#zkmonth

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Bonus Day 31: Bridge

i was very upset when this prompt wasn't chosen as i was very excited about it and had already written for it

based on Tessa and Jem's reunion from Cassandra Clare's novels

you found me

Katara hadn’t seen Zuko in a couple of years. She’d sequestered herself away with the Iron Sisters in the Adamant Citadel to help with the war effort. As a result, she hadn’t been able to make their yearly meetings. They’d been meeting on Blackfriar’s Bridge once a year since 1879 and had only missed a handful of meetings since.

Today, though, was different. Today the Mortal War was over and Katara finally felt comfortable leaving the Adamant Citadel to meet with the boy she should have married all those years ago. Even though he’d become a Silent Brother to keep from dying, and subsequently forfeited his ability to marry her, she still loved him. And she always would, just as she loved Jet, the boy who’d loved her until he died. The boy who had been Zuko’s parabatai and fought desperately to help his best friend stay alive. The boy who had cried for Zuko when they thought he’d died and then again when they realized what Zuko becoming a Silent Brother would mean.

Thoughts of Jet used to make her curl up in a ball and weep, but it had been so long now that she just looked back with love and a touch of sadness. She’d been able to watch Jet grow old and be with him until he died, but she would never die. Watching him go where she couldn’t follow had left her all but catatonic for several years after his death. The only one who could understand what she was going through was Aang, a warlock who had lived longer than she had.

A gust of wind trying to snatch her scarf from her returned her to the present, and she continued along the bridge as she adjusted it, looking for the robes Zuko had worn since taking his vow of silence.

There was a young man standing where they usually met, and at first Katara was confused but then he shifted his weight and she gasped, the flood of memories almost knocking her to the ground.

Could it be–?

She found herself quickening her pace, almost running, unsure of what she was seeing but desperately hoping it wasn’t a dream.

Finally, he heard her, and he turned.

She crashed into him, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face into his sweater. As though no time had passed, he caught her as he always had before. When they were young and (almost) carefree and engaged. When they were planning their wedding and their life together.

“How–?” she choked, trying to hold back the tears.

He held her tighter and buried his face in her hair.

“That’s a long story,” he said, his chest rumbling with a stifled laugh. “A story of Carstairs and Herondales and Blackthorns, if you’d believe it.”

Katara pulled back from him and studied his face, drinking in his features. The scar he’d gotten when his parents were killed spanned from his left eye to his left ear. His hair was black and soft. His eyes were golden, looking at her as though she were the only thing in the world. She reached up and put her hand on his scarred cheek, running her thumb over his bottom lip.

“You’re really… you again?”

“Yes,” Zuko breathed.

Suddenly, she was no longer in his arms and he was a step away from her. She dropped her hand, confused.

“Katara,” he started, his voice strangled, “I know it’s been decades. Almost two centuries. And I know you loved Jet and he loved you and you had a beautiful family together, and I know we never thought this day could ever come, but…”

Zuko stepped forward and gently took her hands in his.

“Katara,” he breathed. “I know you loved me once, but I need to know. Is it possible… could it be possible that you still love me?”

So many emotions were rushing through her at once that she couldn’t speak. As he’d said, she never thought a day could come when Zuko wouldn’t be on the brink of death and they could be together, fully together, for a lifetime. In the back of her mind she remembered the agony of losing Jet but she ignored it. As Aang had said, the memories she’d shared with Jet were more than worth the pain of his death. All of those years ago she would have changed anything, everything, to get this opportunity.

For her, nothing had changed.

She squeezed Zuko’s hands as tightly as she could.

“Zuko,” she said, “I never stopped loving you. Not for a moment.”

Katara reached up and pulled down her scarf to show him that she was still wearing the necklace that had been his mother’s, the one he’d given them for their engagement.

His eyes fell to the pendant and she watched as his expression changed to wonder.

“Now the real question is,” she said slowly, desperately wanting to and not wanting to know the answer, “whether you still love me.”

Zuko’s eyes snapped to hers.

“Katara, I’ve loved you for more lifetimes than I can count,” he said. “Nothing has changed how I feel for you.”

She took a step closer to him, putting his arms around her waist and hers around his neck again.

“That’s settled then,” she said, smiling more than she had in a long time, and when she kissed Zuko for the first time in decades, she was pleased to find he was smiling as well.

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Day 30: Denial

Katara went to Zuko’s room before the coronation to make sure he was healing properly. This is what she told herself; she was actually just going because she wanted to see him before he took on the persona of the Fire Lord. She didn’t know how, but she knew it would change things between them.

Just as she rounded the corner to Zuko’s room, she saw someone else, someone with dark hair and a dark robe, slip into the room before she could. Somewhere deep in her bones, she knew she was too late. For what, she had no idea, but something in her broke when she saw the tails of the other girl’s robe disappear into Zuko’s room.

She found she couldn’t help herself; she creeped over to the door, straining to hear what the two were saying.

When the girl, obviously Mai, demanded Zuko never break up with her again, it felt like the floor had been pulled out from under her. Before she could reveal herself, she clutched one hand to her mouth and slipped away. Her feet took her to the garden Zuko had shown her, the one where he’d fed turtle-ducks with his mother and had been pleased to find they were still there.

Finally, once she was alone, her legs gave out, causing her to crash to her knees at the edge of the water. She stared at her reflection in the pool and ached.

Later, when her marriage to Aang was falling apart and Zuko’s relationship with Mai had somehow survived and thrived for over a decade, Katara couldn’t help but ache. For so long she’d shoved it away, refusing to let it affect her relationship with Aang and upset their family dynamic, but when Aang began to turn away from her the few nights he was even home, the pain in the depths of her heart reared its ugly head and forced her to pay attention to it.

When the letter from Zuko came, her heart leapt; when she broke its seal and scanned the first few lines, her heart sank. She packed up Bumi and Kya, as she refused to leave them in the negligent care of the Air Nomads on Airbender Island, and went to the Caldera as quickly as she could.

She was almost too late.

When she got there, sending Bumi and Kya with a servant to their room, she found Zuko in his, the door open, him kneeling next to the bed Mai was laying on, their baby crying a room over with its now-mandatory wet nurse. The sobs coming from Zuko were more heart-wrenching than anything Katara had ever heard before.

She rushed to Mai’s side, pulling water from her pouch, covering her hands with it and beginning her examination. Zuko ignored her, head on his arms, weeping into the immaculate bedspread. When she realized she was just in time, Katara took a deep breath and called on the one ability only she could perform, the one she’d convinced Aang not to outlaw because to outlaw it would be to publicly reveal its existence: bloodbending.

Katara felt for the blood that was still ceasing to flow in Mai’s veins and tugged, stopping the bleeding by healing her, pushing her heart, forcing it to beat, praying it would work. Hoping the slight woman had enough blood left to sustain her, that she’d eaten something during labor that would lend her body the strength it needed. She worked the blood through Mai’s body for several agonizing minutes before she felt the other woman’s heart begin to beat on its own.

Katara breathed a sigh of relief, but didn’t stop working. From a different pouch at her waist she pulled a tincture she kept for these situations. It consisted of manjistha, olive leaves, and garlic. She unstoppered the bottle and bent a few drops from the concentrated mixture, holding them in the air with one hand while with the other she opened Mai’s mouth and lifted her tongue to bend the drops there, where they’d enter the bloodstream the fastest. As Katara helped the tincture work its way into Mai’s blood, the other woman coughed and began to breathe, but remained unconscious.

At the edge of her awareness Katara saw Zuko shoot up, but she focused on moving the medicine through Mai’s blood and making sure no infections lingered in her blood.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Katara deemed Mai to be stable and gave her a different tincture to keep her asleep so she could heal.

“Katara,” Zuko’s voice snapped her attention to him, as it always had.

“Yes?” she asked, tucking her bottles back into their pouch and not looking at him.

She was aware, of course, of what she’d just done. What she could now never hope to have, even if it would have been in the distant future.

“Thank you.” The sincerity and relief in his voice ripped through her.

All Katara could do was nod and leave the room to check on her children.

inspired by the following poem:

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Day 29: Avatar Katara

“Excellent work, Prince Zuko,” Fire Lord Ozai said, looking down on the kneeling form of the son he’d banished not that long ago. “You made quick work of what seemed an insurmountable task. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

Zuko nodded and was dismissed from the throne room, head reeling.

Somehow he’d managed to capture the Avatar, a young woman from the Southern Water Tribe. Despite reports that all the waterbenders from the South had been captured or killed, Zuko had had a sneaking suspicion that that was where the Avatar was, powers dormant until needed.

When he’d raided her village, she’d needed them, using a waterbending move to shoot fire at him, shocking everyone in the vicinity including herself. Except him. She’d done just what he’d hoped one of them would.

Before any of them could react any more than stare in stunned silence, Zuko had tackled the girl, putting the cuffs on her before she could deflect or retaliate, and pulling her to her feet by the chain.

“Thank you for your contribution to the war effort,” he’d said to the gathered tribespeople. One of them, a boy not much older than the girl in chains, surged forward, but was shoved to the ground by one of Zuko’s guards.

“Katara!” he’d cried as Zuko pulled the girl away.

The next morning, Zuko woke up to a servant with a scroll on a platter, sealed with his father’s seal. He sat up, took the scroll, and dismissed the servant before splitting it open.

When he read his father’s order, his eyes widened.

It was his job to break the girl’s spirit? How on earth was he supposed to do that?

He tossed the scroll aside and then thought better of it, tucking it in a hiding place he knew Azula wouldn’t be able to find before pulling on his every day robes and stepping out into the hallway.

Getting to the specially made dungeon wasn’t difficult, of course. Zuko had been present when it was dedicated, almost four years ago now. Back when the previous Avatar had accidentally died in the altercation meant to capture him, Ozai realized they needed to find the new one and keep them alive.

The difficult part was going to be doing whatever needed to be done to break this girl, make it so she didn’t want to leave or fight. Maybe even work for them, he guessed, if he could accomplish such a thing.

With a sigh, Zuko signaled for the guard to unlock the door and let him in.

Unfortunately for Zuko but definitely fortunately for Katara, he decided in the moment between him being in the hallway and him being in her cell that the best course of action would be to get to know her. Act like he was on her side. Like he was trustworthy.

Unfortunately for Zuko, this led to him learning a lot about her and beginning to actually like her. Maybe even see the errors of the Fire Nation’s ways.

Fortunately for Katara, this led to him eventually deciding to let her out, telling his father that she was harmless when in actuality he wanted to get both of them out of the capital.

It didn’t hurt that he’d turned to his uncle for advice on how to handle the Avatar, either.

Their escape from the capital was so spontaneous they hadn’t even known when it was going to happen. Iroh bundled them out of the palace in the middle of the night and onto the ship Zuko had used to find her, the one Iroh owned and crewed. They immediately set sail for the Southern Water Tribe to retrieve Katara’s brother, make apologies to her people, and come up with a plan for them to retreat deeper into the South Pole because once they were discovered missing that would be the first place the Fire Nation would go. Thankfully Katara was able to waterbend them through the ocean so that they traveled twice as quickly as they would have otherwise.

Once Sokka was on board, figuratively and literally, and the rest of their tribe safe, they set a course for the Earth Kingdom and a new ship.

To Zuko’s surprise, when they were on the open water again, Katara kissed him on the cheek. She walked away, leaving him stunned with his hand on his cheek, wondering why she’d done it. He’d been the one who’d kidnapped her in the first place, after all.

“It looks like apologetic action works wonders with Water Tribe members,” his uncle mused.

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Day 28: Catching Feelings

If he were to be asked when he fell in love with Katara, he wouldn’t be able to give a specific answer. It could have been when she pushed his sister into the mud on the playground because Azula was being her usual cruel self, even at the age of 7. It could have been when she’d bandaged him up after he’d fallen out of a tree in middle school and somehow only managed to cut his arm open. It could have been in high school, when he watched every boy in both of their classes try to ask her out. It could have been in college, when he had to say goodbye to her at the end of every summer and it was the worst thing he’d ever had to do.

It could have been just now, when she told him she was pregnant with Jet’s baby and didn’t know what to do because she’d just escaped his abuse and come to live with Zuko.

It was probably all of those moments, or any one of them. It didn’t really matter.

What mattered was Katara. Always Katara.

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Day 27: Tea Shop

Katara’s weekend shifts at the Jasmine Dragon went something like this.

If she worked on Saturday, she was working with Suki, who was rambunctious and fun and very interested in Katara’s brother whenever he came by to visit. Eventually Katara ended up convincing Sokka to ask Suki out, and then Saturdays turned into demands for childhood stories and dirt on Sokka with a sprinkling of talking about how amazing their dates were and eventually, their sex life.

If she worked on a Sunday, she was working with Zuko, who was quiet and withdrawn, but kind. So, so kind.

Zuko didn’t talk much, and as Katara was a very social employee this was a bit of a problem. She worried she was driving him crazy by prattling on about everything in her life while they worked, with Zuko nodding or making small comments at the appropriate times. But when she saw Zuko on campus, alone every time she saw him, she stopped worrying and began hoping that her constant talking was helping him in some way.

Apparently this hope was fruitful, because one Sunday after their shift Zuko asked Katara if she wanted to walk back to campus with him.

She agreed immediately, turning away to hide the blush that had spread across her cheeks. For a while now she’d been interested in Zuko as more than just a tea-making-and-serving buddy, which Suki had been teasing her incessantly about, but she didn’t have the courage to say anything to him.

To her complete and utter surprise, Zuko talked most of the way home. He told her about his mother, his home in the Fire Nation, his childhood friends, his sister, the turtleducks in the pond in their garden. By the time they reached the door to Katara’s dorm building, she was in so deep she knew there was no way she’d be able to climb back out again.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to. Zuko said goodnight, studied her for a moment, and then kissed her quickly on the cheek before walking away.

Katara smiled, holding her hand to her face, and let herself into her building.

The following Sunday, she had enough courage to ask Zuko out, and they stayed after work, drinking tea together and just talking until the early hours of the morning.

Iroh looked in on them from the kitchen, wondering if they were ever going to leave, and smiling at his nephew’s expression. The old man had hoped working for him would do Zuko some good and was glad to find it was doing more good than Iroh had dared to hope for.

He closed the door to the kitchen and slipped out the back, whistling to himself as he walked home.

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Day 26: Scars

The screams tore at Katara’s throat as they wrenched her out of sleep. Her hands were clutching the blankets she was tangled up in, and before she could get her bearings the door adjoining her and Zuko’s room opened.

“Katara!”

She was in Zuko’s arms once he crossed the room, and she buried her face in his chest.

“Shh,” he said, running his hand over her hair and patting her back.

It was then she realized she was sobbing, huge stomach sobs that made her shoulders ache. Instead of fighting it, she let it run its course, snuggling into Zuko and making him hold her even tighter.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her tears subsided and she collapsed in Zuko’s arms. He pulled her into his lap and continued to hold her, rubbing her back and whispering comfort until she wrapped her arms around him in return.

“Nightmares?” he asked, letting his arms settle around her waist.

She nodded into his neck.

“Azula?”

She nodded again.

“Me?”

She let out a dry sob as she nodded again.

“I’m right here, Katara,” he soothed. “Azula lost. You saved me. Everything is alright.”

She nodded again, burying her face in his shoulder.

He pulled her closer and returned to rubbing her back. They sat in a companionable silence for a while before Zuko spoke again.

“I have them too.”

She pulled back and looked at his face. His golden eyes met hers and she saw the pain she felt in them.

“Sometimes I don’t get in front of you in time,” he whispered. “Sometimes I have to watch from the ground as Azula beats you. Sometimes…”

His voice trailed off.

“I’m here,” she whispered, putting her hand on his scarred cheek. “Azula lost. You saved me. We’re both alright.”

He let out a puff of air, amused at her turning her words back on him.

“I know,” he said, reaching up to put a hand on the one she had on his face. “I’m so glad.”

Katara put her forehead on his and closed her eyes, soaking in his presence.

“Stay with me,” she whispered.

“Always and forever,” he whispered back.

It didn’t take much for Katara to meet his lips with hers. They kissed deeply and slowly before releasing each other. Katara moved off of Zuko’s lap and wriggled back under the covers. He joined her, pulling them over himself and laying as close to her as he could get. She rolled away from him and he pulled her to his chest, resting his arm over her waist and sliding the other beneath her head. She snuggled into him and he sighed.

Together, they slept, the scars of their past held at bay for one more night.

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Day 25: Modern AU

For days, Katara avoided Zuko as much as someone could avoid a person they lived with. He never said anything or tried to force interaction, so she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d known what Toph was going to do or asked her to. Eventually she realized this was ridiculous, as Zuko had always been a bit withdrawn, and he probably figured that after her abortion she didn’t really want any company for a while, especially male.

It was Sokka who got her to talk to him, about a week after Toph’s revelation.

“Katara, Zuko has always been obviously in love with you,” he said as they had pizza at the mall. “All of us have known since, like, the beginning of time.”

She rolled her eyes and toyed with her straw wrapper.

“I didn’t ask you to come shopping with me because I wanted someone else to try to convince me that Zuko’s in love with me.”

“No, but somewhere deep inside you knew that would be on the agenda, so shut it.”

“I will not!” Katara burst, sitting up straight in her seat. “What do you want me to do with this information after I just got out of a horribly abusive relationship?”

“Katara–” “No! Zuko was one of a handful of people I felt completely comfortable with but now I can’t even look at him without wondering if he’s thinking about getting me in bed.”

“Would he do that?” Sokka asked softly.

“No,” she admitted begrudgingly. “But it doesn’t matter! I can no longer separate the concept of ‘man’ from the concept of ‘my best friend Zuko’ and until I can do that I don’t think I can live with him anymore!”

Sokka’s eyes widened.

“Katara–”

She got up, abandoning her food, and left Sokka staring after her.

That evening, while Zuko was at work, she packed the few things she had in his spare room and left, leaving him a note that she was going to stay with her parents until she got back on her feet. Then she turned her phone off and got on a bus.

Her mother welcomed her with open arms, of course. Her father was away for work and she was grateful for the presence of her daughter, which was obvious in how closely she stuck by Katara’s side as she settled into her old room, and how she made all of Katara’s favorite foods for dinner.

In the back of her mind Katara half-expected Zuko to show up right after he got off work, but she knew he wouldn’t do that. For the first time, though, she had no idea how Zuko would react to this. She’d never left without notice before. Not him. Never him.

The next morning, when her mom went to work, Katara called off, feeling sorry for herself and unwilling to deal with the outside world. This is why, when someone knocked at almost lunch time, she was home to answer the door.

When she saw it was Zuko she almost slammed the door in his face, but when her mind registered his expression she didn’t, choosing simply to stand in the doorway, not letting him in but not sending him away either.

“Toph told me what she said to you,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m so, so sorry Katara. I didn’t want her to tell you. I would have never asked her to.”

She nodded.

“Why did you leave?” he asked. “Did I do something–?”

Katara shook her head and did her best to explain how uncomfortable she was knowing that he liked her after she’d just gotten out of a relationship with an abusive liar. She was suddenly unable to trust anything he did, as she’d lived with Jet and so many things were triggering to her.

“I’m so sorry, Katara,” he said again when she finished her explanation. “I completely understand.”

He turned to go, but something made Katara stop him.

“Wait!”

Zuko stopped and turned to face her, keeping his expression as neutral as he could.

“I know… I know I have no right to ask this… But… would you…”

It felt like all of time stopped around them.

“Would you… wait for me?”

The air left Zuko in a rush and his face broke out in an expression of pure relief.

“Always, Katara,” he said softly before turning and walking away.

She watched him go and tucked those words into the spot in her heart reserved for Zuko.

Someday, she would be ready for him. But both of them knew it was not today.

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Day 24: Arranged Marriage

In times of peace, alliances are formed by other means. Treaties and trade agreements perform most of the work, but sometimes a more delicate approach is needed. When a country wants more land under their control, they trade their daughter for it by marrying her to another country’s son. When a country wants better export taxes, they trade their son for it by marrying him to another country’s daughter.

In Katara’s case, her father wanted to maintain control of the waters they fished, as the Fire Nation was subtly trying to encroach on their territory. He wanted to avoid a war, he told her, and this was the best way to do it. She’d retaliated, pointing out that a Southern Water Tribe woman hadn’t been married off in over a century, since they’d gained independence from the North.

“I know,” Hakoda said sadly. “But times are changing. We have to be practical.”

As she packed her bags she seriously considered running away, but eventually had to concede that she would have no idea where to go. Everyone she knew in any other country had the power and ability to send for her father to retrieve her, and probably would. Every other country settled things by marriage.

“Lighten up,” her brother Sokka said, leaning against her doorway as she angrily threw things into her bag. “Maybe this Zuko guy isn’t that bad.”

She thought of the rumors they’d heard about his father and shook her head.

“If he’s anything like Ozai,” she said venomously, “you’ll never hear from me again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Brides of the Fire Nation royal family are apparently expected to cut all ties with their own families and completely commit to being a princess or a lady or whatever they’re called,” she explained. “Didn’t you hear the whispers in Ba Sing Se at that dinner we attended with Dad? When Ozai and his wife entered?”

“Nah, I don’t listen to that stuff,” he replied, but his voice had lost all brevity.

“You should start,” she said as she wrapped one of her mother’s baubles in one of her shirts. “You won’t have me around anymore to look after you.”

This hadn’t seemed to occur to him yet, as he stared after as she left the room to try to come up with a betrothal gift for her soon-to-be husband.

Katara’s first impression of the Fire Nation royal family was that it was large. Fire Lord Iroh and his wife, Tasheng, who was a princess from the Earth Kingdom, were standing with their son, Prince Lu Ten, and his wife, Yue, who was the daughter of the chief of the Northern Water Tribe. She was subtly pregnant, as evidenced by how her hands laid against her torso as she stood. That and Katara’s extensive healing training.

Prince Ozai and his wife, Ursa, were standing with their two children, Zuko and Azula. Azula was her age and Zuko two years older. She’d seen them from afar at diplomatic events but had never spoken to either of them. She wondered if Azula was betrothed. She tried to study Zuko, but before she got a good look at him she was swept into introductions and pleasantries and the kinds of court interactions that made her toes curl, but she played along.

She’d seen enough during her time as her father’s daughter to know not only how not to make a fool of herself, but also how to make an impression.

At the end of the interaction, she could tell by the look on Iroh’s face that she’d made a good one.

She spent that night in Yue’s room, to her surprise. She’d expected to be given her own room, but Yue told her that wasn’t allowed on the eve of a woman’s wedding to deter the groom from trying to see his bride during the night.

“I’m getting married tomorrow?” she asked, throat tight. Katara found herself letting a bit of her guard down in the presence of someone who might know what she was going through.

“Yes,” Yue said, sitting down carefully in a chair. “Your father sent along your measurements so your outfit could be prepared while you traveled, and the seamstress will be here in the morning for the final fitting before the festivities.”

Katara’s brain filled with questions and for a moment she was speechless.

“They were going to put you with Azula,” Yue continued, “but I convinced them the transition would be easier for you if you were with someone from the Water Tribes.”

“Thank you,” Katara said.

Yue nodded.

“Now get some sleep. Tomorrow is your big day.”

It turned out that wedding days in the Fire Nation were less about the married couple themselves and more about the ceremony. As she was completely unfamiliar with it she struggled, but thankfully there was a servant specially placed to guide her through anything she’d forgotten after Yue’s coaching that morning. Katara had spent the ship ride to the Fire Nation studying its traditional language, so thankfully she came close to pronouncing things correctly, although there was once or twice where she fumbled over something and Zuko winced, whether in sympathy or embarrassment she couldn’t tell.

Finally it was over and they were seated at the head table, to eat and receive their guests. This was the first opportunity she had to speak to Zuko, and she found she had no idea what to say. Thankfully receiving their guests took up most of their attention, and even that didn’t require them to interact with each other.

After dinner, they retired to Zuko’s room. She expected someone to stay with them, or stand at the door or behind a screen, to make sure they consummated, but they were left alone. Katara looked at Zuko quizzically and he shrugged.

“I’m almost fourth in line for the throne,” he said. “They’re not terribly worried about trying to get heirs from me.”

“But I read that it was tradition–”

“Do you want someone in here with us right now?”

She swallowed audibly and shook her head.

“Do you need someone to help you take off your outfit?” To her surprise, his voice was kind and genuine, not trying to make fun of her or demean her in any way.

Despite this, a bit of her fire returned and she replied, “Someone meaning you?”

Zuko sighed and shook his head.

“No, I can call for a servant to help you,” he said, turning to go into the adjoining bathroom himself. “But if you think you can handle it–” “I can,” she said, holding her chin defiantly.

He nodded and retreated, closing the door behind him.

To Katara’s dismay, she found she couldn’t handle it by herself. She was in so many layers and some of them were tied in ways she couldn’t comprehend by touch, so when Zuko hesitantly emerged from the restroom she hadn’t made much progress. He stopped her before she could start tearing at the fabric.

“Let me help you,” he said quietly, putting his hand on hers where it sat trying to untie the outer layer. “I’ll be proper, honest.”

She shot him a glare, but his face was open and, again, undemeaning. A bit surprised by this prince of the Fire Nation, she nodded and let him help her.

With his expertise with wearing Fire Nation garb, he had her in her final layer, a simple shift over her sarashi wrappings, in no time. He didn’t ogle her or anything when he was done, he simply placed the clothes over one of the chairs in the room.

“If you don’t want to sleep with me,” he said, “there’s a passage between this room and the one next to it. It’s already been prepared for you, because after tonight it’s your room, so if you’d be more comfortable by yourself you can be.”

Katara thought about this, crossing her arms and studying the man before her. He’d been much kinder than she’d expected him to be, and was even less hotheaded, handling even obviously wheedling nobles with ease and social dexterity she didn’t possess. The only person he seemed to dislike was his sister, which wasn’t surprising as Katara’s own observations of Azula weren’t very favorable. There were also a couple of times during the ceremony and the dinner when she’d glanced at him to find him already looking at her.

All of her bravado left her at the thought of sleeping completely alone in this giant, unfamiliar palace, and she shook her head.

Zuko’s eyes widened in surprise, but he accepted her decision and climbed into bed, leaving her plenty of space.

She made her way to the bed as well, still a bit suspicious he might suddenly turn on her, but he didn’t move. He just watched her. She felt herself flush and climbed under the covers, laying facing away from him so he couldn’t see her face.

“Good night, Katara,” he said softly before firebending the lights away.

“Good night, Zuko,” she said.

A couple of hours later, Katara found herself still unable to sleep. She’d been listening to Zuko’s breathing but couldn’t quite tell if he’d fallen unconscious or was also still awake. When she rolled over to face him, her question was answered by finding him staring at the ceiling.

“Do you ever wonder what we might be doing if other people in our lives made different choices?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” she said. “I bet neither of us would be here.”

He turned to look at her and when gold eyes met blue something shuddered through Katara’s being.

“I don’t know about that,” he said softly.