Work Text:
Katara knows that Zuko is trying. He has been doing so from the moment she’d first written him that letter. She’ll glance up in the middle of sipping tea to see his gold eyes fixed on her anxiously. She knows it was he who had requested his cook to find some Water Tribe dishes to make for her. They didn’t taste the same as her Gran-gran’s but the gesture had made her smile. She had been half-conscious the day that she had fallen asleep in the garden in the middle of the afternoon but she knows it was Zuko who had lifted her and carried her into the shade. She knows because she’d been surrounded by that scent of jasmine and cinnamon and sun-warmed skin, so familiar even though it had been a long time since Katara had been close enough to Zuko to smell it.
But none of it takes the edge away. Because he’ll eventually grow tired of all of it, won’t he? Here she is, having begged him to let her come visit him. What could he have done but agree? Zuko’s heart is so soft, he couldn’t possibly have turned her away, despite the distance that has grown between them over the last few years. Despite the fact that it has been forever since Katara and Zuko have spoken on anything more than polite topics. Despite the fact that even now, even as he watches her with worried eyes, he does not make the first move to approach her or to break down the wall that separates them.
“Come with me,” Sokka had begged before going to Kyoshi. But she couldn’t be around her brother and Suki. Not now. She couldn’t go to Toph either. Toph was in Ba Sing Se and Aang visited her too often. She couldn’t face the memories of that city, where she had accompanied him on so many trips.
“Do something for yourself, Katara,” her father had told her. “All you have done for the last four years is accompany Aang wherever he went or worked for the Tribe here. I know it hurts and you need a break. Go with your brother, go visit your friends. Do something other than train.” But she wasn’t allowed to hurt. How could she when it had been her who’d broken Aang’s heart?
She doesn’t know why she’d written to Zuko despite this. He had said yes. And she had come.
She leans her head on the cool marble of the balcony. The night is so dark, the moon barely a sliver. At long intervals, she can catch a flash of silver in the distance, wane moonlight glinting off white waves. She knows sea-facing views are very rare in Caldera City. She knows the only reason she has one is because she is being housed in the royal apartments. It’s a breach of protocol, she’d known by the frown on the face of Chiyo, the chief-of-staff.
Zuko’s room is a couple of doors down from hers, though Iroh’s is in a separate wing. She doesn’t really know whether that is a source of comfort or not. It’s something that she has been distinctly aware of, the last week, although she has not known what to do with that knowledge.
Today, she finds her feet leading her towards his door, in the opposite direction from the stairs she usually goes towards. She hasn’t been to this part of the palace in a while and it takes her a minute to identify which door is actually his. There’s a strip of light showing from under the doorway. She pauses, gathers her nerves together and knocks.
There’s silence for a long moment before Zuko opens the door. His hair is down around his shoulders, his robes parted at his chest to reveal the burn scar. He blinks at her a few times. “Katara? Is everything alright?”
“You don’t have any guards at your door.” Ugh! She’s so stupid. What a dumb thing to greet him with.
He frowns slightly. “I haven’t had any guards at my door for three years. Uncle insisted it was necessary in the beginning but...my room is the one place I can be alone.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” she smiles nervously. There are a lot of things she doesn’t know about Zuko anymore. “Never mind, I don’t know why I came. I’ll just g...”
“Do you want to come in?” He holds his door open wider in invitation.
She hesitates but then slips inside, silent as smoke. Softly, he closes his door. Zuko’s room isn’t done up in the dark reds and blacks that it had been when she had last seen it at the end of the war. The walls are a soft cream, and the carpet is a soft, pale grey. The bed hangings and curtains gleam a dull gold while his bedsheets are white cotton. There’s a large tapestry that takes up the entire wall opposite the bed, done in bright greens and blues and splashes of red, depicting scenes from the Fire Nation. It’s all very different from the dark and stifling room it had been in Ozai’s time.
Katara’s memory of those days she had spent in the Fire Lord’s room, healing Zuko as he slept and slept and slept and refused to wake up are blurred. All she remembers is a haze of worry, of guilt, of fear. But even then she had registered a certain sense of breathlessness in the room, as if Ozai’s spirit was crushing her down for daring to be there.
Zuko has come up behind her and when she turns around, he is surveying her carefully. That worried look is back in his eyes. He reaches out as if to brush back her hair but then drops his hand. “Katara, what’s wrong?”
“I just couldn’t sleep,” she gives him a small smile. “It’s too quiet here, you know.” She’s never spent much time absolutely alone in a room. At the Southern Water Tribe, she’s always stayed in her family’s home. And while travelling, she and Aang had always shared, whether they stayed in a tent or just curled up on Appa. The stillness that accompanies having a room to herself is unsettling. She even misses Sokka’s snores.
He looks uncertain. Then, “Do you want to stay?”
That question in his rasp is like a finger grazing down her spine. Every hair on her arms and the back of her neck stands on end. Her instincts tell her that this is stupid, this is dangerous, not again. But every other part of her whispers yes, yes, yes.
“I don’t want to bother you.”
But Zuko has moved away, pulled back the blankets for her and is giving her that smile—flash of gold eyes, slight upturn of the lips at the corner. She’d never been able to resist that smile and her feet move as if of their own volition. Katara studies him for a moment, searching for any sign that this is unwanted, that she is unwanted. But there’s only warmth in his eyes.
She crawls in under the blankets. Zuko disappears behind a red laquer screen. He emerges in soft sleep pants and a sleeveless tunic, looking casual and approachable as he used to in those long-ago days in Ember Island, as he never has since becoming Fire Lord. Not to her, at least. He takes a moment to blow out the candles with a flick of his wrist before he pads silently to the bed and climbs in. it’s a big enough bed to hold two people very comfortably but his arm brushes her shoulder. She shivers.
Zuko pauses and turns to look at her. “Are you cold?”
It’s a nonsensical question. She’s from the South Pole. Even in winter in Caldera, she never really feels cold. But Katara only hums in answer.
Zuko’s hand slides over her arm and around her to rest between her shoulder blades. She feels him draw her closer, not really exerting any pressure but gently encouraging so she can move forward if she wants to.
Don’t, her instincts cry at her. She ignores them.
She rolls over and puts her back to his chest. She feels him stiffen for a second and then one arm goes around her waist. Katara shifts a little so her head is on his other arm. There’s a breath of warm air on the back of her neck as he exhales on a sigh. Taking one final step of bravery, she curls one hand around the one near her stomach.
“Goodnight Katara.”
It’s a barely discernable murmur. It takes her a long time to reply. So long that he is asleep before she can sigh, “Goodnight.”
***
The rays of the sun have not reached his room yet but the sky is beginning to lighten and he can see Katara’s face. Normally, he would be up and meditating by now but he cannot tear his eyes away from the girl in his bed. She has turned over in her sleep and now lies on her back but his hand is still tightly curled in hers, as if she could not bear to let go. One long strand of her hair has fallen across her face and Zuko brushes it away with gentle fingers. There is a small frown on her brows, not even relaxed in sleep.
Zuko can feel his heart clench. He is not sure what is going on with Katara. He just knows that nothing he does seems to fix the strained look in her eyes. It breaks his heart. A month ago, she’d written him a letter asking if she could come and visit him. He’d known she and Aang had broken up and had inferred from a letter from Sokka that it had not gone well. But it hurts to see Katara’s ever-ready smile washed from her face.
It has been a long time since Katara has been so close, so not-completely-out-of-reach. Zuko can remember one occasion of waking up, feeling like death warmed over, and finding her across the pillow, her hand laid over his heart as if feeling it beat even in her sleep. She had awakened to find his eyes open and fallen over herself to hug him, to clutch him close. But after that day, there had existed a wall behind her eyes, even as she smiled at him. Even as she sat across from him at numerous conferences at numerous cities around the world. Katara had brought him back from death, kept him alive for days and hugged him as if her life depended on him. And then, she had promptly pushed him to arm’s length. So Zuko had melted back into the edges of her life, as she wished.
It had been an impulsive decision to invite her into his bed last night. He ought not to have done it. Not when Katara was so upset. Not when he felt like they were barely friends anymore. But she had looked so very unwilling to return to her room. And Zuko had known that loneliness had driven her to seek him out. He could not banish her to the solitude of her rooms again.
Her eyelashes flutter. Slowly, her eyelids peel back to reveal brilliant blue. Except it hasn’t been brilliant at all recently. For a few moments, she blinks up at him in a confused manner. Katara had never been the most coherent this early in the morning.
“Zuko.” He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget this feeling, the euphoria of having his name be the first thing she utters in the morning.
“Good morning.”
She lets go of his hand abruptly and sits up. Brushing her hair over her shoulder and still with her back to him, Katara mutters, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing your meditation and bending katas right now?”
“It’s alright. I’ll get to them. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Oh,” she flushes. “I’m sorry for disturbing your routine. I’ll go back to my room now.”
“No, Katara...” She doesn’t stop to listen as she rushes out of the room as if the fires of Agni are on her heels. Zuko falls back to the bed and rubs his hands over his face. He isn’t sure about what is going on with Katara and he wishes he didn’t always act like a fool where she is involved.
At breakfast, she is as cheerful as if nothing had ever happened. Zuko doesn’t buy it; he can clearly see that the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. He doesn’t think Uncle buys her act either but they let Katara act for her sake. Until she is ready to talk, he won’t say anything.
“Do you have time for me in the evening?” he asks her softly, once Uncle has excused himself from the room.
“Of course.” There is a hint of mockery to the words. Katara spends most of her time curled up in the library with the scrolls of poetry and plays that he has lent her or wondering around the city markets with a guard at her tail or bending in his mother’s garden. None of them are occupations that she cannot postpone. Zuko doesn’t care if she is making fun of his formal manners, it is the first hint of teasing he has encountered from her in a long while and it makes his heart race.
“Then I’ll meet you in the courtyard. Wear something light and not elaborate.”
She meets his eyes curiously but he only presses his lips together to hold back a smile. She will see what he has planned in the evening. He isn’t giving anything away.
It is worth it to see her expression when she sees his little sailing boat. There is a swift wind from the north and as the boat speeds over the waves, he watches her stand at the prow with her face upturned. Both the wind and the spray lash at her face. She only spreads her arms and lets out a laugh. Zuko’s heart speeds up. She turns excitedly and smiles at him. He smiles back. Her eyes are blazing, finally.
“Do you want to bend and see how much faster we can go?” He grins at her, feeling like a boy again. “Maybe we can circumnavigate the Fire Nation before we meet Uncle for dinner.”
“You exaggerate but I can bet you that my bending will be faster than the wind on the way back,” she laughs.
“The wind accepts your challenge, Master Katara. In a minute, I’ll steer the boat around and then we can see if you beat nature.”
“No! No, Zuko, not yet. Let’s go a little further. Please.”
Uncle will be waiting and he’s not supposed to be without his guards for too long and he still has to meet Chiyo before bed to discuss tomorrow’s dinner with his council. But he cannot say no to that plea.
When they return, Katara pauses at the sight of Mai standing on the palace steps, evidently waiting for them. The two girls exchange nods. They had never really gotten on friendly terms. Zuko cannot blame Mai for not warming up to Katara, not when his own relationship with her is so fractured. As he steps towards his ex-girlfriend, Katara slips away with a quiet murmur of being tired. It is a swift change in mood. They watch her walk away, Mai impassive and he worried, before his attention turns to other matters that he must discuss with Mai.
As an ex-girlfriend that he is on good terms with and a member of the Fire Nation nobility, Mai’s information has been invaluable to Zuko on numerous occasions. He knows that politics is not something she is interested in and indeed, it had been one of the main reasons for their break up. But Mai’s inscrutability makes her an admirable spy and he is always grateful for any information that she passes on. He invites her to stay for dinner but she declines.
Katara does not appear for the meal either.
But that night, she inches into his room again as if uncertain of the reception. He simply holds open the blankets for her to get in. He’ll reassure her as long as he needs to until she is never unsure of her place next to him.
***
Every morning, Katara slips out of Zuko’s room and promises herself that this evening she’ll refrain, she won’t bother him, she won’t depend on him to sleep. Every night, she breaks her promise. And it’s not that she is dependent on him exactly. She’ll be okay by herself. But Zuko is a temptation she doesn’t want to give up, no matter how much the logical part of her chants mistake, mistake, mistake.
His bed is the place that she can finally talk to him, about the state of things in their countries, about their lives, about their pasts. His bed is where she can shed her guilt for being upset over Aang, for not being upset enough over Aang. His bed is where she can wake up in the middle of the night and feel treasured in his arms.
No matter how much time she spends with him all day, it isn’t enough. He and Iroh will treat her to tea ceremonies in the gardens, Zuko will take her to the travelling circus that Ty Lee used to perform with and watch her as she gasps in awe at the acrobats, she’ll spend all afternoon in a chair in Zuko’s library with a full view of his desk as he works, and she’ll still be itching to curl up in his arms come nightfall. Something tells her that time is running out and she’ll soon be expected to leave. Zuko can’t afford to waste so much time just looking after her and he’ll need to get back to his duties properly soon. So she’ll snatch every moment she can now.
“Katara,” Zuko murmurs. She startles. Had he caught her staring? But he is just looking at her with a serious frown.
“Hmmm?”
“You helped set up the hospital at the Lower Ring at Ba Sing Se last year, didn’t you?”
She blinks. She’d been there with Aang certainly. She’d had some advice for the kind of wards that would be needed. She’s not really sure how much she helped or how much of her advice was heeded. She might know how to heal but she doesn’t really know anything about administration or financial matters. Neither does Aang, for that matter, but he is the Avatar. She’s not sure how to explain all this to Zuko though.
“I was there. Why?”
“I want to set up another hospital in Caldera City. The one we have is close to the palace, but it isn’t big enough to accommodate all the city’s needs. And unfortunately, when they’re full it’s always the poorer people who get turned away. I thought we should set up a second hospital in the city proper, with proper wards and everything.”
She chews her lip thoughtfully. “Do you want my help?”
His face clears. “I’d love some help. I have some ideas for where we can put it. There’s a block of armaments warehouses that were confiscated from an Ozai supporter and are lying empty.” His face barely twitches at his father’s name. “I want to go take a look tomorrow. Will you come with me? We can see where the wards can be set up and what kind of renovations will be needed.”
An excitement builds within her. It’s been a long time that she has been directly involved in a big project. She’d helped with the rebuilding of her tribe but that had been years ago. Since then it’s just been darting about from place to place on Appa. She’d never known how much of the Avatar’s duties in peacetime is merely formal appearances. And while Aang had tripped along from the groundbreaking for a school to a feast at a village elder’s house to arbitrating arguments, she’d never really had much to do.
“I’d like to help. Can we go in the morning? You’ll definitely need wards for emergency and for childcare and for childbirth. And you should have a good burn care unit and there should be a separate quarantine centre for infectious diseases and a general care unit for everyday stuff that needs treatment.” She watches as he smiles at her and begins to take notes. “And since you don’t want this hospital to be for the rich and the privileged, you could even start some kind of volunteering programme for caregivers to sign up for.”
He frowns. “Do you think it likely that people would?”
“I think it would surprise you how many people actually do care about doing the right thing,” she says thoughtfully.
He studies her in silence for a long time. “No, I don’t think it will surprise me that much.”
***
“Zuko, can I ask you something?”
It’s really quite late by his standards and he’s tired. But Katara has been opening up more nowadays while they lie curled up together and he doesn’t want to discourage her from saying anything. “You can ask me anything.”
“Why did...why didn’t you call us...when you found out about your mother?”
He squeezes his eyes shut. It’s been three years but the pain has never disappeared. He can still remember that day when he had come back from Omashu and his spy-mistress, Meiyo, had greeted him with the news.
“I didn’t see any point,” he says in a hollow voice. “What had happened had happened. And you were all busy and we had just met in Omashu. I knew if I wrote then you would all come rushing here.”
“Aang and I...”
“You had just gone to the colonies. Aang told me there were some complications. I couldn’t call him.”
“But...”
“I had Uncle and Toph here. I dealt with it. She had died years ago. There was nothing anyone could do.”
“I would have come if you sent one word, Zuko.”
He turns around and looks her in the eye. “Would you? You didn’t even look at me the whole time we were in Omashu.” It isn’t bitterness in his voice. Not really. Perhaps a certain hollowness. He’s never really been sure what he had done, what had happened, but Katara’s behaviour has cut him somewhere deep inside. She has never been rude. That wasn't Katara. But over the years, Zuko has found himself looking at her only to find her utterly preoccupied by something else. Even as she answered his questions, her eyes had been busy on her hands or looking across the room at Aang.
She swallows and looks away. “That’s not fair. You didn’t even give me the chance to come. You didn’t tell me.”
Zuko takes a deep breath. “You’re right. I wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry. I should have told you all.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She winds her fingers through his tunic and doesn’t look up at him again. Sometimes, it feels like she finds the physical intimacy of touching him in his bed more comfortable than opening up to him about anything. But no, she had brought up this topic herself. She had wanted to know him, his truths, his pain. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I made you feel like you could not depend on me, that I wasn’t a better friend. Will you forgive me?”
He sighs and rests his head on top of her head, tightening his arms around her. “There isn’t anything to forgive. I should have told you.” Somewhere along the way, their bond had frayed. There’s a curious fragility to their friendship now, a friendship he had thought so solid in those couple of months leading up to comet.
“Zuko, how are you now? I know I said it once, but I’m so very sorry about your mother.”
He doesn’t reply, simply holding her close. When Meiyo had greeted him with that grim face, he’d known. He thinks it was harder in a way to have hope snatched away that second time. He knows now that, try as he might, he’d never reconciled himself to his mother’s death. When Ozai had told him that she was alive, he’d believed him. Some part of him had been convinced that his mother was strong enough to survive. To learn that she’d died a year into her banishment had almost killed him. He’s not sure what he would have done had Uncle and Toph not been there to see him through that time.
Unbidden, the tears roll down his cheeks. When Katara shifts, he realises she’s felt them. He thinks she’s trying to move away but she nestles closer into him, as if she can crawl inside his body and give him comfort that way. Zuko grits his teeth to hold in a sob and presses his face into her hair. Her hands rub his back, gentle yet firm at the same time. She’s here for him now, this girl who is falling apart herself but is determined to hold him together. He could weep for her.
“It hurts. It hurts so much to know that I’ll never see her again. She left so abruptly and it was because of me and then she was just...gone.”
“I’m sorry, Zuko. I’m so sorry. I wish I could give her back to you.”
“I wish you could have your mother back too.”
She sniffles and then leans back to look at him. Tear tracks glow silver on her cheeks just as they must on his. “We’ll get through this, okay? Together. And if you ever need me again, call me.”
He brings up a hand to brush her cheeks. It just smudges the water more but she doesn’t seem to care. “And you, me.”
“Okay,” she murmurs.
“Okay.”
***
“This is for you.”
Zuko glances up at her in confusion, before registering the paper-wrapped little item she is holding out to him. Katara feels nervous. She had seen it in the shop and thought of him. But she has never given Zuko a gift before. Not really. Aang would bring him presents when they would come to visit and declare that they were from both of them, but Katara had not truly had a hand in any of it. She doesn’t even know if Zuko had liked Aang’s presents, little wooden figurines and pebbles and beads that they were.
“What is it?” he asks, looking confused.
“You’re supposed to open it to find out,” she replies with a laugh that sounds a little off to her.
Hesitantly, Zuko unwraps the paper and looks at the scroll that is revealed. Then he slips off the ribbon and unrolls it. His eyes widen as he takes in the artwork inside.
“You…you said your mother used to take you to watch plays, didn’t you? I thought this was pretty and that you would like it. I know that you already have a lot of…”
“Katara, this is beautiful,” he cuts off her stammers. His hands seem to tremble slightly as his eyes move over the story told in the scroll. It’s a love story, Katara had seen at a glance. A tragic one. “This must have been expensive!”
“I thought of you as soon as I saw it,” she said, drifting away to look out of the window so she isn’t left to awkwardly watch him read over it. “I know you don’t have this one. So I thought you might enjoy it.”
“Katara…”
“I wanted to give you something. And after our talk that night, I thought this would help you feel a little closer to your mother.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I wanted to.”
“Thank you, Katara.” And then he’s behind her, his arms going around her and his face pressing down into her hair. Her breath catches in her throat as her hands rise to curl around his. “It’s been a long while since I’ve been given something so precious.”
And oh, can she hold onto this moment forever? Can she hold onto him?
***
“I can go.”
The silence that follows her words makes her a little nervous, but she’s Katara. And she won’t back down when she is right. Zuko’s Council has come to regard her with some grudging approval in the month since she helped him draft a plan for the hospital that was actually acceptable to his Finance Minister. Some of them even smile and chat with her after the meetings that she has begun to attend semi-regularly.
It’s fascinating to watch how politics unfold in a different kind of atmosphere to home. Of course, the Southern Water Tribe has far fewer people than the Fire Nation and things are done differently. Still, Katara has even managed to pipe up with some suggestions that weren’t rejected out of hand. Now, however, everyone looks very sceptical. Even Iroh’s brows are furrowed.
“Master Katara, we don’t doubt your prowess as a waterbender but this is a flood. What can you do in this case?”
She refuses to let herself flush. She’s not a child! She’s not being stupid about this. “I do not intend to fight the river or stop the flood. I know I don’t have the power to do that. But I am a waterbender and a healer. I can help more than any other person you can send. I agree with you that the Fire Lord cannot go himself.” Zuko shoots her a sharp look. “But if you thought about this, you would see I would be the best person to help.”
“My Lady, if anything happened to you, your father Chief Hakoda would not forgive the Fire Nation.”
“My father knows I make my own decisions and I can take care of myself,” she says firmly. “Or have you forgotten who the Avatar’s first Master was?” There are some murmurs at this, but no one dares to say anything more. Katara raises her head to lock eyes with Zuko.
He sighs. “You’re sure about this?”
“Zuko, I can help.”
“Alright. Agni knows I can’t stop you. You can set out as soon as the ship full of provisions is ready.”
Outside the Council chamber, away from everyone’s eyes, he holds her like it is painful to let her go. Katara’s heart pounds and pounds and pounds. Holding her face in both hands and lifting her chin so her eyes are on his, he murmurs, “Promise me you’ll take no risks and come back to me.”
Her heart threatens to fly out of her chest and to him. Katara wants to hold on to him and beg him to explain to her what he wants from her. What is he thinking? What is he feeling? Why does he induce such conflict in her? But all she says is, “I promise.”
Runizi Island, like Caldera, has a giant crater where the main town is located. This makes the flooding even worse. It has been raining for four days and the river is bursting its banks. When Katara sees the first bloated body float by, she thinks she might be sick. She’s fought in a war and is a healer, but it never gets easier seeing death.
The rescue team look like they could cry when they see her. She spends most of the first day helping them excavate collapsed houses and shops and digging out the people buried underneath. Most are already dead. A few have survived by some miracle. Katara bends until her arms tremble, and then she goes into the makeshift hospital and bends some more. This is the nation that almost wiped out my own, she thinks as she sinks back onto her heels beside her last patient. These are the people who probably gossiped about the ‘Southern savages’ being put in their place. But an old woman weeps and kisses Katara’s hands as her son begins to breathe easily again, and she’s not sure what to do. She wonders how Aang does it. She wonders how he laughs and smiles with the Fire Nation people after what happened to his own. She wonders how complicit the people were in the atrocities of the royal family. But she’s so tired of death.
The rains stop the next day but there’s still work to be done and it’s two days before she returns to Caldera. It’s almost bedtime and only Chiyo is there to greet her and assure her that food and tea will be brought to her room at once.
But the door to her room is ajar and Zuko leans against the door to the balcony. Katara pauses as she looks at him, her breath coming quick. She’s not sure if he hears her or senses her presence as he turns. But in a moment, she’s lifted clean of her feet and into his arms.
“You’re home,” he sighs and her heart seizes at the words. She clutches his shoulders, his hair, her face buried in his neck. Zuko’s arms about her are a little too tight but it’s okay. It doesn’t matter. He’s here and she’s here and that’s all she cares about.
***
Zuko doesn’t startle when the hands come around from behind him to cover his eyes. She’s been admirably silent sneaking into the room and he would probably not have registered her presence had the whiff of honey and fresh sea air not surrounded him. He can feel his lips curl as he drops the papers in his hands and reaches up for her fingers.
“Hmmm, Uncle, is that you?”
Katara huffs a laugh in his ear and moves to curl her arms around him. She buries her face in the back of his neck, her warm breath chasing shivers down his spine. Zuko quietly slots his fingers through hers.
“You’re back early.” She’d gone to the hospital to check on the progress. She usually gets so caught up in her excitement there that he hadn’t expected her to return till just before dinner.
“The workers left early to prepare for the Spring festival tomorrow.”
“Well, Cook made seaprune stew and smoked fish for dinner tonight so I hope you’re hungry.”
She smiles. “He’s become much better at it since I gave him some of Gran-gran’s tips so I’m looking forward to it. He still doesn’t add enough salt though.”
Zuko groans. “Katara, any more salt will kill you. You need to stop with the salt.”
“Whatever, Grandpa.”
She’s in a good mood that night so it takes him by surprise when she begins to speak in a hesitant voice once they have lain down. “I broke up with Aang.”
He knows this, of course. And she must know that he knows. But Zuko only nods at her across the short expanse of pillow between them. Her hands are curled within his, lying on the bed between them. They are a mirror of each other’s position, facing one another under the light blankets.
She sighs. “I don’t think I’ve been happy in a while. I understand that he is the Avatar and he has important work to do. But recently, going along with him on his trips, I felt more and more like nothing I was doing was important. I didn’t want standing quietly beside Aang to be the only thing I had to contribute.”
“It’s not,” Zuko breaks in, unable to remain quiet. “You are so talented and clever and...you’re absolutely wonderful, Katara. You have so much to give to the world.”
Her cheeks flush red. “But he loved me so much,” she whispers dully.
“I’m sure he did. I’m sure he still does,” Zuko begins hesitantly. “But Katara, that’s not a reason to tie yourself to a relationship where you aren’t happy for the rest of your life. We’re all very young still. He’ll recover and you’ll get better and your friendship will be stronger in the future for having faced your truths.”
“I really hurt him.”
“You hurt yourself too.”
“That doesn’t matter. I broke up with Aang. My hurt is not important.”
“Your hurt is always important. If you were to force yourself to be with Aang just so he does not experience heartbreak, do you think he would be happy in the long run?”
“No,” she sighs, burrowing deeper into him so that he can barely hear her words. “I didn’t want to just be the Avatar’s girlfriend.”
Zuko makes himself pull back and look her in the eye, even though she makes that difficult by clinging to his sleep tunic. “Katara, I think of a thousand things when I see you and I promise that none of them is ‘the Avatar’s girlfriend’.”
She peeks up at him. “What things?”
“How brave you are, how strong you are, how stubborn you are.” He pokes her in the side once and watches as one side of her mouth tips into a reluctant smile. “How your hands are just as good at fighting and healing. How much compassion and empathy you hold, even when the other person doesn’t deserve it.” His voice dips. “Your glorious and very deserved anger when people act like shit. Your principles. Your little smile when you eat something sweet. The way you hold your head just a little bit higher when you want to intimidate someone taller than you. The way you comb your hair with your fingers...”
“Zuko...” She has suddenly pushed herself away from him and shot up to a sitting position. Without his knowing how it happened, she is sitting on the edge of his bed, as far away from him as possible, eyes wide, watching him like she doesn’t know who he is anymore. “I have to...I have to go.”
“No, Katara wait,” he’s pleading now, but he doesn’t care. This can’t end like this. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” And she’s gone.
Zuko falls back on the bed. He is so stupid, just like Azula always said. Because why would Katara want him? Because what has he got to offer her? Because what’s so loveable about him anyway?
***
Katara feels like she can’t breathe as she rushes into her room, slams her door shut and collapses to the floor. She puts her face in her hands and tries to still the rapid beats of her heart.
She’s not sure what to do with Zuko’s words. Push it away, says the logical side of Katara. He didn’t mean anything by it. But her heart! Oh, her heart is so easily pleased. It’s so hard to ignore. It always makes her jump in headfirst. And what if she is wrong? How can she withstand the hurt this time?
Zuko is absent from breakfast the next morning. His uncle says he is busy with preparations for the festival. She cannot help but feel he is avoiding her. Especially when she gets ready in the evening and steps out onto the courtyard to simply a muted smile. He’s surrounded by his court. He is the Fire Lord after all.
Katara usually enjoys festivals but she’d rather not be present at this one. She’d rather not make painful small talk with Zuko’s ministers. She’d rather not watch all the eligible women flock around the young Fire Lord. She’d rather not have to wrestle with all the feelings of hurt that rise whenever Zuko gazes across the courtyard at her but doesn’t approach.
At one point, Katara looks up from a stilted conversation with the Ba Sing Se ambassador and finds Mai standing beside Zuko. Their heads are bent together, and they seem to be discussing something very earnestly. Mai looks as beautiful and lethal as she always has, even with that perpetual look of boredom on her face that Katara just doesn’t understand. How can a person look like that around the man they love? How can there never be a smile on her face?
“Master Katara...are you quite well? You look very pale.”
“Pardon me, Ambassador Rin Feng. I have quite a headache. Do excuse me.”
“Certainly, Master Katara. Perhaps you should retire early. This will not continue much longer anyway. I have discovered Fire Nation parties do not last late into the night.” The man snorts. “Early risers, all of them.”
“I believe I shall,” she gives him a wan smile. “Thank you for your concern.”
She finds General Iroh to bid him farewell. She looks in the direction of his nephew. The back of his head is visible amidst the crowd around him. She turns and slips away, never seeing the pair of golden eyes sweeping the courtyard in search of her.
***
Zuko knocks on the door. He wishes he’d been able to get away a few hours earlier but the last of the guests had just left and it would not do for him to disappear before that. His thoughts have been far away ever since he hunted down Uncle to ask after Katara and had discovered that she had slipped out early because of a headache. It’s unlike Katara to leave without alerting him and his blood thrums anxiously under his skin.
He wonders if she’s asleep, if he should leave so as not to disturb her. The sight of his empty bed when he’d returned to his room had sent a pang through him. Maybe she’s become uncomfortable in his presence after last night. Maybe she doesn’t want to be around him anymore. Maybe she is even now planning her departure.
The door cracks open. Katara’s face is guarded. It doesn’t look like she has even been in bed, her clothes from the party still on. She frowns at the sight of him even though she must have known no one else would have knocked on her door at this time of the night.
Zuko feels his breath hitch in his panic. “Katara,” he rasps, before clearing his throat. “Uncle said you were unwell.”
“It was a headache,” she shakes her head slightly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? I would have...”
“What? Left your guests to babysit me? I’m fine!” She looks like she’s at the end of her tether. Zuko’s temper begins to fray as well. He takes a step into the room, closing the door behind him.
“What’s going on, Katara? Is this about last night? I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. I’ll never bring up such things again. We can ignore it.”
“Yes, you’re so good at ignoring stuff, aren’t you?” Her arms are crossed over her chest, she looks annoyed and defensive and Zuko has no idea what’s going on.
“What are you talking about?”
“I just don’t know what you want from me, Zuko!” It’s almost a scream. She’s blinking rapidly, as if tears are on the precipice. He steps back in alarm, even though all he wants to do is take her in his arms and soothe away every bit of hurt and anger and frustration that she’s feeling.
“I want whatever you want,” he whispers. He can’t make his voice work. “I just want you to be happy. Katara, you’ve been heartbroken all this time and I was just trying to make you smile, to show you how special you are. I didn’t mean anything...”
“There you go again,” she whispers, turning away from him. He can see how tense her shoulders are, how stiffly she’s holding herself. “If you didn’t mean anything then why did you have to say those things?”
“I...”
But she goes on as if she hasn’t heard. “On the day of the comet, you threw yourself in front of lightning to save my life. You almost died, you almost lost everything. For me! I didn’t know what to do! I was so scared you were going to die those first few days, just like my mother! I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t leave your side. But you woke up and I could barely look you in the eyes!”
“Katara...” he steps closer, but she continues.
“And then, on the day of your coronation, I went to your room to help you with your bandages and there was Mai, in your arms.” Her voice trembles. “Last night, you told me those things. And I’ve never had anyone say such things to me before. But today, you wouldn’t even come near me and there was Mai again. At your side, like she belonged there.”
His heart feels like it might just beat out of his chest. He aches with the need to hold her, to bundle her into his arms like he does every night. He’s become so familiar with the feeling now. Holding Katara feels like everything being right in the world.
“Zuko, I’ve been so confused about you for so long. About what I felt for you. Anger, longing, jealousy, heartbreak, I don’t even know anymore. But these last few days...I thought it meant something.” She turns now, eyes glossy. “I don’t know what you want from me anymore.”
***
In a few steps, Zuko is in front of her. His fingertips come up to brush under her eyes, warm, callused, strong. His eyes are fixed on hers, tender amber, something stirring in their depths. Something she’s seen before, aimed only at her, never properly identified. “It meant everything, Katara. Please don’t cry, love.” Her breath catches in her throat at the endearment that slips out so easily, like it was made for her. “Whatever you want from me, it’s yours. I’ve been yours for so long.”
She feels his thumb hesitate before it caresses her jaw and presses gently against her bottom lip. She examines his face and there is no uncertainty there. Slowly, she goes up on her toes and sets her lips on his.
He gasps against her mouth and his arms go around her to hold her tightly to him. Zuko tilts his head, slots their mouths together more firmly and kisses her with a desperation neither of them has ever experienced before. Katara has been kissed prior to this. But never like this, never so ardently. Like their bodies were made to melt into each other. Like they are drowning in each other and that’s all that matters. Like she’s something precious that might be snatched away soon. She curls her hands in his collar, in his hair, pulling him closer and anchoring herself to him. She’s surrounded by Zuko, the sunshine and jasmine scent of his hair, the warmth of his body, the sound of his gasps.
But finally, they have to break away. He doesn’t move far, keeping her in his arms, his forehead against hers, eyes connected. “Mai and I broke up more than two years ago, Katara.” She knows that, of course. But somehow she’s never really thought it was the end. They’d always seemed to be on such good terms. How could it be the end? “And I never felt for her a fraction of what I feel for you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question trembles in the air between them.
“You were with Aang. You two seemed so happy then. And you had pulled away from me. I was sure you’d never feel the same. So I wouldn’t bother you with my feelings.”
“I was scared,” she murmurs. “You’re so intense, Zuko. You almost died because of me and it frightened me. What I was feeling frightened me. And Aang loved me. I thought...I thought I’d just get over it if I was away from you and everything would be fine.”
“I didn’t almost die because of you. I almost died because of Azula. She and I made the choices that we did. You saved me. You kept me alive. I think I’ve loved you since then even if I didn’t realise it until later.”
She shivers against him at the words. “When did you know?”
“When we met in Ba Sing Se again, months after the war. I had missed you like it was a physical ache. And then, there you were at the palace once I got out of the carriage. Your eyes met mine once and I wanted to ignore everyone else there and sweep you into my arms. You looked away so quickly, I thought...I thought you saw something in me that upset you.”
“No, Zuko,” she sighs. “It was me. I saw you and I wanted to both fly into your arms and run as far from you as I could. I was horrified at myself, because Mai and Aang were right there. So I didn’t look at you. I barely talked to you. I stopped writing to you. And I was happy with Aang then, to an extent. But I was so stupid to think I could ignore this and it would just go away.”
He shakes his head. “We were both stupid then. It doesn’t matter. We were children.”
She leans up again, pressing her mouth to his, again and again, soft kisses deepening to more as Zuko opens his mouth and sucks against her bottom lip, his tongue flicking against hers. And suddenly, Katara needs to feel him against her, closer, his skin against hers, his arms holding her so tight that she cannot distinguish between his flesh and hers.
Zuko moans as she rips open his formal robes, his hands sliding down her sides to the tie at her waist, quick fingers working open the knot there. She shoves his outer robe over his shoulder and begins unlacing his inner tunic. Zuko’s left hand trails softly up her body, between her breasts, along her neck. He breaks away from her as his hand clutches the back of her neck, golden eyes searching hers for she knows not what.
Whether he gets permission from whatever he sees in her face or from her pulling his tunic off and leaving him bare-chested, she does not know. At any rate, Zuko pushes open her own navy robes and drops them on the ground. Dressed only in her wrappings, Katara stands before him, trying to look as bold and confident as she can. She gasps as Zuko reaches down to grip her thighs and pull her up against him. Instinctively, Katara wraps her legs around his waist as he turns around to fall back on the bed, Katara over him.
His eyes glow up at her in joy. She’s never seen Zuko look this happy. To know that she is the cause of all of it sends her heart thumping so fast, Katara wonders if she might faint. To hide that feeling, she bends down to press her nose into the crook of his neck and inhale the scent of him. She wants him to leave that scent all over her, buried deep in her skin, so she can smell him even when he’s not beside her anymore.
Zuko turns his head to lick the curve of her ear and she shivers. Without a word, she leans down to kiss him again, to drown herself in the feeling of him, her fingers pressing into his shoulders, trailing over his arms and chest, stroking the characters of her name and his into his back as he turns them over and hovers above her. His eyes ask her a question and her eyes cry back yes, yes, yes.
***
Afterward, Zuko attempts to move and Katara finds herself clutching him closer. “Don’t leave me,” she cries, terrified of being alone in this, of having to let him go when she had just begun to accept the possibility that she could truly have him.
“I’m not,” he murmurs against her forehead. “I’m not going to leave. Not ever. Not unless you want me to.”
“That’s a big promise to make,” she says hoarsely. Can she believe it?
“It’s the easiest promise I’ve ever made,” he smiles at her, reaching up to caress her cheek and brush the sticky strands of hair away from her face. “I’ll prove it to you.”
She pushes herself into him, deeper in his chest and murmurs the words into his skin. “I love you, Zuko.” The world doesn’t implode. Her heart doesn’t burst. He doesn’t draw away. Instead, he pulls her in closer. “I have for years. But I don’t know why I couldn’t say it. It just seemed safer to hide away from it, from you. Because what if I said it and you didn’t feel the same? I wouldn’t have been able to bear it. It was better to stay away and not to know.” She trembles. “I’m sorry I wasn’t braver.”
“I wasn’t either,” he replies, pressing kisses into the top of her head. “I pretended with Mai for years, knowing well enough that I loved you. I was scared too. But what matters is that we found each other. And I’m not letting go, Katara. I won’t.”
Katara is silent for a long moment, digesting this declaration. Her heart feels like it is running away from her so it can join his under his skin. Finally, she snuggles down to sleep and only says, “I love you.” It’s astonishingly easy to say now. Now that she has already said it once, now that it’s out in the open. Now that he really is hers.
***
Zuko marries Katara on a bright spring day. It is a large and grand wedding and all their friends and family attend. Even Aang comes by for the feast, although he is not present at the actual ceremony. It has been a couple of years since his and Katara’s break-up and the Avatar has moved on. But he does not always find it easy to see how radiant Zuko makes Katara look.
The bride drifts around in her blue and red robes, laughing with Toph, hugging her father and brother, smiling at General Iroh. But at regular intervals she comes back to Zuko and brushes their fingers together as if to confirm that they really are married. He wants to preserve that wondrous look in her eyes forever. And he will. He will do whatever is necessary to keep her wreathed in smiles.
Katara smiles at him as he reaches up to adjust her elaborate headdress. She smiles as he loads up her plate with sweet treats. She smiles at him as he slips his hand in hers and pulls her closer to kiss her cheek. And as darkness falls and the people grow more and more excited for the fireworks display that has been planned, Katara smiles as she holds his hand and silently draws him away to their rooms, leaving their cheery guests behind so they can begin the rest of their lives. Together.