Summary: Katara forgives Zuko, as told by the elements. These are the four hidden moments that defined them. Zuko/Katara.

(Someone) Worth Saving

(fire)

The sky was empty, as if it had been painted over with lead. Had it not been for the dwindling campfire, there would not have been enough illumination for Zuko to see the willowy frame of Katara. But he could, and the flickering glow of the flames made him acutely aware of two features lining her expression: the glint of ice in her eyes and the taut set of her jaw. Surprise at first, freezing into hatred – a mirror reflecting the moment he betrayed her in Ba Sing Se.

Zuko swallowed before taking a step towards her; ferociously, with all the rhythm and grace of a flame blazing out of control. "Step back," he said. "I've got it from here."

He flexed his hands and drew in several deep breaths. He could feel fire surging through his veins, it's energy spilling onto his fingertips and into the air around him. He guided it, slowly, carefully, until it simmered around the logs. Then, with a twist of his wrist, the campfire erupted to life.

Katara jerked backwards and scowled at Zuko. Smoke spiralled above them in thick, murky tendrils. "You -" she sputtered furiously. "Do you have peanuts for a brain? Are you trying to announce to the entire Fire Nation that we're here?" Shaking her head and inhaling loudly, she continued. "Ugh, we're sitting turtle-ducks with all that smoke."

Zuko folded his arms behind his back as he glanced upwards; wisps and wisps of silver bled into the sky before ebbing away. I may as well have made a sign saying the Avatar is here, he thought, frustrated. Despite this, he cried out defensively: "The fire was about to go out! I was helping."

"Just like you wanted to help us by sending an assassin after Aang?" Katara retorted, her voice stinging scorpion-bees.

Zuko stiffened. "I sent him before," he told her desperately, his voice frantic for her forgiveness – for anything other than arctic indifference. "It was a mistake; I know that now. I've changed, I'm good. I swear I'm not going to fall out of line."

"Fine," Katara said, acerbic. "But next time you feel like 'helping me' just stay away."

Zuko sighed, taking a tiny step towards her. "I – I'm sorry, okay? I don't expect you to like me, let alone trust me." He frowned. "But…could you at least tolerate me?"

The coils of smoke around them shifted violently as Katara thrust her arms into the air, then onto her hips. "Oh, you want me to tolerate you? After everything you've put us through?" She rolled her eyes. "Sure. You know what? While we're at it, let's go find Azula and invite her to have tea with us."

"Fine," Zuko huffed and he glared at her. "Forget I said anything."

For everything life had thrown – no, hurtled – at him, Zuko should have been used to the crippling sensation of shame; to the way it bubbled underneath his skin and scorched any flimsy shreds of pride he possessed, sizzling and sizzling until all pieces had crumbled to ashes. But he wasn't, and the feeling of it, coupled with pangs of hurt and embarrassment, immobilised him.

Stricken, Zuko searched Katara's face with his eyes. He longed to see the girl from the cave, the one radiating forgiveness, who had made him feel hope despite his imprisonment. She had vanished though, and he noticed how differently she burned for him now: all harsh lines and raw hatred.

Bombarded with regret, Zuko stormed off towards his Appa. Nothing I do will make this right, he thought, why should I even bother. This thought was affirmed moments later, when he passed Katara and heard her mumble: "Entitled jerk."

(air)

At first, Zuko thought the cold permeating through the campsite was a result of his time spent inside the Boiling Rock. He reasoned, whilst breathing hot air into his hands, that after days spent circled by lava anywhere else would feel freezing to him. It wasn't until later on in his watch, once he caught a glimpse of Karara shivering against Appa, that he considered others were feeling the chill as well.

Zuko closed his eyes and embraced the slow thrum of fire-bending. Sparks pooled at the back of his throat and he exhaled deeply, cloaking Katara with the heat of his breath. Slowly, warmth blossomed around them, stemming from his lips in ribbons of hot air. He lost himself in the sensation, in the cadence of his lungs rising and falling, in, and then out…

"What are you doing?!"

The sharpness of the question startled Zuko and he gasped, the rhythmic hum of his breathing collapsing inside his stomach. His eyes flew open and saw a fuming, upright Katara. "I'm warming up the air around you," he said. "It should help you sleep."

Katara's eyes narrowed at him. "I didn't ask you to do that."

"I know that." Zuko sighed. "But a thank-you never hurt anyone."

"Thank-you, your fieriness," Katara snapped, whip-like. Zuko watched her shoulders bristle in anger. "I'm honoured you'd use your bending to help a southern peasant like me."

"Look, I could have just as easily chosen to burn you!" Zuko retorted in frustration, and they both froze. The only movement was Katara's eyes widening into two pale blue coins. He had always been able to see straight through her – she was as transparent as the water she wielded – but in that moment, with only the harshness of his words hanging between them, Zuko saw nothing in her stare.

He gritted his teeth. Damnit, what is it about this girl – why can't she just accept I'm trying to make amends? Seconds later, he muttered those thoughts aloud: "Can't you see I'm trying to make things better?"

"Maybe you are trying," Katara whispered, hesitant. "But burning me, burning my friends – that's always been the easy choice for you."

The breeze cooled around them, the heat from earlier dissolving like powder in water. Zuko shivered. "I thought it was my only choice. I thought it was fate. What don't you understand about that?"

"I understand it just fine," Katara grumbled, and she fell back onto Appa; the sky-bison stirred and blinked down at them. "I just don't like it." She rolled over so she was facing away from Zuko and muttered into a pillar of white fur: "Or you."

Water and fire – as long as they both existed, they would oppose each other. Zuko stared at Katara – her back was hunched up and trembling – and wondered if that was their destiny. Am I, the volatile prince of the fire nation, fated to do nothing but burn her? Seconds later, Zuko banished the idea with a shake of his head. The quality of her stillness, the fierceness of her loyalty, the warmth in her smile – those were all worth drowning for. He slid his hand across his face, allowing his fingers to brush the edges of his mottled red scar. I've beaten the odds before, he reminded himself.

So, determined and resolute, Zuko coated his mouth with flames and heated the air once more.

(earth)

Zuko watched the ground beneath Katara disappear and, for the first time, he had a chance to steady her. Sheets of rain fell around the pair and they stared at the place they'd confronted Yon Rha through a shimmering haze of grey. Yon Rha had stained the earth with his grovelling, bending it with the force of his knees and hands while he was collapsed pathetically in front of them.

"After all this time…" Katara whispered, raindrops sliding down her nose and into her mouth as she spoke. She quivered like a leaf in the breeze. "After all this time…he walked away." She tilted her head and faced Zuko. Everything about her expression was hollowed out – the vibrant blue gleam of her eyes had dulled, the bow of her lips had thinned, the dimples on her cheeks had creased into shadows. He balled his fists and turned away. I'm the last person who should comfort her. "Zuko," she continued, her voice strangled. "Can you please look at me?"

"I – uh – sure." Startled, Zuko glanced awkwardly up at Katara. Tendrils of brown hair had unravelled in the rain and they clung to the sides of her face. She was cocooned in tiny droplets of water, appearing to Zuko like the rainfall was reaching out to embrace her. He ached to hug her, too.

"I need to see you," Katara gasped loudly. It was then Zuko realised she was sobbing – and that it had been tears, not rain, which had stuck her hair to her cheekbones. She leant forward and gripped his shoulders tightly. "I need to see you…otherwise I'll just see him – Yon Rah." She paused and swallowed noisily. "That coward…he was the last person my mother saw, wasn't he?" Setting his jaw, he nodded. "She deserved better."

"I know the hands of a coward took Kya from you," Zuko began solemnly. "But she died with honour."

Katara dropped Zuko's shoulders like she'd been electrocuted. "Honour? She died kneeling over to fire nation scum! Tell me, Zuko, where exactly is the honour in that?"

Before responding, Zuko took a moment to collect his thoughts and piece together everything he had learned about Kya. "Your mother died to protect you," he told her, almost unable to recognise the comforting lilt in his tone. "Without her sacrifice you never would have lived to meet Aang. Everything you've done, all the goodness you've spread, it never would have been possible without Kya making the choice she did." Blinking rapidly Katara stepped closer to Zuko. Nervous, he tugged at a strand of sopping black hair and inhaled deeply. "I've seen it with my own eyes, Katara. By watching you, I've seen just how honourable her death was."

Katara ignited like daylight at his words. Zuko watched the life return to her eyes until they gleamed the clear blue of a summer sky. The tiniest of smiles broke on her lips, and it pierced the darkness of her expression like the first rays of dawn. Later, Zuko would think back on this moment and remember it as the beginning of their friendship – as the very first time Katara shared a piece of her warmth with him.

Katara ran her thumb along the ridges of her throat and against the betrothal necklace. "You have no idea how much that means to me. No idea at all."

As her smile grew, Zuko felt an answering smile erupt on his own lips. Side by side in the rain, with their arms touching just slightly, the pair watched silently as the water beat against the dirt – slowly and surely removing all traces of Yon Rha's presence from their tiny fraction of earth.

(water)

Zuko's chest twinged with the lingering sensation of lightning scorching his flesh – it had been days since Azula had struck him down and the pain of her attack still echoed through him. Brows furrowed, he tugged at the bandages coiled around his stomach; they wouldn't budge. He sighed in frustration before collapsing back into the folds of his bed, wisps of jet-black hair haloing his face against the pillow.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Katara called out from the doorway, leaning against its wooden frame with a hand on her hip.

"What does it look like? I'm changing my dressing," Zuko replied warily. "Well, trying to." He sat up and glowered at the bandages. "Why'd you have to wrap me up so tight, anyway?"

Katara raised her eyebrows as she stepped into the room. "It looks to me like you're disobeying a direct order."

"An order from who?"

"From me. Your healer," Katara told him, sitting down beside him. With a swipe of her palm against his forehead, she felt his temperature. "I told you not to touch your wound." She sighed and placed a hand on his chest. "Now lie back down, I need to check for any infections."

Long, slender fingers began to delicately remove his bandages. "This is interesting," Zuko remarked. "I was under the impression a Fire Lord doesn't obey anyone but himself."

"Not if you're here," Katara told him gently, her eyes tracking the white bands she was unravelling. "When it comes to this room, I'm the one in charge." She paused to remove the last of the gauze. "Got it?"

Zuko flinched as the air nipped his exposed skin. Frowning, he said: "You'll throw a snowball in my face if I say otherwise, so it's not like I have a choice."

"A snowball?" Katara teased. "Zuko, you're injured. At most, it'd be a splash of water on your back."

Zuko rolled his eyes at her. "Lucky me."

Katara didn't respond. Instead, Zuko felt the pulse of her healing energy along his veins. It ebbed and flowed like waves underneath skin, eventually landing on the blackened mark of his injury. Not this again, he thought as an eddy of pins-and-needles whirred to life on his stomach.

"Katara, stop," Zuko said with sigh.

Katara narrowed her eyes and the prickling sensation intensified. "I think I have it this time," she said, her lip curled in determination.

"You said that yesterday, and the day before."

"I really think I have it though."

"Katara…"

She dropped her hands to her sides and regarded the scar on his stomach mournfully. "If I keep trying, I know I'll be able to heal it completely." Zuko watched the specks of light blue in her eyes shimmer and shake. He swallowed. "Please, Zuko," she pleaded softly. "It's there because of me, you have to let me fix it."

Zuko shook his head stubbornly, his chin set into marble. "This isn't a scar from your icicle shards, this is from lightning - from Azula."

"But if I'd just reacted quicker – no, if I'd just reacted at all – it wouldn't be there." The words were an anguished murmur spoken from trembling lips. Zuko could see her throat constrict as she fought back sobs. She grabbed a fistful of blankets and clasped them tightly; he watched the whites of her knuckles bloom. "I should have done something."

"Listen to me, Katara." As Zuko spoke, tears began fluttering down Katara's face and onto the sheets in wet splotches. Suddenly nervous, he stared at his legs. "I – uh. I've never said anything like this before," he paused and licked his lips. "But…back in the cave… at Ba Sing Se, you offered to heal the scar on my face. The mark of my banishment. You know, the one from my father…" He curled his toes and groaned. "Ugh, why am I saying all this? You know what I'm talking about." Pausing, Zuko sighed. "Anyway – uh – well it was the first time someone thought a part of me was worth saving." A beat of silence, then another. "Someone apart from Uncle, that is." Hesitantly, he glanced up at her. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that it meant a lot to me, and if having this scar means a part of me saved you…that's okay." He cleared his throat. "Uh, more than okay, I mean."

"Zuko," Katara whispered softly, biting her lip. Fresh tears slid down her face, incandescent in the light of the room. They tainted her cheekbones a glossy silver. Zuko couldn't help but marvel at her, and the sheer size of her heart – he realised, perhaps for the first time, just how much she bled for the cuts of others.

He glared at her, confused. "What's wrong with you? Why are you still crying? That should have made you feel better!"

"Oh, Zuko. No, no. Look at me, I'm smiling."

Zuko had seen a number of great and beautiful things in his life. The golden spirals of Ran and Shaw's flames; the magnificent view of the night sky on Appa's back; the look of pride on Iroh's face when he joined Team Avatar – but none of them compared to Katara's smile. It was dazzling, stretching across her entire face like a crescent moon – only brighter, much brighter.

Zuko blinked, owlish. "You're…crying because you're happy?"

"You – you are such a blockhead! How could you not have understood?" Shaking her head, Katara traced the edges Zuko's cheek with her index finger. Gently, silently, she drew lines around his scar and cupped it in her palm. He froze. "It wasn't just your scar I wanted to heal. Even back then, every part of you was worth saving."

A/N: So, I absolutely love Zuko/Katara but this was my first attempt at writing them. Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated!