28 - No War AU

Zuko surveyed the room listlessly. Earth Kingdom gentry hobnobbed with Fire Nation nobility, and Water Tribe warrior elites mixed in with the whole bunch. Some Airbenders were also present. The monks of the Southern Temple were especially fond of a good party, Zuko understood. Even Avatar Aang, going on a hundred and fifteen or something, was having a fine old time with King Bumi and Uncle Iroh over by the rice wine.

Honestly, Zuko didn't see what the big deal was. Azula was turning sixteen, woo-hoo. But noooo, the niece of the Fire Lord was coming of age: there had to be a party. Just like there was a party when Zuko himself turned sixteen, and when Lu Ten got married to Lady Ty Ko ten years ago, and when their first son Kuzon turned nine three months ago (there were five sons now, and she was pregnant again—Princess Ty Ko was almost out-doing her mother, only with boys instead of girls). Everything was an excuse for a party as far as Uncle Iroh was concerned.

"Zuko, I've found you, excellent," said a voice behind him, and he turned to see his mother at his shoulder, beaming from ear to ear. That look meant trouble.

"Hello, Mom," he said resignedly, kissing her cheek. "What's excellent?"

"Nothing, dear, nothing, I just have a surprise for you," she said cheerily, looping her arm through his and half-leading, half-dragging him through the crowds.

"This is the sort of surprise that means I have to pretend to like some daughter of one of your friends for the evening, isn't it?"

"Dear, I really wish you would at least give these girls a chance. Some of them are really quite nice. " That was a 'yes', then. "Oh, actually, I just saw them come in, you stay right here." Ursa hurried off into the crowd, leaving Zuko near the punch fountain. He heaved a sigh and turned to grab a cup off the table. He wondered who his mother had in store this time. Last time it had been the daughter of one of her school friends, three years older than him and six inches taller. The time before that was the daughter of the Minister of Trade from Ba Sing Se, and she was nearly too shy to speak to him. Whoever she was this time, he wasn't interested. He pondered how best to put her off as he sipped the punch. His mother had been playing matchmaker for him ever since he turned 16 two years ago, and he'd made sure she had no success. Most of her selections were simpering members of the Earth Kingdom gentry or Fire Nation nobility looking to marry into royalty. He'd been pleasant to all of them, as was expected of the Fire Lord's nephew, but only pleasant. Never interested. He did it to please his mother. He thought he'd probably wind up marrying some friend of Azula's, ans didn't find the prospect terribly exciting.

He sighed as he heard his mother calling to him through the crowd. "Zuko! Zuko!"

He put the punch cup down.

'Well,' he thought.

"Zuko, dear—"

He felt his mother's hand on his arm.

'here goes…'

"I want you to meet—"

He turned around.

'…nothing.'

"Katara."

'Oh.'

She was breathtaking. And what was more, he recognized her. She and her family had been at Lu Ten's wedding. She'd been a pudgy crybaby as far as he recalled. But ten years had transformed her from a pudgy crybaby of seven to a stunning young woman of seventeen. Her hair was long and slightly curly, her eyes nearly glowed blue, and her figure… wow. All of her was just… wow.

Ursa sounded unnecessarily smug, Zuko thought, as she continued: "She's Chief Hakoda's daughter, of the Southern Water Tribe. And this is Kya, her mother. You remember them, don't you?" Zuko barely glanced at the older woman, though he saw enough to understand where the daughter got her looks. Ursa turned to Katara. "Dear, this is my son Zuko, nephew of Fire Lord Iroh." She glanced at him sharply.

"A pleasure," he managed.

Ursa was beaming again as she pulled Kya aside. "Now dear, please, tell me when Sokka and darling Yue are getting married…?"

Zuko was left alone. With Katara. Who was very pretty. And looking at him.

He automatically turned stiff and awkward. He was not a gifted socialite, to put it kindly, and this girl was a whole lot more attractive than anyone he'd had foisted upon him till that point.

"Um…" he rasped. "Enjoying the… party?"

"Sure," she replied, smiling. "If secretly wanting to kill myself from boredom and giving our mothers time to talk weddings counts as a good time, then definitely, yes. Why are we even here again?"

Zuko nearly choked on his own tongue. All the girls he'd talked to had just giggled in response to his uncomfortable questions and said something like "Yeah, totally!" (With the exception of Mai, who had just said "No." which was a different, but equally effective way to kill a conversation.) "Uh… my sister's…. birthday, her sixteenth."

She rolled her eyes. "I know, I know. I just don't really get the point of all these fancy parties, you know? I mean, I guess it's important for us future rulers to get to know each other so we don't start a giant war someday, but still…"

Zuko was growing more and more enamored with this girl with each word she spoke: she was pretty AND intelligent AND skeptical of big nonsense parties.

"Would you, uh, like to dance?" he asked awkwardly as the band started playing at the other end of the hall.

She smiled, and he struggled not to blush. "Love to," she replied.

The dance was a fast one, the couples merry and young on the floor. Zuko was a good dancer, but Katara was his equal if not his better, and soon they were whirling across the floor, their feet chasing each other through the complicated steps, never quite catching each other as they grinned impishly into each other's faces. They were both laughing and euphoric as the dance ended, and Zuko had lost all of his previous awkwardness as he led her to the side of the hall.

"You're an amazing dancer," he complimented recklessly, still staring into her eyes, which were an incredible shade of blue: the blue of the sky and the sea and of perfect, sparkling joy.

She grinned up at him, just as breathless, just as excited. "Thanks. You are too. Are you a bender?"

"Yeah," he said, surprised. "How could you tell?"

"It's in your movements," she explained, pulling her arm from his to demonstrate some vague Firebending gestures. "It's always easy to tell. You dance like a Firebender, I dance like a Waterbender. My brother dances like a penguin." She pointed across the crowds to a young man in Water Tribe blue dancing with a young woman with shining white hair he knew to be Princess Yue. The young man was indeed dancing like a penguin, saved only by the grace of his companion.

"You're a Waterbender?" he asked, hoping to learn more about her.

"Yep." She pointed a thumb at the yellow circle embroidered on her dress' bodice. "This represents the Moon. Legend says the Ocean Spirit Tui gave us life, and the Moon Spirit La gave us bending. Waterbenders and healers wear her symbol out of respect. Does the Fire Nation do anything like that?"

"Uh… not for benders specifically, I don't think," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck and wishing he'd paid more attention in his lessons. "Lemme see, Lu Ten's over there… Oh, Uncle's closer. Look at his hair piece. Golden flames to represent that the royal line is touched by the fire of Agni, see?" He had taken her by the shoulder and was pointing over to their left, helping her eye find the jolly Fire Lord. He knew he was being pretty forward, but something about her just… excited him.

"Hm," she said in response to his explanation. "I think I like our way better, where you don't have to be a royal to have a special connection with the Spirits."

Zuko shrugged. "Maybe so, but tradition's tradition. It's a symbol."

She nodded. "Sure, I know. I'm not trying to start anything. So… are you good?"

"At what? Tradition?"

"No: bending!"

He blinked at her mischievous expression. "Moderately, yes." That was a bit of an understatement: he was a very good Firebender, but he didn't want to brag. "Why?"

"Well, if there's a good enough source of water anywhere near this place, we could spar."

Zuko felt his eyes light up. His expectations for the evening, already high after meeting Katara, now skyrocketed.

"There's a practice platform in the north courtyard. It's where we train new guards, so there's plenty of water to put out fires they set by accident."

She grinned. "Lead the way."

He grasped her hand and led her to the side of the hall. A surreptitious glance confirmed that no one was looking at them—Azula was dancing with some Earth Kingdom gentleman, grabbing all the attention as usual—and he pulled Katara behind the long red curtain that lined the walls.

"You're awfully good at sneaking around, Prince Zuko," Katara commented softly, and he heard the smile in her voice. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were well-practiced in stealing girls away like this."

"What makes you think I'm not?" he whispered back, amazed at his own boldness.

Katara snorted a laugh behind him but made no other response.

It was a ten minute walk to the north courtyard once they got out of the area of the ballroom. He let go of her hand only reluctantly once they reached wider hallways, but they had great fun dashing along only to screech to a halt at corners and peek around with exaggerated anxiety to see if any guards or servants were around. He knew they were seen, but he was the Fire Lord's nephew and no one stopped them.

Night had fallen outside, and the first thing he did as he crossed the threshold was to look up at the stars. The sky was a vast spangle of tiny brilliant pin-pricks, crowding around the sliver moon and bunched along the Dragon's Path.

"Wow…" Katara breathed, looking up as well. "The stars look so different in this part of the world. I never got to see them before."

"The Sages tell us that the stars are the souls of every Fire Lord who has ever lived. When they die we cremate their bodies, and their inner flame travels up to the sky on the smoke to guide those who come after. That one over there?" He pointed to a large red star on the horizon. "That's Fire Lord Ozhu, the very first one."

Katara snorted. "No way: for one thing, there's no way there have even been that many Fire Lords."

"What else would they be?" he asked, a little annoyed.

"It's everyone," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Every good person who has ever lived is up there. You Fire Nation people are really fixated on royalty, you know that?"

"Whatever," he grumbled.

"Come on," she said, the smile evident in her tone. "We were getting along so well just a second ago. Let's not let cultural differences get in the way." She leaned over and nudged his arm with her shoulder. "Now where's all this water I can destroy you with?"

Zuko scoffed and set off across the courtyard. "Yeah, that's how it's gonna go. It's over here by the—" He looked to make sure she was following him and froze as thoroughly as if she'd bended ice around him. She was taking her dress off. "What—what are you doing?" he choked. He'd thought the evening was going well, but not that well, and Katara hadn't seemed like one of those girls who'd—who'd….

She looked up at him quizzically. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're taking off your clothes!" If Zuko had been in a better frame of mind, he might have cared more that his voice cracked by about three octaves. Was 'sparring' a Water Tribe euphemism for something else entirely?

"Well yeah I'm taking them off. You think I'm gonna spar in this? For one thing I'd ruin it, for another, it's almost impossible to move in properly. You're not gonna spar in that, are you?"

Zuko looked down at the fine red silk, heavily embroidered with gold thread and obsidian beads, and remembered all the time he'd spent getting stuck with pins while the aging Palace Wardrobe Mistress' fumbling assistant took his measurements. Of course he couldn't spar in this. He should have thought of it before. "Ah… good point," he allowed, beginning to fumble with the knotted ties at his throat and cuffs. Katara negotiated the series of whalebone clasps along the side of her bodice much more smoothly and shrugged out of the fitted sleeves. The dress slithered down her body and crumpled at her feet. Zuko's fingers suddenly became even less nimble. She was perfectly decent: she wore dark purple leggings to just below her knee and a blue tunic-like garment on top, sleeveless and baggy, but not so loose that he couldn't tell that she was trim but curvy underneath. She kicked off her shoes and set her hands on her hips. Her eyes landed on him and she quirked an eyebrow. "Tell me Princes here are able to undress themselves?"

Zuko startled back to motion, yanking his party clothes open, hearing several seams protest. "Of course we are," he retorted, feeling his face go as hot as one of Uncle's tea pots. "Besides, you're a princess, so you can't make jabs at royalty."

"Chief's daughter," she corrected him primly, raising a finger in a schoolmistress manner. "We are an entirely different breed from princesses."

"Oh?"

"Certainly." She grinned a sharp grin. "For one thing, we're much less delicate, and more likely to kick a prince's butt in sparring."

This elicited a true laugh from him. "I'd love to see you take on my sister sometime."

"Arrange it," she said carelessly. "Now, shall we get on with our bout, or is all this an elaborate attempt to stall? I notice you've still got your fancy clothes on."

He looked down and swore under his breath. He yanked off the long robe and let it puddle on the ground. He was also perfectly appropriately attired: a fitted red long-sleeved shirt and flowing burgundy pants that tied off at the middle of his calf. He turned to point her in the direction of the mammoth water tank she'd be drawing from only to find her giving him a speculative look. "What?" he asked uncomfortably.

"Nothing," she said quickly, turning away. "You're just… skinnier without those heavy robes on."

He smirked at her. "I could say the same for you."

He saw her go quite red as she started quickly across the flagstones. "So this is water over here?" Her voice was a little shrill.

"You tell me," he called, once again astonished at how bold and easy he felt around her. It didn't seem like they'd met only less than an hour ago. It felt like they'd somehow known each other forever. Zuko was not as big a believer in destiny as his uncle was, but Katara made him wonder if—

Something wet smacked him in the back of the head and he stumbled a couple steps forward.

"Yep! It's water!" she shouted cheerfully.

A little stunned, he shook water out of his ear and then turned to face her, hands on hips in a manner (he realized too late) very reminiscent of his mother. "Is it common in the Water Tribes to sneak up on one's opponent in such a craven manner?" he inquired in a haughty tone. "I must say I find the situation deeply shocking."

She laughed a bright, ringing laugh, and he was spellbound. The half-moon's light wove through her hair like the most subtle ornament, and limned the water she bent through her hands, making it move like some living thing. Her body was tense and arched, her grin was wicked. "Don't tell me the little princeling can't take a little water," she taunted, and her water swirled faster, eager.

In response, he summoned his element, and lifted hands wreathed in light and heat. He was weaker at night, but still a very skilled bender, and his opponent made his blood rush with energy. He threw the first blow to make up for her sneak attack, a soft, luffing billow of flame that rolled towards her at a nearly relaxed pace. They were only warming up, after all.

She dispersed his fire easily with a swift flick of her arm and returned his attack in kind, a long, lazy tongue of water slipping over the ground towards his ankle. He reduced it to steam without effort and she quickly pulled more water from the enormous tank beside them. She came at him with a more serious attack, double-water whips aimed at his knees and head, and he countered with a volley of quick flaming punches before dodging out of the way.

Their attacks became more varied and energetic after that, but also more seamless and natural. Zuko felt almost as if he were dancing again, but a dance more organic and flowing than any choreography of the ballroom. His opponent matched him step for step, and they grew quicker, wilder, celebrating themselves, each other, their elements, till Zuko forgot everything else. He lived in his body, felt the pull and stretch of muscles working, and the beautiful burn of his breath in his throat and lungs, and the power Agni bequeathed on him flowing through his limbs and out towards her… Katara.

Beautiful before, she was nearly otherworldly in her bending stances, shifting as easily as the water that answered her summon. Slowly, he started to read her movements, move to block before her form was even complete, and she was catching on to him as well. They both moved faster to compensate, and soon they were whirling, their bodies singing with the heat and the wet. He cast a sustained wave of fire, already planning his next move, but she gave a startled yell and he fell out of the trance they'd built together.

He stopped, gasping, and looked to her. She stood a little distance off, looking shocked and almost confused. She held a lock of her hair in her hand, and it took Zuko a long moment to understand the meaning of the singed and smoking ends.

But then it hit him.

"I burned you!" he shouted, appalled at himself and instantly ashamed. The first lesson a Firebender is taught is that their element can be a danger to themselves and others, and a Firebender who is not careful is sure to cause destruction. Zuko had taken that lesson deeply to heart as a young boy after nearly burning his mother in a fit of childish showmanship. He rushed over to her, overcome with remorse and utterly unable to do anything to fix it. He couldn't un-burn her, after all. "Katara, I'm so sorry." His voice came out hoarse and broken.

"It's okay, it's just hair," she said, and the sincerity in her voice only made him feel guiltier.

"No, I shouldn't have… I lost control, I was too aggressive, I'm so sorry…"

"Zuko!" She caught hold of his shoulder and he stilled, as captivated by her eyes as he had been before. "It's not your fault. I'm the idiot who didn't put my hair up before sparring a Firebender. If anything, it's my fault. And it really is just hair. You have nothing to apologize for."

"But…"

"Nope." She squeezed his shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for." Her smile was wide and honest, and a dizzy, vertiginous feeling spun its way up from his toes to the top of his head. "But if you want to make it up to yourself, you can help me cut it evenly." She let go of him and started gathering her hair into a tail, running her fingers through it so that the ends would fall neatly. "Does this look right?"

"Um, yes, I mean, yeah, I think so. Do you have a knife?"

She bent a small puddle of water up from the ground and froze it into a wickedly sharp blade. "Yep." She gathered her hair in her fist, holding it about an inch above the burned ends (which meant about 5 inches above the non-burned ends) and confidently sliced it all off. "Here, do you mind burning this?" She held the shorn hank out to him.

"Uh, sure, okay." She dropped the hair into his cupped hands and started fluffing her hair out to see that it fell right. It was still long, past the middle of her back, but to Zuko the difference was glaringly obvious. While she was occupied with that, he winnowed out a thin lock of hair from the bundle in his hands and tucked it up his sleeve. Then he burned the rest in a small puff of flame, and watched the ashes flutter up towards the stars. When he looked back at Katara, she was watching him with a strangely soft smile.

"You really feel bad, don't you?"

He ducked his head. "All Firebenders are taught how dangerous their element can be. I should have been more careful."

She let out a little sigh. "If it helps, my hair was like, this far away from the rest of my body." She held her hand at almost her whole arm's length away from her. "I was turning quickly and my shield was too small. Accidents happen in sparring sessions, and this was a small one. It's really okay."

He shuffled his feet and peeked up at her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, smiling now. "Now, want to go dance more?"

His heart lifted more than he would have thought possible. They helped each other back into their fancy clothes, checked Katara's hair for stray burnt strands (there were none), and went back inside and danced for the rest of the night.

A/N

This has been half-finished in my WIP folder for aaages so I was so glad to have this excuse to finish it! Hope you like it!

E.I. signing out