~Scars are souvenirs you never lose~
Dad and Gran-Gran had always warned Katara about hypothermia. The freezing bite, followed by numbness, ending with warmth. She'd always been careful to stay inside during blizzards, to not step out on the thin ice, to practice waterbending within safe distance of a fire.
She'd thrown all of those rules out the window tonight. Her bending was much stronger than when she'd been a child, but it couldn't keep her dry while she used her hands and feet to haul herself through a tunnel of rushing water.
Once she'd flopped onto the soft grass of the Spirit Oasis, she'd bent that water from her clothes, hadn't she? She might be stubborn, but she wasn't stupid. Then again, she'd dipped her vial into the spirit pool before offering a prayer to Yue. Maybe this was the spirits' retribution.
Whatever the reason, she was warm. That couldn't be a good sign.
"Katara, please. Wake up."
She was rocking back and forth, as if she lay on the deck of a ship. Hypothermia-induced hallucinations? Gran-Gran had never told her about that.
"I never got to tell you, when we were dancing…" the hallucination murmured. "What am I saying? You almost froze to death. And here I am worrying about my feelings."
The rocking slowed. She felt more than just warmth now; heat coursed through her skin where sturdy arms hugged her.
Wait. Arms?
She blinked her eyes open, and a face fuzzed into focus.
"Z...Zuko?" she slurred. A nice hallucination then. She smiled and touched his face, half expecting her hand to pass through it.
It didn't. Her bare hand touched scarred skin.
It took her a moment to process what that meant.
"You're here," she realized, trying to sit up. She didn't make it very far before she was slouching back against him. "You're actually here, and—how did you get here?"
"The same way you did. Which was really stupid, by the way." His heat spiked with the roughness in his voice. Was he—mad at her? She'd done all this for him!
"I'm stupid?" Unfortunately, it was hard to be angry back when she could barely move. She sunk deeper into his lap, and his hand gently cradled the back of her head.
Even if he was upset, he would never leave her to suffer alone.
"I didn't say that," he grumbled. "I was stupid for telling you about the tunnels in the first place. I should've known…"
He sighed and shook his head. She wished he wouldn't do that. Trying to follow the movement with her eyes left her dizzy again.
"Known what?" she asked slowly. Maybe it should've been obvious, but her fuzzy thoughts could barely keep up with him.
When his gold eyes rested on her, though, she felt a little more lucid.
"I should've known you were too stubborn to let it go."
The words might have offended her if his tone weren't so soft. Coming from Zuko, the Stubbornness Lord himself, she was pretty sure it was a compliment.
"I told you." She smiled, even though her lips still felt frozen enough to crack. "I was going to make sure you got your choice."
She held up her fist, and light spilled out between her fingers. Slowly, she managed to uncurl them to reveal the glowing vial.
Zuko stared at the spirit water, and his lips drew to a thin line. He didn't look excited, or even surprised. Had she made a mistake? She'd been so sure he'd be grateful to have this chance… but he had told her not to bother with the water. Was he worried that she'd jeopardized his relations with the Northern Tribe?
"You don't have to take it," she said quickly. "I don't have to heal you. I just—"
"Katara." He held her closer, if that was possible. His warmth coursed through her, thawing the rest of the ice in her veins. "I… I would be honored if you wanted to heal me."
"I… really?"
"Yeah. Well—sort of. I told you about the problems with… you know." He gestured to the left half of his face. "Is there a way you could help fix my hearing and sight without erasing the whole scar? Just so no one will suspect anything."
She blinked. Why hadn't she thought of that?
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I've never tried something that specific. To be honest, I don't even know if I can heal your scar at all."
She remembered Yugoda's counsel. "Scars like the Fire Lord's often aren't merely physical wounds—spiritual damage may be involved as well." It would be embarrassing to have come all this way, risked so much, only to fail at actually untangling that spiritual damage. After all, even with the spirit water, Aang's lightning wound had scarred.
"Oh." Zuko looked away. "Don't worry about it. It's not a big deal."
"No—I didn't mean I wouldn't try!" This time, she actually managed to sit up. She didn't scoot out of Zuko's lap, though. She probably still needed his warmth. "I just wanted you to know. If only I could practice first…"
Unless…
"What?" he asked.
"Feel free to say no, but—what if I practiced on your lightning scar?" She bit her lip.
Before, he'd told her he'd think about it, but he hadn't yet confirmed if he wanted it healed. It would be the ideal way to practice, since both scars must have a tangled spiritual element to them. Of course, healing the complex anatomy of the eye and ear might still be difficult, but it seemed like the main problems were with the gnarled tissue surrounding them. His left eye itself was just as bright as his right.
"If that will help," he said after a long pause.
Before she could ask if he was sure, he was lifting her and placing her on the soft grass. Then he pulled his shirt over his head.
His sunburst scar looked just as she remembered it. She'd traced each point with cool water, day after day, until he'd finally stabilized. No more tossing in his sleep, threatening to shed the careful gauze she'd wrapped around his chest.
She couldn't help touching it. Her fingers splayed, each outlined by a jagged point. Like her hand belonged there, cold against his warmth.
"Just to clarify," she began quietly, "I'm only attempting to reduce the stiffness of the scar tissue. Not erase it, since that would be too obvious. Is that right?"
"Right." He nodded eagerly this time. Maybe it had just taken him a moment to get over his nervousness. And of course he'd be nervous. She was about to go in and yank around on yank around on chi pathways. Something deeply personal.
"I should probably warn you. Yugoda said… you might need to let me feel your pain. So, um, you might feel some phantom pain, too."
She fiddled with the cork on her vial, still nervous to open it. This would test the limits of her healing abilities. Even with the extra training she'd received this week, she might not be up to the task.
"It won't be anything I haven't felt before." He gave a little smile. His idea of a joke, then. "I trust you, Katara. And if it hurts you at all, you can stop. No matter how close you think you are. You've already done more than enough for me."
That wasn't true. She hadn't done more than enough—but maybe she had done just enough.
But when had she ever been satisfied with just enough?
"Don't worry. You know I'm not one to back down from a challenge." She smiled back.
Then she popped the cork from her vial and drew the glowing water to her palm. It sent a familiar tingle down her skin.
Good luck, Yue's voice seemed to sigh into her mind. So at least "getting struck down by the spirits" could be crossed off her list of worries.
With that last blessing, Katara brought her hands to Zuko's scar. She felt through the stiff surface until she reached something alive. And then—
Pain.
No. "Pain" wasn't descriptive enough. Agony. Searing agony, with the regret of words unspoken.
That was true for both of them. Surprise flared up, flowing through their mingled chi like a whisper. But they couldn't speak those words the way they were now. They couldn't speak at all.
Pain swept away the surprise, and they were there again. The birth of the souvenir he carried.
Lightning flashed, threatening to send her curling back in on herself.
Pain regret anger fear FEAR NO NOT HER please please help can't ow HURT PAIN no no NO—
Their chi wavered like a plucked string, one she couldn't untangle. She. Not they. She couldn't lose herself in his feelings, in his memories, though they crashed over her like a storm.
Shame hurt not strong enough can't save her can't give up please…
The emotions were a whimper that echoed again and again. Like the otter penguin Katara once saved from a stray harpoon. The wound wouldn't heal until she'd pulled the whole weapon out.
But she couldn't get deep enough in his chi. Every time she tried to trace the paths to his heart, she'd been stopped by a pulsing, tangled barrier.
Shame shame disgust wrong shouldn't feel this she'd hate me can't lose her can't
...That didn't feel like it was about the Agni Kai.
Zuko? She tries to force her thoughts into him. It's unlike anything she's tried while healing, but she's never attempted to heal chi lines as mangled as his, either.
Can you hear me? It's Katara. I'm healing you. Whatever you're feeling, it's not real. I know it hurts, but it'll be over soon.
No no no stop not you not you pain can't itch can't lose…
She felt his hand nudge hers. His fingers clawed through her healing water, nearly severing their connection. He was… trying to scratch his scar. Like he always did, especially when he was upset.
Shhhh, she thought, trying to send peaceful images. Flying on Appa. Turtleducks. ...That would probably be easier if she'd actually seen one.
She switched to images she had seen. The southern lights. The sun gleaming on the beach at Ember Island.
Zuko's smile, the first time he'd finally woken up.
She hadn't meant to picture that last one, but it seemed to shock him out of his spiral. His hand went limp over his abdomen.
It's okay. I'll save you again, she promised. She coaxed a tangled mass of chi free, with even more patience and care than she'd used on the otter penguin. Like most deep wounds, it would hurt worse before it got better, but she wouldn't give up on him.
You just have to let me.
The flow of his chi seemed to stop completely. Then, with one last shudder, it burst forth, allowing her past his defenses.
Soft. Protecting her. Holding her. We're okay. She's here. She saved me, and I…
And I…
Love her.
XXX
Zuko felt Katara's hand retreat. The spirit water—now dim and spent—splashed to the grass around him.
Despite his fears, he opened his eyes. And found her staring.
"Katara." His voice was hoarse, like he'd been chanting as loud as the men at the feast. "I'm sorry, I—"
She tackled him. At first he tensed, preparing for—he didn't know what.
But she was hugging him. She was lying on his bare chest, squeezing the remaining breath from his lungs.
"Ka—what—ow," he grunted out, though his head was dizzy with the scent of her.
She bolted upright. She either hadn't noticed or didn't care that this left her straddling his legs.
This is, he swallowed, distinctly better than I imagined this going.
"You love me," she breathed, a grin stretching her face wider than the crescent moon.
His face went even hotter. "I… meant to say that while I was conscious."
It had been the last tangled knot in his chi. The last strands of guilt woven into the tissue of his scar.
His scar. Was it still—? Had she—?
He pressed his hand to the spot. It still felt rough to the touch, but it didn't itch anymore. He knew instinctively that it would no longer feel stiff or tight when he did his morning exercises.
Katara's fingers wove through his. He'd much rather squeeze them than scratch his scar, anyway.
"But you meant to say it?"
"I would've said it at the feast. If you hadn't decided to sneak off and catch hypothermia." He smirked.
She gave his shoulder a light punch out of habit. "I just wanted to help you."
He squeezed her hand, still barely believing that this was real.
"Because of you, I didn't need it."
Her eyes widened for a moment before she laughed.
"What?" he demanded.
"Sorry, sorry! You're just—you can say the cheesiest things with a straight face."
He spluttered. "Says the one who's always making cheesy speeches about hope!"
She pointed a finger at his nose. "We already established that the Ember Island Players got everything completely wrong. Except for making you completely stiff and humorless."
He had to laugh at the look of fake annoyance on her face. Why had he ever been scared to share his feelings with her? It hadn't changed anything between them.
Her blue eyes caught his again. Maybe… hopefully it had changed something.
Tentatively, he placed his hands on her waist. She leaned down, slowly, until her hands were braced in the grass on either side of him.
"I love you," she said suddenly. "I—you already said it, and I didn't yet. So. You should know that."
He smiled, and the nagging worries finally retreated. Maybe she wouldn't stay. Maybe they couldn't always be like this. But Katara's love wasn't something that faded with time or distance. Just like she loved her brother from across the world, and like she loved Aang and Toph while they were away, she'd continue to love him no matter where she went.
But for now, where she was was with him. Silhouetted by the full moon overhead, she had never looked so beautiful.
"Technically I didn't say it either. You just heard it."
"Your heart said it." She poked his bare chest, leaving a drop of water there. "That's close enough."
"Then you don't want me to tell you?" He leaned up on his elbows and ignored the part of him that knew it was cheesy. It would be worth it to hear her laugh again, anyway. "You don't want to hear me say Katara, my heart burns for you?"
She froze as his lips lingered near her ear. Even when he leaned back on the grass, her eyes stayed wide, tracking his movements. Had he screwed up? Was she realizing he was too much of an idiot after all and—
"Oh, shut up and kiss me already."
She draped herself over his chest and stole the breath from his lungs before he could answer.
Oh. If he'd known she'd react like this, he would've let more stupidly romantic lines slip ages ago.
He held her tighter and kissed her back for everything she was worth. Everything she deserved. Every ounce of love and desire he'd held back came pouring out, as surely as if she'd untangled his chi a second time. That was how it felt: like all the pieces of him were finally returning their proper place, like he was put back together, like he was finally home.
She rolled. It startled him enough that he bit down on her lip with more force that he intended, but she didn't seem to mind. She was under him now, and her hands were roaming over his chest and into his hair and forget being put back together, she must be determined to unravel him again.
Eventually he propped himself up on his hands, gasping for breath. That was… wow.
Katara was blushing, playing with the hem of her tunic, which had ridden up a bit. It shouldn't be so hard to resist kissing the sliver of skin he saw there. When he committed to something, he didn't do it halfway, and expressing his love for her was no exception.
"Too much?" she asked breathlessly.
Not enough, part of him thought. But he pushed that aside, tried to quiet the rushing blood in his veins.
She loved him. That alone was enough.
"You just broke up with Mai, or—I guess you technically didn't break up with her yet—"
He bent down and kissed her again. He couldn't avoid thoughts of Mai forever, but he didn't want to face them now. He… he should, though, shouldn't he. It would be the honorable thing to do.
He broke off the kiss, then layed on the ground beside her, just to minimize the temptation.
"Zuko?" she asked while he gathered his thoughts. "I didn't mean to… no. I definitely meant to kiss you. But, um, I didn't mean to bring up your sort-of-ex."
"It's okay." He reached out and clasped her hand. They'd held hands a lot the past few days, especially in public. This was different. This wasn't because the Northern Tribe thought they were engaged. It was just for them.
"She'll have 'found out' that we're engaged by now," he said. "It was going to be a mess anyway. I'm glad to at least have something real come of it."
She laughed, a little higher pitched than normal. "And here I was, worried I was selling the whole 'engaged' thing too hard. I was so scared you were going to find out that I liked you."
She rolled onto her side, smiling at him with the corner of her lips buried in the grass. Maybe the temptation to kiss her wasn't as far away as he'd thought.
"We're both idiots." He smiled back. "I guess this will make pretending a lot easier. I-I mean, if you're still okay—"
"Zuko." Her free hand caressed the side of his face that wasn't smushed against the ground. It just happened to be his scarred side. He was sure that she wouldn't have differentiated between the two. "I wouldn't have agreed to be your fake fiancé in the first place if I wasn't ready to go through with it."
His eyes widened.
"I mean—not go through with it through with it—I'm not asking you to actually marry me!" She released his face to cover her own, but he just laughed.
"That should probably wait until the second date, at least."
"Shut up," she groaned.
Gently, he pulled her fingers away from her face. "Katara. I know what you mean. We don't have to make any promises, and I—I know how much you love traveling. I won't ask you to stay with me."
Her gaze fell. She pulled a blade of grass from the ground, then shredded it with her fingernail.
"I would have stayed, you know. If you'd asked."
His breath caught.
"Not forever. But longer. I feel like I left you when you needed us most."
He shrugged, the grass tickling his bare shoulder. "You're here now."
The worry etched into her face softened into a smile. "I guess I am."
He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her again. This time, instead of kissing her, he buried his face in her hair.
"Thank you," he whispered, "for being here."
She hugged him back. It couldn't last forever. Soon they'd need to leave to the Spirit Oasis, or risk being discovered. If it wouldn't upset the spirits, she could take another vial of water and fix his face some other time. Right now, though, that was the least of his worries.
Katara was here. She loved him. And that was more than enough.