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In retrospect, this has not been one of her better ideas.
Because while the scroll about combative human magic most definitely belongs to her, and she had every right to take it (back) from those thieving harpies, it was perhaps not the smartest plan to take it from them alone, without any sort of back-up.
Katara waves her hand in a sharp motion as she runs through the woods; the trees around her bend to her will, and ensnare several of the harpies that are chasing her, causing them to shriek angry curses at her. Three down.
Only sixty-something more to go.
She’s been fighting them ever since she left the human town, where the harpies’ nest is located. Normally, she’d be able to fight harpies off easily; but she’d somewhat underestimated the sheer size of the nest. She knows that she’s powerful, even by the standards of a young deity, but she’s got her limits.
She sends ten more flying through the trees, uses the life and spirit of the forest around her to pick them off one by one. But it’s not enough, and if she doesn’t think of something soon, she’s going to be overwhelmed.
She knows that she won’t die, obviously. But that doesn’t mean that she’s looking forward to being torn apart, either. She might not die, but it’ll still hurt, and healing isn’t an instantaneous process.
Of course, it’s at the exact moment that she’s contemplating trying to weave a giant net made from trees that she emerges from the trees, and into a wide-open clearing.
Just her luck.
Katara spins, wondering if she can maybe dart back to the relative safety of the woods before the harpies catch up; but it’s too late. Four of them appear and dive at her, forcing her further into the center of the clearing. She reaches out desperately; calls upon the wildflowers growing at her feet to grow and wrap around the winged wretches’ bodies, ensnaring them; but more just come out from the trees and shriek as they circle her from above.
She casts a frantic look at the clouds, hoping that maybe Aang will be passing overhead and can help her, or that Sokka will look down from his workshop and see her plight, but her best friend and brother are nowhere to be seen.
She grits her teeth, and stretches her arms out determinedly. She’s not going to go down without a fight; she is Katara, a life deity, and daughter to one of the oldest gods in the heavens. She is powerful, and she is strong, and she will not surrender.
She looks to the life growing all around her; calls to the grass and the wildflowers and makes them grow, gives them strength, and uses them to trap her enemies. If she could reach the trees, they would be much stronger weapons; but the flock of harpies has driven her into the center of the clearing, and besides which, manipulating trees is admittedly more tiring.
One of the creatures manages to get in close, almost snatches her mother’s amulet from where it rests around her neck; but she takes hold of the life-force within the creature, and pulls.
It goes flying to the earth, and collapses in an unconscious heap.
But, manipulating the life of a creature that moves, thinks, and feels in the way that a plant cannot is costly, and draining. Her vision blurs slightly, and she feels herself go down on one knee- no, it cannot end like this-
In the next instant, there’s a horrible groaning sound, as the ground beneath her feet splits open into a dark cavern.
She loses her balance in the ensuing landslide; around her, the harpies scream as rubble flies up from the hole. Katara tries to build a rope, a ladder, something; but all the plants around her are caught up in the rocks.
Suddenly, there comes a thudding sound, like that of a thousand mighty horses, from the depths of the cavern. She holds out an arm to defend herself; but her vision is still blurry, and she’s feeling faint now; tired from all the running, and fighting.
So, she’s unable to protest as she’s swept up into the embrace of something warm, and solid; as she feels herself being carried away to gods-only-know-where.
(Well, no. She’s a god and she has no idea where she’s going.)
The last thing that she registers is the sound of a low, raspy voice, coming quietly in her ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll save you from the harpies.”
Katara blacks out.
______________________________
Zuko stares down at the unconscious goddess on his bed, and wishes for the thousandth time that Uncle were still here.
Uncle would know what to do. Uncle would probably have woken the girl up by now, and asked for her name, and started waxing poetic to her about the beauty of the Underworld, and she’d be charmed within ten seconds of talking to the old kook.
But Uncle isn’t here, because Father trapped Uncle in Tartarus so that he could take over the Underworld, and Zuko’s all alone, these days.
(Because Azula doesn’t really count as good company, and neither do Mai or Ty Lee.
And, talking to the dead gets rather… monotonous. It’s not as though they talk back to him.)
He hadn’t even meant to save her, not really. Because he can’t go up to the world above, not very often at least. He’s not like Azula or Father or Uncle. He’s a death god, sure, but unlike them, he’s tied to the energy of this place; not able to venture outside for long periods of time without being forcefully dragged back.
Father always says that it makes him weak; Uncle always said that it means that he has a stronger connection to the power of the Underworld than the rest of them. Zuko doesn’t really know what it makes him, but either way, he is trapped here most of the time.
So, he hasn't been to the surface in years; what's the point, when he will only get dragged back?
But he’d heard the commotion, far above. He’d opened a chasm just to see what was going on; it hadn’t sounded like any noises that the humans usually made. And he’d seen her, fighting for her life against a flock of harpies.
He couldn’t just leave her, could he?
So, he’d acted impulsively (as usual, Uncle would say), taken the goddess, and fled.
And now, she’s lying on his bed, unconscious; he has no idea what to do, and this is quite possibly the most awkward situation that he’s ever been in over the course of his entire immortal life.
It doesn’t help that his poor, overworked brain can’t help but notice that the goddess is gorgeous. Smooth, nut-brown skin. Waves of dark chocolate hair, that frame her face and accentuate the full pout of pink lips. Her eyes are closed now, but he’d caught the faintest glimpse earlier of beautiful ocean blue.
Plus, he can feel her godly aura; cool, inviting, and utterly enchanting. She feels like a life goddess, but he’s not sure which one. Whoever she is, she’s powerful.
He’s aware that it’s probably good etiquette to wake her up, and try to offer her something to eat or drink, but he knows that he can’t do that. She is not one of the death gods, after all, and all that he has to offer is the food of the Underworld.
Fortunately (or unfortunately, he’s not sure), the decision of waking her up is taken out of his hands when in the next instant, the goddess shoots up, eyes open wide and arms in a defensive position.
For a moment, Zuko’s entranced; trapped by a sea of blue.
In the next instant, he’s dodging a blow as the girl jumps off the bed and tries to punch him square in the jaw.
“Hey!” He glares at her irritably; who on earth just attacks someone like that? The goddess ignores his shout, and tries to hit him again; he grabs her wrists, and tries to force her to hold still. “Calm down!”
“I will not!” She doesn’t stop struggling in his grip; it’s all that he can do to avoid the kicks that she’s also now trying to throw at him. He’s half-tempted to just try and pin her to the ground, but he gets the strong feeling that it wouldn’t help. The goddess glares angrily. “You- you kidnapper!”
“I didn’t kidnap you!” He’s really feeling the ridiculousness of the situation, now.
“Oh yeah?” She stops trying to kick him, but the glare is still in full force. “Then why the hell am I in a strange bed, in a strange place, with a strange god staring at me when I’m pretty sure the last thing I was doing was trying to fight a flock of harpies!?”
And that’s… a good point.
Zuko sighs and releases her, but keeps his arms up in case she decides to attack again. But the goddess only takes a step back, crosses her arms, and raises a wary eyebrow. “I didn’t kidnap you. I saw you fighting them and you looked like you were in trouble, that’s all. So, I brought you down here because they wouldn’t be able to follow us here.”
“And where is here, exactly?”
He rubs the back of his neck, and tries not to look as though he’s grimacing. “The Underworld.”
If anything, her glare only worsens, though he can see the tell-tale signs of nervousness in her demeanor that most of the other gods who aren’t from this place all have. She starts to chew her lip, eyes darting around the room as she takes in the fact that she’s in an enormous underground cavern. “Well- take me back, right now!”
Zuko rolls his eyes, but gestures for her to follow him. She does so, but with obvious hesitation and wariness; following him through the dark, cavernous tunnels that are lit only by the glow of precious gems and unnaturally blue divine-fire torches.
For as much as he’s stuck here, Zuko knows that the Underworld has its own strange sort of beauty, unlike anything the above world could ever produce. But the goddess next to him clearly doesn’t see it; her eyes keep darting between him and the tunnels up ahead, and they’re filled with mistrust.
Oh, well. It’s not as though he saved her so that he could have a friend, or anything; in fact, the sooner that she gets out of here, the better. Something, someone, so full of life, of power and wonder, shouldn’t be trapped down here.
Which isn’t to say that the Underworld has none of that; but Zuko knows that it’s different, in this place.
She’s clearly not happy about the fact that she must get in a tiny boat with him and Jee, the ferryman, for the ride across the great river that spans the entrance to the Underworld, but it’s the only way in or out, aside from the deep pit in the center of this place that leads to Tartarus. And while he could technically have opened another chasm to the above world, doing so is draining, and he’s not in the mood.
(The one good thing about all of this is that Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee are currently in the mortal world, probably terrorizing innocents, and his father rarely leaves his throne room. They won’t run into anyone on the way, and Jee never speaks and so won’t tell a soul; he doesn’t particularly want to explain why he’d bothered to save the goddess.
They wouldn’t understand, after all.)
When they finally reach the entrance, he gestures upwards, as the tunnel becomes distinctly lighter up ahead. “Here you go. Oh, and this- here.”
He pulls out the scroll that he’d found the girl clutching when he’d taken her. For the first time since she’s been down here, her eyes light up and she snatches it eagerly. Zuko watches as she clutches it to her chest, and begins walking towards the light, without so much as a backwards glance.
Zuko rolls his eyes again, and turns to head back into the darkness.
At least it’s over now, he thinks.
______________________________
“You realize that you could have been ripped apart!” Sokka doesn’t even take a pause to breathe as he continues his rant. “Honestly, Katara, what were you thinking?!”
She rolls her eyes. “Calm down, Sokka. I’m fine, aren’t I?”
Because she is, really. She’s got her scroll, she’s still very much in one piece, and she’s completely, totally, fine.
Except that she’s also beginning to feel strangely guilty.
Her brother doesn’t seem to notice, or care, about her thoughts, though. “No, you got lucky. What kind of idiot tries to take on a nest of over eighty harpies?”
“Sokka, she’s fine.” Aang interrupts from where he’s watching the two of them go back and forth. The young messenger god looks up at her with wide, pleading gray eyes. “But you won’t do it again, right?”
Katara rolls her eyes and stomps out of her brother’s workshop, ignoring the cries of protest from behind her. Her brother may be a genius god of creativity, but he’s also an overprotective idiot. As she leaves, Toph lets out a cheeky wolf-whistle. “Yeah, you tell them, Sugar Queen!”
…One of these days, she’ll have a good comeback for Toph, blind Oracle of the Gods or not.
Maybe telling her brother and friends about what happened to her wasn’t the smartest plan, but she didn’t want to keep it from them. They’d have wondered where she was eventually, anyways. But, she hasn’t told them about what happened after the harpies; had made up a story about escaping them on her own.
She’s not sure what to think about what happened, afterwards.
Because she’d woken up somewhere unfamiliar, with a strange god standing over her. And of course, she’d freaked out, been upset, who wouldn’t be? And then, of all places, she’d found out that she was in the Underworld. Katara’s heard all the stories of the Underworld. It’s a place for the dead, a place of darkness and no light.
It’s not a place for a goddess like her; one of the life deities, who safeguards the natural world around her.
So of course, she’d been in a hurry to get out of there. But now, she’s thinking, that she might have been in too much of a hurry.
Because… the other god had saved her, hadn’t he? He’d helped her get away from the harpies, taken her somewhere safe. And he hadn’t hurt her, hadn’t tried to steal her scroll, hadn’t tried to keep her someplace that she didn’t want to be.
And she didn’t even thank him.
Katara chews her lip as she walks the heavenly pathways, far above the human world. Technically speaking, that entire ordeal is over with, now. It’s been almost two days since then. There’s absolutely no reason for her to go back there.
Except… she really should thank him, shouldn’t she?
Besides, she can’t deny that she’s a bit curious about the god himself. He obviously had to be one of the gods of death, living in the Underworld, but which one? She’s sure that he’s not Ozai; there have been murmurings, throughout the heavens recently, about the shady dealings of the ruler of the Underworld. Rumors that he usurped the throne, baseless whispers of plots to take over the world.
The god she met certainly didn’t seem like a creepy, suspicious, possible-psychopath.
Aside from Ozai, though, she’s not sure who he could be; Katara must admit, that she’s not as well educated about the gods who live below the human world as she perhaps should be. It’s not as though many of them often interact with the gods above, or the mortals even; their realm is the realm of the dead, and their dominion is the dark.
Still, no time like the present to fix that. She wants to know more.
Especially, since he was nothing like what she’d expect from a god of the dead. Burning golden eyes, pale skin, with a red scar stretching over the left eye, and far more beautiful than any deity who resides in the shadows has any right to be.
It doesn’t take her long to make her way back to the mortal world; back to the place where the entrance to the Underworld lies. It’s a dark cave (because of course it is), leading down deep into the earth, and all the greenery that surrounds it is shriveled up and dead. Normally, the only people who pass this gateway are the spirits of mortals; but as a goddess, Katara has free reign to come and go as she pleases.
She descends into the darkness, clenching her fists against the aura of death that permeates the very air of this place. The further that she goes, the darker it gets; soon, the only light is coming from the fiery torches on the walls around her, glowing in shades of blue.
But that light is reflected by precious gems, stones inlaid throughout the rock, causing all the tunnels to glitter and shine. It’s…strangely beautiful.
When she reaches the cavern with the expansive underground river, she hesitates. When she was here last, the god had taken her across in a boat, with a ferryman. But… she sees the ferryman and his boat already in the middle of the river, and she’s not quite sure how to cross, on her own.
She’s mulling over the problem, debating if she should try to call out to the ferryman, when she hears a rush of air; instantly she lifts her head to face the sound.
Katara’s met with the sight of three goddesses descending towards her from above the river.
The one on the left is dressed in all-black robes, with straight black hair and an expressionless face. The girl on the right is dressed in pink robes, with brown hair pulled into a high braid and a cheerful smile on her face that doesn’t quite match the air of the place around her. And the one in the middle is dressed in red; blood red robes, with a sharp grin and dark eyes. All three have bat-like, leathery wings.
Wings. She doesn’t know a lot about Underworld gods, but everyone knows that there are only three deities in the Underworld with wings-
“What do we have here?” The Fury in the middle cocks her head at Katara as the three of them land in front of her. “A lost little life goddess, it seems. What are you doing here?”
She clears her throat; while she might have free reign to come and go, she is technically still here without an invitation, and her gut is telling her that she should tread carefully. The Furies are the heralds of the Underworld, after all; the ones who do come up to the human world, supposedly to warn and take revenge upon evil mortals. “My name is Katara. I’m looking for someone.”
The goddess merely raises a pointed eyebrow, and inspects her (equally pointed) red fingernails. “Do go on.”
She swallows. “He- helped me the other day, and I just want to say thank you.” She’s only now realizing that she doesn’t even know the god’s name. “Umm, he’s a god, he’s got golden eyes, and a scar, and-”
“Oh, you mean Zuko.” The girl’s burnished-copper eyes stare into hers, and she resists the urge to flinch back. “What has that dummy been up to now, I wonder?” Before Katara can say anything else, the girl’s grin widens. “We’ll take you to him.”
“Oh- thank you-” The goddess nods, and the other two goddesses take up positions on either side of her, grabbing her arms. She doesn’t get a chance to protest before she’s suddenly airborne, being held between two Furies while the third one flies ahead of them, as they cross the river and move further into the depths of the Underworld.
What has she gotten herself into?
______________________________
It’s the moments like this that make Zuko feel more like himself than anything else down here.
There’s nothing else but him and his swords. Nothing but the pulling and tensing of his muscles as he moves through forms, through parries and thrusts and lunges. Sometimes he raises the skeletons of mortal warriors who have recently passed on, just so that he can have something to spar with; but right now, it’s just him, alone in his training cavern.
Him and his swords, which are an extension of himself. Made from the finest obsidian in the Underworld, stronger than the sharpest steel; they were a gift from Uncle, before… well.
He moves through the final form and stops, breathing heavily. He thinks that he’ll maybe take a short break, before-
“Oh, Zu-zu.” His sister’s sharp voice cuts through his reverie and he tenses immediately, turning to face the mouth of the cavern. “You’ve got a visitor.”
He opens his mouth, confused, but immediately snaps it shut as he sees Mai and Ty Lee enter behind Azula, carrying the blue-eyed goddess he’d helped the other day between them.
He- what?
His confusion must show on his face, because his sister’s smile widens in a way that only means trouble. “You didn’t tell us you had a friend, Zuko.”
He can’t bring himself to form coherent sentences, mouth open again in a gape; but he knows that he’s got to say something soon. There’s no doubt in his mind that Azula will try and use whatever-this-is against him; maybe she’ll tell Father, who surely won’t be pleased, or-
Fortunately (or unfortunately, he doesn’t know), the life goddess speaks first. “Oh um, we’re not friends. I just wanted to speak to him, that’s all.”
Zuko’s not sure why his stomach feels heavy upon hearing that they aren’t friends. Because she’s right, after all; for crying out loud he doesn’t even know her name.
“Hmm, very well then. We’ll leave you two alone.” Azula turns away, still smirking, but gives him one final glance. “I’m sure Father will be most interested to hear this, Zuko.”
With a soft, bone-chilling laugh, his sister and her companions are gone.
Now that it’s just him and the life goddess, Zuko feels his nerves start to spike, and he knows that he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it; he rounds on her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
A single eyebrow raises, and the goddess crosses her arms. “Excuse me?”
“You- augh!” He resists the urge to tear his hair out. “You shouldn’t have come back.”
Her expression only gets haughtier. “Well, excuse you. I only came back to tell you thank you, but since I’m so unwelcome, I’ll just-”
“Wait.” He grits his teeth, feeling the rush of shame coursing through him. If Uncle were here, he knows that he’d be disappointed. At the end of the day, he’s being rude to a young lady, and he can practically feel the old man’s disapproving face. “I’m- sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to come back, that’s all.”
It’s a weak excuse, and they both know it. He’s expecting another round of yelling, but to his surprise, the goddess’ tense shoulders slump. She scuffs a foot on the floor, looking strangely sheepish. “I’m sorry too. For the other day, I mean. You helped me, and I didn’t even thank you. So, thank you, and my name’s Katara, by the way.”
Her blue eyes fixate on him, and Zuko’s suddenly finding it very hard to breathe.
Oh, gods.
______________________________
Katara makes sure to keep her eyes focused firmly on Zuko’s nose.
Because now that he’s no longer upset with her, and the suffocating presence of the three Furies is gone, she’s finding it very difficult not to let her eyes wander. He’s stripped down to nothing but a loincloth, and no, she cannot stare at his firm, toned chest, or his shapely calves, or his-
Certainly, not his golden eyes, which are almost more of a hazard than his body.
It doesn’t help that he’s holding two swords in a manner that suggests he’s highly competent at using them, and she’s suddenly feeling a bit faint.
Is it hot in here?
Fortunately (or unfortunately, she’s really not sure), Zuko seems to realize his state of undress just as the silence after she says her name drags on for just a little too long. His cheeks blush a bright, rosy red, and he hastens to one of the cavern walls, pulling on the robe that’s been lying there and placing the swords in a scabbard resting against the wall.
He coughs into his arm. “Katara? That’s a pretty name. Um- yeah, it was no problem.”
“Right…” she tries not to fidget. She hadn’t really thought too far beyond find him and say thank you, but at the same time, she’s still curious to learn more about him. Except, she’s beginning to realize that she probably should have come up with some sort of plan.
She casts around desperately, and fixates on nothing but gem-inlaid, sparkling walls. Zuko clearly notices her eyes wandering, and his own face softens out of its tense, clearly nervous state. “Do you, um, do you like them?”
She doesn’t mean to, but she finds herself nodding. She hadn’t noticed it properly, her first time through here the other day (she’d been too angry, and scared), but she really does like it. She’s never seen anything like it, before. “I do. It’s prettier than I thought it would be.”
He huffs and gives her a nervous smile, before scratching the back of his neck as he clearly debates on something. Eventually, he clears his throat. “I could, um, show you around a bit? If you’d like to see more of it, that is?”
Her eyes widen, and she takes in his stance, which has become decidedly fidgety. He’s chewing his lip, pinching his brow, and alternating between staring at her and the walls around them. He doesn’t look as though he’s got any nefarious intentions, at all, and it’s, dare she say, almost adorable.
So, she smiles at him. “I’d love that.”
______________________________
Zuko is quite sure that this is one of the stupidest things he’s ever done.
Because Father is sure to find out now, and while he knows that Father can’t technically do anything to this lovely young goddess, not without invoking the wrath of other gods, he still shouldn’t… expose her to the ruler of the dead.
Ozai is an acquired taste, after all. One that he’s still not sure he’s adjusted to, even after centuries of living with the man.
Unnatural flames on pale skin burning pain agony no Father please I am your loyal son-
But he can’t bring himself to stop, as he leads Katara out of his training caverns and deeper into the reaches of the Underworld. Next to him, she’s walking quietly, blue eyes taking in all her surroundings with a quiet awe that he’d never have expected from someone who’s not a death god, not when it comes to this place.
He thinks that he should probably say something, explain about where they’re even going, but the silence isn’t awkward, strangely enough, and he’s hesitant to break it.
He’s not used to having company; he never has it, really. But this is… pleasant, and he doesn’t remember the last time that he enjoyed himself this much.
It’s dangerous, getting so quickly attached like this. But… he doesn’t want it to stop.
He takes her to the great river at the entrance to the Underworld, that also borders and encircles the underground lands. She appears almost ethereal in the glow of the lanterns reflecting off the deep blue water, and he almost trips over his own feet.
Jee raises a silent, clearly judgmental eyebrow at Zuko as they walk by, and he resists the urge to groan aloud.
He shows her most of the caverns, marveling in the glow of her eyes as they’re surrounded by twinkling gem-light, though he avoids the pit that leads to Tartarus, and the entrance to his father’s chambers and the throne room. She exclaims at everything she sees; he finds that he enjoys answering her questions about the gems and precious metals that make up the walls, and the history of this place.
But, he doesn’t want to keep her too long; he’s sure that, for all that they’re immortal and have all the time in the world, there will surely be other gods looking for her if she stays. And while Katara herself doesn’t appear too concerned with this, he doesn’t want to take any chances.
So, for the last stop, he takes her to the Spirit Fields.
Her eyes widen and her mouth drops into an adorable ‘o’, and Zuko can’t help but feel a bit pleased with himself.
Because this, truly, is one of the most beautiful places in the Underworld.
The Spirit Fields are the most expansive cavern down here, taking up over half the space in the Underworld. The walls and ceiling are gem-encrusted and lined with blue divine-fire torches, much like all the other caverns down here; but it’s set apart by two very special things.
The first are the souls. Too many of them to count, they appear as softly glowing balls of light that float throughout the space; mortals living out their afterlives in their own personal bubble of whatever it is that his father deems they deserve. Some are in paradise; others are in torment.
And the second thing, are the night-lilies.
The Spirit Fields are the only place in the Underworld that have life growing within them. Aside from the fruit trees that provide them with food (which line the walls of the Spirit Fields), night-lilies are the only things that can survive, this far below the surface of the mortal world. They cover the ground of the cavern; dark blue flowers, with pale streaks of white lining their petals, and deep green leaves.
The combined effect of the glittering walls, gently glowing souls, and seemingly-endless flowers is…something beyond the divine. Zuko’s never quite found the words to describe it.
Next to him, Katara is gaping, and he’s struck with the sudden thought that she’s just as beautiful as this place.
He’s in trouble, isn’t he?
______________________________
She’s never seen anything like this.
Katara’s seen some of the most wondrous places in the mortal world and the heavens, throughout her centuries of life, and she’s never been to any place that looked like this.
Next to her, Zuko’s got a soft smile on his face as he, too, takes in the absolute majesty in front of them.
He’s almost glowing himself, surrounded as he is by all this light. And suddenly, she’s struck with a wave of fondness for this god she barely knows, this gentle god who helped her when she needed it and has shown her so much today.
Because Katara is a life goddess; and while it may not be traditional, she can recognize that what she’d first taken to be an aura of death, of gloom, is simply another form of life, down here.
After all; Life and Death are merely two sides of the same coin.
She’s disappointed when she realizes that they must leave; when she realizes that Zuko’s taking her back towards the entrance where the silent ferryman waits next to the great river. She finds that she doesn’t want to go, though she realizes that she likely must. Time has flown, and she’s been down here for hours, probably. Her brother and friends will be wondering where she is.
They probably wouldn’t understand the beauty of this place, if she tried to tell them; Toph, for certain, would likely spout a snarky comment about her blindness. Her father, similarly, would not understand; he has never held the Underworld in much regard. She wishes, though, that she could show her mother, everything that she’s seen. Kya would love this place too, she knows. But her mother was a water nymph, and well…
Nymphs are longer-lived than humans, but they’re not immortal; and they, too, can die of old age.
She touches her mother’s amulet; breathes in to center the feeling of loss, and steps out of the boat, onto the other side of the river where the tunnel that leads to the outside world lies.
She turns to Zuko, needing to find some way of expressing her gratefulness for this experience; while also wondering if it would be rude for her to ask if she can come back.
Because she wants to, she’s realizing; she wants to come back, as an invited guest this time.
But Zuko beats her to it; he’s rubbing the back of his neck again, and looking anywhere but her. It’s rather endearing. His voice is low as he speaks, and hesitant. “Katara… would you like to come back, sometime?”
She opens her mouth to give him an enthusiastic yes, but he keeps talking. “Because, um, it was nice to have the company, and I liked having you here. Thank you, for being here. And I’d, um, like it if you came back to visit. Me. Sometimes. If you want!”
He’s blushing a brilliant shade of red against pale cheeks, though it blends in with the red scar on the left one. She wonders how he got it, as there are very few things that can seriously injure a god, but it isn’t her place to ask. So, instead, she gives him a smile. “Yes, please. I want to come back. Because…thank you for this, Zuko. Really.”
He returns her smile, and she’s suddenly held captive by brilliantly golden eyes. “You’re welcome, Katara.”
She feels her cheeks heat, as she turns to walk away, back through the tunnel up to the above world.
Maybe it’s her imagination, but she thinks she hears a quiet, raspy voice saying to come back soon.
Imagination or not, she plans on doing just that.
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Against all the odds, she does come back.
Time and time again, the beautiful life goddess comes back to visit him; and somewhere along the way, she becomes his best friend.
They do the most mundane of things, which mean everything to him. He tells her stories of the Underworld; she tells him tales of the world above. They talk about themselves; he learns so much, about her.
Zuko knows, now, what she looks like when she’s flushed with concentration, as they spar together in his training caverns. He knows what she looks like when she’s surrounded by floating souls and endless night-lilies, as they spend time in the Spirit Fields. He knows how she laughs when she’s so happy that she can’t do anything else, how she cries when she’s sad, how she looks when she’s furious and screaming at him.
He treasures all of it, even her anger.
And thanks to her, he’s spent more time above ground in the past year than he has in centuries.
He’d forgotten, what it was like to feel the sun on his face. To see the stars; to bask in the spray of rushing water as they dive off waterfalls and race each other through the seas.
He’d forgotten, that just because he can’t leave the Underworld permanently, doesn’t mean that he should never leave at all.
He’s met other gods, too. Her brother, the clever craftsman Sokka and his Amazon-warrior girlfriend Suki. Her best friend, the messenger god Aang, who cheerfully asks him questions about the Underworld. Her adopted sister, the blind Oracle Toph, who’s snarky and witty and is becoming like his own sister, too.
He learns what it is to have a family again; another thing that he’d forgotten.
She listens to him, when he works up the courage to tell her the painful stories of his own life family that he’s never told anyone; and he’s grateful for it, more than words can express.
The story of how his mother was cursed and sent away, never able to return, all because she saved him when his father tried to cast him into Tartarus alongside his uncle.
The story of a young god, whose only friends were skeletons and spirits, that couldn’t talk back. A young god who’d learned of his father’s plot to expand the size of his kingdom with mass genocide and striking fear into the hearts of mortals.
(A young god who’d spoken up against such a plot, thinking that his father would be proud of him for pointing out that they were supposed to protect mortals, and watch over them even in death.
And as a result; his father had shoved a torch of divine-fire into the side of his face, and told him that he needed to learn respect.)
And somehow, she stays, and she listens. And he listens to her, too, when she tells him the story of how she lost her own mother, of how she learned to grow up fast and protect the lives of the people that she had left.
He’s not sure where, along the way, he starts to fall in love with her; but he does.
(There’s a part of him that slowly realizes that she maybe falls in love with him too, and it makes his heart soar.)
And she’s with him, a year after they first meet, when his father enacts yet another plot, to take over the world; when his sister stands in front of him with not-quite-right eyes and asks him, which side will you choose, Zu-zu?
Katara stands with him when he faces his father; when with the help his newfound family, they engage in battle and he strips the man of his godly powers, and casts him down into Tartarus, with tears streaming down his face.
(He doesn’t cast his sister or her companions down, though, because for all that Azula is not good, she’s still his little sister, and he remembers the days before Ozai sunk his claws into her, before she was a monster.
And he thinks, that with time and a lot of patience, she can become someone new, someone who no longer sees the world through brittle-sharp eyes.)
And somehow, amidst all of that, during the battle Uncle manages to claw his way back up from Tartarus, and well-
He’s never seen the old man smile quite as wide as he does when he finally gets to introduce Katara to Uncle, and Zuko just knows that he was blushing horribly; but he doesn’t mind, not really.
Because now, a year after he'd first opened that fateful chasm, he has his Uncle back, and a new family, and a goddess that he’s madly in love with (though he hasn’t told her that, yet, be quiet Uncle, he’s figuring it out), and somehow he's become the new lord of the dead, and-
It’s good. In the end, it’s good.
And though he’d forgotten what it felt like; in the end, Zuko knows that he’s happy, too.
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It’s two days after Zuko’s ascent to the throne of the Underworld that Katara finally manages to get a moment alone with him.
She hasn’t left his side since the great (horrid) battle with Ozai; but they’ve not been alone. Her brother, Toph, Aang, and Suki have all been here, helping Zuko adjust to his new position; she’s met Zuko’s Uncle Iroh, and in general, they’ve just been very busy.
But two days later, and now it’s just them.
She has something to say to him; something that she’s been thinking of for some time, now, that she thinks she's ready to put into words (because she could have lost him, in the battle, and she doesn't want to wait). So, she leads him to the Spirit Fields, because over the last year, it’s become their place.
(And; it has something that she needs.)
Zuko looks mildly curious as she directs him into the night-lily fields; but as she walks to the edge and plucks one of the moon-peaches off the fruit trees, his expression turns panicked. “Katara, what are you-”
“It’s okay, Zuko.” She walks back over to him, where he’s lit up amidst the backdrop of floating spirits and gently glittering walls. “I’ve… been thinking.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “About?”
She looks down at the moon-peach in her hand, and thinks back to a conversation they’ve had in the past year, about the nature of this fruit, of all the food in the Underworld. “About us.”
Now, he’s beginning to look distinctly nervous. “Oh?”
“Yes.” She shifts the moon-peach in her hand, before stepping towards him, slowly. Closer, little by little, until she’s right in front of him, and she can feel his breath against her cheek.
His voice is low. “Katara.”
“You feel it.” She meets golden eyes, unflinchingly. “I know you do.”
“Of course, I do.” Somehow, his voice drops impossibly lower. “But I won’t ask anything of you that you’re not willing to give. You’re Life, Katara, and I’m Death. You know that-”
“But I am willing.” She holds up the fruit in between them.
“You know that’s not necessary.” He’s eyeing the fruit as though it’s a deadly weapon, and she’s almost tempted to laugh. “You can come visit me whenever you like, and we can be…”
“We can be what, Zuko?”
He exhales, and presses his forehead against hers. “I love you. We can be together without the damn fruit. You don’t need to tie yourself to this place, Katara.”
She moves even closer, and looks him in the eye. “But this place is a part of you. And I want it. I want to be here, with you. And if you’re worried about my status as a life goddess…” she shrugs. “It’s not any more permanent for me than it is for you. You can leave this place, and so can I. We’ll just always come back eventually, that’s all.”
He gives her a long look, before a gentle smile steals over his lips, and his hand moves up to cup her cheek. She leans into it, leans into the warmth of his palm, before kissing him.
Eventually, she pulls back, needing air; and across from her, his face is flushed and he’s grinning wider than she’s ever seen.
She smiles back, and presses the moon-peach to her lips.
The fruit of death is sweet and tangy, and she knows that it's the promise of an immortal lifetime.