Katara stormed into the palace, cutting Zuko off mid-kick. His sparring partner got a well-aimed flame kick off at the new Fire Lord's chest, sending him sprawling. Katara started with surprise, her teary eyes widening with concern.
"Are you alright, Zuko?" she asked, cringing with embarrassment. The firebender across from Zuko helped him to his feet. They clasped fist and open hand in the Fire Nation sign of respect, and Zuko gave him leave to go.
"I'm fine," the young man said, picking up a towel from the lounge couch beside the makeshift Agni Ki arena. Katara realized suddenly that the prince – no, Lord – was shirtless, rivulets of sweat pouring off his bare chest and from his thick dark hair. Zuko patted down his upper body and spent extra time wiping the sweat from the burned scar that covered his left eye. "We were just about finished. And I hadn't expected you so soon. Um, not that – not that I was expecting you. I mean…" Zuko turned away as Katara's eyes narrowed.
"How did Aang tell you already? I just came from his room, and he certainly wasn't flying here when I left. And why would he tell you I broke up with him when –" Katara broke off, realizing she was shouting at him.
Zuko looked honestly confused. "You – you broke up with him?" The skepticism in his voice set her off again.
"Of course! I'm not so self-absorbed to think I'm more important to him than the whole world! I shouldn't be! How can we have the avatar when he spends so much time with me? It isn't fair, it isn't…" She found herself in front of Zuko, though she could not say who had moved to whom. All she knew was the tears had started again. "It isn't fair. Why did he let me go? Why didn't he stop me?" And she buried her tear stained face in his hard, hot chest, tears evaporating against his skin, leaving a salty trail on hers.
Then his arms were around her, and they were sitting on the low couch. In her jumbled thoughts, she realized there were orange-grapes in a bowl next to them. Her favorite. She pulled her gaze from the fruit and up to Zuko's golden eyes. "Why didn't he fight for me?"
There was a sad smile on Zuko's face as he answered. "He's been worrying over this for months, Katara," he began, brushing the remaining tears from her eyes. "All he's been able to talk to me about since before the final battle is how he could never be enough for you. 'I'm the avatar,' he said, 'I need to go where I'm needed. Katara deserves better than an absent love.' It broke his heart, deciding to let you go."
Confusion returned to Katara's face. "But… I just broke up with him ten minutes ago. What are you saying?"
"It was going to happen sooner or later. I kept telling him you'd beat him to the punch, but he thought he'd have to push off, set off on some trip of discovery, to get you to let go of him." Katara thought of the argument that had been their last – Aang had wanted her to stay behind while he surveyed the Air Temples to see what repair work needed to be done. She wouldn't have it. When push came to shove, she always shoved harder. For once, Aang did not budge. Toph would have been proud.
Of course it had taken more than one fight to get them to that point. Aang had been so distant since taking Ozai's life, refusing to let her console him in any way. What good was the motherly Katara when he would not let her soothe him?
"He's gone," Katara murmured. "I couldn't help." Zuko pulled her off his chest, looking her straight in the eye.
"He isn't gone, Katara. He took a life. Even if it was my father's, Aang has to deal with that in his own way. There's nothing any of us can do." She fell back into his body, wracked with tears.
"He was the one though…" she moaned between sobs. His hand stiffened against the small of her back.
"Not the only one." He led the despondent Katara through the palace, to a room where she had never been. Great bronze doors with dragon's head handles blocked their way, but Zuko softly pushed them open. Inside was pitch dark. She barely had time or attention span to notice anything before Zuko had shut the door. His hands pressed her lightly to the floor, where she found a soft cushion. She sat there, staring at where her hands must be, until a flicker caught her eye. A few feet in front of her, Zuko posed. Tiny tongues of flame spread from his knuckles, and in an instant he whirled around, a thin ring of flame materializing where his fist and raised foot passed. In the dark silent room, Zuko's exhaled breath pressed against Katara's eardrums. As the pressure passed, so too did the ring of fire, and as it grew a million candles were lit.
Tears forgotten, Katara's gut sank as she realized what was happening. "Zuko, I…" He stopped her with a raised hand.
"There's another reason you couldn't help Aang, Katara. You can't heal everything. You aren't that person. Deep down I know you're more like me than you realize. I've seen it. And I know you see me better than everyone else." He gestured to his face. "You see past the scar. I see past your façade."
"That's crazy – " she began, before being cut off.
"You bloodbend, Katara. That isn't what a healer does. No matter what kind of face you wear for Sokka and Aang, you know deep down you aren't whom they see. Aang knew it, too. He really is wise beyond his years. Well, I guess he is over a hundred… Anyways…" He coughed to clear his scratchy throat. "I know the darkness inside you, Katara. It's the same as me. Aang doesn't have it, he can't understand it. But he knows you wouldn't be happy wearing a mask for the rest of your life. That is why he can't be with you."
Sudden rage filled Katara. "Who do you think you ARE?" Pans of water she hadn't known were there suddenly emptied, droplets spattering everywhere. Half the candles sputtered out, leaving a blotchy light permeating the room. In an instant she was up, advancing on Zuko, who didn't seem to know what to do. "You think you know me because you've seen me bloodbend? So has Aang! So has Sokka! They know it isn't me! They know it isn't me!" With each sentence she lashed out, thin whips of water striking Zuko. Or they would, if they didn't burst into steam with a well-timed counter-attack. Her rage fell into despair. "Isn't… me… Isn't… me…" she repeated, over and over, her attacks growing weaker and weaker until she fell at Zuko's feet. Once again, her teary face looked up to his for answers. When she saw pity in his eyes, something snapped. She rose again, water flowing around her arms. With a shove Zuko went flying to land on the bed she had not noticed, and a heartbeat later she was on him. "He should have accepted me, should have known, shouldn't have left," she grunted, over and over, watery tentacles slapping, and suddenly she did not know what was happening, Zuko was pulling himself up, his hands, so warm, were clinging to her dress.
"I accept you, I know you, I will never leave you." There were now tears in his eyes. Katara could not handle it. Not now, not after today. She felt something stir deep within her, something she could not control, something she did not want to hold back. Before she could think, she had pulled Zuko on top of her on the bed.
"Then accept," she growled.
She grabbed Zuko's tight, muscular shoulders and pushed him down, down, until his head rested on the crimson satin pillow. She lowered her head after his, angry tears blurring her vision as her eyelids closed. She was just about to break off, say how stupid she was being, when his lips pushed up, and then all thoughts, of folly or otherwise, disappeared in steamy bliss. A flame started within her, as it never had with Aang, as it never could have with Aang.
Zuko's whole body seemed behind the kiss, each moment and motion feeling like a symphony of intricate movements, and of course heat. Blistering heat pervaded her body, making her skin crawl and joints ache, but with pleasure only. Whereas hot weather normally made Katara sluggish and lazy, this heat energized her, and she found her hands moving of their own accord, twisting and twirling in Zuko's hair, nails tracing down his neck and up it, losing themselves in the messy locks.
She could not have said how long they lay like that. Part of her wondered when they had moved to the floor, but most of her didn't care. She felt something hard against her leg, something else that had been less and less frequent with Aang recently. When she thought of Aang, more anger filled her, and her hand darted for Zuko's pants. His hand gripped hers, and he pulled back from the kiss. "Not so soon," he whispered, though she could see the pain it caused him. "I just – I don't think we should rush – "
Katara didn't know how she knew, but she knew. "You're a virgin?" she giggled, despite herself, and at once regretted it. Zuko's eyes darted away, and a consternated sigh escaped her lips as he sat up. She draped her arms about him. When he looked into her face she saw embarrassment, yes, but also that fire, the fire she had felt within her, and that rage as well. The dark passion, from such different sources but so very much the same. Even though these excited her even more, she forced herself to merely stroke his arm. "When you're ready," she whispered, kissing his ear.