pulled a small box from the folds of his robe, and held it through the bars in offering.
“You’d be surprised,” the voice said softly, “the sages were once loyal to the Avatar you see, and they recognise its-” he paused, and chuckled. “My importance.”
“I hear that the last few days have been eventful for you,” Zuko kept his attention on the corner of the cell. Now that his eyes, had adjusted to the low light, Zuko could just make out a hunched shadow.
There was no answer from the cell, but Zuko felt something in the air shift, and he was struck with panic. Although there was no earth or water close by, they could not remove the air for the cell. Zuko fought to keep his pace, not letting his fear show.
Now, a low chuckle echoed throughout the chamber, and Zuko froze. Trying not to move too quickly, he turned back toward the cell. The hunched figure was no longer in the corner, and Zuko’s eyes searched the cell.

Suddenly a hand shot out at Zuko, grabbing his lapel, and pulled him to the bars. The force of the swift movement knocked the box out of Zuko’s hand, and it fell onto the ground, rice and soup spilling at the base of the cage. Long, dark hair hung limp around his gaunt face. Tattered brown rags clung to his clearly visible bones. Despite the weak and sickly appearance, the Avatar was a terrifying sight. Power emanated from this child’s form, and the Prince stared in awe at the tattoos that ran across his body, glowing through the thin fabric of his rags. His voice was ethereal when he spoke, he was in the Avatar state. Zuko’s blood ran cold.
“I can feel your heart beat,” an array of voices chorused, “your fear is so potent…” He narrowed his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows. “The Fire Nation has caused the balance of the world to be overturned. You and your people will pay.” In his Avatar state, the voices of his past lives echoed against his own.
In the months spent on their way to the Fire Nation, he had gotten to know the Avatar, but now Zuko could see his years in prisoned under the Fire Nation’s palace had changed him. Zuko had been angry and desperate to return home to his family, and only later considered things from the Avatar’s perspective. He was the last airbender, he no longer had any family, and in his grief, Zuko suspected he had let himself be taken to the Fire Nation.
“Aang.”
Hearing his name for the first time in years, the Avatar hesitated. Zuko wrapped his own hand slowly around the Avatar’s wrist, and looked at him calmly. Slowly, the twisted smile on his face receded, and the light from the Avatar state left his eyes. He sometimes slipped into such states, it was the tendency of an unbalanced mind.
It was not an exaggeration to say that Zuko had come to regret his actions against the Avatar, though they were enemies, and the key to his return at the time, Zuko had begun to feel crushed under the weight of his guilt over the years. But the burden was his to bear, and he visited occasionally to keep him company, and to appeal to his guilty conscience.

Aang released Zuko, and turned away, ashamed. Guilt filled Zuko’s mind at the sight. Torment that he had caused by bringing him here, and by doing so, fracturing his mind.
The Avatar hung his head, shoulders slumped from the exertion. He glanced up through the strands of wild hair. The boy was bald when they met, his airbending tattoos ran from his forehead and down his back. Now, only the point of the arrow was visible beneath his hairline. Zuko stood, taller than Aang, though he felt small standing before him. They looked at each other for a moment, and Zuko was lost for words. His normal control had been broken, and now he was not sure how to continue the facade. Sensing his hesitation, the Avatar smirked.
“Well, I think it’s time we stop lying to each other anyway…” He turned, ignoring the dropped food near his feet, and faced the wall, sitting with his back to Zuko. He hugged his knees. Zuko shook his head, and squeezed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. What he planned to do next could ruin everything.
“I’m here to free you.” Zuko squeezed his eyes shut and looked down, his expression would betray him, and the shame of betraying his Nation would be the end of his welcome home. But the feeling of regret had become overwhelming, and seeing Aang in such a state at his fault… it was unbearable.
When he opened his eyes the Avatar was staring at him, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth, and his voice was so quiet Zuko barely heard it.
“Where would I go?” The question hung in the air, and Zuko could not look away.
“I don’t know.” Zuko said truthfully. “But anywhere would be better than here.”
Aang continued to stare at Zuko, and this time the Prince did look away. Before he could hesitate, and change his mind again, he pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket, and slid a thin metal key into the lock on the door of the cell.

Almost as soon as the door was unlocked, a powerful gust of wind pushed Zuko back, and suddenly his back was against the stone wall behind him. Zuko shut his eyes to keep the dust out. When the wind stopped and he opened his eyes, the door was open, and the Avatar was gone.
“What have I done?” Zuko whispered to the empty cavern.

~

The next few weeks at sea, Katara practiced her water bending. There were no other water benders in the South Pole, and so she taught herself to control the water around her. In the last year, she had completed the fifty-foot ice wall surrounding her village, and she had occasionally, during one of the raids from the Fire Nation, Katara had become so emotional, she had caused giant waves to push the ships away.

In the early morning sun, Katara practiced breaking apart passing ice bergs on either side of the ship. When she couldn't crush one from the distance, she called a powerful wave to topple it. It didn’t move.

Grunting in frustration, Katara stepped closer to the edge of the deck and yelled as she bended the ice, finally breaking it in half. She stood there, breathing ragged, and sweat collecting under her hair.

“You are a strong bender.” The voice made Katara jump, and she turned to see one of the guards approaching her. “But your technique leaves something to be desired.”
Katara frowned and crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”
The guard smiled and lowered his head in apology. “I meant no disrespect, it is quite impressive that you have so much bending ability, with no one to teach you.”
Katara melted a little, she was caught off-guard by the flattery, and she uncrossed her arms.
“There are no other water benders in the South.” She said. “They were all taken away during the raids.”
The guard nodded in understanding. Straightening, he smiled friendlily “You are betrothed.” He said it as a question, gesturing to her neck.
Katara realised that she had reached for her grandmother’s necklace, as she sometimes did when she thought about her family. She smiled sadly, shaking her head. “No, this was my mother’s… My grandmother’s really.” She dropped her hand to her side. “It’s all I have left of them now.” She turned and walked toward the bow of the ship.
“Wait, if you want someone to teach you some real water bending techniques… It may be a little easier to break ice bergs apart with a proper stance.” The guard smiled on one side. Before turning on his heel, and heading back inside. Before he started down the steps, he looked back at her over his shoulder. “My name is Arrluk, by the way.”

Over the next few weeks, Katara trained on the deck in the morning sun, until the guards came for their shifts, and Arrluk would sit nearby and give her advice on her stances, or techniques. Sometimes he would demonstrate a new technique, and with time, Katara improved considerably, and her hostility she usually showed towards the Northerners faded a little, especially around Arrluk. It was nice to have a friend for once.

One morning, while Katara was working on keeping a small ball of water from falling onto the deck, the king appeared at the stairs, and Arrluk quickly got to his feet. The king ignored him, walking straight to where Katara was standing, a crumpled parchment in his hand. “The Fire Nation has taken the North, and have kidnapped my daughter.”
The water Katara was bending quickly froze, and the ball of ice fell with a thump on the deck. “What? But how could they attack the North? I thought, maybe, they might try to attack your ships here, but…”
The king nodded. “I thought so too, that’s why I organized so many ships on this mission, but even if they attacked the Northern Water Kingdom now, the inner wall is impenetrable. It is impossible...” He glanced at the message in his hand.

Katara was shocked. “What will you do? Do we continue to the Northern Water Kingdom, or to the Fire Nation, to stage a rescue?” Surely the king would want to save his daughter.
The king looked conflicted, and Katara watched as he visibly relaxed his shoulders, but his face remained pained. “We must continue North. We will regroup, and then we’ll face the Fire Nation, and rescue my daughter.”
Katara nodded, and bowed to the king, who promptly nodded in response before turning away and striking below deck.

That night, Katara lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. If the Fire Nation had taken the Princess, she was alive. They must need her for something, though Katara did not know why. She imagined the Northern Water Tribe to be a great stronghold, something untouchable to the Fire Nation. Now she knew there was no safety from this war. Her role in this fight was unavoidable, and now she had to prepare to join in taking the battle to the Fire Nation, rather than always defending against their attacks. She was no longer a victim, but a warrior.

This thought reassured her, and she began to drift off. A quiet thump jolted her awake, and she sat up quickly and looked around her cabin. The lamp cast little light in the darkness, the oil was running low, and Katara cursed under her breath. Suddenly a hand shot out and covered her mouth, another roped around her waist. Katara screamed, but it was muffled, and she doubted anyone would hear her. She kicked out, and there was a grunt behind her. The hands holding her loosened. Katara wriggled out of the assailant’s grip, and rolled onto the floor.

When she looked up, she saw a dark figure couched in the shadows, and she opened her mouth to cry out. Before she could make a sound, Katara was shoved from behind, and she sprawled on the floor. A foot came down on her back, and the breath was knocked out of her. Gasping, Katara twisted, and grabbed the foot that pinned her down. The second attacker fell with a grunt, and Katara scrambled to her feet, sprinting for the door.
She made it, and turned the handle, only to be pushed back by another attacker outside. She fell back and was caught by both arms, the first two attackers holding her still as the third entered the cabin.

Katara struggled with her accosters, but they pulled her arms tight behind her and she winced. Again, she opened her mouth to cry out, but the third mysterious attacker knocked her on the side of the head, and everything went dark.

The intruders made their way quietly to the back of the ship, where their small boat hung from the railing. Had Katara been aware of what was happening, she would have been overjoyed to see Arrluk coming to her rescue. But her kidnappers quickly struck him on the head, silencing him and rendering him unconscious. As two of the attackers lowered the boat and loaded a tied up Katara into it, the third attacker hoisted Arrluk’s limp form and tossed him overboard.

~

Katara woke up in a cell, and for a moment she panicked. Then she remembered what had happened when she was attacked, and she looked around desperately.
From what she could tell, she was on a ship, the constant swaying and the sound of the waves against the hull was unmistakable.
She spotted a door across from where she sat behind bars. Standing, she felt a surge of dizziness, and put a hand against the bars to steady herself. Feeling her head, she discovered a large bump where her kidnappers had struck her.
That’s what she was, kidnapped. Panic flooded through her once again, and Katara covered her mouth with her hand, and tried to steady her breathing.

A noise from the corner of the room made her flinch. A guard in Fire Nation uniform stood from where he had been sitting in the shadows, watching her.
“For the Princess of the Southern Water Tribe, you think she’d be harder to capture.” The smirk on his face made Katara feel sick to her stomach. He strode towards her cell, and Katara backed away, not bothering to hide her fear. The guard lunged towards her, and for a moment Katara forgot that there were bars between him and her, and she jumped back with a small yelp. The guard chuckled and sauntered away, towards the door.

After he closed it behind him, Katara let out the breath she had been holding, and sat back down on the rags she had woken up on. Shuffling herself into a corner, she hugged her knees, and closed her eyes, praying this was all just a dream, and that she would wake up back home in the South Pole.

It was several hours before someone else came to see Katara, and when they did she wished they hadn’t. The guard from before walked in purposefully and stood beside the door, smirking at her. Another Fire Nation soldier came in after him, and walked to stand in front of her cell. He did not speak immediately, and Katara stood to meet his eye, she tried to show that she was not afraid, though even the guard in the corner knew she was.
“Who are you?” She asked, trying to keep her voice from wavering.
The man raised an eyebrow, and cocked his head to the side. “I would have thought that was obvious, we are the Fire Nation, and you,” He gestured to her, “are the Princess” he said it as if she were a bug he would like to crush, “of the Southern Water Kingdom.” He lowered his hand. “We are escorting you to the Fire Nation.”

Katara stood stone-still, and the man continued speaking, but she did not pay much attention. Her heart was beating so fast she could hear her blood rushing in her ears.

After a few minutes, the man and the guard in the corner left, and Katara was left to her own thoughts.

Fire Nation ships were powered by coal, and travelled much faster than the Water Kingdom ships, which were driven by bending power. After a few days, Katara was permitted to leave her cell, so long as her hands were bound and she was accompanied by a guard. The guard that she had met when she first woke up on the ship never accompanied her, but was usually there to watch her when she was in her cell. After a few weeks, they arrived in the Fire Nation, and Katara was lead off the ship in chains.

They had come into the cove in the Fire Nation capital, and they were close to the palace. Katara had never travelled further than the South Pole before, and being surrounded by knew sounds and scents was overwhelming. The heat was also strange, though she had time to adjust to the temperature of Fire Nation territory on the long journey.

Katara was taken directly to the palace in a carriage, two guards on either side of her, preventing her escape. When they arrived at the Fire Nation palace, Katara was lead to a beautiful room, with lush carpets and expensive furniture. Confused, she stood still as her shackles were removed, and the guards exited the room, locking the doors behind them.

For a moment Katara stood in the centre of the room, still dumbstruck at this strange turn of events. Then suddenly the doors opened again and a group of female servants flocked in, carrying boxes. For the next hour, Katara was subject to cleaning, grooming, and dressed up in fine robes. In all that time, not a single one of the servants spoke to her, to explain what was happening or answer her questions. Once she was clean and dressed like a Princess, the servants left, and Katara was once again left alone.

The room had no windows, and there was no other clue to why she was there, in that nice room, and all clean and dressed up. Katara looked around, and spotted a painting on the bed-side of the room, she approached it, and saw that it was a beautiful woman. She too was dressed in Fire Nation colours, and had colourful flowers in her hair, but there was something very sad about her elegant face.

The doors opened again, and Katara whirled to face whoever it was, hoping that she would finally get some answers. She was disappointed, two of the servants from before returned and stood before her, both of them bowed. Neither of them met her eyes. “The Firelord requests your presence.” One of them said in a soft voice.
Somehow Katara felt that request was not exactly a suggestion.

The servants lead Katara out of the room. The halls of the Fire Nation palace were vast and full of extravagant artworks. It was such a change from the infinite monochrome of the South Pole. It was as if Katara had lived her life in black and white, and was suddenly confronted with an assault of colours and smells that violated her senses. She was lucky to have the two servants guiding her.

They stopped in front of a huge set of doors with elaborate metal handles in the shape of two dragons, curled in circles on either door. The servants left her side, and Katara spun around as they stranded her at the entrance. The doors opened and Katara quickly faced them again, her heart racing in alarm. Once the doors were fully opened, Katara could see the room inside. Rather than the bright, luxurious layout of the halls and room she was brought to, this room was dark, and on the far end of it, amber flames danced from one side of the room to the other in a straight line. Behind the flames was a figure, perched on what looked like a throne. Katara stepped inside the room, and the doors swung shut behind her.

The figure behind the flames did not speak, and Katara took this as a signal to approach. She moved closer, and as she did, she noticed more people in the room. On the left, on her side of the flames, was a woman, close to her age, with a menacing smile. When Katara drew closer, the woman’s smile grew and her expression made Katara shiver. On her right was a young man, about the same age, and similar in looks, obviously brother and sister. What made her look twice was the angry scar on the young man’s face, covering his left eye. He did not smile like his sister, but watched her too, and when he noticed her double take, he scowled, and Katara blushed, embarrassed.

When she stood between the two of them, facing the flames, and she found herself fidgeting with the fabric of her sash. She expected someone to speak, and when no one did she opened her mouth to ask why she was here, but was silenced by the doors opening again, and another woman entered. She was dressed in similar robes to the ones Katara was wearing, but her demeanour was entirely different. She strode in quickly, her face calm and her steps confident, she could not help but stare in awe.

The woman, a few years older than Katara, came to a stop beside her, and they briefly shared a glance. Katara immediately saw that the woman was Water Tribe. Her darker skin, compared to the fair skin of those in the Fire Nation that she had noted in her weeks on board the Fire Nation ships. She also saw that the people of Fire Nation generally had warmer-coloured eyes, a darker brown for many of the soldiers she had seen, and the more striking, gold eyes she suspected belonged to firebenders. Katara noticed that this woman’ eyes were icy-blue, and immediately knew she must be Princess Yue from the North. The North and the South together for the first time, Katara wished it were under better circumstances.

“Welcome to the Fire Nation, Princesses.” A voice broke the tense silence. Both girls looked at the figure behind the flames.
The Princess of the Northern Water Kingdom stepped forward slightly, but did not bow or even nod in response. Instead she tilted her chin higher, stance defiant. Katara was instantly impressed by the Princess, her bravery made Katara ashamed to be so afraid.
“Firelord Ozai,” Yue began, her tone anything but polite, “forgive me if I fail to feel so welcome.” She violently pulled her long sleeves back to reveal crimson sores on her wrists, before dropping her sleeves again.
Katara’s hand went to her own wrist, where she knew she had the same markings from the weeks she spent in chains.

The Firelord did not respond straight away, but it seemed as though the flames before them grew a little taller, and Katara became uncomfortably warm in the many layers of fabrics. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the man with the scar shift and glance away for a moment. Katara silently begged the Princess to be cautious in her next words. Thankfully, the Princess noticed the change of atmosphere in the room, and lowered her head slightly, to show that she was now calm.

The Firelord stood, and as he stepped forward, the flames parting around him, and in a few steps, he was standing before them both. The Princess stepped back slightly to be beside Katara once more, and the Firelord eyed her in amusement. “Your reputation recedes you Princess Yue, but you’ll find that you have little power here, a fish out of water.” He grinned.

Katara felt sick, this was the man who was responsible for her people’s suffering, for the death of her mother, her brother, and possibly her father, for all she knew. She hated him. She was also terrified of the Firelord. And right now, she felt her hands begin to shake, and was suddenly grateful for the long sleeves that covered them. The Firelord then moved his gaze to her, and she put every bit of strength she had to resist the urge to avoid his heated gaze.

“So, this is the Princess of the Southern Water Kingdom.” Katara did not respond, imitating the scowl she received from the man on her right just a few moments ago. The Firelord chuckled and took her silence for confirmation. “What is your name, child?” Katara tried to use the same tone and brave stance of the Northern Princesses before repeating.
“My name is Katara.” Her voice was clearer, and Katara was glad that her it did not tremble like her hands, which she held, clenched, by her sides. She intentionally did not use his title to address him, which was the correct response. She was not concerned with being polite.
The Firelord straightened, seemingly unaffected, and turned back to the flames. “It is quite a situation we have here today, three leading figures on the world, the powers of the Fire Nation and Water Kingdoms.” At this he turned to face them again. “It is my wish that we end this fighting, and unify our lands.”
Katara was completely bewildered, the Fire Nation started the 100-year war, and Katara and Yue had both been brought here in chains. She simply could not believe the Firelord wanted peace. And what did he mean, ‘unify our lands’?
“I am aware that the Water Kingdoms were hoping to be united,” he glanced at Katara, and smirked, “though I was unaware that the South was even a Kingdom, from what I heard, they were nothing more than an insignificant fishing village on the ice.”

Katara was instantly filled with rage, the Fire Nation was responsible for the state of the Southern Water Tribe. Endless raids made sure they were constantly afraid, and under the thumb of the Fire Nation. Katara felt the rage surge up in her, and it temporarily blocked out her fear. The Firelord’s eyes widened at Katara’s seething expression, but then he smiled with satisfaction, and Katara realised that he was baiting her. She looked away, smothering her anger. For now.

“No matter,” the Firelord continued, “even a tribe of savages has a Chief, and so long as the leaders of both Water Tribes are in agreement, then we have business to discuss.” He faced them both again completely.

Katara found herself glancing at the brother and sister. Similar in looks to the Firelord, Katara guessed they were his children, Prince and Princess of the Fire Nation. The woman was beautiful, but her prettiness was completely overshadowed by the cruelty in her expression, and with her hair pulled back in a severe knot that the top of her head, she looked ready for battle. The brother looked almost as intense, but there was an air of seriousness about him, he did not show his father’s gleeful cruelty, which his sister seemed to share. With his lined face, he looked years older than his sister.

“I believe the strongest unions between two lands are those that also exist between two people.” The Firelord said, his face suddenly serious. This made Katara look up again quickly. This was all sounding very familiar, Yue’s father, the king of the Northern Water Tribe spoke of a union between the joined Water Kingdom and the Earth Kingdom. He had planned for his daughter to marry the Earth King, he had explained this to her when they set off to the North Pole. Now, the Firelord was suggesting the same thing. Katara looked at Yue, and saw that the Princess had paled with the same realisation. She swallowed, and straightened her shoulders once more, and Katara was struck again by how regal she looked. Yue’s ability to mask her fear impressed Katara, and she realised how weak she must seem in comparison.

“What are you suggesting?” Yue spoke clearly, but close beside her, Katara could hear a slight shakiness to her voice. She knew exactly what he was suggesting.
The Firelord smiled fully, and Katara flinched. The man’s face was severe, and his smile did not suit it. It cut through his jaw more like a snarl. Again, Katara noticed the Prince shift in his seat, out of the corner of her eye.
“Our kingdoms will be joined by marriage.” The Firelord said simply, he turned back to face the flames. Katara felt sick once more, and she sensed Yue shift slightly beside her. Glancing at her, she saw her grow paler still, and a bead of sweat rolled down her temple. Yue took a moment to compose herself. Katara began to panic, her eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out. Her breath came in short puffs, and her pulse became deafening in her ears.
She was about to make a break for the doors she had come through earlier when she suddenly caught the Prince’s eye. The sternness in his expression before was still there, but something softened in his eyes that made Katara pause.

It made her hesitate long enough to miss her opportunity, the Firelord turned back towards them. He looked at Yue, who had managed to keep her gaze fixed on him still. Then he turned his gaze to Katara, and he narrowed his eyes, considering her. Although he stood across the room, he felt far too close, his presence made Katara’s skin crawl.

“The Northern Water Kingdom is powerful.” Yue said suddenly. The Firelord looked back to her, and Katara remembered to breathe. The two Princesses were standing side by side, but now Yue moved in front of her, as if protectively.
“An alliance with them would benefit you greatly.” She said the word alliance as if it pained her. Yue spoke confidently, but Katara could see her tense shoulders and knew how much she hated the idea of giving in to the Fire Nation. Her next words shocked Katara.
“You would gain nothing by allying with the South, they are weak and not a threat to you. Let them exist peacefully, and I will marry into the Fire Nation.”

Katara stared at her, amazed that she would suggest this. Yue avoided looking at her, instead keeping her eyes on the Firelord. Katara found herself glancing back at the brother and sister. The Princess seemed to be inspecting her nails, as if the entire ordeal bored her. The Prince watched Yue, he also seemed to be surprised at her words. The Firelord looked unconvinced, he turned his back on the two of them again, this time directing his gaze to his children. Katara looked around the room, searching for an exit again. There was no water in the room, the only liquid close by was the oil that filled the basins that held the flames. Nothing to bend.

Back still turned to them, the Firelord finally answered. “I am aware that the physical advantage of gaining the Southern Tribe would be inconsequential.” Katara clenched her jaw. The Firelord continued. “However, the image of an allegiance with the Water Tribe would not be absolute without both the North and the South under my control.”
“You don’t want peace,” Katara suddenly found her voice, her fear forgotten to anger, “you don’t want to end the war.” Once she said it, though, it seemed so obvious and she felt foolish for only just realising now. He only wanted to control the Water and Earth Kingdoms, the war would end, yes, it would all be Fire Nation.
The Firelord was once again looking at her, and although Katara was scared, she could not appear to be. She narrowed her eyes and squared her shoulders in defiance.
“If you refuse,” his voice was soft “then my generals will lay waste to the people of the Water Tribe. Your village” he said the word mockingly, “will be destroyed, and all of your people will be killed.” He turned his gaze to Yue. “The fate of the moon and ocean spirits are in my hands. If I give the word, there will be no more waterbenders. Your army will be defenceless, and your people will be eradicated.” He turned away from them once again, and walked to stand before the flames. He was waiting for their answer.

Katara suddenly felt cold. How could he eradicate waterbenders? She had no time to process this, but she understood now that the Fire Nation had a death grip on the Water Tribe. Neither Katara nor Yue had any advantage over the Firelord. Yue had tried to save Katara at the cost of her own freedom, and had failed. Katara looked at her now, the Princess seemed to be scrambling for another option, but Katara knew there was only one.
“The United Water Kingdom pledges their allegiance to you, Firelord.” Katara kneeled as she spoke, and she knew they were all looking at her. She kept her eyes on the floor in front of her. Yue remained standing, no doubt only slightly more shocked at Katara’s actions than Katara herself. She waited, and eventually Yue knelt beside her. Finally, the Firelord spoke.
“A wise choice, Princess.” Katara clenched her jaw to keep from talking back. “You will both be escorted back to your rooms, I hope we will continue to see eye to eye in the foreseeable future.” Katara peered up at him, a small smirk was creeping across his face. In her mind, she was channelling all her rage for the man into an ice spear hurling towards his face. In reality, she stood with Yue, and let herself be led back to the lush room she first arrived in.

~
Zuko watched the Princesses go, a glimmer of admiration for the Southern Princess. He pitied them both, the Firelord was ruthless, and now he had both Water Tribes under his thumb. Zuko wondered at his father’s plan for the Princesses, and how his general had managed to capture the moon and ocean spirits from such a supposedly impenetrable fortress.
Once the doors were closed, and the three of them were alone, Zuko waited, watching the Firelord. Azula spoke first.
“Well that was tedious.” She sighed. “I was hoping they would resist more…” Zuko spared her a glance, and saw that she was playing with a ball of blue fire. Irritation prickled him, his sister had a disturbing taste for violence. The Firelord ignored her, instead turned toward the flames, his eyes flicked towards Zuko, who averted his eyes quickly. He waited, when his father said nothing he looked up. The Firelord was gazing at the Fire Nation tapestries that hung on either side of the room in contemplation. Zuko tried to make out his expression to no avail.
Azula made an irritated noise when no-one acknowledged her and hopped out of her seat. The Firelord still did not look towards her. It was clear that he was waiting for her to leave, and Zuko felt a flicker of fear that he wanted to speak to him alone. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Azula strode out with her head held high. Zuko could not remember a time when she was ever shy or embarrassed.
The doors closed once again, and Zuko was alone with the Firelord, again Zuko waited for his father to speak. The Firelord kept his gaze on the tapestries, walking closer to stand in front of it.
“The Northern Water Tribe is a powerful nation,” he began, “we were only able to break past their defences after several years of intelligence gathering from spies we had planted in to North Pole.” Zuko knew this, but he waited for the Firelord to continue. “General Zhou unexpectedly arrived back in the Fire Nation with both the Moon spirit and the Ocean spirit on board his ship.” He chuckled. “I admire his ingenuity, this change in tactics will make it easier to control the Water Tribe, and acts as a secondary insurance for Princess Yue’s cooperation.” The first would be the Fire Nation troops he had left in the North Pole, to round up the waterbenders. So far, his father’s explanation made sense, however he was still confused about the arrangements with the two Princesses. Unsure of how to voice his question, he decided to be direct.
“Do you plan to marry both Princesses?” When he spoke, the words made him wince. He hoped his father did not notice.
“No.” Was his only response. The Firelord turned slightly, settling his gaze on the Prince.
Zuko swallowed, his father planned for him to marry one of the Princesses. Feeling a little light-headed, Zuko was grateful be seated. He bowed his head slightly, attempting to appear obedient. Marriage was a tool for political manoeuvres, it was rarely without external motive in royal families. Zuko reminded himself that it would be for the good of the Fire Nation, and by extension, the people of the Water Tribe, who would become servants of the Fire Nation.
Apparently taking his response as agreement, the Firelord continued.
“You will wed the Southern Princess, control of the Southern Water Tribe will be your responsibility, though it should not be much trouble, they are little more than a single fishing village.” Zuko barely heard his father speak, but kept his head bowed respectfully. When he finished, Zuko felt his legs stand, and walk out of the throne room, his head still spinning.

~
He paced back and forth in his chambers. It had been only a few hours since the meeting with the Water Tribe Princesses, and he was to marry the Southern Princess… Katara. The thought of this marriage felt like a weight on his spirit. Somehow, he felt uncertain, despite the knowledge that this was the best arrangement between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribe that he could hope for. The alternative was the Fire Lord’s army slaughtering the Water Tribe, just as the Air Nomads were one hundred years ago.

And yet, Zuko felt it was wrong.

~
As soon as she was left alone in her room, Katara collapsed in a heap, her legs no longer able to support her. She had spent almost an hour trying to chase her thoughts as they spun rapidly across her mind. By the time she was able to stand, the exhaustion hung like a weight, and she shuffled to the enormous bed that sat centred against the wall. She flopped down on the mattress and welcomed the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

The next day Katara woke just before the sun rose, and in the faint light she took in her surroundings more carefully. The room was not as big as she had originally thought. Although much larger than any of the huts back in her village, it was miniscule in comparison to the large chamber in which she had met the Fire Lord the day before. Everything in the room screamed Fire Nation, and Katara felt a surge of anger, which chased away the fear a little.

Pacing around the room, she examined the door, the window, and the walls for any opening that was large enough for her to fit through. The window was reinforced with metal, and had small plates of glass that would make a lot of noise if she tried to break them. Even if she were to do so, however, she would not fit between the bars. The door was clearly locked from the outside, but how, she did not know. It was also likely that there were guards posted behind them in case she managed to open them somehow. There was also a small grate in the floor, just beneath a basin of water that was placed on a wooden stand, against the wall. Katara moved the basin and stand carefully aside, grateful for the presence of water, although not sure it would be much use at the moment. Examining the grate, she saw that it might be large enough for her to fit through it, but where did it lead? She leaned closer and listened, and heard the familiar sound of water flowing in the distance. Excitement flooded her, the grate most likely lead down below the palace, and flushed water out into the ocean. The basin was placed above it so that if she spilled it, it would flow straight into the grate.

After a moment of consideration, Katara placed the stand and basin back over the grate, deciding that this was not the time for an escape. If there was a chance that she could escape the Fire Nation, she had to at least find Yue. She had, after all, attempted to save Katara in sacrificing herself. Katara couldn’t leave her behind.

Katara walked back to the window and peered outside. The sun was starting to rise now, and she squinted to see through the thick glass. Her room faced East, the sun visibly peaking over the horizon. Katara could see the front of the palace, stairs, market square, and the roofs of the houses in the Fire Nation capital. She didn't know much about the geography of the Fire Nation, but she did know that the ship she was brought there on passed through several gates on its way to the capital. She could not go back the same way without being caught. She had to head West, away from the main bay, and find a way to leave by the West coast. This part of the plan was simple enough, but there were still too many unanswered questions. How long would it take to get to the West coast? Would she be able to find Yue? Would the drain lead them out? What would happen to the ocean and moon spirits that the Fire Lord also held captive?

Katara was still mulling over these thoughts when a heavy click came from the door behind her. She turned to see a short, grey man with a beard walk in. He was also dressed in fine robes, but more modest than those that the Fire Lord wore. He held his arms with his hands clasped over his round belly, his sleeves covering his hands. What startled Katara was the open smile that he greeted her with.
“Good morning, Princess.” He said in a pleasant, gravelly voice. “I am General Iroh.” He bowed.
Katara simply starred. He didn’t seem to be bothered by her silence.
“I have brought you some food, and fresh clothes.” He gestured to the servants quietly entering and laying a tray of food, and more fine fabrics onto the bed. Katara watched them warily, not moving from her place by the window. The General smiled again, and ushered the servants out of the room. Katara watched as he walked back over to the door, and turned again to face her.
“I will return in a few moments, I think you could use some fresh air, if you would join me in a stroll around the grounds.” He was clearly waiting for a response from her. Katara glanced at the food on the tray, and the clothes beside it. She did not feel hungry, but knew she should eat if she wanted to build enough strength to escape. She also did not know the first thing about the palace, so perhaps it would be useful to learn the layout before attempting to leave.

Smoothing her features, trying to hide all emotion from her face, Katara nodded at the General. She couldn’t bring herself to thank him. He didn’t seem to mind though, and smiled again before leaving her alone once more.

After picking through the strange foods, and puzzling over the extravagant garments, Katara pulled them over her, and tried to tie the sash around her waist. The doors opened quietly, and a short, young servant entered, closing the door behind her.
“The General thought you might need some assistance with the garments.” She said, politely bowing.
Katara would rather swim in the freezing waters of the South Pole than let someone from the Fire Nation touch her, but she was not in the South Pole. The Fire Nation was strange to her, and she did not yet understand their customs… or their clothes. A small voice in her mind snapped that she did not care whether she would be acceptable to them, but embarrassment won, and Katara nodded at the maid.

The garden was beautiful. Katara had never seen so much green before, and so may colours! The many different flowers pumped sweet smells into the air, and Katara was soon dizzy from it. She was suddenly glad to have the General’s arm to keep her standing.

This was the first time she had been outside, and not on the deck of a ship, in months. Breathing it in, Katara felt some of the tension in her fade, just a little. The General, mercifully, did not pester her with questions, as if this were some strange interrogation method as Katara had expected. Instead he tried to make conversation with her, exclaiming at the beauty of the blossoms, and the pleasant weather. Katara did not answer, but was strangely content to walk beside the man. She let herself exist in the moment, and tried to soak up the unfamiliar warmth of the Fire Nation sun.

They reached a pond, and Katara starred at the creatures swimming in the water. They were birds with shells like turtles, which stayed afloat as they ducked their heads underwater intermittently. The General pulled away from Katara, and knelt at the bank. Taking a small piece of bread from his sleeve, he broke it into even smaller pieces. He handed Katara a portion of it.
“Here, spread this over the water, like this.” He flicked the crumbs onto the water, and they floated there. The birds swam closer and began to peck at the crumbs until there were none left.
“Turtle ducks have lived in this pond since I was a child.” The General said, casually.

Turtle ducks. Katara hesitated, then knelt beside the General and flicked the crumbs onto the water in the same way. The turtle ducks swam forward to quickly scoop them up, before dashing away again. Katara couldn’t help but smile, lost in the simplicity of the moment.

“I am sorry this has happened to you.” The General suddenly said.
Katara blinked, the happy feeling forgotten. Sadness filled her, and she felt so far from home once more. She looked at her hands, and brushed the left-over crumbs onto the grass. The General seemed to regret his words, he tried again.
“I know this is not the outcome you hoped for, but perhaps you may find some happiness here, in the Fire Nation.”

Katara knew his words were meant to be comforting, but the thought of finding happiness in the Fire Nation brought back her anger. She stood, and straightened her robes. The General stood as well, old age making him wince from the abruptness of the movement.

“Forgive me, General,” Katara began, attempting to sound neutral, “but I cannot imagine that my people would ask the same of me.” She turned, and took a step back towards the main entrance.
“Wait! Please, Princess.” The General sounded anxious.
Katara turned, and reluctantly met his eyes.
“You may not know it now, but you have more friends here than you realise.” He smiled, in a friendly manner, but his eyes carried a seriousness that his words did not convey.
Katara frowned, and turned once more to leave the garden, pondering his meaning as she returned to her room.

~

Zuko watched the Princess move around the garden with his uncle through the window. He felt strange, as if there was something about the Princess that he needed to understand, as though she was not what she seemed. The thought made him uneasy, and his thoughts returned, as they often did, to his actions in the cell only weeks ago. His guilty conscience weighed on him more now than it ever had in his life. He felt confused, and the arrival of the two Princesses had put him on edge.

Iroh lead Katara to the pond and began to feed the turtle ducks, and after a moment, the Princess joined him. Zuko wondered where the Northern Princess was, and why Iroh had chosen to speak with the Southern Princess alone. Wariness prickled, and his eyes followed the two of them. Iroh said something to the Princess, and she stiffened. Zuko watched as she stood suddenly, and turned to leave. Iroh spoke again, and she paused. Zuko wondered what it was that made her so suddenly uncomfortable, his uncle had always known how to speak to people, and usually managed to bring out the best in people… Himself excluded.

Guilt weighed on him for a moment, but he ignored it, focussing on the Princess’s retreating form. Turning away from the window, Zuko left the room, and headed down to the garden. His uncle had been behaving strangely since his return from the North, and Zuko had not spent much time with him for what seemed years. Zuko then realised it had been, since he had returned with the Avatar in chains, he had not spoken openly to his uncle, who had been always by Zuko’s side when he was banished, more than a few passing words.

Lost in thought, Zuko walked around to the doors that lead into the garden. Before he opened them, he spotted the Princess in the corner of his eye, quickly disappearing behind a corner on her way to her room. Zuko waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps, then opened the wide doors.

Sunlight warmed his face, and the smells of the garden greeted him as he descended the small steps. His uncle had knelt back down by the bank of the pond, feeding the turtle ducks again, and Zuko remembered how he had sat there with his mother so many years ago. A mixture of emotions weighed on his chest at the memory.

“I thought you might be watching.” His uncle said, a smile in his voice.
Zuko focused on the older man, taking in his casual posture, and relaxed face. Edging forward, he knelt beside him and watched the ripples in the water. He did not know how to begin, and he suddenly felt ashamed of the way that he had disregarded his uncle’s help in his years away from home.
“I’m sorry, uncle.” He said finally.
Iroh did not speak, clearly waiting for Zuko to continue. Zuko steeled himself and went on.
“I never thanked you for your help, when I was banished.” He turned to face him now. “Why did you bother?” He asked, the question had been one of the many things on his mind for the past few months. “Sorry,” he said quickly, realising that he spoke too plainly, “I did not mean to be disrespectful.” He lowered his head, facing the pond again.

His uncle laid a hand on his shoulder, and Zuko glanced up again. His eyes stung, and he scowled to hide his frustration. His uncle smiled at him, and he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. His uncle pulled him into a hug, and Zuko waited until his breathing evened out. He was forgiven, the relief took some of the weight off him, and they stayed like that for a moment.

When Iroh released him, Zuko sat up and tried to smile at his uncle. They sat in silence for a while. His uncle spoke then, responding to Zuko’s question.
“I remained with you because you are my nephew, and I love you.”
The answer was so simple, Zuko felt ridiculous. His relationship with his own father was cold and distant, the strongest emotion he felt towards the man was fear - fear of disappointing and dishonouring him, as he had, so naively years ago. His uncle’s love was the closest thing he had to what he imagined was a normal fatherly affection. Zuko knew that he could not expect a normal family, he was the crowned Prince of the Fire Nation, and with that honour came the burden of his title.

Zuko’s thoughts returned to his marriage to the Princess of the Southern Water Tribe.
“Uncle,” Zuko considered his words carefully, “father plans for me to marry the Southern Princess.” He knew his uncle was aware of the Fire Lords scheme, if not because he was told directly, because his intent was now clear in his capturing both Princesses and bringing them to the capital. Zuko decided he would trust his uncle’s wisdom.
“I am not certain I have faith in the Fire Lord’s plan.” He glanced at his uncle.
Iroh nodded, his brow furrowed in consideration. Zuko waited, not sure how else to voice his concern.
“It is perhaps a more peaceful method of subduing the Water Tribe as an enemy,” his uncle suggested, “but I understand your hesitation.”
Zuko raised his eyebrows in question.
“Something about her makes you hesitate.”

Zuko thought about this. His uncle was right, the Princess seemed to be hiding something, she kept herself distant, and seemed to watch over her shoulder whenever he saw her. He thought it was likely because of how she had been captured, and brought to the Fire Nation in chains, her wariness was completely justified. And yet…

Zuko nodded, and watched his uncle, waiting for advice. It was a few minutes before he spoke again, and Zuko listened intently.
“Perhaps when the choices of those closest to us cause us to doubt, it may be time to consider our own morals, and whether we think that our actions are beneficial, to ourselves, to those close to us, and to the people.”
Zuko tried to follow his uncle’s meaning, watching him closely.
“Your marriage to the Princess was your father’s choice, but it means that you ensure her safety.”
Zuko nodded, understanding. Although the Princess was of the Water Tribe, an enemy to the Fire Nation, she was hardly a criminal. As his wife, she would be tied to the Fire Nation, and safe from the persecution she would surely face alone. His uncle continued.
“It would also help to secure the safety of her people, as well as your own. If the Fire Nation were to attack the Water Tribe now, although the Fire Lord would strike a deadly blow to her people, we would still lose many soldiers to the rage of the Water Tribe.”

Zuko nodded again, feeling the weight creep back to him. He knew that he had a responsibility to his nation, and now he knew that responsibility extended to the Water Tribe.
“The fate of the world on my shoulders…” He muttered under his breath.
His uncle chuckled.
“Perhaps.”
“I can protect her.” Zuko said slowly. “From the Fire Nation…”
His uncle said nothing, and Zuko looked at him. Iroh stroked his beard, lost in thought. Zuko realised that he was considering what to tell him, and wondered what else his uncle knew that he was not telling Zuko.

“From the Fire Lord?” Zuko asked quietly. His uncle did not answer, but his expression was grave. He still seemed to be holding back, and Zuko’s uncertainty grew. He had begun to doubt his father, remembering that during his childhood, the Fire Lord had been eager to claim the throne, despite his uncle being the next heir. His thoughts rushed through his mind, his grandfather’s sudden death, his mother’s coincidental disappearance, and his father’s coronation in place of his uncle. Zuko had been always focused on his own pursuit to please his father and gain his approval. Now he was unsure if he still wanted it.

His uncle stood beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder again.
“Give yourself some time, Zuko.” He smiled, the seriousness of their conversation now disappeared. “It is hard to accept such a burden at once.”
Zuko nodded, and watched as his uncle walked back inside, leaving him alone by the water.

~

The Wedding

She stood with the Prince, neither one looking toward the other. They faced a sage who spoke about the strength of the Fire Nation, and the strength of the people as one… Katara blocked out his voice, and kept her eyes trained on the patterns of his robes.

Eventually, he reached for her hand, in which she held the ring, and she had to resist the urge to pull away. Swallowing her growing anxiety, she let the sage tie one end a delicate sash gently to her wrist, and the other to the Prince’s. They faced each other now, and Katara struggled to meet his eyes. She desperately held the tears back, trying to keep her face from crumpling. She set her jaw stubbornly, to convince herself more than him that she was not afraid.

His eyes were almost gold, just like his father’s, but there was no glint of the cruelty which she saw in the Fire Lord. His scar, red and angry, marred the left side of his face, and was a stark contrast to the right side, which Katara could now see was younger than she had first assumed. Now, without the clear look of disdain she had seen in the throne room across his face, he appeared somewhat handsome.

The sage began to speak again, and Katara swallowed, looking down at her bound hand. It was tightly clenched into a fist, the ring hidden beneath her whitened knuckles. Fear began to make it shake, and Katara lost control of her expression, letting her brows fall and her eyes squint. A tear fell then, and Katara let it, it didn’t matter, surely he’d seen beneath her mask now. She kept her eyes down, thinking of her mother, and wishing she could run into her arms like she did when she was small. Grief, along with fear, pulsed within her, and Katara did not know how much longer she could stand there.

She felt a hand touch her wrist, and glanced up, surprised. Instead of the sage, the Prince gently held her wrist. Quickly checking on the sage, she saw that he was facing the crowd, droning on still. She looked back at the Prince. The touch did not seem to be a comforting gesture; his eyes were focused on her hand. Katara sucked in a quiet breath, and the Prince glanced at her briefly. Taking her still closed hand in his, he looked up at her again, waiting. Katara slowly opened her hand, feeling another tear roll down her cheek. He wanted to see the ring.

The small, gold ring lay in the centre of her palm. Katara felt a jolt of panic shoot through her when she saw that it was completely encased in ice. She looked up at the Prince in fear. No one knew she had bending abilities, she needed it to be a secret, it was her only advantage in escaping. Now the Prince of the Fire Nation knew, and she would be kept a prisoner forever, if he let her live.

The Prince’s eyes widened slightly in disbelief, but said nothing. It felt hours passed as he stood staring, and Katara’s heart was thundering in her chest. What would he do? Her fear began to take control, and it urged her to run. She tried to pull her arm away, but the Prince quickly tugged her back by her arm with his other hand and held her in place. Eyes wide, Katara stared up at him, and she saw the shock was gone from his face. In its place, she saw certainty, he had decided her fate. She sent a prayer to the spirits and shut her eyes tightly, powerless now.

Suddenly, she felt the him pry her fingers open again, and then felt a searing heat on her hand. She winced, opening her eyes to stare at the Prince’s hand, palm lying flat on hers. Confused, she tried again to pull her hand away, but the Prince held her firmly in place. The heat faded quickly, and he lifted his hand a little. The ring, apart from being wet from the melted ice, appeared perfectly normal, and Katara looked up at the Prince. He loosened his grip on her arm, but the look in his eyes commanded her to stay still. She did.

Still bewildered at what the Prince had done, Katara tried to regain her composure. The sight of the ring had been a slap in the face and the Prince’s actions had momentarily chased away her fear. The sage had completed the ceremony, and without missing a beat, the Prince took the ring from Katara’s hand, slipping it onto her finger, as if it were all part of the ceremony. The sage handed her a ring, and she did the same for the Prince. He took her hands in his, and the sage uttered a final blessing. They were husband and wife.

~

Zuko’s mind went blank. A waterbender. His bride was a waterbender. He saw the fear in her eyes, and barely had time to process the situation. In moments they would be wed, and expected to exchange rings. Unfortunately, the ring was frozen, but that was the least of their problems. If his father made the discovery, Zuko did not know what would happen to her. Yes, he realised all at once, yes I do.

In that moment, Zuko understood several things. He was responsible for the life of this woman, and he could decide her fate in an instant. He also knew then that she would not survive if he revealed her. It was the final realisation that shocked him, however, that he could not, and did not, trust his father.

The Fire Lord was ruthless. He had no regard for the lives of the Water Tribe, and Zuko knew he would give the order to butcher them if it meant victory. The Princess’s people were in the hands of a malicious, brutal monster. Zuko felt sick, his thoughts ran rampant, but he was jerked back to the present when he felt the Princess try to pull her arm away. He tugged her back toward him by her other arm, and held her still. If she fled now, she would be caught, and the ring discovered. There was only one choice, to go ahead with the ceremony.

Zuko straightened, and tried to ignore the Princess’s panicked expression. He waited a moment, listening to the sage finish his address. Once he began to bless the marriage, Zuko acted. Holding her arm with his left hand still, he placed his right over her now closed hand. He pushed her fingers aside, he pressed his palm against hers. He tried to appear casual, as if this was part of the ceremony. All eyes were on them now.

Creating a low heat between their hands, Zuko worked quickly to melt the ice. He felt her pull against him in shock, but he held on tight. They could not appear that anything was wrong. He willed her to understood that. Once he finished, he lifted his hand high enough for her to see that the ring was free of ice, and quickly plucked it from her hand for the exchange. He timed it perfectly, slipping the ring onto her finger, he let out a quiet breath, relief flooding him. They were safe.

He was somehow surprised when she held his hand up and slipped another ring onto his finger, and suddenly he remembered why they were there. His new wife looked up at him, confusion still evident on her face. She did not understand why he helped her, but it did not matter. As he had realised the day before, by the pond, she was his responsibility, because now, they were married.

~

Chapter Text

The turtle ducks paddled lazily around the scattered bread crumbs. Their cheerful quacks as Katara threw more bread out onto the water made her smile a little. Spending her mornings like this, before the heat of midday chased her inside, gave her some measure of peace for a brief moment. The South Pole was too cold for turtle ducks, but she had memories of feeding otter penguins when she was a child, innocent and unburdened by loss and grief. Before the war took that from her as well.

Katara knew she was being watched. While her recent cooperation had earned her the freedom to move around parts of the palace without a chaperone, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that her comings and goings weren’t constantly supervised. Today, her shadow remained at a distance, though she could see the glint of metal from the guard’s uniform in the distance, he held his post in the corner of the surrounding pergola. Katara made a show of pretending she couldn’t see him, plastering a serene expression on her face. Or attempting to. She suspected she looked a little mad. It was unlikely anyone would believe she was content in her position. Even though it had been weeks since Katara had been brought to the Fire Nation in chains, she doubted she could fool anyone into thinking she was happy to be there. Compliant, though, she could manage.

Movement on the other side of her vision jarred Katara from her rumination. The interruption was probably for the best, as her thoughts had begun to spiral in a more hatred-fuelled direction. She offered the approaching figure a hesitant smile.

“The ducks will become too fat to swim at this rate, being fed so well.”

Katara huffed out a quiet laugh, but refrained from tearing off anymore of the bread in her hand. The turtle ducks had slowed in their search for the now soggy bread and several had started to swim away. Katara simply watched them go as her companion knelt beside her. A single duckling approached them curiously, eyeing Katara’s hands in search of more bread. With a smile, she tore off one last, tiny piece and tossed it just in front of the duckling.

“I always found this place peaceful. Like an oasis within a desert.”

Katara looked at her husband then. Zuko was gazing at the water, his expression making her think that a part of his mind was somewhere far away. Or perhaps, like her, thinking back to happier times.

“Or within a lion’s den.” She whispered, careful not to be overheard beyond where they sat before the tiny pond.

Zuko glanced at her, a small, sad smile at her comment. It was easy to forget sometimes, like this, that the walls around her were that of a prison. That she was a prisoner, and while the prince was surprisingly kind, Katara felt the grip of panic threaten to squeeze the breath from her every day she remained in the Fire Nation. A fish out of water. Katara fought a scowl at the memory of the Firelord’s words. She focused on the flow of the water before her. The turtle ducks’ ripples caused the tiniest of waves on the bank in front of their knees.

Katara jerked once more when she felt a hand on hers. Zuko did not meet her eyes, keeping his gaze on the water as well, but she felt a familiar warmth, beyond that of his touch, and glanced down briefly to see a faint glow between their skin. Katara noticed with a sigh that her fingers glittered with frost, and that the damp ground near the bank had begun to form a thin layer of iciness as well. Zuko’s touch was hardly meant as a comfort. His own bending was so refined and controlled, that he maintained only enough heat to quickly melt the frost she had accidentally formed. Katara felt a stab of jealousy at his excellent training, she had never had a teacher, all of her bending was instinctive, reactive. She struggled to control the ice that formed whenever her emotions became overwhelming.

The warmth receded, but Zuko kept his hand over hers. When Katara glanced his way he simply flicked his eyes up to hers before casting them briefly to her left. Katara dropped her gaze and swallowed. She could hear the guards’ footsteps as her chaperone was relieved from his shift and replaced. The prince sighed and focused once more on the pond.

Ever since the wedding, Zuko had been consistent in his resolution to keep Katara’s identity as a waterbender a secret. There had been a few times after the ring incident when he had carefully moved to spill a goblet before the rippling of its contents were noticed by anyone else, or attempt to soothe Katara’s fear or anger when they were being watched, which was constantly. In the privacy of their shared bedchamber, Zuko insisted on them sharing the bed at night, lest a servant enter without them noticing and seeing them on separate bedding. It would lead to questions, and Zuko seemed to desire his father’s attention as little as she did. That didn't stop Katara forming a wall of pillows between them.

To say this insistence to keep a facade of happy marriage surprised Katara at first would be an understatement. For the first few days of their marriage, Katara never spoke a word to her new husband. Not until it became clear that he was not about to expose her or take advantage of her in any way. Eventually she became curious enough to accept his company when he approached her in the courtyard, her chosen sanctuary in this place. She still did not speak to him, but he seemed to accept this for now. He would attempt conversation, though it was unsurprisingly one-sided at first, and settled for filling the silence with updates from the city, the palace and even, sometimes, strange sightings from out in the world.

After a week or so, Katara asked if Zuko had ever seen the Earth Kingdom himself. Shaking his initial surprise at her question, the two attempted their first conversation with delicate care. Zuko sticking to generic, safe topics, and Katara careful to choose how much to encourage further questions. After several weeks of their tentative marriage, Katara trusted Zuko enough to not drag her before the Firelord as a bender, but still kept herself at a distance, reluctant to give the prince any further leverage.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, content in each other’s presence by now. It was Zuko who eventually broke the silence. His next words grabbed Katara’s attention, though she kept her face as neutral as possible.

“Water tribe ships were reported on the South West coast of the Earth Kingdom. Only a few, and small, hardly warships from the reports but…” Zuko trailed off.

It was an offer, a show that he wanted to give her hope. It was an attempt at kindness, and Katara guessed he felt guilty in the knowledge of her powerless position. She supposed he felt the least he could do was let her know whenever he got wind of information she would find important. Perhaps give her a window to the outside world. Katara looked down at her hands to hide her grimace. She didn't need a window, she needed a door. She tore another piece of bread off from the roll and tossed it into the water. Only two ducks paid it any attention, the others were content and floated by the bank, napping.

Smaller ships. They were unlikely to be Northern Water Kingdom ships, the few of which Katara had seen were as large as those in the Fire Nation navy, powered by bending. The Southern Water Tribe had nothing but canoes for fishing, but Katara remembered, vaguely, the huge war boats her father left with when she was still small. Perhaps they were not as big as she remembered. A flash of anger at the thought of her father broke through the faint hope. If the ships spotted were Southern Water Tribe…

“The Firelord has spies in the Earth Kingdom?” Katara asked suddenly, trying to keep her anger from surfacing.

Zuko hesitated, unsure how much he wanted to share. “The reports came from patrols off the coast,” he said eventually.

Katara swallowed her frustration, but gently pulled her hand away. Zuko’s eyes followed her as she stood.

“See you at dinner.” She said as politely as she could manage.

Katara offered him a smile, though she struggled to make it reach her eyes, before she turned and left her husband to his own thoughts.

~

The royal family took their supper at sunset, as they did every day, in the main dining room. The receding sunlight cast a gentle glow through the glass of the closed windows. Katara still hadn’t gotten used to the warmth of the Fire Nation, she was used to feeling the slight sting of icy wind on her face during a snow storm. Here, the air was stagnant, even when the windows were open, Katara found it stifling here. She had taken to abandoning some of her undergarments, the excessive layers of Fire Nation fashion making it completely unapparent at her secret state of undress.

Katara sat beside the prince, her eyes downcast to avoid looking at the increasingly sunken face of the Firelord’s new wife and the unsettling glee on the face of his daughter. Ozai, for the most part, ignored Katara, much to her relief. But the Northern princess had grown thinner, paler, and more and more a husk of herself every day. Katara felt a little piece of herself chip away each time she caught sight of her Northern sister. Yue had been a terrifying force of nature when they had been brought to the Fire Nation together, only to be shackled to the monster that haunted Katara’s nightmares. It was obvious that in just a few short weeks of marriage, Ozai had been intent on more than just keeping Yue as a pawn for political purposes. He was intent on breaking her very soul. Though no marks could be seen, Katara knew with complete certainty that Yue’s body was rife with bruises, marks and likely scars attributed to the Firelord’s mistreatment. Guilt festered deep in Katara’s core at her inaction to free them both, but she could not go anywhere in the palace without eyes on her constantly. She would lose the little freedom she had gained in her cooperation if she were seen venturing to the Firelord’s bedchamber, where Yue remained locked away except for meals and public events where her presence would be expected.

Katara picked at her food silently, trying not to draw attention to herself as she did her best to ignore the hums and pointless chatter of Azula. The princess spoke to no one in particular, simply bragging about her instructor’s compliments and her excellent progress in her training.

“He said my lightning has become perfectly directed, it completely destroyed the tip of the Eastern turret. The fool was standing too close however, his eyebrows will likely take longer to grow back than the repairs to the East wing.” Azula laughed.

When the Firelord simply nodded and muttered “good, good,” Azula pouted. Katara refrained from wincing when she heard her voice turn their way now.

“Zuzu, you should really start training with Master Zoryu if you want to learn any beyond the basic forms.”

Katara said nothing, not even raising her head.

“What happened to Lo and Li?” Zuko simply asked before eating another bite.

Azula sighed dramatically. “Those two couldn’t light a fire even if someone handed them a match. Why should I listen to two old non-benders? A firebending prodigy needs a firebending instructor.” She sat back and swung a hand upwards, heat bursting from her fingertips.

Katara’s eyes followed the movement, a show-off display of talent, blue flame dancing brilliantly across her knuckles. In the corner of her eye, Katara saw Yue flinch. Realisation struck her like a physical blow and the chopsticks in Katara’s hand creaked softly in her grip. It wasn’t just Ozai that was responsible for Yue’s current state. Katara knew in that moment that Azula made her own contribution to the princess’s suffering.

Katara moved her gaze to Azula once more, who continued to ignore her, as well as everyone else at the table now. The girl propped her feet up, not reacting when the Firelord cleared his throat in annoyance. Katara’s hatred for Azula was like a shard of ice growing in her core. In her mind’s eye, Katara saw frozen daggers hurling towards the monstrous girl, the fear in her eyes only fuelling the rage she felt.

Warmth trickled over her shoulders and Katara blinked. She glanced sidelong at her husband. Zuko did not look at her, keeping his attention on his plate, but the unnatural warmth spread over her back and around her arms. It was like an embrace of warm air, his firebending in that moment so delicate, it could have been mistaken for airbending. Katara forced herself to slowly release the anger she gripped like a vice, and noticed with a start that her cup had frozen over without her realising. Again? She chided herself silently. Zuko slowly thawed the ice until it had completely melted again. No one at the table seemed to notice this change, Zuko’s composure never altering.

Bored, Azula stifled the flames and kicked her feet off the table. Yue visibly relaxed and Katara clenched her skirt in a fist under the table. Zuko glanced at his sister but otherwise did not react. The air had grown stuffy, despite the room being quite spacious. Katara tried to breathe normally, determined not to show her discomfort. The silence stretched on for a few more seconds before Azula groaned and stood, since it was clear no one would pay her any attention. Zuko’s eyes followed her as she strutted out of the dining room. Ozai sighed when Azula was out of earshot and his gaze settled on Zuko. Katara kept her gaze lowered but sensed Zuko stiffen beside her. She resisted the urge to look in his direction though, intent still not to draw the Firelord’s attention.

“Your sister has become increasingly petulant the last few years. Since your return, really.”

Zuko said nothing, simply sighed and forced himself to take a sip of his drink. Katara only knew it was an act because she sensed the warm blanket around her vanish as soon as the Firelord spoke. It was a slight relief actually, suddenly the room didn’t feel as unbearably hot. But she guessed Zuko’s focus was now on maintaining this appearance of unbothered indifference. Katara took the opportunity to glance at Yue. The woman seemed to deflate slightly now that Azula was gone, she did not meet Katara’s eyes. Katara looked away quickly, worried she would not be able to mask her reaction at Yue’s current state.

“Married life suits you, Prince Zuko.” The Firelord said after a moment’s consideration.

It was Katara’s turn to stiffen, she kept her eyes downcast but saw Zuko shift out of the corner of her eye. He was looking at her. Katara drew her attention back to her food and took a slow bite of whatever it was, not tasting anything.

“I suppose,” Zuko said with a cold tone completely alien to Katara’s ears, “perhaps it would temper Azula too.”

Katara just barely caught herself from spitting her food out. She forced away the smile that threatened to curl on her lips and brought a napkin to them demurely. Zuko’s hand gently touched Katara’s back in an affectionate gesture, and even though Katara’s first instinct was normally to shift away from the touch, she allowed it, more focused on keeping her face neutral though she knew Zuko felt her shake with suppressed laughter.

The Firelord huffed out a laugh and went back to his food. Katara risked a look up at him as Zuko removed his hand. Ozai had returned to his food but when Katara turned to Yue the princess had lifted her eyes slightly from the plate she had barely touched. Katara watched her as Yue slowly raised her gaze to meet Katara’s. There was so much pain in those eyes, countless sleepless nights were clear as day on her face. The despair in Yue’s expression crushed Katara’s chest like a vice. She had to do something, to get them out of there. They couldn’t remain her much longer, or there would be nothing of the brave Northern Princess left.

~

Chapter Text

The morning was crisp, winter definitely approaching, though the days still became pleasant once the sun had a chance to share its warmth. Most people would still be in bed at this hour, savouring the time spent wrapped in soft blankets and holding on to that sweet bliss of sleep a few hours longer, but Zuko woke before dawn out of habit now. While the prince used to groan and complain frequently about the interruption to his sleep, the inconvenience of having to train at such a ridiculous hour, now that he and his uncle had returned to the Fire Nation, Zuko felt a strange joy at the familiar routine of rising early to train.

Iroh watched silently, his face expressionless, as Zuko repeated the same basic form for the fifth time in a row. At sixteen, he’d have complained, brash and impatient to continue to the next set, desperate to move past the basic manoeuvres and prove he could handle more complex lessons. However, at twenty, he realised the infuriatingly slow pace his uncle insisted on during his training was a lesson in itself. Patience.

Zuko remained in the final stance, ignoring the burning in his thighs as he waited for his uncle’s permission to relax. A tiny, petulant voice in his head moaned that the only word he would hear was ‘again’ but Iroh made a gruff sound of approval and Zuko stood, shaking his legs out with a sigh and bowed.

“Have you been practicing the movement I showed you?”

Zuko nodded at his uncle, who stood from where he sat on the trunk of a fallen tree nearby. He walked to Zuko and handed him a cloth to wipe away the sweat.

“Good. We will work on the next form tomorrow, but keep practicing it as well.” Iroh patted him on the shoulder and turned away, they were done for the morning.

“Uncle,” Zuko said before Iroh walked too far, “do you really think this is still necessary?”

Iroh paused, clearly taking his nephew’s words seriously, and turned back a little to face him. Since their return to the Fire Nation, his training had continued. Even once his banishment was lifted and Zuko was offered training with highly regarded masters, he ignored the offers. Zuko spent days sleeping, barely leaving his chambers, the two years at sea had weighed heavily on his body and his mind, but when a week had passed, he sought out his uncle.

Iroh had, at first suggested Zuko continue his daily regimen of training, as he had during his banishment, but the sixteen-year-old prince could not be convinced to return to a routine that he kept during a time he associated with such misery. It was months before Iroh managed to coax Zuko out of his moody shell, proving to be the only person in the palace that truly cared enough to try. Azula found amusement at his random outbursts during this time, and enjoyed taunting him when she had the chance, but soon grew bored as well. Over the course of the next year, Zuko began to find comfort in a familiar routine, though his mood continued to sour when he would have to return to palace life. The early morning, before anyone else awoke, despite the sweat and physical labour, was his sanctuary.

“Yes, nephew. One day it could make all the difference.”

That was all his uncle said before he turned and continued to the edge of the forest clearing he had chosen for training, a space away from prying eyes. Zuko rolled his shoulders, and began stretching as he watched Iroh leave. He wondered if his uncle had always been so strangely cryptic, and he was only now just noticing, or if something had changed. He thought about his releasing the Avatar some weeks ago now, and the utter lack of panic or even concern, not so much as a whisper of suspicion…

To say it hadn’t kept him up at night in the beginning, worrying that he would wake to a platoon of guards coming to arrest him for treason, or worse – his father – would be understating it. Zuko drove himself to exhaustion after three days of his body being on high alert, and was bed-ridden for three more from the fever it caused. An yet, nothing happened. No guards came, the Firelord said nothing of the Avatar, and it was as if the entire event of his freeing Aang had never happened. Zuko’s mind was at its breaking point. Only his uncle had come to stay by his side during that time, as he always had, and it added to the guilt Zuko had felt at his continued short temper and disrespectful manner towards the man who stood by him in his banishment.

Zuko shook his head to dismiss the dark, swirling thoughts. He had been forgiven, his uncle had forgiven him. There was nothing he could do about how he acted in the past, but now Zuko was determined to prove he was worthy of his uncle’s love and dedication. That he continued to insist on training Zuko himself was a wonder, Zuko still didn’t know why he bothered. But he was grateful nonetheless.

Again though, Zuko wondered why no word had come from the High Temple, despite being just North of the palace. He continued to keep an eye out for any letters or messenger hawks entering the palace, going so far as to feigning an interest in seeking spiritual advice when asking a messenger about any news from the temple. The only reason Zuko could think of that no one at the High Temple had raised the alarm immediately was that the Fire Sages, their loyalty to the Avatar so profound, they kept his escape secret from the rest of the Fire Nation. Zuko had spent the last few weeks debating whether to return to the temple and confirm this theory, or if it was the safer course to continue to act as though he knew nothing, and avoid implicating himself in an act of high treason.

Finishing his stretches, Zuko sighed, pushing aside those thoughts once again. He did not regret his decision, Aang was free, and Zuko seemed to have escaped any consequences. For now, that is. Groaning, he stood. With each passing day, the silence from the temple became more and more mysterious, and by now, Zuko had relaxed enough from his hypervigilance that his curiosity had grown harder to ignore. If the Fire Sages were going to turn him in for his actions, they likely would have by now. His visits to the Avatar had been infrequent, and he tried to be subtle when he did travel to the temple, but he had no doubt the sages at least suspected him. Perhaps it was worth the risk to find out what it was exactly that had the sages keeping the Avatar’s disappearance to themselves.

~

Katara shivered, the bath water she sat in had now reached a frigid temperature. The only time she wasn’t being watched was when she bathed, much to her relief. With the brief privacy, and access to water, Katara utilised the time to practice her bending. There was little she could attempt, unable to even step out of the tub lest the servants outside hear and flood into the room to dry and dress her. And so Katara was forced to remain in the water, though the fear of trapping herself in ice helped a little with her concentration.

It took a few minutes for her to cool the water on purpose, normally she did so without realising thanks to heightened emotions, but she managed to keep it from freezing entirely. Still, her teeth chattered but she clenched her jaw to keep from making too much noise. Now for the hard part. Katara tried to picture ice melting, she imagined the sound of water dripping from it. The temperature of the water did not change. Katara groaned softly, shifting. She pictured the sun rising over the South Pole, its bright light reflecting off the ice and warming her face. The water rippled slightly but only changed from freezing to chilly. That was progress…

Katara imagined sunlight, warm and nurturing, but nothing happened. She let her mind wander, casting back to her memories of being on the ice, feeling the crunch of snow under her feet, the smell of salt from the sea. Her brother’s face flashed in her mind’s eye and Katara winced, but the water around her rippled before warming a little more. Katara opened her eyes in disbelief, she glanced at the door and listened, making sure no one outside had moved, no one suspecting anything yet. She leaned back against the wall of the tub and closed her eyes once more.

She thought of Sokka again, his goofy grin when he succeeded in catching a fish, a rarity, his pout when she pointed out his snot had frozen to the edge of his nostril. Katara felt a smile brush across her face. The water warmed slowly, and Katara’s clenched muscles relaxed one by one. She thought of her grandmother’s smile and her father’s pained look when he sailed away from them.

She stopped. The water was comfortably warm and Katara was done revisiting the past. She felt her eyes burn but shook the tears away. Enough for today, she thought and stood. As expected, two maids rushed in and helped her out of the bath, wrapping a towel around her and guiding her out of the bathroom.

The success of her self-guided lesson buoyed Katara’s mood that afternoon, and she decided she felt brave enough to explore a little. Ignoring the guard’s footsteps behind her, she strolled through the hallways she was permitted to access and stopped at a large set of doors that were propped open. Inside was a cavernous room lined with shelves and filled with many more of them across it’s considerable floorspace. Books, scrolls and other unidentifiable objects lined them. The room was unoccupied save for one person, who sat at a table between the rows of shelves and the doors where Katara stood.

General Iroh looked up from the scroll he poured over and smiled, surprise evident on his face. Katara did not smile back but hesitantly approached.

“May I… join you?” She asked after a few seconds of awkwardness.

“Of course.” Iroh smiled again and returned to his reading.

Katara glanced around. She had never seen so many books. She had never seen a book before she had boarded the Northern Water Kingdom ship. There, she had stared and flipped through the pages in wonder, having only ever handled scrolls made from seal leather in the South. Books were certainly still a novelty for her, but she walked by the shelves, her fingers tracing over the tops of the spines casually, as if she weren’t still in awe of such an innovation but simply perusing.

Her eyes caught on a word as she passed and she paused, pulling out a book on Fire Nation history. She glanced around it and saw nothing about Water Tribe or Earth Kingdom in this shelf. Hugging the Fire Nation tome to her chest, Katara continued browsing, scanning from shelf to shelf, section to section, even climbing a set of stairs tucked behind a pillar to check the books on the second floor. She found nothing on world history, before or after the war.

Disappointed, but perhaps not surprised, Katara plunked herself down in a chair one place down from Iroh. The general glanced up at her exasperated sound and chuckled softly. He looked at the book she opened on the table and hummed appreciatively.

“You are wise to try to learn about the Nation’s history, as part of the royal family.” He nodded and smiled again.

This earned him a cold look from Katara, but he seemed to expect it. She ignored him for a moment. She knew by now the man was somewhat sympathetic to her situation. More like his nephew than his brother, she supposed, and wondered how much Iroh’s influence must have affected Zuko to turn out so different than his father – as far as she could tell anyway. Still, she couldn’t help but grimace at his words.

They sat in silence for several minutes as Katara read, the book certainly contained a lot of interesting parts of the Fire Nation’s history. She learned about Sozin’s comet, that passed by the Earth once every hundred years, about the ancient tradition of agni-kai and even a little about her husband’s family tree. She flipped through the pages without absorbing a lot of it fully, still scanning the text for something about any other culture. A question burned at the front of her mind. Why was there no mention of the eradication of the air nomads? Katara had learned about that from her grandmother, along with legends and stories from before the war about the Avatar and the spirit world. But there was no mention of it here. She reached more modern history topics and still there was no mention of the war beyond Fire Nation boarders. Why was there no mention of the sieges she had heard of in the Earth Kingdom? Or of the raids sent to wipe out the Southern water benders?

Katara’s expression must have given her away because Iroh chucked and she glanced up at him. She felt her face relax from the frown she held and looked down. She took a slow breath, closing the book.

“I thought that installation was incomplete as well.” He said with a sigh and Katara looked at him again.

Iroh was nodding solemnly and Katara huffed out a short laugh.

“I think it is simply that historians like to ignore facts that might put them out of favour of the royal family.” He paused at that, his expression changing, his disappointed look becoming more internally directed in that moment.

Katara lifted the tome and stood to search for another. As she first suspected there were no books or scrolls on any other nations’ history there, but after a second search, she pulled out a book titled Pai Sho techniques from around the world. She walked back to the table with it, turning to the first page to see if there was a description there as she walked. She paused and glanced up at Iroh’s interested-sounding hum.

Iroh’s eyes sparkled as he looked at the book.

“I must admit that I find great pleasure in a good game of Pai Sho.” He continued, casually. “Most people underestimate the importance of the white lotus tile,” he turned the book toward himself, “to some, Pai Sho is more than just a game.”

Katara eyed the old man, not sure he was quite all there, but the look he gave her made her hesitate in that assessment. She glanced again at the book in her hands. A single lotus tile decorated the front cover.

“If I may, my dear,” Iroh rolled up the scroll he was reading, “I know this arrangement is not what you wanted, not in the slightest. But you are not as powerless as you think.”

Katara tensed, ready to march out of the library but, for some reason, she waited. A part of her though maybe she wanted to hear what he had to say. If there was something she could do to earn more of the family’s trust, more freedom…

“Enlighten me.” Katara said with as little gruffness in her voice as she could.

Iroh smiled, as if he couldn’t sense her resentment. “A woman in your position, there are some things you can influence.”

“Like what?” Katara frowned.

“The Firelord put Zuko in command of the Southern Water Tribe, did he not?” Iroh offered her a small smile. “How much the Fire Nation comes to interfere with the South may depend on his decisions. My nephew has always been a decisive young man, but his choices are often driven by his heart.”

Katara’s frown deepened. What exactly was the general suggesting? That the fate of her people was dependent on the prince’s mood? Katara narrowed her eyes at the Firelord’s brother.

“If you’re suggesting I should try to placate him–”

“Not at all.” Iroh said calmly before Katara’s temper could get the better of her tongue. “In fact, I know my nephew well, and I truly believe he would not allow innocent people to be harmed, if there were things he could do to protect them. However…” Iroh shifted and stroked his beard, his expression thoughtful now. “The idea of marriage is still new, to both of you, and I think his focus may be solely on your protection right now.”

Katara’s considered his words and slowly her shoulders relaxed. Iroh was right, Zuko had been protecting her ever since the wedding. She never even bothered to ask why. Shame coloured her cheeks for a moment and Iroh let out a sigh.

“Why would he do that?” Katara asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“This marriage may have been a surprise for both of you,” Iroh said it in a low voice, as if he feared being overheard, “but my nephew has more honour than most.” More than his father, is what he didn’t say.

Katara winced, wishing she could believe it was a lie. Zuko certainly cared enough that he made an effort to conceal her ability, to ensure her secret was safe.

“If I show that I don’t need to be protected, do you think he would even be interested in the welfare of a people so insignificant to the Fire Nation?” Katara met his eyes, struggling to hide her resentment now.

Iroh held her gaze, nothing in his face mocking or derisive. “I do.”

~

Chapter Text

The fate of her people in her hands. It shouldn’t have been a new concept, considering she had long ago taken responsibility for the safety of her village. Despite this, Katara was now accompanied by a fear that she would fail them, that a step in the wrong direction would be the end of the Southern Water Tribe. What she could possibly say to the son of the Firelord to sway him eluded her. Inspiration failed to strike after she all but fled the library, desperate for fresh air. She had stepped out into the pergola surrounding the garden and duck pond and leaned heavily on the wall beside her until her breathing had returned to normal. The late afternoon sun shone like the warm orange glow of a gentle fire onto the stone pathway in front of her. It would have been a charming sight to anyone else, but the thought caused Katara’s stomach to twist as she was once again reminded where she was and why. Had anyone seen the expression on her face in that moment, the pure hatred for the orange and reds that filled every corner of her vision daily, they would have withered at the sight of her. Mercifully, she did not see her husband until dinner.

Katara stifled a groan as the servants brought in the main course. More Fire Nation delicacies, no doubt. Each day a new exotic dish for her and Yue to try. It was almost another form of torture, psychological in nature. Cut off from all things familiar, it felt like a tactic to keep them constantly off balance, never comfortable enough to even consider being un-cooperative. Katara tried to be brave at dinner, keeping a tight grip on her temper and keeping thoughts of her grandmother in the back of her mind – thinking of her mother, brother or father seemed to tip the scales too easily towards anger. She felt she could fluctuate between love and rage too easily if she thought of them while the Firelord sat a mere table’s length away. Thinking of her grandmother kept her somewhat balanced. For now.

Zuko barely spoke during the meal, as usual. He seemed to have the same desire to skip dinner entirely, seemingly as uncomfortable in his family’s presence as Katara was. She doubted that. Ozai was in a talkative mood however, and even seemed to tolerate Azula’s conversation today. Ignoring her last question however, he turned to Zuko.

“Your sister’s instructor has asked about you, Zuko. I have heard he has seen you practicing and is confident your skills are on the same level as–”

“Thank you, father.” Zuko said quickly, taking a hesitant drink and avoiding looking at anyone.

Katara couldn’t hide the surprise that Zuko had interrupted his father. She spared a glance at the Firelord and only saw a flash of surprise.

Zuko put the cup down carefully. “Uncle Iroh has been training me, I’d like to continue our routine.”

The tension in the room was unmistakable. Katara stole a sneaky glance at Yue, but the older princess did not seem to pay the conversation any attention. Guilt stabbed at Katara once more at the princess's absent expression, and she chided herself for the fear she felt. Yue, she was sure, had it immeasurably worse.

Azula sensed the opportunity in the awkward silence and chuckled. “The man is passed his prime, Zuzu. Not that I’m against being the better of the two of us, I’m happy being a league above you.”

The Firelord ignored her. “Zuko.”

Katara stilled at the tone, it resembled a disapproved parental tone, but there was an hollowness to it that sent a chill down her spine. Zuko stiffened beside her as well, but his face did not change, maintaining a bored expression, as if he hadn’t noticed.

“Zoryu is a fine firebending master. It would be a grave dishonour to reject his teaching.”

Katara tried to act normally, despite the Firlord’s now burning gaze in Zuko’s direction. Her fingers had not even touched the cup she now reached for before the tiniest ripple in the surface of the drink caught her eye and the smalled amount of frost appeared on the edge of the cup. She hesitated and took a moment to steady her breathing. Bringing the memory of her grandmother to the forefront of her mind once more, Katara adjusted her sleeve, as if it had caught on something before reaching for the cup again. The liquid did not ripple and the frost disappeared instantly. Glancing to her right, she saw a flash of something cross Zuko’s expression as he glanced her way before he looked back at his plate.

“I do not mean to insult Master Zoryu, father. I simply have not completed my training with Uncle Iroh. Perhaps when we have finished the latest form I have been learning I will train with Master Zoryu. It would be dishonourable to do otherwise.”

Zuko met his father’s eyes this time and Katara used the opportunity to glance his way as well. Neither he nor Azula had noticed her fumble with the cup. She revelled in her successful control in complete silence, taking another sip to hide any hint of joy she could not suppress.

“Hmm.” Ozai did not sound content but did not press the matter further.

Zuko held his gaze for only another moment before he looked back down to his plate and continued picking at his food. Katara saw his shoulders slump, only slightly, as if the little energy he had in that moment left the second he dropped the tough exterior he held up like a mask for his father. Azula hummed as well, in that thoughtful, malicious tone that set Katara’s teeth on edge. As if she also saw the shift in the prince, and either from her extremely apt perceptiveness, or simply years of experience from their childhood, Azula recognised an opportunity.

“I suppose it’s not surprising, our uncle had nothing better to do than keep you company while you were away. Banishment makes for poor company though, Zuzu. But I guess they’re inseparable now.” She turned to their father. “I doubt he’d have time for any more training these days anyway, married life seems to take up so much of a man’s time.” Azula turned her ruthless gaze on Katara then. “Perhaps there is room for more prodigies in the next generation of firebenders. But then again, the skills might be a tad watered down.”

Katara’s blood ran cold. The smirk Azula wore felt like needles along her skin. Zuko had shifted beside her but Katara did not look at him, she refused to turn away from Azula’s pointed look. It wasn’t in Katara’s nature to let an insult slide. Lately, fear had kept her in check, but in the last few weeks she had remained unharmed. The same could not be said for Yue. Squaring her shoulders, Katara schooled her features and imagined her grandmother’s gentle hand on her shoulder as she considered Azula.

“Perhaps, you’re right.” Katara managed in a conversational tone. “Though, if marrying and bringing a new generation of firebenders into the world is the priority, Prince Zuko has perhaps a lead on you, Your Highness.” Katara finished with a slight bow of her head and forced herself to take a bite of food.

Katara did not dare look up in the silence that followed but she felt the stares of all three of them as she carried on with her meal. Ozai laughed then, and Katara jerked before quickly hiding her surprise. A quick glance in Azula’s direction, luckily unobserved as everyone was looking at the Firelord in surprise, showed that the Fire Nation princess had fisted her hands the table cloth, her talon-like nails digging into the fabric savagely. Katara dropped her gaze immediately, not risking catching her eye now.

In the next moment, Azula’s chair scraped back violently and Zuko shot up beside Katara, mirroring his sister. Katara blinked at the two of them in shock, dropping her chop sticks and leaning away from the searing glare that Azula pinned her with. A ball of blue flame floated above her clawed hand, the heat reaching Katara already. Zuko summoned an identical ball of yellow flame, startling Katara further. Azula turned her scowl on her brother.

“Azula.” Ozai rumbled.

The siblings stared at each other for several more seconds, perhaps debating the consequences of an improvised Agni Kai tournament in the dining room. Katara looked Yue’s way again and saw the colour had completely disappeared from her face. I will get you out of here, Katara promised her silently, willing the other girl to hold on. Yue met her eyes briefly and Katara thought she almost seemed a light shade of green.

“Shall we put our respective training to the test, brother?” Azula hissed through perfect teeth.

“I think I can handle myself against you.” Zuko said in a dangerous tone.

“AZULA.”

Both flames went out as the Firelord raised his voice. Ozai’s eyes were locked on his daughter, who slowly sat back down but did not hide her displeasure.

“Leave us.” He flicked his eyes towards Zuko this time before turning slightly to call out behind him. “Ladies.”

A pair of servants hurried in and bowed, waiting.

“Take my wife back to our chambers, she is tired.”

The women nodded and Yue rose slowly, turning toward the servants on slightly wobbly legs. Katara’s chest tightened at the sight of Yue’s increasingly thin frame as she left. A touch at her wrist snapped her attention to her right. Zuko made to stand, his hand seeking hers to help her up. Katara followed him and they hurried out of the dining room before another word was spoken.

Zuko guided Katara into the hallway as the doors to the dining room were closed behind them. Katara watched Yue disappear down the hall, wishing she could hurry after her and speak to her, but her husband had not released her hand. Suddenly, his grip changed, seizing her wrist and pulling her down another corridor in the opposite direction. Katara gasped but said nothing, the guards standing outside the dining room still in earshot. Surprised by Zuko’s sudden change in his gentle and composed demeanour, Katara wordlessly followed as he led them to a quiet, uninhabited hall, decorated on either side by tapestries and beautifully carved columns. Zuko released her wrist and Katara stopped in the middle of the carpeted walkway. He walked on a little further but soon turned back, pacing restlessly.

“Why did you do that?” He asked, not looking directly at her.

“What?” She looked at him, still confused.

“Why did you say that to her?”

Zuko stopped now, facing the wall beside her. His eyes were squeezed shut, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

Katara worked her jaw for a second, considering her words. “I’m not afraid of her.” It was a lie, of course, but she wanted to believe it.

Zuko opened his eyes and his head tilted back as a short laugh escaped his lips. His hand fell away and he looked at her over his shoulder as he began to pace the other way.

“You should be.”

Katara took a deep breath, ignoring the tangible, acrid taste of fear at the thought of Azula cornering her alone if she got too comfortable in the palace. She had no doubt the Fire Nation Princess would not waste the opportunity to make a show of her firebending prowess – using Katara as the canvas to display her talents.

“She can’t hurt me.” Katara said quietly.

Zuko turned to her and looked at her like she was insane.

“Not only am I part of the treaty to keep peace between the United Water Kingdom and the Fire Nation, but I am also-” she swallowed, feeling her voice about to break at the next point, “also a member of the Royal Family.”

Katara levelled her gaze at Zuko who continued to stare at her. The fact that they were standing there, having been asked to leave while the Firelord spoke to his daughter alone was proof enough that she could not raise a hand against them. Zuko still looked like he didn’t believe it was enough to keep Azula in check but his shoulders relaxed slightly.

“You didn’t need to aggravate her in that way.” Zuko said instead, some of the desperation in his voice disappearing.

“No,” Katara admitted, stepping closer to him, “maybe not, but…”

She stood beside him, like they were simply having a casual conversation. Zuko looked down at her, his wariness turning to curiosity. This was the longest they had ever spent speaking to each other in the weeks they had been married. Katara shrugged slightly and allowed a tiny smile onto her face.

“…It was fun to make her speechless for a moment.”

Surprise flashed across his face and Zuko let out a weak laugh. The stiffness went out of his shoulders and Katara felt a laugh begin to make hers shake. She covered her mouth and could not contain the giggle that escaped when Zuko continued to laugh. The two of them stood like that for a moment, sharing what was quite possibly the first laugh in a very long time for both of them. Katara sighed and Zuko ran a hand over his face. For a moment, the last few years seemed not to weigh as heavily on Katara’s shoulders. Just for a moment.

“Still,” Zuko said, almost casually, “I’d steer clear of my sister for the time being… She’d likely be stalking the hallways for a while before she cools off.”

Katara glanced up at Zuko’s face, wondering, not for the first time, how he got the terrible scar that covered half of his face. She looked away before he turned back to her and he held out his arm for her again. She wrapped a hand around his elbow this time, and Zuko led them back to their chambers.

~

Chapter Text

Zuko felt the exhaustion tugging on him as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, but couldn’t sleep if he wanted to. The events at dinner gave him the sickening feeling that Azula would come creeping into his room, as she did when they were children, only this time she wouldn’t simply mock him in her sing-song voice. She had been embarrassed before, she was so used to being the smarted person in the room, Katara’s comment had thrown her, carving a chip in her pride. Zuko wondered at that, he remembered his sister, even as a child, to be so unwavering in her superiority that she could cut a man down with only her words. She must really have been slipping that a joking remark would rattle her so thoroughly. Suddenly Zuko did not know what his sister might do in retaliation.

But Azula did not come. And it had been several hours since dinner. Azula was not the type to sit and stew before acting on her impulses. If she were to come tonight, she would have by now. Whatever was said after they left the room had cowed her enough to steer clear. For tonight, Katara was safe from his sister’s wrath.

Still, Zuko did not dare stir. Katara’s breathing had slowed beside him, and had remained soft and steady for the last hour. Zuko peaked over the barrier of pillows that had remained between them since the first night they had been married, lifting his head slowly so as not to shift the bed. The tense worry that normally lined her forehead was gone, and Zuko considered the delicate arches of her brows, usually furrowed or upturned with apprehension. He watched her for a moment, her face so utterly still and his eyes flicked to her mouth. Her lips were parted slightly, her jaw relaxed.

The smile he so rarely saw from her was a delicate one too, fragile and unsure, but tonight in the hall where they spoke – really spoke – for the first time, and she laughed, he saw what her real smile looked like. The sight of it struck him at the time, like seeing a rare creature he’d only ever heard about. Katara’s genuine smile rose to her startling blue eyes, and crinkled at the corners. His responding smile was automatic, like a physical reaction, and for a moment the world didn’t seem so terrible.

She looked so young when she slept, and Zuko suddenly felt monstrous. So disgusted with himself, with his father for making a bride for him out of this child, Zuko rose from the bed as carefully as he could. He sat, his feet just touching the floor, listening. Katara’s breaths did not change from their relaxed, constant pattern. Zuko stood, creeping away on the pads of his feet.

Being directly North of the palace, it was a short trip to the High Temple. However, Zuko did not have the time or patience to walk as he normally did, uncomfortable leaving Katara alone and vulnerable for so long. So he slipped out of the stables, the guard predictably snoring when he passed, and pulled his hood low as his mongoose lizard hurried through the woods silently. It was a small comfort to know that Azula was, in all likelihood, asleep in her chambers for now, having stopped outside her room to listen for the sound of objects shattering due to a prolonged fit of rage but hearing nothing. There was no smell of smoke either, informing him that she had, in fact, not practiced hurling fireballs at the wall. Again, he wondered what his father had said to her that evening.

The High Temple rose above the trees as he drew closer and Zuko stopped his mount just before they cleared the tree line. Securing the reigns to a nearby tree, Zuko carefully charred the earth beside it and, as he walked away, turned back to see the lizard circle the charred spot before curling up to sleep.

Zuko broke away from the tree line to the East side of the temple, where a small, hidden door lay. Zuko pulled it open, stopped just short of the point at which is always creaked, and slipped inside, closing it gently behind him.

The catacombs, where the Avatar had been kept, could only be entered by way of firebending, which of course could not be achieved silently. The large doors hardly got greased regularly, so Zuko waited for a Fire Sage to pass by with the intention to sneak in behind them. No sage passed however, and after several minutes of complete silence, Zuko stepped out of his hiding spot. Glancing around, he crept along the shadows of the corridors, listening carefully all the while. No sage could be found throughout the temple, and Zuko’s suspicions deepened. He returned to the entrance to the catacombs and looked around one last time before channelling two long streams of fire into the funnel-like openings that operated as a lock.

The boom as the doors opened echoed throughout the chamber, making Zuko flinch and he glanced around again, checking to see if anyone came running. No one did, however, and he hesitantly stepped into the catacombs.

Aang’s cell was just as he left it. The door hung open, and the Avatar was gone. The food Zuko had dropped when Aang had grabbed him through the bars was cleared away. The sages had clearly been down there, Zuko frowned as he crept toward the stone cell. The descent to this chamber was quite extensive, and yet in all that time, Zuko saw no Fire Sages in any of the rooms that opened out onto the staircase. This chamber, however, was built into the mountainside behind the temple itself. At the base of the catacombs, where sacred texts and artifacts were kept, a narrow, winding staircase was carved out of the mountain, and the entire room Zuko stood in was lined with a thick layer of metal. It was unbendable, the ultimate prison. The single window in the room looked out onto the temple and the capital beyond, as if a taunting reminder that the occupant would never look beyond the Fire Nation again.

There was no other sound apart from the whistle of the wind from the single window. The complete absence of any other soul in this place brought a sense of unease that Zuko didn’t quite understand. He left the empty cell, shaking the memory of Aang’s gaunt face from his mind, and headed back down the stairs.

There was a record room tucked away with the relics that were kept down there, and Zuko paused by the door, noting the lit candle on the desk. Someone had been there, very recently. Just then, a shadow moved out of the corner of his eye and Zuko slinked back, just out of view. His heart hammered in his chest as he peering around the corner into the room again.

A single Fire Sage placed an armful of scrolls onto the desk before turning back to the shelves. He unhooked a battered leather satchel from the corner and slipped it over his head. Zuko reared back and scurried around the door to hide between it and the wall as the sage walked out. Zuko watched him adjust the satchel as he turned and headed up the stairs to the temple. For a minute or so, Zuko only listened, waiting for the Sage’s footsteps to fade to silence. Sure he was alone, Zuko slipped out from behind the door and entered the record room. Not sure what he was looking for yet, Zuko flipped through the books laid open on the table, opening a few of the scrolls he saw the Sage bring over, before he turned to the shelves. Nothing leapt out at him to indicate why the Sages were all suddenly just… gone. Unsurprisingly, he also found no trace of any information regarding the Avatar. As if the sages would risk recording his disappearance. Zuko sighed, frustrated. He turned back to the largest of the open books on the desk. The candle was closest to this one. Zuko frowned and looked at it again.

It was a list of names. After a moment Zuko realised that the names were all of Fire Sages from the High Temple. But where had they gone? Zuko followed the line each name was written on to the bottom of the page and found the same thing written under each. Redistributed to Crescent Island. Each name held a different date above it, and Zuko traced his finger from one to the other until. The dates were random, but each sage had been sent to the temple at Crescent Island over the last 4 years. Zuko frowned at the page. Why?

Distracted, Zuko didn’t notice the figure come to stand at the door until a soft thump sounded behind him. Zuko froze, turning his head just enough to see the sage staring in shock out of the corner of his good eye, his satchel on the ground.

“Your highness…” the sage cleared his throat.

Zuko stiffened and turned, lifting his hand. A ball of fire appeared instantly, a warning. The sage jumped and bowed immediately, raising his hands.

“Please! Prince Zuko, there’s no need for that!”

Zuko dismissed the flame and blinked at the sage, waiting. The sage glanced up and saw that Zuko was watching him expectantly and straightened. He adjusted his headpiece and swallowed.

“We have been waiting for you to return, your highness.” The sage’s gaze dipped to the ledger Zuko was looking at and nodded. “You have perhaps been wondering why there has been no word about the Avatar’s disappearance. As you can see, there has been no one to send word for some time now.”

Zuko stared at the sage. The old man stepped into the room, awkwardly approaching the desk to gesture to the ledger. Zuko shuffled out of the way but kept his eyes on the sage.

“After you brought the Avatar to the Fire Nation, and he was imprisoned here, in the temple, most of the sages were loyal only to the Firelord. They had forgotten that the Fire Sages were once loyal to the Avatar, and had forgotten their responsibility to him, and to the balance of the world.” The sage pointed to the list of names. “But a small group of us still believed in the old ways, and we slowly worked to transfer each of the loyalist sages to the Crescent Island Temple, until only the few that were loyal to the Avatar remained.”

“Why?” Zuko couldn’t hold the question in anymore.

The sage smiled, clearly not worried about Zuko declaring him a traitor, confirming Zuko’s suspicion that the sages knew he had something to do with the Avatar’s disappearance.

“We were making arrangements to free him ourselves, but you beat us to it.”

Zuko fell back a step, feeling suddenly nauseous. This was more than releasing a prisoner to assuage his guilt, more than freeing an innocent child and hoping he wouldn’t have to face any consequences. Zuko had set loose a beacon of hope for a world at war. Even the most devout and pious of the Fire Nation saw his momentary lapse in judgement as a sign of justice, a spark for a rebellion. And Zuko, the crowned prince of the Fire Nation, had been the one who struck the match.

“Prince Zuko,” the sage stepped closer, his words coming faster, more insistent, “things are in motion now, the Avatar will bring balance once more, but he will need help to do it.”

“Help?” Zuko’s voice was hoarse.

The sage gave him a sympathetic look but smiled and handed him a Pai Sho tile. Zuko stared at it, momentarily distracted from the droning in his ears at the thought of what this all meant. He frowned at it, turning it over in his hand. There was nothing particularly special about it, no marks, no extra weight hinting at a hidden compartment, just a normal playing tile, yellowed a little with age, a white lotus on the top.

~

Chapter Text

Katara was gone.

Zuko gripped the poster on the bed as his head spun. She had been asleep when he left, he was sure of it. He had only been gone for an hour, maybe two... Panic reared its head and Zuko stumbled back out into the hallway. His feet carried him straight to Azula’s room. He burst into the room and she groaned at the sudden light that poured in. She was in bed, clearly half asleep. Zuko stared at her slightly disheveled hair, disbelief making it hard to think straight. She hadn't taken her.

Azula sat up straight when she saw who stood in her doorway. "Zuko, what on Earth?"

Irritation filled her voice, and Zuko blinked. He was waking her in the middle of the night, she had no idea Katara was not in her room. Zuko thankfully had the good sense not to admit that his wife had disappeared, as he was slowly understanding that Azula was not responsible.

"What the hell are you doing in my room at this hour?" Azula was beginning to look at Zuko with venom in her eyes.

If Katara was not taken by Azula, the most likely explanation is that she woke to find him gone and took the opportunity to escape. There were no signs of a struggle in their room. Zuko turned and left Azula's door ajar. Without another word, he stalked down the hallway once again, ignoring Azula, who called out insults after him. He heard the door close violently behind him and turned back. She had not followed him.

Zuko returned to their chamber, looking for clues. Her shoes were gone, as well as her robe. She had left on her own. There were no guards outside their doors, they hadn’t stood guard for the last week or so, the Firelord deciding that their ‘Water Tribe guests understood their situation well enough’. He must also have decided that Zuko was at least capable of keeping track of his own wife. The irony was not lost on him.

Zuko stopped, trying to think rationally. Where would Katara go with this opportunity? The realisation hit him like a physical blow. She could be trying to get to Yue. Zuko dashed through the halls, cutting around the sections where he knew the guards were stationed by taking servants’ corridors. Silent as the grave, he kept to the shadows.

He came to the entrance of the hall where the door to the Firelord’s chambers lay and he froze when he spotted Katara peaking around the corner. Zuko hung back, she hadn’t noticed him yet. She was watching the guard that passed on his patrol, he guessed, waiting to see him turn and head back down the hall. He wondered for a second what her plan was. Zuko listened for the guards footsteps to fade and watched Katara straighten, ready to step out into the hallway. Zuko moved then, wrapping one hand around Katara’s mouth and the other around her forearm. Katara jerked and raised an ice-covered hand, shards extending from the tips of her nails like claws.

“It’s me.” He grumbled quickly in her ear as he pulled her against him.

His tensed shoulders relaxed a little when she paused and the ice on her hand melted away. She sagged against him for a split second, then tensed again. Zuko slowly removed his hand from her mouth and he spun her to face him. There was anger in her face but it was quickly replaced with fear when she saw the look on his.

“I was just–” Her mouth hung open as she searched for an explanation.

“Nothing.” He glared at her. “You were doing nothing.” He turned and pulled her by the arm he still held, heading back to their room.

“Wait, I wasn’t–”

Zuko gripped her arm tighter, anger bubbling to the surface. “Not here.” He hissed over his shoulder.

Katara closed her mouth and hung her head a little. She trailed after him obediently as he went back the way he came, pausing at each corner to check for guards. It wasn’t long before they slipped back through the door to their chambers and Zuko pushed the door shut as silently as possible. He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief, taking a second to collect his thoughts.

“Are you actually insane?” He said, still facing the door.

Katara shifted behind him, he could hear her feet shuffle on the floor, but said nothing. Zuko pushed off the door and turned to her then. He froze when he saw the blank look on her face. The simmering anger that had brought a slight warmth to his cheeks died a little and he frowned. Katara stared at him, unwavering, as if his intervention was nothing more than an inconvenience. She stood, unmoving, as Zuko collected himself once again.

“What was your plan, exactly?” He asked, the frustration still colouring his voice. “Break into the Firelord’s bed chamber and sneak his wife out of bed without waking him?” His eyebrows rose in question.

Katara’s jaw moved, as if she perhaps hadn’t thought that far.

“How would you have escaped the palace after that anyway? There are guards on every exit, there have been since you arrived.” Zuko took a step towards her, his frustration growing with every second she pinned him with that stubborn gaze. “When, not if, but when you were caught, you have no idea–”

“You weren’t caught.”

Zuko blinked. Katara’s expression hadn’t changed but she stepped a little closer now. Zuko stayed perfectly still, anxiety spiking at her words.

“Where did you go, when you managed to slip out unnoticed?” Katara took another step forward.

Zuko swallowed, but held his ground. He wasn’t about to explain himself to her, and he definitely wasn’t going to give her any ideas. Katara tilted her head, a cold, thoughtful look crossing her face now.

“Not far, I’d think, if you managed to get back before…” She trailed off then, as if realising she was about to admit to a grand escape plan.

“I didn’t slip out anywhere.” Zuko lied calmly, concentrating on keeping his voice from rising and giving him away. “I went for a walk around the palace, I couldn’t sleep.” He forced himself to hold her gaze, though his mouth had gone dry.

Katara’s eyes narrowed, and neither of them moved for several seconds. Her gaze flicked from one of his eyes to the other, and he could have imagined it, but he thought she lingered on his left eye a little, the side with his scar, and he stiffened slightly. Katara seemed to notice and her eyes lowered slightly, as if embarrassed, only to land on his mouth. Zuko suddenly felt they were far too close and found it a little hard to breathe.

It was Katara that stepped back, breaking the strange tension that suddenly filled the room. Zuko let out a breath, his chest feeling tight. A strange look filled Katara’s face and Zuko realised it was despair that gripped her, beneath all the bravado. She touched the blue stone on the necklace she wore every day, despite the blue clashing with the pinks and reds that were fashionable in the Fire Nation. The last physical connection to her people, he guessed.

“I can’t bare it.” She whispered.

Shame pressed down on Zuko’s shoulders at her sudden change. The façade was gone, and he saw a glimpse of the pain that lingered there. Every day, he tried to hide away from the knowledge that his father kept the Northern princess confined to his chambers, and the brief moments he did see her, there was less and less of that confident, brave woman he felt a sliver of admiration for, that day the two had been brought before the Firelord. She had stood her ground then, spoken against his father, and Zuko knew she only relinquished this pride in her Nation, in herself, to protect them against the threat his father maintained over the Moon and Ocean spirits. Zuko still could not convince his father to elaborate on his plan, and the more time passed, the less he could stand being in the same room as the man.

Zuko swore, dragging a hand over his face. He had left Katara tonight, alone. He was responsible for her safety and he was the one who had not been there to stop her from risking, not only her safety, but Yue’s and that of all waterbenders. Didn’t she understand that? He glanced at her again, at the absolute anguish in her face, and couldn't help but feel responsible for it as well. There was nothing he could say to her, nothing he could offer her, to comfort her. He couldn’t possibly understand how she felt, but he could guess.

The Fire Nation had caused her so much pain already, and now she was trapped in it, in the heart of the capital. The Nation that he had always considered his home had caused the world so much pain. Zuko felt for the Pai Sho tile in his pocket, fidgeting with it as he considered its significance.

“There is no escaping, not with the hold the Fire Nation has on the Water Tribe, is there?” Katara’s voice was a whisper.

Zuko gripped the tile when her voice wavered. He watched her, too scared that if he moved, she would flinch. She had crossed her arms, fingers digging into her sides. The soft, gentle mouth he had been so captivated by only hours ago was stretched thin over her clenched teeth. Her eyes were squeezed shut, as if she were determined not to cry. A sob escaped her and Zuko moved without thinking.

Katara gasped as Zuko unexpectedly took hold of her hand and drew it to his chest. Caught off balance, Katara stumbled a step closer and Zuko steadied her with his other hand behind her back. Their faces were only inches apart, and Zuko saw a single tear escape and roll down her cheek.

“You will not be a prisoner here forever.” Zuko was surprised by his own words but went on before he could think better of it. “I promise, I’ll find a way to get you out of here.”

Zuko’s hand tightened on her arm and another tear slipped down her face. Her blue eyes were wide, the moonlight that shone through the windows reflected on the tears that had not yet fallen. The shock of his sudden closeness began to wear off however and she blinked, her hand curling into a fist on his chest but she didn’t pull away.

“It’s not me,” she said slowly, glancing down at where her hand lay between them, “that I’m worried about.” She looked back up at him, a more gentle look in those startling eyes. “I know you won’t hurt me. But I can’t stand by and do nothing while Yue–”

Katara’s voice broke, and Zuko slowly released her. He suddenly felt cold when she retreated a step and she pulled her hand back. He was in dangerous waters now, he couldn’t remember what he had meant to say before he had dragged her back there. The events of the night still swam in his mind, and Zuko rubbed his tired eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She said suddenly.

Zuko looked up, not bothering to hide his confusion. Katara took a deep breath and folded her hands elegantly in front of her. She lowered her head a little.

“I was reckless, I didn’t think. It was a mistake to go wondering the palace like that, if you weren’t there…” She swallowed.

Zuko sighed, exhaustion weighing him down now. “I know you’re scared. But I want you to trust that I’ll do what I can to protect you. I’ll try to find out what I can about Yue.” He added when she met his gaze with a pained look.

Katara just lowered her eyes again, resigned. “What about my people?” She asked quietly.

“Your people?” Zuko asked, frowning now. “The Southern Water Tribe?”

“Yes.” Katara breathed. “You were given responsibility for it.” There was a flash of anger at the words.

“Y- yes.” Zuko blinked.

He didn’t know if someone had told her or if it was just a very astute guess, but she was right. His father had handed control of the Southern Water Tribe to him, illustrated by his marriage to Katara. The Firelord had considered it a joke perhaps, or just part of a symbolic display of the Fire Nation’s symmetrical control over the Water Tribe.

“You have power over the soldiers that continue to raid my village…” She looked up at him again. “We have nothing of value to the Fire Nation.”

Zuko nodded, understanding finally dawning on him. “It would be a waste of Fire Nation resources to continue to send ships so far South.” He offered her a tiny, conspiratorial smile.

“You want to weaken the fleet by sending ships on a reconnaissance mission to New Ozai?”

The Firelord raised a single eyebrow at Zuko, skirting around the huge map in the war room.

“Not at all.” Zuko said, casually glancing at model ships posed beside the South Pole on the map. “We have ships much closer to the Southern part of the Earth Kingdom anyway.”

Zuko picked up one of the ships from beside the snowy white continent. He held it up for his father, smirking a little. “Hardly necessary to control a single fishing village.”

He placed the ship in the narrow gap between the Southern chain of islands belonging to the Earth Kingdom and the Patola Mountain Range. Zuko then took another of the two ships that previously straddled the Northern-most section of the South Pole, leaving it bare, and placed it directly North of the first ship, indicating the path he suggested they take. Cutting through the island chain held minimal risk, the Earth Kingdom forces were busy defending their boarders from the much closer, persistent presence of the Fire Nation’s main militia.

“The few ships stationed at the South Pole have remained as a reminder to the Water Tribe of our hold on their people.” Ozai explained in a mildly irritated tone.

Zuko expected this. “But the South had no waterbenders. They haven't for years, the threat meant nothing to them. That we have made a Fire Nation princess out of their chief is reminder enough that our reach is unlimited.”

Ozai paused, considering this. Zuko maintained as disinterested an expression as he could, glancing to the map and taking a few steps around it as if to get a better look. He chanced a look at his father. The Firelord crossed his arms, resting an elbow on his wrist as he considered the map again.

“You’re certain there was word of unrest in New Ozai?”

Zuko remembered to breathe then. “Yes,” he pulled a folded piece of parchment from his robes, “I have been writing to the governor, we have kept in touch these last few years.”

He hadn’t been writing to the governor. In fact, Zuko knew that if Hide knew Mai had been receiving letters from, let alone writing letters to, Zuko, he would have burned them immediately. But Zuko knew his father would take the information more seriously if it had come from the new governor, rather than his ex-girlfriend.

From the tone of her letters over the years, Zuko knew that Mai still cared for him, in her way, but their relationship had suffered in his negligence since his return four years ago. Her father becoming the governor of the overtaken Earth Kingdom city once known as Omashu, since named New Ozai, had been an additional difficulty. It wasn’t long before they grew apart, but Zuko often wondered if his irritable countenance after his time in banishment had actually done her a favour. Mai would have felt as trapped here as she did with her own family. At least married now, she had more freedom to be herself. She said as much in her letters, along with casual mention of a particularly persistent band of insurgents that caused minor damage to their house every now and then, causing trouble with the trade routes and essentially continuing to be a nuisance to their limited Fire Nation soldiers stationed to protect them and maintain control of the city. Conveniently, Mai's most recent letter had arrived only a week ago with this update. It was hardly an uprising in the making, in Zuko's opinion, but it was enough to suggest one.

“Perhaps you are right, Prince Zuko.” His father finally said, tilting his head slightly to look at the map. “Our hold on New Ozai is too valuable to relinquish if this unrest progresses to an all-out rebellion.”

Zuko watched as Ozai nodded at his placement and walked away from the map. He glanced once more at the cove where a tiny marker identified Katara’s small village. Safe, he thought, at least for now.

Chapter Text

The steam from the bath filled the room with the smell of roses as it curled off the surface of the water. Katara breathed deeply, keeping her concentration on the tinkling ice shards that floated around her head. It had taken some practice, but the close call from the night before had emboldened her to try to improve her control. Closing her eyes helped with her focus, but wasn’t a realistic tactic in combat. Still, Katara slowly glanced around at the transparent daggers that orbited her head at their constant speed.

A knock sounded at the door and Katara forced her breathing to remain the same. The shards didn’t even falter, maintaining their steady rotations.

“My lady, is everything alright in there?” The servant called out.

Normally, the water would have been tepid by now for how long she had remained there, but Katara had carefully kept the temperature consistently hot, all the while transforming puffs of steam into glass-like slivers, and all without raising a hand. Carefully, Katara brought the ice back to the tub, her spinning halo of crystals fracturing and slowly disappearing into the bathwater. With a sharp exhale onto the surface, the rose petals wobbled away from her on the ripples she made as the water dropped to a chilly temperature.

“Yes.” Katara called out evenly. “I’m ready to get out.”

Her hair was still a little damp as Katara made her way down the hall. The sun was slowly setting, its light filtering in through the windows and shining directly into her eyes as she passed. Squinting, Katara didn’t notice that Azula stood in her path until she almost bumped into her. The princess grinned like a wolf and Katara froze, eyes locked on Azula.

“Hello there.” Azula said in a purr.

Katara dipped her head in a minimal bow and tried to pass again. Azula’s manicured hand caught her shoulder in a flash.

“Going so soon? A shame, you seemed to be in such a mood to chat yesterday.” Azula’s voice held a bite to it.

Katara swallowed. Careful, she glanced around to find no guards in sight, because of course there weren’t. She offered Azula a tight smile but did not meet her eyes.

“I never quite understood why the Firelord insisted on sullying our house with peasant blood, even his choice in bride was a surprise. I always thought all Water Tribe smelled of fish.”

Katara glanced up to see a sneer on Azula’s face. She was toying with her, Katara breathed in slowly, determined not to let the girl’s words get under her skin. She straightened and looked squarely at Azula.

“Well,” Katara said, “perhaps the Firelord’s political strategies are a little beyond you. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it someday.”

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say, but in that moment, Katara felt a surge of triumph as Azula’s eyes widened and colour filled her face. The anger faltered for a moment though and an idea seemed to form behind her eyes. Azula smiled once more.

“You’re no fun.” She said with a pout. “Maybe Yue will provide a more stimulating conversation.”

Azula grinned and Katara realised she let her anger show on her face. It was too late to hide it now, and Azula knew that Yue’s current mental state was on the razor’s edge. Azula leaned closer, her breath brushing against Katara’s ear.

“The Firelord doesn’t care if I damage his new toy, just as long as no one else can see the cracks.”

Blind with rage, Katara didn’t even realise she had raised her hand until Azula had her pinned against the wall, one hand on her arm, the other wrapped around her throat. Katara gasped just as Azula tightened her grip. There was a feral grin on her face. She had been baiting her, and Katara knew it, but she still fell for it. Her own temper always was her worst enemy, but she could think of one thing she hated more in this moment, and it was standing right in front of her with a too-wide smile.

Azula licked her lips as Katara struggled, fury had casting a red fog over her brain. The Fire Nation princess laughed, a girly, high-pitched sound, grating on Katara’s nerves. She fixed her increasingly blurring gaze on Azula and clamped her other hand around Azula’s wrist. Katara’s hatred for the Fire Nation always made things simple, it focused her emotions on a single target, as it did now, and a smile found its way to Katara’s face as Azula’s flickered with confusion, then pain.

Azula screamed as she yanked her hand away, cradling it to her chest. Katara gasped for breath, coughing as her bruised throat struggled to let air in. She only spared Azula’s contorted face a quick glance before she pushed away from the wall and ran as fast as she could back to Zuko’s chambers.

Katara slammed the doors behind her and pushed the closest heavy object she could find in front of it, a desk. She leaned against it for good measure, which proved to be a good idea as the doors jerked inward, Azula throwing her weight against the other side.

“You witch!” Azula screamed from outside. “I knew you were trouble. I’ll kill you, I will kill you!”

Katara grit her teeth and pushed the desk as hard as she could, keeping the door closed. Someone would come, someone would have heard by now.

“You think the door will stop me?”

The banging ceased for a moment and Katara’s arms shook as she stared at the doors. A rumble sounded beyond them and a blue light appeared, shining through the gaps. Katara gasped and backed away from the desk. Azula meant to burn down the building just to get to her. Panic rose into Katara’s throat as she retreated into the corner. Her eyes caught on the grate beneath the basin to her left. There was her escape, right there. Still, she hesitated. Could she really abandon Yue?

The doors did not implode, or burn down, in fact there was no sound from the other side for several seconds and Katara looked back to the desk haphazardly barricading the doors again. The blue glow was gone and Azula’s voice had fallen silent.

~

Zuko gripped his sister’s wrists in one hand, lifted upward and away from the door. He stood between her and his wife, who had obviously barred the door with something. Smart girl. The fire at Azula’s fingertips died as she turned that murderous stare on her brother.

“Back off Azula.” Zuko growled.

That unrestrained, psychotic shine in his sister’s eyes sent a shudder down Zuko’s spine. He didn’t let it show on his face though. She was truly losing control now, attacking Katara in broad daylight? Azula made no move to wrench her hands free, just smiled at him in that creepy, unhinged way. It scared him. She scared him.

“Dad’s going to kill her.” She lilted in a sing-song voice, her head swinging to the side so that she was peering up at him with a sidelong glance. “Really, or maybe he’ll let me do it myself.”

Zuko shoved her back, a sick feeling settling in his stomach. Azula only cackled but she skulked off, one hand wrapped around her forearm as if it were injured. Zuko hadn’t noticed but she turned away then and Zuko did not take his eyes off her until she was out of sight.

“Katara?” Zuko pressed a hand to the door. “It’s me. She’s gone.”

For a moment there was no sound, then Zuko heard a scraping sound and knew she had pushed the desk in front of the doors – a smart choice. A ridiculous sense of pride filled his chest for a moment but he squashed it when he saw her face. Tears shone on her cheeks and her hair was dishevelled, her robe slightly askew. She took a shuddering breath as her eyes jumped around the corridor behind him, searching for Azula.

Zuko rushed forward and gripped her shoulders. He peered in her face, searching for any injury. Katara pulled away, her wide eyes on him now, and Zuko realised what he was doing. Another wave of nausea rocked him as he stepped away, eyes still on Katara.

“What happened?” He asked her, feeling awkward in his own room all of a sudden.

Katara wrapped her arms around herself and her face seemed to cave in. “I didn’t mean to–” she took a shuddering breath, “I lost control for a second… she knew what to say…”

Zuko’s stomach dropped entirely, he knew his sister had a frighteningly skilled way of using a person's own weaknesses against them. Whatever she had said to Katara, her reaction set her off. He didn’t know what had happened after that, but Katara had clearly put up a fight. Azula wasn’t easily bested, which once again filled Zuko with a little satisfaction, but it was quickly replaced with dread in the next second.

“Katara.” He breathed and she looked up at him, her eyes still wide. “Did you–”

“Your highness,” a voice filled the hallway behind them and Zuko turned to see the guard that stood there. He clearly had hurried straight to them, for he was still a little out of breath. “The Firelord demanded your presence.”

Zuko stiffened, reaching for Katara again but this time she let him, even now falling into habit of performance learned over the last few weeks. He could still feel her reluctance in her stiffness to follow, though.

“Sorry Prince Zuko,” the guard held up a hand to Katara, “he insisted that you come alone.”

That dread returned and Zuko cast a terrified look at Katara, who mirrored it. He gripped her hand, even though he knew she would hate it, and leaned in close.

“Nothing will happen to you, just stay here. This will be over soon.” He squeezed her hand one last time and walked out into the hallway.

Zuko closed the door behind him, avoiding Katara’s gaze and instead looking at the guard who still watched him.

“Do not leave this door unguarded,” he ordered. “Do not let anyone in until I return.”

The guard shifted his weight, as if uncertain, but nodded, moving to stand in front of the doors. Zuko nodded, more to himself than anything, and made his way to the throne room.

Zuko had expected to find Azula smirking at him from the corner of the room as he stepped into the dimly lit chamber. She was nowhere in site, however. Somehow this made Zuko even more uneasy, not sure what to expect. The flames that sat between him and the Firelord flared briefly when Zuko walked in but other than that there was no indication from his father about his mood. Zuko swallowed, careful to keep his gait confident and his face clear of any emotion.

He stopped and kneeled in front of the Firelord. “You called for me, father?”

“Prince Zuko,” the restrained anger in Ozai’s voice confirmed Zuko’s fears, “there seems to be something to be settled between your new wife and your sister.”

“Father, I don’t know what Azula told you–”

“SILENCE.” Ozai bellowed and Zuko shuddered at his sudden rage. “That Water Tribe welp was meant to be your responsibility. You couldn’t even control her.”

Zuko balked as the flames before him flickered outwards for a second. He looked up as the fire parted in the middle and Ozai stepped down from the platform. Zuko bowed his head, desperate not to aggravate the Firelord further.

He had been here before, bowing before his father and begging for mercy. Zuko flinched at the memory, reminded in that moment how much the grovelling did nothing to save him, but he stayed down on the ground as Ozai drew closer. He couldn’t even find the will to raise his head and look his father in the eyes. Coward, a voice in the back of his mind hissed.

“Luckily for you, this is a family matter, and it will be dealt with within our own walls.” Ozai grumbled, as if he would prefer Katara was dragged out into the streets and her punishment made public, for the whole Fire Nation to see.

“You’re not going to kill her?” Zuko said when he finally found his voice.

The Firelord hummed, as if the idea had merit. “No. But there is a lesson that needs to be learned.”

Ozai stepped closer to Zuko, who looked up then, finally swallowing the fear that always remained, in the far reaches of his mind, for the last six years. His father offered him a smile eerily similar to Azula’s that made Zuko shrink back.

“And I’ve told you before, Zuko, there is no greater teacher than suffering.”

Chapter Text

Zuko stumbled through the halls as if he had seen a ghost. No, as if he were the ghost. Servants greeted him as he passed but they may as well have walked through him, he wouldn’t have noticed. The night had fallen, and out the window on his left, Zuko would have seen the distant smattering of lanterns in the city if he had looked. But Zuko saw nothing, not the servants scurrying around him, not the city just beyond the palace walls, only the path before him growing shorter and shorter with every step he took from the throne room. All the while, his father’s words replayed in his mind, his final command of Zuko echoing in his ears.

He had stopped walking, but it took him a second to realise why. Zuko frowned as his sluggish mind processed the sight of his uncle’s face. Iroh’s hands gripped his shoulders, he was saying something to him but Zuko just blinked.

“Uncle?” Zuko mumbled.

“Zuko.” Iroh shook him gently, concern written all over his face. “What happened in there?”

“It has to be done.”

Zuko said the words slowly, as if repeating them might make them true. As if hearing them again might make them any less horrifying.

“What has to be done, nephew? What did the Firelord say?” Iroh’s grip tightened, and Zuko sensed urgency in his voice.

Zuko looked down at his hands, trying to imagine them accomplishing the task he had been given. If he could feel anything in this moment, maybe it would have been grief, but he couldn’t feel anything. His father’s cruel laugh floated to the surface of his mind and Zuko flinched away from the memory of pain. Iroh caught the movement and Zuko blinked up at him again when he felt his uncle’s hand on his face.

“What is he making you do?” Iroh’s face had paled, understanding beginning to dawn on it.

It’s fitting, really, his father had said, that my son have to learn respect through the same means his wife will.

Zuko took a shuddering breath. “I have to burn her.” His voice broke when he said it.

Iroh froze, horror making his eyes widen. “No.” He whispered.

“I have to,” Zuko said again, “or he will.” His vision blurred and he blinked back panicked tears that threatened to fall.

“Zuko.” Iroh grabbed at Zuko as he stepped past his uncle.

He had to. He couldn’t let him lay a hand on Katara, even if it meant scarring her. Like him. He wouldn’t let his father near her. He would draw it out, she would suffer more than she had to, just because he could. Zuko continued down the hall, ignoring his uncle calling after him.

The guard moved aside when Zuko approached his bed chamber and opened the door for him. Zuko stepped inside, eyes on the ground in front of him. The door shut behind him. Katara stepped out from the corner she was sitting in, looking out of the window. She froze when she saw his face. Zuko couldn’t meet her eyes.

“What happened?” She asked in a small voice.

“A decision has been made.”

Katara said nothing, waiting. Zuko looked at her then, trying his hardest to steel himself.

“There has to be a punishment for disrespecting a member of the royal family.” He parroted the words his father had declared to him. “And if I don’t carry that out. The Firelord will do it himself.”

Katara took a step back then. Fear, Zuko saw it bloom on her face. She should be scared. She should run, fight him, escape now. He wouldn’t stop her, not anymore. Zuko lifted a hand, Katara froze and he brushed a stray hair out of her face. She was beautiful. He had tried so hard not to notice. It made it that much harder. And if he didn’t scar her, the Firelord would double her suffering, just for the added bonus to teaching Zuko the lesson he should have learned all those years ago.

She didn’t run. There was fear on her face, but she set her jaw and locked eyes with Zuko. Whatever she thought the punishment was, she still believed he wouldn’t hurt her. It tore Zuko’s heart in two. He sucked in a breath, his chest felt like it was being crushed. Katara’s ocean eyes shone as they bore into his.

“I–” Zuko’s voice cracked again. “I can’t.”

A frown appeared on Katara’s face, confusion alighting there. But before she could voice her question the explosions began.

~

Chapter Text

Zuko and Katara rushed to the window in time to see a fire ball flying right towards the palace.

“Get down!” Zuko pulled them away from the window and dropped to the floor in a crouch.

The impact shook the entire building and Zuko grit his teeth. A hissing sound came from above and Zuko looked up to see a layer of dust and pieces of the ceiling tumble down slowly in the aftershock. Glancing over his shoulder to the window again, Zuko blinked in surprise. He could have sworn it was not anther fireball, but a boulder that flew past this time as another boom sounded and more debris rained down on them.

Zuko turned back to Katara, only to realise he had wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. She seemed to notice this at the same time because she quickly blinked at him in surprise before untangling herself. Zuko helped her to her feet but reclaimed his grip on her arm when a loud, much closer thudding sounded at the door.

“Your highness! The palace is under attack, The Firelord is calling an emergency war meeting!” Zuko’s grip only tightened on Katara, who stiffened as well at the guard’s words.

Once his message had been delivered though, it seemed the guard had retreated, his hurried footsteps fading quickly. Zuko knew that in the event of an attack, all the guards would go straight to their defensive posts. The shouts and flashes of fire from outside told him that the attack was focused on the North side of the palace.

Zuko looked back at Katara then, feeling her step backward and out of his grip. She wasn’t looking at him, her gaze focused on nothing at all, lost in thought. There was a growing realisation on her face, the shock of the sudden attack fading and he knew she saw not a danger, but an opportunity.

“Katara…” Zuko grimaced as another boom shuddered through the palace and reached for her again, squeezing his eyes shut as more dust fell from the ceiling. He found her hands and stepped in close as the floor shook beneath them.

The shaking stopped and Zuko opened his eyes, Katara was also blinking away the dust. She met his eyes and Zuko saw the resolve take hold in them. Regret stabbed at him, but also a loathing for the part of himself that wanted to tell her no, to force her to stay in this room. But she wouldn’t get another opportunity like this again.

Zuko looked down at her slender hands clasped in his. He shook his head, denying the selfish part of himself that would beg her to stay. She allowed the touch, he would only realise later, rather than drawing away, and if he had the strength to look up in that moment he would have seen his regret mirrored in her eyes.

Another explosion sounded and Zuko released her hands, turning away before he could even process the sudden desire to abandon it all, his family, his crown, his nation… just to make sure she would be safe. If he said another word, he would never be able to leave, not even goodbye. He turned on his heel and pulled the door open once more. He stepped out into the hallway and tried to reel in his racing thoughts as he made his way back to his father.

~

Katara cursed at herself for the bubble of fear that lodged itself in her throat when Zuko pulled away. She couldn’t understand why she reached out for him in that last moment as he turned to the door. She didn’t know what was happening, or why he seemed so sad but the persistent, uncomfortable feeling in her chest that began when he walked into the room felt amplified the moment he left again.

It took Katara several seconds to realise that the door was still open. The hall was empty, no guards in sight. There was no Azula either, and Katara peaked her head out to listen for approaching footfalls. None came. Shouts and more explosions continued just beyond the walls and Katara broke into a run before she could think better of her unbelievably reckless plan.

The doors to the Firelord’s bedchamber were almost twice the size of Zuko’s and Katara strained against them but eventually shoved the left one open. It was dark inside and she had to blink a repeatedly as her eyes adjusted. A shadow stirred in the corner and Yue’s hollow face came into view. Katara flinched at how much worse she looked after just one day and rushed towards the other princess.

“We’re getting out of here.” She gripped Yue’s bone-thin wrists.

Yue blinked at her for a moment, dazed, but seemed to recognise the insistence in Katara’s voice and let the younger girl pull her away from the shadows. Katara rushed them over to an identical grate in the floor, pushing the stand with a half-filled basin on it over, not worried about being overheard, only about getting them both out of there as quickly as she could. She knelt before the grate, ignoring the spilled water pooling beside them, and curled her fingers around the metal bars.

Azula’s face floated into focus in her mind and Katara let the pure hatred wash over her. Azula was joined by the Firelord, and Katara felt the metal groan beneath her grip. She opened her eyes and saw the snow-white colour the metal had become, she released her grip. Yue gasped and stared at Katara.

“You’re a waterbender?”

Katara ignored her shocked expression for the moment, there was not enough time to explain everything. She dashed to the shelf that stood to the right of her and heaved a solid-metal bust of an old Firelord’s head, probably, off its perch.

“Not now.” She said as she walked back over to the grate and raised the bust above her head.

Without another word, Katara threw the bust downwards with all her strength. The frozen grate shattered under the sudden force and the distant splash filled Katara with relief. There was a drain below, and the now open hole in the floor was wide enough for them to drop down. She only prayed that the water was deep enough for them to survive the fall.

“Come on.” Katara grabbed Yue’s hand and helped her down before lowering her legs into the hole and throwing herself into darkness.

The water was not deep, but that didn’t matter, the bottom of the drain was almost directly below the floor of the room above. The drain itself was deep enough that the two of them could stand straight and only just brush the ceiling of it. Yue stood in the blackness, the chattering of her teeth echoed against the stone walls. Katara righted herself, having twisted her ankle slightly on the way down. She hadn’t expected to hit the ground so instantly.

“It’s alright.” She reached out toward the sound of Yue’s short breaths nearby.

Katara felt her arm and felt down to her right hand again, closing her grip over it once more. She pulled Yue along, following the flow of the water and secretly hoping they would see light soon. She was not particularly fond of the dark.

It was a minute, perhaps, before a faint glow allowed them to see a turn in the drain, and as they rounded it, Katara breathed a sigh of relief when it opened up to a shallow creek. They waded out of the chilly water and Katara spun, trying to get her bearings.

Behind them, the walls of the palace loomed, and she could make out flashes of fire as the battle raged on. Who was brave, or perhaps crazy enough to attack the palace itself, Katara did not know, but she silently thanked them for the disturbance, it was the distraction she needed to get to Yue.

Turning back to the other girl though, Katara froze. Behind Yue, a shadow moved and the figure stalking them stepped out into the faint light. Azula.

~

Chapter Text

Servants were ushered out, urged to the Southern-most part of the palace, away from the conflict. Zuko could see the potential outcomes of the attack like parts of a play he’d seen a thousand times before. Schooled in battle strategies since he learned to write, Zuko knew that the palace would not hold long under siege. The enemy had made it past the natural walls that lined the crater the capital city lay within, and the inner wall that surrounded the palace as well. Zuko knew one thing with absolute certainty. Whoever this was, they hadn’t managed to pass through Fire Nation boarders without detection. They were already here.

Zuko grit his teeth as a disoriented maid tripped in her haste to follow the others through a side corridor and smacked into his shoulder. She stumbled, spluttering a desperate apology but Zuko straightened her with both hands and stepped past her, ignoring her wide eyes. Another person stepped out from behind the corner further down the hall and Zuko slowed a little to be able to hurry around him. Zuko blinked as he realised it was his uncle, again. Iroh was running, right at him.

“Uncle?” Zuko frowned in confusion as Iroh gripped his shoulders, again. “What’s going on? Who is attacking us?”

“Zuko.” Iroh’s breath came quickly, rushed. “Listen to me. I wish I could explain what is happening right now but there is no time!”

Iroh pulled Zuko toward a window, avoiding another group of servants followed by two guards, leading them around to the same corridor heading South. Zuko glanced around, knowing he was running out of time to get to the war room. He was already on thin ice with the Firelord’s temper. His thoughts turned to Katara and a little of the panic he felt faded with the knowledge that she was likely half-way to the city walls now. He silently begged whatever spirits might hear that she would find a way out.

“Zuko.” Iroh’s anxious voice brought Zuko back to the present. “I know you went to the catacombs.”

The hair on the back of Zuko’s neck stood straight. The blood rushed in his ears and he had to swallow several times, his eyes locked on his uncle before he could respond.

“I don’t–”

“Stop.” Iroh waved a hand at Zuko’s instinct to deny it. “I know you were there, that you spoke to the Fire Sage, he gave you something. Show me.”

Zuko stared at Iroh, his palms suddenly sweaty. He reached into his robes and felt for the Pai Sho tile. Fumbling, Zuko pulled it out. Iroh seized Zuko’s hand, glancing at the tile and Zuko saw a flicker of relief on his uncle’s face, while confusion must have been blatant on his own.

“You remember what I said about Pai Sho, nephew?” Iroh smiled at him now, but led Zuko’s hand back to his chest, where Zuko slipped the tile back into the hidden pocket. “Sometimes the game requires a more aggressive approach.”

Zuko blinked at Iroh again, utterly confounded. Iroh shook his head once and gripped the back of Zuko’s head. Iroh looked up at Zuko with a frantic, determined expression, his eyes pinning him with a question Zuko couldn’t make out.

“The harbour, nephew. Before the fighting stops.”

Zuko opened his mouth to ask what his uncle was talking about when another explosion shook the building and Iroh released him. Zuko whirled as Iroh hurried past, following the servants through the narrow corridor.

“Uncle!”

Zuko made to follow him but paused. There was a strange intensity in the air that caught his attention. While there were no rain clouds in the sky, the stars clear and bright outside, Zuko smelled the sharp, almost-acidic tang of an oncoming lightning storm. He stiffened as the sensation intensified briefly with each boom that sounded through the palace, like a pulse of some malevolent creature.

A cold sweat clung to Zuko as he drew closer to the council of generals and captains that waited behind the war room doors and the restless tension that pressed against his very skin increased with each step. He pushed the doors open to a cacophony of voices all in disagreement about the attack. Zhou was the loudest one.

“It’s obviously an attack from the Water Tribe! We must destroy the Moon spirit an end this now!” The furious lines of Zhao’s aging face was clear against the other troubled expressions on the Firelord’s right.

“Water Tribe? We have been set upon by firebenders! This is nothing but insurrection!” A general from the left called back, identical fury coloured his round face.

“My soldiers reported the attackers were earthbenders, not firebenders!” Another voice called out.

“Enough.”

The Firelord’s voice was level, calm, but silence fell instantly. Zuko still stood at the entrance, his father turned his frustrated gaze on him and Zuko waited, keeping his gaze steady. Though there was no sign of anger in his eyes or his voice, Zuko knew that beneath the surface, a violent wrath burned.

“This is not an attack, or an invasion, from any nation. This was carefully planned by someone with intimate knowledge of the palace, the Fire Nation, and our strategies to end this war.”

Zuko held his breath as Ozai’s gaze rested on him as he said all of this. It finally moved, glancing at the men gathered around the map before them.

“General Iroh has turned against us, a traitor to the nation. This attack was carefully planned to distract our forces in order to steal the Moon and Ocean spirits. His betrayal is a deep cut to the heart of the Fire Nation. But he will not be successful.”

Zuko couldn’t breathe. Iroh… He had just spoken with him. A traitor. Like you, a voice whispered in Zuko's mind.

“The spirits have been secured, only two people know the location they have been moved to.” Ozai glanced at General Zhao.

Zhao blinked but understanding seemed to form on his face, as if the words the Firelord spoke held another meaning for him. Zuko swallowed, his head spun but he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to take steady breaths. One. Two…

“This conspiracy has been at work under our noses for longer than this however.” Ozai’s voice held a flicker of that rage.

Zuko’s breath caught once more when he looked up and saw a figure dragged into the light from somewhere behind Ozai. A red hood was pulled back to reveal the Fire Sage that he spoke with in the catacombs. The sage’s eyes were wide, panicked. He gaped as he took in all the shocked faces that stared at him now. His eyes fell on Zuko and somehow widened further.

“The High Temple has been compromised.” Ozai boomed, no longer hiding his anger. “The Avatar has been released and the traitor responsible managed to keep the information from us for weeks now.”

He had to keep standing. If Zuko let his shaking legs fail beneath him, they would know he was guilty. He would not leave that room alive. Everyone in the room gasped, voices rose once more, disbelief prevalent amongst them all. The sage still looked at Zuko, a pained look on his face, but there was no pleading in his eyes. Zuko could only continue to stare as the Firelord stood from his place at the head of the map table.

“This has been a decided strike against the Fire Nation, an act of treason by the hands of a zealot. We will not stand for it.” Ozai’s voice filled the room as he turned, glancing at every member of his council. “The Fire Nation will show no mercy against this heinous crime.”

He turned on the Fire Sage, glowering. Only Zuko recognised the seemingly blank expression that flashed across the Firelord’s face a moment before he raised his hand, but only because he had seen it before. It wasn’t regret, or a solemn determination to believe that his actions, while savage in nature, were for the greater good. It was simply a glimpse at what lay beneath the mask of control he wore every day. Nothing, no remorse, or love, or desire to build rather than destroy. There was nothing beneath the mask, only that bottomless ocean of pure, unrestrained destruction.

Zuko felt his heart surge in his chest when the flames sprung from beneath the sage’s feet. The raw scream that left the Fire Sage’s mouth made everyone in the war room fall silent, save for another collective gasp. In the next second the sage was engulfed in flames and the screaming stopped. Nothing was left of the sage after only a few seconds but a smouldering pile of bones and rags, coated with ash that floated down as gently as snow.

Zuko’s vision swam, but he clenched his teeth so hard he was sure he heard a crack in his jaw. It was a moment before the smell of burning flesh reached him, filling the room, which quickly became suffocating. Others swayed, shocked from the display of ruthless justice.

“Go!” Ozai bellowed then, sending a wave of alarm through the stunned council. “Find them! Bring the traitor to me and kill anyone who gets in your way!”

In the scramble that ensued, Ozai turned away from the charred remains of the Fire Sage in disgust. Zuko drew back to the corner of the room, still struggling to process the events of the last hour. Generals barked orders as they all swarmed past him, flowing out of the doors. Zuko sucked in a breath and flattened himself against the wall. Soon the room was empty, save for Zuko, the Firelord and the corpse that was once the sage. Zuko didn’t even know his name, and he had died protecting him. No, Zuko realised, not protecting him …

Ozai ignored Zuko, but Zuko knew he was aware of his lingering presence. With a shudder, Zuko stepped into the dim light that flickered when the Firelord caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. The intense energy that still prickled against Zuko’s skin flared for a moment. He paused, hesitating to approach any further.

“You won’t kill the Moon spirit?” Zuko’s voice was hoarse, but to his relief, did not falter.

“I didn’t say that.” Ozai said it calmly, thoughtfully, as if he were simply discussing the outcome of a game.

That’s what this was to him, Zuko realised, the rage was a performance, a means to an end. Nausea twisted in Zuko’s stomach.

“The princesses will not stand by if you do this.” Zuko murmured after a beat.

“Perhaps. But then, their usefulness will be at an end. Their cooperation was a condition to protect their precious spirits. They won't be necessary once there are no more waterbenders. You won’t have to worry about being bound to a Water Tribe peasant any longer.” He uttered the words so casually, making Zuko flinch.

Ozai stalked around the table, eying him then. Fascination settled in his expression when he saw Zuko's shock. His eyes narrowed, a smile forming, as if the whole situation amused him.

“Interesting, the Firelord said, that cold, calculating gaze locked on Zuko. “I thought you would be glad to be rid of her. You were never that enthusiastic about the marriage.”

Zuko's spine stiffened, his skin crawling.

“I didn’t think it was open for discussion.” Zuko tried and failed to keep the growl out of his voice.

Ozai stopped, a look of recognition lighting up his eyes as he tilted his head slowly. “Ah… There he is.” A predatory grin spread over his face and Zuko clenched his jaw. “These past months you’ve been hiding that fire, that defiance of yours. Here I was, thinking you finally understood the truth of our place in this world, that you’d accepted it. But you haven't, have you? You’re a traitor like your uncle.”

“No.” Zuko straightened, the restraints on his growing anger slipping. “You’re the traitor. To your people. To your family. You banished me, your son. You burned me and threw me out like trash. I thought that I was the one who had to regain my honour, but it was you who acted dishonourably. This scheme with the Water Tribe, collecting the princesses like trophies… It was wrong. What the Fire Nation is doing to the world is wrong.”

The Firelord’s head cocked to the side, like a cat considering its prey. A tiny part of Zuko flinched at the sight, his body remembering the power his father wielded, but that part was overpowered by the rage that simmered beneath his own skin now.

“What is it about her that you feel so determined to defend her?” Ozai began circling closer once more. “A girl with no family, no power or any place in this world, she is nothing to you. So why? Is it because your wife,” his father took a step closer, the flames burning in the sconces on the wall jumped higher, “is a waterbender?”

The breath went out of Zuko. He knew. Of course he knew. He mind surged back to earlier, Azula seething, ready to bring down the whole palace just to get at Katara. The only way Katara could have survived Azula in the first place... was by using her bending. Zuko should have realised sooner, should have helped her escape. He should never have let this arrangement happen in the first place.

“You have known since the beginning, haven’t you?” Ozai chuckled. “No matter, with her dead, there will be no more distractions. Perhaps you will come to your senses and remember your place here.”

Zuko felt his chest constrict. His visioned blurred around the edge and the outline of his father swayed a little before him. He fell back a step, trying to regain his balance.

“Mm.” His father clicked his tongue. “Perhaps not. You’re weak like your uncle. I won’t let the fate of the Fire Nation fall into the hands of a simpering coward.”

Zuko felt the crackle in the air before he saw the blue flash of light his father summoned. The heat from the lightning reached him later, but Zuko reacted instinctively to the jarring force that struck his chest in the next moment. Finding his balance, Zuko’s hands flew into the practiced movement Iroh had been teaching him for months now, channelling the energy from the impact point to his stomach, careful not to cross his heart.

The lightning burned in his gut, sizzling through his veins hotter than any fire he’d ever felt. His nerves threatened to send his limbs into a spasm but he grit his teeth and guided the energy, struggling and thrashing beneath his skin like something alive, to his opposite shoulder. Pain seared through his other arm as he raised it, fingers extending as much as he could manage before narrowing and he curled all but two, which pointed like an arrow at his father.

The energy sprung from his fingertips, ricocheting from Zuko’s body back to the Firelord. Zuko only saw a flash of surprise in those bright, gold eyes before an explosion of fire and dust met his redirected lighting strike, bringing the columns of the war room down around them. The walls shook, stone crumbling slightly on Ozai’s side of the room. Zuko didn’t stop to see if his father had survived. He likely had less than a minute to get away and he didn’t waste it.

~

Chapter Text

Azula circled the two princesses slowly, leisurely. Whatever grip the woman had on her sanity was all but gone now. Katara could see the madness beneath, the wolfish grin, positively manic at the smell of blood, at the sight of her prey cornered. Sweat beaded Azula’s skin, intensely focused eyes shining with excitement. She was thrilled to have caught them, to have cornered them beyond the watching eyes of the Firelord or her brother.

Katara refused to lower her gaze, not letting Azula out of her sight as she continued to stalk closer. Yue stumbled back, even now shifting to angle her body in front of Katara protectively. But Azula wasn’t looking at Yue, no longer interesting in breaking the toy that had been her source of entertainment the last month. Azula’s grin was directed at Katara.

The angry, red patch of skin on Azula’s right arm caught Katara’s eye and she felt a tiny surge of satisfaction at the memory of turning the very sweat on the other girl’s skin to ice so cold it steamed on contact. Azula caught the glance and her face contorted with rage.

“Don’t worry,” Azula’s girlish voice dripped with contempt, “I won’t drag you back to the palace. I think I’ll just break you, one bone at a time, before I burn the skin off your bodies. Nice. And. Slow.”

Katara and Yue stepped backwards in unison as Azula stomped forward with each word. Yue’s hands were cold and clammy, what little colour she had in her face had fully drained from it now. The collar of her robe slipped down a fraction and Katara’s mind went silent. Climbing up from the skin on her shoulder, spreading to Yue’s neck was a dark, deep purple bruise. The edge of a burn mark flashed out of sight just beside it as Yue straightened and the robe pulled back into place.

A ringing had started in Katara’s ears, Azula’s words droned out, muffled. The only other sound Katara could hear was the bubbling creek beside them that flowed out of the drain. A prickle of cold spread across Katara’s fingertips and she looked up at Azula with only one emotion coursing through her with every heart beat and Azula pressed closer. Rage.

Azula stopped, eyes widening in confusion. She looked down. She was standing in the middle of a puddle that had suddenly appeared beneath her. The puddle began to grow, deepening, the water reaching her ankles.

“What–”

Azula jerked her left leg out, stepping away. The water followed her.

“No. Stop!”

Katara inhaled and exhaled, feeling her frantic heart slow to the calm she required. She raised and lowered her hands with each breath. She didn’t know why, but some instinct demanded she move her body with a fluidity that mirrored the water trickling over the rocks of the bank beside them.

Azula spun, her movements becoming more and more panicked. The water kept rising, rounding like a bowl as it reached her knees. Azula dashed sideways. The water followed. The higher it rose, the slower Azula’s movements became. Finally, a moment of clarity struck her and blue flame erupted from her palms to evaporate the growing ball.

Katara flinched but deepened her stance, feeling the wet earth slide beneath her thin slippers. With a frustrated growl, Katara whipped her hand to the side and made a fist. A wave of water jumped from just beneath Azula’s wrist and submerged her hand. Katara didn’t let her surprise break her concentration, repeating the movement with her other hand, trapping both of Azula’s now. Azula struggled against Katara’s grip, her perfect hair flying lose from how hard she lurched, trying to get her arms free. Katara scoffed.

“Hard to start a fire under water, isn’t it?” Katara barely recognised her own voice.

Azula bared her teeth, the water up to her neck now. Katara straightened as the bubble encompassed Azula’s head, completely submerging her though she stood on dry land. Even through the still-flowing water, Azula’s hate-filled eyes glowed like they held a fire of their own. Katara watched her continue to writhe against her prison for a moment, her movements panicked as the absence of air seemed to sink in.

With a deep breath, Katara steadied her hands in front of her. When she breathed out, the air was blisteringly cold. Katara ignored the pain in her lungs as she froze her own breath. The path of the icy wind continued until it brushed against the ball of water that wavered with each kick from Azula. The ice spread across the surface of the water, then deeper, resounding cracks that reached Katara’s ears. The sphere was frozen to its core.

Yue gasped beside Katara, making her blink. A sudden, heavy exhaustion made Katara’s legs feel weak and she stumbled, falling to her knees in the mud. Shaking hands touched her shoulders and Katara looked up to see Yue’s terrified face staring at the place where Azula was.

Katara followed her gaze and felt a complete absence of emotion when she looked at the ball of ice that still stood, Azula’s warped figure unmoving in its center. Katara got to her feet carefully, ignoring Yue beside her for a moment. Azula stared, unblinking, that same unchecked madness still twisting her features. Katara raised her hands and sliced downwards through the air. The ice shattered at the top, a line of cracks breaking it in two, and the circle cracked open. Azula crumpled with the rest of the ice and fell to the ground.

Katara relaxed her hands, forcing deep, controlled breaths into her lungs. The ice melted around Azula, water returning to the creek, but the princess remained unmoving, skin ice-cold to the touch. Katara slowly returned to herself, feeling a wave of nausea rising at the sight of cracks in the other girl’s frozen skin, solid blood caking the lines around her eyes, blood vessels burst within. Azula’s lips were frozen to her clenched teeth, that snarl forever spread over her face.

Katara shuddered and lurched to the side when the nausea struck her again and bile rose in her throat. Her stomach was empty, refusing to expel anything. She hadn’t eaten all day. Yue was there in the next moment, still-trembling hand gentle on her back.

“We can’t stay here.” She whispered, fear still shook her voice.

Katara let Yue help her to her feet and the two hurried towards the city. They stumbled through the edge of the small stretch of woods on the edge of the palace. The trees thinned and they quickly found themselves running past large houses that belonged to the nobility. Throngs of people were fleeing, heading to the harbour, which suited Katara and Yue perfectly. Katara snatched a pair of cloaks from inside an abandoned house, its door left opened. They blended with the crowd and followed the flow out of the city walls. A minute or two and they were down the steep, curving pathway that led out to the bay.

Yue clung to Katara, despite being taller, and Katara wrapped an arm around the thinner girl, swallowing the still simmering rage at being able to feel every one of her ribs, even through the many layers. That anger was more subdued now, dimmed by the shock of what Katara had done with her own hands. She had killed someone, and not in a battle, where the enemy had ships and canons, she drowned and froze Azula. She could have restrained her, or suffocated her until she lost consciousness…

So distracted in her spiralling thoughts, Katara jumped when a pair of hands latched onto her arms. In the crowd, she hadn’t seen the man approach, but she raised her hands now to fight him off, only to hesitate when she saw who it was.

“Come with me, now!” Iroh tugged her forward, turning and waving his hand to someone in the distance.

There were a number of boats in the harbour, many people rushing to board and run while the fires and explosions continued at the palace. Katara blinked and took only one more second to think before she grabbed Yue’s hand and followed Zuko’s uncle.

~

Zuko stopped by his chambers only to grab his dual swords. Katara was gone, and he saw no one the entire time he ran to the Southern wing of the palace. There were a number of secret exits out of the inner wall, and Zuko skidded to a stop over one of them. With a grunt, he tugged the heavy metal cover off of the drain and dropped down, landing in a crouch on the stone floor. Water trickled beneath his feet and Zuko had to hold his breath for a second at the sudden smell but did not stop for long. In the next moment he was running, his swords thudding against his hip.

The drains led out to the city, and Zuko stumbled into the moonlight in a small glen. Looking up at the palace wall behind him, Zuko knew from his mental map of the capital that he was on the South East park. There was a large pond a little way to his right, beyond the line of trees. When Zuko turned that way though, he froze.

A body lay on the bank a few paces away and, in the dim light, Zuko’s breath stuck in his throat. He rushed over and his eyes adjusted. It was Azula. She wasn’t just dead, she was soaked through, as though she had drowned. Zuko reached for her face and snatched his hand back as her skin crackled a little at the slight touch. She was coated in ice, it had begun to thaw but she was completely frozen.

Realisation hit him about as gently as an avalanche. A particularly large explosion echoed through the trees and Zuko looked over his shoulder at the palace wall. He looked back at Azula and sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to breathe. She had followed Katara, she wouldn’t have been about to capture her either. Azula tried to kill her. Zuko shook his head, he could have stopped it, if he had just left with her sooner. Azula might have lived if Zuko had gone with Katara. Grief pulled at his heart, but if Azula had attacked her, Zuko knew Katara didn't have any control over her powers. This wasn't her fault.

Zuko slowly released the breath he was holding. His eyes burned but he gave his sister one last look and rose, eyes finding the scattered torchlight in the distance, spreading as ships made their way out of the harbour.

The harbour, Zuko remembered his uncle saying, before the fighting stops. Zuko ran.

Zuko knew the city like the back of his hand. There were still crowds of people rushing through the streets. The fighting would not go on for much longer, he knew. It was nothing but a distraction, but they hurried to the harbour anyway, even though the fires remained only inside the inner wall. Zuko put thoughts of the attack out of his mind and focused on cutting through the side streets as he made for the outer wall. There were so many people cramming through the singular opening in the crater that served as the entrance to the capital, but Zuko spotted a break in the jagged rocks that caged the city like teeth, right above the roof of one of the houses a block away from the main gate.

There was no time to weigh his options, it would take him too long to fight his way through the crowd, then down the winding trail to the docks. Zuko dashed as fast as he could to the house he had spotted. He threw all of his energy into a run up the stone wall, happily finding a narrow foot hold and launching himself as high as possible to grab onto the roof. With one swing, he was rolling onto the tiled roof. Carefully, Zuko padded to the ridge and broke into a run. He made it to the corner that brushed against the rock face of the crater and jumped. The gap was only just above his head height standing on the roof, but with a final leap, he slipped both hands over the lip and heaved his body upwards. He tucked his feet in and practically flew over the edge.

It was a steep drop, but Zuko slid most of the way down the rocky wall, keeping his knees slightly bent, and when he picked up too much speed, he sent a burst of fire bending to slow his descent. Zuko ignored the pain in his hands, the rocks scraping and tearing his skin, he kept them out to stead himself. He neared the base of the mountain and stumbled into a run once more. There was an outcropping of houses, one of the outer villages, between him and the South side of the harbour. Zuko hurried to the top of the hill that surrounded it and gasped for breath as he stared at the harbour just ahead. There were still so many ships docked, but several had already passed through the gate at the mouth of the bay. It was opened, unguarded to let people through while the attack continued. Zuko glanced around, searching for… something amongst the remaining ships.

Iroh had told him to get there before the fighting stopped. Zuko looked back and saw that the explosions had ceased, but flashes of fire continued in the distance. He didn’t have long, but his uncle may be waiting. Zuko turned to the harbour again looking for something that might be familiar or clearly his uncle's ship. It was then that a white sail in the South corner of the docks unravelled, the ship preparing to leave, and Zuko saw it. A white lotus.

It took Zuko less than a minute to make it to the streets of the town between him and the water. He sprinted at full speed, the ship out of sight but his direction clear. The burning at his side was second to the dread that he would be too late. Even with his heart and feet racing faster than Zuko knew they could, the distance between him and the bay seemed infinite. His vision narrowed, and Zuko forced air into his already straining lungs. The edge of the town was just ahead and he could make out the horizon over the hill.

Zuko burst into the crowd. He dodged and weaved as quickly as he could. The boat was in his sights, but was already starting to pull away. He stumbled and bumped into someone. He didn’t look back, pushing faster. Sweat dripped into his eyes and Zuko shook his head, his hair coming loose from its binding. He could see his uncle on the ship, who spotted him at the same time.

“Zuko!” Iroh rushed to the edge of the deck and leaned over.

Zuko coughed, his chest tight, but fought the fatigue that threatened to steal his breath with every second. He kept running. The ship pulled further away, towards the center of the bay. Zuko skidded slightly as he turned the corner onto the narrow dock but did not stop. Another face came into view onboard, coming to stand beside Iroh and Zuko almost tripped over.

Katara gasped when she saw Zuko throwing everything he had left into that final sprint. The end of the dock drew closer and Zuko sucked in a breath. Counting his last steps, he yelled and launched off the very edge of the landing. Pebbles broke loose beneath his shoe and splashed into the water below, but Zuko flew. His body soared, the distance between them shrinking in the blink of an eye. He was dropping too quickly, Zuko knew he would. With a sharp exhale, Zuko was propelled upwards, fire shooting out of his fists by his sides. He could only maintain this kind of power for a second, but that was all he need to make that last few feet.

Zuko stumbled onto the deck, straight into Iroh’s waiting arms. Zuko panted, only just processing that he had made it. Still leaning on his uncle, Zuko glanced back at the palace. There were fires here and there, but the sounds of conflict had stopped. Their ship sailed through the open gate and the palace became smaller and smaller in the distance.

“We had an escape route planned, this wasn’t a battle we intended to win. Just a necessary distraction.” Iroh pulled back, gripping Zuko’s shoulders.

There were tears of relief in his eyes and Zuko felt himself deflate. Zuko hung his head, exhaustion clinging to him. Shame weighed on him, the memories of everything that had happened that evening began to creep back into focus. Despite all of it, disgust at himself, at his father, fear for Katara, grief for Azula, it was relief that brought tears to his eyes in that moment. Zuko clung to his uncle’s arms, his own beginning to shake. Iroh immediately wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly as Zuko drew in a shaky breath.

They were on open water, the Fire Nation falling further and further from sight. After a moment, Zuko took a deep breath and pulled out of his uncle’s grip. The light from the city had faded significantly now, and Zuko blinked up at the blindingly bright stars that lay scattered across the sky. There were so many more than he could see from the palace, Zuko had forgotten how beautiful it was on the open water, had forgotten how peaceful it was, far away from any nation, any palace.

His eyes drifted down, and they fell on Katara, who still stood, staring at him. Her hands were wrapped around herself, the wind whipping at her hair and clothes. Behind her, Yue sat with a blanket wrapped around herself, about as disoriented as Zuko felt. Zuko got to his feet, his uncle rising with him from the floor of the deck.

Katara looked like she wasn’t sure whether to move closer or back away when Zuko took a step in her direction. Gripping her arms, Katara only stared, something fearful in her eyes as Zuko closed the distance between them.

“Zuko…” Katara’s voice was strained, afraid. “Azula…. I mean… she found us…”

Zuko reached for one of Katara’s hands, her knuckles white where she clutched her own sleeve. Katara jumped a little but didn’t pull away.

“I know.”

Zuko didn’t look at her face, just her hand in his. Blood and dirt coated his skin, from his journey down the mountain. He didn't care, even if the touch sent needles of pain into his palms. Zuko glanced up at Katara’s face then, there were tears on her cheeks and Zuko brushed them away without thinking. Katara frowned at him, not understanding how he could stand to be near her. But the turmoil in his mind only quietened when he saw that she was safe. If Azula had hurt her...

Zuko hadn’t known his sister, not for a long time. That madness that ate away at her, that their father had thought to hone into a weapon, had been her own worst enemy, and had ultimately destroyed her. Zuko struggled to swallow as a surge of guilt filled him at the thought that he might have been able to stop it. He had tried so hard to earn his father’s respect, his love, but by the time he realised his father had no love to give, it was too late, and too late for Azula.

“It was an accident. She left you no choice.” Zuko’s voice broke but he brought his eyes to Katara.

There was a panicked look on her face at his words and Zuko hesitated. Katara’s lip shook, and she suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes. Zuko frowned as Katara stepped out of his grip. She straightened, trying to collect herself. Zuko could see she fought against something in her own mind, but he couldn’t understand what it was that made her stare at him with a growing look of regret.

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Her words were like a knife in Zuko’s stomach. Katara’s sad eyes were the only indication of any of the earlier tenderness. Her voice had become stronger, prouder, and that was when Zuko recognised that he wasn't just surrounded by people from the Fire Nation. Now that they were well away from the harbour, the crew flew into a more hurried motion. Zuko realised he was looking at Fire Nation, Earth kingdom and even a few Water Tribe, all working side by side. A cloaked figure stepped out from behind a burly Water Tribe warrior who watched Zuko with a look of resentment. The figure stopped a few paces away from Zuko and Katara, who shuffled back a little, wary.

Too much had happened. Zuko’s mind couldn’t make sense of it all and what he was looking at now threatened to push him over the edge. As it was, Zuko swayed on his feet but somehow managed to stay on them.

“Aang.” Zuko breathed.

“Who is that?” Katara whispered, still giving Zuko a wide berth.

The Avatar smiled, pulling his hood down to reveal blue tattoos over a bald head.

“Hello Zuko.”

~

Chapter Text

The moment Zuko freed him, the constant hum of the voices grew to a droning, dissonant wail. Aang let the spirits of the past Avatars burst through him like a conduit, no longer caring enough to hold them at bay for the sake of his own mind. He let his consciousness slip away, far beyond the hurricane that formed through his airbending, though he was not the one to call on it. Aang turned away from the sensations of the outside world, he let his predecessors steer the way.

He didn’t know how he got to the Southern Air Temple, and he didn’t much care. A female voice murmured from the shadows of his still foggy mind. He needed to see what the Fire Nation had done here. It was Kyoshi, or maybe Yangchen… It didn’t really matter. Aang let the wind guide him, and he followed the familiar path through the steep mountain trail to his home.

Aang had lost himself for days within the Avatar state when he first arrived in the Fire Nation. He had never been able to cross over to the spirit world before, he left before the monks could teach him. That was when he first met Roku. The previous Avatar was a decisive man, there was unmistakable anger that overflowed from him into Aang. The spirit world was strange that way, emotions were more than feelings confined to one person. Roku had been born in the Fire Nation, and to see how his oldest friend, Firelord Sozin had broken his trust and laid waste to everything Roku stood to protect, it left a pain that followed him even in death.

After Roku came Kyoshi. Born in the Earth Kingdom, her rage was deeply rooted. The waves of it that washed over Aang were against everything he had always believed. All life was sacred, all. But the Fire Nation had left so much destruction, so much pain and death. It was too much for Aang to bear. He learned to block Kyoshi, but it she didn’t give up that easily.

To him, only a few days had passed since Aang learned that he would be sent away from the Southern Air Temple. Away from his home, from Gyatso… He was so much younger then, hopeful… Aang didn’t know how many years had passed since Zuko found him, dazed and lying in the ice, not that it mattered. That lightness that made it so easy for him as a child to drift like a leaf on the breeze, the true heart and soul of an Air Nomad, was gone.

Aang stood in the wreckage of his home. The small part of him that still held on to the hope that it was all a lie, a trick, that the Fire Nation never made it to the temples and the Air Nomads would appear out of the mist, died then. Aang surveyed the carnage and ruin scattered around him with an empty stare. Gyatso’s skeleton sat against the wall, Fire Nation armour strewn around him. It was the only small comfort Aang could find at the sight. Gyatso had fought to the last, to protect the others. But it didn’t matter in the end. Everything he knew was gone. Aang was the last airbender.

He would have given himself over to the grief, let it destroy him, but a familiar sound jolted him out of his own darkening thoughts. The throaty bellow in the distance shook loose tears that Aang hadn’t realised had gathered and he ran, his tired and malnourished muscles protesting at the sudden activity.

Appa thudded onto the stone floor of the outer courtyard and Aang ran blindly at the sky bison, his matted hair flying everywhere. The warmth beneath him as he gripped his friend’s fur steadied him, but he couldn’t stay another second amongst so much death. Aang’s soul felt stripped bare. Appa seemed to sense his distress and offered him a low rumble as Aang clung to him.

They left the Southern temple. Exhausted, Aang didn’t wake until they reached the Eastern sea, the mountains that housed the Eastern Air Temple stood in the distance. Aang braced himself for more heartbreak but Appa glided over the entrance, heading straight to the temple itself. He slowed as he approached the pillars surrounding it and Aang jumped to his feet when he saw a figure sitting in the centre of one. In his excitement, hope springing to the surface once more, Aang leapt from Appa’s back and floated down to the pillar.

It wasn’t another airbender. It wasn’t even a monk that sat, meditating on the smooth stone in front of him. The old man opened one eye and smiled at Aang. He stretched and stood slowly. His name was Pathik, a guru that had travelled to the temple. Aang regarded him with suspicion when Pathik claimed to be a friend of Gyatso’s. It took the length of a day before Aang returned to the guru and decided he had no good reason to ignore the only other living being on the island chain.

Appa grunted when Aang returned, his wordless stubbornness earning him a scowl from Aang. Guru Pathik smiled again at Aang, despite the boy's clear displeasure. The man’s wrinkled face made his story almost believable. Aang knew that monks could attain a great age, if they lived by the steadfast values of the Air Nomads and lived a pure, conscientious life. It was entirely possible that this guru had met, even befriended his mentor a century ago.

Over the next few days, Guru Pathik explained to Aang the existence of chakras. He insisted that it was imperative that the Avatar be spiritually balanced, if he is to be able to master the Avatar state. Aang begrudgingly followed Pathik around the ruins of the temple, and slowly Aang was able to piece together, not only what happened to him, but what the Fire Nation had done to the rest of the world.

Zuko’s had been the first face Aang had seen when he woke. Groggy and weak, he had only a moment to take in the walls of ice that surrounded him, the sound of Appa groaning behind him, before darkness intruded again and he slipped back into unconsciousness. He was already on the ship when he woke again, his strength slowly returning to him. The same face met him. A brutal burn scar on his left eye stretched across a shocked expression. He didn’t understand how Aang could be there, any more than Aang did.

Aang didn’t know about the war. He didn’t know that Zuko stared with such intensity because neither he, nor anyone alive in the world by now, had ever seen an airbender. He was so trusting then, hopeful, and he listened patiently while Zuko slowly explained, slowly revealed that Aang wasn’t just a guest on his ship, but a prisoner.

Aang had run to the deck, refusing to believe any of it. Airbenders couldn’t be cornered, they couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t have been in the ice for a century, it was impossible. He didn’t have his glider, he searched for a way out. They were in the middle of the ocean now, not an island in sight. Fire Nation soldiers surrounded the deck, firebenders readying to capture him again. Appa appeared in the next moment, having followed the ship from the iceberg. There was a moment of silence after he landed on the deck, startling the crew. Aang ran to his side, ready to fend off the firebenders.

Zuko had appeared then. Where would he go? he had asked him. Aang had hesitated, looking to his best friend who blinked sluggishly. He was exhausted, still fighting to stay awake. He wouldn’t be able to escape the firebenders fast enough, it was a wonder he’d managed to follow them this long. And he didn’t even know where they were. In the end, he asked Zuko if they would let Appa go if he went with them. Zuko agreed. Aang told Appa to go home, to find the airbenders. It was the last time Aang saw Appa for four years.

Aang had cooperated over the weeks they spent sailing to the Fire Nation. He learned that Zuko was the Firelord’s son, but Sozin, the Firelord Aang knew of, was long since passed. An older man, named Iroh was brother to the Firelord and Zuko’s uncle. Zuko had searched for Aang for two years, but it wasn’t until the days before they arrived at the Fire Nation that Zuko finally admitted why. He could not return home to his family without the Avatar in custody. Aang was his key to going home.

There was a kindness to Zuko, Aang could see, though it was hidden behind the harshness of his pain and anger. He allowed Aang to roam about the ship, confident that he would not run. Where would he go anyway? Aang still refused to believe there were no more airbenders, there had to be some mistake. His optimism and faith was not rewarded when they entered the Fire Nation. Everything Zuko had told him was the truth. The Avatar, once a symbol of peace and spirituality throughout the world, was greeted with prejudice and steel.

Aang was presented to the Firelord like an exotic gift, thrust into chains as soon as they set foot in the palace. Aang had looked to Zuko then, pleaded with him to explain to his father. Zuko watched the exchange with confusion, clearly unhappy with the outcome of his return. He did not speak out, however, and it wasn’t until Aang saw him glance questioningly at the Firelord, only to avert his gaze and stifle his discontent, that Aang finally understood. The scar on Zuko’s face was not only a symbol of his banishment, but a reminder of what happened to anyone who spoke out against the Firelord.

Aang couldn’t understand how things had changed so much in one hundred years. It was a single lifetime for some, and Aang was just at the beginning of his. He had never known despair or grief. Locked away inside a mountain, only the weight of his own regret to keep him company, Aang waited for someone to come, to prove him wrong, to rescue him. But no one came.

The flow of Aang’s spiritual energy was less like a series of connected pools than a tangled mess of vines across swamp. Days passed before Aang cleared his first chakra. Guru Pathik was patient with him, waiting as Aang built up his strength to face the dark memories that had snared his now-fragile psyche. Alone with his past lives for so long in that cell, Aang struggled to discern his own memories from the onslaught of images that came with interacting with the other Avatars.

Slowly, each chakra cleared strengthened Aang’s grip on reality. Pathik told him stories about his travels. He once came to the Southern Air Temple to meet Monk Gyatso. Aang was only a child, but he remembered the boy with so much airbending talent. Hearing about Gyatso lifted something from the heaviness that remained on Aang’s heart. He cleared another chakra before sundown.

Thanks to Guru Pathik, Aang was now able to enter the Avatar state at will. Trapped in the Fire Nation, Aang had been plagued by the voices of the past Avatars, each of them straining for their outrage at what the Firelord has done to be heard. For the first time in years, Aang silenced them. Pathik guided Aang through a long afternoon of meditation to build a barrier – a disconnect between him and the other Avatars, and finally he was able to rest. It was the first full night of sleep since his imprisonment.

There was one more lesson Pathik had to teach Aang, however. The next morning they meditated again, in the heart of the temple, surrounded by statues of the past Avatars. The guru urged Aang to look deeper, beyond his past lives, to what lay within. It was then that Aang found Raava, the light spirit.

Raava’s voice was gentle when Aang heard it, tender, as if she were speaking to a loved one. She had been bound to the Avatar for thousands of years, thousands of lifetimes, of Avatars. It was their shared purpose to maintain the balance of the world, and now it has been without that balance for a hundred years. The source of this imbalance was the damage the Fire Nation had done. They had much work to do.

Pathik listened to all of this, when Aang opened his eyes, with a knowing smile. Aang asked him what he was meant to do then. He had control over the Avatar state, understood who he was, what the world needed him to be. Pathik calmly reminded Aang that his purpose was to teach the Avatar to master the Avatar state. He could not aid him in his mission to the world, only to his spirit. He was not alone, however, and Pathik explained that he would find help among the masters of the White Lotus. Aang left the temple not long after that, surprised to find himself sad to say goodbye to the strange old man. But he needed to get to the Earth Kingdom. And so begun his search for the White Lotus.

~

Chapter Text

Zuko watched Katara from the railing where he leaned, talking with his uncle and watching the rest of the crew. People gave them a wide birth, and he preferred it that way. Zuko’s face was recognisable anywhere, courtesy of his father’s early discipline, and even if it weren’t for his scar, there wasn’t a person on the ship who hadn’t at least heard about his arrival.

They weren’t the only Fire Nation people onboard, but they were decidedly the minority. This wasn’t just a random group of mixed nationalities on one boat either, Zuko quickly surmised that the crew was part of a resistance. Under different circumstances, Zuko might have admired the comradery, the peace with which people from all around the world worked in such harmony to a common goal. But this was so new to Zuko, and his judgement was clouded by the knowledge that he wasn’t looking at his wife anymore. In fact, their marriage was nothing but a construct forced on both of them, an act they had learned to play for an audience. The woman in front of him was a warrior, and a killer.

Zuko turned away, his mood souring. Katara’s voice floated over to where he stood though, and there was an air of authority to it that Zuko had never heard her wield. Zuko glanced up again at the sound of it.

“She is their chief.” Iroh said pensively.

Zuko scoffed under his breath and scowled.

“A natural leader.” Iroh sounded almost in awe.

“She killed Azula.” Zuko told him, his voice gruff. “Outside the palace.”

Iroh said nothing for a moment and Zuko glanced his way. Iroh blinked, absorbing the information, but there was no horror or disgust on his face once he did. He considered Katara.

“Azula was dangerous.” Iroh sighed. “Your wife managed to get under her skin. Your sister would have hunted her for as long as she breathed.”

Zuko recoiled, pushing away from the banister.

“She’s not my wife.” He growled and strode away.

~

Katara watched Zuko storm off, his uncle shaking his head slightly, as if disappointed. He wouldn’t even look at her. A painful twinge reminded her that he had every reason to hate her, but a cold, familiar feeling overpowered it, remembering what she and countless others had lost at the hands of his family. Katara turned away, pushing all thoughts of Zuko and the Fire Nation out of her mind. They had a lot of distance to cover if they were going to make it to the Earth Kingdom.

Days passed and Zuko continued to creep about the ship, not speaking to anyone but his uncle, the only person able to get anywhere near him. He wasn’t doing himself any favours, Katara could see the looks the rest of the crew threw his way whenever he was around. Zuko seemed to regard the rest of the resistance with identical disdain and it only increased their distrust in him, the Firelord’s son.

~

It was the third night on the open sea, Zuko stared down at the water that curled in a constant wave beside them. They maintained their speed, day and night, thanks to a number of waterbenders onboard, Katara included. He had watched as one of them taught Katara the repetitive, shifting motion that made them able to push the ship through the water. She was a quick study, and soon joined the rotations that helped them continue their constant speed. A sick, hollow feeling reminded him that it was her ability and skill with control that led to his sister’s icy corpse on the bank.

Zuko groaned and tried to shake the memory out of his head but it was no use. He was about to turn and go back below deck when something struck him from behind. Stunned, Zuko fell forward, hands reaching to clutch the banister but someone grabbed to arms and forced them behind his back. Instinctively Zuko tried to drop to a crouch and spin out of his attackers grip but the strength with which they held him still told him it was not just one assailant that held him.

Fire flew from his palms, but his breath was unsteady, his vision swimming from the strike to his head. Someone shoved him down against the railing. They wrapped a rope around his wrists and elbows, jerking his shoulder back painfully. Zuko shook his head to clear it. He put one foot on the banister. Kicking forward, he leapt backwards against his attacker. More hands instantly pulled him off the bigger man and panic rose in Zuko’s throat. They spun him and shoved him back against the banister. There was a sword pressed against his throat and two other people gripped his shoulders to keep him still.

Zuko took a second to take in the situation and started to take a deep breath. The man with the sword smirked at him and punched him in the stomach, right between his ribs. Zuko’s body crumpled forward, his lungs struggled to take in any air.

“Don’t get any ideas about summoning some kind of fire breath.” The Earth Kingdom swordsman spat.

Zuko coughed and struggled against his captures again, but he could barely breathe.

“Send our regards to your grandfather.”

Zuko slumped as his vision blurred. He felt the hands on his shoulders haul him up and over the edge of the banister.

Suddenly, they faltered and Zuko slid back to the floor. Water splashed his face and Zuko opened his eyes to see the three men backing away from a shadow. Squinting, Zuko tried to see beyond the dark shape and realised he was looking at Katara. She was standing with her hands semi raised, her legs in a wide stance. A huge wave poised to crash down on the deck of the ship hung, frozen behind her.

“I strongly recommend you rethink your plan.” She said calmly.

The three men stared, clearly reconsidering. They inched away from Katara.

“This man is not your enemy.” She said, eyes settling on Zuko.

Zuko only glared, his head throbbing now but he managed to suck in a shallow breath.

“He protected me while I was in the Fire Nation, he’s not his father.” She looked away and locked eyes with each of the men. “If you attack him, you’ll answer to me.”

“Yes, maam.” One of the men stammered, a Water Tribe warrior.

The man with the sword sheathed it, and with hands raised, all three of them inched away. Katara watched them, her stance unmoving, the wave still looming over them. The men hurried away and disappeared below deck.

Katara grunted and dropped the wave. The ship rocked violently but eventually straightened. Zuko wriggled upright, still coughing. Katara was beside him immediately, and cut him free with a knife she then slipped into her belt. She had been dressing like the rest of the crew, practically, and like a man. Gone were the fine silk dresses she had been forced to wear in the palace.

Zuko groaned and leaned away once his arms were free. Katara sat back on her heels, watching him.

“I didn’t need your help.” He muttered.

Katara barked out a laugh. “Not from where I’m standing.” She reached for his arm to help him up.

“Don’t touch me.” Zuko spat.

He grimaced and pulled himself to his feet, glaring at her. Katara flinched at his words.

“You’re a murderer.” He reminded her, straightening and turning away. “Just looking at you makes me sick.”

Katara grabbed his arm then, making Zuko seethe.

“I make you sick, do I?” She took a step closer when he yanked his arm out of her grip. “Your family is responsible for all the suffering in the world! You think they’re the only ones that want you dead for your father’s sins?”

She pointed behind her to where the three men had disappeared. She set her jaw.

“The worst part is that I don’t even blame them. My entire family was taken away from me by the Fire Nation! My mother, father, brother.” With every word she moved closer, forcing Zuko to concede a step. “I have no one left because of your family.”

“You killed my family!” Zuko suddenly screamed.

Katara gasped as her back hit the mast that was beside her. Zuko’s control had slipped for a second and now he had her pinned beneath him. He leaned in, his voice thick with resentment.

“You talk about how much right you have to hate me for what my father is,” Zuko’s hands were shaking with rage, “but you murdered my sister. You could have left her alive but you killed her in cold blood.”

Katara blinked, and Zuko saw a flash of remorse in her eyes. Good. Katara glanced down and when she looked up and that remorse was gone. Zuko’s eyes narrowed.

“Neither of us is innocent.” She said softly, calmly.

Zuko frowned down at her.

“It was you who stole the Avatar,” she went on, “they won’t ever forgive you for your part in the war.”

Zuko stared at her, then realised how close they were. His eyes flicked to her lips unwittingly and for a moment he remembered how it was only days ago that he had been willing to give up everything to protect her. But that was before she drowned and killed Azula. Anger, grief and confusion at his current predicament all vied for dominance in his mind, and Zuko wrestled with his conscience, searching desperately for something certain. Katara’s eyes were still trained on him with defiance. Zuko slowly raised a hand to Katara’s face, a question on his lips. The gleam of his wedding band caught his attention and he froze. With a snarl, he pushed away from Katara and tugged the ring off his finger.

“I didn't ask for any of this!” He yelled, and flung the ring at her feet.

Zuko rushed at her again, anger boiling over now. Katara jumped a little at his proximity but did not defend herself. Zuko stopped just in front of her, only a breath away. He leaned in, his voice low now.

“I wish you’d never come here. I wish I’d never laid eyes on you.”

Something flickered in Katara’s eyes but she said nothing. That mask was back in place instantly. Zuko considered her for one more second and then stepped away, eager to get inside. He couldn’t trust anyone on this ship.

~

Chapter Text

The next morning, their ship rendezvoused with another, but this crew wasn’t like their rag-tag resistance team, these were Water Tribe warships. Zuko avoided the warriors that boarded, coming to speak with Iroh. Since arriving, Zuko had gleamed that his uncle was something of a leader amongst the other fighters. While there was a healthy amount of scepticism towards his presence, a scepticism that extended and even seemed magnified towards Zuko, the crew seemed to accept that if the Firelord’s brother had turned against the Fire Nation, then perhaps there was hope.

The men that attacked Zuko steered clear of him as well, Katara’s threat fresh in their minds. The more distance they put between them and the Fire Nation helped moral a little as well. Still, Zuko hardly cared what the others thought of him, and he wasn’t looking for forgiveness for what he had been born into.

The Water Tribe envoys walked with a deserved self-assured stride. Zuko kept out of their way but watched them warily. They were armed to the teeth, daggers and clubs hanging from their clothes like ornaments, though Zuko doubted they were merely decorative in nature. One of the warriors, a slender looking man, broader than Zuko but of a similar slim build, glanced his way. There was little emotion in his gaze, but he looked at Zuko for a little too long for Zuko to believe he didn’t know exactly who he was.

Zuko leaned against the wall in the cramped room where Iroh welcomed the Water Tribe men. Katara was not there, surprisingly, and Zuko absently wondered why. Not that he cared, she seemed to understand how much he didn’t want her near him.

“Chief Hakoda,” Iroh bowed in greeting as the men sat.

The slender one tipped his head but that was all. Zuko eyed the supposed chief. This man wasn’t Northern Water Tribe, their ships were small, nowhere near the size of the battle ships reported to reside in the North. He was from the South, which made him…

“My daughter is not here?” Hakoda’s voice was gruff but not as deep as Zuko expected.

Iroh’s eyes flicked to Zuko for a split second but shook his head apologetically.

“Katara has been helping the crew on deck, she is a very responsible young woman, a natural leader.”

Zuko cringed at Iroh’s words, looking at the wall. Iroh cleared his throat.

“We haven’t been able to return to Wolf Cove for years now, Fire Nation patrols blocked the bay.”

Zuko had glanced at Hakoda when he mentioned the patrols and shifted uncomfortably when he saw that the chief was already peering at him. He turned back to Iroh and Zuko went back to pretending to ignore them.

“I’m sure she will be glad to see you, after so long.” Iroh nodded, his voice warm and gentle.

Zuko marvelled at how easily Iroh brought a sense of calm to the room. He knew his uncle was a skilled negotiator, he was born to be the Firelord. Not for the first time, Zuko wondered why it was his father on the throne and not Iroh.

“It’s safer for us to travel separately to the Earth Kingdom, but…” Hakoda hesitated and Zuko looked at him again.

“You heard that your daughter was here. I understand.” Iroh nodded and offered the men a smile. “You are welcome to remain onboard for as long as you’d like, but you are quite right, the longer our ships share the same waters, the longer we risk being spotted by scouts. We can’t have the location of the White Lotus found out.”

“A proposal then,” Hakoda turned to his men before continuing, “there are Water Tribe on your ship, perhaps we can trade some crew members temporarily, until we reach the Earth Kingdom. There are a number of my men that would give anything to see their families again, I will not waste the opportunity. We have no waterbenders unfortunately, so we will not ask you to give them up, but I would think any Water Tribe on your crew would appreciate the chance to spend some time with their own people.”

Zuko watched Iroh as he considered Hakoda’s request. His uncle smiled in the end.

“Very well. Now,” he lifted the tea pot beside him and filled the four cups that were on the table, “let’s discuss the strategy.”

Zuko pushed himself off the wall, not interested in hearing Iroh telling the chief about all of the Fire Nation’s weaknesses. He stepped through the door and closed it quietly behind him. He jumped when he turned to find Katara jerking back at the same time. She had been listening in, clearly not busy helping on deck. Zuko frowned at her, but he didn’t care to know what was going on between Katara and her father. He said nothing and continued past her down the hall.

Stepping onto the deck, the sun blinded Zuko for a moment and he squinted. There was some kind of commotion on the forward deck, people yelling. A crowd had gathered around something, and the clatter of weapons informed Zuko that there was a fight going on before his eyes did. He kept to the edge of the crowd and found a gap through which he could see the fighters.

An Earth Kingdom man wielded a straight sword, sweat already making his face shine. His opponent held only a staff in her hands. Yue’s hair was tied back in a knot of long braids in a brutal, tribal fashion. She had also forgone the dresses and opted for a loose pair of pants, cinched at the waist with a thick leather belt. Her chest was wrapped with layers of white cloth, her shoulders bare, and with her facing away from him, Zuko’s eyes snagged on her back.

He had never seen any marks on Yue in the palace, but he knew they had been hurting her. It hadn’t really struck him how much damage they had done to her. Yue’s back was a tapestry of wounds. Burn marks, old and new, broken up by the odd bruise. They were an assortment of colours now, bruises various levels of healed over, but Zuko guessed they felt as fresh as the day they appeared. Yue didn’t show any sign of being in pain, however, and Zuko had to admit she was skilled.

She was thin, painfully so, her time in the Fire Nation had taken so much from her. Zuko could see she was out of breath, but that didn’t stop her from dodging her opponent’s sword with a swiftness that made airbenders seem sluggish – or so he imagined.

The swordsman stepped out and Yue stabbed the end of her staff downward, behind the man’s foot. She levered it upward and the man came crashing down onto the deck. His sword clattered away. The crowd cheered and Yue went to help the man to his feet. They actually smiled at each other and the crowd started to disperse.

Zuko wanted to avoid the awkward stares he usually gained when people saw him out and about. He turned to go back the way he had come but paused when he saw someone was watching him. Katara’s face was blank of any emotion, but she glanced towards Yue and Zuko followed briefly before looking back at Katara. Guilt stabbed at him again, and a tiny, irritating part of him remembered that it was thanks to his father’s cruelty, and that Yue wasn’t the only one with a scar to show it.

With a scowl, Zuko turned away from Katara, and ducked back inside.

Zuko checked for other crew members on the deck before he returned to the railing that night. The back of his head still ached when he touched it, reminding him to stay vigilant. He couldn’t sleep, seeing Yue’s scars had stirred up old memories, like the sight of his father’s indifferent face staring down at him on the Agni Kai mat. Zuko had jolted awake, breathless and drenched in sweat. He needed air, and so he had crept out onto the deck once more. He wasn’t afraid the crew would attack him again, not really, Katara had taken care of that, he could tell. They all gave her a wider berth, not just the three that assaulted him, all of them. They were afraid of her, more afraid of her than the chief and the other warriors that had chosen to stay on the ship after the Water Tribe crew had left.

Zuko sighed, trying to shake the feeling her look had left him with. It was almost as if she was saying “see?”. Yue had been just a part of their game, and Zuko stood by and did nothing to stop it.

“Can I join you?” A voice said nearby.

Zuko’s head snapped up and he turned to see Yue walking to his side.

“…Of course.” Zuko stammered.

They stood together, watching the dark horizon. Yue seemed content, Zuko looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Her back and shoulders were covered now, a fur coat wrapped around her, the nights were colder now.

“I didn’t know,” Zuko started but then hesitated.

Yue turned to him. She looked like she already knew what he was going to say, a sad smile found its way to her lips.

“I did know,” he tried again, “that they were hurting you. I just didn’t realise how–”

“I know.” Yue looked away, her voice soft.

“Yue–”

“I don’t blame you, you know?” She glanced at him again, she offered him a weak smile. “I never blamed you for not stopping it. What could you do, really?” She chuckled but it was empty, hollow.

“I could have–” Zuko stopped, he didn’t have an answer for her.

“Your eye,” Yue said, stopping Zuko from burying himself deeper, “it was him too, wasn’t it?”

She looked at him fully now. Zuko swallowed, suddenly fighting the urge to touch his face. His hair was free, long strands of it pushed to one side, partly covering his scar. Yue didn't drop her gaze and Zuko looked away first.

“Yes.” His throat was dry.

“Then I don’t blame you.”

Zuko looked back at Yue, the guilt still stabbing at him. He could have at least tried.

“It wasn’t him though,” Yue said suddenly.

Zuko blinked.

“It was never him. He never laid a hand on me. He didn't have to.” Her voice shrank and started to waver a little.

Yue wouldn’t look at him now, and realisation finally dawned on him. It was Azula, all of it. It was never the Firelord, never his father. He had watched as Azula amused herself with torturing Yue every day and never said a word. His body suddenly felt deathly cold as shock numbed his limbs. Yue seemed to gather herself and took a long breath. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and straightened. She looked at Zuko, though her expression was resolute.

“Katara knew,” she said then.
Zuko snapped back to himself. There was anger at the mention of her name, but it was muddled with the darkness he now knew of in Azula. He couldn’t feel the same rage rise to meet his grief when he thought of her now.

“I know she was your sister,” Yue said, and a hard look crossed her face.

Zuko shook his head, it was all too much. He leaned heavily over the banister again and they stood in silence once more. After a moment, Yue hummed thoughtfully.

“I would have done it again, you know. If I could go back to that time.”

~

Katara stiffened at her words. She stood in the shadows and listened in. Zuko, hunched over the banister, looked up and gawked at Yue as if she were insane.

“If it would make any difference, I still would go back.” She gave Zuko a pleading look, like she wanted him to understand.

Katara felt tears build behind her eyes and she gripped the line rope beside her.

“But I know it won’t, not now. The Firelord will kill the Moon spirit for what we did.”

Yue’s voice broke and Katara fought every instinct to rush to her and try to comfort her. Zuko beat her to it and Katara relaxed a little when he reached for Yue. The feeling was accompanied by a weird stab of envy that she shrugged off as soon as she became aware of it.

“This is wrong, all of it.” Zuko gripped Yue’s arms gently.

There was so much certainty in his voice, he seemed to realise something then, his gaze far away.

“We have to stop him.” He said quietly.

“I agree.”

The voice came from beside Katara and she almost screamed. The Avatar stood not even two steps away, shirtless, tattoos on display. She hadn’t even heard him approach. Katara stared at the blue ink that covered his pale skin, she hadn't seen him since that first night on the ship. They told her he had been meditating, and wanted to be left alone. Aang regarded her with curiosity and Katara remembered that she had been eavesdropping. She turned awkwardly back to the other two and avoided Zuko’s gaze. He was probably glaring at her.

Aang walked over and Katara hesitated before following, they already knew she was listening. She smothered the urge to squirm under Zuko’s glare. Katara walked to Yue and reached for the other girls’ hand. Yue smiled and gripped it.

“The Firelord has already wiped airbenders from the face of the Earth, I won’t let it happen to waterbenders too.” Aang said it with a flat tone, as if he felt nothing at the mention of his people.”

Zuko shifted his glare from Katara and it softened when he met Aang’s eyes. Katara blinked at that. When Zuko had first landed on the deck while they were fleeing the Fire Nation, Aang had greeted him like an old friend. Katara still couldn’t understand it. It was Zuko who brought the Avatar to the Fire Nation. Even in the South Pole they had heard about it, the Avatar had been found. He was trapped in the Fire Nation, a prisoner. Hope drained from the world, from her grandmother, who died shortly after that.

And here he was, standing before them, no anger or resentment for Zuko. Katara looked at Zuko again and saw a sadness in the way he looked at Aang, and old sadness. Guilt.

“But the spirits are in the Fire Nation.” Yue said, bringing Katara back to their conversation.

“No,” Zuko said suddenly.

Katara stared at him, the others did too. He looked like he was realising something important, his eyes widened and Katara thought she saw a flash of a smile for a second.

“No, they’re not.”

~

Chapter Text

The cold air whipped at Zuko’s face, making him squint. Though he had quickly gotten used to the altitude, his eyes watered a little. He wondered if the Avatar’s sky bison remembered him at all, from that first day he had met Aang. The beast maintained a steady pace, and it felt almost as if they were simply floating, but Zuko knew they were travelling at a speed much faster than they could possibly manage at sea.

On the ship, Zuko had rushed to his uncle’s quarters as soon as it occurred to him that he might know where the spirits were. The location was a gamble, to be sure, but he knew he was right about Zhao.

Iroh listened to Zuko’s theory, blinking sleep out of his eyes, but when Zuko told him about his father’s announcement, the pieces seemed to click together. Only two people knew of the location of the Ocean and Moon spirits, and Zhao was one of them.

It took a few minutes to decide on a plan, Zuko remembered hearing his father mention something about supplies for Zhao’s project. On the map in the war room, there was a single marker on the island chain just North of the Fire Nation that used to be home to the Air Nomads. Zuko knew in his bones that if they would find Zhao before he did something to the spirits, it would be in those mountains.

Iroh had considered it, but refused to let Zuko go after Zhao on his own. It was Yue that spoke up then, surprising everyone. She would go with him, she wrapped a hand around the handle of one of the many daggers lining her belt beneath her coat when she said it. Still, Iroh shook his head, they would never reach the mountains in time, Zhao would kill the Moon spirit before they even got close. That’s when Aang made himself known, stepping into the room from where he was waiting in the hallway. He would go with them, a sky bison was much faster than a ship, after all.

Zuko crept toward the front of the massive saddle, where Aang sat, watching the dark horizon ahead. He had refused to sleep while Appa flew. The ocean below them glittered in the moonlight. It was a full moon, or almost, Zuko supposed it was strangely fitting, considering they were on their way to save the moon…

“It’s beautiful.” Zuko said, not knowing what else to say into the silence.

Aang glanced beside him, a small smile on his lips. “One of the things I missed the most, those years in the Fire Nation, the way the air smells different up here.”

There it was, that guilt that made Zuko’s breath catch. He sighed, not sure what he could say to make up for the four years he had stolen from Aang.

“I never said it,” he started, looking at the back of Aang’s tattooed head, “but I am sorry for what I took from you, I should have broken you out years ago- no…” Zuko shook his head, “I never should have taken you back to the Fire Nation. And now we’re paying for my mistake.”

Aang turned his way but didn’t quite look at him. Zuko couldn’t make out his face, shadows hiding his eyes a little.

“It broke something in me, I know that.” Aang sounded like he was talking about someone else, rather than something that happened to him. “But before then I was never able to make contact with the spirit world, with my past lives… When I reached my lowest point, that was when I was the most open to change.”

Zuko swallowed, he felt like he had hit a pretty low point himself.

“The truth is,” Aang went on, “I didn’t want to accept my destiny any more than you did.”

“What do you mean?” Zuko shuffled closer, leaning onto the frame of the saddle.

“I ran away from home. When the monks told me I was the Avatar, everyone started treating me different, which I guess couldn’t be helped… but then the monks wanted to send me away. They believed there was a war coming, and they were going to send me away from my home, from the people I cared about…”

Zuko listened, not saying anything. In the end, Aang lost everyone he cared about anyway, to time.

“They told me that, as the Avatar, my duty was to the world. I didn’t want to believe it then, I was selfish, and I let fear cloud my judgment. It’s because of my actions the airbenders are gone, and the Fire Nation has held a reign of tyranny for a hundred years.”

Aang looked at Zuko then, grey eyes empty of all feeling. There was none of the manic energy, the madness that Zuko had come to know.

“I am hardly innocent, Zuko. Maybe the years in prison were my penance for that mistake.”

“No.” Zuko shook his head again.

He refused to believe that. Zuko gripped the wooden handle.

“You were a child. You shouldn’t have had that much responsibility placed on you, the weight of it, it’s…” Zuko blew out a frustrated breath.

“You were a child too.” Aang’s eyes flicked to Zuko’s left eye.

Zuko stiffened and looked away. “Maybe. But so was Azula.”

That pain in his chest returned. He looked up to see Aang just looking at him now. The Avatar looked back out over the water, considering Zuko’s words.

“I feel your loss,” Aang said eventually, “she was your family. My family is gone too. But…”

Aang turned back, glancing to the rear of the saddle to Yue, asleep behind them.

“I also know there is a darkness in your family. Your bloodline carries a desire for power and control. Azula was filled with it, probably even as a child. Roku told me about your great grandfather, Sozin, his oldest friend. He was a brilliant child, a talented firebender, and an ambitious young Firelord. But Roku watched that ambition grow into a hunger for power.

“I never met Azula, but from what I knew of Sozin, of you and your father… From what little Yue told me,” Aang glanced back again, “she needed my help to make peace with what happened to her, with what Azula did to her. I guided her through meditations, still she would only talk about fragments… pieces of memories.” He looked back at Zuko, a familiar spark of righteous anger in his eyes. “If there was a time your sister was human, it was a very long time ago.”

Zuko wanted to be offended, wanted to be angry at Aang’s words, but couldn’t find it in himself to argue that fact. Azula had been out of reach for years, perhaps that had been his fault too, he could have pushed harder, proved he would have been there for her, supported her. But the truth was that the two years of his banishment weren’t just estranging for him. She bared the weight of their father’s ambitions, his expectations. Azula had always risen to meet them with a grace that Zuko had always mistook for ease. Zuko struggled all his life to earn his title as the prince of the Fire Nation, but while Zuko had the benefit of being Ozai’s only son, and heir to the throne, Azula spent every minute of her life training, studying, and following in Zuko’s shadow, never to reach the same level. It proved enough to break her, nothing more than an accessory, destined only to remain on the arm of the Firelord, even when Zuko would eventually rise to replace their father. She was better than him, smarter, faster, more vicious… and she would never have been crowned Firelord.

Zuko glanced over his shoulder at Yue’s sleeping form. The wind ruffled the fur of her coat, but she did not stir. Azula had tortured her, and their father had allowed it, he had only stopped her when it was Zuko that stood between her and Katara. She had threatened the Crowned Prince’s wife, and if there was one thing their father’s would not stand for, it was disrespect.

Zuko’s mind was cast back to that day, the fear that had surged at the thought of Azula hurting Katara, the paranoia that made it impossible to sleep at night, for fear that she would sneak into his room to murder Katara in her sleep. He remembered the guilt he had felt when he realised he had left her unguarded to break into the catacombs, the relief that was almost overwhelming when he found her unharmed. And yet she was far from defenceless. Zuko had thought the occasional frost that leapt from her fingers, an emotional reaction that he fought so hard to hide, to protect, was the extent of her ability, but the ice was merely an overflow of a tidal wave of power he now knew she kept locked tightly away. Azula’s monster was no match for the beast hidden beneath Katara’s skin.

~

Katara breathed out a sigh when she heard the timber boards of the deck creak behind her softly.

“Can I join you?”

“I guess.” She mumbled, not looking at the man who came to lean in the banister beside her.

Katara wondered how many heartfelt conversations happened at this spot on the ship. That, and attempted murders. She smirked a little at the look those men still gave her whenever she passed by.

“I thought I would see you when we boarded. But they told me you were busy.”

Katara scoffed and turned her back on the water without looking at her father. Hakoda straightened and watched her.

“I was.” She said it casually, but she couldn’t quite hide the undertone of frustration in her voice.

“Katara-”

“You know, it’s funny that you told me, all those years ago, that you had no choice, you needed to leave, to protect us, to defend us against the Fire Nation, but all it did was leave us defenceless.” Katara looked at him then. “All it did was leave me and Sokka to protect our people.”

She didn’t back down when pain crossed his features. A deep and heavy grief lay there, his mother and his son both gone, and he wasn’t there to protect them. Katara scoffed again at his sadness. He didn’t deserve it.

“You know what the funniest part is?” She asked, turning away as if admiring the starry sky. “I protected them. I built walls to keep the Fire Nation patrols from burning down our village. I kept our people fed. I stayed.”

Katara turned back and directed the full weight of her glare on the aging man in front of her.

“I am Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Not you.”

She felt ice beginning to crystallise on her shoulders, frost creeping up her neck and she closed her eyes. She forced a slow, steadying breath and looked up at Hakoda again.

“You left us. And now my brother is dead.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Hakoda cried out. “You think I don’t feel the pain of that mistake every day? When the Northern ships came to Wolf Cove, it was only possible because we drove the Fire Nation ships away. We couldn’t fend them off for long, we lost many of our people, but I thought at least you would be safe, at least our Northern brothers could help fight off the Fire Nation. Whatever that distraction cost us, even if it killed me, it would be worth that.”

“You knew.” Katara breathed, the shock temporarily dispersing the icy fury that was growing inside her.

“I knew.” Hakoda sounded tired. “I knew what they wanted, and I knew you would be married off to an Earth Kingdom noble… but-”

“But we never made it to the Earth Kingdom.” She finished for him.

Hakoda looked like he wanted to be sick. He gripped the banister with white knuckles.

“When I heard you had been taken and brought to the Fire Nation, married to the Firelord’s son… I thought-”

“He never touched me.”

Hakoda blinked at her, shock plain in his face.

“He tried to protect me,” Katara found herself looking down, a little embarrassed, “in the end, he wasn’t the monster.”

She felt that anger building again when she looked up at her father.

“I was.”

Hakoda frowned at her.

“I killed his sister,” Katara waited for the guilt to wash over her, but it only twisted slightly in her gut, “I murdered the Firelord’s daughter.”

Hakoda’s face changed then, surprise smoothing the concerned lines momentarily. Katara frowned.

“You’re no monster, daughter.”

Katara bristled at his affectionate tone, but a part of her couldn’t look away at his words.

“You’re a wolf, and you protected your own. You showed no fear.”

Katara blinked, and realised there were tears in her eyes.

“Katara,” Hakoda reached for her face, and Katara only stared as her father brushed a thumb over the tear that escaped, “you have been so strong, and I know you may never forgive me for leaving you, but I am so proud of you.”

Katara could no longer hold back the sob that came then, though her body shook with the effort. Hakoda moved closer and wrapped his arms around her. Her tears flowed freely when she caught the familiar smell of his leathers and furs. She felt like a little girl again, and Hakoda held her while she cried, rocking her gently.

~

Chapter Text

Zuko’s body refused to obey him, his arms were slow, sluggish to rise and the fire he summoned seemed to work against him rather than bend to his will. Katara easily knocked it aside, a whip made of water seizing both his hands. He fell to his knees and started up at her. She looked down and he did the same, only to find a huge shard of ice protruding from his chest.

Why? No sound escaped his lips but she seemed to hear the question anyway.

That same, sad expression filled her bright, deep blue eyes, reminding him of the last time he saw her in the palace, when they were attacked. She seemed almost remorseful when she reached a hand for his face. Zuko felt like his pierced heart still hammered away in his chest when she leaned in closer.

Zuko sucked in a breath as a stray icy breeze made him shiver. They were still flying, and he could see Aang still sitting, rod-straight in the saddle. Yue was beside him. Zuko didn’t move, still a little groggy from sleep. He didn’t want to think about the dream he was having, chasing the image of Katara from his mind. He shifted, trying to get comfortable again. The air was getting colder the further North they travelled.

“My mother believed it was a gift, but I think my father knew the truth.” Yue’s voice was soft.

Zuko closed his eyes as their conversation floated back to him.

“Maybe it was.” Aang said. “It might not have been intended as a trade, but it means you are more important to the Water Tribe than you think.”

Zuko didn’t know what they were talking about, but he knew that Yue had sought the Avatar’s guidance with her recovery. This was a personal conversation, he tried to ignore them.

“I always thought I was blessed, that my hair was a sign of it. Now I know I was given a greater duty, and I would give my life if it meant my people, my culture will survive.”

Zuko glanced up at the two of them again. Did Yue believe she needed to save the spirits because she was born a princess of the Water Tribe? Or was it something deeper? Not that Zuko could judge, he felt the weight of duty himself to right the wrongs the Fire Nation wrought on the rest of the world, the fate of his nation was in his hands. Even if he was once again banished from his home, he would fight to rebuild what it once stood for.

“What are they like?” Aang asked suddenly.

Yue thought for a moment. “The Ocean and Moon spirits chose to stay in the mortal world, their bond was so strong, and they keep the balance of the push and pull that allows waterbenders to do the same. Without one, the other has no counter, and the tides would cease to be.”

Yue looked out over the clouds below them. Zuko started to sit up, quietly.

“The koi the spirits chose to inhabit on this plane are beautiful, perfectly matched, and never breaking their constant flow. The oasis where my family kept them safe for generations is the warmest place in the North Pole. The spiritual energy is so strong there, you can feel it. It’s a perfect place to meditate…” she paused, sounding crestfallen all of a sudden, “was a perfect place.”

“We will restore it to the sanctuary it was. But first we need to find the spirits.”

Aang sounded more confident than Zuko felt. Suddenly this plan seemed flimsy at best, they may be looking in entirely the wrong place.

Without warning, they were all pulled down with a rush of air as the sky bison surged upwards. Zuko scrambled to his feet as they quickly levelled out and made his way carefully to the front.

“What’s going on? Where are we?” Zuko righted himself after another gust of wind made him sway.

Aang glanced at Zuko over his shoulder, a grim look on his face.

“The Western Air Temples.”

He looked back over the side of Appa’s head and Zuko saw what made him sound so serious. The temples were carved into the side of the steep mountain region that rose into the clouds. Latched to the ancient stone carvings like insects were lines and lines of Fire Nation metal. Zhao was here.

The temples had been colonised by a massive Fire Nation encampment. Zuko could make out the deep red of the balloons they must have flown in on. Ships lined the coast below. Aang guided Appa to the edge of the temples, to an unoccupied section.

~

Katara lay in her cot, listening to the sleeping breaths of the other Water Tribe crew whose cabin she shared. She couldn’t sleep, not after Yue and Zuko had left with the Avatar the night before. She thought of Zuko’s plan, it seemed brilliant, rational, and his uncle seemed to believe the same. Still, Katara couldn’t help the worry that stirred when she thought of Zuko with only Yue and Aang with him, the fear that they were heading directly into a trap. Not for the first time, Katara touched the wedding band on her finger. It was joined now by Zuko’s though it was a little loose. She twisted it easily, and eventually swapped it to her index finger so she wouldn’t drop it.

Katara didn’t know why she kept them. She didn’t hate Zuko, but he had made his resentment clear. He wouldn’t ever forgive her for his sister’s death. Katara found that she could bare the guilt of taking the other girl’s life, especially after the conversation with her father tonight, but the pain it caused Zuko would stay with her much longer, she feared.

The ship swayed, a little more roughly than usual and Katara shifted, listening. Panicked voices grew louder, sounding the alarm and she leapt to her feet. Her cabin mates started to rouse as well but Katara didn’t wait for them as she rushed out the door and took the steps to the deck two at a time.

“What’s happening?” She asked as she hurried to Iroh’s side.

He stood at the bow, but he was looking to the starboard side. The ship was turning sharply to the left and Katara followed Iroh’s gaze out to the water to their right. A black hulk of a ship had appeared at the horizon, headed straight towards them.

“The Fire Nation?” She breathed, but she already knew the answer.

The tell-tale smoke that rose from the top of the ship was a clear sign. They had been spotted. A horn blew in the distance, confirming their fears. Iroh tensed.

“A patrol, probably from Omashu, they must have heard word from the capital.”

Iroh turned and headed back to the centre of the deck, where Hakoda and the other warriors argued, glancing worriedly back to the ship in the distance.

“We can’t risk them telling the Fire Nation our location.” Hakoda said to Iroh as he came to stand beside them.

He spared a glance to Katara, who followed Iroh. She ignored the still-present urge to glare at her father, instead turned to see the rest of the crew as they gathered on the deck.

“I agree.” Iroh sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

Katara wondered if it took a little piece of his soul each time they stood against his own people. She felt a surge of admiration for the general, pity at his position, at what he had given up, but pride that he would stand and fight with them to make right what the Fire Nation had done to the world.

“We have few weapons on this ship.” Iroh glanced up at Hakoda.

“We don’t need weapons.” Katara stepped closer, a hand settling on Iroh’s arm. “We can defend the ship.”

She looked at her father, who seemed to want to protest, but someone came to stand beside her. It was one of the other waterbenders, the one who showed Katara how to push and pull the water to move the ship. She nodded at him and looked back to her father.

“Ready the other firebenders,” Iroh said to one of his soldiers.

The younger man nodded and hurried away.

“There are two earthbenders here.” Katara remembered seeing one of them toy with a small rock and the other smack it out of his hand when they boarded.

“Yes.” Iroh said, hope lighting up his face.

They may just stand a chance.

~

Zuko, Aang and Yue crept through the shadows, coming to crouch behind the smooth stone rail of a balcony. Looking over the edge, Zuko sighed at the mess of tents, worktables and machines. Zhao’s forces had set up camp just below them, though it looked as if they had spread through the halls of the grand building and hammered their machines into the walls of the temple. Zuko glanced beside him and saw a darkness settle over Aang. The Avatar’s fury caused a chill to settle over Zuko and he found himself looking away. He eyed the spread of the Fire Nation encampment.

“We need to find Zhao, only he knows where the spirits are. He’d keep them hidden from the rest of the soldiers. Somewhere private.”

Aang said nothing, but Zuko knew he was likely holding back a building rage that didn’t just belong to him. He thought he saw a flicker of light on those winding tattoos before Aang stiffened and loosed a sigh.

“We don’t need to find the general.” He pushed away from the balcony and stood.

Zuko crept back as well, Yue following him, and straightened as Aang went to the wall and calmly lowered himself to sit against it. Zuko frowned as Aang crossed his legs and took several steadying breaths.

“I can find the spirits, but I need your help.” Aang opened his eyes.

It was Yue Aang looked at, making Zuko blink in surprise. Yue moved past Zuko and immediately sat in front of Aang. She reached for his hands without a word and Aang took them, closing his eyes again. Zuko stifled the questions that came, shutting his mouth when Aang’s eyes and tattoos started to glow once more. Zuko almost jumped when he saw the same light glowing from Yue’s eyes when she opened them.

Zuko had never seen Aang have so much control over the Avatar state. In all the time he knew him, Aang had struggled to keep from slipping into those moments where Zuko would find himself talking to not one but every Avatar. Aang’s moods were so turbulent back then, Zuko continued to find himself wondering if this Aang was even the same boy he brought back to the Fire Nation four years ago.

The glow faded and Aang opened his eyes. Yue blinked at him, as if waking up. Aang looked at Zuko.

“You were right. The spirits are here.”

He got to his feet and Zuko stepped back as Aang returned to the balcony. They crouched behind it again and Aang pointed to a staircase across from them. It was a few floors below them but still some distance above the Fire Nation camp.

“They’re in a chamber that way, there aren’t any guard on that level, but we should be careful anyway.”

Zuko nodded. The three of them backed away from the balcony and started making their way around to the stairs.

~

Katara stood with the other waterbenders. They exchanged nervous glances as they waited for her signal. Katara looked over to the earthbenders, noticing the crates of rock they quickly hauled up to fight with. Firebenders also stood beside them, eyes on Iroh, who stood at the head of their larger group. Katara’s mind travelled back to Zuko, suddenly remembering the warmth of his delicate bending, when he stood between her and Azula in the palace. She shook her head and looked up at the moon. She hoped he was safe.

“Ready yourselves.” Iroh called out.

Katara straightened and looked back out over the water as the Fire Nation ship continued its unfaltering approach. Suddenly the shadow of the ship bulged, and a collective gasp echoed across the deck as the single Fire Nation ship became two. The darkened silhouettes came into focus and a shudder of fear went through them all.

“Hold your ground.” Katara called out to steady the other waterbenders.

The ships drew closer.

“Now!” She yelled over her shoulder.

Her benders started pulling and pushing. With their constant, shifting movements, they began to build a wave between the ships. One, they could simply topple, but two would be difficult. Slowly the wave built and hope bloomed in Katara’s chest as the first ship wobbled against the bucking waves that rippled out.

There was a bang and Katara barely managed to hold her concentration as a massive ball of fire hurtled towards them from the metal ship. Gritting her teeth, she and the other waterbenders continued their slow movements as the earthbender brothers, she had learned that their names were Chin and Yun, grunted with a combined effort and raised a wall of rock from their crates to shield the ship from the fireball. It bounced with a terrible crashing sound off their wall and splashed harmlessly into the ocean.

Katara turned her full attention back to the wave they were building. The lead ship continued its direct path to intercept them but she eyed the trailing patrol ship as it circled around beside them.

“Iroh!” She called over her shoulder, jerking her head back to the other ship.

Iroh nodded, he had noticed. Katara glanced between the lead ship and the encroaching one. With a cry, she poured all her fury into her bending, and with the help of the other waterbenders, they summoned a beast of a wave. The led ship was knocked sideways, tipping dangerously. Water splashed over the top of the ship and the funnel spewing smoke into the sky coughed. Distant cries and shouts reached their ears and Katara grinned. The ship wasn’t going anywhere for the moment. They turned back to the other patrol and her heart sank. It had curved around beside them and was now lining up on their port side. Iroh yelled a command to his fighters and Katara waved a hand signal to her own. The earthbenders were already pelting the Fire Nation crew with rocks, and the rest of the crew readied for the imminent boarding.

~

Aang led them to the stairway quickly and efficiently. Before long, they were standing outside the chamber he described. Sure enough the spirits swam around each other within a glass container on a platform in the centre of the room. Yue rushed forward, headed for the spirits. Someone inside stepped into view, coming to stand between the three of them and the spirits. Zuko flew forward and yanked Yue back as Zhao raised his eyes to consider the intruders.

“I’m not surprised that the Water Tribe would try to stage some kind of heist eventually, but to find the Crowned Prince of the Fire Nation at my door.” Zhao’s eyes darkened as he stared down Zuko.

He knew. Zuko was sure of it, Zhao knew he had turned on them back at the palace. The look of pure disgust Zhao gave him at the sight of Yue by his side made Zuko’s skin crawl. Aang stepped around Zuko, levelling Zhao with a calculating stare. Zhao’s face paled when he beheld the Avatar standing in front of him. Whatever he had expected, waiting here for someone to come, it wasn’t him.

Aang took another step closer and Zhao balked. He raised a hand over the spirits, a ball of fire appearing above them in warning. Aang paused and Zuko felt Yue strain against his grip. None of them moved.

“Zhao,” Zuko held up a hand, “don’t.”

He knew his voice was pleading, Zhao’s answering sneer was enough to make Zuko drop his hand. For as long as Zuko had known the man, his original opinion of him remained. He was proud, brutal and ambitious. He also liked to be the smartest one in the room. Zuko recalled his uncle explaining to him before they left the ship, that once, he had managed to convince Zhao to see reason, but only by giving him an opportunity to gain something greater.

“You knew we’d come here.” Zuko tried, still scrambling for something to offer Zhao, some kind of bargain. “How?”

Zhao shook his head. “I’m not letting you stall for time, Prince Zuko.” He smirked. “But I will offer you a chance to earn back your honour.” He glanced down at the koi, still swimming, but a little agitated now. “Kill the moon spirit, and I will tell the Firelord you truly have the Fire Nation’s best interest at heart. He’ll forgive you, welcome you back with open arms.”

Zuko’s stomach dropped. Yue whirled on him, jerking her arm out of his grip. She gripped one of her knives and raised it to throw at Zhao. Zuko put a hand out to stop her, glaring at Zhao. There was a time he wanted nothing more than his father’s forgiveness, his love. But he knew there was no such thing when it came to his father.

“Even if I believed that for a second,” Zuko kept his voice as level as he could, “I wouldn’t kill an innocent spirit, I wouldn’t destroy an entire culture, just to gain favour with the Firelord, just to add my name to the history books next to the other murderers and genocidists.”

Zhao’s eyes flared at that. He wanted to be remembered, immortalised. This was his chance to live forever through history. Zuko had never realised the extent of Zhao’s ambition, but he saw it now, on the crazed expression that appeared for a fraction of a second as Zhao looked back at the koi. Aang took a small step closer, tentatively.

“General, listen to me.”

Zuko swallowed, listening to the reason reason into Aang’s voice, he was trying not to sound too commanding.

“Let them go. If you do this, it will only further upend the balance of the world. You don’t know what this will unleash.”

“He’s right,” Zuko said, “Zhao…”

Zhao only threw an incredulous look back at Zuko.

“I don’t take orders from a traitor.”

Zuko yelled at Zhao to stop but none of them were fast enough to stop the stream of fire that shot from Zhao’s palm. The water in the container sizzled and the world went dark.

~

Katara dropped to her knees on the deck, the strength going out of her in an instant. She snapped her head up to the sky and cried out at the darkness that greeted her. The moon was gone. Zuko had failed.

The earthbenders and firebenders continued to fight, even as the Fire Nation troops leapt onboard and the clash of weapons rang in the air. The first ship had made its repairs now and began to circle closer again. The waterbenders were no longer able to keep them away.

Katara struggled to get to her feet and cast about, dazed. The rest of the waterbenders were equally weakened. She didn’t know if the rest of the crew knew what happened but if they did, they had little choice but to keep fighting. The Fire Nation pressed in, and Katara only felt a hollow sense of loss, like something deep inside of her had just vanished. She could only stare as the fighting went on. Everything around her seemed to slow, cast in a grey light, as if none of it was real.

~

Aang let out a cry and Zhao was struck with the force of a cyclone. Dodging and rolling to the side, Zhao rushed away from them, racing for a lever beside him. Zuko jerked as sirens went off, echoing throughout the temple. Light glowed in the corner of his vision and he turned to see Aang slipping into the Avatar state. Yue was gone, flying at Zhao with a flurry of swipes and kicks, knives palmed. Zuko stepped forward to help her but paused, hearing voices rising outside. The shouts and commands grew louder and he caught Aang’s eye. The Avatar had closed his eyes against the glow, but his tattoos still flickered as he turned his colourless stare on Zuko.

“I’ll handle the soldiers,” he said, his voice mixed with a thousand others, “keep Zhao busy.”

Zuko nodded and rushed forward, not waiting to be told a second time. Yue screamed and swung her knife in a savage arc at Zhao. He cried out as blood flicked to the side. Before she could land another strike, Zhao blasted her with a fireball that sent her dodging to the side. For all her skill and training, Zuko could see the fire sparked a fear in her that she still couldn’t overcome. Zhao didn’t miss her momentary hesitation and readied another blast in her direction.

Fire shot from Zuko’s own hands, and Zhao was thrown to the side. His strike missed Yue by a hair. Zhao rolled away, shaking the dizziness off and snarling at Zuko. Zuko deepened his stance and launched forward, flames shooting from his feet as he kicked towards Zhao.

~

Aang didn’t turn and face the guards that drew closer to the chamber, instead he ducked around the others and flew straight for the koi. He rode on a ball of air, crossing the room in less than a second. The Moon spirit floated to the surface, its counterparty circling frantically below. Aang breathed slowly and checked the barrier to his past lives. He reached only for Raava, slipping seamlessly into the Avatar state. The spirit hummed through his body, sharing her power, and Aang didn’t even need to communicate the situation to the spirit that shared his soul, she already understood what he intended to do.

Aang reached a tendril of consciousness towards the remaining spirit in the room, the Ocean, and guided its corporeal form over to his own. It was only in the Avatar state that Aang could bend the other elements, and he lifted a ball of water from the container, carrying the Ocean spirit towards him. He brought the koi to his chest and a pulse went through the building, the floor rumbling beneath them.

Outside, the soldiers screamed. The combined power of the Avatar and the Ocean spirit, both filled with rage and grief called a hurricane to sweep the mechanical infestation from the temple.

~

Katara stared at the clouds that suddenly gathered, the sea was quickly becoming unruly, making its own waves that battered the ships without discrimination. The crew clung to the ship, still doing their best to fend off the Fire Nation soldiers that were quickly realising the same thing. Katara shook herself, muscles still feeling like they had turned to lead, but rushed to the side of the ship. Below them, growing between the three ships in the pitch black water, a huge whirlpool had appeared, pulling all of them deeper as it expanded.

~

Zuko growled, unleashing the pain and rage of the last few days onto the general. His swords were drawn now, and Zuko felt the familiar burn in his muscles as he swung them in tandem. Zhao was no longer a young man, but his skill as a fighter had not dulled or faded. Between Zuko’s blades and bending, and Yue’s own attacks, Zhao held his own.

Zuko swung for his head but Zhao ducked and pivoted. Yue appeared behind him but he kicked out and she fell backwards. Her head hit the edge of a pillar and she crumpled, stunned. Zuko yelled and ducked low. He kicked out and knocked Zhao off his feet. The general’s back hit the hard floor, winding him briefly. Zuko wasted no time, firing a shot beside his head.

Zhao cringed and opened his eyes to glare at Zuko, holding another threatening fist over Zhao’s head.

“Yield.” Zuko demanded.

Zhao huffed, considering him. That pride and loathing was still on his face.

Yue groaned nearby, and Zuko glanced up long enough to see her blink and slowly try to get up. Zhao shifted beneath him and Zuko sucked in a breath at the malicious smile that he turned towards her.

Yue’s eyes widened as Zhao raised his arm and summoned a fireball before Zuko could react. The world seemed to stop spinning. Zuko thought he yelled at Zhao to stop, but he didn’t hear it. He only saw Yue’s terrified face as fire bloomed between them. Zuko’s arms moved automatically, he felt power pulse through him, and suddenly the fire disappeared. Zuko slowly looked down and saw the general’s slack expression. That greed and hunger for power that always lit his eyes was gone. Zuko could only hear the blood rushing in his ears as he looked at the charred mess of flesh that was once the man’s chest. Zhao was dead.

Yue coughed and Zuko’s mind began moving again. He hurried over to where she was struggling to her knees. He wrapped an arm around her middle and carefully lifted her to her feet. She winced and shivered. There was blood in her hair, the only splash of colour in it, but she seemed otherwise ok. Zuko relaxed a little. He looked for one more second at the scene before him before turning away. He led them to where Aang sat, cross legged and still as a statue. Beside him, the container had only the burned koi, the other fish gone. Zuko looked at Aang again, the ocean spirit floated in his lap, both of them glowing with spiritual energy. Thunder boomed outside.

Yue slipped away and Zuko turned as she sank to the floor beside the lifeless koi. They both looked at the moon spirit, dead in the remaining water of the container. Zuko glanced helplessly at Yue who knelt beside it and cried. He all but fell as he sat beside her, not knowing what to do, what to say. He looked at Aang again, listening to the distant sounds of the storm and screaming continue beyond the walls of the room.

Yue gasped and Zuko looked back at her. She wiped the tears from her face and he watched as she seemed to collect herself. Zuko’s eyes burned, wishing he could do something to help. He wrapped his arm around Yue again and, to his surprise, she leaned into him. He suddenly felt so, so tired. Yue managed a dry, humourless laugh before looking at Zuko.

“It’s alright.” She says, tears continuing to roll down her face.

Zuko frowned at her, wondering what she could possibly be talking about. Yue pulled out of his grip gently.

“It will be, I promise.” She leaned closer to the container and put her hands on the edge of the glass. “I know what I have to do.”

Zuko’s pulse leapt at her resigned tone. “What are you talking about?”

Yue gave him a sad look. “It’s what I was born to do.” She glanced at Aang and the Ocean spirit.

Zuko didn’t have time to say anything else before Yue placed her hands over the empty vessel the Moon once resided in.

“What-” Zuko squinted at the light that appeared then, beneath Yue’s hands.

He held a hand up against the sudden brightness and blinked when it disappeared just as fast. Yue’s shoulders slumped and she sighed.

“Yue?” Zuko leaned closer.

Yue wobbled and Zuko quickly caught her as she suddenly fell backwards. He looked back at the container and a happy laugh escaped him. The Moon spirit wriggled and started swimming around again.

“Yue! You did it, how-”

When Zuko looked back down at Yue’s relaxed face his throat tightened. She wasn’t moving.

~

Katara gasped when light suddenly filled her world again. There was a collective sound of joy around her and she looked up. The moon had returned to the sky, as huge and full and bright as before. A bliss she couldn't explain surged through her veins, her bending had been given back to her.

The whirlpool beside them seemed to waver, slowing. They had been dragged into it and had begun to orbit the outside of it, but that was nothing compared to the fate of Fire Nation ships. They had been drawn into its centre and collided against each other, they were dangerously close to sinking.

The whirlpool slowed, and Katara barked an order to the other waterbenders. They flew to the sides of the ship and hauled the creaking hull from the weakening current. The Moon seemed to glow brighter and Katara glanced up again.

~

The Ocean looked up at its other half, shining like a jewel in the sky, where it had just been a bed of nothingness, broken up by the dim sparkle of stars. Relief, joy and love broke through the heavy blanket of grief. La dropped the metal ship they were holding and Aang realised what had changed. The boy and the spirit both felt their anger withering, and La began to melt back into the sea. Aang gave the moon a sad, knowing smile, and let La lead him back to their physical bodies.

~

The storm was dying, and the whirlpool rose, shallowing. The ship broke free of the current and Katara felt a sigh of relief go through her that she wasn’t sure belonged to her. Judging from the faces of the other waterbenders, staring at the moon, she wasn’t the only one. Whatever had happened, whatever Zuko had done, the moon was alive.

~

Zuko looked up at Aang when the younger boy stood, the Avatar’s glow still filling his eyes and tattoos. He directed the ball of water that held the Ocean spirit back to the container in front of Zuko, where the Moon spirit now swam. Reunited, the two spirits circled each other once more.

The light faded from Aang’s eyes and they returned to their normal warm grey. Zuko followed Aang’s gaze back to Yue’s unconscious form. She was still warm. Zuko’s grip on Yue tightened as a wave of pain rose again in his chest. He didn’t bother to hide his tears. Yue had deserved more than this, after everything she suffered in the Fire Nation, after what she endured to protect her people, after sacrificing her very life to save them… she deserved to live.

“Zuko.”

Zuko dragged his eyes away from the girl who seemed impossibly small in his arms. Aang had bent down to his level, a hand on his shoulder.

“She knew she might have to do this. It was always her duty to protect the Moon spirit, it’s what she was born for.” Aang’s eyes were sad, but there was a pained acceptance in the hard line of his jaw. “We all have our part to play in this war. This was hers.”

Zuko shook his head, turning back to Yue. He touched her face. She looked peaceful, as if she were asleep, but through her coat, he could feel her heartbeat slowing. She was still breathing softly, but her spirit, the Moon’s spirit, was gone. There was a final breath, and both Aang and Zuko watched as all that was left of Yue faded, the warmth that had lingered in her body began to fade away as well.

~

Chapter Text

Aang and Zuko flew through the night, neither of them sleeping, to the North Pole. Thanks to his sky bison, they arrived in a day. Appa fell asleep not long after they landed, as Zuko was inclined to do, but the sight of hundreds of Water Tribe people staring at him in fear quickly chased away any thoughts of sleep.

The Avatar, on the other hand, was revered. The chief, Arnook, who had returned to the North after his daughter had been taken, thanked him for returning the spirits to their home and for keeping them safe. When Aang explained that it was Yue, his daughter, that saved the Moon spirit, the chief’s face crumpled. He nodded, as if he had guessed as much, and asked if they had brought his daughter home.

Aang had used the Avatar state to encase Yue’s body in ice, sculpting a sealed coffin that was as clear as glass. He had used his own airbending to remove the oxygen from the inside, preserving her. Yue was taken to the palace, the procession followed by tears and lamenting cries. Zuko’s heart felt like it had been crushed. Yue was so loved by her people, she was a great leader, and carried out her duty to them to the last. If any of them had seen the scars she bore for them, Zuko would likely never leave the city alive. So he kept silent, staying close to Aang’s side.

Aang requested they rest for a night before returning to the resistance. Arnook graciously accepted and welcomed him and, begrudgingly, Zuko to his home. Zuko slept fitfully, barely ate, and only really realised his senses had been on high alert when they were airborne again. Exhaustion forced him into a heavy sleep not long after the Water Tribe was out of view, but even there he was not safe from the unwelcome memories that returned to him in his dreams.

~

The doors to the huge council chamber opened with a muffled boom. The Avatar strode in and all eyes followed him as he headed directly to the table where the White Lotus was holding their meeting. Katara’s eyes travelled beyond though, to the sullen face that trailed behind him. Zuko kept his gaze lowered. His mouth was a hard line and he kept at a distance as Aang approached them.

“The spirits are safe.” Aang reported, and everyone at the table visibly relaxed. “They’ve been returned to the North Pole, the Fire Nation has retreated.”

Yue must have stayed behind, Katara realised, with her family, to ensure the spirits’ protection. When she looked back at Zuko, however, she frowned. He ignored the questioning glances that came his way and sat wordlessly beside Iroh. His uncle went to rest a hand on his shoulder and Katara saw him momentarily flinch. Something was wrong.

“What happened to the Moon spirit?” One of the Earth Kingdom men asked.

“Zhao attacked the spirits,” Aang answered when Zuko said nothing, “but Yue-” Aang glanced at Zuko, “-managed to save the Moon spirit.”

Zuko suddenly stood from the table, his chair scraping on the floor. Katara jolted at the sound, and everyone stared as Zuko left without another word.

After several seconds of awkward silence, Katara stood as well, ignoring the questioning looks pointed her way. She followed after Zuko, ducking out of the huge doors. He had already slipped out of sight but Katara heard footsteps moving away to her left and followed them. She turned a corner and saw him disappear through another set of doors. She wondered how he knew his way around so well, she was still getting lost and she had been there several days longer than him. He and Aang had arrived late in the night, Katara guessed the first place Zuko had gone was straight to bed. It made sense that if he had managed to learn one route in this place, it was this one.

Katara hurried to catch up but Zuko closed the door behind him. Katara stopped, hesitating now. One of the last things Zuko had said to her was that he wished he had never met her. Katara closed her eyes. There was something wrong, she knew that. Something happened with the spirits, they weren’t just attacked, the Moon was gone. Something about the way Zuko stormed out of the room, something that passed between him and the Avatar when Aang mentioned Yue. Katara opened the door.

Zuko was sitting on the edge of the large, square bed on the other side of the room. His head was in his hands, elbows planted on his knees. He didn’t look up when Katara entered, which worried her even more. She stood by the door for a moment but when he didn't say anything she took several slow steps forward.

“Zuko?”

“Go away.”

Katara paused again. He still didn’t look up, but his voice was weak, tired. She tried again.

“What happened?”

“I said go away.” Zuko’s shoulders seemed to slump even more.

“Something happened up there, with the spirits.”

“Katara…” He groaned softly.

Katara ignored him and drew closer. “Zuko, tell me-”

“Katara please!”

Katara stopped in front of him. He was finally looking at her. His amber eyes were rimmed with red, he hadn’t slept. There was pain in his face, different from before. This was something else.

“Where is Yue?” Katara demanded in a hushed voice, suddenly terrified of the answer.

“Gone.” Zuko’s eyes held hers when he said it, the word so tight with emotion it seemed to hurt him just to shape it.

Katara’s heart thudded so loudly she thought he might be able to hear it. As it was, her pulse was all she could hear until she took a breath.

“No.” She whispered.

Yue couldn’t be dead, she couldn’t be.

“Zhao burned the Moon spirit, he killed it. Yue brought it back, I don’t know how.” Zuko shook his head and looked down again.

Katara’s own eyes welled with tears and she squeezed them shut. She remembered that for a painfully long moment, the moon had vanished, along with her bending, and suddenly it had returned to the sky by some miracle. But it wasn’t a miracle at all. Zuko went on.

“Yue gave her life to save it, and we brought her back to the North with the spirits. She’s gone, Katara.”

Katara blinked down at Zuko, he was staring at his hands, as if picturing Yue lying in them. She imagined him holding her as she died, the pain it caused her made it hard to breathe.

“I killed him.” He said suddenly.

Katara stared at him.

“Zhao.”

Zuko’s hands turned to fists. He looked up at her and suddenly the pieces began to fit into place. Understanding dawned on her, not in revelation, but with a deep sadness. This was why he hadn’t spoken, even to his uncle. It wasn’t just sorrow for Yue that caused him to draw away. It was guilt.

~

Zuko looked at Katara, really looked. He saw the regret there, the sadness that he knew mirrored his own. The pain in his chest was too much now, he searched her face for something, anything to prove that he was right about her, that she was a cold-blooded killer, a monster. But he couldn't, and now he knew that he was a monster too.

“He would have killed Yue,” Zuko murmured, “I stopped him. But it didn’t matter, in the end. She-”

Zuko’s voice caught and he held his breath, fighting to push away the images that came then. He felt hands on his face and opened his eyes to find Katara standing directly in front of him. He looked up at her, wondering what happened to the anger that burned in hist chest every time he thought of her. It wasn’t there now.

“If you hadn’t done it, Zhao would have killed Yue and the Moon would still be gone. You saved her. You saved us.” Katara’s eyes were bright, her face taut with desperation.

“How do I live with it?” Zuko breathed, his eyes burning. “I ended a human being’s life.”

Katara faltered. Her hands shook slightly and Zuko felt a jolt of anxiety at the pained look on her face now.

“I don’t know.” She whispered it.

Zuko let out a shuddering breath. Katara started to pull away and the cold air that filled the space she filled a moment before sent a rush of panic through Zuko’s body. He shot to his feet and grabbed at her, desperate to stay in this moment, this lone island in the endless sea of grief that threatened to drown him. Before he knew what he was doing, Zuko’s hands were buried in Katara’s thick hair and his mouth was on hers.

~

Katara gasped, her spine stiffening as Zuko blurred into motion in front of her. One moment, he seemed so fragile in her hands, so broken, and the next he was a wall of heat and need that burned through her own body, through their kiss. Her mind spun, caught off guard and off balance, and the feeling of Zuko’s lips on hers, his hands moving from her head to her neck, chased all rational thought from her mind.

His hands trailed down her body and Katara found herself leaning into the touch. She might have made a noise, maybe another gasp or a moan, whatever it was only spurred Zuko on. Katara felt Zuko’s arms around her and then in the next second she was falling. Her back hit the soft bed and she gasped again. A strange kind of nervousness made her shiver. Zuko was there before she had a chance to breathe, his mouth returning to hers and she distantly heard herself whimper as his muscled body pressed down on hers.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

The voice came from the other side of the room and they both froze. Zuko twisted to look at the Avatar who stood in the doorway, not looking sorry at all. In fact, a glint of smugness flashed in his eyes.

Katara’s face burned. The moment Zuko shifted off her, she slipped off the bed and straightened her clothes. Again Aang was surveying her, not judging but he seemed somewhat unsurprised. With as much dignity as she could manage, Katara hurried out of the room, avoiding looking at either of them.

~

Zuko put one foot in front of the other until he didn’t have to think about it to move. Shame, guilt and a weird kind of relief all muddied the waters of his mind as he slowly followed Aang down the hallway. After a moment, Aang slowed and came to walk beside Zuko.

“I thought I should step in before you did something you might regret.”

Zuko blinked. Did he regret it? Something sharp and persistent needled at his mind that Katara had killed Azula. But that knowledge no longer drove a knife through his gut at the site of her. In fact, now that there was blood on his own hands…

They walked for a few more seconds before Zuko realised Aang was waiting for him to respond.

“It’s fine.” He managed, not looking up.

Aang stopped and Zuko turned to him then.

“I’ve been mad, Zuko. I know what it’s like to want to give myself over to that pull, to shut it out, the pain. I also have countless memories of battles and war and loss, none of which I asked for.”

Zuko looked at the boy in front of him. He was barely sixteen, he guessed, and Zuko remembered the joyful, optimistic boy from the ice. There was an agelessness to him now. Whatever had happened after Zuko opened his cell, Aang had found something to keep him tethered, to keep him sane.

“Why are you telling me this?” Zuko asked, shaking his head.

“I guarantee that whatever it is that’s eating you up inside is not something I haven't heard before. Still, it was no small thing that happened in the temple, disregarding the pain it brought you will only cause it to grow stronger.”

Zuko felt the emotion surge up to his throat again and he gasped. No, he raked his hands through his hair. Even if the act of killing proved to be irrevocably damaging to his soul, Zuko did not deserve to burden Aang, another victim of his mistakes.

“I won’t complain about my lot, not after everything I’ve done to you.” Zuko’s voice sounded strained to his own ears.

“None of that matters,” Aang said angrily and Zuko drew in a shaky breath. “How you feel, what happened to me, it’s irrelevant.”

Zuko could only frown, no energy to argue, to question Aang. He kept going.

“There is more at stake than just our lives, our souls. You are the heir to the throne, Zuko. Banished or not, what do you think will happen when this war is over? The Fire Nation needs a leader, when the time is right, you need to go back.”

Zuko stared.

“You can’t take the throne if you let yourself drown in that madness. You already know what happens to members of your family that lose sight of themselves.”

Azula. Zuko felt the anger rising at the mention of his sister, but not for her death. The memory of that glow in her eyes when the fires she set would spread, the laughter. When he found her ready to burn Katara alive…

“How do I keep sight of it then?” Zuko lowered a glare at Aang. “How to I stop from losing myself?”

Aang straightened, calm straightening his features. “Find something to hold onto. A purpose or a feeling, a memory, a person… something that reminds you what’s important.”

Zuko sighed, his body heavy. He was so tired.

“Will the White Lotus kill my father?” Zuko asked after a moment.

“No.” Aang’s answer was flat, certain, and Zuko looked at him. “The White Lotus will organise the attack, but if they strike down the Firelord, the Fire Nation will only see it as brother killing brother to gain power. It will only lead to more war, more unrest and the balance will never be restored. But if the Avatar defeats the Firelord, and a new Firelord rises to power, a direct descendent, as your laws dictate, your culture is preserved, and the end of Ozai’s reign will be remembered in history as the Avatar restoring balance to the world.”

Zuko tried to process that, his mind moving too slowly.

“You’ll do it?” He asked. “You’ll kill the Firelord?”

Aang gave him a knowing smile. “There are more ways to remove a threat than killing it.”

~

Chapter Text

The house the White Lotus stayed in was massive, elegant, and obviously belonged to a very wealthy family. It wasn’t until they had been there for a day or two that Zuko thought to ask where they were. Aang chuckled and told him that they were in a city called Gaoling. The house belonged to one of the most influential families that lived there, historically a patron to many artisans and scholars over the years.

Toph was the young daughter of this family, and, to everyone’s surprise, had taken up the mantle in her father’s stead. It was after an attack by the Fire Nation, in an attempt to take over the small city of Gaoling in the same fashion that Omashu was overtaken, that Toph’s father had died, taken to his bed with an illness of his heart. The attack had been well-planned by the Fire Nation, Gaoling was a useful location in terms of trade and transport, and they had the numbers to succeed, had it been any other city. But Gaoling was home to the Earth Rumble, a secret underground tournament known only to the people of this small city, but over the years, rumour had attracted some of the most ferocious earthbenders in the kingdom. And, by age twelve, Toph Beifong was the reigning, undefeated champion.

It was rumoured that it had been broken her father's heart when at fourteen, his daughter, a slight, supposedly delicate girl, had refused to marry so as to have someone to run the house when her parents passed and protect her. Another theory had been that, during the attack, he had been shocked so badly when she revealed herself to be the most talented earthbending fighter ever seen, and with the help of the other powerful earthbenders in the city, had successfully driven out the Fire Nation within a day. The truth was more likely that it was an old fear, a worry that had haunted her parents since Toph’s birth, that had weakened Lao Beifong’s heart over the years. Because Toph, for all her talent and fearlessness, was blind.

“Wider, Twinkle Toes, you’ll blow away in the breeze with that stance.”

Aang frowned at Toph. “How can you tell my stance isn’t wide enough?”

Toph didn’t even turn to face him, she just slid her foot backwards suddenly and Aang felt the ground beneath him shift violently. Aang’s whole body pitched to the side and he was sitting in the dirt before he knew it.

“You can see through earthbending, can’t you?” Aang asked Toph after their first training session.

Their host hadn’t so much offered to teach the Avatar earthbending as herded him outside that morning. It was the second time he had seen her, the first being when he had found the White Lotus in the Earth Kingdom after leaving Guru Pathik.

“Obviously,” Toph grumbled, “I don’t know how other earthbenders can’t sense the world around them like I can… they just need to… listen.”

They had stopped, halfway between the sparring arena and the house. Aang liked Gaoling. Here, he didn’t have to hide who he was. There was no Fire Nation here. People passed by with a smile and bowed to him. It wasn’t until they came to the arena to train that Aang realised that they were also bowing to Toph.

“Can you teach me?” Aang asked.

“I don’t know, Twinkle Toes,” she smiled, “can a person be taught to listen? Besides, you’re never going to be able to sense the vibrations in the earth if you keep hoping around all the time. We need to make your stance more solid.”

Aang smiled. He liked Toph.

~

Katara stopped in her tracks when she saw that someone else already had the same idea as her. Pakku, one of the Grand Lotuses, stood by the banks, his stance low and shifting, a bubble of water flowing between his hands. He caught sight of her approaching and smoothly returned the water to the pond beside him. Katara tensed. She hadn’t had a chance to practice at all since the ship, and to be perfectly honest, after her shifts propelling the boat forward and then the battle with the Fire Nation scouts on the Earth Kingdom’s Southern coast, she usually collapsed in her bunk at the end of the day, exhausted.

“Princess,” Pakku nodded politely by way of greeting.

Katara bristled. “I’m not a princess.”

Pakku cocked his head to the side. “Of course.”

“I came to practice,” she said stiffly.

“By all means.”

Pakku held out a hand and made space beside the pond. He went back to his repetitive flowing exercise. Katara awkwardly took up the spot nearby and tried to copy his semi-crouched stance. She summoned a similar ball of water from the pond and tried to remember the exercises she had been taught on the Northern Water Tribe ship when she first left the South Pole.

“You have a lot of power, surprising with such poor technique.”

Katara dropped the water, the urge to defend herself shooting up her spine at the words.

“What did you just say?”

A memory, of another waterbender, another time, suddenly came to mind. She remembered a young guard, who said something similar to her. She turned to the old waterbender now. Pakku considered her, frowning at her reaction.

“Your technique is terrible, by all accounts you shouldn’t have that much control in your bending, yet I’ve heard you held your own in the fight outside of Chin.”

Katara had no words. He was right of course, but she really didn’t like to hear it.

“I hardly had anyone to teach me proper technique, since the Northern Water Tribe cut off contact with the South years ago.” Her voice was threaded with resentment.

Pakku said nothing to this. He considered her for another second before lowering himself to sit on the bank. Katara remained standing, glaring at the old man.

“Lower your stance, and breathe through the movements,” Pakku said without looking at her.

Katara’s nostrils flared at his demanding tone, but when Pakku said nothing else and simply stared out onto the water, she took a slow breath to calm herself. Feeling the embarrassment warm her cheeks, Katara did as he said and focused on shifting her movements back and forth like she saw him doing. The water seemed more pliant when she did and she felt a jab of bitterness that his advice was helpful. Her muscles soon began to burn, and she found she could only hold the lower stance for so long. When she dropped the water somewhat clumsily back into the pond Pakku nodded and finally looked back at her. Panting a little, Katara practically collapsed onto the bank beside him. Though her body ached a little, and sweat trickled down her neck, something inside her felt lighter.

“You are a fast learner.” Pakku nodded appreciatively.

“I had to be.” Katara huffed out.

“Traditionally, women in our tribe were forbidden from learning waterbending combat.”

Katara’s head whipped towards him at that.

“Our female waterbenders were regarded as healers. They learned to mend.” Pakku spared a glance at Katara. “They used the flow of energy to treat injuries and illnesses, rather than fight.”

It took a second for Katara to get control of her anger long enough to pay attention to his word choice.

“Were?” She asked as calmly as possible.

Pakku nodded.

“In recent years, we had little choice but to teach everyone, man, woman or child, to defend themselves. Healers were too valuable to risk being defenseless in the event of a raid. It was Princess Yue that advocated most strongly for them to be taught to protect themselves and others. She was right, of course, especially when Fire Nation attacks became more frequent. I taught her to fight, for many years. Perhaps it was the privilege of being the Chief’s daughter, but I made an exception for her long ago. Though she wasn’t a bender, she had the spirit of one.”

Katara felt the familiar pang in her chest at the mention of Yue. Pakku’s face seemed to crumble a little too.

“I saw Yue fight,” Katara said, “she was strong, even after what she went through.”

Pakku nodded and glanced at Katara again. He frowned at something lower.

“My necklace…”

“What-” Katara’s hand rose to the stone at her throat.

“I made it. For…” Pakku suddenly looked at Katara’s face again, searching for something. “Kanna,” he finally breathed.

Katara blanched. “My grandmother?” Her hand tightened around the necklace.

Pakku suddenly looked shocked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“You proposed to my grandmother?” Katara felt a familiar lump of pain rise in her throat.

Pakku swallowed. “Yes.” His eyes never left Katara’s. “You look just like her.”

Katara couldn’t help the sharp breath she took at that, cursing her own body for betraying her as tears welled in her eyes. Pakku seemed similarly caught by unwelcome memories.

“I heard about the raids,” he tried, his voice unsteady, “in the South, but I always wondered…”

Katara shook her head, her grip on her grandmother’s betrothal necklace tightening. Pakku seemed to deflate, as if Katara had just ripped something from inside him. Perhaps she did.

~

Zuko never admitted it to his uncle, but he loved training. He loved the distraction of moving he whole body, straining every muscle, to the point of exhaustion. He didn’t like fighting, purposefully injuring someone else, especially for the enjoyment of others. There were other reasons he hated the tradition of Agni Kai, but that was one of them. Training, on the other hand, hurt no one.

“Flawless,” a familiar voice called from the edge of the courtyard, “not a hair out of place.”

Zuko rose from his final stance and raised an eyebrow at his old teacher. “Really?” He asked.

“No. You’ve grown sloppy in your turns. You’re throwing too much weight into the spin.”

Zuko laughed and sheathed his swords. “It’s good to see you, Master Piandao.”

The older man harumphed, though a small smile made its way to his face.

“I heard about what happened in the North,” Piandao said as Zuko made his way over to where he stood. “I’m sorry.”

Zuko sighed and looked at him. Unlike his uncle, the sword master was usually somewhat detached, proper. Zuko secretly appreciated his strict, logical teaching style, but he knew there was a gentle heart buried deeper.

“I heard about you,” Zuko said, “leaving the army. I wondered where you had gone.”

Piandao hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose, now, you’re not surprised?”

Zuko glanced out at the courtyard again. This place was peaceful. Here, he could almost forget about the war, it seemed so far away.

“I can see the appeal. But…” Zuko tapped his finger on the hilt of his sword, “I did wonder why, at the time.”

“Why…” Piandao sighed, “I served my nation for many years because I believed it to be proud and honourable. But I watched the Fire Nation become a giant war machine, its culture slowly twisted and the education system corrupted to continue to churn out soldiers with loyalty only to the Firelord.

“I couldn’t watch as my homeland became something cruel and oppressive. At first I just left, travelled around the world, seeking enlightenment, but eventually the reach of the Fire Nation grew further, and I saw that there was no escaping it. It wasn’t until the White Lotus recruited me and I saw and end to the darkness, that I began to feel hope.”

Zuko didn’t know what to say. He felt the pain of Piandao’s concerns for their country deeply. Something needed to change, but he felt so powerless against the current. He wasn’t powerless though, Zuko was the only heir to the throne, but they couldn’t wait for his father to pass naturally, there would be nothing left if they allowed him to continue to rule.

Later, during another meeting, Zuko found himself glancing away from Katara again. He couldn’t stop his eyes from finding her from across the table every few minutes. He chastised himself. Katara avoided looking in his direction altogether, and for some reason, that sparked something unpleasant in his gut.

“The Norther Water Tribe is sending an emissary along with reinforcements. One hundred warriors, and twenty waterbenders to aid us in our fight against the Fire Nation.” Hakoda read the numbers from a scroll bearing the Water Tribe insignia.

The scroll had been handed to Aang when he and Zuko left the North Pole. Exhausted and eager to leave, Zuko hadn't paid much attention to the transaction.

“One hundred and twenty?” Someone called from the other end of the table. “The Northern Water Tribe is enormous, why so few?”

Hakoda spared the man an irritated glance. “If you had let me continue, the rest of the Northern Water Tribe’s forces will remain in the North, waiting on news from us of a plan. Should we launch a direct attack on the Fire Nation, it would be more beneficial to have forces come from both directions. Besides,” Hakoda glanced at his daughter, “we know what one waterbender is capable of. Adding twenty more to our ranks will give us a definite advantage.”

“We are hardly ready to launch an attack directly.” It was Iroh that spoke, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room.

Zuko had learned that his uncle was one of the highest ranks, and key figures, of the White Lotus, called a Grand Lotus. There were three other Grand Lotuses as far as he could tell. Piandao was one of them, he had heard him referred to simply as the Sword Master. Another was the waterbender he had seen talking with Katara earlier, and the last, another firebender. Zuko glanced at the man, wondering once again at his scars and dishevelled appearance. As if sensing Zuko’s eyes on him, he firebender’s gaze flicked his way and Zuko felt a creeping sense of dread at the barely suppressed rage that burned in the old man’s eyes. He quickly looked away again.

It wasn’t until Zuko had overheard someone refer to the brooding old firebender as ‘the Deserter’ that Zuko had finally made the connection. Jeong Jeong was the first person in history to desert the Fire Nation military and live. The firebending master had a deep anger and hatred for the Fire Nation, and firebending, despite having been a venerated admiral of the Fire Nation navy.

Zuko had approached him, the afternoon before the meeting. Jeong Jeong had regarded the prince with the same amount of disdain he seemed to extend everyone, but Zuko needed to know what it was that turned the admiral from the Fire Nation. Jeong Jeong’s story was similar to Piandao’s, but a particular mention of a headstrong general sent a chill through Zuko’s bones.

Jeong Jeong had a student, many years ago, filled with dangerous ambition but no regard to the lives of others. His student lacked control, and it was in seeing the destruction that fire caused when it was unchecked that Jeong Jeong rejected the Fire Nation. His old student’s desire for power and lack of restraint was rewarded as he rose quickly through the ranks and became a general. Not only that, he became one of the Firelord’s closest confidants.

“Zhao.” Zuko had answered his own unspoken question.

Jeong Jeong had stared at him, surprised, but nodded. The Grand Lotus’s surprise grew when Zuko revealed his student’s fate. Though they were able to revive it, Zhao had succeeded in killing the Moon spirit that night. Jeong Jeong had hung his head in shame. He felt responsible for training and then letting loose such a destructive soul on the world. He told Zuko then that he wished he could have stopped it.

Zuko felt his guilt raise its heavy head as he struggled to voice the truth that still haunted him. He had killed Zhao. Before he could stop himself, the words began to gush out of him again. Zuko had done it to stop him from killing someone else. Jeong Jeong’s face changed and he seemed to see the conflict in Zuko. There was still that anger in his eyes, but now Zuko thought he could see something else. Relief. Jeong Jeong had sighed then, and told Zuko that he took a great evil out of the world, it brought him a small measure of peace.

He had left Zuko standing there, the memory still raw in his head, and wondering if there really was any good that came out of Zhao’s death. He hadn’t noticed Katara watching from afar until she moved closer. For the first time, he didn’t regard her with anger or wariness, he just looked back at Jeong Jeong as he walked away.

“Do you think he’s right?” Katara had asked him when she came to stand beside him.

“I don’t know,” was all Zuko could say as they both watched the firebending master disappear around a corner.

“I think he is.”

Zuko had looked at Katara then and there it was again, that inconvenient flare of emotion when he met her blue eyes. He remembered, once again, the panic that overcame him when he thought Azula had taken her that night, and the despair when his father ordered him to burn her. For the first time, Zuko found a question in place of the anger that usually rose to meet him when she was near.

“What happened,” he asked, surprising both of them, “that night by the tunnels, outside the palace?”

Katara had paled, hesitating. For a moment Zuko worried she wouldn’t answer him. Her eyes turned unfocused. She looked a thousand miles away, lost in the memory.

“Azula trapped us.” She finally said. “I didn’t want to kill her, not at first…”

Zuko stiffened.

“…but then I saw the burns on Yue’s back. Even then, she tried to stand between me and Azula. I…” Katara took a shuddering breath. “Something inside me snapped.”

Zuko felt a rush of panic when her eyes lifted and focused on him again. Suddenly he was back on the ship, eyes wide as he took in the scars Yue bore from his sister’s handywork. He remembered Katara’s blank look when she saw him staring. See? Then, Zuko remembered the rage he turned on Zhao when he used his firebending on Yue. There was terror in her eyes, she was scarred in more ways than one by Azula. Zuko wanted to believe he would never cross that line, he could claim that he felt no satisfaction at the sight of Zhao beaten at his feet. But he’d be lying.

There was something inside him that Zuko had held back, but it had wanted release. Zhao had taken something priceless from the world, he didn’t deserve his mercy, but when he forced Zuko’s hand and Zuko saw Zhao’s broken body beneath him, he had felt sick. Zuko shook the memory away, ignoring the tiny voice that reminded him how good it felt to stand over Zhao, knowing he had bested him, that his life was in his hands. Zuko looked back at Katara.

He searched her face, wondering if she battled the same demons he did. His eyes drifted to her mouth and he remembered their kiss. She stood so close to him.

“I have been cruel,” Zuko heard himself say, distantly.

Katara stared at him, something hopeful and, perhaps, a little scared in her eyes.

“I wanted to believe that my sister wasn’t the monster he knew her to be, and I was blinded by the pain of losing her. But it was also guilt… I didn’t try to help her, try to stop the person she was becoming…”

Katara stepped closer, her hand went to his arm. She barely touched him.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted, “for the other day. I crossed a line.”

“Why did you do it?” Katara asked after a moment of silence between them.

Zuko thought about it. “I don’t know. I think… suddenly I was so scared of being alone, I felt like I was losing myself.” He looked at Katara and saw tears in her eyes.

She took a breath and when she spoke, her voice wavered slightly.

“I felt like a piece of myself was lost that night, a part of me I won’t ever get back.”

Zuko stared at her.

“Katara…”

Katara reached for him, grasping his hands. She looked up at him hopefully.

“I’m so sorry for what I did Zuko, what I took from you. I never meant to-”

Zuko shook his head and pulled away. He didn’t hate her for killing Azula, not anymore, but he couldn’t do this.

“I-” he took a step back, “I need to find my uncle.” He had turned away then and left her staring after him.

Zuko’s eyes flicked towards Katara again, she must have sensed it because she seemed to stiffen but kept her eyes on the table. Iroh went on.

“The Fire Nation is too strong to attack head on, we will need an advantage over them, so we have been searching for something to aid us.”

Iroh gestured to a map that was already spread over the table in front of them. But it wasn’t a map, Zuko realised, it was a calendar.

“Generations ago, Firelord Sozin utilised the power of a comet that circled the earth every one hundred years. The comet gave him and other firebenders incredible firebending abilities, and they used it to wipe out the airbenders.”

Zuko looked at Aang, as several others did, but tried not to be obvious about it. The Avatar’s face was stony, but he said nothing.

“That was a century ago,” Hakoda asked into the awkward silence, “when will the comet return?”

Iroh smiled. “It already has. Five years ago.”

There was a collective rumble of concern throughout the room.

“Why didn’t the Firelord burn his way across the Earth Kingdom then?” A voice called.

Zuko shifted in his seat, wondering the same.

“In the Fire Nation, historically,” Iroh answered, “astronomical events such as this have been observed and predicted by the Fire Sages. However, for the last few years, we have been working to remove sages whose loyalty has been to the Firelord, keeping only those loyal to the cause.”

Zuko sat up at this. He caught Aang’s eye from where he stood against the wall on the other side of the room. The Avatar gave him a knowing look and smiled.

“The nationalist sages were sent to the Crescent Island Temple, where increased volcanic activity led to the island eventually being evacuated. We were waiting for them. We rescued the Fire Sages when they fled, they’re currently being held in Gaoling prison. We have several agents stationed there to make sure they are protected.

“The truth is that the volcanic activity was in fact exacerbated by our earth benders and a certain lavabender we know. This prevented the sages from sending word to the capital. They had been in contact with the High Temple, and likely assumed that the sages there would pass on the message to the palace about the impending arrival of Sozin’s comet, but they kept the information secret. By the time the comet came and disappeared, the Fire Nation was none the wiser, it came in the night, when most were asleep.”

Everyone stared at Iroh, no one saying a word. Zuko glanced at the faces of the other Grand Lotuses. They watched the room as well, waiting for the rest of the table to take in this information. Had this plan really been in motion for years? Zuko thought back to his conversation with the Fire Sage he had met in the catacombs. He had thought then that they had only meant to free the Avatar, but there was another goal to their deception, and even once Zuko had been the one to break the Avatar out of the Fire Nation, they had not told him everything. Zuko felt a sudden guilt at his hesitation at the time, the years he had spent in that hesitation before he finally did the right thing. He had been so afraid of what he stood to lose if he were found out, if he pushed too far…

Zuko’s eyes flicked once again to Katara, and surprisingly, she met his gaze. They looked at each other for several seconds, and Zuko knew his inner conflict was clear on his face. Katara looked terrified by the knowledge that they had been so close to annihilation, to total domination under the rule of the Firelord.

“I understand this information is troubling,” Iroh tried to gather everyone’s attention again, “but we are safe for now, and we have time to plan a stronger attack.”

The rest of the table seemed to come to their senses, and quietened.

“Many of you may have noticed we keep an empty seat at this table.”

Eyes turned to the seat between Iroh and Piandao.

“Of the White Lotus, there are five current Grand Lotuses. One of our own is being held prisoner by the Fire Nation. He is the king of Omashu, the oldest and most powerful earthbender in the Earth Kingdom.”

At this, Toph Beifong scoffed and Zuko glanced her way. She stood nearby, and Zuko saw Aang shift in the corner of his eye. When he looked towards him, Zuko saw him smile a little at Toph’s reaction.

“Omashu,” Zuko suddenly recalled the name, “as in New Ozai?”

A few grumbled angrily at Zuko’s question. Zuko realised it probably wasn't the smartest thing to bring up the Fire Nation’s name for the colony.

“The same.” Iroh smiled at Zuko, ignoring the chatter. “Omashu’s walls are notoriously impenetrable. The Fire Nation colony holds the king captive in order to maintain control on the population, which includes utilising the earthbending military to continue operate the gate.”

“The colony received reinforcements recently.” Zuko added, suddenly remembering.

His comment was met with more grumbling, and Iroh frowned, seeming to recall their conversation back in the palace. Zuko rubbed his forehead and thought for a second.

“The ships would have only just arrived,” he said suddenly, looking up at Iroh, “and with everything going on in the capital, it’s possible the colony doesn’t know what happened yet.”

Iroh paused and frowned at Zuko, curious where his nephew was going with this.

“Mai is married to the governor,” Zuko said, almost to himself, as if there weren’t a dozen irritated eyes pinned on him now, “She would welcome me. I could get in, they might not know I’ve defected.”

Iroh nodded, considering this, and the others at the table quietly murmured at the proposal. Suddenly Iroh grimaced and offered Zuko an apologetic smile.

“Unfortunately nephew, I don’t know if the governor will welcome you, given your history with his wife.”

Zuko’s face suddenly felt warm and he suddenly became aware of the many eyes on him. He forced himself not to look Katara’s way, though he didn’t know why exactly. Suddenly an idea occurred to him and he forced himself to meet her gaze.

“Not if I was there with mine.”

~

Chapter Text

The White Lotus had a supply of Fire Nation uniforms that they used for this covert missions. Zuko blinked as a number of supposed Fire Nation soldiers walked by, nodding in greeting as they passed in the hall. It was eerie to say the least.

“I’m coming too.” Aang said beside him.
“No.” Iroh shook his head and Zuko turned back to the conversation.
“They’ll likely be walking into a trap.” Aang said, frowning.

Zuko couldn’t disagree. Despite the logic of his plan, there were several glaring holes in it. They had no way of definitively knowing if New Ozai had received word of the attack on the Fire Nation, and so knew about his defection.

“Exactly,” Iroh said, looking briefly at Zuko, “if things go badly, we cannot risk the Avatar’s safety.”
Iroh glanced at Zuko again, and Zuko knew he had half a mind to reject the plan altogether. “If you have a better plan to get the king out, I’m all ears.” Zuko finally said. “But this is the best plan we’ve got. There are always risks, but I agree. Aang, you’re too important in this war to risk on this mission.”
Aang considered Zuko, still obviously unhappy, but slowly nodded, looking away.
“Fine.” He turned and walked away, leaving Zuko to speak with his uncle alone.

“Zuko-”
“I know, Uncle.” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “But what choice do we have?”
Iroh said nothing. Zuko touched his uncle’s shoulder and started down the hall.
“Come on, let’s find something respectable for me to wear.”

Zuko grimaced at his reflection, frowning at the headpiece pinned in his hair.
“I’m not sure about this.” Iroh said again.
“It will work.” Zuko said, with more certainty than he felt.

Someone had brought a pile of fine robes for Zuko to were, and the clothes he had been wearing when they left the Fire Nation had been cleaned and mended. Zuko looked, painfully, like royalty. He turned away from the mirror.

“If they have heard about the attack-”
“Then they will not let us in. Or they’ll attack us before we can get close. Either way, we will have enough of the White Lotus with us to fight them off and retreat.”
Zuko wondered if he really believed that, but he smiled at his uncle as if he did.
“The Firelord will be more focused on digging out any remaining traitors within his own walls, and you said yourself the White Lotus has been monitoring Omashu for months now. If they made any indication of sending forces back to the capital, or readying for an attack themselves, we would know about it by now.”
“Mmm.” Iroh stroked his beard.
Zuko turned away, as if it didn’t worry him. There was no way to know for sure if a messenger hawk was sent to inform the governor. Though their plan seemed well-thought, it was still a gamble. Iroh muttered as much under his breath. Zuko pretended not to hear.

Katara walked in, dressed like a princess once more. Zuko’s heart dropped.
“It is a gamble worth taking.” She said, coming to stand in the middle of the room.

Zuko shook the surprise from his face as quickly as he could. Katara glanced his way, and a tiny smile in her eyes told him she didn’t miss it. He squared his shoulders and crossed the room. He offered Katara his arm and when she hesitated, Zuko chuckled.
“It’s probably a good idea to practice looking like a real couple.”

Katara blinked, but eventually took his arm. Zuko found himself breathing a little more quickly for some reason, but ignored the delicate warmth that spread from where her hand lay. He turned back to his uncle just in time to see Iroh hiding a smile. Zuko grit his teeth and cleared his throat, turning away again. Together they left the room.

“Zuko.” Iroh called from the doorway once the two of them were half-way down the hallway.
Zuko turned back.
“Be careful.” Iroh’s face was tight.
“We will, Uncle.” Zuko offered him a hesitant smile and continued on, before he could convince himself to stay.

They brought the ship out, heading West and then North, past Kyoshi Island, Whale Tail Island, then out into the Mo Ce Sea, before turning around slightly and making their way towards Omashu. They needed to appear as if they had come from the West, from the Fire Nation.

Zuko stood on the forecastle, leaning against the banister as they came about. The sea breeze settled some of his nerves, but only a little.

“Thought I might find you here.”

Zuko felt his shoulders tense when he turned to see Katara come to stand beside him. It was an effort to keep his face neutral. What was wrong with him?

“I thought I should probably give you this back.” Katara handed him something small. “I thought this would help, with the disguise.”

Zuko stared at the ring. He hadn’t thought back to that moment on the ship, when he had thrown it at her feet in disgust, since that night. Looking at the gleaming band brought it all back, in startling, blaring clarity.

“Katara-”
“I understand,” she interrupted whatever he might have said, “why you can’t trust me… But I want you to know that I’ll do what I can to help. Even if you still hate me after all this.”

Zuko looked at her, not sure what to say. But one thing she said struck him like lightning.

“I don’t hate you, Katara.”

Katara stared at him, something in her eyes almost fearful. Hours passed, or maybe it was only a few seconds, but Katara finally looked away, inhaling sharply.

“I’m just-” she looked around as if remembering something, “going to check… the cabin…” She turned and hurried down the stairs to the deck.

Zuko stood, semi-frozen, staring after her. He looked down at the ring again and found himself slipping it on. He didn’t know what to think about the tightness that formed in his chest when he looked at it on his hand again.

The quickest way to get to Omashu would be to go through Shen Guan, a small fortress town that had also been occupied by the Fire Nation for the last few years. However, this would increase their chances of being caught. It was best to avoid it for now. They travelled further North, heading inland, upriver and around the mountains that bordered Omashu. The ship came to a stop at the head of the river, which curved into a valley, a wide enough mountain pass for them to ride through. They anchored and Katara followed Zuko and the others into the rowboat that took them to shore. The boat that followed brought a carriage, and another carried a dragon moose. Katara blinked. She wondered how long it had taken to get hold of a dragon moose in the Earth Kingdom but realised that they would need to be riding in a carriage for appearances. The dragon moose was just another layer of their disguise, being native to the Fire Nation.

Omashu itself was perched atop a steep mountain peak. The only way up was a narrow pathway, either side of which lay a several thousand foot drop. The path was just wide enough for their carriage and a guard to stand on either side of it. Katara gripped the handle inside the carriage and was conscious not to look out the window. As they climbed higher, she distracted herself by checking the water bag she had donned. It was hidden beneath the layers of her robes, but easily accessible if they needed to fight.

Zuko sat beside her but said nothing. They hadn’t spoken since the ship, but neither could think of something normal to say. Katara busied herself with adjusting her sash.

“You look perfect.” He muttered quietly. “Stop fussing.”

Katara face warmed. “Sorry.”

Zuko wasn’t looking at her, his elbow propped up, he chin resting on his palm. He seemed so confident. Katara found herself once again wondering at the slim chance that their plan would work, and they would get past the walls. She touched her necklace as she thought about the last conversation she had with her father before they set off for Omashu.

Zuko suddenly sighed and Katara started a little. “This is too weird.” He groaned and she turned to see him shifting to look at her directly.

“What?” She asked.

“They’re going to know something is wrong if we can’t even look at each other.” He sighed again and sat back, eyeing her as if challenging her to prove him wrong.

Katara swallowed and looked back at him. For several seconds neither of them said anything. It felt as though it were a test, seeing who could outlast the other. Katara eventually faltered first. They both sighed, him from disappointment or perhaps confirmation, her from a sudden, heavy weariness.

For the last few days, Katara had watched Zuko, painfully aware of his mood, his confusion. His entire life had been upended, and for some reason, she felt responsible. In some part, she supposed, she was, but she reminded herself then, as she did daily, that Azula had left her little choice, and though she could have spared her, Zuko’s deranged sister would have tracked them to the ends of the Earth if it killed her. It was done, there was no changing the past, but it hurt Zuko still, she knew, and if it were the other way around, she would never forgive him for taking Sokka away from her.

So she had watched him, wary. Waiting to see if he would wake up one morning and decide that he would take his revenge. Would she open her eyes in the night and see him standing over her? Would it be the last thing she ever saw? And then there was the kiss.

“What is it?” He asked, sounding a little irritated now.

Katara jolted, realising she had gotten lost in her thoughts again. She winced at his frustrated expression.

“I can do this.” She said, forcing a bravado into her voice she didn't possess.

She nodded, almost to herself, as if reinforcing her words. Zuko looked unconvinced, grimacing slightly.

“I hope so. If they suspect anything, it’ll be over before it starts.”

They arrived at the gates, their escort of disguised White Lotus in tow. Zuko peered out the window of the carriage to see armoured earthbenders standing in front of what looked like a solid wall of earth, and several more standing along the top of it. They slowed and when the carriage stopped, one of the men outside announced Prince Zuko and his wife in a loud voice that echoed down into the chasm below. Zuko glanced at Katara one more time, catching a flicker of fear before she smoothed her face and took a slow breath. Zuko nodded once and stepped out of the carriage.

Zuko squinted at the sudden brightness and held up a hand to shade his eyes. The ground rumbled in the next moment and a square section of the wall of earth shook before lowering, sinking into the ground. The earthbenders outside the wall stood, stances wide, with their palms facing the ground. The others on the top of the wall on either side of the ‘gate’ were doing the same. When the gate had completely lowered, Zuko saw a man in fine Fire Nation robes walking towards him, uniformed Fire Nation soldiers spread out behind him. He bowed as the man approached, not too low, reminding himself that he was a prince.

“Governor.” He said, forcing a smile to his face.

Hide did not smile but bowed. “Prince Zuko. We did not receive word that you were coming, a pleasant surprise.”

Zuko eyed the man. Hide was only a little shorter than he was, and a childish part of Zuko wanted to grin at that. Hide was handsome, to be sure, but the barely concealed resentment was proof of his insecurity. Zuko was tempted to ask how Mai was but decided it was best not to push it.

“May I introduce my wife?” Zuko kept his eyes on Hide as he held out a hand towards the open door of the carriage.

Hide’s eyes followed Zuko’s hand and widened slightly as the carriage rocked gently. Zuko didn’t look behind him, even as he felt Katara’s hand accept his and she came to stand beside him. She bowed gracefully and Zuko glanced at her long enough to see a soft smile on her face. The perfect picture of gentility. He almost blinked in surprise but regained his composure before his smile slipped.

“My Lady.” Hide bowed again, almost imperceptibly shallower than the bow he had offered Zuko.

Hide’s eyes caught on Katara’s Water Tribe necklace, no doubt also noting her darker skin and blue eyes. Zuko wondered for a moment if they hadn’t heard about his marriage, but then Hide did not look surprised. Good old fashioned racism then. Perfect.

Zuko clenched his teeth but kept the smile.
“I sent a messenger hawk a week ago with word of our coming to visit, perhaps it got lost.”

Hide’s gaze flew back to Zuko, a fake smile failing to meet his eyes. “Indeed. In any case, welcome, please.” He held out an arm towards the gate.

Zuko glanced back to the White Lotus and nodded to the closest member. He nodded back and turned to bark directions at the others to follow directions from the guards within New Ozai, as if they did not know exactly where they would head once they were inside. Iroh had made sure Zuko, along with everyone else involved in the mission, completely memorised the map they had of Omashu, littered with notes of reported structures constructed after colonisation, including a massive statue of the Firelord in the centre of the city, where the old palace once sat.

Zuko nodded back to Hide in thanks, secretly imagining what he would look like if his moustache were burnt off. He put a hand on Katara’s back and led her through the gate. The only indication of her hesitation was a slight falter in her step when she felt his hand behind her. They were in.

~

Chapter Text

Upon entering New Ozai, Katara had tried to hide her amazement. The city was nothing short of impressive. The entire place was built into the very tip of the mountain, the palace obviously nestled on the highest point in the centre of the city. She could just make out the statue of Ozai.

The wall rose up and sealed them inside in moments. There was no turning back now… Katara glanced around, checking that all of their forces had followed them inside. They were all there. Zuko paused and Katara turned back to see why.

“Mai.” He breathed.

Katara looked at the woman that approached them now. Hide came to stand beside her and Katara saw Zuko school his features into something neutral but friendly. It was a strange sight.

“Hello Prince Zuko.” Mai curtseyed gracefully, her silky hair swaying slightly across her face.

Katara couldn’t explain the sudden, sharp dislike that flared at seeing Mai’s beauty. It momentarily stole her breath. She found herself speechless. Thankfully, both Mai and her obviously jealous husband were too focused on Zuko to see Katara’s fleeting grimace as she forced her eyes away from the soft expression Zuko gave Mai.

“It’s been a long time, Mai.” There was something sad in the way he said it, and neither Katara nor Hide missed it.

Hide cleared his throat, forcing that smile back onto his face. It looked about as fake as Katara’s felt. Mai blinked twice and turned to Katara then. Katara felt her anxiety spike but made sure to direct the energy into her smile. She repeated the restrained bow she had offered the governor.

“Your Highness.” Mai curtseyed again.

“Lady Mai. It’s nice to meet you.” Katara’s voice sounded strange even to her.

“And you, I’ve heard much.”

Funny. Katara had never heard Mai’s name until the day before, when Zuko came up with this plan.

“Nothing embarrassing I hope.” Katara laughed politely.

“Of course,” Mai considered her, eyes dropping to her neck before back to her face, “it’s heartening to see a partnership between the Water Tribe and the Fire Nation.”

Katara stiffened. Zuko laughed forcefully beside her, the hand at her back pressed harder for a second. A warning.

“Who’d have thought?” Zuko said conversationally. “Perhaps this war will come to an end by the next generation. I predict an era of peace and unity.”

Katara wanted to vomit at the words Zuko spouted now. They weren’t his, but his father’s. Instead she smiled.

Zuko and Katara stood with their arms crossed at the foot of the bed, the door having shut behind them less than a minute ago, finally leaving them alone. Neither one of them looked at the other. The bed was clearly meant for two, but it was smaller by far than the bed they once shared in the palace.

They had shared a bed before, but this suddenly felt different. In the Fire Nation, they both hid parts of themselves from each other, the pillows weren’t the only things that lay between them. Secrets divided them. Now, Zuko had seen that Katara was far from the defenseless victim he once thought her, and Katara now saw Zuko for what he was as well. Suddenly, the pillow barrier that used to suffice seemed inadequate.

“This is Hide.” Zuko said, breaking the silence.

Katara glanced at him, eyebrows raised in question.

“He probably gave us the smallest bed in the whole building.” He gestured irritably at the cot.

Katara laughed. She couldn’t help it. Zuko turned and stared at her but his expression only made her laugh harder. Zuko’s look of bewilderment turned to one of concern when Katara bent over, breathless with laughter. It must have been the exhaustion. She hadn’t slept much the night before, worried about the mission, and she had not relaxed until that moment, when there were no other eyes on them.

Katara gripped the bed frame, forcing herself to breathe normally. She actually had to wipe tears off her cheeks. When she looked up at Zuko again, he looked positively terrified of her.

“Are you ok?” His voice was high.

Katara nodded, straightening. “We’re not here for a vacation.” She rounded the bed and tossed a couple of the pillows into the centre. “We’ve got work to do.”

Katara didn’t wait for Zuko to respond before she headed back to the cases that were left by the door. She opened one and started peeling off the layers of robes to change into the leathers she had packed. Zuko made a sound of protest when she started stripping, though she hadn’t shown any skin yet, and Katara looked back at him over her shoulder. The poor boy was actually blushing, turning away. Katara bit back a remark, turning back to her case. She gathered the clothes and rose, passing a mildly scandalised Zuko and heading to the dividing screen by the wall.

Katara followed Zuko as he made his way slowly across the roof. They had crawled out of the window in their bedroom, at least an hour after everyone had gone to bed. Katara relished the cold air that whipped her face, the part that was exposed above the fabric across her nose and mouth, she longed for the biting cold of the South Pole. They were dressed in black, blending with the night. She followed Zuko’s lead and slipped into the city, silent as a mouse.

Fire Nation soldiers patrolled almost every street, so they kept to the rooftops. They stopped at the edge of a large building in the Western quarter. They were looking or signs of rebels, groups of people gathering in the shadows, but there was no one in sight. The only movement in the moonlight came from the Fire Nation soldiers that passed by below. They had obviously imposed a curfew, Katara doubted they would find any citizens in the street at night.

Zuko groaned quietly.
“What is it?” Katara whispered.
“I sent them reinforcements, before we left the Fire Nation.” He ducked down.

Katara did the same and glanced back down at the street. Another guard passed just beneath them. They stayed silent until he rounded the corner.

“You sent them?” Katara whispered back.
Zuko seemed to grimace, though she couldn’t be sure beneath the mask. “I redirected them away from the South Pole. So they wouldn’t raid your village anymore…”

Katara stared at him. Zuko seemed to avoid looking at her. They crouched in silence as Katara processed this. She remembered the anger she had felt when she stood in his chambers, back in the Fire Nation. What she asked of him… She hadn’t thought about what had happened to those ships, where he had sent them. Even then, she had trusted him, and he had trusted her in return. And what had she done with that trust? Katara turned away, closing her eyes and ignoring the burn behind them.

“Let’s check the other quarters, see if there might be groups meeting somewhere else.” Katara turned away and started back across the roof.

They quietly made their way to the Eastern quarter, still seeing no sign of activity in the streets.

“What do we do?” Katara whispered when Zuko appeared beside her.

“If there are still insurgents, they’ll be meeting somewhere in secret. We need to search the streets.”
“But where do we start?” Katara glanced around.

Every corner looked as abandoned as the next.

“There,” Zuko pointed to a barely perceptible flicker of light several blocks away, “that building. Everywhere else is dark, whoever that is, they aren’t asleep.”

The window was, for the most part, blocked out by the curtains inside, but as Katara watched, they shifted slightly, as if someone was trying to better cover the gap.

“I see it. Do you really think it’s some kind of secret meeting?”

“It’s a start. Come on.” Zuko slipped away again, Katara close behind.

The house was identical to the ones beside it. The two of them crouched on the roof above but heard only silence from below. Katara looked to Zuko, who jerked his head towards the gutter on their left. Just beyond was a pipe that ran down the side of the building. Zuko crept to the edge of the roof and gracefully swung over the edge, lowering himself smoothly down the pipe until he was on the ground. Katara stared for a moment, beyond impressed at his agility, before attempting the same. She lost her footing once she was hanging over the edge and her fingers slipped from the gutter. She only had time to gasp before she was falling. Panic gripped her as the world blurred past.

Rather than the hard ground, Katara landed in a pair of strong arms. Still, the breath was knocked out of her.

“Shh!” Zuko hissed in her ear.

He instantly lowered them both to the ground beneath the window, still gripping her. Katara’s heart hammered in her chest as they pressed against the wall under the sill. A strip of light appeared on the ground beside them as someone peaked out the window. They both held their breath until the light disappeared again, the curtain back in place.

Zuko didn’t let go of her until they were in complete darkness again. If it weren’t for the masks and the fact that it was night, he likely would have seen the blush that rose to her cheeks then. She regained her balance and followed as he crept around the side of the house. They turned into an alleyway and headed to another window that spilled faint light into the alley. Whispers of conversation reached them and Katara strained to hear what they were saying.

Before they could get any closer, a knife was pressed against her throat and she froze. Zuko stopped when she sucked in a breath and whirled, one hand on his swords. His eyes were wide as he stared at the figure behind Katara.

“Hands where I can see them.” The man’s voice was gruff, but quiet.

It wasn’t a soldier then, he didn’t want to be overheard. The knife pressed more insistently on Katara’s neck. She winced, eyes still on Zuko. He hesitated but raised his hands, not looking away from the man behind Katara. His eyes burned with something she didn’t recognise.

“Who are you?” The man murmured, turning towards Katara.
“Friends.” She said, a little breathless.
“Bullshit.” He huffed.
“We’re looking for the resistance.”
“Why?” The knife pressed harder.
“We’re here to free the king.”

The man paused at that. Katara kept her eyes on Zuko, who seemed to be fighting against his own instinct to cut the man down. Beyond him, Katara saw more figures emerging from the shadows. She opened her eyes wider, glancing at them in the hope that Zuko would understand. He did, stiffening when the quiet sound of footsteps came from behind him. He kept his hands still.

“Why?” The man eventually said.
Katara swallowed, he hadn’t lowered the knife.
“Because we need him, if we are going to defeat the Firelord.”

The knife left her throat and Katara released the breath she was holding. The man stepped around her, knife still in his hands. The others came into view and Zuko turned to see them. He stepped closer to Katara, both of them holding up their hands now.

“Tell me,” the man said as his friends came closer, more weapons glinting in the moonlight, “why should we believe that the prince of the Fire Nation wants to kill his own father?”

Zuko stiffened again. He slowly moved his hand to his mask and pulled it down, no point to their disguise. His scar was recognisable anywhere, it seemed. Katara did the same, hoping it would help build trust. The man eyed her, he seemed to be surprised to see a girl from the Water Tribe. Katara decided it was best she did the talking.

“Because he’s my husband.”

That surprised them. The man’s eyebrows shot upwards, a snort of disbelief sounded from the group.

“Zuko left the Fire Nation for me.” She hoped her face conveyed nothing less than proud affection as she spun the story. “We’ll never be safe until the Firelord is gone.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have arrived in a Fire Navy ship, dressed in Fire Nation robes.”

Katara swallowed. She glanced at Zuko, who shook his head fervently. She sighed, they had little choice but to trust them.

“It’s a ruse.” Katara went on despite Zuko groaning beside her. “We needed to get into the palace to break the king out. The governor and his wife don’t know yet but the Fire Nation has been attacked. We just barely escaped.”

This got a reaction out of the group. The man speaking turned and murmured something in a surprised tone to the man beside him.

“It’s true.” Zuko said, though he sounded reluctant to be revealing such dangerous information. “We don’t know how long we have before word reaches the governor. Until then, they don’t know that we’re here to free the king and help the Earth Kingdom take back Omashu.”

Zuko’s use of the true name of the city was enough to turn the tide of the situation. The group seemed to perk up, something unfurling in their eyes that had apparently been buried for a long time now.

Hope.

~

Chapter Text

Katara stifled a yawn. Again. They had made it back to the palace only a few hours before dawn, having spent the better part of the night trading information with the suspicious group of Omashu rebels. They revealed that they were part of the White Lotus and, after explaining what that was, in exchange the rebels told them about the palace, the structure that remained anyway. The prison where the governor was holding the king lay within a series of tunnels below the building. The cell itself would be suspended, away from the earth, and in all likelihood made entirely out of metal. One of the men in the group used to work as a guard for the palace, but had been assigned to waste collection when he refused to serve the new governor. There were far worse punishment for insurrection.

They needed the help of the rebels if they were to succeed in breaking the king out. In every proposed plan, there was only one way they were getting out of Omashu once the king was free, and that was by force. They needed to overpower the Fire Nation forces in the city. To gain the upper hand, they’d need a distraction. The rebels agreed to the plan, they would wait for word from the White Lotus to stage an attack, and with the attention on them, the White Lotus would break the king out of his cage.

Zuko and Katara had returned and attempted to get as much sleep as they could, but both of them woke feeling groggy and irritable. Now they sat for breakfast with Hide and Mai, trying to appear excited to be visiting.

“So,” Hide began, already tense, “has there been anything exciting happening back in the homeland? We don’t get much news from the capital here, sometimes that is a blessing, other times horribly isolating.”

Zuko thankfully was not obvious about the relief they both felt at Hide’s words. “Nothing so interesting,” he smiled, “my focus has been on my duties as a newlywed.”

Zuko turned and offered Katara a smile that gave her a warm feeling she would never admit to. She returned it, saying nothing. Strangely, it was easy to slip into the familiar role of subdued wife, she had practiced it enough. The fear, however, that accompanied her every minute within the capital was gone.

Katara pretended to focus on her food. Last night, she had taken the role of liaison with the Omashu rebels, their trust was tenuous, and they would not listen to Zuko word. Now, her word meant much less, and it was Zuko that needed to handle the diplomacy.

“I have been meaning to visit for some time,” Zuko went on, “I’m curious about the colony that bears my father’s name.” He smiled politely and continued to eat.

Katara glanced at Hide long enough to see the poorly hidden contempt. She silently prayed Zuko remained careful. Katara glanced at Mai and started when she realised the woman was already looking at her. She quickly offered her a polite smile as well. Mai returned it, but it was delicate, composed, empty.

“Perhaps a tour? Shall we see the city?” Zuko asked as if he was simply happy to be there, his light hearted countenance a little at odds with everything Katara knew about him.

Hide scoffed. “Unfortunately, I have some matters to attend to today, but you are welcome to explore. I must implore you to stay out of the housing districts of the city. There are soldiers in every quarter, however there have been… disorderly citizens in the outer areas.”

Zuko nodded, as if this was reasonable. Katara watched as his gaze flicked to Mai when Hide looked at his plate. There it was again, that inconvenient pulse of envy. Katara bit the corner of her lip and kept her face arranged pleasantly. That was something she would deal with later.

After breakfast, Katara found herself walking behind Zuko and Mai, who had offered to walk with them. Mai didn’t giggle or faun over a Zuko, but the not-so-subtle way she turned her body towards him when she spoke, or pretended to be focused on something else when he looked at her was deliberate. Katara acted as though she didn’t notice, and pretended she didn’t see Zuko’s eyes flicking towards Mai when she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

Zuko would be able to use that attention to their benefit, their whole plan hinged on the fact that the two of them had a history. But Katara new Zuko could see how much Mai still loved him. He had to be able to see it. Whether Zuko felt something in return was the question. As far as Katara could tell, he was still focused on the mission at hand, but would he be able to betray Mai in the end? If they failed here, they wouldn’t just lose the advantage of the king joining their ranks. Katara, among the other White Lotus members in the city, wouldn’t live to see another sunrise.

“How is the situation with the rebels you mentioned in your letter?” Zuko asked Mai, leaning in a little closer so they wouldn’t be overheard.

Katara waited for Mai’s reaction. Her job today was simply to watch, a goal made easy by the fact that everything Mai did, every little smile or side-ways glance, caught Katara’s attention and grated on her nerves. Now, Mai briefly glanced back at Katara, who pretended to be admiring the great stone walls circling the city.

“Well,” Mai turned a hesitant smile back to Zuko, “it wasn’t quite a situation. A nuisance more than anything…”

“I hope the reinforcements helped, in any case.” Zuko smiled.

Katara fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“They did.” Mai touched Zuko’s arm affectionately. “We haven’t seen much criminal activity since the reinforcements arrived and we imposed a curfew on the citizens.” She leaned in, like Zuko had earlier. “Was that your doing, the reinforcements?”

“I may have convinced my father that the threat in New Ozai had the potential to build to a full-scale uprising and deserved our attention.” He said it casually, but smiled when his eyes flicked her way.

Katara worked her jaw, it was sore from how hard she was clenching her teeth. She looked back to the wall. There were twice as many Fire Nation soldiers lining it, patrolling, than there were Earthbenders stationed to control the gate. Their distraction when they would break the king out would need to be major to draw them away. The idea that they had toyed with the rebels to set off explosions at multiple points to disperse them should be effective, but that still left the guards within the palace, and they hadn't even seen the inside of the prison beneath.

They entered into the main square, there was a ring of stalls set up, more soldiers patrolled the street. The general atmosphere of the market was tense, Omashu citizens watched the Fire Nation army out of the corner of their eye. Katara didn’t doubt that, while they were simply supervising now, they didn’t pass up the opportunity to remind the citizens of their hold over their city. A scattering of scorch marks on the stone beneath the stalls confirmed Katara’s suspicions.

Their little procession passed by the line of stalls, the people shopping glumly shuffled out of the way as soon as they caught sight of the Fire Nation robes, leaving them a painfully wide berth. A familiar face caught Katara’s eye and she strayed a little while actively admiring a line of handmade bowls at one of the stalls they passed. While they had been attended by a half-dozen Fire Nation soldiers on their promenade, the majority of the protective circle remained with the governor’s wife and the Firelord’s son. The single guard that stayed by Katara allowed her a polite amount of space while she paused by the bowls, thankfully.

Katara’s gaze flicked up to the green eyes of the man behind the stall. His name was Long, he had been the one to threaten her with the knife the night before. It happened that he was somewhat of a respected figure of the resistance within the city, or what was left of it. Katara picked up one of the bowls, noting Zuko glancing her way in the corner of her eye. She didn’t look at him, making a show of inspecting the bowl. She smiled warmly at Long, glancing back at the guard behind her to indicate she wasn’t interested and was ready to return to the group. As soon as the guard moved to guide her back, Katara turned the bowl upside down, as she had found it, but slipped a folded parchment beneath it.

“The walls are really quite impressive.” Zuko exclaimed to Mai when Katara joined them. “How do you manage to keep the earthbenders’ cooperation to maintain it?”

Mai confirmed what they already knew, explaining how they held the king captive. Not one of the citizens tried to leave, their loyalty to their king unwavering. She seemed almost impressed, but she flicked a tiny spec of dirt from her robes in the next moment, sparing Katara of any doubt that Mai was still Fire Nation nobility, the very enemy they needed to rid the city of.

“Really?” Zuko asked, in a completely alien tone of light hearted curiosity. “Where would you keep him? What, with the insurgents, it would have to be highly secured.”

“Of course.” Mai said.

They were almost out of the square now, not Earth Kingdom people in earshot. Mai pointed back to the palace, then dragged her finger down a fraction.

“After a particularly irritating attack from the rebels a few years ago, we moved him. Before that he was locked in a metal box, suspended, of course, to prevent any sort of earthbending.”

“He’s an earthbender?” Zuko asked, feigning surprise.

“Oh yes, a rather mischievous one. He proved to be powerful enough to bend, even within the box. But, as luck would have it, Azula happened to be visiting, and with her help, we stopped him from escaping and moved him to a more secure holding cell.”

At the mention of Azula, both Zuko and Katara went rod-straight. Katara’s heart stuttered and in that moment, she prepared herself for their final stand right there. Zuko, to his credit, hid it quickly, laughing nervously. He didn’t even miss a stride.

“Ah. I’m not surprised.” He cleared his throat. “The king really had picked the wrong time to try to escape.”

Katara forced herself to keep pace, but she could barely hear them over the sound of her blood rushing in her ears.

“So how do you keep him from bending?” Zuko frowned as if genuinely curious.

Mai chuckled, “the same way as before, but on a much bigger scale. The palace has a series of tunnels and caverns deep beneath it, it was fairly simple to construct a cell to hang over one of the largest ones, we haven’t had any problems since.”

“You managed to bury an earthbender.”

Zuko smiled at Mai as if he was impressed. It sickened Katara, how well he played his part. She also felt uneasy seeing how easily he could talk with Mai, when every interaction he had with her, or anyone else, was tense, short and direct. If this was an act, it was practiced, familiar, flawless. If it wasn’t…

“Shall we head back?”

Katara eyed the arm Zuko extended to Mai, who accepted automatically, an old habit. They completed their circuit and turned back to the palace.

Just as they had the night before, Zuko and Katara waited an hour after everyone had gone to bed, only this time they weren’t sneaking out of the palace, but in. After dinner, Zuko had slipped a note into the hand of one of the White Lotus members that had arrived with them, his Fire Nation armour blending seamlessly with the others in the palace. Hide had begrudgingly allowed for Zuko to retain a number of his own forces within the palace, the rest temporarily adding to his patrol numbers within the city. The note Zuko had passed on would update the rest of the White Lotus on their progress, their communication with the rebels in the city, and the suspected location of the king.

Iroh and the other Grand Lotuses had made sure that Zuko and Katara had memorised at least the general layout of Omashu’s palace. There were a number of entrances to the tunnels Mai spoke of, but the most likely was inside the main entrance chamber, to the side. They made their way slowly, carefully, through the halls, waiting for gaps between patrolling guards and the odd servant. Only Fire Nation staff remained in the palace, none of the servants were Earth Kingdom.

Zuko crouched behind Katara in the shadows when they came to a more brightly lit hallway. Katara peered out and jerked back almost instantly. She pressed closer to him and Zuko caught the faint scent of the perfume she had worn during the day. It was jasmine, mixed with something sweeter…

The guard passed, not even glancing toward the darkness where they crouched. Once he had rounded the corner, Katara hurried forward and Zuko blinked, shaking his head as he focused on his mental map of the palace. They were getting close.

They found the entrance to the tunnels and continued down, lower and lower, the air growing colder the deeper they went. For a while, there was no sign of any guards. Maybe they had picked the wrong tunnel. Suddenly, they both flinched when a distant shuffle reached both their ears. Thankfully, they had reached a crossroads, and they both ducked into one of the side tunnels, just as the shuffle became a voice and two guards appeared, the light of an approaching torch bringing them into view as they drew closer.

“I hate the night shift,” one of them said to the other, “that’s the last time I complain about wages when the captain’s around.”

Zuko let out a quiet breath once they both passed and they stepped out of the shadows warily. Katara sighed for the tenth time that evening. It was the only sound she had made since they had returned to their chambers after dinner. They were both sleep deprived and anxious, and Zuko’s temper finally reached its limit.

“What?” He grumbled, keeping his voice low.

“What?” She asked, her voice more than a little irritated already.

“Something’s bothering you. We can’t afford any distractions right now. So what is it?”

“Distractions,” Katara huffed, continuing on, “right.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just think it’s ironic that you’re worried about me being distracted, when you’re busy flirting with your ex-girlfriend all day.”

Zuko stumbled. “What?”

Katara scoffed, not slowing. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Katara-” Zuko stiffened.

“I said don’t-”

Katara’s hushed words were cut off by Zuko’s hand as he hauled her backwards suddenly. The shadow came into view for only a split second before the guard that Zuko had heard approaching stepped around the corner. Zuko had already thrown himself and Katara into the tiny gap beside the corner, just hiding them from the guard’s sight as he came around and continued down the hall they had just come from, another guard following not far behind.

They were patrolling in pairs. Zuko watched them over his shoulder until they were out of sight. When they were alone again he let out the breath he was holding and turned back to Katara, whose back was pressed against the stone wall. Zuko suddenly remembered he had pressed up against her to keep them from being spotted. His hand was still over her mouth. He lifted it. Katara’s bright eyes were wide as they stared at him. Both of them had frozen until the guards’ footsteps had faded, and now they seemed to be waking up from some kind of spell. Katara’s perfume reached him again, and the warmth from her breath brushed his face. Her face was so close to his, even in the dim light, he could see a flush of colour rise on her cheeks. His eyes flicked lower before he shook himself, stepping back and leading them both back to the corner where the guard had come from.

The cavern they entered looked over a chasm that was so deep, it was pure blackness below. Katara peered over the edge, one hand on the low stone wall that was all that separated them from an unfortunate demise should they be careless with their footing. Over the centre of the massive hole, a huge metal box hung by multiple chains. There was a single ledge that jutted out from the pathway Zuko and Katara were on, which circled the entire cavern. The ledge reached just before the only door to the cell, stopping just a short distance away. There was a small machine near the edge, a lever sticking upwards. Zuko spotted a folded metal plate at the edge of the ledge, and guessed that it extended the rest of the way to the cell at the pull of the lever.

“So that’s how they keep him fed, I was wondering.” Zuko muttered.

“But how can we break him out?” Katara whispered. “There are so many guards on this level."

She was right, Zuko glanced around the cave, already there was another pair of guards getting closer to where they were hiding. They couldn’t stay long. Zuko counted the number of pairs before touching Katara’s elbow and turning away.

“We’ll think of something. The White Lotus could cause a distraction in the palace at the same time as the rebels. We’ll have to plan it perfectly.”

Katara glanced back at the cell once more before following Zuko back into the dark tunnel.

~

Chapter Text

Zuko opened his eyes the next morning despite his body still feeling heavy from exhaustion. Light and a chilly breeze floated in through the window across the room, making him squint and tense a little against the cold air. The warmth of the blankets and pillows promised to return him to the comfort of the half-dream he had left a moment ago and he breathed out slowly, pulling the covers higher.

He stopped. The blankets weren’t the only source of that gentle, coaxing warmth. At some point during the night, the pillows between Katara and him had rolled away, or perhaps been pushed away… Sleep quickly drifted out of reach as Zuko stared at Katara’s sleeping face. In the tiny bed, Katara must have rolled towards him for warmth, and Zuko realised that he was also occupying more of the middle of the bed than his side. If he moved now though, he would certainly wake her.

It was the second time Zuko had watched Katara sleep, and he felt for a moment as if he was back home, his biggest concern simply keeping Azula in check. Katara’s soft expression tugged at something in his chest and he remembered how much he wanted to protect her, how much the thought of Azula hurting her scared him. When he first saw his sister lying on the bank the night of the attack, he had been gutted, yes, but his thoughts quickly returned to Katara, certain that she had no other choice, and that somehow made it forgivable.

Warmth spread through him as he lifted a hand to her cheek. By the time Zuko realised what he was doing, it was too late to pull his hand away. Katara opened her eyes. For one, endless moment, they simply looked at each other. Zuko’s heart hammered in his chest, his hand still raised over her face. Katara blinked slowly, blearily. Zuko could see the sleep gradually leaving her eyes as she focused on him. She didn’t move, her face held no shock and she didn’t jerk back in disgust. She only looked at him, something like a question in her eyes. Zuko could drown in those eyes, they looked between his like she was searching for something.

Maybe he was still half asleep, or maybe it was just that he was so sick of being angry, but he let his hand reach for her forehead. He brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes, not looking away from them. To his surprise, Katara’s hand found his, stopping him before he could pull away. Zuko blinked at her. Katara’s forehead creased a little as she gave him a slightly pained look.

The memory of last night flared to life in Zuko’s mind, and he suddenly remembered being pressed against her, their equally panicked heartbeats side by side in the darkness. A strange feeling came over him and in that moment he forgot about the plan, the White Lotus and even the Fire Nation. Katara opened her mouth to say something but the words never left her lips, because Zuko’s covered them in the next second.

Katara breathed in sharply but arched beneath him as he rose over her. He planted an elbow beside her and the few pillows still between them flew off the bed. His other hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. Katara moaned softly and Zuko’s pulse leapt when he felt her hands slip around his neck, threading through his hair. Zuko pressed his body against hers, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her nightgown. A dangerous heat spread through him.

“Zuko.”

Hearing his name whispered so breathlessly stirred an emotion in him that he had never felt before. Something long forgotten, a weightlessness he hadn’t known in years, made him feel like he could just float away, unburdened by the fear and grief that surrounded them daily. He wanted to forget, even if it was just for a second.

“Zuko, wait.”

Katara’s hand was on his chest, his robe hanging loose. She would be able to feel his heart beating hurriedly under his skin. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, trying to gather his thoughts.

“We can’t…” she shook her head, trying to find the right words, “we’re not safe here, and we need to talk about-”

“I don’t want to talk.” Zuko’s voice sounded gravelly to his own ears. “I don’t want to think.”

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, willing her to understand. He breathed in the smell of her hair, the traces of soap and perfume from the night before. His heart ached to return to that blissful state of unawareness from moments ago. Katara’s hand touched his face and he drew back a little to look at her. The tension seeped out of his shoulders as he gazed at her painfully sad expression.

“I’m tired,” he said, no energy left to hide it anymore, “I’m tired of hating, of resenting… Azula was my sister, but…” Zuko’s eyes fund Katara’s and he felt his throat tighten, “I thought she had killed you, that night you tried to get to Yue.”

Katara’s face crumpled a little, remembering Yue.

“I was so scared.” Zuko swallowed. “And when I found her, and I knew it was you… I didn’t hate you for it… Not then.”

Katara shook her head, tears building in her eyes. She squeezed them shut and Zuko brushed her hair back gently once more. Katara looked up at him, the tears starting to spill down her temples.

“I don’t hate you for it.” Zuko said, his voice wavering a little. “I wish I did,” he frowned, “but I can’t.”

“You should.” Katara swallowed back more tears, blinking. “You should hate me.”

Zuko shook his head. Katara’s hand moved to his chest again and curled into a fist. She closed her eyes and let out a short breath. She pushed against him and slid out from beneath him. Zuko shuddered, a little from the cold that came when she got out of the bed, but also from the shock of what had just transpired. Shame swept over him and he covered his mouth with a shaky hand, as if he could take back what he had said. Katara was already pulling on her robes and hurrying out of the room.

~

Chapter Text

Zuko lay in bed long after Katara disappeared, the silence in the room deafening. He had no desire to get up, could think of no reason to keep up their performance for their hosts. What did it matter? The longer he lay there, the deeper he felt himself sinking into despondency. But they had a war to fight, even now. Something else Katara said nagged at him, casting a persistent, exasperating light into the shadow of his despair. They weren’t safe here.

Zuko groaned and dragged himself out of bed. There was an ache in his chest. He looked to the window and saw the city below, still held captive by the Fire Nation. His nation. He scowled and pulled on his robes. They still had a job to do, and he couldn’t let his confused and conflicted emotions get in the way. Whatever happened between Katara and him, if anything would happen, the mission had to be completed. If they failed, whatever he did or didn’t feel would cease to matter, they wouldn’t survive to find out.

Katara wasn’t at breakfast, neither was Hide or Mai. Zuko frowned, the whole room was bare, not even a servant in sight. It wasn’t particularly early, nor was it too late for anyone to be eating. An unease began to settle over Zuko’s shoulders. He need to find Katara, something wasn’t right. Just as he turned and stepped back into the hallway, something moved in the corner of his eye and Zuko spun. He had no time to react as something struck the back of his head. Pain flared and his vision faded but Zuko was aware of hands grabbing him before everything went dark.

When he woke, his head throbbed and he opened his eyes to find himself lying on a cold stone floor. His side ached where he lay and he groaned as he sat up. Zuko knew he would find several bruises across his body later. He became aware of other bodies in the room, movement nearby had him scanning the space.

He was in a cage of some sort, metal like the king’s but they weren’t as deep below ground as that suspended cell, the air wasn’t as cold here. They were underground however, somewhere beneath the palace. Zuko frowned up at his captor. Hide stood just outside the cell, keys hanging on his belt. Zuko stood, careful not to show how his muscles ached at the movement. There were two guards behind Hide, more at the entrance to the room.

“You really have some nerve coming here,” Hide said as Zuko nonchalantly brushed dirt off his sleeves. “According to official reports,” he raised a scroll with one hand, emblazoned with Fire Nation insignia, “you’re a wanted man. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out eventually?”

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long,” Zuko drawled, “but then, you were never the brightest ember in the ashes.”

Hide’s face went from pink to crimson and Zuko wondered if provoking him was really the best idea. But it felt so satisfying to see that act drop, the loathing that Hide tried and failed to hide burned in his eyes as he glared at Zuko.

“Well,” Hide said, seeming to calm a little, “it doesn’t really matter, I suppose. This little act with you and your war criminal of a wife is at an end. Oh yes,” Hide smiled a little when Zuko failed to hide a flinch, “I know about her. You, they want brought back to the capital alive to face your punishment, but her…”

Hide’s grin made Zuko’s stomach lurch. “What have you done with her?” He growled.

But there was a break in that haughty smile. Zuko blinked, frowning when Hide didn’t say anything for a moment. Then Zuko laughed.

“You don’t have her.” Zuko leaned back against the wall of the cage, crossing his arms.

“She won’t get far.”

“No, probably not.” Zuko smiled a little.

Hide cocked his head a little at that. “You don’t seem worried.”

“Not for her.”

Hide opened his mouth to say something but the confusion on his face deepened when they heard shouts in the distance. Hide turned to the door, as did the guards when the sounds of fighting grew louder. Someone was firebending somewhere beyond the door. The sounds stopped. Hide waved a hand at the guards by the door.

“Go see what’s going on.”

The guards nodded and left, closing the door behind them. Hide turned back to Zuko.

“Trouble?” Zuko raised an eyebrow.

“Hardly,” Hide scowled, “before I send you back to your father in chains, tell me about the resistance.”

Zuko just looked at Hide.

“You wouldn’t have been able to elude the Fire Nation alone, you had help. Who else is involved?”

Hide growled in frustration when Zuko still did not answer him.

Before he can ask another question, a terrible crashed sounded just behind the door. There was a cry of alarm and the sound of something splashing before there was silence again. Zuko smirked.

“What the hell is that?” Hide stared at the door.

Zuko chuckled softly and straightened as Hide turned back to him. He grinned broadly.

“My wife is here.”

The door burst open and a stream of water shot directly towards the remaining guards. The closest one flew backwards and crashed into the other. The stream curved and circled back to the door. Katara stood on the threshold, arms extended as she continued to waterbend. Her form was excellent, improved unimaginably with just a few weeks of practice. But even without the instruction of Master Paku, she was a natural. Zuko watched as she turned on Hide next, his bending no match for hers. The single stream became two and Katara expertly seized his arms, immobilising them and turning the liquid manacles to ice in seconds. Hide struggled with all his might but he was brought to his knees where he stood, arms pinned to the ground beside him.

Katara calmly descended the small flight of stairs to where he knelt, before Zuko’s cage, and tugged the keys from his belt. Ignoring Hide’s grunting and cursing, Katara straightened and finally turned to look at Zuko. Neither of them said a word but the memory of that morning was still fresh in his mind, as he knew it was in hers. A palpable tension stretched between them, taut as a bow.

There was a glint of metal nearby and Zuko only registered the knife after it found its mark. The blade buried itself in Katara’s shoulder, causing her to drop the keys.

“Katara!” Zuko dashed to the bars.

Katara whirled to face the attacker but a second knife lodged itself in her thigh. She dropped to the ground, the remaining water she had summoned from the bag at her hip splattered across the stone around her. Zuko shoved the bars of the cage door. It didn’t budge. He looked up as someone came through the door. Stepping out of the shadows, her usually impassive face drawn with anger, was Mai.

“Mai,” Zuko huffed, his eyes dashing between her and Katara, fearing another knife would appear, “what are you doing?”

“What are you doing, Zuko?”

Mai’s voice was more animated than Zuko had ever heard it. Even when she had broken up with him, there was anger, yes, but Mai always kept a tight grip on that. She was sad then, more than anything, and while Zuko regretted causing Mai pain ever since, at the time he hadn’t seen how lost he had been, how angry he had been at himself. And Mai had suffered for it.

Mai palmed another knife but held onto it. She closed the door behind her and walked to the top of the stairs. She began making her way down to where Katara and Hide both kneeled, slowly, watching him. Zuko’s grip on the bars tightened.

“Don’t touch her.” Zuko’s voice sounded harsh even to his own ears. “Or I swear-”

“What,” Mai said sharply, “what will you do? What can you do, Zuko? And in any case,” she stepped around Katara entirely, approaching the bars, “why do you care so much? I know it was your father’s plan for you to marry into the Water Tribe, this wasn’t your idea. What is she to you, really? She’s just some peasant from the South Pole.”

Zuko set his jaw as Mai stopped just out of reach. Behind her, Katara tried and failed to get to her feet. She cried out in pain as more blood flowed from the wound in her leg. Zuko tensed, every muscle in his body straining to run to her. Mai jerked back then and Zuko’s gaze flicked back to her.

“You’re in love with her.” She said it with disbelief, horror blooming on her face.

Zuko didn’t know how to respond, he looked back at Katara, who was bent over on the floor. Her face was drained of colour and sweat gleamed at her temples. She looked up when Mai said that, however, almost equally as shocked as Mai.

“Zuko,” Mai leaned closer, something desperate in her eyes now, “she killed Azula. She murdered your sister.”

“My sister,” Zuko said, his voice weak, “was a monster.” He dragged his eyes back to Mai’s.

Zuko knew Mai remembered the relentless teasing, the pranks, the bullying. They were just a taste of Azula’s cruelty. In the years to come, her sharp tongue and heartless disregard for those around her, even her closest friends, proved to do more than foster healthy rivalry between them. Mai, as well as their other friend Ty Lee, drew away, not out of indifference, but fear. That fear flashed in Mai’s eyes when Zuko looked back at her.

“I failed her.” Zuko let the pain show on his face, the regret. “I let her slip further and further away until there was nothing left but the beast our father created. This war,” Zuko glanced up at the ceiling, imagining the palace above, “all of this,” he gestured angrily at the cell, “it’s wrong. We’re on the wrong side, Mai, the Fire Nation has taken too much from the world, from us.”

Mai shook her head, her eyes wide. “I don’t know who you are anymore, Zuko. I loved you once, but you’re going too far. This is treason.” She stepped back towards her husband, who was watching them with clear revulsion.

Katara’s arms shook as she pushed herself into a half-sitting position, one hand pressed against her bloody shoulder. Zuko threw himself against the cell door. Mai stooped and picked up the keys Katara had dropped, turning back to Hide, whose struggling resumed against his frozen bonds. Suddenly the door burst open once more and everyone’s eyes snapped to the landing.

A Fire Nation guard stood there, but not one of Hide’s. He wasn’t one of Zuko’s either, not one of the White Lotus. Tattooed arrows peaked out from beneath the armour as the guard raised his hands to remove his helmet. When he did, it revealed more tattoos on a pale, bald head. The Avatar winked at Zuko before he closed his eyes and pressed his fists together. The tattoos began to glow and Zuko shielded his eyes as Aang entered the Avatar state. The air in the room seemed to come alive, swirling violently. The remaining soldiers in the room, now stirring, were quickly thrown back as the room became the site of a cyclone. Zuko and Katara seemed to be placed squarely in the centre of it, untouched.

As the air around them continued to whirl past, throwing guards around the room in the blink of an eye, Aang walked forward, the air around him lifting him over the banister. He hovered over Hide and Mai, Zuko and Katara who could only stare. Aang snapped his fingers and sparked a flame, guiding a growing line of fire to wrap around his arm like a snake. His other hand, he flicked, and the water that lay around Katara rose and formed an identical serpent. Hide tried to scurry back, the terror in his eyes visible even to Zuko, but his arms were still held tight in the ice Katara had trapped them in. Mai, though paling at the sight of the Avatar, did not even yield a step.

Ignoring Hide, Aang bended the stone beneath Mai, broken bits of rock rising like a cocoon to envelop her body, leaving only her head free. Aang released his control on the elements, the show over, dropping the guards still flying around the room. They all fell to the ground and none of them moved after that. Aang turned to look at Zuko and Katara, who were still staring at him. He smirked. Raising one hand, he made a fist, and the stone beneath the door to Zuko’s cell cracked, jutting upwards. The metal of the door screamed as the hinges were torn free and Zuko pushed it open enough to squeeze out. He hurried to Katara’s side.

“Go.” Aang glanced at Katara as Zuko carefully helped her to her feet. “More soldiers will come, the White Lotus is gathering outside.”

“What about you?” Zuko asked.

“I’ll find the king.” Aang turned back to Hide and Mai, both speechless, eyes locked on the Avatar.

A boom sounded in the distance as Zuko and Katara started up the stairs. They looked back at Aang in alarm. Aang chuckled and answered the unasked question.

“I sent word to the rebels to push forward their distraction. You need to move now.”

The letter Katara has slipped Long in the market the day before had detailed their plan to break the king out that night, they needed a series of explosions to keep the Fire Nation soldiers busy while they worked. It seemed their schedule had indeed been pushed up.

“The entrance to the tunnels, the one by the main door,” Zuko said to Aang, “head straight down, you’ll find the cavern.”

Aang smiled and Zuko nodded one last time to Aang before tightening his grip on Katara and they hurried as quickly as they could to the surface.

Underground, Aang made his way to the king’s cell. Guards surrounded the cavern, lit by bio-luminescent algae on the ceiling of the cave. Slipping into the Avatar state now was as easy as pulling on a coat. Though he could feel Kyoshi’s thirst for blood, and Roku’s cold indifference to the disappointing descendants of the Fire Nation he knew, Aang had no desire to cause more harm than he already had. He sent a whirlwind around the pathway that circled the chasm. Strong enough to scare the guards and send them running, but not enough to blow them over the edge and into the rocky ravine below.

He didn’t wait for the guards to flee before he calmly walked to the ledge that led out to the cell. By now, he knew well the effect the Avatar had on people, particularly the Fire Nation. By the time he reached the door, there was no one left in the cavern. Still in the Avatar state, Aang ignored the bickering of Roku and Kyoshi audible only to him, and focused on channelling their collective power into bending a layer of rock into a spinning blade. He brought it to the door and, wincing a little at the terrible sound it made, carved it open. The entire cell wall fell away, the metal peeling back like it was nothing but a tin. Inside, a figure sat calmly on the floor, as if meditating. He tilted his head a little when Aang gently set down on the floor inside the suspended cell.

“Hello old friend.” The king said, opening his eyes.

Aang smiled. “It’s been a long time, Bumi.”

~

Chapter Text

Karata grit her teeth against the sharp pain as she gingerly sat. Zuko's arm slipped away once he helped her into a sitting position. The knife in her thigh was sending continuous waves of agony that radiated outward. Nausea began to build from the constant pain and she forced herself to take slower breaths. The White Lotus did not have the carriage they had arrived in but quickly readied a cart once they caught sight of Katara limping out of the palace, Zuko the only thing keeping her from collapsing onto the ground in a heap. The cabbages were tossed from the cart, much to the dismay of the cabbage merchant it belonged to. Indeed, his lamenting cries echoed over the city walls even now.

Zuko climbed into the cart but didn’t sit. Instead, he crouched in front of Katara and inspected her leg. He didn’t touch the knife, moving quickly to the other one lodged in her shoulder.
“Don’t touch them,” he said, concern creasing his brow, “if we accidentally dislodge them you’ll bleed out.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Katara muttered before she grabbed the handle of the knife in her leg and yanked upwards.
She cried out as more blood welled and clutched her bloody thigh, trying and failing to keep the wound closed with her bare hands.
“Water.” She groaned at a panicked Zuko.
“Water?” He stared at her uselessly.
Katara groaned again and turned towards one of the White Lotus members. “I need water. Now.” She flung out her hand.

The started man fumbled for his own water bag and held it out to her, obviously confused. Katara ignored both his and Zuko’s questioning stares and breathed as slowly as she could to steady her shaking hands. After a few breaths, she uncorked the waterskin and pulled the water out, encasing her hand in a liquid glove. Katara pressed her gloved hand against the wound, ignoring how the blood still poured out of it, now mixing with the water, turning it red. She focused on the feel of the energy as she bended the water over the wound.

Slowly, the pain began to fade to a duller, throbbing ache. She couldn’t see the wound beneath her hand, but she felt the skin around it tighten, pulling back together. It was uncomfortable, but the pain faded with every pulse. In seconds, the wound was closed and Katara sagged, suddenly light-headed. The pain was reduced to a bruise-like ache, obviously she would need another session, probably from Pakku himself. She still hadn’t quite picked up the more delicate mending her muscles needed now. Katara sighed, she had lost a lot of blood, which explained the light-headedness that lingered.

She tried to sit up straighter but was instantly reminded of the knife in her shoulder. She winced and she remembered that Zuko was there when he stood and moved closer. Katara grimaced as she looked up at his once again serious expression. She preferred his shocked expression when she pulled the knife out of her leg. Katara reached around to her back to do the same with the other one but couldn’t quite reach it. The pain when she tried to drew an involuntary sob from her throat.

“Don’t.” Zuko grabbed her wrist, gently.
Katara didn’t have the energy to argue with him, letting her head fall forward.
“You can’t reach it to mend it anyway.” He sounded frustrated.
Katara leaned forward when he touched her other shoulder and peered behind her. When he gently tested the area around the blade with his fingers, she hissed at the pain that flared. Zuko retracted instantly and turned to the White Lotus member.

“Do we have a healer here?”
The man nodded and hurried away. When he came back, a woman was with him, and she immediately climbed into the cart to tend to Katara. By the time she had finished wrapping her shoulder to keep it, and the knife, as immobilised as possible, another, delayed explosion sounded from behind the wall. Through the open gate, they could see Fire Nation guards running from something just before a cloud of dust followed in their wake, as if something huge had crashed to the ground somewhere nearby. Katara gripped the side of her seat and squinted. Within the dust cloud, two figures were growing in size rapidly, much too fast to have been considered approaching at a normal pace.

In the next moment she understood why, as the dust parted and Aang’s distinctive, blue tattoos came into view. He was sitting on a ball of spinning air, riding it like a ball. Beside him, a very old man, hunched over at the neck, surfed towards them, nothing but solid rock beneath him, but it rumbled and rolled under his feet like waves, regardless. Katara blinked at the sight, wondering if the blood loss had finally gone to her head.

Aang grinned as they came to a stop just before the cart. The rest of the White Lotus started banding together and two of them grabbed either side of the cart. The started rolling away and Katara groaned again at the jerking motion. Aang and the old man kept pace behind them, Zuko beside her, one hand on the side of the cart.

“Won’t they come after us?” Katara managed to say between bouts of dizziness.

The king turned back to Omashu and stamped his foot once, barely breaking his pace. The gate surged up in less than a second, the boom of it locking into place seamlessly echoed through the valley below. Aang chuckled and joked with the old man, as if they were old friends, Katara supposed they could very well have been. With every painful bump and shudder of the cart, the wound became less an urgent spasm in her back than a growing haze of pain. The blood loss was definitely getting to her. Katara didn’t realise she was swaying until she felt a shoulder beneath her cheek and hand on her back, steadying her. She blinked drowsily to the figure beside her to find Zuko had climbed into the cart. When, she wasn’t sure, apparently, she was drifting in and out of consciousness now. Perfect.

The ship rocked in that familiar, comforting rhythm, Zuko could almost forget the anxiety that had gripped him ever since he watched Katara wrench that knife out of her leg. There was little they could do about the other wound, it continued to bleed as they made their way back to the ship at a painfully slow pace. He gazed back at the coast that drew further and further away. He hadn’t thought to ask about the people they left behind until Katara had been tended to. King Bumi had smiled, like the whole colonisation was just a joke they were all playing on the Fire Nation. They had never been captives, he had told Zuko, a look on his face that gave Zuko the impression that the king wasn’t quite all there, their loyalty to their king was all that kept the citizens of Omashu from wreaking havoc on the governor’s forces. Now that they knew that he was not only freed, but aiding the Avatar in the fight against the Fire Nation, it wouldn’t be long before the Fire Nation colonist found themselves limping back to the Fire Nation empty-handed.

Zuko had remained by Katara’s side until he was shooed away by the particularly bossy head healer onboard. By the time he had been allowed back into the room where she was now resting, the knife was gone from her shoulder, the sun was setting. Katara was lying on her front, her shoulder bandaged. The healer left the room, reminding Zuko that she needed rest, and muttered something about stubborn royals as he strode out. Zuko’s eyes drifted to the small of Katara’s back, which was bare, the bandages stopping just below her shoulder blade. He made his way to her side, she didn’t even stir. Out of some strange protectiveness that came over him, or perhaps it was just instinct, Zuko found his hand reaching for the thin cover draped over Katara’s hips, and lifted it, gently covering her exposed skin.

“Mmm.” She opened her eyes slowly, spotting him standing over her. “Too warm…” she mumbled.
“Not feeling a little exposed?” He asked, a small smile finding its way to his face.
“What, around my own husband?” Her words came a little slurred, and Zuko glanced at the empty bottle on the counter nearby.
“How’s the pain?”
“Mmm,” Katara closed her eyes again, “tolerable.”
“How did you do that, before?” Zuko asked, dragging a stool to sit beside her. “You used waterbending to heal your leg. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Something Pakku taught me, I’m still getting the hang of it.” She blew out a long sigh. “Female waterbenders in the North used to be healers, not fighters, stupid if you ask me.”
Zuko scoffed. “I think it came in pretty handy today.”
Katara opened her eyes long enough to glare at him.
“Women can be fighters too.” She said with as much adamance as her drug-addled state would allow.
“I don’t think anyone who has met you would argue that.” Zuko smiled at her, leaning an elbow on the table she lay on.

Katara huffed, but she smiled a little. Zuko watched her face relax as the medicine drew her back into a muddy, dreamlike state. Her breathing became slower and he waited until she fell asleep again. Now that they were alone, the memory of what had happened between them that morning sprang to the surface once more. Zuko felt his cheeks warm and he found himself looking away from Katara. He didn’t want to think about how she had fled after, the hole that seemed to open up in his chest…

Later, when Hide had captured him, and Katara was lying on the ground, bleeding… reason had left him. Suddenly, it didn’t matter what had happened between them, it didn’t matter that his own anger over Azula had been vying for the very much opposing feelings towards Katara. He only knew that she was hurt, and he needed to get her to safety. Confident that Katara was once again dragged under by the medicine, Zuko let that impulse to reach for her drive him again, not willing to hold it back anymore.

He brushed the hair from her face, tucking a stray piece behind her ear. Her steady breathing didn’t so much as shift. What had possessed him to even consider his father’s order to scar her? In the end, he couldn’t bear the thought of her marked like him, but that he had set out to carry out his father’s wishes at all, once he knew what was asked of him…
Never.
He would never raise a hand to her. Even if she later woke, the toxins now fogging her mind gone from her system, and she went back to keeping that wall between them, Zuko could no longer deny that his heart was tied to this woman. When she was in danger, he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. The thought had occurred to him that staying by her side only put her in more danger, but he knew her courage well enough that she would never stand down from a fight if she thought she could help. That tenacity only made him fall further in love with her.

Is that what this was? Love? Zuko sighed, raking a hand through his loose hair. Both of them were covered in dust from the whirlwind Aang had summoned underground, and Zuko found his hair was coated in it. Katara’s back and shoulders had been cleaned when her wound was tended to, but her hair was still layered with it. Zuko smiled, he wasn’t sure why, but he shook himself and the logical part of his brain finally made an appearance. He needed to bathe, and while they were on a ship, with little in the way of luxuries like bathtubs, he had spent a good deal of time living on the water and knew that they should use the opportunities they had to maintain hygiene. He left Katara to sleep, perhaps he could pretend, for now, that things had gone differently that morning.

~

Chapter Text

Katara woke, her shoulder aching, but the sharp, tearing pain was gone. Whatever the healers had given her when they finally made it back to the ship had done its job, all she remembered was drifting further and further into a pleasant, fuzzy sleep.

Something nagged at the back of her mind, some memory, perhaps of a dream slipping further away with every second awakeness dawned, reduced to nothing but a warm, comforting feeling. It must have been a good dream, she had so few of those lately.

Katara tested the muscles on her back, tensing once, then twice, before shifting her hands to steady herself on the bed. She was still lying on her front, naked from the waist up, save for the bandages wrapping her shoulder and the blanket that fell from her back as she slowly, painfully, pushed herself to a sitting position.

The knife wound, she remembered vividly, and the rest of the day’s events appeared in her mind when she looked for them, fitting into place like pieces of a puzzle. They had succeeded, the king was free. Warmth bloomed on her cheeks when she recalled their clumsy escape. Zuko had all but carried her from the dungeon. He had hovered about her like a worried mother arctic-hen and remained by her side until they made it back to the ship.

Groaning, Katara slipped from the bed and gently tested her footing. Immediately, pain flared from her thigh and she gasped. The wound was closed, she had managed that much, but just from the sensation, she could tell the muscle beneath the healed skin was still damaged. When she pulled her pants down a little to see wound, she winced at the dark bruising that had formed around the still-pink scar. Katara quickly readjusted her pants. She looked around for a tunic or coat to cover herself.

The door swung open and a wide-eyed firebending prince stood in the doorway.
“Katara! Are you alr-”
Katara froze, staring at Zuko. He stared right back. Colour rose to his cheeks and Katara remembered she was half-naked. Zuko yelped and turned away, a hand rising to cover his eyes. He scrambled to shut the door and was gone before Katara managed to feel embarrassed.
“Sorry!” He called from the other side of the door. “I thought you might be hurt…” He trailed off.

Katara grabbed the tunic that had been left on a stool nearby and awkwardly pulled it over her head with one arm, keeping her left arm as close to her body as possible. She could quite help the gasp that left her when she had to move her shoulder to put her arm through the hole.
“Katara?” Zuko’s worried voice sounded a little muffled from behind the door, but he didn’t open it.
“I’m fine,” she called, “you can come in.”

The door opened once again, slowly. Zuko glanced at Katara once, then lowered his eyes to the floor. Katara found herself smirking a little at the prince’s embarrassment.
“Sorry.” He closed the door behind him and stayed beside it.
“It’s fine.” Katara stifled a grin.

Zuko glanced around awkwardly. Katara spotted her shoes in the corner and took a step towards them. Apparently, she had forgotten about the injury in her leg. She crumpled to the floor immediately, her thigh refusing to bear any weight. Katara managed to grab hold of the bed beside her, but she lost her footing anyway. She gasped again as the floor rose up to meet her.

She didn’t fall, however. In the next moment, Zuko was across the room and his arms were around her. Katara’s head spun from the sudden movement, still weak from blood loss. Zuko’s features swam a little and she had to close her eyes for a few seconds as nausea rolled through her. Zuko straightened slowly, easing Katara into a standing position once more. Five seconds passed, ten…

“Are you ok?” Zuko asked, anxiety in his voice again.
“Fine,” Katara nodded but didn’t open her eyes yet, “just dizzy, I just need a second…”

Katara breathed slowly and eventually, her head stopped spinning. She opened her eyes and, with more effort than she would have like to admit, she focused on Zuko’s face. There was sunlight filtering into the room from the window behind her, and one of his eyes gleamed as a stream of light crossed his face. Katara found herself blinking at the brilliant amber of his irises, a trait, she had learned, that was common amongst firebenders. No, she decided, unable to look away from the flecks of gold that shone in the sunlight, not these eyes. They were entirely unique, radiant, beautiful.

Zuko smelled of freshly cleaned clothes and some herb or spice she couldn’t name. There was the faint scent of smoke as well, like he had been standing near a fire. Katara blinked again, wondering if she had taken a hit to the head as well. Of course he smelled like fire.

“What’s wrong?”
Katara focused on Zuko’s face again, realising she had been frowning at herself.
“I-” She made the mistake of meeting his eyes again.

Zuko waited, he seemed to realise she wasn’t going to say anything because he smiled. Before she could think of a reason not to, Katara returned it. They were safe, the king was free and the Fire Nation no longer controlled Omashu.

“We did it.” She said quietly.
“We did.” Zuko grinned.
“We’re out.” She practically sighed it, closing her eyes again in relief.
“We are.” Zuko said, even more quietly.

Katara glanced up at him then, and realised he was still holding her. Zuko didn’t react, keeping his arm around her even now that she had regained her balance. Katara gazed at Zuko, not sure why, but she was as unwilling to bring attention to their proximity as he seemed to be. A strange panic jolted through her, in that moment. It was almost as if the two of them, alone, was simply… wrong. But she couldn’t look away.

A knock on the door broke the spell, and Katara remembered where they were. Zuko seemed to make the same realisation, he helped her sit back on the bed as someone came in through the door.

“About time,” Aang said, casually, “I was beginning to wonder if you’d wake up before we got back to Beifong manor.”
Katara scoffed but found herself grinning a little.
“Still,” Aang came to a stop beside Zuko, who was still fussing, he had fetched her shoes and handed them to her now, “I have to say, two knife wounds in one day? Pretty ambitious. Most people take to collecting shells or tapestries - they’re slightly less… stabby.”

Aang raised an eyebrow at Zuko, who had decided to busy himself with checking the bandages Katara’s shoulder. The tunic, while sleeveless, covered most of the bandages, and Zuko was no healer, but he seemed to be checking if nothing had come loose when she got up. Finally, he nodded, apparently satisfied, and straightened. He turned back to find Aang and Katara staring at him.

“What?” Zuko glanced between them, colour rising to his cheeks.

Aang scoffed softly and looked down at the tonics and medicines on the table beside them. Katara looked at Zuko a little longer, she couldn’t help the smile that escaped before she lowered her eyes, a strange, warm feeling spreading through her briefly.

“Anywayyyy,” Aang drawled, picking up a bottle at random and squinting at it as though he had any idea what it was, “we’re almost home, we’ll be docking in Gaoling in an hour. I’ll let the healer know you’re awake.”
Katara nodded, offering Aang a smile.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Aang tipped his head at Zuko, a conspiratorial smile on his lips.
“Wait!” Katara called out as Aang stepped through the door.
Aang paused, turning back.
“Thank you.”

Aang seemed confused for a moment, but smiled again, genuinely. He nodded at them both and made to turn again. Zuko called out to him before he could leave, though.

“The White Lotus won’t be pleased.” Zuko practically chastised, making Katara blink up at him in surprise. “You put yourself at risk.”
“And it paid off.” Aang’s expression darked for a second. “I’m not some secret weapon for the White Lotus to wield how they see fit. The Avatar’s duty is to the world, not just them.”

Zuko closed his mouth, taken aback by the shift in Aang’s mood. Katara reached for his hand, surprising them both. They blinked at each other before she covered her embarrassment with a cough, jerking her hand away to cover her mouth.

Aang clicked his tongue, Katara glanced back at him. The seriousness was gone, that playful smile back on Aang’s face.

“I’ll see you two on deck.” He ducked out again, not looking back.

It was a challenge to climb into the small boat that would take them to shore. Katara had only just gotten her ragged breathing under control by the time they had gotten to the dock outside of Gaoling. Zuko remained by her side, even once they were safely seated inside the carriage the White Lotus had sent for them. Katara found she was hyper aware of his presence beside her now, the warmth of his arm raised goosebumps on her own. She aimed her attention on the road outside, her other arm resting on the window sill beside her, but every other of her senses was tuned to Zuko. Every time he shifted, sighed, glanced her way, she had to force herself not to react. Why it was suddenly an effort to act normal around him, she wasn’t sure.

When they arrived back at the manor, Pakku was waiting outside, along with Iroh and the swordsman, whose name Katara had forgotten. The White Lotus members around the carriage scattered, falling into rank immediately and reporting to their superiors. The only other people who remained beside the carriage once Zuko helped Katara out, her leg throbbing terribly now, were Aang and the king.

Pakku hurried over to Katara’s side, slipping an arm around her as well. Between Zuko and Pakku, Katara sighed as the weight on her leg was halved. Iroh and the other Grand Lotuses watched Aang approach with flat expressions.

“They don’t look happy,” Katara muttered, the pain in her shoulder flaring as they started walking to the house.
“The White Lotus agreed that the Avatar was too valuable to risk on a mission that was so…” Pakku trailed off.
“Reckless? Half-baked?” Katara supplied.
“Risky,” Pakku said tensely.
“He’s not a weapon for the White Lotus to decide how or when to wield.” Katara found herself responding just as tensely.

She sensed Zuko turning to glance at her but ignored him. Pakku also tensed at her words, but they didn’t stop, crossing the threshold and guiding Katara to a prepared bed in a small side chamber. Zuko and Pakku gently helped her sit and Katara’s shoulders drooped immediately. Her leg felt like it was on fire, her bound shoulder a distant twinge by comparison. It was all she could do to hold onto the side of the bed and not slide off while Pakku and Zuko spoke, their worried voices becoming muffled to her ears.

There was a sudden coldness on her thigh and the pain all but disappeared in the next moment. Katara gasped and sat forward, almost falling off the bed in the process. Zuko managed to grab her in time, Katara turned her face away from him to hide her embarrassment for needing him to catch her again. Pakku continued the slow, constant movements as he waterbended over her swollen leg.

“You healed the surface of the wound,” he said without looking at her, “but you were impatient. The muscle beneath is badly torn, it will take time to mend.”

Katara didn’t care enough to quip that she was acutely aware of her own insufficient treatment, the relief was so sweet that her head spun once more. She felt Zuko’s hands tighten on her arms and realised she had swayed.

“Can I lie down?” She asked, suddenly exhausted.
Pakku looked up long enough to consider her and nodded. Zuko helped her lift her legs onto the bed and a moment later she was asleep.

Katara woke in darkness, and for a moment she didn’t know where she was. Was their escape only a dream? Was she still back in Omashu, trapped beneath the palace, awaiting the governor’s punishment. Or worse, his wife.

But her shoulder moved freely when she sat up and spun around to try and make out her surroundings. There was no pain, and she could scarcely remember which leg the other knife had landed in. The bed she sat in was soft, spacious and, she realised, familiar. She was in her room in Beifong manor. Her body completely mended, Katara climbed out of bed and stumbled blindly to where she knew the curtains were. She wrenched them to the side but stared, gaping at the darkness that still lay beyond.

How long had she been asleep for? Katara looked down at herself, in the little extra brightness that filled the room from the moonlight. She was in a short, clean robe, warm pants and thick socks. The night was chilly, and someone had taken enough care to make sure she was warm. Katara turned away from the window. What time was it? The sound of Katara’s stomach grumbling begged a more pressing question. How long had it been since she’d eaten?

The kitchen was mercifully empty, but Katara remembered where the pantry was. There was enough uneaten bread from the day, packed away for storage, to feed half an army. As it was, with the entire White Lotus returned to Gaoling, they would need it. Katara snatched two buns, then put both in one hand and grabbed two more. The servants would be baking more in the morning anyway.

Katara ripped a bun in half and shoved a piece into her mouth before she even left the pantry. She had barely finished chewing before the other half was in her mouth as well. Katara stepped back into the kitchen and froze. One of the buns fell from her hand as she locked eyes with her equally startled companion.

Zuko stood by the table in the middle of the kitchen, a steaming cup of tea in one hand. He must have just walked in because he looked just as shocked to see her as she was to be caught pilfering the Beifongs’ stores. She wasn’t about to explain herself, not seeing much point as she had literally been caught red-handed, but also because she couldn’t without spitting bread all over the place.
Zuko blinked, a confused frown creasing the space between his brows. The longer they stared at each other without speaking, the more the awkwardness grew. Katara chewed the bread. Chewed faster. By the time she could swallow and opened her mouth to explain, hands raised, still clutching two more buns, Zuko hadn’t even moved a muscle.

“Before you say anything-” she began, still chewing a little.
“You’re awake.”

Katara blinked. Obviously. She swallowed the rest of the bread and lowered her arms. She looked at him, properly. Zuko’s wide eyes were a little red, he seemed exhausted, despite being awake when everyone else seemed to be asleep. Which could only mean he couldn’t sleep. Katara glanced at his hand, knuckles white as he gripped the cup tightly, apparently impervious to the heat. Again, she realised, obviously.

Her gaze lingered, however, on Zuko’s hand, at the gold ring that was still slipped onto his finger. The sight of it stirred something in Katara, something that made her heart beat a little faster, her body desperate to either escape, or…
Zuko followed her gaze and she saw him tense. Katara’s eyes snapped up to Zuko’s face, there was a look of surprise, as if he had forgotten he was still wearing the ring.

“It’s funny,” he said, touching the ring thoughtfully, “I was so sure once, about who I was, what I wanted.”

Katara looked down at her own hand, still clutching a bun, and looked at the ring she also had yet to take off. To be fair, she had been unconscious since they returned. Apparently, whoever dressed her had neglected to remove it as well. Her face heated at the sudden thought of who had likely been the one to dress her. She glanced back at Zuko.

“These last few years, I’ve been lost. I didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore… I stopped wanting things… stopped caring…”
He looked up at her then, and Katara stiffened. There was a heavy weariness in his face, like he had no strength left.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Zuko put the tea down on the table beside him. “You didn’t wake up for so long… It’s been almost twelve hours.”
Katara gaped at him. Twelve hours?
“Pakku said he had done everything he could to heal your injuries, but sensed that your chi, your energy, was troubled, and because of that your body was exhausted.” Zuko rubbed his eyes, sighing. “I was so worried, that I had been the cause of that trouble. I know now that the mission-”
“You weren’t.”
Zuko’s hand fell away. He stared at Katara, surprise on his face.
“You weren’t the cause.” Katara held his gaze, though her eyes burned.

Zuko blinked, a frown gathering his brows together. Katara slowly walked up to the table and put the two buns she was still holding down, her hunger suddenly forgotten.
“You’re not angry with me?” Zuko’s voice sounded thin.
Katara paused. “Angry with you?”
“I put you in danger based on a gamble. It was a stupid risk.”
“Like Aang said,” Katara said it simply, “it paid off. And you didn’t put me in danger, I knew the risk we were taking, we all did.”

Zuko shook his head. The guilt was eating at him, she could see that. She stepped closer, pulled by some strange force that urged her to make him see that he wasn’t alone. Katara touched his face gently, and it seemed so natural, like she had done this a million times. Zuko’s shoulders sunk, the breath rushing out of him in a sharp sigh. He leaned into her touch, the pain clear on his face. Katara ignored the little voice that begged her to turn and run until they were half a world apart once more.

“I’m ok,” she insisted, “we’re all ok.”
Zuko drew a shuddering breath and covered her hand. “But you almost weren’t.”
His voice broke and Katara felt her heart break a little in response. The ache in her chest became unbearable and she shook her head, fighting the tears. She pulled away.
Zuko’s eyes snapped open and his hand flew out, seizing her wrist. A lump formed in Katara’s throat, keeping her from objecting when he held her still. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Why…” his voice turned gravelly, “why do you keep pulling away?”

Katara squeezed her eyes shut, turning away from him. “Zuko… I can’t.”
“Why?” Zuko sounded desperate now. “You feel what I do, I know that.”
Katara shook her head, her hand curling into a fist. “I can’t think like that… Too much has happened. I’ve… caused too much pain.”
They both new what she was talking about. Azula.
Zuko sighed. “We both have. Every day, I wish we could change the choices I made.”
Katara looked up at him then. “It wasn’t meant to end like that.” The tears in her eyes couldn’t be held back any longer. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
“None of this was meant to happen.” Zuko frowned at her, his grip on her arm tightening. “We never should have met-” he shook his head, “not in the way we did. But it happened, and now we both have things that will stay with us forever.”

Katara fought the sob that tried to claw its way up her throat. She looked down, her heart stuttering. Zuko’s hand softened on her wrist, then she felt his other hand touch her face. She blinked up at him, startled, as he slowly tucked a hair behind her ear. The look on his face threatened to cleave her heart in two.
“But,” he swallowed, “what I feel right now for you…”

Panic jolted through Katara. She couldn’t take this anymore.
“Stop.” She whispered, a broken, anguished plea.
Zuko froze, and when Katara found the strength to look up at his eyes, there was unimaginable hurt there. It pained her more than his words had, and a tiny part of her began to regret what she was about to say.
“Please,” she shook her head, looking away, “don’t.”
“Tell me you don’t feel anything for me.” Zuko pulled her hand to his chest, holding it against his heart.
Katara gasped, it was beating even faster than her own. She couldn’t look at him, wouldn’t.
“Tell me that, and I’ll never bring it up again.” He was whispering now.
“I can’t.” She whispered, just as quietly.

Katara slipped her hand out of his grip and dashed out of the kitchen. For the second time now, she left him alone, and for the second time, Zuko didn’t stop her from leaving.

~

Chapter Text

Katara stumbled through the halls, her mind scattered. She couldn’t remember how to get back to her room. Was it this left or the next? She broke into a run, her injury in her leg a distant memory now. The walls blurred and her vision warped slightly. Only later did she realise it was because she was crying.

She didn’t stop running until she made it to entrance to the garden. Cold air brushed her face and something inside her settled. Still, she leaned heavily against the column on the corner of the veranda, sobbing.

There was a part of her that ached to turn back, but it was as if that small piece of her was trapped under the weight of the memory of what happened that night outside the palace. It wasn’t what she had done that haunted her day and night, indeed she knew that death was a natural part of the cycle, and she was no prey animal, she was a predator, a wolf.

It was who she did it to, who she hurt by killing Azula. Zuko may think he could forgive Katara, but she knew the pain of losing her family to the enemy. That hatred for the Fire Nation that boiled in her veins never dimmed, even now. The pain of what she had lost, her mother, her brother… the only thing that overpowered that grief was the guilt she felt that sometimes, she couldn’t even recall her mother’s face, or whether her brother was 17 or 18 when he died. The memory of her family, before her life had been upended by the cruelty of the Fire Nation, was like a faded painting.

But that rage. It was the most real thing in the world. A wildfire in her chest and a metallic taste in her mouth. It was all she had left of them, the only proof she managed to hold onto, save for the necklace she never took off. Katara touched it now, doing her best to center herself. Sometimes that fire threatened to overcome her, and when those moments came, she knew she could become blind to anything else. So she took a breath, and then another.

A breeze carrying that cold night air bit through her clothes and she shivered. Katara turned and pressed her back against the column. She wanted to go home. She missed the warmth of her hut, the smell of seal meat and fish roasting over fires. Even the stewed sea prunes her grandmother used to make. But those things had filled her life so much less these past few years. She had been alone for so long, and while she had grown cold and unfeeling, it was a guise. The pain was as fresh as the day she learned that the Fire Nation would never stop. Her hatred for it only grew with every loss she endured.

Zuko couldn’t love her, not when grief could weigh this heavily. Part of him hated her still, she was sure of it. Whatever this feeling was, that flicker of warmth she felt in her own chest whenever he was near, it was inconsequential, passing. There was no room in Katara’s heart for love for anyone anymore.

Though she held fast to that thought, a tear trickled down her cheek. Katara grit her teeth at the tightness that refused to leave her chest and pushed off the column, strutting out into the garden. It was a challenge not to trip in the low light but she made her way to the pond where Pakku had drilled her, his critical eye and sharp words hacking away at her pride but improving her technique. She stomped angrily to the edge of the water and assumed a low stance. Falling into the familiar movement, she practiced a basic form, feeling the pull of the water as she moved. Her legs were strong once more and allowed her to shift her stance gracefully, not a single twinge of protest.

The moon was high in the sky, its light shining down on the pond, a rippled, glowing reflection. Before long, Katara’s thighs and shoulders burned from the exercise and she finished the final form she had memorised, lowering the water she bended back into the pond without so much as a splash. There was something about bending in the moonlight that always make her feel more connected, more at peace. It didn’t help much now, however, that sharp, painful pressure in her chest refused to go away.

Katara growled, letting her frustration bubble to the surface. With a yell, she pushed, rather than pulled, the water. All of that anger, pain, confusion, she channeled into the push. The effort was enough to distract her, for a few seconds anyway.

The pond was reduced to half its volume. Katara stood, panting, as she stared at the flooded garden bed on the other side. The lawn was soaked, and there were a number of flowers and other plants that had been bent or uprooted. Regret pulsed through her, not just for the damage but because the relief was only momentary. Tears sprung to her eyes again, and this time she let the despair flood through her, too tired to fight it now.

Katara sunk to the ground, her knees hitting the dirt. She shook as she sobbed, the moon staring down unsympathetically. But the moon wasn’t her only audience tonight. The sound of someone’s throat clearing startled Katara and she whirled, peering at a dark figure.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Aang stepped closer, his features coming into focus, “I didn’t think anyone else would be up this early.”

Katara blinked at him, her thoughts scattered. “Early?”

Aang laughed softly. “It’s four in the morning. I usually meditate.”

Katara blushed, though Aang wouldn’t have been able to see it.

“Would you like to join me?” He asked, surprising her again.

“I-” Katara looked around, trying to gather her wits, “I’ve never…”

“I know,” he said, no hint of derision in his voice, “it brings me peace, sometimes… it helps center me. You seem like you could use some help… to center yourself.”

Katara swallowed. She touched her necklace again, feeling that tightness build in her chest. She found herself nodding and Aang moved to sit beside her. For a moment they just sat in silence, staring at the pond as the ripples stilled. It was a minute or so before he said anything.

“When Zuko freed me, back in the Fire Nation, all I knew was that I wanted to go home. I don’t know how long I flew, I think I was in the Avatar state for days…”

Katara glanced at Aang, feeling suddenly awkward about her own problems. They seemed minor in comparison to being imprisoned for four years.

“My home was gone,” he went on, “the buildings were still there but there was no one left. My friends, family… they were all gone. It was just me and Appa. He took me to the Western Air Temple, where I realised that there were no Air Nomads there either. I didn’t need to check the others to know that they would be empty too. Appa knew the way to the other temples. He had four years to look. If there were any more Air Nomads, Appa would have taken me to them. But I met a guru at the Western Air Temple. He taught me about the flow of energy in the body, and helped me learn to master the Avatar state.”

Katara listened, enraptured by Aang’s tale. Only the crickets, slowly resuming their songs after the sudden flood, filled the silence of the night.

“There are seven chakras, points in the body where chi is concentrated.”

Katara blinked at the word chi, and remembered what Zuko had said about her energy, that Pakku felt her chi was troubled.

“When these chakras are blocked, with emotional debris, the energy in our bodies can be blocked as well. I couldn’t access the Avatar state at will without first clearing each chakra in order. It meant confronting the source of my pain, regret and fear.”

Katara found herself wrapping her arms around herself. “And did it help? With the pain, I mean.”

Aang considered for a moment. “A little. I still have days when it’s harder, which is why I meditate. Sometimes I have nightmares, memories that I’m not sure belong to me… it can get overwhelming. Meditating brings me back to myself.”

Katara thought about this. She definitely wasn’t cut out to be a monk. Rising every day at four didn’t sound particularly appealing either. But what Aang said about chakras and energy made her pause. She looked at the pond, or what was left of it.

“Could you teach me?” She asked quietly. “To clear my chakras?”

“Yes.”

Katara glanced at Aang, who was watching the water as well.

“Did Pakku put you up to this?” She found herself suddenly asking.

The corner of Aang’s mouth tilted upwards. He glanced at her.

“Maybe.”

Katara scoffed but laughed, to her surprise. It was a pathetic, wet laugh and she sniffled. She followed Aang’s instruction to sit up straight, legs crossed. He took her through some quick breathing exercises and, when she was feeling a little more calm, he began.

The first chakra, the Earth chakra, dealt with survival, and was blocked by fear. Aang made Katara focus on what lingered in the shadows of her nightmares. She saw a face, amber eyes burning, and the cackling laugh that echoed in her dreams even now that its owner was dead and likely burned to ashes. Aang reminded her that the image that she conjured was only that, an image, and that all Katara had to do was let it pass over her. Azula’s visage disappeared and Katara felt a little lighter.

The second chakra, the water chakra, was blocked by guilt, and Katara admitted that she killed Azula in cold blood. Aang reminded her that Azula tried to kill her and Yue, there was nothing cold about it. Even Zuko had admitted that his sister had lost her way years ago, she could not have been reasoned with.

Katara shook her head. “I could have spared her.”

“Perhaps,” Aang said calmly, “I could have stayed with the Air Nomads a hundred years ago, and maybe we could have stopped the Fire Nation… but these things happened. All we can do now is prevent them from clouding our judgment. We can only move forward.”

Katara’s throat threatened to close up but she closed her eyes and tried to breathe normally.

“Accept that Azula’s death was at your hands, you need to forgive yourself if you are to put more good into the world. Accept that it happened, and leave the past where it belongs.”

Katara clenched her fists on her knees but did as he said. She imagined she was standing on the bank of that tiny river and walked away, leaving Azula where she lay. The image evaporated.

It was almost as if she heard the click, the tightness in her chest loosened significantly and Katara sucked in a shaky breath. She blinked and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Aang watched her but went on. The sun was slowly beginning to brighten the sky from beyond the horizon.

The third chakra, the Fire chakra, was blocked by shame.

“Shame?” She asked, frowning. “I’m not ashamed of anything.”

Aang watched her calmly. “Your third chakra is the one that is the most blocked.”

“How can you know that?” She asked, crossing her arms.

Aang raised an eyebrow. “Hi, I’m the Avatar, 116 year old all-powerful master of all elements.”

Katara scoffed.

“Look, I was sceptical about all this too.” He sat back a little, hands finding the grass behind him. “Guru Pathik had been studying for decades before I arrived. Meditating, training… He knew where my weaknesses were in my energy. He had a sense for it. I can sense it in you now, and I don’t need to be the Avatar to see that there’s something you try to keep locked away where no one else can ever see.”

Katara worked to clear all emotion from her face. She glanced at Aang slowly, trying not to show that her heart was starting to beat faster.

“If you don’t face the source of that shame, you won’t be able to move on. What is it that you can’t accept about yourself?”

Aang was staring at her now. Katara felt her shoulders stiffen. She knew he was right, and forced herself to relax. That pain in her chest was lessened, Aang’s story about chakras obviously held some truth. She considered the truth she kept hidden deep inside, the one she was barely aware of, denying its very existence.

“It’s Zuko,” she whispered, closing her eyes, “he has feelings for me, even though I killed his sister.”

She felt suddenly exhausted, like the admission weighed more than the words did as a secret.

“Does it make you feel ashamed because he feels that way for you, but you took someone he loved from him,” Aang asked, his voice soft, “or because you feel the same way about someone from the Fire Nation?”

Katara’s spine went rod-straight. She blinked at Aang.

“Wha-”

“Do you feel like you’re betraying your people, your family, by caring for him?” Aang interrupted her.

Katara felt her face warm. “I don’t-”

“Lying isn’t going to clear that chakra.” Aang frowned. “I’ve seen you both. You care for him. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yes there is.” Katara whispered after a moment of strained silence. “How can I feel anything for him? He’s not just from the Fire Nation, he’s the Firelord’s son!”

Katara’s voice was weak, her throat tightening again. She shook her head, covering her face with her hands.

“He’s a good man.” Aang said, like none of this surprised him. “He’s honourable, honest, and that’s not an easy thing to be, given his family. But he was not responsible for the pain you suffered. The family you lost was not his fault. Not everyone from the Fire Nation is a monster like the Firelord. And Zuko is the furthest from monstrous.”

Katara sniffled as she wiped away more tears. “How can you say that? He’s the one who trapped you for four years.”

Aang shook his head. “It wasn’t as simple as that. And that’s not for you or anyone else to forgive. Maybe it was Zuko’s desperation that led to my capture, but his choice led to my freedom. I’ve made my peace with what happened. I forgave him for his part in it, as I forgave myself for mine.”

Katara sighed, feeling raw and exposed. Was it shame that weighed down on her when she thought about Zuko? She considered the burning distain for the Fire Nation she had allowed to fill her before all this, how she had held onto that hatred as an anchor after she ran from the kitchen. There was something that felt so right when she was near Zuko, like they balanced each other, but also something that ate away inside her.

When Katara focused on the first memory she had of the Fire Nation, she saw the broad shoulders of the soldier that strode into her family’s hut during a raid. Her mother kneeled inside, the soldier stood between her and the entrance, where Katara stood.

Katara’s heart thudded in her ribcage as if she was there again, in that moment for the first time. She ran, her mother told her to find her father. But when they returned, it was far too late.

Those cold eyes, that smug voice, the memory of that firebender was the fuel that kept the rage inside her burning.

“A firebender killed my mother.” Katara found her voice with great effort.

“What happened to your mother was not Zuko’s fault. The man who took your mother away from you deserves every punishment, but this anger you keep carrying, the only person it hurts right now is you.”

Katara couldn’t meet Aang’s eyes. She felt his words wash over her and she closed her eyes again.

She let the image of the soldier fade, replaced by another pair of amber eyes, flecked with gold.

“Imagine the weight of that anger in your hand,” she heard Aang’s voice distantly, “hold it tightly, then let it go. Let it fall away.”

Katara did as he said, and let the gnawing feeling drop from her stomach. Without the heavy load of that hatred, Katara felt weightless, untethered. Panic gripped her for an instant before Aang’s voice was there again.

“The fourth chakra is the Air chakra,” he went on, as if Katara hadn’t just handed over the darkest piece of her soul, “it deals with love, and is blocked by grief.”

Mom.

For the first time, Katara saw her mother’s face as clearly as the day she lost her. Every other time she tried to conjure the memory, it was faded, blurred. But Kya smiled at her, reaching a loving hand to Katara’s face. Like a ghost, it passed right through her and Katara’s breath caught.

Then came Sokka’s face, coming into focus beside their mother’s, and their grandmother’s.

“Love never really dies, those people move on from this life, but are never really gone. That love is reborn in the form of new love. Let the pain of that loss flow away. Be at peace.”

Aang’s voice echoed in the nether that Katara shared in that moment with her family. She didn’t reach for them, knowing the vision would ripple and fade like the surface of a lake. Instead, she smiled back, willing them to know how much she loved them, and silently said goodbye.

The change was instant, Katara gasped as she opened her eyes and blinked at the colours that surrounded them. The sun had almost risen now, and the garden was bright with greens and blues and pinks… flowers and leaves and the approaching sunrise filled her senses.

Aang sat beside her still, watching Katara take it all in.

“There are three more chakras but…” he chuckled softly, “I think your energy is already flowing much better now. How do you feel?”

“I…” Katara glanced around.

Now that the darkness was gone, she realised how much it had weighed on her. She felt as though her eyes were open for the first time. Suddenly, there was room for more than just the war. There was space in her heart for more than hate and revenge and justice… and when she examined that beating liability in her chest she realised she knew something already resided there. Or someone.

“I have to find Zuko.”

Aang watched with a slightly amused expression as Katara surged to her feet.

“I-” she paused and looked down at him, “thank you, Aang.”

Aang smiled and nodded. Katara smiled at him before turning and hurrying back to the house.

Chapter Text

It was like a dam had broken within her. Unfamiliar emotions swarmed, all vying for attention, muddying the waters of her mind. At the centre of it all was Zuko. The relief Katara had felt when he kept her secret in the palace, the inexplicable sadness that came whenever she saw the pain in his eyes, the anger when she found him in that cage in Omashu…

For months now, she had held herself back from him with an iron grip, adamant that too much was at stake, any attachment she may have felt came second to the fate of her people, to the rest of the world. But as if the turbulent storm that seemed to rage ceaselessly inside her had swiftly died, it was suddenly obvious how every decision she had made since her capture had revolved around Zuko. Their lives had been bound together since the day their hands had been.

Fear squeezed Katar’s heart, suddenly she worried she had hurt him too much, that the damage was irreparable. He had offered her his own heart, but she had turned away from him too many times now. She deserved his hatred, but now she knew she longed for more. Now, she allowed hope to fill her, to entertain the possibility that he would accept what was left of her scarred and battered heart.

The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, Katara’s pulse thundered in her ears. She burst into the kitchen, frightening the two servants that had begun to prepare breakfast. Katara spared them only an apologetic glance before rushing back out. She hurried to his room, and when she stepped inside without even knocking, the memory of the first time she had stood there flooded her mind. Zuko’s defeated expression, his shock when she reached for his face… their kiss.

He wasn’t there. Katara turned away again before the memory overpowered her. Panic began to build beneath her skin, prickling like electricity, as she stepped out into the hallway again. It calmed almost instantly when she caught sight of a familiar figure down the hall. Zuko stared out of a window, unaware of Katara having just stepped out of his room. He stood, one hand on the sill, looking out into the street beyond, trees swaying silently on the other side of the glass.

Katara’s determination dried up at the sight of him. His shoulders caved forward, his eyes glancing up through lowered brows. Katara’s footsteps slowed the closer she drew, but he turned, hearing her behind him. Something changed in his face, Katara winced at the gloom that lifted almost completely at the sight of her, but that she caught nonetheless.

“Katara,” Zuko blinked, a question in his raised eyebrows.

She didn’t say anything, just finished crossing the remaining space between them. Katara’s eyes stayed locked on Zuko’s, searching for a hint of the same hope that was the only thing keeping her from crumpling to the floor. There was so much she wanted to say, to make him understand, but she didn’t have the words for what had just happened to her, for the profound change inside her.

She stopped at his side and Zuko turned to face her fully now. She saw the dark circles under his eyes, the tightness in his face. I couldn’t sleep… you didn’t wake up for so long. Katara’s throat threatened to close up. Her hand reached for him of its own accord, and she swallowed the hard lump in her throat when Zuko caught it in his. He held it gently, still waiting for her to say something. He wouldn’t push again, had no strength left to do so. It was her turn.

Katara glanced down at their hands, wondering why her heart was racing even faster than when she was running. Doubt began to surface once more, fear that it was too late, but she stifled it. She was a warrior, a wolf. She would not be afraid.

She lifted her eyes back to his. Zuko still gazed at her, a flicker of hope in his eyes now.
“You were right.” She said, her voice wavering.
Zuko’s brows furrowed, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. This time, Katara didn’t pull away.
“What I did to Azula, to you… I couldn’t face it… I wouldn’t. I was a coward.” She shook her head, looking down. “I never thought you could forgive me, even if you said the words yourself, I wouldn’t believe it. Because I couldn’t forgive the Fire Nation for taking my family from me.”

Zuko stiffened, and Katara blinked up at him when she felt his other hand reach for her. Zuko stepped closer, hand coming to rest on her arm. Katara searched his face, startled by the resolve she saw.

“I didn’t think I ever would,” he said, his expression softening slightly, “but I can’t ignore the fact that my sister was gone long before she set her sights on you. I lost her when I left her under the care of our father, there was no saving what she had become.”

“You didn’t leave her,” Katara found herself shaking her head vehemently, her hand rising to his face, “you were banished, you didn’t have a choice!”

Zuko closed his eyes and covered her hand. “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to convince myself of that,” he opened his eyes and the hand on her arm squeezed gently, “but I’ll try until I believe it. You need to convince yourself that there is nothing that will change what happened, and that I forgive you.”

Katara gasped, her throat constricting. She started to shake, her vision blurring with tears.
“I forgive you.” Zuko said it again, pulling her closer.

Katara couldn’t stop her face from crumpling at his gentle tone. His hand moved to cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. The first sob rattled out of her, she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. Her body decided for her. Zuko wrapped his arms around her as Katara hiccupped, clinging to him desperately.

“I forgive you.” He whispered as his settled his chin on top of her head. Katara forced air into her lungs, breathing in the scent of him, the rich spices, tea leaves and a smell that reminded her of the willow tree by the duck pond in the palace gardens.
“You asked me if I didn’t feel anything for you,” She sniffled, her cheek still resting on his chest, “if I didn’t feel what you do.”
She felt him stiffen, his hand pausing in its gentle, comforting strokes at her back.
“What do you feel for me?” She stayed still, not wanting to lose her nerve.
Zuko was quiet for a moment. Katara wondered if she had stepped too far, she straightened to look at his face. A flash of fear, quickly covered by that mask. The hope Katara felt suddenly faltered.

“I feel…” Zuko frowned, as if searching for the right words, “like the universe has changed in ways that don’t make sense. It threw us towards each other, two people from different worlds, who never would have met… And we had every reason to hate one another. But somehow, after everything I thought I knew disappearing, everything falling apart… the only thing that still makes sense is you.”
Katara stared at Zuko, her heart throbbing painfully in her chest at the agony on his face.
“When you’re in danger, I can’t breathe. When Mai threw those knives, I thought I would lose you, and when you didn’t wake up for hours… I felt like I was losing my mind.”

Zuko’s grip on her tightened and Katara touched his face again. He blinked down at her, focusing on her eyes. Her voice failed when she tried to speak at first, but she steeled herself and tried again.

“I love you.” She said, her voice tight with emotion. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you so badly-” her breath caught and she swallowed, “I wish things had happened differently, that we’d had time… but you were right, we can’t change the past. We’re here now, and I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone, but… I do.”

Zuko sucked in a shaky breath, and then it was Katara’s turn to wipe a tear from his cheek. He shuddered, fighting to regain control over himself. Katara reached for his face with both hands. Zuko blinked at her as she threaded her fingers through his hair and gently pulled him towards her.

The kiss was gentle, tentative. Not like the others they had shared, desperate, hungry. Neither one of them had wanted to acknowledge the heart of that attraction, the reason for need they both felt. But now, Katara felt as if both their souls had been laid bare. She hadn’t known her own heart for so many years, hidden it behind the armour of her rage, her hatred for anything Fire Nation. Now she knew his heart was as fragile as hers, hidden under fear and grief, but inside which bloomed a spark of hope. It was that same heart that chose to save her in the palace, that drove him to go on protecting her for the endless weeks she spent trapped there. Even then, even as the prince of the Fire Nation, Zuko’s heart was kind.

Katara pulled back, just far enough to look up at Zuko. He smiled down at her with a tenderness that made her heart skip a beat. She rested her hands on his chest, his arms wrapped around her now, and she closed her eyes as Zuko’s forehead came to rest against hers. They both breathed deeply, the world around them forgotten. There was no White Lotus, no Fire Nation, no war.

~

Zuko’s heart felt like it was about to burst. It felt like a part of it that he didn’t know was even missing had been returned to his chest. He didn’t care about the path that led them here, only that it had brought them together. She saw and knew every part of him, every weakness, and she loved him anyway.

Zuko sighed, savouring the warmth of their embrace. Suddenly, he felt Katara stiffen in his arms. He drew back, hands moving to her arms as he surveyed her. Her eyes were wide, unfocused, her face taut.

“Katara, what’s-”

The words died in his throat as her hand slipped from his chest and she swayed. Zuko caught her, one arm wrapped around her, the other touching her face. They sunk to the ground, Katara’s legs buckling. Her eyelids fluttered shut, a weak moan escaping her as her brows knitted together. Zuko searched her body for signs of injury and his attention caught on a small black dart protruding from her back.
Panic turned his blood to ice as he reached for the dart. He pulled it out but Katara didn’t even stir. When he looked down at her, she was unconscious. Zuko scanned the room, his grip on her tightening. The shadows stirred and Zuko straightened as much as he could with Katara against him, lifting a hand to the figure approaching. Just as the fire he summoned banished the remaining darkness in the hall, illuminating the man that stalked towards them, it was extinguished. A sharp pain distracted Zuko long enough to lose control of it, and he glanced down at an identical dart in his arm.

As soon as he noticed it, the drug flooded his system. His arm felt like lead and he dropped it. His head swam and with what little control he still had over his body, he curled protectively around Katara. Zuko’s head felt so heavy, he shook it in an attempt to clear the growing fog as it dragged him under. One of their assailants crouched down to smirk at him. The last thing he remembered was a set of amber eyes beneath a White Lotus hood.

~

Chapter Text

Zuko rolled his stiff shoulders, tilting his head to the side until his neck cracked, in an attempt to release some of the tension there. He didn’t take his eyes off the rusting bars of the cell he had occupied for the last eight days. The only reason he knew it had been that long was because he made a point of keeping time. He wouldn’t allow himself to lose focus, not when every second he wasted was risking Katara’s life. He hadn’t seen her since they had been taken from the Earth Kingdom, but he had paid close attention to the guards on the ship for the journey back to the Fire Nation, their conversations when they thought Zuko was sleeping, she was on the ship with him. That they had bothered to capture her at all was a relief, although it was soured by the knowledge that something worse was in store once they arrived in the capital. But she was alive.

He had been drugged once more, and while he had been expecting it, he still felt a jolt of panic when he woke in a dark, musty-smelling cell before he forced his breathing under control and silently took stock of his situation. Apart from the single guard that brought him a tray of cold rice and a pasty stew of some kind that Zuko tried not to let himself smell much as he ate, no one came to see him. He wasn’t hoping that his father would visit him in prison, in fact he dreaded it, but the absence implied another, more worrying possibility. The Firelord’s focus was directed elsewhere. Zuko was under no illusion that his father wanted anything from him, that he would appear, demanding an explanation for his son’s behaviour, his betrayal. No, his father was not one to dwell on the past, he was far too ambitious for that. Zuko’s punishment would come, that he was sure of, but he would not waste time waiting for that moment.

312BG, Avatar Kuruk’s death. The Fire Nation prospered for years under the rule of Firelord Chaeryu. He had two sons, Chaejin, the eldest, an illegitimate child, and Zoryu, his official heir.

Zuko rolled his shoulders again, straining to focus on the history he spent the days reciting. His body was not used to remaining still for such long periods of time, but he refused to let his jailers see him pace or fidget. He sat, reclined, his head leaning back against the wall, the very picture of boredom and regal self-assuredness.

The door opened and light spilled into the sparse room. A guard stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She strode towards Zuko’s cell, holding Zuko’s emotionless gaze unflinchingly, and dropped the tray she was holding unceremoniously just before the bars. The soggy rice sloshed out of the bowl which, miraculously, did not topple and a bar of some kind bounced beside it but remained on the tray. Zuko broke eye contact only to glance down at the tray impassively before snapping his gaze back to the guard’s glare. She sneered at him before turning on her heel and striding back out, slamming the door behind her and leaving Zuko once again in the darkness.

Zuko watched the guard leave impassively. He sat, leaning against the wall in the corner, one arm propped casually on a bent knee. His hair was loose, swept to one side like a partial curtain, as if he could block out the sight of his current predicament. Zuko had effectively ignored his jailers this way since he woke, again, in a cell. He had perfected a disinterested, relaxed pose, communicating an unworried, practically bored demeanour. He didn’t refuse food, not even willing to let the guards that brought it to him to think him stubborn or petulant. He would simply be unaffected, immune to the psychological effects of imprisonment.

Sighing, Zuko sat forward, calmly getting to his feet and making his way over to the only meal he would receive today. It made it easy to count the days, he supposed, with each unappetising plate of gruel he forced down his throat making him shudder with disgust. A distant part of him marvelled at his privileged palate, how he had lasted this long, even through banishment, never going without the service of a decent cook, he didn’t know. It was a startling realisation, that food could be used as a weapon, and so Zuko did not say a word when the guard had tossed his meagre lunch to the floor on his first day. Zuko knew that he needed to keep his strength, and so determination was the only thing that allowed him to stomach the cold slop.

Zuko waited several minutes to be sure he wasn’t being watched, then he drew his hair up into a quick bun and pulled his robed off, leaving him dressed only in pants, his shoes tossed aside days ago. Zuko began with push-ups, doing as many as he could, as quickly as he could, before the burn in his arms became intolerable. He surged to his feet, sprinting on the spot for thirty seconds, ignoring the stitch forming in his side. Jumping up, he grabbed hold of the bars above him and hooked his legs over the horizontal bar of the walls to his cell. Using it as a base, he started doing crunches. Next squats, and then he practiced his forms as best as he could in the small box. Zuko had no plans to die in a dungeon.

~

Katara wiped the sweat from her forehead for the hundredth time. The cage she was in reminded her of the one they had seen in Omashu, which held its king. That one had dangled over a bottomless chasm, whereas this one sported a view of a lovely pool of lava below. It was ingenious, she supposed, as a prison for a water bender. The very air was too hot to hold any moisture. Once a day, guards opened the door to her cell to restrain her, arms raised above her head to prevent any bending, before a long stick with a cup of water was held up to her lips. It was the only water she would see each day.

Katara licked her cracked lips, her head throbbing from dehydration. It was almost time, the guards would be coming soon. It was more a hopeful guess than a certainty, trapped underground for the last week or so, Katara had no way of knowing what day it was, and so counted the days with each drink and stale roll of bread tossed up to her. Her muscles ached. Though she tried to practice her forms, the cell was tiny, barely high enough for her to stand straight, and with every movement she made it rocked, making her stomach drop each time. Most days, she had to satisfy herself with simply stretching her legs, especially by now, the headaches had grown so bad, she sometimes needed to lie on her back with her eyes closed for a few hours at a time.

A door some distance away opened, its creaking echoing through the cavern. Katara could practically smell the water. She sat up, peering over the edge of the cage’s base through the bars. The guards always came in pairs and rotated shifts. The two on duty today were Katara’s least favourite, especially together. The larger man had a whispy moustache and his breath smelled like fish. She was particularly aware of it when he insisted on being the one to restrain her, not hesitating to brush his hands over her body when he did. His greasy partner simply eyed her, with a sneer she could see as clear as day, even from the low platform where he held the stick for water. There was a glint in his eyes today that made Katara scowl. Fish Breath started making his way up the steps to the platform that led out to the cage, but Katara kept her eyes on the other guard.

Sneery grinned at Katara, freeing a waterskin from his belt. He was supposed to empty it into the cup attached to the stick he held, but he shook it once, as if to show her, before uncorking it and lifting it to his own lips. Anger burned, forming a knot in Katara’s parched throat. The waterskin was small, just enough in a full bag to fill the cup she drank from once a day, and the guard had just gulped down half of it. He happily dumped the remainder of its contents into the metal cup. Katara’s eyes narrowed on his crooked grin, even as Fish Breath opened the door to her cell and grabbed her wrists to bind them.

The guards laughter still grated on her nerves, worsening her headache long after they left her alone. It had been humiliating the first time they had strung her up, the guards taking pleasure in her pointless struggles. Now, she conserved her energy. If she was going to escape, she couldn’t exhaust herself before then. Katara lay back down and closed her eyes, trying to let the heat wash over her. She must have dozed off because she started awake to a loud clang. She sat up too quickly and her headache flared. Groaning, Katara glared at the guard standing at her door. He waved the sheathed sword that he had banged against the bars to wake her. He grinned, his eyes hidden beneath the shadows of his helmet.

“Wakey, wakey,” he sang, “someone wants to see you.”

~

Zuko opened one eye at the loud banging at his door. Two guards stood inside the room, one holding his empty tray against the bars, the other leaning against the door frame, crossing his arms and smirking. The closer one adjusted his belt, and the one at the door tilted his head, drawing Zuko’s attention. It was a mistake.

Before he could ask what they wanted the closer guard pulled something like a pipe from his pocket and Zuko jerked back. Not fast enough. A dart appeared on his leg, the sharp pain making him wince, but he only growled in frustration. Damn patience and impassivity, Zuko leapt to his feet and rushed to the bars. The guard jumped back as Zuko’s hand jutted through the bars, grabbing air. There was a gleeful smile on the guard’s face and he laughed as Zuko stumbled, the drug pumping through his system faster from the movement. Zuko managed a last, withering glare before his head started to spin and the world faded to blackness.

Light stabbed Zuko’s eyes as he slowly came to, drowsiness keeping him from opening his eyes fully. Anger toward the guard that had drugged him still simmered beneath the surface but he forced himself to take in the situation. He struggled to his hands and knees, his body still unusually heavy, his limbs refusing to cooperate. Something scraped on the floor as he moved but his vision swam, head still spinning. He breathed slowly.

It was dark around him, but not as dark as the cell he had been in earlier. It only took a moment for his eyes to focus. The cell was larger as well, and beyond the bounds of its bars, fire lined the walls. He knew these walls. He was inside the palace. Zuko groaned as he got to his feet but stumbled instantly, his hands held immobile by heavy iron bands.

Zuko stared at the chains that ran to the edge of the cage, hammered into the floor. There was just enough give for him to raise his arms a little if he crawled to the bars, but not enough to stand without hunching. He managed to get to his hands and knees, pulling himself closer to the bars. When he straightened, his head spun once more. He reached for the bars, wrapping a hand around one to steady himself. The chains clattered loudly, echoing through the room.

As his heart stammered in his chest, his vision began to clear and Zuko made out another cell a few paces away. It took a moment longer for him to make out its inhabitant in the dim light but when he did, his heart stopped.

Zuko gripped the bars of his cell and bit down on the scream that was building in his throat. He forced it back down, forced his mind to work, to think. How he had found himself in this situation again, waking in a cage, he didn’t know, but the rage that boiled inside him at the sight of Katara on the floor of the cage beside him cleared away what remained of the fog in his mind.

She was still unconscious and lay on her side, her wrists trapped like his by chains fixed to the base of the cage. Whatever they had drugged them with clearly affected her more strongly than him. A thought occurred to him then, and anxiety cut through the fury momentarily. How long had they been unconscious? Why were they both brought here? They had been in the Fire Nation for over a week. Another, more disturbing realisation struck him then, that the Fire Nation knew where the White Lotus was. The spies would have seen to that. Whatever reason both he and Katara had been taken from their cells, this wasn’t about gaining information.

Zuko had glanced down at the bars as his mind worked, but he looked over at Katara once more, feeling fear settle in his stomach like a stone. Even in the dim light, Zuko could see that Katara’s hair was matted with sweat, her face pale and eyes ringed with dark shadows. He swallowed and tried to steady his breathing.

A creak sounded nearby and Zuko’s attention snapped to the light pouring in from the door across the room. His father stepped into the room and Zuko’s blood went cold. His face was blank, but there was a cruel hint of a smile in the Firelord’s eyes. Two guards followed him into the room, silently taking up places on either side of the door. Zuko felt like a mouse caught in a trap, watching a cat prowling closer slowly. Out of instinct, Zuko felt his shoulders cave a little, the urge to lower his head was almost overwhelming but he kept his eyes on his father. Ozai shook his head at Zuko, donning a look of disappointment that didn’t quite hide the glee in his voice.

“My treacherous son,” Ozai sighed, “was banishment not enough to teach you? I should have known your loyalty would be too easily swayed.”

Ozai circled around Katara’s cage, coming to stand in front of Zuko, who stared up at him with as much disgust as he could muster. Ozai only scoffed.

“Perhaps I arranged your marriage too early, you are still young.” Ozai glanced back at Katara’s still sleeping form. “Clearly it was too much responsibility to handle one troublesome girl.”

Zuko stiffened, every heartbeat that passed with his father looking at Katara caused his chest to tighten further.

“Let her go.”

Ozai glanced back at Zuko, one eyebrow raised. There was an amused look on his face.

“No.”

Zuko took a shuddering breath. “Please. You won’t gain anything from hurting her. I’ll tell you anything you want.”

Even as he said it, he knew it would make no difference, Zuko knew nothing that the Firelord did not already gleam from his spies, the spies that captured them straight out of the safety of the White Lotus. Ozai looked at his son, something like disgust curling his lip now.

“I tried to teach you respect, and I had hoped that your years in banishment would be an opportunity for you to regain some semblance of honour. But I see now that it was a futile endeavour, for here you are now, shamelessly begging for a criminal’s life.”

“Please,” Zuko repeated, letting his head hang now.

He didn’t care if his father thought he was worthless, though his words stung. Zuko had spent so much of his life trying to gain his father’s approval, his love. For the two years he had searched for the Avatar, forbidden to come home until he succeeded, that hope had been the only thing that drove him some days. It had been futile, but only because Zuko now knew he would never have his father’s love. Not because he didn’t deserve it, however. To love, you had to have a heart.

Ozai turned away from him then and Zuko felt a little piece of him die with that final, crushing realisation. Fear returned to his body when Ozai stepped around to the back of Katara’s cage, to the door. Zuko jerked, attempting to climb to his feet, forgetting the chains. He stumbled and grabbed the bars again. Zuko’s eyes darted from Ozai to Katara, who was beginning to stir.

“No, don’t-” Zuko tried again to stand, pulling himself up against the bars, his still-shaky legs struggling against the weight of the chains.

Ozai ignored him, stepping into Katara’s cell. Katara groaned and turned her head. Zuko could only stare helplessly as Katara blinked up at him in confusion before her eyes went wide at his expression. She didn’t have time to speak before Ozai yanked her up by her hair. Zuko strained against the chains when she screamed, he may have said something, may have pleaded with his father again, but it was no use. Katara glanced at Zuko through teary eyes, her arms pulled down like his, unable to even reach back as Ozai used one hand to hold her still by her hair, the other pulled her robe down on one side. Ozai looked up at Zuko again, almost expectantly. Zuko could barely hear him over the sound of his pulse thudding in his ears.

“I gave you the chance to punish your wife yourself, but you proved to be too weak to do so. Now, your sister is dead. Consider this a lesson, Zuko.”

Zuko shook his head, feeling tears build in his own eyes. He had to do something, stop him somehow. But there was nothing he could do as Ozai summoned a small flame, pulling it tight until it glowed white at the centre of his palm. Panic stabbed into him, making every hair stand on end. Fear for Katara mixed with his own terror as he remembered his father’s hand extended towards him in the same way, the image dredged up once more from where he tried to keep it buried.

Zuko knew it was hopeless, but he held a hand over the lowest link in the chains that bound his wrists, heating it as fast as he could. The metal grew red-hot but did not yield. He ignored the heat that travelled up the rest of the chain that had started to burn his arms and yanked at the chain, logic abandoning him as his fear closed around his throat like a noose. The metal did not even warp. Zuko cast about, looking for a weak point in the chain, the cage, the room… his chest grew tight, his head beginning to spin. Wide blue eyes caught his attention, making him pause long enough to remember where he was, when he was.

Katara stared at him, Ozai stood behind her, watching him, unmoving. His father waited, his face seemingly calm with patience. He wanted Zuko present, aware, and so he waited as Zuko forced his breathing back to normal, or as normal as he could manage. Zuko’s stomach twisted, threatening to bring up… he hadn’t eaten in hours, nothing but bile would greet him if he let the nausea overcome him. He swallowed, willing his body to still despite his mind screaming at him to escape. There was no escape from this.

“There. You see,” Ozai tilted his head slightly, “you do know how to behave.”

Ozai glanced back down at Katara, who was still staring at Zuko. Something went through her mind in that moment, perhaps it was realisation, recognition of something in his reaction, but Zuko couldn’t reassure her, couldn’t console her. He could only watch as Ozai turned his hand towards Katara’s skin and her face went white with shock and contorted with pain.

Zuko clutched the bars and clenched his teeth so hard he felt his jaw crack. Katara screamed and thrashed, but Ozai held her tight as he burned her. It was steady, deliberate, and Zuko’s body shuddered like he could feel the same pain now. Zuko shouted at his father to stop. He yelled until his throat was raw. Anything to stop her from screaming. It felt like hours that he held her there, the smell of charred flesh and burnt hair filling the room. It was over in seconds.

Ozai released her hair and Katara dropped to the floor, falling to her elbows. She sobbed, her shoulder was a mess. The burn extended from her back up her neck, and though she now pressed her head to the floor, Zuko had seen the flame flicker over her jaw, leaving an angry mark on her cheek. She was branded by the Fire Nation, like him. The very fate he had dreaded for her, he couldn’t keep her from it.

Zuko couldn’t take his eyes off the blackened skin, cracked and bleeding. His breathing was ragged, he felt sick. Katara shuddered and his eyes dropped to her hands. They shook as she cried. Her forehead rested on the cold ground, ask if that was some comfort against the pain.

“Katara…” Zuko’s voice was hoarse.

“You always were a bleeding heart, Zuko.” Ozai’s voice dripped with ridicule.

The Firelord slammed Katara’s door shut, locking it once more. He strode across the room to the door of Zuko’s cell.

“Just like your mother.”

Zuko didn’t even look up, tears spilling down his face as he reached through the bars to Katara. She was too far away, and the chains weighed down Zuko’s arms. Ozai scoffed and opened Zuko’s door with a creak. The guards moved, responding to a wordless command from the Firelord, approaching Zuko’s cage as well. Zuko paid them no attention, not caring enough to look away from Katara as Ozai came to stand behind him.

~

Katara’s world was agony, even though Ozai had released her, her shoulder still felt like it was on fire. Every breath she took brought a new wave of pain from the smouldering mess of her back and neck. Zuko said her name, but her head felt so heavy. She felt weak, dizzy. Was she hungry? Nauseous? Both, she decided, but above all, thirsty.

There would be no water, she knew that. Katara doubted the Firelord had any intention of keeping her alive for long, just long enough to punish Zuko. From the panic on his face before Ozai grabbed her, Katara realised, finally, how he had gained his scar.

“Pathetic.”

Katara stiffened, forcing her head to turn, focusing on Zuko in the other cage with some difficulty. He looked at her, face streaked with tears, so much regret in his eyes. His arms stretched out weakly through the bars, reaching for her. Ozai stood behind him. Katara sucked in a fearful breath, trying her best to ignore the pain in her shoulder as she pushed herself to her hands and knees. Her arms shook with the effort, she couldn’t help the tears that welled as her ruined skin screamed at the movement. They dripped onto the stone floor between her hands.

Wait. Katara stared at the tiny drops near her fingers. Her body felt weak, tired, and she wasn’t sure she could raise her head, let alone a hand to bend. Chains scraped on the stone floor, making her look up, Zuko gripped one of the bars and turned back to look at Ozai. There was so much anger in his eyes, though the Firelord didn’t seem concerned. In fact, he eyed Zuko’s face like his fury amused him. Katara gasped as Zuko threw his hand back as far as he could and shot a small ball of fire at his father. She hadn’t even seen him create it before it was flying towards the Firelord’s face. Ozai easily extinguished it and Katara’s heart fell. Before Zuko could react, his father stepped into the cage and struck him across the face. Zuko’s head snapped to the side and knocked against the bars. The skin on the right of his forehead split and Katara found herself stumbling forward despite the pain that flared. Ozai grabbed his son by the collar, Zuko’s struggling weakly, still dazed.

Katara grit her teeth. No. It was more instinct than a conscious decision. Her hand rose, her body shuddering with the sudden movement, and the tiny drops of water before her flew through the air, becoming ice in an instant. The tiny shards lodged themselves in the wall behind Ozai, but they did not go unnoticed.

Everyone in the room froze, even the Firelord, who stared at Katara in surprise. Zuko panted, still held in Ozai’s unfailing grip, as Katara’s arm dropped and she barely managed to keep herself from collapsing once more. A single drop of blood welled at the narrow cut on Ozai’s cheek, just below his eye. It rolled, almost like a tear, to his jaw and dripped to the floor. The sound echoed in Katara’s ears, identical to her tears hitting the ground a moment earlier. The sight jarred her, capturing her whole attention. Something shifted inside her as she stared at the splattered drop beside the Firelord’s feet.

“Impressive,” Ozai murmured, a touch of humour in his voice, “but that will be the last water you see for some time.”

Katara raised her eyes only to level a cold glare at the man before her. Zuko gripped his father’s arm, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on his throat from where Ozai held his robe, twisting it at his neck. He twisted enough to catch Katara’s eye, and she felt a whimper build in her throat at the sight of his desperation.

“Take my son back to his cell. He needs more time to reflect on the error of his ways.”

The guards on the other side of the room stepped forward, their presence practically forgotten until now. Katara glanced at them, then snapped her gaze back to Ozai, forcing as much defiance into her face as possible. He only chuckled.

“Then take this one back to her cage, no more water. Not until she learns some respect.”

“No!” Zuko resumed his struggling, kicking violently and fighting against the guards as they removed his chains and bound his hands behind his back.

It was hopeless though, whatever they had been dosed with was still affecting both of them, and he still seemed a little unsteady from when he hit his head on the bars. The guards dragged him away without too much difficulty, despite the fire he spewed straight from his mouth in an attempt to break free. Katara felt her chest constrict, her mind fighting with her dehydrated and drug-addled body to break free. But all she could do was watch as he was taken away. A moment later she was alone, the Firelord following the others as Zuko’s desperate voice, calling her name, faded, along with everything else, into silence.

~

Chapter Text

Katara shuddered, the waves of pain bringing nausea with each breath. She lay as still as possible on the floor of her cell, eyes closed. Sneery’s raspy chuckle echoed down the narrow passageway that led out of her oven-like prison. She ignored him though. The guards hadn’t been gentle with her, despite her injury, which she was sure looked as agonising as it felt. Her arms had still been wrenched upwards and wrists slapped into shackles. She was almost grateful, however, when the water was held up to her lips. Her throat had grown so dry in the last day that she knew she couldn’t speak even if she tried.

The burning sensation at her shoulder and neck had dulled to a miserable throbbing, made worse with every tiny movement. After a few minutes, the nausea passed, and Katara opened her eyes. Alone, high above a smoking, molten pool, the pain had become a constant, angry companion. And yet, inside, she felt numb.

When the guard had yanked her arms backward, drawing an automatic scream from her shredded throat, the burnt skin had torn like parchment. Blood had dribbled down her back and dampened her robe, sticky and warm. With a gasp, Katara managed to lift her good arm to touch the mess now. She bit back the tears at the movement and brought her hand to her face. Lying on her good side, Katara examined the thick substance, rubbing it between her fingers. She pictured the drop of blood that she had seen trickle down the Firelord’s face. Just like a tear.

~

Zuko ignored the food. He didn’t eat for two days, partly out of spite, but also because he couldn’t imagine stomaching a thing. Even the guards, who had previously considered him with disgust, lingered when they came to bring him his meals. Zuko ignored their brief looks of concern and curiosity. It must have reached the Firelord’s ears, however. Ozai stepped through the door later on the second day. Zuko didn’t know what time it was, nor did he care. He said nothing to the man, even as he strode to the bars and stood, watching him.

Ozai stood there for a full minute, waiting, contemplating. Zuko made it clear he would not pay his father any attention, staring at the floor as Ozai began to pace slowly. The Firelord walked along the perimeter of the bars, eyeing Zuko the whole time.

“This kind of petulance is beneath you.” He finally sighs.

Zuko silently released a breath. He closed his eyes, working up the energy to block out whatever profound criticism would dribble from the Firelord’s lips.

“Do you have any idea the damage you have caused? That she has caused? The trust the people of the Fire Nation has with it’s Fire Lord, and with the royal family, has been irrevocably wounded. The treaty with the Water Tribe gave us security…”

Treaty?

Zuko held back a manic laugh at the word. The last thing he would call the arrangement with Yue and Katara was a treaty. It was a threat. Nothing less.

“…and now the world sees us as weak.”

Zuko tried to steady his breathing. Something cold and foreign was slowly turning his veins to ice. He wouldn’t open his eyes, wouldn’t look at his father. Before, he would have carefully kept his emotions in check and might have implored him to exercise mercy. The Firelord had no mercy for anyone, not even his own children.

“Luckily for you, there is an opportunity to recover from this. The Fire Nation needs to see that the Crowned Prince’s values are aligned with that of the people. You will regain your place by my side, my sole heir to the throne. We will present a united front. And for that to happen, I need to know that you will do what is necessary to prove your loyalty.”

Zuko already knew where this was going. He had expected it, the dark and twisted part of him that he thanked his father for fostering had coldly examined the paths before him. He knew how the Firelord thought, knew what he would demand of him, now that Azula was gone.

“No.” Zuko breathed, the word was so quiet, Ozai went on, having missed it.

“Everything will be as it was, your transgressions will be forgiven. One day this will all be nothing but a memory of a lesson learned.”

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut, that sickening feeling spreading through his body, making him shiver. There was no rage for his father, nothing so heated, only a cold, heavy certainty that settled over him. He tried to breathe through it, though his hands had begun to shake. A ringing started to sound in his ears, but not loud enough to block out his father’s words.

“You favoured the life of some Water Tribe peasant over the good of the Fire Nation. You’re so short-sighted, Zuko, she doesn’t matter, none of them matter. And when you’ve put an end to her-”

Zuko didn’t hear the end of that sentence, because Ozai didn’t get to finish it. The ringing in his ears had grown to near deafening, and the shudders that wracked his body turned from freezing to burning in an instant. Faster than the blink of an eye, the room was filled with light, the shock on Ozai’s face flashing white. It was a split second later that the crack of thunder shook the walls. In the tiny room, it was enough to rattle Zuko’s teeth, despite him being deafened by the blood rushing in his ears.

Lightning burst from his fingertips, the force of it throwing his arm back, his body falling to the ground. The explosion that instantly followed threw so much dust up between them, Zuko had to close his eyes and hold his breath. Ozai had managed to deflect the strike at the last moment, but it was still enough to knock him backwards. Zuko wasted no time trying to squint through the dust cloud, and scrambled to his feet.

Every day since he woke up in that cell, Zuko had slowly melted the bars at key points on the door with a controlled flame, weakening the structure slightly. The blast was enough to break the weakened bars. The door had flown clean off its hinges and now lay on the ground.

Zuko ran. He didn’t stop, even when his lungs burned and his legs shook from exhaustion. It was dark, but the sun was beginning its slow climb to the edge of the horizon, painting the sky a faint purple. Zuko headed straight for the temple, not bothering to find a mount this time. Ignoring the slight dizziness that swayed his vision momentarily, Zuko pushed onwards.

Despite his panic at seeing Katara in such a state, her appearance had confirmed his suspicions. The only place he could imagine they would imprison a waterbender in the Fire Nation would be deep in the underground of the temple, where they had kept Aang for four years. Most knew the mountain on the Capital island to be dormant volcano, but those highest up in the government knew the truth. Deep in the bowls of the old volcano, there were pockets of lava, small, not of significant danger to the people of the Fire Nation. Not yet, that is.

That was where they would keep her. Zuko had heard the stories of how they had imprisoned waterbenders, denying them water. Katara had looked like a husk, starved and exhausted. And to drug them both? They would have been moving her from somewhere that he wasn’t. She wasn’t in the palace, that much he was certain of. The only place he could think she would be was beneath the temple.

By the time Zuko arrived at the temple, it was silent, empty. He quickly made his way down the hidden stairs to the catacombs only to find more silence, and eventually blood. Too much blood.

Some of the bodies were contorted horribly, necks snapped, limbs twisted. Zuko steeled himself and followed the trail of death to the deepest part of the catacombs, near where the Avatar had been kept. The path led to a tunnel, which burrowed down into the mountain, and finally, narrowing until it spilled out into a cavern. Heat began to draw sweat from his pores the further he went, and a familiar smell of fumes reached his nose. The bottom of the cavern held a pool of lava, lazily bubbling. The fumes alone were enough to make Zuko sway for a moment, he had to steady himself against the rock wall beside him.

Above the pool hung a cage, the open door swinging on its hinges. Even from where he stood, looking up at the cell, Zuko could see blood on the bars. Deaf once more from the rushing pulse in his ears, Zuko raced up the cracked steps to the entrance of the cage. By the time he was high up enough to see into the cell, his panic receded, but only a little.

It wasn’t Katara’s body lying in the middle of the cell, blood surrounding it, but an unfamiliar Fire Nation guard. Zuko swallowed against the nausea that twisted his stomach, seeing the terror still stretched across the man’s pale face. Like the others, his body was bent, his neck obviously broken and his hands and feet facing the wrong way. He did not die quickly. Despite the blood on the floor and smeared across the bars, the guard had no open wounds. Zuko tried to ignore the sick feeling the sight of the body left him with, tried to stay rational. He needed to focus on finding Katara. A tiny voice in the back of his mind questioned who the blood belonged to if it wasn’t the guard, sparking fury along with a fear that she was more injured than he had suspected. The suspicion that the blood may belong to Katara grew stronger when he saw the small, crimson footprints leaving the cell. Her pace was steady, unhurried. A rock seemed to settle in Zuko’s stomach. He needed to find her, now.

Fear coursed through Zuko, from the amount of blood in the cell, and how she looked when Ozai burned her, Katara had to be badly hurt. But the pattern of the blood was strange, Katara didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause or quicken. Even as Zuko followed her footsteps back out of the tunnel and past the bodies once more, there was no sign she so much as slowed when they had approached. And now, they all lay dead, bodies folded like parchment. Some had wounds, and despite the gruesome nature of them, it settled something in Zuko to know not all the blood belonged to Katara.

Where is she? Zuko stopped, his breathing growing harder as fear began to tighten his throat. If Katara escaped, she could be looking for him. The realisation had him quickly leaving the catacombs and heading for the surface.

~

Katara walked slowly, her body weak and tired. She felt numb, a distant part of her grimaced at the sticky feeling of blood between her fingers, but she wasn’t afraid or even worried about anyone seeing her or trying to stop her. She would cut through them like she had with all the others. They weren’t people, not even enemies, only obstacles.

She would find Zuko. Back in the palace, she’d start at the room where they had been brought, with the two cages in it. He wouldn’t be there, but she’d head through the door he was dragged through the last time she saw him. Katara wasn’t sure how long she had walked through the halls of the palace, surprisingly not coming into contact with any other guards, beyond the one at the door she first entered through, he barely managed to slow her down.

The room was exactly as it had been that day. Down to the comfortable heat of the little fires lining the walls. Katara stared at the two cells, the doors hanging open, chains still on the floor. Her eyes passed over them, registering a faint pulse of emotion at the sight of them, but not feeling much beyond contempt. She looked higher, seeing the holes in the wall where she hurled her own frozen tears at the Firelord, and the drop of blood on the floor in Zuko’s cage, Ozai’s blood, untouched. Something primal and cold fell over her then, making her hyperfocus on Ozai’s blood, as if she could trace it to the source.

Her body reacted before she was even conscious of the noise she heard. Katara spun, hands splayed, ready. Her thighs burned but she held her stance despite her starved and exhausted muscles. Her gaze settled on the figure before her, even though her vision blurred momentarily. The person who had just stepped into the room didn’t move while she stared at him. Katara waited for them to rush forward or dodge to the side, but they simply looked at her. Then, she noticed their hands were raised as well, not defensively, but almost reassuringly.

“Katara.”

She blinked at hearing her name, not just because it was her name, but because the voice was familiar. Katara squinted at the figure and realised she recognised him. She didn’t lower her hands, however.

“It’s me.” Aang dropped his hands a little and took a step closer.

Katara tensed but did not retreat a single step. Aang paused, eyes darting from Katara’s face to her shoulder, then her torn clothes. Finally, his gaze stopped at her hands, lingering. Whatever he was thinking, Katara couldn’t decipher his expression. She found herself looking down and saw what it was that captured his attention. Her hands were not just sticky with blood but coated in it. It painted her skin up to her elbows, like gloves.

Aang took a step closer, hands still raised a little. Katara’s eyes snapped to him, but she didn’t move away. A flicker of something urged her to be on her guard, but this was Aang, he was a friend. Still, she watched him, wary. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, soft, like he was talking to a cornered animal. In truth, he was, Katara practically bared her teeth at him as he stopped a few steps away.

“The White Lotus is here,” he murmured, eyes not leaving hers, “they’re already inside the city. I went ahead, to find you and Zuko.”

Katara considered Aang for a moment, doubt creeping in. They thought they were safe with the White Lotus before, and the Fire Nation still found them, and still captured them without the White Lotus knowing. Could she really trust them now? All the while, Aang watched her, his eyes searching hers, waiting for a sign or tell of what she was thinking.

Finally, Katara straightened, lowering her hands and looking away from Aang. She glanced at the cell Zuko had been kneeling in when she woke up on the floor, right before the worst pain she had ever experienced bloomed from her shoulder. She grimaced at the still-searing pain that she was becoming more and more aware of by the second.

“They took him away.” She said, her voice hollow.

Aang shifted but said nothing, and when Katara looked back at him, he flinched at the severity of her expression. He smoothed his features quickly, summoning a reassuring smile.

“We’ll find him together.”

~

Chapter Text

Iroh nodded towards the hooded White Lotus member holding a lit torch, who nodded back and lowered it to the boulder beside him. The rock was doused in pitch. In the next moment, the catapult was released, and the flaming boulder sored over the houses of the outer capital and collided, exactly as they had planned, to the right of the main gate of the inner palace wall. The rest of the White Lotus cheered, and Iroh caught Master Jeong Jeong’s eye, who nodded once and turned to head with his division to their assigned sector for the attack. Another catapult hurled a flaming boulder towards the palace, this one hit to the left of the main gate, almost symmetrical to the first. More boulders flew towards the palace wall, one even broke through and tumbled inside.

Someone came to stand beside Iroh as he watched the destruction with a heavy heart. Even with all the sins of the Fire Nation and its Firelord, this was still his home, his people. He did not acknowledge the person next to him, simply gazed out at the smoke billowing from the stone wall.

“The White Lotus knows to keep casualties to a minimum.”

Toph’s voice almost surprised Iroh. Almost.

“The risks of this invasion are necessary.”

“Are you reassuring me, or yourself?”

Sometimes Iroh forgot that there was no fooling Toph. The young woman was a prodigy when it came to her skills as an earthbender. Bumi had discussed her abilities at length with him after he had met her, Iroh would have found the king’s interest in a fellow earthbender amusing, but inconsequential, if it weren’t for the detail that Toph could sense when someone was lying. Her perceptiveness of the world around her was unparalleled, and extended to a sense of all things, living or inanimate, that came into contact with the earth she stood on.

“This is your nation, too.” Toph said quietly.

“Yes.” Iroh admitted with a sigh. “But sometimes we must clear the rot away before a thing can begin to heal again.”

He glanced Toph’s way, the girl’s eyes were a sightless white, but Iroh knew she could sense his resolve, along with his sadness. She didn’t need to see the fake smile he offered her out of habit. He turned back to the palace, hands folded and resting over his middle. Once the soldiers gathered along the inner wall to wait out the siege, leaving the palace’s defences weakened on the inside, it would make it easy for Aang to find the Firelord, and Zuko.

Iroh knew that Aang would look for Zuko and Katara first, even though the White Lotus insisted he make the Firelord his priority. Iroh found himself smiling a little. He respected that about the young Avatar, that he valued the life of his friends enough to disregard the White Lotus’s wishes. Iroh let out a short breath, considering the flaws in their rushed plan.

“Would you say the Avatar’s earthbending training has been going well?”

Toph scoffed. “Not at all. He’s a pathetic earthbender and a distractable fighter.”

Iroh chuckled as Toph crossed her arms and closed her eyes. He turned away and looked down. When he spoke again it was quiet, uncertain.

“Do you think he can handle himself against the Firelord?”

“Without a doubt.”

Iroh glanced at Toph in surprise. There was a hint of blush at her cheeks, but Iroh made no mention of it.

“Aang is a skilled bender, and with the power of all the past Avatars at his disposal, one puny Firelord will be nothing to him. No offense,” she added grudgingly, “to you or your family…”

Iroh chuckled again. “None taken.”

~

Aang headed down a narrow servant’s corridor, keeping ahead of Katara. He didn’t see her bloodbend, but he knew. Roku and Kyoshi began bickering incessantly ever since he had laid eyes on her. It was taboo, he knew that too, though he had never heard about it personally, sometimes he saw things that sparked a memory that wasn’t his. It was the cost of access to the Avatar’s power, he often had to share it with the long-dead, along with their memories. Aang silenced them, like he always did, but it was a solution that only lasted for as long as his focus did, and with the constant travelling to make it to the Fire Nation as quickly as possible, he hadn’t had time to properly meditate.

Aang shook his head as a yawn threatened to break free and forced himself to focus of their current goal, finding Zuko. He stayed in front of Katara, throwing nervous glances back at her, partly because she looked as though she might pass out at any moment, but also because he was scared for her. And he was scared of her. The amount of blood still staining her arms was starling to say the least. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

He didn’t ask her any questions though, recognising the cold look in her eyes. She had been tortured, he could see that. Not just from her injury but the blank expression. She had only one purpose in this moment, and that was to get to Zuko. Whatever the Firelord had done with him, Aang knew he wouldn’t kill him. The future of the Fire Nation rested on the continuation of the royal bloodline, no matter what happened here today, whether they succeeded in their mission or not.

~

Zuko tore across the stretch of grass between the edge of the woods and the palace grounds. It was overcast, thick clouds had covered the sky, blocking out the sun. A light spray of rain made Zuko have to squint into the greyness. It was cold, but he barely noticed as the back door to the kitchens came into view.

Zuko took a few seconds to get his breathing under control before he creaked open the little door and slipped inside. He had heard the explosions from the distance as he had approached the palace. The Fire Nation was under attack. Again. The White Lotus? Hope bubbled up in Zuko’s chest, they may just have a way out of there.

Zuko peaked out into the hallway. Empty. He frowned. More booms sounded, the walls shaking gently with each explosion. There were no guards in sight, unsurprisingly, since the attack was still going on. They would be heading to the wall, readying archers and catapults and waiting at the door for the enemy.

He crept along the corridor and peaked into rooms as he passed, making sure he kept out of sight. He stepped into the main hallway when he realised he would pass no one. The silence was unsettling, apart from the constant thunder of the siege beyond. It felt dangerous to be out in the open like this, but Zuko felt an overwhelming need to walk down this particular hall. He only paused when he stood outside the door to his chambers. Zuko quietly pushed the door open. It was exactly as they had left it, and for a moment a strange wave of nostalgia washed over him.

He stepped into the room and caught the scent of the jasmine perfume Katara had favoured when they had resided there, together. The bitter-sweet memory brought with it a touch of fear, the paranoia that followed him daily that their secrets would be discovered, and their delicate peace would come crashing down in an instant. How foolish he had been then, to believe things could get better, that they would learn to adjust. Now, it was clear as day that they had never been safe, never been free. Zuko had been a prisoner as much as Katara, only his was a prison of his own making.

Zuko headed back to the dungeon. He didn’t know where Katara was but if she was looking for him, that was as good a place to start as any. He only hoped he wouldn’t be spotted before he made it there. Slinking along the shadowed hallways, his ears strained, Zuko listened carefully for the sounds of footfalls, keeping his own as silent as possible.

The cell was empty, no sign of any guards, or of the Firelord, unconscious or otherwise. No sign of Katara either. The cell door lay on the ground, just as he had left it. Zuko’s eyes searched the room briefly, looking for signs that someone else had been down there since he had broken out, and found nothing. He turned to go. Something struck him, forcing his head to snap to the side.

Grunting, Zuko stumbled back into the room and shook his head to clear it. Raising his hands automatically, Zuko summoned a ball of fire before he could even make out who had hit him. Two guards stood before him, flames dancing before their own hands. Zuko grit his teeth and rushed one, feigning a blast, while he took notice of which way the second guard stepped. Before he could strike him from behind, Zuko dropped, kicking his leg out behind him and sweeping the guard’s legs out from beneath him.

The first guard dodged back, predictably, and the second fell, swearing. Zuko wasted no time hurling a fire blast at the second guard as he dropped to the floor. It struck him in the chest and threw him backwards towards the broken cell. He hit the bars with a clang and thudded to the ground, groaning. Zuko wasted no time checking to see if he got back up again, whirling to find a wall of fire flying towards his face. He dodged just in time. Dropping down again, he rolled, and when he was directly before the other guard, he kicked out and knocked him off his feet as well.

The guard fell back but jumped up immediately, drawing a frustrated growl from Zuko. He unleashed a barrage of small fire blasts in quick succession, aiming for the guard’s head, chest and legs. The guard blocked most of them but one broke through and hit him square in the stomach. He stumbled, only a little winded, but it was enough for Zuko. He leapt forward and drove a solid punch straight into the guard’s solar plexus. He gasped, struggling for air that refused to fill his lungs. Zuko grabbed the guard’s helmet with both hands and yanked it off. He headbutted the guard as hard as he could, knocking the man over. He ignored the pain that burst across his forehead.

An arm slipped around his throat, forcing Zuko to focus on the guard behind him, who had apparently gotten back up. Zuko gripped the guard’s arms, as far back as he could reach, and jumped, swinging his legs up high. When he dropped back down, he threw his body forward, yanking the guard off his feet and hurling him straight into the first one, who had just managed to get to his feet again. They collided and both of them tumbled to the ground.

Zuko stood, panting. He felt out of breath and light-headed, the days without food starting to wear on him. It was stupid to refuse the cold, stale meals out of anger. He should have forced it down as he had before. But the rage he had felt, and the fear for Katara’s life had made him sick to his stomach. Zuko shook his head again, wincing at the ache that was blooming across the side of his face from where they had hit him.

Steps sounded beside him, and he turned back to the door to face another guard that probably heard the commotion. But it wasn’t a guard. The split second of hesitation was all Ozai needed to knock Zuko’s hand away. The fire in his palm dissipated before it even grew hot enough to do any damage. In the next moment, Zuko was flying backwards from a swift kick to his stomach. He crumpled to the floor. Groaning, he struggled to his feet as quickly as he could. He suspected a cracked rib from the searing pain in his side but said nothing, leveling a glare at his father.

Ozai scowled, his disdain for Zuko obvious. It didn’t hurt him like he thought it would, Zuko only felt his resolve harden as he took a defensive stance. Ozai raised a brow, an amused expression lightening his face. He pulled off his heavy robes and tossed them to the side, facing Zuko in only a sleeveless tunic, pants tied at the waist with a sash, and deep red boots. His feet shifted into a wide stance, arms raised, but a smile curled on his face, eyes narrowing at Zuko.

Ozai didn’t wait another moment. He surged forward, fire billowing from his palm. Zuko barely dodged the flame, throwing his body into a spin. He leapt over the strike and landed on Ozai’s right. Before he could land a single blow, the Firelord swung his arm and struck Zuko with the back of his hand. Zuko stumbled back, ears ringing. Ozai raised a wave of fire from the ground. It rushed toward Zuko, hungrily swallowing up the air between them.

Zuko hardened his stance and yelled with effort as he cleaved the wave in half, passing through it. He panted, his strength faltering now. Exhaustion pulled heavily on his limbs. The half-second he took to blink the dizziness away cost him. When Zuko looked up in the next moment, Ozai was already there. He grabbed Zuko by the lapels and threw him to the side. Zuko tried to keep his footing but failed. Before he could catch himself, he crashed into the side of the cell, his head slamming against the metal. Pain flared and his legs buckled, but Zuko had no time to process it before he was being grabbed again. He struggled weakly at his father’s iron grip, vision swimming now. By the time it cleared, and he had control of his arms again, Ozai had yanked him back to his feet and pinned him against the wall. Zuko’s back smacked into the stone so violently, it knocked the breath out of him. He coughed, fighting to inhale. When he couldn’t, he quickly registered that his father held him against the wall by his throat, cutting off his air.

Zuko squirmed, it was all he could do, all he had strength to do. His mind turned to sludge, panic stabbing at him distantly. Ozai huffed, impatient, as if the entire ordeal just now was little more than an inconvenience. Zuko was tired, hungry, and felt the hopelessness of his situation like a knife to the gut.

“Cuff him,” Ozai ground out, not taking his narrowed eyes off Zuko.

The guards Zuko had fought quickly struggled to their feet, glaring daggers at Zuko. He didn’t even look at them. Even as they yanked his hands away from Ozai’s grip on his throat, making it even harder to breathe, Zuko kept his gaze on his father. He wouldn’t kill Zuko, he knew that. He needed an heir. But he would punish him, and he would continue to punish him until Zuko submitted. In that moment, their eyes locked, Zuko knew he would never bring himself to do so.

“You think this is all I can do to you?” Ozai leaned in closer as the guards clapped iron shackles over Zuko’s wrists. “This was no punishment, my son,” he gestured with a jerk of his head to the broken cell door on the ground, “you will have no such comforts as you have been afforded here. Not where you will be going now. I will not be dishonoured by your petulant behaviour again.”

Zuko grunted as the shackles were locked in place behind his back and the guards released him. Ozai’s grip on his throat tightened briefly, in warning, before he dropped him, and Zuko crumpled to the floor, gasping. Zuko’s vision darkened at the edges as he struggled for air, but he registered Ozai saying something about locking him away until he remembered how to behave.

The guards started to pick him up but stopped, dropping him. Zuko slid back down to the floor, still trying to breathe against the dizziness. When he managed to raise his head, he had a flashback to the night on the ship, sailing away from the Fire Nation, when some of the crew tried to throw him overboard. Just like that night, saw Katara, standing in the doorway, arms outstretched. The guards shuddered and fell to their knees. Something in their desperate struggles against some invisible enemy fought for Zuko’s attention, but when he realised what was happening, it was too late. The guards, kneeling on either side of him jerked once, then fell to the ground.

Zuko stared at them. Both of their heads were twisted around, their necks snapped. They stared up at him from the floor. Even Ozai stared down at them, shocked. He slowly turned to face Katara, silent fury turning his face into a mask. Zuko glanced up at Katara desperately, and opened his mouth to tell her to run, but she angled her head, eyes snapping to the Firelord. Ozai raised a hand, not fast enough.

Ozai grunted as his body froze, arm still outstretched, but his limbs no longer responding to him. Katara breathed out slowly and Ozai collapsed to his knees. Then the sickening snap of bone cut through the air. He cried out as his fingers bent backwards. Zuko felt bile rise in his throat, terror settling over him like ice along his skin. Katara kept her eyes on Ozai, expression unchanged from the wide-eyed, unfocused stare.

Aang appeared in the doorway behind her then, and Zuko’s gaze leapt to him. There must have been clear desperation in Zuko’s eyes because Aang quickly glanced at Katara. He blinked at her, a little surprised but said nothing when he looked down at Ozai on the floor. For a moment, he just stared, even as Ozai continued to scream as Katara broke his bones, one by one. Zuko knew she was breaking them, even though she stood as still as a statue at the entrance to the room, not a drop of water in sight.

Zuko screamed at Katara to stop. His father may be a bastard, but Zuko felt sick seeing him tortured. And, though he hated himself for it, this side of Katara he was seeing, clearly brought to the surface after the weeks of suffering at the hands of the Fire Nation, starvation, torture… it scared him. It sent a chill right down to his core, the blank look on her face, the lack of emotion as she broke the men that stood between her and Zuko, crushing their bodies like they were nothing more than bugs.

He must have said something that registered, somewhere in his desperate begging, because Katara relented, blinking. Ozai’s screams stopped, the Firelord panted, shoulders shaking as he was finally able to drop the arm Katara had held firmly in midair, broken in several places. Zuko sighed, relief making his body sag. His shoulders ached from the angle of his bound arms behind him. Katara stumbled over to him and Zuko looked up at her, his throat threatening to close at the sight of the terrible exhaustion in her face. That cold mask was gone, and as if reality had come flooding back to her, she finally collapsed, falling against him. Zuko shuddered, his fear evaporating as the soft warmth from Katara’s body seeped through to his. She felt fragile, her body as thin as a reed. Zuko’s chest ached and he tried not to think about what they had done to her. Whatever strength she drew from to make it here, to down multiple guards and the Firelord himself, left her now and she seemed to sag against him. His arms still chained behind his back, Zuko leaned forward, he cradled her as best as he could, resting his head on her shoulder. Katara let out a shaky breath and clung to him weakly.

Ozai, still kneeling on the floor, groaned and sucked in a breath. Zuko glanced his way and took note of his broken limbs, his fingers pointing all the wrong ways. Ozai looked up when Aang approached him.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Aang paused, like he was considering it. There was a coldness in his gaze that Zuko had only seen a few times and it made him shiver. After an eternity of staring, the moment filled with so much tension, Zuko wondered if Aang would say anything at all, the Avatar spoke.

“No.”

Aang touched one hand to Ozai’s forehead, the other to the Firelord’s chest, and light burst from his tattoos. Ozai straightened, Aang’s power flooding through him. For a moment, red light joined the blue glow of the Avatar spirit, spilling from Ozai’s eyes and mouth, but Aang’s quickly overpowered it, and cool, blue light filled the room. Zuko closed his eyes, turning as much as he could to try and shield Katara.

When the light faded, Zuko opened his eyes and blinked at the two of them. Ozai moaned softly and slumped to the floor. Aang stood over him, wobbling for a moment, but stayed upright. Zuko frowned at his father, he just lay on his side, groaning.

“What did you do to me?” Ozai’s voice was low, angry, but sounded weak.

Aang straightened, something calm, certain, in his expression. “I took away your bending.”

~

Chapter Text

The next few days passed in a blur. Shortly after Aang had stripped Ozai of his bending ability, something that Zuko still didn’t, and wasn’t sure he wanted to understand, the White Lotus seized the palace. Zuko’s uncle took control of the Fire Nation forces once they surrendered, their Firelord defeated. It seemed that there had been more unrest and discontent amongst the people that Ozai had wanted to admit. The remaining army quickly stood down when word spread that the Avatar had defeated the Firelord.

Katara spent the next few days recovering. While the White Lotus had taken over the palace, Iroh taking control as general to the Fire Nation military, and acting Firelord, it was only a temporary solution to a highly turbulent period and anxious Nation. Iroh’s command of their forces was only a momentary answer while they prepared for Zuko’s coronation.

Ozai had been moved to the dungeons, rendered harmless now that his bending was taken away, his wounds were being tended to and Zuko had been informed that he would recover use of his hands. He would never firebend again, however. Zuko found himself musing on the memory of Katara bloodbending, a secret he and Aang decided would never leave that cell. The bodies of the guards Katara had left in her trail to find Zuko were obviously found, but the only other person that might have suspected Katara of being a bloodbender was Pakku. The waterbending master had stared at Katara’s bruises, her pale skin and the horrible burn on her shoulder, and from the hard resolve that had set in his face as he worked on her broken body, Zuko could tell. He knew. He said nothing though, even when more and more bodies were found as the White Lotus inspected the tunnels of the palace, bent and twisted and shattered. Even when he visited her make-shift prison himself, noting the tiny cage they kept Katara in, he said nothing. Zuko was grateful, even though Pakku’s silence also made him suspicious. He would have to approach him eventually, to make sure his secrecy wasn’t merely a weapon in disguise. Zuko supposed it was his father’s influence that taught him not to trust anyone that knew your secrets.

For several days, Katara did little more than sleep. Zuko rested as well, but his recovery was shorter and very quickly he found himself sitting in on the daily councils with the White Lotus. The only other people he spoke to outside of those meetings are his uncle and Aang. The rest of his time was spent watching over Katara and tending to her when she did wake. Zuko did not let her leave any of the food brought to her untouched. Though she complained and growled and threatened him if he didn’t simply let her sleep, Zuko was adamant. His stubbornness surprised even him, but he didn’t let up. Within two days she had recovered enough to leave her bed, and Zuko’s stress jumped sky-high when he returned to their room one afternoon to find her missing. She had hobbled out of the room and made it halfway to the gardens when she had stumbled, her newfound strength reaching its meagre limit, and a passing servant had rushed to fetch him.

After a few days, the situation outside the palace had settled somewhat, repairs to the city were now underway. Fire Nation forces were being recalled from all over the world, word sent out that they are retreating, that there is a new Firelord. The war that had raged for the last hundred years was finally at an end. Zuko pondered the weight of his new role. He asked his uncle what would happen now, and Iroh gave him a tired smile, his shoulders dropping minutely.

“Our nation needs healing, Zuko. There will be much to do once you are crowned. But,” he squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, “you will not be alone. The White Lotus is at your disposal, but you must become the leader our people need.”

Zuko tried to process that. For two days, he mulled over his uncle’s words, trying to find some other meaning in them, as if there was some escape from this terrible burden that he had willingly shouldered. Perhaps it was some sense of patriotism or loyalty to his nation that had made him do it, though a part of him wondered if he had simply accepted the role out of spite, convinced for an insane moment that he would at least do a better job than his father had at ruling.

Aang reminded him that he and the White Lotus were in agreement, a rare thing, when they said that Zuko was the natural choice for the Fire Nation’s next ruler. Zuko had let that sink in, and he was no longer scared of the burden, but saddened by it. It was hard for him to admit the truth of it, which was that it felt right claiming his place as the new Firelord. It was something he was born to do, it was always his destiny, he just didn’t think it would happen this way. Now that he was here, it was so different than the rise to power he had imagined. There was no feeling of pride, of excitement… There was only the constant, taunting voice in his ear, whispering that he would not be enough, and the grief for the life he now knew he could never have. All the while, one question persisted at the back of his mind. What about Katara?

~

When Katara woke the next morning, she felt as though she had not been awake, properly, until that moment, not since the day in the cell with Ozai and Zuko. For the first time, she took in her surroundings. It was disorientating, she recognised the familiar walls of Zuko’s bedchambers and felt panic rise. Had their escape been nothing more than a dream? Was she still hiding, trapped in the Fire Nation? Then Zuko entered the room, bandages around his chest, his robe loose. There were healing bruises on his face, but he smiled at her. The sight of him seemed to bring her back to herself, at least in part. The hammering of her heart faded to a steady thud in her chest, no longer deafening, but she still struggled to get her breathing under control.

After an awkward moment, Katara unsure whether she would scramble from the bed anyway, and Zuko seeing that indecision in her eyes, Zuko slowly made his way to the bed. He offered her a gentle smile when she let out a slow breath, forcing her muscles to unclench. Zuko’s eyes searched her face when he sat, hesitantly, on the edge of the bed.

“You’re awake.” He said.

Katara blinked at that. She nodded, slowly. She recalled the bleary half-consciousness under which she had crawled out of bed and limped through the halls… it didn’t even feel like a real memory. More like a dream, one that seamlessly merged with others that visited her every night, images of the Fire Nation, of Azula… Katara pressed a hand to her forehead, suddenly dizzy.

Zuko’s warm touch would have startled her once, but now she felt a pressure lift from her shoulders when she felt his hand wrap gently around her wrist. He pulled her hand away from her face and looked into her eyes, his own worried.

“I’m fine.” Katara’s voice sounded scratchy, dry, so she swallowed.

Zuko seemed to relax a little, but didn’t let go of her, slipping his hand over hers. Katara squeezed his fingers, not able to keep the small smile that came. For a moment, she felt peaceful. There was no immediate threat, and for once, there were no secrets left between them. They were safe.

“What happened in the dungeon?”

That feeling of safety dried up as soon as Zuko’s question met her ears. A strange feeling of delayed panic stabbed at her gut, along her skin, and suddenly it was once again hard to breathe. Zuko seemed to notice a change in her and he moved to touch Katara’s face. Out of instinct, she jerked away, though she regretted it immediately from the hurt on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she tried, her mouth still dry, “it’s- not you.”

“I know.”

Katara glanced up at Zuko at that, not sure she could hide her expression.

“I mean,” he let out a short, humourless laugh, “I don’t know, I couldn’t… I just know whatever happened, whatever you had to do to get out… it wasn’t easy for you.”

Katara scoffed and looked down. She wanted to tell him that he wasn’t wrong, it was the hardest thing she’d ever done. But it would be a lie. The truth was that it had been easy. Far too easy to make that choice, to compromise something in her heart for the sake of her own survival, and for Zuko’s. There had been one goal that had occupied her thoughts when she walked out of that cell, no guard moving to stop her – no guard able to stop her. She had to get to him.

The power had been intoxicating, knowing that every being that came before her, to stand in her way, she could bend to her will. Even in the moment, she knew the feeling was dangerous, but that thought had been so distant, and the feeling so heady, that it hadn’t even slowed her down. It wasn’t until Aang had found her, and something nagged at her to look again, at the person that was standing in front of her. He wasn’t an enemy, he wasn’t an obstacle, he was a person, one she knew and trusted. What wasn’t easy was stopping.

“I would do it again,” Katara finally said, quietly.

She wouldn’t look at him, afraid of what she would find if she did. Disgust? Horror? She wouldn’t lie to him, wouldn’t hide that part of herself that kept her alive at her lowest point, but she wasn’t sure she could handle the sight of all that love she now knew she cherished disappearing in an instant.

“It was difficult, but not for the reason you think.” Katara looked over to the window, clutching the blanket beneath her hand. “Do you know how I escaped?” It was barely more than a whisper.

When Zuko didn’t answer right away, Katara finally made herself look his way. The colour had drained from his face but he didn’t take his eyes off her. Katara levelled him with a somewhat challenging gaze, as if he would back down, as if he might decide he didn’t want to know in the end.

“I saw the blood,” he finally said, swallowing, “and the bodies.”

Katara stared at him, waiting. Zuko dropped his gaze, and something like shame crossed his face. Katara sighed, she knew he would try not to think about it, see the decimation and try to explain away the callous bloodshed that she had trailed throughout the underground passages of the temple. He wanted to believe that whatever beast that had taken over her body to get her out of that cell left her the moment she’d found him. It hadn’t

“I don’t remember it.” Katara dropped her gaze, not out of shame, but because she had suddenly become numb. “I was in the cell, and then suddenly I was outside. I can remember the stone beneath my feet, and the pain in my shoulder as I walked out… But I can’t remember how I did it.”

“Do you remember when you found me?” Zuko said after a long pause.

Katara nodded, still not looking at him. “I remember what I did, when I saw your father there. But it wasn’t like I thought about doing it. I didn’t even realise what I was doing until you said my name.” She swallowed, suddenly unsure she wanted to voice her next thought. “I liked it,” she whispered, “having that much power, over the person who hurt you.”

“He hurt you too.”

Katara blinked up at him at that. He hadn’t even hesitated, hadn’t shown any indication of disgust or fear of her at her admission. His thoughts had turned immediately to her, to how Ozai had wronged her, as if it made it fair for her to break his fingers one at a time. Zuko was the most honourable person she knew, certainly more honourable than her. If he hadn’t been there to stop her, Katara knew she wouldn’t have stopped at breaking a few of the Firelord’s bones. She wondered were Azula’s body lay now, whether Ozai had bothered burying it… she didn’t know how the Fire Nation honoured their dead, she realised. Probably with a massive pyre…

“Maybe you needed that darkness, that power, to survive.” Zuko’s words were quiet, like he wanted to be careful with them. “It kept you alive, but you don’t need it anymore.” Zuko reached for Katara’s hand.

Katara flinched at the contact, but didn’t pull away. Her shoulder still throbbed. Bandaged for now, but when Pakku had come into their chambers several times when she had been semi-conscious to heal her wound, she had refused him. She wasn’t sure why, maybe the pain was her way of punishing herself. Maybe she deserved it. Now, she only regretted it. Pain had been her only companion for weeks, she could barely remember the person she was without it.

“Maybe not,” she said absently, “but it’s there, all the same.”

Zuko’s face crumpled a little, and even though he hid it quickly, Katara didn’t miss the swift flash of disappointment in his eyes. Although, maybe that wasn’t quite right… It wasn’t disappointment he was trying to hide from her, it was fear. Rightfully so, she thought, really, he should be afraid of her. So, when Zuko’s hand tightened suddenly around hers, Katara stared up in surprise. There was nothing but relief in his face now, eyes shining as he met her gaze again.

“I know.”

Katara doubted that, and her face must have said as much because Zuko sighed and pulled her hand close to his chest.

“I know that, I saw it. First with Azula, then when we were in Omashu… I know. But it doesn’t make me love you any less.”

Katara’s own treacherous heart took up a quickened pace, thudding almost painfully in her chest at his words. She found herself wanting to reach for him, to kiss him. But that heavy tiredness pressed down on her still, so she settled for squeezing his hand gently. Zuko’s shoulders visibly relaxing was enough to make her chest ache, the sensation a relief from the seemingly permanent grief that lay over her, even if only for a few moments.

“I’ll let you rest,” was all he said before he stood, slowly releasing her hand.

Katara found herself stifling a yawn, even as she wished he wouldn’t leave. Her eyelids grew heavy again and the ache in her shoulder reminded her that her body still had much healing to do.

~

Chapter Text

The Fire Nation Navy started returning to the capital, and while there was still a lot of disorder, thanks to Iroh, most of it was contained. Zuko was happy to let his uncle handle the complexities of organising the chaos, but with the White Lotus also looking to him, he knew he would have to step up soon. One morning, Zuko walked into the council chamber, looking for his uncle. He found him mid-discussion with Katara’s father, Hakoda. As he approached, he caught the end of their conversation.

“The Southern Water Tribe will not forget your kindness.” Hakoda smiled. “I hope our people can continue to be allies, even friends in the coming months. I can’t speak for our Northern brothers and sisters, though they indeed came to our aid in the battle here, but should you ever need the assistance of the Water Tribe, the South is at your disposal.”

“Thank you Hakoda, the Fire Nation has much rebuilding ahead of it, but I see a long era of peace ahead of us. We wish you good luck with your journey home.”

“Thank you.”

Hakoda dipped his head as he stepped backwards then, a modest bow between two leaders, but a clear sign of respect. His eyes turned on Zuko, who thought he saw a flash of a grimace when he met his eyes, but Hakoda offered Zuko the same nod and smiled. Zuko returned it, watching Hakoda walk out of the room.

“They’re leaving.”

“Yes,” Iroh turned away, heading to the mess of scrolls piled on the table, “they will set sail to return to the South Pole in three days.”

Zuko wasn’t surprised, or he shouldn’t have been. So why did the knowledge seem to gut him, to make him suddenly need to sit down. He did, to cover that his knees were on the verge of buckling. Iroh had already sat in the chair before the scrolls, and he glanced over at Zuko, his face calm, though Zuko could see the shadows under his eyes. Zuko hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since the first night the White Lotus took control of the capital. He could only imagine the level of exhaustion that his uncle bore silently, almost the entire weight of the nation resting on his shoulders, albeit temporarily.

“Katara will be going with them.”

Iroh looked up again when Zuko spoke, and for a moment was silent.

“Yes,” he finally said.

Zuko looked down at the table. He had had days to consider this, he knew she would leave eventually. She had never wanted to come there in the first place, it was never her choice. Katara was brought there as a prisoner, and now that she was reunited with her family, they each had their own duties to their people. Katara had been the leader of the Southern Water tribe for years, the last waterbender of the South, and both Zuko and Iroh new that Katara felt the weight of that duty heavily, every day she spent in the Fire Nation. Ozai had held that over her, threatening the fate of her people should she disobey. Now she was free. And yet, Zuko’s eyes burned.

Zuko had spent years, living under the same roof as Ozai, and Azula, perfecting his mask. He could not afford to show weakness in the palace. The only person who had ever seen him at his worst, and had not taken advantage of that, was Iroh. Zuko’s uncle was everything he imagined a father to be. Kind, patient, loving. Everything Ozai was not. Though the two years at sea had remained in Zuko’s memory as the worst years of his life, now he looked back on them fondly. He may have been uncomfortable, angry and miserable, but he was loved, and even at his lowest point, Iroh had stayed by his side. So, Zuko did not even think to hide his pain from his uncle. The tears came, and Iroh’s only reaction was to reach for Zuko and wrap his arms around him.

Zuko found himself wondering the halls later, feeling numb. He wasn’t sure if it was a conscious decision, but he found himself standing in front of Aang’s chambers. Before he could knock on the door, it opened and, to his surprise, Toph stood there. She looked at him, unseeing eyes unfocused but her expression amused, as if she expected him. He supposed she would have, she probably sensed him coming.

“Firelord Zuko,” she drawled by way of greeting, “what an honour.”

Zuko found himself at a loss for words. Even the instinct to correct his title, he hadn’t been crowned yet, Iroh was still the temporary Firelord. Suddenly, his vocabulary was limited to basic vowels.

“Uh… I-”

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Toph said with a smirk as she stepped out of the room, revealing a shirtless and rather breathless-looking Aang sitting on the bed behind her.

Zuko stared, shock rendering him completely speechless now. Toph sauntered out, a satisfied grin on her face that was practically feline. It wasn’t until Toph was halfway down the hall that Zuko realised that was the first time she had ever spoken to him directly. It wasn’t the most extensive conversation but it would have to be their first. If Zuko was entirely honest, he was a little intimidated by the earthbender.

Zuko watched her walk further away, disappearing around the corner. When he looked back to Aang, the Avatar was walking towards him, still dressed only in trousers. Zuko raised an eyebrow at the slight pinkness on Aang’s cheeks, his lips a little swollen. Aang laughed softly but didn’t appear ashamed in the least. Zuko had to admit, he was a little impressed.

“What can I do for you, Firelord?”

Zuko grimaced but didn’t bother correcting him, instead just levelled Aang with an irritated look. The younger boy had the gall to chuckle as he leaned casually against the doorframe and cross his arms.

“The Water Tribe are going home, Hakoda and the others will be returning to the South Pole.” Zuko tried to sound as calm as possible, though his chest ached as he said the words. “They wanted to know if you would go with them, help them rebuild.”

Aang’s nonchalant expression slipped away slowly. He glanced away, considering this. After a moment, he nodded and looked back up at Zuko.

“I lost my people, so much of the Air Nomads is gone forever. I bear the responsibility of my entire culture – what’s left of it, anyway…”

Zuko didn’t insult him by looking away when the lump of guilt settled in his throat like a stone. He kept his gaze on Aang. This boy had the history and future of an entire culture resting on his shoulders, Zuko couldn’t even imagine.

“I will spend the rest of my life rebuilding my culture, so I understand how important it is to them. It’s the Avatar’s duty to bring balance to the world, so it’s my responsibility to help them however I can.”

“You’ll have help,” Zuko assured him, feeling suddenly more certain than he had in months, “however I can, whatever resources you need. You have the new Firelord’s support.”

Aang’s eyebrows rose sardonically. “The new Firelord? Really?”

Zuko scoffed and crossed his arms, though a smile curled the edge of his lip. Aang chuckled and the two sighed. Zuko shook his head. He glanced back at Aang, only to find the Avatar frowning at the floor suddenly. The calm that had settled over Zuko for a moment evaporated at his expression.

“Katara will be going back with them,” Aang said slowly, “won’t she?”

Zuko swallowed, knowing he couldn’t hide his discomfort even if he tried. He nodded. Aang didn’t say anything to that, just looked at the floor again. The silence became awkward, but just as Zuko was about to open his mouth to make some excuse to leave, Aang spoke.

“You should spend whatever time you have left with her.”

Zuko blinked in surprise.

“She is probably just as torn as you feel.”

Zuko considered this, glancing back at the corner Toph had disappeared around. He glanced back at Aang.

“Will Toph be returning to the Earth Kingdom?”

Aang nodded, a sad smile flashing across his face. “They both have a duty to their people now.”

Zuko thought about that. It irked him, settled uncomfortably in his stomach and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Her duty… Everything that Katara had been through in the last year had been because of that duty to her people. She had been through unimaginable fear and pain because she believed she was protecting the Water Tribe, protecting Yue… It sickened him that they would still ask more of her.

“Hey,” Aang snapped his fingers in front of Zuko’s face, “don’t.”

“What?”

“You’re spiralling. Stop it.”

Zuko frowned at Aang but didn’t argue. He tried to let the tangle of frustration and anxiety scatter, or at least settle, and took a deep breath.

“I guess this is goodbye, then.” Zuko sighed and tried for a smile.

Aang put a hand on Zuko’s arm. “We’ll see each other again, very soon I think. We’ve got a lot of work to do to set the world right again.”

Zuko smiled at that. That they did.

~

As the Water Tribe prepared their ships for their journey South again, Katara savoured the smell of the sea and the warmth of the late afternoon sun on her face. The Fire Nation would be behind them in a day’s time. She still felt weak, and no one would let her help because she was still recovering, but she wanted to be around her people. Hakoda appeared next to her, having come to stand at the edge of the dock where she watched the others continue to load things onto the boat. There wasn’t much really, just supplies, they were all eager to return home, but there were still a few men that needed another day to heal and were recovering in the makeshift hospital wing of the palace that was set up in the days after the attack. But Water Tribe warriors were as tough as seal leather, they wouldn’t wait more than another day. Katara could feel the same pull they did to sail back home. But these days, her heart felt pulled another way…

She took in the sight of the heavily laden ships silently, not moving even when her father glanced her way. She didn’t react, not outwardly anyway, when he spoke.

“The other warriors have all decided, the wounded included. We leave tomorrow. Soon all of this will be behind us,” he said softly, as if trying to reassure her, “we will have a chance to be a family again.”

Katara shifted but still didn’t look at him. Hakoda turned his gaze back to the sea as well, as if they had mutually decided to stand in silence, though she sensed him deflate a little. She couldn’t quite feel the sting of guilt at that. But she did note, with a surprise, a twinge of sadness at his words. She was sad to be leaving.

“We all need the chance to heal from this,” Hakoda started again, “and being with the people that love us most will make that healing process easier.”

When she heard that, Katara’s mind instant went to Zuko. Katara thought about how relieved she had been when she saw him, that day in the cell, Ozai standing over him, how angry she had been. Then, nothing. As if her mind refused to acknowledge the memory of what had happened. Hakoda watched his daughter, trying to gauge her feelings. He wouldn’t be able to, she wasn’t the same girl he had left behind when they went off to war, he didn’t know this woman. Katara wasn’t sure she knew her either. She walked away without saying anything, leaving Hakoda standing alone.

~

Zuko stood on the balcony, watching the platoons of Fire Nation soldiers still rolling in. Ships had been docking every day, returning hundreds of men and women. Many were disgruntled, disappointed. They were loyal to Ozai, and Zuko knew it would be hard to gain their trust. But he would, with time. He knew it was not something he could ignore, leaving the potential for a loyalist uprising. He’d have to keep an eye on it.

He looked down at the procession that came through the inner gate now, he could make out the faces of the family that walked, surrounded by guards. They had been summoned from New Ozai, King Bumi reclaiming the city as Omashu. They had wanted it to be a civil transition, the governor and his family allowed to leave peacefully, now the responsibility of the new Firelord – or soon-to-be-Firelord, in a few days’ time, that was.

Mai looked up at him, their eyes meeting. Even over the distance, Zuko could make out her blank expression, the one she reserved for people she truly found beneath her. Still, she held his gaze, as if to say she wasn’t afraid of him. She had no reason to be. Even though she and her husband were technically guilty of treason against the Firelord, and his wife…

Zuko’s thoughts returned to Katara and his spirit felt heavy. He wanted to do as Aang had suggested, to spend every moment he could with her, for as long as they had. But the thought of laying eyes on her again, knowing that he would have to say goodbye, and soon… They hadn’t spoken since that morning she had finally risen, some of her strength returning. She still looked so fragile.

She didn’t want to be in the palace. Katara had clambered out of bed and dressed, despite Zuko’s arguing with her. She stubbornly put one foot in front of the other and left, saying something about looking for Pakku. Zuko had let her go, though he wanted to stay by her side. In fact, he was determined not to let her out of his sight again, but something in her face told him to back off. She barely spared him a glance after their initial conversation, there was something else on her mind, and Zuko, in truth, was still a little bit scared of her, though he was ashamed of that. He wasn’t about to try and stop her doing anything. So, he let her leave, hoping she would come back before the Water Tribe left.

Zuko leaned on the banister, savouring the cool breeze on his face. The sun was beginning to set. It was beautiful. He didn’t realise how much he had missed home. Though there were many painful memories about this place, many things he wished he could forget, Zuko felt almost at peace.

“I had hoped you would be back,” Zuko said when a figure came to stand beside him.

He turned to Katara, smiling sadly. Katara didn’t respond but met his eyes before Zuko looked back to the view. Zuko felt at ease enough to not feel the need for conversation. After everything they had been through together, they didn’t need to talk. This was enough. Her presence beside him now, even with the space between them, felt like a balm on the pain the knowledge of her departure caused him. But it also reminded him that that departure was imminent. Still, he was glad to see her again.

“I know the Water Tribe will be leaving in the morning.”

Katara still said nothing. Zuko glanced down at her. Her eyes were on the sea, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on her face. His eyes drifted to her neck, and he noted with a start that she was still scared. The wound was healed, Pakku would have insisted, but the scar remained.

“Why didn’t you let Pakku heal the scar?”

He kept his voice calm, suddenly afraid she would clam up and stop speaking altogether. He was almost startled when she did respond.

“I don’t want to forget,” she said it plainly, like it was something obvious, “You can’t, after all.”

They stood, watching the sunset together. Time seemed to stop briefly, in this moment of contentment, but it was precarious like a crest of a wave. Katara finally spoke, breaking the silence.

“Can we pretend that I’m not leaving?”

Zuko turned to her, surprised, but he waited, sensing she wasn’t finished. Katara took a few moments before she went on.

“Can we pretend that we met at a party, that you weren’t a prince, and I wasn’t Water Tribe?”

She kept her eyes forward, a bright shine coating them now, then the words began to flow out of her, like a dam had broken.

“Could we pretend that we started talking, and that I asked if I could see you again, that you said yes and we got to know one another, slowly. That we had time, that we were happy, and one day, you asked me to marry you.”

Finally, she turned to him, not quite meeting his gaze, and the pain in her eyes made something in his chest crack.

“Could we pretend, for a moment, that we weren’t saying goodbye?”

Zuko felt his resolve leave him, little by little as she spoke, his heart stuttering when he heard her voice break. Katara finally looked at him, her blue eyes shone with unshed tears. With a shaky breath, Zuko threw aside his decision to keep his distance, reaching for Katara’s face. She melted at his touch, automatically meeting his body halfway. Zuko’s hand slipped into her hair as he kissed her. Katara’s hands curled into fists, gripping the front of his robe like he would be stolen away from her. She deepened the kiss, releasing her desperate grip on him for a moment, only to cup his face.

Zuko’s body acted of its own accord, lost in her touch, her taste… Jasmine and honeysuckle, the scent was so subtle, and it was driving him wild. His hands roamed, and though his eyes were closed, he explored the curves of her body, admiring them, worshipping them. Wherever her hands brushed over his body, heat trailed, adding to the fire that was blooming in his chest. At first, her touch was tentative, unsure, but with every kiss, her hesitation slipped away. Zuko pulled her closer, feeling her arch as her body pressed against his. The only thing still separating them was a few layers of fabric, and that disappeared in seconds.

~

Katara felt as though her body didn’t belong to her, it had its own intentions, its own desires. She wanted to feel his arms around her, feel his body pressed against hers. The need was overpowering, silencing everything else that her mind tried to dredge up. There was nothing in the world but their kiss.

It wasn’t until the gentle touch of cold air brushed over her skin that Katara realised her clothes lay at their feet. She stood in nothing but her underwear, but she wasn’t cold at all. Zuko’s chest was bare as well, and she also realised that her hands were the ones pulling at his waistband. The shock was barely enough to make her pause. Already that fire was back, and Zuko’s self-control seemed to be just as frayed as hers.

Before she could regain that control, that sense that seemed to have abandoned her now, Zuko’s hands slid to her hips and then she was in the air. Instinctively, she clung to him, and then her body was tugged against him. The bare skin of his muscled chest was flush against her stomach. Something tightened, low in her abdomen, and a shiver went through her. Zuko was walking, though his golden eyes never left hers, and then she was falling. She only felt the drop for less than a second, then she registered that she was lying in his bed. Their bed.

Zuko was there instantly, one hand planted on the bed beside her for balance, the other he used to pull her closer, sliding down her side and behind the small of her back. She gasped as his lips found her neck and traced kisses down to her shoulder. Her hands were on his chest, his shoulders, in his hair… Zuko continued his tantalising kisses, so gentle she wanted to scream her frustration. She wanted more.

An unfamiliar heat spread through her and Katara found herself moving without knowing when she had decided to. They were rolling, and suddenly Zuko lay on his back, staring up at Katara with surprise. A distant part of her gaped at what she had done, but it only lasted for a moment. A foreign, hungry part of her raised its head in that moment, and Katara distantly regarded it with interest. She didn’t have time to question it however, because that part of her was suddenly the one in control. Zuko’s stunned expression lasted only a second longer before Katara’s mouth landed on his.

Neither of them wanted to acknowledge the future that lay before them like a gaping chasm. Neither of them could bear to imagine what tomorrow would be like, now that they both knew this was the last time Katara would ever see Zuko again. They were from different worlds; their meeting was something so unexpected and unpredictable that she knew nothing like it would happen again in her lifetime. Katara’s heart ached even as her body sang at his touch.

The kiss became more urgent, Zuko’s hands squeezed her hips, sliding up her back. It drew another shiver from Katara, who suddenly wanted very much to feel those hands all over her body. There was no fear or embarrassment anymore. Zuko’s need was as obvious to Katara as her own, which only fuelled the burning beneath her skin. He pulled her hard against him, crushing any space between, and his mouth returned to her neck, gentle kisses becoming more fervent, desperate.

Katara felt weightless, as if her body suddenly consisted of nothing but air, or fire. Everywhere Zuko touched her, with his hand, his lips, ignited. Love – the certainty of it burned in her chest like a flame. It burned so intensely that it hurt, and it overpowered everything else. Nothing else registered in her mind, not the exhaustion from the last few weeks, the terror, not even the impending starkness of her future without him. All that mattered was this moment, here with him, and she wouldn’t waste a second of it.

She had been nervous, but now she couldn’t remember why. Zuko pulled back, only a little, to look at her questioningly. Katara didn’t wait for him to finish speaking before she answered that question with a ravenous kiss. Her hands drifted lower, and she felt the instant Zuko’s restraint snapped. She wasn’t sure when their kiss had become something else entirely, but with every touch, she yearned for more. It wasn’t enough. None of it was enough. Katara moaned as Zuko tore the remaining cloth away from their bodies and nothing lay between them anymore.

~

Chapter Text

Katara stood at the docks, staring at the open sea ahead of them. The last of the supplies were being packed onto the ship. It was just before dawn, and the air was cold. Though Katara had spent her life surrounded by ice and snow, the months in the Fire Nation’s climate had made her soft. Despite the stab of shame, she wrapped her arms around herself and let out a sigh.

Katara left Zuko while he was still sleeping, the first light of morning just starting to brighten the sky. She took nothing from the belongings that had been hers for the months she had spent living as a princess of the Fire Nation, leaving behind the fine robes and jewellery. Donning nothing but borrowed Water Tribe garb, she slipped out of the palace silently. She didn’t want to wake anyone, least of all Zuko. Her throat constricted when her mind returned to him, so she shook her head, forcing herself to forget the sight of him sleeping so peacefully in the bed they had shared. She didn’t have it in her to say goodbye, and somehow she knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it any more than she could. It was better this way.

Katara had stopped at the start of the jetty, looking at the small ships docked in a tight cluster, ready to set sail. Most of the Water Tribe warriors were already boarded, those who weren’t did final checks around the ships. One of them glanced her way and turned back, calling out to someone. Katara’s eyes followed to the person who turned and started heading towards her.

Katara watched her father approach until he was close enough to meet her gaze, then she looked back to the ship. She wasn’t sure why she hesitated there, feet refusing to take another step. Hakoda stopped a few paces away, watching her. She glanced his way once, trying not to grimace at the concerned look he regarded her with.

“What?” She asked, suddenly tired.

Hakoda hesitated now. He looked back at the ship, turning away slightly. It made her relax a little, without his full attention on her. Still, his presence did little more than irritate her these days. Their relationship still felt the strain of the distance between them, the time lost and the grief they had both had to carry alone. Katara knew she would need to let that anger go, and she would, eventually. It would take time, however. She supposed that they would have all the time in the world now. That thought lifted her spirits, if only minutely.

“I had thought everything would somehow go back to the way it was, once the war was over.” Hakoda kept his gaze on the ships as he spoke, and Katara heard a heavy sadness in his voice. “I thought, maybe, I would be able to come home, and we could be a family again. I could remember what it was to be a father, instead of just a leader and a warrior…”

Katara felt the prickle of tears, but bit her lip to keep from letting them gather. She didn’t move, didn’t speak.

“Now, I know too much time has passed, not just for me… You became a woman, and a warrior, and I wasn’t even there to see it. And Sokka…”

Now Katara did cry. She remained silent, but she couldn’t stop the tears that fell at the mention of her brother. She remembered the faces that had come to her mind’s eye when she had meditated by the pond beside Aang. Her heart ached at the memory of the love she felt for the family she had lost, even her father. The ache did not recede, or diminish, brought to the surface once more by the loss of someone else, someone she was leaving behind now. She bit down hard on her lip, determined not to voice that heartache, but the tears still flowed.

“I know things will not be as they were, and I don’t expect your trust, not after what you have been through here, but daughter,” Hakoda’s voice wavered.

Katara found herself turning to him, eyes burning.

“I want you to know that my love for you gave me the strength to keep fighting all these years, and it will remain in my heart for the rest of my days. Even if you choose not to return to the South.”

Katara stared at him. Not return? She blinked. The shock must have been all over her face because Hakoda managed a small, sad smile.

“He may be Fire Nation, but he is a good man. And I know he is not his father, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him.” He chuckled weakly.

Katara continued to stare at her father, her brain not quite understanding what she was hearing. Not return to the South… How could- Katara looked down, suddenly feeling light-headed.

“I’ve been so cruel to you.”

Katara cursed her voice for wavering. She squeezed her eyes shut to try to fend off more tears. Her hand, currently wrapped around the fur lining of her coat tightened into a fist.

“I deserved it.” Hakoda’s voice was gentle.

“No,” Katara shook her head, “no, you didn’t. I was just so angry… I am angry. I had to be strong for our people, and I was. But I want to forgive you, to have my father back…”

She looked up at him now. Hakoda had stepped closer and, just as she looked up, he pulled her into his arms once more. Katara let out a shuddering breath, her hands clutching the fabric of his coat.

“I know,” Hakoda murmured into her hair, “I know. I will always be your father, and I will always be here for you, when you need me. But you don’t need to be so strong anymore, my darling girl. The war is over, our people are safe now.”

“I protected our people-”

“Yes, you did. You were so brave. And we will thrive now, rebuild, and grieve what we have lost. But you are free to make your own choices now, daughter. If you choose to stay…”

Katara pulled back, vision a little blurry as she looked at her father with a heavy heart.

“Know that I love you, and you are always and forever Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. Daughter of the Chief, and the strongest War Chief the South has ever seen. You are the last waterbender of the South and wherever you go, whatever you become from now, you will always have a place to come back to.”

Katara shuddered, a sob climbing up her throat. She gripped her father tightly and dove back into his arms. Hakoda hugged her tightly. Katara let a sob escape but held her breath to keep from crying more. They didn’t separate until a loud bellow sounded and the ground shook slightly. Katara peered through the dust that had been kicked up as Appa landed to the left of them with a thud. Aang hopped off the bison and grinned at Katara as he walked over.

“I was wondering if I’d see you.” Aang smiled at Katara knowingly.

Katara frowned.

“Well,” Aang looked at Hakoda, as if he hadn’t just implied he knew Katara’s choice before she had even made it, “Appa and I are happy to carry any of the wounded that are too weak, and since it will take quite some time to get to the South Pole at your pace, we’ll be imposing on the hospitality of your ships when he needs to rest.” Aang tossed him a cheeky grin.

Hakoda chuckled. “The lead ship carries enough hay to feed your friend for the journey.”

Aang’s smile grew. He turned to Katara, who sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of the choice before her. Hakoda patted her arm once, and Katara looked at her father, the heat of her old anger nothing but a sputtering flame in that moment. He smiled at her, a warm, loving smile, and turned away, making his way back to the ships. Katara’s chest ached as she watched him go, wondering if this would be the last time she would see him, or simply the start of them learning to be more than just warriors in a time a war. She wondered if she could see the glint of the sun on the ice without feeling the stab of fear that a raid was on the way, or if she could stomach the smell of smoking seal without keeping one eye on the horizon. Could she fall asleep in a tent knowing she was safe? Would she still dream of Fire Nation uniforms storming their village?

“Hey.”

Katara jerked when Aang’s voice sounded beside her, closer than he had been a moment ago. He waited until she looked his way before he laid a hand on her shoulder. Katara tried for a smile but failed. Aang sighed and looked toward the ships as well.

“I can’t claim to know what you’re going through,” he said softly, “but I do know that the future isn’t set in stone. We are capable of change, some more than others… And sometimes all we can do is change. You’re not the same person you were before the war touched your lives, neither am I. And I think you’re not the same person you were when you came to the Fire Nation. Maybe it is time to make some choices for yourself.”

“My people need me.” Katara said it quietly, and with little conviction.

“No.” Aang shook his head. “Your father is returning now, they have their chief, if you decide to return, you should return for yourself, not anyone else.”

Katara swallowed. Aang’s hand fell away from her shoulder and she heard his footsteps recede. She kept her gaze forward, on the sunlight that was beginning to flash across the surface of the bay. Mirror to the colour flooding across the sky, it painted the water with an explosion of bright yellow, orange and red, like fire.

~

Zuko woke to a cold, empty bed. He had drifted off to sleep with his arm around Katara, her hair spilling across the pillow like water. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so content, so peaceful. He knew the morning would be agonizing, that his heart would feel as though it was ripped from his chest, but that didn’t make it any easier when he woke alone.

At first, he panicked. In his sleep-addled mind, for a moment, he feared she had been caught again, or he had been secreted away from her. But a moment later, the disorientation faded away, and he remembered. The grief cut through him like a knife. He wasn’t surprised to find her gone, not once that initial jolt of fear died down. Katara had spent so long hiding, in her time in the Fire Nation. Hiding her bending, her rage… Zuko had fought with his feelings towards her, and then with her own instincts towards him. They had always been heading to this, he supposed despondently, destined to go their separate ways once the war ended. He wasn’t sure what he had hoped for, blindly holding on to nothing more than a feeling. But fate had other things in mind.

Zuko dragged himself out of bed, chest almost caving in when he caught sight of the dark blue of Katara’s necklace, lying on the half-drawn covers of the bed. With shaking hands, he reached for the pendant, fingers closing around the carved stone as he choked back tears. In all the time he had known Katara, she had never taken the necklace off. It was precious to her, he knew that, something she kept close that was a vestige of her past life. She wouldn’t have accidentally left it behind. He could tell that she had draped it carefully over the space she’d left on her side of the bed, the carved side facing up so that he would see it. It spoke volumes that she would leave it for him, and the ache that grew in his chest when he held the stone in his hands became unbearable.

No.

Zuko gripped the necklace. No, no, NO. He strode out of the room. The walls of the palace blurred past him as he hurried out to the gates. He had to get to the docks. The sun was already rising over the water. The Water Tribe was to leave at dawn, he was going to miss it. Zuko ran through the inner city, and in what was probably minutes but felt like a lifetime, he stood, panting at the top of the stairs, just outside the outer gates. The Water Tribe ships were gone, and if he squinted, tiny shadows out near the horizon dotted the surface of the water.

He'd missed it. They were already gone. Zuko felt his stomach drop. The stitch in his side faded as his breathing steadied, but it was replaced by the familiar ache when he realised he was too late. Tears burned in his eyes but he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head sharply. He took an unsteady breath.

“Zuko.”

Zuko’s eyes snapped open. He turned slowly, scared that if he allowed himself to hope, to believe his own ears for a second, his heart would break all over again. Katara stood nearby, several steps down the curving stairs to the docks. She had been making her way up to the gate, and her blue eyes bore into his as he stared at her in disbelief. He staggered a step towards her, his legs suddenly weak.

“I couldn’t say goodbye…” Katara stammered, her face and voice both tight with emotion, “I thought… if I just left, it would be easier…”

Zuko forced his feet to take another step, not taking is eyes off Katara.

“I’m sorry, I know it was wrong…” Katara’s voice cracked.

Zuko wobbled on his feet a little as he descended the first step. Katara climbed another, eyes still gazing into his with a desperation he knew she could see reflected in his.

“I wanted-”

Katara’s words were cut off when Zuko practically snatched her by the waist. He pulled her close and clutched her tightly.

“You stayed.” He breathed into her neck, feeling his heart stammer back to life. “You’re staying.”

Katara gasped when he grabbed her, but after a second, he felt her hands rise and settle on his back, arms wrapping around him lightly, hesitating. Then she sighed and hugged him tightly. Warmth spread through him and he squeezed his eyes shut once more.

“I’m staying.” She murmured, her voice wavering.

Zuko pulled back to look at her for a moment before he leaned down to kiss her. Katara gripped his robe and pulled him forward at the same time, closing the distance between them. The hopelessness he had felt this morning was gone. Relief, soft and sweet, was overwhelming. Zuko broke away, only to rest his forehead against hers. If it was possible, his grip on her tightened.

“Is this real?” He asked in a whisper. “You’re staying with me?”

Katara nodded, making Zuko’s head shake a little. Her hands curled into the fabric of his robe. Zuko coughed out a laugh, or maybe it was a sob, and Katara’s hand rose to cup his face. He opened his eyes to look at her and took her hand in his. He smiled at her, though tears began to build at the sight of the hopeful smile she offered him.

He realised he still had her necklace wrapped around his hand. He looked down at it and held it out to her. Katara gently took it from his fingers, looking at it with a sadness that tugged at his heart. She smiled up at him and reached for his face again. He kissed her then, letting all of that hope burn through the kiss, willing her to feel just how much that meant to her. How much she was a part of him, half of his soul. Katara broke the kiss now, pulling away just enough to whisper the words against his lips.

“I’m staying with you.”

~

The sun beamed down on the streets of the capital. Winter was heavily on the way, the air chilly, but people gathered before the palace in droves regardless. The weeks of rebuilding had done much to clear the debris from the attack, and the people of the capital had grown used to the presence of the White Lotus, members from all over the world walking their streets, helping repair buildings and delivering food to houses. Even a few waterbenders remained, assisting the Fire Nation doctors, with Katara’s and Master Pakku’s overbearing instruction.

Zuko fiddled with his robes, the finest he had ever laid eyes on, let alone deigned to wear. Iroh stepped into the hallway where Zuko lingered, nervous.

“It’s almost time,” Iroh said with a smile, “you look regal, nephew. It suits you.”

“I don’t know about that.” Zuko chuckled, not quite able to hide his anxiety.

“I’ve waited for this day for a long time.” Iroh hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps not in this way, but the Fire Nation has been waiting for a new reign for a long time. You will do well as Firelord.”

Zuko looked down, trepidation rising at his uncle’s reassurance. “What if I don’t?”

Iroh put a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko glanced up at his uncle, suddenly more than a little apprehensive. Iroh smiled at him.

“Impossible,” he said simply, “you were born for this, Zuko. It’s in your blood.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Zuko said quietly, holding Iroh’s gaze.

“You are not Ozai. You’re not Azula. You are your mother’s son. A good man.”

Zuko felt his throat tighten at the mention of his mother. Once this had all calmed down, perhaps one day, he would have time to look into her disappearance, all those years ago. Iroh patted his shoulder and turned away, offering him one last smile.

“Good luck, nephew. Remember, the weight of the crown does not rest on you alone, trust the friends around you.”

Zuko smiled back, though he probably still looked uncomfortable. Iroh chuckled again before he ducked behind the curtain once more. Beyond the curtain lay the future, throngs of people surrounded the palace in the courtyard below, ready to see him accept the crown and become their new Firelord. Zuko squared his shoulders.

“Go on, say it.”

Zuko glanced over his shoulder and his heart stuttered briefly. Katara walked towards him, fussing over a delicate, decorative ribbon attached to the sash of her robe.

“I look ridiculous.”

She looked up at him with a half-grin on her face. When she saw his expression, she stopped. Zuko tried to remember how to breathe. Her hair was adorned with antique pins, sparkling jewellery hung from her ears, at her throat and on her wrists. The robes she had been dressed in, layers draped elegantly and with great care he was sure, billowed around her as she walked and tumbled back into place when she stopped in her tracks.

“You’re beautiful.”

Katara blushed, eyes wide. Her eyelids were painted with a delicate blue, accenting the colour of her eyes, and her robes. They had dressed her in Water Tribe colours, but in the finest Fire Nation silks. Her carved stone necklace was displayed proudly, it’s simple pattern mirrored on each of her shoulders in the rolling wave patterns of her robe. The scar on her neck was not hidden, and Zuko knew that was no accident. It didn’t detract from her beauty, in fact it made her look strong, fearless.

“You look like a king.” She said softly, smiling.

Zuko laughed. “Well, my queen,” he extended a hand to her, “shall we?”

Katara gave him a look but couldn’t hide the smile as she took his hand. They walked to the curtain and Zuko pulled it aside, letting the light from the midday sun spill into the room. The cheering that had been constant, but distant, for the last hour grew louder.

The brightness blinded him momentarily and Zuko had to blink furiously to clear his vision. Katara squeezed his hand and he smiled back at her before stepping into the light. They walked out onto the platform where Iroh and the other Grand Lotuses, three senior Fire Sages, and a handful of servants stood, waiting. They regarded the two of them with expectant looks, but all bowed their heads when the two of them walked to the prepared space at the edge of the platform.

Zuko gently lead Katara to the spot on his right, where she stood, hands folded gracefully in front of her. Zuko turned away with a final smile and took his own place, kneeling before the crowd, before his nation. One of the Fire Sages came to stand behind him.

“Today, as the Fire Nation begins a new era, the world enters a new era of peace.” His voice echoed out into the courtyard. “All hail Firelord Zuko!”

Zuko bowed his head as more cheers erupted and people in the crowd chanted his name in response. The Fire Sage slid something into his hair and Zuko closed his eyes. When he rose, he felt the added weight of the gleaming metal piece in his heart even more. Katara’s hand found his instantly, and Zuko’s fear melted away. Stepping forward, with Katara standing at his side, he looked out at his people.

“The hundred year war is now over,” Zuko swept his gaze over the blur of faces that stretched out as far as he could see, “thanks to our friends,” he turned and nodded at his uncle, dressed not in Fire Nation colours, but in the pure white of the White Lotus uniform, “and thanks to the Avatar.”

Zuko extended a hand to the centre of the courtyard, where a statue of Avatar Aang towered over the crowd. It had been erected shortly after the area had been repaired, one of Zuko’s first decrees when he had accepted his coronation. The crowd applauded, many whistling and cheering. Zuko glanced back at Katara, a smile on his face. He pulled her closer, guiding her forward, where she knelt, as he had, and received an identical headpiece from another sage. When she stood, Zuko turned back to the crowd.

“All hail queen Katara!” He called it out, louder than he had spoken before.

The Fire Nation erupted into cheers, taking up the chant. Katara turned a stunned expression on Zuko. He only beamed at her. He squeezed her hand and brought the back of it to his lips. Katara smiled when he kissed it and turned back to look at their people.

Suddenly, Zuko didn’t feel so terrified. He didn’t contemplate the uncertainty of the future, the weight of expectation or the rocky road that lay before him now as the leader of a nation. When he looked at Katara, all of that fear faded away. In that moment, Zuko knew how he would move forward, how they all would. One step at a time, one change after another, and never alone.

Zuko pulled Katara closer, heedless of the thousands of eyes that followed his every movement. When he kissed her, the sounds of the crowd seemed to disappear. The world around them disappeared. Zuko breathed in the jasmine and honeysuckle, savouring it as he did the warmth of Katara’s embrace. They would never have to hide again, never have to pretend away their feelings or keep those walls between one another. There were no walls at all, they were free, free to be no more than who they were, to build the world they wanted, and to choose their own fate.

Zuko had never felt like he belonged. He had always felt out of step, with his family, his duty… Nothing had ever felt as right as it did in that moment. They had been through so much pain, both of them, but he knew that Katara felt it as much as he did, that stubborn, determined spark that had grown since they’d first met. A dream, for a future they shared, in a world run not by fear, but hope and balance.

~

The End