Disclaimer: Neither Avatar: the Last Airbender nor its characters belong to me, nor will they ever


Zuko didn't come to dinner.

Katara didn't know whether to cry or to be infuriated. How dare he! her mind-or was that her heart?-heart cried.

She had suffered through a humiliating dinner alone, fighting back hot, angry tears. Not even Iroh had come to dinner. Had there been some memo she did not receive?

It doesn't matter, she told herself stomping back to her room. I am not a guest, after all. I am an employee. Why should I think he'll grace me with his presence at all, let alone every day? I am just some-some Water Tribe peasant he's hired, not-not anything...special...

But her breath came in heavy heaves and she struggled to maintain her composure, at least until she got back to her room.

She wanted to pack, to leave and go home immediately, but then she stopped and allowed herself a minute to think. She wasn't a child that made decisions based on whim, not anymore.

She noticed a few sealed letters on the table in her sitting area and she lit a candle to read them.

He father had written to say he missed her but was proud of what she was doing-willing to do-for Nali, and not much else.

Sokka wrote to ask if her last message had been code for "Help, I'm being held against my will!" but she knew he'd be getting her new letter any day now and it would answer that ridiculous question.

A letter addressed from Toph had three words scribbled in it: On my way.

Katara groaned and buried her face in her hands. She did not need people coming to her aid just because she had gotten herself into a slight...rut. Toph couldn't even know about this latest issue, why was she coming at all?

She stood to undress when there was a knock on her door. Slipping behind her dressing curtain, she called out, trying not to sound too curt, "What?"

The response was faint and muffled from behind the door.

What more could this palace ask of her tonight?

She sighed as she reached for her robe. "Just come in," she called. She heard the door open as she tried to pull her hair back quickly. "I'll be right out."

"All right."

She nearly choked at the sound of Zuko's voice.

She had thought it had been on of the servants! Nali's nurses, maybe, but not...Zuko!

Her eyes flew down to her attire...or lack there of, her face quickly growing warm. The shift barely reached her mid-thigh and the robe didn't cover much more. She closed it and tied the waist belt securely, praying her face wasn't as red as it felt.

She stepped out from behind the curtain, arms folded across her chest, keeping her eyes low. His back was to her, but he turned around when she cleared her throat.

His eyes widened momentarily, taking in her dress, but then he swallowed and bowed slightly. "I'm sorry to bother you, I just-"

"It's all right," she said abruptly.

He looked up at her. "Right."

She tried not to squirm and she licked her lip, slightly nervous. "Why don't we sit?" she asked, motioning to her sofas.

He nodded and followed her. He wasn't in his dress robes, or his war suit; instead, he wore casual maroon pants, his boots, and a duo-toned sleeveless robe, making the muscles in his arms that much harder to ignore.

She swallowed and waited, not quite sure what to say.

"Katara," he said, trying to capture her eyes. When she finally looked at him, he said, "I wanted to say...that...I'm sorry, for last night. It-my reaction-it was uncalled for, and I'm sorry I...yelled at you. I-I shouldn't have."

She sighed and pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. "No," she said, "you shouldn't have. But I understand. You had already been through a lot and I jumped down your throat without thinking. I'm sorry."

He sighed, relieved another fight had not broken out, and leaned his head back against the back of the sofa. "What a pair."

She looked at him, trying not to read too much into his vague choice of words. He looked tired. "Where were you today?" she asked, trying to keep accusation out of her voice. "You weren't at breakfast...or dinner." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, chastising herself. "Never mind. It's none of my business, I'm sorry."

He waved a hand but didn't look at her. "Don't be sorry. I-I thought you might still be mad at me...about last night. I just...caught up on a few things today. But I should have let you know, I'm sorry."

"You were right: you don't report to me."

They sat silently for a moment.

"We keep apologizing to one another," she stated wryly.

"It's better than fighting."

She smiled slightly, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "Is it?"

He finally looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion for a moment before he saw the mirth on her face, and he smirked.

"I mean, you always kept my skills sharp-those of my bending and my tongue. And I was never bored."

"Never bored," he echoed.

"Sure," he yielded, "we had our fair share of 'fun' fighting. I just don't have the strength to do it all the time anymore." He paused.

"Getting old?" she teased.

He snorted but did not deny it. He mumbled something incoherent then asked, "How's Nali?"

"Fine. Like yesterday never happened. I, on the other hand, remember yesterday's adventure too well, and did not let her out of my sight all day."

He nodded, his vacant eyes on the candle's flame. "The only reason I felt all right leaving her today is because I knew she was with you."

Katara didn't know what to say and she struggled to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat. Why did he have to complicate things so?

She looked to the bed, where Nali slept. "She'd be glad to see you, if she were awake."

His brow furrowed, following her gaze. "She's in here?"

She stood, wringing her hands, to check, and sighed when she saw the rise and fall of the girl's breathing. "I," she started, "I just...needed to be sure she was safe, you know?"

"I know," he said, coming to stand beside her.

She tried to ignore his nearness. His arm brushed hers; his skin was warm, alluring, and a shudder ran down her spine. She turned her back to him, hugging herself, and stared into the small fire in the hearth. In her peripheral she could see his hand at her waist. It reached for the flames, which bended in response. At first they were formless, almost, just flames; then they were a sea, the waves tumultuous and unrestrained; then they were flowers, dancing desultorily in the wind, embers flying like loosened petals. She couldn't help but smile.

That smile faded, however, when she felt his other hand cup her shoulder. She swallowed, panic quickly rising in her throat. What was he doing?

"Z-Zuko?" She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye.

His mouth was set, his eyes serious, focused, but still soft. Gently, he turned her around, a hand still on her shoulder; with his other hand, he released the fiery flowers and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

It was getting really hard to breathe.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a barely audible whisper, looking up into his gold eyes. His hand was warm through the thin fabric of her robe.

He looked down at her. "I...don't know."

They held each others gazes for a moment. Katara's heart raced and she hoped he didn't notice her shaky breaths.

She licked her lip as her eyes began to sting, and she looked away, shrugging out of his touch. "Well, you better figure it out, Zuko. Because I...I can't-"

He backed away and ran a hand through his hair. He cursed under his breath before he looked at her. "I'm sorry, Katara. I shouldn't have-I didn't-"

"Stop apologizing. I don't want you to apologize. I don't understand what you want from me, Zuko," she blurted before she could stop herself. "You're overly formal with me, then you're affectionate and fill the 'loving father' mold for Nali, then you disappear for two weeks...but then you're the Fire Lord again, hard and sovereign and...and I just don't know..."

"Well, neither do I," he bit back harsher than he'd intended. Then his mouth snapped shut, his jaw clenching. "You think this is something I planned?"

Her eyes lifted again to meet his.

He took one of her hands in both of his and laced their fingers together.

She felt utterly weak and helpless.

"I'm not interested in games," she managed quietly, swallowing.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers. "Neither am I."

"You're going to wake Nali," she stated, unable to think of something else to say. Her brain was in a total haze; a foggy, steamy, watery, fiery haze.

He smirked. "She's fine."

"You'll have to get her back to sleep," she warned. She was attempting to back away, tugging back her hand.

"She's fine," he reasserted.

"Zuko."

He sighed. "Goodnight, Katara." He bowed respectfully.

She bowed in response, but it felt stiff and awkward. "Goodnight."

She followed him to the door; well, she was pulled to the door, their fingers still interlaced.

"I will see you at breakfast?"

She wanted to say no, he would not. She had to eat by herself for almost two weeks simply because he had chosen not to join her-no matter that he had not even been in the palace for eleven of those days-he, too, could endure a meal or two alone. But her mouth and brain and heart would not function as one, and she found herself saying, "Yes."


Katara was sick of being thrown off her game. She was sick of turning to Jook simply because he walked into the room. This was Zuko, for crying out loud, once her sworn enemy. She wasn't that weak, and she'd prove it to him.

She looked at her reflection in the long mirror as she tied the bindings at her wrist with her teeth. She had somehow managed to braid back her hair, and she wore her blue training tunic, cropped pants, and black boots. Satisfied, she let Wylei in to watch the sleeping Nali and made her way to Zuko's room, water-skin on her hip. Guards eyes her warily, but she kept her head held high and did not let their tightening grips on their weapons or their glowing hands intimidate her. She knew Zuko had ordered them to protect her as if they were protecting him.

Unabashedly, she banged on the large, bronzed doors of the Fire Lord's bedroom.

It took him a minute, but eventually Zuko opened the door. His eyes were alert and there was a blaze in his palm, but he extinguished it and immediately relaxed when he saw her.

"Katara. What-"

"Get dressed," she interrupted.

"What-"

"I'm collecting on that challenge now. I've been cooped up in this palace too long."

He ran a hand over his tired face. "Now?"

"Now."

He sighed, ceding. "Fine, I'll meet you in the training room-"

She laughed. "Home court advantage and an arena with no water? I don't think so. The empty courtyard, behind the palace."

He sighed and waved a hand.

"I thought you were a morning person? Rise with the sun and all that?"

"The sun's not up yet," he stated dryly. "Ten minutes."

Ten minutes later, Zuko arrived at the old courtyard. He still looked tired and he did not say anything to her as he removed his robe and began to stretch.

Katara turned around so she wouldn't be distracted and began her own stretches.

His eyes were on her, however; she wore her summer tunic, and her tanned arms were bare. Her legs were bare, too, visible underneath the long side slits.

Her eyes cut over, feeling his gaze on her, and she felt her face grow hot. "Ready?"

"You sure you want to do this? We can-"

"Yes. Let's get started."

He looked at her for a moment before shrugging once. They both took their positions, facing each other. Katara was more eager; she had water gloving her hands and arms before he could blink. Zuko still wasn't so sure he wanted to do this. Fight Katara? He hadn't done that in...years. Well, in the battle sense, anyway.

She moved first, sending a water jet straight for him. This surprised him, for Firebenders attacked first. Instinctively, he raised a fire shield, blocking her attack. Steam rose from where the elements fused. Before he could recover, she moved again. The water twisted, spiraled in the air as if it were in her hands, moving to encircle his feet. He jumped out of its reach, skidding across the dirt floor.

He knew their fighting styles differed as mush as their elements, but that did not mean either of them had the advantage. He watched Katara move, how her breathing coincided with the moving of her arms, her torso, as her feet remained planted and the water funneled around her. Her eyes were focused; she had a goal and she wouldn't stop until she reached it.

It had been the same when they were kids.

He tried to study her as she moved; her movements were not as swift or dynamic as the more structured movements of the firebending arts. They were fluid, like water itself, where as, he noticed, the firebending poses were more calculated and less anchored in the core, relying heavily on the power of his arms and legs.

Katara reached into the old pond and swept water up over the ground, freezing it beneath their feet. Zuko struggled momentarily to maintain balance, but, using heat control and a fire blade simultaneously, he unearthed the now-damp ground, regaining his footing; the fire blade he sent hurling toward Katara, followed by three more. She erected an ice shield, blocking his attack, while she glided around it, her feet steady on the smooth ice.

She sent ice discs toward him, paper-thin and razor-sharp, which he deflected with his bare hands. His hands and feet were sure as he sent quick punches and kicks laced with fire toward her. Her water whip blocked his attacks as she continued to move across the ice.

Taking a deep breath, he took a step forward and exhaled, pushing both arms, palms out, in front of him, breathing fire and sending a fire stream from his hands simultaneously. She had to roll out of its grasp, sliding back across the icy ground. He took the opportunity to move in on her. Reaching for the fire that had caught the dead bushes bordering the old courtyard, he swept it over their heads, augmenting it so it spiraled into a funnel-like cloud over their heads.

Katara, undaunted, raised her hands in front of her. The ice floor melted and shot upward, one big wave, to greet the fire. The two elements hissed as they kissed, and steam rose toward the sky with transparent fingers. Katara shielded her face with her arm, momentarily distracted with the display above their heads. Zuko got even closer to her and he swiped at her ankles with a low roundhouse kick, attempting to throw her down. She recovered and blocked his attack, sending another water jet to his chest, which he blocked with a butterfly kick. They began to spar, combining their skills with the elements with their martial arts training. Katara was quick to defend, but Zuko was stronger and less guarded in his attacks.

He could see her breath as she began to pant; he could feel his own sweat begin to freeze on his chest and back and arms. Fighting Katara was not like training on his own, but neither was it a real fight. He was out to win, but he was not out for blood.

He lost his footing momentarily on a patch of ice and Katara swung at his face; he caught her fist in his hand and she fell over with him. He encircled them both with fire, bending it around them, while she encased his feet in ice. The fire grew hot around them, began to burn a bright blue, but she kept working to maintain the ice, manipulating it to continue to encase his body. He inhaled the icy air, preparing his fire breath, when she suddenly released him and sent water sloshing over the flames. She lunged for him and he caught her angry fists before they could meet his jaw; then he locked her arms behind her back.

For a moment her thought she would attack again; her arm and leg muscles tightened as if she were preparing to pounce.

But she didn't. Instead, she sighed and relaxed.

He struggled to catch his breath. He released his hold a little, still slightly wary.

"I'm all right," she said.

"So you surrender."

She laughed breathlessly and shoved him away. "Hardly. We'll call this practice," she said, "a tie."

"A tie," he echoed. "I am getting old."

"Now, if I hadn't been so rusty-"

"Enough, all right. We'll settle on a tie. And now that the sun's up-"

"It's been up for almost an hour."

"My point exactly. We have duties to return to."

She seemed to deflate a bit. "Oh. Right."

She sighed again, loose strands of hair falling in her face.

"You can let go of me now," she said.

"Oh. Right." Somewhat reluctantly, he released her.

"Wow," she said, turning away to survey the damage. It wasn't too bad, honestly, but he was grateful they had used the old courtyard.

Picking up his discarded robe and boots, he tried not to limp back toward the palace. Katara fell into step beside him wordlessly, and it was then he noticed her hands.

"Spirits, Katara! What-"

She pulled her hands out of his. "I'm fine," she said.

"You're burned-"

"That tends to happen when you fight a Firebender," she said dismissively. She gloved her hands in water and he watched as the red, marred skin began to heal. When she was done, the water returned to the water-skin, and her hands were as good as new. "See?" she said, holding them out for inspection.

He scowled. "You should have said something. I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"I asked you to fight me. Believe me, I know what you're capable of. I also know you were holding back."

He laughed none too sincerely. "Of course I held back; you held back, too. We were just sparring, Katara. We're not enemies; we weren't fighting for real."

"Not anymore," she said quietly.

He looked at her. "What?"

"We're not enemies anymore," she clarified.

He stopped, in the middle of the corridor, and she followed suit. "And what are we now?"

For a minute, he thought she would not answer; she averted her eyes and rolled her shoulders, almost as if she hadn't heard him at all. Then she did look up at him, her eyes, her expression unreadable. "I thought you were working on figuring that out."

Before he could answer, there was a crash down the hall. Katara took off and he followed close behind. She went straight for Nali's room. They opened the door to find Iroh, sprawled on the floor on his back.

"Uncle," Zuko said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

One of Iroh's eyes peeked open. "Oh. Hello, Nephew."

"What are you doing?"

"Uncle dragon moose. He fall down!" Nali cried joyously. She was standing on her trunk, hands raised high above her head.

Iroh chuckled from his place on the floor. "The young lady is quite the ball of energy in the morning. You would think she was Fire Nation."

"Only because you've gotten her wired on sugar and sweets," Zuko said with a stern look.

Iroh sat up, clicking his tongue. "Aw. He never lets us have any fun, does he, Nali?"

The little girl squealed. "No fun! Uncle fun. I like fun."

"Nali, would you like some breakfast?" Katara tried to intervene.

Nali angled her head and looked up at Katara. One of her brows was scrunched. "No hungry. Play. Zuko play with me and Kat-ra and Uncle. Please?"

Zuko opened his mouth to speak, but Iroh spoke first. "How about this: I will watch the child and have breakfast served for us all in here. After the two of you bathe, you may join us."

Katara looked down at herself, wondering if she smelled.

"Go," he told them. "I've got this under control."

Nali smiled. "All control. Go! Then we play. I see duck turtles and flowers and water snakes. And then we all go to beach and eat more candies!"

"No more candies for you."

Zuko looked at Katara and shook his head, knowing there was no use in arguing. He ushered her out into the hall.

"What's the matter?" he asked her.

She closed her eyes as she rubbed the back of her neck. "Nothing. Just...never mind. I'll see you," she said over her shoulder as she slipped into her room. The door shut behind her.

Zuko stared after her for a moment before returning to his own room.

He had not worked that hard in...a very long time. He knew he would ache tomorrow, but maybe his sore muscles would distract his confounded heart.


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