She was reading in the armchair when the heavy door opened again. She flicked her eyes up but didn't stir as Iroh entered, bearing a tray of steaming food.

"I thought you might be hungry." He said kindly, setting the tray on the writing desk.

She was starving. But she flicked her eyes back to the scroll and ignored him, even though she felt she was being rude. Iroh's eyes crinkled in a secret smile, remembering the day he had received this same treatment from his nephew several years ago, when the boy was eight and had been told that he couldn't go play outside because of the rain. He had protested that he didn't mind, that he would wear the wax-coated cape his mother had made especially for him, but was still told no. He had curled up in a different armchair in a different room and had read the same scrolls she held in her hands.

"Well, I will leave it here for you." Iroh turned to leave.

"Wait!" She exclaimed, sitting up. Iroh paused and looked around at her. "Um…" She stood. "I'm sorry, I was rude. Will you join me?"

Iroh smiled at her and gave her a small bow. "I would be honored."

Katara crossed the room to sit at the writing desk across from him, observing the food ravenously. Several plates lay on the tray: a bowl of soft noodles coated in a sticky brown sauce, steaming rice with vegetables, what looked like grilled fish but could easily be grilled pheasant squirrel, a pan of boiled dumplings, and a plate of mantou arranged around a bowl of thick, sweet milk. A fat pot of tea, whistling softly, loomed over the dishes, accompanied by two handle-less cups and two small empty plates.

Katara politely poured Iroh the first cup of tea, which he accepted with a nod of thanks. He handed her a pair of chopsticks from the tray, picking up his own. She looked at them confusedly: the Water Tribes used proper instruments to eat, not sticks. Iroh seemed to not notice her confusion and began serving himself a helping of the vegetables and rice onto the small plate. Katara watched him covertly, and tried to imitate his motions.

Iroh glanced sidelong at Katara as she struggled with the chopsticks. He had been curious whether or not she had used them before and was not surprised that she had not. But she was learning quickly, he observed delightedly as she deftly picked up a dumpling to lay it on her plate, picking it apart only a little clumsily.

"Tell me about yourself." He said. She startled at his voice and the dumpling went flying. Her head whipped to follow it and she started to stand to retrieve it but he waved her back down, chuckling. "Do not worry, it is not going anywhere."

Katara settled back down, making several attempts before finally capturing a new dumpling to her plate. "What do you want to know?" She asked, prodding it with one of her sticks. This really was barbaric. Hadn't they ever heard of a fork?

Iroh swallowed his mouthful. "Where are you from?"

"You should know." Katara said, not angrily. "Your ship crashed through our wall a few months ago."

"Ah." Iroh thought he had seen her somewhere before the incident with the pirates. He frowned at the memory. "The South Pole."

"Mhm. My brother and I both grew up there."

"With your parents?" She nodded, though he noted a small frown on her face. He chose not to press. Directly. "What do they do?"

"My father…" She stopped, eyeing him suspiciously. Did he know her father was leading a war party? Was he fishing for information on their location? He wouldn't get any from her. "My father is a fisherman." He had been years ago, before becoming Chief and leading the men of the village against the Fire Nation. It wasn't a total lie. "My mother died six years ago."

"I am sorry to hear that." Iroh frowned. "Was she ill?"

"No."

He waited for her to elaborate, but decided not to. Her eyes were averted from him, narrowed in hurt and anger. He leaned back with a sigh, realizing what she was not telling him. "She was killed."

"Yes."

"By Fire Nation soldiers."

She nodded curtly, spearing her dumpling savagely. "In a raid. They thought she was a water bender."

"But she was not." Iroh guess as he took a long sip of his tea. She nodded in confirmation. "Katara, you have my deepest sympathies. It is very difficult to lose someone you love, especially a family member."

She looked up at him, seeing his lined face and downcast eyes. "You've lost someone?"

"Yes." He answered. "My son, Lu Ten, was killed in the invasion of Ba Sing Se. He was not much older than my nephew."

"I'm sorry." She murmured. "War hurts everyone."

"Indeed it does." Iroh nodded along sagely. He moved along brusquely to a happier topic. "Are you enjoying your travels?"

"Yes." Katara smiled. "It's interesting, there's so much that the South Pole doesn't have." She took a piece of the grilled fish and regarded it closely before popping it in her mouth. She made a face and gathered her napkin up to spit it out. "Sorry," she gasped. "That's really spicy."

Iroh chuckled. "After a lifetime in the Fire Nation, I do not even notice the spice anymore."

"I could never not notice it." Katara, picking up and draining her teacup. Iroh poured her another cup. "Do you miss it?"

"The Fire Nation?" Katara nodded. "Sometimes. I miss the spring rains and the climate. The mountains. And the food." He winked at her. "But the people of the royal court and the violence of the war…not always."

"Is that why you're chasing Aang? For something to do?" Katara asked, leaning forward to snag another helping of the rice and vegetables.

"Not exactly." Iroh sighed. His nephew would not like that he was going to share his story with this girl. "My nephew has a strong sense of right and wrong." Katara scoffed. Iroh ignored her and continued. "Try to understand, my nephew is a complicated young man. He has been through much. Three years ago, he attended a war meeting even though he was very young. A general proposed sacrificing a division of entirely new recruits to distract the Earth Kingdom troop and Zuko spoke out against him." Katara's brow was furrowed. She would have done the same thing, she thought. "Zuko was right, you see, but it was not his place to speak, and there were...dire consequences. After Zuko's outburst, the Fire Lord became very angry with him. He said that Prince Zuko's challenge of the general was an act of complete disrespect, and there was only one way to resolve this...an Agni kai. A fire duel." Katara sipped from her teacup, enraptured. "Zuko looked upon the old general he had insulted and declared that he was not afraid. But he had misunderstood. When he turned to face his opponent in the arena of the duel, he was surprised to see it was not the General. Zuko had spoken out against a general's plan, but by doing so in the Fire Lord's war room, it was the Fire Lord whom he had disrespected. Zuko would have to duel his own father." Katara rested her teacup on her lap, her eyes turned down towards it. Iroh noted that she was moved, even sympathetic. Interesting. "When Prince Zuko saw that it was his father who had come to duel him, he begged for mercy. The Fire Lord called him weak . I looked away." Katara's eyes widened in realization: his father had given him the scar. "After the duel, the Fire Lord said that by refusing to fight, Zuko had shown shameful weakness. As punishment he was banished and sent to capture the Avatar. Only then could he return with his honor."

"Were you banished too?" Her voice was small.

"No. I chose to accompany my nephew into exile in hopes of protecting and guiding him." Iroh frowned at his lukewarm tea and heated it up in his hands. Steam rose from the cup, reflecting in Katara's eyes.

"So if he takes Aang back to the Fire Nation, everything will return to normal for him." Katara said, a concerned frown crossing her face.

"Things will never return to normal." She looked confusedly at Iroh's harsh tone. His fist was balled by his side, his normally cheerful countenance turned dark by the admission. "But the important thing is that the Avatar gives Zuko hope, and the will to go on."

"Does he know you think that?" She asked.

Iroh flicked his eyes to Katara. "No. He would not believe me even if I were to tell him."

Katara nodded. "I understand about having to have hope. But I can't let him take Aang." Her own fist balled in her lap, the determination clear on her face.

"You are very attached to him." Iroh observed, his face calming from the dark anger.

"He's my friend." Katara said simply, shrugging.

"I wish my nephew could have a friend like you." Iroh said, rising. Katara hurriedly stood as the old man stretched, his bones popping. "Please excuse me, miss Katara. My old bones cannot sit for very long anymore."

"Of course." She bowed. "Thank you for the food."

He returned the gesture. "Thank you for the conversation." He turned towards the door, but paused. "Katara, please do not judge my nephew too harshly. He is trying to return to a home that he is very far away from."

"Aren't we all." She murmured as he closed and latched the door behind him.

***Line break***Line break***Line break***

Zuko stomped down the stairs, going below deck in search of his Uncle. Iroh had been missing all afternoon and Zuko was getting frustrated that he couldn't find him. There were only so many places on the vast ship a round old man could vanish to and he had checked all of them. All except one. He braced himself, hoping he wasn't about to stumble in on a very irate water bender who was doing spirits knew what. He moved to shove through the door but his Uncle's words 'tread lightly' sprung to his mind. He grimaced, and knocked. On his own bedroom door, he thought, fuming. For a moment there was only silence, the echo of his knock the only sound in the metal corridor. Then there were shuffled footsteps and the steel doorknob twitched. He smirked, it was still locked.

"Come in." A small, sullen voice said from the other side.

He barged in, swinging the door wide. Katara was walking away from him, returning to her seat at the writing desk. He peered around for his Uncle and, not finding him, began to leave until he saw the water bending peasant pick up a brush and begin writing. He hesitated then, his curiosity getting the better of him, strode over to subtly look over her shoulder. Her penmanship was perfect, not a drop of ink out of place.

"You can write." He murmured, surprised.

"I can read too." She snapped without turning to look at him. "And dress myself. Any other arbitrary talents you'd like to comment on?"

He glared at the back of her head. "I didn't know the water tribe had a written language. Peasants don't have a need for one."

She turned then to stare back at him in haughty disdain. "Wow. I knew you were a jerk but…" She shook her head, looking him up and down. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

He snarled and leaned down to brace a hand on either side of the backboard of the chair she was sitting on. She glared up at him, her hand curling tightly around the brush, her back straightening to a proud posture. "I know you're my prisoner." He whispered fiercely in her face. "And I won't tolerate that from you."

She sneered up at him, tensing herself up, but his Uncle's words came back to her: be patient. He's far from home. She took a deep breath and relaxed, her glare fading into a sullen scowl.

"I'm sorry." She muttered. He frowned, waiting for a trick. "I…I'm not stupid, Zuko. I can read and write and calculate. I can cook and hunt and take care of myself. I may be a peasant, in your eyes, but I'm not useless."

Zuko didn't know how to react. What to say. He stayed frozen above her, staring down at her brown hair and stupid blue clothing. Blue as the ocean. "I know." The words fell from his mouth without his permission and he ground his teeth in frustration.

"You know." She repeated.

He wanted to yell at her, tell her of course he knew she wasn't an idiot. Her brother may be…but instead he spoke carefully. "It's obvious that you're not stupid. I…I sometimes lose my temper. And say…rude things."

"Noticed." She whispered, looking up at him. This was different. Not shouting.

The silence stretched on forever for Zuko, his eyes locked on hers, their faces inches apart. His eyes took in her eyes, the wisps of hair curling around her ears, the dark freckles against her lighter brown skin, the fading darkness of a bruise on her cheekbone. "What happened?" he asked absently.

She had been studying his face in return, having never been this close to him without fighting. His skin was so pale, so perfectly flawless except for the scar across his eye. She thought he would look better with hair, instead of the shaved ponytail-topknot he wore. She admired the pure gold of his eyes, both of them. They glinted at her, focused on her own face. He really wasn't bad looking, she decided. But that didn't excuse him from being a jerk. "What?"

He stretched out a long finger, brushing against the bruise on her cheek. His touch was warm against her skin.

"Volcano." She said, her eyes flicking between his. "A village wouldn't believe it would really explode so we had to save them." She touched the bruise herself, her finger brushing against his accidentally.

They both twitched back as if shocked by an electric jolt. Zuko pushed back from her. "You do a lot." He muttered, looking over at what she was writing. "What is that?"

"Lieutenant Jee said he would be interested in reading about the water tribes." She said, looking at him distrustfully. "If you think it's stupid, I-"

"It's fine." He said, interrupting her. She frowned. "There's a lot we don't know."

"You want to know about my people?" She asked incredulously. She peered up at him, seeing his eyes rove over what she had already written.

"You know about mine." He said, glancing over to where the scrolls lay neatly piled by the armchair. He looked down at her. "You're not stupid." She opened her mouth to respond but he kept talking. "And I'm not a monster."

"No." She said. "You're not." She looked up at him, her face wan. "But you are my enemy." She stood before him. "And you're trying to hurt my friend."

He didn't bother responding. He pushed past her and out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

She heard the key click in the lock and breathed out deeply, settling back in the chair to continue writing.

***Line break***Line break***Line break***

"Uncle, where have you been?" Zuko climbed onto the top deck, seeing his Uncle sitting below a shallow roof as the sun set behind him. "I've been looking everywhere for you!" He stormed towards him, slowing down as he saw the stern look on Iroh's face. "What's wrong? Did she hurt you?"

"Nephew." Iroh breathed. "Please, sit down."

"What is it?" Zuko asked, doing as he asked.

"Prince Zuko, I am becoming…" he paused, searching for the word. Zuko's eyes turned towards the ocean, the cresting whitecaps dark against the fiery horizon. "…uncomfortable with keeping Katara here. She has had a hard life at the hands of the Fire Nation. I do not believe this is the honorable course."

"Uncle, I need the Avatar." Zuko said, frowning. "If we don't have the girl, this was all a waste."

"The Avatar will come as long as he thinks you have the girl. Her presence is not strictly necessary." Iroh said, looking at his nephew sideways. "He knows you have her, and will come looking for her. But she does not need to be here, Zuko."

"She said something to you, didn't she?" Zuko asked, curious. "What was it?"

"It is not for me to say." Iroh told him, his voice firm. "But I would strongly suggest that you set her free as soon as you can."

"I'll think about it, Uncle." Zuko said, turning towards the sea. "I promise."

***Line break***Line break***Line break***

Zuko retreated back to his room after eating in the galley. He hadn't felt like keeping company with his crew or Uncle for dinner that night. His talk with his prisoner, with Katara, had disrupted his usual mantra of honor, duty, Avatar. Was his Uncle right? Was it dishonorable to keep her, using her necklace to coerce her into subordination? He needed the Avatar to be able to go home. She was just a means to an end. Then why did his head swim with the memory of her eyes looking up at him, the dark freckles on her nose?

He shook his head, trying to clear it, as he unlocked the door and pushed it open slowly, wincing as it squealed. He shut and locked it firmly behind him. The room was dark, the lone candle had been extinguished. He lit a small torch in his palm, sending the fire to the wick when he found it. Zuko glanced around, looking for the girl. She was curled up in the armchair, her arm pillowed under her head, her outer robe spread over her for a blanket. She was shivering again in the dank chilliness of the ship.

He walked softly towards her, standing above her. Her face was lined with marks from her sleeve, as if she had been tossing and turning. Her long hair was pulled back and tied behind her head, keeping it out of her face. She breathed low and peaceful, refuting the frown on her face. He turned from her to remove his armor and outer robes, leaving just his pants and under tunic. He pulled the comforter from the bed again, intending to throw it over her like he had the previous night, but something in the way she curled in on herself told him it wouldn't be enough.

With a sigh he flung the thick comforter back on the bed neatly, pulling the it and the sheets back halfway. He moved back towards the chair, scooping the sleeping girl into his arms and shaking her gently to dislodge her outer robe.

She opened her eyes slightly, peering up at him as he deposited her on the bed. "What're you doing?" She mumbled, stretching her cramped joints. The chair was comfy, but very short.

"I'll take the chair." He murmured, pulling the covers up over her midsection. She wriggled further under the blankets until they skimmed her chin, her eyes closing again.

"Won't fit." She mumbled. "You're too big."

He glanced at the chair, knowing she was right. But it was too late to move her back, she was already breathing deeply, her face turned in towards the bed, her back to the wall. He liked her instincts: protect your back.

He slid into the other side of the bed, facing away from Katara, careful to be as far from her as he possibly could. He slowly elevated his body temperature, sending warmth through the sheets until the entire bed was warm. The hair on of his neck prickled as he heard her shift behind him. Zuko looked over his shoulder to see her sleeping face, her breath coming deeply as she clutched the blanket against her cheek. Zuko flipped to his stomach, his face towards her with one elbow crooked under his head, and watched her serene face until he fell asleep.

***Line break***Line break***Line break***

She wanted to tell him thank you, that maybe it was okay that he smelled like sage, and that the silky sheets felt nicer than the fabric of the armchair. But she was already asleep.

He wanted to tell her that the spots on her nose reminded him of stars, that he had decided to listen to his Uncle and would let her go as soon as they came close to land, and that she smelled like the firelillies that used to grow wild behind the palace. But she was already asleep.

***Line break***Line break***Line break***

A.N.: Hmmm. Interesting developments abound. Understanding, perhaps? Nah.

Iroh's story about Zuko comes pretty much straight from the transcript of 'The Storm.' So that's not my writing. Disclaimer!

To Kat-Tastrophe: :D 3

To Guest: Thanks!

To Toby Ryan: Thank you! I'm glad

To dristi5683: Thank you!

To K-naille: Thanks! Me too

To 4Eva Dreaming: Thanks! I haven't really thought that out much lol

To Guest (from chapter 2): I think I missed you last time. Your review about the details made me grin and squirm in my seat from happy feels ^_^ Thank you!