Chapter Twenty-Five

The Moon and the Sun


A chorus of crickets sang from their hidden places in the grass. Katara could hear them from where she was standing by the kitchen window. She reached into the bottom of the sink, plunging her arms up to her elbows in the warm, soapy water as she collected the last of the silverware and began scrubbing the tines.

The palace was dark and quiet at this time of night. She didn't need extra light on account of the swollen full moon that shone like liquid silver through the glass and illuminated the stillness of the room. Katara's thoughts had kept her from sleeping once again, and she'd found herself drifting through the halls of the palace like a ghost dressed in a gossamer gown. The guards posted throughout the corridors paid her no mind. That was Zuko's doing, Katara was sure. He'd wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible in the palace, but the truth was the palace would never truly feel like home.

Katara lowered her chin and sighed as she dropped the clean fork in the drying rack. She didn't drain the water right away. Instead, she streamed it out into the air, twisting the liquid whorls into the shape of a bird with long, elegant wings. With a little flourish, she decided to animate the bird and watched as it soared through the kitchen–wings flapping in an invisible wind before she let the bird splash back into the sink of suds.

A light flickered on to her left.

Katara's breath caught as she turned her attention to the side entrance, gaze settling on a man whose body gleamed as though it had been fashioned from the sun. Zuko's pants smiled low on his hips and she could see the deep impression of Adonis lines disappearing into the waistline. The belt of his silken onyx robe hung loose, parting the two halves of fabric to reveal his chiseled chest and abdomen. The contrast of shadow and light did wonders for his frame, and Katara's fingers suddenly ached with longing to touch.

"Was that supposed to be a metaphor of sorts?" Zuko asked her, arms crossing about his chest as he leaned against the door frame.

Her brows furrowed. "What?" He'd come into the palace kitchen, looking like a god of sunlight in her world of endless night, and she'd completely forgotten what it was she had even been doing.

"The bird," Zuko said. "You made a bird with the water."

Katara's frown deepened. "What kind of metaphor would it be?"

"I don't know," Zuko mused, dropping his gaze from hers as he pretended to take interest on a scuff mark on the marbled floor. "Perhaps you feel like I'm caging you in the palace… in this life," he added, looking up to meet her sapphire gaze.

Katara's frown softened as her full lips parted in understanding. She both loved and hated that he could see her so clearly–even at times when she couldn't see herself.

Zuko pushed away from the door frame, soundlessly making his way to her in the near-dark. He paused in front of her, and Katara could feel her pulse leap in her throat. "This is the second night since we've returned to the palace that you've slipped away in the night and wandered through the halls." His tone was even–bordering on the line of concern, but Katara read it as an accusation.

"I was hungry." She shrugged.

"What about last night then? You just felt like touring the Agni Kai chamber, and the old war room?" His single eyebrow lifted, disappearing under the shock of raven hair that had fallen across his forehead.

Katara didn't answer. She pursed her mouth and looked away from his amber gaze and searched the shadows as if they could somehow provide the answer he wanted from her. She didn't even realize he'd been made aware of her midnight wanderings. She should have guessed… Just because those guards stayed silent in her presence didn't mean that they wouldn't go behind her back to inform their Fire Lord of her adventures. They were loyal to him first, after all.

"It's not where you go," Zuko attempted to clarify, "it's that you go in the middle of the night alone… It makes me feel like I've done something wrong. Are you unhappy with me Katara?"

Katara reached for his hands, folding hers in the warmth of his palms. "You've done nothing to make me unhappy," she told him with earnest. "I've never known happiness the way I know it with you, Zuko. You are everything to me." She bit her bottom lip. "It's just taking some time to get used to all this," she said. "I'm monitored most everywhere I go–the proof is standing right in front of me." She let go of his hands to lightly tap him on the chest. "I suppose someone tattled."

"They were worried about you," Zuko said, excusing his guards' behaviors. "As am I."

Katara filled her lungs with a gulp of air and tipped her forehead to rest against Zuko's sternum. Her hands settled on his waist, soaking in the warmth of his skin. "There's nothing to worry about, Zuko."

"Then talk to me Katara." His palms moved to roll over the rounds of her shoulders, forcing her to straighten. "You've been… different since we returned from Hira'a."

Katara knew that was a reasonable assessment. After Zuko had written his mother a letter and sent General Iroh to deliver the message, Katara and Zuko had packed their things and made their way to the stables to ready the horses for the return journey. Only, their plans had taken a detour when General Iroh returned to the Inn with Ursa at his side.

As it turned out–reading Zuko's letter had broken the spell over her mind and all the memories of her past life had come rushing back to her at full force. She remembered everything. When Iroh brought her to the stables, Ursa had taken one look at her son and burst into a fit of tears and a mantra of apologies.

"Oh Zuko," she'd said, "I am so incredibly sorry for all that you have suffered and endured without me. How can you ever forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," came his easy reply.

Katara had given them space after that, allowing them to walk the streets of Hira'a alone. It wouldn't make up for the time he'd lost with her, but it was at least a beginning of sorts. He had a chance to repair the damage, and bridge the gap of their relationship. Ursa accepted the invitation to visit Zuko and Katara at the palace, but wanted the opportunity to return to her home and explain to her family all that had happened. It would be a long road to mending all that was broken, but Katara was happy for him. It wouldn't be the same, but at least he would have some semblance of his family back.

The truth was this: watching the way Ursa had embraced her son after all those years had truly wrenched Katara's heartstrings. Ursa was the embodiment of grace and love, and Katara wondered how she would ever live up to such magnanimous heights. She wanted this life with Zuko more than anything. But she had big shoes to fill…

"I don't," Katara started, wetting her lower lip and began again, "I don't think I know how to do this."

"Do what?" Zuko asked, softening his tone.

It had only been two days since they'd returned to the palace, but Zuko had made the official announcement to his council that he and Katara were courting. Word of their courtship spread like proverbial wildfire through the entire nation in what seemed like a matter of hours. Their courtship announcement was as good as an engagement title, and people were beginning to pay much more attention to the blue-eyed waterbender than ever before. The cheeky giggles, glances, and whispers didn't bother Katara so much… It was the fact that Katara didn't know the first thing about being a queen that kept her up at night and had her wandering through the halls and rooms to study more of the Nation's history. She'd been in the library earlier that night, but had gotten hungry (that part wasn't a lie) before Zuko had found her in the kitchen.

"I don't know how to be a… queen," she tested the word out loud and nearly cringed at the way it tasted on her tongue. "I wasn't raised in the royal palace. I didn't have my whole life to practice etiquette and posture–and why the heck are there so many forks at dinner?" Her eyebrows furrowed rather adorably above her eyes and Zuko couldn't stop the smile from crawling across his face or the small laugh that escaped his throat.

He bent, pressing his lips to the center of her forehead. "There are so many forks at dinner because some stuffy, pretentious bureaucrat deemed it necessary in order to display ones status and make others feel inferior," he answered.

"Well," Katara said, "it's really annoying."

"It is," he agreed. Zuko traced the curve of her bare arms with the palm of his hands, committing those supple bends and curves to memory. "But why are you worried about forks or what anyone else thinks about etiquette and posture when you put an end to the war… that's real, Katara. The way you handle pressure and make wise decisions that better the nation–those are the things that count. That's what will make you a good queen."

"I want to be like your mom… The way she handles everything… it's unreal."

"She's had a lot of practice," Zuko allotted. "It will come for you in time, but it's what's inside that really matters, Katara." Zuko traced her small sternum with his index and middle finger until they paused above her heart. "I've seen you in action. I know what you're made of, and soon everyone else will see it too."

"I just don't want to screw this up."

"Let me let you in on a little secret," Zuko lowered his face next to hers; his lips resting along the shell of her ear, "everyone screws up, Katara. It's called being human."

Katara gave a small chuckle, pulling back just enough so that she could look up at his face. With his arms around her, Katara realized that Zuko would never let her truly fail. She wanted to impress him with how well she could adapt, but deep down Katara knew that she didn't need to impress him… he was already her biggest supporter. "Thank you," she told him simply, hoping he understood all her words encompassed.

"If there's something you want, Katara, all you have to do is ask. You don't have to sneak out in the middle of the night to try and avoid being seen," he told her. "You've got absolutely nothing to be ashamed of."

"Okay." Katara pressed her lips together, sucking in a deep breath through her nose.

Zuko lifted her chin with his fingertips, his gaze lowering to the soft, lush curve of her mouth. "What am I going to do with you?" A grin flirted with his lips.

It was such a simple statement, but the implications behind it had more to do with where his gaze was focused. Katara pressed the palms of her hands to his marbled chest, sliding her hands beneath the halves of his silken robe to explore the hard planes of his back. Sometimes she still couldn't believe that this man was all hers. His body was a work of art; scars marred his flesh to mark the trials he'd survived. They were all beautiful to her. "Well," Katara breathed, pushing up on her toes so she could whisper in his ear, "I think I have a couple ideas…"

His brow flickered in amusement. "Do you now?"

Katara's fingertips traced the straight bones of his spine, circled his hips and slipped below the waistband of his pants. "Surely you don't need a hint," she teased.

His lips parted, eyes rolling back in pleasure as her hand circled his more sensitive parts. His eyes roamed her body, worshiping the view of her supple skin beneath the diaphanous material of her nightgown. "You should be more careful roaming the palace without your robe," he breathed the words against her mouth. His hand, rough with calluses, rolled over her warm shoulder and teased the strap of her gown from its perch. "You make it incredibly difficult for me to behave myself."

"Maybe I don't want you to behave."

Katara's words went through him like the lure of wine.

He kissed her, tongue parting the lips he couldn't seem to get enough of. Zuko still wasn't sure how he'd managed to get everything he wanted in life–though the journey had not been easy, it was becoming clear that every trial and tribulation he'd faced was well worth the heartache. He vowed to spend the rest of his days thanking his lucky stars, or whatever great celestial reckoning that had been responsible for placing Katara in his arms.

Zuko's hands anchored Katara's waist as he lifted her up and placed her on the counter. A small murmur of surprise left her lungs, but he cut off the sound with another kiss. His hand framed her face as he pulled back, gazing into the sapphire blue of her eyes. "You are my world, Katara," he told her, eyes dancing back and forth between hers.

Katara cupped the back of his wrist with her palm, smiling as she leaned forward to press a kiss to the center of his forehead. "And you are mine."

~xXx~

Katara coated her hand in water from the wooden bowl before facing the little boy that was sitting on the leather-cot in front of her. He was cradling his arm; large, dark eyes brimming with a fresh wave of tears. "This might sting a little," Katara told him, "but it'll feel so much better after that."

The little boy nodded and closed his eyes to brace himself against the pain. Katara gently folded her palm over his arm where the burn on his bicep was blistered and still hot to the touch. The boy winced. His features softened after a moment, and he opened his eyes.

"Better?" Katara asked him with a soft smile lining her lips.

"It doesn't feel like it's burning anymore," the boy said, glancing down at his arm. The liquid seemed to vibrate beneath Katara's palm, cooling his skin as the water worked to heal the damage. "It's like magic."

"Something like that." Katara lifted her hand to inspect her work, and used a soft cloth to pat the boy's arm dry. The blister was gone but there would be a scar there when the wound fully healed. He'd told her that he and his sister were practicing the Dance of the Dragon when he messed up one of the steps (several times in a row) and it made his sister mad. She sent a burst of fire his way and he'd caught it directly in the arm. "Just promise me you'll be more careful. I don't want you to get hurt again."

"Well it wasn't my fault," the boy said in defense. "My sister is the one with a temper, not me!"

Katara pressed her lips into a thin line. She and Sokka had gotten into plenty of tiffs growing up–sibling rivalry was normal, but not when an attack seemed intentional. Fire was an unforgiving element, destructive in its nature. Katara couldn't help but picturing a young version of Azula and Zuko sitting before her.

As if reading her mind, the elderly healer spoke up, "Children of the Fire Nation go through these little spats all the time. Consider it a rite of passage."

Katara placed her hands on her lap and smiled at the boy. "Okay Tai, you're all set."

"Thank you Lady Katara!" The boy hopped off the cot and bowed respectfully before dashing out into the hall. Katara waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before facing the healer.

"At that age, it is normal," the healer insisted, still reading the concern in Katara's eyes.

"It seems dangerous," Katara said. "They could really get hurt abusing their bending like that."

"Wasn't your bending affected by your emotions at that age?"

"Well yes," Katara answered, "but I've always had respect for the element and learned how to control it. If you know you're angry, you should walk away before you hurt someone."

The healer smiled, placing the charts he'd been reading down on his desk. "Fire and water are the polar opposites in nature, what stimulates and influences one doesn't necessarily adhere to the rules for the other. You'll see, Lady Katara. In the Fire Nation, respect for the element is taught before bending is practiced. Fire runs hot. Forgive me for saying, but our skin was made to take the heat."

Katara quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. She had her opinions about that too, but chose to keep them to herself. She glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that it was almost time for lunch.

"Are you sure that this is what you want?" the healer asked her.

A frown creased Katara's forehead as she gazed into eyes that were the color of iced-tea. "What do you mean?"

"This." The healer opened his arms and swept the entirety of the room in a waving gesture. "You're training to be the Lady of the Fire Nation, Katara. You'll soon be swept up in a sea of diplomacy. Your responsibilities to the Nation and the Fire Lord may not leave you with much free time… I should think taking on hospital duties would overwhelm you."

The healers tone was filled with concern, as it was evident he was trying not to offend the waterbender. Katara was learning a great deal about Fire Nation medicine and ways of healing from the old man, and he'd never been anything but kind. She smiled at him now, and reached up to pin a couple of stray hairs back into her chignon. "I feel the most useful when I'm helping people," Katara explained. "I'm good at this."

"I never doubted that," the healer said. He recognized that she was a Master of her trades. "I just worry about the changes being too much for you… You've gone through a lot in your young life. I daresay your future won't be a cake walk."

"It's been worth it," Katara told him. "The palace may never feel like home, but my true home is a place for my heart to reside. I have that with Zuko, and he's making the transition as easy as it can be." Katara gave a small shrug.

"Yes, well," the healer paused, bending to straighten the stack of papers on his desk, "we're lucky to have you, Lady Katara. I hope you know that."

"Thank you." She dropped her gaze to hide her blush, but the healer caught her smile.

He smiled fondly at the waterbender. He'd seen many years of oppression under Lord Ozai's reign, and though he was a traditional man himself, he realized that the world they were living in needed people like Lord Zuko and Katara to forge a path for peace. She was bearing the weight of change with grace beyond her years, and he couldn't help but admire her bravery. Such a strange and beautiful thing, he thought, the balance between the elements and the people that were wielding them.

"Lady Katara," the healer spoke before she could leave the room for lunch.

"Yes?"

"The red of your gown is a lovely compliment to the sapphire of your eyes," he told her in cryptic custom as he bowed to her.

Katara smiled.


Well this chapter was way overdue. I never abandon my projects, but navigating the currents of life keeps me from being able to solely focus on this. It was nice to log on and see I gained some new followers/reviewers. Most of you guys have been absolutely great and inspiring, and a small few have been... a little less so, haha. I'm gonna' keep doing what I do though.

Shouting out to: Odeveca, Lientje16, and ElinorSinclair for the compliments. You guys rock!

As always, stay tuned and happy reading!

~Sparrow