O.o.O.o…FULL SUMMARY ARE STORY INFORMATION…o.O.o.O

Title: Caught in a Double Standard

Category: Avatar: Last Airbender
Genre: Romance/General
Pairing: Zuko x Katara
Rating: Mature (M)

Full Summary: After the final war, a subsequent era of peace was expected. But there is still a battle for equality, for full liberty. Ghosts of Zuko's past, still haunts him; making him cleave to the remnants of bitter anger. With this as an advantage, the secret society within the Fire Nation draws him in. His vulnerability causes his guard to go down…especially when the elite helps him to find his mother.

But only Katara has found out the truth behind the society's insidious schemes.

Will she be able to turn him against the people he now devoutly trusts before they kill her; or will he remain a pawn in their hand until they kill them both?

Okay, so there is the summary. I fail at neatening it; I've written and crossed out again and again and that was my best. –taps pen- ANYWAY, on to the first chapter. I thought of a Prologue but then my mind went blank. -.-"

Chapter One

By: Kyrian Cristie

Zuko groaned from the irritation of the glare of the sun through the opened blinds. Eyes cracking open, he cast a hostile glance at the window then turned over. His mind disoriented, he'd forgotten the fact of sharing his bed with his betrothed and frowned at the contact of bare skin on skin. Moving back, he blinked down at the stirring girl – whose mass of straight and jet-black hair fanned out on the pillows. She mumbled his name and, even with such close proximity between them, her coherent mumble sounded distant.

Levering himself up on his elbows, Zuko grimaced as tight spasms of pain moved through his chest. Clamping his teeth together, he forced back his agonized grunt and slowly, got out of bed. He looked around the expanse of the master bedroom and frowned. His clothes, along with Mai's, were scattered across the deep red, carpeted floor. It connoted telltale signs of their urgency the night before to his mind, which was still unclear. Picking up his silk pants, he tied the band at the waist on his way to the bathroom. A hand braced against the doorframe, he braced his weight against it for awhile. The pain in his chest became gradual and a sharp shudder rocked his body. Licking his lips, he pushed himself from the frame and continued into the bathroom.

Three weeks. It had been three, damned, weeks and still his chest was painfully haunted by Azula's shot. The medicinal herbs and creams his physicians had made and prescribed for him did nothing to soothe him. What assuage it did bring was always temporary – too temporary. Turning on the faucet, he sluiced his face twice then went through the monotonous routine of beginning his day. There was a lot on his mind. The nations were still recovering from the aftereffects of the last and culminating war. He had a lot of work to get done.

There were legal forms to be signed, refugee release forms, stamping of documents to publish legality and new rules to be stipulated. His role as firelord did not leave an exhilarating impression as it had before at the prospect. On the contrary, it left him unnerved. The water beat down on him like icy pinpricks. It raised goose bumps on his flesh but lethargy didn't allow even the slightest use of his firebending to warm himself. Twisting the sliver taps, the water receded to just drips then stopped altogether. The drain made a loud sucking sound as he drew back the shower door. Stepping out from the shower, he dragged his towel from its rack and wrapped it tightly around his lower half. Rivulets of water studded his skin; his hair clung to his face, the ends dripping.

Walking out the bathroom, he stopped short as dark, deep yellow orbs rested on the women now awake. Her eyes were rosy from sleep, and seeing him, Mai smiled drowsily and stretched. The sheet was dropped to her waist, baring her naked body for his viewing pleasure. Zuko was not enthused. His gaze bore right through her, like a silent message that conveyed his disinterest at that point. Mai smiled over at him nonetheless. He had been wonderful to her the night before and for the past weeks they had been together. But when he didn't return it, she frowned. Usually, even if he didn't return the smile, he would respond with a smirk.

Zuko's austerity stemmed from his inundation. There was too much to be dealt with, his sleep the past nights had been haunted. He just wanted peace, and not for it to evanesce as it always did but just stay. Permanently. Going to the vanity, he opened the drawer and pulled out his undergarments. As if on cue, his valet knocked promptly on the door.

The day had begun.

"Zuko…?"

Impassive eyes looked at her poised and still reflection. He ignored the concerned and quizzical look on her face and moved to the door.

"Get some clothes on," he said; and without preamble, opened the door for the valet to enter. The man bowed deeply and held out his hands, which held Zuko's garments for that day. Mai grabbed for the sheets, clutching them to her breasts. Her face flushed from the suddenness of that and she glared at Zuko's back as he disappeared in the adjoining changing room. Her lips puckered into a pout and her brows drew together as her face fell into a pensive pout. What was wrong with him? He'd been fine all this time. Why such a sharp transition from a happy and nonchalant attitude to…this?

She would ask but such cold austerity would only induce irritation from him, if she were to bother him. Mai knew he would term her concern as petty then dismiss her. During the days, leading up to and of, the war, Zuko had been that way to her on few occasions.

Licking her lips, she waited until the valet left the room with Zuko's dirty laundry before getting out of the bed and shrugging on her velvet robe. Tying the sash at the center, she pulled her hair from within the garment and tossed it to rest over her shoulders. Walking towards the room, she leaned in the doorframe and watched him. He seemed to be struggling with getting his hands through the sleeves. His grunt of pain piqued her concern and she moved to him.

"Let me help you," she said softly, her hands on his arms to stop him from moving.

Zuko looked down at her, face set into a frown. "Mai, I can handle this."

"But you're in pain."

"I'm fine."

"Let me help you."

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. He wasn't in the mood for her persistent defiance. The small ebb and flow of anger evoked a movement of warmth throughout his body. Mai felt the heat as her hand moved up his arm and she frowned.

"What is wrong with you Zuko?"

"It is none of your concern."

His disposition began to poke around the embers of her anger ad she glared at him. "Zuko, I want to help you," she said, her voice level and firm.

"I know," he sighed.

"Then let me." Her hands reached up to stroke his face and touch his scarred eye. His hand clamped around her wrist sharply and he pulled her to him; leaning down to her ear.

"Start, by leaving me alone."

He dropped her hand, tied the bonds of his garments then left; brushing passed her. Mai staggered back a step and just stared out the window. Her jaw worked convulsively and she swallowed. She wanted to cry. Each time he behaved like this, it broke down the tolerance she had built for it. And the compassion he often showed, saw to the vulnerability of her heart. Wiping her face, she walked out the room and went to the bathroom.

O.o.O.o

Zuko sat in his study, rocking back in his high-backed, leather chair. He dropped the paintbrush in its ink bottle on the table and ran a hand through his hair. The surface of his mahogany table was covered by stacks of papers and he felt intimidated by the lot. The windows were open, the heavy gold and deep red curtains pulled back to offer view of the outside. The sun was hidden, but in its absence, nature still pumped a vibrant energy; making it ebb and low in the atmosphere. White puffs layered themselves across the blue expanse of sky. But that energy, that life, it did not radiate through him. Zuko was tormented, he couldn't work. He wanted to begin but the drive was not there. There wasn't much noise in the mansion. The servants knew that his working hours were when the house was to be extremely silent. However, he didn't want silence. The reverberating tick-tock of the grandfather clock to the left of the room, only invoked a drugging and building tiredness. With each breath he took, his chest tightened. His eyelids drooped.

What he needed, wanted more than anything was…

O.o.O.o

Ahh, so there's the first chapter; my mind spaced out during some of it. I wanted to do it over but I won't. I'll let it stay as it is. Hope you liked it. And Chapter two is in progression! =]