Work Text:
Pain was a familiar sensation for Zuko. He had felt it in the form of hits and burns and broken bones, by ice and fire and lightning. He had felt it in the suffocating longing for someone he might never see again, in the yearning for an affection he could never get, in the remorse for the betrayal of the one that stood by his side, and in his bitter fight against himself.
But never before, not even with the lightning his father threw at him, had he felt anything like this: pure electricity that instead of redirecting itself and exiting through the tips of his fingers, stayed to burn his veins, bruising his organs and leaving behind a wound from which his life slipped away as his old family fought against the new.
He closed his eyes, and there were swirls of blue tattooed under his eyelids.
I just need to know if she survived, if she's okay… then I can die. He fought to stay focused, clinging to his awareness with the resistance of an autumn leaf holding onto a branch.
His hand reached out, cursing his weakness, his arrogance, the moment he had asked her to accompany him into the heart of the Fire Nation on the most dangerous day possible.
Katara ran, pursued by blue flames. And he couldn't do anything to help her.
Zuko creaked under the inexorable pressure of a darkness that engulfed him whole, smothering his last anguished thoughts.
*
He didn't think that darkness would dissipate, but it did. He opened his eyes to find a victory, the one that mattered most: Katara was alive.
"Thank you," he tried to smile over the pain that felt as if the lightning still reverberated in his bones, attacking from within.
"I'm the one who should be thanking you," she replied with tears in her eyes as she helped him to his feet.
*
Even under Katara's care, he continued to cough up blood for the first few days after the Agni Kai; lungs bruised from the heat, they told him. He memorized that new kind of pain, one that tasted like metal on his tongue and shook him in spasms that bent him in half. Along with that, he also learned to associate Katara with the balm that always soothed pain; the refreshing relief she poured from her hands, covered in softly shimmering water, and spread throughout his body until the pain subsided to an uncomfortable throb.
By the day of his coronation, he was already recovered and with no obvious sign of the fight other than the star-shaped scar on his chest. Standing side by side with his friends —his family— he announced to the entire world that the war was finally over.
*
Life went on, as tumultuous and unexpected as ever. But that was normal. The months slipped by in quick succession between meetings, decrees and endless talks that would hopefully improve the situation of the people, not only in his nation, but around the world.
He was afraid of being lonely when everyone returned to their respective responsibilities, but there was often someone who stayed at the palace during the first year. Katara, at least, came on three different occasions, with the excuse of examining the evolution of his injuries. And she stayed there for several days each time, returning once more for the first anniversary of the end of the war.
*
The party was planned to receive leaders and citizens from all over the world. People wanted to celebrate, after a hundred years of war and several decades without dancing. So on that first anniversary, Aang and some old people that remembered taught the forgotten moves, and everyone else followed suit. Even the Fire Lord.
*
When Katara danced, he noticed it. She flowed with the elegance of her element, with the energy of his; she danced with diplomats from other nations, with friends, with him, and she smiled. Cautiously, he smiled back and a knot around his heart tightened a little more each time.
He never said anything. He didn't know how to put it into words, and he was content to enjoy her company until he found a way to tell her…
*
Weeks later, during an incognito visit around town, he found a fire opal displayed on a market stall. He bought it immediately, with a hazy idea of a design to carve in stone, and of skin it could shimmer on. Perhaps he would have to take classes with the master craftsman of the Palace.
**
Katara had learned from a very young age that if she didn't want her world to come crashing down, she had to do what was needed of her. Put those duties, everything that no one else seemed to be able to do, before her own desires. Things like caring for her brother and the tribe, preserving and cooking food, mending clothes, ignoring her own pain to tend to others.
With the iceberg incident, her life took a sharp turn on its axis. Though the duties remained, only slightly changed: she now needed to follow the Avatar in a desperate race against time, and in the process, keep them all fed, safe, and clothed.
She traveled the world, always delivering. She protected the Avatar, who was now her friend and not just a legendary figure. She made sure they weren’t caught, and she took it upon herself to prevent another betrayal by the newcomer who had already betrayed them once before.
And then, in one of the most desperate moments of her life (which was saying something, being a friend of the Avatar), she fought to save the life of this traitor-turned-friend who knew her best, and ensure peace for the world after he nearly died protecting her.
*
The war was over, at last. Her world was so much bigger than when she was just a child that had never left her tribe. She looked, and she saw many things that needed to be done. The world needed a waterbender to rebuild the South Pole, a healer for the wounded, an ambassador to smooth over the rifts between the factions. The world needed all of that, and yet what the world wanted was a prize for the Avatar, something he had earned for saving them all.
And she was the only prize the Avatar wanted.
*
She waited for a sign, any sign saying that someone else would offer support in making her own decisions. She waited in vain; it seemed perfectly logical to everyone (including her family) that she would end up in a relationship with Aang. Except for him, Zuko, who never seemed to assume anything about it. But neither did he say anything against it.
*
For just over two years after the war, she avoided making a decision. The immediate celebration in the Fire Nation, the first anniversary in the Earth Kingdom and the second in the North Pole. They were years of wear and tear, of whispers in the streets, of scarcely veiled hints told to her face... Who would say no to the Avatar? He’s the most powerful master of the elements. Look at that, I envy the way he looks at the girl from the South Pole.
Katara gave up. She let Aang take her hand, and she could barely respond with a lukewarm smile at the blinding happiness in the Avatar's face.
Try as she might, she couldn't quite eradicate the wish that the eyes staring back at her were gold instead of gray.
She preferred not to think about what that meant.
**
The Fire Nation would host the celebrations of the third anniversary of the end of the war. For Zuko, it represented the best season of the year, because he would be able to see his friends, and this year in his own country.
Appa landed and all his fellow adventurers descended from him. He got Aang's old-fashioned greeting, Toph's punch, Sokka's handshake, and, finally, Katara's hug. But when he, with great difficulty, let go of her, he saw her take the Avatar's hand. For an instant, his throat closed. The obstruction disappeared with the words of welcome to his friends.
His throat felt a little scratchy again later, during the ceremony. Aang made his way to the gathering, holding hands with Katara.
He had taken too long to find the words.
His chance had passed.
That night, in the privacy of his chambers, he held the brooch carved from a fire opal. Its coldness seared his skin with a new kind of pain.
**
Now that she was "officially" with the Avatar, she began to accompany him at all times, anywhere his duties demanded it. She left behind the South Pole, where her brother and father led a new life without war. In the months they had been together on Appa's back, she had looked forward to the journeys and the effect that Aang's presence had wherever they landed.
But she was growing a little tired. The celebrations in the Fire Nation came as a blessing; she would have some free time, see her other friends and spend several days in a familiar environment.
The next afternoon, Aang was busy with the people of the Fire Nation; Katara stayed at the palace, which she toured with the map of her memories.
Near sunset, she found Zuko in the garden, by the pond. She splashed him from afar, which quickly escalated into a sparring session. The greatest rush of exhilaration she had felt in a long, long time.
They ended up exhausted, laughing and hugging each other's shoulders despite the sweat. Katara looked up into his smiling face and was filled with a sudden desire to kiss him.
When their eyes met, he seemed to invite her closer, intensifying her impulse. Instead, she pulled away from him with a pang of guilt. She was with the Avatar now. She needed to build defenses against the warmth he caused her, no matter how much she wanted to give in to those feelings.
She would do what was needed of her.
**
A few (too many and at the same time, too few) days later, Zuko sent them off with the same heavy feeling he had every time his friends left. The last look Katara gave him seemed a little lackluster, her smile a little absent. A void of terror settled in his stomach as he watched them leave, Sokka waving both arms from atop Appa’s saddle.
He made it back to his room before starting to cough. He reached for a glass of water and took several gulps. Something struggled to come out of his throat, he felt it reach his tongue, and carefully picked it.
There was a small blue flower between his fingers.
**
A mission involving the Fire Sages and Avatar Roku brought her, along with Aang, back to the Fire Nation and its capital much sooner than she had expected.
Strangely, the room in the Fire Palace they always assigned to her (always the same on each visit) was where she felt closest to being home, even more so than the new buildings of the South Pole. When she had stayed there to take care of Zuko, she had asked for blue tapestries and despite the time that had passed, they still hadn't changed it at all. It was an unexpected anchor in the ever-changing life of accompanying a nomad.
Maybe she was too attached, as Aang would say. It wouldn't be enough to keep her distance from Zuko, it would take spreading out her visits to the palace to let go of that attachment.
She set off again to rejoin a routine that she was already familiar with. Travel the world alongside Aang. Almost like an ornament, silently reproached the fire within her that was dissatisfied with how little she accomplished like that. She was more, she could be more than just the Avatar's girl.
Why wasn’t anyone able to see it?
Katara hid those thoughts behind a perpetual smile, and she asked Aang where they would go next. She had to prepare the provisions and see where they would stay.
But sometimes, she just wanted to be anywhere he wasn't.
**
The first rumors that something was wrong with the Fire Lord’s health were already circulating among the servants. Zuko did his best to appear strong in public and deny the gossip. So far, he had managed it with some success, and the people outside the palace did not believe his apparent ‘illness’.
Katara visited the palace less, possibly busy saving the world along with Aang. On one hand, that was good. His condition was getting worse and there were terrible days; if she were to examine him the way she used to in the two years after the Agni Kai, she would find out right away that there was something wrong.
To his great consolation, the letters still arrived. Not always in order, she sometimes wrote from far away before and from closer after, and the last letter arrived before the first. All the parchments were stored in a locked wooden chest.
It made it almost bearable having to sneak several handfuls of flowers each day, to hide them under a hedge in the garden.
**
She received news of her tribe through a sailor from the South. Chief Hakoda was about to start a project to rebuild the ancient capital of the Southern Water Tribe. She told Aang, pleaded about the importance of the project and the help she could give, and got a few months to return to her people.
She would help with the buildings and collaborate with waterbenders from the North! It was another facet of waterbending that she fervently wanted to explore.
Aang decided to accompany her. Just a few days after her arrival, King Kuei requested the Avatar's presence, who was unable to refuse.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised her with a kiss, a minute before Appa took off in the direction of Ba Sing Se.
"Take as long as you need," Katara replied with a smile that was perhaps too big for a goodbye.
She tried not to think about the relief she felt seeing him recede into the horizon.
*
Too soon, Aang returned and Katara left the South Pole with him.
**
Ice lotus. He’d found the illustration of both the flower and of its thorny stems in an old, obscure treaty of world plants. They didn’t grow naturally anywhere in the Fire Nation.
Except inside him.
Every night, he looked at the flowers that had started coming by the fistful. The whole flower was barely bigger than his fingernail; its long, soft petals, white towards the center and so deeply blue towards the edges, ended in a small pointy tip.
How could something so beautiful hurt so much?
*
There were little tricks that diminished the symptoms and avoided suspicion. Hot drinks and thick soups helped with the pain and prevented the worst coughing fits. At least, those slowed them down long enough to suffer in private, so that no one else would see the flowers.
*
Every time he received a letter written from Katara's hand, his breathing became easier. The paragraphs flew before his eyes, and even rereading them on the nights of the worst crises facilitated the entry of air into his lungs. It was the only thing that allowed him to maintain some semblance of strength during Uncle Iroh’s visit, who ended up returning to Ba Sing Se without suspecting a thing.
Except the last look he gave to Zuko before he left made him think that maybe he hadn't completely fooled him.
**
She was willing to give her life for the Avatar. She had almost done it a couple of times, both during the war and after. But giving her life to the Avatar was becoming a nightmare.
She was invisible next to him. It was selfish, she knew, wanting to be recognized even next to the undisputed hero of the war. It would be bearable, if it weren't for the constant moves, the endless current of invisible responsibilities that fell on her, and for the almost nonexistent time she got for herself in exchange.
In one of the many inns where they spent a few nights (she no longer even remembered where in the Earth Kingdom they were staying at the time), she sat in front of the table with a brush in her hand. Her first letter would go to the Fire Nation.
She hesitated as she wrote the first character, a drop of ink staining the otherwise pristine paper. She had to be careful, or her unhappiness would seep into the ink of her letters, into the gaps between the lines.
She wouldn't mention the weariness of always sleeping on Appa’s saddle, the longing for a home to call her own, or a familiar hearth to cook over instead of a temporary fire in a different place every night. She, too, would avoid talking about the hours Aang spent basking in the attention of his fans instead of helping her plan the next leg of the journey, which was happening that very moment.
So she made a deliberate effort to start with the good parts, saying just how nice it was to go with Aang around the world.
*
With each letter, it got more and more difficult, so she began to write less. Both to the Fire Nation and to the South Pole.
**
Rumors were becoming difficult to suppress. Within a few months, the number of flowers increased until he had to spend a couple of hours each night in fits of coughing that left him weakened and exhausted. That, in turn, made it difficult to bring the flowers into the garden, where they were already beginning to become impossible for the palace gardeners to ignore.
Instead, night after night, his trembling hands summoned a small curtain of fire to consume the petals.
Sometimes, he thought he saw Katara’s silhouette dancing in the flames.
*
There were more branches growing inside his throat. He had new shirts made, with higher necks that hid the swelling under folds of cloth. It was difficult to eat. He hadn't trained in weeks, he lost his breath easily. And seeing him in that state would only pave the way for those who wanted to take advantage of his debilitated condition.
The whispers about it were already running through the entire palace, and he was sure that someone had tipped off his Uncle, who arrived for another visit earlier than he usually did. He seemed suspicious, though he still wasn't openly confronting him and seemed only to be watching him intently, always looking for an excuse to extend his stay at the palace.
*
Katara's letters were getting more and more sporadic. Whenever she mentioned Aang, he felt the branches blossom in his throat along with the despair in his chest. Those mentions of the Avatar became so ubiquitous that the letters lost all their positive effect. Instead, each one seemed to cause a new stem to appear in his throat.
Among the heat of burnt petals, he began to feel the weight of his situation, the danger implied by the continuous advancement of the disease. But Katara seemed so happy in her letters, without him. He couldn't, he wouldn't ruin what she had built for herself, even if his life depended on it.
It wouldn't be the first time he had almost given his life for a cause he believed in.
**
Worrying rumors circulated about the Fire Lord's mysterious illness. They had already heard them in the last five villages where they landed. Even Aang seemed to start to worry, despite his invariable declarations that Zuko's health was excellent.
As usual, on that visit too she was sidelined from the discussions in favor of healing the ones who needed it. Not that she considered it an inferior task, but she believed she could contribute in the meetings. They could have waited for her to finish the most urgent healing sessions to start...
But they didn't, as usual.
With a resigned sigh, she raised the glowing water again, to apply it to the lungs of a man still suffering the consequences of the smoke Ozai's army produced the day of the comet. The last time she had visited the North Pole with Aang, even Master Yagoda was surprised at Katara's knowledge of the internal injuries in the torso. Lungs, throat, heart. All of this she had perfected by taking care of Zuko that first year after the war.
What if Zuko was actually sick?
She should go see for herself. The healing techniques of waterbending had different diagnostic methods than traditional healers, she could help… But she wasn't sure she had the strength to keep her secret if she saw him face to face. And she was what the world wanted her to be. She couldn't afford to let the world down.
*
At night, when Aang was asleep, she looked at the moon and asked Yue to watch over Zuko.
**
He hadn't seen Katara in over seven months. And the new anniversary of the end of the war was approaching, inexorably. He needed a solution, and the inspiration came a few days after the unexpected arrival of Uncle Iroh.
To execute his plan, he chose a morning when his Uncle had gone out to the city. Hopefully, upon his return, he would find Zuko a little better.
He knew the signature move of the Dragon of the West. Of course, it involved tea, which he prepared carefully and as hot as he could bear to drink it. He took a long drink and breathed in as deeply as his clogged throat would allow. He summoned the presence of fire from his chest, hoping it would burn the branches and flowers as they passed.
His Uncle found him curled up on the garden floor, clutching his throat in agony.
He immediately helped him to his feet, gave him lukewarm tea to drink, and stood beside him as he caught his breath through the searing pain of each inhalation. Uncle Iroh was no fool, and he immediately understood what Zuko had been trying to do, the condition he was trying to remedy. He looked at him with deep sadness.
"You're trying to use fire to kill something that feeds on your heart," he said once the worst of it was over. “That is not how it works.”
Zuko nodded. He should have known it wouldn't be that simple, it never was.
"Forgive me, nephew. I failed, I left you alone…” Uncle Iroh hugged him with tears in his eyes. Zuko wanted to answer, but his ripped throat refused to make a sound. “Please, consider telling her about this. She might be with the Avatar, but she will hear you out. It could save your life.”
Zuko didn’t ask how Uncle Iroh knew who was the one behind the disease, but shook his head.
“I can’t, Uncle. She’s happy and she deserves it. I won’t ruin it.”
There was not a wealth of other options. Although Uncle Iroh had another suggestion, one that involved several risks. Every deal with the Spirit World involved them.
Still, he mentioned it to his nephew; there was a spirit. The symbol for their name came into his hands during his quest for peace of mind after the death of his son Lu Ten, but the pronunciation had been lost since the time the Lion Turtles still roamed free around the world.
“There is a way. A way to get rid of the branches. Burn this symbol on a new moon night... the spirit will come and take the flowers away.”
Iroh knew that well. They came when he called, many years ago.
“In exchange for what?” Zuko was weak and haggard, yet still with his guard up. Politics had made his nephew cautious and he felt a deep sadness for having immersed him in that world, full of monsters with two agendas and even more masks.
“For your feelings for the person. All feelings,” he clarified.
After that, he left Zuko so he could think about it.
Not only the unrequited love was going to disappear. Gratitude, companionship, trust would also be gone. All of that was inseparable, woven into the very fabric of their relationship and their time together. It made sense, he realized. How could he let go of the love, while leaving inside him all the reasons that had caused it in the first place?
Would at least the memories remain? It was impossible to imagine it. How could he remember the moment she faced her mother's killer, and not admire her strength? To remember her leaning over him, stabilizing his wound after the Agni Kai, and not be filled with gratitude?
At the thought of losing what he felt the afternoon they returned after facing Yon Rha, when she forgave him and hugged him, he felt weak. He had already given up so much for his nation.
But somehow, he had another impossible decision to make. He had to choose between his life, or the most valuable thing he had.
**
She had been dreading this moment for a couple of months now. The one-year anniversary of their relationship was approaching, and Aang was especially attentive, cooperating for as long as his tolerance for frustration allowed. When dealing with housework, it was rather low.
Katara was grateful for those efforts, really, though she felt a little awkward too. But it was hard to be away from him when they were traveling together and spending so many hours in so little space, on Appa’s saddle.
One morning, he decided to take the ‘scenic route’, which Katara agreed to, trying to smooth out her frown and mentally making the adjustments to the rations she would need to make to compensate for the extra day of travel.
They stopped for lunch and walked down a hill; Katara felt cold when he pulled something out of his pocket.
A betrothal necklace, like the ones from the North, but yellow and with a longer ribbon… She barely heard the words that gave finality to her destiny as the wife of the Avatar, the future mother of an entire culture of which he would be the father.
With a vacant smile, she accepted Aang's marriage proposal, and when he fastened the new necklace around her, it felt like a chain binding her with the weight of the entire world.
*
A few days later, as soon as they arrived in the city, he announced to the world the news of their future union.
**
One night, a letter arrived from Aang, which was unusual enough to catch his attention. Once he read it, he understood why.
That letter announced the Avatar’s wedding.
The instant Zuko realized what that meant, he began coughing up flowers in a never-ending cascade, in his strongest attack yet. The lack of air made black spots appear in his vision; he lost consciousness, only to wake up to the incongruous aroma, sweet and metallic, of blue flowers with red drops on their petals.
He hadn't realized the hope that was still nested in his chest until it was uprooted so abruptly. An icy hole remained where that hope had been.
Through the window, he looked at the sky and asked Agni for strength. If he survived the wedding, he would accept his Uncle's help, with all the consequences. If he didn't… he was confident that the nation would find a new leader for times of peace.
He was so tired. For once, he wanted to give up the fighting.
**
Aang seemed to be in a hurry to perform the ceremony. Katara… wasn’t.
But preparing the event gave her the excuse to settle in the South Pole for several months, to get everything ready. Because it wouldn’t be only the Avatar's wedding, it would be combined with the celebrations for the anniversary of the end of the war. This time, instead of the North Pole, it would be held at the South Pole, inside the new buildings she had helped with.
Her tribe was barely recognizable; it had changed so much in the four years since she had left after finding Aang in an iceberg, and the only familiar parts were the people.
Her family welcomed her with joy, and just a day later, she was caught up in the whirlwind of preparations: planning the banquet and building new igloos to house the visitors, never before had so many people visited the South Pole. But most of all, she would prepare her wedding attire and everything she would take with her once she set out again with Aang.
He, who couldn't afford to stay in one place for so long, helped as much as he could on the days he stayed. Then, he set off to attend to his responsibilities.
Katara stayed behind, worrying about how he would manage to travel if she wasn't there to fix everyday things, and dreading the day the fate the world had bestowed upon her would be sealed forever.
**
After the news of the Avatar's wedding, the reaction of the royalty didn’t delay. The entire court appointed a spokesperson once all other business for the meeting had been resolved.
“Even the Avatar is about to marry. You should start thinking about taking a wife and having an heir, to ensure the stability of the throne… There is a list of the most promising alliances with other nations.”
"No," Zuko stated, louder than he had thought himself capable of in weeks.
"But Sir, you must understand, people in the city are saying…" the spokesman tried again
Sure, he knew about the rumors. The Fire Lord, weak, sick, and without heirs. The eagle-vultures were already preparing to fight over his corpse.
“No. It's my last word. I don't want to hear any more about this.” He walked out of the meeting room with firm steps. Anger gave him strength, as it had the day his father had banished him.
He barely made it to the tea room he shared with his Uncle before collapsing in a coughing fit that plunged him into darkness.
He opened his eyes again to find his Uncle propping him up against the wall. He tried to thank him, but he couldn't focus on anything other than breathing.
He took with trembling hands the cup of mild tea his Uncle offered. One sip, another one. He took as deep a breath as he could and the black dots slowly disappeared from his vision.
"I'm fine, Uncle. I truly am.” He got up ignoring the hand that offered help. The ground around him was covered in blue petals. “I'm better now.”
Uncle Iroh looked at him with a pain that Zuko preferred not to acknowledge. They both knew it was a lie.
"Remember my suggestion." His Uncle let the sentence hang in the air. “Soon, or it won't be effective anymore.”
"I know." He wiped the drop of blood from the corner of his lips. “After the wedding passes, I promise.”
He gave the first step towards the door with a slight tremor that took two more steps to subside.
Iroh feared that by now it was too late to do anything about it.
**
Aang had visited the South Pole without warning, on a whim, and found Katara working on the tanning and embroidery for her wedding attire.
"Can't you put more yellow beads on the dress?" Aang was critically examining the progress of the gown, with all the furs dyed in red and ochre tones.
"Blue is the traditional color." The only one who dared to speak was Katara. The other women working on the dress simply reached for the jar of yellow beads again.
"But yellow is the color of Air Nomads," he complained. “There will be more Water Tribe weddings in blue embroidered dresses, but no more weddings in the yellow and orange robes of the Air Nomads.”
But I am the only waterbender in the South Pole! The next wedding like mine will still take a long time...
Instead of voicing those thoughts, she nodded in acceptance; for over a year, she had practiced giving in to Aang’s every demand. The other women of the tribe had already resumed the embroidery, adjusting the motif to the colors requested by the Avatar.
"Thank you." He looked at her with bright eyes and placed a kiss on her cheek before visiting the other organizers.
He departed a few hours later, leaving Katara with a list of modifications for the banquet (the main course was to be vegetarian) and the ceremony (there would be two hundred more guests than he had said last time).
Where was she going to get fresh fruit, given how long the boats took to arrive there and how expensive the products were? And the time to build the extra igloos? Before he left, Aang had built two, which would hold eight or ten people at the most…
She was so caught up in her exasperation that she almost missed Toph’s shouted greeting.
“Damn Sugar Queen, you’re frowning so bad I can see it from here,” she laughed, pointing to the shoes she only wore during her visits to the South Pole, special ones with the thinnest possible soles. “I can take care of the fruit thing.”
Katara tried to smile. Toph crossed her arms, a thoughtful expression appearing in her face.
“I’m sure my father told me about a merchant who delivered fresh fruit to some rich person in the middle of the Si Wong desert…”
“Thanks, but I don’t think the South Pole qualifies as ‘rich’,” Katara smirked at Toph’s usual arm punch.
“Oh, that’s on me,” Toph waved it off. “As a wedding gift, you know. So don’t be so mad about it, ok?”
Katara opened her mouth, trying to find the words to explain that it was something deeper than just getting the fruits, but Sokka interrupted the attempt.
“Toph! I’m so happy you could come early!”
Katara rolled her eyes as her brother lifted Toph and kissed her before placing her back on the floor.
Finally, Sokka turned to her, one of his hands never leaving Toph’s.
“Oops, your new schedule got a little crunched,” he handed Katara some papers, indeed crunched after his greeting to Toph. “I’ve improved it!”
Katara skimmed over the pages. Sokka’s ‘improved schedule’ even allowed time to eat (once a day) and sleep (five hours a day, six hours once a week).
“Thanks,” said Katara, with a tired smile.
Fortunately, after that episode (and after arranging a room for Toph) Gran Gran stepped forward and took charge of everything that didn’t involve waterbending, which only Katara herself could do.
The change of season made the more muddy spaces along the coastline bloom in blue. She had no time to visit the place much— not that she ever had the luxury of time to enjoy the flowers, but this time she was glad. The unusually cold season encased the ice lotuses under a thick layer of ice. Not all of the blooms made it.
Her wedding loomed over her just like a fresh layer of snow, crushing her under its weight.
There were less than two months left for the big day.
**
A delegation embarked in the direction of the South Pole. Throughout the journey, a faint smell of burning and a thin layer of ash adorned the Fire Lord's fingers. Throwing buckets of flowers overboard would attract too much attention.
They took land (or ice) a day ahead of the wedding day. Zuko blamed his lack of voice and general weakness on the cold.
“Nonsense! It’s not even winter!” Toph protested with a jesting smile.
Her joke fell flat while Sokka looked at him skeptically; he remembered him in the prison of Boiling Rock, capable of breathing fire in a cold as frigid as that of the South Pole’s harsh winter. Zuko remembered it too, but firebending came from breathing, and he was running out of air.
He was only able to exchange perfunctory greetings with the happy couple. Both of them seemed to be always busy with other dignitaries and a thousand other matters concerning the ceremony.
Zuko went to bed early, leaving the rest of his friends' gathering. The rest of the night was mostly spent coughing up petals; he managed to get a couple of hours of sleep before dawn.
*
Iroh’s gaze followed his nephew’s slow steps back to the igloo assigned to their delegation. When he disappeared from his sight, Iroh looked into his cup of cold tea and sighed.
“Man, I’m gonna be glad when all this is done with,” Sokka slumped over his seat in front of the fire. “I have no idea how Katara manages to stay sane.”
“Awwww Sokka, are you saying we won’t be getting a grand wedding like this one?” Toph snuggled into him with her green coat, tugging at her betrothal necklace in the Water Tribe style. “I was hoping for something big in, I don’t know, Ba Sing Se…”
Though it was obvious to Iroh that the young woman was teasing, Sokka winced.
“We’re not going vegetarian for the banquet. How many people are we talking about?”
Iroh let out a hearty chuckle at the satisfied smirk she answered that with, but then his good humor waned.
“Love explains a great many things,” Iroh smiled, a hint of bitterness seeping through his words. “It gives us strength to bear burdens that would otherwise crush us.”
“Wise as always, old man,” she extended her feet to warm them with the fire. “Or I would never stand these shoes.”
For a moment, there was only the creeping of the fire.
“Maybe Katara is taking it a bit too far,” she started, tentatively. “She’s been more downcast than what can be explained by sheer stress.”
“No… I think it will all get better once all this pressure finishes,” Sokka answered, twisting his mouth slightly.
It sounded like an argument they’d had more than once, and Iroh listened quietly, swallowing at the sudden surge of hope the vague implications of those words might hold.
Until she spoke to him.
“She’s not the only one acting weird.” She turned the other side of her face to the fire. “If it weren’t for all this damned ice tampering with my bending, I would have called Zuko out on his lie of that supposed ‘cold’.”
“It has been an especially rough year in the Fire Nation, Master Toph,” he answered carefully.
“What about the rumors?” she asked, with far more intuition than Iroh had initially credited her with.
“There’s some truth to that,” he said with a neutral tone. “But not nearly as much as the rumors have made it seem.”
Her expression still left some room for doubts.
“He should go see Katara,” she said. Iroh nearly choked on his tea. “To let her get a look at that.”
“I will tell my nephew, Master Toph,” he sighed.
If only he could get Zuko to listen.
*
Zuko woke up early. It was the jubilant day of the Avatar’s wedding.
That's what all the whispers around said. The whole world vibrated with those words. The wedding of the Avatar, the last airbender.
For Zuko, however, it was the day of Katara's wedding.
**
Her own smile was a mere distant echo of the faces of the people around her. She kept that smile frozen on her face all morning as they helped her dress in the wedding attire, adorning her hair with yellow (so many yellow...) and blue bone and glass beads. That gown was almost the only concession to the Water Tribe’s traditions. The only other one was the (yellow, too) betrothal necklace around her neck. As for everything else… Aang had made it very clear what the Air Nomads thought of superfluous adornments.
He’d left clear his expectations for her, too. She would become an Air Nomad in all but birth.
Near her, laid her unconventional trousseau, that other women of the tribe had prepared and packed. Instead of furs and tools to run a house, it consisted of a few light clothes and tools more useful for nomadic life than for creating a home that followed the customs of the tribe. Also, the reduced size allowed it to travel on top of Appa. Placing it on Appa’s saddle would mark the day she definitively entered the nomadic life she had suffered more than enjoyed in the time she had accompanied Aang.
Maybe she would one day convince him to have a house that she could call home.
All around, there seemed to be an ocean of people in which she felt adrift. She tightened her grip on the folds of her warm-colored skirt; water knew how to adapt and be in constant movement. She could do it, do whatever was necessary, as she had done all her life.
Her gaze wandered over the numerous rows of occupied chairs, carefully skipping over the redder sections. After so many days, she had barely talked to Zuko, and it cast a heavy blanket of guilt on her heart.
Not as heavy as her dread to face any realizations that could come with talking to him, though.
The Earth Kingdom had a section too, as did the Northern Water Tribe. Chief Arnook smiled at her from his seat; he looked very sad, somehow, and Katara looked away quickly.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a slight commotion in the row where the Fire Nation delegation had settled. The black hair on which a crown in the shape of a flame gleamed and trembled in hurried movements, leaving the room.
In a second, Katara was on her feet and on her way to the side door.
“Where are you going? The ceremony is about to begin,” the Avatar, who in a few minutes would be her husband, tried to hold her back.
"I'll be right back." She had to find out, she needed to know that Zuko was okay. To know for sure if all those rumors about his illness were true and she hadn't done anything, if she, with her forced indifference, had let it get worse.
She slipped with the ease of rain seeping into soft earth to a side exit, which would take her into the ice hall. It was deserted, all the people were inside the hall, fighting for a place to see the ceremony.
Only one person, dressed in black and red, was there. Leaning against the icy wall, the golden reflection of his crown wavered along with spasms of a cough that echoed to Katara's heart.
She ran to his side and took his arm, trying to support him.
"Zuko! What's the matter?” The cold grip of terror banished in an instant the lukewarm feeling of joy she had worked so hard to conjure for her wedding day.
He couldn't answer, covering his mouth with one hand. But that didn't last long and when he fell to his knees, a rain of blue petals stained with blood came out of his mouth.
Katara's eyes widened at the implication.
She didn’t know what to do. Master Yagoda mentioned the disease during her classes at the North Pole, but she said very little about palliative care for it, since it wasn’t considered to be of great danger in the context of war. She looked around, waiting for some sudden insight, and found Iroh beside her, panic akin to her own in his gaze.
"He's been like this for many months, Master Katara." Iroh held Zuko, who was struggling to control his coughing fit, to little avail. The flowers came out by the fistful. “He has endured it with much strength, but I’m afraid everything has a limit…”
“Isn’t there anything that can be done?” Tears blurred the angular features of the one who had almost given his life to save her. “I would do anything, anything.”
"You're the only one who could do something," Iroh answered with an imploring gesture. “But it may be too late already.”
“It's me? The cause of…?” Zuko's labored breathing, his swollen throat, his too-pale skin made more tears slide down Katara's cheeks.
The coughing stopped for a second, during which Zuko looked at her, raw emotion in the golden eyes she had missed so much.
And with that, she knew.
The last of the little calm she had that kept her voice low disappeared, and the next thing was a scream that reverberated in the ice walls that she had raised for her people.
“Don’t! No, Zuko, please!” The feelings that she had tried to ignore for years, covering them under a layer of devotion to the one who restored the balance, of the gratitude that the world wanted to give him with the sacrifice of the insignificant wishes of a girl from the South Pole, resurfaced with a ferocity that she had forgotten was within herself. She hugged the chest of her friend, of her love. “Please! You can't do this to me, you can't leave me alone! I was afraid of what I felt for you, you never told me anything, I...! I did what the world wanted, not what I wanted!”
The breaths of the man in her arms became increasingly shallow and spaced out. She pressed her lips to Zuko's ear, so cold.
"I… I don’t want to marry Aang. I love you.”
The words echoed in the silent hall. The slight movement of his chest stopped.
For a few eternal seconds, she waited, fearing that the time between would drag on too long.
But it resumed, along with the movement of the rest of the world.
“K…Kat…?” His raspy voice was the sweetest sound to Katara's ears and she broke into sobs of relief.
"Zuko, Zuko, Zuko…" Each breath hissed in his chest, but they were deep breaths. She moved away enough to wipe away her tears and see him.
"Is it…?" His eyes, wide open and clear as suns, asked what his voice couldn't. And Katara answered.
"Yes." She placed a brief kiss on the corner of his lips, a bold move that made her heart sing in wild triumph after so long of stifling its impulses into submission. “But we'll wait to talk until after I heal your throat.”
“What's going on?” Katara tensed at the sound of Aang's voice. She turned around to find him there, flanked by Toph and Sokka.
"Avatar, my nephew…" Aang interrupted Iroh with an imperious gesture.
"Katara? What's going on?” Eyes wide in hurt confusion, he reached out a hand to her, when Katara’s hand rested on Zuko's cheek. He seemed to want to say something, but the only thing that came out of his throat was a kind of strangled wail.
"Aang, stop it." Toph intercepted Aang's hand with an iron grip. “Let's go out. Sokka, tell everyone to go back to their rooms, there won’t be any event until the anniversary ceremony tomorrow morning.”
Katara silently thanked Tui and La as she watched the three walk away and she was left with only Zuko and Iroh.
"Please…" She motioned for the older man to hold Zuko as she melted some water from one of the walls and manipulated it to make it glow. A few seconds later, the sound of footsteps broke Katara's concentration.
"It would be better to move somewhere else," Iroh suggested gently. His eyes shone with unshed tears.
Katara nodded and Zuko leaned on both of them to go to the igloos that served as accommodation for their delegation. Between them two, they rested the weakened Fire Lord on the pile of tanned furs that served as his bed, and Katara continued with the healing. When Zuko's sigh came out without tremors, Iroh got to his feet.
“I’ll leave you alone. There must be a lot to talk about…”
Katara raised a hand to stop him..
"But Aang… and how did I…?" She was unable to form complete sentences. Worry, bewilderment, and relief swamped her thoughts.
“I'll explain the first part of the situation to the Avatar. You'll have to go at some point, though.” Iroh bowed from the waist, a deep bow. “Thank you. Only a sincere acknowledgement of his feelings could have an effect, so advanced the disease.”
Katara nodded as she watched him leave. She took up again the rope of luminous water and continued applying it to Zuko's throat, until the rivers of chi started flowing better (just a little) and allowed a constant stream of energy to pass. The swelling had almost completely disappeared.
He looked misleadingly calm, like the day he had almost given his life to save Katara's.
It seemed so long ago, as if that girl who had healed him was someone else. Someone who could decide in a second without consulting anyone but herself, someone who could listen to her own wishes, voice them and find an echo in the person next to her.
Had that been love, ever since?
Not long after that, Zuko stirred and opened his eyes. Katara leaned over him, smiling.
"Katara? I think I was dreaming…" Zuko began, in a slightly scratchy voice despite Katara's healing efforts.
"What were you dreaming about?" Instead of sitting on the edge of the bed, as she had done when caring for him after the day of the comet, she snuggled up beside him in the furs.
"That…" He put a hand to her throat and finally seemed to understand. “That you healed me. Katara, is it true?”
Unable to reply, Katara nodded.
"But…" He blinked, then smiled. “Thank you.”
She laced her fingers with his, clasping them tightly.
"When did this begin?" she asked, a lump in her throat.
“Since… since that event where he held your hand, do you remember?”
She remembered.
So long ago… Yes, she had been someone else.
"What you told me... is it true?" he whispered shyly. “You’re not getting married anymore?”
"No," Katara answered, looking away. “But… I need some time. I want to be here, continue the negotiations with the North, finish the renovations to Sokka's watchtower…”
Talk to Aang, try to patch things up so they could at least end up as friends. She hadn't meant to hurt him, so much so that she had nearly destroyed her own life in the process of avoiding his pain.
"You know where to find me," he smiled, a little less haggard than before. “I'm not going anywhere.”
"Then I can promise we'll talk about this later."
And that promise didn't feel like a chain.
Stepping out of the igloo, Katara took a deep breath. The cold air reached every corner of her body, with the charged vibrance of freedom.
She gathered her courage; she could face whatever came, do whatever was necessary. And… Aang deserved an explanation.
"He's over there," Uncle Iroh said quietly as Katara reached the hall where the wedding feast was planned. He pointed to one of the balconies, and Katara steeled herself to slide the door open and face him.
He was looking at the horizon, all the frozen shoreline that the height of the building allowed. He and Katara had gotten better views on Appa's back.
"Aang…" she began, when it became clear that Aang either hadn't noticed her arrival or was waiting for her to start. “I'm sorry.”
He finally turned to face her. His broken heart laid, unconcealed, in his eyes.
"Iroh told me about Zuko's disease." He wiped away a tear. “He said that you cured him, by understanding he was in love with you.”
“Yes.”
“What does this mean? For… us?”
She looked away, unable to stand the glimmer of hope in his face.
“I want time for myself.” She breathed deeply before saying the hardest part. “I… I don’t think us was working.”
What else was there to say, really?
His following silence quieted her fear of him reacting badly. Instead, he just looked away.
"Deep down I knew, I think." Aang hunched his shoulders. “That you were not happy with me. I just didn't want to see it as anything other than perfect.”
Once done, there was a sore relief inside her chest. His obvious pain still cut; she did love him, and she didn’t want him to suffer. But, like with arrow wounds, it was necessary to take out the barbed point before it could actually heal.
She sighed, exhaustion catching up to her.
“I did my best,” she embraced herself. “I tried to… I don’t know. I don’t know.”
He looked at her, silently waiting for her next words.
“I loved helping the people. And helping you— you work so hard to keep balance and the world desperately needs it, it was good being a part of that.” She looked down at her dress, biting her lip. “I get that your culture is important to you, but… mine is very important to me too. I don’t like nomadic life, I have my own projects, I want… something different.”
There was much more she could have said, but this was not time for reproaches that may end in outright spite, not when it was all already finished.
There was a passing, bitter gleam of resentment in his eyes.
“Something someone else may be able to offer you?”
In an effort of continued civility, she nodded.
“I hope so. Like I hope you’ll find someone who will wear the yellow robes of the Air Nomads for a wedding just the way you want it…”
She untied the yellow necklace, feeling light, and handed it to him. He took it, trying to touch her as little as possible.
They looked at each other in silence for a long moment. She noticed the way he held onto his glider, and how his body was angled towards the open sky over the sea.
“Will you be here for tomorrow’s celebration?” she murmured, wishing they both could afford being selfish and get some time for themselves. “The Southern Water Tribe worked hard to prepare it.”
To his credit, the grip on the glider loosened.
“I will.”
She nodded one last time before leaving.
**
Zuko refilled with wine the five cups in front of him, with the practice that one could only get by working in a tea shop; not a drop spilled on the wooden table of that small inn somewhere in the Earth Kingdom.
Sokka lost no time to pick up his cup and cheer.
“To the,” he hiccuped, bordering on tears, “greatest earthbender in the whole wide world! Who, from this night on, is also my wife!”
Katara, sitting in front of him at the table, rolled her eyes. It was at least the third time he said that, and by the looks of it, he wouldn’t be stopping any time soon.
“Ugh, shut it, Meathead,” Toph answered, the blush on her cheeks betraying her apparent scowl. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“How did I get so lucky?” Sokka hugged her against his side. “After a somewhat rocky start…”
That did guarantee a punch from Toph and some groans from the rest of them.
“Okay, okay. Ow, Gran Gran will surely envy this iron fist,” he rubbed his arm with exaggerated gesticulations.
Zuko laughed at Katara’s nonplussed face.
“Iron, not really iron. More like space rock. One thing’s for sure: my love for her is totally out of this world.”
Zuko could almost swear that he hadn’t imagined Katara’s quick gaze passing over him, and blushed.
“Oh, Sokka…” Toph caught her husband’s lips with hers under the good-natured catcalling from their friends.
“We’re still here, you know!” protested Aang, laughing. Zuko snorted his agreement; though it had taken some time, his unlikely friendship with the Avatar had returned to some resemblance of normalcy after the failed wedding.
They were getting there.
“We know,” Toph turned away from Sokka. “And we’re really happy you could come. There’s a reason we eloped…”
“We didn’t want a big wedding,” supplied Sokka. “I still have nightmares about that sometimes…”
“...we wanted only our closest friends to be here,” Toph continued, ignoring the interruption.
There was no answer from Zuko’s part, speechless and touched by Toph’s unusually soft words.
“Also, we’re expecting your gifts,” she finished with a much more typical smirk.
They all laughed at that. He did prepare a gift, but it was due to arrive at the South Pole. And if there was a second, smaller package for Katara, well… It was too good an opportunity to send her a gift to pass it up.
“I hate to spoil the fun,” Aang lifted his cup one last time once everyone calmed down. “I need to be in Omashu tomorrow night. Gotta get going. Sorry, guys.”
“Thank you for officiating our marriage!” Sokka shouted, entirely too loud for what the distance required. “Have I ever told you how great of a friend you are? Even after you broke up with my s—?”
Toph silenced him with another kiss, and Zuko was as relieved as Katara for that.
“I guess we should let everyone sleep. Sparky can’t stay too long either,” Toph waved her goodbye. “Thanks for being here, Twinkletoes.”
“My best wishes for your health and happiness,” Aang smiled softly before leaving.
Sokka became momentarily occupied by searching for something he claimed to have dropped, to which Toph only shrugged.
“I trust you can find your way to your rooms?” Toph held Sokka’s hand while he kept searching.
“Actually, I was thinking of getting some fresh air first,” Katara answered, stealing another glance at Zuko, who this time was sure that it hadn’t been imaginary.
“Mmmkay,” Toph let out a small laugh, and Zuko was glad she couldn’t see his blush, despite probably feeling the rush of his heartbeat with her bending. “Say no more. G’night, you two.”
They walked out without another word, leaving them to stare at each other over the empty table.
He got up and offered his hand to help her up.
To the world, they were nothing but friends; that was mostly an oversimplified truth.
His hopes were humble, but they were there nevertheless. Across the few years since her failed wedding to Aang, there had been a tentative, unassuming courtship whenever they happened to encounter each other.
Some whispered words, discreet smiles… One time, she had actually kissed him; though brief and secret, that kiss had been enough to fan his hope into a raging bonfire. Enough, too, to sustain a fight against the increasingly constant attempts from the Council about arranging a marriage for him.
And, he thought as they walked to the quiet night outside the inn, he would fight that off for as long as necessary.
Her fingers had never let go of his hand while they came to lean against a fence, and she closed her eyes as she took in the cool air of the night. Moonlight concealed the light green of her simple dress (in which she looked as beautiful as ever), similar to his own plain, dark green clothes.
In hindsight, this was just another reason for him to be so captivated by her: with her, he was not the Fire Lord, a political figure in charge of dismantling a hundred years of damage. He was just… him, with all of his weaknesses and strengths, virtues and defects. For once, enough.
He earnestly hoped she felt the same way with him.
She turned to him with a smile.
“I’m so happy for them,” she started, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“Me too,” he fidgeted. It was hard to think of anything more complex to say with the knowledge of them being alone. Swallowing, he tried to continue. “Was it difficult to make time to come?”
“Not really. I was about to finish my apprenticeship with Master Pilrak.”
“Did you like it?” he asked, enthralled with the excitement the question elicited in her eyes.
“Oh, yes, it was wonderful!” her smile sparkled. “Now I’m officially a waterbending constructor. I wasn’t the only woman there but there aren’t many others either.”
Zuko observed her, smiling at her enthusiasm.
“I’ve got some more plans for the South Pole now. Sadly, I don’t think ice buildings could endure Fire Nation climate for long, but healing could be more useful there…”
She stopped suddenly at that, letting an awkward pause grow (in which Zuko’s imagination ran wild about the possible meaning behind those words).
When she spoke again, it was with a trembling but jesting tone.
“Was it difficult for the Fire Lord to put his forever-full agenda on hold and come here?”
He laughed in silence.
“Not too much. Uncle was in good disposition to take over my post for a few days while I flew here,” he pointed at the field behind the inn, where an ostrich-horse slept, standing up. “He didn’t let me come without guard, so I’ll join Ty Lee in the next city to go back to Caldera with the airship.”
Conversation came to a pause while he tried to think of a way to return to her words about the Fire Nation.
“Hmmm…” he started.
“Yes?” she turned to him, smiling.
Would you like to visit the palace with me? Can I talk about how much I love you? Would you mind if I kissed you?, were all good questions, but far too direct.
“Won’t your grandma be mad about Sokka eloping?”
“Not at all,” she laughed, but then seemed to think for a moment. “Perhaps a little. Not for long, though, not if she sees them this happy.”
She stared at their joined hands for a moment.
His heartbeat went wild once again, so much he was sure she’d be able to feel it in her fingertips.
“It’s been a while,” she said softly. “I’ve been thinking about what happened… that time.” He didn’t need her to specify more to know which time she meant. “Do you still…?”
“You know how I feel,” he blushed.
“Feelings can change,” she looked away, voice barely above a whisper.
Cautiously, he grasped her hand fully instead of just her fingers.
“Mine haven’t,” he managed to say, despite the thundering sound of his heartbeat in his ears. “Have yours?”
She blushed, visible despite the darkness surrounding them.
“That day… when I almost lost you,” her gaze was unfocused, “I said I loved you. I didn’t lie.”
Her hand squeezed his.
“Now that I’ve had a chance to think things through, and grow and be myself… If you’re still willing, then we could try to…”
She seemed to lose her words, just like him.
His hand came to cup her cheek, the space between them almost disappearing.
“Nothing would make me happier.”
When their lips finally touched, it was with the hope of something new. Instead of new kinds of pain, he would, perhaps, get familiar with bliss.