It was hot, and that was unnatural. It was the type of heat that clawed at the throat, burned skin, and left many a lady breathless which was saying something because bare midriffs weren't frowned upon in the slightest here. Katara even pinned her hair so high it would have been indecent were she not in the Fire Nation. She flexed her arms before hauling another stack of bamboo scrolls onto Zuko's desk.

"That should do it." said Katara, more out of relief than accomplishment. Zuko was crowned Fire Lord a year ago, but there was still so much to do! Rebellion in the Fire Nation colonies, reestablishment of trade routes between the Water Tribes, her engagement coming to an end. Katara felt like screaming. However, they would restore harmony between the nations soon. After that she could return home for good. Away from palace intrigue. Away from all this paperwork. Most of all, away from this oppressive heat. The door creaked behind her.

"Katara?" She glanced over her shoulder to see Zuko laden with a tray of tea and rice cakes. Tucked under one arm was a set of rolled hanging scrolls. She smiled and hoped it didn't look half as tired as she felt.

"Let me help you with that." said Katara

She slipped the artwork from his arms and unfurled one of them. Zuko placed the snacks on the low table, pouring a cup for each of them.

"Uncle had them commissioned. He says it'll brighten up my room." said Zuko

Katara hummed in agreement and placed the decorations on the floor then sat down cross legged. The painted scrolls were clearly a set showing Team Avatar as mythic heroes. In elegant script a haiku was written for each of them. When set side by side it formed a poem.

In the lead Aang somersaulted through the air on his glider. A pool of lotus blossoms trailed in his wake.

"Slicing through the air. A gentle lotus flower. The avatar laughs."
"Aang's poem is my least favorite."
"I don't know Zuko. I think I'd rather remember Aang this way."
"And the world?"
"What do you mean?"
"The Avatar's legacy is entwined with the Fire Lord. We have to be pillars of strength for our people."

Zuko joined her on the floor. He handed her a cup of tea and sipped his own.

"Well, if Sun Wukong can be a respected king despite his tricks I don't see why Aang can't be a fun avatar. Anyway, where were we? Oh! They made one of Sokka too!"

Sokka was painted in a swordsman's stance, waiting for a duel's crucial moment. The strong bend of a god tree seemed to move through the form with him while a glowing moon watched over both of them.

"The sword is honor. Take heed, the calm strike is true. To protect dear loves."

Katara turned to him for comment and was met with silence. Zuko glanced in the direction of the open window, mind faraway. That was when she noticed the sleeves of his robe had spatters of ink and he had gnawed his lip to bleeding.

"Zuko, you need rest."
"Keep reading."

She folded her arms and glared. He wasn't looking at her.

"This can wait. Go to sleep. You'll need the strength for the tour later."

She reached for the first scroll to roll, but he laid his hand atop her own. Katara froze. They had been friends forged by war. They had seen each other's best and worst qualities, and Katara had always taken pride in her abilities to sense the change in all of her companions moods. This was especially true with Zuko, who, more often than not could never quite express his emotions well the first time.

"Katara please. Keep reading."

She raised her head to meet his gaze. A feeling of her stomach wound in knots caused her to mirror his clenched jaw. Golden eyes. Unconsciously, she placed a hand on her abdomen and turned back to the third scroll. The artist had painted Toph in the midst of an earthbending stance. The sigil of the Beifong house -a cream colored flying boar- arced behind her.

"Silk has become steel. Connections unknown till now. Take courage and stand."

It was a good haiku, but Katara thought something more straightforward would suit Toph better.

"You were like that once." said Zuko
"What?"
"I'd cornered you that night. Grabbed your wrists-"
"Saved me from the pirates?"

Katara tried to laugh but it came out an awkward giggle. Zuko cupped her cheek and she was stunned to see tracks of tears from his good eye.

"That time, I wore the face my father would've been proud to see."
"Zuko, that was so long ago."
"I've changed Katara."
"I know. Zuko, believe me I-"

With one hand he swiped the paintings away. Fire erupted from his fingertips and nibbled at each scroll turning them to cinders. Katara stood and doused them with tea. Shaking, she took a step back and hit the desk. Zuko prostrated himself before her, the kowtow so low his forehead touched the wood.

"Zuko please get up."

He remained where he was. She knelt beside him and heard soft whimpers. Katara had seldom seen Zuko cry. In the back of her mind she knew the reasons for each of them. Today was no different. Gently, she hugged him to her bosom. When she undid his top knot he flinched, but didn't say a word.

"It'll be ok. I promise." said Katara

She lied through her teeth. It was second nature to her now. Katara ran her fingers through his hair. In her arms Zuko's breathes calmed. The sun rose higher casting shadows through the curtains. This couldn't last forever, by noon the servants would check on them. It would be shameful to see their lord in this way. When Katara started to wonder if he had fallen asleep, Zuko spoke.

"You don't have to do this. You could stay."
"You know I can't."

Zuko sat up and stared at her. Written on his face was neither anger nor hurt, but determination. He pulled her to him, and Katara found herself at a loss for words. He traced a finger along her brows, down to her cheek, to the jut of her chin. She gulped as he caressed her neck, but it wasn't his true destination. Down he went until his fingers found her hand wrapped protectively around her stomach. He nudged her hand away and replaced it with his. Katara felt she should say something, but no word came readily to her lips.

"It's mine." said Zuko
"You don't know that." said Katara

Zuko mustered soft chuckles then smiled at her. The tears had gone dry, replaced by a look she had seldom seen. It was the look Pakku gave when he saw her grandmother after so long. The look Sokka reserved only for Suki, and Yue before her. The look Aang had always given her when he thought she wasn't looking. She knew it, felt it, but was too afraid to speak its name.

"I'm sorry Katara."
"Don't be. It was a summer dream."
"It was nice while it lasted."
"It doesn't have to end just yet."
"What?"

Katara turned around and fell into his arms. Zuko wrapped his hands around her waist and sighed. She twisted 'round and nuzzled his neck.

"Like this. Stay like this one last time." said Katara