Lunar Eclipse
He felt the bed shift and heard the soft pad of her feet across the floor. He dismissed it as a midnight bathroom run, but as time ticked on his curiosity grew. She had not returned to bed and his curiosity morphed into worry as a result. "Katara?" He jumped out of bed, throwing a robe on and tying the sash around his waist. A cold silence was his only answer. His emotions and theories were a chaotic tornado of rationality and irrationality. His pounding heart did nothing to alleviate the anxiety either.
As he exited his chambers, he inquired the waterbender's whereabouts from the flanking guards. They pointed Zuko in the direction of the garden. His mind calmed and heart settled to a consistent pace. When he found her in the garden, she was dripping in the blood orange glow of the moon. Her hair was wild and plastered to her skin and her arms were stiff against her sides. Her pale pallor was slick with sweat or tears, he couldn't tell. Her frantic eyes were an electric blue, striking like lightning at the alert of his presence. In an instant, he was beside her with his arms enveloping her entire body.
Her skin was on fire. Her whole body moved with the laborious task of breathing. Now he was terrified. He took her face in his hands, searching her kinetic stare for answers. She shook her head back and forth, attempting to reassure his unasked question of her health. "I'm fine. It's just–." She jerked her head toward the enormous, overbearing moon. The lunar eclipse. Truthfully, he hadn't thought twice on the event or how it would affect her.
"Can I do anything?" She couldn't help but smile at his serious and analytical expression. "You can just wait it out with me." He nodded slowly then erratically, leading them to sit at the edge of the pond. There were no turtleducks at this time of night, so the pond was darkly still until Katara dipped her feet in, disrupting the black mirror of water. She leaned back against Zuko's chest between his legs. Zuko rubbed from her moist forehead into her hairline, while his other hand was intertwined with hers.
They sat in a comforting quiet, until his concern dominated his cooperation. "So, does this happen to all waterbenders?"
"Only to the masters, since our connection with the moon and ocean grows as our skills grow." He rested his chin on the top of her head and laced his fingers in her other hand. She nuzzled closer to him, reveling in the warmth despite her inner fever. He was still worried. She could feel it rolling off of him in tidal waves. She pushed the pond back in forth in tiny waves with the rhythm of her feet, trying to relieve some of the restless energy rushing through her veins.
"You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"
"I know." Her voice was a broken whisper.
He wanted to be there for her in as many ways and in any capacity possible just as she had been there for him. When he awoke from a particularly vivid night terror, it was her calming voice and expert healing hands that were the only things that could slip him back into sleep's waiting arms. Needless to say, his patience and mood improved as the hours of not only sleep, but genuine rest increased. Her big heart always cared for others without hesitation, burying her own needs beneath the selflessness and generosity. He refused to allow her righteous hypocrisy to isolate her. He loved her too much to let that happen, to let what she saved him from destroy her in the process.