Authors note: Wow, thank you all so much for the reviews and the follows and the other whatnots! You're all the best and I'm glad I can share the story of Zuko's awkwardness with the world. So here is the second chapter! Huzzah (also this chapter has a little more of the dark stuff, themes of abuse within). I didn't make ATLA or Zuko but if I did things would be very different.
The next morning, Zuko woke before everyone else, as he normally did. Shuffling out of his tent, he started a new fire and started to heat some water for tea. He looked around for something to use, but there was nothing around but peppermint leaves, so he settled with that. His uncle would have been able to make something delicious, but Uncle Iroh wasn't here and everyone was just going to have to deal.
He was picking the peppermint when Katara poked her head out of her tent.
"Zuko?" she mumbled sleepily, blinking in the sunlight. Her voice was husky from lack of use, and Zuko swallowed.
"What?"
"Why are you awake?"
"I always wake up this early," he said, standing up quickly, dropping a large portion of the leaves he'd collected. He scowled and bent down to pick them back up, and threw them unceremoniously into the pot before he sat down.
"Do you always make the tea?" Katara wondered, coming sluggishly out of her tent, a pale blue robe wrapped around her body. Spirits, was there anything underneath that?Zuko swallowed again, and could only watch as she yawned and shuffled over to sit next to him. Her hair was tangled, and all Zuko wanted to do was run his fingers through it and feel how soft it was. No, that was stupid.
"Yeah," he said, realizing he hadn't answered her question yet.
"For all of us?"
"It's a six cup pot, so, yeah, all of you."
"That's really sweet," Katara said, yawning. "I always assumed it was Suki who made it."
"Suki doesn't usually wake up until 8:30," Zuko said, heating the water to make it boil faster.
"Ah."
There was silence for a while, and Zuko caught himself looking at her from the corner of his eye. The robe was thin and he could see the outline of her...everything. He heard her throat clear, and his eyes snapped up to hers.
"Uh..." Zuko scratched the back of his neck again, and looked back at the teapot. He looked at it so hard, it was a wonder it didn't burst into flames. Katara yawned again.
"It's exciting this time of day," she commented, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah. Super exciting," Zuko agreed, trying not to look at her. Do you even know what you're doing to me?
She was doing it on purpose, she must have been. There was no reason for her to emerge from her tent, with her husky voice and messy hair and silk robe other than to torture him. He found himself thinking about what he would do to her if she would let him; how he would seize her by the waist and feel the heat of her body against his, feel her breasts pressing up on him, her hips rolling, her breath jagged...and Zuko would kiss her, he would kiss the hell out of that girl if she let him. Maybe she would protest at first, but she would give in, she would gasp and sigh at his touch, she would arch her back and whisper his name in his ear.
"Zuko?"
Yes, like that.
No, she was actually speaking.
"What?" he snapped back.
"I asked you why you wake up so early every morning to make us all tea," Katara said, the corners of her lips twisted slightly in a confused smile.
Katara likes bad boys.
"Uh...it's, I only do it because I want to," Zuko said, "I don't care about...about what other people want. I do what I want."
This only caused Katara to give him one of those damned blank stares, paired with parted lips and a slight look of amusement.
"You're something else, Zuko," she sighed, stretching. She's trying to kill me, I swear.
Trying to act somewhat collected and altogether not flustered, Zuko poured her a cup of tea and handed it to her. His eyes fell to the ground, and when he felt her fingertips brush his, he nearly dropped it.
"Thanks," she took a sip, and smiled at him. "It's really good."
That couldn't be true, but he accepted the compliment anyway. They both sat together for a long while, occasionally commenting on mundane things like the weather and the quality of the grass before Suki and Sokka crawled out of their tent.
"Mmmm what's cookin?" Sokka asked, making smacking noises with his mouth.
"Zuko made tea!" Katara said, smiling broadly and holding out two cups. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. Making tea wasn't very bad ass, and everyone knew it. Uncle Iroh was a first class example- he was a Class A Bad Ass until he retired from the war and dedicated his time to brewing tea and eating roast duck, at which point he became what Azula called 'kooky.' Had he reached that point already? Was he kooky?
"That's sweet," Suki said, tousling Zuko's hair. Zuko recoiled from the touch like a moody cat.
Sokka gave Zuko a look that Zuko guessed meant 'I've got this for you bro' and sidled up between him and Katara, putting an arm around his sister.
"Y'know," he said, picking his teeth with his little finger. "Remember when Zuko was evil?"
Katara met this with a suspicious look.
"Why?"
"I'm just saying, remember when he had his own ship? A crew, in command of thousands..." Zuko muttered twenty, "...of men? That's prett-y impressive."
"I...I guess?"
"And don't even get me started on the ponytail."
"Sokka," Zuko interrupted loudly.
"What? All I'm saying is that you were a total badass."
"Yeah, was," Toph said. Everyone turned with a start, they hadn't even seen her come in. "But yesterday, I caught him petting Appa and making cute noises at him."
"Toph!"
"It was cute," she admitted. "But not very badass."
This wasn't going at all the way Zuko had wanted it to. Suddenly, Katara was aaaawing and patting his arm and looking at him like one looks at a tiny kitten, not a viable romantic interest (or even a purely sexual one, for that matter, which Zuko was pretty sure he would be fine with).
Either way, Katara shrugged her slipping robe back up onto her shoulder, and tossed her hair back. Zuko bit back his frustration and chanced a quick glare at Sokka, who shrugged at him as if to say hey, it's your fault for doing the petting and cute noise-making.
But Appa was just the sort of bison that demanded cute noises. That wasn't his fault, it was Appa's fault.
It was then that Zuko noticed that Katara's arm was still on his. He felt heat flush up to his face, and tried to act like he didn't notice so she would stay there. He memorized it, the feeling of her touch on his bare skin. Only once before had he felt it, back in Ba Sing Se, when she had reached up to tentatively place her hand on his scar.
Only a few others had ever dared. And all of them had been met by fury, indignation, but Katara...
Katara had always been different.
"Hey, you're all awake!" Aang's voice came from ten feet in the air, as it did every morning. He must have had his daily dose of crazy beans, because he was whipping around their breakfast circle on an air scooter. "What are you guys doing? What are we doing today? Are we doing something fun? I can't wait!"
The touch on Zuko's arm disappeared, but it was met with a little, secret look of mild exasperation. Was she sharing a glance with him? In that split second, Zuko forgot how to share a glance of exasperation, so he just met her glance with a little head shake and slightly wide eyes. Katara just gave him a little, confused smile, and turned to Aang.
"Well, we were going to work on your bending today," Katara told him, and Aang's air scooter deflated and he looked suitably subdued.
"That's it? Work?"
"Yeah, the comet comes in three weeks, or did you not read the newspaper today?" Toph said sarcastically, picking at her feet. "It also said you still suck at earthbending."
"Nice try Toph, we all know you can't read!" Sokka declared triumphantly, pointing at her. Toph just shook her head in an expression that substituted for eye rolling. Meanwhile, Katara was looking at Toph huffily, an action that was entirely ineffective.
"He doesn't suck at earthbending," she said defensively, "he just needs more practice is all."
"Aang doesn't need earthbending," Zuko put in, "and he doesn't need waterbending either. He's only been working on firebending for a week, and it's going to be the most essential element he has when he faces my father."
Katara raised an eyebrow at him.
"Excuse me?" she prompted. "How is firebending going to be more helpful than anything else? Did you forget that water puts fire out, or do you need me to remind you about that again?"
"No, it's earthbending," Toph insisted. "It'll be able to block the Fire Lord's attacks, if you use it like a shield."
"I think both of you are forgetting the most crucial detail," Zuko said stubbornly. "The comet isn't just going to affect my father, it's going to affect the bending of every fire bender in the world. That includes the Avatar. Aang's firebending is going to be the most powerful weapon he has."
"But...I don't like firebending," Aang said, shrugging. "I was just gonna jump around until he tired himself out. Fighting fire with fire is never a good idea."
"You don't think hair is a good idea."
"Zuko, I have been with you through many of your hairstyles, and believe me, few of them were good ideas."
To his frustration, Katara sniggered.
"What?" he asked, bewildered.
"I'm with Zuko on this one, I have no idea what you're talking about, but it's boring me," Toph yawned. "When do I get to chuck rocks at Twinkletoes?"
"After I figure out what's so hilarious about my hair," Zuko insisted, looking directly at Katara.
"It's fine now," she said, demonstrating this opinion by rearranging some locks of his hair. "But you know, when we first met you, it was a bit...silly."
"That was a traditional Fire Nation hairstyle," he said hotly.
"Why was it...shaved on the sides?"
"Sokka's hair is shaved on the sides!"
"THIS is a warrior's wolf tail!" he said, gesturing wildly. "It's a traditional Southern Water Tribe hairstyle."
"That's almost literally what I just said."
Zuko didn't tell them why he had shaved it on the sides. The truth was, it was because of the scar. Everything had been about the scar, it seemed, as soon as he'd gotten it. Shaving around the ponytail was a gesture, like he didn't care about the scar. It was about displaying it like it hadn't hurt, like his pride wasn't wounded, like his father's abuse hadn't had any effect on him. If he was going to have a scar, he had to have that scar.
Now that his hair was long, and shaggy, it was just easier to hide it.
Katara gave him another look, and he nearly understood that one. It was filled with a little bit of concern, and he brushed it away with a shrug and a noncommittal look.
But bile was rising in his throat like it always did when the scar was pushed back to the front of his memory. Rather than subject his new, tentative friends for the emotion explosion that was due to come any second, he excused himself gruffly and walked away.
He hated it. It was on his face all the time, it would be there forever, and every single day he had to feel it there on his face, so heavy, so...so ugly.
If people didn't look at him with that poorly hidden horror on his face, or whisper that poor boy, maybe it would be bearable. If it had happened in a training accident like he told everyone it had, maybe he'd be able to stand it.
But there were still some nights he woke up sweating, the image of his father's fury burning and melting his face away.
Predictably, Katara shifted up to him, her steps quick and fluid.
"I'm sorry we made of your hair," she said. "I didn't mean to make you stomp off again. I didn't really think your hair was stupid. I thought it was kind of cool."
"Thanks," he said flatly, annoyed that she still seemed to think this was about his hair.
"Zuko..." Katara's voice trailed off, and she crossed her arms. "I know you're not used to talking through your emotions, but if you want to talk to someone...I'm here."
He looked at her in surprise. She cocked her head, and squinted at him a little.
"Are you..." she gestured to her eye, and when Zuko touched his, it felt a little wet. Shit. Embarrassed, he wiped any rogue tears away and turned around again. Badasses don't cry.
"I'm fine," he said, forcing the words out. "I just need to go...meditate."
"Fine, but I'm going to start charging you for each time you storm away dramatically."
Zuko had to give her an amused smile for that, and she just gave him a tired look as she sauntered away. Her robe was slipping again, and Zuko marveled at her tanned shoulder before she shrugged it back on. He took one last, long look at her ass before he turned back around and sat down on the ground, crossing his legs.
He exhaled.
He pictured his father. Inhale. He remembered the way everything used to be; Azula laughing in a normal way, his father encouraging him, and his mother...his mother.
He exhaled.
If she'd still been there, she could have stopped him.
His father.
Inhale.
Could he even call him that?
He was thirteen, he was a child. And when his father approached him, fire in his fist, he had bent down, he had sobbed and cried and pleaded, but he'd done it anyway. His father.
Exhale. Exhale. Exhale.
He had accepted it too, that was the worst part. His father had burned his face away, and he accepted it because he was convinced he deserved it.
Azula laughed.
At that point, there was barely a difference between inhales and exhales, there was just heaving and choking, and Zuko was bent over, clutching his face like he was all those years ago, defeated, dishonored in front of the entire Fire Nation.
And then he felt arms around him.
Katara's touch was gentle, and the affection pouring from her embrace was nearly overwhelming. It flipped a switch in him, a trigger, and he started outright sobbing into her lap. The only words he could spit out were I'm sorry and he was my father, and even if Katara didn't understand, she kept stroking his hair and making soothing noises, bent down so close he could feel her breath on his neck.
"Zuko, Zuko, Zuko," she kept saying quietly, cradling him. She could obviously sense there was something horrible and traumatizing happening inside of him, so all she said was things like you're going to be okay and I'm here for you.
Eventually, he forced himself to calm down and sit up. Sniffing pathetically, he rubbed at his eyes. He felt so stupid. Stupid and idiotic and pathetic.
"I'm...I'm sorry," he muttered, trying to compose himself. "I guess I just hit a nerve."
"Don't be sorry," Katara soothed, rubbing circles into his back. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Accepting your feelings..."
"I don't want to accept them," he said, spitting as he talked. "I just want them to go away."
"Zuko," Katara said softly, "I have no idea what you're going through, but...it seems really..." she broke off, unsure of what to say. "We all care about you, Zuko. We'll all do whatever it takes to help you."
"I don't need help."
But as he said it, he pressed his head into her shoulder and reached for her hand. She squeezed it.
"Maybe you don't. But maybe I'm going to insist on helping anyway." she smiled a little, and Zuko looked up at her. Her eyes were wide and full of compassion, and Zuko was met with the sudden urge to tell her how beautiful he thought she was, he wanted to reach for her and tuck one of those ridiculous hair loopies behind her ear and kiss her; would she protest? She seemed to care about him.
"Thank you," he mumbled. The ground was starting to feel uncomfortable, and he was feeling a major need to vent out his emotions. There was no way that was going to happen with words, so instead he asked Katara if she wanted to spar a little bit, and she said of course she did, she'd learned a lot since they last fought and she wanted him to know how much better than him she was. This elicited a small smile from Zuko, and as they stood up and readied their stances, he already felt a little better.
Firebending was like a guilty pleasure for him, it was a release, an expression of his fury that didn't need to be eloquent or spoken. He had mixed feelings about his bending, and he always had, but sometimes it just felt good to burn things.
When he fought with Katara, however, every blast was directed at trees several feet away from her. He couldn't chance burning her, or, spirits forbid, scarring her. Either way, this seemed to irk Katara.
"I can take it!" she challenged, slinging a tendril of water at him that nearly knocked him onto his back. She'd changed into her clothes, and that slit up the side of her dress was driving Zuko crazy. There was a part of him, and he was a little ashamed at how prominent that part was, that wanted to growl at her and call her a filthy peasant and pin her to the ground.
Water splashed him in the face and he spluttered.
"Your head isn't in this," she taunted, and Zuko huffed. Frustration of a million different sorts built up all at once, and he screamed as he shot all of his anger into a towering tree. Katara stepped back a few paces, her frightened expression exaggerated by the harsh light of the fire.
All it does is scare people. Zuko breathed in and out, trying to keep himself calm, trying to keep the fire from spreading. All fire does is scare people.
Katara only watched him. Maybe she thought he needed to deal with this on his own, or maybe she was just afraid, but she just stood there and watched as Zuko calmed down, and as a result, as did the flames.
When they'd vanished, Zuko felt shame creeping back into his face. He looked at her, and that wild look must not have left his eyes, because Katara's lips tightened in either disappointment or sympathy. It was hard to tell the difference.
"You're so angry," Katara said, a little softly, a little sadly. "You've done bad things, and bad things have happened to you. But I think once you realize, really realize that you're not a bad person and that you didn't deserve those things- you won't need anger anymore."
And she walked away. Zuko nearly called after her, because she only just started making sense. But he let her leave, and sat back down on the ground in defeat.
Another author's note: Thanks for reading! Zuko is one big ball of complicated and confusing emotions. In the next chapter, more people will get themselves involved, much to Zuko's ever growing annoyance.
(here be shameless self promotion) I have a tumblr for this sort of fanfictiony thing, and I'm writing one oneshot every day for ZUTARA WEEK. Those oneshots may or may not end up on here, but if they don't, my url is fire-lordzuzu dot tumblr dot com (here ends the shameless self promotion.)
You guys rock my socks.
