Quick updates ftw! Now see what quarantine is doing to me. I'm getting the idea of not one but two fluffy Zutara one shots. Anyone interested in reading them?

Not much to say here but you will get some more answers. Also, that little story in the end is my creation. XD

I know you guys wanted more of Jet, you will see him in the next chapter.


Chapter 20

Zuko lay on his bed, trying to think of anything but Jet and the way his eyes had roved over Katara. The man had almost been drooling over her. Objectively speaking, Zuko could understand Jet's reaction. Motherhood had filled Katara's body, giving her curves. The red blouse she had on had played against her dark skin fabulously. Over the month, she had lost the emaciated look she had in North Pole and had gained a healthy glow on her face. Those impossibly blue eyes had the power to reel one in, hook, line, and sinker. As a man, he understood that Jet saw a very sexy woman.

But Zuko was not willing to consider objectively, not when it came to Katara. This was his friend who had just now begun to trust him. This was the person who had been badly hurt while he wasn't looking. She was the woman he was sworn to protect. This was his wife, for Agni's sake! How could Jet look at another man's wife like that? His wife! With a growl, Zuko punched his pillow, imagining Jet's face in its place.

A part of Zuko was sending out a warning. Jet's arrival couldn't have come at a worse time. The fury that had been building within him all day, had only exacerbated with Jet's lecherous attitude. The fact that he was unable to hurt Aang, make him feel the pain he had put Katara through, was burning him up from within. For Jet's sake, Zuko hoped that he would not bother them any further. He had a sneaking suspicion that if Jet kept poking, all the wrath that lay coiled within Zuko would erupt and Jet would be swept away in the pyroclastic blast.

Not that he didn't deserve it. The mere thought that he had kissed Katara, even if it had been years ago, was enough to make Zuko want to shake him. But if he looked at her that way once more, then all bets were off. He would poke a pair of flaming fingers through Jet's eyes. Katara was not a display item for him to ogle at. Nor was she a thing to be used and abused. She was meant to be respected and treasured. Jet viewed her as a commodity and Aang had failed her. But now…

"Zuko."

With a jerk he shot up, in complete darkness. When had the torches gone out? How had he not noticed them flicker out? And who had called him?

"Who's there?"

No answer. He called forth his element, trying to light a flame, but nothing. There was no fire. Confusion and panic struggled in his mind. Blindly groping around a little, Zuko realized he was still in his own bed. Gaining some bearing, he leaned over to the side to grab his dual dao swords from the side table, only to have his hands pass right through it.

"What's happening? What's going on? Am I dreaming?"

Bizarre, he did not remember falling asleep. From the periphery of his vision, he caught a flicker of green light. He jerked his head and if he were to hazard a guess, he would say that the light was coming from the balcony. What was happening? Was he hallucinating? Was this some kind of an assassination attempt?

As he watched, aghast, the green light tore through the darkness and he spotted the silhouette of someone standing there. The fluorescent green light grew and grew, banishing the darkness. Zuko looked around frantically, trying to understand what had happened. He was relieved to learn that his initial judgement that he was still in his own room was right. Yet, there was something very wrong. He could not put his fingers on what, though. Then, his eyes fell on something that made him scream and leap off the bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, seeing but not believing. On the bed was his own body, unmoving.

"What the heck?" He screamed, now truly scared. "What's happening?"

"Zuko," the voice called again, now closer than ever.

He whirled around to find someone he had not expected. Fear, anger, relief and confusion battled within him as his mind tried to comprehend what was happening, "Aang? What? What's happening? Am I… Am I dead?"

Aang's lips twitched, "No. You're in the spirit world."

He looked at his body on the bed and then to his own hand and realized that they had a greenish hue. "You got me here?"

"I did. We have to talk."

With those words, fear and confusion retreated. A smidgen of relief remained but then, anger took over. Without thinking about his actions, Zuko punched Aang. His fist, however, went right through the monk who was looking at him with a sad yet amused smile.

"Yeah, that won't work," Aang said. "All you can do here is talk."

Zuko scoffed, "Talk? What is there to talk about?"

"Zuko, I… I need you to…"

He raised a finger and shook his head, "No. No Aang. Just shut up. You're lucky I don't have my bending here otherwise I'd have burned you. Turned you into a charred crisp."

Aang didn't say anything, just lowered his eyes. Zuko crossed his arms and asked through gritted teeth, "Tell me something Aang, have you seen what has happened since you died? Please tell me the you have seen everything."

"Yes. I have," he replied meekly.

Zuko gave a poisonous smile, "So you must have seen how she ran up to me the moment you died? How she's been in my bed all this time, right?"

Aang had tears in his eyes as he said, "Zuko… I…"

"Shut up!" Zuko barked. "Why did you come to me, Aang? Why not her? Don't you think you owe her a fucking apology? That's the least you can do. But you're too much of a fucking coward to do that. Why are you here? Why me?"

Aang closed his eyes and sighed, "You're right. It was easier to come to you than to face her."

"You mean easier to face me when I don't have my bending, can't grab my swords or punch you, for that matter?"

Aang remained silent.

Zuko shook his head, "Even in death you can't do what you should."

"Zuko… could you… could you tell her I'm sorry?"

"No. No way. No fucking way," Zuko shook his head, pacing angrily, his voice rising with every word. "She was your wife! You should have loved, cherished, and respected her. She was your responsibility. It was your job to protect her. You vowed to be next to her through thick and thin! What do you think that means, Aang?"

The monk shook his head, his face contorted with pain.

"It means you love her for who she is. Her strengths and her failings included. Not set some impossible fucking standard for her and then punish her when she can't meet it. You were supposed to treat her like she was the most precious thing in your life. Instead, you went out of her way to damage her. Tell me something, Aang, what would have happened if Sokka couldn't make it to me in time? Or if I wasn't in Fire Nation when he came? Or if Uncle didn't find that archaic law of Meiyo no Kaba? What then?"

The Air Nomad's spirit stood there, head bowed, crying.

"She would have died, that's what! Bumi and Kya would have become orphans. Because of you! You professed to love her. Is this what love is? She can't bear to be touched by her own brother and that's your own fault. Sokka and Katara had the most beautiful relationship and you have taken that from her. And you want me to be your fucking messenger? Not happening. Grow a damn spine and apologize yourself."

Aang sat down on the bed at the foot of Zuko's body and wept. "I let him in. I made a huge mistake by letting him in."

"Mayung?"

Aang nodded. "I'm not surprised you know about him. You always were thorough with everything you did. I wish I knew then what I know now. I shouldn't have spoken to him, ever."

"How the fuck did you even find him? There were hundreds of Avatars that you could have spoken to. How did you land up with the biggest dick of them all?"

"I just asked if anyone knew what to do when your spouse cheats on you," Aang sobbed. "I was so convinced she was cheating on me. I didn't know what to do, who to talk to, so I asked the Avatars. And Mayung stepped forth. I wish Roku had warned me once about how poisonous his words could be or what the outcome of talking to him would be."

"For once take some fucking responsibility, man!" Zuko screamed. If he had his bending, his entire body would have been flaming at that moment. "You're dead! High time you took some responsibility for your own actions. Roku didn't warn you about Mayung? Why should he? Mayung didn't make you hurt her. Mayung didn't make you burn her. Rape her. That was YOU! That. Was. All. You."

Aang held his head in his hands and said, "I regret everything so much, Zuko. So much."

Zuko narrowed his eyes and asked, "Did the spirits punish you?"

"They did," Aang sighed. "They cut me off from Avatar State. Then, one by one, all my bending was taken away. I saw the boulder, but I couldn't bend it away."

Zuko gaped, "What? I didn't know that."

"No one did," Aang said in a low voice. "It happened seven days before my death. I didn't tell anyone. I knew I was going to die, the spirits told me."

His anger ebbed a little and Zuko took a place next to Aang, "You had seven days, why didn't you try to make at least some amends?"

"I couldn't," Aang said. "Once the spirits gave me the judgement, I knew I was done for. That happened with Mayung too."

"The least you could do is say 'I'm sorry Katara.'"

"How does one beg for forgiveness after what I did, Zuko?" Aang asked.

"Forgiveness? That's where you're wrong," At that moment, Zuko felt like he was once again Aang's teacher. "When you're asking for forgiveness, you are seeking to absolve yourself. But that's not what this is about. This isn't about you. You were judged by the spirits and found wanting. You were poised to receive your punishment. Your fate was sealed. This is about Katara. If she knew that you understood where you went wrong and regretted what you did, it would have made her healing easy. You owe her that."

"Now you're dealing with the aftermath of my actions. Again," Aang said, looking at him. "I left Ozai alive and your life became difficult. Now, once again, you're cleaning up my messes."

"Meet her, Aang. Tell her you're sorry."

Aang shook his head. "No Zuko. I don't want to show my face to her. She's started healing. If she stays with you, she will get better. You will respect, cherish, protect, and love her like I never could. I don't want to take that away from her. Seeing me won't help her."

Zuko took a deep breath and shook his head, "Why, Aang? Why didn't you believe her? Why couldn't you just ask me? Why didn't you come to me and just… talk?"

Aang closed his eyes, "All my excuses, all the reasons… they sound so hollow now."

"How did the Spirits punish you?"

"My punishment is still on," Aang replied with a wan smile. "The Avatar spirit, Raava, has already chosen the next Avatar. My spirit will spend a very long time in torment. I don't want to detail it. Given who you are, you probably will never see it, anyway. Just know, I'm paying for my sins. Heavily."

"How are you here, then?"

"This? This is because of the good I did do in my life. This is the reward for that. Do you remember when you married her in North Pole, the water glowed blue for a moment?"

"Yes?"

"That was me," Aang said with a smile. "I was giving my blessings to the two of you."

Zuko did not know what to say.

"Once you married her, I was finally relived," Aang said, "Now, she could live her life in the peace she deserves. You will drive my memories away from her mind, I know."

The green light surrounding them winked suddenly, making Aang sigh. "It's time. I have to go. You won't remember this conversation, unless you need to. "

"But… you wanted me to pass on your message to Katara. How could I have done that if I didn't even remember the conversation?"

"If you had agreed, you would have remembered the relevant bits. You will still have some residual memories, but nothing significant. Before I go, let me tell you something you will remember, though. Something that will, perhaps, bring some peace to you. Ozai burns in a place worse than me."

Inadvertently, Zuko's lips drew to a smile. The green light and Aang dissipated in a mist.


Katara was on her bed, reading. It had been ages since she had done something so simple as sit and read. Seeing Jet earlier in the day had been rather unpleasant. For one moment, she had been happy. Happy to realize that he had been alive and unharmed. That joy, however, had been short lived. Nothing had changed in Jet. He was still that slimy, lecherous, smooth-talking idiot that he had always been.

What she had not expected was Zuko's reaction to him. He looked like he was about ready to spontaneously combust, or burn Jet on his feet, depending on which was more convenient. He had even thrown caution to wind and dropped his hood, showing his face. Katara had been rather taken aback to find him do that and to see the anger on his face.

The rage from earlier, she could understand, but for Jet to elicit that kind of reaction, the two had to have some interesting history. She was curious but Zuko had clamped shut, not saying anything more than absolutely necessary. She had not missed the silent challenge that seemed to have passed between the two men before they left the shack, (even though she had been almost entirely focused on the hand that had lay against the bare skin of her waist and the tingly, giddy sensation that brought with it), but why were they engaging in, what Suki referred to as the "measure my weapon" contest? What was going on?

As though summoned by her thoughts, Zuko appeared at her door, with a strange look on his face.

"Zuko? Aren't you asleep yet?"

He walked over to her bed, where she was reading, and perched himself on one side, "I… I'm… I have to tell you something important."

Katara put her book aside and looked at him. He was dressed in a sleeveless black shirt, a golden belt, and a black pant. He had tied his hair at the base of his neck and was clutching on to his dual dao swords like his life depended on it. "I'm listening."

"I… I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you."

"What?"

"It's…It's very important… but I can't, for the life of me, remember what it is."

Now that she saw it, he looked rather pale. Which was saying something because he was so pale to begin with. Maybe that's why she had not spotted his ashen pallor earlier. Feeling a prickle of concern for him, she scooted closer to him and lay a hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"I don't know."

"Okay…. Ummm…. Why don't you tell me what you do know?"

"Ozai is burning."

"What?" Katara stared at him, not knowing what to say or do. She slid off the bed and tried to take the swords from his grasp. His fingers were cold! What was going on with him? "Zuko, let these go."

"Uh… But I can finally hold them, now that my hands are not green," he answered as though that sentence made perfect sense.

Oh boy. "Zuko, are you… drunk? Did you… smoke something?"

He made a face, "No Katara. I'm not high. But this is… weird."

"No arguments there," she said. "You know what? Wait here."

Saying so, she quickly ducked into the adjoining bathroom to change out of her nightgown into a pair of pants and a tunic and stepped out. Zuko had not moved from where she'd left him, still clutching his swords in a death grip. Katara felt a prickle of fear. In all the years that she had known him for, she had never seen him this out of sorts. Mercurial as his temper was, he had been a calming influence over their entire group. Seeing him like this was troubling to say the least. Her mind made up, she walked up to him and held out her hand.

"Come with me," He looked at her questioningly but took her hand. "You can leave the swords behind. We are not going anywhere dangerous, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, he put the swords down reverently and allowed her to pull him up. "Where are we going at this hour?"

Oh good, so he's not completely checked out. That's good. "Just to the roof."

"Roof?" He gave her a confused look. "Why the roof?"

"Oh, Suki and I used to sit there for hours sometimes."

Katara brought him up to the window and climbed on the ledge. She jumped on the parapet and motioned for him to follow. He looked at her incredulously but followed, nevertheless. With her back flat against the wall, she slithered along the parapet, till she reached a pipe. As she climbed up the pipe, she heard him mutter something before climbing with her. Upon reaching the tiled roof, she grabbed the edge, tried to pull herself up and failed.

"Oh for…" he muttered before he put a hand on the small of her back (damn those tingles!) and pushed her. With his boost, she hoisted herself up. She slithered to the side a bit and held out a hand for him, but he pulled himself up without needing her aid. Katara led him a little further, sat down and patted the place next to her. Even in the darkness she could feel the roll of his eyes, but he complied.

"I remember the climb being much easier than it was," Katara said, surprised to find herself a little out of breath.

"Maybe because you're not fourteen anymore?" Zuko supplied helpfully.

"You're older than me and you haven't even broken a sweat," she complained.

"I'm trained. And I keep up with my training."

In response, she stuck her tongue out at him.

Ignoring her act, he asked, "What was the big idea bringing me here?"

"I wanted to get you out whatever funk you were in. Looks like it worked, didn't it?"

He gave a small chortle, "Definitely looks like it. You always had the weirdest solutions to problems."

"Excuse me?" she said indignantly.

"What? How do you get Toph to stop scamming? Pull an even bigger scam with her. How to get rid of The Duke's crush on Toph? Make him wash her clothes."

"What? It worked, didn't it? Toph used to be dirty like a pig! Washing her clothes did make him see that."

"I didn't say your solutions are ineffectual. I just said they are weird."

"At least it's better than your I-glare-at-my-problems-till-they-burn-away approach."

"I do not glare."

Katara gave a fake laugh and raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Okay… maybe I glare a bit."

"You want to try and explain again what happened to you earlier?"

He sighed, leaned back on his palms and stretched his legs in front of him. "I honestly can't explain. I mean one moment I was in my bed, thinking about… err… something. Next moment, I'm glad that my hands are not green anymore and I can hold my swords. And I'm happy that Ozai is burning."

Katara cocked her head to the side, "Is this a euphemism of some sort? Because I'm really not getting the meaning here if it is. What does Ozai have to do with green hands or swords? How are any of those things even remotely related?"

"No. I'm not implying anything. It's bizarre, I know but yes, this is what I was thinking."

"Okay, I think you fell asleep without realizing and had a really weird dream."

"Maybe. But he said I must be his messenger," Zuko said and then went, huh?

"Who said? What message?"

"I… don't know. Agni! My brain is scrambled."

"And talking didn't help?"

He looked at her, his scar prominent in the moonlight. "You heard everything I had to say. Did any of it make any sense?"

"No," Katara admitted. "If I weren't worried for you, I would laugh."

"Thanks, Katara," he said in a low voice. "Both for bringing me here and for being worried."

"It's what I do," Katara said with a smile. "I worry."

He raised a hand and moved a stray lock of hair from her face. The touch set butterflies fluttering in her stomach, making her sigh softly. "You don't flinch when I touch you," he whispered.

"I don't."

"Why?" His voice was so soft that had Katara not been hyper-focused on him, she would have missed it.

"I don't know."

He had a soft expression as his hand traced her face, down her neck and settled at the base of her throat where his betrothal necklace lay, leaving behind a series of small explosions on her skin. "Really?" he whispered.

Was it her imagination or was he leaning closer? Alas, she would never know because at that moment, notes of a song floated over to them. Below them, somewhere in the city, a bard sang, unaware that his song had interrupted their tender moment. He dropped his hand and looked away; his shoulders taut. Katara blinked, trying not to feel disappointed. The two of them sat in silence, the wind billowing their hair as snatches of a magnificent song reached them.

"That's so beautiful," Katara said. "What song is this, do you know?"

Zuko's shuffled in the way he did when he was mildly embarrassed, "Inamorata."

"Inamorata? What does that mean?"

He mumbled something.

"What?"

"The female lover."

"Oh… um is it like bawdy or something?"

He shook his head, "Not at all. It's actually a very beautiful song. It speaks of a sculptor that fell in love with his own creation. He poured all his heart and soul in his creation, his inamorata, knowing full well that his love would not be reciprocated. Then, once his masterpiece was created, he decided to hide it from the eyes of the world for he could not bear to see others look at her and see a mere sculpture. A thing. When she was so much more. But in hiding her away, the sculptor had also distanced her away from himself. He was in so much pain that Agni, in his benevolence, decided to bring the sculpture to life, and fill her heart with his love. Inamorata then gets out of the hiding place and goes to the sculptor. But unable to take the separation, the sculptor had taken his life. The song ends with inamorata pleading Agni to make her a sculpture again for a heart of stone is incapable of love."

"Zuko! That's beautiful! Why were you embarrassed about it?"

"Because, as a child, I used to find the song stupid. How could one expect a sculpture to come alive? That was just silly."

Katara chuckled, scooting slightly closer to him. "That sounds like something Bumi would say."

At the mention of Bumi, he grinned, "Did he tell you what he's planning to call me?"

"He asked me about it and nixed all my suggestions. I'm guessing he came up with something?"

"Indeed. He's calling me Fatherlord."

Katara sniggered. The two slipped into companionable silence, listening as the bard's clear voice went through a series of complex notes. The cool air, the silvery light of the moon, the stars winking overhead, and the song cast a spell. Katara realized that she was at peace. Without a thought, as though it was the most natural thing to do, Katara leaned over and lay her head on his shoulder. For the briefest moment she felt him stiffen. She was just beginning to wonder but then his hand found hers and his fingers threaded through hers. As the two sat there, listening, Katara realized that Zuko was humming along. If it were in her power, she would have lived her entire life in that one moment.