A/N: Rewritten as of 8.29.18/8.31.18. Want to read the original? It can be found here. Warning to those who read the original, it's poorly written (also written 11 years ago).


Promoting Peace

Chapter Two


His skin glistened in the glow from the moon entering through windows in the chambers he was given, though they were not his own-not from his childhood. He had a room in the main house of the palace where he grew up before his exile. His skin a creamy white, dewy from sweat, he had been training.

A rasp from across the space. Another.

Zuko's eyes slid toward it, someone had been knocking on his door. He straightened himself out, bringing his arms up, over his head, then downward-cooling down. He headed for the door, as another knock came. Upon his approach he could make out odd noises. Pulling open the broad door, a guard who was stationed there turned his head to question the prince's actions.

A small black white object bolts inside before Zuko could close the door, not noticing it at first. Until his ears are drawn to a familiar noise, it's perched on his dark red covers, like most the Fire Nation decor. He eyes it warily, it's eyes of golds and green follow him. He had come to stand in front of the feline, reaching out he caught it before it had a chance to jolt away-grabbing it by the scruff of its neck. He heads toward his door once more, opening it, preparing to toss it out.

Just as he pulled back his door, someone was standing there, their fist curled, poised in motion of about to knock. He was taken back by who stood there. He did a once over, a quick glance from head to toe, then back to her face. She was plain, still shorter than him, and still very much one his sisters underlings, so why was she there?

"Ah-" Ty Lee gasps, "Prince Zuko..." She appears shocked at his sudden appearance in his own doorway, he watches her eyes drop to his chest and down, then back up again till her eyes shift away from his bare chest once more, trying to look aware but at him.

Zuko found her presence tiresome, he was also particularly annoyed by her blatant staring and fidgeting. He didn't care for this young woman, and her certainly didn't want to be anywhere near her. In order to get her to leave sooner, he asked her way she was there.

Ty Lee's eyes shifted back to his own golden orbs then down his jaw, to his collarbone, to his pecs and toned abs to the mewling creature in his hand. Suddenly she seemed to remember why she was there. "My cat.." Trailing off as she points the feline in his hand. Zuko's eyes shift to it and to her, without a second thought he flings it at her, promptly closing his door right after, just as she's about to say another word. He paused there with his door firmly close behind him, his orbs search the room, as if to focus on something else, he felt disgusted in the way she looked-longingly -at him. He shuddered.

He shifted, his body moving on it's own to resume what it had been doing before, training.


Katara had awoken to a dim light shining through her huts small holes across from her, it shone in her eyes, she rolls to her other side, as if to feign waking up. She shifts a few moments later before sitting up. Her brow damp from a cold sweat during her sleep. She felt sticky and uncomfortable that night. Her bleary eyes sifted over the space expanse of her hut, skipping over her brother sitting on the far side, and immediately going back to look at him. "What?" She asked, as if she was being judged.

He seemed to eye her cautiously, choosing his words carefully, "i-it's just that, I'm sorry, Katara." He responded dejectedly. She tilted her chin to the side, wondering what he was apologizing for. When he saw her reaction, he explained, "i-it's just that if our roles were reversed, I don't think I could marry someone I didn't-like-let alone love." Katara seemed to stare blankly at him for a moment before shuddering.

"I do this for our people." She establishes. A thought comes to her. Wait? How did he know she had chosen to go through with it. She does a quick look around, the scroll was missing. She turns on him, looking at him as if he was a suspicious culprit. "How do you know?" Her voice, collected though she felt like screaming, her cheeks turning a dark hue.

Sokka, confused, asked her what she meant, and she had questioned him about the whereabouts of the scroll. "Gran Gran said she sent the courier hawk back with your letter of approval." Katara's face beat red from both anger and embarrassment. She rose to her feet quickly, pulling her parka tighter, her people usually slept in them for warmth during the night, where it was chilly in summer, below zero in winter. She had fallen asleep above her furs and in her boots. Moving past her brother, she exits, crisp air biting at her tanned skin. There was a sharp sting to her eyes at the suddenly light shining over snow covered mounds of frozen rock, grass and water. She abruptly faces the direction she needs to go, briskly heading toward her destination, knowing where to find her grandmother.


Her focus wavered during her mission, she found herself going in the opposite direction, when she realized it she was already well past her grandmother's tent, she had headed toward waves sloshing against thick ice and hard ground. She paused, an eerie sensation washing over her. Blue orbs searching her surroundings, trying to pinpoint the odd feeling she was having, where it was coming from.

A noise behind her, like a creak in a wooden floor. There were no floors, let alone wooden ones anywhere near here, perhaps at the dock on the far side of her village. She turned, frozen in place. Blue staring into yellow, vice versa. A strangled noise came from her, and groan, it sounded like-to her-from him. What was this? She questioned. Why would she be thinking of him at a time like this. Her eyes focused on his orbs, trying to determine if she was hallucinating, or still asleep. She found her gaze following a slick trail going from his temples, down his cheeks, meeting his jaw. There it dripped down past his collarbone, to his exposed skin. She felt her cheeks heat up at the sight, wanting to look away. but couldn't. Her focus on him made him shift under scrutiny. She took a moment more before looking up. It took her far too long to speak, "Zuko," her voice low, shy even. A quick blink and he is gone from her sight. Her head whips around, no where to be found. She closes her eyes, this half naked young man standing in what appeared to be a river. Her imagination immediately drawn back to his build, he was slim, yet muscular. His shoulders and chest were broad. She felt herself bite the inside of her cheek as her eyes scanned over the image in her mind. She had seen him a handful of times without his upper garments on during their fights with him. Why would she remember that detail out of so many others?

She remembers the groan that was made upon seeing her, was it a groan? Or was it a grunt? She wasn't sure, she found it difficult to place it's sound. Her eyes had caught his, he wasn't staring through her, like she had thought, but at her. As if he had been truly there. She felt something burn in her stomach, she felt nauseous with the way his eyes had skitted over her, dropping to her knees, allowing her stomach to settle as she tried to remember what she was doing before.


His golden watched her carefully, unsure of what he had been seeing. The one he loathed stood before him, hadn't he just been training not even a moment ago in his private chambers? A noise of annoyance escaped him, grunting at her with displeasure. She stood stock still before he watched eyes drop, looking on with a mixed expression of horror and curiosity. He felt a sense of unease pit in his chest, moving uncomfortably under her intense gaze. It's not till she says his name, does he truly look at her. She's in her summer parka-it had less fur than her winter coat, dark navy pants, fur lined boots, her dark brown hair was down, enveloping her shoulders as she stood before him, her eyes zeroing in on different parts of exposed flesh. Her eyes then turned from shock to what was that? Disgust? Her face had contorted in weirdly before he blinked, and she was gone.

Staring into an empty, cold room before him. What? He stood there for a long moment, inhaling. He could smell salt wafting off the water around them, it was light, and airy. It was lush, and green, unlike his homeland and hers. He remembered the first time they had met, it had been a few years since that time had come and gone. His lips curls into a snarl, upturning over his canines at the memory. Looking back at what he had just seen in his chambers, he wondered if it were some sort of premonition? A detail flickered into his mind, there had been fire encircling the young woman, her look of disgust seemed to double as her brow and features pulled down, she was glaring and pouting at him. Her eyes held a dangerous gaze. Blinking again, his eyes had gone back to her face before she was glaring,

He blinked, the image disappearing long enough for him to climb on top of the bed, keeping his sheets off of him, as his body was far too hot in that moment to deal with such a novelty as comfort. He lay there, staring at the ceiling trying to unravel what he saw.


Standing outside her grandmothers healing hut, it was larger than hers, it had to be, to accomodate the sick, injured or pregnant members of her tribe. Her grandmother was the primary healer there, where she learned a lot of her basics from before traipsing around with her brother and a boy they found in the ice all those years ago. Closing her eyes briefly, she pictures the first time she met the arrogant prince, she frowned. Without another pause, she flew open the flap of her grandmother's hut, it fluttered to the side as she stepped inside.

She found her grandmother as the healing pool, showing the younger members of their tribe how to push and pull the water gentle movements. Her grandmother looked up to find Katara standing there, a look of frustration and determination there. Her grandmother told the younglings that she needed to speak with Katara alone and they will resume their lessons later on. When they had gone, she sat there with a small smile, as if she knew why her granddaughter was had appeared so suddenly. "I'm sorry Katara." She said simply. Katara stood there silently watching her grandmother, hearing her apologize, suddenly she felt guilty for being angry. She knew her grandmother had sent it in her stead, because she knew deep down that she wouldn't-that she would choke on being a hero to her people. Her anger faltered as she moved toward her loving grandmother. When Katara was close enough, she had reached up, pulling her down and engulfing her into a tight hug.

"Gran Gran?" Katara's voice but a whisper.

"Yes, dear?" She responded, not so quietly as the young woman in her arms.

"I forgive you-I-I'm sorry." She replies, squeezing tighter. Her grandmother didn't answer her, instead began soothing motions, by rubbing circles on her back. Her grandmother knew better than most what it was like to be put into an arranged marriage. She didn't wish the same for her granddaughter, but, also knew that she could handle it.


Sokka found his sister training near the shore, not too far off from their village, he had watched her in awe for a moment, her form was near perfect from what he'd seen of waterbending masters from their travels and from the North. The water octopus that she had perfected after practicing so hard to learn it, flowed around her with the ease of her movements. He found it calmly to watch her train so diligently, he was always surprised she could calm down when she was put into a bind, or stressed while controlling the water around her. His eyes slid from her to the plants, or if she absolutely needed to, she could pull it from her surroundings. He knew she would try to avoid doing that at all costs, she hated that. He brought his attention back to her when he noticed her stop from the corner of his eye. She just didn't simply stop because he was there, he saw her shudder. He bit his lip, he could see that she was trying not to cry. He had noticed that too, that she had been crying less and less over the years. He stepped forward involuntarily, kicking a rock with the movement. He watched her wipe away whatever tears had fallen, to turn to look at the opposing noise in her quiet solace.

"H-hey..." He began, bringing his hand to his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. She didn't say anything, but did give him a glare and a questioning gaze. "Dad wants to talk to you."

She shifted to face him, as she returned her water to the ocean. He gazed at her until she spoke. For some reason, he felt uncomfortable, there was a thick tension between them. It had taken him a moment to notice. Typically when she was mad, she would be shouting and having some sort of tantrum, but the silence was eerie and unnerving. He stood there under her heavy gaze, then she was moving. He winced instinctively when she got closer. She didn't water whip him, she didn't even yell at him, or express herself, she simply walked past him. He felt that was very uncharacteristic of her. She was a distance away before he shouted to her again, "go easy on him, okay?" He didn't know if she heard him or not.


He had intended on heading to his uncles room, he wished to speak with him regarding the details and to hear his thoughts on it, instead he found his feet moving in another direction, the opposite direction. He found himself following a path he once took as a child, with each step, it dawned on him as he passed through the hall leading toward one of his previously favourite locations, the gardens, the center of the palace. He paused at the entryway, not daring to enter. His golden orbs skipped over it, it was unchanging for the most part, minus his younger sister practicing her lightning bending near a pond his mother and him had spent much time at. Feeling uncomfortable at both the memory and the sight, unease settling over him. Unable to enter his once paradise, he abruptly turned around heading toward his initial destination.

The hallways haven't changed, still dotted in red and orange tapestries bearing their nation's symbol over dark red walls, a painting here and there, mostly of his father or his fathers father, and such. He didn't need to look at them, to know they were there or what they were of. He remembered being a child who often looked up at them, hoping he would one day be on that wall. A hollow chuckle escapes him at the the thought. He knew he would never be on that wall, not even with this fake marriage.

Blue orbs staring into his, a shudder runs through him, the hallucination he dubs it to be before he had finally called it a night, that early morning. A sense of disgust at it boils in his chest as he continues his path.

"Prince Zuko?" He hears ahead of him, his golden orbs peering up, when had he cast his eyes down? Zuko came to meet the voice, finding his uncle leaving his room. "I was just coming to see you." His uncle continues, voice chipper. His eyes eyes finding his nephews. When she Zuko approaches, he ushers his uncle back into his room so that they can talk. Upon closing the door behind him, his uncle begins to offer to make some tea. At first Zuko was going to decline, though he took him up on his offer, unsure of when they would get another chance to be together-like this.

"Have you heard?" Zuko found himself asking, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He sat down on one of the finely made chairs with a less than princely drop into it.

As Iroh goes about the process of brewing the tea, he nods as he speaks, "yes, I overheard the guards talking about it." Zuko glanced toward him, chin resting on hand, elbow on arm of chair.

"Do you not find it suspicious? What with the timing of returning?" Zuko asked, his uncle had begun to put various tea leaves in the a white-green jade pot, while also grabbing two sets of cups. He studied his uncle's reaction, noticing the fall in his face before returning to a smile. "It's a trap." Saying it out loud made it seem more real to him. "Of all, it had to be her."

Iroh had turned away to finish preparations, he glanced over his shoulder to look over his nephew when he enunciated her, Zuko had turned his eyes to something against the opposing wall, fixated on it, avoiding a look he knew he'd received for his prejudice against the girl. Iroh turned fully around, heading back toward the young man. Setting the tray down gently as not to spill water out of the pot, onto the short table in front of Zuko. Settling himself down into a chair opposite of Zuko, he began to pour the tea. A sweet jasmine aroma filling the space between them.

"What could they possibly gain by this marriage?" Zuko said, almost as if it was to himself.

Iroh watched him carefully. "Why did you accept, Prince Zuko?" His question drew in the eyes of the young firebender to him, his draw dropping, lips forming a small O, taken aback by his sudden question.

Zuko was silent for a long moment, closing his mouth to regain his composure he'd briefly lost. Why had he accepted? He knew he didn't want to be their pawn. He knows that even though this marriage is fake, he would still have to be with her, near her, see her. So, why? Closing his eyes in thought, she came to mind again, not his hallucination, but a time they had spent in Ba Sing Se, when they were trapped together, and she was gentle with him. The first time really, she and him had been alone several times before whether it was with the pirates or at the Northern Water Tribe. The way she looked at him, touched his scar, a shudder runs through him. Perhaps he had accepted because he knew she would understand. Another flash of her coming across his eyelids, she was eyeing him down, betrayal etched into her expression, her lip between her teeth as she tried to hold back her questions. This was also while in Ba Sing Se. Sighing, he opens his eyes, bring them back to his uncle, "I don't know." He wasn't sure if he was being honest with himself or not, what he did know is that he was going to regret this decision.

Iroh, quiet for a moment, "she'll be a good partner to have, regardless." Zuko's eyes snapped open.

"What do you mean?" He demanded.

"Well, she is a waterbender, if you have any fires you can't put out, she can," Iroh chuckles at the irony. A single brow on Zuko raises, as his lips turned downward in confusion, he could put out his own fires. Zuko barely caught the tail-end of what he said next, "of your heart."