CHAPTER NINE
And it's breaking over me
A thousand miles down to the sea bed
They'd broken apart some time ago, with Katara now mostly resting on his stomach and chest. Their bodies were covered by his long, dark coat, except for their bare feet. Leaving them exposed. Were they going to stay out here all night or leave sometime soon? Zuko had no idea. Zuko had never had no idea. Every day was planned by others, planned to the second. Not now. Now he had no plan. Not knowing was fresh and new. It was exciting. Right about now, all he knew for certain was that Katara would one day be the death of him.
Why else would he feel so spent, exhausted, worn-out by her?
He didn't mind that feeling, though. That was true. He didn't mind it at all.
"I can feel your heart beating," said Katara.
Zuko smiled.
"I can feel yours, too."
He kept his eyes closed. She was there, resting her head against his chest and he was there, resting his chin on her head. They were there. Huddling in the dark. Zuko still had trouble believing him and Katara formed an us. Together. They hadn't moved an inch since they'd stopped. Which had only been a few minutes ago. But a few long, peaceful minutes. Zuko could feel Katara's lips moving on his skin when she said:
"Did we really just… do it?"
Zuko frowned. "Do you have any regrets?"
He opened his eyes. Katara raised her head and looked back at him.
"No. None."
"Me neither."
Katara reached forward, pushing sweaty hair out of his eyes. She ran her hand along his scarred cheek, as if for good measure, and looked Zuko in the eye.
"I didn't… I didn't mean… It feels a bit unreal. Like something out of a fantasy."
"You... fantasized about this?"
Katara blushed. "Well, maybe I have. A little. But I'm mostly talking about being swept off my feet by a fairy tale prince."
"What makes you think I'm a prince?"
"You. Your character. Handsome, honourable man who loves me for me barges into my life and takes me in for a ride. Isn't that the definition of a fairy tale prince?"
"You're the one who found me first."
"I did. But you came back."
"Yeah. I came back."
Zuko ran his hand in Katara's hair, stroking her cheek with his thumb. To think… if he hadn't changed his mind… that he would have missed out on all… this. Every kiss, every touch, every shiver… The bow, the drawing, here in the car… He would have missed out. He would have missed her. Zuko kissed her forehead. Katara chuckled. He felt it rumbling through his chest. Rumbling through his body, through his bones.
"So you…" Zuko was the one who blushed, this time. He cleared his throat. "You... um… you liked it?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I liked it a lot."
"Me too."
They smiled at each other. Grinning like fools. Katara settled her head back down on his chest and Zuko settled his chin back down on her head. He listened to their hearts beating. Breathed in, breathed out. Breathed in… That content smile spread on his face once more.
Peace. Sweet, blessed peace.
But then he heard them. He heard them coming.
"They ran down there."
"All right."
Zuko's eyes snapped open.
"We have to get out of here. Right now."
"Bloody hell! It's cold."
Up in the crow's nest, the lookouts, Frederick Fleet and Reginald Lee, were standing in the cold. They rubbed their gloved hands against their arms as they looked out upon the endless pit of darkness. The ocean was calm. So calm. Almost too calm. If an iceberg were to glide over the waters, they wouldn't be able to see it. But still they went on under the Captain's orders, full steam ahead. Without care. Without prudence.
"You can smell ice, you know, when it's near," said Fleet.
Fleet was full of shit and he knew it. But talking was better than hearing his clattering teeth. Lee looked him over. His face scrunched up in disbelief.
"Bollocks!"
Lee shoved him aside. Fleet's hands rubbed his arms. Again.
"Well, I can, all right?"
Nah, he couldn't. And he knew it.
First Officer William McMaster Murdoch walked out into the cold night air. Second Officer Charles Lightoller followed after him, walking just a step behind. Murdoch rubbed his gloved hands together. He didn't like this. He didn't like this one bit. The cold night air burned through his clothes and the ocean, completely flat, made him uneasy. If icebergs were ahead… and they all knew, as they'd received so many warnings lately…
And yet. They weren't slowing down. At all.
"Did we ever find those binoculars for the lookouts?" asked Lightoller.
"Haven't seen them since Southampton."
Murdoch stood at the railing and Lightoller stood behind him. There was a brief moment of silence, then Lightoller said, as if uncomfortable:
"Well, I'll be on my rounds."
Murdoch sent Lightoller a look over his shoulder. They nodded at each other. Stiffly. With that, Lightoller left. Murdoch rested his hands against the railing. He looked out upon the open ocean. It was dark. So dark. Dark for miles. With no one else around.
He had a bad feeling about this.
"Gotcha!
Katara bit back a laugh as she watched. They were hiding behind one of the mountains of crates and boxes, not far from where they'd abandoned the Blue Spirit's and the Painted Lady's costumes. White beams of light searched through the cargo hold.
Katara pulled on her mother's necklace. She'd never gotten dressed so quickly in her life. Now she knew why Zuko had told her to get outta there. Right now. Two stewards had barged into the cargo hold and had opened the car door wide. She blushed at the thought of having been found there, butt naked on that car seat. She blushed even more at the thought of what they had been doing on that car seat. Katara had never thought she'd one day be sleeping with a boy in a car of all places, but with Zuko, it felt right.
Forbidden, sure. But right.
And it had hurt. At first. She couldn't say that it hadn't.
Katara had even told him so.
And Zuko had been… well, Zuko. Soft. Kind. Caring. At Katara's pained hiccup and a whispered "It hurts, it hurts so much…", Zuko had stopped. Immediately. Probably without even thinking about it. Zuko had sat up. He'd pulled her close, skin on skin, and had wrapped his arms tightly around her. Whispering "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" in her ear. Over and over and over again. He had until she had told him, until she had assured him, that she was going to be fine. That they could keep going. Only then had he breathed "Okay." in her hair and they had lied back down on the plush upholstery seat.
Only then had it really started. Only then had it really started to feel good.
More than good. Phenomenal.
Katara's hand curled around the smooth stone hanging from her neck.
She'd never thought she'd meet a guy - no, a man - as considerate as Zuko. Katara was used to Sokka's friends. And not all of them were… considerate about women. To say the least. Most made disparaging comments about their latest conquests. And they'd made those comments while Katara was in the room. Because she was just Sokka's little sister in their eyes. Not really there. A shadow.
But Zuko being Zuko, he wasn't like them.
He'd always treated her fairly. A partner, an equal. He looked at her as if he couldn't believe his luck. While Katara thought the same. When did she get so lucky?
They made quite the pair, didn't they?
Zuko's hand squeezed her shoulder. Katara looked up. He pressed a finger to his lips with one hand. The other pointed behind him with his thumb. Katara nodded. As silently as possible, they exited the cargo hold. Sticking close to the walls and staying as out of sight as they could from the men in the boiler room. They managed to find their way back to a ladder. Leading to the upper decks.
Katara ran away hand in hand with Zuko. Up an elevator and down a few hallways. She pushed a creaking metallic door open. As they emerged into blissfully cool ocean air, Katara couldn't stop herself. She laughed at the stars, spinning around wildly. Zuko burst out laughing, too. He followed her. Always just a step behind.
"Did you see those guys' faces?!" asked Katara. "Did you see them?!"
As he rubbed his hands together, Murdoch heard the creaking of a door.
He still stood there. At the railing. But this time, Murdoch leaned down. Just a little. Just enough to see two lovebirds run outside. They made… an odd pair. He had to admit. A boy who looked like he belonged to the First class world and a girl who… well, who didn't. And they looked… hm. Somewhat ruffled. Hair undone and clothes crumpled.
Oh.
"I saw them, I saw them!" laughed Zuko in that beautiful laugh of his.
They stopped near the crow's nest. When Katara looked into those golden eyes, joy bubbled up inside her. They stood there on the cold deck, looking at each other, breaths white coming out of their mouths. Zuko looked warm, though. He was always warm and that was probably one of the perks of being a firebender. Katara wistfully thought about mornings spent with him as he rose with the sun. She imagined golden light filtering through white curtains, a soft breeze blowing through the opened window. She imagined those mornings, snuggled up in bed, warm beyond measure. She imagined.
That was all fantasy, of course. Katara knew that. Surely tonight would end with him going back to his fiancée and his world once again.
Right?
As if he'd heard Katara's thoughts, Zuko brought her closer. He put a hand in her hair, at the nape of her neck, and spoke with only certainty:
"When this ship docks, I'm getting off with you."
Katara gaped at him.
"What?"
"When this ship docks, I'm getting off with you. I haven't thought this through, I know. But I don't care. I'm not going back. I'm sure we can find some room in your and Sokka's room. Or maybe Aang's. Or maybe even Jet's, I guess we're friends now. I'll keep my head bowed until then. And when we arrive in New York…"
"You want to run away with me? Are you serious?"
"Yes! I… I know it doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it. And… I… I want to live the rest of my life with you, Katara. If…"
Zuko hesitated. Lips trembling, gaze trailing off into the distance. Katara wanted to kiss the worry away. Yet she waited. Patient. He looked at her once more.
"If you don't want me like that, if it's just a one time thing, I… I get it. I understand. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm running away. I don't want to marry Mai. I don't love her. I… I'm scared of her." Zuko looked at her with so much desperation, so much truth, that she ached inside. "Katara, I know you're so… you're you, and I'm just me, but..."
Katara didn't let Zuko finish. She grabbed his coat collar and pulled him down to her. ***
The two lovebirds started kissing.
Chuckling, Murdoch looked away.
Katara kissed him again. She kissed him until he melted into her. She kissed him, biting at his lips with quick, hasty, urgent kisses. She kissed him until, when she pulled away, he looked at her dazed. The only sound that came out of Zuko's mouth was a hum. His swollen lips were pink and his eyes sparkled. He looked beautiful.
As always.
Katara cupped his scarred cheek with one hand. The way she had in the gymnasium and at the bow of the ship. Her thumb traced his scar. Zuko smiled again.
"All right, I didn't mind that. But what was that for?"
"I told you, Zuko Kai. I'm in love with you. Nothing's ever gonna change that."
He laughed.
"Understood."
"So we'll run away together," she said, talking like that time she had at the railing, when they'd said they'd go to Santa Monica. "You're going to meet my Dad and my Gran-Gran. And I want you to meet my stepdad, too."
Zuko frowned.
"Your stepdad?"
"Bato. I probably should have told you before, but well, I didn't. It's… unofficial, as far as Gran-Gran said. But yeah. Dad and him really love each other. And Bato is the sweetest man I've ever met. So I want you to meet him, too."
"All right. I'll meet Bato, too. I'll do anything. As long as I get to do it with you."
Zuko wrapped his arms around her. He spun her around. Like something out of a nickelodeon. They laughed again. They laughed at this future they were going to build together. Katara still couldn't believe her luck. To think that in the past few days, they had met, had fallen in love, yes, in love, and now they were thinking about running away and making a life together…
They were going fast. Sure.
But Katara didn't mind it in the slightest. Zuko was a whirlwind, a fire tornado. It felt only natural to go fast with him. To follow his pace.
Katara's feet touched the ground. They kissed again. And again… And again...
Then came that thought once more.
When did she get so lucky?
It was cold, so cold.
Fleet shivered in the crow's nest. He rubbed his hands together. It was so, so, so cold. Why had he decided to take this bloody job again? What different choices in life should he have made so tonight could have been spent in a warm, warm bed, possibly with a girlfriend or wife? It was cold, so bloody cold. That is, until he looked down.
Fleet grinned when his gaze landed on the two lovebirds, standing all alone on deck. Even from up here, he could clearly see them making out. Spinning in circles, hugging, kissing each other senseless. Fleet chuckled.
"Hey… look at that, would ya?"
Lee leaned over his shoulder. He whistled.
"They're a bloody sight warmer than we are."
Fleet, chuckling, pushed him away with his elbow.
"Well, if that's what it takes for us two to get warm, I'd rather not, if it's all the same!"
They shared a laugh. Fleet looked from Lee to the open water. That was when Fleet's eyes landed on… something, far into the horizon. Fleet's face fell and blood left his face. Five hundred yards out, probably not much more, stood a massive wall of ice.
He saw it first.
"Bugger me!"
Fleet shoved Lee aside and grabbed the lookout bell pull. He rang. Three times. Ding! Ding! Ding! resonated far into the empty night air. Then, Fleet grabbed the telephone. He called. The telephone rang. And rang. And rang.
"Pick up, ya bastard!"
Finally, far too late than he'd hoped, someone picked up the telephone.
"Is someone there?"
"Yes," answered an officer's voice. "What do you see?"
"Iceberg, right ahead!"
"Thank you." He hung up.
A part of Fleet was shocked they were facing an iceberg. Another part of him, though, told him they should have expected it.
They should have expected it. Way sooner.
Murdoch's face fell. He was the second one who saw it.
A cold fear settled in his stomach. Murdoch pushed himself off the railing, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He rushed to the opened door leading to the helm. One of the sailors was on his way out and they wrestled in the doorway for a too-long second. Murdoch screamed, over the sailor's shoulder:
"Iceberg, right ahead!"
The sailor's face fell, too. He spun around, towards the helm.
"Hard a' starboard!" they yelled together. "Hard a' starboard!"
Quartermaster Robert Hitchens started pulling hard on the helm. Rushing away, Murdoch pushed aside another sailor. The man's teacup emptied itself, tea spilling everywhere. Murdoch ran to the engine room telegraph. He signalled FULL SPEED ASTERN. He hoped he'd been fast enough. He hoped they'd been fast enough.
He couldn't bear thinking what would happen if they weren't fast enough.
"Hard a' starboard," yelled Murdoch over his shoulder.
"The helm is hard over, sir," answered Hitchins.
He hoped they'd been fast enough.
Please, please, please…
Fleet braced himself, gripping the crow's nest railing with both hands. Lee muttered something he didn't quite catch. His eyes were focussed on the iceberg as he counted the seconds. Too long. Too long. What were they doing down there?!
"Why aren't they turning?!" asked Lee.
Then, they started to turn. Slowly.
So slowly.
"Come on, come on, come on…"
Anxiety clawed at Fleet's belly. Turn, turn, turn, bloody ship!
Too late. They were too late.
The ship hit the iceberg. KRUUUNCH! Fleet wanted to cover his ears at that sound. But all he could do was listen. And watch. And feel. The whole ship shook, creaking and groaning, and down there, though he didn't see it, the two lovers were pulled apart. Fleet's hands shook on the railing. No. The railing was shaking.
They had hit an iceberg.
They had hit an iceberg, they had hit an iceberg, they had hit an iceberg.
He really hoped this ship was as unsinkable as everyone thought.
Toph woke up when the whole ship shook.
Iroh's teacup shook in his hands. He looked up. The chandelier shook overhead.
"Get back!" shouted Katara.
She grabbed his arm and pulled Zuko away. A thick wall of ice had appeared off the side of the ship. Huge chunks of ice, one the size of his head, dropped down where they had been standing a second ago. Katara took in a deep breath. What was happening?
Had they hit an iceberg?
Her jaw dropped. They had. They'd hit an iceberg. Zuko's face mirrored her own. Eyes wide. Mouth hanging open. They stared as the iceberg disappeared out of sight, travelling lightning fast down the length of the ship.
"Well, I'm right at home, now," tried to joke Katara.
She lifted a hand. One of the chunks of ice floated up to her. It twirled over her palm.
"See? Waterbending comes in handy in these parts."
Katara knew Zuko could see it in her eyes. Could hear it in her voice. She was trying to joke, but nothing was funny about this. There was something wrong.
They knew it.
"Yeah. Sure."
They should have turned way before hitting the iceberg.
"That was close," said Fleet.
Even to his own ears, it didn't sound enough. He watched as the wall of ice travelled the length of the ship. Barely grazing them. Surely it had only grazed them. Right?
"You can smell the ice, huh?"
Lee grabbed Fleet by his collar. He sent him one furious glare.
"Bloody bastard!"
This couldn't be happening. This simply couldn't be happening.
Murdoch stood by the helm with his back straight. Now wasn't the time for shock. Now was the time to keep to protocol. Now was the time to think.
"Note the time," he told James Paul Moody stiffly. "Enter it in the log."
Captain Smith rushed in. He wasn't wearing either his coat or his hat. He must have been awoken by the shaking ship. Perhaps. Murdoch could almost still feel it, that tremor, and he could almost still hear that sound… embedded in his brain.
"What was that, Mr. Murdoch?" asked Captain Smith.
"An iceberg, sir. I put her hard a' starboard and ran the engines full astern, but it was too close. I tried to port around it, but she hit... and I…"
"Close the emergency doors."
"The doors are closed, sir."
Murdoch followed after the Captain outside. Smith walked to the side of the ship, looking out into the darkness aft. He called out:
"Full stop!"
Someone answered: "Aye, Captain!"
Murdoch and Captain Smith moved to stand at the railing. Murdoch felt sickened.
They'd hit an iceberg. They'd hit it.
"Find the Carpenter and get him to sound the ship."
"Yes, sir!"
Murdoch rushed away. Following orders.
"What?"
Toph disentangled herself from Aang. They hadn't been doing anything, not really, but it had felt good to be there with him. He'd allowed her to touch his face, to feel his bald head, his rough tattoos. To feel his skin against hers. They'd gone down to his room after he promised he wouldn't pull anything. Not that he would have been able to. Toph could've lifted Twinkle Toes over her head so easily, it was kind of hilarious.
She had a passing thought to the kind old man with the teacup in his hands who had been wandering the First Class deck that morning. She'd had a good conversation with Iroh. About duty, honour and breaking free. He'd convinced her to follow her heart.
That's what Toph had said to Aang. That he'd given her the push she'd needed.
But now… now she hoped the old man was all right. Because…
"Something's wrong," she said.
Toph jumped up. When she landed on the floor, her feet hit cold water, so cold.
Too cold.
Toph yelped. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt! She put one foot up, the other resting in the water. What was going on? What was happening? There was water in Aang's cabin!
Sea water.
"What's happening?" asked Aang. "Wait… where does that water come from?"
"I don't know. But it's bad."
Appa groaned and Momo chatted, on the bed. Toph ignored the both of them. She put a hand against the cool metal walls and tried to feel her way through the ship. She couldn't see as far as she wanted, but there was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong. Something was so, so wrong.
Toph opened the stateroom's door. People were standing in their own doorways, probably wondering what in the Spirits' names was going on. She thought she heard Snoozles down the hall, swearing loudly. Jet arrived then, feet splashing up and down to keep out of the cold water.
"Pack as much as you can," he told her. "We have to get out of here."
Toph didn't have anything. She hadn't really expected to stay the day with Sokka, Suki, Jet and Aang, never mind spend the night there. But Aang still handed her her jacket and he started to pack whatever he could. He didn't have much. Aang was used to nomadic life, so he preferred to travel light. He had to coax Appa and Momo to step in the cold, so cold water, but finally, they left the cabin. They started after Jet down the hallway and soon found Sokka, looking groggy from sleep, but still awake from the cold, cold water.
Had Toph said the water was cold?
Toph frowned. Was she imagining things? No. Her earthbending never lied. She felt a dozen little feet scuttling away. Squeaking. Jet said, confirming her thoughts:
"If the rats are going there, it's good enough for me."
Toph followed after them, and after the rats.
Something was wrong.
Iroh put his teacup down. He hadn't been able to sleep, not when he didn't know if Zuko was all right. Well. He was certain he was in, ahem, good hands with Miss Katara, but he knew Azula would never stop searching. That's why he was awake when the ship shook.
Iroh rose to his feet. The room stopped shaking, but he could still feel its effects. Dread settled in his bones. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Iroh put on his slippers, grabbed his night robe and opened his door wide. Men in suits and women in fine dresses had appeared at their doors. Sharing the same looks of concern.
One woman walked over to a steward. She asked:
"Excuse me. Why have the engines stopped? I felt a shudder!"
"There's no cause for alarm. We've only lost a propeller blade. That was the shudder you felt. Please, go back to your rooms."
Iroh didn't think so.
When a familiar man holding rolled up blueprints marched briskly past him, Iroh called after him.
"Mr. Andrews!"
Mr. Andrews spun around.
"Mr. Kai, I'm sorry, but I really need to get going."
Uncle walked closer. He put a reassuring hand on Mr. Andrews' shoulder. The poor man looked… stressed. To say the least. Uncle knew that look. It was the look of a man about to face a battle he didn't know he could win. About to send soldiers out to die.
"I know. I was a General once, I know how it is when a man needs an advisor."
Mr. Andrews blinked. He looked around… then back at Iroh.
"I'm sorry?"
"If I could come with you, it would mean the world to this poor old man."
Mr. Andrew opened his mouth. He looked like he was about to say something dismissive, but instead, he nodded. They started away at a brisk pace down the halls. Iroh thought he heard Mai's voice calling out to an officious-sounding steward that she had been robbed, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He also may have heard Mrs. Beifong call out frantically to the same steward, saying that her daughter was nowhere to be found. But he couldn't be sure.
"Yes, the matter is urgent! I've been robbed!"
"My daughter! Have you seen my daughter? I'm afraid she's been kidnapped!"
Iroh followed Mr. Andrews until he was away and out of earshot.
"Hey! You missed the fun!"
"Did you see what happened?"
Zuko opened the gate leading to the First Class deck for Katara. A crowd was already gathering on the deck, looking at the chunks of ice the iceberg had left behind. A few passengers were even playing with the ice chunks, kicking them around. A shuffle of many feet was heard over the mumbling crowd. Zuko was mildly surprised to see the approaching Captain, his officers trailing behind him, as they talked in hushed voices. They were talking in nautical terms he couldn't understand, but they looked… troubled. Talking quickly, so quickly. The matter was urgent. Something terrible had happened.
That's when Zuko also noticed Mr. Andrews amongst that group and… and an old man he knew very well who was walking with them. Zuko frowned.
"Uncle?"
Uncle didn't seem to hear him. He followed after the Captain, the officers and Mr. Andrews, down the stairs to the lower decks.
"This is bad," said Katara.
Zuko nodded. Understatement of the century, perhaps, but still. If Uncle was this preoccupied, it must've been bad indeed. Zuko swallowed.
"We should tell them. Father, Azula and Mai."
"Are you sure?"
He loathed the idea of going back there, of standing in a room with them, but he didn't really have another choice. He couldn't let anything bad happen to them. He'd never forgive himself. Even after all they'd done… he couldn't leave them to die.
"Unfortunately, yes," answered Zuko honestly. "I'm sure. After that, we'll go and find Sokka, Aang and the others. To make sure they're okay."
"Of course. Lead the way."
As they stepped back into First Class territory, Zuko felt something tug on his arm. Or rather. Someone. He turned around. Katara had stopped. A step or so away. She was holding onto his sleeve, head bowed. Not quite looking at his eyes.
"Katara?"
"Zuko… wait."
He walked up to her, immediately fearing the worst.
"What is it? Is something wrong?"
The smile she offered him told him no. Nothing was wrong. Zuko felt some amount of relief at that. But still. What was the matter?
Katara's voice grew softer as she said:
"I… I wanted to say thank you."
"Thank… me?" He looked at her whole face, mouth slightly agape. "For what?"
"For not treating me like a plaything. For hearing me. For listening to me."
"You mean… about…?"
"Yes. About that. About… about sex. A lot of men wouldn't have been so… considerate of me. But you were. You treat me like a person. Thank you."
"Isn't that the bare minimum? You shouldn't be thanking me for that."
"I know. It should be. But it isn't. So what I'm trying to say is… it's appreciated."
Something settled in Zuko's chest. Fuzziness. Fondness. Devotion. A soft smile spread on his face. He pulled Katara close and kissed her. A peck on the lips. Then he pressed their foreheads together. Looking into her eyes. Deep into her eyes.
"I know what it feels like not to be heard. To be treated like an object you can throw away when you're done with it. I don't want you to feel like you can be spat out. Because I know what that feels like. Maybe not about… about sex per se, but about everything else. And you know… I'm with you in that as I'm with you in all things. So it applies."
Zuko stopped talking. His mouth hung open for a second. Did that…?
"Did that make any sense? I'm not sure I'm expressing myself correctly here."
It was Katara's turn to kiss him. Barely a touch of the lips. But Zuko never found Katara to be "just" or "barely". She was enough. She was everything.
Katara rested her forehead against his once more.
"Yes. Yes, it does. It makes perfect sense."
"Good." Zuko nodded. "That's good."
"Now you know I don't take this for granted."
"I don't either." Zuko pursed his lips. "And, um… Katara?"
"Yes?"
"I want to thank you, too. For hearing me. For listening to me. About… about the drawing. And… And of course, in, um… in the car."
"You're welcome. I'm with you in that as I'm with you in all things. Right?"
"Right."
They smiled at each other. Then, they clasped their hands together and walked away.
When they reached the hallway leading to Zuko's suite, hand in hand, Zuko almost ran away when he saw Azula leaning against the wall panelling. She smirked.
"We were looking for you, brother."
Katara squeezed his hand. Zuko nodded. He squared his shoulders, head held high. He wasn't going to let Azula get under his skin. They walked past her, down the hallway.
"You know… these are rather good."
"Give me that! I want this whole room photographed."
Eyes found Zuko and Katara as they stepped in the suite. Azula followed after them, closing the door. Zuko couldn't shake away this feeling that they were trapped. He saw Father tense as he gripped his wine glass. Father looked disheveled, as if he'd just been woken up. Because of the iceberg, perhaps? But no. Something else was going on. Katara's drawings were being eyed by… by the Master at Arms. Who was there. The same one who had put handcuffs around Katara's wrists that night at the back of the ship.
Zuko's eyes found Mai's. She stared him down. Standing up straight. Poised. And yet… she looked... angry.
Zuko didn't look away.
"Something serious has happened," said Zuko.
"That's right," agreed Mai. "Two things dear to me have disappeared this evening." She looked him up and down. "Now that one is back…" She sent a look over at Katara. "... I have a pretty good idea where to find the other."
"Search her," said Azula.
Katara dropped Zuko's hand. He looked at Katara, at Father, at Azula, at Mai. What was going on? What was happening?
"Now what?" asked Katara.
A steward walked over to Katara. He stopped a step or so away.
"Um… Miss… um…"
"Oh, for Spirits' sakes. Let me do it!"
Azula pushed the steward away. She yanked Katara's coat off. Under the Master at Arms's watchful eyes, she searched her. Zuko frowned.
"Mai, we're in the middle of an emergency. What's going on?"
"Oh, yes, we are in the middle of an emergency. You just don't know it yet."
"What? What does that even mean?"
"Is this it?"
Zuko froze. He felt his own stomach turn to ice. Azula was holding the Heart of the Ocean in his hand. It sparkled in the light. She'd… Azula had pulled it out of Katara's pocket. Out. Of. Her. Pocket. Zuko's mouth hung open. He felt his tongue heavy, turned to lead, in his mouth. He didn't know what to think. What was this? Another of Azula's lies? Azula always lied, but what about Mai? What about Father?
"Are you fucking…?!" said Katara. "No, no, no, no, no! I didn't do this, I didn't! You can't believe them, Zuko! You can't!"
Zuko blinked. Trying to make sense of this. None of this… None of this made sense!
"She couldn't have," he managed to say.
Voice raspier. Breaking.
"She couldn't. She… She didn't."
"She could have. She did."
Mai stood by his side. She sent him a sidelong glance. He wanted to throw up.
"Easy enough for a professional."
The Master at Arms walked behind Katara. He pulled at her wrists harshly. Trying to put the handcuffs back on her. Zuko knew from the look in her eyes… He could now tell she wasn't going to give up without a fight. She wasn't.
"Don't you dare touch me!"
As if on instinct, Katara waved her arms. Water rose up from a vase. It fell uselessly when the Master at Arms wrapped his arms around Katara. He pulled her up and her feet kicked the empty air. The water splashed all over the carpet. Cold. So cold.
"Calm down, Miss," said the Master at Arms. "I don't want to use too much force."
Father sniffed. He sipped his wine, haughty, then he spoke for the first time.
"I knew we couldn't trust her as soon as I heard she was a waterbender. Pathetic."
The Master at Arms quickly put the handcuffs on Katara's wrists. Click, click, click. A familiar sound by now. She looked at Zuko, pleading at him with those blue eyes. Zuko wanted to believe her. She couldn't have. She couldn't.
"I was with her the whole time. This is absurd! That doesn't make any sense."
Mai walked behind him. Circling him. She whispered smugly:
"She was probably doing it while you were putting your clothes back on, dear."
Katara's jaw dropped. She pulled on her handcuffs, walking forward until she was facing Zuko. Until she was right in his face.
"That little… she must have put it in my pocket! Or Azula did!"
Mai stood on Zuko's other side. Her jaw clenched, she said:
"Shut up!"
"This isn't your pocket, though, peasant," pointed out Azula. She looked at the tag on the jacket and put a cruel smile on her face. A smile Zuko knew well. The kind she'd used when they were children. Playing soldiers of war. "That was reported stolen today."
Zuko saw Katara swallow. His eyes widened. Was she… Was she admitting?
"Look, I was going to return it. I…"
"Oh, really?" Mai laughed. "An honest thief, we have an honest thief, here!"
Zuko couldn't… couldn't. He licked his lips and made his mouth talk.
"Katara?"
Katara's head spun on her neck. Staring at him. She looked mortified. Zuko blinked. Tears blurred his vision. All he could do was blink furiously.
She'd tricked him. She'd tricked him, she'd tricked him, she'd...
Closing his eyes tight, Zuko looked away.
She'd used him.
"No!"
The Master at Arms pulled on Katara's arms. Half-dragging her, half-carrying her. Out the door. Katara tugged on her handcuffs.
"Don't listen to them... I didn't do this! You know I didn't! Zuko! You know me!"
They took her away.
Iroh arrived in the chartroom. Men piled around him. Mr. Ismay in his nightclothes, Captain Smith and a few of his trusted officers. Mr. Andrews unrolled a blueprint of the ship's interior and spread it out on the table. Iroh tugged on his beard as he looked at the blueprint. No one questioned why he was here. Iroh looked like the man he had once been, a man who belonged in a war room.
"Water fourteen feet above the keel in ten minutes," said Mr. Andrews, his hand travelling down the blueprint, pointing at various parts of the ship's hull, "... in the forepeak... in all three holds... and in boiler room six."
"That's right, sir," said an officer.
"When can we get underway, do you think?"
Iroh wanted to laugh in Ismay's face. The man deserved it.
"That's five compartments," counted Mr. Andrews, voice getting louder. "She can stay afloat with the first four compartments breached. But not five. Not five. As she goes down by the head the water will spill over the tops of the bulkheads... at E Deck…" His hand travelled along the side of the ship, from compartment to compartment. Iroh felt ill. "... from one... to the next... back and back. There's no stopping it."
"The pumps…"
Mr. Andrews didn't let Captain Smith finish.
"The pumps buy you time... but minutes only. From this moment, no matter what we do, Titanic will founder."
Heavy silence followed that statement. Something from a nightmare.
"But this ship can't sink!"
"She is made of iron, sir," Mr. Andrews cut off Ismay. His voice became quiet once more. "I assure you, she can. And she will. It is a mathematical certainty."
Captain Smith looked like he'd been gutpunched. Iroh found a seat.
"How much time?" asked Smith.
"An hour. Two at most."
Iroh's hand flew to his mouth. He'd expected… He didn't exactly know what he'd expected. But he hadn't expected this. The ship… they were…
"And what is he doing here?" asked Ismay, sending Iroh a glance.
Iroh's eyes landed on Ismay. He rose to his feet. Back straight. Eyes furious.
The Dragon of the West was speaking.
"I thought I might give a passenger's perspective on this, Mr. Ismay. Everyone, as you do, believes this ship cannot sink. This whole publicity stunt was a foolish endeavour. And I also believe the passengers are the people we should be thinking about first. But we don't want to create a panic. If we cannot stop this… I'm afraid destiny isn't on our side."
Captain Smith nodded at Iroh. He looked… stunned. Still, he asked:
"And how many aboard, Mr. Murdoch?"
Officer Murdoch himself had turned pale. His voice was quiet when he said:
"Two thousand two hundred souls aboard, sir."
A moment of silence followed. Heavy with fear, with dread, with shattered dreams and with shock. A mixture of all these things appeared on the men's faces.
Captain Smith turned to Ismay.
"I believe you may get your headlines, Mr. Ismay."
Iroh settled down in his seat once more. He put a hand in his face. They were sinking. This entire ship was sinking. What to do, what to do?
Then, Iroh shot up to his feet.
Zuko. He had to find Zuko.
Zuko sunk in on himself. Silent weighed down on him. He was alone with Mai, now. Azula, Father and the steward had left them a moment ago. To get dressed or to go do whatever they had to do, as they had mentioned. Zuko didn't particularly care. His hands reached for his hair. Gripping it tight. Everything was crashing down around him. His dreams, his new life and love were turning to dust.
This couldn't be real. Not her.
No, no, no, not her.
Not Katara.
That was the only thought that was going through his mind. Everything else felt foggy at the edges. Unreal. No, no, no. Not Katara. Over and over and over again. Not Katara, not Katara, not Katara. She couldn't have. Not when they had planned to run away. Not when she'd been so kind and open and honest. With her moonlit smiles and beautiful laughter.
I'm with you in that as I'm with you in all things. Right?
Zuko dropped his hands. He couldn't believe it. This wasn't real.
It couldn't be real. Not her.
Not Katara.
Mai walked over to him. Her footsteps were quiet on the carpet.
"I knew I couldn't trust you. And I thought that peasant girl was the one eager to spread her legs. But no. You're the little slut around here, aren't you?"
Zuko didn't answer. He kept his eyes on the ground, like he'd been taught. He was in the wrong. He knew it. He'd made his choice, he'd gone to her. But he couldn't bear thinking about a life lived in misery. Not with Mai. Not without...
Mai opened her mouth. Closed it.
She slapped him.
Pain burst in his scarred cheek. Zuko's head spun on his neck. The air was knocked out of his lungs. Breathe, he had to breathe. He breathed in. He breathed out. His hand flew to his face as if on its own accord. Zuko blinked.
It hurt. It hurt so bad.
But what hurt more was the wound on his heart.
Zuko didn't look at Mai. His throat tightened and a rock settled in his stomach. He blinked away the pain. Tears flooded his eyes again.
This was it. This would be his life now.
Mai pulled a chair from its corner and dragged it to the middle of the room. She pointed at it. Tightly, she ordered:
"Sit down."
He did. He dropped in the chair. What else was he supposed to do?
Mai walked to stand in front of him. She didn't pace. She didn't fidget. She just stood there. Above him. Towering over him. Mai arched an eyebrow, hands clasped together. She was looking at him… She was looking at him with something like contempt.
"I always knew you were the family disappointment. But this?"
Zuko couldn't talk. Couldn't answer. Mai walked out of the room and returned with… a scroll. Zuko's heart drummed in his chest. The note he'd left her.
Oh. Right.
The look of pure disgust Mai gave him made his stomach churn. This time, Zuko looked up. Accepting responsibility. Her voice cut through the room's silence like a knife.
"All I get is a note?"
She unrolled the scroll and started to read.
"'Sweetpea, now you can keep us both locked in your safe. Zuko.' You could have at least looked me in the eye when you ripped out my heart."
Zuko found his voice again.
"You know why I did it. This isn't about you. This is about…"
"If you're going to say, 'this isn't about you, this is about me', save your breath. Do you know what you've made of me? The cuckolded woman? Really? How cliché."
"No. This is about my freedom."
Mai's eyebrows shot to her hairline. "Your freedom?"
"Yes! I don't want to be a pawn anymore. I want to be myself."
"She put those ideas in your head, didn't she? Pitiful."
Mai threw the scroll at his head. It spilled out on the floor. Dark ink stark against white paper. Mai threw it with a calm that never betrayed her composure. This wasn't the same kind of outburst as this morning. This anger was cool. Calm. Collected. A calculated anger. Zuko would have preferred a scene. Screaming. Yelling. He would have preferred anything but this raging calm. That set mouth, those furious glares.
That slap in the face.
"We tried to warn you," scoffed Mai. "We tried to warn you about this girl. We warned you that she was going to rob you, that she was only doing this to get money. You think she loved you? She sold you dreams, Zuko. But of course, you didn't listen. And now here we are. On the brink of this engagement imploding. Crumbling. Because of you."
Zuko closed his eyes, bowing his head. The flipped table and the knife appeared in his mind. Clear as day. There was a long, excruciatingly long moment of silence. It stretched between them, heavy on his chest. Zuko half-expected Mai to leave, to lock the door behind her. But she didn't. She stayed there, above him. Staring him down.
Then, Mai said:
"Actually, no."
Zuko didn't lift his head up. He didn't say anything.
"I'm not walking away from this engagement. Why should I? I don't have to. You're going to do the work. Forget this girl. Walk with poise and grace. Be the perfect fiancé. And once we're married? Do everything I ask of you. Understood?"
"Crystal clear."
Mai leaned down. Her hand grabbed his chin tight. Clawing at his skin.
"You look at me when I'm talking to you! Now. Do you understand?"
A knife's metal flashed into his mind. A memory. But a memory that could become his future very soon. She could… She could…
She could kill him. She could kill him right then and there.
And they'd probably make it look like an accident.
"I… I, um…!"
Zuko was so scared, his own body betrayed him. His pants felt… tight. All of a sudden. Mai looked down. Zuko's eyes widened. Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no...
"Oh. Are you excited to see me?"
Zuko shook his head. No. No, no, no, no, no…!
This wasn't excitement. This was fear.
"Hmph." Mai's mouth formed a thin line. She tsked. "But I bet that peasant girl hit the right spot. She gave you a thrill. Didn't she?"
Zuko was silent. He couldn't… He couldn't talk.
"Answer me!"
"Yes!" Zuko squeaked out his reply. "Yes. It felt different. With her."
"So you did sleep with her. Was it before or after that drawing?"
"I… Do I have to…?"
"Tell me. Now."
"After! It was after."
Zuko's breaths came out quick and broken. Terrified. Mai's gaze went down to the hand gripping his chin tight. Then she looked back up at his eyes. She huffed through her nose. Mai was silent for a long moment. Again.
Until she said:
"You broke the rules, I'm going to break them, too."
No. Zuko realized what she was about to do a second too late. Mai forced a kiss on his lips. She put all her weight against him, pushing him flush against the back of the chair. Zuko's scream never left his mouth. His body tensed. He didn't do anything. He couldn't do anything. Mai's lips were crushing. Controlling. Demeaning. When Mai forced her tongue in his mouth, Zuko felt himself gag with fear. His hands tried to grab something, anything, to push her off. But they only grasped thin air.
All he could do was wait and hope she would stop.
Please. Just stop!
When she pulled back, Mai looked him in the eyes. He'd kept them open the entire time. His eyes were wide open. Wide with fear. Her hand grabbed his chin again. She pulled him forward, an inch away from her face.
"Now. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he said, voice cracking. "I understand."
Mai pointed a razor sharp finger at his chest. Her nail dug into his skin.
"And don't ever, ever break up with me again."
There was a soft knock at the door. Mai dropped his chin. Zuko slumped back in his chair. Limp. His entire body was limp. But not in a good way. No, no, no, not in a good way. His heart drummed in his chest. Zuko willed air into his lungs. Deep breaths. In, out, in… His hand flew to his mouth. His cheek ached and he felt… he felt… he felt disgusted, he felt sick, he felt… he felt violated. Every inch of him felt violated.
There it was. That knock again. Mai rose up, clasping her hands together. She stared at the door. The steward from earlier walked in. Mai sneered.
"Get out. We're busy."
"Miss," the steward said with barely a moment of hesitation, "I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelt and come up to the boat deck."
Mai glared at him even harder. "I said not now."
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Miss Agni, but it is the Captain's orders." The man walked somewhere out of sight and returned with lifebelts. "Now please, dress warmly, it's quite cold tonight. May I suggest top coats and hats?"
Zuko was barely listening. He kept his hand on his mouth, frozen in place. He closed his eyes tight. No. Not now. He wasn't going to cry. Not now. Not…
"Not to worry, sir," said the steward. "I am sure it's just a precaution."
Zuko nodded. Right. Just a precaution.
Iroh followed after Mr. Andrews like a shadow. He wanted to find Zuko. But he also had a feeling he should stay with Mr. Andrews. For now. They'd find Zuko. Sooner or later.
The ocean air shocked Iroh as they stepped outside. Cold. To the bone. Everything was loud out here. From the chimneys roaring to the crewmembers preparing the lifeboats… but it was also impossibly quiet at the same time. The deck was empty except for the crewmembers. Incredibly empty.
"Mr. Wyatt, where are the passengers?" asked Mr. Andrews.
"They've all gone back inside. Too damn cold and noisy for them."
Mr. Wyatt put a whistle in his mouth. Pointing up, he called to a man overhead:
"You there…!"
Iroh didn't listen anymore. He looked at Mr. Andrews. The poor man looked paler by the second. He pulled out a silver watch from his pocket. Mr. Andrews looked at the time.
They were taking too much time. Iroh knew it.
Iroh took the lead, this time. He stepped inside the ship's nearest entrance, entering into some sort of parallel universe. Was this really happening? People were standing around, chatting amicably, while the ship… while the ship was sinking. Most of them were even wearing their lifebelts! So why weren't they concerned?
Maybe it was the band playing. Or maybe it was the stewards' professionalism.
Avoid a panic, avoid a panic…
"Would you care for a drink, sir?" asked a waiter, walking over with a silver platter full of glasses filled with champagne.
Iroh shook his head. He needed his mind clear.
They were going down with the ship. And he still needed to find Zuko.
Zuko was handed a coat and a lifebelt and, after he put them on, he found himself dragged along by Mai and Father. Azula was nowhere to be found. Hallway after hallway, he followed. Like a good son. The perfect son.
They reached the grand staircase, where he'd met Katara before dinner a night or so ago. He could almost picture her in her midnight blue dress saying hi to him while Toph had teased them. He'd heard Toph, but he'd ignored her because he had only eyes for her. Zuko kept his head bowed, hair a mess, stomach in a knot. He barely blinked.
"Hey, sonny," came Molly Brown's voice from not so far away. She sounded concerned. "You've got us all trussed up and now we're cooling our heels."
"Sorry, ma'am," said a young steward. "Let me go and find out."
He rushed away. Zuko focussed on his breathing. Breathe. Breathe.
"It's the Spirits damned English doing everything by the book."
Mai avoided a man who almost ran into her. Music filtered in from somewhere. The band was still playing for the passengers. There were many people standing around, chatting, whispering. Most were wearing their lifebelts. Zuko spotted Mrs. Beifong in a corner, looking around. Looking for Toph, maybe. Zuko barely saw her.
"There's no need for language, Miss Agni," said Father. To their maid who was walking behind them, he added: "Go back and turn the heater on in my room, so it won't be too cold when we get back."
As an afterthought, he said, voice almost mocking:
"I mean, I could do it myself. But why would I?"
The maid curtsied and left. Then someone cut in through Zuko's foggy thoughts. A familiar voice. An alarmed voice. But a familiar one nonetheless.
"Zuko!"
He turned around. Zuko wanted to cry all over again.
"Uncle."
"Zuko, I need to talk to… Zuko? Are you all right?"
Uncle stared at him. There was nothing but concern written all over his old face. One of Uncle's hands hovered near Zuko's cheek. Zuko flinched.
Iroh's eyes flashed.
"Who did this to you? Who hurt you? Where's Katara?"
"I… Uncle. She's…"
"So you knew he was with that girl, Iroh?"
Mai's voice came from behind Zuko. Honeyed. Mocking. Uncle Iroh turned to Mai. Zuko kept his head bowed. He closed his eyes tight.
"You knew and you didn't tell us. How… typical." Mai's voice was monotone, but he could hear an edge in it. She was probably looking at her nails. "As it so happens, Katara La is now under lock and key. Where she belongs."
"I'm sorry?"
"She tried to steal the Heart of the Ocean."
"What?!"
"Azula found it in her pocket," whispered Zuko. "I… I showed it to her, I… I…"
"She played him," said Mai simply.
Zuko's eyes snapped open.
"She played him like a fiddle." Mai's sneer burned holes in his back. "Who knew Zuko would be so quick to take his clothes off?"
"That's enough, Mai," growled Uncle. He looked incredibly gentle when he turned to Zuko. "They told you she tried to steal it." His hands, kind yet firm, wrapped around Zuko's shoulders. Not roughly. But kindly. "Zuko, what do you believe?"
"I… What do I believe…?"
Zuko didn't have the time to ponder that question. He didn't have the time to go down that slippery slope. To allow himself… To allow himself to hope. He didn't have the time. A familiar man appeared behind Uncle Iroh. Mr. Andrews, looking dismayed. Zuko decided he had to avoid Uncle's question. He couldn't face what it meant. He couldn't. Not now. Not when it was so fresh, not when there was so much pressure.
He couldn't.
Instead of answering, he walked over to Mr. Andrews as the man was climbing the staircase. Zuko grabbed his wrist. Mr. Andrews turned around. He looked… numb. Not quite numb. There was still that care in his eyes, that kindness. But he looked… distraught.
Zuko had to know.
"I saw the iceberg, Mr. Andrews. And I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth."
Uncle and Mr. Andrews shared a glance. Mr. Andrews looked like he wanted to argue. But he didn't. Instead, he walked down the staircase and whispered:
"The ship will sink."
Zuko's eyes widened.
"You're certain?"
Uncle nodded. "Yes. In an hour or so, all this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic."
"What?" asked Mai.
Zuko barely heard her. His hand found its way to his mouth.
Spirits...
"Please tell only who you must," continued Mr. Andrews. "I don't want to be responsible for a panic. And get to a boat quickly. Don't wait." His eyes were grave when he said: "You remember what I told you about the boats, Zuko?"
Zuko's eyes widened even more. Of course he remembered. He nodded.
"Yes, I understand. Thank you."
Zuko watched as Mr. Andrews walked away.