AN: Okay guys, notes at the beginning because this chapter is rated M. You have been warned.

Chapter Nineteen

Metanoia

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before."

~Edgar Allan Poe~

Katara stared at the Fire Lord's face as she tried to absorb the shock of the news. The engagement token that belonged to her own mother seemed to constrict around her throat, the aqua stone growing heavy. Katara could only imagine what emotions were coursing through Zuko, because for so long she knew that Zuko had thought Ursa to be dead. And if she really were alive, well, then there was still hope for a reunion.

Katara squeezed Zuko's hands. "Are you sure you can trust what Meili says as truth, Zuko?" she asked tentatively. She was afraid that he would get his hopes up, only to be met with disappointment because Meili had lied. After all, the young woman had proved herself to be mentally unstable. Their little excursion in the Dragonbone Catacombs was a testament to that. She'd been willing to kill him for the sake of returning Ozai back to the throne… Katara didn't doubt she would lie about his mother if she thought it would appeal to her case in any way.

"I'm not sure of anything," Zuko said. "Meili and Azula were born master manipulators. It's the curse of bearing Ozai's genetics."

Katara pushed up on her knees so she could rest the palm of her hand on Zuko's cheek. "You're not like that," she told him adamantly. "You're nothing like your father."

"Maybe not, but it's because I make a concentrated effort."

A small smile skirted on the planes of Katara's mouth. "You can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better, but I know you, Zuko, and I mean what I said." She dropped her hand from his face and pulled herself to her feet. Katara sidled to the window, pulling back the heavy tapestry so she could view the twinkling stars in the night sky. "What is Meili bargaining with?" Katara asked.

"Her freedom," Zuko said, "in exchange for the location of where my mother is staying."

"And what did you tell her?"

Silence settled around the room. Katara turned her face, waiting for Zuko to reply. Finally, he said, "I told her nothing."

Katara turned away from the window and strode across the room to stand before him. "Don't you at least want to know?"

Zuko looked up, gaze locking with Katara's. "Of course I want to know," Zuko said, "but I can't grant her her freedom. Traditionally, the crimes that she's committed would result in her death. If the council agrees to give her a trial she'll be sentenced to life in prison."

Katara bit the inside of her lip. "You could lie," Katara suggested quietly.

Zuko met her look with a frown.

"Under the circumstances, I think it would be justified. You can tell her she can have her freedom once she gives up Ursa's location. It doesn't mean you have to follow through with it." Katara glanced away, cupping her left bicep in her palm.

"Is that what you would do, Katara?"

Katara turned away, cradling her arms to her chest as her gaze settled on the floor. She tried to put herself in Zuko's shoes. If the roles were reversed and it was her mother she had a possibility of finding–Katara would cross oceans and more to get her back–moral lines be damned. But Katara wasn't the Lord of the Fire Nation. People didn't look up to her the same way they looked up to him or the Avatar. Perhaps it wasn't possible to be selfish with this one.

Zuko pulled himself from his chair and took Katara into his arms. Her silence was answer enough. "I'll figure something out," he told her. "My uncle suggested that I sleep on it, and in the morning, perhaps I'll see the situation in a new light."

Katara chuckled, tightening her arms around Zuko. "That does sound like something he would say," she agreed. Zuko inhaled deeply, and Katara felt his chest expanding beneath her cheek. When he exhaled, she propped her chin on his sternum and looked up into his clear, golden eyes. She thought he looked tired, but she thanked the Ancestors that the color had returned to his face and he didn't seem at risk for fainting due to shock.

"I'm sorry I didn't come back to get you," Zuko said. "I must have lost track of the time after…"

"You don't need to apologize," Katara told him. "If I had learned what you did, I'm sure I would have wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a while, too. It's a lot to process."

"Yeah," Zuko sighed. "You must be exhausted by now, too. You were up for much longer than the healer would have warranted."

"I'm okay," Katara said, even though her entire body was sore and her limbs were wracked with exhaustion. "I've been through worse."

"Well, come on now, let's get you to bed." Zuko released his hold on Katara and began unfastening the golden threads that held his tunic collar together.

Heat suffused in Katara's cheeks. "Um, should I… Now that I'm conscious I mean–shouldn't I go back to the other room?" Katara cleared her throat.

"I wish you wouldn't," Zuko replied, tugging the fabric over his head.

A lump had risen in Katara's throat. The sides of her esophagus had constricted, making it near impossible to swallow. She'd seen him without his shirt of course, but most of those times had involved healing wounds, or life crises that prevented her from enjoying the view from a purely desire-filled perspective. She could see the scar on his abdomen–the mark she'd healed after that rebel soldier had plunged a knife into his gut. In the dim lighting, she could just make out the mark above his collarbone that she'd healed in the tunnels. There were other marks and scars that marred his lean musculature, and Katara wanted nothing more than to map out those paths with her fingertips.

"Would I be allowed?" Katara heard herself asking aloud.

A small, mischievous smile flirted with Zuko's lips. "I'm the Fire Lord."

"For the sake of propriety…" Katara licked her bottom lip, wondering why she was even trying to talk herself out of something she wanted so desperately, that even her core was ablaze with the wanting.

"If you're worried about propriety," Zuko said, "there are more secret tunnels and passageways through the palace that will keep you hidden if you do not wish to be seen." Zuko took a step forward, closer to Katara.

"It's just," Katara began, "you do have a certain reputation to uphold and I don't want people to think that I'm…" she broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

Zuko frowned. The light had dimmed in his eyes, and Katara watched as a sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I won't touch you Katara. Please," he said, "stay."

It was the 'stay' that broke her.

Katara's heart throbbed behind her breastbone; the physical ache so visceral that she pressed the heel of her hand to her chest. He'd misinterpreted what she'd been trying to convey, mistaking her desire to protect his title for rejection. "Zuko," she breathed his name. "I'm not going anywhere." She closed the distance, taking his hands in hers. "Tomorrow, when our friends sail away from the Fire Nation, I'm staying here. I'm staying with you."

Zuko's lips parted as Katara looked up into his golden eyes, watching as that light blazed anew. "Are you sure that's what you want?" A thin line creased his brow.

Katara nodded. "It's the only thing I'm certain of."

Zuko's hand framed Katara's face as his mouth came down to claim hers; the heat of his lips burning soul-deep. Katara closed her eyes, looping her arms around his neck to bring her body closer to his. His kiss tasted sweet as her mouth parted under his, and his tongue traced a blazing path across her lower lip. His hands were on her waist, fingertips toying with the knot in her satin belt. He made slow work of it, and Katara pushed him towards the bed for fear of her knees buckling if she didn't find something to hold her in place.

The mattress caught Zuko in the back of the knees and he fell back as Katara climbed on top of him, straddling his legs with her thighs. This was better she thought–and worse. Better because now she didn't have to worry about her legs collapsing out from under her, and worse because she'd unintentionally taken the reins. Zuko was looking up at her with wonder in his golden gaze; his fingers paused on her belt. Somehow, he'd managed to get the knot undone, and slowly, tantalizingly, he began to part the two halves of her robe.

Katara's breathing hitched as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric at her shoulders, his palms rolling over the top of them as the satin robe slid off her body. All that separated their skin was the thin material of her tunic. A delicious shiver skirted down Katara's spine, involuntarily making her wiggle against him. His eyes lulled as his hands anchored her hips. She savored the notion that she had been responsible for invoking that response in him, and it lit a new sort of yearning within her.

Katara leaned forward, mouth pressing to his carotid until she felt his heartbeat leap against her lips. She liked that too, and smiled against his skin as she spread kisses down the column of his throat. Zuko's fingertips were feather-light against her spine, sliding across her ribs until his thumb ventured over the curve of her breast and her nerve-endings sprang to life. A soft murmur of pleasure escaped Katara's throat, and a wash of embarrassment dusted the blades of her cheeks with color.

"I don't want you to hold back, Katara," Zuko told her, voice raspier than it had been moments before. "Don't be shy with me."

She wanted him to touch her like that again. Zuko leaned forward instead, teeth gently closing over a tight bud through her tunic. She could feel the heat of his lips through the thin fabric, and closed her eyes to the swell of pleasure he'd invoked–all the while wishing for the pesky layers of cloth to be torn away.

Their minds seemed to be in sync with one another. Zuko worked the hem of her shirt upwards, knuckles grazing the skin of her ribs as she lifted her arms to help him free her of her clothing restraints. There was a whisper of fabric as her tunic dropped to the ground and settled at Zuko's feet, and then a moment of appreciative silence. Katara watched Zuko's eyes flicker with heat and something else that darkened their color. His warm breath fanned against the exposed flesh of her chest before his hands moved to explore the newly uncovered skin. He cupped her breasts, and sparks ignited where he touched her. Katara covered the backs of his hands with hers, encouraging the pressure. Zuko shifted, bracing an arm against her back as he rolled her to the mattress. Their eyes met with longing, and Zuko's tongue explored the areas where his hands had just been. Katara arched into his mouth, eyes lulling as something warm began building in her core.

She needed something. The weight of his body, she thought–the feel of him pressing down on her. Katara reached for the waistband of his pants, somehow managing to hook her fingers around the fabric and gave them an impatient tug. It caught, and Zuko groaned, hand reaching out to close around her wrist.

"Sorry, sorry," she panted, straining to see what she had done wrong.

"It's okay," Zuko breathed, "just certain things are in the way now." He grinned at her, kissing her on the lips before rolling away. He stood before her, eyes shamelessly locked on her face as he removed his pants.

Katara's eyes glazed as she bit down on the inside of her cheek. "I-I don't think–"

"Shh," Zuko murmured, crawling back into bed. He pressed himself to the outline of Katara's body, close enough so that the heat coming from his skin became her own. She could feel the weight of his erection against her thigh as he delivered a kiss against her jaw. "Everything about you is perfect Katara," he said. His fingers pressed to her collarbone and traced a slow, heated path clear down to her navel; his touch eliciting another shiver. "I won't hurt you."

Katara couldn't remember a time in her life where she had ever felt so cherished. His words were a promise, and she could see the truth burning in his eyes. She reached for his shoulders, pulling him on top of her so that he could remove the one, final barrier between his skin and hers. She wondered if perhaps she ought to feel more shy, but the truth was she trusted him completely. Nerves gave way to the sparks of pleasure he brought out, slowly sliding her panties from her body. Zuko traced the bone in her ankle with his thumb, bending to kiss her shin. She smiled when those kisses traveled up her leg; the warmth from his lips causing her to shiver.

"What are you doing?" she asked when he'd reached her thigh.

"Worshipping you," he replied. His teeth grazed over her hipbone, and Katara felt the fire in her abdomen flare in another dimension.

"Zuko," she breathed his name when she felt the tip of him press against her.

Zuko traced the curve of Katara's cheek with his thumb and pressed a kiss to her lips as he slowly rolled his hips into hers. For a moment, Katara's vision glittered at the edges. Pain and pleasure were not so very different, and though the motion had taken her breath away, she didn't want him to stop.

"Are you okay?" he breathed against her lips?

She answered by pushing her hips into his. The ache had been brief, and her need for him overwhelmed her. Katara clutched a fistful of bedsheets when Zuko began to slide back from her–fingers tightening when he drove himself forward. Their mouths met, teeth gnashing as Zuko rocked and Katara tried to hold the pace. Her hands lifted, pressing to the hollow of his spine and sliding over the muscled planes of his form.

How had she gone so long without knowing this pleasure? She couldn't feel any part of herself that wasn't also a part of him, and she knew she didn't want to. She wanted to belong to him–body and soul, and she lost herself to the passionate rhythm of their bodies. Something was building, begging for release, and Katara's fingernails bit into the skin of his shoulder blade when Zuko shifted her thigh. Katara's hips bucked and she cried out, lost to the sensation of complete and total bliss that had taken over her entire body.

Zuko wasn't far behind. His release was met in the form of a masculine groan. Katara felt the vibration against the side of her throat where his mouth was currently pressed. They were both breathing hard, body's slick with sweat, and trembling gently in the small waves of aftershock. Zuko rolled off her, only to pull her to his chest, securing her lithe frame to his. He pressed his lips to her forehead, his fingers trailing through the strands of her hair.

"Say you're mine," Zuko whispered against her hair.

Katara didn't have to think about it. "I'm yours," she replied. Forever, she hoped.

~xXx~

Zuko didn't sleep that night.

He was afraid that if he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, he might wake to find that everything had been a dream. A splendid dream–but one he preferred to keep as reality.

Zuko had grappled with his lot in life for as long as he could remember. After all he had been through, there was still a part of him that didn't believe he deserved to have this life. He wasn't used to things coming so easily, and Katara wasn't an exception. He'd loved her for a long time; he understood that now more than ever. It was because of that love he feared she might vanish into thin air–after all, the things he loved the most in life had left him.

Zuko bent, pressing his lips to the bare skin of Katara's shoulder blade and rubbed the back of his knuckles down the side of her arm. She told him she was staying. She told him that she wanted him. But Katara was much like a bird in Zuko's mind, and he had no desire to cage such a beautiful creature. He was worried that she would have a hard time adjusting to the way of life in the Fire Nation–especially his life, and the demands that were made of him. And of course, now there was a possibility of finding his mother…

Thoughts of Ursa's whereabouts and living conditions were aiding in his restlessness, churning the chaos in his mind. All this time he thought she'd been dead… Zuko rolled to his back, rubbing his dry eyes as he sighed. The motion caused the sleeping waterbender to stir. Back turned towards him, Katara lifted her head from the pillow as if to take in the room's surroundings. He watched her in silence, and there was a soft smile on her face when she turned to face him.

"Hi," she breathed, leg sliding between his beneath the sheets.

Zuko reached for her hand, tangling his fingers with hers. "Did I wake you?" he asked softly.

"I don't think so," she replied. "What time is it?"

"It's early. We have an hour or so before dawn," he told her.

"How long have you been awake?"

His eyebrow contorted as a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I haven't been able to sleep," he admitted sheepishly.

Katara shot up on her elbow, the sheet falling away from her chest and revealing things Zuko longed to touch again. "You haven't slept? Is it because of me?"

Yes, he answered mentally. "No," he said aloud, "I've just been thinking."

"About what?" she asked.

"A lot of things." Zuko propped himself up on his elbow, releasing her hand from his so he could trace the curve of her shoulder with his fingertips. "I've been thinking about you and how perfect you are for one thing."

A small chuckle escaped Katara. "I'm far from perfect," she told him.

"Well," he said, hand dipping to slide over her ribs, "you're perfect for me."

A warm blush suffused Katara's cheeks, and Zuko hooked a finger under her chin to keep her from trying to hide it from him. "I didn't…" Katara paused, "disappoint you?" A thin line creased her brow as she turned her sapphire gaze on him. Rarely had Zuko seen her look vulnerable, but he could appreciate the fact that it was all for him.

"You were the furthest thing from a disappointment, Katara." Zuko pulled her closer, enjoying the warmth of her skin pressed to his.

"Good, because…" her fingers traced a path over his collarbones, stirring sparks inside him, "I want to try again."

Zuko quirked an eyebrow. Her words were all that was needed to get his blood flowing in all the right places. He tilted her face to meet his lips and the warmth of her spread through his being. Zuko hoped the clock would slow for them, because he wanted to take his time committing every one of her curves to memory. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but for now, he decided that he would just have to show her.

He smiled against her neck, pressing his lips against her jawline. She was his, and for now, that was all he needed.

Ice water, anyone?

I actually wasn't intending on drawing this scene out, so hopefully I didn't offend anyone by doing so. I was just caught up in the moment and really feeling the sizzling chemistry between these two. I guess I felt like I would be doing them an injustice if I had skimmed over the romance. Therefore, I went ahead and changed the whole story rating to an "M"

AnAmberToThePast - I hope you got your Christmas wish and have snow up in MI!

Welcome to the story LittleStar15 - I appreciate the awesome comment you left on Chapter 18! Super cool to have a fan from Brazil!

CeaShax - Thanks for your comment as well. I wasn't quite ready to end our adventure, so I'm still planning to have a few more chapters.

As always, you guys have been fantastic and I love hearing from you.

Merry Christmas, and happy reading!

~Sparrow

(P.S. In case anyone was wondering, the title for this chapter is a Greek word for: "the journey of changing one's mind/heart or having a spiritual conversion" Seemed appropriate.) ;)