"So then how do you pick: where you're safe, out of sight, and yourself, but where everything's wrong? / Or where everything's right but you know that you'll never belong? And whichever you pick, do it quick, / 'cause you're starting to stick / to the the steps of the palace." – Sondheim's "On the Steps of the Palace" from Into the Woods
Katara huffed a sigh, blowing her hair loops away from her forehead in the puff. She surveyed the gallery below her critically: dignitary, dignitary, councillor, former general, diplomat, dignitary, dignitary's wife with the unibrow…
From her vantage point in the opera box, it was easy to pick out the tactical alliances, the petty feuds, the lovers making not-so-subtle glances. She huffed again and turned on her heel, away from the noise and the bright light. She glided down the hallway, and, glancing around quickly to make sure no one followed, took the first left out to an exterior balcony. Taking a deep gulp of the cool, evening air, she closed her eyes and leaned against the railing.
I don't belong here.
The thought sprang to her mind as bright as the moonlight around her. It was the thought that had made her leave all those months ago. She had spent the time traveling, lobbying, visiting. She had crossed every continent and returned, only to realize that some part of her was still hoping that when she came back, it would all make sense, that it would feel like home. Somehow she thought loving someone would make her heart stitch itself together, that she would feel like she belonged. Like the sneering comments of the elite wouldn't irritate her. Like the dry, cloudless sky wouldn't feel suffocating. Like seeing his face would be enough to ease the gnawing fears inside. And yet in the week she'd been here, she'd mostly, politely, avoided him.
She stared out into the city below, studying the bright points of light that marked houses and restaurants, and then, looking upward, began to examine constellations that were empty of meaning to her, stars that withheld their stories.
Hearing the silk robes of another's gown rustling, she smoothed her facial expression, turning to face the newcomer with a carefully blank expression.
"Why am I not surprised to run into you here?" Zuko smiled crookedly as he stepped onto the lamplit balcony. "I needed a break from the Suun family. They're convinced I should build a bathhouse for royal concubines within the grounds. Nevermind that there haven't been royal concubines in this family for six generations."
Ever since she returned, Zuko couldn't help rambling endlessly to fill the silence between the questions. He joined her at the railing, and watched as she gave only the most cautious of smiles before turning her gaze back to the sky.
He let out a heavy sigh and followed her gaze, standing in silence beside her as the moment stretched out.
Katara heard the insistent voice in the back of her mind ask, You're in love with a man who jokes about concubines?
And without meaning to, a question slipped out of her, "Would you?"
He glanced over with his good eyebrow raised, "Would I what?"
"Erm, take concubines?"
"Well it's certainly an interesting proposition…" but the smile in his voice gave him away before he could finish. Katara shoved him with her shoulder and he let out a laugh, saying, "You're the one who asked. If you don't want to know, you shouldn't open the discussion."
Silence settled again, until Zuko asked, "Katara?"
"Mmmm?" she replied, still staring intently at the city below.
"There won't be a new bathhouse for concubines."
She rolled her eyes, "That's a relief."
"And why is that, in particular, a relief?" Zuko prodded, and Katara closed her eyes as she said, "They'd want me to determine how to plumb it, and I don't have time right now."
"But you might have time later?"
A pause before she said, "Much later, I suppose. If I stayed."
"Would you like to stay?" Zuko asked, and she heard the note of hope that brightened his otherwise steady tone.
"I wish I knew. When I came here to help advise, I didn't expect to stay. I was an outsider. And then I stayed so much longer than I thought I would, but I still never felt like I belonged. I thought maybe if I went to one of the Poles, I would belong. But I didn't. Maybe I don't know how to belong anymore." She let out a sigh and rested her head lightly against Zuko's shoulder. His warmth surprised her, and, as she realized how cool the night had become, she snuggled against him more.
In a moment, he had pulled her into his arms, and she stood, blinking in surprise, before she wrapped her arms around him and let out another shaky sigh.
She was further surprised to hear his voice, low and thick with emotion, so near her ear, as he said, "I know it's not the easiest place to be, but you will always be welcome here."
"Here in the Fire Nation?"
"Here. With me."
All of a sudden, the urge to laugh bubbled up in her, and she pulled back enough to look him in the eyes as they stood nose-to-nose, and she said, "So definitely no concubines in the future for you?"
He regarded her closely, "Definitely not."
She looped her arms around his frame again and pressed against him. With her face buried in his robes, she murmured, "I think I might be in love with you."
"What was that now?" He asked, a cheerful light gleaming in his eyes. She repeated it, louder, face still buried, "Might be in love."
With great gentleness, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and murmured simply, "Me too."
And for a moment, under the Fire Nation's stars, Katara did not worry about where she belonged. For a moment, she knew.
