Of Dying Coals and Fairy Tales

by therentyoupay

When the dark is too hard to beat, and the lights are calling you home. — Zutara, written as a gift!fic for kefiradalila as part of LiveJournal's kz secret santa event.

Disclaimer: I do not own.
Title: of dying coals and fairy tales
Rating: PG-13
Status: Part 1/2.
Current Word Count: 2,827.
Author's Notes: 2/4/2012. Written as a gift!fic for kefiradalila as part of LiveJournal's kz_secret_santa event. Deadline was January 31st and I am late. D: Out of the five prompts I received, I chose the following: (1) fairy tales and (2) ZK take a long road trip together (or ship trip) that leads to romance. It could be any rating I wanted, but I couldn't write anything with Zutara failing to be madly in love or anything beyond incidental angst. (Which was difficult because I feel like angst is mostly what I write!) Also, I listened to "Lights" by Ellie Goulding about 5,000 times while writing this, so all of the lyrics within are from that song!

To the Recipient, kefiradalila: I am so sorry! The worst part is that I'm not even done, but I couldn't bear the thought of submitting it any later than I already am, so I decided to break the one-shot into two parts. Please forgive me! I'm hoping to have this completed by the end of the weekend. :/ I promise it will have a happy ending of course, so I hope this isn't too angsty! Please let me know what you think and again—I AM SO SORRY.

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I had a way then, losing it all on my own.
I had a heart then, but the queen has been overthrown.
And I'm not sleeping now, the dark is too hard to beat.
And I'm not keeping now the strength I need to push me.

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of dying coals and fairy tales

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"Whatever happened to her?"

Katara paused mid-reach, her gloved hand just inches away from the dying piece of coal that had fallen astray. His question sounded genuine, but that wasn't going to help Katara find an answer.

I should have known something like this was going to come up.

A small voice in the farthest corner of her mind suddenly rang with doubt, surfacing her supposedly long-forgotten worries before she could suppress them. She looked to the ragged lines and edges of heat bursting apart the glowing stone as if they might bring her the courage to meet his eyes in answer, and after a too-long moment, she carefully scooped the hot coal back into the fire where it belonged.

"Sorry," he said abruptly, his voice filling the awkward silence along with the crackling of the fire. "Tact was never my strong point."

She looked to him then, seeing his face framed by fur both foreign and familiar, and she offered him a small smile of assurance. "I'm sure you'll get the knack of diplomacy eventually."

Another beat of silence, and then Zuko shifted in his seat against the wall of snow and ice behind him. She almost laughed at the sight he made, so obviously uncomfortable in the only things that were saving him from the Northern tundra frostbite. Fire Lord Zuko and Waterbending Master Lady Katara had been offered some of the grandest guest rooms of the palace to rest, but after a long day of negotiations, feasts, festivals and humoring Northern traditions and rituals, they have still found themselves settled on the outskirts of the kingdom; in a hastily, yet expertly-crafted igloo and with a raging fire along the glacier's edge, the missing blocks of the ice roof have allowed them to enjoy the brightness of the stars.

"With the way my uncle's been drilling me for these last few years, and all these successful banquets and meetings and whatever, you'd think these crash courses in political etiquette would have started generalizing over to more casual settings by now," he muttered, scowling at the stitching of his thick parka.

At this, she did laugh... until his glare stifled it. "I'm sorry," she smiled, though it was admittedly with no guise of true apology. "I suppose I've just forgotten how your commitment to perfection can make you so moody at times."

His brows furrowed, but a knowing smirk tipped the angle of his mouth in a pleasant manner. "Moody? Apparently I'm not the only one who still struggles with choosing words wisely; you just insulted a key emissary in our quest for healthy international relations, you know."

"On the contrary, my good Fire Lord," she quipped, nudging the burning coals with a hearty jab of her makeshift fire poker. "When it comes to political matters, you should remember that I am quite the competent orator."

Zuko watched the sparks fly into the air, and flicked a few stray wisps of shredded coal off of his boot with another half-hearted scowl. "So I've heard; I have no doubts that your speeches are still... incendiary."

"Mockery is not becoming, Zuko, royalty or not." She managed to emphasize this point by poking his shoulder with her stick from across the fire.

"And so I've failed yet another lesson in political etiquette." He rolled his eyes, but the effect was tempered by his restlessly shifting about. "Seems uncle's only bound for disappointment."

While tempted to make another playful comment to keep the atmosphere light, Katara could not deny that his earlier comment had indeed induced a shift in air. She swallowed, suddenly feeling fourteen and unsure again, but missing the curiously absent, oh-so-firm resolve that usually set the foundation of her strength.

I deluded myself into thinking that this ambassadorship wouldn't be difficult.

She didn't dare think further about the reasons regarding what—or who—had made it so.

"In all seriousness, Zuko," she spoke levelly, keeping her eyes trained on the fire. "The way you handled the negotiations today with the elders was very impressive. You should be proud of how far you've come."

She risked a glance to his face, warmed by the light between them, and was not surprised by his baffled expression at the change in her demeanor. Soon enough, he nodded. With one more attempt at lightness—"I don't suppose there were any places closer or warmer I could've gone to reach the same milestones?"—he acquiesced with her subtle hint at a more subdued conversation. "I'll admit that the first time I came to the North Pole, I obviously could never have expected to return like this, let alone learn more about its culture or... its people."

Their eyes met across the small—much too small—space of the hut in a knowing glance, and Katara couldn't have stopped the words from spilling out of her mouth even if she'd tried.

"You really don't know? Sokka hasn't told you?" she whispered, incredulous eyes probing.

"I wasn't there. Sokka... doesn't talk about her much. I only heard the story from my uncle."

"So you do know," Katara repeated somewhat decidedly, only barely allowing herself to cling to the hope that she would not have to retell it. Zuko's jaw tightened, and Katara was distracted by his throat as he swallowed.

"I know that Princess Yue was granted the gift of a stronger life by the Moon Spirit, Tui," he said, voice tight. "And I know that she returned the favor to undo the damage wrought by Admiral Zhao, rendering her Tui's successor."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I... I know the story of her death," he began cautiously. "But I don't know much about what's happened to her since."

Katara didn't bother to hide her confusion... or her curiosity. "Since?"

"It's obvious that her passing has greatly affected this tribe... and with good reason," he backpedaled, and his disarming stance and gloved hands raised in protest hinted at a much younger, much more uncertain member of the old team. "I learned a lot today about hunting, healing, carving... but I know that these aren't the only things that matter to this tribe. She was important to them in a number of ways... and I want to better understand."

"What are you getting at, Zuko?"

"Today we talked of reconstruction and rekindling," he said after a long moment. His voice was soft enough to soothe, but measured and controlled in its intensity. "We talked of uniting our great nations in an even greater republic... but even just a few years in this role has taught me enough about old wounds; some just can't ever be healed. And so many will recoil from that which is... reminiscent, I suppose, in order to better treat the pain."

"Reminiscent?"

Zuko breathed deeply, sparing a dark glance toward the fire insignia threaded into his sleeve.

"Wait," she said suddenly, gently shaking her head as she sorted through her thoughts. "What you're saying isn't really making sense, but from what I can gather, are you... are you implying that there's some sort of connection between what happened to Princess Yue and how the Northern tribe perceives you?"

The tilt of his mouth returned to his once iconic smirk, but instead of the bitterness and misplaced entitlement of so many years before, or the boyish confidence that followed not long after, it was now laced with irony.

"They don't blame you, Zuko," Katara urged him, inexplicably feeling more like her young self again than she had in months.

This is the real reason you agreed to go on this trip, isn't it? Her mind suddenly sniped. This sensation of being alive, which has been suspiciously absent for quite a while... What a coincidence in finding its return on this journey, isn't it? You haven't felt anything like this since—

"And they know the truth," she continued, interrupting her unsettling thoughts. "What happened was the act of a viciously ambitious man, yes—"

"A monstrous creation of our collective cruelty?"

"But they know better than to blame the Fire Nation at large," she said pointedly. "Aang has seen to that. What we—as a team—have accomplished has seen to that. One look at what you've done in just today alone would be enough for anyone to see what good can come from the Fire Nation."

"I suppose I could agree with you," he said softly. "I mean, if merely considering the metropolis' hospitality or the sincerity in Chief's Arnook's toast regarding our journey toward reconciliation... the jovial pats of camaraderie on each others' backs? Considering only this, maybe I could agree with you.

"But when I looked into the eyes of the children lining those streets and peering up at me in confusion at the welcoming ceremony, or when I felt the reluctance in the grip of the hands of the more conservative councilmen... or when I noticed the faces staring up at the full moon tonight as we made our way here," he chuckled bitterly, and Katara's heart skipped. "It's clear that there's something still lingering in the hearts of these people that is making it difficult for this tribe to come to terms with my presence here; the last time any of these civilians might have seen me, or might have seen the colors of our Nation... it was the massive Siege of the North. The night that they lost their beloved Princess."

Katara sat with the silence, watching the firelight play across his pale features with heavy eyes and a heavier heart. She wanted to speak, but swallowing the uncertain words on her tongue felt like swallowing one of her fading coals. Their eyes locked, and Katara could see the dying fire reflected within them.

"So, no... I can't say I agree."

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The somber air that had settled over them since the night spent stargazing in the hut had still not dissipated by the time the return ship had marked its departure. Having said their long farewells to the icy peaks of the palace walls and paid their respects to its inhabitants, the two ambassadors set course for the Fire Nation. There in the capital, Katara knew, was where many a legislative meeting and many a long night spent discussing policies and peace would inevitably take place. After a matter of only a few weeks, another ship would eventually carry her toward her final destination: the South Pole.

She tried to ignore the uneasy feeling settling in her core at the thought of returning so soon, but this only increased her anxiety. Hadn't she once longed for home? Didn't she miss her father? Wasn't she desperate to see her brother taking his rightful place as the next Chief? She wanted to see them, no doubt, but...

This is where the almost forgotten anxiety, which had been growing heavier with each year since the war, inevitably resurfaced.

What was home?

She had spent so many months exploring the concept of adventure during Aang's quest that it was not long before home morphed from the geographical context of South Pole to wherever Sokka is to the broader concept of family... which was everywhere, in actuality, because who could Katara meet and befriend without considering them family?

And this is where the first of her confusion had truly started to set in.

Where was home?

The war's end had brought a great deal of happiness, but also many painful questions, much self-reflection, and even more agitation. At first Katara had imagined that it was simply the idea of remaining sedentary that had frightened her so thoroughly; all of her travels must have made her restless—that was all. Thus, the solution merely called for lengthy travels and new allies, she reasoned, which was so perfectly in conjunction with her status as trusted friend of the Avatar and the obvious need for international representatives that she couldn't help but feel relief.

But...

Even after weeks of intercontinental voyaging, it soon became apparent that the issue was actually less a matter of where was home... and more a matter of who. This, after much soul searching, eventually lead to a rather painful revelation; Katara realized that home, despite all of her desperate attempts and guilt-ridden pangs of failed attempts and disappointment, could not equate to Aang alone. The impact was devastating for both of them.

Aboard the steam vessel en route to the Fire Nation capital almost three years later, Katara was already familiar with the sense of floating adrift and astray. She held in her anxiousness quietly, which wasn't easy—not only because she was Katara, but also because the ship was already too quiet.

...and also because she had finally realized that she knew who home was; if she were really being honest with herself, as she was trying to be, she might admit that she had probably known for quite some time.

Having deliberated all of this extensively for the first two days of their subdued journey, Katara sought the fearlessness buried deep within her for strength, and later found herself standing in her nightclothes and parka at the threshold of Fire Lord Zuko's private rooms with a crinkled scroll in hand.

Zuko received his late night visitor under the complete assumption of news from the captain, so his surprise was spread open and plain across his features in the glow of the candlelight. "Katara," he breathed, and she knew instantly that she had worried him. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you," she said, when really, she wasn't sorry at all. "I just wanted to share something with you, and I thought it should be before we docked at the capital tomorrow."

If Zuko was surprised further, he was much better about masking his feelings this time. "Of course," he nodded, stepping aside to allow her entry.

Sweeping inside the room, Katara took note of the simple furnishings and the shades of red adorning almost every visible inch of fabric. It was not the first time she'd set foot into his chambers, but her previous visits had always felt so much lighter, and Katara was certain that the change could be attributed to the newfound ball of lead sitting at the bottom of her gut. Passing over the chairs at his desk, Katara instead tugged a loose cushion from a nearby seat, and waited for him to join her on the floor.

Following her lead, Zuko seated himself beside her, and allowed his curiosity and impatience to leak through. "All right," he began, obviously still concerned. "What is this about?"

She took a deep breath and turned toward him fully, her gaze locked and serious. "Did you know they created a fairy tale for Princess Yue?"

Zuko blinked, and as his brow slanted in incredulity, his lips dipped into the tentative breath of laughter of someone who believes they have obviously misheard someone. "I beg your pardon?"

"This is what you wanted to know, isn't it?" she said, straining to keep her voice level as she pulled unwound the scroll in her palm with miraculously steady fingers. "Look."

She passed the parchment toward him, hoping and fearing all at once that she would be spared the burn brought by the brief touch of his fingers. He did not extend his hand, but instead shifted his cushion closer to hers, leaning into her shoulder to better read the fluid script etched into scroll. Katara's breathing hitched immediately, but she forced a swallow and continued.

"It's actually rather lovely... though I'm not sure I'd ever share it with Sokka, if I were you," she smiled in an attempt to settle her nerves, longing for the easy banter they had managed during the first few weeks of their passage. She paused and looked to him almost sheepishly. "Our stories are usually meant to be passed down orally, but I couldn't resist writing it down."

Seeming to realize the level of consequence with which Katara viewed the sharing of this scroll, Zuko released a long breath and allowed his lips to tilted into a small smile. He caught her gaze then, and for a heavy moment Katara was convinced that he was going to—kiss her—playfully laugh at her stubbornness or roll his eyes in that endearing way that his uncle knew so well, but before either could happen, Zuko gently cleared his throat and directed his eyes back toward the scroll between them. Katara watched the workings of his jaw carefully as he swallowed and had to remind herself to breathe. She felt his shoulders offer a light shrug, and heard the smile in his voice as he encouraged her to go on. "Well," he said quietly. "Let's hear it."

Willing her fingers to remain steady, Katara tried to absorb the warmth of his closeness without giving herself away. She cleared her throat, tested one more glance at him, and began.

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Once upon a time...

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