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Chapter Text

Zuko sees the kiss.

Everyone else is still inside, drinking tea, celebrating his coronation and the end of the war. He only vaguely hears Sokka indignantly justifying his sub-par artwork and Toph butting in with a typical snarky comment, his focus intent on the green-clad waterbender who had ducked outside when she thought no one would notice.

But Zuko had noticed.

He's not quite sure when he started feeling her absence so keenly, started missing her presence when she leaves the room. But it becomes very obvious to him, the moment she slips out from behind the table to follow the Avatar outside, that he has somehow let an attachment to the young woman worm its way into his subconscious. It's all very unsettling, and sends a nervous rush of adrenaline shooting through his system.

He used to think that the possibility of a friendship with her lay somewhere in the realm of Azula starting a shelter for the homeless or his uncle swearing off tea- impossible. But then, against all odds, she had accepted him even after his horrible betrayal, fought by his side against his sister, cried for him after he'd taken lightning for her.

And now he is finding himself with the strangest pit in his stomach as he watches her disappear out the door.

Zuko doesn't know why he can't look away when her lips meet the Avatar's. Common courtesy dictates turning a blind eye to a couple so obviously seeking a private moment. He knows he looks strange and antisocial standing off to the side, clearly disinterested in the conversation between his friends around him. He is fairly certain that Mai is still waiting for him to return to her side on the other side of the room.

Yet his ocher eyes are glued to that narrow sliver of a scene he can glimpse through the doorway. Time seems to slow a little as he watches the pair embrace and lean into the kiss as if moving through molasses. His heart stutters in its steady rhythm and the air seems to have been forced out of his lungs, as if he has been knocked abruptly off balance. The kiss seems to take an eternity, and with every passing second he knows he should stop watching, feels the growing guilt at witnessing such an intimate moment. But he can't bring himself to pull his eyes away, until someone calling his name- the voice vaguely registers as his uncle's- shatters his stupor and brings him back to earth.

"More tea?" the venerable firebender offers, but Zuko waves a hand.

"No thanks, Uncle." And he turns away from Iroh's too-insightful gaze to amble off in search of his girlfriend, shoving the image of Katara and Aang forcibly to the back of his mind. If anyone had questioned him, he would have pled ignorance of the entire event.

But in truth, Zuko's eyes had been opened, and to more than just the knowledge of the budding relationship between his two friends. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had been maintaining the expectation of things between himself and the waterbender remaining as they'd been on their journey- traveling together as friends, sharing meals and laughing and fighting alongside each other. In some way that he doesn't quite yet understand, or at least want to admit, the kiss has woken him up from that expectation as though jarred awake from a pleasant dream.

It's a few months later when he sees them next. The Avatar is returning to the citadel to check in on how the Fire Lord's project is progressing: the rebuilding of a nation crippled by the effects of a century-long war effort. Zuko is at his desk, poring over paperwork (as usual) and avoiding his girlfriend (also becoming usual), when one of his staff comes in to inform him that the Avatar's bison has been spotted.

He watches, feeling very stiff and still slightly awkward in his formal robes and crown, as Appa lands in front of him, bearing the couple he has been endeavoring to avoid thinking about since his coronation. Focused blue eyes catch him in their gaze as Aang airbends off his bison with his characteristic impatience. Zuko feels a twinge of annoyance as he watches Katara awkwardly clamber off the saddle and slide down by herself, even as he is nearly knocked over by the younger teen's forceful hug.

The least you could do is help her down, he thinks, inwardly rolling his eyes at the immature excitement of the young airbender. Outwardly, he smiles. "Welcome back."

Aang steps back from his tight hug (Wow Zuko, you look so much older! Can you believe it's only been three months? I have to catch you up on everything-) and they exchange bows. Then Katara is walking up, and he has to remind his heart to keep a normal rhythm. He moves to bow, and she pauses, bowing in return, just as he and Aang had done.

Then, before he quite realizes it, she has stepped forward and embraced him, and for the briefest of moments, Zuko feels again as if he's been knocked off balance. He feels her warmth for a heartbeat before she has released him again and he can't do anything except stare. She smiles. "It's good to see you."

Then her hand intertwines with Aang's, and Zuko has to force himself to smile back. But he finds that his reply is still honest.

"Yeah, it is."

If only he could be as honest with himself.

Later that evening, after dinner, he almost stumbles into another moment. He is about to walk into Katara's room with tea, hoping to keep some semblance of the relationship they'd had while traveling, when he sees through the crack of the door that she is not alone. Pausing in the corridor, he does what he knows he shouldn't, and eavesdrops.

They're laughing, reliving some story from their travels as they sit close on her couch. Her head rests on his shoulder; his arm snakes around her waist. His name slips out of her mouth, sandwiched in between giggles. And then he leans across to kiss her, stopping her laughter, and Zuko doesn't stay to watch this time.

He breaks up with Mai the next morning. Something in her steady gaze, in her lack of anger and her almost pitying eyes, makes him wonder if perhaps she knows more of his own emotions than he does.

After that visit, he comes to dread spending time with his two friends, cursing his firebending training and his years as an exile for making him so vigilant, so aware of every detail. He sees every intimate glance that passes between them, every silent laugh at an inside joke, every slight brush of their hands against the other's shoulder, waist, arm. He hears whispered words that were never intended for his ears, catches accidental glimpses of moments not meant for anyone's eyes, especially not his.

So every few months for the first year after the war, when the Avatar's bison appears in the sky, Zuko feels his heart drop into his stomach and almost unconsciously prepares himself for impending suffering.

It occurs to him occasionally that he should be happy for his former traveling companions. They seem happy together, after all. Aang seems to be treating Katara well, from what Zuko can see of her smiles when he spends time around the couple. Although admittedly, it is strange to watch the fourteen year old act the boyfriend to a young woman two years his senior, especially a young woman who had spent the majority of their time together before dating as more of his mother figure. But when he spends much time at all dwelling on it, which isn't often, Zuko thinks that this shouldn't be cause for objecting to their relationship so instinctively.

No, there is something deeper coming into play. But this is as far as he ever dares go with this train of thought.

After the first year passes and both Aang and Zuko are reasonably confident in the way things are progressing in the Fire Nation, the visits trickle to six months apart, then a year. The Fire Lord doesn't know how to feel about this new trend. He does miss them, of course; no strange, unexplained feelings will ever change how much he cares for the both of them as some of the only people in the world who have ever seen all of him, the good with the bad and all the parts that weren't quite either one. The bond forged from traveling together to defeat Ozai is a strong one.

But the physical pain Zuko feels at seeing them together, as a couple, knowing that they spend most of their lives traveling together, forging new adventures and overseeing the restoration of the world after a century of war while he is tied to the throne of his own nation, is real and difficult to endure. And so it is something like a bitter relief when the Avatar begins to come less and less frequently.

With this shift in arrangements comes an unexpected development.

It's an unusual rainy day when Zuko receives the first letter. An aide comes to his office during mid-morning to deliver the mail, as usual. He flips through the stack, automatically sorting through official business, urgent messages from routine ones, setting personal correspondence (a letter from Uncle in Ba Sing Se, the occasional update from Toph- oh look, the invitation to Sokka and Suki's wedding I've been expecting) to the side to read later, at his leisure. An envelope containing no return address momentarily gives him pause, stilling his busy hands- who would send the Fire Lord mail without identifying himself? Interest thoroughly piqued, he slits the missive open with a letter opener and pulls out a single sheet filled front and back with unassuming but elegant handwriting.

"Zuko-" the letter begins, and rather than immediately reading the body of the letter, he flips the paper over, his golden eyes skipping to the signature to see who would address him so informally.

"Katara." He reads the name aloud, eyes opening wide. Quickly, he flips the sheet back over and starts to read from the beginning.

Zuko-

I've missed you!

I know that the Fire Nation is doing well, that you are more than capable of handling everything without Aang's diplomatic presence. I know you don't need us to come and visit so much anymore, and that we have our own roles for now. But I do miss coming to see you, seeing the citadel and spending time on the beach and getting to explore the palace attics. (Remember when we found the funniest baby portrait of Iroh?) You could have a whole adventure just going through the old storerooms in your palace, you know. You'll have to take a day off from paperwork the next time we come to visit so that we can find your embarrassing baby pictures this time.

I know you must be swamped with your duties as Fire Lord, and I don't want to take away from them, or ask anything unreasonable. But I would really like it if we wrote to each other. I miss spending time with you like we did when we were traveling together, and would hate it if the time apart put distance in our friendship.

There's no return address on the envelope because Aang moves around so frequently, and we are never in the same place for very long. I guess he's used to that lifestyle, being an Air Nomad, after all, and I've been getting accustomed to it as well, although I think I'll always prefer having one place to call home. But I did send this letter with a specific messenger hawk who's been trained to seek us out when he needs to find us. (It looks like previous Avatars had this problem with mail, as well. There's just too much demand on their time in too many directions, and so they're never in one place very permanently.) But anyway, if you send a return letter back with that hawk, he'll know where to find us!

Of course, if you're too busy to write back, or aren't interested for whatever reason, you can just send him back without one, as well. I'll understand.

The rest of the letter describes her current life traveling with the Avatar, mostly focusing on the help she's been able to give the healers in the villages they pass through and how rewarding it is for her. She includes a little of the diplomatic duties Aang faces as he visits different locations in the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes, and ends by asking him to write back soon.

A letter back from you would make me really happy! It gets a little lonely sometimes, with no friends around besides Aang, and it would be nice to hear from my favorite moody firebender.

Regardless, know I really value your friendship and believe in your ability to shape your nation for the better. The crown looks good on you.

-Katara

A strange feeling rises in his chest at her final words, and pushing his other papers aside, he grabs a clean sheet and some ink and begins to write her back. A small smile turns up the corners of his mouth. Shaping his nation for the better can wait for a little while longer today.

She's stupid, he thinks absently as he writes, to believe him capable of disappointing her in anything.

Time passes, as it does, and Zuko is twenty-two almost before he knows it. The years have been peppered with paperwork and pushy advisors. He's quashed at least two potential civil wars before they had the chance to come to fruition, drank at least an ocean's worth of tea, and negotiated more alliances and trade guidelines and peace agreements than he knew there was paper enough to write them on. All while fending off the subtle but ever-mounting pressure from his advisors to find a bride and solidify his rule, he might add. (His dynasty, actually, as they so loved to call it. Privately, Zuko finds it strange that he could be said to have anything like a "dynasty." He still finds it strange not to be an exile, to be perfectly honest.) All the while, he has continued to send letters back and forth with Katara, their correspondence a ray of sunshine in the oftentimes dull and frustrating task of being the Fire Lord during peacetime.

But suddenly, summer is approaching, along with the five year anniversary of the end of the war, and he finds himself in the position of hosting a celebration of peace. He has just taken care of the misguided leaders of another would-be rebellion born of the nationalist roots that ran deep in the hearts of many firebenders, and had written a letter to the leaders of the Earth Kingdom and both Water Tribes, as well as Aang, requesting a celebration to take place in the citadel. He hopes it will help remind his people that a great evil has been eradicated, that this is the beginning of a new era.

The fact that a certain waterbender, who he hasn't seen for at least a year now, will also be required to attend in her newly official role of Southern Water Tribe ambassador is just an added bonus. Or unfortunate drawback? He can't decide.

A month before the diplomatic delegations are due to arrive, Zuko starts to doubt his wisdom in planning the festivities.

A week before, when he wakes up in a cold sweat after multiple nightmares involving public humiliation (and lots of Katara and Aang in intimate positions), Zuko knows it was a terrible idea. The youngest current world leader- of the nation which had terrorized all others for a century, no less- should not be hosting a celebration of peace.

The good of my nation before myself, he tries to remind himself. He has an entire country to think about.

So why, in his quiet moments, is his head only filled with memories of that first kiss, and the many others he has accidentally witnessed between the couple over the years? Of every time she's smiled at him, sent him encouraging letters during the darker times of these first five years as Fire Lord, shown him unbelievable kindness- only to then witness her embracing the Avatar, kissing him, loving him?

Zuko has spent five years in absolute denial. So when he picks up a letter on his desk, just five days before the celebration is set to begin, and sees her familiar handwriting on its envelope, he is surprised when he feels no desire to squelch the usual increase in the tempo of his heart.

Dear Zuko… know the preparations must be stressful to pull together… excited to see you… can't wait to talk… confident that you're doing the right thing, as always, for the Fire Nation.

How is it that she always knows just what he will most need to hear? It's practically psychic, the way she can anticipate his emotions and insecurities and head them off with a well-written word of truth and encouragement. And it's then, staring down at the letter in his hands, that Zuko realizes in a flash of understanding what he's spent years avoiding and denying and trying to overcome.

He loves her.

He is hopelessly, unfortunately, painfully in love with a waterbender who spends most of her time half a world away, loving someone else.

It is simultaneously the most wonderful and horrible thing he's ever experienced, this realization, and he spends a good while just staring down at the paper that's somehow managed to shift the very earth under his feet with just a few lines.

I love her.

He doesn't know whether to jump for joy or collapse in horror. So he does the next best thing- he heads to the practice arena for a cathartic session of firebending until he is too sore to stand.

However, all the training in the world won't let him avoid dealing with this newfound truth. He finds himself staring at her letter often over the next several days, distracting him from the preparations and leaving him continually unsettled. Although it is a relief to finally realize the truth behind his conflicting emotions, he has no idea what to do with it. After all, she's with the Avatar. And so he tries to push the feelings away, tries to focus on the important things.

When the day finally arrives for the week of celebrations to begin, the introductions to boring diplomats seem especially unbearable to the young Fire Lord. He feels as though he is craning his neck after every new round of pleasantries, searching for the telltale sign of Appa descending from the sky. Even the arrival of his uncle from the Earth Kingdom, long-anticipated, only brings him momentary relief.

Zuko gets his wish late in the afternoon after most of the other guests have arrived. The Southern Water Tribe delegation is already there, containing among their number Hakoda, Sokka and Suki (newly married), and an elderly woman he vaguely remembers from that first unfortunate landing at the South Pole. It had been his pleasure to welcome them- her family- into the Fire Nation's capital. Toph had also arrived, giving him a friendly slug to the shoulder even when he had tried to greet her with more manners. "Hey, good to see you, Sparky."

So when the bison appears as a small dot on the horizon, it feels as if a final missing puzzle piece has been found. Zuko isn't sure what to expect of himself upon seeing the waterbender again, not after his personal revelation a few days prior.

But he definitely doesn't expect his blood to freeze in his veins as she slides off the bison after Aang, a smile gracing her features and a new necklace accenting her collarbone.

He only notices it because the ribbon, instead of the worn blue of her mother's heirloom, is a bright silvery color instead. His too-observant amber eyes focus on it immediately, as well as on the couple's intertwined hands.

Zuko is not the only one to notice this change in Katara's wardrobe. Hakoda steps forward to embrace his daughter, and congratulates the couple. "I am happy for you, Katara," he says gently with a smile, seeming to have expected this development. He turns to Aang next. "I know you will be a wonderful addition to our family."

The Avatar bows to the chief of the Southern Water Tribe respectfully, with a smile nonetheless. "I deeply appreciate your blessing on our future marriage."

Zuko can't breathe. He tries desperately to school his features into a neutral expression, avoiding Uncle Iroh's knowing eyes, hoping his inner turmoil isn't apparent on his face. None of her letters had hinted at something like this. Logically, he thinks he should have expected it soon- they had been together for five years, and they were young, yes, but also world leaders and war heroes. But maybe for the same reason it had taken him so long to realize his feelings for Katara, he also hadn't wanted to dwell on the possibility of her probable marriage to another man.

Once he has spent several rapid heartbeats absorbing the news, he is able to arrange his features into his best approximation of happiness. Blessedly, it is only after he feels he is back in control of his emotions that Aang and Katara turn to him, and he has an opportunity to give his congratulations.

"I am truly happy for you," Zuko offers, his eyes locking with Katara's as he finishes his sentiment and finding that his words are indeed honest, at least towards the waterbender. I just want you to be happy.

She smiles and thanks him, but there is something tight around her eyes that Zuko wonders if he is imagining. The group turns to head back into the palace, Aang running ahead to catch up with Toph, and Zuko finds himself at the back of the group, beside the newly engaged Katara.

He gives her a sideways glance. She grins, meeting his eyes, and suddenly that strange tightness around her expression melts into mischief. "This doesn't disrupt our plans to go searching for humiliating portraits of baby Zuko, does it? You've weaseled out of it for years now- you're not getting away with it this time."

The laugh that bubbles past his lips is genuine, not forced, although there is still a very real ache in his chest. "Anything you want," he promises. There is a note of underlying seriousness in his tone, and he wonders if she catches the meaning he has to leave unspoken. The way her blue eyes cut away from him to suddenly study something fascinating about her nails makes him think that she might.

That night, there is a welcome banquet that serves to double as Aang and Katara's impromptu engagement celebration. He is seated near the couple, and as usual, his highly trained skills of observation leave him with more knowledge than he'd prefer to possess.

He doesn't want to see the infatuated beaming smile on the Avatar's face every time he looks at his intended. He doesn't want to witness the whispered comments that pass between them, or the way Aang's hand is all too comfortable resting possessively on her thigh under the table. Images from his nightmares come back to assault him in full force, and he has little recourse for beating them back now that his wall of denial has been destroyed.

But the part that hurts most of all, the worst thing about his attention to detail, is seeing Katara's reaction to it all. She smiles, yes, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She accepts the attention, allows the physical contact, but doesn't reciprocate it. He loses count of the times her hand rises to the necklace at her throat, fingering the charm almost obsessively. He's seen that habit before- she would do the same thing during their journey when she felt nervous or threatened or upset. He watches her fingers trace the smooth satin of the new ribbon and wonders what is driving the habit now.

Zuko can't bear it, because these observations simultaneously cause him to doubt her happiness and give him hope. He cannot afford either response, not if he is to make it through the celebrations and the years beyond. But the longer that dinner drags on, the more certain he becomes that something is not quite right with Katara. The tantalizing possibility teases at the edges of his imagination and is enough to keep him desperately wondering.

Is she not truly happy with him?

As everyone eventually rises from the table late in the evening, looking forward to their beds after a long day of travel, Zuko happens to lock eyes with her once more. He sees mysteries swirling in their depths before she smiles politely, slamming the proverbial door shut once more, and he is left to merely guess at the state of her heart.

"Portrait hunting tomorrow?" she asks, and the Fire Lord feels again how impossible it is for him to deny her anything. He sighs.

"Tomorrow," he promises, and the expectation of future embarrassment is more than made up for by the genuine excitement in her expression at his easy acquiescence. He watches her fiancé lead her down the hall with a hand on the small of her back, regrets and nostalgia threatening to overwhelm him.

He doesn't really expect to be able to sleep that night, and so sits at the desk in his room instead of moving immediately to his bed. A quick motion of his fingers lights the various candles around the room, and he sinks into the chair, resting his elbows on the glossy wood and placing his head in his hands. His crown and topknot are long discarded, his more familiar shaggy black locks falling around his face, obscuring his face.

He doesn't know quite how long he sits like this, just focusing on breathing in and out, the sound of his heartbeat loud in his ears. But when he comes to himself again, he sees out of the corner of his eye a familiar piece of paper.

Her letter.

Zuko picks up the sheet with slightly trembling fingers, reading and re-reading the words she'd written until his vision suddenly became too blurry to continue making them out. Confused, he reaches up a hand to his face to feel something foreign and wet making its way down his cheeks. Bringing his hand away again, he stares at the moisture on his hands uncomprehendingly.

He feels like an incompetent adolescent again, a young boy on an impossible mission that he is nonetheless honor-bound to complete. Only this task- letting her go- seems far less achievable than his long-time hunt for the Avatar ever had.

Carefully setting aside her letter, Zuko's eyes fall on the stack of paper he keeps on the corner of his desk. How many times has he sat in this exact spot to pen her a reply?

Struck with inspiration, he shakes off his silent tears, takes a sheet from the top of the pile and pulls out his writing utensils. Katara, he begins, taking care while forming each character of her name. Then he pauses, leaning back.

He's missed the crucial flaw in this plan to take action against his wayward emotions; he has no idea what to write.

Several drafts ensue, failed attempts at continuing the easy rapport they had always shared through their correspondence over the years. He groans in frustration, burying his face in his hands. "Why can't I get this right?" he almost growls under his breath. Around him in messy piles are the slightly crumpled results of his struggle.

Then, it hits him. Things aren't coming out right because he is desperately trying to conceal his heart from her, introducing into their friendship something which has never before existed: falsehood. Leaving him with only one possible, albeit painful, solution.

Shaking his head with the audacity of what he is about to do, Zuko is nonetheless compelled to be truthful. He owes her that much. And so, with trepidation speeding up the beat of his heart, he puts pen to paper and begins to write.

I feel like I'm lost, like I have no direction…

…been waiting so long…

…do you know how it feels to see you with him, to hear you calling out for him…

…feels so alone, without you…

So this is what I'm asking.

He pauses, hand shaking, and draws a deep breath before continuing.

I promised that I would never betray you again, after what happened under Ba Sing Se. And lying to you feels like a betrayal. I feel honor-bound to tell you, Katara, that I am in love with you. I'm not sure when exactly it started- it must have been so long ago. I have been such an idiot, denying it even to myself. But now that I know, I can no longer deny it to you.

So this is what I'm asking, what I'm offering. Pack up, leave everything. Leave what you've known for years now. Leave your life with the Avatar behind. Don't get married. Come here, to the Fire Nation, and live with me. Love me instead. You know, you have to know by now that I am incapable of withholding anything from you. You would have everything from me, all of my heart. I know you could be happy here, with me.

If you are happy with him, truly happy marrying him, then ignore these words. I hate feeling selfish, and I feel selfish by giving you this option. If I were sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are content with the choice you've made, I wouldn't offer. But since after tonight, I have even the smallest bit of hope that maybe, maybe you aren't quite as sure as you'd like to be, I have to ask. Make me the happiest man in the world, and I promise that in return I will spend every day making you the happiest that I possibly can. Give me the chance to show you how much I love you.

So this is what I'm asking. It seems unfair, selfish, impossible even. But if there's any part of you that could reciprocate what I feel for you, any possibility that you believe you could be happy with me, then leave your lover, Katara. Leave him for me.

-Zuko

It's late by the time he finishes the letter with the familiar flourish of his signature, midnight at least. Placing it inside an unsealed envelope, her name carefully inscribed on the front, he stares at it in mild disbelief.

Has he really written those words? Is this all a dream? Does he truly intend for Katara to read his request? Does he really mean to put her in such an impossible position?

His heart answers for him with a violent surge of emotion as he considers letting the letter slowly burn in his hands. The expression in her blue eyes haunts him, the memory of her veneer of happiness appearing as a thin layer of ice over an ocean. If it weren't for his damnably acute skills of observation, Zuko might be able to reduce the envelope in his hands to ashes. But he can't erase what he's seen, can't burn away the doubts in his heart, and so his compulsion to maintaining the honesty in their relationship stills his hand and leaves him as frozen in place as if she had bent the ice to do the deed herself.

Leave your lover, Katara. Leave him for me.

He means those words, truly and sincerely means every stroke of his pen on the paper. He hadn't officially proposed marriage, but he knows she will take his meaning; he's practically shouted it in every sentence.

Since his silent witness of that first kiss, five long years ago, it's always been her. He knows in his heart that he doesn't have a choice.

Allowing himself just a moment in which to envision a happy outcome of this letter, a universe in which his laughing blue-eyed children firebend through the halls of the palace and their mother sleeps soundly beside him in bed each night, Zuko sucks in a deep breath, runs his hand through his messy hair, and moves to rise from the desk.

He has a promise to deliver, and there's no sense in delaying.

Chapter Text

Katara sees the kiss.

She had come to wish him luck before his coronation, knowing that he must be nervous today. Her footsteps echo through the nearly-empty corridors of the palace as she finds her way to where she knows he is hiding from everyone before the notable events of the day (read: the seventeen year old formerly-banished prince being crowned Fire Lord) really begin. He had slipped out of breakfast early after barely eating anything, under cover of Toph and Sokka's antics, hoping no one would notice.

But Katara had noticed.

She's worried about him. She's not quite sure when she started feeling such responsibility for his well-being; to be sure, watching him struck down by lightning right before her eyes had been traumatic and warranted concern for his physical injuries. That makes sense.

But the instinct currently leading her feet in his direction after hours of indecision is inexplicable to her. Why should she care so much about seeking him out when he so clearly wants time alone?

She's used to caring about people. It's practically in her blood, to offer friendship and comfort and assistance to those who need it. I will never turn my back on people who need me. But the impulse- the compulsion- driving her forward now doesn't feel like her usual compassionate idealism in action. It had become very obvious to her, as she had paced the floor in her room instead of getting herself ready for the coronation, that she has somehow become quite attached to her former sworn enemy. The thought is unsettling and forms an uncomfortable pit deep in her stomach.

She used to think that the possibility of a friendship with him lay somewhere in the realm of Master Pakku taking up swampbending or Sokka becoming a vegetarian- impossible. And then he had betrayed her proffered olive branch in the crystal catacombs of Ba Sing Se, and the thought became not only impossible but truly laughable. She was a forgiving person, but Aang had died. Surely there was no making up for that.

But then, somehow, he had. He'd forged his way back through the icy distance she'd imposed between them; saved her life on multiple occasions; taught the boy he'd once relentlessly tried to capture the necessary skills to defeat his own father.

For the love of Tui, he'd taken a bolt of lightning for her.

And now she is finding herself with the strangest pit in her chest as she imagines how turbulent his emotions must be, just before the most momentous occasion of his entire life to date.

After innumerable twists and wrong turns, she slips through a door and finds herself on an outdoor terrace connecting several rooms. She knows she's where she needs to be when she hears a slight, familiar grunt of pain. Quickening her step, she looks around the corner- and pulls up short when she sees him, disheveled and struggling with his clothes. His injuries must make things difficult, she realizes.

Suddenly embarrassed, both by his relative state of undress and by her inability to properly explain the motives that have brought her here, she abruptly steps back behind a curtained pillar before he can see her. She knows she should reveal herself, should offer to help him, should say something already before he catches her hiding like a creepy stalker out on this balcony. But her limbs are leaden.

His next muffled hiss of discomfort puts into perspective how ridiculous she's being, and her muscles are tensed to move when-

"You need some help with that?"

Mai's voice ringing out through the silence of the room sends a fast jolt of adrenaline shooting through Katara's system, freezing her back in place.

"Mai! You're okay!"

Something about the enthusiasm in his voice cuts her. She watches as Zuko's face positively illuminates the room with a smile that abruptly and radically transforms his entire demeanor. He quickly moves to gather the subtly grinning girl into his arms. "They let you out of prison?"

Katara's stomach twists itself into painful knots, her eyes held captive by the path of graceful, pale, feminine fingers as they move deftly to assist the prince with his robe.

"My uncle pulled some strings," Mai intones as Zuko slips his arm through a sleeve. "And it doesn't hurt when the new Fire Lord is your boyfriend."

She's going to be sick any moment now, she knows it. She can't tear her gaze away as they exchange- well, what she supposes passes for flirting for the apathetic Fire Nation girl. The snow white hand belonging to those feminine fingers lightly comes to rest against Zuko's solid chest, and she wonders how that hand somehow looks more intimidating in this position than it ever had while throwing knives.

Katara doesn't know why she can't look away when his lips meet Mai's. Common courtesy dictates turning a blind eye to a couple so obviously seeking privacy. She knows that if her presence were discovered she would have no acceptable excuse for her hiding place, nothing to justify her presence in the Fire Prince's rooms. She should be getting ready herself, and she is fairly certain that Aang will be waiting for her so that they can go to the coronation together.

Yet her eyes are frozen to the glimpse of the scene she dares witness from behind the curtain. Time seems to slow a little as she watches the Fire Nation girl boldly pull Zuko's face down to hers. Her heartbeat falters briefly under a sudden vice-like tightness in her chest, and she is abruptly and acutely aware of its brief silence before it returns to thunder deafeningly in her eardrums.

The kiss seems to take an eternity, and with every passing second she knows she should stop watching, feels the growing guilt at witnessing such an intimate moment. But she can't bring herself to pull her eyes away, the pressure in her chest building and building until she can't stand it, until suddenly-

The small, pained hiccup of air that escapes through her lips is involuntary. She claps her hands over her mouth, horrified as she watches his shoulders tense and his head jerk in the direction of her hiding place.

"Did you hear that?"

If Katara had stayed, she would have heard his gravelly voice mutter the low question to his companion. If she had stayed, she would have watched his golden eyes narrow, wary, would have seen him stride quietly but purposefully in her direction. If she had stayed.

But she is gone, wiping tears from her eyes that she would prefer to pretend had never sprung to life as she hurries off to finish getting ready for the coronation. If anyone had questioned her, she would have pled ignorance of the entire event.

But in truth, her heart has been jarred awake. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had been maintaining the expectation of things between herself and the firebender remaining as they'd been on their journey- friendly bickering over chores, friendship based on a mutual passion for their elements and for doing good, sharing a common mission and common spirit. In some way that she doesn't quite yet understand, or at least want to admit, the kiss has woken her up from that expectation, setting everything alight in a dazzlingly blue electric flash.

It's all she can see that day as the crown of the Fire Nation is placed on Zuko's head, as the crowd cheers and as Aang clasps her hand tightly in his own: Zuko sprinting, his panicked features lit up with cobalt electricity, embracing the sizzling energy as it arcs through the fire-lit darkness. It's all she can feel as his lips form powerful words of hope to inspire the crowds before him: the way her heart had leapt into her throat in horror, the unadulterated fear that had paralyzed her every nerve as she had watched him collapse to the ground. How her heart had felt stretched from her body, too large to protect any longer within her suddenly cramped ribcage, bruising her with each beat.

In that blinding light of crackling electricity she is exposed and vulnerable, shamefully powerless, open to unimaginable pain. Fearful, she shies away, grasping Aang's hand ever tighter. Grey eyes meet hers, melting the electric terror with the calm familiarity of lamplight. And she smiles, tight and relieved.

This must be where she belongs.

She holds on to this feeling over the next few months, of warmth and soothing stability, as all of their lives begin to shift dramatically. Their shattered world must be rebuilt, and each of them finds their own role to play. Sokka and Suki start the journey south with Hakoda and the rest of the Water Tribe warriors, towards Kyoshi and the Southern Tribe. After helping his nephew settle into his new role, Iroh sets off for Ba Sing Se, having found himself better suited for a life of serving tea and restoring relations with the very city over which he had once sought conquest. Toph accompanies him, and though she gives Katara a number of adventurous justifications, the older girl has a hunch it's more out of affection for the old man than anything else.

In the midst of all these changes, she finds herself attached to Aang at the hip. It's natural, being by his side and helping him navigate his role as the Avatar. It's what she's been doing for over a year now after all, ever since she cracked open that iceberg. Her father, her brother, all their friends all seem to just assume that she will stay with Aang, and it's easy enough to acquiesce to the unspoken social expectation. So easy to just give in to the adoration shining from his expression when he looks at her, so simple and fitting and right to just stay.

He never officially asks her to travel with him, to be his guide and support as he prepares to travel to important cities across the world and herald the news of the end of the century-long war. He doesn't have to- she feels it in every grip of his hand under the table during official meetings, in the way he looks askance at her whenever anyone hands him official paperwork and in the eagerness of his kisses. He is a young adolescent with the burden of the world on his shoulders, and of course she will help him bear it. How could she do otherwise?

The first year passes like this, the two of them with Momo and Appa roaming the convalescing nations, establishing peace. And although deep in her bones she wearies of carrying all her worldly belongings in bags on the bison's saddle, her homesickness is allayed by the light and easy companionship she finds with the airbender at her side.

But there's something about their regular returns to the Fire Nation capital that feels like coming home. Every few months she and Aang find it useful to return to the palace to rendezvous with the four nations' newest sovereign to help with the desperately needed work of rebuilding a country left rudderless after a century of waging war. And for Katara, the palace begins to feel like relief. Often their other friends make an appearance as well, and there's something about returning to the last place that their little makeshift family was all together that's uniquely comforting. As the months of traveling begin to turn into years, she begins to think of the Fire Nation as the last place she truly called home.

~/~/~

"Have you ever thought about staying?"

Her question hangs in the warm lamplight, so gentle that it's almost whispered. Yet it's enough to have the teenage Avatar pull back, his lips leaving her jawline and his hands leaving her waist as he sits up on the settee. She straightens as well, blue eyes darting around the room before coming to settle on her hands twisted in her lap.

"What do you mean, staying?" She can feel his gray eyes looking down at her in confusion. "Like extending our stay? But we're supposed to leave in the morning. Everything is ready."

"I know." Oh, how she knows. Her eyes stay fixed on her hands. This latest visit to the Fire Nation capital has felt all too short, sand slipping so quickly through the hourglass, and it had been more than six months since their last visit. "I've just been thinking… Zuko seems so overwhelmed here, you saw the protests from Ozai's supporters outside the palace yourself. The Fire Nation could be at risk for civil war. And previous Avatars…"

Her voice, quiet from the start, trails off as her nerves fail her. But the ache in her chest is suddenly renewed, and she raises her gaze to meet his face, steadily. His expression is unreadable to her. "Previous Avatars settled in one place, after mastering the elements. They managed their diplomatic visits while keeping a home base. Maybe yours… ours, could be here?"

Her gaze shifted to the flickering lamp on the table, calmed by the steady dance of the flame. She felt him shift closer to her, and looked up again as he took her hand in his.

"Katara…" His voice, scratchy and slightly deeper than the child she had freed from the ice those years ago, immediately pierced her heart. "We can't. You know that. You know all the expectations everyone has, you know how delicate the balance is right now. I could be seen as showing favoritism to the Fire Nation. Or even worse, Zuko's own citizens could feel like I'm singling them out for supervision, or signaling the beginning of an occupation, and I could make everything even worse than it already is."

She sighs. "I suppose you're right." She knows he has a point. She knows that he's doing his best, and duty is something she knows most of all. And yet, she feels a seed of resentment begin to sprout within her chest. Because even if this nomadic lifestyle is the best choice for the world right now, it's undeniable that Aang is thriving under the same conditions that are leaving her weary to her bones. For the first time, her affection for him feels heavy, too heavy, and she feels her heart stumbling under the weight.

It's not fair.

But how can she explain any of these things to the boy sitting before her, concern filling his wide gray eyes? How can she be so selfish as to make him feel guilty about being who he is and fulfilling his duty? When all he's ever done is do his best to love her?

So instead of speaking, she forces a smile. "It was just a thought."

As his lips return to hers, she turns her gaze away from the small candle flame and closes her eyes.

~/~/~

It's raining on the day she writes her first letter to Zuko. It also happens to be Aang's sixteenth birthday.

They had spent the day together, avoiding all responsibilities and enjoying a visit to Kyoshi Island to see Sokka and Suki, who had just gotten engaged. Aang and Katara soon found the beach and spent the afternoon relaxing and waterbending, before gray clouds rolled in from the ocean.

"Come on, let's get out of here!" Aang takes her by the hand as they run through the rain, Katara waterbending an umbrella above their heads. Both of them are laughing as they arrive back at the guest house, bending the residual water from their hair and swimming clothes.

"I'll make us some tea," Katara calls out as they enter the house, and she walks towards the kitchen to put water on to boil. Low peals of thunder echoed out as the rain pelts on the roof, and she feels herself relax into the cozy sounds of the summer shower.

As she strikes a match to begin boiling the water, she suddenly feels arms wrap around her from behind and the heat of bare skin against her own. "You're so beautiful." He murmurs the words into her still-damp hair.

She turns around and leans into his embrace, eyes closing as he begins to kiss her. He's really gotten tall, she thinks absentmindedly. The warmth from his skin makes her dizzy. Before she knows it, they are stumbling over the entrance to his bedroom, and soon she is gazing up at him, breathless, pinned beneath him on the bed.

"Wait.." she breathes out, head spinning. This isn't the first time they've found themselves in a position like this. But it is the first time that Aang is pushing through his characteristic hesitation. Caught in the moment, he continues trailing kisses down her jaw, neck, and sternum as though she hadn't spoken. His hands are everywhere, tangled in her hair, tightly grasping her waist, brushing the underside of her breasts, tugging at the edges of her bindings.

There is a part of her that wants to continue, to lose herself in this moment. It's probably time for something like this, right? It would be easy. Although she had been raised in the modest, conservative social structure of the South Pole, her rigid boundaries had been broken down over the past few years as she adjusted to the easier affection shown by her young nomadic monk. It has become clear to her where Aang thinks their relationship is going. And it's not that she disagrees, in principle.

And yet, the words leave her lips again. "Hey, wait…"

He pauses, his clear eyes that are half-lidded with desire meeting her own. "You… you want to stop?"

Her heart cracks a little at the poorly-concealed disappointment in his voice. She hates to disappoint him in anything.

"I…" She can't find the words, can't explain herself, even in her own mind. When he pulls away, she shivers from the sudden absence of his body heat. She could still salvage this situation, she thinks, could still pull him back to her and give him what he so obviously wants.

The whistling of the long-forgotten tea kettle saves her from her dilemma. "Oops!" She scrambles out from under him, running back into the kitchen to prevent the water from boiling over.

A knock at the door a few moments later rescues her from having a further discussion, as Suki arrives to invite them to a celebratory dinner that evening. Katara tries to ignore the older girl's smirk at their relative state of undress. After the Kyoshi warrior leaves, Aang begins pulling on his clothes.

"I'm gonna head over early," he says, avoiding eye contact. "Sokka wanted to show me something before dinner."

"Yeah, that's great," she replies, a little too cheerfully. "Have fun!"

After the door closes behind him, she paces around the house, tidying up, trying to avoid the confusing mess of thoughts swirling in her head.

Why did I hesitate?

The rain is still coming down outside, mixing with the humidity and leaving the island in a steamy, sticky heat. She pulls her loose hair up and off her neck, staring out towards the shoreline that she can still see from the window.

It suddenly reminds her of another island from years ago, when all her dearest friends still lived just down the hall. Despite remembering the stress of an impending world-ending war, she misses the comfort of her found family, the ease with which they all laughed and worked together. Before everything got so complicated. Her heart aches, wondering when she will ever be in the same place with them all, wondering if she will ever feel that ease again. She feels that heavy weight again, her sense of duty crushing down on her as she bends under its burden.

It's not that Aang never shares this feeling, she thinks. It's that part of the weight comes from the knowledge that he needs her to take the heaviness and bear it for him. This thought fills her with a familiar loneliness, and she wraps her arms around herself. A deep guilt from feeling as though she has again failed to live up to expectations, to be everything that Aang needs her to be, fills her chest.

Her thoughts wind back to their last visit to the Fire Nation, to a familiar pair of golden eyes. Zuko had been so tired when she last saw him, worn down from all the political unrest and court vipers. Her heart went out to the young Fire Lord, bearing the impossible weight of atoning for the sins of a nation. And yet, he has accomplished impossible things in the past. She is confident that he can do so again.

It's this thought that leads her into her own bedroom, pulling out her writing instruments and securing a small missive to the messenger hawk's ankle. The words flow quickly onto the paper, coming to her with an ease she hadn't expected. "I've missed you!" her letter begins, and as she watches the messenger hawk disappear into the distance, she realizes how true that sentiment really is.

~/~/~

Two summers later, Aang's proposal does not come as a surprise. He had taken great pains to speak with her father alone on their last visit to the South Pole. And when he offered to take her on a trip to Omashu for her birthday, back to the place where they first kissed, even a badger mole could have seen what was coming next.

She had been nervous in the lead up to the trip. Getting engaged is supposed to make you nervous, she reassured herself. It's just butterflies.

Yet the heavy weight in her chest that she feels when Aang presents her with his beautifully carved engagement necklace does not feel like butterflies. Again, she feels the crushing weight of those expectations she can never live up to. The suffocating pressure of the joy on his face when she accepts his proposal, because she knows that the woman he is overjoyed to be marrying is the role she will be living up to for the rest of her life. He ties the silver ribbon around her neck, and for a moment she feels like she can't breathe.

This is good. This is what you wanted. You can do this, you will be happy. You can be what he needs.

That evening, their messenger hawk arrives, bearing birthday wishes from family and friends. She tries to ignore how eager she is to find a particular piece of correspondence, written in the elegant slanting characters she has come to treasure over the past few years.

Katara,

Happy birthday!

I hope you've had a wonderful day and that you feel appropriately celebrated. I also hope that this letter arrives in time. It's been so crazy here, I honestly almost forgot what day it was.

The preparations for the celebration of peace are overwhelming. Your suggestions for the guest list were well-taken and extremely helpful, I owe you one. Especially for the draft of the banquet seating chart you sent over. That was going to take me days to figure out on my own and could have had disastrous consequences if I screwed it up.

I hope you don't really believe what you said in your last letter, that you don't feel like the work you're doing is making a difference. For years, I've heard reports from leaders all over the world of how your diplomacy, passion, and cool head has been instrumental in forging new relationships between the nations. The consensus from nearly everyone I've spoken to is that when they invite the Avatar, one of the things they look forward to the most is the wise input provided by his beautiful waterbending master. (Their words, I swear!)

I wish I had more time, but my ministers are calling me into yet another meeting. I hope you've had a great birthday and that you know just how much you're appreciated. Take some time off from saving the world today and enjoy yourself.

-Zuko

She involuntarily raises her hand to touch her new necklace as she reads the words, twice, three times. They fill her with a warmth she's afraid to understand and reach a place inside her that she has long tried to conceal, the one created as she lost her mother and her father sailed off to war and she first began to shoulder the burdens of her tribe. The part of her that desperately wants to be enough, yet knows the task is absolutely futile.

Over the following weeks, she sits down several times to pen a reply. But the words that usually come so easily feel stuck. She throws away many drafts, becoming increasingly frustrated that one of her favorite pastimes has inexplicably become difficult. But as the celebration of peace draws nearer and the prospect of returning to the Fire Nation becomes more real, she knows he deserves a response.

They haven't publicly announced their engagement yet. She had told Aang it would be advantageous to announce the news at the celebration of peace in a couple of months, as it would help create an atmosphere of joy and new beginnings. It was a good idea, and he agreed easily. She tells herself that it's just a happy side effect that the brief reprieve calms her rising feeling of (panic? no, just nerves).

Finally, the thought of Zuko's own nerves brings her to finish a reply. Though he had been lighthearted about it in his last letter, she knows that a lot is riding on this event for the public perception of his reign, and he must be incredibly nervous. Although he has truly grown into the role thrust upon him at such a young age, wearing his crown well and fooling most, he has been more honest with her than with most. She remembers well the angry young teenager who she first met, and knows that anger had been a mask to conceal the frightened and grieving boy underneath. Although he has exchanged his masks, she sometimes feels like that boy must still be hiding beneath the confident and capable exterior.

Like her, he has become what he needs to be, bearing the weight of others' burdens for the greater good. She wonders if it's as heavy for him as it is for her.

Dear Zuko,

Thank you for your kind birthday message! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reply. We've been busy with preparations as well.

I know the preparations must be stressful to pull together, and I'm always happy to help however I can. I know this celebration is critical to get just right. Please let me know if there's anything else I can help with before we arrive.

Speaking of our arrival, I'm so excited to see you! I can't wait to talk and catch up about everything that's happened this past year, it feels like so long since we've gotten to visit. I'm sure so much has happened.

She briefly considers including the news of her engagement. Balking at the surge of (panic? No, just nerves) that idea creates in her, she decides to let it be as much of a surprise to him as it will be for everyone else.

Also, you still owe me portraits of baby Zuko. I haven't forgotten! When I arrive, I expect to be accompanied as I go hunting through every old, dusty room in the palace. You're not weaseling out of it this time.

Please don't be too nervous about this celebration. It's going to be a success! I'm confident that you're doing the right thing, as always, for the Fire Nation.

See you soon,

-Katara

~/~/~

Seeing Zuko again brings relief that she hadn't even known she needed. Amidst the chaos of her family and friends' congratulations, she seeks out his steady golden gaze as he approaches her and Aang. Again, she dimly realizes that it feels just like coming home.

"I am truly happy for you," he says with a smile. Is she imagining that it doesn't quite reach his eyes?

"Thank you," she smiles back. Inside, she wills her heart not to crack open.

Zuko lets out a short laugh as he gives Aang a friendly shove. "You're a lucky man, Avatar. I've been hearing reports from all over the world that she's your better half."

Aang grins. "No kidding!"

She immediately thinks back to Zuko's last letter, where he had expressed the same sentiment to her, and her thoughts stay fixated there throughout the evening. As she fields a deluge of questions from loved ones about their wedding plans and requests to recount the proposal story, she grows increasingly uncomfortable with the attention, and thinking of his letter helps to ground her. Take some time off from saving the world and enjoy yourself.

When was the last time she had gotten to do that?

It's late when the celebratory energy in the room finally begins to disperse and the guests start to leave for bed. Aang is still locked in conversation with Sokka, and she puts a hand on his shoulder to bid goodnight as she rises to leave. He flashes a smile at her before returning to his conversation.

She passes Zuko on her way out the door, and gives her host a tired smile. His presence has the same relaxing effect as the summer showers she is so fond of. "Portrait hunting tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he promises with a laugh. Again, it seems like his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and through her fatigue she hopes he's not too stressed about the celebration.

As she nears the door to her bedroom, she's stopped by warm fingers wrapping around her own. Turning, she realizes Aang has followed her out of the party after all.

"You didn't think you were leaving without your fiance, did you?" he jokes, opening the door and pulling her inside.

"I'm so tired," she yawns, trying to ignore the way her heart has sped up in (panic? no, just nerves). He cuts off her yawn with a kiss.

"I can think of a way to keep you awake," he grins. And then all too soon, she finds herself back in the same position as two summers before, pinned underneath her eager airbender.

"Aang…" He takes the way she breathes out his name for encouragement, slipping her dress all the way off and again his hands are everywhere. She can't breathe for (panic? no, it's the excitement, it's always those damn nerves) and she pushes back against his shoulders. "Aang." He can't mistake the hesitation in her voice this time.

He pauses abruptly, breathing hard, body trembling with the effort. "What's wrong?"

She tries and fails to speak, the words stuck in her throat. "I- I can't-"

He sighs and sits back, gray eyes piercing her blue ones. She looks down, unable to hold his gaze. "Something isn't right," he says, and it's not a question. "Is it really important to you to wait until the wedding? If it is, I understand, just tell me. I just want to know what's wrong. Please, you can tell me anything."

That last part bursts the dam, and tears start rolling down her cheeks. The feelings she's pushed down for years, that sprouted seed of resentment that has only continued to grow, all of it comes rushing out. She finally meets his eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of despair. "No, Aang. I can't tell you anything."

He leans away from her as if she slapped him. "What does that mean?"

The weight is finally too much, and she feels like she's collapsing beneath it. She can't breathe, can't think straight anymore. "It's too much," she gasps out, the tears coming faster now. "All of it. Being everything you need me to be."

He tries to take her hand, but she pulls away. "Katara, what do you mean? You're perfect!" he cries out. "You are absolutely everything I could ever want or need in a wife. Everyone else sees it too."

She lets out a choking laugh that's more of a sob. "I know. And that's the problem." She buries her face in her hands. "It's crushing me."

All the homesickness, all the loneliness, the pressure, the guilt, it's too much. She breaks under the weight. The reactions of her family and friends, all the questions about the future, have made it all too real. And having to refuse his affections one last time has cracked her heart in two, beyond repair. It all comes tumbling out of her mouth, and she watches pain take over his features as she finally unburdens herself.

This is what she has been so desperate to avoid for so long– causing him pain. Ever since she found the boy in the iceberg, all she has wanted was to take his pain, carry his burdens. And yet as she finally releases that weight, despite the cutting knowledge that she had hurt him so deeply, it almost feels worth the guilt for the relief that follows in its wake.

When she is finally through, her necklace is choking her, cutting off her air supply. So she does the unthinkable, without another thought. There is no other option. She unties the silver ribbon and places it down on the bed between them. Aang lets out a low cry as she does, but otherwise has no words for her.

"I can't do this." The tears are still streaming down her face. Standing, she finds her dress discarded on the floor and pulls it back over her head. "I have to go."

~/~/~

As her footsteps hurry down the cool stone floors of the Fire Nation palace, the silent tears won't stop coming. Blessedly, she doesn't run into anyone else. She doesn't know where she's going, simply desperate to leave that room where the pieces of the last five years of her life had abruptly shattered on the floor.

A feeling of shame has settled deep in her chest. She wants to feel the relief, the freedom of being out from under the expectations that had ruled her life for so long. But all she can feel is a new weight– the knowledge that she has let Aang down, let everyone down. That she has once again failed, that she can never, ever be enough. The little lonely girl inside her with the weight of a village on her shoulders spews vindictive words at her. Weak. Selfish. Useless. Disappointment. Failure.

Through blurred vision, Katara realizes that her feet are tracing the same path they had five years ago. She finds herself eventually standing before a familiar, ornate door. Zuko's room.

The memory of his coronation day, years before, adds an old pain to the fresh wounds of her broken engagement, and an involuntary quiet sob finally leaves her lips. Reaching a hand out, she finds she can't bring herself to knock, and she turns to leave.

As she does, the door suddenly swings wide, and Zuko stands before her. His dark hair has left its customary topknot, and she notices that he's let it grow out past his shoulders. Befitting of a Fire Lord. But he doesn't look like a Fire Lord right now. Wearing a robe over his simple clothes for sleeping and with his hair down, he reminds her of the boy she knew five years ago, desperate for redemption and willing to sacrifice anything to atone for his sins.

"Katara?" The surprise in his voice melts into concern. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

She laughs bitterly, knowing she can't disguise her tear-stained face or explain her presence standing outside his bedroom door. Knowing there's no point to lying. "No. It's not."

She feels his eyes zero in on her bare neck, and he lets out a breath. "I guess it really isn't."

She fails to notice as he slips a thin scroll he had held in his hand into the pocket of his robe. "Would you like to come with me?" He asks gently.

He takes her to his favorite place in the palace. Amidst the moonlit garden, koi fish swim lazy circles in the small pond. Its usual inhabitants, the turtle ducks, are tucked away in their nest for the night, babies safely cuddled up with their mother. She sinks down onto the stone bench, burying her face in her hands. She feels Zuko take a seat next to her. He doesn't say a word, letting the silence stretch out between them. She takes a steadying breath.

"I couldn't do it," she finally confesses. "I'm not strong enough. I can't be what he needs." Another soft sob tears its way out of her chest. "I can't be what anyone needs."

She looks up, startled, as he takes her hand. "First of all, none of those things are true. But why do you feel like it's your responsibility to carry everything for everyone?" Golden eyes pierce her to her core. It's a question she has never known she needed to answer. She has simply always known it to be true.

Seeming to sense that she has no answer, he continues on. "It's not. You're human, Katara. You are an amazing human, that's true. You do so much for everyone around you. But you need to make sure you're taking care of yourself, too."

The shame that's wound tightly around her heart doesn't budge, but she feels the pain dull slightly, anyway. "I don't think I know how to do that."

"No kidding." He leans back, glancing up at the moon before turning back to face her. She is captivated by the sudden vulnerability in his expression. "I don't think… I don't think you remember how to let other people take care of you." He takes a breath. She can't look away. "You have people who love you, Katara. Who want to take care of you, especially when you can't do it yourself."

She snorts, looking down. "Who? Sokka? He's a good brother, but I always had to be the responsible one. My dad? He hasn't known how to take care of me since he sailed halfway around the world to go to war." Her hands are trembling. "Everyone else is gone. Scattered everywhere. They barely write." She gives him a crooked smile. "Except for one."

"Except for one," he agrees. Giving her space to continue.

"Mom knew how," she confesses lowly, feeling the cracks in her heart start to widen. "She always knew. I think that's the last time I felt safe." The tears threaten to start falling again; she forces them back angrily.

A beat passes. "You didn't mention…"

She sighs. "I know." The pause extends into the night, becoming almost uncomfortable.

"What… what happened?" he asks, and his voice almost sounds afraid. She can't place the reason. "Everything seemed fine at dinner."

"I honestly don't really know how to explain it," she forces the words out. "He came back with me after dinner, and it was just…" She trails off, feeling the sharp edges of her guilt piercing into her chest again.

"Too much." He finishes her thought for her. She nods, not trusting herself to speak.

"I'm sorry," he offers. And maybe it's the steady warmth of his presence, or the unassuming way he is there for her without expecting anything of her, or the way he is looking at her. Like he knows things about her that she doesn't know herself, like she is the singular object of his attention. Like he would do anything to carry those burdens she can't seem to let go of. But when he hesitantly reaches out his arm around her shoulders, she fully turns into his chest and clings onto him for dear life.

Somehow, she still has tears left. They run down her face and into his clothes as he wraps his arms around her, holding her together. Her shoulders shake gently with quiet sobs. "I'm sorry," she apologizes into his chest. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." His words come out low, nearly whispered into her hair. "I'm the one that's sorry, that you've been bearing all of this alone, all this time." Maybe she imagines the kiss, light as air, pressed to the top of her head. "Let me take it."

"You've been taking it for a long time," she manages through her tears. "Your letters… they've been the only thing that helps, sometimes." Another sob comes out. "I still have nightmares about you jumping in front of Azula's lightning for me. You're always there, carrying it for me, getting hurt for me. It's not fair, I can't ask more of you…"

He grips her tighter. "You're not asking. I would do it all again." His words only make her tears flow faster. I don't deserve this.

She isn't sure how long they sit like this, but by the time he releases her, her tears are gone and the pain isn't quite so searing. This leaves room for embarrassment at her rash actions, and she flushes red. "I really am so sorry, Zuko. It was so inappropriate of me to come and find you, to drag you out here."

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, fully dropping his arms and turning back to face the pond. For a moment, she thinks he's in agreement. Finally, he speaks. "The truth is, I was actually coming… to find you."

Her mind goes blank in surprise. Whatever she expected, it wasn't that. "You were? Why?"

He still won't look at her, his eyes everywhere but her face. "Zuko?"

She hears him curse under his breath. "Well, I didn't expect… I didn't realize…" He runs a hand through his hair, and she catches a glimpse of the angsty sixteen year old she remembers from all those years ago.

"Zuko?"

He looks like he's wrestling with himself, and finally his hand reaches inside his robe pocket, bringing out the scroll she hadn't noticed he had with him. "This… is for you. I was bringing it to you."

In confusion, she waits for him to hand it to her. He doesn't move. "Um, are you going to give it to me?"

He groans. "I was going to, before… I knew what kind of a night you were having. Now I'm not so sure it's the right time."

Now her curiosity is piqued, and there is no way in hell she is letting him get away with that. "Well, too bad. Now I know it's for me, and you have to let me read it."

He still doesn't move. His eyes drop to the sleeping turtle ducks in their nest. "Actually… would you mind, if I read it to you? It feels silly, to just hand it to you and let you read it when I'm right here."

"Sure." She waits. He still doesn't move. "Come on, Zuko. You've written me a bunch of letters. What's the difference with this one?"

He laughs. Then, he starts reading. And her world tilts on its axis.

~/~/~

Uncle Iroh sees the kiss.

His room overlooks the garden, and he had been enjoying the peace of the full moon through his window when he noticed his nephew enter the garden. The palace is quiet, everyone having retired to their rooms for the evening. He assumes that's why the two figures below had come to the garden, assuming that no one would notice their presence.

But Iroh had noticed.

He recognizes the second person instantly as the waterbending master that he credits for ultimately helping Zuko back on the right path. He hears her quiet tears as she sits on the bench with his nephew and sees the comforting embrace he offers in return.

Iroh considers closing his window, allowing the two young benders the privacy they are so obviously seeking. Common courtesy dictates it, of course.

But he has been waiting for years for these two to realize the obvious perfect match between them, and time seems to slow down as he impatiently waits for the outcome of their conversation. Nephew, don't be a fool. She is exactly what we all need. He holds his breath when Zuko takes out a scroll and begins to read aloud. He can't hear the words from this distance, only the affection in his nephew's voice that's mirrored in his expression.

Iroh smiles when Katara interrupts his nephew's words with a kiss, flinging her arms around his shoulders. She pulls back, smiling, before speaking more words he can't make out. Then Zuko leans back down to kiss her again, deeply.

Grinning, the elderly firebender leans back from the window, leaving them to their moment. For the moment, he chooses not to focus on the consequences to international diplomacy and the deep friendships that this development may bring. He is simply happy to imagine his adorable grandnephews and nieces, golden-eyed and waterbending through the halls of the palace.