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The water laps against the shores of Ember Island. Katara finds herself on the beach with Zuko after their lessons with Aang are done for the day, absentmindedly playing with the tide while he makes the flames in their campfire jump and dance. At one time, that probably would’ve frightened her, but it no longer does. Fire will always be dangerous, she supposes, but this fire is warm and gentle, and she trusts him to keep it that way.
“I never knew the Fire Nation had so much water,” she murmurs.
“It’s an archipelago,” he says, a note of amusement in his tone. “What were you expecting?”
She shrugs.
“I never had much reason to think about it,” she admits. “I guess I always just imagined volcanoes and scorching heat.”
It has those things, certainly. In some ways, Katara feels very out of place here, accustomed as she is to the cold, snowy world of the South Pole. But it’s surprising, just how much she likes this world of tropical seas and rivers.
“We had waterbenders, once,” Zuko says quietly. “Before the war.”
“Really?” Katara looks at him in surprise.
“Like you said, there’s a lot of water. Nobody talks about it anymore, but… a long time ago, when there was peace, Water Tribe ships used to stop here, to pick up more supplies on their way between the north and south poles. Would it surprise you to learn that some of the sailors liked it here, and decided to stay?”
Katara just stares at him for a moment. It does surprise her, but only because she never considered such a possibility. It’s so far removed from the present-day reality that it almost sounds absurd. And yet…
“I can see why.”
She doesn’t bother to ask what happened to those sailors or their descendants. She’s not so naive as to believe the answer is a pleasant one.
They don’t talk about Yon Rah, or Ba Sing Se, or any of the history between them. They just sit side-by-side, two hearts beating, two people wishing for a long-distant past unlike anything they’ve ever known.
“I’m not sure the rest of the world will ever trust us that much again,” he says quietly. “Not after everything we’ve done. But I hope, someday…”
Katara can almost see it now. The port cities of the Fire Nation, full of ships from all over the world, streets bustling with people, blue and green fabric mixed in with red. A fallen empire rebuilt as a hub for trade and a haven for travelers far from home.
“For what it’s worth, I hope so, too.”
They both fall silent for a moment, breathing in the salty spray of the sea. Then she speaks again.
“There was a fishing village on a polluted river.”
He turns to look at her, confusion evident in his furrowed brow and questioning eyes. But as she speaks, she can see that he understands - not just the story of the Painted Lady, but what she’s really trying to say by telling it.
“I didn’t realize you cared so much for my people.”
“They’re people,” she says. “And they’re suffering, too. Not in the same way as the Water Tribes or the Earth Kingdom, but…”
She lets her voice trail off, suddenly weary of this whole thing. It’s been a long time since she hated the Fire Nation, if it was ever really hatred and not just fear. She’s not the sort of person who can see human beings in pain and think they deserve it just because they happen to be the enemy. How could a village full of starving children be the enemy, anyway? Just because their eyes came in shades of amber and gold and their bending, if they had it, would be fire?
“I’m doing this for them, as much as anybody else,” Zuko says, breaking the silence yet again. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m here because the Fire Lord needs to go down and the war needs to end. But…”
He awkwardly shakes his head. In the dim light, she thinks she can see a flush in his cheeks. She reaches out to touch his wrist.
“I understand.”
He turns to look at her, a silent question in his eyes: Do you?
“You’re loyal to your people, but not your father. You don’t think he’s what’s best for them. That’s not really so complicated.”
“Isn’t it?” asks Zuko. “He’s the Fire Lord. Most people would consider me a traitor for going against him.”
Most people, maybe. But she notices that he doesn’t call himself that, not really.
“Things are different, where I’m from,” she says. “Our leaders don’t hold such absolute power. If people don’t like a chief’s decisions, they can bring it up in a village meeting, or they can ask the elders to remove him, and then - well, it doesn’t matter, the point is that our leaders owe something to their people, and we can get rid of them if they’re not upholding their end of the bargain.”
“That’s…” Zuko looks at her with a bewildered expression. “Really? I mean, how does the chief even stay in power, if people can just challenge him like that?”
“People respect him because he’s a good leader,” she says. “Or, at least, I think so. But he’s my father, so -”
“You’re the chief’s daughter?”
His voice betrays his obvious surprise, and Katara blinks at him, realizing for the first time that he probably had no idea. It’s never felt important to bring up.
“It doesn’t mean much. I’m not a princess or anything. That’s not how it works.”
She can see the wheels in his head turning, and she doesn’t bother to ask what that’s about. If it’s important, she’ll find out eventually.
“You’ll be a good Fire Lord when the time comes,” she tells him. “You do care about your people, and so you’ll be the sort of leader they’ll respect the way we respect our chiefs. Not just someone they obey because they’re afraid not to.”
He stares at her as if the idea has never crossed his mind.
“It won’t be me. My uncle…”
“Iroh? Yeah. I remember him. But you’re the Fire Lord’s son. Isn’t that how it goes?”
To her surprise, he shakes his head. “My father’s an usurper. Uncle was the firstborn. It always should’ve been him. And he’ll be on your side, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m pretty sure he was with you long before I was.”
“Hmm…” Katara nods. “From what I’ve seen, you and your uncle are very close. And I’ve never heard of him having any kids.”
Zuko says nothing. From the way his jaw twitches, there’s a story there. But Katara doesn’t ask.
“If he becomes Fire Lord, wouldn’t you be his heir?”
A dark shadow crosses Zuko’s face. He’s silent for a long while, and when he speaks, there’s a heaviness to his voice that wasn’t there before.
“I betrayed him. He doesn’t owe me anything. I’m not sure if he’ll even forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it.”
Katara isn’t so sure of that. She happens to find the Fire Prince a surprisingly forgivable person, all things considered. And if she feels that way, she figures his uncle probably will, too. But she says nothing, just moves a little closer to him and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.
“What about you?” he asks. “What will you do, when this is all over?”
Katara remains silent, suddenly unsure of herself. For so long, her goal was to learn waterbending, and then to teach it to Aang and help him defeat the Fire Lord. That’s always felt like such a far-off goal that she’s given very little thought to what might come next for her.
But to her surprise, she does have an answer.
“I grew up as the only waterbender in my tribe,” she says. “But there might be more in the next generation. If there are, I want to be their teacher. I don’t want them to have to travel all the way to the North Pole the way I did, or be told what they can and can’t learn because of their gender.”
Zuko’s eyebrows shoot up, and she realizes that’s another thing he probably didn’t know about.
“In the north, men fight and women heal,” she explains. “But I’d teach all my students both, or whichever one they actually want to learn.”
She catches a hint of amusement in Zuko’s eyes.
“They really believe women can’t fight?” he asks incredulously.
She can guess what he’s thinking, even if he doesn’t say it aloud: they’ve clearly never met his sister.
“Yes, well, they’re wrong, obviously,” she says. “And they did let me fight. Eventually.”
“They’d be fools not to,” he says. “You’re a great waterbender. And a great teacher. I’ve seen how you are with Aang. The kids from your tribe will be lucky to have you.”
He’s smiling, but there’s something a bit strained in his voice. She thinks she understands. It’s strange to imagine that, in not too long, they might all go their separate ways. She’s known the others in their group - aside from Sokka - for such a short time, and yet the bonds that they’ve formed don’t feel like the sort of thing that ought to be cast aside simply because they no longer need each other.
“It’ll probably be years,” she says, “before there are more waterbenders in the south. I’ll go back to teach them when they’re ready. And probably before that, to visit my family and help my tribe rebuild. But I don’t see myself staying there all the time. I want…”
She hesitates, weighing thoughts and words and options she’s never taken the time to consider before. Should she study at Ba Sing Se University? Buy a ship and travel the world as a merchant? Become an ambassador and represent her people? Provide healing to those injured in the war?
“I don’t know,” she says. “But I’ve got friends from all over the world, and after everything I’ve seen and done, I don’t think I’d be satisfied living out my life in one small village. Does that sound horribly selfish?”
“I don’t know.” Zuko smiles at her, looking almost shy. “But I think you should do it. Whatever you decide that you want, you deserve it. And if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”
“Yeah.” She smiles faintly, resting her head against his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
Ember Island isn’t a bad place for waterbending practice. Katara stands on the beach with Aang, both of them knee-deep in the ocean, and feels its power flow through her.
The water blasts towards him, and he catches it, shifting it so that it passes around him, then flinging it back at her.
He’s gotten better. Much better.
Katara just hopes it will be enough.
Blasts of fire shoot back and forth across the sand. Katara watches from a safe distance, perched on a nearby boulder. At one time, seeing Zuko throw fire at Aang would’ve terrified her. Now it’s just a daily occurrence, and Aang can send it right back, no different than water or earth.
She’s never forgotten how it felt to be burned. But his fire now isn’t like that. It’s perfectly focused, under control, going exactly where he wants it and nowhere else.
He has a good teacher. She can admit that now. Zuko’s lessons aren’t anything like hers; he’s stricter and harsher, with a no-nonsense attitude instead of Katara’s tendency toward gentle corrections and positive reinforcement. But fire is a different sort of element than water, and perhaps a firmer hand is needed.
In any case, he’s teaching Aang control, not just destruction. Whatever happened that day when they went off together to explore the Sun Warrior ruins, it had an impact. Since then, he’s never once spoken of anger and rage as the fuel for firebending. Only of the breath and the sun and the body’s internal heat.
Katara’s previous reference point for “good firebender” was Jeong Jeong, and as far as he was concerned, his powers were nothing but a burden. A curse. An unwanted talent for destruction and violence. And yet, as she watches her friends practice, it doesn’t seem like that sort of burden to them. The fire lights them up and brings them to life in a way that catches her off-guard.
It’s beautiful.
He’s beautiful, with the flames reflecting off his golden eyes, his movements lithe and elegant, sparks flying as he moves through the steps of the dragon dance.
Her breath catches in her throat. Is she really staring at Zuko with a flush rising in her cheeks, warming her face?
No, surely not. It’s just warm here because of all the firebending.
Katara could’ve done without the whole “going to see a play about ourselves” business, actually. In hindsight, it seems obvious what a bad idea it was. And not just because of the ridiculously awful portrayals. How could she not have realized that a play performed in the Fire Nation under Ozai’s rule would end the way that it did?
The sense of gloom that settled over the group as they made their way back to their temporary home has yet to dissipate, and there’s nothing the beauty of these pristine beaches can do to lift anyone’s spirits.
In a few weeks, Aang could be dead. Zuko could be dead. Any and all of them could be dead, whether or not the Ember Island Players deemed them important enough to kill on-stage.
In the face of that cold, hard truth, Katara feels selfish for worrying about what else happened that day. And yet, it replays in her mind again and again: the moment she said she was confused and felt Aang’s lips crashing into hers.
There’s a distance between them now that she’s never felt before. It’s not as if she was unaware of his feelings, or had never considered the possibility. But she’d always thought, if anything was to happen, it would be when both of them decided they were ready. And if she will ever be, she’s definitely not right now.
She busies herself with cooking and mending and waterbending practice, trying to push the memory away, trying to bottle it up and forget about it. But she must not be having too much success, because a few days later, Suki finds her alone on the beach and walks up quietly beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Suki asks.
Katara shrugs. “Just worried, I guess.”
Suki shakes her head.
“No,” she says, “I don’t think that’s it. We’re all worried. But there’s something more, isn’t there?”
Katara feels her face grow warm. She looks away, ducking her head. “It’s silly.”
A moment of silence, and then Suki’s fingers gently touch her chin, raising it until they’re eye-to-eye, standing ankle-deep in the tide as it splashes against their legs.
“A warrior has to have a clear head,” says Suki. “That means working through your emotions, not bottling them up. Even if you think they’re silly.”
And maybe it’s because of that look in her eyes, or maybe because she knows Suki is no stranger to romance. But it feels right to talk to Suki about this.
“Aang kissed me.”
“Oh.” Suki’s eyes widen. “Is that… I’m guessing, from the look on your face, you don’t feel the same way about him.”
Katara shrugs. “There’s always been something between us, I guess. I know he’s always liked me, and there have been times when…”
She thinks of dancing with him the night they threw that party for the Fire Nation schoolkids. That had been nice, actually. And she does care for him, even if not exactly the way he cares for her. It would be so easy to simply follow along and let it happen.
“But I didn’t want him to kiss me that night. I thought I was clear about that. I told him I wasn’t ready, and I wasn’t sure, and he -”
Suki curses under her breath. Katara’s eyes go wide as the other girl pulls her into a tight embrace.
“I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
Is it? Katara bites back the impulse to protest, to insist that it was nothing. The stormy coil of emotions twisting around inside of her say otherwise, and Suki was right: if she doesn’t deal with this now, it will still be hanging over their heads when the comet arrives. She can’t afford to be distracted then.
“You should talk to him,” Suki says. “And when you do, you shouldn’t let him think it’s okay. It’s not. If he likes you, he should respect you enough to take no for an answer.”
Maybe Suki is right. But this doesn’t feel like the right time. Not with the comet just around the corner. If she brings it up and distracts Aang…
No. Better to wait.
The days pass by both too quickly and too slowly for Katara’s liking. On the one hand, the comet is steadily approaching. This is what they’ve been working towards all this time, and yet, now that the time has come, it’s far too soon.
Aang isn’t ready. None of them are.
On the other hand, with the deadline approaching, every moment seems to stretch out into eternity. Especially with the awkwardness still lingering between her and Aang.
“I’m not sure this is going to work,” she tells Sokka. “If we had more time…”
“Maybe we do,” he says.
Katara tilts her head, looking at him with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we were trying to keep the Fire Lord from using the comet to win the war, right?” asks Sokka. “But he’s done that already. How much worse can things get? So what if we just wait until after?”
It makes sense, Katara thinks. Aang would have more time to master all four elements, and when he faces the Fire Lord, he’d have a better chance of succeeding. She thinks back to that moment when the actor playing Aang fell to the ground, cut down by Ozai’s flames.
“Okay. We should talk to the others. Especially Aang. But I think that might be a good idea.”
It feels like a weight off her shoulders just thinking about it.
They all agree, and Katara can breathe again. She likes the new plan. Keep hiding. Keep training. Face the Fire Lord when Aang is truly ready.
They have a nice little hideout here in the royal family’s abandoned beach house. They’re as safe here as they could possibly be behind enemy lines with the war still unfinished. This is nice. Better, certainly, than rushing into some kind of final battle in less than a week’s time.
And it doesn’t even have to be her decision, her voice alone telling Aang he’s not ready. They all agreed this was best.
Almost all. Somehow, nobody thought to ask Zuko.
Katara doesn’t want to talk to Aang.
No, that’s not true. She’s happy to talk to him about waterbending, or about her plans for dinner, or any number of other things.
She doesn’t want to talk to him about the kiss. But if they’re not going to fight the Fire Lord before the comet, then surely there’s plenty of time to work through it before they go into battle again. With Suki’s words repeating in her mind, she finds him in the backyard of the beach house and takes a deep breath, steadying herself.
“Aang, we need to talk.”
He turns to look at her with big, questioning eyes. “We do? What about?”
As if he has no idea. And maybe he doesn’t, but that thought just makes it worse, really.
“About what happened when we went to see the play.”
He mutters something about it being a really bad play, which is entirely beside the point. She sighs, watching him with raised eyebrows. When he meets her eyes, his cheeks flush.
“Yeah,” he says. “I know it was stupid.”
“What was?”
“I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you for what the actress said. And I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“No, you really shouldn’t have.”
He keeps looking at her with something expectant in his eyes, and she’s not quite sure what he wants from her. Forgiveness? Reassurance? Her impulse is to give it and let the awkwardness of the moment fade away. But she takes a deep breath and hears Suki’s voice in her mind.
“It can’t happen again.”
He nods, expression unchanging.
“I care for you, Aang. As a friend. That’s all I can give you right now.”
“Because this isn’t a good time?” he asks, his expression turning wary. “But you saw how the play ended. What if that’s how it really goes? What if this is the only time we have?”
And he’s still not understanding, is he?
“Aang, when I said that, I meant that I’m not even sure what I want yet. What I’ll do when it’s over, or whether that involves us. You need to understand that it might not.”
She’s not saying they need to wait. She’s saying he needs to make peace with the idea that she might never want him the way he so clearly wants her. And she can see it in his eyes, the moment he understands that.
“You really don’t like me? I mean, like that?”
Breathe in. Breathe out. Fight the impulse to say whatever will soothe that heartbroken sound in his voice.
“Was the play right? About you and Zuko?”
“What?” Katara stares at him, baffled by the question. “How is that - Aang, it was actors. On a stage.”
“But you’re not saying no, are you? What happened, then? In the catacombs?”
“Nothing like what they showed in the play,” snaps Katara. “And this isn’t about Zuko. It’s about me needing time to decide what I want. And I need you to respect that, and let me choose for myself. So for right now, the answer is no, Aang. If that ever changes, I’ll let you know.”
He looks about as heartbroken as she’s ever seen him, and the sight of his crestfallen expression almost makes her crumble.
Almost.
Instead, she turns around and heads back inside.
“Spar with me?”
Zuko’s words come with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Katara raises an eyebrow.
“Aren’t you a little tired of getting your butt kicked by me?” she asks with a sweet smile.
“Well…” he shrugs, his face flushing a little bit. “It’s been a while, you know, since we fought each other one-on-one. And you’ve gotten really good. And my bending is stronger, too, since my trip with Aang.”
“So you want a rematch.” Katara grins, leaning back against the wall and uncorking her waterskin, playing with the water that emerges. It swirls through the air, doing lazy loops as she flexes her fingers. “Alright. You’re on.”
The whole team gathers on the steps of the beach house to watch. Toph is grinning. Sokka is whispering something to Suki, who giggles. Aang… he has a conflicted look on his face, like he’d rather they didn’t. Maybe like he’s still not sure the Ember Island Players were wrong about her and Zuko. But he doesn’t say anything, and when their eyes meet, he smiles at Katara.
“Ready?” asks Zuko.
“Oh, yes,” Katara replies.
Her water surges toward him, but he’s already rolling out of the way.
He throws flames across the open space between them, and she douses them with a wave of water pulled from the sea.
Ice freezes around his legs, and he melts it.
Sparks fly, and smoke fills the air.
It’s almost a dance, she finds herself thinking. A dance between two people who have to get the steps right if they’re going to avoid hurting each other. And yet, she finds that she absolutely trusts him to do that. He’ll defeat her if he can, but he’d never let his flames burn her skin or his smoke choke the breath from her lungs, any more than she would fill his with water.
Their audience cheers and boos and shrieks with excitement, but it’s all far-off and distant now. Nothing is real except for fire and water clashing in the steamy Ember Island afternoon.
As the fight goes on, her muscles grow sore and her bending begins to waver. Not as quickly as it used to. But there’s only so long anyone can go on fighting.
But the same is true for him, she realizes. She can hear his labored breathing and see the beads of sweat on his forehead.
Gathering all her strength, she summons a wave from behind her. It crashes forward, dousing them both. The water seeps into her clothes and hair and skin, and she doesn’t think she’s ever felt more alive than in that moment. But Zuko…
It’s knocked him off his feet, and he’s a pathetic sight, all wet and tired, struggling to get back up.
“Had enough?” she asks.
“No. Never.”
“Alright, then.”
With one clean motion, she sends a water whip shooting towards him, grabbing him around the waist and yanking him up off the sand. A moment later, he lands in the ocean, far enough out that he’s treading water to stay afloat. The water catches him, holding him up but not letting him go. She won’t let him get hurt. But she will win this fight, damn it.
“Alright, alright,” he says. “I’ll yield.”
She grins and pulls him back toward shore, and he staggers out onto the beach, looking at her with such wonder in his eyes that it brings a strange warmth to her face.
“You’re incredible,” he tells her.
“So are you.”
“Can I ask you something?” Zuko asks her a few nights later, on the beach beneath a waning moon.
She nods. “Sure. Go ahead.”
He hesitates awkwardly, as if he hasn’t quite formed his question yet.
“A while back, when we were on the Southern Raiders’ ship,” he says at last, “you did something I’ve never seen anyone do before. It was like…”
Ah. So that’s what this is about.
“Like he couldn’t control his own body anymore?” she asks.
Zuko nods.
“It’s called bloodbending,” says Katara bitterly. “You’d be surprised how much water there is in the human body.”
She watches his eyes go wide. “Have you always been able to do that?”
“Only for a month or so. A little more than that now, I guess.”
“Huh. Okay. I guess I changed sides at the right time, then.”
He says it casually, but there’s a wariness in his voice that makes her stomach twist with guilt. She meets his gaze and can’t stand the way he’s looking at her, as if she’s something he didn’t know he ought to be frightened of.
“Don’t worry,” she says softly. “I’d never use it on you. Or on most people, really. But when I thought that man was my mother’s killer…”
He nods in silent understanding, the tension easing out of his body.
“If you only learned a month ago, I’m guessing it’s not something most waterbenders know,” he says.
“No.” Katara shakes her head. “It only works on the full moon. And as far as I know, the only other person who knows how is in prison. Though I’m not sure how well they’ll be able to keep her there, actually. She used bloodbending to escape before.”
He doesn’t ask, but she sees the spark of curiosity in his eyes. And there’s no one else she can talk about this with. The rest of their group already knows, except for Suki, and though Katara considers her a good friend, she can’t imagine confiding in her about this. But it’s different with Zuko, somehow. They’ve both seen each other at their lowest, and perhaps that’s why the story that she wouldn’t normally tell comes spilling out now.
“I wanted to trust her. I’d never met another waterbender from my tribe before. And she taught me so much. But then we found out she’d been kidnapping people. Civilians.”
“Fire Nation civilians?”
Katara nods. “She wanted to do to them what the Fire Nation did to our benders. But they weren’t the ones responsible. They were just ordinary people, and - and she stayed there, in the Fire Nation, just to do that. Just to make them suffer.”
She could’ve gone home. She could’ve been safe and loved among her own people again. She could’ve taught Katara all about what it meant to be a waterbender. It still hurts to be reminded that she’d chosen such cruelty instead.
But there’s something more, too.
“I never knew waterbending could be used like that. And I never wanted to learn it.”
“You’re nothing like her.”
How can he get to the heart of the matter so easily? Katara turns to look at him with a silent question in her eyes, and he smiles back.
“You didn’t kill Yon Rah - but even if you had, it would’ve been what he deserved. You let the other man go once you figured out he wasn’t the one we were looking for. And you could’ve been a lot worse to me, when you were still angry. You could’ve found an excuse to kill me. Or accepted when I offered myself as a prisoner, and then…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to. She can see the possibilities written all over his face, and she wonders for the first time how much courage it must have taken for him to fall to his knees in surrender.
She reaches out to take his hand.
“If we had,” she says, “I wouldn’t have hurt you. Not in the sort of way I think you’re imagining. None of us would have.”
“I know,” he says. “Like I said, you’re nothing like her.”
It surprises Katara when Aang seeks her out, a doleful look on his face.
“Can I talk to you? In private?”
She nods, beckons to him, and they walk together along the beach. The sand is soft and wet beneath her feet.
“I’m sorry.”
His words catch her off guard. She glances in his direction with big eyes, brows raised in surprise.
“Go on.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you that day at the theater. And I should’ve understood. When you said you were confused and needed time, I thought you were saying you weren’t ready. But you meant you might never be ready. I should have realized that.”
She nods, and he droops with disappointment, a look of resignation on his face.
“Am I just not your type?” he asks quietly. “I know Jet and Haru were both older. And taller. And not bald, I guess. But I wouldn’t have thought you’d care all that much about stuff like that.”
Katara hesitates. It’s true, on some level: he’s not her type. He’s not at all what she imagined as a little girl, dreaming about what her future husband would be like, and he’s not the sort of guy she’d find herself swooning over at first sight. If there’s anything romantic about her feelings, it’s certainly not because he swept her off her feet right away.
But that’s not really the point, is it?
“I liked Jet as soon as I met him,” she says. “Until I got to know him. And then he didn’t turn out to be the kind of person I could love.”
“So…”
“So just having feelings for someone right away isn’t everything. I don’t think I’d mind falling for someone unexpected, who I didn’t think of that way at first.”
She considers for a moment leaving it at that. But it would be false hope, if she’s being honest. He’ll keep clinging to what she’s just said unless she finishes the thought.
“But if all I feel is friendship, then that’s all it is. I can’t make myself want more than I do.”
She half expects him to lose his temper again. But he just nods in resignation.
“I thought it might be like that.”
“Aang, I - ”
He speaks again, cutting her off. “I think I understand now what the guru meant about attachment.”
“What?” The statement seems to come out of nowhere, and Katara stares at him in confusion.
“When I went to see Guru Pathik,” Aang explains, “he said I needed to let go of attachments to unblock my last chakra. And what I couldn’t let go of was my attachment to you. I didn’t understand at the time, because love was a good thing for one of the other chakras. And other Avatars have gotten married. I know Roku did, and I’m sure he loved his wife and kids. So it isn’t just love that blocks the chakra, it’s…”
He sighs, his whole body slumping in resignation. Katara can’t resist reaching out to place a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“It’s holding on too hard, I think,” he says. “I want us to be together, but I have to let it be your choice. And I have to be okay with whatever you decide. That’s what giving up my attachment means. I don’t have to stop loving you, I just have to let go.”
He doesn’t look happy, but there’s something of acceptance in his eyes. He looks up at Katara almost shyly, as if waiting for her approval on everything he’s just said. But however he’s worked it out, she’s just glad that he has.
“I’ll always be there for you, Aang,” she says. “You’re my friend. The first friend I ever had who wasn’t my brother. And I care about you a lot.”
He nods and wraps his arms around her, clinging to her the way she used to cling to her mother, when her mother was still there to cling to. She returns the embrace, and it feels right in a way that kissing him never did.
The comet will be here soon, and although they’ve decided to wait until Aang is truly ready, Katara can’t help the dread that creeps up on her as the days pass by, bringing it closer and closer.
Surely nothing the Fire Nation does could be too horrible, right? They’ve already won the war.
Still, she paces on the beach, her mood roiling up the waves. They crash against the rocks and the sand. Katara barely notices.
“Are you okay?” asks a familiar voice.
“Zuko?” She turns to face him, stopping in her tracks. There he is, hopping down from a boulder, landing on his feet in the sand before her. The waves crash back down, spraying them with salt water.
“You seem tense.”
She nods. “I guess I am.”
“Worried about the comet?” he guesses.
“Yeah.”
“I know. Me, too. But it’ll be over soon.”
She doesn’t even think. She just steps forward and puts her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. He returns the embrace, careful and gentle, as if she is something precious.
“We’ll get through it together,” he assures her. “I promise.”
She wants to believe it. And she’s never had trouble believing in the past. So why is she still so frightened?
“I always believed in the Avatar,” she says to Zuko the next day, as they prepare dinner together.
That’s gotten to be a routine for them. She gathers the ingredients. He lights the fire. And, together, they make the food. She’s never had anyone who was interested in helping with that particular chore before, much less could actually cook. It’s nice, she decides.
“I know,” he replies, carefully stirring the pot. “I remember how you were, the day I came to your village. Not many people would go after a Fire Nation ship, even to rescue a friend.”
She shakes her head.
“No, I mean - yes, I believed in him then. But even before that. When he was just the Avatar to me and not Aang yet. Before I’d ever met him, when everyone thought he was just an old legend. I was always so sure he was real.”
“So was I.” Zuko gives her an awkward smile, and his face flushes. “I mean. Not the way you were. I thought he’d be my enemy. But everyone said… well, you know. They always thought I’d fail. Because they didn’t think he even existed. And I don’t think I ever doubted he was real.”
It’s strange to think that they had something like that in common. At one point, maybe the comparison would’ve made her angry. But now it just brings a smile to her lips.
“Well, you were right,” she says.
“Right, and yet also wrong,” he says, something solemn taking over in his eyes. “I never should’ve tried to capture him. I should’ve seen that what we were doing was wrong, and he was the only one who could make it right.”
“You should have.” There’s no bitterness in her words, just acknowledgment that what he’s said is true. “But you’re here now. And I’m glad.”
She’s surprised by just how glad she is to have known him, not just as the enemy trying to capture them or the boy who betrayed her in Ba Sing Se, but as the person he’s become in the past few weeks.
Despite the comet’s rapid approach, Katara reminds herself to breathe. They have a plan. It’s not really a deadline anymore. And everything will be okay.
Which is how she finds herself on the steps of the beach house, watching Aang’s firebending training. He roars, and flames shoot out of his mouth. She offers up a tray full of watermelon juice and leaps towards the water the moment Sokka suggests a beach party, freezing an icy surfboard for herself and riding the waves with a carefree sort of ease.
As a general rule, Katara tends to feel the weight of the world on her shoulders just as much as Zuko and quite a bit more than Aang, who has always surprised her with his tendency to get distracted by penguin sledding and giant koi fish. Her destiny might not be quite as heavy or preordained as theirs, but it’s always fallen to her to take care of those she loves, and that’s not an instinct she can easily turn off.
But right now, they’re here. They have food and shelter, and they’re safer than they’ve been in a long time, even in the shadow of the coming comet. There’s very little she can do now. It’s not up to her anymore, is it?
So she laughs at the sea beneath her and the wind in her hair. She laughs and she smiles, until angry fire rains down and breaks the moment of bliss.
Zuko.
Attacking Aang.
This is what she feared from the beginning, and didn’t she once swear she’d snuff out his destiny once and for all if he gave her any reason to believe he might hurt her friend?
But as panic rises in her chest, she doesn’t even think of those words she spoke on his first night with them. She wants to grab him by the arm and demand to know what he’s thinking, not to bloodbend him to his knees or throw him into the sea. It doesn’t even occur to her to doubt his intentions now. There must be some explanation.
And there is. A horrible one. Apparently, things can in fact get much, much worse.
The Sozin’s Comet deadline is back with only a few days to spare.
Katara feels the weight of the world settle back on their shoulders. All of them, as a group, because she knows now that they have to face this together. It’s too much for one person on his own. Even the Avatar.
It’s strange. She always imagined, as a child, that when the Avatar returned, he would singlehandedly put everything right. She’d believed with all her heart that all they had to do was wait for him.
But now she knows better. She still believes in Aang, but she knows, too, that he’s a person, and that like any person, he sometimes needs help. And who wouldn’t need help with something like this?
Katara has always believed in the Avatar with her whole heart, and she’s sure she always will. But as they make their final preparations for the battle that she now knows they have to face, it’s Zuko who she finds herself drawn to. If these are their final days, it’s him whose company she craves the most. And when she looks out over the precipice of their uncertain future, he’s the one who she imagines at her side.
“When it’s over, have you given any more thought to where you’ll go?” he asks her. “What you’ll do?”
“I’ve got a few ideas,” she says with a smile.
Now, when she thinks of captaining a merchant ship, she imagines it stopping in the Fire Nation, lingering there for many long days or weeks. When she thinks of Ba Sing Se University, she envisions a world where Iroh is Fire Lord and Zuko has been sent abroad as some sort of ambassador, based in the Earth Kingdom capital. And when her thoughts turn to rebuilding the South Pole, she pictures him there by her side, helping, accepted with open arms by her people.
But there’s another future, too, that surfaces in her mind as she considers the possibilities. A future where she remains in the Fire Nation with him, where these warm seas and pristine beaches become as much home as the frozen waters of the south.
She hasn’t decided yet. A lot depends, she thinks, on what happens in the days and weeks to come.
“But one thing I’m sure of,” she says, her smile widening. “I want us to stay together. To still be part of each other’s lives, one way or another.”
He smiles back at her, and she knows this is right with a certainty that she’s never felt before.