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Katara dragged her feet along the corridors of the fire palace. She isn’t sure what time of the day it is, but judging by the way the moon pulls at her blood, she’s almost sure it’s past midnight. It doesn’t matter, really. Her energy is at its highest peak and yet her bones and muscles ache with exhaustion.
She’d push through it, she always did.
One more day, one more night.
Resting could wait until he would be okay.
Yes , he was alert. And yes , he was responding. But it wasn’t enough for her to be calmed. No , she wouldn’t be calmed until he was back on his feet, back on his sulking and shouting self.
It felt like a joke, really . Some twisted and dark joke a spirit played at her, at them.
No matter how she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling someone was laughing at her back in the Spirit World. She never despised spirits more in her life.
But sometimes, when she got a look at him, she couldn’t help to be thankful as well that he was in her life. Safe .
It was in moments like this, really; with her back against the cushioned headboard of his stupidly huge bed and his body slightly reclined between her legs. His head resting sometimes on her stomach, other times over her thigh.
He insisted it relaxed him, the position. With her arms around him and her warmth at his back, he told her it made him feel safe. Cared about .
But she saw the truth between his words.
It wasn’t difficult, not to her at least. She had long become an expert in reading him, in seeing past his words or gestures. She could easily point out his lies, and she could also know why he would bother to lie to her.
He didn’t feel safer. Or maybe he did, but it was still a half truth .
He was trying to make her feel better. A stupidity, really; because he better than anyone should know she wasn’t going to be better until he was.
He didn’t want her to see him in pain. Weak as he was.
With her face turned from her, he could feign strength. With only his words and voice, he could nearly convince her he was perfectly fine.
She should have called him out on his lie. She should have shown anger, or frustration, or something; at his attempts. But the truth is, she preferred it to be like this. Just for the moment, just this time.
Because with his body against hers and her arms around him she could nearly forget about the assassination attempt. About the venom that had been in his veins not a week ago.
She could forget she had to see him paler than ever and weaker than she would have ever imagined, that she had to heal him day after day without him opening his eyes at all.
She could forget she thought he was dying on her all over again.
And because she could forget, she could remind herself the reason she had been on that Fire nation vessel in the first place, before Iroh’s letter reached her.
For the past five years, there was always something in between.
First it was their own convictions that pushed them away; her towards the arms of the avatar, and his towards the arms of a Fire Nation noble.
Then it continued with their own stubbornness. Day after day, Katara convinced herself she would grow to love Aang just as he loved her, but the feeling never came. Yes , she loved him, but she wasn’t in love with him. How could she, when her heart already belonged to another?
She didn’t know the whole story about Zuko and Mai, though; if it was like hers and their relationship was based in commodities and safe choices or if he loved her first and then outgrew that love.
Five years since she parted without her heart inside her ribcage.
Now; three years from his breakup with Mai, and almost two and a half since her own with the young airbender; she longed to get it back on place, although it would always belong in his hands.
So after all that time, and with no obstacles for once; she had come to a decision.
She already knew (had known for a while) what her feelings were. What her soul and body and heart wanted .
And she had no doubt about him feeling the same.
She was determined, but it wasn’t something she wanted to put on a letter. No, this was something she had to do herself, in person. Those little three words , the culmination of their bond; she had to voice them, not write them. They were too important to be put on a piece of paper.
She was focused on her task, speeding slightly the boat to Caldera she had jumped in once she had the opportunity. But now. . ., her determination crumbled. Seeing him in bed rest put a stop to her own thoughts and wants beside saving him.
And once the determination flared away, the fears crawled inside her chest with twice as force as they did in the past. Not fear of rejection, or being hurt, no. Fear of loss , now that she could have it all. Fear that once she could grasp her dreams in her palm they would disappear in the thin air, like the sand between your fingers when you tried to take a handful in the beach.
How many times had it happened? How many attempts against his life he had suffered, without saying a word to his friend and family? Without telling her?
She knew what he would say, that he didn’t want to worry them; but it wasn’t enough . He could have died, just as he almost did at the end of the war. He could have died and she would have heard of it in a letter or an announcement made by someone from his council.
He could have died and she wouldn’t have been able to do anything, to say anything.
She wasn’t going to let them, she decided.
He would have to push her from the palace, banish her from the Fire Nation; to stop her.
She wasn’t going to leave again.
It wouldn’t come as a surprise to him, it shouldn’t . It’s been years since they first talked about it, even when they were still with each other's partners. She knew she had a room in the palace for her visits as an Ambassador. She knew she could be in them as long as she wanted. Even permanently. But he never said so, he wouldn’t do it. Not when she was with Aang, not when she wasn’t. He would never ask her to stay , because she knew he believed it would be like asking her to forget about her upbringing, her roots.
But he was mistaken .
She could be anywhere and everywhere she wanted.
She had been in the South Pole, helped her village grow and the new waterbenders learn. She had been in the North Pole, training and becoming a master healer. She had been in the Earth Kingdom, helping with treaties and coups when Aang couldn’t go due to other compromises. But she was known as the Avatar’s girlfriend there. (Always the Avatar’s girlfriend).
She had been in all those places again, after their break up. She had healed, and fought, and helped. And this time she was Katara, the Avatar’s teacher, a master waterbender, a war hero .
She had looked for purpose and had found little, some here and there. But her heart knew something was missing, that she wanted something bigger.
So he had taken her position as Ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe back. At that time, she still lived most of her days down in the pole, but she was becoming restless there and she was feeling alone, a little bit each day.
She ached for that thrust of power that came from disagreeing with the old nobles of the Fire Nation council, she longed for the satisfaction it brought here to see their brows frown and their shoulders shrink when they realized she was right. And the look on Zuko’s eyes when she put some of his most conservative ministers in their place. . . Tui and La, how she longed for that look .
But even if it was already decided, even if half of what she planned was really happening; she couldn’t push through with the other half.
Not now , she would say. When he’s better , she would lie.
For now, she lays with him every night, his head on her lap. And sometimes, when his eyes flutter shut and she knows he’s far asleep to hear, she’d place her lips on his forehead and say those three little words out loud. And sometimes, that seems enough .
It isn’t until months later, with her already installed in her chambers and functions as her tribe ambassador that she dares to say them out loud while he’s awake.
She didn’t think of doing it, really; but upon the sight of the boy from the land forever touched by the sun, the boy of fire whose fierceness is only battled by his stubbornness playing delicately with the newly born turtleducks from his garden, his regal clothes half wet from the pound; it just slipped from her lips.
The look on his eyes and the way his lips curve in the wider smile she has ever seen on his face are worthy of her slip, though.
And as he takes her cheeks in his hands, when she feels the gentleness in his hold and sees the way his eyes search for hers; she can’t help to think of how he’s made of contradictions.
He, once controlled by his temper and his rage, has a heart that loves purely and freely.
He, who could crush and burn his enemies with the ease of taking a gasp of air, held those he cared about with the same delicacy as someone holding their first born.
His hands, callous and rough from years working and fighting with them, leave soft caresses there where their touch land.
Katara realizes she loves his contradictions as much as she loves him.
She also realizes she probably was doomed to fall for him the moment she saw him. Not back when he attacked her village, but when she first really saw him, under the greenish glow of the catacombs of Ba Sing Se. That moment, she realizes, he had unconsciously given a piece of the puzzle he is to her. And Katara has always loved puzzles.
And because it’s true, and she’s already waited long enough, she says it again.
“ I love you .” Simple, easy.
And when he wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly, she does the same. But she doesn’t want to stop there, so she talks again. “ I’ve loved you for a long time, Zuko. The longest time. I— I wanted to tell you the minute I arrived but when I saw you on that bed, when you almost died! ” She doesn’t say ‘ again ’ but they both hear it either way.
He only tightness his hold if it’s even possible, his hand on her hair soothing her. “ I know Katara, and I love you. Agni, I think I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you .”
And even when his confession made her legs feel like they were made of jelly, it was the first half of his sentence that caught her attention. Withdrawing slightly from his hold, so she could see his eyes perfectly, she frowned. “ What do you mean you ‘know’? ”
And with her question, he produces a soft chuckle that reverberates against her chest there where their bodies remain pressed. And then, with that sound, her brow arches slightly, not quite following what was happening.
“ You use to say it, at night. ” And she could deny it, not really knowing what he implied. But then it hit her, and she remembers. The nights, at first, with him still slowly recovering from the poisoning. Then more nights, just the two of them because they felt safer with each other’s presence. The words she hushed in the dark, knowing she was the only one to hear. Apparently, she was wrong.
“ Why didn’t you say anything? ”
“ I didn’t want to impose .” A shrug. “ I didn’t want to say something and cause you to say it because of it. I wanted you to be ready. ”
And because it’s the most him thing to do, she laughs. And after she calms herself again, her little giggles muffled against his shoulder, he lifts her head again.
“ I love you .” He says, and her arms circle his neck, bringing him the closest they can manage without actually melt themselves in one . Their noses and lips barely a hair away.
“ I know .” She says, and lifts herself on her toes to close the distance, sealing their love with a kiss.
The first kiss of their story together, but surely not the last.
Story inspired by this beautiful piece of art;
by @NEPHIL1MSHIELD:
