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Chapter Text

Prince Zuko was something of a legend. After organizing a successful coup d'état against his tyrannical father, ending the civil war that had plagued the Fire Nation for decades, he stood poised to ascend the throne. No one doubted that he would make a most benevolent ruler. But before he could take power, as dictated by law, he must first take a wife. Any woman in the country would have been delighted to fill this role, to be his—except one.

.::.

34…35…36… She counted each brush stroke as she stared numbly at the bleak wall. Today was the day. He was coming to the small island village of Akvo next in search of his bride. Pretty desperate for a prince, she thought. She felt the final pin push into her scalp. "There. Stand up, Katara, let me see you." Katara rose from the wobbly stool and turned to face her grandmother. She wore her nicest dress, a pale blue ankle-length dress embroidered with leaping koi, and her long, thick locks were fixed into an elaborate style by old, deft hands. "Oh, you look beautiful," Kanna said, clapping her wrinkled hands. "Hakoda! Sokka! Come in here!" The two men ducked into the bedroom already dressed in their finest as well.

"Absolutely gorgeous," her father said. "You look just like your mother." Hakoda stepped forward and kissed his daughter's forehead. "She would be proud to see you today."

'Proud of what? That I've grown up to look so pretty for a man I don't even know to ogle me?' Katara kept these angry thoughts inside as her father hugged her. He lifted her chin and smiled at her warmly before leaving the room. She then turned to her brother. "Well?" Sokka shrugged his shoulders.

"You look nice."

"That's it? That's all you're going to say to me?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Katara. Just try to get through it for dad’s sake. The prince probably won't even pick you; I know I wouldn't," he teased. Katara playfully punched him in the arm and sent him on his way.

"You really do look wonderful, Katara. But this dress would look so much better with your pretty smile," Kanna said, stroking her granddaughter's solemn face.

"I'm scared, gran-gran," Katara said, grabbing the wrinkled hands on her cheeks. "What if Prince Zuko chooses me? I’m not ready to get married, especially to someone I don’t even know!”

Kanna gave her granddaughter a weary smile. "Katara, you're 18 now, and you've already turned down every suitor in the village. Do you plan to become a spinster?" Katara scoffed. "Would that be so bad?" "Come here, dear." Kanna sat down on the bedroll and patted the spot beside her. "I didn't always live here, you know. I was born in a village very far from this one. When I was about your age, my family wanted me to marry someone before I was ready. Do you know what I did?" Katara looked up at the aged woman. "I ran. I left my family and friends behind and never looked back."

Shock colored Katara's face. "…Was it hard?"

"Of course it was. But I feel like I made the right choice when I wake up every day and see each of you."

Katara huffed at her story. “So, what? I should run away if I’m chosen?”

Kanna leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You should do what feels right." The sound of cheering outside heralded the prince’s arrival. "It's time."

Before they left the safety of her bedroom, Katara stopped. "Gran-gran, this man that you were supposed to marry…did you love him?" A look of longing flashed across Kanna's tired eyes, and even though she never answered, Katara knew that what her grandmother had done was not for lack of love.

.::.

The atmosphere was festive outside. The villagers, all dressed in their faded finery, cheered as the royal procession marched towards the center of town, where the women of marrying age stood with their families. While mothers primped their daughters, women too old to marry and lacking daughters to fuss over glared at the ladies, envious of their beauty and prospect.

Katara stood a few feet away from Okala, a girl she used to be friends with when they were little, until her father came into a bit of money and the entire family suddenly thought that they were too good for everyone else. "Now, stand up straight and stick your chest out. Perfect! He'd be a fool not to pick you," her beady-eyed mother said loud enough for the next village to hear. Her haughty attitude set Katara's teeth on edge.

"I know, mother. I mean, just look at the competition," Okala said, shooting Katara a snide look. Katara rolled her eyes and faced forward as the crowd erupted again. She looked up and saw him: Prince Zuko. He raised his hand in greeting as he stepped out of the carriage, eliciting another wave of excitement. Katara had to admit that he was very handsome. He had long, ink-black hair, half of which was pulled up into a topknot decorated with a golden flame, and elegant red robes far more luxurious than anyone in her poor village could ever dream of possessing. When he flashed his royal smile, it seemed as though the world stopped to drink him in.

As he turned, she saw the legendary scar dominating the left side of his face. He’d earned it in the final battle against his father mere minutes before the final blow was struck, or so the story went. He stepped down from his perch on the edge of the palanquin and began to meander through the crowd, stopping to chat with a few women and their families. He was coming closer now. He took notice of Okala, of course, but didn't seem very interested, much to both her and her mother's chagrin. Katara allowed herself a satisfied smirk as she watched their faces fall from vain grins to shocked, affronted sneers.

She snapped herself back to attention as she realized the prince's proximity. He was only a few steps away from her now. The scar looked worse up close, but everything else looked a hundred times better. He had the bright golden eyes of his family's bloodline. She always thought they sounded fascinating, but never did she imagine that they would look so beautiful.

But despite the beauty of those eyes, she felt nothing short of relieved when they barely glossed over her, on to the next girl.

Chapter Text

After a feast held in his honor where several of the more ambitious girls had tried to catch Zuko’s attention to no avail, the prince thanked everyone for their hospitality and announced that he would be leaving the next morning. Katara whistled a happy tune as she finished up her chores for the night, content in her certainty that she would not be getting married any time soon. Though her father seemed to be rather dejected by the prince's lack of attention, she ignored the irritated and cautious looks she was getting from her brother and grandmother, respectively. She refused to keep her spirits low.

She was so happy, in fact, that she decided to treat herself. Katara took some of the money that she’d earned doing laundry for her neighbors and walked under the stars with a spring in her step to her favorite place to eat. It was only a little roadside stall, but the woman's cooking was phenomenal. Katara sat down on one of the stools underneath an oil lamp.

"Hello there, Katara. What'll it be tonight?"

"The usual, please, Matka."

"Candied chestnuts and hot chocolate, coming right up," Matka said with a wink.

Matka was once good friends with Katara’s mother and cared for her like a niece, lacking any children of her own. They chatted about the day’s festivities while Katara waited for her hot chocolate to cool until Matka had to attend to another customer.

"Are those any good?" asked an unfamiliar voice. What a silly question, Katara thought, for surely everyone in the village had tasted Matka's famed chestnuts, and few would question their deliciousness. But once she turned around to see who’d made this absurd remark, it suddenly made sense. Her eyes widened as she stared straight into the face of Prince Zuko. He looked vastly different from that morning, dressed in a simple tunic and loose pants in place of his royal armor. His silky hair hung undone, framing his angular face. She was so stunned that her half-chewed chestnut nearly fell from her slack jaw. If she hadn’t managed to swallow it, it would have landed on his pointed boots.

"Um…yes, th-they're very good." Katara stuttered. She reached around herself, grabbed her bowl, and forced herself to remember how to speak. "You can try one of mine if you'd like." She watched as he carefully selected the smallest chestnut and popped it into his mouth. He nodded in a satisfied manner and sat down next to Katara, his unscarred side facing her.

"Excuse me; I'd like what she's having, please." Matka turned around and almost immediately started backward.

"Oh! Yes, of course, your majesty."

"Here," the prince said sliding a bill across the table that was much too big for the small dessert. "Will this cover it?"

"Oh, no, that won't be necessary."

"I insist. Don’t worry about the change."

"Well, thank you, sir," Matka said graciously. She gave Katara an impressed smile that fairly screamed "talk to him right now" as she turned to make more hot chocolate.

Katara tried to forget the fact that the prince of the Fire Nation was sitting next to her, but truth be told, it was something not easily ignored. Especially when he began to speak to her.

"I'm sorry, I never got your name miss…?"

"Katara."

He smiled lightly. "That's a lovely name."

"Thank you…"

"You're welcome. Oh, and thank you for the…um…"

"They're candied chestnuts." As if on cue, Matka set another bowl of them in front of the prince with a steaming cup of thick hot cocoa. “They’re better if you dip them in the chocolate.” Without hesitation, Zuko dunked a chestnut into the molten liquid. “You should wait for it to—” before Katara could finish, he’d eaten the whole thing. Steam puffed from his mouth like a dragon. “Cool…” she gaped at him as he licked excess chocolate off his fingers, trying to focus on his shocking lack of manners instead of the tilt of his jaw and the way his tongue curled over his lips. "Doesn't that burn?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I’m used to it. My uncle practically drowns me in tea every day."

“What kind of tea?”

“I don’t know. It all tastes like hot leaf juice to me,” he confessed with a heavy roll of his eyes.

“I thought a prince would have a more discerning palette,” Katara replied with mock indignation. He knitted his eyebrows, and she suddenly remembered who she was talking to. “I-I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” She shrank away, fearing retaliation. Even Matka and the other customer were frozen as they waited for their honored guest to react.

Soon, Zuko’s expression softened to a placid smile. “You sound like my uncle.” The Akvoans breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Your uncle must be a smart man,” Katara laughed as she returned to her food. The oil lamp cast a luminous halo around her that made the prince catch his breath. Katara caught him eyeing her incredulously between bites. "Is something wrong?"

He turned away, but not quickly enough to hide the color creeping into his cheek. "Nothing. Sorry." Katara shrugged and returned to her dessert. “This is a bit embarrassing, but I don't recall seeing you earlier today."

She nearly spat out her chocolate-coated chestnut. Why would he bring that up now? "Actually, you walked right passed me.” The sharpness in her voice surprised them both.

"I apologize for that,” Zuko said. “I'm sure that I would've noticed you, except…" he trailed off shyly.

"Except what?" Katara asked, curiosity dampening her irritation.

"It's nothing. I'm just…tired. That's all." While this answer did not satisfy Katara at all, he suddenly appeared distant, so she decided to drop the subject.

"Well, apology accepted.” As a gesture of goodwill, she bowed her head toward him. He in turn spun his stool to face her, joined his hands over his chest in the traditional flame symbol, and hinged at his waist. Perhaps he did have the manners of a prince after all. When he righted himself, his warm eyes locked onto hers. The lantern light brought out every subtle shade of gold. Katara swiftly disregarded the way his gaze made her stomach flutter. "I think I should head home soon; my family will start to worry.” She inhaled her remaining chestnuts and hopped off of her stool. “It was nice meeting you, Prince Zuko."

"Goodnight…Katara." He watched her walk away until her form blended in with the night. He decided it was not a sight he enjoyed.

Chapter Text

Kanna shuffled to the door as a few steady knocks sounded. Her family was still asleep. She briefly wondered who would be here at such an unholy hour, but all thoughts stopped as she opened the door to three soldiers in red armor flanking the prince of the Fire Nation. "Good morning, madam," Zuko said. He took note of the old woman's shocked expression as she clutched the doorknob like a vice. "Is this a bad time? I'd be happy to come back later, if that would be more convenient."

"Uh—no, not at all, Prince Zuko. Please, come in," Kanna said as she regained her wits. She led the men into the small living room. "Would you like to sit down? Can I get you anything?"

Zuko held up his hand. "That won't be necessary; I'll only be a moment. This is where Miss Katara lives, is it not?"

"Yes…she's sleeping right now." A cold feeling began to seep into Kanna's bones.

"Where might I find her father?" Just like that, her heart plummeted to her feet as if it were made of lead.

"I'll go and get him for you." But first, she would wake Katara. She owed her granddaughter that much after sharing what she’d gone through as a girl. Katara deserved the same chance.

But when Hakoda stepped into the hallway, Kanna feared that chance would never come for Katara. “Who’s at the door, mom?”

“It’s…” she swallowed, still struggling to believe what was happening. “It’s Prince Zuko.”

Hakoda’s face lit up. “Is he here about Katara?” The old woman nodded. “Then I’d better not keep him waiting!”

As soon as Hakoda was behind her, Kanna hurried to the room where she and Katara slept. "Katara, Katara, wake up, dear," she whispered urgently. Katara stirred and grumbled a bit until she noticed the sadness in her grandmother's face.

"Gran-gran, what is it?"

Kanna stroked the young woman's face. "I'm so sorry, my love…"

Katara shot upright and took hold of her grandmother's hands. "Gran-gran, tell me what's wrong!" Panic gripped her chest.

"Prince Zuko is here. Your father is talking to him right now—” Kanna couldn’t finish her sentence before her granddaughter sprang out of the bed and ran out of the room.

.::.

Katara ran into the kitchen to find her father and the prince shaking hands. "No!" she shouted. All of the men gaped up at the small woman before them as she brazenly tore her father's hand away from Prince Zuko’s.

"Katara, control yourself!" Hakoda scolded.

She completely ignored the threatening glares from Zuko's entourage as she pleaded with her father. "Dad, please don't make me do this! I'm happy here! Zuko’s a prince, he can find someone else--"

"Katara, you will show respect!" In her haste, she had left off the prince's title. No one in the room seemed very happy about that. "Listen to me right now." Hakoda ran one hand down his face and sighed. "You are beyond marrying age. I’ve indulged you for two years, but soon there won’t be any eligible men left in Akvo. You should feel honored that Prince Zuko is willing to end his search for a bride for you."

"Well, I don't."

Hakoda placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. "I know you may not see it now, but this is a good thing. My decision is final.”

Katara slapped his hand away. “What did he give you? Money? A title? What did it take for you to sell your only daughter?”

“Silence!” Hakoda fumed. Katara staggered back. Her father’s anger was rare, which made it all the more frightening. “Sit down.” Katara obeyed. Hakoda sat across from her and crossed his hands in front of him. “Listen to me. I’ve watched you struggle ever since we lost your mother. You’ve worked your fingers to the bone every day for years. I believe you deserve a softer life than that, but I cannot give you one. As the princess of our nation, you’ll want for nothing. That is what his highness promised me.”

Tears welled in Katara’s eyes. She couldn’t deny that life had been hard since her mother died, but she’d learned to make do. Part of her understood her father’s wish to make things easier for her, but was forcing her into marriage really the way? All her life, she’d listened to the women of Akvo gripe about their lazy, inattentive husbands. Marriage sounded like an even more thankless job than doing chores for Okala’s family.

Sokka and Kanna stumbled into the room looking equally frantic. Katara ran to them, leaving Hakoda hunched sadly in his chair. "Sokka…" She stepped towards her brother with a lost look on her face, and he immediately pulled her into his arms.

"Hey, it's okay, Katara. You won't be gone forever." Still, he held on tightly like he’d never see her again.

"…You wouldn't make me go, would you?" she whispered. She smiled bitterly as she felt him shake his head no before they pulled away from each other.

"Let me know what the food is like in the capital, okay?" Katara nodded and looked to her gran-gran. She was always her support and her wisdom when she was feeling down, but at this moment, when she could see her entire future being robbed from her, Katara wasn’t sure anyone could help her.

"Come on, dear, I'll help you pack," Kanna said as she took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

.::.

"I can't do this, gran-gran. Who does that prince think he is, coming in here and uprooting my life? And I can’t believe dad would just give me away like this! Why won’t either of them listen to me?”

Kanna drew the strings of a small satchel tight. All of Katara's things fit into this simple cloth sack, yet soon she would have it all. The old woman stood motionless for several long moments as her granddaughter roamed the room ranting. When Katara’s voice reached a volume she was sure would be overheard, Kanna caught her slender wrist. The sadness spilling out from the old woman’s eyes quickly quelled the rage built up inside Katara's, leaving only fear. They wrapped their arms around each other and held on as if that could stop what was to come. "I am so sorry, my dearest. But this is the world we live in."

Katara pulled away, betrayal darkening her face. "What about you, gran-gran? When your family wanted you to get married, you ran away. You told me to do what feels right, and now you're saying I should just accept this?"

Kanna sank down to the bedroll. "Perhaps I should tell you the full story." Katara took her place beside her grandmother. "When I was young—much younger than you—I lived in our sister village to the north. My best friend was a boy named Pakku. He and I did everything together, and as we got older, we began to develop feelings for each other. But when my parents told me the news that they had arranged our marriage, I was furious. More than that, I was terrified. But Pakku…he wanted to marry me. In fact, he couldn't wait. He carved me a beautiful betrothal necklace; the same one that you are wearing now, in fact." Katara's hand flew to the necklace at her throat. She always thought that her father had carved it for her mother. "And he was so wonderful to me. Truthfully, I was in love with him. But it was not enough to make me stay and marry him before I was ready to do so. So, I left. And I think I broke both of our hearts that day. I never had the courage to go back and face him.” A lone tear followed the grooves of her time-worn face. “I love all of you, and I’m so grateful for the life we have together. But every day, I miss Pakku as well."

"Gran-gran…"

"No." The old woman took a deep breath to stifle the ghosts of her past. "Katara, if you were being given to any other man, I would tell you to run away and never look back. But these are different circumstances." Her cloudy eyes grew stern. "Our people have been overlooked for far too long. Perhaps this is the world's way of bestowing on you the greatness I've always known that you were destined for. Please…give this a chance. I don't want you to wake up when you're my age and wonder what could have been.” Kanna squeezed Katara’s hands firmly. “And I promise you now that if you still feel the same way by the time a wedding date is set, I will personally go to the capital and get you myself, no matter what anyone says about it. Prince or otherwise."

Katara smiled and embraced her grandmother for what she prayed wouldn’t be the last time. "I love you, gran-gran."

"I love you, too, my little waterbender."

.::.

The news spread like wildfire. When Katara stepped outside with the prince, the entire village was there, cheering, sneering, and gazing in awe. Katara did her best to put on a happy face, smiling mournfully at her friends as she passed them by. She spotted Okala in the crowd with her mother, both seething with rage, and allowed herself a triumphant grin and a showy wave in their direction.

Her brief satisfaction evaporated when she suddenly found herself in front of the palanquin with Zuko holding open the curtain for her to get inside. She couldn’t. Not yet, not without taking one last look at her village, her home, before leaving it all behind for good. Her family stood huddled together in the doorway of their home. Katara choked on her breath as she waved goodbye to them, spreading her arm in a wide semi-circle like a sunset over the ocean. Finally, she willed herself to step onto the platform and sit down. Zuko entered closely behind her and closed the curtain, cutting her off from everything she knew.

They sat in silence, occasionally glancing at each other. Neither really knew what to say. Zuko finally settled on peeking out the curtain to watch the scenery after struggling to look everywhere but at his bride-to-be.

"Please…give this a chance." Gran-gran’s voice had been playing in her head like a mantra since they left Akvo. Katara had indulged many odd requests from her grandmother over the years, but this was her tallest order yet. She sighed heavily. "Hey…um…about this morning…"

"You don't have to apologize," Zuko said, anticipating her words exactly.

Katara bristled. While she had planned to extend an olive branch for gran-gran’s sake, hearing his raspy voice for the first time since last night suddenly made everything real. “I don’t think I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Zuko raised his single eyebrow at her. With his scarred eye nearly sealed shut, she couldn’t tell if his expression was one of curiosity or skepticism. “You don’t?”

“No, I don’t!” she snapped. “I think my reaction was perfectly fair considering you basically abducted me!”

“That’s what you think this is?” He snarled. Whatever kindness he showed her last night was absent from his expression now.

She glared right back at him. “What else would you call it? A transaction?”

“No!”

“Then what?”

"I don't need to explain myself to you." He glared at her fiercely, beginning to wonder if he should leave her and her little village behind after all.

"Oh, you don’t? Considering you just took me from my home, my family, and everything that I love, I think an explanation is the least you owe me,” she seethed.

He groaned quietly. She had a point. “I…I don’t know what to call this,” he admitted.

Katara eyed him cautiously. It seemed his mood could shift like the wind. “Why me?” she asked.

“I just…” he paused, his face contorting through emotions as he searched for the right words. “I thought you had potential,” he settled. His eyes seemed earnest, but his words made no sense.

“What the hell does that mean?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “I enjoyed talking to you last night and…I didn't like the feeling I got when you left. There. Are you happy?"

Katara’s mind tripped over his answer. She expected him to tell her that he was a prince, and he could take whatever he wanted—that would have suited the leader of the Fire Nation armies. While their brief time together was enjoyable, she had intentionally avoided thinking about it for the remainder of that night. It seemed his mind had taken an entirely different course. A soft "…Oh," was all she could manage in response before gathering her wits. "…And that's enough of a reason to marry someone?"

Zuko sighed and looked up at her. "After wandering the country for weeks in search of love at first sight, it was more than enough." There was a long silence between them. "…I'm sorry. You're right; this isn't the right way to do this." He dragged his hand down his face. "If you want, I'll order the carriage to turn around and take you home right now."

Give this a chance…

.::.

They arrived in Caldera after a three-day boat ride, where Katara experienced seasickness for the first time in her life. She and Zuko hadn't spoken much since the first day of travel. When they arrived at the royal palace, there was a huge crowd waiting. Pale faces above a sea of red peered into the carriage. How would they react to a brown woman dressed in blue?

Zuko stepped outside first, and his subjects cheered wildly. They really seemed to love him as much as the stories said. He reached through the curtain and beckoned Katara, who had her back pressed tightly against one of the support poles. Zuko extended his hand further and opened the curtain just wide enough to give her a reassuring smile. At least, an approximation of one. As the crowd noise began to descend into murmurs of confusion, she knew her time was up.

The moment she appeared in the light of the afternoon sun, a wave of gasps went through the crowd. They whispered amongst themselves as she stepped down carrying her sack and hiking up her blue dress so that she would not trip over it on the steps. Their expressions ranged from confusion to disgust to amazement. Katara presumed that most of these people were fairly well off, unlike her, and had never visited the colonies. She was exotic, a foreign species to be observed and wondered at. Not to mention so obviously poor in her nicest dress that looked like an old tablecloth compared to their finery. She felt Zuko squeeze her hand and realized that neither of them had let go after she was safely on the ground. Now, in this new world, she found that the last thing she wanted was to lose her grip on his warm, steady hand. She squeezed back, and they walked down the aisle hand-in-hand with plaster smiles. Eventually, the cheers began again, but they were not nearly as emphatic as they had been upon their arrival.

To say that Katara was relieved to finally be inside the palace would be a severe understatement. She leaned against the heavy doors, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. “Are you okay?”

‘Do I look fucking okay?!’ Katara wanted to shout, but the genuine remorse in Zuko’s eyes dulled her anger. “I want to go to bed,” she gritted out.

Zuko nodded. The sun was still up, but he would not deny her wish. "Come with me, I'll show you your room."

Their footsteps echoed down the vast hallways. Portraits of kings past glared down at the strange woman in their midst from giant floor-to-ceiling scrolls. Katara saw no depictions of their wives.

They finally arrived at a door edged with gold filigree at the end of a long corridor. Zuko opened it and showed her into the luxurious bedroom. The furniture was carved from fine, dark red wood and trimmed in gold. There was a plush lounge chair with luxurious black upholstery, a fireplace, an intricately carved wardrobe, a vanity, and a sliding door open just enough to let the scent of flowers waft in from the garden. An enormous canopy bed with more pillows than Katara could count dominated the center of the room. A thought suddenly struck her, and her face fell. "Zuko, is this…your room?"

The prince looked at her quizzically. “Wha—” he began to clarify. Suddenly her meaning dawned on him and filled him with a startling mixture of excitement and shame. “Oh—no, my room is next door. You can actually get there from the garden or through here." He gestured at a plain door in the corner of the room. "This one is just for you." Katara was glad to know that she would still maintain some privacy—at least for a while.

Awkward silence dragged on as Katara waited for Zuko to leave and Zuko tried to find the right parting words. “Do you like food?” Of course she did. Why would he say that? “I mean—are you hungry?”

“Not really.” She was starving, but she needed to be alone more than she needed to eat.

“I’ll let you rest, then. Someone will bring you dinner in a few hours. I’ll be next door if you need anything.” Katara gave a small nod in response. Taking her silence as his cue to leave, Zuko headed for the door but stopped when he grabbed the handle. “Katara, I…” Their eyes met, though she could barely see his through the tears welling in her own. He had to look away. Unfortunately, the carpet did not inspire any profound words of kindness or comfort. Eventually, he settled on, “Welcome to the palace.”

Alone for the first time since leaving her village, Katara clutched her little satchel to her chest and crumpled to the floor in tears.

Chapter Text

She could have left. She should have left. Katara scrutinized that moment in the palanquin incessantly on her first night in the palace. Zuko looked ashamed when he said he would tell his men to return to Akvo, but it wasn’t sympathy for him that made her stay. “Our people have been overlooked for far too long.” Katara had never seen her grandmother look so determined before. It was no secret that the further you lived from the Fire Nation capital, the more you were looked down on. That had been the case for decades and only worsened during Ozai’s reign. Zuko was a symbol of change, of hope for those left bleeding from his father’s war. If Katara could fill the role of Fire Lady, perhaps she could be part of that vision. She had to try. But that didn’t ease the loneliness of the empty bedroom twice the size of her hut.

.::.

The next morning, Katara ignored the soft knock on her door the first, second, and third time it sounded. On the fourth, she accepted that whoever was there was not going away and dragged herself to the door. “Good morning, my lady. I apologize for waking you.” A meek young woman bowed deeply before her. This wouldn’t be an easy sight to get used to.

“It’s alright. What’s your name?” Her voice was still hoarse from a night of many tears and little sleep.

The girl answered with her body still bent. “Rin, my lady.”

Katara’s gut twisted. “Stand up, please. You don’t have to bow to me.”

Rin stood, but kept her head lowered. “As you wish, my lady.”

“Just Katara is fine.” Being addressed so formally didn’t feel right. In another life, one that felt far more plausible than the one she was living, Katara may have been in Rin’s position.

“Ka—” Rin winced as though saying the island name pained her. “Lady Katara,” close enough, “I’m here to help you get ready for the day ahead.”

Katara bit back her impulse to send Rin away and stepped aside to let her in. Rin shuffled to the bathroom and began filling the tub. As the water ran, Katara busied herself picking up the pile of pillows that had fallen off the bed overnight. Why were there so many? She only had one head. Just as Katara finished arranging them, Rin snuck up behind her. “Your bath is ready, Lady Katara. Would you like me to wash your hair?”

“No!” Katara yelped. Rin’s eyes widened with panic. “No, thank you,” she corrected. Whatever that poor girl had been put through had clearly left her skittish. Despite her frustration, Katara told herself to approach Rin with care.

She allowed herself to luxuriate in her bath. The hot water was scented with rose oil and topped with pink flower petals. Sunbeams peeked through the half-open blinds and made the water’s surface sparkle like crystals. Back in Akvo, she usually had to bathe quickly to get to work and let her family use the washtub. Maybe palace life wouldn’t be completely unbearable.

Once she was finished, Katara wrapped her hair in a towel, put on a light silk robe, and went back to the bedroom where Rin waited by the vanity holding a brush in her trembling hands. “Shall I style your hair?” she mumbled. Katara inspected the brush Rin was holding. Its soft bristles would only leave her wavy hair dry and frizzy. Still, she didn’t want to scare Rin any further, so she retrieved her satchel and pulled out a wide-toothed comb made from sturdy, shining wood.

“Here, use this,” she directed as she sat at the vanity. Rin carefully unwrapped the towel around Katara’s head; the wet tresses fell across her back with a cold slap. The servant picked up a small section of hair and began to comb it from tip to root. Katara’s chest hurt at the sight of Rin’s downcast expression in the mirror. “I’m sorry if I scared you before,” she tried.

“No, no no,” Rin stammered, “I’m sorry for being pushy.”

“It’s okay. I’m just not used to being waited on like this.”

Rin’s eyes met Katara’s for the first time in the mirror. “But you’re a noble, aren’t you?”

“A noble?” Katara guffawed. “Hardly. I grew up doing laundry for people in my village.”

“But then—” Rin’s panicked expression returned as she cut herself off.

“Then what am I doing here?” Katara finished. Rin stalled, petrified that she’d overstepped despite not saying a word. “Your guess is as good as mine.” After a few moments of stiff silence, Rin resumed her efforts with the comb. Once Katara’s hair was detangled, she retrieved a jar of coconut oil from her bag. Rin took note of Katara’s technique as she applied it: run the oil-coated fingers through the hair to coat the strands, then scrunch the hair to encourage curl.

Rin directed Katara to a screen in the corner with undergarments and a dark red dress slung over the top. Katara struggled a bit with the strappy underthings and nearly toppled over when the dress fell on her shoulders. She didn’t know clothes could be this heavy. When she emerged, Rin was bowing and holding out a gold sash. “Please raise your arms, my lady,” she requested, now fully reverted to her deferential attitude. Katara did as asked and allowed Rin to tie the sash around her waist. Now fully dressed, Katara caught her reflection in the mirror and froze. The woman looking back at her was beautiful and strange like an exotic bird, the kind that you’d only find deep in the wilds or in a wealthy collector’s garden.

“L-Lady Katara?” Rin stammered. Katara tore her eyes from the vanity. “You’re…you’re very pretty.” Katara met the compliment with a halfhearted smile. “Thanks for your help, Rin.” The servant smiled shyly, bowed, and scurried out the door. Two old women appeared in her place before Katara had a moment to breathe.

.::.

Lo and Li were strange women, to say the least. They had one face, one voice, and seemingly one mind, for as one left off in the middle of a sentence, the other would pick up immediately. If you closed your eyes, you would never know that there were two of them until they spoke in unison.

After retrieving her from her room, they had taken her to the library to begin lessons meant to prepare her for the demands of royal life. For hours, it was study, practice, speak, eat, breathe the life of a Fire Lady. Alread,y Katara was sick of it. When she finally had a break, she took to roaming the palace for the first time since she arrived. It was bigger than she’d ever imagined. What could anyone possibly need with all this space? The only use she cared about now was finding some place so remote that Lo and Li couldn't find her.

She opened door after door leading to grand sitting rooms, pristine bathrooms, lavish bedrooms, all of them coated in red, black, and gold. She found the dining hall, the kitchen, and a small, quiet study at the end of a winding hallway. Perfect. Katara gently closed the door behind her and leaned her forehead against the cold wood, hoping this room would do as a hiding place. It was only when she heard a raspy voice question, "Who is it?" that she realized she wasn’t alone.

Zuko looked up from his work and started at the sight before him. He blinked a few times, struggling to recognize her. "I'm sorry, I should've knocked. I'll just…" Katara trailed off as she opened the door.

"No, wait," Zuko said, stepping out from behind his desk. "It's alright—I wasn't busy," he lied.

"Oh. Alright, then." Katara fidgeted uncomfortably as he stared at her. Her wavy brown hair hung down to her hips. The braid she’d worn until now belied just how much there was. And the dress…she looked very good in red. Blue suited her better, he thought, but it was painfully close. The only blue that remained aside from her bright eyes was the pendant at her throat. “What?” she grumbled, frowning at his scrutiny.

Zuko swallowed to remember how to speak. "Red looks good on you,” he praised. Katara winced. His compliment only made her feel more out of place. More trapped. She played with the cuff of her sleeve, unsure how to respond. Sensing her discomfort, Zuko tried again. “How has your first day been?" He had the urge to reach out and still her nervous hand.

“Long,” Katara deadpanned. Before Zuko could respond, two sets of shuffling footsteps came darting down the hall. "Oh no," she muttered. Katara retreated into the room to find a hiding spot, but it was too late. Lo and Li pushed passed a stunned Zuko and into the study.

"There you are, Lady Katara!"

"We have been searching for you."

"Come, it is time to resume your lessons." They reached for her wrists, but Katara stayed rooted.

“But…I…” She looked back at Zuko as if to say, "help!” as she fumbled for an excuse. He opened his mouth to say something when another elderly voice chimed in. "I think Lady Katara has had enough for today."

Lo and Li let go of her. Their hands retreated into their wide sleeves as they bowed. "Very well, Lord Iroh," they said in unison before finally leaving. Katara turned around to see a short, portly old man looking at her with the kindest smile she'd ever seen. She couldn't help but smile back. "You must be the beautiful young lady my nephew has told me so much about."

"Uncle!" Zuko scolded.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you," Iroh said, ignoring his blushing nephew. He took her hand and bowed briefly.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I hear you really enjoy tea." She glanced at the prince and saw him pinch the bridge of his nose again. She smirked, slightly satisfied to have gotten under his skin.

Iroh let out a warm, hearty laugh. "Yes, yes, I do. Why don't we all go have some?" This was less of an offer than it was a statement, as he promptly led them both toward his favorite room: the one kept specifically for having tea with family and guests.

.::.

After her second cup of tea and a story about Zuko accidentally setting a badgerfrog loose in the kitchen, Katara found herself in much higher spirits. Zuko, on the other hand, was beet red and looked ready to jump off a bridge. She enjoyed listening to Iroh and learning more about Zuko, both through his uncle's stories and his reactions to them.

"Don't you have anything better to do than tell embarrassing stories about me, Uncle?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Not at all, Prince Zuko," Iroh replied cheerfully. He took another sip of his tea. "So, Lady Katara,” Iroh insisted on using her new title as a show of respect as he did for his nephew, “please, tell me about yourself. I'm sure if I say any more about my nephew, he may leave and never come back."

Zuko scowled, and Katara laughed. "Perhaps some other time," she said with a wink. She thought about what to tell him. There was the obvious, of course; she lived in Akvo with her father, grandmother, and brother. She started there and before she knew it, she was rattling off stories about Sokka getting fishhooks stuck in his thumb, her gran-gran's carefully knitted clothes and blankets, her father struggling to braid her hair after her mother…. The smile dissolved from Katara’s face as she forced herself not to mention her, not to relive those memories.

"Is something wrong?" Iroh asked.

Katara looked up to see both he and Zuko looking at her with concern. She smiled softly. "No, I'm fine.” The men were not convinced. Not wanting to end the surprisingly pleasant afternoon on a sour note, she decided to share one more thing about herself. “I’d like to show you something.” Katara breathed deeply and lifted her hand. As she twirled her index finger, hot tea flowed forth from the spout of the porcelain teapot.

Both men gazed at the dancing liquid before them. Katara spread her fingers apart, separating the strand of tea into three and refilling their cups. She smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her face as they clapped. "Prince Zuko did not mention that you were a waterbender," Iroh gaped.

"Well…he didn't know," Katara admitted. Zuko’s awe turned to guilt the moment her eyes met his.

Iroh grew serious as he leaned into Katara’s space. "The bending of the elements is an incredibly rare and precious gift. Many believe that it will completely vanish from the world in a matter of decades. Cherish it, Lady Katara."

"I do." Iroh stood with his tea and proclaimed that he would now retire as it was getting late. When he suggested that Zuko escort Katara back to her room, she tried to say that it was alright, but he insisted on behalf of his nephew and left the room.

“Thank Agni that’s over.” Zuko sighed heavily and buried his head in his hands.

Somehow, his embarrassment throughout the evening made it easier for Katara to relax. "Your uncle is fun," she teased. Maybe she just liked to see him squirm.

"He’s something, alright," Zuko grumbled. He stood up from the floor cushion and offered his hand to Katara. Uncle had insisted he escort her, after all. To his surprise, she actually took it and allowed him to help her up. Her hand was cold, sturdy, and separated from his entirely too quickly.

They walked back to the royal chambers in a reasonably comfortable silence. “Well, goodnight,” Katara said once they reached her room. Just before she closed the door, Zuko stopped it with his foot. “What are you—"

"Wait,” he said, “there’s something I’d like to tell you first. May I?" After a moment of hesitation, Katara reopened the door. Zuko lifted his hand and summoned a small flame with a twirl of his wrist. He gave her a sly smile through the flickering flame.

"You're a firebender?" she gasped.

"It runs in my family.” Katara noticed he turned his scarred cheek away when he answered.

"…I've never met another bender before," she confessed.

Zuko's eyes widened. "Really?"

"I was the first bender born in Akvo in 100 years." While the prevalence of bending abilities had steadily dwindled in the last two or three generations, it was extremely rare for one to be born into a family of non-benders.

Zuko was speechless as he gazed at this woman who grew more fascinating each minute, giving him more and more reasons to hate himself for taking her from where she belonged. He extinguished his flame and let his eyes adjust to the dim evening glow surrounding them. "I…enjoyed talking to you tonight.”

“Your uncle did the talking, if memory serves,” she smirked. Zuko shifted his weight awkwardly. It was delightfully easy to bother him. But perhaps, between her and Iroh, he’d been bothered enough for one night. “I wouldn’t mind talking to you more.”

Zuko’s eyes snapped to hers, and suddenly they were back under the oil lamps at Matka’s stall. “I’d lo—I mean, yes. We should do that,” he stammered.

“Okay, then,” Katara snickered. "Well, goodnight, um..." The last time she neglected his title was just before she left Akvo, and she realized she hadn’t addressed him since.

“Just call me Zuko, please.” Evidently, he’d read her mind.

“Okay. Goodnight, Zuko,” she smiled.

"Goodnight, Katara." Her name falling unburdened from his lips almost made her feel at home.

.::.

Her spine unfurled as she slipped out of the heavy dress. As she looked at the red puddle, the day’s events replayed in her mind. Just this morning, she’d dreaded the idea of being waited on by a handmaiden, but by the end of the night, she was laughing over tea with the acting Fire Lord. Was she really so easily swayed by kindness and luxury?

Then there was Zuko. She thought of the charming prince that he presented to adoring crowds and the temperamental man that he revealed behind closed doors. Her mind wandered to his scowl, his smile, his golden eyes sparkling in the fire he’d held between them… There might be worse things than getting close to him—for the good of the Fire Nation, of course.

Yes, Katara thought, all of this was to make life better for Akvo and the countless other villages that suffered during the civil war. She could not let herself get so swept up in the comforts of royalty that she forgot that goal. No matter how tempting he—they may be.

Chapter Text

After her morning lessons, Katara needed to practice her bending. In Akvo, she would go to the beach where all the water in the world was hers to play with. The best she could do here in the palace was splash around in her bathtub. Katara feared her bending would atrophy if she couldn’t practice properly. She sighed heavily on her way back to her room. “Good morning, Lady Katara,” Iroh said cheerily. Katara jumped at his greeting.

“G-good morning,” she stuttered.

Iroh bowed. “Forgive me, I did not mean to sneak up on you. How are you settling in?”

Katara shrugged. “Well enough, I guess, although…” She chewed her bottom lip, debating whether to share her dilemma. Iroh already knew she was a bender, so what was the harm? “I’ve been having trouble practicing my bending. Teapots aren’t exactly brimming with possibilities, no offense.”

“Perhaps not for a waterbender,” Iroh chortled. “Have you visited the turtleduck pond yet?”

Katara’s eyes widened. “No, I haven’t!”

“You will find it in the garden at the end of this hallway,” he gestured to the corridor he’d just walked down. “I am sure the turtleducks would not mind sharing their home with you.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Katara said. Iroh wished her well and went on his way with a spring in his step and a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

.::.

The courtyard was occupied by more than turtleducks when Katara arrived: Zuko sat beneath the tree by the pond playing a horn instrument. Its warm tone was a perfect accompaniment to the balmy spring day. Katara walked towards him ever so quietly, not wanting to startle him lest he stop playing, and leaned against the opposite side of the tree. The melody was wistful, almost haunting, but lovely all the same. She closed her eyes as the slow tempo made her sway in time with him. Each crescendo made her shudder. Before she knew it, she was humming along with the tune, and—

"Katara?!" She winced at the sound of her name and slowly peeked around the tree. Zuko stared up at her, his face bright red and eyes glowing with anger as he clutched the instrument tightly.

Katara forced a shaky smile. “Hi there. Nice day, isn’t it?”

The prince did not seem to agree. "What are you doing out here?"

"I wasn’t spying!” she blurted out, answering a question she wasn’t asked. “I just—I was looking for a place to practice my bending and your uncle--"

Zuko deflated. "My uncle. Say no more." He placed two fingers to his throbbing temple.

"…Can I sit down?" Katara asked. He nodded.

"I'm sorry about that. I just really don't like playing in front of people."

"I suppose turtleducks would be much kinder critics," she teased. When Zuko continued pouting, she decided to try a different approach. "You’re really good," she said.

His grip on the horn loosened a bit. "Thanks."

"Does that song have any words?"

He looked up at the waterbender. Her big, blue eyes shone earnestly. It was the first time she’d seemed excited since she arrived here. How could he resist? “Don’t laugh at my singing.” He cleared his throat and shut his eyes.

"Winter, spring,
Summer and fall,
Winter, spring,
Summer and fall,
Four seasons,
Four loves,
Four seasons,
Four loves…"

Katara stared at him, breathless. His raspy voice crested over each note like waves gently lapping at her feet. "I told you, I'm a terrible singer," he said, taking her silence as an attempt to hold back laughter.

"That's not what I was thinking at all…" He raised his eyebrow in disbelief. "Play it again," she urged. When he did, she sang the words back to him once, twice, her high lilting tones blending with his low, dulcet ones, until they finished with a long, soft note.

Zuko moved his lips away from the instrument. They were slightly swollen, Katara noticed. He must have been playing for a long time. “You’re amazing,” he sighed. His half-lidded eyes were fixed on her face as though he’d been hypnotized. Katara stared back at him, wide-eyed and frozen. The red tint dusting her cheeks broke Zuko out of his trance. "I mean, your singing. Your voice is amazing,” he corrected.

She smiled shyly. "I used to sing with my mother all the time." Her smile faltered, Zuko noticed.

Without thinking, he offered a similar story. “I used to play the tsungi horn for mine.” In this very spot, he thought.

Katara worried her lip as she searched for a way to steer the conversation away from the topic of mothers, though she vaguely wondered why she hadn’t met Zuko’s yet. She feared that she and the prince might be more alike than she thought.

"Do you think you could teach me to play it?" she blurted out.

“Seriously?" Zuko asked incredulously. Katara nodded even as she mentally kicked herself for asking. "Have you ever played an instrument before?"

"Well, no. But why not start?"

He thought for a moment, then gave her a half smile. "Alright, hold on." He carefully lifted the horn over his head raised it above hers. It suddenly looked very ominous looming over her, she thought. Katara felt it press her hair into the back of her neck as Zuko lowered it around her. "Put one hand here and one in the bell."

"The what?"

"The big end where the sound comes out. You use your hand to help change the note that you're playing." Katara tried to follow his instructions, but her hold on the unwieldy instrument was clumsy. "Here, let me show you." Zuko positioned her hand inside the instrument first. His fingers were warm and shockingly calloused for a pampered prince as he steadily guided her hand into place. Katara began to shift as supporting the instrument became more uncomfortable. "Don't move, just wait." Katara’s breath hitched as he took her other hand and slowly slid it along the body of the instrument until she was holding it near the bottom. "You want to hold it here so that it rests in the crook of your elbow like this. Got it?" Zuko looked up at her stunned face and realized their proximity, the softness of her hand, the color in her cheeks… He moved away quickly and cleared his throat. "Now blow into it," he said. Katara did, but the sound of her breath pushing through the brass walls was the only noise she could make. "No, not like that. You have to hold your lips like this," Zuko said, forming the appropriate shape with his own mouth. Katara tried again and succeeded in getting something more than breath out of the instrument, but it was still airy. She tried again, and again, her tone varying each time but never achieving the rich tone of a true note.

Tired of watching her struggle, Zuko leaned forward and lifted her chin. Her big eyes widened, their sparkling clarity rivaling the pond lapping beside them. "You're almost there," his voice was low now. She felt his fingers work gingerly at the corners of her mouth. He could feel her hot breath coming out in quick puffs as he touched her. He swallowed hard, trying to remain focused on the task at hand: showing her what to do with her mouth. He traced an unhurried circle around her lips—strictly to assess her positioning—and decided he was satisfied.

Her skin tingled as he toyed with her lips. It was a shock to her system when Zuko suddenly pulled away. He tucked his arms close to him, suddenly shy. "Now hold your lips tight and try again," he mumbled. Katara shook free of her stupor but kept her eyes on Zuko. His throat bobbed as he watched her press her pursed lips against the mouthpiece, and her tingling skin began to burn. She closed her eyes to avoid any further distractions. This time, when she blew into the instrument, a definite tone rang out. Her tension dissolved as glee overtook her. “I did it!” she beamed.

Zuko smirked. "Very good."

“You’re a great teacher,” Katara responded.

“I’ll give you another lesson any time,” he offered too eagerly. “If you’re interested,” he added.

Katara deflated. “I’ll probably be too busy with my other lessons.”

Other lessons. Right. Katara had to learn the ways of high society if she was to become Fire Lady. Yet another thing a woman of noble birth wouldn’t have had to deal with if he’d chosen one of the women presented to him by his advisory council. Selfishly, Zuko was thrilled to be sharing this moment with Katara instead. "Would you like to hear another song?" he asked.

Katara nodded brightly. Zuko helped her lift the tsungi horn from around her neck and returned it to its perch around his own. To Katara’s pleasant surprise, he closed his eyes and began to sing.

"Leaves from the vine
Falling so slow
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam
Little soldier boy
Come marching home
Brave soldier boy
Come marching home…"

He gripped the mouthpiece between his lips and began to play the song's bittersweet melody. Katara was so lost in the music that she barely noticed when he faded the song into another, this one mysterious and lonely. She lay down in the grass and closed her eyes, just listening to the sound of the turtleducks harmonizing with Zuko's playing. Whether she stayed in the palace or chose to return to Akvo in the end, Katara was grateful for this moment.

Chapter Text

As soon as the servant left with Zuko’s note, he shut his office door and groaned. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Katara in the week since their serendipitous afternoon by the pond. He still wasn’t sure whether to damn his uncle or thank him for sending her there.

Her softness was etched into his brain—her soft singing, soft hair, soft skin. There was so much more to her though; she had a strong will which he admired, and a sharp tongue that he hoped to avoid another lashing from any time soon. A different kind of tongue lashing, however…

Zuko smacked his forehead. As appealing as those thoughts were, he couldn’t afford to get caught up in them. He hadn’t forgotten that she wanted to go home. Frankly he still hadn’t recovered from the shock that she declined his offer to leave her in Akvo. Tonight, he would show her that he wanted her to stay. If things went well, then maybe… His mind began to wander down a dangerous, delicious path again. These fantasies had plagued him for days despite his repeated efforts to ignore them. Perhaps the best way to quiet them would be to act. ‘Agni, forgive me.’

The prince locked his door and sat down at his desk. He could feel himself growing as he reached into his robes, the dam on his indecent thoughts beginning to crack. His hard cock sprang up as soon as he pulled down his pants, begging for relief. He gripped it firmly, the dam exploded, and the waterbender came flooding in.

She looked perfect laying across his red silk sheets. The warm lamp light painted her brown skin sunset orange, highlighting every soft curve, deepening every inviting shadow. He crawled over her like the animal she made him want to be, and she opened herself for him in turn. His cock jumped as he stroked. Heat swelled between them as they kissed, warm and wet and desperate as teeth and tongues and hands wandered over each other. She moaned as sweetly as she sang, he imagined, and he ached to hear her beg in that beautiful voice. He slid his tongue down her neck, her sternum, over her swollen nipple, taking a break here to suck and relish in the sting of her nails digging into his shoulders. He swirled slick precum over his sensitive head. Her rolling hips coaxed him lower, and he followed their hypnotic will. He peeked at her over her mound of wet curls, watching her feverish expression turn frenzied as his warm breath caressed her dripping center. “Please, Zuko. Please,” she whined.

That pushed him over the edge. He came all over his toned stomach and snapped back to reality. Despite the much-needed physical release, he was left frustrated that his cock couldn’t hold out long enough to let him imagine how she would have tasted. He hoped he’d have more endurance should he be lucky enough to experience the real thing one day. She deserved his best.

.::.

Katara thanked the servant who delivered her a rolled parchment tied with a gold ribbon.

Dinner tonight. East courtyard. -Zuko

You would never guess he was a prince from the unceremonious way he summoned her. Regardless, it was a curious invitation. They ate dinner together most nights, which mainly consisted of them looking awkwardly at each other while Iroh prattled on about the nuances of pai sho or the benefits of various teas. For a couple of days after their duet at the turtleduck pond conversation between them flowed easily, but once they’d exhausted the topic of music, the stiff silence had resumed. Part of her hoped that tonight would be so uncomfortable that she would be able to finally shed the guilt that crept over her every time she thought of going home. Although, the few moments they’d shared alone had thus far been the most interesting. Maybe tonight would be nice. Maybe she wanted it to be.

.::.

Heavy pulsing sounds reverberated through the library, thoroughly breaking Katara's concentration on her lessons. “What’s that?” she asked.

Lo (or Li) answered, “It seems Prince Zuko is practicing his bending today.” Katara’s interest piqued.

“I’ll be right back.” She ignored the twins’ calls as she bolted out of the room. Katara buzzed with excitement as she followed the pulse to the back of the palace. She’d never seen a master bender in action before! Even if Zuko was a firebender, maybe she could still learn something from him.

.::.
She would never deny that Zuko was attractive, but watching him bend made it impossible to ignore just how beautiful he was. The prince floated over the smooth stone training ground as he practiced. From deep squats to powerful punches to overhead kicks, his movements were precise, elegant, and shockingly flexible. The sweat dripping down his muscled body made him glow in the light of every fire blast. How he could firebend when it was this hot—and look so hot doing it—was beyond Katara. Heat spread through her body, pooling in her cheeks and the pit of her stomach like she was bending to his will. How would he make her bend, she wondered...

For a split second their eyes met as Zuko went for another flying kick. That brief loss of focus sent him falling straight onto his back. His head made a loud crack against the stone as he groaned in pain. “Zuko!” Katara shouted. She ran towards him without thinking. “Are you okay?”

Zuko’s vision swam as he pried his eyes open. Two or three Kataras gradually merged into one woman kneeling close to him, haloed by the sun. “Hi,” he wheezed.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you hurt?” Katara sputtered.

“I’m okay.” Zuko slowly pushed himself up and Katara gasped. “What is it?”

“You’re bleeding,” Katara said. A red splotch of blood stained the white stone where his head landed. There were a few cuts across his back, too. “Do you have water?” Zuko pointed to a flask and a towel sitting on the steps where she’d come in. She rushed to retrieve them, squatted behind him, and got to work. “This might sting a little,” she warned.

Zuko’s head thrummed as a cool, soft touch cradled the back of his head. His wound tingled, then stung, then faded to nothing. He touched the back of his head and found it perfectly in tact. “What just happened?”

Bloody water sloughed off Katara’s hand. “I healed you. Well, mostly. It’s not exactly my strong suit.”

“You can do that?” Zuko marveled.

“I read an old book about it back in Akvo. I’ve pretty much gotten the hang of cuts and bruises. Speaking of which, your back is a little torn up. Hold still.” Katara set to work closing the cuts and searching for internal injuries that might need a proper docor. His muscles tensed under her attentive hands. “Does it hurt?”

“N-no,” Zuko winced. Katara saw him grab the towel and hold it over his lap. She lazily moved her hands up and down his back a few more times once she’d healed the wounds she’d inadvertently caused (just to make sure she’d gotten them all, obviously).

“All better,” she smiled. She stood up and offered her hand to help Zuko to his feet. He took it but stood up without pulling her at all. Neither of them let go once he was upright.

“Thank you, Katara.” His voice was almost as soft as the smile playing on his lips as he gently squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back. “No problem. Sorry again for distracting you.”

“It’s my fault for losing focus.” Zuko cast her a sidelong glance. “Did you…like what you saw?”

Her eyes roved up his body. His pants hung low and inviting at his hips. His shoulders and chest, still heaving as he caught his breath, were dusted pink from the sun. Ink black strands clung to his neck and his golden eyes seemed impossibly bright. Perhaps his bending practice had invigorated him. Seeing Zuko like this—hot, sweaty, and energized—was certainly invigorating something in Katara. “You look good. LOOKED good. Your bending looked good,” she squeaked.

Zuko smiled like he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. “Will I see you tonight?” His raspy voice laden with intent and the grip he maintained on her hand compelled Katara to nod. “Until later, then.” He gave a low, sweeping bow and kissed her knuckles. His soft lips left Katara wanting as he hurried back into the palace.

.::.

Zuko’s leg threatened to knock over the place settings as it bounced under the table. After his earlier…escapade…he’d spent most of the day training, trying to work out his excess energy. It might have worked had Katara not appeared. The way she continued rubbing his back long after the pain had faded… He couldn’t stop replaying that moment. He was well aware of what he wanted, but Katara’s careful touch made him wonder if she wanted more, too. Maybe that was what made him bold enough to kiss her hand. He longed to kiss her—no! No way he could start thinking about that again, not with Katara (hopefully) arriving soon. He looked toward the sliding door for the hundredth time, but it remained shut. Had she been to this courtyard before? Did she know how to find it? ‘Shit. Probably not.’

Just as he was about to curse his incompetence, the door slid open. Katara emerged wearing a sleeveless top and a long skirt. Her partially bared midriff made him want to jump in the fountain to cool off.

Zuko stood the moment she entered the courtyard. The first oddity Katara noticed was his smile. It wasn’t exactly forced, but it didn’t quite look natural either. Was he nervous? The second was the smell in the air. As she approached the table, a sharp, salty aroma wafted towards her like a foggy memory.

“Thank you for coming,” Zuko said. There was a slight tremor in his voice.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long. I got lost,” she confessed. Zuko furrowed his brow mumbled something to himself. “What was that?”

“Nothing. You’re right on time,” he assured her. “Please, sit.” He pulled out a chair and slid it underneath Katara as she sat at the candlelit table set for two.

So far, she had to admit, she was impressed. “What’s with the gentlemanly routine all of a sudden?” she teased.

Zuko sat down and smirked at her from across the table. “I am a prince, I’ll have you know.”

“You don’t say! Tell me more.” She put her her elbow on the table and leaned across it with exaggerated interest.

“Actually, tonight I was hoping to talk about you.” Before Katara could ask what he meant, he pulled the lid off the tray between them, revealing ocean cumquat stew. When they served this in the palace, Katara had remarked that they were similar to an Akvoan dish. “You said these reminded you of stewed sea prunes, right?”

Katara was dumbfounded. “You remembered?”

Zuko nodded. “I’d be more than happy to have the chefs prepare this for you whenever you like,” he offered.

“That would be…amazing.” Her mind went back to the look on his face after she sang at the turtle duck pond. ‘You’re amazing.’ For the first time since she left home, her smile came from her heart. “Thank you, Zuko.”

His eyes shone like suns when he smiled at her. She let herself bask in their glow. “Let's dig in, then,” Zuko pointed out. He passed her one of the bowls and placed the other one on his plate. Katara was astounded as he eagerly slurped up the broth. “What?” he asked.

Katara snickered, then burst into a helpless fit of giggles. “I’ve been learning proper table manners for a month and here you are, a prince, eating like my caveman brother!”

Zuko flushed. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten much today…” He’d been too nervous to have breakfast or lunch.

“It’s fine,” she gasped as she caught her breath. “I’m glad you like them so much. Most mainlanders can’t stand sea prunes.”

“I have exotic tastes,” he smirked. Katara, however, glared at him so coldly that their stew began to freeze over. Horror sank into Zuko’s bones as he realized what he’d said. “That came out very, very wrong.”

Chapter Text

“Exotic?” Vitriol dripped from every syllable as Katara repeated that cursed word. She felt it crawl over her skin with every sideways glance from members of the royal court and every word whispered by the servants behind her back. Hearing it from Zuko, the one person in this place she believed could see her for her, brought back the darkest days of the civil war.

“The girls here look so exotic compared to the ones back home.” “I hear their fruit tastes sweeter, too.”

She could still hear the soldiers’ vile comments, still feel their leery eyes on her body. “I thought you were different.” She remembered how her village danced when the war was over and Ozai’s forces left for good. She remembered the hope their prince inspired with his victory. “But you never cared about me! You only came to Akvo to have your way with the island trash.”

“How could you say that?” Zuko flailed for the right words to salvage the evening from his slip of the tongue. “You know I don’t think of you that way.”

“Do I? I’ve only known you for a few weeks. For all I know, you could be just as bad as your father,” she spat.

The dishes rattled as Zuko slammed his hands on the table. Katara started back. “Don’t you dare compare me to him!” he barked. “He was a monster and I’m—”

“You’re what?” Her sharp steel eyes slashed his protest to pieces. The scene he’d created—looming over his betrothed as he berated her—was one he was far too familiar with. One he swore he’d never recreate. His hands trembled as he sank back into his chair.

“I’m…I’m sorry.”

Katara thought he looked as pathetic as a malnourished polar bear puppy sitting there shaking through his half-assed apology. “Yeah, you are.” She left him in the courtyard with nothing but frozen kumquats for comfort.

.::.

Tears stung her eyes as she packed her bag. Only a few hours ago she felt herself liking him, wanting him, and now this. What a fool she was to think he would be different from the men who haunted her childhood. At least he showed his true colors before she could get any more entrenched in his world. After a few hours of sleep in the mountain of pillows, she would leave all of it behind.

At least, that was Katara’s plan until she left the Fire Lady’s chambers at dawn and nearly tripped over Zuko. He was kneeling beside her door, looking up at her with bleary, red-rimmed eyes. “What the hell do you want?” she seethed.

“I waited here all night.” His voice was dry. “Can we talk? Please?”

It would be easy to walk right past him. Even if he tried to stop her, Katara felt like she could overpower him through sheer rage alone. On the other hand, she rather enjoyed seeing the prince on his knees. “Fine. You have one minute.”

“I was stupid and careless last night.” He wasted no time making his desperate plea. “I’m so ashamed of how I spoke to you. The truth is I...I did remind myself of my father.” Zuko started to turn to hide his scar, but forced himself to keep his eyes on Katara. He grimaced as though it pained him to face her, to let her see all of him. “I swore to myself a long time ago that I would never be like him, and last night, I failed. I understand if you want to return to Akvo because of me—I’ll even arrange your transportation. But last night, I…” His throat bobbed with a nervous swallow. “That invitation, that dinner, I did all of that because I like you. A lot. I’d be honored if you gave me the chance to make up for what I did.”

Despite that horrible night, the part of her that still shivered when she thought of his fingers guiding her lips on the tsungi horn, that relished the feeling of his sun-baked skin under her hands, that still wanted to learn more about him, had not been smothered. The part that was still angry hated the ease with which he melted the ice around her heart. Curiosity reared its head as a compromise. “IF I gave you a chance, how would you make it up to me?”

Zuko blinked numbly as though processing her question took tremendous effort. It might have, considering he likely hadn’t slept all night. “You haven’t seen the city much since you got here, have you?”

“I haven’t seen it at all. I’ve been too busy learning about table manners and penmanship.” Katara rolled her eyes as she griped about her lessons with Lo and Li.

“Why don’t I show you around?”

Katara shifted her weight as images of the crowd’s shocked faces upon her arrival flashed through her mind. “I don’t know...won’t we draw a lot of attention?”

The fact that she didn’t outright reject the idea gave Zuko just enough hope to continue. “We’ll dress plainly and go without the royal procession. We’ll blend right in.”

“Blending in” seemed easier said than done for the crown prince with a massive facial scar and a dark-skinned islander. Still, the proposal was tempting. Before last night’s sudden end, Katara had hoped that the true nature of her connection with Zuko, whether it was strong enough to pursue or weak enough to shed painlessly, would reveal itself. A day to themselves could be the perfect opportunity. “Okay.” It was unclear which of them was more surprised by her answer.

Zuko sprang to his feet as though he felt fresh as a daisy—and immediately stumbled forward. Katara instinctively moved to catch him. She grabbed his shoulder and waist to hold him upright as he managed to steady himself with a hand against the wall. They froze in the warm dawn light, their faces inches apart. Neither dared break the tenuous connection. Eyes drifted to lips, sleep-deprived minds and bodies moved in slow motion, until…

“Oh my!” Katara and Zuko jumped apart at the sound of a panicked servant rounding the corner. “My apologies for intruding, your majesties. Please, carry on.” He backed down the hallway with a series of hurried bows.

Katara placed a hand over her racing heart. “Carry on. As if something was happening, right?” She forced a laugh as she looked at Zuko, who returned the gesture with an equally uncomfortable smile.

“Yeah. Right,” he muttered. “Maybe we should get some rest before we go. Separately! Obviously. You knew that.”

“Of course!” She definitely was not thinking about curling up in bed together and finishing what they may or may not have started. “I’ll see you in a few hours?”

“See you then.” Zuko yawned and waved goodbye before taking ten steps down the hall to his room.

Back in the Fire Lady’s chambers, Katara fell face-first into the mattress and struggled to comprehend how she’d gone from running away to having a date with Zuko. Hopefully their second would go better than their first. Or hopefully not? ‘Oh, whatever.’