“You’re late,” you told him, slapping a dough ball onto the floured board. “I was starting to think you’d actually learned to sleep like a normal person.”
Zuko’s footsteps were almost silent, but you had spent seven years learning to read the spaces between sounds. He stopped at your prep station, just inside your peripheral vision, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of your neck.
“I had a thing,” he said.
“A thing.”
“A diplomatic thing. With Ambassador Kuei. It went long.”
You snorted. “Let me guess. He wanted to renegotiate the trade agreement for the seventeenth time, and you wanted to set his mustache on fire.”
A pause. Then, very quietly: “…his mustache is very flammable-looking.”
You finally looked up. Zuko smiled at you. That should’ve told you he was up to no good.
Because he was holding a radish.
Not just a radish. Your radish. The one you’d been saving for the garnish on tomorrow’s soup, because these particular radishes came from a specific farm in the northwestern province, and they had exactly three of them left, and they tasted good without being boiled and—
“Put it down,” you said icily.
Zuko took a bite. Loudly. Crunchily. Maintaining eye contact the entire time. What an idiot.
“You glutton,” you hissed, grabbing for it. He danced back a step—lithe and quick, because of course he was; years of being banished and he still moved like a flame—and took another bite, chewing with deliberate slowness.
“It’s good,” he said, around a mouthful of radish. “Crisp. Tell the royal kitchen to buy more of these.”
“It was for the soup.”
“What soup?”
“Oh, you know. The soup I’m making tomorrow for the council luncheon, which you insisted had to be ‘impressive’ and ‘diplomatically neutral’ and ‘not the same thing we served last time,’ and now I have to figure out what to do with two radishes instead of three, so I hope you’re happy.”
Zuko thought about what you’ve said. Then he held out the remaining half of the radish. “Do you want it back?”
“Of course not,” you replied, scoffing. “That’s disgusting. I want you to leave.”
“You don’t mean that.”
He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, that you felt stunned by the sheer audacity that he was absolutely right. You turned back to your dough, attacking the next ball with more force than strictly necessary. “I absolutely mean it. Go away. Be the Firelord somewhere else. I have work to do.”
You heard him move closer. He stopped right behind you, close enough that you could smell the faint smoke-and-ember scent that always clung to him, like a hearthfire banked for the night.
“You’re doing the rolls wrong,” he murmured.
You had to suck in a deep breath to keep yourself from rolling your eyes to the back of your head.
“I am not.”
“You are. You’re making them too small. The one on the end is going to burn.”
You looked down at your perfectly shaped, uniformly sized rolls. They were fine. They were perfect. You had been making these exact rolls for seven years, and he had never once—not once—thanked you for making them, and now he wanted to criticize?
You picked up no more than a palm of flour and threw it at him.
Zuko could’ve dodged. He knew what was coming. He’d dodged worse things than flying flour—fire, knives, and the occasional well-aimed shoe from his friends. But he didn’t dodge. He stood there and let the flour hit him square in the chest, a puff of white dust blooming across the dark silk of his formal robe.
He looked down at himself. Then back at you.
“That,” he started, “was a three-hundred-year-old ceremonial robe. And perfectly good flour went to waste.”
“Good,” you huffed. “Maybe it’ll teach you not to critique my baking.”
He brushed at the flour, succeeding only in smearing it around.
“You’re so childish.”
“Childish? I’m not the one who sneaks into the kitchen at midnight to steal vegetables and complain about portion sizes.”
“I wasn’t complaining. I was merely stating my opinion.”
“Opinion that I did not ask for, Firelord.”
Zuko frowned at the title. You knew just how to get him to sulk and pout.
“I was being helpful.”
You made a sound of pure, undiluted exasperation. “You don’t know the first thing about cooking besides the basics, Zuko.”
“I also know how to make tea.”
“That doesn’t count.”
Zuko’s mouth pressed into a thin line—the one that meant he was trying not to smile and failing miserably. He looked ridiculous, standing there in his flour-dusted ceremonial robes with a half-eaten radish in one hand, hair loose that pooled behind his back, his cheeks flushed with something that might have been embarrassment or might have been the warmth of the kitchen.
You ignored the incessant feeling that clawed at your chest. Maybe it was the exhaustion getting to you.
“Sit down,” you sighed. “If you’re going to be in my way, at least be in my way sitting down.”
Zuko sat. He always sat, eventually. That was the thing about these midnight visits—he, for all the power he had as Firelord, was utterly compliant when it came to you.
You finished shaping the rolls in silence, your hands moving automatically, your mind somewhere else entirely. You could feel him watching you with something that you knew all too well. Something that had been there for so long you’d stopped questioning it.
“You look tired,” he said, finally.
“I look like I’ve been cooking for fourteen hours,” you replied. “Which I have.”
“You should sleep more.”
“I could, but the prep wouldn’t finish all of this, now would it?”
“I hired a lot of people in the royal kitchen for you not to do all of this.”
“Well, I like doing all of this my way,” you hummed. “It helps when I’m alone. Have you eaten?”
He didn’t answer. That was answer enough.
You sighed, reaching for a covered dish by the pantry. You set the dish in front of him with a spoon.
“It’s still warm.”
Zuko looked at the noodles. “You saved these for me?”
“I saved them for the compost,” you noted flatly. “You just happened to be here.”
He ate them. All of them.
“(Name),” he said once he finished.
“Don’t,” you said, because you knew that tone. You’d heard it a hundred times, in a hundred different ways, and you weren’t ready for whatever was coming next.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say something that’s going to make this weird.”
Zuko huffed. “I’m not going to make it weird.”
“You’re always going to make it weird. You have a gift.”
He frowned—not his angry frown, but the one that crinkled the unscarred side of his face and made him look softer. “I was just going to say thank you.”
“For the noodles?”
Oh. That was new.
“For… everything. For being here. For putting up with me.” He gestured vaguely at the kitchen, at the flour on his robes, at the half-eaten radish now on a clean tray.
“For all of this.”
You felt your throat tighten. You turned back to the dough, even though the rolls were already finished and covered and ready to just set. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job.”
“It’s not your job to throw flour at me.”
“That part’s a bonus,” you told him smugly. “Perks of being employed by the Firelord, I guess.”
There was something in the air; you were sure of it. It could be the dust motes or the warmth of the fire burning until it reaches its last embers.
Something that you were scared to address because you didn’t want to ruin what you already had.
“You’ve got flour on your face,” Zuko said.
“So do you.”
“No, I mean—” He stood up, crossed the few steps between you, and before you could react, his hand was cupping your jaw, his thumb brushing gently across your cheekbone, wiping away the streak of flour you’d forgotten about.
His hand was warm. They were always warm, firebenders—Zuko especially, like a banked coal that never quite went out. But this warmth was different. This warmth was certain. His thumb lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and his eyes—those impossible, burning gold eyes—were fixed on yours, and you swore you forgot how to breathe.
“There,” he murmured. “Got it.”
You should have stepped back. You should’ve deflected and went back to familiar territory. That was the dance you and him had been doing for seven years—push and pull, bicker and banter, never quite crossing the line into whatever lay beyond.
But you didn’t step back. And he didn’t let go.
“Zuko,” you said, and his name came out wrong—too breathless—like the longing you tried so hard to bury had finally resurfaced.
“(Name),” he replied, and there was something in his voice you’d never heard before. Something that sounded like fear, like hope, like the moment before a flame catches.
It’s something. And that something was both terrifying and something that you now wanted to name. To acknowledge and finally be honest.
“You should go,” you whispered, but you didn’t mean it, and he knew it.
“I know,” he said, and didn’t move.
His hand was still on your face. His thumb was still tracing slow, absent patterns on your cheekbone. You could feel the calluses on his fingers—sword calluses, firebending calluses, the hard-won scars of a boy who’d had to fight for everything he’d ever gotten.
“If you’re going to kiss me,” you started, because you had gotten tired of waiting and because you’d never been good at keeping your mouth shut, “you should probably do it before I change my mind.”
Zuko’s breath caught. You thought you’d misread everything—thought you’d finally pushed too far, broken the fragile thing between you with your bluntness and your sharp tongue and your inability to just let things be.
Then he kissed you. Soft and chaste. You swore that feeling in your chest had never been happier.
You broke apart eventually, foreheads resting together, breathing the same warm kitchen air. Zuko’s hands had moved to your waist, his fingers curled into the fabric of your apron like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
“That was—” he started.
“Seven years overdue,” you finished, smiling.
He laughed. “I was going to say ‘nice.’”
“It was nice,” you agreed. “But you can do better.”
His eyes widened, settling upon the realization. “Is that a challenge?”
“It’s an observation.”
“You and your observations.”
“You and your—mmph!”
He kissed you again, rude to not have let you finish, and this time it wasn’t shy at all. The dough lay forgotten for a while, but that’s okay; you’ll have the Firelord’s help to help you remake another batch.
It feels like its been years since I've wrote for ATLA.
Includes: Katara, Toph, Azula
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Katara
Mom mode, she freaks out and cuddles you, wrapping you in the warmest blankets and trying to make you home-made soup like her mother used to make.
Which tastes bad, so bad you throw up a little, but it's Katara. You finish your bowl with a smile and pretend it's the best soup you've ever had, she is proud.
"I tried my best, it was a bit too fishy, but I think I did good-"
Sokka cut her off with his gagging and whining, "This is terrible Katara!"
She isn't worried about getting sick, so she doesn't mind wrapping up in the blankets with you.
Toph
"Can't you fix them?" Toph asks Katara, pointing at your shivering body. "You got that magic water healing ability, right?"
Same attitude, but much more gentle. Toph doesn't hit your shoulder or anything else like she usually does, instead opting to let you rest your head in her lap.
Calls you names, all harmless of course, but you don't mind either way, it's how Toph shows affection.
Doesn't go out of their way too much, will get you extra blankets and tuck you in, though.
Azula
Freaks out, inwardly. Outside, she seems calm, collected, and carefree. She gathers the best doctor and has the workers serve you- as if they don't already.
Much snappier, fires a servant if even one thing is wrong- "She told you no onion and what do you do," she yells, throwing the bowl of soup to the floor. "You add onion!"
You try to calm her, but she insists you deserve the best of the best.
The highest quality blankets are pillows awaiting you in yours and Azula's shared bed- she still sleeps with you, but keeps to her own side in an attempt to not get sick.
it’s been six years since the world’s last airbender, and my very best friend aang lost his life, and i still think about it every day.
was there more I could have done?
if i had been stronger, would he still be alive?
am i the reason that the world lost humanities’ last hope?
an over-whelming sense of shame and guilt has engulfed me ever since aang was killed by firelord ozai in the invasion of the fire nation. now the entire world has spun into disarray, with the fire nation taking control of every nation.
if only i could find the new avatar. then we may have hope at restoring the balance of this world.
ｙ－ｎ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you pout, crossing your arms and turning away from the little boy who was yelling in your face and chucking a tantrum.
“i just saw you move that rock-” he paused, evidently struggling to find the courage to allow the words to leave his mouth, “-WITH YOUR MIND!” he shouts, gaining the attention of all the other children nearby.
this little boy had been pestering you for weeks now, seemingly convinced that you are the one and only avatar, and it would appear that he will stop at no lengths to prove to everyone in your tribe that his ridiculous theory is correct.
“ok Tasi, as much as I’d like to stay and chat with you about how I am clearly an earthbender-” you pause to sarcastically flip your pony-tail over your shoulders, your traditional water tribe inuit hairstyle on full display, “-i must excuse myself to hurry along to my healing lessons now. bye bye Tasi, stay out of trouble now.” you mockingly wave goodbye to the annoying little kid, as he pokes out his tongue a you.
once you are far enough away, you let out a long sigh, worry starting to creep in.
“what if he really does find out the truth? i would never be able to live off the shame...”
and so you continue on, marching through the heavy snow of your icy home, off to attend your healing lessons, watched mercilessly by fire nation soldiers as they rule over your lonely tribe.
suddenly, you catch sight of someone bleeding out on the snow...
ｓｏｋｋａ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ:
Art by: zarory
it was yet again, another boring day, with another boring job. today was patrol duty of the south-eastern section of the southern water tribe. i internally groan as i get dressed into my official uniform and head out the door.
ever since aang died, katara has been pestering me about how “ive changed” and saying she wants the “fun loveable sokka back”. i don’t know what she’s talking about. i haven’t “changed”, i’ve just grown up, theres a difference. i mean, i AM nearly 21 now. i am supposed to change as I get older...right?
i shake it off, and continue to make my way down the snowy pathways, boomerang firmly strapped to my back. as i am patrolling, i notice a group of water-tribe kids being a bit too loud over to my left.
“the fire nation soldiers won’t be happy about this...” i mumble to myself, as i hurry over there before the fire nation soldiers catch sight of them. even though im technically supposed to be harsh on anyone falling out of line, i could never turn my back on my own tribe. i must protect these kids from the wrath of the fire nation, for as long as possible!
as i get closer, i notice a beautiful woman who looked around my age getting yelled at by a little boy.
“i just saw you move that rock...WITH YOUR MIND!”
my icy blue eyes widen upon hearing this.
what is this kid on about??
suddenly, i feel a strong hand crash down on my shoulder, then a severe pain.
“aughh” i fall to my knees, groaning out of pain. i look up to see an angry fire nation soldier, hand out threateningly, still visibly red from the immense heat he just placed on my skin.
my hand reflexively shot up to my shoulder, covering the burn wound from the freezing winds around me. this burn was going to take a while to heal...
“what do you think you’re doing cadet? stop slacking off and start patrolling like a real soldier.” he begins to make his leave, only to look over his shoulder to shoot me a cold glare with his burning crimson eyes. “...stay in line, water-tribe scum.” he spits, before marching off, leaving me on the ground to stain the snow with my blood.
i sat there in the snow, hyperventilating for a few minutes, trying to manage the pain. my hatred for the fire nation seems to burn brighter with each passing day. i am so sick of my people being discriminated against and shoved in the dirt by those...animals...and being forced to sit idly by in silence. i feel like my whole identity has been replaced with pure rage.
maybe katara was right,
maybe i have changed...
i was snapped out of my thoughts by the snowy footsteps of the beautiful woman i saw before about to pass me. as she was approaching me, she suddenly catches sight of my injury, and i watch as all the colour immediately drains from her face. She frantically rushes to my side, incoherently yelling out over the wind.
as i watch her figure get closer, i feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness.
why do i feel so dizzy all of a sudden?
“oh my god! what happened to you!? are you alright!?” she dives down beside me onto the snow, inspecting my wounds. through my haze, i can feel her soft touch trace over my muscular arm as she eagerly tries to get a better look at my wound. as her cold hands glide across my skin, my heart-rate quickens, and for some reason i feel...safe.
“please! tell me who did this to you. sokka! SOKKA!” my eyelids suddenly become extremely heavy after she said that, the temptation of unconsciousness finally overpowering me. right before my vision fades to black, i manage to breathe out the words...
“h-how...do you know my name~~”
ｙ－ｎ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ:
“h-how...do you know my name~~”
you sigh to yourself, shaking your head.
“he’s losing too much blood...this could be bad.” you mumble to yourself. you couldn’t tell whether you were shaking from the cold, or out of worry for this...stranger.
“wait...if he is a stranger, then how did i know his name!?” your eyes widen as this sudden realization hits you. you quickly push it to the back of your mind - your first priority was to get sokka inside and out of the snow. then you would be able to hopefully heal his wound with your water bending.
you try to lift his body but buckle under the weight. you groan in frustration, angry at yourself for not being able to carry him. You frantically look around, in hope of finding someone who looks like they could help you, but you were surrounded by nothing but snow.
you opt for dragging him, much to your dismay. you hoped that if you were quick enough, you could avoid the possibility of hypothermia.
you manage to drag him fairly quickly all the way to the healing temple, where you were scheduled to train today. you were much earlier than you thought you’d be though, as not a single soul had arrived yet, not even the instructor Katara was here yet.
you position ‘sokka’ on the healing table, and begin your work on him. as you were still in training as a healer, you were desperately trying to read the instruction scroll as well as bend the healing water around your patient’s wound.
in your frantic state, upon reading this type of wound required heated water to execute correctly, you were just about ready to scream. you understood that heating up water manually would take upwards of ten minutes; time you simply did not have if you wanted to save this mysterious boy named ‘sokka’.
you took a moment to look around you, ensuring that no one was remotely anywhere near the vicinity, before you executed your plan.
you were going to fire bend the water.
ｓｏｋｋａ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ:
as i came to, i hear the sound of water boiling, and the pretty water-tribe girl from before standing over me.
that was when i saw it...
...the smoke coming out of her hands.
this girl was...fire bending the water!
before i could react, her hand was immediately placed over my mouth, surprisingly already back to its normal temperature, her eyes dripping in desperation.
she leans down, her face inches from mine causing my cheeks to turn red. her hair draped down, landing onto my bare chest, as i feel her warm breath on my face.
“don’t you tell a soul. this is your first and final warning sokka.” she threatens, although the intention of her words are lost by her shaky voice. she’s clearly terrified. i wasnt threatened at all.
just as i was about to bring my hand up to her cheek to wipe her tears away, i hear the angry voice of my sister coming from the doorway.
ｋａｔａｒａ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ：
i enter the healing temple, ready to prepare for my healing lesson, when i see my brother being pinned down by some mysterious girl.
“GET AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!” i yell, drawing my combat water, ready to attack.
i watch as the girl wastes no time whipping her head around to inspect the origin of the voice. i am greeted by the horrified expression of one of my healing students...
“y-n l-n!? what are you doing here!?” i begin to lower my guard, but only slightly.
“miss katara! what a surprise! um, i was just...” her voice trails off as she tries desperately to hide something behind her back.
my eyes narrow. “what is behind your back, y-n.” i say darkly, taking slow advances towards her shaking figure before me.
“u-uh...katara...i-i...” she seemed to be frozen solid, immobilized by fear. i often seem to have that effect on people...
with one quick movement, i stand mere inches from her face, sliding my hand behind the arch of her back to grab the object of her protection. however, as soon as my fingertips make contact with such object, i feel a sharp pain on my skin.
“fuck!” i immediately back away, inspecting my finger.
i was...burnt...
“h-how...how are you holding that” i hiss, pointing to the cup that she now holds in full view.
“i um...”
ｙ－ｎ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ:
fuck fuck fuck
they know, they know, they know
it’s all over - i’m a national disgrace
the run-away avatar...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you slowly place the cup of boiling water down on a nearby table, defeat dripping from your every gesture. katara notices the all too familiar fiery glow of your palms and her expression becomes livid.
“you’re the...YOU’RE THE AVATAR!”
without warning, the far superior bender launches a series of ice attacks directed at your head. fear engulfs you as you hold your breath and close your eyes, waiting for impact...but it never came.
you slowly open your eyes to see sokka standing protectively in front of you, deflecting her attacks with his boomerang. upon seeing this, she immediately stops, not wanting to hit her brother.
“w-what are you doing sokka-”
“LEAVE HER ALONE KATARA!” Sokka interrupts, venom lacing his words. Katara’s prior worry for her brother is then visibly replaced with rage as sokka’s ridiculous order reaches her ears. the livid woman slowly approached her brother, bringing with her danger and one heck of a warning.
“step away from her, sokka! she is a traitor who left our people to die! she doesn’t deserve your protection!!” katara stared down her brother, making her superior combat ability known. sokka swallowed.
“you dont understand katara. y-n saved my life! a fire nation solider left me to bleed out on the snow, but y-n brought me here and healed me. if it wasn’t for her fire bending, id be a corpse in the snow right now!”
katara seemed shocked to hear this. “you...y-you nearly died?” she appeared to have all the breath taken out of her.
sokka only silently nodded, causing a single tear to run down katara’s cheek.
“ok well, in that case, i guess its worth hearing what she has to say.” katara said steadily, regaining her composure.
you sigh in relief, as sokka guides you over to a stool, where the three of you all sit in a circle. silence. a long eerie silence between the three of you causes the tension in the room to grow thick, making you swallow. no one really knew where to begin. the realization was finally sinking in that the avatar has returned, and the two water-tribe siblings could barely believe their eyes. katara was the first one to break the silence.
“so first tings first, wanna explain to us how you’re not a six year old?”
“w-what!?” you squeak.
sokka gasps. “omg yeah, you’re right katara! this makes no sense”
“uhh, am i missing something??” you frown, confused.
“well, it would seem ill have to spell it out for you, miss avatar.” katara sighs. “aang died 6 years ago. so following the rule of re-birth, you should have been an infant 6 years ago. may i ask how old you are now, y-n?”
“uhh, nearly 20.”
“...how peculiar.” katara eyes you closely, deep in thought.
“yeah! that’s so totally peck-iler” sokka chirps gleefully.
“peculiar.” you slyly correct his pronunciation, flashing him one of your signiture smirks.
“glad to see you’re back to your idiot self sokka? did something change to make you more...uh how do you put it...more sokka-ry” katara shifts her eyes from you to him, much to your relief. she couldn’t help but think that his cheery demeanor was a result of meeting you.
“what do you mean, im always like this.” sokka says confused, as he tried to balance his boomerang on his nose like a baby seal.
“stop that!” katara growls, splashing water on his face, leaving his hair drenched. you began to laugh at sokka, he looked so stupid right now with his hair down and that pouty expression.
“something funny y-n? don’t forget the trouble you’re in right-now
and with that you were brought back to reality with a bang.
“when did you first notice you could bend the other elements.” katara insisted, leaning forward in her seat, her aura causing you to flinch.
“well, i’ve always been a waterbender. but when i was 14 i had this big fight with my mum and i went outside for a jog to cool off. i ended up getting lost for the night, and found shelter in a cave overlooking the ocean. i was freezing, and then suddenly i felt my hands become increasingly hotter. i looked down and noticed they were on fire. quite the surprise, as you can imagine.” you feeblishly laughed, re-living old memories.
sokka was practically on the edge of his seat, eager to hear the rest of your story. you also took note of katara’s persona. she seemed just as intrigued as sokka, but perhaps was better at hiding it. you took this as your cue to continue.
“once i discovered i could fire bend, i tried out the other elements as well.
the eager siblings leaned forward in their stools, eager to know if you’ve mastered all the elements yet or not.
“...child’s play”
sokka sighed in relief, but katara wasn’t as convinced.
“prove it”
“what” you asked, slightly insulted by her skepticism.
“i said...” she stood up and began advancing towards you, making you shiver. she placed her long slender fingers beneath your chin and lifted it to face her at her standing position. she leaned in close to your face, lips almost touching, as she slyly smirked, making your whole face go red.
“...prove it.” she whispered in your ear, her breath running down your neck, giving you goosebumps.
Could you please write something based on this prompt Azula x reader ❛❛Be a little respectful, do you know who I am ? ❜❜
Lazy Day
Anonymous asked: Could you please write something based on this prompt Azula x reader ‘Why are you so surprised? Believe it or not I do actually tell the truth sometimes.’
You spared Azula a glance out of the corner of your eye, not even bothering to turn your head, instead lazing about in the garden. The sun beat down heavily on the two of you and you squirmed uncomfortably when your skin began burning.
“It’s hot.” You whined, leaning over to dip your fingers in the turtle-duck pond before sprinkling drops of water on yourself. The millisecond of cool relief did nothing to stop the heat though.
Azula scoffed beside you and you sighed, knowing that you shouldn’t have opened your mouth, “You’re getting a little lazy, don’t you think?”
You rolled your eyes, now sitting up on your elbows and looking at her, she was smirking at you comfortably from underneath the shade. She insisted on taking up the spot underneath the tree while you had to slave in the sun because she simply couldn’t be the one burning her beautiful skin.
Not only did Azula have the shade of the tree, she had a swarm of servants fanning her and one was even holding a cool coconut drink to her mouth. And she had the nerve to call you lazy?
“You’re one to talk, oh, is my scorching body reflecting light into your eyes? Would you like me to burn alive on the other side of the garden or god forbid destroy your morning of lazing around?” You scoffed, watching her smirk in amusement at you. A few of the servants held in some chuckles at your sarcasm and Azula glared at her.
Her attention was back on you in a matter of moments however, “Be a little respectful, do you know who I am?”
“Well right now you should consider yourself lucky that you’re still my girlfriend. Making your poor girlfriend roast like a piece of bacon in the sun?” You pouted.
“I told you that there’s a throne available for you.”
“For the last time, your lap is not a throne.” You snapped.
Finally, deciding enough was enough, you trudged over, plopping yourself down in her lap so furiously the wind almost got knocked out of her. Her arms immediately came to wrap around her waist, leaning her head onto your shoulders.
You lounged comfortably in her lap, regardless how against the idea you were initially, curling into her lap. The content sigh she let out was lost in your hair and her arms tightened around your waist just a little.
“I’m crazy about you.” She murmured into your shoulder and you turned to her, surprised.
She chuckled at your wide eyes, “Why are you so surprised? Believe it or not I do actually tell the truth sometimes.”
“I didn’t think you were lying.” You whispered, “Just surprised you’re being so open today.”
You leaned into her, trying to eliminate any space between the two of you. It was rare that she was so open with you, not bothering to keep up her usual snooty persona. It was even rarer that she held you like this in company but you were surprised she was letting the servants get a glance at her vulnerability,
“It’s a beautiful day today. One should spend it with a beautiful girl.”
A wisp of a smile grew on her face, seeing how your eyes twinkled.
request/summary: all the times zuko said he loved you, without actually saying it.
prompt: this post inspired me
warning: some angst, mostly fluff
a/n: this is my first time writing zuko and i'm kind of in love with him :') feedback is much appreciated
as a hello
"hello, zuko here." there was a slight smile on his face as he waved gently.
your breath caught in your throat and you found yourself taken aback, expecting anything but that. he greeted you with such familiarly, as if you were old friends reuniting. the way he reminded you of his name– as if you could ever forget the identity of the person who'd been hunting down you and your friends for nearly a year.
zuko didn't try to fight, he didn't prepare himself in a stance to even protect himself as your friends readied for an attack. he simply stood, as if he posed no threat.
he looked to you– the only one who hadn't brought your hands up and prepare whatever defense you had at your disposal. you were stunned, as you tried to analyze the firebender in front of you, until sokka nudged you with his elbow. only then, did you unsheathe the sword kept in the holster at your side.
"hey, i heard you guys flying around down there, so, i just thought i'd wait for you here."
and then, the strangest thing happened– appa licked him.
over a cup of tea
sweat beaded upon your forehead and fall to flow down the sides of your face as you writhed in the sheets of your bed. you weren't hot, you were freezing, but no amount of blankets could help you maintain any warmth. you bunched them around your shoulders and threw yourself on your side, looking for some comfort.
the blinds to your room were closed, creating a stuffy environment. they had been shut since that morning when you'd woken up feeling as if you'd been a victim of bloodbending, again. your muscles were tight and aching, it felt like a great weight on your limbs as you tried to move.
katara's healing didn't have the power to take away the fever or the strain, it wasn't a physical wound to be stitched back up. there wasn't much your friends could offer, besides leaving you alone to wallow in your own helplessness.
suddenly, the door opened. instinctively, your head turned towards the figure. he entered shyly, as if hiding behind the tray in his hands. you narrowed your eyes in curiosity, and propped yourself up against the wall. you moved to get off the bed, but his voice stopped you.
"don't get up." it was an order, but zuko's voice was soft.
he pulled up your desk chair next to your bed, his knees pressed against the soft fabric of your comforter. he laid the tray in his lap, a bowl and a cup, both full of tea, sitting on top.
"hey, zuko," you smiled.
"i, uh, i made your favorite," he offered, handing you the cup.
you took it gratefully, glancing inside the cup. the concoction was murky, with scattered bits of leaf left inside he apparently had paid no attention to. you grimaced, but it fell when you looked back up at him to see a hopeful grin on his face.
offering a tight smile, you brought the cup to your lips. you couldn't bring yourself to face his excited expression as you struggled to keep your composure. oh, spirits, it tasted much worse than it looked. as if it was mud, but acrid. it was hard to ignore the pungent smell as you brought it closer to your nose, tipping the cup as far up as you could to let the liquid run down your throat as quickly as possible.
"how does it taste?" zuko raised his eyebrows, clearly nervous as he found your expression unreadable. "is it okay?"
"yeah!" you said, a little too joyously. for a moment, you forgot how people reacted to good tea. you reminded yourself of iroh, but took it down a few notches. "it's– it's great, zuko."
"do you want any more?"
"i'm okay, actually," you squeaked, placing the cup down on his tray before he could try to insist.
zuko nodded, setting the tray on your desk before turning back to you. he was unsure of himself, what to say or how to react. he just wanted to be there, with you. his eyes lit up with a realization and, hesitantly, he brought the back of his hand to your forehead.
"what're you–"
"my mom used to do it when i got sick... i don't think your fever is going down, you're still warm."
he began to pull his hand away, but you stopped him
by pulling at his wrist.
"actually, i'm freezing," you corrected. the longer he kept his hand against your skin, the better it felt. the contrast of his warm hand against the coolness you felt blanketing your body came as a relief. you placed his hand against your cheek, and for a moment, your eyes fluttered shut.
zuko's eyes widened, and he rubbed his thumb against your cheekbone experimentally. his touch was gentle, offering comfort in his warmth.
the moment between the two of you lasted a few seconds, and zuko leaned closer. but the sudden, obnoxious knocking on your bedroom door tore the two of you apart. he quickly ripped his hand away back to his side, and the two of you turned towards the entrance.
sokka pushed open the door with a careless expression, that quickly turned into a wide smirk as he observed the scene before him. he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.
"zuko, aang's asking for you down on the training grounds. something about some jerkbending practice," he shrugged, ignoring zuko's glare that could burn through him, if he so desired.
zuko stood from his place and pushed your chair back into it's place, then picked up the tray. he cast a glance back towards you. "feel better y/n."
"thanks, zuko," you said softly, already missing the feeling of his hand against your cheek.
he left the room quietly, knocking his shoulder subtly against sokka's. the water tribe boy held back his yelp, and his eyes followed zuko as he disappeared around the corner.
"so..." his grin was smug. "how was the tea?"
"shut up, sokka," you grumbled, sliding back underneath the blankets.
"no, really! i narrowly avoided being the taste-tester, and that's a fate worse than death."
as an apology
watching zuko firebend had become part of your daily routine, his body moved so effortlessly as he trained, it was hard to tear your eyes away from. it started as passing through the day, taking a quick break to pause and look through the trees. but now, you happily took a break from your duties and watched– sometimes joining in for some sparring.
at first you thought he didn't notice, too focused on his bending and quite eager to ignore whatever nonsense was going on around the camp. but, then, he spoke up.
"are you going to stare the entire time?"
you fumbled the laundry basket in your hands, feeling your cheeks warm up.
he stopped his bending, turning to face you. a blush dusted his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "you can sit down– you know, if you want."
a few weeks passed and you couldn't bring yourself to drop the tradition, no matter how much katara begged for a girls day out or aang wanted someone to show his new tricks to. it was nice for you and zuko to be alone.
sometimes, when he would train, he would rant. talk to you about the things weighing down on his shoulders or insulting the very specific way sokka would get on his nerves.
you sat on the bench of the training grounds, your knees drawn up to your chest and your back against the armrest. you were knitting a sweater, once finished it would be for momo. you listened absentmindedly as he punched through the air, every few moments averting your gaze back to him.
a plume of smoke whizzed past your head and your eyes widened, looking up. "watch where you're aiming, zuko."
"sorry," he mumbled half-heartedly, catching the teasing tone in your voice. but he complied, turning his back to you as he continued to practice. "i'm trying to get used to this whole not-angry-bending thing."
"i think you're doing pretty well there, handsome."
the nickname slipped out before you could stop yourself, surprising both of you. your eyes widened and you stopped knitting immediately, snapping your gaze up to him.
the firebender spun around mid-flame, his shock disrupting his bending abilities. the fire whizzed out towards you like a crescent wave, swarming the air.
you had a split second of reaction time. fear washed over you, and you brought your arms up to protect your face, there wasn't anything else you could do. the fire singed your skin, your forearms and all the way to your hands.
"i'm sorry, y/n! i didn't mean to!" he apologized frantically, dropping his arms to his sides, the fire died with that. he made his way over, towering over you with worry. "i– i just lost control! i don't– i don't know why, i–"
your face was contorted in pain as you brought your arms to your chest, the friction against your clothes only making the sensation worse. "it's– okay, zuko," your voice was strained, and stood up. "i just have to get to katara."
though you brushed past him, he followed at your heel. "i'm sorry, y/n," he said again, ignoring how you dismissed him.
you found katara on the patio with aang, both concentrated on their poorly done game of pai sho (they made the rules up as they went). their attention was drawn to you when you skidded to a stop, zuko running into your back.
before you could even sputter it out, or katara could ask what was wrong, he spoke up.
"i– i was bending, and i lost control. i burned her– but i didn't mean to!" he fumbled with his hands, leaning forward as if pleading for them to believe him. "it was an accident!"
"it'll be okay, zuko. calm down," aang stood up, gently facing his palms outward as if zuko was a wild animal he was approaching. he needed to calm down. "katara can heal her."
you walked forward towards katara's open arms, she coaxed you towards the beach. you closed your eyes tightly and ducked your head to the floor, the pain is was excruciating. you didn't want them to see you cry, you didn't want zuko to feel more guilt than he already was.
"i'm so sorry."
stepping off the patio, you glanced over your shoulder. "it's not your fault, zuko."
aang tried to usher him inside the building, but his feet were stiff, as if he was stuck in concrete. he was hesitant to follow, his sad gaze following you as you reached the edge of the beach where katara could heal you. then, he left with aang.
"i've never seen him like that," katara whispered to you.
with no space left between us
the moon was full, and hung high amidst the deep blue hugging every inch of the sky. your eyebrows furrowed subconsciously as you glared up at the stars, lost in thought. the grass was itchy against your skin and the wind brought a cold sweep through your hair.
there was a campfire on the beach you'd pulled yourself away from not too long ago. in the distance, you could still hear sokka's painful singing as he danced around the flames with momo as his partner (after suki refused).
zuko was somewhere over there, fueling the fire and probably shooting the occasional flame at sokka's feet for his and toph's entertainment. you knew you were right when you heard sokka's squeal and then accuse him of sabotoge.
for a brief moment, your attention was drawn away from the sky and you looked over. your expression softened. zuko had a proud smile on his face, doing his best to keep it down. it alerted a fleet of unruly butterflies in your stomach, begging for you to return to your friends.
you wanted to sit beside zuko again but you couldn't, too busy mulling over how to handle whatever it was you felt for him.
he met your gaze, and you offered a soft smile in return. it didn't reach your eyes and faded when you looked back at the sky.
almost immediately, zuko got up from the log he was sitting on and made his way towards you. you wouldn't have realized, if toph hadn't called out: "where ya going, sparky?"
he settled in the grass next to you, mirroring the way you kept your hands clasped over your stomach. there was no room left between you, his arm pushed up against yours comfortably.
"uh..." zuko started out. "you can talk to me, you know that right? about your feelings?"
"yeah," you said, your voice quiet. but you didn't want to talk to him. in fact, you'd rather talk to azula about you were feeling, than him.
silence followed.
"so, why'd you walk away from the fire?"
"i just needed to think."
"about what?"
you turned to face him with a raised eyebrow, only to find him staring back at you. you blushed, but felt a smirk creep over your features.
he sighed, looking up again. "sorry."
zuko was content, laying there with you, looking as if he had not a single thing in the world to worry about. as if next to him, you didn't have a voice in the back of your head screeching for you to do something already.
but you just looked– your eyes followed his facial features and noticed how each time he blinked it was longer than the last, you wondered if he would really fall asleep next to you.
"the stars remind me of you."
you were caught off guard. "what?"
"the stars are... bright, they light up the sky. even when things are dark, and you can’t see clearly, they’re there to show you the way. they're beautiful, and create incredible constellations. i can't look away from them."
whatever you were going to say, died in your throat. you didn't know how to respond. he spoke so casually as if his words didn't light every one of your nerves on fire. the flurry in your stomach only became more extreme. it felt too good to be true, it couldn't be real. the boy you were laying with under the stars told you possibly the most romantic thing you ever heard.
you'd been staring for so long, you forgot you had yet to actually say anything.
zuko faced you, a worrisome expression clouding his features. "was that weird?"
"no!" you squeaked. unwilling to meet his eyes, you looked away. "no, it was really nice. i just didn't expect it, at all. no one's really ever said anything–"
he leaned on his side and placed a hand on your cheek, and feeling that you missed. he didn't give you much time to process as he directed your chin to face him again, and then he kissed you. it was desperate, but soft, not wanting you to pull away but not being demanding. you kissed back with surprise, raising your eyebrows. it lasted a few seconds before he pulled away.
"was that weird?" he pulled his eyebrows together.
"not at all," you smiled gently, sweeping a hand through his hair.
in the distance, toph made herself known. "hey, are you two done over there? you're giving my feet a headache!"
"isn't that a feet-ache?" sokka chimed in, followed by an instantaneous groan as a rock slammed against his head.
"𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀!" Sokka yelled, running after her. Toph, Zuko and Aang glared daggers at Hui who was glancing at the trio knowing for a fact that he messed up big time.
The air was frigid and snow was peacefully falling. Sokka didn't have enough time to admire the sheer beauty of the Southern Tribe’s home. He was too busy covering the top of his face, looking through the snow for his younger sister. He kept yelling out her name, worried that she would be trapped in the coming snow storm that was predicted earlier.
He frowned, wondering where she would go, realising how little time he was spending with her. He couldn't even guess her whereabouts like he could have a few years ago. He decided to try a place they hadn't been to since they were kids.
A cave on the outskirts of their village. The sibling duo would often go there together and play with each other. They used to go a lot more often when their mom had just died. It allowed them both to think, get all their frustration out since they both faced the same issue.
Ever since their father left to fight, they'd been going less. Sokka felt it was his duty to help the village and Katara wanted to make sure her mother's sacrifice wasn't in vain, training as much as she could by herself. They seemed to spend less time together as siblings but rather, as associates with a duty to protect their home. Once they met Aang, they travelled the world for so long that they were rarely home and when they were, they were often going from house to house visiting their neighbours who had praises to provide them for a lifetime. This was the first time they were back in the cave after a long time.
He arrived at the cave, glancing at the entrance to see if she was there. He managed to hear muffled sobs and nodded his head. She was there. He walked in cautiously. It may have been her sister, but she didn't know it was him. One wrong move from him could lead to her acting irrationally.
“Katara?” he called. There was no response. Only more muffled sobs. He found her in what they used to refer to as her corner of the cave. There were various different waterbending scrolls lining the walls of the cave. As well as some of Katara's prized positions. Sokka noticed Aang’s handmade necklace up on the wall.
Katara was on the cave floor, curled up into a ball. Her older brother stood nearby, frozen on the spot, unsure whether to go closer or keep his distance. She didn’t notice his presence and he took this as a good sign, walking closer and eventually sitting down next to her. He said nothing but his next action surprised the both of them. He wrapped his hands around her and pulled her into a hug. Her sobs stopped briefly in surprise. They weren’t exactly known for being touchy-feely siblings but at this moment, neither of them seemed to care. All they were thinking about was how long it had been since they were able to be siblings and not work associates on a mission.
Katara pulled away from his grasp and gave him a small smile. “Thanks Sokka.” that was all she said but Sokka wasn't done yet. He got up and sat on a seat that was naturally made by the cave. He gestured for her to sit next to him, to which she followed. Katara was ready for any sort of excuse to distract herself and considering her idea was to curl up in a ball and cry till she couldn't anymore, she figured her brother couldn’t possibly have a worse idea.
“Let’s talk about feelings.”
Nope he had a far worse idea, so bad it was almost repulsive.
Sokka laughed. “You should've seen your face. I'm only joking sis. I'm not cruel.” Clearly her brother had a different way of looking at emotions and she punched his shoulder playfully.
“But in all honesty Katara, how are you feeling? I mean, you did really love him.”
She sighed. “I don't know how I feel, Sokka. Five minutes ago, I felt like the happiest person in the world but then...in five minutes...just five...my life just crashed.” She had changed her position to hug her knees close to her chest. Sokka frowned, he had a sliver of an idea on what she was feeling like but every break-up is different.
Katara looked up as a realisation hit her. “I'm here crying over a verbal breakup but your girlfriend…” She looked out the cave entrance where the moon was shining bright.
“In a way...it's like she's watching over me so it's not all that bad anymore. It was a little awkward at first with Suki though.” Sokka said with a small laugh. One that Katara couldn't help but replicate.
“I suppose so.” She said as her laughter died out.
“Hey, you don't even have to look at him when we get back or you know, you could severely hurt him but you can't live out of this cave sis.”
“Watch me.”
“Well I can't. The team needs you...I need you. You're the closest thing to a mother figure I've had in so long and you never stopped to rest. We all know that after this you're going to try and work away all your pain by giving yourself more tasks and more responsibilities but it's not going to help Katara. It seems like it will. But all you're doing is overworking and stressing even more than you were before. You're trying to be everyone's saviour but when will you let someone save you?”
Katara glanced up at him. In all honesty, she didn't know. She didn't know why she wanted to save the whole world but shy away when the same help is offered. Maybe..maybe she feared being weak. Once her mom died, the gears in her mind churned 24/7, making sure she rose up to sustain and help her family when they needed her most. She also knew she had a duty to fulfil. To be the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. It was a role she knew she couldn't fail in because lives were lost in trying to find her. In trying to save her.
What happened next was impulse and shocked the siblings both yet again. Katara leaned forward and hugged her brother. While Sokka did sometimes give the young girl hugs, mainly sarcastically or just to annoy her, it was extremely rare for Katara to do the same unless really important. “Thank you Sokka. I know I don't say it enough but I really appreciate what you're trying to do to help me.” She mumbled to him and he smiled through the hug. Once they broke apart, he replied.
“Always Katara. Always. You've looked out for me, let me look out for you. A role I should've been doing from the very beginning.”
They got up and dusted off the snow, walking hand in hand back to the house. They didn't realise how much time had passed but the sun had already set on the ice plains. As they shut the door, they noticed that Hui was no longer in the same house.
“What happened?” Sokka asked the trio who looked evidently pleased with themselves.
“He hurt Katara, he was going to pay.” Toph replied with a shrug.
They ended up laughing it off and went back to a different conversation as the snowfall got heavier and eventually became a storm. Katara and Sokka sat by the window and smiled at each other before staring out. Only they knew what happened between them at the cave, and they intended to keep it that way. A sibling secret that they will forever cherish.
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This is a little oneshot I've been working on since..October I think? Either way, I just love writing sibling relationships and I feel like I haven't done any atla oneshots despite loving the show so much so here's a little tribute to that. I hope you guys enjoyed it. With all that said and done, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays with a very Happy New Year to you all <33
Hi Morosis! Hope you’re doing well (; As you know, I love you and your writing sooo I wanted to request a Sokka blurb with a shy reader who just joined the gang please? 🥺 Maybe sokka and reader are coming back from scouting for a mission or something - reader gets scared and grabs his hand and after they realize it’s nothing sokka teases her but won’t let her hand go even after she tried to pull away then they confess and kiss? 😩
AHH FIRST OF ALL THANK YOUUUU- SECOND OF ALL, CUTE OMG- im so sorry this took so long!! <33 mwahh~
Pairing: Sokka x Reader
Word Count: 400
Warnings: None :)
Y/N and Sokka were heading back to the campsite, where the others were at. They had been chosen to scout the nearby area, making sure they were at a safe place before they went to bed.
"I would say that was a successful scouting trip, don't you thi-" His voice stopped as Y/N clamped her hand on Sokka’s mouth, signalling for him to be quiet.
“What’s wrong?” He immediately scanned the surroundings, concerned for Y/N’s growing panic. She tried taking deep, calming breaths as they approached the source of the sound. She grabbed for his hand, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, stay calm," he muttered into her ear.
They creeped closer, and they jumped past the bush blocking them, ready to fight with swords in their hands.
“Well that was anti-climatic,” Y/N whispered, sighing with relief with a small laugh. It was only a large bird, merely resting near the bush for a bit before flying away.
“You were scared of a bird, huh, Y/N?” Sokka poked her side with a playful grin. She rolled her eyes and noticing that she was still holding Sokka's hand, she tried to pull her hand away from him.
“I thought it was a firebender, okay?" She tugged on her arm. "Sokka- Sokka, let go.” She tried shaking him off, but he wouldn’t let go. She looked him in the eyes, and she saw a mischievous glint in them.
“Y/NNNN-” he whined. “But what if I’m scared?” She frowned at his teasing, and this made Sokka's smile grow brighter. "Joking." He smiled, but still wouldn't let go.
"Come on, Sokka," she said, exasperated.
"Why can't I just hold your hand?" he said with a pout, making Y/N blush.
"Why do you want to, anyways?" she responded.
"Hmm. Maybe..." he turned away, causing her to look at him. Sokka cleared his throat. "Maybe because... I like you? Besides, I can't stand the idea of you getting hurt... and I would feel a lot better if you held my hand." He was now blushing as well, looking at the floor rather than Y/N.
"Oh... I..." Her voice trailed off.
"Sorry, I just-" He frantically searched for words to say. "I don't know, it's fine if you just ignored what I said. I know we're in a war right now, and the timing is bad. Sorry if it makes you uncom-" Y/N leaned in to kiss him, causing him to stop rambling.
"Sokka." He froze. "I like you, too."
"Oh. Ohh. OHH." He practically jumped for joy, a huge smile on his face; the smile Y/N always loved.
"Now let's get back, shall we?" Y/N said. Sokka nodded, and the two walked towards camp, hand in hand.
OKAY UHM CHILE ANYWAYS SJDJJE
That feels super rushed, I'm so sorry AHH
ATLA taglist (send an ask to get added!) @urmomoness @zuko-is-the-sun @busyforkuvira @appa-gaangnam-style @xxspqcebunsxx @akiris @welovediaaxx @ray-ofmoonlight @sokkaandzukosimp @u-4iia @villslov
Author’s Note: Hello again! School has been kicking my ass recently but no homework today so I got to edit this oneshot which I’ve been neglecting for far too long (thank you @refulgentart for helping my dumbass edit ily). I don’t normally touch ATLA in terms of writing, but I saw this really rad piece of art by the amazing @elithien (which you can find here) that inspired me to try it out :) You can find the link for the ao3 version of this here (please go and throw some kudos at it if you’d like <3). Please enjoy!
requests open, notes appreciated :) thanks for sticking around!
Hand-to-hand combat was the fucking worst, and Zuko grinned knowing that was exactly what Katara was thinking. In retrospect, she knew it was so much easier to channel your energy into something like water, graceful, flowing, gentle yet powerful; than to use just the power available to you. In this case, the power available to her was her small, not particularly muscular limbs. Her thin fingers were not built to fight, just to dance with the water.
This is probably why Zuko looked like he was having such a good time. In the early twilight next to the small campfire they had set up, his body was one with the flickering of the shadows, tall and imposing as they wavered on the trunks of the tall evergreens. Fire was force. Fire was brutal and unforgiving and a promise; the eternal promise of power. There was a reason they were originally so opposed to each other- she went to sleep every night remembering that crystal cave, both of them bathed in the soft blue glow of the walls. As if it was just them, sitting at the bottom of a still ocean. The world was so vast, and they clung to each other the way snow stuck to her clothes. Despite everything that followed, she didn't think they ever let go. But she felt different now, Zuko had redeemed himself in every way that was available to him, and then every way that wasn't. She watched as he constantly sought out ways to make her life better. The last few years following the end of his father’s reign he spent rebuilding his country and fixing their friendship, both with a gentle hand the late Fire Lord Ozai was never capable of. The way he looked at her like he did after she told him about her mother, she saw it in his gaze every day.
“Katara, you okay?” She snapped out of whatever haze she was in, looking back at Zuko who relaxed his stance. They were practicing turning kicks, but all she could do was think about the way he looked at her. She let out a sharp breath in an attempt to snap herself out of whatever place her mind was at. This wasn't productive for either of them, she tried to push off her embarrassment, getting into stance.
“Sorry, I’m ready,” she stated firmly. He nodded with a small and forgiving smile and got into a defense stance.
“He never used to smile like that.” She kicked, turning her foot out as she raised her other leg up and swung forward towards his arms. She knew it was a bad one before she even followed through on the motion.
“Try again, this time use your right arm to propel you forward.” He gave her a small nod of encouragement and she tried again. This time her foot met its target, but still pretty sloppy. She was so used to being loose and open. This art of fighting was all tight and close, she wasn't familiar with being so close to herself. The arms guarding her chest missed the mindless dance of limbs and water, she felt more like a rock in a stream. He got out of stance and took a few steps toward her, positioning himself behind her. She tried not to react as he put one hand on her arm and another on her waist. His hands were similar to hers, fire and water both came from long, thin fingers. But his hands had seen battle, fire drew his calloused fingers and palms, yet he held her as if she was glass.
“Keep your shoulders down and your left arm close,” He pulled her arm closer in towards the two of them, blocking her chest area. “If you’re using your other arm to add force, be ready to bring it up-” he guided her arm up, “out,” as he pushed her arm out with his right hand, she could feel his breath on her ear, “and back towards you to protect yourself.” When he brought her arm back towards her chest, he paused. They lingered there for a moment. Stood with his hand on her waist and his other arm wrapped around her torso. She could have burst into Summer rain if he held her a second longer, but he let go, the heat of his hand on her arm and waist dissipated. She didn’t know if she wanted that feeling to stay. He took a few steps back and got into position.
“Try again.” His eyes never left hers. She nodded and gave him a small smile, and he looked as if he was trying not to smile back as she pushed all of her energy into her right side and kicked into his arms. The impact seemed to make a slight echo, the sound of their connection bounced off the trees and was lost in the ambiance of the grasshoppers and wind. But it was there, she still felt it in her core, whatever this feeling was.
Katara tried again. And she tried again. It may have been an hour of her kicking, Zuko giving feedback and her adjusting a little bit, hoping her muscles would remember this the way she could remember the water. Eventually when the night caught up to them, with shallow breath and tired muscles, the two sat against the fallen log that laid next to the fire as they ate. After eating in silence for a while, Katara paused. “How…” she trailed off. She didn’t understand how to phrase the question in a way that a fire bender would understand. He looked over at her with curious intent, and she almost could bear his gaze, she still felt the outline of his hand on her waist.
“How do you remember? With water, it’s how I grew up, how I lived, spoke, fought, loved-” she caught herself, realizing how far this question went. “Fire is all you know, it’s what you were taught, it’s the society you lived in, it shows in how you live and interact with people,” she looked over at him to see if he understood. He nodded, understanding and pushing her to continue. “When it is just fighting, with no elements involved, how do you remember something that hasn't been a part of you your whole life?” She looked over at him, but not in his eyes. She would do anything to avoid his eyes in that moment, an attempt to ignore the feeling of him studying her. But he nodded, and looked into the endless forest that surrounded them. She could see him thinking over the question, the way one evaluates a battle strategy. He nodded to himself and scooted over closer to her. She tried to ignore her heart, now banging on the front of her chest like a trapped animal.
“Knowing and feeling are different, you and I know that more than everyone,” she nodded, understanding but not knowing where he would lead his advice. “When you know something, it’s shallow. There might be effort, but it will always only be half of what you are capable of until you can feel it. It’s the same way you feel when you look back on memories, or think about someone you love or hate.” Zuko stopped and looked over at her, but wouldn’t look at her in the eyes. She knew the void expression, the eyes of someone who held the weight of death in their hands and should have let go of it long ago. The way a child in war only remembers the pain they caused because it was all they knew. That child was Zuko, and she tried to restrain herself, knowing he still blames himself for the death of her mother. “When you remember fighting, it isn’t like learning at school. Remember the kicks and the punches like they are a feeling, one that constantly fills you and follows you. It can be bad or good, but it’s a feeling that you can call on whenever, and it’ll be there for you.” She looked at him, taking in his words and their underlying emotions as he looked down at the forest floor, mindlessly weaving the grass between his fingers.
“I understand,” she said, almost but not quite a whisper, barely heard over the lull of the wind. She sat on his left side, towards his scar. To him, she knew it was painful. Katara saw where he drew his fight and his flame from. But she saw it differently. To her, his scar was a promise to be better, a promise to both of them she remembered every day. She leaned forward, tracing the bottom of the scar around his cheek. Almost to her surprise, she felt as he leaned into her touch, and she regretted the day she asked him to remove it, a reminder of how much they had grown since they were kids, stuck in a war that wasn't theirs to fight.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning forward and holding the other side of his face as she lightly kissed the area next to his eye. The smell of smoke and pine lingered around him, and she took as much of it in as she could. Her lips lingered, and the heat of his skin on her lips made her almost giddy. He smiled, his hand finding hers and giving it a small squeeze. The midnight sky glimmered through the trees, and Katara gazed up. The feeling of this, of now, forever imprinted in her.
