Even more fanart, this time, by Vidar5: www. deviantart . com/ deviation / 49449475/

Chapter Twenty-Five

Zuko curtly nodded to guards on the night watch as he passed them, trying to look as casual as he could, but not quite achieving it since most of the soldiers were unused to being acknowledged by the moody, self-absorbed royal. But what did they expect, really? He had important places to be!

That's what he told himself, anyhow.

He stopped at one intersection and stooped, pretending to adjust his boot as two patrolling guards walked by, saluting him neatly before continuing on. The Firebender scanned the corridors then swerved left, peering around the corner quickly to make sure his Uncle wasn't near.

He paced down the hallway and hurried up the stairs, hearing no one else in this section, and came to the corridor where the girl's room was. The guard had been dismissed for dinner, it seemed, and Zuko was instantly irked. What if the Waterbender had snuck out to try to free the Avatar and her brother? He would report this fatal oversight to Jee at the next opportunity and make sure someone paid for their carelessness...

But Uncle seemed to trust that Katara would not try anything and would remain aboard until the duel. That she hadn't attempted to escape these past three days must have indicated something—determination, optimism, whatever it was that kept her spirits up and her chin high. It made Zuko shake his head with disgust.

But a good portion of that disgust wasn't aimed at the Water Tribe girl: it was aimed at himself. Why was he even here, anyhow? He refused to believe he was that curious about what his old relative was talking to the girl about. He couldn't possibly be that desperate to know what she had to say….

He stood there a long while, a few feet from Katara's door, staring sightlessly at the studded steel bulkhead, trying to come up with a valid reason why he should be breaking all the rules of Agni Kai sequestration. Nothing about this whole affair had sat right with him since she'd challenged him. It just didn't make any sense.

This, then, he reasoned, was a matter of honour. It would only be right, he told himself as he set his shoulders, that he personally inform her, an inferior Waterbender woman, that he had all the advantages over her when it came to the sparring ring. Uncle would understand: he knew his old relative didn't approve of this fight. Zuko was even a little flattered that the retired general knew without a doubt that his nephew would crush the little girl.

Yes, that was it. He was a prince. He could afford to dispense some mercy. Ally or enemy, he had no wish to hurt a little girl.

Not much, anyhow.

He raised a fist to bang out a knock, but the heavy door, already ajar, swung soundlessly open a few inches. Zuko jumped back from the portal, ducking out of his Uncle's line of sight. He pressed himself against the wall by the door and listened.

"…really should reconsider." The old man's rumble was interrupted by a loud slurp. Tea, of course. "You know how well-trained Prince Zuko is, not just as a Firebender, but in the deadly martial arts and weapons, as well. He will not give the Avatar up easily."

"It doesn't matter." Katara's voice was soft but firm. "I will fight him with everything I have. This is as much about Sokka and Aang as it is about…whatever this is between Zuko and me."

Zuko felt his cheeks heat. So they were talking about him! He leaned in closer as his uncle went on. "My dear, you know there must be a better way. You and my nephew…well, you could work something out together. It's not the end of the world."

"And what if it is? You know how important Aang is—what he means to the war!" she exploded.

Zuko chewed on his tongue, a searing stab of jealousy lancing through him. Was she still intent on rescuing that little boy?

"There are alternatives," Iroh insisted calmly. "And if I know my nephew half as well as I think, he doesn't want to see you hurt. None of us do."

"I can't…I have to fix this. But it's not…that is, he and I…" She dithered, making fussing noises.

Iroh cut in. "You know he likes you, don't you?"

Zuko held his breath. Katara made no audible response.

"It's not a bad thing for a young man his age." Iroh chuckled. "Why, I'd be worried if he wasn't attracted to a pretty girl like you!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Katara said wryly, and the general laughed. Her soft, reluctant chuckle made the prince's heart smile.

"You know, given the chance, Zuko can be very compassionate and kind. He's had a difficult and unusual youth, and a rather rough childhood." There was a long pause, and the prince imagined the Water girl turning this over in her mind with a cute, thoughtful pout of her lips. "Despite all that, you have to admit he's quite a catch."

Though he knew Uncle Iroh dispensed compliments so freely, he was nonetheless a little flattered. The old man always did know how to pump up a guy's ego. But this wasn't singing his praises…this was honest. Earned, he felt. Zuko knew he wasn't exactly a ladies' man, or a compassionate man, or a leader that everyone respected. Zhao had certainly made it clear that his loyalty did not lie with the crown prince. That anyone would vouch for Zuko made him feel…validated.

And then his uncle teasingly sang, "You're blush-ing."

Prince Zuko wiped the silly grin off his face and focused on the rest of their conversation.

"Tell me, Katara. When…I mean, if you lose the Agni Kai, what will you do afterwards?"

"I don't intend to lose," she said stiffly, her voice going cold once more. "The only 'afterwards' is me, Sokka, Aang and Momo riding away on Appa."

Zuko grimaced. A few days ago, the Avatar's lemur had gone missing. Zuko had searched the ship on his own, but hadn't bothered to tell anyone else apart from his uncle about the escapee. After a fruitless day of searching, he concluded that Momo must have snuck out when no one was looking. The ungrateful little beast, he scowled to himself. Well, he could consider his life debt paid!

"Momo? Ah, yes, the lemur," Iroh rumbled. "Prince Zuko was taking care of him on his own, you know. He fixed his wounds, fed him, and had him cleaned up."

To his eternal gratitude, the old man didn't say anything about owing the lemur a life-debt to the girl. Still, Katara sounded sceptical, if not incredulous.

"Really," she deadpanned.

"Absolutely. My word of honour on it. Like I said, he can be very compassionate."

"If that's true, I want to see Momo and make sure he's being fed properly."

Zuko cringed.

"Er, well, you see, after his wounds had healed, Zuko…" he wavered. "He let him go."

"He. Let. Momo. Go."

"That's right."

"So he let the lemur go, but is keeping me and my brother here?"

"Oh, well, you and your brother are far more…er, dangerous to his mission."

"Riiiight."

Zuko shook his head, knowing this would come back to bite him sooner or later, and made a mental note to find the lemur.

The two lapsed into silence for a while, and he waited with bated breath for his uncle to say something else about him. The drawn-out quiet was punctuated by sips and slurps, and the clink of teacups.

"So," Iroh chimed in, "do you have a boyfriend back home waiting for you?"

Katara emitted a wet, spluttering, choking noise. "What?"

"I was just asking—"

"I heard you," she said, flustered. "And if you must know, no. All the men of our tribe went to war." The bitterness in her voice was evident. "Sokka is—was—the eldest male in the village."

An uneasy quiet settled. "I see." Iroh's response sounded contrite, but Zuko knew how subtle his esteemed relative could be. "It's a shame," he went on softly. "I know what it's like…to have so many people—family and friends and so on—disappear on you. It can't be easy for you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you." Katara's apology was sincere. "You caught me off guard, is all."

"All's forgiven," Iroh said. And they lapsed into another comfortable silence before he carefully inquired once more.

"So, Katara…" And the real interrogation began. Had she had many boyfriends? Had she met any nice boys on her journey? Was she promised to anyone yet? Were there many good-looking boys in the South Pole? What kind of boy was she looking for? Did she care what nation they were from?

Iroh's firm but plaintive badgering technique, reminiscent of an adolescent girl at a slumber party, had been used before, Zuko knew, whenever he was questioning a crew member about some disciplinary measure he needed to deal with. The gentle tone usually had great results…if the subject of the interrogation had been softened up a bit first, usually by an irate Lieutenant Jee.

But Katara outright refused to answer any of his questions, to Zuko's dismay, and the young Firebender had the urge to fetch the Lieutenant. That is, until his uncle asked The Question.

"So, what do you think of my nephew?"

The prince could hear his heart pounding in his head, and his palms turned moist. He growled at himself. This was ridiculous! Why should he care what she thought of him? He was here to do her a favour—to talk her out of the Agni Kai and save herself the pain and humiliation of a swift and merciless defeat.

But her soft, earnest reply quelled his raging thoughts. "I don't know what to think anymore." A pause. "He's…well, I guess he's just doing what he thinks is right… Right for him, I mean. And that's all we can do, isn't it? What we think is right, even if we don't know any better. It's something I suppose I can understand…and admire."

His mouth went dry. She admired him? His heart did a little pirouette.

"Do you think he's…cute?"

"I am NOT answering that!" Her tone was indignant, but a telling giggle burst from her lips, and Zuko was caught between dancing and despairing. How could she possibly think him as "cute"? The Avatar's lemur was cute. A dancing platypus-bear in a tutu was cute. He was…well…not cute. He tried to find a word for himself, but striking was the only thing that came to mind. Yes, striking. Even with the blasted scar, he was a wholly striking figure. Yeah. That didn't sound too self-deprecating or egoistical…

Even so… He allowed himself to pump his fists in the air in triumph before fixing his face into a scowl once more. She thinks I'm cute!

"Well, my dear, if I can't talk you out of the Agni Kai tonight, I can only bid you a good evening and try again tomorrow." Zuko heard the clinking of porcelain as his uncle gathered the tea set together. He backed into the shadows as Iroh's soft shuffle neared the portal. "You already know you don't have to do this. I don't wish to see either of you hurt. But you should know that Prince Zuko is kind and generous and courteous, despite outward appearances, and you two could have a wonderful time together as friends, short or long-term. Just…be honest with yourself, Katara. And be honest with my nephew, for once. Because only the truth will set you free."

"You've given me much to think about, General Iroh." Katara's voice was soft.

Zuko's stomach somersaulted when the door opened. He ducked behind a bunch of crates stacked in one corner as his uncle stepped past the jamb. "I will leave you to your thoughts, then. Good night."

Iroh exited and shut the door. He walked away from the hiding prince, humming sonorously, the empty teacups chiming with each jouncing step. To the prince's everlasting ire, his uncle hadn't even called for a guard to be posted at Katara's door; didn't even lock it behind him. As a test, he waited and watched to see if the girl would emerge, but after nearly twenty minutes of lurking in the dust, she made no appearance.

This is as much about Sokka and Aang as it is about…whatever this is between Zuko and me.

He wished she had said more about him. He couldn't believe Uncle wasn't more curious and hadn't probed further. What was going on between them? Did she know something Zuko didn't? For that matter, did Uncle?

Damn old people and their wisdom. If only it came as easily to him.

Zuko hesitated a minute longer in front of that door before making his move. If he didn't do it now, the guard would return, spot him, and probably snitch on him to the retired general.

His heart sped up as he turned the handle and let the steel door swing slowly open until it clanged against the inner wall. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimness.

The long awning window framed the evening sky, a swath of royal blue thickening with dark grey clouds. Katara sat cross-legged in the middle of the room near the back wall, facing a table with four lit candles lined up on its surface, almost exactly like his was in the room below. A cursory glance around told him this room was, in fact, identical to his, minus the personal effects. He'd wondered these past few nights about her quarters, how she slept, if she snored…

His mind snapped back to the present as he observed her, her rigid back to him, her long, dark braid hanging against a field of faded sky-blue. She sat there silently, as though meditating, and Zuko yearned to say something brilliant, like "I meditate too!" But no words of wonder came to him.

He realized he was just staring at her when she spoke.

"You're not supposed to be here."

The surprisingly soft cadence of her words startled the Fire prince. He had expected her to yell at him and attempt to throw him out, but she just sat there. He leaned against the door jamb, arms folded over his chest, forcing a smirk onto his lips, hoping his easy manner would unnerve her somehow. But the tactic was deflected back upon him: her perfect calm was making his gut twist tensely.

"I'm a prince," he shot back haughtily, overcompensating with the intensity of his assertion. "And this is my ship. I can be wherever I please, whenever I please."

Just to show he'd been bolstered by this spoken conviction, he stepped past the threshold.

"Close the door behind you," Katara said quietly.

The whispered directive jarred him. He had expected this confrontation to involve a lot more screaming and name calling. Now that he was here, he realized he had, in fact, been itching for a battle of words. A heated conversation. Blows, even. He had not anticipated this reserved young woman to simply sit there and be polite.

Now that he thought about it, he had no idea why he'd come, risking a severe talking-to (or much, much worse, if they intended to follow the code of Agni Kai strictly) from his uncle if he were caught. His noble intentions had slipped away from him, and seemed completely nonsensical after what he'd heard. He'd already established Katara's objectives, knew there was no way he could convince her to back out of a fight she couldn't win. So why did he feel like he had to see her?

The prince hung back a moment, thinking he should just throw a scathing comment in the peasant's direction and run, but instead, he stepped farther in and shut the door, closing off his only escape. The light from the lamps in the corridor disappeared and the room was suddenly too dark and too small to hold both of them. He became hyperaware of his skin, his body heat, the brush of his hair against the back of his neck, and the way the girl in the room was affecting all that.

He could sense a great deal of patience and strength radiating from the meditating Waterbender, who still refused to turn and face him, and he did not move from his place less than two long strides behind her. He didn't know how long he stood there, listening to her deep, rhythmic breathing—inhale…hold…exhale. Inhale…hold…exhale. It was like listening to the rush of the ocean as it passed over the shore, and Zuko felt himself drifting on a sea of serenity.

"Since your uncle left, I've been sitting here, thinking," Katara's mellow voice made Zuko open his drooping eyelids, "about the time on the cursed island."

His heart lurched. So she did remember—but how much? What was he supposed to say in response? What did she want to hear? What was he supposed to do? Apologize for letting her kiss him? Maybe she wanted him to kiss her now. His heart began a thunderous hammering as he struggled for a dignified retort.

But the Water girl didn't give him a chance to speak. "I didn't remember what had happened…how I got back to that waterfall or how I ended up…doing certain things…" her soft, measured words were spoken hesitantly, "But I do now. I think I figured it all out."

The line of her shoulders tightened. "It was you, wasn't it? You saved me from…something. Something that nearly got you killed." Her head tilted up, but she still faced away from him. "Why did you do it, Zuko? Why did you save me when you could have run?"

He was glad that she wasn't looking at him. If she had been, she would have seen the answer in his eyes.

Because I had to! Because I think I'm in love with you but damn it, I don't know anymore! You confuse me and make me angry and sad and happy all at the same time and I don't know what to do about it! I feel like an idiot, and it feels great, but gods, I think I'm going to drown in my own idiocy! I saved you because I had to! I had to! Because, because, because…

His mouth felt like it was full of sand and he had to clamp it shut to keep a desert from pouring out. He could say none of these things. Moreover, he wouldn't. Ever. He could not give her this, his confession, his soul. He would give this girl nothing if he got nothing in return. He didn't think there was anything left in him to give…

"I wouldn't be here…alive right now if it wasn't for you." She turned her head slightly, giving him a view of her delicate, downcast profile. He could see every eyelash delineated by the glow of the candles, one of her hair loops hanging enticingly against her cheek. Zuko clenched his jaw. He longed to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, brush a thumb against her soft skin…

His fantasy shattered as she added, "I wouldn't be here…ready to defeat you."

"You really think you will beat me, peasant?" Zuko found his arrogance and latched on, layering it on thick, armouring his thinning defences. "Even hand to hand, your brother couldn't land a blow on me if I had both arms tied behind my back. What, you think your fancy new clothes will save you?" He pointed at the ugly green dress hanging over the back of a chair. "I bet that's not even fireproof."

"No." Katara stood and turned to face him, rising to her feet smoothly. Zuko actually flinched at the set of her jaw, the look of cold determination carved into her dusky soapstone features. Her bright, sharp blue eyes seemed to glow.

She regarded him for an interminable moment, the expanse between them spanning a century of warfare and an ocean's worth of distance. She seemed to study him with the exactness of a gemologist appraising a diamond in the rough before declaring it of the first water—the clearest, the brightest, the highest quality. Zuko held his breath under her gaze. For some inexplicable reason, he felt utterly naked.

That thought alone brought a surge of heat to his cheeks. Mortified that he was actually blushing in front of her, he looked away.

Then, Katara's features relaxed, almost in relief, her eyes softening in the dim candlelight. It was, Zuko thought belatedly, as though some great conflict had finally ceased for her, or some burden of decision had been removed. Her lips twitched up, their softness in the gold hue of firelight making him swallow dryly. She took a step forward.

"Are you so certain you'll defeat me?" she asked quietly, radiating even greater strength in peace now.

Zuko stared hard at her, unsure of the game she was playing this time. He snarled, as if the sound would immunize him against her wiles, and asserted, "I will."

Katara took another step toward him. "If you're so sure, why are you fighting me?"

"You're the one who issued the challenge!" Zuko exclaimed indignantly. "I came here to try to talk you out of the Agni Kai and make life easier for yourself and your brother. Do you really want to be thrown into the brig covered in burns, dishonoured and defeated?" The prince struggled to regain control of his voice, which had wavered into a near-panicked squeal.

"You won't do that, Zuko." Hearing his name spoken in such dulcet tones made his resolve melt. "You won't hurt me."

"Of course I will," he rasped, his voice faltering. The Firebender felt her nearness as she approached and planted his feet firmly, refusing to step back. Gods, she was beautiful, he thought, berating himself for being so vulnerable to a mere girl. He hadn't seen her in days. Her delicate beauty and robust will had become that much more potent in that time apart, it seemed. "You know I'll hurt you." The words felt as though they were being dredged up from somewhere deep inside.

"No," Katara stopped inches away, staring straight into his face. "You won't."

"What makes you so sure?" Zuko sneered in an effort to hide the emotions, the urges, threatening to strangle his heart. His hands clenched, fingers flexing at his side.

"Because—" Katara's eyes flickered over his face and down to his lips "—you like me."

Zuko's feet were bolted to the ground, but he swayed a little in that small, dark room, unsure of where his pendulous momentum would take him—stumbling backwards to the safety of the cool steel bulkhead, or pitching forward into the overwhelmingly enticing Water girl. If he was lucky, he might just faint and fall to the side.

Instead, he found himself teetering, knew even before the words were out of his mouth that this was the wrong thing to say, but still he said it.

"You flatter yourself, peasant," he hissed. "My only interest in you was as bait for the Avatar, nothing more. I may have lost my honour, but I do have some mercy, so I came here to graciously offer you and your pathetic brother a way out of the affairs of the Fire Nation. If you think—"

She stepped into his personal space, cutting off his tirade as her soft, curved front brushed up against his hard, masculine one.

"You like me," she asserted huskily. "You said it yourself." Katara's hand slipped around his neck as she closed the space between them, pressing her length against his body, which had been shocked into rigidity. She smiled wryly. "No take-backsies."

The first kiss was so brief, so sweet and fleeting, he swore he'd imagined it. The ghost of her lips on his would flutter away on his next exhalation…only, it didn't come.

"That's to say thank you," Katara whispered, her own breathing shallow, "for saving my life."

Zuko had run out of air. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. His whole being cried for more. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest, the warmth of her tiny thumb brazenly trailing over his flexing jaw. Her other hand rested lightly on his upper arm, squeezing his bicep just a little. His senses burned with her scent, her body, her heat. His whole world had suddenly narrowed to this moment, this tiny space they occupied and the infinitely tinier spaces in between them.

In the space of a heartbeat, her hazy, dream-filled eyes, big, beautiful, and indescribably blue, took on the hard, desperate quality of someone who needed. They bore into his soul, pleaded, begged, judged, scorched, brightened and burned him as though he were a dry leaf dancing above a raging bonfire. She had a fire all her own, he could almost taste it and knew he would if she granted him access in that next, awful, wonderful moment.

"Zuko…" She breathed tremulously, and he couldn't help himself. He leaned closer, moistening his lips, his eyes fluttering closed with anticipation.

"Zuko…" Katara whispered again, her lips nearer, her hot breath fanning over his skin. He bit back a moan, and found his hands had managed to fumble their way around her waist, clutching at the folds of her robe, her firm flesh burning beneath the cloth.

Her lips brushed his once more, languorous, tasting.

Something inside him exploded. Suddenly there was nothing else. He pulled her against him, hot mouth pressing against hers, wet and hard, the contact brief, experimental, but addictively thrilling. Nothing else mattered just now except that he feel, and he dipped his lips in once, twice, again, each tentative taste of her mouth bolder than the last

What had started as a gentle exploration morphed into something altogether different. Katara's response was almost violent as she opened and plunged her tongue in to mate with his. It soon became a battle of wills, of who would dominate the other. She clung to him possessively, her fingers working up his shoulders, one hand cupping the bare base of his scalp, soothing a path up the shorn curve to the base of his top knot, fingering the silken strands. Zuko was shocked by her eagerness, his own intentions and amorous ministrations escalating the more she took from him.

An animalistic growl rumbled through him, and he realized with a shock that they'd both made it. That feeling overwhelmed him, and his knees weakened, threatening the drag him down to the ground, taking Katara with him. At the same time, his feet were stumbling around, dragging and following her farther into the room…toward the bed.

In that horrible, wonderful moment, he knew that if she asked, he would give up the Avatar, give up his country, his honour, his throne—anything she asked for would be hers if only she would stay with him like this forever; stay like this and show him everything else a life with her had to offer.

He wanted, and he wanted badly, and even if she denied him the carnal pleasures his teenage body was screaming for, he knew he would not be disappointed because this was Katara, the real Katara, not some faker from some perverse game she played. And at the moment, she was his.

And somehow, more importantly, he knew he was hers.

For the time it took the brain to realize a star had just fallen out of the heavens, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation let go of everything he was, and he didn't know or care what would come next.

So he let the end come on a roll of thunder.

And lightning.

Reality was a hard, sharp sting, an immunizing needle against the fever that scorched his soul. The taste of girl still lingered in his senses, the heat of the Waterbender's palms branding his skin. He pulled away, lifting his chin, gold eyes wavering hazily. He hadn't seen that first strobe, but he did hear the deep, distant rumble. He thought it was the engine starting up or his own lurching heart pumping liquid fire through his veins; but no, it was thunder.

Another flash lit the awning window and Zuko, still clinging to the trembling Water girl, felt his heart stop and freeze over with dread.

Thunder. Lightning.

Rain.

The Agni Kai would begin. Now.

He looked down at Katara, her eyes heavy-lidded and glassy, her lips still parted, bereft of his touch, one that had barely been administered. She looked awed and frightened and, gods above, wanton. Zuko licked his lips and watched her lashes flutter at the sight, so close but not close enough.

"It hasn't started raining yet," Katara said urgently, barely above a whisper.

Zuko gripped her arms, remembering himself. "Revoke the challenge, Katara. You're the only one who can. We don't have to fight…" He reached up to touch her delicate cheek.

Her face fell. The next words came out on a choke. "I…I can't…"

Tenterhooks of anguish snagged at his heart. "Why not?" His voice cracked and he nearly shook her with exasperation.

But her expression shuttered. She looked into his face, eyes sparking with a potpourri of chaotic teenage emotion, and Zuko realized what she was saying, but didn't understand.

"Please, Zuko," she begged quietly. "Let Aang and Sokka go."

Ice raced through his veins. He released her and stepped away, his outraged refusal plain in his wide, yellow eyes, the heated rebuff unable to slide past his branded tongue.

"It hasn't started raining yet," she repeated softly, resigned. "Please…just make me believe it's real…" Her voice broke and faded. A tear rolled down her cheek as she leaned in again, her arms coiling around his middle. He was helpless against her touch, and just stood there as shock rocked through him. She hugged him tightly, her face buried in the crook of his neck. She gasped against him, hot breath feathering his pulse. "…Let the Avatar go free…and I'll stay with you. Forever."

Something inside him twisted and warped and strained against his entire being, a coil of tension wire ready to snap, a suspension bridge twisting in the gale of emotion. Anger, hurt, rage, grief…they heaved through him on a wild torrent, and yet his blood still boiled for her, his body yearning to merge with hers, his soul still crying to take her and make her his alone.

He could feel waves of energy pushing and pulling at him, the dual nature of his opposite in the Water Tribe girl both repulsing him and drawing him in, so much so that his internal war actually made him sway on the spot. What Katara offered him was not just herself…but a completely different life from the one he'd ever imagined, the one he'd only ever known.

And it was a gift that he would not, could not accept.

He despaired.

Those chaotic emotions funnelled through him, distilling into a potent drop of rage. But his wrath, under duress of his other stronger feelings he dared not name, failed him in this desperate moment when he could have gotten away, could have gone into the Agni Kai with a clear conscience.

Zuko let out a cry in anguish and hauled the Water girl closer, hoping to hurt her, to punish her. Their mouths crashed angrily, ravenously, but he could only taste the bitter tang of remorse.

On the next breath, he tore away from her, lips bruised, sick to his stomach, raw and numb with conflict. He stumbled back and turned away.

"I…I have to go." The room spun around him as he headed for the door. "I have to go," he repeated unsteadily. "The Agni Kai rules…penalty of death."

"You can't be caught here or you could be executed," Katara echoed in understanding, her voice thick and strangled.

Zuko nodded, unable to meet her eyes. What had he—what had they done? He blindly made his way out.

She stopped him at the door. "Why'd you even risk it? Why'd you do it?"

Zuko forced himself to meet her eye. She looked wholly vulnerable, a lone figure standing in that suddenly too-big room, dark blue eyes shining with tears. He wanted nothing more than to go back to her, to kiss away everything that hurt her, that hurt him, and never have to feel alone or helpless ever again.

Instead, he drew himself up, remembered he was a prince, and put every question she'd ever asked behind his response.

"Because…I had to."

He bolted.