A/N: Hello! I haven't written for Zutara in a long time so I had to write this out. It's a slight post-war AU in which the Gaang doesn't exist. I'm trying to decide whether I want to leave this as a oneshot or continue it. Please read and review!


He had met her once before long ago, under much less civil circumstances. He had been far younger; nine years past when he was seven, and she was five. He had accompanied his family to the royal gates of the Southern Water Tribe's palace... or so it was called. He faintly remembered glancing up to the small icy fortress and thinking that it was nowhere near as lavish as his own palace back in the Fire Nation.

The guards were few. He remembered staring in awe when he noticed that the water tribe subjects spoke casually to the tribe's chief, a man equal in authority to his own father, the firelord, yet much more humble. He remembered his mother ushering him and his sister out to the snowy courtyard to mingle with the chief's children.

"Your father is intent on making a few settlements with Chief Hakoda," Ursa had said with a troubled smile. "Go now and play with the other children while we adults discuss our matters."

He vaguely remembered a short exchange with the kids, both of whom were younger than he. Azula tormented them with snide remarks for a few minutes before a snowball sailed through the air and landed smack on Zuko's forehead. The girl, Katara, had thrown it. He'd gotten angry and stomped off just before he heard Azula say, "He's always hotheaded."

The memory seemed so distant. As he sat now with the royal dressers tying the knots of his princely armor, he tried to remember Katara's face, though he couldn't. At any rate, she was to look much different now. The five year old he could barely remember was now fourteen, the beloved young princess of the Southern Water Tribe.

All those years ago, Zuko hadn't understood that the reason his family had personally visited the royals of the Water Tribe was to negotiate an arranged marriage between Azula and the chief's eldest, Sokka.

"My prince."

Zuko was interrupted by his thoughts as one of his advisors cracked open the door to his royal chambers and peered her head through. He nodded once and she entered fully, bowing. "I'm sorry," she said, "I did not realize you were still getting dressed."

"It's fine, they were just finishing," he dismissed as the two dressers bowed to him and promptly exited the room.

"Princess Katara is here," his advisor informed, her fingers toying with the scroll in her hand. "She is at the royal gates."

"Is she accompanied?"

The woman nodded. "She is here with two guards."

Zuko raised an eyebrow. "Only two?"

"Her waterbending skills are legendary, my prince."

"I see." Zuko stood from his seat and dusted off the armor he wore. Truly, he felt the royal garb was a little imposing and unnecessary for such a meeting, but his advisors insisted that he wear it to remind his guest that he did command the extent of the Fire Nation's reaches. "I'll meet her then," he said, and followed his advisor out of the room.

The throne room was lit only by the murmuring orange glow of the flames crackling around his throne. Zuko surveyed the space and was slightly surprised to see that the princess's guards were nowhere near her.

"You are alone?" he blurted before even having the thought to greet her.

She glanced up - her head had been bowed - and seemed to falter when her eyes fell on him. Recovering quickly, she explained, "I left them outside the doors. I felt they weren't necessary." In a quieter voice, she added, "If I'd had my way, I wouldn't have brought them at all, but my father insisted."

Zuko studied her silently. She had thick black hair done up on her head in a customary royal bun adorned with smooth, shiny white pebble jewelry native to the Southern Water Tribe. Her robes were sleek, blue, and fairly simple, and around her neck hung the necklace he'd heard much about. Her mother's engagement necklace, something very precious to her as her mother had been murdered only two years after Zuko had first met her. She had steady azure eyes and an unwavering gaze. In all honesty, the rumors of her beauty were true. She possessed an admirable attractiveness that was made sharp by her determined and direct demeanor.

"You're staring."

He was taken aback by the blunt nature of her statement. "I- sorry." He dropped his royal tone by accident and inwardly cursed himself for looking and speaking like a fool.

She regarded him suspiciously. "I know perfectly well why I am here, Prince Zuko," she said in an even tone. "I'm very sorry about the loss of your father, but my brother broke off the arrangement months ago. He owes no obligation to your sister. Not after the treason she committed in the name of the Fire Nation."

"Our meeting has nothing to do with that. And don't apologize for my father's passing. He was a cruel man with foolish intentions." He noticed Katara's smooth expression falter. Her eyes widened and her brows raised. "I understand your brother's decision to cut off the marriage. My sister did treacherous acts, but I don't want anyone to believe the Fire Nation stood behind her. In fact, I have discarded two warships now to find her and bring her home to face punishment."

Katara stared in confusion. Who was this Prince Zuko? "Then why am I here?" she demanded.

Zuko sighed and stepped down from his throne to be level with her. "I won't beat around the bush. My father was interested in creating a union with the Water Tribes because of his belief that your kingdoms would be beneficial to ours. In my youth I didn't understand what you possibly could have to offer..." He remembered the obvious lack of wealth in the tribe and the dismal, snowy landscape. "But now I do. He believed your kingdom was the farthest reach from ours. He wanted to absorb your land in order to make a statement. That the Fire Nation had the world."

Katara glared at him. "Why didn't his armies just conquer us if that were the case? Clearly, we are a small, simple people. We wouldn't have been able to fend you off."

"We obtained much of the Earth Kingdom through invasions and forced assimilation, you're right. However, my father was growing wary of the tension. It was only a matter of time for Earth Kingdom powers to rebel." Zuko stepped nearer. "He wanted union with the Water Tribes to initiate a sense of complete authority. Again, making a statement. Should the Earth Kingdom fight back, they would have two adversaries. Us and you."

Katara grew silent, watching him pace the floor.

"I was arranged to be married to Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe; however, she... well..."

"She passed away," Katara interjected, fully aware. "I don't understand why you're telling me all this."

"Don't you see?" Zuko faced her now. "The war ended when the Avatar took away my father's bending. My rule of the nation began when he passed away a year later. I have no intention of pursuing the desires of my father and grandfather before me." He took yet another step nearer. "I want to join our kingdoms... not in imposing union, but in solidarity. I want peace for the Fire Nation."

Katara tucked her hands into the sleeves of her silk robe. "You want to join our kingdoms...?"

"Marriage," Zuko said simply, watching her carefully to gauge her expression.

It seemed to dawn on her. Her face took on a look of incredulity and surprise. She noted that he was studying her intently. "Is this a proposal?" she demanded in bewilderment.

Was it? He couldn't say. "I suppose it is," he said.

She was fuming. "You- I hardly know you!"

"I understand," he continued calmly, intent on remaining appropriately formal despite the the sweat forming in his palms. "I am offering you a month's stay here at the palace to gather your bearings and make your decision."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then... I guess you'd return to your home and that would be that." He refused to offer her an ultimatum; he would not negotiate in the conniving ways of his sister or father, who used threats to bait their victims. "I would like to say, though, that this union is beneficial to your kingdom as well. The nation I command is vast and wealthy. We have several armies that will, of course, be made available to the Water Tribe."

"This is ridiculous," said Katara, still obviously trying to gather her thoughts. She turned towards the door. "I will stay for the night to consider your offer."

"My proposal?" Zuko asked at her retreating figure.

"Your offer to consider the proposal for a month." She reached the doors and disappeared.


Zuko stared at the ceiling from his position on his bed, replaying the entire exchange in his head. His armor had been removed, much to his relief, and he now lounged in simple red trousers and a silk robe. His hair was taken from its top knot and pressed beneath his head against his pillows.

He knew that Katara was somewhere in the palace, probably thinking as hard as he was. Had he been too forward? Too stuffy? Too formal? He hated speaking with the emotionless, formal tone of his position during royal meetings such as that, but it was only appropriate. He needed to command respect. Otherwise, he felt like what he really was: a lost sixteen year old in an overwhelming reality.

Sometimes he longed to do what boys his age typically would do. Go to school, make friends, hang around shops or cinemas or the beach and flirt with girls. He was the lone ruler of a kingdom that spanned miles and miles of cities and towns. His face was all too recognizable, marred by the grisly reddened welt across his left eye, a mark that reminded him of the cruelty of his father.

He flopped to the side and faced the wall where a picture of his mother hung. His mother had disappeared years ago. Ozai had declared her dead, but Zuko knew better. She had visited his dreams and told him she was leaving for a while. He awaited her return still.

Under that hung a picture of his Uncle Iroh, a plump, kind man who decided to remain in Ba Sing Se once the war had ended. Zuko'd sent a messenger hawk his uncle's way just a few days ago, inquiring if all was well. He couldn't imagine how his uncle's face would look once he found out that his precious nephew was betrothed.

Well, not betrothed yet, but how hard could it be to encourage the princess? His kingdom was vast and wealthy, both things her kingdom was not. Plus he offered her the protection of his armies. How could she say no?


"No."

He gaped at her. "W-what?"

They were sitting in one of the palace's many courtyards. Zuko was still in his trousers and robe, and Katara had taken a more casual turn as well. She was adorning a knee-length blue robe and had let her hair out of its stiff bun. Thick black tresses fell over her shoulders and down her back.

"That is my decision," she said simply.

"You said you'd take the night to think it over! It's only been two hours!"

She looked up at him, her expression annoyed. He was still in awe at her lack of manners. She wasn't prim and gentle like other royal women he had met before. "You tried to bait me in with promises of wealth and protection, but the Southern Water Tribe is a proud nation nonetheless. We have survived all these years without your bribes and we will survive for many more."

Zuko couldn't believe this. "This isn't about your kingdom! You're just afraid to marry me," he accused.

She stood. hands on hips, and glared at him. "You're just as hotheaded as I remember! Get over yourself, my prince. I'm not afraid of marrying you. This has everything to do with the pride of my kingdom."

Zuko was standing now too. "Get over myself?" He was fuming. "Who do you think you are?"

"A princess!"

"Hardly! You talk with a casual tone and have no manners. It's hard to believe you grew up in the company of royals."

"Excuse me?" She raised a brow. "Are you trying to start a fight, lover boy?"

A blush stained his face. "Lover boy?"

She shrugged, seeming smug. "You proposed after all. Anyway, why are you getting so angry? Is it some inferiority complex? Have I hurt your honor by rejecting you?" She spoke with a sarcastic tinge that irritated him beyond words.

"Ugh! How are you so infuriating!" He couldn't believe he'd barely met this girl mere hours ago and already they were bickering like long time acquaintances. Who did she think she was? Still, there was something about the stark determination and relentless pride in her steady gaze that appealed to him. She was a woman of substance, he gave her that.

"I'm infuriating?"

"Ah, I thought I heard the soothing voice of my nephew."

Both turned to see Iroh standing just beyond the courtyard smiling serenely.

"U-Uncle!" Zuko stiffened and bowed immediately.

The elder man spoke gently. "And who is this fine young woman?"

Katara had seemed to sober from her fumes. Iroh's presence had an infectious soothing presence.

"This is Princess Katara of the Water Tribe," Zuko informed his uncle after a brief hug in greeting. Iroh drifted over and kissed her hand, his eyes kind.

"Katara. What a beautiful name," he praised.

"Th-thank you," she said politely.

"Now why all the yelling?" Iroh turned his gaze back on his nephew almost accusingly.

Zuko's face reddened. "Well..." he glanced down at the grass and scratched the back of his head with one hand.

Katara broke in. "I apologize for all the yelling. We were..." she glanced at Zuko as he met her eyes. "Well... we were arguing over the proposal."

Great, Zuko thought.

Iroh lifted a brow. "Proposal?"

Katara looked between Zuko, who was avoiding her gaze, and Iroh. "You don't know?" she questioned.

Iroh glanced between them, his gaze landing on his nephew. "I'm afraid I just arrived after a long stay in the Earth Kingdom. My nephew fails to update me on the developments of his life," he chuckled a bit. "But I am so pleased to hear about this! My Zuko, getting married!" He threw both of them into a hug. "What a lovely surprise to come home to! When is the wedding?"

Katara and Zuko exchanged a look. The princess chose her words carefully. "Well... I haven't answered yet. To his proposal."

Iroh's demeanor turned serious. "I see."

"But," she met Zuko's eyes. He noticed her jaw clench in thought and her gaze took on a softer quality. "I will be staying here for a month to weigh my decision."

Zuko bit his lip and tried to hide his relief, turning back to his uncle who seemed to brighten at the news. "Wonderful! It will be so nice to have someone lively around here. This palace can get quite dreary." He patted his nephew's shoulder before turning and headed towards the hallway. "I've had a long travel and will be retiring early. Please wake me for dinner, Zuko!"

Katara was smiling softly as Iroh disappeared down the hall. "He's a kind man."

Zuko turned to face her, his tone growing gentle. "Thank you for accepting my offer."

She shrugged. "It is nice to wear silk instead of heavy fur jackets for a change. A month here would almost be like a vacation." She grinned at his annoyed expression. "Oh, don't get your top knot in a twist. I'll try to make the next four weeks as painless as possible."

He watched her back as she walked off the courtyard. Somehow he didn't believe her.


Katara hugged her knees within the confines of her guest quarters. The room was large and bare, furnished with only a bed and a wall-length wardrobe.

She couldn't believe she'd agreed to stay for the month, but she could hardly say no with Iroh's expression being so... hopeful. At any rate, she'd make sure to be on her best behavior. Even despite Zuko's hotheadedness.

Really. Who did he think he was?

She wrapped her index finger with the strands of her long hair and fell back against the sheets. She could hardly remember him, though she would never forget how angry he'd gotten after she'd landed a snowball on his head. The memory brought a smile to her face. Not much had changed in his attitude.

What did change was his appearance. He was developing finely, with smooth pale skin and piercing golden eyes. She liked eyes like that; commanding, direct, yet able to become soft. She'd noticed when he turned his gaze to his uncle that there was a gentler side to him. She was curious about him despite how infuriated he'd made her.

And, of course, perhaps the biggest change was one she couldn't ignore. The scar.

It was rumored in the Southern Water Tribe that the young prince was burned at thirteen for stepping out of line. By whom and for what, Katara didn't know. But the effect was almost horrifying. The mangled flesh extended from his eye and cheek all the way to his left ear. She'd done her best not to stare.

As she sat up and gazed aimlessly at the wall, her thoughts probed the events of the day and the mysterious prince. The prince who evidently wanted nothing to do with his grandfather's regime and rejected all the cruel desires of his own late father. The prince who had spoken down to her in that uppity royal tone she so hated, yet argued with her on level ground with his hair falling over his face in that courtyard. The prince who had proposed to her only five hours ago.

There was a knock at her door. "Come in," Katara answered absentmindedly.

A young woman stepped inside, bowing. "Supper is ready, Princess. Prince Zuko requests you."

Katara slipped off the bed. "Thank you." Just as the servant turned to leave, Katara stopped her. "Wait - is this fine?" She gestured down to her informal attire, the simple blue knee-length robe.

"Prince Zuko informed me that this meal is to be casual, yes," the servant replied obediently before she scurried out.


"Ah, our guest of honor is here!" Iroh greeted as Katara entered the dining area. It was surprisingly small, with sliding doors leading out to yet another sprawling courtyard.

"Uncle, don't spoil her. She's only a guest." Zuko said dismissively, waiting for Katara to sit so he could finally dig in.

She shot him a look.

"Come now, Zuko, be a little more hospitable," Iroh scolded, "she very well could be your future wife."

"Yeah," Katara smiled sharply at the prince, who was now crossing his arms. "I could very well be your future wife."

"Will you sit down already?" he muttered, obviously cranky. "We've been waiting here for ages. I'm starving."

She sat down with a hmph and watched as he stuffed a mouthful of fish into his face. She subtly bended a bit of water out of his glass and into his lap, looking at her food innocently when he glared up at her. "What's your problem?" he demanded with a mouthful of fish.

"My problem?" she shot back.

Iroh chuckled weakly. "You two get along better than I'd imagined," he said, more to himself than them as they continued to eye daggers at each other.


The rest of the weak continued in much the same attiude. Zuko was getting more and more used to Katara's antics as the days rolled by and began to wonder if he'd be able to deal with her for a month, let alone a lifetime. She was stubborn, headstrong, snippy, sarcastic... everything he didn't expect coming from a revered princess. He'd long since dropped his formal princely attitude with her and met her stubbornness with some of his own, resulting in them butting heads during every meeting.

If his uncle wasn't there to act as a mediator during their many arguments, Zuko was sure he'd have lost it by now.

The young prince was now wandering the sparring arena just outside the palace. The area was bathed in soft blue moonlight, playing shadows across the tiled floor. He came here often to gather his thoughts and revisit old memories. There was a fountain in the farthest corner of the arena that used to spout crisp blue water for the sparring contestants to splash onto their faces after a heated match. The fountain had been dry since Zuko was thirteen.

"It's almost ironic how calm it is here."

Zuko turned to see Katara standing in the shadows at the outskirts of the arena. She stepped into the moonlight, her features accentuated by the dim blue glow. She was hugging herself and gazing at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry for intruding. I couldn't sleep."

He was taken aback at the softness of her tone. She was usually argumentative and huffy the moment she spotted him, but now...

He looked away. "You couldn't sleep?"

She said nothing. The silence drifted in the air between them. He glanced back to see that she was leaning on one of the thick round poles that bordered the arena.

"It's the anniversary," she said quietly, barely above a whisper, "of my mother's death."

Zuko stiffened and studied her, at a loss for words. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said quickly. "I'm not sad. Just... finding it difficult to go to sleep."

He had never seen her so out of sorts and so civil with him. He walked towards her, stopping a respectable distance away. In an uncertain tone, he said, "I understand. You and I aren't so different. My mother is out of the picture, too."

Her azure eyes slid up to meet his, searching his face.

"I can't sleep when I think of her. I come out here to this arena when I need to clear my mind."

"Does it help?"

"Sometimes." He regarded her for a few moments before risking it and holding out his hand as an offering.

She stared at it unsurely.

"Oh come on, don't overthink so much," he said impatiently. "I'll show you how I get over my darker thoughts."

She met his hand.

He guided her carefully to the center of the arena and gestured for her to copy him as he lay on his back against the cold stone tiles. Once she lay beside him, he pointed up at the stars. "When I was young, my mother took me out here at night and we lay just like this. She told me the stories of Tui and La, the moon and sea spirits. She then told me that each star represented the spirit of anyone good who had passed."

Katara turned, her head flat on the ground, to stare as Zuko continued to face the heavens. She'd never heard him speak so gently and with such reverence and belief before. It was a nice change from his usual frustrated tone.

"Your mother's up there," Zuko informed her, turning his head as well. He was a little startled to see that she was already looking back at him. He hoped the dim lighting didn't betray the blush on his cheek.

Her gaze flicked up to the skies. For a while, she said nothing. Zuko turned back to search the stars as well before he heard her speak, her voice low and with an unmistakable rasp to it. "Thank you, Zuko." In the moment, he felt her fingers gently overlap his, pressed against the stone floor, and he ignored the instinct to pull away. He bit his lip.

Perhaps he could stand a lifetime with her after all.


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