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Zuko was dreaming again.
Dreaming of her.
This time, all he could see was a large, opulent room, much like one of the halls in his old home, filled with people from all nations. That scene, in reality, would certainly be hard to believe, but his dreams weren’t exactly known for being consistent with reality, so the variety of colors and styles filling the room wasn’t exactly something he cared much about. Instead, his unfocused attention turned to a prominent figure who was walking gracefully through the hall, talking to different people.
The woman wore clothing in the traditional style of the Fire Nation, but instead of the vivid, eye-catching shades of red, there were the deepest shades of blue that surrounded her like a moving ocean, hugging every curve perfectly and creating a silhouette that enchanted him. She wore a long braid down her back, at the end of which shone a decorative moon-shaped comb that—for some reason that eluded Zuko in his dreamlike state—he knew symbolized power.
The closer he got, the more she turned toward him, slowly revealing glacier-blue eyes that he knew all too well after spending night after night replaying every fight he’d ever had with her.
Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.
“Fire Lady,” his mind whispered, as if it were a truth he knew instinctively.
Before anything else could happen, he woke up from his dream, gasping for breath and sweating as if he’d been running for days. It took a while for Zuko to realize where and when he was, clutching the cold stone on his wrist to remind himself that everything was fine and that there was nothing wrong around him. His dreams of Katara had become increasingly frequent after the Agni Kai; the waterbender’s presence in his life had become absolutely essential—and not just for medical reasons.
The former prince had been dreaming of her for a long time, and if he were honest with himself, he could say it had been happening ever since the first time he saw her in the Southern Water Tribe, intrigued by that girl who had challenged him even while clearly at a disadvantage and who continued to challenge him in every encounter they had, winning most of the time.
After Ba Sing Se, while living among his compatriots once more, he dreamed of what had happened in the Crystal Catacombs, the betrayal he had committed growing increasingly bitter in his throat. He had spent long hours awake, rethinking the decision he had made before leaving for the Air Temple, where the woman of his dreams hadn’t even looked him in the face for a very long time.
And yet Zuko continued to dream of her.
And as events unfolded, Katara remained in his thoughts.
Even now, when she was likely already somewhere far out at sea on her way home, the waterbender hadn’t left him—not completely, at least. In the days following the departure of the Avatar and the Water Tribe siblings after his coronation, palace servants found Katara’s necklace among the pillows in her chambers and handed it to the Fire Lord so he could return it to her.
Zuko, selfishly, never returned it and continued to dream of eyes as blue as the sea and the ghost of a gentle touch.
∘₊✧——— ☾𖤓 ———✧₊∘
Katara was dreaming again.
Dreaming of him.
When she was younger, she used to dream of a thousand ways to get rid of those liquid-gold eyes that seemed to follow her not only from pole to pole, but into the world of her imagination as well. At first, the waterbender hadn’t paid any attention to those meaningless dreams, seeing no significance in any of it, but after Ba Sing Se, the angry boy from her dreams had been replaced by something different.
Something she considered terribly human.
In her dreams, Zuko was no longer just the Fire Prince or the one hunting them down for the Avatar, but rather a more personal presence—almost as if she’d known him her whole life. On those first few nights, her mind would replay what had happened in the Crystal Catacombs over and over, her focus shifting each time to a different detail, even as she tried to stop her mind from doing so.
Suddenly, he reappeared in their lives, and Katara is the first to want him to leave again, even though her subconscious tells her otherwise. Despite her rudeness and her clear reluctance to be around him, Zuko helps her with every task he can around the camp, and her dreams are filled with thoughts of what everyday life with him would be like in a world where peace wasn’t a foreign concept to all of them.
The Agni Kai had been a complete nightmare for her. During the weeks the new Fire Lord spent bedridden, recovering from the lightning strike that had struck him, she had dreamed of the thousand possibilities that it might go wrong and he might not wake up. Her dreams had been filled with infections, damage to the heart or other organs, and other medical issues she could treat, but in the deepest hours of the night, they had become enemies more formidable than Azula.
Even if she tried to deny it, Katara had been dreaming of Zuko for much longer than she should have. As she spent her days in the new Air Temple, watching the construction of Republic City in the distance—now that she was a good thirty years old and had many doubts about her choices—the bender would dream of Zuko. She once dreamed of what he would look like wearing the traditional clothes of his tribe in a world where that strange thing that had once existed—she didn’t know if it still existed—bloomed into something beautiful.
In another dream, they were walking together through the Royal House on Ember Island, and out of the corner of her eye, Katara could see Zuko wearing robes that were less formal than the ones she knew he wore on a daily basis, and she could also see that he was holding something in his arms. When, days later, she forced her mind to remember what it was, she would see the image of a little girl with golden eyes like his and dark skin like hers.
A blend of both.
When she woke up, gasping for breath and with a aching chest, she found Aang sleeping beside her with the same calmness he had for everything, and she felt guilty for wishing for a different life.
∘₊✧——— ☾𖤓 ———✧₊∘
Years later, when his beard was as long as his late uncle’s and his hair had long since turned white, Zuko would once again dream of Katara, unaware that she, too, was dreaming of him.
It would be a long time before he went to her, traveling to see Izumi first before making any decision that could change both his life and part of the political landscape of the current world. On a hot summer afternoon, Zuko would sit with his daughter and tell her everything that had been on his mind about Katara since he was young—from the first invasion to her tribe to the encounters they’d had over the years. Nothing physical had ever happened, but it was still something he’d kept to himself.
Izumi, to his surprise, looked him in the eye with a skeptical expression and said:
“What are you waiting for, then?”
“It’s been years.” That was the excuse he gave. “We barely talk, and…”
“Father,” interrupted the current Fire Lady, slamming her cup of jasmine tea down on the table. “There’s nothing stopping you. If she doesn’t want things to develop, then that’s Master Katara’s choice, but there’s still a chance she might want it too.”
And with that encouragement, he traveled across the world to the Southern Water Tribe.
It had been quite a while since he’d set foot in that place, but something in his heart told him that she was still in the same house she’d been in since the last time he’d visited. People glanced at him out of the corner of their eyes as he passed by, finding his presence strange since there were no political issues or global problems unfolding at the moment, but no one bothered to say anything as he made his way to the elder woman’s house.
Hesitantly, he knocked on the wooden door as he had done many times in his dreams, hearing movement inside the house before the door opened, revealing a figure he didn’t see very often. She was wearing the traditional clothing of the Water Tribes, so much like his mother at that age that his heart nearly skipped a beat, thinking he was seeing a ghost.
“Uncle Zuko!” Kya exclaimed, hugging her uncle with a smile, which he returned almost immediately. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Is Izumi okay?”
“Everything is fine, Kya. You don’t need to worry,” the older man replied as he stepped back, unable to help but be infected by the girl’s smile. His eyes wandered inside the house, but he couldn’t see anything. “Is Katara here?”
“Yes!” The young woman quickly slipped her arm through her uncle’s, leading him inside and closing the door with her foot. “Come on, I’ll take you to her.”
They strolled leisurely through the hallways of the traditional house, passing family portraits spanning many years and several rooms that—from the few letters he’d exchanged with Katara over the years—he knew had been empty for a long time. Kya stopped at the end of the hallway, knocking lightly on the last door.
“Mom?” he called gently, opening the door a crack. “Someone’s here to see you!”
And there she was, her hair also white and her back slightly stooped, just like his grandmother before her, if he remembered correctly. Katara was sitting on the small balcony overlooking the rest of the tribe at the end of her room, cross-legged on a cushion, with a teapot still steaming beside her, along with two glasses and a Pai Sho board. When she turned toward him, it was as if the world lit up for the first time with the smile she offered him, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on flashing through her eyes the moment she saw the firebender.
“It seems that fire always ends where it begins, doesn’t it?” she said, gesturing for him to sit down beside her.
“I didn’t know you’d become a philosopher.” Zuko approached, sitting down on the cushion next to her in the sunlight.
“I had a great teacher.” She was talking about Iroh, he knew. His heart warmed, and the two exchanged knowing smiles.
Kya left the room not long after that, saying something about leaving them alone before closing the door. In the silence, Katara poured the tea while Zuko slowly arranged the game pieces in their proper places, as if the world had to conform to their will and not the other way around. The game began without any announcement; both were lost in their own thoughts while focusing on the game, moving the pieces as they pondered what to say.
“I…” Zuko began, pausing to counter a move by the elderly woman. He wondered if this was how he should start, but it was better to get it over with once and for all. “I have something that belongs to you.” And with a gesture, he pulled Katara’s necklace from his robes, hearing a sharp intake of breath beside him.
He slid the object across the table until it was closer to her, watching her wrinkled hand hold the stone with such reverence, gazing at the jewel she’d once thought she’d never see again in her life. A small tear rolled down Katara’s cheek, her eyes fixed on the waves carved into the bluish stone, memories of her mother flooding her mind like a storm.
“I thought I’d lost it.” The bender brought the necklace close to her chest, holding it over her heart. A small, frustrated laugh escaped her. “Again. Why does my necklace always end up with you?”Another piece was moved on the board.
“Maybe it's some kind of sign.” He took a sip of his tea, moving his pieces once more to try not to make his intentions so obvious.
“Anything to say, Fire Lord?” she teased, wiping away the tears that didn’t quite match the smile spreading across her face.
“You tell me, Master Waterbender.” he replied, mirroring her smile.
Silence fell over them once more, the game continuing as if no conversation had taken place. Katara, letting her old necklace rest on her lap as they played, remembered the dream she’d had nearly forty years ago or more, and for a second, that old feeling that had hung between them made itself present once again: the stolen glances, the discreet smiles, and the stillness that didn’t need to be filled.
“I dreamed about you,” Katara confessed, without looking directly at the man beside her. She knew she didn’t need to say anything in return for what had been given back to her, but she decided to speak anyway. “Recently, I mean.”
“Really?” The former Fire Lord received an affirmative nod in response, taking a deep breath before making his own confession. “It’s happened to me, too.”
“And what do you dream about when you dream of me?”
“Why don't you tell me first what you dreamed about?”
Katara's hand reached out toward Zuko's.
His old heart skipped another beat.
She took a different path. The old woman smiled.
“Because I won.”
“What?!” Zuko looked frantically at the board in front of him, realizing that his mind had wandered too far during the game.
The laugh that escaped the waterbender left him speechless and infected him just as her daughter had done earlier. 'Like mother, like daughter,' he thought, before rearranging the board once more to buy some time before he had to speak. The dream he’d had about her during his recovery from the lightning strike to his chest came back to him, and he knew it was once again time to be completely honest with her.
“Once,” he took a deep breath, the images flooding back into his mind effortlessly, “when I was recovering from the Agni Kai, I dreamed of you. I dreamed I was in the palace hall, where there was a woman walking back and forth, and the closer she got, the more I realized it was you.” His gaze drifted away for a long moment as he spoke. “You were so… beautiful. I mean, it’s not that you aren’t… you’re still very beautiful, and I think you’re amazing, and…”
“Zuko,” the elder called, cutting off his stammering. “I think I understand now.”
“Sorry.” He looked down at his own glass, wishing he could crawl into a hole. “I'm terrible at this.”
“It’s okay.” A small smile formed on her lips as she focused on the necklace before speaking. “After the Agni Kai, when you were in that coma after what Azula did, I kept dreaming that you wouldn’t wake up. I dreamed of everything that could go wrong, and, Zuko, it was really scary back then.”
His hand reached across the table in a small act of courage, taking hers in his and intertwining their fingers. Katara looked at him in surprise before returning the gesture, giving a gentle squeeze in response.
“I’m here,” Zuko said softly. “I’m okay.”
“And I couldn’t let that happen,” she confessed, in her own act of courage.
“No,” he echoed. “You couldn’t. But I’m here now, and so are you.”
“So is that what this sudden visit is about?” she asked.
“Partly,” he replied. “I wanted to give you back your cord… and I wanted to see you.”
Her heart skipped a beat for a second, feeling the warmth of the former Fire Lord’s palm against hers and hearing the blood rushing through her pulse.
“Do you want to give this a chance?”
“If you do.”
Neither of them spoke for a long time before Katara nodded slightly, agreeing with what had been said. With no other words to be said—or rather, that they didn’t want to say—they reset the Pai Sho board and moved on to another game, followed by yet another and another, until night fell without either of them noticing. Kya appeared only once during their gathering, bringing some snacks and a fresh pot of tea, smiling as she left with the image of her mother laughing again after so many years.
In the younger waterbender’s memory, this was the happiest she’d seen Katara in many years, her laughter echoing throughout the house.
Along with uncle Zuko’s laughter.
Despite how cheerful they felt around each other, their bodies weren’t as young as they once were, and as the darkest hour of the night approached, they were both nearly falling asleep. They walked toward the entrance of the elderly woman’s house arm in arm, stopping by the door and carried by the old energy they shared. Katara, to his surprise, placed her necklace in Zuko’s pale hands, turning her back to him and tucking her braid away from the nape of her neck.
“Could you put it on for me, please?” she asked gently.
“Sure.” And so he did, feeling a slight shiver as his fingers touched the still-soft skin of the woman in front of him. Their eyes met when she turned around, both smiling as if they were teenagers again, lost in a sort of trance. “I should go now.” he murmured, breaking the spell.
“Oh, right.” She slowly opened the door, watching as he left the small property. “And Zuko?” she called out before he got too far away.
“Yes?”
“Keep dreaming about me.”
The smile he gave her was priceless, and to Katara, it made all the years leading up to that moment worth it. When both of them dream again, they see each other with wrinkles and white hair, surrounded by tea in some unremarkable place.
Just as, deep down, they had always dreamed.