Chapter 11: The Second Jasmine Dragon

The waterbender is strange.

After a whole year in the Jasmine Dragon, a million teas, dozens of weirdos hitting on the waterbender, and multiple instances where he has almost been recognised, Zuko thinks he is no closer to understanding Katara at all.

Like, at all. Katara, or rather Sapphire Fire - where the hell did she come up with that name, anyway - had struck him as strange from the moment he had met her, and she's gotten steadily stranger the more he gets to know her. Nobody sane ties up what could have been an innocent refugee in shipping rope, anyway.

For example, she's taken a strange liking to wrestling, of all things. Ever since Ocha had mentioned in passing an underground wrestling club, Katara has spent every morning anxiously waiting for the list of wrestlers to be posted on the local bulletin. Why? Maybe she's big into the sport. She's definitely got the temper to match.

"Are you a fan of wrestling?" he had once asked her when he walked with her to see the morning bulletin posts.

"No," she had said, crestfallen, "not yet."

What does that even mean? Are girls just confusing, or is Katara especially so? Not that he can claim to be adept at understanding girls. He recalls what Mai was like, constantly annoyed about something, and it was the most dizzying guessing game to figure out what. Aside from that, there wasn't a chance in hell that he could read what she was feeling. Then there was Jin, the girl he went on a date with when he was last in Ba Sing Se in the old life, but she was all giggly and twirly, and he thinks he can't really be blamed for pretending to move away from the city and then ducking into the kitchen of the Jasmine Dragon every time she visited.

Katara is neither. She's pretty serious; has been for as long as he's known her but more so since her mother's death. He can't ever imagine her being giggly or twirly. But she definitely wears her heart on her sleeve, if the number of times she's shouted at him or cried is any indication.

She's got a temper that can easily rival his. For the number of time she chastises him for stomping and yelling, she's prone to doing the exact same not a half an hour later. The only other woman he knows that has his temper is Azula, but Katara is angry in the non-insane way, to his unending relief. She luckily does not need to feel the need to fry people alive every time she gets upset. Drowning them, he guesses, would be the equivalent for a waterbender.

She seems to have warmed up to him, luckily. Not all the way; there are clearly secrets she's keeping from him, and every time he tries to ask her too many questions about her past, she gets skittish and snappy. It suits him well, given that he is taciturn about his own past. They maintain a steady truce of not being too nosey, and their camaraderie has luckily improved to the point that he doesn't think she would try to turn him in to the Fire Nation guards in Ba Sing Se, which, given who he is, is a big sign. And although she fights with him a lot, she's not going to drown him to death.

Not that she could drown anyone, even if she wanted to. Neither of them has regained their bending, try as they might. Zuko wishes, not for the first time, that he could talk to his Uncle. Uncle always knew what to do. The only thing Zuko has left of him is the Pai Sho tile - or smelly sock tile as Katara for some reason insists on calling it.

Not that they're facing a dearth of clues about what's going on with their bending. It turns out it's something of an epidemic in the Earth Kingdom as well. They've not encountered a single earthbender here, and Katara had confided in him a while back that she had overheard two guards on the ship they boarded talking about the Fire Nation's genocide of earthbenders, too.

To be fair, not all earthbenders were killed off. Zuko knows from personal experience that the Dai Li is out there, and Katara knows this too. He avoids the subject of the Dai Li altogether with Katara. Any reminder of the Crystal Catacombs is one that he'd like to avoid. If he thinks enough about it, he can still imagine cool fingertips on his scar and her eyelashes fluttering from up close. He remembers the Avatar; the mistrusting, betrayed look the boy gave him when he saw Zuko with Katara under the catacombs.

Zuko sighs and stares down at the now-tepid cup of tea Ocha had prepared for him. He hasn't brought up what he thought the bright, white light in the Southern Water Tribe represented. Soon after Katara had cracked that iceberg, he had asked her if she knew his terms for returning home, and the skittish manner in which she reacted led him to believe that she did. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, he thinks she might have just reacted that way because he scared her. He's taken a long time to gain back even an iota of trust, and he knows that beneath the façade of a convalescing relationship lies deep mistrust, for not just the Fire Nation, but also for him.

He's no real rush to bring up the white light again, anyway, for reasons he's not too sure about himself. He had promised both her parents that he would take care of her, sure, but why did that mean bringing her with him everywhere he went? Why is he staying with her here?

He looks up to where she's standing, with her back faced to him and her unbound hair covering her shoulders, save for the little loops in her hair that she's pulled back. She's decked in the Earth Kingdom's traditional green, scribbling down orders for a table. After a second, she turns to look at him and gives him a small smile, eyes wide and expectant.

He swallows and stands up, putting his teacup down and walking towards her. When he reaches her, she has to crane her neck up to talk to him.

"Can you deal with that table over there? They've been driving me nuts all morning," she murmurs, gesturing towards a knot of Earth Kingdom girls.

Zuko nods stiffly and fishes his notepad out of his apron pocket, which he has tied around his waist. Fighting down a blush, he walks over to the group of girls who have suddenly burst into giggles at the sight of him.

If Zuko could cover his scar, he would, but he doesn't want to draw attention to it more than he has to.

"What can I get you?" he asks them gruffly. They giggle some more, and Zuko scowls. He jerks his thumb towards the list of today's specials.

"Our specials," he grumbles, having to raise his voice over the incessant giggling, "include a black sesame tea, and a white orchid infusion."

"What would you recommend?" one of the girls asks, leaning over her friend and blinking too much at him.

"Uh..." This is why he shouldn't be a waiter. What would he recommend? They're all leaves in hot water; how did it matter? He glances over to Katara, panicked, but she's moved on to another table and is chatting merrily with them. He channels his best Iroh. "The white orchid infusion brings peace and serenity to those who drink it."

They stare at each other, and Zuko starts to feel stupid. He's spouted absolute bullshit and for a second, it seems like they don't buy it.

But one of the girls recovers first and smiles smoothly at him. "You seem really knowledgeable about your tea, uh..."

"Lee," he tells them, praying deeply that someone comes to interrupt this conversation. Even the Dai Li would be welcome.

"Well, Lee," another girl cuts across, "why don't you come drink some white orchid with us?" She scoots over and pats the space next to her.

Oh. Oh. The giggling. The staring at him. The whispering amongst themselves. They weren't laughing at his scar, they were...

"Um," he stammers. "Um..."

"He's pretty busy right now, but I'll get you the white orchid," Katara supplies, suddenly at his elbow, smiling down at the displeased girls.

Relieved, Zuko follows Katara into the kitchen, and catches sight of her smirking.

"You knew," he accuses, pointing at her.

"Well, they asked for the cute boy in the apron; who am I to say no?"

Zuko glowers at her, but her smirk just widens, and he wrestles the apron off his head and flings it on the floor. A small laugh escapes Katara, and he is about to lose his temper, but then he looks up at her. She's got a hand fisted on her hip and she's biting her lip to stop herself from laughing, and despite himself, because he is an idiot, and especially so when it comes to girls, he can't help but give her a tiny, begrudging smile back.

"What happened to the earthbenders, Ocha?" Zuko asks her a few days later as he, Ocha, and Katara sit on Ocha's dining table for dinner. Outside, the sun is setting, leaving the kitchen bathed in warm light that reflects off the many pots and pans dotting Ocha's counters. The windows are pushed wide open and a pleasant breeze fills the room. Katara divides up the dumplings Ocha has made them and pours them some tea, watching Ocha closely.

"We don't know," Ocha replies, grabbing her chopsticks. "A while back, there was mandatory registration for all benders, at the punishment of death if they didn't and they were caught. One day, all of those earthbenders were rounded up and transported. We don't know where."

"Is this just in Ba Sing Se?" Katara asks.

Ocha shakes her head. "In virtually all the big cities in the Earth Kingdom. Omashu is the same. They've started to go for the smaller cities, too. The plan is for all earthbenders to disappear."

"Why doesn't anyone fight back?" Katara wonders, resting her chin on her palm.

Because the Fire Nation is too strong, Zuko thinks but doesn't say. Katara has met Azula, but she doesn't quite know exactly how ruthless his sister can be. But it's true. Dissent is met with swift retribution, likely in the form of death, and many people don't want to risk it. But Ocha has a different answer.

"Where do you think we are?"

"Pardon?"

"Secret Ba Sing Se. You think the Fire Nation knows about this stronghold? If it weren't for the Freedom Fighters - "

"What?" Katara has perked up, sitting straight and staring at Ocha.

"Oh, of course you wouldn't know, the Freedom Fighters are a rebel group in the Earth Kingdom that have spent their time trying to even the odds against the Fire Nation. The leader had lost both his parents to the Fire Nation, but revenge ends up souring a person. He's a strange guy."

Katara stares down at her plate, and Zuko thinks she might be thinking of her mother. Katara changes the conversation.

"What's the name of the leader?"

Ocha waves her chopsticks. "Don't remember. He's come to the tea shop a few times. Very cocky, but good tipper."

"Okay," Katara says, and doesn't say much else for the meal.

"What about Mushu?" Zuko asks, a little greedily.

Ocha turns to survey him, frowning thoughtfully. "Last I saw of him, he said he was off to figure out some sort of Fire Nation mystery." Ocha shrugs, sipping on her tea. "He said there was some type of grand experiment happening in the Fire Nation, and it was tipping the cosmic balance."

Zuko scowls. Tipping the cosmic balance was the phrase that Iroh used whenever Zuko was doing something he disapproved of. Brewing tea for too long? Tipped one way. Too short was tipping it the other way. Mixing the wrong tea blends, drinking it too quickly, not savouring it enough... granted, those were the only things that really annoyed Iroh.

Zuko buries his face in his hands, groaning. Why couldn't the old man have left a more concrete clue? "If Lee wants to come find me, then I'll be at that inn near the Serpent's Pass." Is this how old people pass their time, by torturing anyone younger than them?

Why hasn't Uncle come for him? Zuko lets the dam of self-doubt overtake him. Maybe he was a terrible nephew. Maybe Uncle decided he wasn't worth coming back for. Maybe he's already betrayed Uncle in this lifetime, and he's in jail. Zuko stifles images of his Uncle sitting behind bars with the same justification: the Fire Nation's quest for world dominance was the right way forward, and Zuko can't be blamed for supporting it.

But Zuko thinks of Katara's mother and father. Her father was probably out to fight for his home. And her mother lay there, murdered and mangled, and Zuko had to step past the body to carry Katara to safety. The mantra of finding the Avatar and restoring his honour once again splutters within him.

In this life, it has been nine years since he's been banished. He knows this because there's no other reason he'd be washed ashore at the banks of the Southern Water Tribe, without a fleet of his own. He could sneak back into the Fire Nation, of course, but he would feel guilty, dirty, like an interloper. He instead spends his mornings just watching the sun bleed orange as it rises and thinking of the ash banana trees ripening. It's the closest he has felt to his mother since his banishment.

Since her passing all those years ago, nobody had taken him to Ember Island, or taught him Fire Nation folklore, and he clings on to those memories nightly, of a brilliant, orange sky and the story of Ran and Shao lulling him to sleep. He wonders where she is in this lifetime, and if she would even care to find him.

He looks at Katara again, who seems to be caught in her own whirlwind of inner turmoil. Affection unfurls in him suddenly. Katara would probably understand, if he told her about his mother. Maybe he could tell her everything. About his scar, his banishment, the Blue Spirit. She would understand, wouldn't she? And would she understand about the Avatar? About why he had to do what he did under the catacombs?

No, supplies an unhelpful voice at the back of his mind that sounds like Iroh. So then he circles back to the question that creeps up on him daily: why is he still her with her? What, exactly, is stopping him from packing up and leaving, knowing that she'd likely be safe here, and he could thereby have kept his promise to her parents?

Weakness, replies another voice in his head. His father. Zuko lets out an unsteady breath, his scar suddenly itching. Katara has lifted her gaze to look at him as Ocha washes the dishes behind them. Zuko's expression hardens, and he stands up to leave the kitchen, ignoring Katara's confused calling of his name.

The next time he steps foot in the Fire Nation, it will be to restore his honour. He'll spend the rest of his life hunting for the Avatar if he has to, Katara or no.

"Lee? Lee!"

Zuko swears loudly upon recognising the voice, to the chagrin of two nearby old men playing Pai Sho on one of their outdoor tables. He grits out an apology and sets their tea down, before bracing himself and turning around.

Jin is waving frantically at him, weaving her way eagerly through the tables and coming to stand by him. A couple of patrons look around at the sudden commotion, unhappy with being woken up from their slumber in the afternoon sun. Jin stares up at him for a second, grinning, before resting her hand on his arm. He fights his urge to shrug it away.

"You moved back to Ba Sing Se?"

What? Oh. "... Yes."

"That's great," she gushes, still staring up at him.

"Okay, well..." He jerks his thumb towards the kitchen.

"Wait! Don't you want to stay and catch up?"

"I would, but I think I need to help with..." He gestures around vaguely, and he and Jin look together at the snoring patrons. Which is how he ends up scowling down at a cup of tea as Jin prattles on about everything that has happened in Ba Sing Se in the last few months, very little of which is of any use to him whatsoever...

"... and Yumi ended up going out with Gui Li's brother instead, which I think we all saw coming... and, oh, and Hiro sprained his leg trying to scale the outer wall on some stupid dare. His dad ended up catching him, so thank god, but it was really crazy... and everyone's going crazy about some wrestling match between Fire Nation Guy and The Boulder. I've got a few spare tickets because my dad got some from someone he works with!"

Zuko, having zoned out a few sentences ago, is startled when Katara sits next to them suddenly. She's forgone her usual outfit for a sleeveless number and loose-fitting pants. Her hair is pulled up into a haphazard bun in an effort to beat the heat, and a few stray locks of hair escape the bun, curling themselves around her temples.

"Sorry to interrupt, but... did you just mention The Boulder?" Katara says, patting his arm in greeting. Zuko's stomach suddenly swoops, and he grumbles into his tea some more.

"Yes," Jin replies, looking taken aback by Katara's sudden presence.

Katara ploughs on. "When is the match? Are the tickets sold out? I'm Sapphire, by the way."

Jin looks extremely suspicious of the name, grasping Katara's outstretched hand delicately and shaking it. "Nice to meet you... Sapphire." She shoots Zuko a look, who just shrugs.

Jin's not wrong, to be fair. It's a stupid name, and he's told Katara as much, but apparently she and Sokka used to traipse around with the fake names Wong and Sapphire Fire... apparently they pretended to be the parents of this one kid they knew to get him out of trouble at school. Zuko inwardly rolls his eyes. If this was the type of thing they tried to do in the Fire Nation, they would have been caught in an instant. And expelled, probably.

Katara has managed to squeeze out from Jin the information surrounding the fight.

"It's at noon tomorrow, and I have a few tickets," Jin mutters, eyeing Katara. She then turns back to Zuko, hesitant. "Would you... like to go with me?"

"Sure!" Katara supplies easily, smiling at Jin, thankfully unconcerned that she is interrupting the two of them. "We'd love to go, wouldn't we, Lee?"

No, Zuko wants to shout, but he looks at Katara, and there's something desperate in her eyes, and he ends up agreeing. He spends the rest of tea time with the two girls cursing Katara's love for wrestling.

Jin doesn't stay too long, thankfully. Probably driven away by Katara, who won't stop quizzing Jin about The Boulder and every single person he has ever wrestled with.

"I don't know!" Jin kept huffing.

"But did he wrestle with any girls?"

"I'll wrestle you," Zuko heard Jin mutter at one point, before storming off.

"Tomorrow at noon!" Katara had called after her, oblivious.

Now, he looks at Katara, equal parts relieved and annoyed with her. "What was that?" he asks, following behind her as she checks in on the tea shop customers.

She waves a hand absently, using the other hand to pick up tea cups. "Oh, you know... wrestling. Besides," she shoots a sly grin at him, "I owe you for throwing you under the carriage with those other girls a few days ago."

"You do," he begrudges. "Why couldn't you just have gone with Jin?"

"I don't think she likes me very much," Katara shrugs. "Besides, I don't want to crash your date."

"It's not a date!" he all but shouts at her. Katara laughs, patting the air.

"Relax," she says, "I'm joking. I just know that these matches can be filled with weirdos, and you do a good job of keeping them away from me."

Zuko doesn't really know what to say, so he instead picks at a loose thread on one of Ocha's decorative tablecloths. "There are a lot of weirdos," he finally allows.

"I know," Katara agrees, "and I could take care of them easily, it's just that they're usually too scared to approach me when you're around."

Something ugly rears in him; a sudden understanding. "Are they?" he growls, slamming cutlery onto a nearby table and storming inside. It's his scar - of course they would be too scared to approach him, who wouldn't, and of course Katara wants to use that to her advantage. Who wants to come near a freak, anyway? He slams the door to the tea room open, ignoring Ocha's reprimand, and begins to pace around, nerves frayed by the sudden smell of jasmine diffusing in the room.

"Stop it," Katara tells him, having followed him inside. He turns around and she looks irritated. She has pulled her hair out of its bun and it cascades easily down her shoulders, like waves. "I know what you're thinking, and it has nothing to do with your scar."

"Oh yeah?" he snarls. "People don't get too disgusted to come up to me?"

"No," she snaps, now coming to stand right in front of him, arms crossed. "People don't care that you have a scar."

He knows this is a lie, and he tells her as much.

"Fine," she amends, "I don't care that you have a scar."

Beyond the haze of anger, something falters. "You don't?" he asks, still glaring.

"No," she says, softer. "And people are scared to come up to you because you're always angry and growling about something." She looks pointedly at Zuko's hands, which are clenched into fists.

Slowly, he relaxes his hands, still trying to process what she said. She doesn't care that he has a scar?

She gives him a half-smile. "You keep all the weirdos away from me, and I keep all the fangirls away from you, right? I think we make a good team."

He stares at her dumbly. He's never been in a team before. "Yeah," he says, "a team."

She smiles at him, and this smile is different, more genuine than the ones he would get from her over the course of the year. He can't do anything but stare back, wide-eyed, as she walks upstairs and into her room. He watches her hips sway for a second, before groaning and sinking into a nearby chair, rubbing his eyes. In the back of his mind, he has come to the inescapable conclusion that he is completely and utterly screwed.

Disclaimer: I do not own A:TLA.

A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews! For the tenth chapter, I thought we could switch briefly to Zuko's perspective. What do you think? IC? OOC? Can't even recognise the entire fandom based on my characterisation?

Anyway, I think we were due for a little fluff. Please, please leave a review if you like!