Zuko threw a pile of leaves onto the wood ad the fire flickered as the smoke turned black. It rose from the ground in foul clouds, staining the beauty of a light sky with something dark, rank, disgusting..A burning signal to the outside world that there was a mistake dwelling on that scratch of land, waiting to be rescued by someone with a better heart than himself. He was an unholy blot slashed on a flawless background of sky, a black sin that had corrupted the face of an innocent. His heart was gone, clawed and torn until it was nothing left but a confused, vile pit of ferocity that grew from its own dead remains, back-stabbed, and devoured itself.
Katara placed her canteen of water down beside him and wiped her forehead. She was oblivious to Zuko's thoughts and was determined not to look and/or speak to him, fearing he would bring up the uncomfortable events of the night before. But Zuko had deemed the memory unimportant, besides the fact that he had finally learned the girl's name. Katara herself was seeking an excuse to speak, not quiet knowing how to pass the time with the Fire Nation Prince.
"So...why is this temple deserted? I mean...I've never seen a fire bender temple before and...this isn't..." she stuttered quietly, but when Zuko's shoulders tensed she backed off. He had not, however, gone rigid from any offense of the question;
She was standing on his left side, and he couldn't see her.
"This temple was a place where only the strictest preachers came," he whispered, struggling not to turn his head. Despite the fact she was nothing but a blur and it would be much easier if he simply turned his head, something in his pride restrained him. He had to pretend he didn't care, didn't have an opinion on the question. "My...father used this place as a safe house for his warriors. Earth Nation attacked the troops one night...they were defeated, but the preachers...I suppose no one bothered to come back after that."
He cringed inwardly at his own insensitive account of the island; he, of course, had not been present during the fight, but knew from the stories of his Uncle that it was a gruesome ordeal. A lump of guilt formed in his chest and his eyes wavered a little as he stared into the flames of the fire. Katara, on the other hand, was secretly fuming from the short and brutal tale and she stood, crossing her arms and turning her back to Zuko.
"So, your father sacrificed those preachers to trap Earth Nation. Like father like son, then."
Zuko insides burst into sudden ruthless flame and he turned on her, a volcanic inferno. He grabbed her arm with a hand that was unlit and she gasped at the unbearable madness burning in his eyes. His voice was low, shaking with the unbound pain of this injustice.
"My father is a coward and a murderer," he hissed, he flaming fist inches from her face. His grip on her arm was strengthening and Katara, terrified, could do nothing but stare into the captivating ferocity of his tortured eyes. "You will never, never, compare me to him.You do not know me."
He released her and she stumbled back with tears in her eyes. The golden gaze of Zuko's eyes stared at her for a moment longer, until the flame in his fist died down and faded away. He turned away from her, but Katara's fury had not been released. Hissing between clenched teeth, she glared at the Prince's back and rubbed the sore spot on her arm.
"You think you're the only one who knows pain, don't you?" she whispered venomously as Zuko listened, unmoving. "You think you're the only person who's felt like the world has turned against them, like the earth's been ripped from under you, like everything and everyone you love has been ripped away!" she screamed, leaping towards Zuko's side again. He froze as she entered his blind spot and ground his teeth.
"All this time I thought you were some, uncaring, unfeeling monster," she snarled. But her tone slowly faded as she went on, Zuko's scarred eye still squinted and refusing to look at her.
"You...you force yourself on this ridiculous journey to find the Avatar, for who? For yourself? Do you want glory or fame or something?"
"No," whispered the Prince faintly. Her words were slowly cutting into his heart, but that wasn't possible...he didn't have a heart...
"Then what?" said Katara softer, seeing the anger fade from Zuko. "Why are you doing this? You make yourself so...angry...so apathetic. Look at me, Zuko..."
Zuko's lip quivered slightly and he bit his tongue.
"I can't, Katara."
The sound of his voice speaking her name, for the first time, made something deep inside of her shudder. Every word he said was surrounded with this harsh, bitter tension that was never quiet wiped away...but when he said her name, it was clear and smooth, like a drop of calming water within the desert of his words.
"What do you mean, you can't?"
Zuko was still staring straight ahead. He refused to turn his good eye on her, refused to allow the vision of her peaceful features, all lit with concern and curiosity and anguish...anguish he had caused, anguish his father had caused, anguish the nation caused, that the very fire running through his veins had caused...he shut his eyes from frustration and ground his teeth until he feared his gums would bleed. He was about to storm away again, but Katara knew his plan and was determined to stop him.
Zuko didn't really remember how it happened. All he knew was that he was suddenly staring, with both eyes, straight into this endless pool of something cold, clear and soothing; her hands were pressed to the side of his face and he could feel the cool comfort of her touch beginning to melt him. She blinked slowly and he couldn't help but stare at the movement of her long eyelashes flashing across icy pools.
"Fire Nation killed my mother," she whispered gently, but her eyes were fierce. Zuko gazed, lost for words, as the water bender continued. "Fire Nation took my father away. But it was Fire Nation that did that...your father..."
Her gaze fluttered on him as she realized the burden on his shoulders...the guilt that rained down on him every hour, every day...the inescapable pain he was forced to endure...
"...and you're the one who suffers..."
He trembled, his body threatening to break down, but he held his composure as he pushed away. Katara's hands fell, her hearttorn and confused, his voice drifting back to her ears.
"I'm sorry, Katara..."
He was staring at his hands again. Those horrible, ruthless hands that vomited flames from the pit of his dark fury, the palms that were woven with soft lines of his own destiny, his future pain, all the twists and turns and torment he was fated to endure because of his Nation, because of his father, because of the Avatar...and out of all people, he had ended up on an island with the one person who could reach into the depths of his pain and make him feel like...he wanted to do anything and everything he could to help her. But what could he do? Her mother was dead, and he could not give her life again...
"The actions of my Nation will always be blamed on me..." he whispered, clenching his hands into tight fists. "...and I will bear them, all of them, even if I never gain back the respect of anyone. I'm sorry, Katara...I'm so sorry..."
He slid away from the fire, completely at a loss to find a definition to the guilt and pain he felt. Katara stood there, silent as stone, appalled with herself.
"Why won't you get better already? Shouldn't flying bison heal with magic or something?"
"Sokka, yelling won't make Appa get any better any sooner. Relax, I found some Leechy Nuts!"
The warrior sweat dropped and stared at Aang, who was gobbling the little red nuts with Momo at his shoulder.
"What happened to all those melons Momo was getting? Lemur! Go find us more melons!"
Momo looked at Sokka, quivered his ears, and then pounced on his head.
"What - NO! MOMO! You little -"
Appa groaned in what might have been a deep-throated chuckle as Sokka fumed. Aang watched, bursting into laughter at the comical antics of the pair.
"Sokka, Momo only got the melons cause Appa needed them. He probably won't go through all the trouble again." The lemur made a funny little squeak and settled back onto Aang's shoulder. Sokka's stomach groaned and he glared out at the ocean.
"Wherever you are, Katara, I hope you're having the time of your life...with lots of food. So you can save me some..."
She saw him standing quietly by the pool, lost to reality as he watched the flickering, rainbow lights of the cascading waterfall. She swallowed and approached him, trembling with anxiety, unsure of what his reaction to her appearance would be.
He didn't realize she was there until he felt the cool, calm touch of her skin on his; he shuddered and turned as her hand left his shoulder, finding himself face-to face with those captivating, soothing, deep eyes...and what she said, what she said to him made everything in the world seem to vanish in a moment, carried away like some fleeting nightmare he no longer feared...she gave him a different strength, something other than his physical endurance, his mental will...she gave him something that made all the chains on his heart melt away, made the fires of his fury die out. Her voice held a note that no one had ever sang to him, a promise that no one else had ever kept...she was beauty...she was forgiveness.
"It not your fault, Zuko..."
And as she put a hand to his face his heart flared in sudden fear. Because for the first time in his life, he believed those words. He believed her. With every ounce of his mortal body...he believed her.