Zutara Week 2017: One shot for tumblr's Zutaraweek. Day one: Firelady.
If there was one thing Katara appreciated, it was a good bed. After months of traveling – forcing them to sleep in Appa's saddle as he coasted through the sky and hoping he wouldn't fall asleep, in tents on the hard ground in strange forests, or on the stiff cots the Air Nomads called beds in rooms where the wind constantly blew through at night – the beds on Ember Island seemed like a dream. Not only did she have her own room – she could barely contain her excitement over not having to share her sleeping space with other people, no more snoring keeping her up at night – she had her own bed, a large bed to sprawl out on. A large and fluffy bed with three pillows she didn't have to share and a door to keep everyone out. It was wonderful.
Which was why she was so absolutely frustrated that she couldn't sleep. No matter how she turned or twisted, how she fluffed her pillows, or arranged her blankets, she just couldn't fall asleep. It wasn't like it was the first night at Zuko's family home; they had been there for a while. But ever since the night of the Ember Island Players, she would be overcome by restlessness at night. She rose with the moon, but this was getting ridiculous. So to avoid the thoughts that swirled in her mind like a whirlpool – thoughts of green-lit caves, amber eyes, and warm, rough skin beneath her fingertips – she began roaming the halls at night.
It was on the fourth night of wandering the massive house that she stumbled upon the Fire Lady's chambers. She was wary about entering the room; the other rooms she had entered before seemed so impersonal: a library, a weapons room, a storage room full of unused furniture. Interesting rooms filled with lots of items, but nothing that she could really connect to anyone. Zuko spoke of his mother with such love and reverence, she didn't want to intrude on the space and upset him. But the picture of Ursa that she spotted when she opened the door – Spirits, Zuko looks so much like her – beckoned her inside. She stopped in front of the picture of Ursa first, inspecting the painting closely. The woman was tall, regal looking, but her face was soft and her eyes warm. The little smile on her lips reminded her of the half smile Zuko would sometimes give her. Beautiful, powerful, but still kind. After a minute or two, she turned her attention to the rest of the room. The furniture had been covered with white sheets; layers of dust had settled upon it. She walked over to what appeared to be a dressing table across from the painting, nearly gasping in the dust as she moved the sheet aside. "Tui and La," she murmured as her blue eyes roamed the jewelry and half filled perfume bottles. Bracelets, rings, necklaces, there was even a crown. The gold gleamed in the moonlight, the rubies shining dully in the darkness; they needed the light to really show their beauty, the depth and fire of them. Her hand brushed lightly over a set of bangles before she turned toward the armoire.
Katara was certain the wardrobe was larger than some of the tents they had slept in while traveling. Made of a dark wood, it was elaborately carved with intertwining flowers and dragons. She ran her hand over the design, in awe of the craftsmanship before she reached for the handle. The door opened with a loud creak, making Katara wince and look around. She wasn't doing anything wrong exactly, but she was definitely intruding now. But she had already come this far, she might as well satisfy all of her curiosity.
The armoire was filled with dresses and robes in every material possible: smooth silks, rich velvets, immaculate lace. Katara didn't need much light to tell how gorgeous the clothing was, clothes fit for a Fire Lady. Even as her conscience screamed that she was definitely crossing the line and Zuko would be very angry if he found her, she couldn't help pulling one of the robes off the hanger – she sighed quietly at the soft touch of velvet – and draping it over her shoulders. She knew she was too old to be playing dress-up; she had been too old since her mother was killed. But she wanted that moment to be young and frivolous, to experience some of the youth that the war had stolen from her. She didn't think Zuko's mother would mind her trying on the clothes for a moment and she'd put it right back. No one would ever know.
Smoothing the fabric over her shoulders, she moved back to the dressing table mirror, the hem of the robe dragging across the floor behind her. The velvet was black, embroidered with a heavy gold and red thread that made her think of an ivy plant she had seen crawling up the side of a building back in Ba Sing Se. She caught sight of Ursa's painting in the mirror, automatically straightening her shoulders to mimic the former Fire Lady's posture. Katara's hair wasn't as neatly brushed as Ursa's, but it did resemble her topknot; she was also missing the jewelry she wore, but didn't dare touch Ursa's. The shoulders of the robe were too wide for her small frame and she was several inches shorter than Ursa judging by the fabric pooling at her feet, but she tried to do her clothes justice. "I look nice," Katara said, looking at the painting's reflection in the mirror. "But not as beautiful as you, Ursa."
"What are you doing?" Zuko's voice questioned suddenly as the lanterns in the room were lit with small flames, bathing the room in a warm glow.
Katara spun around suddenly with a gasp, shocked to find Zuko standing in the room. She kicked herself for being so distracted that she hadn't heard him coming down the hallway, let alone entering the room. "Zuko, I- I," she stammered, trying to figure out how to explain why she was wearing his mom's clothes without sounding like a total lunatic.
"Don't move," he said quietly as her hands reached for the lapels of the robe to remove it. Katara's hands froze against the velvet, her eyes never leaving Zuko as he approached her slowly. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her hands becoming clammy. They had finally become friends – maybe more than friends, a traitorous part of her mind commented – and she had to mess it all up by going through his mother's stuff. He had to be livid with her. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid, Katara,' she berated herself.
Zuko stopped less than a foot in front of her, grabbing something off the dresser before turning his attention back to her. As Katara heard a faint jingle, she glanced down at Zuko's hands, surprised to see him holding a set of gold bangles. Her surprise grew as Zuko carefully took her hands in his, sliding the bangles onto her slim wrists. The bangles jingled as she lowered her hands to her side, the only sound in the room. Zuko took half a step back, his eyes straying from her head to her feet, before he reached for something else on the dresser. Part of her wanted to ask what he was doing, why he was doing this, but she was too shocked to move, much less speak. He held up an intricate gold necklace set with rubies, showing it to her before moving behind her. A soft gasp left Katara's lips as she felt his warm hands brush against her collarbone and neck as he fastened the necklace, her mouth going dry. She could have sworn she felt his lips brush the back of her neck before he settled her hair back into place.
He placed his hands lightly on her waist as he turned her to face the mirror. Her eyes instinctively sought his as she looked into the mirror, his head above her right shoulder. Katara had grown used to deciphering Zuko's expressions, to reading him by the set of his mouth or the light of his eyes, but this was an expression she had never seen on him. She'd never seen his face look so…soft, so tender; it made her heart melt at the sight of it. This was a look she wanted to see on him every day. "Look," he prompted her, directing her attention away from his reflection and onto hers.
"Oh," Katara murmured in awe as she took in her appearance. The gold bangles and necklace brought out the warm tones in her brown skin, making it glow as radiantly as the jewelry; the lanterns Zuko lit brought out the fire of the rubies that adorned her neck. As she leaned back against Zuko's chest lightly, she couldn't help noticing what a nicely matched pair they made, their differences complimenting each other. Fire and water. "Wow."
A small half smile crept across Zuko's lips as he kissed the side of her head, his hands still resting lightly on her waist. "You're beautiful, Katara," he murmured. In that moment, in the quiet room bathed in soft candlelight, held in the arms of this handsome, complicated boy who she might be developing feelings for, with the portrait of his mother smiling kindly down on them like a blessing, she felt beautiful too.
Let me know if you like it and maybe I'll write for the rest of Zutara week!