A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Thanks to Exintaris for swift betareading.

Chapter 3: Burnt Rice

Zuko wandered along a slim path through the thick underbrush of the little island's vegetation, hoping it was the one his uncle had taken.

He'd chosen this island because it was far from the well-known shipping lanes, and because it had a fresh water source and was surrounded by steep cliffs, that gave them the opportunity to see any ship soon enough before they were discovered.

Still, he was anxious to leave again.

During the three weeks he had been back from Ba-Sing-Se, he had investigated the few sources of information regarding his mother, and was now certain that he wouldn't find her on Fire-Nation soil. Although she was from a well-connected and noble family, she wouldn't have gone back to her family, where her husband could have easily found her. She surely harboured secrets Ozai did not want to be uncovered.

But one of Zuko's aunts had confided in him that as children, she and Ursa had always dreamed of one day going to Tang-Ma-Hal, the City of Flowers, in the heart of the Earth Kingdom. It was a feeble clue, but he had to start looking somewhere, and Tang-Ma-Hal it was.

The murmur of a little water-fall drew nearer and Zuko found himself hoping he wouldn't catch his uncle in the middle of bathing. He had had enough embarrassment for one day.

Warmth prickled along his cheek as he remembered his awkward conversation with Katara not half an hour ago. He still could hardly believe that she would know so little about… certain topics, what with her brother being such a skirt-chaser.

For young women of the fire-nation, such knowledge was part of a well-rounded education, and chastity an out-dated commodity. Men actually preferred their companions to bring experience into a relationship. He himself had certainly benefited from Mai's extensive knowledge in that area. Chasing the Avatar around the world to regain honour had not allowed him amorous pursuits of any kind, so he had actually been the inexperienced one six weeks ago.

The trouble was, everything he had had with Mai paled in comparison to what he felt at a mere touch of Katara's hands, at a look into the deep pools of blue. Nothing could rival the bliss of holding her in his arms, if only in an innocent embrace.

He was uncomfortably sure that he would not find what he had with her with anyone else. Life would be easier if he could, but when had his life ever been easy.

He could not just be content with the woman happy and willing to be in his bed. No, he had to have the one who was supposed to be his enemy, the one who mastered the one element that was deadly to his own. He had to have the one whose innocence made him feel like he sullied something pure and holy. He had to have the one who would not be content with him giving her his wealth, his status and his body.

She demanded his soul and his heart. Forever.

He was not ready for forever.

"Ah, there you are, nephew. I've waited for you."

Zuko started at Iroh's jovial greeting, but was at once relieved to find him decently clothed, sitting with his back against a tree.

Zuko lowered himself onto the ground across from him.

"How do you feel, uncle?"

"Better than two days ago, not quite as good as six weeks ago," he answered cryptically.

"What I saw on your body looked like extensive torture," Zuko said quietly. He had not yet faced the guilt that, while he had spent his time with Mai, his uncle had suffered agony. "What did they want to know?"

"I have no idea," Iroh said. "They never asked any questions."

They both sat in silence for a while, no more words necessary on that subject. They both knew that Ozai and Azula sometimes just made people suffer for the sake of inflicting pain.

"What has changed, Zuko?"

"I have," he said. "You were right, it was a bit of an uneven process. But my changing meant nothing as long as I didn't know what I truly wanted."

"You wanted to get your honour back."

"What kind of honour is it, when a man has to do the most dishonourable things to get it? I've killed, uncle. I lied, I betrayed, and brought misery to people who have never harmed a living soul. Is that honourable?"

"No. Then what about your father's love?"

Zuko snorted.

"He's never loved anyone. Not mother and certainly not his children. He accepts Azula because she's like him, and he approves of me only when I show myself as power-hungry and cruel as he is."

"But you're heir to the throne. That's your birthright."

"Yes," he said with determination. "And I intend to become Firelord once the world is rid of him who only brings pain and suffering to his own people. How many of our people have died in this war, uncle?"

"Too many," Iroh said quietly, wiping his eyes. "Far too many."

"I want to restore the Fire-Nation to its former glory. I want our people to be renowned for their achievements, their art and their inventions. I don't want people in other Kingdoms to say Fire-Nation as if it's a curse word."

Iroh smiled at him. "Then you have your work cut out for you. What is your plan?"

"Well…"

Iroh quirked his eyebrows. "You have none?"

"I want to find mother. Then I need to find the Avatar."

A wide, beaming smile lit Iroh's face.

"He's still alive? Marvelous. As far as plans go, that sounds good enough to me."

"Will you be with me?" Zuko asked quietly.

The older man gave him a warm, wide smile. "Of course I will."

Again silence settled between them, allowing room for their thoughts on the future. For Zuko, it was a welcome respite from worry. For the first time in a long while, he had the feeling everything would turn out well.

"What about the girl?" his uncle asked casually after a while.

"I don't know. She is a… a complication."

To Zuko's surprise, Iroh didn't question that. He could've pointed out how much more difficult his escape would've been. But then again, Iroh was never one to point out the obvious.

"Maybe you should alter your plan. Find the Avatar first and leave me there. He needs someone to teach him about bending fire and I could do that. You can then go and find your mother, leaving Katara with Aang."

"No!"

The word was out of his mouth before he had thought about it. Unbidden, the memory of her hastening to embrace the boy rose all too clearly in his mind.

"She's mine," he growled.

"That's for her to decide. So far you haven't done much to endear her to you."

"It was so easy with her back at the palace. I don't know what's wrong now."

"You were in control back there. Here, you have to accept that she is your equal."

"She is not my equal! She's a woman, raised between peasants, a waterbender. And rather ignorant of certain… facts."

Again, Iroh did not challenge his hastily spoken words but fell silent for a while.

"Remember how you always felt that everything was given so easily to Azula, while you had to fight every step of the way?"

He nodded mutely.

"You were given a power that far surpasses hers. You were given a good heart. And once you follow it, as you have already started to do, you'll emerge stronger than she could ever hope to be."

With that, the old man climbed to his feet, cradling in his hand a cup of tea he had brought with him. As he walked past Zuko, his foot snatched at a root hidden under a patch of moss and he stumbled, emptying the contents of the cup right above Zuko's head.

Instinctively, he lifted his hands to protect himself.

And as if time had slowed down, he saw a protective sphere forming around him, deflecting the tea and making it drip harmlessly to the earth next to him.

Both uncle and nephew stared with open-mouthed wonder.

Iroh was the first to find his tongue.

"Your journey has only just begun."

………

On the little clearing, Katara had busied herself bringing their little campsite into shape.

Like a sweet little wife, she thought broodingly to herself. Or better, a servant. But she couldn't just sit around like the mighty prince certainly did, whiling her time away. She had to do something.

A few times she had contemplated taking the little boat and trying to find Aang by herself, but she couldn't abandon two people on an island. Regardless of the fact that one of them was an insensitive, arrogant ass.

Her ire rose again as she thought of him laughing at her. Stupid… arrogant… overbearing… conceited… blockhead.

With fury churning within her, she stamped her foot to somehow express her anger.

A roaring flame shot up from the little campfire, flickering menacingly as she stared at it in shock. But before she could understand what had happened, the flame died and left only faintly glowing embers and a portion of rice burnt to black crisps.

"Whatever happened to the rice?" Zuko asked good-naturedly as he came strolling back with his uncle in tow, looking so satisfied with himself, she could have hated him for his expression alone.

"As if you don't know," Katara hissed.

Iroh smiled warmly at her. "Zuko was with me on the other side of the island. Whatever mischief occurred, it could not have been his doing."

Katara stared belligerently into the glowing embers, uncomfortably aware of two pairs of curious eyes on her.

"The fire behaved strangely," she admitted at last.

As no snort, chuckle or outright laugh came forward, she chanced a glance at the two men in front of her. They looked nothing short of completely amazed.

"What… uhm… what did you do?" Zuko asked.

His serious expression gave her a sense of unease, but she swiped it away. Let him worry.

"Thinking up insults for you," she said loftily.

Zuko's face creased into a deep frown.

"So you were angry?" Iroh clarified.

"Rather."

Iroh nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. "Interesting."

"We should show her, uncle," Zuko said urgently.

"I don't know…"

"Do it."

He still looked deadly serious and lifted his hands into a bending stance.

Katara rolled her eyes. Show-off.

To her surprise, Iroh took a bowl with water that he had brought to brew tea, and threw it at his nephew. It splashed into his face, drenched his fine tunic and dripped from his hair.

She stared disbelievingly for a second, and then a rather unladylike snort escaped her.

Zuko glowered under his dripping eyebrows. Iroh studied the ground to his feet and bit his bottom lip.

Laughter bubbled up in her.

"If that was meant to cheer me up," she said, her chest hurting with suppressed mirth, "It's working."

She fell back onto the grass behind her whooping with laughter. She laughed until her belly hurt and tears rolled down her cheeks.

She had no idea when she had last laughed like that.

………

As night wrapped their little island in dark velvet, Zuko watched with growing irritation, as Katara made a production of packing her sleeping pelts and blankets and moved them to the farthest side of the camp fire. He was mildly surprised that she hadn't decided to spend the night on the other side of the island.

Her inappropriate laughing fit might have lifted her mood for a while, but that obviously didn't mean he was forgiven for whatever he might have done wrong.

Uncle Iroh was already snoring deeply under his sleeping blankets. Zuko was honestly glad to see how fast the old man was regaining his strength. Katara's healing abilities were truly magical.

Sighing, he crawled under his own blankets and settled himself to sleep.

Then he turned. And turned once again. Rolled unto his back and stared at the stars above for a while. Gave up on trying to count them. Then closed his eyes and counted meditation candles.

Turned again.

Then, with a muttered oath, he got up, gathered his bedding in his arms and marched to the other side of the camp. So, she thought she had to be sulking? That didn't mean he had to lose his sleep.

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he unrolled his furs right next to her, noticing that her eyes were still wide open. Apparently someone else had also trouble sleeping.

He lay down, facing her.

She wrinkled her nose and turned her back to him.

Very mature, Katara, he thought to himself, his mood improving with every second.

He scooted closer until his body was settled firmly against hers, only a few blankets separating them. She feigned sleep, but he could tell that her body was rigid with silent anger. He wondered how long it would take until she doused him with water.

Only one way to find out.

Inhaling deeply, he buried his nose in her hair. Rainwater and fresh greenery, but also a trace of ice and freshly fallen snow. Her smell alone revived him and calmed his frayed nerves. He'd never slept more soundly than with her scent surrounding him.

But right now, sleep was far from his thoughts. A sudden ache to touch tingled in his fingertips. Never one to deny himself, he slowly lifted his hand and let his fingers slide through the silky tresses. They glided around his knuckles like a living being, caressing him, beckoning him to go further. As his fingers delved deeper, they suddenly found the exposed skin on the side of her neck. Gooseflesh puckered under his fingertips, as if his touch made her skin crawl. But she said nothing, did nothing, and he was far too entranced to stop right then.

Loosely gathering her tresses, he swept them to the side, exposing a perfect slope of skin the colour of rich tea. His roaming hand looked deadly white against it as he drew lazy circles on from her shoulder up to her earlobe and back again. She had the softest skin ever. Like cool velvet. Touching it wasn't enough, he needed more. Much, much more.

Without thinking, he wound his arm around her body, spread his hand over her belly and drew her even closer.

She stiffened, resisted.

He brought the tip of his nose down to her neck, continuing what his fingertips had started, inhaling the scent of her skin. She mellowed – and gave in.

The smell of her skin was more intense than that of her hair, darker, more sensual. Through his greedily widened nostrils, the female scent went right into his bloodstream, awakening the most primal male instincts. He drew a gasping breath as his blood heated, pumping incessantly toward his groin.

"Katara," he whispered.

A tremor went through her and another bout of gooseflesh chased over her skin. He brought his mouth to her neck, feeling the tiny pinpricks against his lips, that had turned oversensitive all of a sudden. His lips slightly parted, he ran his mouth from her shoulder toward her ear, lingering at the spot where the heat of a vein greeted his lips, pulsing rapidly. He couldn't resist touching it with the tip of his tongue. The pulsepoint leapt, accelerated, and through the drumming of his blood in his ears he heard a stifled gasp.

And then she turned her head just a fraction, exposing even more of her neck to his hungry mouth. Had his head been clear enough to think of what he did as a planned seduction, he might have smiled right then. But he was far too preoccupied with yet another blood-boiling sensation. The taste of her skin.
With ever mounting greed, his mouth explored her neck, tasting, planting sloppy open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin laid bare to him. Again and again he found the pulsing vein, so little protected by only a thin layer of fragile, petal-soft skin.

Of its own accord his body pushed against her, and it was only by supreme force of will, and a single-minded preoccupation with making love to her neck, that he could keep his hand from straying from her stomach.

She surprised him with a whimpering sigh when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth before releasing it. Although far too drowned in sensation to notice much else beyond his own cravings, on the edge of his consciousness lingered the impression that she liked what he did.

His mouth roamed down again, the edge of his teeth daringly nipping here and there. Katara breathed in shallow, gasping breaths.

Mine, he suddenly heard his own voice in his head. She's mine.

A fiery burst of possessiveness clouded his vision for a moment and he sank his teeth into the skin close to the thrumming vein and started sucking. Hard. Until blood rose warmly under her skin, until he could almost taste it on his tongue.

And then, with a plop and an angry snarl, his personal patch of skin was ripped from under his mouth, and instead he found himself hit by a furious glare, silver blue in the moonlight.

"What is wrong with you?" she hissed.

Even a splash of cold water couldn't have been so sobering.

"I'm… I'm sorry," he stammered helplessly.

"You bit me!"

"I'm sorry."

With his blood still located far south from his brain, smooth conversation didn't come easily.

She made to get up, probably to find herself a less dangerous place to sleep, but he quickly grabbed her arm, holding her down.

"Please stay," he urged, hating the pleading tone in his voice.

She tugged on her arm and he was aware that she hadn't yet yelled at him because Iroh slept nearby. That fact had temporarily slipped Zuko's mind.

"I promise I won't touch you," he whispered.

She looked unconvinced but stopped trying to free her arm.

"I can't sleep without you."

She gave him a hard stare. "One false move and I'll freeze you to the next tree."

………

Though he had been convinced he would not fall asleep easily, he awoke the next morning refreshed and with a grumbling stomach. Everyone seemed already up and about; there were smells of tea and bread. Life was good.

Katara stubbornly avoided his gaze while his uncle entertained them with slightly silly stories. If not for the still noticeable weight-loss, one would not have detected a difference from his former state of health.

Katara had braided her hair in a rather weird fashion. A thick braid hung over one shoulder, constantly interfering while she was trying to eat.

After a while, it had irritated him enough and he reached out and brushed it to her back.

He saw it at once. A round, purple mark about the size of a coin.

She glared at him and put her hair back where it had been.

He hung his head as if in shame, but truly it was only to hide a grin. He'd left a mark on her, a quite visible one. Too bad he couldn't leave his signature on it and it wasn't in a more exposed place. It sure would give the Avatar something to think about.

"That looks like a nasty insect bite you have there, Katara," his uncle piped up.

"Yes," she answered, throwing him a malevolent glance. "I think it was a very nasty, dangerous insect. I'll heal the bite right after breakfast."

Too bad, he thought.

………

Katara knew that Zuko followed her, as she followed Iroh's instructions on how to get to the little waterfall to take a bath. But he knew better than to approach her and risk bodily harm.

She was not even especially angry at him. She was generally angry. At herself, at the situation, at him.

At the things he could make her feel with his fingers, his lips… and his teeth. She had been kissed before and she knew that these things were supposed to be pleasant, but Zuko hadn't been anywhere near her mouth, and still she had all but melted at what he had done to her neck. Her neck! No really intimate place. A piece of skin, plain and slightly sunburned.

She shuddered to think what she would go through if he had managed to get his hands – his lips, she mentally corrected – on any other part of her. On parts that had fairly started to hurt with envy at the single-minded attention to her neck.

She took a deep breath and resolved to forget about it. She had no idea what her body was trying to tell her, but she had a very clear feeling that this way lay danger. Something lurked there, something all-consuming and frightening and, although she was no coward, she was also not stupid.

Her dark thoughts dispersed at the sight of the beautiful waterfall and the clear, azure pool of water that surrounded it. The high trees gave way to thick bushes, blooming with sweetly smelling blossoms, insects humming industriously from one brightly coloured patch to the next. A few rocks reached into the water, their flat, sun-kissed surfaces ideal to lie down and luxuriate in the sun.

She laughed with joy and shed her outer clothes as quickly as possible, diving head first into the cool water. She doused herself with tiny showers a few times, twirled playfully on a self made coil of water, bent it around herself and revelled in the softly massaging caress of her beloved element.

Pure bliss.

At last, she let her hands roam over her body, checking for injuries out of habit. She was brought up short when she became aware of the bite-mark again. It wasn't so much a bite-mark, since his teeth hadn't broken her skin, but the blood he had sucked to the surface had formed a slightly swollen bruise. The skin around it was tender and, as she probed the skin, a tingling jolt of pleasure shot through her body right into her core that had yearned so much for him last night.

With small circling motions, she healed the tiny broken vessels and calmed the irritated skin.

"Did you like it?"

She spun around, only to find her tormenter leaning against a rock at the edge of the little pool. Bare-chested for some reason and looking altogether too pleased with himself.

With a flick of her wrist, she sent a generous amount of water flying his way. He made no attempt at fighting it, just turned his head a little as the water splashed against him.

"I'll take that as a yes."

He pushed himself away from the rock and waded deeper into the pool. Water trickled down his naked chest, running along the indentions between his well-formed muscles, drops of water sparkling in the sun.

Beautiful, she thought before she could catch herself.

His face turned serious all of a sudden and he stood rooted to the spot.

"So are you," he whispered hoarsely.

Blood shot hotly into her face as she realized she'd said that out loud. Making a swiping motion with her arm, she hid herself in a cocoon of water.

"You can't stay in there indefinitely," she heard him shout from outside.

"I can try," she gave back bitterly.

Since it didn't look as if he was taking his cue to go, she released the cocoon, splashing a generous wave at him while she did it.

"You are driving me insane," she grumbled in his general direction as she stomped out of the water.

"Well, again, so are you," he said, unperturbed, wading after her.

She climbed on a sun-warmed rock to dry herself, irritated she could find none that afforded space for only one person.

He sat down next to her, closed his eyes and steam started to rise from his clothes and body.

"Nice trick," she commented.

He grinned. "Comes in handy when one finds oneself constantly frozen against some uncomfortable place."

"If one wouldn't be such a bother, that wouldn't happen so frequently."

He took a deep breath. "Katara, we should really try to get along."

"You attacked me, remember?"

"I didn't attack you, I kissed you."

"I didn't want you to."

"That's not quite true. Besides, you forced that… that meditation on me without my consent, so now we're even."

"That's different. It's a purely spiritual connection that benefits both of us. I don't have the slightest idea why you are rejecting that."

He let out an exasperated breath.

"Because I don't know what happens to me then. I'm not saying it's unpleasant, but I don't know where it leads and what the consequences are. I just know that we have no control over it and are extremely vulnerable while it happens, because we have no perception of what is going on around us."

She stayed silent for a long time.

"This is exactly how I feel about what you did to me last night."

tbc