The sun rises with a halo of glowing gold. Warm light slips in through the slats in the shutters; Katara feels its warmth caress her toes and sighs. It's early— Zuko still lies beside her, his face relaxed in sleep, his body curled and angled towards her. Speckle is a warm mass between their stomachs, sleeping with his nose tucked under a paw and pressed into Zuko's belly.
This is her family.
Zuko's face is soft under her fingertips. She traces the outline of his scar, feels where the skin warps at the seam. She runs her finger over the smooth skin of his brow bone, pushes the hair off his face and behind his ear. He's let it grow in the past year, enough so that the silky black strands reach down to brush his collar. She catches him looking at himself in the mirror sometimes— she knows who he sees staring back at him. On those days she always makes sure to comb it with extra care, to braid it and put little flowers in the folds just to see him smile.
Balmy sunlight crawls up her legs, and eventually Zuko stirs next to her. Dark lashes flutter against his cheekbones before lifting to reveal the glowing eyes she's grown to love— each morning she watches a private sunrise all her own.
"Good morning." His voice is rough with sleep and rumbles low through his chest. Speckle's eyes blink open with the disturbance, and his little jaw stretches open in a yawn.
"Good morning, beautiful." Zuko smiles and turns his face into his pillow to hide the blush blooming on his cheeks, roses beneath his skin. "Today's the day."
"It is, isn't it?" He shifts towards her, uncaring of the cat as he jumps out of the way and hops off the bed. The long line of Zuko's body presses up against hers. "How do you think we should start it?" His lips ghost against hers, the words hot against her skin, and when he leans in to kiss her, she knows exactly how he wants to start the day.
"Hm…" she hums as Zuko moves to kiss the sensitive skin below her ear. "I can think of a few ways that would be nice…"
A warm hand trails down her side, and a shudder ripples through her.
"Yeah?" Heat drips down her body from where Zuko's lips move against her throat, following the trail of his palm and gathering in a rapidly tightening knot somewhere low in her gut. "Why don't you tell me?"
Xx
After a decidedly fantastic morning in bed, Katara goes about her morning chores as Zuko feeds the animals. A squirming giddiness has taken up residency in her stomach, a perpetual smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, increasing in strength with each minute that passes by. She lays out the clothes they had picked out— nothing fancy, but they're the nicest clothes either of them have. Katara had sewed the dress in secret, wanting it to be a surprise the first time Zuko saw it. Gran Gran had gotten her the azure silk as a treat for her last birthday, and immediately upon looking at it Katara had envisioned her dress. The simple skirt stretches down to kiss the floor, the fabric ruched just a bit at the waist to create some dimension. The bodice tightens to hug against her skin, the neck dipping in a vee that just touches her solar plexus. Short, gauzy sleeves sit in two layers, giving the dress the air of a clear spring sky. It's perfect.
The hours pass, the sun dragging through the sky in a lazy arc, reaching its zenith after what seems like a lifetime. Excitement crackles in the air like lightning, jumps between their eyes while she prepares their lunch and Zuko packs their bag. He wraps his arms around her waist from behind, pressing his lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and pulls her back gently to his chest.
"Zuko," she giggles, and feels his smile against her skin. "If you keep distracting me we'll never leave the house."
"I know…" He doesn't let go. "I just really like you."
"Do you now?" She turns in his embrace, forgetting about the food on the counter and focusing her attention on Zuko's shining eyes. "I wasn't aware of that."
"Oh, do I not tell you often enough?" he teases, feigning concern, and Katara can't help but laugh. "Let me remedy that…" He captures her lips in a soft kiss— it matches the day hanging just outside their window; sunny, warm, inviting.
"Seriously, though, we should get going." She pulls back, reluctant to leave his embrace, but forcing herself to disengage. "Go get changed."
"Fine, fine." He retreats with a parting wink.
It still feels so unreal, the easy domesticity they have, the all-encompassing love that flows through their small home, beating like a pulse with each inhale and exhale. This was never the life she expected to have— two years ago she would have been begrudgingly content with existing just as she always had; lonely, just going through the motions without actually feeling anything. I can't believe it's been two years. She still remembers the first time she ever saw Zuko. How their eyes caught like a tangled knot in the market square, the gravity that inexplicably pulled her to him even as she ran. Katara had never believed in fate before Zuko showed up in her little village that day, but she isn't so sure now. It feels like he's always been meant to be by her side— her loveseat feels a little less big, her kitchen a little less empty.
"What do you think?"
She has to shake her head to clear her thoughts, but when she sees Zuko in his fine clothes her mind has no trouble clearing itself. It's nothing incredible— just a finely tailored burgundy shirt and a nicer pair of pants than his usual wear. But something about seeing him so polished, with the top half of his hair neatly pulled back and tied with one of her blue ribbons, makes her feel almost lightheaded.
"I think you're beautiful." She loves seeing his blush when she compliments him. It warms her heart almost as much as it warms his face. "And that I'm incredibly lucky to have you."
"I think I'm the lucky one." He crosses the kitchen and takes her face in his warm hands before kissing her again. "Now it's your turn. I want to see this dress you've been hiding from me."
In her room, she pulls the dress on and flattens any wrinkles out by running her hands down the bodice. She lets her hair down (she knows that Zuko loves it that way) and brushes out her curls into soft waves. The pin her grandmother had given her sits propped up on the vanity, a single violet and a sprig of lavender fashioned to it, and Katara uses it to hold back the two small braids that frame her face. She takes a deep breath, and steps back out into the kitchen.
"Well, how do i look?"
Zuko's eyes trace her figure from head to toe and back up again. She flushes under his gaze, the weight of it is almost palpable. His jaw is dropped, pink lips making a small "o" around his silent admiration. The sunlight coming in from the window sparkles against the tear in his eye.
"Katara…"
She goes to him, biting her lip and trying not to smile too wide lest she get wrinkles. Zuko runs his fingers through her hair, traces her cheekbones with his thumbs, trails his hands down her arms. He touches her like she's delicate, like he's holding a star in his hands and if he squeezes too tight it might shatter and fall. Undiluted awe stains his cheeks rosy, brightens his eyes even more so than usual. She feels precious in his grasp.
"You're so beautiful… I don't even know what to say." He huffs a laugh in disbelief, and guides her chin up to meet his lips with hers. "I love you so much," he mumbles against her lips, and she smiles so wide her cheeks hurt. Damn the wrinkles.
"I love you too. Now let's get going!"
They walk hand in hand out of the house and into the sweet-smelling spring breeze. Speckle follows them, weaving between their legs and jumping to paw at the little bugs that fly by occasionally. They walk through the field behind the farm, disregarding the road and instead treading their own beaten path towards their destination. Katara had found this spot last summer, and it had soon become her and Zuko's favorite place to be.
A small pond sits nestled in a circle of trees. Lily pads perch delicately on the still surface of the water. Koi swim in circles through tangled lotus blossoms that have yet to breach the surface. The grass around the pond is tall and dusted with little purple and white blossoms, growing alongside bright dandelions. Speckle heads immediately to the water, and proceeds to sit on his favorite rock to act as sentinel and watch the fish. Katara shakes out the blanket and lays it on the grass before taking Zuko's hand and guiding him down to sit with her.
Their meal sits unopened in the basket they had brought along while they indulge in each other. The sunlight cards through the longer strands of Zuko's hair, shines on his skin and mimics the glow of his eyes. She tastes the day on his lips, crisp spring air blowing over soft daisies, young grass and clear water. His hand hovers over her middle, just below her breasts. It often finds its way there, and always does when they lie down to sleep. She still marvels at the smooth, unscarred skin, the absence of evidence of when she died save for the pain she sees in Zuko's eyes when he touches her there. Some nights he holds her so tight she thinks she might burst, desperate to keep her here, in this world, by his side. Other nights he lays her out and worships her, whispers love and lust in her ear so low that it vibrates in her bones. Often they'll curl into each other in front of the hearth, and he breathes her in like she's the freshest air he's ever tasted. It feels strange, almost, being treasured and loved in such a way. Even now, as they gaze into each other's eyes, she feels like she's the lucky one rather than him.
The sun drips towards the horizon, and just when the golden hour strikes, Zuko takes her hand and guides her to her feet. She presses herself to his chest, her ear to his heart, and listens to the life that rushes through his veins. He strokes her hair and lays a kiss on her head. In her ear he breathes promises of forever, of a life they'll live together, of children and old age and grandchildren. The future is a sweet symphony, conducted by the stars and performed by their hands. She promises herself to him, vows to give him everything she is— as if she hasn't already placed her heart in his chest and let her soul entwine with his. He pulls out a necklace: a bone pendant carved with the image of a tree held on a thick purple ribbon. It sits in the hollow of her throat, the size and shape made just so. It feels like it's always meant to be there.
They hold each other as the light recedes with the setting sun. Fireflies spark to life all around them and reflect off the water, constellations of their own coalescing in the heavenly body of the pond. Katara hums the song her mother had always sung to her when she was young, and the two of them sway in the night, witness only to the moon and stars. And the cat, of course, who purrs as he weaves between their legs without a care in the world.
"Katara..." Her name is a hymn sung to the choir of the night. "I'm so in love with you… you make every part of me brighter."
"Thank you, Zuko." Her lips ghost against his neck. The warmth that bleeds from his skin into hers is soothing, lulling her into a soft contentedness.
"For what?" She feels his breath puff out against her hair.
"For everything." She pulls back to look into his eyes— the glow is stark against the dark backdrop of night, and she's struck anew with a love she never thought she'd have. "For showing up here two years ago. For taking me with you, for showing me the world. For being here."
Zuko kisses her forehead, her brow, her nose, and just before he takes her lips in his, he whispers, "I think I'm the one who should be thanking you."