CHAPTER EIGHT
It seems a heavy choice to make
And now I am under, oh
Zuko chose her. He was choosing her.
But first, he had to find Katara.
Zuko's instinct told him to go to the Third Class general room. To get there, though, he'd have to walk the entire length of the First Class promenade deck. He stopped every few steps, shooting glances behind him. Just to see if anyone was paying him any attention. Was Azula there, hiding in the shadows? Was that Mai, under that wide-brimmed hat?
When Zuko felt assured he wasn't being watched, he trotted down the length of the deck. Maybe slower than he'd hoped, but as fast as he could while remaining inconspicuous.
Zuko retraced his steps back to the Third Class general room. Down the staircase. Down that hallway and that hallway… and now here he was, at the top of that staircase again. Had it only been a few days since he'd been here looking for her? When he'd been rooted to the spot, standing here, gathering his wits? It felt like a lifetime ago already.
And now he was here to tell Katara he loved her.
He'd be saying it in front of everyone. Zuko didn't care.
But when he arrived, she wasn't there.
Katara should have known.
She should have known. She should have known, she should have known, she should have known. What had she been thinking? She was free to do whatever she wanted - as much as a woman was free to do whatever she wanted in this world - but Zuko wasn't. He'd chosen his fiancée. He'd chosen his world and his people in it. And she shouldn't fault him for that. He was loyal as could be. But still… he wasn't happy. He'd chosen misery.
Katara fought back tears. She didn't know how long she stayed in the lonely gymnasium. Rooted to the spot. Feeling sorry for herself. It wasn't only because Zuko hadn't chosen her. She was heartbroken that he'd chosen a life she knew would only stifle him.
They were going to snuff his fire out.
As she closed the door to the gymnasium behind her, Katara became aware that some amount of time had passed. The sky would be set on fire soon - at that, she tried not to think about a certain firebender - and she hoped she'd get a great view of the sunset.
Wait… that gave her an idea.
Katara made her way to the bow of the ship. She kept her head low, in case anyone - from the stewards to, worse, Azula - recognized her. She dropped the lady's hat on a chair on her way and figured she'd keep the coat for just a few minutes more. It was chilly out, after all. Katara walked down the stairs to the lower decks. She'd been certain the bow of the ship would be… free of people. But Katara stopped when she saw two people there.
"Oh! Meng. Aunt Wu."
They both turned towards her. Meng was hoisted up in Aunt Wu's arms. Meng's whole face cracked into a smile at the sight of Katara.
"Hi, Katara! Come, come, look at all this water!"
Katara forced a smile. She walked to stand near the very tip of the bow, by the railing next to Aunt Wu. Katara's hands curled on the railing, clasped together. While she tried to look strong for Meng's sake, she could see Aunt Wu's eyes studying her. Katara wasn't fooling her. Aunt Wu took in a deep breath.
"Something happened. Hasn't it?"
Katara could only nod. Aunt Wu looked out upon the water.
"Do you remember what I told you, when I read your fortune?"
Katara leaned on her elbows, cheeks cupped in her hands.
"You asked me how my hands could be so smooth."
Meng laughed at the sky. Aunt Wu chuckled.
"No, no, no! I wasn't talking about that. I meant what I read on the palms of your hands. About the man you're going to marry."
"I don't exactly want to know who that is, right now."
"You don't?"
"No. Not really."
"Well, I'm going to tell you anyway. Because I never really had the chance to finish when your brother so rudely interrupted me. I don't know much about him, unfortunately. But what I do know about him is that… he's a very powerful bender."
Katara arched an eyebrow, looking at Aunt Wu from the corner of her eyes.
"A very powerful bender? That's it?"
"Hm, hm, yes. That's it."
Katara pouted. If she was acting like a child, she really didn't care. "That doesn't make me feel any better. Destiny isn't really on my side, right now."
"Oh, Katara." Aunt Wu rested a hand on her shoulder. "Let me tell you, from fortune teller to friend. Destiny isn't all it's cracked up to be. It has a habit of bringing people together, of course. But sometimes, it's brought along by the choices we make. Give it some time. Or give it a gentle nudge in the right direction. And you'll see."
"I tried. He chose his life. And I don't belong in it."
Aunt Wu smiled.
"Maybe he's the one who needs that nudge in the right direction. Give him time. I'm sure it'll turn out all right. And if it doesn't, well. At least you can't say you haven't tried."
With that, Aunt Wu started to walk away, with Meng still in her arms.
"Oh! And before I forget."
Katara turned around. Aunt Wu's smile was wide on her face.
"I wanted to thank you. For that medicine."
"What medicine? I don't know what you're talking about."
Aunt Wu winked at Katara and, as Meng waved goodbye, left.
Katara took a deep breath. She moved to stand at the very tip of the bow. Katara pulled at her updo and let her hair fly behind her. Her hair loopies swung in the wind. She looked out upon the open water. Endless. Grand. Lonely.
At least you can't say you haven't tried.
Katara hoped Aunt Wu was right.
Sokka sat on a bench, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world when he held Suki's hand in his. He looked up when he heard someone running down the stairs leading to the Third Class general room. That's when he saw him walk in. Zuko jogged past the crowd, careful not to push anyone along the way. Silence fell upon them all, but it wasn't curious or judgemental. It was a concerned silence. Sokka, Aang, Toph, Suki and Jet looked up at Zuko in confusion. Well. Maybe except Toph. Though she looked unsettled too. Some of them shared the same glances when he reached them.
"Have you seen Katara?"
Sokka rose to his feet. "No, why? Did something happen to her?"
"No, I… I want to tell her… I… I..."
Zuko looked down. Sokka knew that look on his face.
Oh.
Oh.
Toph was as direct as always. "Spit it out, Sparky!"
"I love her, all right! I haven't stopped thinking about her for the past few days. And it's… it's so strange because it's so sudden but I can feel it, you know? I love her so much and I hope she doesn't turn me away and I wouldn't do anything to hurt her and…"
"Zuko!"
Sokka put his hand on his shoulder. Zuko gaped at him.
"What?"
"Go to her."
"I'm sorry?"
"Go to her. Go to my sister." He was sure of it when he added: "I trust you."
"You do?"
"Yeah," said Jet. He rose to his feet. "I've been thinking about what you said to me last night and you know what? You were right. I apologized to her and I wanted to apologize to you, too. And by the way, you and Katara deserve each other."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I'm saying that in the nicest way possible."
"They're right!" Aang jumped up, pulling Toph along with him. Appa groaned and Momo chatted, at his feet. "Don't worry about us. We'll be here if you need us."
"They're right, you know," said Suki, rising to her feet last. "I see it on your face."
"Come on, Sparky," finally said Toph. "I'm the blind one and I can see you love her. I'm probably the first one who figured it out! Now go find her!"
Zuko started to walk away. People clapped. Sokka joined them, then the others did, and soon, everyone was clapping. Some whooped. Others shouted their support. By the time Zuko was climbing the staircase out of the general room, a chorus of "go to her, son!" and "don't even look back, boy, just walk until you find her!" followed after him.
A brilliant idea - if he could say so himself - popped in Sokka's mind.
"Hey! Zuko!"
Zuko turned around, halfway up the staircase.
"What?"
"You might want to look at the bow of the ship."
Zuko nodded. "Thanks!" And with that, he disappeared.
Sokka smiled. He sank back down on the bench and wrapped an arm around Suki. He knew Katara was in good hands. And if, somehow, he had misjudged Zuko, and he never misjudged anyone, she'd kick his ass easily.
She was there.
Zuko stopped. Awed. All he could see of her was her back turned to him. It was enough. Everything about Katara was enough.
Her hair, freed from its updo, flew in the wind. Down on one knee, she was hunched in on herself, torso pressed against her arms and head bowed. She was a dark silhouette, a sharp contrast against the sunlit sky. The clouds were on fire around her, oranges and pinks and purples melting together. Water - of a deep, rich purple and highlighted in orange - rumbled under her as the ship broke through the ocean's surface. Katara didn't move. She didn't say anything. She only listened.
Zuko walked closer. Feet moving on their own. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and his knees shook. He searched for the right words. Zuko found them.
"Hello, Katara."
Simple, really. Just a hello. But at that, she spun around. Katara blinked. Once. Twice. She looked at him as if she couldn't believe he was there, as if if she blinked too hard, he'd vanish. Mouth slightly agape, eyes wide. Zuko smiled.
"I changed my mind."
Katara grinned. Her smile reached her blue eyes, making them sparkle. He would cherish that smile for the rest of his life, he was sure. Zuko walked closer. His long coat quivered in the wind. He looked around, searching for more words to say. When he tried to mention he'd seen her brother and friends, Katara put a finger to her lips.
"Shhh. Come here. Give me your hand."
He took her hand. Without hesitation, without fear. Katara pulled him closer until they were standing less than an arm away. Her hand - warm, yet cool at the same time - rested on his wrist. Could she feel his shivering nerves? Could she feel his heart racing?
"Now close your eyes."
Zuko's smile spread further on his lips. Still, he looked at her. Quizzical.
"Go on!" insisted Katara. "Please."
Zuko closed his eyes. One hand still firmly holding his wrist, Katara moved aside. Her other hand touched the small of his back. She brought him forward, against the railing.
"Step up," said her voice, not authoritative, but a blend of seriousness and laughter.
At first, he didn't. But then he put one foot up. And then the other. His hands rested against the railing, steadying him. For a moment, there was nothing but the salty breeze on his face. Then Katara was there, standing right behind him, keeping him from falling.
"Hold on to the railing. Like that, yeah. And don't peek."
"I'm not."
Zuko kept his eyes closed, feeling the fresh air on his face. His smile showed all his teeth. Her body pressed flush against him. Strong. Steady. Zuko shivered. This wasn't a bad feeling. Katara was warm upon his back. She leaned over his shoulder, chin resting on him.
"Do you trust me?"
"You know I do."
Katara wrapped her hands around his wrists. She extended his arms on either side of him. Zuko felt his smile grow even wider. If that was even possible. Her hands moved to rest on either side of his waist. Zuko swallowed. Katara's breath tickled his neck when she whispered in his ear, lips almost touching his jaw:
"Okay. Open your eyes."
He did. Zuko gasped. If he had any tears left to shed, they would have fallen right then and there. Nothing had prepared him for the moment he would look out upon the open ocean, with nothing but water and sky, as the sun melted in the waves. Everything was a wash of red and blue, oranges and pinks, purples and lilacs. There was nothing else but the night and day meeting each other.
"I'm flying, Katara!"
Katara's arms wrapped around his torso, with her hands resting on his stomach. She smiled into him. Zuko kept his eyes glued to the horizon. The sky turned an even deeper shade of orange as they reached dusk. Then Katara's hands intertwined with his, cool and soft and secure. Katara leaned her chin against his shoulder. Her voice was soft in his ear.
"Come Josephine in my flying machine, and it's up she goes, up she goes…"
"Not the secret tunnel song?"
Katara chuckled. "No, not that one. But do you remember Oma and Shu?"
"How could I forget?"
Zuko could feel Katara's nose nudging his jawline. Not quite tall enough to reach his cheek. Katara brought their arms closer to their bodies. Close. She was so close. No. She wasn't close. She was there. Completely there. For once, Zuko didn't feel like pulling away. This was where he belonged. Where he wanted to be. He looked at her. Their noses touched.
"Can Titanic be our secret cave?" he whispered, voice almost swallowed by the wind.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
"Yeah. I want to find a way."
Zuko leaned forward. Katara leaned forward, too. He closed his eyes. Zuko held his breath. He'd been hoping for this moment for so long, for what felt like a lifetime…
Their lips met halfway. She kissed him and he kissed her. Standing there, at the very front of the ship, with nothing but the ocean and the setting sun as their witnesses. Kissing Katara was soft, it was sweet, it was deep and wonderful. She tasted of adventure, of life and joy. Zuko felt like he was breathing in after being underwater too long. When he leaned against her she followed, and when she leaned against him he did the same. Zuko's fingers tangled in her hair, at the nape of her neck. Katara's hand reached up to his face and caressed his cheek, fingers running against his scar. She smiled into him.
Kissing Katara was all he hoped it would be and more. Kissing Katara was perfect.
Katara looked at the bow of the ship through the television screen. Where everything was orange and pink and brand new in her memory, now Titanic stood at the bottom of the Atlantic, in gloomy blues and greens. Katara looked away, back to the crew of treasure hunters and Korra, sitting there in front of her. She managed a smile.
"This was the last time Titanic saw daylight."
Asami's dreamy, romantic expression turned sour.
"So we're up to dusk on the night of the sinking. Six hours to go."
"Don't you love it?" Mako barked a humorless laugh. "There's Smith, he's standing there with the iceberg warning in his fucking hand…" He lifted a finger. "... Excuse me... in his hand, and he's ordering more speed."
"Twenty-six years of experience working against him," said Bolin.
"He figures anything big enough to sink the ship will be seen in time to turn," continued Asami. "But the ship's too big, with too small a rudder... it can't corner worth shit. Everything he knows is wrong."
Katara looked down at Zuko's headpiece in her old hands.
She couldn't wait to get to the next part.
Katara's heart pounded as she stepped in Zuko's room. They'd sneaked from the bow of the ship to Katara's room - to get her art supplies - and then had sneaked back here. His uncle was gone and there was no one else at this hour. They were probably all at dinner. Katara couldn't even think about eating. Her head was high in the clouds, her feet firm on the ground and her hand in Zuko's. Katara felt warm and fuzzy at the thought of their kiss at the bow. Their first kiss. She hoped it wasn't the last.
Zuko giggled as he closed the door behind her. Katara set down her sketchbook and, walking aimlessly in his suite, looked around at the décor's opulence.
His suite was a beauty to behold. Truly. She'd never tire of looking at it.
"Will this light do?" asked Zuko.
She looked at him, eyebrows frowned. "What?"
"Don't artists need good light?"
Oh! Right. Zuko had told her earlier he wanted her to draw… something. He hadn't said exactly what. Katara pulled on her worst French accent and ran a finger on the fireplace's mantle.
"Zat is true, I am not yoused to wurrkin' in such 'orreeble conditions!"
Zuko burst out laughing.
Katara's eyes landed on a painting in the corner. She gasped.
"Monet!"
Katara ran to the painting, hand hovering above the lily pads. Was this real? A real painting by Claude Monet? She'd always dreamed of buying one, but of course, that dream was far-fetched at best. Katara adored the way he drew the water, the way it glistened in the light. That was exactly how it felt when she was bending. This didn't look perfect, like many classical paintings she'd seen. This felt real. Tangible, yet like in a dream.
"You know his work?"
"Of course! Isn't he great…? His work is fascinating. You can see all his brushstrokes! And his use of color, oh!" Katara didn't even wait to see if Zuko was listening. She knew he was. "I saw him once... through a hole in his garden fence in Giverny."
"I wish I'd been there."
Katara rose from her crouch and watched as Zuko opened up a large green safe. She arched an eyebrow. What was he doing?
Zuko gestured vaguely at the safe. "Mai insists on luggin this thing everywhere."
Katara felt her heart sink. Mai. His fiancée. Right.
"Should we be expecting her anytime soon?"
"Not as long as the gossip holds out."
Zuko showed her what he had found in the safe. Katara took in a sharp breath. She lifted the heart-shaped necklace up to her eye. It was heavy, so heavy in her palm, but oh so beautiful too, of the bluest hue, attached to a sparkly string which, in and of itself, must have cost more money than she'd make in a lifetime.
"That's… nice. What is it? A sapphire?"
"A diamond. A very rare diamond called the Heart of the Ocean."
Katara swallowed. Even holding that thing felt wrong.
"Katara, I want you to draw me like one of your French men. Wearing this."
She nodded. That was more than doable.
"Wearing only this."
Katara looked at him with wide eyes. Zuko was smiling. The way his golden eyes shone in the light… he looked… pleased, but also nervous.
"... Okay."
He never stopped looking at her as he took back the necklace. Katara smiled, too. His fingers' touch was electric. Zuko started to walk away. Then, he spun around.
"Wait! I want to try something. Come here."
He took her hand, dragging her along to a mirror, mounted on a desk. Without really thinking, Katara sat in the chair facing the desk. Zuko crouched behind her, eye-to-eye with her. Somehow, the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. His hands reached for the back of her neck… then he stopped.
"Can I?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
He removed her mother's necklace and she put it safely in her pocket. Holding the Heart of the Ocean between his two hands, he put it around Katara's neck. Zuko didn't click it shut. He held it there. At the back of her neck. The Heart of the Ocean caught the light. It sparkled. Even more beautifully than Iroh's jewels. It was truly magnificent.
"It's beautiful."
"Yeah. And it's the colour of your eyes."
"It is."
She saw Zuko's reflection in the mirror. He hesitated. Until he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the back of her head. Katara closed her eyes. Smiling into the touch.
"Maybe you're the one who should be wearing it," he whispered in her hair.
"Oh, no, no, no. It's yours. And I'm the one who has to draw you. Remember?"
"Right. Help me put it on?"
"It would be my pleasure."
The Heart of the Ocean clasped around his neck and Katara's mother's necklace clasped back around hers, Zuko smiled at her. Teasing.
"How do I look?"
"Handsome. As always."
Zuko kissed her nose and walked over to the fireplace. He took in a deep breath and pointed two fingers at it. Sharply. Fire glowed from his hand into the fireplace. Warmth surrounded Katara. Everything glowed orange. Flickering.
"Make yourself comfortable."
With that, Zuko left. Katara turned a table around and set down her art supplies. Her sketchbook was open. At the ready. She dragged a couch forward, oriented it towards the fireplace, and adjusted the cushions. Katara sat down on a plush-cushioned chair. She started sharpening her charcoal pen. Her knife's flick-flick-flick and the fire's crackling were the only sounds in the room. Katara looked out at her working station. Nervousness bubbled in her chest. Katara had never felt nervous before drawing someone. But now…
Now he was Zuko. And it felt… different. Intimate.
Click. The door opened. When Katara looked up, she saw him in the doorway. Wearing a silk kimono. Black with golden accents, it fell around him like wings, covering his body from neck to floor. Katara's hands stopped moving, knife halfway to her pen. She stared. Zuko's sly grin reminded her of the one from last night at dinner, when he'd introduced the guest list. When he twirled the kimono's tassel, Katara swallowed. He reached for her and dropped a dime in the palm of her hand.
With a raised brow, Zuko said:
"The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a perfect soldier boy. As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want."
Katara nodded. "Got it."
He nodded, too. There was a moment of hesitancy. Then Zuko opened the kimono.
Katara's jaw dropped. Black and gold silk fell to the ground. With barely a whisper. At first she didn't know where to look. At his face? At his…? Her gaze followed the lines of his body, from his face to his chiseled torso down and down and down… Katara cleared her throat. She somewhat regretted that Zuko had started a fire.
Had it always been this hot in here?
"Do I look… good enough?"
Katara looked up. She saw insecurities behind those golden eyes. Katara wanted to jump up and hug him. But that would have been intrusive. So she stayed put. Offering comfort in her words instead.
"Good enough? Zuko, you're… you're the best model I've ever had."
"I am? But…" His hand touched his scarred cheek. "...my face, it's not…"
"Do you know how many artists would kill to have a face and a body like yours to draw? Your lovely eyes, your asymmetrical face, your… your everything? You're more than good enough, Zuko. You're gorgeous, you… You look breathtaking."
It seemed like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Zuko nodded.
"Thank you. Um. Where should I...?"
Katara vaguely gestured at the…
"On the bed. I mean, the couch."
Zuko smiled and almost chuckled. But not quite. Just a shiver of his shoulders. He settled down on the couch, on his side. Facing her. He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, so she guided him. One hand over his head, the other down near his mouth. He adjusted his body. Just a bit. There. Like that. Perfect.
"Keep your eyes on me. And try to stay still."
Zuko nodded. Katara took in a deep breath. She started to draw.
"You lied to us," said Mako, not quite accusatory.
Katara blinked. "Hm?
"You did wear the diamond."
Katara waved a hand at him. "Oh, for barely a second. I don't think it counts."
"I don't care about the diamond," cut in Korra in hushed, revering tones. "I care about him! It must have felt so… intimate. What did it feel like? To draw him like that?"
"Well! This must have been one of the most erotic moments of his life, I'm sure."
Katara smiled, shifting in her chair on board Asami's ship. Eyes landed on her as the treasure hunters' crew leaned forward with bated breaths. She took comfort in their silence, their interest, their expectations. She could see their questions, their comments, buried in their heads. Not all of them were appropriate, though what was appropriate about this?
"You've seen the drawing. My mind was coming on empty. I felt like I was watching the sun during an eclipse, as if I shouldn't have been looking but did anyway. He lay there for over two hours. I'm sure it must have been somewhat awful for him, wearing that thing while lying there. Vulnerable."
"Can you…" Mako cleared his throat. "...give us any details?"
"Oh! I remember him telling me I was blushing. And believe me, I was. He called me Big Artiste and told me he probably thought Monsieur Monet wouldn't blush."
Asami chuckled. "And what did you say?"
"That he only painted landscapes, of course."
"And did you… ah… what happened next?"
She looked at Bolin. He looked away. Katara smiled.
"You mean… did we do it?"
The whole crew shifted on their seats. Teo grinned, bowing his head. Asami rubbed the back of her neck. She shared a glance with Korra. Who was smiling, too. Bolin and Mako, though, didn't move a muscle. They only stared.
Katara waved a dismissive hand.
"Oh, trust me. Nothing happened on that couch. I was a professional. But you'll see."
"I'm done."
Zuko's heart pounded in his ears. It felt like it'd been pounding for years, but it had only been a few hours. He rose up from the couch, stretching his stiff arms over his head and pulling himself to the tip of his toes. Zuko saw Katara look. Stealing a last glance. With a smile and trembling hands, he put his kimono back on and tied it at his waist. He was shaking. All over. Zuko couldn't believe he'd just... done that. But he had! He really had!
Zuko approached Katara's makeshift desk. He leaned over her shoulder, looking down at her drawing. She was scratching the date at the bottom. April 14th, 1912. And then her initials. K.L. Katara showed it to him. After admiring his drawing for a second, he looked at her. Zuko smiled. Truly grateful.
"Thank you."
With that, he leaned down for another kiss. Feeling bold, Zuko opened his mouth. He felt a tingle run down his spine when Katara's lips parted. Their tongues twisted together and Katara chuckled into him. Kissing Katara the second time was just the same as kissing her for the first time. It felt right. It felt good. It felt so, so, so good.
Zuko pulled away. He nudged her nose with his. She chuckled again.
"I'm gonna go get dressed."
"I'll be waiting right here."
Zuko took Katara's sketchbook. Before he put it in the safe, though, he had another idea. He went to fetch a blank scroll and a brush with an ink pot. Zuko started to write.
"What are you doing?" asked Katara, coming over.
"Leaving a note." He handed her the diamond in its velvet box. "Could you put that in the safe for me, please? Thank you."
Katara left.
Zuko almost hesitated before finishing his message. Almost. After putting the scroll with the velvet box in the safe, he ran off to get changed. Before he closed the door, though, Zuko turned around again. An idea had appeared, fully formed, in his head. He told Katara:
"Hey. I have something for you."
"You do?"
"Yeah. Give me a minute."
When Zuko returned, Katara laughed. She took his straw hat, veil and dress with a smile. There was even a small pot with red makeup he'd stolen from Azula.
Everything the Painted Lady might need.
"I know you may not have the time to go back to your cabin for now, but… I thought that maybe… the Painted Lady and the Blue Spirit could get a last hurrah? After that, I'm hanging my mask and costume. Promise."
"Got it. Now go get dressed!"
Zuko ran off to his room again. He put on two layers of clothes. His regular outfit underneath and his black clothes over it. Walking around in the Blue Spirit's regalia all the time might not be such a good idea, he reasoned, so that was why he did it. He put the mask over his face and ceased to be Zuko. Just for one night. Just for one last night.
When he walked out of his bedroom, Katara was already there. Looking magnificent as the Painted Lady. She was currently standing by the desk, looking at herself in his handheld mirror. She looked up and smiled under her straw hat.
"You ready?"
"Always ready."
She heard someone walking in the suite. They had to hurry.
Katara reached for the water in the pipes. She lifted her hands. In the hallway, mist rose from the ceiling and floor. People looked around. Confused. Soon, the lights started flickering. A door down the hallway opened. The Painted Lady and the Blue Spirit walked out, her gliding and him swinging his swords. Gasps echoed along the walls. People bowed, others offered prayers. The Spirits ran past them on their way to freedom.
Someone appeared at the suite's door.
"Stop them!"
Azula.
Katara quickened her pace. Zuko sheathed his swords and followed after her, avoiding the thin ice she used to make it look like she was flying. Someone slipped and fell. Oops. Katara sincerely hoped it was Azula.
When they made it to the elevator, the valet screamed bloody murder.
"Take us down," ordered Katara in her raspy, Painted Lady voice. "Hurry!"
With trembling hands, the valet closed the gate and activated the machine. Azula arrived, a step behind. Her hands clawed at the gate. Zuko lifted his middle finger at her. Katara burst out laughing. They waved goodbye. The valet eyed them at first as if they'd lost their minds, but then a twinkle in his eye told Katara he'd realized they weren't actual Spirits. He waved at Azula too, then. Azula made a screech like a wounded animal. She soon disappeared out of sight.
They scared a few crewmembers on the way down. Katara knew Azula mustn't be far away, but she wanted just a moment of peace. They made it to a door with a small round window at the top. The door flapped closed and they stopped. Breathing heavily. Katara leaned her straw hat against Zuko's arm, heart pounding. She felt so alive.
"Your sister's pretty tough," she whispered, panting.
"Yeah, well, that's Azula for you. But I don't want to talk about her."
Pulling his mask up onto his forehead, he clasped his hand with Katara's and brought her closer. Zuko backtracked until his back rested against the wall. His hands travelled down her arms all the way to her waist and her hands curled around his shoulders. Feeling his strong muscles. Katara couldn't help but be in awe of him. He was so strong, yet he looked so young, the way he smiled. Carefree. Like that time at the party.
Zuko leaned down for a kiss. Katara pushed herself on her tiptoes. She didn't have the time to feel his blessed lips on hers, though.
Zuko looked up. Azula had turned the corner.
"Oh, shit."
Katara took Zuko's hand and pulled him along.
"Go!"
They ran.
Giggling and barely looking at where they were going, they turned at a corner. Dead end. Trapped! Katara pulled a door open. She shoved Zuko in after her and locked it just in time. She barely heard a thud! and a rush of flames beyond the door. Azula screamed. They were safe, for now. Kind of safe. There was no way out except a ladder going down. Katara put her hands on her ears. It was so loud in here, she could barely hear herself think. Zuko pulled his mask down and put his hands over his ears, too.
"We have to go down!"
"What?"
"What?"
Before Zuko could explain, Katara jumped down the ladder.
They stumbled upon the boiler room, where hundreds of workers toiled long hours every day to make the ship go forward. The growl of metal was all around, machines pumping and turning. Some men were dropping coal in boilers. Others pushed carts forward. When eyes started to land on them, many gasped. They bowed as respectfully as they could in the cramped space. Katara smiled. Who knew a costume could make anyone bow?
"It's the Painted Lady! And the Blue Spirit!"
Without a word, Katara started to run. She heard Zuko follow, right behind her.
Her veil fluttered and her dress billowed, gorgeous in the low light. Everything was orange down here, on fire. Burning hot. It was a sharp contrast to the world up above, filled with ocean blues. Not that Katara complained. Zuko knew her world, of water and salt. This was Zuko's world, made of fire and smoke. Nothing - not even any sunset - could compare to this growling fire. Down here, she felt closer to him than ever before.
They stopped in a secluded spot. Away from stares.
Around them, everything pounded, roared, lived. Fire was life, Katara realized. It burned hot and bright and had a mind of its own. It wasn't complacent, it couldn't be stifled. Fire burned until there was nothing left. That's what would've happened to Zuko had he stayed with them up there. He would have burned inside out.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Zuko, pushing his mask up on his forehead.
His sweaty hair, underneath, stuck to his skin. His eyes gleamed. He breathed in and out heavily, but he didn't look tired. Zuko looked alight, at ease, alive.
He looked beautiful.
"I'm thinking about fire."
Katara tilted her head up. At first Zuko's eyes searched hers, as if he didn't understand, but then that soft smile crossed over his face. He leaned down, pushing the Painted Lady's straw hat up. His hands, gentle, moved the veil aside. He kissed her.
They shared their third kiss in the boiler room, amidst a sea of orange and steam. Kissing Zuko for the third time was like kissing him for the first and the second. He was smokey, tender, never taking more than he gave. But as the kisses went by, he was growing bolder. He reached down and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his muscular chest. Katara wrapped her arms around his neck. She faintly realized her hat was slipping away and falling. Her makeup must have been ruined, too.
She didn't care.
Zuko's tongue explored her mouth, playing around, testing the waters. Her fingers toyed with his hair. Zuko moaned.
There was only fire and them, kissing in the dark.
Iroh sipped his brandy, wondering not for the first time why he even bothered to follow Ozai wherever he went. To keep an eye on him, that he was sure. But also to keep an eye on him just in case he wanted to pull something on Zuko. Probably.
He still hated brandy, though.
When Azula walked in, Iroh tried not to look too interested.
"He went into the boiler room. They didn't want me to go down there. So I sent stewards to look for him."
Iroh bit back a victorious smile.
"This is a ship, he can't be far!" Ozai raised an eyebrow. "I hope they find him."
Iroh took another sip of his brandy. He hoped Zuko knew what he was doing. Well. He was probably figuring it all out on the fly.
Ah, the joys of young love…
Zuko opened the cargo hold door. Cold air hit him like a wave, shocking after the hotness of the boiler room. As cold as a firebender could get, anyway. He held the door open for her. Katara giggled something about Zuko being gentlemanly and he took her hand. They walked amongst the mountains of crates and boxes. When they found a secluded spot, just in case anyone were to somehow be out looking for them, Zuko started to slip out of his costume. Katara, behind him, cleared her throat.
"Um. What are you doing?"
"With Azula on the prowl, I don't think it'd be wise for the Blue Spirit and the Painted Lady to be seen even more, don't you think?"
"Oh! Yes, you're probably right."
He heard the shuffling of straw when she removed her hat, but he didn't look. Zuko knew Katara had thrown her costume over her civilian clothes, but he still wanted to give her privacy. He waited until she told him it was okay to look, then they stashed their hat and mask and dark clothes in a safe place, off to the side, propped up between a wall and a crate. Zuko clasped their hands together. His feet guided them between the crates until it appeared. The burgundy Renault he'd seen when leaving Southampton.
Katara dropped his hand and stood by the steering wheel, eying the car with awed eyes. Zuko cleared his throat. Katara spun around. Eyes questioning.
"Hm?"
Zuko made a vague gesture at the door.
"Oh! Of course."
Katara walked around Zuko and opened the door. She helped him up and clicked the door shut. It smelled new in here. The scents of leather and flowers permeated the air. A honk echoed through the cargo hold. Zuko pulled down the window. He leaned over Katara's shoulder, next to her ear. Zuko looked at her from the corner of his eyes. She was grinning.
"Where to, sir?" asked Katara.
Zuko thought for just a second.
"How about the moon? Or the sun?"
"What do you mean, 'how about'?"
"Well, you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun."
"What?"
"Waterbender. Firebender."
"Oh! Yeah, sure. But does it sound right?"
Zuko shrugged. That was fair. It didn't sound right. "Maybe it doesn't."
"Let's try again, then. Where to, sir?"
Another, much better idea settled in his brain. Zuko leaned close to her ear.
"To the stars."
"Ah," she grinned. He felt Katara shiver. "That does sound better."
Feeling himself growing bolder by the second, Zuko curled his hands under her arms. He pulled Katara to the back of the car. She chuckled. Zuko pushed the window back up, just in case people came around and heard. The back of the car was a bit small for two, but comfortable nonetheless. They snuggled on the plush upholstery seat, hands intertwined. Katara's eyes gleamed with warmth and a hint of something else, meeting his own.
They didn't speak. Not yet.
Then, he found where the smell of flowers came from. Zuko looked up. A small bouquet of flowers had been attached to a wall in a crystal vase. Zuko smiled.
"What?" asked Katara.
"Look." She turned to look behind her. "Fire lilies. They're flowers from home. They only grow in the height of summer. It's a miracle they survived out here."
"They're beautiful."
"And look. They're tied with blue ribbons."
She turned back around to look at him.
"As if they belonged there."
"Yeah. As if."
Zuko leaned forward. They kissed once, twice, and Zuko pulled away. He wasn't entirely ready. Not yet. He wanted to let this moment last longer. Just a little longer.
"Are you nervous?" asked Zuko.
"No. You?"
"No. Yes. I... a bit. Can this wait? Just a moment?"
She nodded, a warm smile on her face. Understanding. Before any awkward silence could settle between them, Katara said out of the blue:
"You know, I never told you but... I like the sound of your voice."
He blinked. "You do?"
"Hm, hm. It's raspy yet soft. Makes me think of sand on a beach. I like it."
"I'll take that as a compliment, coming from a waterbender. What should I say, then?"
"I don't know. My name, maybe?"
Zuko blinked again.
"Your name?"
"Yeah. I like the way you say my name."
Saying her name was more than fine. He loved the way it danced on his tongue. Zuko brought her closer, even closer than before, and whispered:
"Katara, Katara, Katara, Katara, Katara, Katara…"
Every time he said her name, he'd punctuate it by kissing her. Behind her ear. Along her jawline. To the spot where her neck met her shoulder… Katara closed her eyes, body tense and smile curling her lips. Zuko felt her shiver. And he shivered, too.
Katara opened her eyes, lips apart. When she didn't say anything, Zuko asked:
"How do you feel?"
"I feel… great. You?"
"I'm not nervous anymore."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'm sure. Is this your…" Zuko swallowed. "Is this your first time, too?"
"Yes."
"Oh… Katara, I… I'm sorry. It's probably gonna hurt and I… I promise, I…"
"Zuko. It's okay. I trust you. I wouldn't want to live this with anyone else."
"Really?"
"Really."
Zuko was shaking all over. But not of fear. Of anticipation. He was ready, now.
"Put your hands on me, Katara."
"... Okay."
She unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands trailed up and down his torso. Zuko didn't move a muscle; he couldn't. It wasn't unpleasant, though. This was the good kind of freeze. Her hands went down to his belt, barely grazing it and sending shivers down his spine. The things she did to him… he couldn't describe them fairly, really.
Katara wrapped her arms around his torso and looked him in the eye.
"So, you're sure about this?" asked Katara.
"Yes. Entirely. Completely."
"Good. If at any moment you want to stop, tell me."
"Same thing for you."
"I will."
She kissed him with an open mouth this time, and brought him down with her.
It happened.
In the back of that car.
After the first few uncomfortable minutes, they moved in tandem. Together. Push and pull. Push and pull. At first, it was good, but then it grew into great, into wonderful. Push. Zuko groaned. Pull. Katara gasped. It built up, built up, built up… until it became too much. Push and pull. Push. Whimper. Pull. Moan. When the right moment came, when he felt like his entire body was going to burst, Zuko reached out. His hand pushed against the steamy window. Leaving an imprint behind.
Katara laughed. He dropped his hand. Zuko looked at her as she laughed. He breathed in. Breathed out. Breathed in. Breathed out. Release. He felt release. And so he focussed on her. With her head thrown back and eyes closed.
Zuko felt himself smile.
He loved her laugh. He loved her smiles and her eyes and her skin and her hair. He loved her roaring fires and her cool waters. He loved making love to her.
He loved her. He loved her so much.
"Katara…" He panted, voice barely a grunt. "I think I'm in love with you."
Katara's face fell. Her laughter died in her throat. Her eyes opened. Wide. She stopped moving. Nerves rattling his bones, Zuko stayed there, lying on his back, with her on top of him, like that night when she'd saved him and that night at the party. Straddling his hips. Katara was beautiful, sweat at her brow and hair messy, pouring around her shoulders. Her lips, almost bruised, were agape in disbelief, and he wanted to kiss her just for that. Just for being her.
Instead, Zuko waited. Patient. He felt his heart sink when she asked:
"Are you saying this just because of what we're doing?"
"No. No, no, no, I'm serious." He hoped nothing but honesty shone in his eyes. For that was exactly how he felt. He meant it. "I'm in love with you, Katara La."
Her smile could have brightened the moon, the sun and the stars.
"I'm in love with you, too, Zuko Kai."
Katara reached for Zuko's face, warm hands cupping his cheeks. Her thumb traced constellations on his scar. Zuko tensed again. He felt it, he felt her, he felt every inch of her, to the tip of his toes. Katara was warm. She was so, so warm... How could she be so warm? Was it their shared body heat or the way she kindled the fire inside him? He wouldn't mind any of these answers. He wouldn't mind anything. Not when it came to her.
Katara leaned forward. They kissed again. And again. Deep. Messy. Beautiful. Wonderful. Push and pull, push and pull. Push and…. oh…! Pull and… ah…! They kissed. And again. And again and again and… Push and pull. Push and pull. Push and...
Until Zuko pulled back, gentle, and looked her in the eye.
"You're trembling," he whispered.
"No, I'm not. You're the one who's trembling."
"Oh. Oh, um, that's true. Does it… Does it hurt anymore? I'm… I'm sorry if..."
"It doesn't." Katara kissed his lips. Reassuring. She looked him in the eye again. "It really, really doesn't. Don't worry about me, Zuko. I'm gonna be all right. I feel…" She let out a small sigh. "I feel great."
"Okay. Good. That's… That's good."
Zuko breathed out. Satisfied. His whole body felt soft. Pliable. Exhausted. He kissed Katara's sweaty forehead. With a heavy sigh, she rested her head against his chest. He felt her smile on his skin. Her hair tickled Zuko's throat as his chin reposed on the top of her head. Their hearts beat in harmony. Perfectly. Zuko closed his eyes. He felt nothing but peace then, maybe for the first time in his life.
Sweet, blessed peace.
It took everything Mai had in her not to eat away at her nails.
Instead, she paced around the suite, hands clasped behind her back. Mai almost jumped when Azula finally arrived, like a shadow along the walls. Azula wasn't smirking. She looked contrite. Angered. Blue fire blossomed at her fingertips. Mai wasn't a firebender, but she could still relate. It felt useless to ask, but she did anyway:
"Where is he? Did you find him?"
"No. No, I didn't. I wanted to go to the boiler room myself, and I almost made it too, but an officer stopped me. The stewards will find him. They have to. If they don't…"
"Do you think Zuko would run away like that?"
"I don't know my brother anymore, if that's what you're asking."
Something hitched at the back of Mai's mind. Something… something important. But what? Oh. She hadn't looked through her safe, like she did every night. Just to make sure the diamond was still in there. Mai almost floated to the safe and unlocked it, acting mechanically. When she saw some things that didn't belong there, though, Mai froze. Nothing had been taken but these had been added?
Mai pulled the first thing out. It was a distastefully old sketchbook. She flipped through the drawings. An old woman with more jewelry than she could count wrapped around her neck. A little girl reading a book with a woman. Male nude studies…
She turned the page. Mai went impossibly still.
"Mai? What is it? Show me!"
"I'm not sure you want to see that. It's your brother."
Not listening as always, Azula looked over Mai's shoulder. Azula laughed. She actually laughed. Mai wanted to grab her by the shoulders, shake her, slap her, pierce her heart with one of the throwing knives she'd left at home. Or maybe with a hatpin. She wanted Azula to feel the way she was feeling. Like her whole world was crumbling down around her. Or like she was losing control. Second by second.
"Well, well, well!" said Azula. "That's a part of Zuzu I never wanted to see."
Today's date had been scribbled at the bottom right corner alongside two rather familiar initials. Mai's entire face contorted with fury. K. L.
Katara La.
Mai sniffed. Disdainfully. This wasn't supposed to be happening. She wasn't supposed to look at… at… to look at her fiancé like this until their wedding night. And he definitely hadn't been supposed to be seen like… like this… by another woman!
And he was wearing her engagement gift at that.
And only her engagement gift.
"Oh, that's too good!" Azula cackled some more, just to rub salt in the wound at this point. "He wasn't wrong, that La girl knows how to draw. It's unmistakably him. I'm afraid your wedding night is ruined, Mai. He's not exactly going to be the perfect husband now. Not when that peasant girl has been… ahem… between the sheets."
Mai turned to the second thing in the safe. A scroll. She put the sketchbook under her armpit and unrolled the scroll. Zuko's inelegant characters mocked her.
He was mocking her. From beyond the page.
Sweetpea, now you can keep us both locked in your safe. Zuko.
Mai dropped the scroll. Grabbing the sketchbook, she opened it again and pulled out his drawing. She was going to tear it to shreds with her bare hands.
Mai stopped at the last second.
Wait.
What was that line Mai had once heard in a play? Or something akin to it?
Ah, yes.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
"I have a better idea."