Katara talks Zuko back from the proverbial ledge.

DAY 12: LIVING PROOF

"Talk to me."

Zuko inclines his head to meet her eyes, his skin alabaster in the moonlight streaming in from their balcony. "Hmm?"

Katara huffs, placing the scroll she had been half-reading on the bedside table before settling back against his side under the silken sheets. "You've been staring at the ceiling with that broody look for the last ten minutes."

"It's nothing," he mumbles, shimmying down to press a kiss to her shoulder.

"Zuko." She props herself on her elbow. "It's not nothing. Please tell me what's bothering you."

He gives her a sidelong glance, then sighs, snuffing out the sconce on the wall with a flick of his fingers. Katara waits for him to speak, but he is silent for a long time after that. So long, that she is fairly certain he wants her to think he fell asleep.

"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that pro-Ozai rally down by the harbor today, would it?" she prods.

And by the way he sinks just a bit further into his pillow, she knows she has him.

His voice is barely above a whisper. "What if it's too late?"

Katara shifts closer, laying her head to rest against his stomach and peeking up at him through her lashes, silently prompting him to elaborate.

He's back to scrutinizing the ceiling. "What if my people have been poisoned by hatred for too long? There can't be a path forward if that isn't the will of the people. What if the Fire Nation can't be redeemed?"

"Oh, Zuko." She feels around in the dark until she finds his hand, lacing their fingers. "I know how frustrating this has been for you, and I hate seeing you feel this way. But that just isn't true."

Her head rises with his intake of breath and falls with the shaky sigh that follows it. "I want to agree with you, but there just hasn't been enough progress. If anything, it's only getting worse. Since when is globalism such a dirty word?"

"Hmm. Since always. I see your point." Katara tilts her head, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his navel. "But you seem to be forgetting one thing."

His eyes glint when they flick down to her. "What's that?"

Her free hand feathers across his skin, her lips and tongue following in its wake. "You," she whispers between kisses, "are living proof," trails her lips up his stomach, "that people can change." Her mouth finds the burst of scar tissue on his chest, ridged and sparking with the truth of her words. "These things just take time."

As she moves further up his body, his muscles relax under her touch. "Ozai is your father, and you still did the right thing in the end." His Adam's apple bobs against her lips. "The people will come around. So long as you give them a chance."

Zuko's fingers slide under her chin, tilting it up until she is looking into honey eyes. "When did you get so wise?"

"You say that like this is the first time I've had to talk you out of your own head." She quirks a brow, daring him to challenge her.

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her softly. "Thank you, Katara."