Ozai's Vengeance

Summary: Twelve years after the final battle, Zuko summons Katara to heal the victims of an epidemic spreading throughout the Fire Nation. [Katara/Zuko

Disclaimer: ATLA is the property of Nickelodeon, not me. No profit is made by this story.

Rating: T for Teen

The next morning, a guard woke him early to tell Zuko that Iroh had fallen ill in the night. "A case of food poisoning, nothing more," Iroh said, from his bed.

"The chefs will answer for that," Zuko said.

Iroh waved his hand. "No, no. It is my own fault. I should have known not to mix such rich foods with so much alcohol. But just the thought of getting on a boat…" His eyes rolled dramatically, and he swooned on the pillows. "Nephew, I am afraid I am not well enough to make the journey with Lady Katara." He opened one eye. "You will have to do it in my place."

Zuko leaned back in his chair, all concern for his uncle washed away by a tide of annoyance and suspicion. "Perhaps we should let Lady Katara have a go at your stomach, old man. I hear she can work wonders on one's digestive fluids."

Iroh clutched his gut. "No!" He blinked. "I mean, that won't be necessary."

Zuko's head tilted. "You're not sick at all."

"I know my own stomach, Zuko, and the moment I step foot on that boat, Lady Katara will be treated to a display of its contents -- what little are left of them."

"And naturally, you think I should go with her instead. Me, the Fire Lord, risking contagion at Tetsushi."

Iroh arched a bushy eyebrow. "Are you implying that Lady Katara, you friend, is dispensable? Or that I am dispensable? Are you such a great Fire Lord that you cannot risk yourself for the sake of your nation?"

His skin went cold at his uncle's rebuke. Zuko sighed. "You know that's not what I meant."

Iroh waited a moment before speaking. "Yes, I do. But you fought at Katara's side for the freedom of this nation, and now you have chosen her to help you protect it again. The least you can do is to lighten her load, as you did in the past."

"My affairs are not in order."

"I'm sure I could be convinced to take on your duties for a short time," Iroh said. "This bug of mine will vanish in a day's time."

"How convenient of your bug, to take my schedule into account," Zuko said. "One would think that it relished the idea of me escorting Katara to Tetsushi."

"One would."

"One might also think that your little bug might be the one buzzing about my alleged plans to marry her."

Iroh took a cup of tea between his fingers and delicately sipped it. "Your people see what they wish to see, Lord Zuko."

Zuko leaned forward. "Uncle, whatever my feelings may have been in the past, the past is where they should stay. Rumors like that will only confuse Katara and distract both of us from the mission."

Iroh's eyebrows rose. "Oh? Does that mean you have agreed to escort her?"

Too late, Zuko saw the trap close around him. He sighed, and nodded. "I will."

Iroh smiled. "I'm feeling better already."

The boat cast off into cool morning air, with double the normal escort. "Why we need it is beyond me," Katara said. She summoned some water and dashed it against the hull. "I'm a master waterbender, after all."

"They're here in case any of our escort falls ill in Tetsushi," Zuko said, staring out at the sea. He turned to her, his hand gripping the railing. "I never thanked you for taking this risk."

"I have yet to thank you for sharing it with me," Katara said, and Zuko knew that his uncle had been right. It was better to accept this danger with her than expect her and Iroh to go it alone. He watched her stretch her arms over the railing to bend koala-otter shapes from the water. They leapt beside the boat, spiraling at a flick of Katara's wrist. Glittering, they dissipated into droplets and fell seaward. She laughed. "I've missed this."

"The coal smoke? The rations? Sailor humor?"

She made a face. "Waterbending, Zuko. I've missed waterbending."

He frowned. "You waterbend at the Southern Air Temple, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. But it's always rain-barrels or scraped knees, not this." She gestured, and twin waves of water rose alongside the boat and crashed harmlessly backward. "It's like painting a teacup when all you really want is a mural."

Zuko considered. As an element, fire was ever-present. He had no need to wait for it to make itself available. For Aang, air was the same. But water and earthbenders needed their element, and in the mountains Katara was surrounded by stone and wind. For the first time, he wondered what it was like to deny such an immense part of oneself.

"I've missed the sea," he said. "I used to think that I couldn't wait to leave it. But here, I was my own man."

"And you're not, now?"

"You're surrounded by children, and I'm surrounded by politicians. Our situations can't be that different."

"The children are a little more honest about their selfishness," Katara said, smiling.

"I'm sorry about the Interior minister's remarks," Zuko said. He bent his elbows and rested his forearms on the railing, leaning on them. "How are your charges, really?"

"Mostly good," she said. "They always want to see the outside world and have adventures."

"Adventure is overrated."

"That's what I tell them." She enlaced her fingers. "Your donations really have been helpful. It's nice being able to buy extra coal during those mountain winters."

He turned. "Do you need more money?"

She shook her head. "No, no. More is always appreciated, of course, but we're trying to be as self-sufficient as we can. I train the waterbenders to be healers, everyone receives lessons in craftsmanship -- carpenters and weavers and smiths donate their time to help the children learn. The more we can produce on our own, the more we can sell for profit and the less we depend on others. The orphanage should never be a burden."

"It isn't one," Zuko said. "It's a service. Services require public support." He opened his mouth to speak more on the subject, when he noticed a grinning officer standing behind them. He turned. "Do you have something to tell me, officer?"

The officer's eyes shifted between them. "Only that the rest of the crew was quite impressed with Lady Katara's waterbending, my Lord," he said, quickly schooling his features to a more military bearing.

"That's lovely. Now leave us."

The officer broke out into a huge smile, and dashed away. Zuko rolled his eyes and turned back to the sea. "Honestly, if my men are going to leer at you, you should consider spending the trip below decks."

"They weren't leering at me, Zuko. Men don't leer at me, any longer." She smiled. "He's probably part of that contingent that thinks we're negotiating a marital arrangement."

Zuko choked on his own spit. He coughed violently, feeling heat turn his unmarred ear a bright red. "It's a contingent, is it?" He swallowed. "Clearly, the contingent doesn't know me very well. If you were my…" He coiled his fingers about the railing to steady himself. "If we were married, I wouldn't allow you anywhere near Tetsushi."

"You wouldn't allow me? Oh, please." She stretched. "I wouldn't do what you told me to even if you were my husband. And you're right, that contingent doesn't know you very well." She turned to him. "To marry me, you'd at least have to answer my letters once in a while."

And with that, she headed below decks.

Zuko awoke from a reading-induced afternoon doze with a throbbing pain in the scarred area of his face. Without looking outside, he knew a storm was on the horizon. The scar acted up in bad weather, an after-effect of Ozai's punishment that only worsened as Zuko aged. Sighing and rising to splash water on his face, he listened to the groans and creaks of his ship. The air had only grown colder. The dampness endemic to sea travel had arrived to coat his clothes and kink up his hair. He did his best to smooth it, and threw a second cloak over his clothes.

On deck, Katara stood in a standard waterbending posture. A water-whip gently circulated between her hands. "The whole deck will be soaked in under an hour," she said, sending the whip into an orb above her head, then a penta-pus. "I figured I might as well get some practice in."

"And here I thought you might bend the rain away from us," he said, circling her.

"Rain-bending is tedious and boring, and you know it," she said. "Why don't you just steam the storm away?"

"Oh, right," Zuko said, removing his cloak and continuing to circle her. "I'll just cook my own ship. That's a great idea."

Light trembled briefly in a distant, aubergine cloud. A moment later, thunder rumbled across the sea. Katara smiled. "How's your lightning-bending, Fire Lord?"

"Better than you remember."

Her smile broadened. "Promise?" She sent a water whip straight for him, and he somersaulted away before severing the whip with an arrow of flame. The whip quickly divided into a flogger, each of its nine tails edged in sparkling frost. It circled above her head. "Come and get me before I flog you in front of your own sailors, Zuko."

"With pleasure," he said, kicking a fireball straight for her head. She dodged easily. He followed his attack with a rapid-fire assault of punches and kicks. She batted them away with a quick round of the penta-pus.

"I don't see glowing," she said, her voice a taunting sing-song.

Zuko sent a ribbon of fire to circle them both and close her in. "Are you this petty with your students, or were you just starved for adult conversation?"

She sent a series of ice bolts his way. He wove around them as she said: "Fight me, Sparky, or I'll tell the men Toph's nickname for you."

He made a cinching motion with both hands, like tightening a string bag, and the ring of fire grew much smaller. It forced Katara to stumble forward. They now stood so close that her arms couldn't move to bend the melted water pooled at their feet. He leaned to speak in her ear. "Stop teasing me, or I'll tell them you usually train in your underclothes."

She turned to whisper something, but he heard her breath catch in her throat. "Zuko!"

And he looked up just in time to see the lightning pointed straight for them. He jabbed a fist in the air, intending to catch it and bend it away, but two watery hands reached up from the sea around them and clutched the lightning in a ball. The ball hardened to ice, and behind its mottled surface Zuko saw dancing light. He turned to Katara, whose wet, steely face betrayed the effort of holding lightning in her icy little jar.

"What were you thinking? I could have bent it away from us!"

"You'll get your chance," she said through gritted teeth. She shook a lock of wet hair away from her face. "I can't hold it."

"Then let it go!"

She kicked the water at their feet. "We're standing in the same puddle, Zuko. I don't care how strong you are, that lightning's going to shoot straight through you and kill both of us." She grimaced. "And now that I've got my hands full, I can't bend the water away."

"You unbelievably reckless woman," he said. "Stand still. This might hurt." And with that, he steamed the water away. "Happy?"

"Why didn't I think of that?" she asked, looking away for a second to examine the clean deck beneath their feet. As she did, the ice-bubble ruptured. It cracked and shot shards of ice in every direction. Zuko reached high to catch the lightning. He let it blaze a trail through him -- down, across, then out -- and it shot through his tingling fingers to the roiling whitecaps off the port bow. Not satisfied until he saw it touch the water and fizzle away, he turned to Katara.

She stood examining her right hand. A knife-like shard of ice stood embedded inside it. The shard had stabbed cleanly through the palm. It dripped watery pink blood. She must have put her hands up to protect her eyes. She couldn't see to bend. Katara managed a wan smile. "I'm really cold," she said, knees buckling.

Zuko reached and caught her. He slowed their mutual collapse and cradled her on his lap. He felt like throwing up. "Help me!" he shouted. "Someone help me!"

The sky split and rain poured down over them. Each rapid drop seemed impossibly loud. The glittering ice shard began to dissolve. Zuko rocked Katara gently. She shivered. "I think I can fix it," she said. Her teeth chattered. "If I could just focus…" Her eyes rolled back in her skull and she went limp.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Katara said, one hand in a bucket. The water inside it glowed weakly. "I mean, fainting. What a girly thing to do." She laughed thinly.

"You sound like Toph," Zuko said. "Your body was in shock. It's normal."

They sat in his berth on the ship. It was to have been Iroh's, and it showed. The bedroom was hung with all manner of over-done tapestries, and pillows seemed to blossom from every surface. Katara sat propped up on a few of them now, a cup of rice wine at easy reach. Zuko ran trembling fingers through his wet hair, and said: "What possessed you?"

She sighed. "I told you. I thought it was going to hurt us."

"I could have protected us."

"You were distracted."

"Because you insisted on that stupid little sparring match-"

"You barely touched me!"

"Why should I risk hurting you for no reason? Just because you've got no one to practice with up ther-" Zuko's mouth clamped shut. He stared at Katara's face, and she looked down, blinking rapidly. "That was uncalled for," he said. "I'm sorry."

Her breath came light and shuddering. "Just because Aang's gone doesn't mean I'm anything less than a master waterbender," she said.

"I know it doesn't."

"I try to practice when I can. But there's a lot to do." Her face firmed. "I thought I could handle the lightning, and I couldn't. Now I'm paying for it. Are you happy?"

He recoiled where he sat on the floor, his spine straightening. "Of course I'm not," he said. He pushed himself onto his feet. "How dare you say that to me?"

"What, was I not contrite enough? Do I have to have to get down on my knees and beg your forgiveness for trying to save your life?"

Zuko turned away from her before he did something stupid, like grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking some sense into her. "No," he said. He took a deep breath and let it out, ignoring the way the room's candles had flared brightly as he did so. "I'm doing nothing to help you heal. I should go."

His feet moved. "This is just like that time with the weasel-snake," Katara said. "You were just as angry then."

He almost had forgotten. "That was years ago," he said, not turning around. They were in the Foggy Swamp, headed to the Fire Nation, and Katara was trying to bend the water in the vines around them, thinking to swing more efficiently from branch to branch. After a few successful tries, she had mistaken a weasel-snake for a vine, and it bit her. The venom's effects, his uncle had said, could only be remedied by a rare medicine.

"And you still haven't changed," she said. "You're still angry with me for something that isn't my fault."

He turned. "We were trying to take down Ozai, and you were playing with vines! And now we have a town to save, and you think you can hold lightning in a snowball!"

The bucket containing Katara's hand frosted over. "I see," she said. "I'm sorry. I thought you asked for my help this time as a trusted friend. But really it's about how useful I am."

"Don't you dare," he said. "If I thought that way -- Azula's way -- I would have left you behind back then, instead of-" His brain caught up with his mouth, and he shut up. "Never mind. I'm leaving."

"Instead of what?" Katara asked.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "Your mind is made up. It always has been."

Again, her voice stopped him. It sounded much smaller, now. "I thought we were friends, Zuko. That's all."

His hand met the door. "And you said we were family," he said. "With the things you've said, you'd fit right in with mine."

He left the room. He was halfway down the hall when he heard the bucket hit the door.

He waited as long as he could before needing sleep. Katara had not left his room, so he had let himself into hers. If anything it was more comfortable, filled with fresh flowers and soft furs. He fell asleep on the white fur coverlet, but only after what felt like hours of self-interrogation. Mentally, he kicked himself for allowing Iroh to entrap him here. The old man was probably laughing, thinking that with enough time spent in Katara's presence, Zuko's old feelings for her would surface and make themselves known. Zuko was sure that Iroh found all of it very amusing upon imagining it. After all, how was the old man to know that he would not only let Katara hurt herself, but thoroughly alienate her afterward?

And last night, you were thinking of marrying her. Grimacing, he tried to sleep.

He woke later as dawn filtered into the room. A scratching sound on the floor had him fully awake in seconds, and he sat up. Katara stood there, her hand on her bag. "I just came for my clothes," she whispered.

Zuko made a little ball of fire in his palm. "How is your hand?"

She held it out, and he gestured for her to come closer. When she did, he carefully took hold of the hand at the wrist. Soft, unblemished skin met his gaze. He thumbed it carefully, and she did not wince. "Miraculous," he said.

"I'm good at what I do."

"I was afraid it would scar," he said, realizing upon uttering the words that they were completely true.

Her hand moved and touched his mangled ear lightly. "Scars aren't so bad."

This, he knew, was their way of apologizing to one another. He did his best not to read anything else into her tone, or her touch. "Would you like your room back?"

"I kind of like the fluffy pillows."

He nodded, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "The cook should be up. What would you like for breakfast? I'll have it sent up."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that."

For goodness' sake, let yourself be taken care of once in a while. "I know I don't. I want to." He stood and reached for the shirt he'd left hanging from a chair. "Now what is it you want?"

Katara licked her lips as he stood tying the closure. Her staring made his hands slip, and he had to re-do the knot twice. "Um…"

"A mango, you say? Good choice." He made for the door.

"Wait!" Katara crashed into him from behind. He turned, and she smoothed down her dress. "I think I'd like to sleep a little longer," she said. She looked at the floor. "It's such a luxury being allowed to sleep in, and I think I could use the rest."

Zuko shrugged. "If that's what you'd like."

"I…" Something unsaid trembled on the tip of Katara's tongue. She sighed and her body seemed to deflate, her shoulders falling. "I guess firebenders still rise with the sun, huh?"

"Yes." He frowned. "Your mind is hopping around like a rabbaroo in spring. Go back to sleep."

And before she could argue, he made for the kitchen. At least there, he knew how to give an order.