Zuko had placed her in front of him in the saddle. Under different circumstances, their position might have been considered rather intimate but, as it was, Zuko could've been a stone pillar and she wouldn't have noticed the difference.
He barely moved, said nothing, and had his mind so firmly barricaded against her that trying to reach him felt like butting her head against a solid wall.
Their psychic connection was something rather new, and yet – after only a few days – she had grown so used to this sort of quiet, unobservable communication that she missed it.
Well, she had to try the old-fashioned way then.
"Are we ever going to talk about what happened?" she asked.
With both of them now mounted on the ostrich-horse, their progress was much faster than before. The green strip of the forest was already close enough to discern different trees. There would be water there, she sighed inwardly.
"No."
The fact that he had actually deigned to offer her question a semblance of an answer almost made her fall off the horse.
"You can't shut me out forever," she pointed out, hating the note of whining creeping into her voice.
"I can try."
She smiled as she remembered a similar conversation in a pool of crystal clear water on a tropical island. Her body ached at the memory of warmth and water.
"I know you feel guilty—"
"You know nothing," he interrupted her harshly, his voice clearly indicating he meant this to be the end of the discussion.
"But I feel guilty, too."
Her admission apparently gave him pause, because for a long moment he seemed to hold his breath.
"Whatever for?"
She sighed.
"I shut you out," she said quietly. "Just like you're doing now. I thought you had lied to me. I felt betrayed and sorry for myself…" She cleared her throat. This would be so much easier if he would just read her thoughts. "It's like you said this morning. Every lie, even the ones I told myself, is poisoning us, weakening us. Azula wouldn't stand a chance against the two of us if we were at our best. If we fought together. Ty Lee could never even dream of coming close to you if you were at the top of your game. Mai had to die, because I made us weak with my…"
She stopped. Why was it her again who was pouring out her heart for him to examine, when he – clearly the one of them with the bigger issues – refused communication altogether?
"With your?" he prompted.
"Jealousy," she ground out.
He said nothing. He didn't even make some sort of noise that indicated he had heard her. He was just completely silent.
By the time they reached the outskirts of the forest, Katara was about ready to fall asleep on top of the ostrich-horse. Night had settled swiftly over the sky, leaving them in an eerie darkness, not even lit by moonlight. While heat had plagued them during the day, the night air grew cold rather rapidly. Repeatedly, shivers raced over Katara's skin and she wished she could just melt into the warm body behind her.
Zuko guided them with a fire he held in his hand, but Katara could feel that he was at least as tired as she was.
She revived for a moment when she heard the lively gurgling of water.
"There's a creek up ahead," she said. "Maybe we should camp there for the night."
He said nothing – surprisingly – but nonetheless guided the horses along a narrow path that seemed to lead closer to the water.
A few minutes later, the path ended on the banks of the little stream that cheerfully tumbled over rocks and stones, the soft lively murmuring of water like music in Katara's ears.
After the lifelessness of the desert they had crossed today, the sound of water, the rustling of leaves, the scent of wet earth and fresh grass almost made her forget her fatigue.
Zuko dismounted the horse first and then helped her down.
Wordlessly, they unpacked their sleeping pelts and various utensils for a quick meal.
Zuko lightened a little campfire while Katara washed the day's dust and grime from her skin and hair, and filled her waterskin.
They chewed on their food in utter silence.
Katara had wrapped herself in a thick blanket but was still shivering. She had stopped counting how often Zuko had already refilled his cup with water and downed it in one gulp.
"We have to meditate." She was pointing out what should be obvious.
Zuko glowered at the flames.
"I can't," he said after a while and threw back another cup of water. "We should go to sleep."
"You know it won't get better while we sleep," she said, not particularly keen on meditating either. "You'll go mad with thirst and I'll probably freeze to death."
He glowered some more.
She sighed.
"This morning, when you said we needed to meditate, I didn't want to because of what happened that time before. But I was sensible and did it anyway."
He shook his head. Obviously, sense was too much to be expected.
"I was frightened and I guess still a bit angry," she continued. "But something happened during our connection that made me trust you again, made me forgive you."
He looked up at her.
"You did forgive me," he stated in an odd tone, as if he knew exactly what she meant.
"I had a vision this morning," he explained at her vacant stare, "and I've seen you in that vision. You forgave me."
It should be laughable, but weird as it was, his words made perfect sense to her.
"Maybe…" she started, but he cut her off.
"I can't, Katara," he said, desperation lacing voice. "I… I am so full of negative feelings right now, so full of sorrow and hatred and guilt… I don't know what I'll do to you when we're connected. You're better off freezing than traipsing around in my head."
Her teeth chattered as another bout of shivers chased over her skin. He gave her a pained look and emptied another cup of water.
As tired as she was, she couldn't bring herself to go to sleep. She knew she would wake up feeling even worse, so as little as it was, talking to him at least was some connection, even it wasn't enough.
"Did you love her?" she asked after long minutes of silence.
"No," he said without having to think about it. "But now I wish I had. Her death would be less useless."
Her eyes flew open.
"It wasn't useless," she protested. "Mai meant to save your life, and she did."
Zuko closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.
"You don't understand," he said.
"Then explain it to me."
He chewed on his bottom lip and even in the flickering light of the dying campfire could she see the small cracks forming on his lips. He didn't just feel the thirst, he actually looked dehydrated.
"What Mai did…" he said but trailed off. He took another gulp of water. "See, Fire-Nation women are said to be fierce and determined, especially when defending and protecting their loved ones. The concept of Benso-Nori is as old as the Fire-Nation itself."
"Benso-Nori?" she asked quietly, impossibly relieved that he was finally talking.
"Benso-Nori is an ancient law. The woman's sacred right to defend her chosen mate and the children she has born him. Even if what the man did was outside the law, the woman can't be punished for defending and protecting him. Had Mai lived, Azula couldn't have brought charges against her for helping a traitor, as long as Mai claimed Benso-Nori."
He was silent for a while but Katara knew he had more to say.
"She died because she considered me her mate, while I didn't feel the same about her."
Katara shivered and nodded.
"How long had you known her?" she asked to avoid another lull in the conversation.
"Forever."
Katara looked at him questioningly.
"Mai and Ty Lee practically grew up with Azula. Their fathers are high-ranking generals in the Fire-Nation army."
An absurd picture of a miniature Azula, Mai and Ty Lee was suddenly in Katara's head, all of them dressed in cute Fire-Nation dresses and playing with dolls.
"They never played with dolls," Zuko said.
Katara glared at him.
"Why can you read my thoughts and I not yours?"
"I was reading your face," he said with a shadow of a grin.
He cleared his throat a few times, sounding hoarse and scratchy. Definitely dehydrated.
Katara's fingers and toes felt numb.
"I could try to show you," he offered. "My childhood. If we don't touch what happened today, maybe you'll be safe."
She bit her lip to keep herself from pointing out that everything was safer than dying of hypothermia.
He crawled over to her, visibly weak, and took her hand.
"Your fingers feel like ice," he said.
"I've noticed," she said through chattering teeth.
He smiled a bit. "If I drink any more water, it'll come out of my ears."
Then he grabbed her fingers a little bit more firmly.
"Close your eyes and don't let go of my hand. Follow my voice."
He gathered a flame from the campfire to him, while Katara drew the water from his refilled cup.
The two elements wound around each other like two lovers in an embrace.
She moaned with pleasure at the contact. She would never grow used to the delight of that first moment. Like coming into a warm house after hours in a blizzard, like crawling into a heap of cosy furs, like thawing one's freezing feet in front of a glowing fireplace.
She basked in the warmth for a while, only from afar hearing Zuko's throaty groans of relief.
Zuko?
Around her everything was black, which was not surprising since she had her eyes closed.
I'm here. Don't open your eyes. Try to imagine me in your mind.
Nothing easier than this. In the midst of the black void stood Zuko as she had seen him last, only that he looked a bit healthier now, refreshed and strong.
Can you see me talking to you?
She could indeed see his lips moving in synch with the thoughts she heard, giving the illusion of speech. He squeezed her hand encouragingly.
"Now imagine the palace."
He had barely said that – or thought it – when he was suddenly standing in one of the miles-long corridors of the palace, that seemed to have no end and no beginning.
With sure strides, he led her along the corridor. She looked over at him and almost grinned at the fact that he looked so different from the stately Fire-Nation prince she had met back in that palace. Not only because of the Earth-Kingdom clothes he wore. Without the topknot, his hair fell loosely around his face, grown to almost shoulder-length. She had to admit that he looked rather fetching with longer hair. She had never cared much for that ponytail, though.
During her musings regarding Zuko's hair style, they had reached a large door, and when Zuko pushed it open they stood in a lovely garden.
The centrepiece was a large, finely curved pond with a low bridge leading from one side to the other. A setting sun spilled orange light into the garden and birds chirped in the artfully cut trees and hedges. Katara could even smell the exotic flowers in the air. If this was a vision, it was a very realistic one.
A family of turtle-ducks swam peacefully across the unruffled surface, two little ones behind their mother.
"They are cute," she said, looking to Zuko, but his attention was riveted to the side of the pond.
From there, a childish giggle erupted, followed by a melodic female laugh. A woman sat on the ground, clad in long flowing robes, holding a little boy on her lap and tickling him playfully.
"Is that your mother?" Katara asked, already knowing the answer. "She is so beautiful."
When he didn't reply, she looked over to him. Tears were streaming down his face, and as he caught her looking, his lips twitched in an apologetic smile.
"I can't hide from you here," he said. "And yes, she is beautiful. I used to think she was the most beautiful woman in the world."
Katara smiled at the loving play between mother and son.
"Tiny Zuko," she exclaimed with feigned rapture. "You were so cute!"
He gave her a hard stare, but because of the wetness in his eyes it rather lacked conviction.
Then, as if a shadow had fallen over the sun, a dark presence seemed to enter the garden. Zuko tensed at her side.
Katara could see the man only from behind, but she guessed that he was the man who would later become Fire-Lord Ozai.
Both mother and son scrambled upright as they saw him, bowing respectfully.
"Zuko," he said, in a surprisingly pleasant baritone. "I wish to speak to your mother."
The little boy bowed again, chanced a quick look at the towering form of his father and then all but ran from his presence.
"Ursa," the man thundered when little Zuko had vanished. "What did I tell you about mollycoddling our son? How do you expect him to grow into a warrior, into this nation's leader, if you keep treating him like an infant?"
Ursa kept her eyes to the ground, but even from afar could Katara sense a certain air of defiance in the way she carried herself.
"He is a child, my lord. He needs love just like any other boy."
Ozai took a threatening step toward his wife, and Katara could feel Zuko stiffen even more, his hand holding hers in a bruising grip.
"He is not like any other boy," Ozai said not loud, but with unmistakable menace. "He is a prince, and he's enough of a disgrace without you turning him into even more of a wimp."
A lone tear rolled down Ursa's cheek, but she still kept her face hidden from her husband.
"I just wish he were a little bit more like his sister," Ozai said and then turned.
Now Katara had to cling to Zuko's hand for dear life, while she covered her mouth with the other to stifle a cry of surprise.
Every time she had tried to imagine the Fire-Lord's face, she had come up with something hideous, something more monster than man.
But in reality, Ozai was easily the most handsome man Katara had ever seen. Long black hair framed an evenly cut face with high cheekbones, a straight nose and a strong, angular jaw. Bright, golden eyes shone beneath straight black eyebrows.
He looked exactly like she thought Zuko would look in a few years. Minus Zuko's scar, of course.
"He seems so young," she whispered after Ozai had walked past without noticing them.
"A male member of the royal family is expected to be married by the time he is eighteen years of age. My parents were both sixteen when they tied the knot, seventeen when I was born."
"Tied the knot?" she asked.
"It's the wedding ceremony, we—"
"I know," she interrupted. "I was just asking because it's called the same in our culture; it's probably a similar ceremony."
They walked toward Ursa, who stood still like a statue where her husband had left her. Then something else occurred to Katara.
"But your uncle seems so…"
"Old?" Zuko finished for her.
"I was looking for a more flattering adjective."
"He is much older than father," Zuko said with a shrug. "They're only half-brothers. Azulon married again after his first wife died. My father is the son from his second marriage. That's why no one believed Azulon would make my father his successor. It was said that grandfather had truly loved his first wife and always gave preference to Iroh."
"Why do you think he changed his mind?"
"I don't think he did," Zuko said darkly.
Katara would have asked him to elaborate, but just at that moment a noise like a horde of shrieking lemurs came from behind them and they leaped out of the path of what sounded like imminent danger.
It turned out that the shrieking lemurs were three little girls, chased by one wet Fire-Nation prince.
"Zuko," his mother reprimanded him. "Be polite to your sister and her friends."
"They dunked me!" he said with all the indignation his little self could muster. Which seemed a lot. "Azula put them up to it."
Katara was enjoying herself immensely. Not only did she find little Zuko just too cute for words, the three miniatures of his sister and her friends almost made her laugh out loud. How different they looked from the three deadly warriors they had become. Or dead warriors, in Mai's case.
Speaking of Mai, one had to be blind not to see the adoring look in her eyes as she gazed at Zuko. Probably she only learned much later how to shield her emotions.
"We didn't dunk him; dumb-dumb fell into the pond by himself," Azula sniped.
"Because you almost set Mai on fire!" little Zuko shrieked in a rather undignified way.
Ursa levelled a dark look at her youngest.
"Is that true?" she asked.
Azula opened her mouth, probably to tell another lie, when Mai stepped forward.
"Zuko tells the truth, my lady," she said in a tiny, wavering voice, visibly frightened to speak so candidly to the First Lady. "He saved me."
Ursa was now obviously angry with her daughter.
"Azula, I thought we agreed that you are not to use firebending while you're playing with your friends!"
Azula was apparently smart enough to know when to declare defeat. She assumed a contrite posture and lowered her eyes.
"Yes, mother, I am sorry. It won't happen again."
Little Zuko looked smug, Mai looked at him with something akin to hero-worship.
Then, suddenly, they were alone.
The sun had set and only the faint light of dusk still illuminated the garden.
"She always liked you," Katara said unnecessarily.
Zuko walked with her to pond, staring glumly at the turtle-ducks that slept with their heads tucked into their shells.
"I know she did. That's why I thought it smart to make her my wife. I knew I had to marry eventually, and that I would have precious little choice which girl would be my wife. There are only so many girls of noble birth. And Mai always liked me. Not because I was the prince, but because of… me, personally. And I knew that this was the best I could hope for. A woman who liked me, who would be loyal to me, whatever happened, whatever I did. With all the intrigue and backstabbing going on at court, a loyal wife could mean the difference between life and death.
"She was always there for me, she never denied me anything. In return I…"
He stopped talking and dragged his hand through his hair.
"What?"
"I dishonoured her, Katara. In the worst possible way. It's my prerogative as a male to take other women to my bed, but once I left with you, I exposed her to derision and pity. No man with an ounce of self-respect would have considered taking her as his wife after what I did. And when she came back to demand from me that I restore her honour, I hurt her even more."
"You did," Katara said evenly. "But she forgave you."
He snorted. "How do you know?"
"She saved your life, remember? She wouldn't have done it if she had not forgiven you."
"Katara is right."
They both whipped around at the familiar voice behind them, and almost fell backwards into the pond. Only that there wasn't a pond behind them anymore. Around them was just darkness. Katara felt like her blood was freezing in her veins.
In front of them stood Mai – floated, actually – her hands bound, a scorch-mark right above her heart, her eyes glassy and lifeless.
Katara had to remind herself forcefully that this was a vision. She took a quick look over at Zuko, but he wasn't much better off than she was. If she had ever believed that his pale skin couldn't turn any whiter, she was proven wrong.
"Mai," he rasped.
"I knew you never loved me, Zuko," the apparition said. "I chose to ignore that, thinking it didn't matter. I was wrong."
"I am sorry, Mai," Zuko said. "I wasn't… I didn't mean to… I know I was selfish, but I never meant to hurt to you. I know it is no excuse for my behaviour and I don't know how to ask your forgiveness, how to repay you for saving my life."
"I am dead, Zuko," Mai pointed out sensibly. "It's too late for a great many things."
Zuko's head dropped to his chest, making him look like a scolded schoolboy.
Mai smiled.
"But you can give me a promise."
"Whatever you wish, Lady Mai."
Mai's smile turned benign at his respectful address.
"You can promise to do everything in your power to defeat your father and sister. You can promise to honour my sacrifice by leading a long and happy life."
Zuko bowed to Mai.
"I promise to try."
A mischievous glint sparkled in Mai's dead eyes.
"And you can promise to name one of your children after me."
They both gasped. Then they grew silent as a little girl appeared out of the dark. She looked at them with wide blue eyes, her long black hair adorned with the tiny crown of a Fire-Nation princess.
"Mommy? Daddy?" she asked, puzzled.
A powerful feeling surged through Katara at the sound of the girl's voice. Somehow she knew who she was.
"Mai," Katara whispered and reached out with her free hand. But before she could touch the girl, she vanished.
"I think that's settled then," Mai said.
Zuko bowed again.
"I give you my word, Lady Mai, that we will honour your wishes."
Since Zuko had said 'we', Katara felt compelled to bow too. It was, after all, the least she could do.
As quickly as she had appeared, Mai was gone, leaving them alone in the black void.
Tiredness gripped Katara's mind and body. Not the exhaustion she felt when they needed to meditate, just good old fatigue.
"Hold me," she whispered to Zuko.
He let go of her hand and enveloped her in his arms, apparently glad at her request, judging by the fierceness of his embrace.
And then the darkness swallowed them.
………
For a wonderful eternity, Zuko drifted through a sea of darkness. Not the fearful kind of darkness, the one where monsters lurked and horrors and pain. But a darkness that wrapped him in black silk, soft and smooth. He did not feel hunger or thirst, he wasn't cold or too warm, and he did not feel pain or sorrow. He was rested and strong. Everything was just right, just perfect.
He felt surrounded by a shield of something powerful, something eternal and good. And he never wanted to leave the place that held him with such comfort.
His senses returned to him one by one. First the sense of hearing: birds chirping, a nearby stream murmuring, sounding like fresh water. A breeze of air rustling the leaves above.
A clearing in a wood.
He remembered a clearing.
Smell was next. Fresh grass, wood-smoke… and woman. Warm and sleepy.
Katara.
The rest of his senses snapped to attention, even though he kept his eyes closed with the trained patience of a warrior.
His head rested on something comfortable, and in his hand he held something soft, and warm… and round. A few pieces of rough cloth separated his hand from naked skin, but he knew that his left hand cupped Katara's breast.
He smiled to himself. His smile grew wider as he felt a gentle hand softly caressing his hair. Maybe he could pretend to sleep just a few minutes longer.
I know you're awake. I can feel it. Stop thinking smug thoughts.
He feared the idiotic wide grin would stay permanently on his face if he didn't stop at once. Problem was he couldn't.
If you knew exactly what I'm thinking, you'd be running as fast as you could.
A girlish giggle fluttered through her chest, he could feel it vibrating through his hand.
Don't flatter yourself. I might not be able to read all your thoughts, but I can read what's poking into my thigh.
Still smiling, he opened his eyes and propped himself upright. Hesitantly, he drew his hand away from its comfortable resting place, vowing he would put it back there soon.
He turned his head to find her smiling up at him. It was a breath-taking, heart-stopping sight.
With a rush, everything came back to him. The horrible events of the day before. Them bleeding strength, hurting with its loss. The meditation. Pictures of the past – and the future.
But it couldn't touch him anymore. He could look into her eyes, deep and blue, like the sea on a calm day, and everything was still perfect. His soul sighed in relief at the temporary absence of torment and sorrow.
His fingertips traced the contours of her face, along the side, up to her brow, along the eyebrows and down the bridge of her nose. Her mouth opened on an exhale as he touched her lips, and she lifted her chin to accommodate his roving fingers as they glided down the column of her neck to the V of her dress. He reverently touched the skin at the edges of her dress, not venturing farther, but moving upwards again, his fingertips dipping into the hollow at her throat.
Through all of this, she looked at him, unwavering and fearless. And he knew in that moment that they were connected by more than their elements, by more than the thoughts they shared, or the energy that flowed through both of them.
"She had your eyes," he murmured.
Her hand was back in his hair again, softly stroking and inexorably pulling him toward her.
"And your hair," she said.
He was caught in a moment of magic. He knew that at some point, maybe just a few minutes from now, the world would start turning again, reality would set in and everything would be as bad as ever. But this moment belonged to him.
"When I saw her," he whispered, "I knew I loved her. I knew she was mine."
"I felt that too."
"I want that, Katara," he said, more urgently because he felt that time was running out. "All of that. I want that future, even if it scares you. I—"
"Shh," she said, a smile glittering in her eyes. "It doesn't scare me. Not anymore."
The idiotic wide grin was still on his face. The corners of his mouth were already starting to hurt.
Not that he cared.
"Now what does a girl have to do to get a kiss around here?"
tbc
Please review.