After the Smoke Clears
Zuko and Katara and the end of the world.
One.
Pull the trigger without thinking; there's only one way down this road.
+I've made everyone older because of reasons. Katara is 19 and you can do the rest of the math. xx
+ Also, even though this begins at the battle between Zuko and Katara at the Spirit Oasis, she's already learned blood-bending. Fancy that.
+ Also, if you're offended by swearing, this story is going to offend you.
This is rated M, so if you're not 18, you should stop reading.
Right now. This is not a drill.
Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or "Time Bomb" (All Time Low. fantastic song/band/human beings) nor do I profit from this story.
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The moon was high in the sky and Katara was alone.
She and Sokka had decided early on that if they had to choose between one of them staying behind or saving Aang, they would save Aang.
So Sokka made good on his promise.
Aang had been utterly defenseless in the Spirit World when the banished Fire Prince and strolled into the Spirit Oasis, contempt in his gaze and flames dripping from his fingertips. Katara had distracted him by sending a wall of ice and snow barreling towards him while Sokka had grabbed Aang, hopped onto Appa, and taken off into the night, sounds of destruction echoing around them.
The North Pole may fall, but the Avatar would survive.
And so, Katara found herself alone.
Except that she wasn't really alone, because Zuko never gave up.
He was impossible, really – more machine than man.
He stood across from her, fierce Arctic wind blowing his awful topknot – seriously, what kind of hairstyle was that - and armor gleaming. His face gave her the impression that he was internally bitching about his honor while he flung death-threats at her through the blistering night.
For the most part, he looked exactly the same as every other time she had seen him: distinguished and immaculate. She could detect neither a hair out of place nor a speck of dust on his armor, even after exchanging blows for nearly four fucking hours.
"So they just left you, did they?" he goaded, sending a fire-whip slicing towards her through the night.
Didn't he ever tire?
She was completely spent, and she half-heartedly pulled the snow at her feet up to meet his flames.
She barely had enough time to push the hair and soot out of her eyes before he sent another burst of flames her way.
She deftly blocked it, but she was wearing out quickly.
Even as the exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, her heart thudded wildly.
This was it. She had achieved Master status in the practice arena, but now she was facing a banished prince who had been trained as a warrior for his entire life, as the scar on his face suggested.
Sure, she had skill. But he had skill and seemingly inhuman stamina.
That might prove to be deadly.
"This ends tonight, water peasant," he spat at her. She gulped as a wall of flames taller than she came barreling towards her.
Knowing she didn't have the strength to take it head-on, she tucked and rolled behind a boulder, wincing as the flames singed her hair and bits of exposed skin.
But she wouldn't let him get the best of her.
She didn't have that luxury – not with Aang depending on her.
She was Katara, Master Waterbender of the Southern Tribe, and she would not die surrounded by her element.
Calling forth energy reserves she wasn't even aware she possessed, she twirled around at him, hands manipulating the ice around him where he had been rushing forward to finish her off.
As she hardened the ice around his limbs, she shuddered at how close he had gotten.
But she couldn't let him see her fear.
"It's already over!" she said, trying to keep her voice strong. "Aang is gone and you can't hurt him."
He struggled against the ice and she could see his flames, already melting the thin hold she had on him.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Get it together, Katara, you need to find a Plan B.
She glanced wildly around, but found nothing that would help her. She would just have to seal him in more ice and make a run for it. That should buy her enough time.
She wasn't a coward, but she wasn't stupid either. The closer to dawn, the stronger he got, and she could see the sun threating to break the horizon.
As she called forth the snow around her, he broke free of the ice and sent a fire burst towards her. She cried out in surprise and pain as the moisture she had called forth dissipated and the flames singed the soft skin of her palms.
In the split second it took her to find her balance and blink the tears out of her eyes, he was right in front of her, a fist of flames held high above his head.
Her eyes went wide as she met his fierce golden gaze.
She watched as the realization that he had won swept over him – the realization that this was the part when he ended her life.
Horror flitted across his features, and in the second it took him to compose himself, he looked so, so young.
And he was young, she realized. Only a few years older than she, to be sure. They were all so fucking young, and yet here they were.
Deciding the fate of the world.
Surely she wasn't old enough for this. Even though she felt old. She had felt old since, well, forever ago, when she had seen killers for the first time.
Since her first encounter with the Fire Nation.
And now here she was. Staring down the Fire Prince himself.
And he was scared. Quite possibly more scared than she was.
And in that moment, she saw the two of them as the universe's puppets, caught up in something that was so much bigger than the both of them, something that was bigger than all of them, something that would swallow them whole for its own selfish pleasure without a second thought.
A war started by men long dead and finished by children who would soon be dead as well.
It was ironic, really.
He didn't appear to be a killer and she sure as hell wasn't a victim, and yet here they were.
She was suddenly past fear, suddenly over it – over all of it.
She wasn't anyone's puppet, thank you very much. The universe could go fuck itself. This wasn't what she had signed on for.
Caught up in the bitter irony, she let out a harsh, biting laugh.
It echoed through the Spirit Oasis, bouncing off the walls, made louder by the chill in the empty air of the North Pole.
She laughed and laughed until tears were streaming down her face, and Zuko merely stood there, confused to all hell and transfixed by the sight of her.
He had never thought that he would encounter this – surely she was mad.
But as she stood there, laughing herself hoarse in the breaking dawn, she seemed much, much more in control of her life than he was at the moment.
Maybe that's what was so funny.
"What are you laughing at, peasant?" he said, not quite able to inject the right amount of bite into his words, but she was so caught up in whatever was going on inside her own head to notice him.
He was about to end her life, and she didn't even have the good grace to pay attention.
As she heard his words, she managed to look at him. She was still laughing quite forcefully – harsh laughter that seemed to shake her entire body. As her eyes met his, he saw a deep sorrow and he realized that she looked simultaneously young and ancient.
His Uncle had always said that eyes were like the windows to the soul, and as he stared into hers, he couldn't help but wonder what had made her look that way.
Because he had seen that look before in his own reflection.
And then she was straightening up and the moment had passed.
"I have a name, you know," she said, meeting his gaze without fear, even though he still hadn't lowered his fist. She smiled up at him. It was a harsh smile, bitter yet heart wrenching.
It didn't suit her at all, but she wore it well.
"I don't care," he said, and he forced himself not to. He raised his fist a little higher and the flames grew a little brighter – he could see them reflected in her clear blue eyes. "Soon you won't have anything left at all."
She bared her teeth at him as her smile widened.
What the fuck had this girl seen? Lesser men would be cowering before him. But yet here she was.
"Katara," she said simply. "My name is Katara."
She made no attempt to move, but rather looked up at him with the ghost of a bemused smile playing at her lips.
He raised his good eyebrow at her, and she laughed again, soft and harsh, like rusted bells. He hadn't thought such a sound were even possible.
"You can put your fist down, you know. You're not going to kill me."
"What?" he asked, eyes widening slightly in honest surprise.
The syllable was surprisingly innocent.
She fearlessly met his eyes; she was so, so past fear. The smirk on her lips was now dangerously close to cruel, and it looked out of place on her normally warm features.
Since when did he know anything about her features?
"I said," she began again, her tone more severe, cutting like a whip through the frigid air, "That I know you - won't – kill - me."
The way her lips caressed each syllable filled him with a rage, a bright purpose. She looked too smug, and he had to take her down a peg.
Even as his confidence faltered, he squared his shoulders and tried to look as menacing as possible as he drew himself to his full height.
"You would do well to choose your words wisely, peasant," he spat, "and remember just whom exactly you are speaking to. I could – "
He was interrupted by her harsh laughter ringing through the night once more. The wind carried the sound across the bleak landscape, surrounded him with it.
"Oh please, Zuko. I know exactly who I'm talking to."
The sheer nothingness with which she said his name sent his emotions reeling. He had never heard his name uttered in so careless a tone, as if it were nothing more to her than water discarded down the drain. As if he had nothing she wanted.
Her voice was raw and jagged and on the verge. Of what, he wasn't sure. He had never heard her sound this way before.
But then again, he had never seen her fight for her life, either. And throughout their battle, he couldn't help feel a tinge of pride at how much her skills had improved.
What the fuck had that been about? Why should be care about this irritating Water Tribe peasant? She had been a thorn in his side since he had met her, always managing to foil his finely wrought plans.
Yet, he couldn't help admire her for that.
She looked at him oddly, as if knowing she had lost him to his own thoughts, even though this was hardly the time to be introspective. After all, he was supposed to be killing her and whatnot.
He moved his eyes away from her lips so that he could focus on what she was saying.
"I've seen the eyes of killers, Zuko, and you're not one of them. So if you do kill me tonight – which I don't think you even could, but if you do – I'm taking you with me."
She said this with such sincerity, such finality. This peasant – this Katara – had sent him reeling yet again.
"What the fuck are you talking about, you– "
"Well maybe if you would get your royal head out of your ass and actually listen when I'm speaking to you –"
"What are you, my goddamn mother?"
She saw some emotion just behind his eyes as he broke off quickly, but her emotions were completely on edge and she didn't even pause.
The word had cut her as well.
"No. I'm not," she said. Her voice was quiet with emotion for a moment, but then she looked him straight in the eyes and continued as if she had not faltered. "But like I said, if you do kill me, you better believe that I'm taking you with me."
He stared at her in silence, looking deep into her eyes. She was fucking insane, but she was also deadly serious.
She smirked as she saw this realization hit him.
"You know I'm not lying."
"…Yes."
"Good," she nodded, satisfied with his hesitant acceptance. "Because if you do kill me, I'm never going to think of you again. Ever. Obviously not in this life, not in the next, and not in the Spirit World. Neither will Aang or Sokka or anyone that matters. Sure, they'll think of avenging me, and you better believe they will, but they won't give two shits about you."
A smile spread her features then, cold and cruel and calculating.
"But I can guarantee that you'll think of me every day for the rest of your life. Because you're not a killer, Zuko, I can see it in your eyes. But if you try, I'm taking you down with me. You'll never be able to forget, and it'll eat at you. Every day for the rest of your pathetic life. I'll never let you go."
All he could do was stare at her. She stood there as the sun slowly rose over the horizon, its soft light reflected in hair that had long-since fallen out of its braid. She stood straight, head held high – fearless in the face of death, with soot on her face and a devil-may-care smirk on her lips.
In that moment, she didn't look a thing like a Water Tribe peasant.
A little insane, maybe – he knew insane. He knew insane all too well.
Insane and fierce and calculating and wild. Not exactly cruel, but absolutely in control of her own destiny and Agni help whoever got in the way of that.
And most definitely not a peasant.
Come to think of it, she wasn't. He had heard his Uncle mention that her father was the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. That made her something akin to royalty, but in that moment, she looked like so much more than that. She looked divine. She looked incandescent.
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
And what did that even mean?
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. She noticed, and grinned at him.
It was a fearsome thing, and he thought that he could get used to it.
Seriously, what was he thinking? He had just lost the Avatar – again. But at least he had the opportunity to take out someone critical to the Avatar's well being.
But he couldn't do it.
And she had called him on it.
And he didn't care. He didn't care about any of it.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
In the depths of his mind, he could hear his Uncle's laughter.
He glared at her as he lowered his fist and extinguished the flames – a glare that had sent many grown men running for their lives. She merely smiled beatifically at him.
Katara was right, and she knew it. He was sure there would be no dealing with her after this.
Without a word, he turned his back to her and walked away.
Fuck, he swore as he trudged through the snow, his rage melting the snow beneath his heavy leather boots in an audible hiss as he headed towards the warmth and safety of his ship.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He wasn't sure just when he had fallen in love with her - he hadn't even realized he could love.
No, he wasn't sure just when he had fallen in love with her, but now he knew.
He also knew that this had the potential to wreck everything.
"Aaaargh!" he yelled, punching the glacier next to him.
He was rewarded when a pile of snow dropped right on top of his head.
He thanked the universe that his Uncle hadn't been there to witness that.
But Katara had, and she laughed and laughed – a true laugh that rang through the fresh dawn like the bells that called ships home.
XXXXX
That night, as Zuko lay on his cot, her words echoed through his mind.
"I'll never let you go."
Even in the warmth, he shivered.
Just what the hell was he getting himself into? As if he didn't have enough to worry about. Capturing the Avatar, regaining his honor, finally going home…
She didn't fit in with his plan at all. But yet here he was, unable to get the Waterbender out of his thoughts.
With a grunt, he flipped over and willed himself to sleep.
But Katara kept her promise.
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+ So, I have absolutely no idea how long this is going to be.
+ Please review and let me know what you think!
xo Elle