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The banquet hall shines in every sense of the word: paper lanterns hang from the walls, adding a soft glow to the people who drift in and out of the room. The chatter of the crowd steadily builds as time ticks on, laughter and jubilation bouncing off the walls, refusing to settle down. Couples dance together on the dance floor, their faces bright with joy.
Though surrounded with glee, Zuko cannot help but to feel tired, watching as various ministers and nobles intermingle, drinks in their hands as they discuss the world’s economy, peace, and other frivolous topics. He sighs as he makes his way through the crowd, offering tired smiles to those who greet him. When a servant offers him a drink, Zuko shakes his head.
After a week of meeting with various world leaders, ministers, and representatives, Zuko feels the fatigue settle deep within his bones, feels the expectations placed on him heavy on his shoulders. He always feels this way at the end of the annual Peace Summit, but this year is different; this year marks the five year anniversary of the end of the war. Five whole years since Zuko became Fire Lord. Zuko isn’t sure if he is grateful or regretful that the Fire Nation hosted the Summit this year. Either way, the ending always feels the same, even if the Summit ends with a night of reverie.
Sighing, Zuko collapses in a chair placed conveniently at an empty table. He runs a hand down his face hoping that no one decides to come talk to him. Luckily, he has already made conversation with the various dignitaries in attendance, meaning he is free to relax for a moment or two. He wishes he could slip away from the party, wishes he could find refuge in his loneliness, but he knows that is not possible. Instead, his eyes roam the hall, seeking the comfort he so desperately needs.
There, just across the way, Zuko spots his uncle deep in conversation with Toph. Zuko can’t help but feel the jealousy tug at his heartstrings as he watches Toph beam up at Iroh, but Zuko quickly shoves it away. Iroh must have sensed Zuko staring because he shifts his focus away from Toph and catches Zuko’s eye; his face breaks out into a wide smile as he nods in Zuko’s direction. Zuko nods back before Iroh turns to Toph once more.
Taking a breath, Zuko searches again, spotting Sokka and Aang conversing with Chief Hakoda and Chief Arnook. Zuko can’t help but note the way the young Avatar holds himself, the way Aang stands straight and proud, like a man. Zuko feels his heart swell with pride at the thought of Aang’s accomplishments. Deciding not to linger too long on Aang and Sokka, Zuko turns his attention to the dance floor that is filled with young couples dancing to the upbeat tune of the band.
Zuko’s breath catches when he notices a flash of blue in the middle of the crowd. His eyes trail up her figure, landing on her face that is filled with elation. Katara throws her head back in joy as she grasps Suki’s hands, spinning themselves around as those around them give the two girls room to dance. Katara is as fluid as the element she bends, her dancing warm and enticing. Her face is flushed, her hair loose around her shoulders as she glides along the dance floor. Zuko knows he is staring, but he cannot help it.
Katara is the girl he caught lightning for, the girl he was - is - willing to give up his life for. The chances of finding someone like her is… well, Zuko never expected to find anyone like her to begin with. The war may have ended, but the solace he finds in her still holds steady.
Soon, Katara breaks away from the crowd, bidding Suki farewell as the other girl makes her way towards Sokka. He watches as Katara glances around the room, her gaze finally landing on Zuko sitting by himself. She smiles and Zuko’s heart jumps to his throat. Katara makes her way through the crowd, the determination clearly written in her face.
“Well, well, Fire Lord Zuko sitting all by himself,” she teases when she finally approaches. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“My social meter has officially run out,” Zuko tells her lightly, relishing in the way he makes her laugh in reply. “You looked like you were having fun.”
“I was,” she replies thoughtfully, cocking her head to the side as she considers him. “This past week has been stressful, it feels nice to let loose a little, you know?”
“I’m afraid ‘letting loose’ is not part of my everyday vernacular,” Zuko quips. “Even when this is all over, I still have work to do.”
“Do you ever relax?” Katara asks with a frown.
Zuko just shakes his head.
“Do you even know how to dance?” Katara teases, taking a step towards him, her lip quirking in amusement.
“Of course I do!” Zuko retorts, waving his hand. “Katara, I’m a noble, I was required to learn how to dance at a young age.”
Katara squints down at him, and Zuko can’t help but to wonder what’s going through her mind.
Finally, she stretches her hand out towards him. “Dance with me, Zuko,” she offers timidly, her cheeks turning pink as Zuko stares at her hand. “Please? Just one dance?”
Zuko swallows and looks up at her, his mind racing. “I don’t know, Katara…”
“Why not?”
“Just because I know how to dance doesn’t mean I’m good at it,” he states firmly, shaking his head.
“Zuko,” Katara chides, her hand still held out before her. “You need to stop thinking so low of yourself.”
“It’s a habit.”
She rolls her eyes, but she smiles nonetheless. “You’re being stubborn.”
“The music isn’t quite right for me to dance to,” Zuko tries instead, motioning towards the band. “It’s too quick, too…”
Zuko isn’t able to finish his sentence, though, because right then, the music shifts from something upbeat to something slower, more intimate. He watches the recognition form in Katara’s eyes.
“Well, Zuko. Can I have this dance?”
His eyes fall to her hand, open and ready for him to take. He’s tired, exhausted really, but Katara is here in front of him, offering the refuge he so desperately needs.
“Come on, Zuko,” she urges quietly. “Take my hand.”
Without thinking, Zuko takes her hand in his, letting her tug him out of his chair and lead him towards the dance floor. He tries to ignore the stares, the gasps of those around them as she places his free hand on her waist.
“Take a breath,” she whispers, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Hold me close, take one step.”
Zuko releases a breath and pulls her closer to him, keeping his hand on her hip light as she begins to lead. It’s been years since Zuko has actually danced; he usually avoids it when he can. He stumbles once, tripping on Katara’s toes as he does. Embarrassed, he looks down at his feet, trying to remember the steps he was taught as a boy.
“Hey, keep your eyes locked to mine,” Katara tells him, her voice soothing.
“I don’t want to fall again,” Zuko admits, feeling himself flush.
“You won’t,” she promises, removing her hand from Zuko’s shoulder and lifting his chin so his eyes lock onto hers. “I’m here, Zuko. Just look at me, okay?”
“Okay.”
As they dance, Zuko’s eyes never leave Katara’s. The crowd around them fades away as Katara leads them gracefully on the dance floor, the music acting as their guide. He feels his heart racing in his chest, but with the way Katara is watching him right now…
The way he feels about her, the way he yearns to be close to her, he can’t help but wonder if she feels the same way about him.
He wants to kiss her, wants to pull her close and never let her go, but something stops him. Oceans and duty and time and change. He wants to be selfish, but when it comes to Katara, Zuko finds that that is not the case. For her, he is selfless, putting her needs, her life, before his own.
The words are on the tip of his tongue, bursting to be free. The hand on her hip moves towards her back, inching her closer to him. He feels her gasp, feels her grip on his hand tighten.
The music swells around them, but Zuko finds that he doesn’t mind dancing anymore. All that matters to him is the girl in his arms, the way she stares up at him with adoration and reverence. He wants to worship her, wants to fall to his knees before her.
“Zuko.”
Her voice snaps him back to attention, the prattling of the crowd, the change of the music, and the soft glow of the lights suddenly falling back into place.
“The song is over,” she whispers, looking up at him, her eyes wide. “We - we can stop dancing now.”
“Okay,” Zuko replies, but he doesn’t let go of her.
“Okay,” she repeats, biting her lip.
They continue staring at each other, ignoring the curious looks people throw at them.
“We should get off the dance floor,” Katara says finally, dropping her hand from Zuko’s shoulder. “People are staring.”
Reluctantly, Zuko removes his hand from Katara’s hip and allows her to lead him off the dance floor and back towards the table Zuko was sitting at earlier. He vaguely registers Toph off to the side smirking at him, but he ignores her knowing she will tease him tomorrow.
“Katara?” Zuko pulls at her hand, causing her to pause to turn around and look at him. “I - thank you.”
“For what?”
“Dancing with me.”
Katara smiles softly, her eyes shining. “No, thank you. You’re a wonderful dance partner.”
“Maybe,” Zuko shrugs. “But you make me brave.”
Before he knows what’s happening, Katara throws her arms around him, holding him in a tight embrace. Zuko returns her embrace, hugging her so tightly he lifts her off his feet. She squeaks in surprise, laughing as Zuko spins her around.
When he finally places her back on her feet, her face is flushed. “What was that for?”
“I’m not really sure,” he admits, tucking a piece of loose hair behind her ear. “I guess I just needed to show you how much you mean to me.”
At that, Katara softens, leaning into Zuko’s touch, her eyes fluttering shut as he strokes his thumb across her cheek.
“Do you maybe want to get out of here?” he asks her, their recent dance causing him to be bold.
“And have you miss your own party?”
“I don’t think anyone will notice.”
She takes his hand again, going up on tiptoes and placing a gentle kiss on his scarred cheek. “Follow me, then, Fire Lord.”
“For you, Katara, I would follow you anywhere.”