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Chapter Text

The first time it happens is unintentional. Heck, she didn’t even realize it was happening until it had already happened.

She’s perched on top of Appa’s head, gripping the reins so tightly that her hands turn white. She doesn’t register the rain pouring down in thick sheets. She refuses to register anything, eyes looking straight ahead in a cold emotionless stare.

Then there’s warmth to her left, and a raspy voice, soft in spite of the raging storm around them.

“Katara, we should stop.”

“Zuko, I’m fine.” Her voice contains no malice, nor anger, but without any emotion embedded, it has a cold edge to it. She refuses to look at him, to see the concern she knows will lie in his golden eyes.

“Katara, we still have hours of flying left before we get there. Appa’s been flying practically non-stop for the past two days. We should at least let him regain his strength for the night.” The excuse is flimsy. She knows it. He knows it. But then she looks at his face, temporarily illuminated by a sharp burst of lightning, his soft eyes pleading with her, then turning down to his lap in defeat.

She faces forward again. “Fine.”

They stop on a small island, and nestle into a large cave. It’s now raining so hard that Appa’s fear of the underground has gone out the window in favor of the cave’s protection from the storm. Growling he steps into the cave. Katara is vaguely aware of Zuko jumping off of him and landing on the stone floor with a thud. She keeps looking forward.

“K-Katara? Are you okay?” I’d bet Sokka’s boomerang that his hand is on the back of his neck right now. She apparently knows his nervous ticks. He inhales deeply to try again. “How are you feeling?”

How is she feeling? Angry, she thinks for a moment, but that’s not right. She’s been angry for weeks, hell, she’s been angry for years. But she’s so, so tired of being angry, of carrying this rage simmering just below the surface for the past six years. It’s not gone per say; she still hates Yon Rha with every fiber of her being, even more so now that she’s seen the empty shell of a human being her mother’s murder is.

But it can no longer drive her. She spent the past two days finally letting it take the reins, and the destination wasn’t somewhere she could even really go. The remaining simmer of hate, the shard that will never truly leave tells her that it was out of weakness, that she should have done it.

That she disrespected her mother’s memory by not finishing the job.

“Katara?” She’s sitting sideways on Appa now, ready to jump or slide off at a moment’s notice, but still frozen in time.

The bulk of the anger is gone. But it feels less like a hole and more like an open wound, and without the fiery bandage, all she can do to keep her emotions from seeping out is to use her face as a shield.

“Shit, I-I’m so sorry Katara.” She glances down at Zuko, who’s pacing now, running his hand through his hair, pulling at it in self-loathing. Two days earlier, she would’ve fully endorsed his shame and self-deprecation, but it no longer feels right. “I don’t know how I could’ve thought this was a good idea, I just wanted you to forgive me, but I was selfish. Agni, I’m so stupid, why did I think this would help–“

Even with her insides a raging sea, she’s still Katara. She’s still the girl who takes it upon herself to look out for anyone and everyone around her. She’s still the girl who was ready to leave her tribe for a child she’d met a few days prior. She’s still the girl who offered to heal an old man whose nephew had been nothing but trouble for her.

She’s still the girl who reached out for a boy who chased her halfway around the world after he expressed a single insecurity.

And that girl cannot watch that same boy, who’s done nothing but try to help their cause and redeem himself in her eyes for the past few weeks, beat himself up over a years-old trauma of hers that he’s pinned to himself. That she pinned to him.

She makes eye contact, and begins to talk, tries to tell him that it’s not his fault, that the situation with her mother has never been his fault, and that it was unfair of her to blame him, but the droplet of empathy and guilt that she’s trying to breaks through her defenses and leaves them weaker.

And the dam breaks.

She chokes on a sob, leaning forward and half sliding, half falling off of Appa. As the ground nears, she doesn’t have it in her to care, but Zuko apparently does, and he catches her, letting her collapse into his arms. She doesn’t notice Appa curling up beside them. Her entire world consists of herself, her ugly, horrifying sobs (that, in any other circumstance would embarrass her), the arms around her with hands attached to them, rubbing soothing circles into her back, and the person whom she is leaning against, crying into, and gripping as though he might disappear at any moment.

She’s just so exhausted, both from the emotional stress of these past days, and the fact that she hasn’t slept at all since the night Zuko stayed up outside her tent. Now, they’re both laying on Appa’s tail, and she’s still shaking with sobs, wretchedly hiccupping air into her lungs through great gulps.

She feels Zuko tense up for a moment. Great, now I’ve pushed him away. Nice going Katara. Way to emote your way out of– whatever this is. Before she has the chance to process that thought, he’s squeezing her tighter, a silent encouragement to let it all out.

Somehow, this wordless message of support makes it all so much worse, because she hasn’t felt so truly supported since– well, it’s been awhile, and now she’s hyperventilating and spirits, Katara, you couldn’t just not mess up this one nice thing. This entire trip has been solely for your benefit, and now you’re making him hold you through a breakdown. You really are –

 “Shhhh.” Zuko’s speaking softly, one hand is still rubbing circles on her back, the other is combing through the ends of her hair. Katara’s breathing begins to even out. “You’re safe here. You’re protected. Nothing bad is going to happen right now.” He’s practically whispering, and with the soft, repetitive motions, and the things he’s saying – the honest things he’s saying, because she’s not okay right now, and he doesn’t know if it will all be okay, but he makes the momentary truths of the present as soothing as an eternal promise – bring her breathing back under control. She’s not done crying, but he just keeps on comforting her, surrounding her ears with the soft rasps of his voice, and the pitter-patter of the rain outside, blocking out her greatest critic: herself.

The next thing she’s aware of is that the rain has stopped. Its consistent pattering has been replaced by the rhythm of air flowing past her hair, fluttering a few pieces just enough for her perception. She seems to be engulfed in a cocoon of warmth, making up for the total lack of blankets over her. She’d been sleeping on something soft and fluffy.

The decision to open her eyes brings her thought process back to life. She’s on Appa’s tail, explaining the fluffiness of her mattress, but that’s not really a shock. What does surprise her is the source of– well, it’s the source of all the other things she’d noticed. His arms softly around her (and hers softly around him), Zuko is asleep. Her first instinct, surprisingly enough, is not one of panic.

Yes, she’s sleeping next to a firebender, who, up until yesterday, she’d distrusted with every fiber of her being. Or so she told herself. But even the her from a week ago would have a hard time feeling threatened by the sight before her. Being this close to him is like sheltering in an igloo by the fire during one of the South Pole’s many blizzards. His breath has the same comforting repetition that the circles on her back had had, and, without all his stresses weighing on him, he just looks so peaceful. He looks free, even with the red mark permanently plastered on his face.

Once she finishes, um, noting the benefits of her situation, the panic does set in, but not for the reason past-Katara would have believed. Comforting her was one thing, one thing she very much appreciated, but very different from their current situation. He’d probably considered it part of his duty as the one who brought her on this trip. But sleeping in each other’s arms was not part the deal, no matter how you went about it. She begins to extricate herself, a blush rising to her cheeks at the sheer awkwardness, moving just a few inches away from his body, when he whimpers a little bit. She feels his arms tighten around her waist, their once-lose hold, now bringing her flush against his chest– how did he get so strong– and tangling their legs, ever so slightly.

She subconsciously snuggles into him, wrapping her arms around him once more. He leans his head into her hair, and lets out a sigh, a slight smile gracing his previously blank features. This is bound to be awkward, she realizes, but she knows from her previous attempt that leaving would only wake him up before she was fully away. There’s no reason not to wait until morning.

Besides, her almost asleep brain tells her, this is really nice. 

Zuko grunts ever so quietly as he wakes. Being able to control your body heat and, in Uncle’s case, lukewarm tea, has its perks, but automatically waking up at the break of dawn, no matter what time you went to bed is just not one of them. Still, Zuko’s woken up more tired than this many times.

Actually, the last time he woke up this relaxed was... well, it wasn’t on his ship, and it wasn’t in the limbo between his mother leaving, and his banishment. It must’ve been... It’s been awhile to say the least. Perhaps it has to do with the weight across him, and the smell of rain flooding his senses.

His eyes snap open. It turns out that his best night of sleep will also be his last. Because Katara, the waterbender who threatened him back at the Western Air Temple, then did Agni knows what to the current leader of the Southern Raiders, will no doubt murder him when she discovers what has happened. She already doesn’t trust him, and it’s no secret to anyone that she’s a beautiful girl, and she might think he took advantage, and– agh!

He hopes she was okay with him comforting her last night. This entire trip had just been a disaster, and it had been selfish of him to try to get her to forgive him in such an exhausting, violent way, and that look on her face right before she fell into him just broke his heart. He’d needed to do something to make it up to her, to at least try to make the tragedy of a trip up to her, and... she would’ve pushed him away if he’d crossed a line, right?

He hopes so. He knows she may never trust him, but he hopes she knows that she could take him in a fight. If he’d managed to violate her in some way, he probably wouldn’t even fight back.

Still, he doesn’t want to be punished for something he didn’t do, or at least, hadn’t meant to do, so he pulls him arms off Katara’s waist– trying not to admire the look of bliss on her face and her hair sprawled beautifully in all directions– and slowly scooches a few inches away. He watches her frown. Then scoot closer to him, resuming her partial use of his chest as a pillow.

Okaayy, now it’s not entirely his fault, but he doesn’t want to be a source of embarrassment for her, and she might not believe him, and–

And Katara’s breathing has stilled (along with his own. Had he stopped breathing?). She snuggles into him, just for a moment, an involuntary action, and he watches her eyes open, her lashes parting like curtains to reveal an ocean view behind them. She blinks slowly once, then her eyes find his.

It’s not a bad sight for the last thing I’ll ever get to see.

To his utter shock, instead of murdering him on the spot, she gives him a small smile.

“Hi.” Her voice is low from sleep, and as she takes a moment to clear her throat, he’s fighting the urge to play with her hair, tucking the soft strands behind her ear. Instead he merely returns the smile, nerves of being viciously murdered replaced with another type of nerve.

He settles on wrapping his arms around her waist once more for a pseudo-hug, then pulls back for no reason other than to watch her groggily blink away her exhaustion.

“Good morning.”

Chapter Text

Ember Island is beautiful. It never fails to astonish Katara that the Fire Nation is surrounded by so much water, and not, in fact, the sweltering metallic wasteland she had always pictured.

Zuko dropped her off a few hours earlier, awkwardly giving her a tour of the house, and telling her to pick whichever room she wanted.

“Well, except this one.”

“Why not that one?” She smirked. She’d somehow managed to go from hating his guts to teasing him amicably over the course of just three days.

“Um… Because it was mine when I was five.” He slammed the door abruptly. She laughed so hard that her eyes almost squeezed fully shut. She was glad they hadn’t; she wouldn’t have missed Zuko’s embarrassed blush for the world. He covered his face and groaned. It was almost enough to make her forget what had led her to this point.

Almost. Once he left to find the others, she chose a room and unpacked. It was strange, having this much free time, but being a waterbender, she sought out the ocean. Flicking her feet lazily in the water, she finally gave herself the chance to think about Yon Rha. For one brief moment, it felt like the calm blue waves could wash away all her problems.

But that moment soon came to a close. Alone, in the suffocating red of her new bedroom, trapped in the darkness, the shadows creep back in.

She wakes up suddenly, knowing intuitively that it can’t have been more than an hour since she actually fell asleep. Breathing deeply – alternatively called trying to stop panting – she rolls to the other side of the bed, practically swimming in the endless sea of red sheets.

Placing her head on the cool pillow, she closes her eyes once more. But all she sees is the nightmare, the one she’d gotten every night when she was eight, and every now and again since then. She’s witnessing her mother’s death.

As time went on, it changed, just as she did. Sometimes she’s frozen in place, and watches Yon Rha commit the act. Other times, she sees her mother’s corpse in totally unrelated dreams.

Tonight, however, may be the worst yet.  She’s stuck in the igloo once more, watching in horror as Yon Rha lifts his arm to deliver the final blow. But then it changes direction, twisting at an unnatural angle. She feels his blood singing to her, begging her to use it for her own will. Power flows through her as Yugoda’s lessons in human anatomy ring in her ear.

She keeps his blood away from his heart, effectively ceasing all blood flow in his entire body. He’s desperately trying to inhale, but his blood cannot collect the oxygen it needs.

She’s suffocating him.

“No!” Katara’s mother is indignant. “Sweetie, don’t do this, this is horrible, I know he’s an awful person. But you cannot cause others pain just because they inflict it on you.” The words aren’t particularly meaningful. Sure, they hold truth, and do remind her of something her mother would say, but this very thought has already spent so much time in Katara’s internal monologue. She already knows the morals of the situation. It’s by no means a life altering, decision stopping statement.

What does get to her is the fear in her mother’s eyes. Fear directed not at Yon Rha, but at her.

Katara stops immediately. Falling against the wall, she releases Yon Rha. He pants for a few seconds, regaining his breath and his strength before offering Katara a smug, evil smirk.

“No!” Before Katara’s even had the chance to react, her mother is dead.

Burrowing deeper into the pillows, she tries to wish away the nightmares, tries to tell herself there’s nothing she could have done, and that everything will be okay. But she truly doesn’t know. Aang seemed so disappointed when she went on her vengeance crusade. She nearly scoffs aloud when she recalls his assumption that she’d forgiven Yon Rha. That she will never in her life do that is a certainty.

But there’s someone else she has forgiven. And he’s very warm, and far more cuddly than anyone would ever guess. And he made me feel safe. Somehow, he’d done what no one else had been able to in years: truly comfort her.

She flops to the other side of the bed once more. That would be ridiculous. She is not going to barge in on Zuko and demand that he hold her while she sleeps. It would be an invasion of privacy, and a level of intimacy she’s never experienced with anyone.

But it’s already happened! That was different. It was accidental, and out of necessity. She is not going to go to him at this hour. She. Is. Not.

Sighing, she clambers out of bed and walks across the room to open the door.

Zuko is younger than he’s been in a long time. He and Azula are playing on the beach on Ember Island. Running gleefully in circles on the sand, jumping over waves, and trying to find fishies. As they run back across the beach, Zuko ahead of Azula, he hears a small squeal and an “Oof!”

“Azula!” He’s turning around to help her up and ensure that no damage has been done, but now he sees Azula as her present self, levitating with the full force of her blue fire. And in between the two siblings stands his father.

“Your weakness has been known to me from the moment of your birth. Your sister has always been strong.” Zuko’s on his knees now, looking up at Ozai’s cruel sneer. He watches his father’s hands begin to glow red. “Yet you chose to insult her, believing her own power to be insufficient.”

“N-no father, that’s not why I–“

“Was it out of the goodness of your heart, Zuzu?” Azula is taunting him while examining her perfectly manicured nails. She scoffs. “Seems more like weakness, if you ask me.”

He looks up to find Ozai smirking.

What happens next is all too familiar.

Zuko wakes with a start, one hand over his scar, the other pushing him up to a seated position. These nightmares are nothing new–he’s had them since that fateful Agni Kai–but ever since realizing that his father absolutely would have killed him without hesitation had his mother not intervened, they’ve only grown in intensity.

Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose, dreading the rest of the night. He knows better than to assume he’ll fall asleep again if he tries, but if he’s tired enough to consider it. Tossing and turning to get more comfortable, he tries not to think of how well he slept last night.

He is not thinking about how beautiful Katara looked with her hair spread in every direction. He is not thinking about how safe he felt with her arms around him, nor is he thinking about how nice it felt to hold her close. He is not thinking about how when she was asleep, she tried to get closer to him when he tried to leave. And he is most certainly not thinking about her small smile as her lashes fluttered open and she greeted him for the day.

She wasn’t mad. She even seemed glad to be with me.

And he’d had no nightmares. Perhaps. . . no. This is ridiculous. That was a fluke. If he so much as suggested it to her, she’d water whip him into next year, which would be really bad, because Aang needs to learn firebending in the next few weeks, and there is no one else to teach him. But a tired teacher isn’t all that useful.

Softly stomping and shaking his head, he leaves the unfamiliar room–choosing the one that used to be his would’ve guaranteed no sleep for the next month–and, as softly as he can, opens the door and walks into the hallway.

Katara can’t believe herself. This is ridiculous. He’s gonna think I’m crazy. But then, she recalls the way he’d pulled her to him in his sleep, and how much he’d relaxed when she was back in his arms. The memory temporarily stilts her inhibitions, and she flings open the door.

“Zuko!”

“Ahh!” The firebender in question is poised right at her door, fist extended as though about to knock. Or was, until she said his name and he let out a scream.

“Zuko, it’s the middle of the night, don’t scream like that.” Her tone scolds him, but her expression shows her struggle to not burst out laughing.

“Um…I’m really sorry if I woke you up–“

“No, no!  I was awake anyways.” She watches as his embarrassed apology face turns into his concerned-Zuko face, the one she was vaguely aware of on the entire way back from her vengeance mission.

“Why were you awake?” She feels the weight of his stare, eyes pouring into hers, and it gives her a warm feeling, like drinking hot tea during a blizzard. Then his hand goes to the back of his neck. “Unless of course you don’t want to tell me. You don’t have to–it’s kinda an invasive question,  I’m sor–“

“Nightmares.”  She states, shrugging ever so slightly. Zuko’s concerned eyes are back.

“You too?” So he has them too. Is that…why he was outside my door? She goes to look towards the floor, because this conversation is teetering on deep and intimate, but she stops somewhere along the way because holy shit Zuko is not wearing a shirt.  And while she has seen Zuko shirtless before–though she tries not to do so around Toph, who takes the opportunity to cackle and tease her for no reason–there’s something different when he’s softly illuminated by golden candle light and sharing some small part of his pain with her. Then she remembers she was having an actual conversation, get it together, Katara, and looks back up at him, shrugging once more.

“Yep. It’s nothing new.” Zuko nods, his hand absentmindedly brushed his scar. Katara clears her throat. “So, what brings you to my humble abode?”

He smirks. “Technically, this whole house is my humble abode.”

“Just answer the question, I need to get some sleep tonight if Aang wants his waterbending teacher to be awake during lessons.”

Zuko blushes an adorable bright red­–the thought enters her mind of its own accord, shocking her as much as anyone else–and starts to mumble.

“Well, it’s actually sort of about that I guess…Um. Back when we were in the cave–not in Ba Sing Se, but the one after…yeah, um. I know we didn’t mean to…. But I actually slept really, really well, and since I had this nightmare, and I can’t really sleep I was thinking maybe…”

He practically flinches when he sees her surprised face, and tries to backtrack. “You know what, never mind, that was really, really weird, I–“

“Yes Zuko.” How was she ever so afraid of this boy who walks around apologizing for everything, stopping when he has even any inkling of her discomfort? Golden eyes meet hers in awe. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Now it’s her turn to blush. “I actually sorta opened my door so I could go to your room for the same reason.” She watches relief crash over his face, just like the waves outside the house’s walls.

“So, um, who’s room do we wanna…”

“Can we use your room? I just feel a bit suffocated by mine, especially after the nightmares. And because it’s so vehemently fire nation, it just feels a bit scary.”

She watches Zuko smile, for reasons unknown to her. “Yeah, that works fine.” Like the honorable gentleman he is, he sweeps his arms around, gesturing her towards his room.

At first, they sit upright awkwardly, legs under the covers. Zuko turns to her, his face on fire, “Uh, Katara, is it okay if we–“ she interrupts him by snuggling under the covers and leaning against him. Soon enough, his arms are around her, and she’s wrapped once more in the safety of him and his warmth. Both their breaths even out within a matter of minutes.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Katara awakes sprawled out across a warm spot on the mattress, presumably left over from Zuko’s heat. Outside, she hears the blasts of firebending practice.

She doesn’t know how strongly Zuko considered sleeping in, just so he could continue to hold her. She doesn’t know that he looked at her with soft reverence as she reached for him as he left.

That night, they repeat the awkward dance and game of room tag, albeit when they’re first trying to fall asleep instead of post nightmare.

By the third night, when they’ve both stayed up past everyone else–Aang and Toph are quite young, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess why Sokka and Suki are inclined to turn in early–there is no hesitation. They automatically doze off in each other’s arms. It becomes normal for them.

Now, under most circumstances, it would be a safe assumption that two people who sleep in each other’s arms every night would know just about everything about each other. Or, at the very least, everything of importance. This is not the case with Zuko and Katara.

Even though he can read her like a book, Katara knows that Zuko doesn’t know everything about her. He doesn’t know how safe she feels with his arms wrapped around her. He doesn’t. know that some combination of his warmth and the feel of him so close to her have been able to chase away her nightmares. He doesn’t how distracting he is when he’s shirtless, or how that effect is amplified about ten times when she’s sitting in his bed underneath the covers, and he strolls in, making eye contact with her and fricking smiles as he clambers underneath the covers to pull her to him. He doesn’t know how badly she wanted to fully snuggle into his chest as he slept, on that very first night on Appa. Nor how happy the small sigh of contentment he gave as he tightened her grip around her once she’d finally done it made her.

He doesn’t know how much she enjoys waking up next to him, one of his legs woven between hers, even though it is at sunrise. When she’s awake enough to make eye contact, he gives her the smile he saves just for this occasion, and adjusts the covers back around her sleepy form as he leaves the bed to begin his day. On the days when she doesn’t have the strength to open her eyes just yet, she feels him brush her hair off her face with a feather-light touch, something she never expected from a firebender. He runs his fingers through all of her hair, getting rid of all the tangles before the sun is even truly up. She’s never been able to stop the happy hum that escapes her as he does this.

And he doesn’t know how much she misses him once his day has started. He doesn’t know that she sometimes fights the urge to lean over and kiss him when they first wake up. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do once their little. . . arrangement ends.

This lack of knowledge goes both ways. Katara is fully unaware of how right it feels for Zuko to hold her, and how he cannot believe that he’d have the privilege to be this close to her in general, let alone as she sleeps. He cannot believe the vulnerability the beautiful waterbender shows him. He’s still in awe that he’s finally received her trust, and he can’t believe that she always seems a bit relived when he enters his bedroom–or maybe their bedroom at this point? No, that sounds way too much like they’re a married couple. But if you consider that strange urge he keeps getting to lean in and kiss her at the most inopportune times–like when they were sparring in front of the entire group. What was up with that, Zuko?

She doesn’t know that whenever he gets scared, or stresses himself out as he drifts off, that holding her a little tighter is an instinctive move. Nor does she know that the small sigh she lets out when he does so floods him with an emotion so strong that he simply can’t place it. She doesn’t know that he nearly stopped breathing on the hot, humid night that made her decide to sleep in only her undergarments.

She doesn’t know just how difficult it is for him to pull himself out of the bed every morning. If I’m not down there in the next five minutes, Aang will come looking for me, and he’ll either be concerned that I’ve died, or cranky about being up before his Sifu. And if Aang saw us in here together, he might go into the Avatar state, or at the very least tell Katara he doesn’t like that we’re doing this, and then she won’t come back and–he really has no choice but to leave.

Still, she doesn’t know how peaceful she looks when she’s asleep, or how the sleepy smile she gives him feels almost more powerful than the sun’s ascent. She doesn’t know that he fights to not brush her hair off her face, nor that on the days she stays asleep, he sometimes does it, and then savors her soft hum as she subconsciously scoots closer to him. She never knows how much self-control it takes him to not kiss her on the forehead as he departs, and she doesn’t know that he swells with a mixture of pride, disbelief, and guilt, as she moves a few inches towards where he was as he leaves.

Neither of them knows how much the other feels seen as they talk late at night before turning in. Neither of them knows how much the other values their willingness to do this strange platonic bed-sharing thing.

And, by some strange miracle (or perhaps curse), neither of them has realized that what they feel for the other can no longer be described as platonic.

It’s been absurdly easy to keep it a secret. Katara and Zuko are almost always the last to go to sleep, and Zuko’s always up the earliest. Second prize is stolen by Aang, who needs to be awake for his firebending, but Katara wakes before everyone else to make breakfast for their entire crew.

And they thank all the spirits for their continued secrecy. They know that the others would turn it into something it’s not. They know that Toph would snicker and Sokka would challenge Zuko to a duel and Aang would flee to the other side of the world and Suki would just apologize and give Katara a thumbs up, to which both of them would groan and sputter that it’s not what it looks like, but they wouldn’t be believed. Even if they were, there’d be a lot of teasing, and then the other might not think it’s worth it anymore and then–anyways, they have a silent agreement to tell no one. Not a soul.

Unfortunately, the secret eventually gets out.

At the worst. Possible. Time.

It happens because Zuko oversleeps. It’s out of character, he knows this, but he’s a human being who needs to get sleep so he doesn’t pass out in the middle of the day like some people–Sokka–and since he went to bed so late, his firebender-ness gives him a break, and lets him have a lie-in.

Why was he up so late? Shouldn’t the firebending teacher of the Avatar, the boy on which the fate of the world rests, be a little more on top of his sleep schedule? And he usually is. He’s become even more enthused ever since sleep meant cuddling with Katara instead of waking up clawing at his face. But everyone was up late last night, processing the horrendous mess that was The Boy in the Iceberg.

The play which threw all his mistakes back at him. He’d been up late wallowing in regret, even though everyone told him it was unproductive. Now, he really wished he’d gone to bed at a reasonable hour, and he really, really wishes that the Ember Island Players hadn’t chosen to turn his and Katara’s time in the cave into something out of a cheesy romance novel.

That makes it so much worse.

Sokka somehow managed to wake up first–he later attributes this to his “internal breakfast timer”–and decided to wake up Katara and ask her to cook food. When he realized she wasn’t in her bed, he began to panic. Zuko knows this because Sokka’s next move was to burst into Zuko’s room and yell “Katara’s missing!”

Zuko sits up immediately, the very idea of Katara being in danger overwhelming the knowledge that she’s actually right next to him. She rubs her eyes and yawns, murmuring softly.

“Wuz going on?” She looks up at Zuko, trying to blink away her sleepiness, and, even with Sokka standing across the room, he can’t help but feel so honored that he’s the first person her sleepy, cerulean eyes meet. But her half-asleep state immediately disappears when she follows Zuko’s gaze across the room, and sees Sokka’s face. Were the cause different, Zuko would have laughed; Sokka’s eyes are farther open than should be allowed on any human being, and his mouth just opens and closes repeatedly, as though he’s a fish, no noise coming out other than strangled sounds.

However, given the circumstances at hand, laughter is not anyone’s reaction.

Zuko hears Katara mutter “Tui, give me strength,” and watches her pinch the bridge of her nose, before she looks up and meets her brother’s eyes. “Sokka, wh–“

“Katara, what are you– was the play right?! Why is–“

“Sokka, it isn’t like that. This is exactly why we di–“

“And you!” Sokka shifts his glare onto Zuko. “You think you can just… Besmirch my sister like this! She is, well, apparently was, a young, innocent maiden–“

“Sokka! You know how obsessed with honor Zuko is, he would never ‘besmirch’ me in any way, and, as a matter of fact, the very idea that it would ‘besmirch’ me is sexist, outdated, and–“

Katara is tired, furious, and wrought with bedhead. She’s never looked so beautiful.

“Katara, I didn’t mean it in a sexist way, I just think that–“

“Sokka, are we just going to pretend that you weren’t waiting for Suki that night I asked about your mother?” Zuko manages to keep his tone free of judgement, but he struggles to fend off a victorious smirk. Sokka closes his mouth and glares off to the side. He lets out a “Hmph,” as though acting like a child will change the fact that he and Suki have been engaged in some very adult activities.

Zuko looks to the side to find Katara, eyes dancing, mouth agape, asking if that actually happened. Zuko tilts his head, and arches an eyebrow as if to say, yep, it did. She throws her head back and laughs.

“Sokka, did you fin–oh!” Suki gasps as she enters the room. “I’m so sorry, I… Um, Sokka and I will be going now…”

“We will not! I haven’t finished having the big brother talk with the firebender who’s been doing… things to my sister.” The Kyoshi warrior rolls her eyes. “Sokka, have you forgotten all the things we–“

“Suki!” Sokka yelps. And here Zuko was thinking Sokka’s eyes couldn’t open any more. Admittedly, it would sort of suck to have two separate people tell your sister about your sex life–Azula would have a field day with that one. But Zuko still takes a moment to thank all the spirits alive that Suki did not continue her train of thought. He's already gained enough understanding of Sokka and Suki’s relationship for a lifetime, thank you very much.

“You filthy hypocrite!” Katara’s eyes are alight with a mixture of anger and delight. “I cannot believe that you would dare to–“

“Aha! I knew you couldn’t just be sleeping in the same bed for no reason! By admitting that I was being a hypocrite, you proved that there was something going on here!” There still isn’t, Zuko thinks. Nevertheless, Sokka’s grinning from ear to ear at his triumph. “And you!” He snaps back into protective-big-brother mode. Or what Zuko assumes to be protective-big-brother mode–Azula vehemently rejected any and all forms of aid from Zuko, so he never fully got the hang of it.

“Sokka, we didn’t do anything of that sort. I swear.” Zuko has seen firsthand, however, just how overprotective Sokka can be, and decides that calmness is the best approach in this situation. “On my honor.”

Katara exhales through her nose and rolls her eyes at that comment. “Keep acting like your character from that stupid play, and they’ll never believe us,” she mumbles. Zuko scoffs. He looks up to find Suki glancing between him and Katara, some strange expression painted across her features. Disbelief? Confusion, perhaps? Zuko himself is certainly confused right now, so it’d be quite understandable.

Finally, she shakes her head and speaks. “Sokka, look. Katara is still wearing clothes. I’m guessing Zuko is still wearing pants.” There is no smooth way to quickly lift a leg to show that you are in fact, wearing pants, but Zuko’s method is apparently so poorly executed that Katara, in spite of everything, fails to hold in her giggles. Zuko wills himself not to blush, but knows that he is fighting a losing battle.

“Fiiiiiine.” Sokka squints at the two of them. “But just because you didn’t… do…. things… last night, doesn’t mean you haven’t or won’t do them. I’ve got my eye on you buddy.” He raises his fingers to his eyes and snaps them back to Zuko, slowly backing out of the room. Suki moves to follow him. “I saw your snuggling before you were fully awake. Don’t think I don’t know what sleeping in the same bed and cuddling like… um, like turtleducks means.”

Zuko is about to protest that, no, it really isn’t like that… Well, of course he can see why Sokka is so convinced, and it’s not like Zuko would mind being romantically involved with Katara, quite the opposite, really–wait, what?! Where did that come from, Zuko? His brief internal struggle as to whether or not he is a big perv for sleeping next to a girl he’s attracted to without her knowing that he’s attracted to her, and dear Agni, she’s gonna hate him for real this time delays his response, with catastrophic consequences. They come in the form of a blind earthbender passing by.

“Sugar Queen and Sparky have been sleeping together? Get it, you two! Just make sure this stays in an actual bed, and not on solid ground, and you’ve officially got the Toph stamp of approval.” She departs with a wink (a wink! Who even winks anymore?!) and finger guns.

Zuko is dumbfounded. Katara appears mildly traumatized. Zuko breaks the silence by putting his face in his hands and groaning.

Chapter Text

Katara’s eyes are glazed over, fixed on the spot where Toph stood mere moments earlier.  Her brain whirrs at top speed.

This is not good. Katara trusts Suki to handle this with maturity – she even helped convince Sokka that he and his older-brother-ness had nothing to worry about, but Sokka and Toph…

Toph!

This is bad, this is very very bad, this is–

“What?”

“Huh?”

“You were… looking at me funny. Did I do something wrong?” Without noticing, Katara had apparently shifted her gaze to Zuko.

“No, nothing like that, I was just… lost in thought.” Katara replies. She looks pointedly down at her lap. This may be the most awkward conversation they’ve had since – well, ever. When they were enemies, they just yelled at each other, and in the early stages of him joining their team, she wanted him to be as uncomfortable as possible. She’d found comfort in his discomfort.

But this is a mutually uncomfortable situation, even more so than that first night at Ember Island. She fidgets with the sheets, as he runs his fingers through his hair. He does so slowly, as though trying to keep his hands occupied for as long as he can. It’s mesmerizing.

He meets her gaze, causing her to flush red. Glancing back down at the sheets once more, she gathers the strength to break the awkward silence, with something, anything.

She takes a deep breath. “Toph.”

“What about her?” Zuko is strangely wary, even more so that after her threat at the Western Air temple.

“We didn’t actually tell her that we weren’t…” she finishes the thought by looking at him and raising both eyebrows. His eyes widen as understanding dawns.

“Shit!” He shoots out of the bed and starts pulling on a shirt. The movement is very distracting; his abs ripple as he pulls it over his head, and she has to fight the urge to frown as he pulls the shirt down to conceal them.

“Where are you going?”

“Damage control!”

“This second?!” She doesn’t know why his sudden leap out of bed annoys her so much – it’s only logical to not want Toph teasing them about this for all time – but it almost feels like a rejection. Like he can’t stomach the idea of someone thinking they’re together in that way, which she shouldn’t care about because they aren’t together in that way, but…still. It hurts for some reason.

“Well, do you want to have to explain to Aang what Toph is cackling and teasing us about?”

“What does Aang have to do with any of this?!” Even in that godawful play last night, Actor Zuko was worried that she was the Avatar’s Girl. Why does everyone immediately think of Aang when they consider anything remotely related to her love life?

But Zuko just stares at her and blinks a few times. “You… you do know that he has a crush on you, right?”

“I-yes, but how do you know that? Has he been asking for advice on how to woo me?” Spirits know why, but for some reason, the idea of Zuko trying to help Aang impress her puts a pit in her stomach.

“Wha-no! Why would you think that?!” His indignance shouldn’t make Katara so happy, but it does.

“How else would you know?!”

He takes a step back from her, and locks eyes with her completely. Breathless, she stares into pools of gold, the only things that exist at that moment.  “Katara,” he tilts his head to one side, as though inspecting her. He maintains the eye contact, but his voice grows soft. He squints. “I’ve known he liked you since I was chasing you to the North Pole.” He exhales sharply, rolls his eyes, and runs a hand through his hair, almost chuckling. “The kid has not been subtle.”

At first Katara’s relieved that he hasn’t been giving Aang dating lessons or whatever, but then, “Wait, so just because he likes me, there can’t be even the slightest indication that I have interest in anyone else?!”

“No! Of course not, Katara, it’s just that…” He plops down onto the edge of the bed, takes a deep breath, and continues. “He can be a bit…possessive of you.” He shoots her an apologetic look. “I know that he’s young and he thinks it’s all sweet and stuff, and I’m not trying to deter you from him or anything, if you like him then that’s great–“ He holds up his hands as if trying to block himself from a barrage of defense for Aang.

It’s a defense that never comes. “I just think that he’s got a lot on his plate right now, and him getting mad at me for… ‘seducing you’ or something like that would really impede his training. Training that he needs right now.”

Katara can only blink at him in shock. She’s underestimated him and his empathy yet again. But this boy, somehow the same one who chased her from one end of the world to another, has managed to put into words the exact feeling she had last night when Aang confronted her.

“How,” she clears her throat. “How did you notice that?”

He shrugs, and starts fidgeting with the fabric of his pants. “It’s happened a few times now. Last night he was nodding when my actor called yours ‘the avatar’s girl.’” He closes his eyes and takes another deep breath, as though bracing himself. “But the first time was…”

He sighs and tries again. “Do you remember, back in the catacombs, how Aang and Uncle came to rescue us?” She nods. They’re on shaky ground, and he speaks cautiously. “Well, when they arrived, you immediately ran to hug him. And, he um…” He looks up to meet her eyes. “He kinda shot me a dirty look over your shoulder.”

At first Katara can’t quite see it. She struggles for a moment to picture Aang treating anyone with that type of animosity (even when they were literally fighting Zuko, he remained cheerful, heck, he ever remained cheerful with Zhao). But then she remembers Zuko’s inquiry as to what his Uncle was doing with the Avatar – not the politest question given the circumstances, but an understandable one after seeing his uncle with his enemy. And Aang’s response had been a snarky, saving you, that’s what.

“I mean, we obviously weren’t doing anything of that sort, but since you were um… you were right there, and your hand was on my face, so I can kinda see why he might’ve…” Zuko trails off dejectedly. “And then you just sort of… left with him.”

A sudden thought slaps Katara in the face. “Is-is that why you chose to side with Azula?” She always assumed that, even morals aside, being with her and Aang would be much more fun than being with Azula, but if Aang had really acted that way and been Zuko’s enemy for so long…

He rubs his face in his hands. “Sort of… but also not really.” He sighs. “I hadn’t been home in three years, and the chance to go home, regain my honor, and regain my father’s love was all I had ever really wanted,” The mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the avatar forever, she recalls him saying. Oh, Zuko. There’s a story there, but he’ll share when he feels ready. “I did feel guilty about betraying you, especially since you offered to…” He gestures towards his scar, and Katara nods.

He takes a deep breath. “But I didn’t really feel like I was betraying him. He hadn’t been super nice to me in that moment and…” He sighs again, but this time when he speaks, he does so with strength. “I’m not trying to blame him for my bad decision – I probably would have chosen Azula in that moment anyways, just because I did want my old life back. But whenever I felt guilty about choosing Azula, and betraying Uncle and you, I-I told myself he wouldn’t want my help. But I am truly sorry for my decision,” he adds hastily and emphatically at the end.

He looks down guiltily at the floor, but Katara was having none of that. She throws herself towards him (his arms wrap around her instantaneously), trying to hug him into knowing that of course they wanted him there, and Aang shouldn’t have acted like that, Avatar or not, and holy shit, you smell really nice, can I please just stay here forever?

Well, maybe she’s not trying to convey that last one. Heck she doesn’t know why she’s feeling that last one (get it together Katara!).

She sighs, and he pulls her closer, and she nestles her face in his neck. After what feels like a blissful eternity, they pull back, staring into each other’s eyes. The moment spans forever, as deep as the universe in his irises, and he seems to be coming closer, and–

“Toph!”

“Shit! You’re right!” They shoot out of the room quicker than one of Azula’s lightning bolts to explain the real situation to their short, earthbending friend.

The fact that they stayed upstairs for so long, having their heart-to-heart is not going to help their case.

After lunch, as Katara does the dishes alone – Zuko would usually help, but he and Aang are making up for the morning’s lost training time – she’s finally able to take a deep breath. The encounter with Toph went much better than she expected. In their hassle, Zuko and Katara had forgotten Toph could sense truth and lies.

After they explained that yes, they were sleeping together, but no, they weren’t sleeping together, and made sure that she understood there was nothing romantic going on whatsoever, the situation was diffused pretty fast. Toph just said, “My feet never lie, and they tell me that you two are not getting it on.”

After that, she walked away, shaking her head and rolling her milky eyes, presumably because she no longer had anything to tease them for.

Now, Katara is shaken out of her dish-induced reverie (the motions have long become second-nature to her) by the sound of footsteps approaching. She’s so accustomed to doing the dishes with Zuko (who can dry plates in about two seconds flat with his firebending) that she turns and starts to greet him, before realizing that it’s not Zuko. It’s Suki.

Katara’s about to apologize for and explain the mistake, when Suki raises an eyebrow and says, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“No no no! Suki, I’m glad you’re here, I’m just used to Zuko doing the dishes with me.” Katara and Suki get along well enough – teaching Sokka a lesson regarding warriors and femininity had immediately placed her in Katara’s good graces – but she hasn’t spent a lot of time with her. She just doesn’t quite know her well enough to trust that Suki’d understand that it was just a mistake, nothing against her.

To her relief, the Kyoshi Warrior doesn’t take it personally. Still, Katara’s less than thrilled by her response. “Suure. ‘Doing the dishes.’”

“What do you–“ Katara’s confusion at her response is answered by Suki making a kissy face. She almost drops the plate she’s holding. Welp. At least it makes sense why she and Sokka are dating – they make fun of other people in exactly the same way.

“Suki! I told you guys this morning that there’s nothing between Zuko and I! I thought you were on my side about this!”

“Actually, you just called Sokka a hypocrite, and Zuko said that you hadn’t done anything sexual. I only supported his frantic defense by pointing out that you were both still clothed. At that specific moment.”  Katara fists her hands in her hair, leans over the sink, and groans.

“He and I just don’t have that kind of relationship, okay?!” Sure, Toph may be understanding (for once), but Katara’s gotten pretty fed up with the others’ behavior. “The others” being Sokka, who has taken to throwing his boomerang just over her and Zuko’s heads whenever they so much as talk to each other. It’s happened three times now, and she and Zuko only came downstairs two hours ago!

“Okay, okay.” Suki’s hands are raised in surrender. “I just have one question: why were you in his bed this morning?” Katara pinches her nose and sighs. She supposes it’s best to start from the beginning.

“Remember when he and I went looking for my mother’s murderer?” It’s a genuine question; Suki hadn’t actually been there for any of the discussions/fights about it. Still, she nods. Sokka must’ve filled her in. “So, after we… encountered him, we started flying back, and I was in a really bad place. It had also started pouring, so the mood wasn’t exactly bright to begin with.

“So, he decided that we should stop for shelter.” She hesitates as she recalls his flimsy Appa excuse; it was obvious that he was just worried about her. “And so we landed in a cave, and I just… I collapsed, Suki. And he immediately started to comfort me. And then…” Deep breath, Katara. “One moment, I was lying on Appa’s tail, sobbing, and he was trying to stop me from hyperventilating, and the next, I was waking up in his arms.” She blushes at how romantic that sounds. Suki notices, and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, stop it, you know what I meant.”

“Okayyy, so you fell asleep in his arms,” Suki fake swoons, “but why were you in his bed last night.” Katara turns an even deeper shade of red.

“I-I kinda slept… really well? And the night that we got back, I was having these really awful nightmares, so…” She shrugs as she trails off.

“So you bunk with each other whenever you get nightmares?”

“Not exactly.” Katara mumbles. Suki’s jaw drops. “You’ve been sleeping with each other every night since your field trip, haven’t you!” Katara does not trust herself to speak right now, so she just stares at the ground and nods. Suki exhales sharply and leans back into a chair.

“Katara, I don’t know how to tell you this, but sleeping in someone else’s bed, across their bare chest every single night is not exactly a hallmark of a platonic relationship.”

“I know it’s unorthodox, but that doesn’t mean–“

“Just let me finish. I know you don’t think there’s anything there right now, but… Katara, have you seen the way you two act around each other? I mean, until your field trip with him, I thought you were antagonistic towards him just to cover up a secret relationship!”

“Why would you possibly think that?”

“Well, whenever you were mean to him, he’d just stare at you longingly, as though he was sick of hiding your true feelings for each other!”

“What?! Why–He did not!” She brushes aside the memory of the small smile he gave right before she began threatening him that first day he joined their group. 

Suki raises her hands in surrender once more. “Whether he did or not, here are the facts: You sleep in his bed every night, which you find to be extremely comforting, you tease him at every available opportunity,” Katara opens her mouth to protest, then remembers her comments to him during the play, “whether or not you’ve noticed, you certainly ogle him while you’re making breakfast,” just because her gaze is drawn to Zuko while he’s training Aang every morning doesn’t have to mean anything, “and, let’s not forget that you trusted him to give you closure about your mom. Not Sokka, your literal brother, and not Aang, the fricking avatar, but Zuko, the literal prince of the nation that killed her.” Katara just stares.

“Look, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy or anything, but it kind of seems like you might have feelings for him. You don’t have to know right away, but just… try to give some thought as to what your feelings are. Then you can figure out what to do about it.” Suki offers a small smile to Katara, who stands there dumbfounded, and leaves.

Katara returns to scrubbing the dishes. Suki is being absolutely ridiculous. She’s viewing the world through romance-y glasses thanks to her relationship with Sokka (ew). But as she continues to swish the water across the more stubborn stains, her mind is going a mile a minute.

Friends tease each other. That’s just part of Zuko being a member of their group. But, no, come to think of it, she doesn’t tease her other friends. She mocks and scolds Toph when she gets too reckless, but that’s not teasing. She’s always super nice to Aang. And the way she teases Sokka is less of a joking manner, and much more of a “take my brother down a peg” sort of thing. With Zuko, it’s… different.

But the training thing, that is ridiculous. So maybe she just happens to end up looking at him a little bit when he’s training Aang. It doesn’t actually say anything about her emotions for him; he’s objectively attractive! It’s not her fault he has a fricking six-pack, silky hair, and gorgeous golden eyes. Okay, so yes, she’s attracted to him, but attraction doesn’t equal feelings!

And, well, yeah, she did trust Zuko to help her deal with getting closure around her mother’s death. But it only makes sense! Aang never had a mother, he was raised by monks, and Toph likes to pretend that she’d be happier if she had no parents, and just sprouted up out of the Earth. And, well… she doesn’t like talking about her mother with Sokka. She knows that he loved her too, and shivers when she recalls what she said to him the night she and Zuko left.

But he also dealt with it all very differently. He misses their mother, she knows this, but she also remembers what he told Toph. When I try to remember my mom, Katara’s is the only face I can picture. But she still remembers her mom’s face. Of course she’s glad that his burden was lessened, but she didn’t have anyone to fill the void the way he did. He missed their mom because she was their mom, but Katara misses both the woman herself, and the feeling of having someone look after her like that.

And Zuko probably gets that. She has a hard time seeing Azula stepping in to fill the void left by Zuko’s mom. She remembers how deflated he sounded as he said, that’s something we have in common, way back in the crystal catacombs. So, of course he’s the one she’d trust with closure. He’s the one who knows how she feels.

And as far as the bedsharing goes… Well, that’s just because it frees them both from their nightmares. It’s just a coincidence, maybe because he’s so warm. Or it could be the way his arms feel around her, especially when he holds her tight. It really could just be the small sigh he lets out whenever she snuggles into him, and that little half smile he gives, and –

“Shi…mph!” Katara bites down a swear as her hand is punctured by a shard of what was once a plate. Her waterbending has gone past removing simple food stains, and worn away at the plate until it shattered in her fingertips, all because she was lost in thought, thinking about Zuko.

The instant the shard pierces her skin, she’s confronted with a horrifying, exciting realization.

She has feelings for Zuko.

Chapter Text

Zuko knows exactly what it feels like to be watched. From living in the palace with his father, who he now knows was searching for any reason at all to throw him out/murder him, to evading capture from Azula (Azula!), to Jet’s stalking back in Ba Sing Se, Zuko has gotten very good at recognizing when someone is watching him.

Still, Toph throws him for a loop. She doesn’t give him the feeling of being watched, since, well, she watches him with her feet. He doesn’t always know exactly where she is, so she could be “watching” him at any given moment.

But her cover is totally blown by the fact that she has chosen Sokka, of all people, as her partner in crime. Zuko doesn’t even need his sharply honed instincts to know that he’s being watched. Sokka and Toph are hiding behind a small bush, and maybe it could be enough to conceal the small earthbender, but it’s certainly not big enough to conceal the both of them.

Then, of course, there’s Sokka’s method. Toph, again, can just sit there with her feet on the ground, but Sokka feels the need to look up by occasionally sticking his entire head above the bush, then slowly lowering it, rustling the leaves the entire time.

What exactly the duo is looking for is unclear to him. Over the past few hours, Zuko has grown to expect vigilance from Sokka, which, though annoying, makes sense given what Sokka thinks about Zuko’s relationship with Katara. It’s unpleasant and somewhat irksome to nearly get knocked over by a boomerang every time he talks to Katara, but sort of understandable. He supposes.

But… He’s teaching Aang firebending right now. Katara is in the kitchen washing the dishes, and he feels sort of guilty that she has to do it all by herself. Usually they’d do it together, but he has to train Aang, and is that why Sokka’s stalking him? Because Zuko abandoned his little sister to do the dishes all by herself?

Wait wait wait. He’s giving Sokka way too much credit. And, didn’t Suki just go into the house? She’s probably helping Katara with the dishes. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Well, that’s not actually true.

“Sokka, Toph, what do you two think you’re doing?!” Two heads pop up from behind the bush, one feigning innocence, the other blowing bangs out of her face and stomping away already. Until Zuko clears his throat and raises an eyebrow (though she probably can’t actually see the small gesture), prompting her to clomp back towards the bush.

Sokka still thinks he can play this off as normal, but the high pitch of his voice says otherwise. “Uhhh, Toph and I were just… picking berries!” There are no berries on the bush. “Y’know, for dinner! We have to eat something and going to the market is risky and…” He trails off as Aang and Zuko exchange a perplexed look.

“Face it Snoozles, you got us busted!”

“I did not!”

“You did.” It’s extremely important that Sokka understands how not-sneaky he is. How any of their gang is still alive, Zuko doesn’t know, but it is certainly not due to Sokka’s ninja skills.

“If you guys wanted to watch my firebending lesson, you could’ve just watched!” Aang says with his signature smile. It should be comforting, but it just serves as a sharp reminder that this cheery bald monk is the only one out of the loop on Zuko and Katara’s nighttime routine.

Of course, Aang doesn’t have a right to know about the platonic bed sharing — it’s not as though Zuko is actually dating the object of the avatar’s affection, which would be a much more complex issue — but it doesn’t feel quite right that he’s now the only one who doesn’t know.

But then again, Zuko doesn’t think that arrow-headed monk would take it particularly well. And since Sokka’s stalking is almost one-hundred percent the result of this morning’s events… A mess is about to unravel, isn’t it?

Apparently Toph’s seismic sense also lets her in on impending doom, because she chooses this near-disastrous moment to say, “Yeah, but what I saw was you using a strictly airbending-based approach to fire.”

“No, I —" Aang begins to protest, but Toph just holds up a hand, and shakes her head. “I may not be able to see your fireblasts, but I can feel the heat. And His Royal Flaminess had much more aggressive flames than your pathetic wispy ones.”

“Hey!”

“Let’s see if some real bending can pull you away from your flightiness.” Toph practically drags the avatar to the other side of the house, leaving Zuko alone with Sokka.

The awkwardness of the situation is not lessened by Sokka’s decision to glare at Zuko, in some attempt to intimidate him. Presumably. He could also just be inspecting him. Honesty is probably the best policy, so Zuko sighs, and starts.

“Sokka, I promise we weren’t —"

But Sokka just holds up his hand and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have been so angry about it this morning. Katara was right, I was being sexist, hypocritical, and overprotective. I mean, I’ll obviously hurt you if you hurt her, but as long as she’s… y’know… okay with whatever you guys get up to, it’s okay with me.”

Zuko just blinks. How has he earned the blessing of Sokka to date his sister without even… Never mind. “Look Sokka, I really appreciate that, but Katara and I aren’t together in that way, and Toph can validate it. She’d know if we were lying!” He adds hastily onto the end, in something of a panic.

Sokka raises an eyebrow, his expression and tone going into what Zuko can only guess is his “sleuthy mode.” This must’ve been how everyone else felt when Sokka walked around with a monocle and bubble pipe, a time Katara has described to him in detail through fits of laughter. It’s probably incomplete without the matching apparel, but the gist is certainly there. “Then what exactly was she doing in your room? Because I know what it means when Suki’s been in my room, and —"

“Stop. I do not need to know what goes on behind closed door between you and Suki.”

“Fair enough, but you’re avoiding the question.”

Zuko’s going to have to explain this entire situation, isn’t he. How does you explain to your best friend that you’ve been platonically sleeping with their sister for the past few weeks? “Well, right after we confronted the man who… yeah, um… Katara was pretty upset. I was trying to comfort her, because it was sort of my fault for taking her on the trip to begin with, and the only way to do that was to hug her, and then… we sort of both fell asleep.”

“Okaayy, but why was she in your room last night.”

Zuko sighs. Again. This is not a conversation he wants to  be having, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “I’ve gotten nightmares almost every night for the past few years. And… I don’t get them when Katara’s there.” He snaps his head up to meet Sokka’s puzzled expression. “It’s not like I forced her to act as a stuffed animal or something, she actually… um… she was also going to go see me, and —"

“Buddy, I got it, I got it. You sleep together platonically as a mutually beneficial deal.” Zuko ignores the mocking in Sokka’s tone. “Yes.”

The young warrior squints at him. “And you’re sure you don’t have feelings for her?”

“I — yes?” Alright, so he does think Katara is beautiful. But that’s just a fact that’s clear to everyone in the world who can see. He’s noticed it since he was first chasing Aang, so it doesn’t mean that Zuko has special feelings for her. And, of course he likes, no, loves being around her. She’s smart, and she’s strong, and she’s brave, and she’s determined. Heck, even when she had no clue how to waterbend, she fought against him.

And then in the catacombs, she looked absolutely ethereal with the green light reflecting around her in every direction. She was so very compassionate, switching from yelling at him to offering to heal his scar in a matter of minutes. She didn’t even flinch when she placed her hand on his scar to heal it. And… well… yeah, it’d be a lie if he said that he hadn’t wanted to kiss her in that moment. But really, anyone other teenager who was into girls would have felt the same way.

Yet Sokka remains unconvinced. “Right.” He stretches out the word, taking its one syllable, and converting it into seventeen. “Is this just a Katara thing, or do you know if this happens every time…”

He thinks back to how after the night he risked with Mai, even as they snuggled, he hadn’t really felt able to sleep. What if he woke her up with his nightmares? What if she judged him for it? The most sleep he got that entire night was dozing off for half-hour chunks of time. “Just Katara.”

“Riddle me this then, Sifu Hotman. What’s your plan when all of this is over? Once we defeat your dad, you’re gonna be the crown prince of jerkbending central again. So eventually you’re gonna be Firelord, right?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t see —"

“And they’re gonna want you to get married and stuff so you can have an heir to the throne. So, is Katara just going to chill with you and your wifey-poo? What about when you have kids…”

Sokka is almost certainly still talking, but Zuko’s mind is elsewhere. He’s imagined his wedding before — countless viewings of Love Amongst the Dragons are apparently quite effective at creating a hopeless romantic. It’s a big ceremony on the steps of the palace, crowds below cheering and crying happy tears at whatever romance Zuko finds himself in. The fire sage conducting the ceremony has a small smile on his face, an upbeat change from the expressionless priests the sages usually embody. And Zuko is happy, happier than he’s ever really gotten to be in real-life.

He’s never really considered what his bride-to-be would look like, not even when he was dating Mai (a girl he’d certainly be allowed to marry). All that had mattered in his childish daydreams was that he was going to get a happily ever after, just like in the fairytales, but now… well…

As soon as Sokka mentions Zuko getting married, he’s carried back to this dream from his youth. But now, when he pictures it, the woman looking up at him is no longer faceless. The eyes that stare lovingly into his are a unique color of blue. Her hair is half-up, half-down, the ends falling to her waist in dark ringlets almost unseen in the fire nation. And the smile she offers is a familiar one.

“— but of course, it’s not like she’s gonna always be chillin’ in the fire nation, there for the sole purpose of making sure crown prince Zuko doesn’t get those darn nightmares, it’s — are you okay man?” Zuko’s eyes are glazed over, fixed on the side of the house.

“I think…” he swallows and clears his throat, “I do have feelings for Katara.”

Katara paces back and forth in her light nightgown. It’s a hot night, and she’d really rather be in just her wrappings, but in light of what happened this morning, and her revelation halfway through the day, it just doesn’t seem like a good idea.

Feelings or no feelings, she really likes sleeping with Zuko — in the same bed as Zuko, she means — and doesn’t want to ruin that. She doesn’t want him to think she’s trying to seduce him or something, especially after everyone else in their house thought they were sleeping together sleeping together, and not just sleeping together.

At first, their entire deal had been awkward because sleeping in the same bed as someone is a very intimate thing — that honestly should’ve been warning sign, she supposes — and also because it was very difficult to discuss their arrangement without it sounding like they were sleeping together. It was awkward because they were avoiding any possible romantic or sexual connotation of what they were doing. The awkwardness dissipated because the lack of romance had become clear.

Now that Katara does realize she has feelings for Zuko, that awkwardness is back. The implicit platonic-ness of the arrangement has been shattered. But Zuko doesn’t know that. If he did, he might feel weird about their strange platonic bed sharing thing.

Ugh, but he might already feel weird. If everyone else thinks they’re doing…. things, then he may not want them thinking that anymore, and then he might not want to do this anymore. Which would hurt like hell.

It should not take this much mental gymnastics for Zuko to walk into his bedroom and go to sleep. In fact, it should take none at all!

However, there happens to be a waterbender in his room, who has been sleeping in his bed — only sleeping, thank you very much — for the past few weeks, whose trust he only gained recently, and who he has very strong feelings for. No pressure.

And he can’t tell her. Absolutely not. Part of it is because he knows she’s burdened by Aang’s feelings towards her, and he doesn’t want to add to that load, but the other part is selfish. If he tells her — or, more likely, if she figures it out — then she might think that he expects something from her, even though he doesn’t, but if she thinks that he does…

Deep breaths. If she thinks that Zuko thinks this is going somewhere, then she might back out to solidify that it’s not going anywhere. It’s a mutually beneficial snuggling arrangement. That’s all it is.

After a very important moment spent leaning against the door, Zuko turns around and flings it open.

“Oh! Zuko, you’re —"

“Yep.” He just stands there awkwardly, one hand reaching behind his head to grasp the hairs at the nape of his neck. He glances up to the ceiling. “Uh, we should probably…”

“Oh, yeah! Um.. You’re right.” At his suggestion, she walks over to the bed, and positions herself under the covers. Her spine is perfectly vertical, as she fiddles with the sheets. “Are you gonna…”

“Oh, right!” He stumbles across the room, bumping into a cushion on his way to the bed. It’d be adorable were she not so scared of what this awkwardness meant for them.  Once he arrives att his destination, he just hovers. She looks pointedly at him and then his spot on their bed — his bed, dammit!

“I’m just gonna…”He goes to take off his shirt, but it’s looks like he might be possessed by a spirit who doesn’t understand clothing. His arms are flailing, his head gets stuck, and it takes him maybe 90 seconds to finally get it off. She’d laugh at him if she wasn’t terrified.

He places himself in the bed carefully, limb by limb, sitting about a foot away from her. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she says, “So, which was harder: escaping the boiling rock, or escaping your shirt just now?”

He turns bright red, at her comment, and looks down at the sheets. Snickering, she smacks his arm. “Zuko, I’m joking.” He doesn’t fully look up, but he does tilt his head ever so slightly to face her. He offers a small smile and a soft look from the corners of his eyes, and Katara practically melts. How had she not noticed how she felt sooner?!

And then he shatters it.

“Look, Katara, I… If this is too awkward now…”

“What?” Katara knew that there was a chance Zuko wouldn’t want to continue after getting caught, but she didn’t think he would end it all so abruptly.

“Well, since Sokka and Suki and Toph know, I wanted to make sure you were still comfortable with…“ Katara should know, in her right mind, that this is just Zuko having picked up on the awkwardness, and giving her an out, if she wants it. She should notice how he deflates as he says this. But she’s emotionally and physically exhausted, and hyper sensitive to every word that comes out of Zuko’s mouth right now — damn those feelings! — so she doesn’t.

Instead, she lashes out. “Oh, well I’m sorry that you hate the idea of the others knowing so much!”

He sits back, flabbergasted. “Katara, I —"

“No! Was that whole Aang possessiveness talk really just shame? Is that it, Zuko? Are you ashamed of me?!” Hours later, Katara will realize just how much she’s overreacting. But right now, Zuko having a good opinion of her ranks very high on her priority list — thanks a lot, Suki — and is prone to reading too much into things he says.

“Katara, of course I’m not!”

“Then why are you implying that you want to stop because the others know?” she demands.

He frantically runs his hand through his hair, before exclaiming, “I was implying that you might want to stop!”

“Well, I certainly don’t!” she screeches. Oops. Is that too forward? Does he know now? Is he going to laugh at her, or leave, or —

“Me neither!” Their eyes are locked. They’re both breathing quite rapidly. His cheeks are flushed pink from the argument, and his glare disappears before her eyes, transforming back into the soft smile he saves just for her. He reaches out a hand. She takes it, and he pulls her to him.

As he’s holding her tight, closer to him than usual — she can feel the muscles on his torso, something she can’t believe she didn’t appreciate sooner — but his touch is still light as ever. Her arms wrap around his neck, and she rests her head in the crook of his shoulder.

“I’m glad,” she says softly, as sleep threatens to overtake her.

“Me too, Katara,” he whispers back, snuggling into her and playing with the ends of her hair. She hums in response.

A few minutes later, once her breath has evened and all that remains are the last dregs of consciousness, she feels him press his lips to the crown of her head.

But when she wakes up in the morning, she doesn’t know if it was just a dream.

Chapter Text

Then when you figure out a way for me to beat the firelord without taking his life, I’d love to hear it!

Zuko nearly halts his progress towards his room at the memory. He should have known this was coming. He had known, after the discussion on the docks, that Aang has a serious aversion to violence, but that had been different. Yon Rha deserved death, yes, but he wasn’t really a threat anymore. Had Katara chosen to kill him, it would’ve been for her closure, and her closure alone. Something Zuko was okay with, and Aang was not.

But he hadn’t dared to think that Aang would outright refuse to kill the Firelord, a man who literally planned on burning an entire nation to the ground! If only he’d known how Aang felt sooner, then he could have talked him through it, done something, maybe dropped hints about how awful Ozai was! Just anything to get it through this poor kid’s head that if he attacked with anything less than his full power, he and the world would be obliterated.

It’s not the life he wants for Aang, but he’d rather the kid feel guilty and alive than burnt to a crisp somewhere. That’s without even taking into account the fate of the world!

He flings the bedroom door open, grumbling under his breath, and ready to go to bed. Maybe Aang will have figured all of this out by the morning.

Then he sees her. As per usual, Katara’s already sitting in their—his—bed. Her head is angled down towards her hands, which sit motionlessly in her lap. Her hair lies around her face, blocking her expression like a curtain.

She looks up at the sound of the door closing, and his heart shatters.

He likes to think he’s seen a lot of Katara’s moods and emotions. He’s seen her scared, determined, and angry, yet brave in the face of danger. He’s seen her confident, compassionate, and generous, surrounded by glowing green. He’s watched her seethe with cold, sharp fury, and he’s held her when she totally and utterly broke. He’s lucky enough to see her bright smiles, joking eye rolls, and sleepy grins on a daily basis. He’s seen Katara in many states.

But never, ever has he seen this hopeless expression etched across her face. Her eyes are looking up at his own, pleading for good news of any kind. Her lips are parted ever so slightly, and Agni, he just wants to kiss the sad expression off her face. He wants to soothe her with his lips and murmur sweet nothings in her ear until she can’t remember what had her so crestfallen.  

Alas, he cannot do these things. He settles for joining her atop the bed, and that’s all he plans to do, he swears. But then his hand seeks out hers, as though it has a mind of its own. To his relief, she interlocks their fingers, and he gives her hand a comforting squeeze in return. “Are you okay?”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “I don’t really know, I just—” she stops herself, and bites her bottom lip, as though thinking.

“You just what?”

“Well… It’s just that I’ve been traveling with Aang for so long, y’know? I’ve dedicated the entire past year, which, if this goes poorly, may be the last of my life, to making sure Aang can defeat the firelord. And I-I can’t believe it might all be for nothing because Aang can’t stand to kill a literal genocidal maniac.”

“Katara, I’m sorry.”

She pats his elbow with her free hand. “Did you know that I first left my village to rescue him?  Even though we were technically going to the North Pole for both of us, it was really his trip. He chose all the places to stop along the way, and he was the one they wanted to train once we got there.” A hint of bitterness creeps into her voice, and there’s probably a North Pole story, but now’s not the time.

Her voice turns much quieter as she says, “I haven’t been home in an entire year. M-my Gran-Gran is old. Really old, Zuko, and it’s a harsh environment, and I don’t even know if…” He scooches closer so she can rest her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve spent the past year traveling and risking my life, even sacrificing time with Dad to make sure Aang was ready. And, of course, there was always a chance he’d lose, and it’d all be meaningless anyways, but I didn’t think he’d just throw it all away! I didn’t think he’d risk the entire world to keep a horrible man from dying at his hand.

“And,” her voice starts to shake, so he untangles his hand and wraps his arm around her shoulders. “And, I don’t want one of my best friends to die.” A tear glides down her face, and before he can stop himself, before he remembers that this is not the role he gets to play, he cups her face with his free hand, thumb brushing over her cheek to wipe away the evidence of her sadness.

He’d regret it the moment he finished the action, were it not for her reaction. Instead of slapping him, or pulling away, she leans into his touch. Once the tear has been removed, she looks up at him, a teary smile gracing her features, and sighs.

Then she leans up, and presses a kiss to his cheek.

It isn’t the chaste, encouraging peck he’s seen her give Aang since day one. Instead, she approaches slowly, giving him the time to close his eyes, as though it were a real kiss. Her lips hover for a split second, just barely touching his skin, before she finally presses them to his cheek. His scarred cheek. And then, she holds them there for a second, before retreating back down to lean into his shoulder once more.

And Zuko can tell with absolute certainty that he’s blushing like mad. He’s almost scared to open his eyes again, scared that she’ll be upset that he made her feel like she had to do that. But when he finally does, he’s glad he did. She smiles up at him, in the way she only does late at night and first thing in the morning.

She surprises him again by reaching up to smooth his hair, her fingers running gently through it to push the messy strands away from his face. His breath stills as her oceanic eyes lock onto his own. She’s leaning upwards, and for one glorious split second, Zuko thinks she may actually kiss him this time. Then she wraps her arms around him, and buries her head on his other shoulder.

His arms fly to reciprocate the embrace, holding her as tight as he can without making it weird, while also trying to alleviate her fears.

“We’ll figure it out, in the morning, I promise.”

“Thank you, Zuko,” she murmurs, already half-asleep.

Part of him does wish that she had kissed him, but why would she? It was just wishful thinking on his part.

And, besides. Holding Katara close, snuggling her as they both drift off to sleep is better than any kiss he’s ever gotten.

Aang is gone.

Aang is gone!

He told her, in that cave, during the storm, that he was done running away. And she’d believed it. “Gah!” She lets out an indignant scream as she kicks the wall. Then she lets out another one because kicking a wall was a truly terrible idea, and now her toe hurts.

But, really, a little wall violence is justified. She’s mad at Aang for running away again, but she’s angrier at herself for thinking he wouldn’t. This isn’t the first time he broke his word. He ran away in the desert! He ran away after he woke up, and almost got himself killed! Heck, they even had to chase him down on Appa to get him to talk about confronting the Firelord.

She should have seen something like this coming. The signs were all there. He was panicking about killing the Firelord, and he left to “think it over.” Was he even going to think it over, or did he just abandon them all? Again. “Urg!”

“Katara?”

“Zuko! Just… Just give me a second, okay? I was… um…. Doing a final check of the house!” He can't know that she's upset, not after she cried into his shoulder last night.

But he just shakes his head. “Katara, you can’t honestly expect me to believe that. I heard you yelling. Most people don’t yell at houses for no reason.” Of course. Zuko has to be able to read her like a book, doesn't he. “What’s going on?”

“Zuko, it’s—” she pinches the bridge of her nose. “It’s fine, Zuko. I’m fine. You don’t… You shouldn’t have to deal with my feelings every time I get upset about something.” She turns away to pick her abandoned pack off the floor, but Zuko grabs her shoulder.

He turns her around to face him, one hand on each of her shoulders. “Katara.” The way he breaths her name leaves her breathless. For a split second, she wishes he didn’t have the scar, because then his eye wouldn’t be partially closed, and she’d get to see even more gold. But the sliver she does get makes it all the more special, makes his gaze all the more intense, and she dashes the thought. It occurs to her that Suki should not have needed to point out to Katara that she had feelings for Zuko. In hindsight, it was pretty obvious.

“Katara,” he repeats, noticing that she didn’t respond the first time. Still out of breath, she can only nod in response. “I don’t have to deal with your feelings, okay? I deal with them because I want to.” He exhales a chuckle, and the smile he gives her almost wipes away her fear that Aang has abandoned them. “I mean, you listen to everybody else’s problems all the time, from Toph’s issues with her parents to Sokka’s stinky socks! You have problems too, and you need someone to help you deal with them, just as much as anyone else, okay?”

There’s a certain softness in his eyes, the one she first recognized back in the cave mere weeks ago. But there’s also a shred of harshness, of determination. He’s refusing to let her suffer in silence. It makes her feel protected in a way that she hasn’t since she was a little girl.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she throws her arms around Zuko’s neck and falls into him, just like at the docks. Much like then, he throws his arms around her waist immediately in response. The difference lies in the intensity and the length; they’re each holding the other tight, and not letting go.

“It’s just… Aang ran away again.” He’s holding her so close that she can feel each and every one of his strong abdominal muscles. “I just… I keep thinking he’s done with this whole running away thing, and then he does it again, and I….” She sighs. He rubs circles into her back. “Is this my fault? For not noticing the pattern?”

“No Katara, it’s not. It’s no one’s fault but his own, and you shouldn’t have to shoulder the burden.” She sighs, not ready to pull away, but knowing it must be done. She manages to muster a grin.

“Well, shoulder it we must, Zuko! Come on, time to see your avatar hunting skills from the other side.” She nudges his shoulder playfully as they walk hand-in-hand to the courtyard. “Thank you, by the way. For this and for last night.”

The awkward, adorable Zuko-ness of his smile makes it ridiculously hard not to lean up and capture his lips with her own. “Anytime, Katara. I never mind taking care of you, I hope you know that.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Who exactly do those two think they’re fooling? No, really, June wants to know; neither of them had seemed stupid before, but anyone can see the lingering looks and miniscule touches those two are throwing each other. They’re standing an inch away from each other. It’s like they’re wearing a sign that says, 'We’re in love, ask us about it!' yet they get defensive when she notices?

“Okay, okay. Sheesh, I was only teasing.” Out of the corner of her eyes, June catches a glimpse of the blush on each of their faces. Ah, so they each like the other, but won’t admit it. She wants no part in whatever teenage hormonal drama is about to unfold. “ So what do you want?”

“I need your help finding the avatar.” Well, it’s not exactly a ‘please,’ but it’s much better than the last time he was here. Still, she has no desire to wait around for his temper to kick in again.

“Doesn’t sound too fun.”

“Does the end of the world sound like more fun?!”  There’s the Prince Pouty she remembers! And because he’s right, and the end of the world does not sound like more fun, she agrees to help. Who knows, maybe watching Prince Pouty and his not-girlfriend try to hide their feelings for each other could be fun.

But as it turns out, those two not-lovebirds do a terrible job at hiding their feelings. For pete’s sake, they stand right next to each other, even when their short friend asks if the avatar is dead! And, sure, the waterbending girl doesn’t steer the bison with Prince Pouty, but she practically drapes herself over the edge of the saddle towards him. This is ridiculous! Their feelings are so obvious that it isn’t even fun to watch them deny it.

Finally, when they arrive in Ba Sing Se, what should’ve been a fun trip of tormenting two teenagers ends, she chooses to give them a few choice words of advice.

“Your Uncle’s somewhere beyond the wall. Nyla’s getting twitchy so he can’t be too far. Good luck. Oh, and you two,” she looks directly at Prince Pouty and his not-girlfriend, who he’s currently holding out a hand for to help her dismount the giant bison. “Make sure to use protection.”

Their frantic sputters as she rides away make the entire journey worth it.

“He’ll forgive you. He will.” Her words hung in the air, an unspoken ‘just like I did’ accompanying them.

Zuko was still doubtful and afraid—he’d spent the better part of his time with Uncle taking his love and support for granted—but he had no choice. He had to face him sooner or later, and there was not time like the present. So he stood up, took a few steps closer to the tent, and took a deep breath.

“Wait.” Katara stood to meet him, and pulled him into a tight hug. He reciprocated, holding her close, and burying his face in her hair. “Zuko, you’ve become such an amazing person,” she whispered. “You’re caring, and brave, and kind, and good.” She pulled away ever so slightly so that they were facing each other, their noses a mere two inches apart. Her hands moved to cup his face, and wipe away a tear falling out of the corner of his eye. “If he’s even half as wise as you’ve told me he is, then he’ll see that, Zuko. I know he will.” 

They released each other from the hug, but he let his hand linger on hers for an extra second. Giving it a quick squeeze, he said, “Thank you, Katara,” then turned to face his Uncle.

She’d been right. Against all odds, Katara had been one-hundred percent correct—he hadn’t doubted her opinion, but she’d probably underestimated Zuko’s betrayal of his uncle—and Uncle is now encasing him in a bone-crushing hug.

After a short eternity, Uncle pulls back and wipes his tears away. “Now, my nephew, we have some time before we’d usually eat breakfast. I would love for you to tell me all about your new friends and the adventures you’ve had since we last parted. I’ll get some tea started.”

“Thank you, Uncle. That sounds really nice.” Uncle rises to his feet, joints creaking ever so slightly, and puts a hand on Zuko’s shoulder as he passes him.

“So, how did you first come to join the avatar?” Zuko tells him. He talks about feeling lost in the war meeting, and using lightning redirection against his father during the eclipse. His heart warms at the smile on Iroh’s face when he talks about meeting Ran and Shaw. He talks about how shocking it was for Chief Hakoda to trust him so quickly, and realizing that what the chief has with the Water Tribe siblings is what fatherhood is supposed to look like. And that it's what Iroh gave Zuko.

He details Aang’s near-universal friendliness and optimism, Toph’s prickly exterior that hides the fact that she’s really just a sweet kid, Sokka’s good natured yet horrible jokes, and Suki's tendency to laugh at all of them. And he also talks about Katara a little bit.

“…and she didn’t owe me her forgiveness at all, but I just really, really wanted her to forgive me. And then she finally did, and everything just fell right into place. She’s so kind and compassionate, but she could absolutely kill you in a split second if she wanted to, and the fact that she doesn’t just...How do I describe it? There’s also something about—like when she looks at you with her bright blue eyes you just feel like you can talk to her about anything at all. And then her hugs just make everything else melt away, and it’s like she's the only thing that exists. Oh, and she takes care of the entire group, and they almost never help, so I had to step in and help her cook dinner and stuff. She really tries to always put on a brave face for them, but sometimes she needs to be reminded that she deserves good things too, and—”

“I cannot wait to meet her properly, Zuko.” He lets out a brief chuckle, that quickly turns into one of Uncle’s full-on belly laughs.

“What is it, Uncle?”

“And here I was thinking you were hopeless with women.”

“Wh—”

“Although, you can’t exactly blame me after what you did to that girl, Jin.” Zuko flushes bright red.

“No no no, Uncle. Katara and I aren’t… We aren’t like that.” He looks down and to the side, fighting the blush that’s taking over his entire face.

“Nephew, I have been walking this Earth for quite some time now. I’ve learned to read the signs of a man in love, and you, Prince Zuko, have shown me each and every one of them just from talking about this young lady!”

Darn it. He's an awful liar, and if what Uncle says is true, even if he had Azula's lying capabilities, this is not something he can walk out of. Zuko sighs. “I-I do have feelings for her, Uncle. It’s just that… I don’t think she has them for me. I mean, I chased her halfway around the world! I tracked her down using her dead mother’s necklace! I—”

“Zuko.” Uncle puts a hand on his shoulder, effectively ending his rant. “You are not the person you were when you did all that. Truly, I don’t think you ever fully were. I am almost certain that she knows this. After all, you did say that she forgave you.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And have you ever considered why she needs to put on a brave face for them and not you?”

“Not exactly, I just—”

“I think it’s very possible, even likely, that Master Katara returns your affections.” Uncle stands up, giving Zuko one last pat on the shoulder. “Come, Nephew. It is time for us to make a plan for the day. Make sure you let Katara know to join us.” He steps out of tent, throwing Zuko a kind wink. Unfortunately, he only barely heard anything his uncle just said. A single thought has taken over his entire mind.

It's possible that she likes me back.

Chapter Text

“No lightning today? Afraid I’ll redirect it!”

A few weeks ago, a report had trickled its way up the ladder of command. Well, ‘report’ was a generous description of the piece of paper that had wound up in Azula’s possession. Thankfully, it had the proper decorum, but the detail of the so-called report left much to be desired. And the handwriting was sloppy.

Just as she was making preparations to have words with whoever thought this scroll fit for her eyes, she spied a note from its author. This was originally not a report at all, it would seem. Instead, the officer who’d penned it had been listening to a rumor and hurriedly decided that it should be brought to the attention of those in command.

They were correct. She’d make plans to inform those who’d let this important piece of information become a mere rumor instead of official military matter that they needed to do better if they wished to continue to serve her father—though now it was her—as the Fire Lord.

The level of stupidity necessary to make such an error bordered on treasonous! Which was why earlier that morning, Azula made plans to speak with the leader of the Southern Raiders. She was informed that the issue could not be addressed until the following week, the earliest point at which he could arrive from his post near Whale Tail Island. She told the messenger four days at the latest, or he could consider himself banished.

Time would be of the essence if she wanted to know the full extent of what had transpired, but that wasn’t exactly possible anymore, now was it? Good thing she was intelligent enough to make do without, and Zuzu was foolish enough to grant her the tools.

“I’ll show you lightning!”

Honestly, she doesn’t even need the report to see what’s happening here. She was there when Zuko needed the peasant to save him from falling, and reached for her like a helpless puppy-lizard. She watched him tell the girl that he was fighting this Agni Kai to make sure nobody else—he obviously meant her—would get hurt. The report of them attacking the Southern Raiders’ leader together was just the icing on the cake.

Azula is losing this fight. There’s no way around that fact. But while Zuko’s been doing a shockingly good job at keeping his own body safe, he hasn’t thought to guard that which he holds most dear.

She shifts her aim to where it’ll hurt him the most.

He watches Azula’s eyes move, and knows what’s going to happen a split second before the lightning even shoots out of her fingers. It still might not be enough.

He’s running, telling himself it’s just a few more steps, because he cannot let Katara die. The rest of it—his throne, his nation, the world, his own life—doesn’t even cross his mind. There is only Azula’s lightning and the girl it’s rushing towards.

He hears someone yell, “No!” That someone sounds suspiciously like him, but he really doesn’t have even a millisecond to dwell on that because his legs are moving as fast as they possibly can, and he's not going to make it in time! So, he does the only thing he can do.

He jumps.

As he leaps into the air, he accepts his fate. He knows that if he is not grounded as the lightning hits, then he cannot redirect it properly. And he should be concerned about the consequences, but Agni, none of it will matter without her. Forget Sokka’s concerns about his ability to sleep without Katara, he can’t even imagine living without her. He needs her to be able to bless the world with her compassion, her strength, her eyes the color of the sea, her graceful yet deadly bending, her Katara-ness. Even if he doesn’t get to see it.

When the lightning hits him—the lightning from his sister, who he wishes he could’ve loved and protected, but now fights to the death—all he can do is hope it’s enough. Protecting Katara from this one burst of lightning is all he can do, but what Azula does next is anyone’s guess.

If anyone can beat Azula, it’s Katara, which is why he chose her to come with—well, maybe he also wanted her near him in case he died—but he’s still worried. ‘Can beat Azula’ doesn’t mean ‘will beat Azula,’ and the comet’s strength tilts the balance even farther from Katara’s favor.

Which is why once he hits the ground and releases the lightning he has managed to redirect, he has to get up. He has to protect her in any way that he can, because at least he has the comet’s strength to boost him. But try as he might, he can only curl in on himself, electricity still rattling his system.

In case this is it for him—and he doesn’t want it to be, Agni, he wants to live and spend a million lifetimes with Katara, even just as friends if that’s all she wants it to be because he’ll greedily take whatever she’s willing to give him—he looks at her. He wants to memorize her cerulean eyes, the way her hair loopies frame her face, the way her wavy hair cascades down her back. Without even trying, he reaches for her.

Then his strength gives out.

He’s not dead. He’s been burned from the inside out, and every individual nerve screams with pain, but he can hear the blasts of firebending and Katara’s cries for him—which really shouldn’t make him feel special, she cares about all of their friends, but it still does—followed by another blast.

You just have to defeat her. Don’t worry about me, Katara. Save the world and save yourself.

All Zuko can do is lay there and listen to the blasts and splashes of their duel. He helplessly clings to the sounds of each devastating wave.

Then he hears the clinking of chains, and a splash of water followed by a moment of silence. Followed by gasping for breath and more chains, and then footsteps rushing towards him, and—

And she survived. Katara did it, she beat Azula, and there are gentle hands flipping his body over. 

He feels consciousness slipping away for what may be the last time, and feels an unexpected burst of bravery. If… If this is it, he wants her to know.

“Katara,” he chokes out, reaching a hand up to wipe the tears off of her face. The bead of her hair loopie must’ve fallen off during the fight, because a strand of hair lies on her face. “Katara,” he tries again, tucking the stray strand behind her ear, eyes fixing on her shaking blue ones as the edges of his vision begin to darken. His hand starts to fall.

Her eyes widen. “Zuko!” Everything goes black.

Katara’s hands have been shaking for at least the past twenty-four hours. So much so, that she can barely hold the teacup Zuko’s uncle passed her from across the table.

She knew, based off of Zuko’s ramblings about his uncle, that the famed Dragon of the West was, in fact, a gentle, wise, tea-loving man, but watching him carefully pour her a cup of tea and call her by her title is something else entirely.

“You, don’t need to call me ‘Master,’ General. Just Katara is fine.” She tries to muster a small smile.

“Well, Katara, there’s no need to call me ‘General.’ I’d much prefer it if you called me ‘Uncle.’” This time, the smile, though still quite small, requires no effort. Uncle, as he insists on being called, smiles back. “After all, you might as well be family, with the way you saved Zuko’s life.”

Katara sets down her teacup, unable to trust that she won’t spill its contents everywhere, and looks at the floor. “Well, Uncle,” the word sounds strange on her tongue, but oddly comforting in a way she could get used to. “If it hadn’t been for me, he wouldn’t need saving. If I hadn’t run out in the middle of their fight, then—”

“Katara, what was your goal in leaving your hiding place?” The old man’s voice reminds her of her father’s the time she stayed out too long in the snow and got frostbitten. Comforting, concerned, and warm.

“Well, I-I wanted to protect him. He insisted on fighting Azula alone, and I thought it was a bad idea, so then when he started taunting her, I just…” She fights to keep the lump in her throat down.  “I had to make sure he’d be okay, but I didn’t think she’d aim for me. A-and I didn’t think he’d… I never imagined that he would…”

“Katara.” Uncle reaches a hand across the table and places it over Katara’s reassuringly. “I know that you were only trying to help my nephew. You should not blame yourself for that which his sister did to him.”

“But—”

“The reason I called you here was to thank you for all that you’ve done for him. You saved his life and defended his throne, and, by extension, his people. Before I asked you to have tea with me, you hadn’t left his side once. Which is the other reason I called you here.”

“What?” Does he know how she feels about Zuko? Is he about to tell her that Zuko’s unavailable due to some stupid royal arranged marriage? Zuko, would have mentioned something like, that, wouldn’t he?

“Katara, much as I appreciate your devoted efforts to ensure my nephew’s wellbeing,” she cannot decipher the twinkle in his eye, “I am becoming increasingly concerned for your own health, and I know that Zuko, were he awake, would be as well. When was the last time you ate something? Or slept?”

It’s not as if Katara had been intentionally neglecting her own health. The Fire Sages who came in often to check on Zuko’s status had nearly always offered her something to eat, but she politely declined. Of course, she knew that she should be keeping up her strength, that she’d stand a better chance of healing Zuko if she was fully recharged, but the nauseated feeling in her stomach told her otherwise. She was a seasoned healer, she shouldn’t have been so anxious, but…

The situation was too dire for her not to be scared. It was like when Aang got hit all over again. But minus the spirit water. And this time it was her fault. Zuko hadn’t had to throw himself in front of lightning for her, but he had. And then he’d brushed her hair back and breathed her name. With Zuko’s life on the line, that really shouldn’t have been what she was focusing on, but she didn’t want to let him die without knowing what he was going to say next.

As for sleep, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried. She was exhausted after the fight, and once Zuko’s condition was stabilized, all she wanted to do was collapse into his arms. And really, that was part of the problem. She climbed into his bed, fully wanting to sleep, but it just wasn’t the same. Even as she held him as tight as she could without worrying for his injury, it didn’t feel right. The thought of sleeping without his arms around her was unthinkable, and the fact that he couldn’t hold her tight nearly broke her. Instead of sleeping, she spent the next hour crying into his chest, then used the tears to try to heal his wound some more.

“Not since before the Agni Kai,” she replies.

The Dragon of the West—or Uncle Iroh, though that’s going to take some getting used to—opens his mouth as if about to scold her for her neglect, but before he forms the words—

“Prince Zuko is awake!” Katara gapes at the servant who just burst open the door. Her teacup falls to the floor and shatters. As she turns to Zuko’s uncle to apologize, he merely shakes his head with a kind smile.

“Go, Master Katara. I’m sure my nephew will be ecstatic to see you.” She doesn’t need to be told twice.

Katara bursts through the door like a tsunami crashing onto the beach. The blue of her dress is a welcome contrast from the ceaseless red of his room, though he barely has a moment to appreciate it before she charges at him, stopping herself with arms outstretched a mere moment before their would-be collision. Disappointment surges through him at the lack of contact, overpowering the rational thought that he should probably take it easy after getting struck by lightning.

“Katara.” He breathes her name like a prayer. She’s real and she’s alive and she’s here.

“Zuko,” she sighs back, letting him clutch her fingertips and pull her to him. Her embrace is both light and firm. She holds him like a precious heirloom, something that cannot be let go of, but mustn’t get shattered. He holds her as tight as he possibly can (which isn’t very tight, given his condition), needing her as close as humanly possible.

“Zuko,” she says again, “why did you…” she places her fingertips over his bandages, then lifts her gaze to meet his. He watches a single tear escape her wide, blue eyes.

“I had to,” he chokes out.

“No, you didn’t!” she explodes. “You did not need to risk your well-being, your country, your entire future to save me! How could I…. What was so important that…” she closes her eyes and another tear runs down her cheek.

He reaches up a hand to wipe it off, letting his hand rest on her face. “I had to,” he repeats, and their gaze meets once more.

She exhales. “Zuko, I—” her eyes stare into his, unblinking, and he wants to drown in the oceans of her irises.

“Can I kiss you?” The query rushes out of him in one breath, unable to be contained any longer. She blinks, taken aback.

“Yes,” she breathes out a chuckle, “please do.” The approach is slow, as he cannot muster any rapid motions, but it’s all the better that way. He gets to slowly pull her face down to his, caressing her cheek and watching her eyes flutter closed. He’s so taken aback by her beauty that he nearly forgets to close his own eyes, but the minute her lips touch his own, the kiss engulfs him.

Everywhere, everything, it’s Katara and her sweet soft lips against his own. Their lips move slowly and the contact remains quite light, but it fulfills every one of his dreams nonetheless. Zuko struggles to remember a time when he got to experience such bliss, but he decides that it’s a pointless exercise because this is Katara and she’s kissing him and he’s kissing her and in that moment he knows. He knows that everything is going to be alright.

She pulls back and inch and smiles. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that,” she breaths.

“Me too,” he exhales back, and leans in again.