A/N: So this is the first completely non-canon ship I've ever liked. BUT, LOOK, I MAKE IT CANON-ISH HERE. Here is a series of scenes, both from the anime and a couple extras that I added, making this relationship a little more realistic. I never actually break canon, see. So I hope all you fellow Zutara fans enjoy. The first one takes place when bald Zuko kidnaps her, of course - the first big Zutara moment. Then it's in the cave, etc.; all big Zutara moments that you all should recognize, until you get to the ones I just made up. PLEASE, read and review - this is my first fic for Avatar.

ALSO JUST MAJORLY EDITED IT as of May 2012. Read again?

Words: 4276
Characters: Katara, Zuko
Time: Throughout the series
Genre: Romance

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to whoever owns Avatar: The Last Airbender. Not me.

At the touch of his hands, she felt a spark pass from his palms to her fingertips, a tingle course through her body. Was it fear she felt from him? Anger? Bitterness? For a moment, Katara forgot that he had bound her into helplessness, stolen her treasured necklace, threatened her and her friends. She forgot even that he was the enemy.

She saw only his face, so close to hers, and his glittering golden eyes, full of stories and a past that she would never to understand. In the shadows, the deep red of his scar stole into the night as if he were one with the darkness. Only the light of those vibrant eyes shone through. If that scar truly were gone – would Zuko still be Zuko? What was it that filled him so much hate?

"I'll protect you from the pirates," he hissed, and there wasn't a single drop of sincerity in his words.

Katara's face hardened. Her curiosity, her pity, vanished with the return of her righteous fury. How could she sympathize with him for even a moment, after all the times he'd attacked her friends? He was her enemy, and she would do whatever was in her power to resist him.

"This is water from the spirit oasis," Katara said. "I don't know for sure if it'll help, but…"

Something powerfully unfamiliar glued Zuko's feet to the ground and froze his tensed muscles. Even as she stepped closer, her eyes shining, he couldn't flinch away. Was she speaking the truth? How could this painful warmth be rising in his heart – it was hope, and he couldn't risk hope, not when it was always so violently ripped away.

There is always hope. The words in his head sounded like his uncle's. But now, seeing the young waterbending girl holding up and intricate vial, he heard her voice in his head, too. Despite everything he'd done, Katara believed in him. She thought that he could be redeemed. She could heal the evidence of his past.

Her fingertips barely brushed the cold, smooth skin on the left side of his face. He had never let anyone touch his scar before. So much of the sensation there was gone anyway. But he could still feel her. Trying to make sense of the odd sensation, the pressure of her fingertips without that tickle of skin on skin, Zuko realized. She wasn't scared of him; she wasn't even angry. She was concerned. After everything he had done to her, after all the times he had hurt her, now her heart was opening to him, visible through her clear, honest gaze.

Could he forget his past, his passion, the only life he had ever known? Could he forgive himself, for the wrongs he had committed at the whim of his foolish, empty pride? Only when he looked at her did the thought, the possibility, even cross his mind.

A crash rang out through the crystal cavern. At once he and Katara whipped around to see two people entering their chamber. The moment was broken; Katara rushed from his side to the Avatar's.

At the sight of his uncle, Zuko's muscles suddenly began to function again. He gripped Iroh tightly, the familiarity of his voice a relief from the madness in his heart. Without his mind consciously telling it to do so, his head lifted from his uncle's shoulder to look for Katara.

She was looking at him too from over the Avatar's shoulder. The sadness in her face was painfully evident, and when she disappeared with, the lack of her presence even more so.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost still feel her hand on his face. Would he would ever feel something that kind and gentle again? Zuko straightened and stared into the wide cave ahead. The moment was gone, and it would never return.

He didn't deserve to hope, anyway.

She couldn't stand it anymore. The sight of him sitting by their fire, eating their food, listening to their conversations, as if he had never lied to them, hurt them, tried to kill them. He wasn't the type to change – and she knew it. She had tried to help him once, and all that had gotten her was an near-dead friend.

Katara threw down her dinner and stormed away. She needed a moment under the moon. But her peace was soon interrupted by footsteps, and when she turned around, she saw Zuko pause. His gold eyes shone from the shadows.

"Why don't you trust me?" he asked bluntly. "Everyone else has accepted me. Why not you?"

"Oh, I don't know," she spat back. "Maybe because of all the times you've tried to kill me. To kill Aang!"

He winced visibly. "I've changed, Katara. I swear I have. If you can just trust me, I'll prove it you, I'll - "

"In case you don't remember, I was the first person to trust you! Back in Ba Sing Se!" Katara stalked toward him, glaring, and he took a hurried step backwards, his eyes wide. Her finger shook as she pointed at his chest. "I wanted to help you. I wanted to believe in you. And you took that trust and nearly killed Aang with it! And now I'm supposed to pretend like that's all okay?"

Zuko simply stared. Katara's heart was racing so fast that it was almost difficult to breathe. So she backed down and closed her eyes for a moment.

"I don't think I can do it, Zuko," she said flatly. "I can't forget who you've been. And if you make even the slightest move against Aang - " Her eyes whipped open, her heart beating far past full force once again. "I will end you."

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, but she didn't look back. Something was prickling at the corner of her eyes. Angry as she was, she had started to cry. Katara wiped them away at once. This was infuriating; he was infuriating. She trusted him so little that it hurt.

And what hurt even more – though she forced the thought away the second it occurred – was how much she wanted to trust him, even though she knew she couldn't do it.

The sky was dark and smooth, as deep navy blue as the ocean below them. Thin, overcast clouds obscured any vain glitters from the stars. Only a dim, mellow light guided them, the glow of distant cities and the half-hidden moon.

Zuko watched the girl ahead of him as she sat straight, unmoving, and silent at Appa's reins. But despite her determination, she had been flying for hours into the night now; she had to be exhausted. Zuko, at least, had taken time to rest in the saddle on Appa's back. But she had not rested for even the briefest of moments since they left the others. Zuko was pretty sure he understood what was going through her head right now. That unquenchable fury, not even wild and raging, just a calm pool of hate and anger that was even more dangerous than fire. All she could think about was her vengeance. Finding and killing the man – the Fire Nation man – who had killed her mother.

She was right where Aang wasn't. Even if it was about revenge, she needed it. She needed the closure.

A chilly breeze swept through her hair, making it twist and tangle behind her. Zuko found himself mesmerized by the tiny highlights that glittered within it. Appa gave a great yawned, and Zuko blinked back into reality.

"Katara?" he said. "You have to rest. I know how much you want to find this man. But you still need sleep."

"I need to fly Appa." Her tone invited no questioning, but Zuko matched her stubbornness with a command of his own.

"I'll do it. Get back here, Katara."

For what felt a long time, she didn't speak. Finally, she met his gaze boldly, her clear blue eyes a storm of willpower. "Don't order me around, Zuko. I have to do this."

"I know you do. But you don't have to do it tired and alone."

She glared at him long and hard, searching. For what, Zuko wondered? A flash of despair broke through her brave face, as if she really did want to believe him, but wouldn't do it. Could she really distrust him so much? Was every effort at kindness destined to fail? Why was he so desperate for her to believe him, to trust him, to accept him?

At last, she closed her eyes, and her whole body drooped with tiredness. With a few murmured words to Appa, she crawled over to the saddle, sat next to Zuko, and leaned her head back into open air. He noticed that she left ample space between them. A large gust of wind swept through the air, and she shivered as the temperature dropped several degrees.

"Are you cold?" asked Zuko, watching her curl her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around them.

"No. Don't start firebending. A light could give us away."

"I know," said Zuko. "How long can Appa fly without one of us up there?"

Katara shrugged, her eyes still closed. "A little bit. Not for too long."

She was shivering again. She placed her head on her knees, hiding her face from him, her whole body trembling. Perhaps it was more than just shivers, but she was silent, so Zuko said nothing. But he didn't like to see her so uncomfortable, so alone.

Some unfamiliar instinct drew him closer to her. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, bringing her close. She tensed at once, her skin like ice against his. Though she barely moved her head, she managed to look up at him. "Why are you so warm?"

"I'm a firebender. It just… happens."

Her cheek rested against his shoulder. Her eyes were cool, tired, and confused. "Someone's got to fly Appa," she mumbled.

"I'll do it. In just a minute, after you've warmed up."

"I'm warm."

"Take a break, Katara. I'll do it."

All Zuko could hear in response was a quiet murmur, far too soft for him to make out the words. Before long, her head fell heavily from his shoulder to his chest. He could feel every steady, deep breath that she took, and she was so still, resting comfortably against Zuko's body and in his arms. In the soft light, her beautiful features were lightly shadowed. He was suddenly vividly aware of every place their bodies touched, from his arm around her shoulders, her lips so near his collar, her hands curled above his racing heart.

Appa gave another long yawn. Zuko sighed – he couldn't stay here all night. Moving slowly and carefully, Zuko slid away from Katara and placed her as carefully and comfortably as he could against the bare saddle. Supplies served as her pillow She looked so small, so lonely. Quickly Zuko shrugged out of his jacket and tucked it around her as a blanket.

Once at Appa's reins, he was left with nothing to do but contemplate, wondering why her happiness, her comfort, so intrigued him. He couldn't stop himself from looking back at her so many times – but it was only to make sure she was still asleep.

Katara threw her hands down, releasing the man and giving him control of his body again. She turned and stormed away, the rain pounding down like icy daggers; she made no effort to stop it any longer. After a moment, she realized that Zuko was hurrying to catch up with her. He caught her shoulders and stopped her, both of them sliding a little bit in the slick mud. "Katara," he said urgently, his piercing eyes flicking between each of hers. "What was that? What did you do to him?"

"It's called bloodbending," muttered Katara. She avoided his sharp gaze, staring instead at the dull ground. "An old witch showed me how to do it. But I swore I'd never use it. I only used it once before, to save Aang and Sokka. And now I used it just for my own selfishness. I had to cause that man pain."

In her own voice, she could hear what she was trying so hard to suppress. But it was far too obvious. She spat rage and self-disgust with every word, furious at herself, at the situation, at everything.

She was too weak for revenge, yet too angry for forgiveness, leaving her trapped and helpless, as helpless as she had been when she was that scared little girl in her dying tribe so many years ago. Anguished, Katara pressed her hands to her forehead.

Warm hands closed tightly around her wrists. Zuko pulled her hands away from her face so that their eyes met. Understanding glittered in his usually guarded golden eyes.

"Don't blame yourself," he said, his voice low and rough like always. "You gave him what he deserved, and you used the strongest weapon that you possess. A monster like him deserves no kindness and mercy, not from you."

Katara nodded slowly. She didn't know how long they stood there, so close together in the pouring rain, his hands still around her shaking wrists. At last, as one, they turned to head back down the path again. It was so wet now that streams of muddy water pulled at their feet like a river. Neither spoke until they reached Appa again. Zuko extended a hand to help her into the saddle, and though she didn't need the assistance, she took it.

"Thank you," she murmured, unsure if he even heard.

He nodded. There was no need to speak any more. He understood, and that was enough.

Nothing else in the world could ever feel quite like this. Under Sozin's Comet, his blood boiled over with raw power. Sheer exhilaration swamped him, as pure and fierce as when he had stood under the flames of the dragons. No one could stop him. Not even Azula. This was the moment he was destined for, he knew now. This was where he would repay all his debts.

He thrust his hands forward and created a wall of fire. A fast forward kick sent it roaring toward his sister, who matched his strength with blue flames of her own. But something was wrong with her. She wasn't moving decisively enough, smoothly enough. She was relying on nothing but her inherent power, whereas Zuko planned every step, every punch. Despite the limitless power flooding his veins, his head and his heart remained clear and cool. Perhaps that was Katara's influence.

Azula's fire vanished, and Zuko tensed, ready to take the opening. But her deranged eyes flashed away from him and toward Katara. Her sick smile broadened.

Zuko saw Azula move as if in a dream. The crackling, silvery-blue lightning that flew from her fingertips shot – not towards him – but toward Katara.

Without thinking, without deciding, and without hesitating, Zuko ran, throwing himself in front of the stream of electricity. There was no time to prepare himself or channel it back to her. The only thing left in his mind was not Katara, not Katara, not Katara. Azula had taken too much for him to let her take that as well.

The blast caught him straight in the chest, instantly paralyzing him; pain ripped through every fiber of his being and made his vision go black. He barely even felt himself fall to the ground.

But he could still hear the world around him, even if he couldn't see. He heard Azula's crazed laugh, high-pitched and out-of-control. But louder even than that, he heard Katara scream his name, panicked. Zuko clung to her voice. It was all that kept him conscious, desperately imagining her face matched with the sound, the only thing that could continue to bind him to life.

Something was happening around him, something between Katara and Azula, but he couldn't figure out what. Katara's voice was still ringing in his ears.

And then, suddenly, all the noise stopped. Blinded by pain, Zuko had no idea what was happening. Who had won? Who was still alive? If Katara had died – but no, he could not even imagine that, it was not possible –

But then he felt small hands scramble to open his shirt, tremble against his aching chest. Katara's hands. She spoke frantic words, saying his name again and again, and though he longed to comfort her, to open his mouth and respond, his body wouldn't listen. Suddenly, something cold and smooth poured from her touch. It flowed into every muscle, working like an artist to undo the knots that had frozen them. With the gentle ebb and flow of a river nudging his body back to the shore, Zuko could breathe again. His vision returned in blurry stages. First he could see only her face, her bright blue eyes, wide and concerned above him. Her hands were still on his chest, but there was no more magic glowing at her fingertips.

"Zuko?" Her voice was intense and focused, but with a clear note of distress. "Zuko, talk to me. Please…"

"Katara…" he mumbled. It was all he could manage. She grasped his hand tight, nodding encouragingly. He watched her bite a tremulous lip and try to say something, but then she just leaned down and wrapped her arms around him.

He couldn't hug her back, but he could move his hand enough to touch her elbow, hoping she would understand. Soon he felt Katara's arms slide further around his back and lift him into a sitting position, which at once made his head throb violently. His chest, however, was no longer aching; Katara's healing had obviously done its job there. Noticing him wince and place a hand to his forehead, Katara put her fingertips on his temples. More cool, watery healing soothed that pain, too.

"Thank you," he said, his voice somewhat raw and scratchy.

"No," she said softly. "Thank you, Zuko." Katara hugged him again, and it was like her embrace filled him with life again. He placed his arms around her too, as tightly as he could, trying to tell her something that not even his mind could put a name to, much less his tongue.

With Katara's help, he stood up, and the pair of them stumbled over to where Azula sat bound to a water-grate. Zuko watched as his sister panted and gasped, her eyes wide and darting from side to side. Her mouth moved as if she were trying to speak, but no logical words came out, only spurts of blue fire. She was clearly – finally – beaten.

Beside him, Katara leaned her head hesitantly against his shoulder, as if she were unsure whether or not he had the strength to support her. Zuko rubbed her arm bracingly. They stood there together, unmoving and silent, for quite some time.

He had come so far since the easy days of his youth. So far even in just the past year. He could never have done it alone. He could have ended up like Azula, mad and friendless and broken. If not for certain people…

"I'm sorry, Zuko," Katara said softly. Turning his head, Zuko noticed that her eyes were closed. A single tear fell across her cheek. "I'm sorry… for everything you've had to go through."

There was nothing he could say. Words were not necessary between them now; there was no need. He simply nodded.

They didn't move from that spot or speak again until the sun began to rise as the comet began to fall. He would have missed the strength the comet gave him, but instead, he found it somewhere else. Katara's arm around his waist. Something about her touch filled him with energy.

Eventually, Zuko remembered that they were needed – the war was not over yet. The Avatar needed them. But as he turned away from his sister, Katara turned with him, still supporting him as they walked together out of the gates.

He caught sight of her reflection first. Staring blankly out the tall windows that overlooked the entirety of the Fire Nation, Zuko saw her appear on the glass like a spirit, or a goddess. He whipped around at once.

She looked radiant in an elegant dress in the Fire Nation style, though it was blue rather than red. She wore her mother's necklace like always, her hair down and wildly wavy, her eyes twinkling at him.

"You look… really nice," she said, and he noticed that her cheeks were the slightest bit pinker than usual. "You really do look like a prince."

"Not like you. You're like a princess," Zuko said without thinking, pulling at the collar of his ceremonial robes. Then he, too, started to blush. Hurriedly he tried to backtack. "I just meant – no, I mean, I didn't mean it like – argh." Why must he make a fool of himself now? Saying she looked like a princess, like his princess -

"Didn't you?"

Zuko stared at her. She was so close, looking up at him with determined eyes despite her red cheeks. As if in a dream, Zuko took her hands. He stopped to take a breath – and then her lips were on his. Her hands, too, cupped his face without hesitation. Zuko's arms found their way around her waist.

So this was it. This was why he had wanted so badly for her to trust him, why her hand was the one that saved him, why whenever he saw her he hoped she was smiling. Somehow she tasted as sweet as the sun, and a desperate love swept over him like a tidal wave. If he had the choice, he'd never let her go, never lose this moment, feeling nothing but her and hearing nothing but his racing heart echoing in his ears.

"I'll be the first to cheer for you, Fire Lord Zuko," she breathed once she drew away. "Are you ready?"

"If I have you, I'm ready for anything."

He knew it was trite, but he didn't care. And neither, it seemed, did Katara. Her arms slipped around his shoulders and gripped him tight.

"Katara, I…" Zuko's mind whirled as he tried to describe in words what was going on in his heart. How could he explain? What would he even say? That he loved her, and he had no idea how or when or why it happened, but he did, and he never wanted to live without her? It sounded right in his head, but every time he opened his mouth, he just couldn't figure it out.

She kissed his scarred cheek. Pleasant chills swept across his skin. Far, far, away, he heard the bells that signaled the start of the ceremony, and Katara jumped at the sudden noise. "We can talk after," she said quickly. "I just – I had to…"

This time it was Zuko who kissed her. "Go," he told her, before realizing in order for her to do that, he'd have to let her go. Regretfully he removed his arms, his heart still pounding. She squeezed his hand, smiled, and hurried away. As he watched her go, he forced himself to calm down, to remember what was ahead. Facing his nation as their new Fire Lord. It was a heavy burden, one he had only ever dreamed he would have to bear.

But now he knew he wouldn't have to bear it alone. And when the crest was lowered onto his head, he rose to scores of cheering friends and countrymen, the Avatar at his side. Zuko looked straight at Katara. Her eyes were shining more than anyone else's, full of memories and promises.

"You are now as one. Together your hearts will beat, together your hands will rule. Rise, Fire Lord and Lady, Zuko and Katara!"

The applause was deafening. Their wedding was even more glorious than Zuko's coronation. Katara traveled dazed and awed throughout it all, and she knew Zuko did too; if they had had their way, it would have been a quiet affair, close friends and family only in a beautiful field somewhere. But he was the Fire Lord, and she a famous war hero. They would never know anonymity again.

So instead they were married amongst garlands of fire lilies, thousands of fireflies as their candles, acrobatic firebenders creating spectacle after spectacle in the sky. Waterbenders, too, carved ice sculptures of the couple down to the finest detail, glittering like gigantic diamonds. Katara's eyes widened when she saw their work.

"Look at that, Zuko! Look at how precise they are!" she said. His hand was warm against her lower back. He pointed above them, too, where colorful blasts of fire drew the symbol of the Fire and Water nations.

Zuko's uncle Iroh served the tea, and Hakoda of the Southern Water tribe kept a careful eye on Fire Lord all evening long, though Katara could tell he approved. Smiling slightly, she touched the new piece of jewelry she wore at her neck. Her mother's engagement necklace she had taken off and stored among her most prized possessions, for now she wore the one Zuko gave her. He had followed the tradition of her people and carved it himself. It always felt warm to the touch, just like he did.

After sunset, Katara and Zuko crept away from the festivities. Katara's heart beat faster and faster with every step they took, hand in hand.