Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: This particular one-shot was inspired by one of mintiflower's prompts for the Zutara Secret Santa over on LiveJournal. I had a lot of really good choices, but I chose to go with "season 3 AU", and basically asked the question, what if it had been Katara instead of Mai who was with Zuko before his coronation? It lands on more of the friendship end of the spectrum, but I tried to keep it light and happy with hints of something more.

Please relax, enjoy, and as always, thank you for reading! :D

This Moment

"Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved." - William Jennings Bryan

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"Today, the Hundred Year War is over. We have gathered here to put the past behind us; to usher in a new era of love and peace…"

Zuko trailed off as he paced back and forth in front of his four-poster bed.

"No, that's not right either!"

The soon-to-be crowned Fire Lord made a frustrated noise of disgust as he raked his fingers through his loose hair.

"Why can't I think of what to say?" he groaned as he closed his eyes and came to stand at the edge of his bed, resting his forehead against one of the posts.

In just a few short hours he was going to be officially crowned Fire Lord and he knew that he would have to say something to all the people gathered to witness the ceremony. Just what he should say, however, was proving difficult to decide on. He kept drilling the possible lines in his head, willing his years of experience with his Uncle to help bring forth some deeply inspirational and monumental speech. No matter what he came up with it always sounded forced and childish, and that was not the note on which he wanted to start his reign.

The more time that passed the more Zuko found himself unconsciously pacing his room. His nerves were starting to get the best of him and it was frustrating. Keeping calm under pressure in the midst of a fight was one thing; public speaking was an entirely different matter. This was his destiny—he was born for this purpose—and yet he was scared as hell. He had been fighting for and dreaming of this day for so long that now that the day was finally here, he wasn't quite sure how to face it.

Growling, he pounded his fist against the post but immediately winced with the shock of pain that shot through his chest. His hand reflexively went to cover the now bandaged lightning wound he had received only a couple of days earlier.

"I leave you for a few hours and already you're making it worse?" a gentle feminine voice teased from behind.

Zuko turned to face the young woman whose life he had tried to protect. Katara's hands were on her hips and she was giving him her best maternal disappointed stare, with a slight smirk playing at her lips.

"Yeah, well, you try thinking of a speech that both inspires and eases peoples' fears," he groused, but anything more he might have said was cut off as another painful jolt to his chest.

Katara was at his side in an instant, taking his free arm and gently guided him to sit on the bed.

"I told you to be careful. Sudden movements only aggravate the wound." Katara's face was full of concern as she gingerly began undoing the bandages.

"It was feeling better this morning. I made it through those simple yoga stretches you showed me just fine. I don't know why it's acting up now."

"Probably because you're so worked up about this ceremony. We can postpone it another day you know."

"No, we've postponed it long enough. I'm fine Katara." He had tried to use a confident, commanding tone, but the skeptical look on Katara's face showed him it wasn't working.

"Right. I'm the healer, remember? I'll be the one to decide that." She returned to removing his bandages as silence descended between them.

Zuko tried to refocus his mind on something other than the feel of Katara's fingers as they brushed his bare chest, but found that rather impossible. Over the past couple of days she had seen to healing his wound personally, and because of this he had found himself spending a lot more alone time with Katara than he ever had before. Despite the circumstances, he found himself enjoying her company—especially now that she wasn't so hostile with him anymore.

His thoughts were derailed as the last of his bandages were removed and Katara drew in a sharp breath at the sight of his wound. Even with her constant efforts it was still pretty raw, and Zuko knew it would be another scar for him to bear. This time, however, he found he wasn't as bothered by it. This scar was his badge of honor.

With a fluid motion of her wrists, Katara pulled water from one of the skins at her waist and placed her water-covered hands on his chest. It was a move Zuko had seen her do many times over the past few days, and the action never ceased to hypnotize him. The cool sensation of the water was a relief as it moved across his chest, repairing the damage that still lingered. Zuko closed his eyes and allowed his body to relax, taking relief in her icy ministrations.

It was then that an appreciative moan escaped Zuko's lips, breaking the silence. Immediately, his eyes snapped open and he could feel his embarrassment bubbling to the surface. He couldn't believe he had made a noise like that in front of Katara.

"Uh…that…I—" Zuko sputtered awkwardly as he searched for a way to try to explain himself.

Katara blinked at him and then a heartbeat later she started giggling. "Better?" she asked when she finally caught her breath.

"Yes," he muttered sheepishly. Zuko was pretty sure his face probably matched the color of the drapes.

Katara beamed at him. She didn't seem to mind the completely idiotic noise he just made, which made him feel somewhat better.

"Well, I think that should do for now, but you have to take it easy," she ordered, easily switching to maternal mode. Katara then returned the water to her skins and produced a clean roll of bandages from a pouch at her side, which she used to re-dress the wound.

"I'll do what I can, but I can't delay the inevitable, Katara."

"I know that, but you received that wound protecting me and I would at least like for it to be properly healed before I leave."

That's right; she's going back the South Pole…

Zuko's mood suddenly plummeted as he realized that over the next few days not only Katara but all his friends would be departing for their respective new roles in the world. The nervous knot in his stomach tightened; he wasn't sure if he was prepared to handle this all alone.

"Zuko, what is it?" Katara was staring up at him from her spot next to him on the bed; her blue eyes were full of concern.

"Nothing," he lied as he stood, no longer comfortable under Katara's searching gaze.

"If it's the ceremony you're nervous about, you're going to be fine."

"That's easy for you to say; you're not the one about to be crowned head of the most hated nation in the world."

"Oh, come on, we both know that you know better than that."

Zuko heaved another sigh in frustration and subconsciously began pacing around the room again.

"Zuko, stop."

He hadn't even notice her move, but Katara had stood and caught his wrist, bringing his pacing to a halt. With a gentle tug she forced him to face her.

"You have got to relax. I know that you think I'm just some Water Tribe 'peasant' but I do know a thing or two about what it's like to make sure things run smoothly. Talk to me," she pressed.

Zuko cringed inwardly at being reminded of the names he had used to call her and felt ashamed. If there was one thing he knew now was that Katara was anything but a peasant.

"That's not what I think."

"What?" Katara angled her head in confusion.

"I don't think you're just some 'peasant'. In the beginning, maybe, but not anymore," he said simply.

"Oh."

That was the only response she seemed able to muster, and Zuko suddenly became very aware of the fact that she was still clutching his wrist; the warmth of her hand was very real and tangible on his skin. He didn't know what it was about the girl in front of him that managed to get underneath his skin, but ever since he had decided to follow the Avatar he had been at odds with her. However, all that changed after he had taken her to face her mother's killer.

Now things were different. They were friends and maybe, if Zuko was honest with himself, something more. The very proof of that was etched into his skin. He had never been so desperate to save anyone in his life. He had tried hard to just pass the action off as nothing more than a friend protecting another friend, but something in him knew that wasn't completely true.

"Katara, I—"

A knock on the door interrupted anything else Zuko was about to say, and he tried his best to staunch the urge to blast fire at whoever was waiting on the other side.

"My Lord Zuko, it is time to get dressed for your coronation."

Zuko recognized the voice of his head male attendant and took in a deep calming breath. It wouldn't be good for him to make it a habit of blasting his servants into oblivion before he was even crowned. He was better than that.

"Yes, give me just a moment," he responded, much more calmly than he really felt.

"I guess that's my cue to leave then," Katara spoke up before Zuko had a chance to finish what he had wanted to say.

He sighed internally. "Yeah, probably."

Smiling genuinely, Katara slid her hand from Zuko's wrist and took his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You're going to be fine. I know it," she said softly with more conviction than he had ever heard from anyone before.

Zuko felt his heart flutter in his chest. All he could do was gape at her, completely dumbfounded. Suddenly he realized he would jump in front of lightning a hundred times over if it meant saving this girl in front of him.

Katara dropped his hand and Zuko immediately missed the warmth and how right it felt having her hand in his. But before she left the room she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Without hesitating, Zuko returned her embrace and pulled her smaller frame tighter against his own. It was the second time she had ever hugged him and, much like the first time, Zuko found that it brought him a sense of peace. This girl—this crazy, impulsive, bossy, powerful, frustrating, and stubborn girl—was truly something else, and Zuko quietly thanked whatever powers in the universe that put her here with him at this very moment.

Just as Zuko wished the moment would last, Katara pulled away. He watched as she made her way to the door.

"Katara?" he called after her.

"Yes?" She stopped just in the doorway of the antechamber.

"Thank you—for healing me," he said warmly, a genuine smile on his face.

A soft, radiant smile graced Katara's features as she shook her head. "No, thank you for saving me."

Zuko's smile only grew bigger as she left the room. Turning to look out the window, Zuko called for his servant to enter. He quickly schooled his features into a more natural expression as his head attendant entered the antechamber followed by two other male servants.

"Are you ready, my lord?" the attendant asked expectantly.

Before turning, Zuko inhaled deeply, much in the way he did every morning in meditation. His emotions were no longer a roiling storm of anxiousness. He knew now what needed to be done. Today he would become Fire Lord as he was always meant to. The war was over and it was time to heal the wounds wrought on this world by his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. Doubt and fear still lingered, but Zuko was confident that with the faith of those closest to him, like Katara, he could do this. The physical fight was over; now it was time to fight for peace.

"Yes, I am."