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Blue eyes bore into gold as Katara and Zuko stare threateningly at each other under the dim light of the moon in the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom. Katara’s hands sit protectively over her waterskin while Zuko stands straight and tall, his broadswords peeking over his shoulders.
Her eyes scan over him quickly and she sees that he no longer has the regal ponytail and shaved head that accentuated the sharp angles of his face. There is an inch of hair that covers his head and it compliments his now all too skinny jawline. Katara can tell he has been out in the desert for longer than she has, and it is apparent with the sunken look in his eyes. He looks weak and tired. Nothing like the Fire Prince that rises with the sun .
It does not keep her from holding tightly onto her water skin.
He stands straight and tall, his swords untouched, even as the sound of Katara’s waterskin popping open makes him flinch.
“Why are you out here?” Katara hisses and flexes her wrist to prepare for attack. Zuko scoffs and the control she has on her stance loosens, the water she is holding onto falling to the sand.
“It’s not any of your concern,” he remarks. Zuko steps begins to walk forward and Katara is ready for a blast of flame to hit her, but he merely walks past her and into the darkness of the desert.
To say that Katara has been starved of human contact after losing Sokka, Toph, and Aang in a sandstorm would be an understatement. She stands in the middle of nowhere, dehydrated despite being a waterbender, hungry, and maybe considering asking what direction the Fire Prince is headed to.
Scoffing at the ridiculousness of her idea, Katara watches his shrinking form with a glare. It would be traitorous of her to get help from someone whose life goal is to capture the last hope of the world.
But Katara’s stomach grumbles and Zuko’s pack looks like it is full of food.
So against her better judgement, Katara runs to him and begins her journey with an enemy.
This is how she finds herself crouching beneath his arm in an abandoned barn, hiding behind bales of hay, from leechers and rogue sandbenders. She cranes her neck to glimpse at him and he is looking at her sternly. His finger rises to his lips to silence any noise that comes from her mouth. Katara bites her lip and stares at the hay in front of her, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach.
The butterflies first appear a week after she joins his crusade when she hears him laugh for the first time. Katara had made a silly joke about Sokka’s stinky feet and Zuko let out what could only be called a chuckle.
The sound rang nicely in her ears.
The closeness of their bodies became natural after their first encounter with bandits and needed to hide behind a trash bin in an alley. To feel safe with Zuko had been a foreign concept to Katara up until he drew his broadswords to protect her from depraved men lurking the streets.
Now she finds herself blushing at his every touch, cowering at his gentle gaze, and wishing to hear more of his smooth laugh.
“I think they’re gone,” Zuko whispers gravelly, lifting his arm from her shoulders and peeking over the bales of hay to check their surroundings. He stands up and offers her a hand and lighting shoots through her arm at his grip.
“I think we can settle here for the night,” he suggests, untying his broadswords from his back and laying their sack of supplies down on the ground. There is nothing but hay around them and a faint sound of sleeping chickendoves but it stands to be the nicest place they will spend the night in.
So Katara unfurls their sleeping rolls, grabs some hay and stuffs it under to serve as a pillow. Zuko sits across from her, pulling some dried fruits and nuts out from his pack and hands her a handful. Their dinner is small and unsatisfying, but Katara can’t help but feel comfort from the domesticity of it all.
“Katara, you’re staring at me,” she hears Zuko say and she snaps out of her trance.
“Oh, sorry,” she mutters and stuffs some berries and it’s in her mouth to mask her blush.
“What are you thinking about?” He asks, and Katara looks up to see the genuine curiosity that’s floating in his amber eyes.
“My brother,” Katara confesses. “I’m just wondering where they are… if he, Aang and Toph are together. How I got lost…” She trails off and Zuko lets out a breath. In the back of Katara’s mind, she also worries about Zuko turning around and betraying her. But for some odd reason, the past few weeks of traveling brings her more comfort than she felt with Aang on Appa.
It scares her to the ends of the Earth.
“I don’t have answers for any of those questions but if there’s something I do know…” Katara sees him hesitate and she holds her breath, waiting for him to continue.
“I know I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Katara’s insides explode in a flurry of fireworks and waterfalls.
Zuko coughs uncomfortably and adjusts in his seat.
“Well, we should turn in.”
Katara is taken aback, but agrees nonetheless. They take their respective places on their bedrolls; her back to him and him staring up at the ceiling.
Minutes pass of silence and she can hear his breath evening out. Something in Katara pushes her to face Zuko, to glance at him while he is not on alert; to see his face when it is calm. The scar on his face is still visible in the darkness as she resists the urge to touch it. His arms are folded behind his head and instead of a picture of peaceful sleeping, his brow is furrowed and a bead of sweat forms on his forehead.
Something is aflame in Katara —courage or pity, she doesn’t know— but she reaches across to wrap her arm around his waist tightly, to assure him that she also will not let anything happen to him.
She gasps when his arm wraps around her as well. His grip is tight around her waist and his breaths are still even but the furrow in his brow is no longer visible. A small smile flits on Katara’s lips.
She sleeps soundly for the first night in weeks wrapped in Zuko’s arms.