Zuko didn't know he was smiling. He stood apart from the family reunion, pleased that he had finally done something right. Katara looked so small in her father's arms – small, and exuberant.
Hakota said something to Katara that made her pull up her head and whirl around to stare at Zuko. Stunned by her expression, Zuko wondered if he would ever see anything more beautiful than her face.
He noticed months ago that she was pretty; he wasn't an idiot. He thought he knew every feeling those telling blue eyes could emote. He had seen them wide with fear and half-closed in contentment. He had watched them cloud with grief, focus with power, soften with aching tenderness, and harden like ice from her rage. He had even witnessed the glimmers of amusement and affection she never gave him. At this moment, her eyes were blue flames, filled with passionate joy.
She shouted at him, and though sure that her words were of gratitude, all he heard was his name. Then she flew at him, and he thought of absolutely nothing. Astonished and rooted to the ground, he felt her crash against him with the force of a tidal wave.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed against him, laughing. He felt her soft curves and strong grip, and wondered at her ability to hold him with her entire body, impossibly close and without hesitation. Her embrace was both a gift of gratitude and the welcome he so desperately needed.
His arms encircled her waist. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and exhaled. Zuko, exiled prince of the fire nation, was home.