Dancing with Flames
Dancing...it had been like dancing. He, Azula, and the Avatar had danced across the rooftops and through the streets. Soon the avatar's friends, the water tribe peasants and the little girl in green, joined in the deadly show; winding their way through the streets. They had cornered her; a line of traitors and enemies, she had called it. She had put up her hands, claiming defeat. He had barely seen her move, had only seen the jets of blue fire as they shot towards his uncle. Seen his uncle spin backwards, felt the horrendous pain in his own body, as if he had been the one hit.
He crouched on the ground, squeezing his eyes shut, not wanting to look. He heard the water tribe girl call out, saying something to him, but he couldn't understand her words. Go away! He shouted at her, but she persisted, even laying a head on his shoulder. He shouted again for her to leave, how dare she touch him, spinning around with a fist full of flames. His head spun as he spun, sending the world careening around him, but his vision was clear enough to see the blue-clad girl standing feet away.
He looked up, bleakly wondering in his confusion how her arms were so long to reach him, but it was not her gentle hand on his shoulder, and not her beautiful face above his own. Beautiful...had he really just thought that? He vainly tried to focus his blurring vision on the image above him. His uncle's worried face was the last thing he saw before everything went black.
Katara leans on the side of Appa's saddle, thinking about what had just occurred. She watched it happen as if it was in slow motion. She had seen Azula shoot her flames at Iroh. He had seemed to almost waterbend with the blue flames, spinning around with the tails of water colored fire trailing him, and sending it back at the fire nation girl. But she had been quick, and as the old man was spinning she had sent her second bolt, not at him or any of Katara's friends, but at Zuko.
He had stumbled and fallen, crouched with his eyes closed tightly, she had guessed from pain. She had stepped towards him, calling out that she was a healer and could help. He had shouted for them to go away, and at his fierceness she stepped back, but his uncle had not. He had stepped forward; placing a hand on his nephew's shaking shoulder.
Zuko had spun around; swinging a fist undoubtedly intended to be full of fierce fire, but only containing the weakest flame. He had teetered for a moment staring at her with confused, blurring eyes, before he looked towards his uncle. His face flashed with unexpected surprise upon seeing his uncle standing beside him, before their sworn enemy had crashed to the ground, unconscious.
She still doesn't know what had moved her to turn and sprint for Appa, not calling for her friends and brother to follow, but to stay and protect their fallen enemy. She shakes off her thoughts, bringing Appa to a skidding stop in the middle of the abandoned village and jumping off, racing for the group huddled together around the fallen prince.
Aang looks up sharply, "Katara! I..I don't think he's doing well..."
Sokka grabs her and drags her away before she can answer, whispering fiercely. "Katara! What the heck do you think you're doing?!"
Katara yanks her arm away from her clingy brother, glaring at him defiantly. "I'm helping an injured person, Sokka!"
Her brother points wildly at Zuko, his motions growing wilder as he rants on. "Yeah, and that 'injured person' is Zuko! Prince Ponytail! The guy who kinda wants to capture Aang and send him off to the crazy firelord! The guy who's been tracking us for months and wants. to. kill us!"
Katara stomps her foot angrily, "I know that Sokka! I'm not going to heal him unless he's dying!" she looks away, towards Aang, who is still hovering around Zuko with Iron. "Somehow...it feels like he needs to live. For Aang's sake. I...can't really explain it."
Sokka sighs; he knows he won't win this one. "Fine. But! The moment he looks like he might hurt you or Aang, he's gone." He stops off towards Appa, muttering about making room for Prince Ponytail and his crazy uncle.
Katara watches him go, whispering to herself, "This is for Aang. I promise." she turns and quickly makes her way towards the rest of the group, not noticing Toph—who was standing a bit closer than Katara would have preferred had known she was there.
The earthbending prodigy pushes off the wall she was leaning against, her pale eyes staring sightlessly after the hurried waterbender. "Yeah..." she whispers before trailing after her, "But is that the only reason, Sugar-queen?"
Katara walks quickly towards the unconscious firebender, slowing considerably as she nears. Iroh glances back at her, giving her a grim smile that gives her feet the courage to move on. She kneels beside her enemy turned...turned she didn't know what. He wasn't an enemy—at the moment—but he wasn't exactly a friend either. She shakes her head slightly, clearing away the thoughts she'll have to sort through later.
Barely glancing at him for the moment, she turns to Iroh. "Can he be moved?"
Iroh glances at her, surprised. His eyebrows raise in question, but he nods slowly.
Katara nods decisively, quickly taking charge. "Toph, can you earthbend him carefully onto Appa? Try not to move him too much."
Toph nods and bends the earth around Zuko skywards with a few quick jabs, until she has a floating bed of dirt upon which the stricken firebender lays. The expert bender glides it carefully over the street and towards Appa. Aang leaps up and follows, helping to guide the earthen bed onto the giant sky bison. Katara stands, offering a hand up to the Prince's uncle.
He climbs to his feet, but does not let go when she turns to leave. She turns back to him, surprised, before meeting confused and weary eyes. The old man looks her directly in the eyes, holding her gaze before asking, "Why are you doing this?"
Katara stares back, surprised by the fierceness of his gaze combined with the soft worry in his voice. She looks away, "I don't know."
Iroh releases her hand, sinking into a deep bow. "We are forever in your debt. Thank you."
Katara nods, bowing back before motioning for him to follow quickly. They climb on Appa just as Toph dumps the rock bed, free from its load, off the bison's other side. Aang climbs onto the neck of his beloved pet and friend and flicks the reigns, sending them rocketing into the sky.
Aang carefully guides Appa while Toph sits quietly, no doubt lost in her own world. Sokka and Iroh discuss something in low voices, occasionally glancing at Zuko. Katara glances back at the village one last time before turning to the boy lying unconscious in the furthest corner of the saddle.
She calls Iroh over and together they carefully slide the top of his earth kingdom robe off his injured shoulder, revealing blackened and charred flesh beneath. Katara gasps slightly, and Iroh closes his eyes briefly, flinching. She looks over at him, wondering at the flicker of memory in his eyes. Had something like this happened before to Zuko? Her eyes fall on the scar crossing the prince's face. Of course, how could she have been so ignorant? For the first time, she studies the scar, and Zuko's face. It was not a bad-looking face, even with the scar. In fact, Katara thinks, the scar almost makes his face stronger, more handsome. She startles at her own thoughts, turning away to bend cool water from her water skin to hide her blush.
Katara carefully bends the fresh water onto the wound, careful to keep her healing powers dormant. She said she would heal him, but she didn't say that she was going to give him a free ride. Unless it was endangering his life, he would heal the hard way. He had chased them for ages, after all, and tried to capture Aang. She wasn't ready to completely forgive him yet.
As she holds the water in place she examines the rest of him, keeping her thoughts strictly medical. He is sweating; a few longer strands of his short dark hair plastered to his unusually pale skin, pale even for him. His normally fierce eyes are tightly closed, his breath coming as shallow hisses coming from behind tightly clenched teeth. Katara stares at him in wonder. How is it that he could be unconscious and in obvious great pain, and yet not make a single sound?
Unbeknownst to her, Toph is thinking along the same line. It's not as good as dirt, but she can feel some vibrations through the hard bottom of the saddle. She considers what she knows about the situation. Back when Katara and Sokka had been talking, she had sensed that Katara wasn't entirely telling the truth. Yes, she had felt like Aang needed Zuko, but Toph got the feeling that wasn't the only reason Katara had wanted to help her enemy. The problem was, she didn't think Katara realized what that reason was. Heck, she wasn't even sure Katara realized there was a second reason!
There had been something from Zuko too, just before he had passed out. He had looked at Katara, and his heartbeat had changed. She couldn't be sure what it was, he had passed out to soon after, but it was definitely something she might enjoy paying attention to in the upcoming future. She didn't know what, but something was going on between those two, something they themselves didn't quite know was going on. And maybe she didn't know what, but she was determined to find out.
Everything hurt, everywhere. It felt like his body was on fire, and his shoulder was sitting in the heart of the embers. Azula...she had hit Uncle! He had to help him! Zuko jerks upwards, his eyes jumping open. The world swims; it feels like an extreme weight is sitting on his chest, he can hardly breathe. He gasps for breathe, he has to help Uncle! He had been hit! But then, why was he here? His uncle's face swims above him; his arms pushing Zuko back down. He tries to resist, but found he is already falling. His strength gone, he allows himself to be lowered back down. He squints, trying to see around him, but his vision is quickly fading again.
He looks around the darkening place for any indication of danger, anything that could harm him or his uncle. His eyes find blue ones, bright pools of light that seem to stare into his soul, stripping back his defenses. They made him feel safe, made him feel strong. He would be strong; he couldn't afford to look weak. Not in front of anyone, especially not those eyes. He had to be strong for them. The world darkens until they are all that's left, and then soon, they are gone as well.
Katara watches Zuko close his eyes again. She almost sighs in relief, before catching herself. There had been nothing good about him lapsing back into unconsciousness. But it had been unnerving, how he had stared at her. He had looked directly into her eyes, as if she was his lifeline. As if she was the one keeping him alive, like she was the one he had to fight for. For a moment, she was the only thing he was focusing on. And she couldn't say she wouldn't have stopped it if it had continued.
But there had been no recognition in those once-fierce eyes. That was what worried her the most. He hadn't recognized her, one of the people he had devoted his life to trying to capture for the past few months. He had recognized his uncle, but not her. For some reason, it pained her. For him not to recognize her. But she buries the feeling under others, changing her thoughts to the impersonalized thought that it pained her to see her enemy like this. A thought anyone could have.
She blinks, realizing she is still staring back at Zuko. She quickly looks away to find Iroh staring at her, an odd expression on his face. It disappears as soon as he sees her glance up. She looks away quickly, back at his nephew's wound, and a corner of his mouth twitches. He is beginning to realize what may be going on here, even if she may not. She quickly recovers a more professional attitude, but immediately abandons it for a more risky but safer in the long run explanation.
It takes her a moment to come up with what she hopes is a decent, and understandable, enough explanation. As she does, she carefully focuses on putting water on Zuko's wound, disguising any stray feelings with a face of pure concentration. Her gentle hands weave her element into a swishing pool, hiding the ugly injury beneath layers of concealing blue. Iroh watches her carefully before turning back to his nephew, guessing hopelessly at the thoughts about his nephew that might be running through her mind. He had noticed her peculiar reaction to the Zuko's gaze, the way she would stare at him thoughtfully before quickly turning away and pretending she hadn't even glanced towards the injured boy. Iroh shakes himself out of his thoughts as he realizes she is speaking.
"He didn't make a sound." she whispers, gazing once again at the firebender's pale face. His mouth is slightly open, she notices, jagged breathing hissing between cracked lips.
"Hmm?" Iroh glances up at her quickly, looking confused, before rejoining her in watching his nephew sleep.
"When he woke up... He didn't make a sound. He was in terrible pain, yet he didn't even whimper."
Iroh nods gravely. "He refuses to look weak in front of anyone." Especially someone he might care about. He takes the moment of silence to glance around at the rest of the group, who are moving around and preparing for sleep on the fading light, and unsuccessfully tries to stifle a yawn. A large, dark object comes flying towards his head, and only his war-honed instincts catch it before it hits. He blinks, eyebrows rising, surprised as he realizes the object is a dark, earth kingdom blanket. He looks up to see the water-tribe boy tossing similar looking blankets to the earthbender and the Avatar. The boy couldn't be much younger than his nephew, Iroh realizes, and he seems to have the same will to lead. He spots Iroh watching him and glares back.
"We're not stopping for the night." the boy growls. "Courtesy of the Fire Nation."
Iroh ignores the boy's fierceness, and simple nods his thanks for the blanket. "Thank you for the wonderful blanket. It will be appreciated."
The boy simply grunts and rolls over in his own furred, blue sleeping bag. "Don't get used to it. As soon as Katara's sure Prince Ponytail over there is gonna survive, you two are outta here."
Zuko runs through a black hallway, the walls enclosing him force him through darkness that never seems to end. His feet pound on the cold floor, tracing the path of the dancing dragons etched in the hard marble. His sister laughs manically behind him, the jets of her blue flame flying towards him and the desperate flames of his attempts at blocking illuminate the painted flames beneath them. The two dances, dragons and benders, intertwine until Zuko is no longer entirely sure if he is cloaked in scales or silk, dancing with flames of paint or flames of heat.
Something sends him falling, rolling into bright, searing light. He blinks, trying to see clearly in the new light, looking up to see his father standing poised before him, clothed in the formal red of agni kai. No! He screams, and scrambles away, only to face him again, standing beside Azula. Zuko backs away from the terrifying pair, flames of blood red wrapping around them, gasping as his back thuds against something solid. Spinning around, he faces a massive wall of painted fire so real; he can almost feel the heat. Emblazed upon it, in letters charred black, like they had been burned there to be seen for all eternity, were the words, 'Suffering shall be your teacher.'
Zuko gasps, his wide eyes opening further in terror, and he turns slowly back to what is left of his insane family, just in time to see their entwined fire blazing towards. But he can't dodge it, because in the sea of death and destruction he can glimpse his mother, running towards him and calling out his name. He reaches out to her, calling her name and begging her to do something, anything, but before their outstretched hands can meet, only a finger length away, his body explodes with pain from his face, and from his shoulder, and the blue tinged orange consumes everything, before the black overtakes even that.
Katara doesn't realize she's fallen asleep until she is awakened by someone whimpering softly, almost indistinguishably. Everyone seems to be quiet and sound asleep, even Aang, who has fallen peacefully asleep with Momo on Appa's neck, as the trusted sky bison chugs on. She looks down at the only person who could possibly have reason to make such a depressing sound. Zuko lies beside her, slightly curled on one side, his shoulder and head held protectively inward. Katara instinctively scoots slightly away from the injured teen, conscious of the firebender's head almost being in her lap, before deciding against it—what could he do right now?—and inching back.
Still, she jerks, surprised, when he opens his eyes slowly—almost painfully—and looks again straight into hers. For the first time, Katara gazes back into his. They are clouded and unfocused, but beneath she can see the incredibly strong will to survive buried in the fierce gold so like the sun. Unconsciously, she carefully lofts the firebender so his head rests on her lap, his golden eyes that much closer to hers.
Zuko winces as he feels her move him. He ignores the pain, never lifting his gaze from those wonderful eyes, the eyes that reflected the moonlight, that seem as endless as the ocean they share their color with. He reaches out a hand, slowly, ignoring the waves of pain the slight movement brings. His fingertips brush a soft cheek, just under the gentle left eye, and he almost gasps at the feel of it, so unblemished and smooth, so unlike his own.
"You..." he slurs, unable to get the words out, yet so desperate to do so before the slowly approaching darkness takes him away once more. "I...love..." His eyes close gently before he can finish, and he slips, this time not into unconsciousness, but into a deep and dreamless sleep, sighing as his strangled gasps finally deepen and lengthen into deep breaths, the darkness finally giving him rest from his pain, and from his nightmares.
Katara sits stunned, not moving as Zuko's hand drops from her cheek and he falls asleep. Did...did he really...did he just say he loved me?! She jerks, moving to dump him off her but can only lay him back down gently on the blanket and stare at the confusing, yet somehow endearing, boy's face. He seems so peaceful, his face finally relaxed and calm, for once not twisted up in a grimace of pain or anger. She turns away from him, looking towards the bright moon and stars. Why must he be so confusing? Why can't it be as simple as he gets hurt, we help him, he leaves, he goings back to trying to kill us as normal? But no, he has to go fall in love with me, when he doesn't even know who I am at the moment, and make ME all unsure of myself! It was a dance, a deadly dance of feelings, his and hers. A dance of heat, a dance of danger, a dance of flames. She shuts her eyes, not daring to look down at the infuriating firebender, and tries to sleep. She sighs, squeezing them tighter, knowing that sleep will never come.
When morning comes, Katara helps Iroh carefully slip Zuko's robe over his newly bandaged shoulder. She carefully avoids looking at his face, concentrating only on the white bandages that could be wrapped around anyone. She has already deemed, upon closer examination, that the wound was not life threatening, and that the prince should wake up in a few days and heal with no long term ill effects from it. She doesn't look back as Aang flicks the reins and sends Appa again shooting into the air, away from the stupid injured prince and all his confusion. Hopefully, he wouldn't remember a thing.
Zuko stands on the crumbling stoop of the crumbling house his uncle decided to rest in until his nephew had healed. He didn't remember anything from that time, only being struck down, and then waking here days later with his uncle waving some of his sickly sweet smelling tea under his nose. But sometimes, in the midst of his nightmares, he would have a dream. A dream where he felt safe, and comforted, and the ocean rocked him in its warm embrace as a pair of twin blue moons watched over him from the sky, and a stream of water and a jet of fire danced their careful dance of flames.
Disclaimer: We don't own Avatar: The Last Avatar or the characters.