This chapter is most definitely rated M. I might have done more than dip my toes in the smutty water, but it's not explicit … uh, kind of. Maybe a little. Point is, this will be a steamy chapter and any who are not a fan of the sexy times should get ready to skim. You'll know when you get to the part …
Acceptance
The moon was a thin crescent in the sky. Katara leaned against one of the pillars that rimmed the courtyard and stared up at the celestial lights—at the stars that scattered the darkness like ocean pearls, illuminating in silvery touches where the waning moon struggled. In a few days there would be no moon at all. She didn't like to think about that. Not after today. Not when her bending had been so integral to keeping Zuko alive.
"Lady Katara, isn't it?"
She glanced over her shoulder to see a man who looked to be in his late twenties standing near the guards on watch. There was something familiar about his features: the square jaw and brown eyes. Her brow furrowed.
"Have we met?" she asked.
He shook his head and confided his name was Yuji. He was an assistant to General Chan, so he was often at the palace to help with the ministerial side of things. They had just finished up a meeting and he was on his way home, but then he'd seen her standing out here. Though he admitted it probably wasn't appropriate for him to approach her, he'd really wanted to thank her for protecting the Fire Lord today. Word of what she had done was spreading all through the Caldera.
A faint smile curved his lips. "It seems you're steadily winning the hearts of the people. Perhaps with this you'll even silence the opposition."
Katara's frown deepened. "Opposition?"
"You didn't know? There are many who have not accepted you or your engagement to Fire Lord Zuko. They want to stop the marriage."
She brushed her hand over her stomach. "I doubt that will happen."
Yuji noticed the motion but did not say anything about her pregnancy. Instead, he bowed to her and requested that she take care of herself. The Fire Nation palace could be a dangerous place, and she had proven a formidable obstacle for those who sought to remove Zuko from the throne. He would hate to see something happen to her.
Katara murmured her thanks and watched him leave. She lingered a moment longer in the courtyard before making her way to the chambers where she and Zuko slept. Soldiers and servants bowed to her as she passed them—something that had been happening more and more often since she had protected Zuko and the royal guards earlier that day. Perhaps Yuji was right: something was changing. Before, people had taken note of her and treated her with a distant sort of respect, but now it was like the barriers had been removed.
Every bow was a pledge of loyalty. Every quiet acknowledgement was a sign to say that she had been accepted.
Katara didn't know how that made her feel. Confused? Happy? She had never tried to win over this nation; she had been too absorbed with her own worries and frustrations, and a part of her had still been bitter that it was the Fire Nation who had taken her mother away and raided her tribe. But now it was like she was just slipping into the role that had been forced upon her. Once she married Zuko, she would become a Fire Nation princess. She would be a leader for these people, and she would stand at Zuko's side as his partner and wife. It was so … strange.
She was still trying to sort through her feelings when she came across Shima and Nobu, who once again stood guard outside the bedroom. Nobu dared to smile at her as he opened the door—just another man with fire-tinted eyes who once would have been her enemy, but now who just reminded her of a protective uncle. Both men murmured greetings to her, which she returned with actual sincerity.
This was going to be her life now. It struck her in that moment: all these servants and officials and guards would surround her, and she would keep on learning their names, and she would not see enemy when she looked into their faces. Maybe she would heal them, as she had done for Kenta; maybe she would try to bring them out of their shells or get advice from them, as she did with Mayumi; maybe she would just trust them, as she did Nobu and Shima. But they would be there with her every day, and she would greet them as she did now, and maybe—maybe there would be no more "her" and "them".
Maybe something was changing for her too.
Katara let out a breath and walked inside the bedroom. She stood still in the centre of the room as the doors were closed behind her. The giant bed dominated as always, but this time she didn't shy from its presence. Instead, her body stirred with a flutter of anticipation. She couldn't fight the feeling—the secret yearning that crept through her and quickened her heartbeat. Zuko would be here soon, and then—then they would lie next to one another again. Then he would be close enough for her to touch if she wanted, and it frightened and excited her a little to realise that she did want that.
She wanted to touch him. She wanted to be touched by him.
Her heart pounded—too loud, too fast. It was like being on that precipice all over again, but this time falling didn't seem so bad. Still scary, but not so awful that she wanted to run. And maybe that was okay. Maybe it was okay to let go of all that held her back.
Maybe it was okay to just accept.
She swallowed and turned away from the bed so she could get changed inside the dressing area. This time, she did hear when Zuko arrived. His voice was low and seemed to wrap around her, shivering all over her skin. It used to frighten her that he could have such an effect; it still did in a way. She couldn't even see him and he was only talking to the guards, but just the sound of his voice made her come alive.
He really did make her feel so much.
Katara finished securing her robe and then exited through the sliding partition doors. Zuko paused when he saw her, one hand already reaching for the headpiece that was fixed into his topknot. The door to the bedroom was closed now and no servants had come to help him undress. Perhaps it had been assumed again that she would assist him.
Her stomach fluttered a little as she closed the distance between them. He was taller than her, and she had to lean up to grab his hand.
"Let me," she said softly.
Zuko's eyes widened a fraction. He went very still, making no move to free his hand or to pull away from her. Blood pounded in her ears and she swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth. Without meeting his gaze, she lowered his arm and then removed the Fire Lord's headpiece from his hair. A tug on the band let the black strands tumble free. He inhaled a sharp breath.
"What are you doing?" he finally dared to ask.
Katara reached for the sash around his middle. "What does it look like?"
His hands stopped her before she could undo the knot. "Wait. I don't—I don't understand. Why are you—why would you—"
"Because I want to." She stepped closer, her heart pounding and pounding, driving her to utter the words she had tried so hard to supress. "Because today I almost lost you and right now I need you to be close to me. I need to feel that you're alive." Her eyes locked with his. "Be with me tonight."
Zuko's chest rose and fell quickly. She could feel the way he trembled, or maybe it was her body that trembled. She honestly didn't know anymore. Her heart wouldn't stop pounding, and his scent and warmth was all around her, and their lips were so, so close, and she was just so tired of fighting this. She was so tired of denying herself what she wanted.
"Kiss me," she whispered.
So he did. His hand released hers to slip into her hair, and then his lips were on hers and it was like everything else just ceased to exist. Her eyelashes fluttered shut and she lost herself in the feel of kissing him: in the way their lips slanted and parted, letting their breath intermingle, letting their tongues brush and caress like the most pleasurable of silk. It was so much sweeter this time. Yet even then she found herself wanting more. Her fingers grazed his robe, latching onto the fabric to pull him closer. She kissed him deeply and steered him towards the bed.
Zuko suddenly gripped her shoulders and held her back. "W-wait," he said a bit breathlessly. "Just—just tell me one thing."
She blinked up at him in confusion.
"If we—if we go through with this, will you regret it?"
Her brow furrowed. "What?"
He gestured between them. "This. Last time you freaked out and I—"
Something twisted in her stomach. Right. She had run away from him, but not before she'd said all those cruel, horrible things. It must have hurt. Oh, who was she kidding? She knew that her actions had upset him a lot. He'd even confessed that he'd felt used by her. Perhaps he worried that she would do the same thing again. That was a sobering thought. She had treated him so awfully that now he doubted her intentions.
Katara took his hand in hers and pressed his knuckles to her cheek. "I'm sorry."
Then she let him go and walked to her side of the bed. Zuko stood motionless for a moment before he was moving in a rush. His fingers latched onto her wrist, tugging her back to face him.
"Z-Zuko, what—"
"You didn't answer my question," he pointed out. His touch gentled and his eyes sought hers, golden and intense yet somehow so soft. "Will you regret it?"
She opened her mouth but no words came out. She didn't know what to say. Guilt pressed down on her shoulders—an awful weight that told her of how little she deserved this boy. She had been so very petty and selfish. On top of that, her emotions were all over the place—so much so that she just didn't know how to put everything together to make sense of what she really felt. She wanted him, but was that only because she was scared? Because she had almost lost him today? Because he was attractive and her body yearned to feel his touch again?
"I don't know," she admitted in a low voice. "I—I just—"
She bit her lip, frustrated and not sure how to put her feelings into words.
Zuko stepped closer. "Then how about this," he murmured. "Do you hate me?"
She shook her head.
"Do you—" he swallowed "—do you still want to be with me tonight?"
Her cheeks warmed and she nodded.
He exhaled and released her wrist, but only so he could intertwine their fingers. "Okay." He moved even closer and dipped his head. "Okay."
She didn't understand what he meant until their lips touched. He was kissing her again, and this time it was he who guided her down against the bed. She felt her back hit the coverlet. Her breath came short and fast, even as her legs instinctively spread to give him room. His weight was warm and familiar. It made the blood quicken in her veins; made every inch of her tingle with anticipation. She wanted him. She wanted him so much. It was a relief when he kissed her again—softly, deeply, making her toes curl and her body arch. She felt like she was unravelling.
How had she ever resisted this boy?
Zuko's hands skimmed her thighs, finding purchase on her bare skin; her robe had somehow got pooled around her hips. Not that she minded. His touch felt good, and it felt even better when he wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing her closer. Now she could feel him pressing into her—all the hardness of his arousal. Heat pulsed from deep within her, aching and needy. She pressed herself even more against him; kissed his lips, clutched at his back. Too much fabric was getting in the way.
Frustrated, she pulled back so she could tug at the sash around his middle. Zuko helped her to undo the cloth and pressed open-mouthed kisses to her neck, finding her most sensitive spots. Her fingers trembled and fumbled; he was being very distracting—especially when he reached her collarbone and nudged the silky cloth aside, lips grazing her skin and getting very, very close to her breasts. Her eyelashes fluttered shut—but no. There was still far too much fabric getting in the way of their bodies. She tugged at his clothes, even as she cursed the fact his robes had so many stupid layers and ties.
"Why is this so difficult?" she groaned.
He laughed: a low, boyish sound that took her by surprise for how light and attractive it sounded. He'd never really laughed around her before. Zuko sat up and began to remove each of the layers. It was oddly arousing. His hair got ruffled and his gaze often locked with hers—weighted with promise and anticipation—while he undressed himself. She bit her lip as she watched. When he was down to his undershirt and pants, she shifted to her knees and stopped his hands before he could do the rest. Then she undid the tie and parted the cloth to bare his chest. His body was lean and muscled—perfect like a honed blade—and she couldn't resist letting her fingers explore the hard ridges and planes. He trembled a little. She could almost feel the need building within him, wanting her to go lower.
Their eyes met. Katara gripped his undershirt and kissed him on the mouth, pushing the loosened fabric off his shoulders. She threw it behind her without a care for where it landed. He tried to pull her closer by her hips, but she wriggled away and grabbed his hands to hold him still.
Not yet, she said through her touch.
Much as she understood his feeling—the need to let their bodies collide where all that heat was now concentrated—there was still one last tie to be removed. So she released his hands and found the knot to his pants. He definitely trembled that time. It made her own heart quicken. They'd only done this once, and everything about this situation was different. In the mural room, it had been all frantic kisses and touches: a clumsy, desperate coming together that had happened so fast she'd barely fathomed afterwards how they'd even ended up naked and joined as one. But here there was none of that. It was like they were discovering each other for the first time: every kiss, every caress, every sensation. She was nervous and excited, and she knew that he was too.
Zuko helped her to remove the last of his clothes—and, yes, she could admit she found herself staring at his obvious arousal. She didn't remember it being that big. Then his fingers brushed her chin and tilted her face up so he could kiss her again: a deep, toe-curling kiss that left her wanting more. So much more. He tugged at the fastening on her robe, and it was as if all the heat pulsing through her intensified. Right. She was still dressed.
He pulled back to meet her gaze. Katara nodded, her heart pounding and pounding. He should have known he didn't need to ask permission. Zuko shifted closer on his knees. His touch was gentle, uncovering her body in an almost reverent way. Goosebumps shivered all over her skin. This was definitely different to how it had been at the Western Air Temple.
He brushed her hair aside so he could place a soft kiss to her shoulder. So, so soft. Then he was guiding her back down against the coverlet. Her breathing fragmented as he leaned over her. She was conscious of her bare breasts—of how utterly exposed she felt as she lay there in full view. It made her want to press her thighs together so at least he couldn't see the dampened curls—to see just how wet she'd already become for him. This was all too real and intimate. But he didn't let her hide from him. Instead, he met her eyes and skimmed the back of his hand against her cheek.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. He'd never said anything like that to her before. She wasn't sure how to react. Not that he gave her a chance. He closed the distance between them and kissed her with aching tenderness. She couldn't resist him—didn't even want to. Then his hand was moving up the inner part of her thigh and she just stopped thinking altogether. His fingers were right there. Pleasure sparked all through her, building and building. It was almost frustrating how easily he got her to come undone for him; Zuko was a fast learner, and all he had to do was listen to the soft sounds she made to figure out where and how she liked to be touched.
He got very, very good.
Katara fisted her hand in his hair, even as her hips rolled up in instinctive need. She felt like a string being pulled too taut—exquisitely, unbearably. It was too much. But even then she knew this wasn't quite enough. Her core ached to be filled, to have their bodies connect on a much more intrinsic level. So she dragged his face up to hers and kissed him hard. He didn't protest—not even when she latched her legs around his waist and used her weight to roll them both over so she had him on his back. His chest rose and fell quickly. Looking at him from this angle gave her an odd thrill. His hair was splayed around him in dark strands and his cheeks were flushed. He looked vulnerable and utterly turned on. A fresh spike of heat pooled between her legs.
"What is it you want from me?"
His words—the same he had thrown at her so many times—came back to her mind. This time she knew the answer.
She just wanted him. She would always want him.
Katara brushed her fingers against his cheek—an echo of the caress he had given her. She didn't tell him that she thought she might have fallen for him, but she did let him feel all the yearnings of her heart when they became one. It wasn't like she could help herself. Their bodies fit together so perfectly. He made her sigh his name and rock her hips against his in helpless passion; made her feel like she was an instrument attuned completely to his touch, just waiting for him to make her sing.
He made her see stars and feel like she was flying and falling at once: a pleasure beyond pleasure that rippled all through her and juddered deep to her core.
Zuko tensed all of a sudden, and then it was like he just fell apart before her eyes. The rawness of the moment—of feeling him climax and come inside her—struck her as nothing else had. They'd both been stripped bare, both been exposed to each other in a way that was achingly vulnerable. It was so different from what she'd experienced at the Western Air Temple. There was no shame, no horror, even though her mind had never felt clearer. She knew exactly what they had done, and she realised that she didn't regret it at all.
Katara pressed a soft kiss to his lips and then eased herself off him. She didn't run and she didn't feel any need to do so. Instead, she lay next to him on the bed and curled up against his side. When his arms came around her, she simply closed her eyes and allowed a smile to curve her lips. No, she would not regret this night.
Well, I ended up writing this today instead of working on my lesson plan for tomorrow … er, make that today. It's almost 3am. Oops. Looks like I'm going to be doing that happy (translation: sleep-deprived) improvising thing. I hope the kiddies play nice.
In any case, this chapter is basically all Zutara and is a massive turning point for the two. I may have indulged in the fluff near the end, but what can I say? I am a huge sap.
And, on that note, I need sleep. Until next time!