Water
Isux Lake
Though Katara ran as fast as she possibly could, it still didn't feel fast enough. She had to get to Zuko. She had to get him out of there—to take him somewhere else, somewhere safe before the ice collapsed beneath him. But no matter how fast she moved, the lake just felt so far away. Too far away.
She was terrified. She couldn't deny that if she tried.
There were quite a large number of waterbenders—probably twenty or thirty at least—gathered by the southwestern side of the lake when Katara approached from the east, and her breath caught in her throat. It didn't look like they'd started quite yet, but it couldn't be long now.
Acting purely on instinct, Katara drew a bit of water up from the path behind her and swung it forward, shattering it into mist. By the time that her feet met the ice, she was entirely enclosed in mist—hopefully invisible to the waterbenders on the far side of the lake, and hopefully silent enough not to alert them to Zuko's hiding place.
"Zuko!" she called when she drew nearer to the pit, torn between the urge to shout to hurry him along and the knowledge that raising her voice too high would inevitably draw attention their way. "Zuko, come out here, quick!" She barely managed to catch herself before skidding over the edge, and dropped to her knees, breathing hard.
There was a bit of rustling before he emerged from the tent and shaded his eyes with his hand. "Katara? What are you—"
"Come here," she answered, waving vigorously. "Hurry. We have to get out of here."
To his credit, Zuko headed toward the steps without hesitation, but that wasn't fast enough for her. Not nearly fast enough. With all the adrenaline still rushing through her veins, Katara pushed back to her feet, pulled a substantial amount of water from the walls of the pit, wrapped it tight around Zuko's middle, and hauled him up to the lake's surface.
He swore aloud and took a second to recover both his balance and his composure. "What the hell, Katara? You're acting—"
She grabbed his hand before he could go on. "They're draining the lake. We have to get out of here now."
His brow furrowed as he looked deep into her eyes. "What are you talking—" He turned ever so slightly, squinting through the dissipating mist, and his eyes widened when they landed on the far lakeshore.
Katara glanced that way as well. Though the details were indistinct, the group of waterbenders appearing as little more than dark smudges against the snow, it seemed that they were beginning to move. Then, just as she'd feared, the ice began to shudder and crack, louder at the far end of the lake.
Wordless, she tugged on his hand, spinning back toward the southeast and cloaking them both in heavy mist once again before they began to run.
Though Zuko's stride was longer than hers, though he could easily have left her behind, Zuko never once allowed his grip on her hand to falter. Which was probably a good thing. Katara had already run far enough that she could no longer feel her legs. She couldn't slow down, not even if she wanted to, not even for an instant, and somehow Zuko's hand made her pace and her progress across the ice feel steadier.
He pulled her along, only half a step ahead as the cracking sound deepened, growing closer and closer behind them.
Almost there.
Almost there.
Almost there.
They were only fifty or so paces from shore. If they could just make it that far before the cracking caught up to them, they would be okay. Katara could take Zuko—somewhere. It wasn't dark enough to take him into the city yet, but that wouldn't be too much longer. Until then, she could figure something out. Someplace to go with him, to keep him safe and out of sight until after sunset.
They just had to make it to shore first.
Behind them, the cracking grew almost deafening, and the ice began to shake worse than before, slowing their progress as it pitched beneath their feet. Zuko looked back over his shoulder as he ran, and after he briefly met Katara's gaze, his eyes flicked to the side and over her shoulder.
His eyes widened, and his grip tightened so much that it almost hurt. "Katara—"
He didn't make it any farther than that. Katara's next step fell on what felt like nothing, and as she instinctively stretched out her arms to catch herself, she lost track of Zuko's hand.
The freezing black water reached upward to swallow her whole.
The sheer force of the cold was to knock all the breath from his lungs and to drive any other thoughts from his mind. It was too cold. Cold enough that everything hurt, from his fingertips straight through to his core.
When Zuko managed to surface—he wasn't sure how his head broke through into the air with his limbs half-numb, half burning with cold like this—he found himself gasping and choking for air. And even after his lungs refilled, it took all his effort to expel enough air to take another breath.
Breathe normally, he ordered himself. Breathe and give your firebending some fuel or you're going to freeze to death. If you die out here, it's going to be your own stupid fault.
It hurt. Just like everything else at the moment, it hurt to fight the impulse to hold his breath. But he managed one deep breath, and his inner flame crackled to life. Another, and the warmth spread through his torso. A third, and although he still ached with the cold, he could at least feel his limbs again.
And he could think. And hear.
A series of sharp, high-pitched gulps came from behind him, and he twisted in the water until he found Katara several arms' lengths away, struggling to remain afloat.
"Katara!" Zuko swam toward her. He couldn't remember feeling quite this frozen and achy the last time he'd swam in the North Pole's frigid water, but he supposed that he'd at least been prepared that time. Not like now, when the ice had turned to liquid right beneath his feet, and he hadn't even had the time to suck in a breath in preparation.
It must have been even worse for Katara. As far as he knew, she'd never swam in water this cold before. She didn't know how to fight against it.
He reached out an arm. "Katara, swim this way. We're almost to shore."
For a moment, it looked like she was trying to paddle her way closer, but her movements where all too small, too fitful, and then she shook her head, the motion small enough that it was difficult to tell whether it was deliberate or not. "Too—too cold."
Shit. Zuko swam closer. "Grab onto me," he ordered. He thought his voice came out a bit too harsh, but there was no time, no use in correcting himself. "If we don't get out of the water, you're going to freeze."
When she took an instant too long to reach out, Zuko grabbed her hand instead. "Keep your head above water," he barked. Again, his voice was far more harsh than he intended, but he couldn't stop to correct himself. There was no time for that. He wasn't even sure his voice would work if he tried softening his words. "I'll pull you to shore if I have to, but if you could at least try to help, that would be great."
He didn't know whether Katara listened. All he knew for certain was that they were moving. Slowly. Possibly too slowly, but they were moving toward shore.
By the time that they reached the dark, pebbly stretch of shore that used to be blanketed in snow and ice, Zuko's legs were half numb, and he wasn't certain that he could stand. Still, he forced himself upright, dragging Katara along after him until they were both clear of the water before he finally stopped long enough to look at her.
Katara was soaked and disheveled and shivering so violently that her entire body shook. Her lips had begun to take on a faint, grayish hue, and although the loops of hair that usually framed her face had come undone and hung in near-black streaks across her cheeks, she made no effort to push them away.
Zuko's heart sank a little. Shit. She was cold. Far, far too cold. It had only taken them a few minutes to clamber out of the lake, but he knew enough of the dangers of extreme cold to know that even that could be too much. If he couldn't warm her up soon, then she would—she would—
Instinct took over, and he grabbed Katara by both shoulders. "Katara, listen to me. Can you dry us off?"
Though she was shivering so badly that it was difficult to tell for certain, he thought that she nodded. And then, after a brief, breathless moment, she pulled back from him, raised her shaking hands ever so slightly, and drew the water from his clothes, then from her own.
Zuko frowned. He could still feel dampness around his collar and in all the creases of his clothes. Worse, he was fairly certain that she'd done an even less thorough job on her own clothes. He was just about to tell her to try again—on her own clothes anyway, he would be fine just like this—when she wrapped her arms tight around herself and staggered into his side. Then, rather than pulling away when she realized her mistake, she pressed even harder against him.
"We—we have to—to hide you."
"What?" Zuko grabbed her shoulders again, pushing her far enough back so that he could meet her eyes. "No, we don't. Not right now. You need to warm yourself up first."
"I can't."
He could feel his own voice rising, taking on a more frantic edge. "Of course you can. You're the Avatar, you can do anything. You can firebend."
"I d-don't know how." She was leaning forward again, like she was desperate for what little warmth he could afford her.
She probably was. And as willing as Zuko was to try, he knew that it couldn't possibly be enough. He was struggling just to warm himself back up.
"Then—" His mouth was dry, but he only hesitated for an instant. "Then I'll show you. Here." He grabbed both of her hands and pressed one flat against his own stomach and the other against hers. "Feel that? That warmth inside of you—that's where firebending comes from. If you concentrate on it and breathe deeply, it'll expand and help you warm up." She wasn't quite looking at him, and he gave her hands a desperate squeeze. "Please, Katara, you have to try."
She squeezed her eyes shut, and her breathing shifted—she was trying. Hard. He could feel it, and though it was distant through the layers of her clothing and parka, he thought that he could also feel the flames flickering inside of her, trying to take hold.
Please, please, please work, he begged silently. She had to get through this one way or another. She had to regain all the heat that she'd lost.
She had to be okay.
But the flickering only managed to hold for the length of a few breaths before the shivering overtook her again, and she shook her head, leaning into Zuko again.
"I can't do it. I'm—I'm really cold, Zuko."
Shit. He swallowed hard, letting his arms close around her as he pushed more energy into his own bending and searched around them. An hour ago, he might have bundled her into the tent, let her have the sleeping bag and all his blankets, then planted himself in the opening to pump the space full of heat with his bending. But now, there was no tent. No sleeping bag, no blankets, just the two of them in the freezing cold, both still damp from their plunge into the lake. If she couldn't warm herself, then there was no way that he could warm the both of them. Not out here. He was having a hard enough time keeping his torso and his limbs warm—he'd lost all the feeling in both his fingers and his toes, and the aching coldness was still trying to press inward on him from the outside.
Shit. He had to get her someplace safe. Someplace sheltered.
"Come on," he said in a harsh whisper, pulling her toward his side. He couldn't offer her much in the way of warmth, but if she stayed close, it had to be better than nothing. "We're going. You can walk with me, right? You have to walk."
She tried to bury her face into his side. "Walk where?"
He had to take a slow, bracing breath before he answered. "To your house. You'll be able to warm up once you're inside." Of course, there was every chance that Zuko would be spotted on the way there, that despite the clothes, someone would realize that he was a firebender. Or that he'd make it to the house, and Sokka would be so furious that he'd kick Zuko out as soon as Katara was settled, then Zuko would inevitably be captured anyway because he had nowhere left to go—but Katara would be safe. She'd have dry clothes to change into, and a fire to sit by, and that was all that really mattered.
As long as Katara was okay, Zuko couldn't really ask for anything else.
She pulled back just an inch or so—just far enough to meet his eyes. "Hood up. Please. If you're going into the city, you have to at least—"
Before she could go on, he reached up with his free hand and flicked the hood up over his head, trying his best not to notice the odd, musky odor that the fur was emitting now that it was wet. "Fine. I'll keep my head down." His arm tightened around her shoulders. "Come on. We have to go now."
Though leading Katara along the street was easier than hauling her through the water, their progress still felt agonizingly slow. Too slow. He glanced back toward the lake once to see that much of the water had been lifted up into the air—an impressive and slightly terrifying sight, he had to admit—but otherwise kept his eyes fixed on the street in front of them, scanning each and every house for the familiar carvings around the door. He'd only been there once before, but he thought he'd gotten a decent enough look at the front of the house. Surely he could find the place again. He had to, even if Katara was shivering too violently to point him in the right direction.
Unfortunately, by the time they reached the house that Zuko recognized—he thought that he recognized, at least—Katara had stopped shivering. That didn't make him feel any better about things. In fact, he felt much, much worse. They were still outside, Katara's clothes were still damp, and try as he might, he could only extend his own bending so far. It wasn't that she was warming back up. It couldn't be.
Which meant that something had to be wrong. Very wrong.
He hesitated just an instant outside the door, and Katara looked up at him, a little bleary-eyed. "We're here?"
Zuko nodded. He thought so, anyway. He didn't really care either way. It was a house—whether it was the right one or not, it had to be warmer inside than out.
He shoved his way unceremoniously through the door and pulled Katara along with him.
"Zuko?" On the far side of the room, Sokka shot to his feet. "What the hell are you—"
Aang rose too, and he, at least, had the decency to look concerned. "What happened? Are you guys okay? Katara?"
Shakily, she pulled away from Zuko's side. "The lake. We—we fell in."
"You what? How did that—I mean, why—how—"
Ugh, they didn't have time for any of his stupid questions. Zuko grabbed Katara by the wrist and shoved past Sokka, pulling her farther into the house. "You need to get dried off. Right now. Do you have dry clothes around here somewhere?"
"Mmm. But I don't want to change." Her eyelids drooped a bit, and her shoulders began to curl inward.
"Yeah?" Sokka pushed past Zuko this time and grabbed Katara by the arm. "Well that's too bad for you, because you're going to change. If you're not back in two minutes, I'm coming in after you." He shoved her a little too roughly through the nearest door on the right side of the room. The second that she was out of sight, he crossed his arms and glared daggers at Zuko.
"How did you two fall in the lake?" Aang asked. "The ice is really thick. Shouldn't it be really hard to—"
Zuko pulled his parka off over his head and tossed it aside. There was more moisture still trapped in the fur than he'd realized at first, and his clothes underneath—just a dark gray tunic and nearly matching pants, much like what he'd always worn as the Blue Spirit—were soaked in places, but he, at least could steam himself dry. Though it was still cool by his standards, that was no danger for him personally.
Just for Katara. She was going to need more warmth than this and soon.
"I'll bet that Zuko here did something stupid and accidentally soaked himself while he was trying to get Katara," Sokka announced. "What else could it possibly be?"
Zuko scowled and shoved his way past, toward the sad-looking fire pit. "The waterbenders are draining the lake," he said, not looking back as he crouched and began stacking more fuel onto the pathetic blaze and feeding it further with his bending. "Katara came out to warn me before they started, and the ice collapsed just before we made it back to shore." He frowned. "Isn't there any more firewood than this?"
"Why the hell would anyone drain the lake?" Sokka demanded.
Aang, meanwhile, made himself at least passably helpful by trotting to the far side of the room and returning with an armload of firewood.
Zuko stacked another few pieces on top of the fire so that it would burn as long and hot as possible and set the rest to the side. Then, and only then, did he spare Sokka a glance. "I have no idea what they're doing. There wasn't a lot of time to talk. Katara got to the lake, we ran, and the ice broke." He stood up and turned toward Aang. "Are there any extra blankets or furs or anything?"
"Yeah, in the bedrooms," Aang answered. "I'll go get them."
Zuko nodded, wracking his brain for anything else that might help. Anything that might be able to pull Katara back from the edge that felt far too close at the moment.
Sokka still looked deeply unimpressed. "What do you think you're doing now? Making yourself comfy?"
Zuko tossed his arms out to the sides. "I don't have anywhere else to go. And if you think that I'm going anywhere before I know that Katara is okay, then you're insane. I'm not leaving when I might be able to help." He wasn't sure what he could really do that the others couldn't, but he'd figure something out. Probably. He was going to lose his mind if he kept feelings this helpless, this useless for much longer.
Sokka frowned. "Fine, then. Aang, keep an eye on him. I'm going to go make sure that Katara is okay." With that, he shoved through the door after Katara.
Zuko gave an exasperated groan and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. What did Sokka want him to do? He'd brought Katara back home as quickly as possible. There really wasn't anything else he could have done to help her, but even he realized that this didn't look good. Especially so soon after Sokka had gone out of his way to accuse him of—something. Manipulating and endangering Katara, apparently.
Aang was apparently taking Sokka's instruction very literally, and he stood uncomfortably close. "Don't you need some dry clothes too? I mean—I don't know if we have anything for you, but you're not that much bigger than Sokka. I could go look through his stuff and see if—"
Zuko shook his head. Even if he couldn't dry himself with his own bending, he certainly wouldn't accept any of Sokka's clothes. Not after all those accusations and—ugh, he'd lost Sokka's sleeping bag at the bottom of the lake, hadn't he? And Katara's tent, and all of his own supplies too. Sooner or later, he was probably going to need to borrow more things. He didn't need to start that now if he could help it.
"I can dry myself off. It's Katara who I'm really worried about." He cast a glance toward the door, then shook himself back to reality and tried to focus on his bending until steam began to rise off of his tunic.
Aang frowned. "Why didn't Katara do that? She is a waterbender. Couldn't she have dried you both off?"
"She tried. I think she was too cold to focus by the time we got out of the water, that's all."
"Oh." Aang paused. "I guess that makes sense. Do—do you think she's going to be okay?"
Zuko had to swallow hard and look away. "I'm not sure. I hope so." He finished steaming himself dry and looked at the fire again. A fire and furs—it felt as though he ought to do more, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of anything.
Aang glanced toward Katara's room again, then gave a somewhat forced-looking smile and pointed toward the cushions around the fire. "You can probably sit down. I'm sure they'll be back out soon. And I'm sure Katara's going to be okay. Right?"
Zuko wished that he could believe that so easily. Of course he'd pulled Katara from the water and led her back to the house as quickly as possible, but it was much harder to know whether that could possibly be enough.
"Sokka doesn't want me here," he opted for instead. It was true, and even Aang couldn't reasonably dispute that point. "Not that I care that much, but I'm sure he'll be angry if I'm sitting down when he gets back out here."
"No, I don't think so. I think he's just worried about Katara." By his tone, it was obvious that Aang was worried too. "Nobody's going to make you leave, I promise."
That was difficult to believe, but Zuko reminded himself that Sokka wasn't the only one who got a say in these things. Aang already seemed okay with him staying for a while, and Katara—maybe she would agree too. They weren't friends, he hadn't forgotten that part, and she didn't have any reason to hold any fondness toward him, but she hadn't minded his company recently. Maybe she'd be fine with him staying long enough to be certain that she was okay.
Rather than taking a seat, he paced the length of the room a few times before returning to stand just outside Katara's door. Though it felt like an eon, the door eventually opened, and Katara emerged, with Sokka practically dragging her along.
"Sit by the fire," Sokka ordered.
"Stop pushing," she answered, sounding groggy. Her hair was entirely loose now, hanging in half-dried curls and tangles, and she wore a fresh, dry outfit. "That's mean, Sokka."
"It would be a lot meaner to leave you alone," Sokka said, pushing her straight past Zuko and over to the cushion nearest the fire. After he'd gotten her settled—a little roughly—he jabbed a finger at her. "Stay. Don't even think about leaving that spot, understood?"
Her face scrunched up. "Mmm." It was near impossible to tell whether that was an assent or not, but she stayed put.
Sokka seemed to take it as a yes, and he tossed one of the furs around her shoulders, then marched back to Katara's room, giving Zuko a glare and ramming him with his shoulder along the way.
Zuko couldn't find it in himself to care. The moment that Sokka was gone, he ventured closer. "Katara?"
She looked up at him, still a little bleary-eyed. Though she was at least dry now, her lips still had that odd, grayish tinge, and she hadn't begun shivering. Still, she reached out her hand toward him. "Hey. You—you sit here." She patted the spot beside her, her hand not fully opening. Her fingers were probably still numb—possibly frostbitten as well. "I don't wanna see you freeze."
It was a little difficult to breathe. Zuko came closer. He wasn't certain that he could convince himself to sit with so much nervous energy coursing through his body, but he could at least stand closer to the fire if that made her feel better. "I'm fine, Katara. I used my firebending, remember?"
Her hand came up and brushed against his wrist like she wanted to grab him but couldn't quite get her fingers to obey. "Sit, Zuko."
He obeyed.
Katara gave a small nod in what looked like satisfaction, then turned to stare at the fire, her forehead creasing.
"Are you okay?" Zuko asked, just barely above a whisper.
"Mmm." This time, it was clearer than before that her thoughts were a bit muddled, a bit slow, and she took a moment before she managed to answer. "Tired. Really tired. And my hands hurt."
"That's because of the cold," he told her quietly. Then, "Can I see your hands?"
She held them out in his direction, and Zuko inspected them as gently as he could. His stomach twisted each time that she grimaced, but thankfully, he couldn't see anything too terrible. They didn't appear to be frostbitten badly enough to cause any lasting damage.
"They should feel better in a little while," he told her, hoping with all his might that he wouldn't be proven wrong.
"I can heal them if they don't." Katara pulled her hands back and tucked them both against her stomach, then went back to staring at the fire. "Yours too."
Zuko watched the flames too, forcing them to burn higher so that the heat would reach her faster. "I told you, I'm fine. I don't need any healing."
Her voice dropped. "I should've run faster."
Before Zuko could answer—she'd run as fast as she could, and if anything, she ought to have stayed far away and left him to fend for himself—Sokka reemerged with Katara's damp parka draped over his arm and hung it over the fire, glowering at Zuko the whole way.
"You don't need to be that close to her," Sokka said. "Didn't I warn you earlier?"
What? Zuko hadn't exactly begged to sit by Katara. Though he absolutely didn't want to leave her side now that he was here, it hadn't been his idea.
"Katara asked him to sit there," Aang said helpfully, taking the spot directly across from Katara on the opposite side of the fire.
"What?" Sokka half-yelled.
Katara frowned. "Shhhh, Sokka."
Sokka did not look happy about it, but he did at least stop shouting. He flopped into the remaining gap between Zuko and Aang. "What happened? How did you end up in the water?"
Brows still furrowed, Katara pulled the furs tighter around her shoulders, and Zuko had to fight the urge to reach out and help her with it. "They're—they're draining the lake. Using the water to reinforce the walls."
Aang cocked his head to the side. "Can't they use the water outside the city instead?"
Slowly, Sokka shook his head. "No, that's all salt water. It wouldn't freeze very well." He glanced toward Zuko, apparently annoyed that his story matched Katara's. "How did you know that it was happening?"
"I was with Yue," Katara answered. "One of the waterbenders from the upper class came to talk to her. He said that they were draining the lake." She paused, voice beginning to shake.
Zuko looked her way, and the tension in his chest and shoulders eased almost instantly. She was shivering again. Finally.
"I ran all the way to the lake," she added. "I was—I was scared."
His hands clenched into fists. He'd seen the fear in her eyes. At the time, he hadn't quite understood it, but the fear had been obvious. And he still didn't understand why she cared that much about what happened to him, but the fear itself made sense. He cared about her, after all. He had to look after her. He had to be sure that she was okay.
He clenched his jaw as he focused his attention on his breathing. Warmth from both the fire and his own core stretched out farther, until he was almost convinced that he had Katara enveloped in it. Until he was sure that he was helping to bring her temperature back up to normal.
Sokka frowned, but when he turned to face Zuko, he seemed a bit calmer than before. "Why didn't you warm her up? You did it for yourself."
"I tried." Zuko rubbed his forehead. Between the amount of effort it took to keep the flames burning as high and as hot as possible and the general fatigue settling over his limbs, he couldn't find much spare energy for annoyance toward Sokka. "We were both soaking wet. There was only so much I could do with my own bending. I tried to show Katara how to use her firebending too, but it just didn't work."
Katara shifted a little as a particularly violent wave of shivering struck. "Is there—is there something wrong with me? I'm supposed to be able to—I'm the Avatar. I should be able to firebend."
"No," Zuko answered as forcefully as he could. "No, there's nothing wrong with your bending."
"Then why couldn't I—"
"Because most people can't firebend in the cold without spending a lot of time practicing first. I guess—I just hoped that something would work." He clenched his hands even tighter to keep from reaching out toward her. He knew what that felt like. He'd spent most of his life feeling utterly useless as a bender. He wished that he could keep Katara from ever feeling that way. Zuko swallowed again and shook his head. "Coming back here was really the only other option I could think of."
Aang made a thoughtful face. "Maybe I could teach her to do the same thing with airbending. That might be easier."
Zuko couldn't fathom how it would be—air was a lot less direct way to generate heat than stoking the fire that was already inside them, and it would be practically worthless in the water—but he didn't have the heart to argue when Katara made a small noise of agreement. She shifted again, and if he wasn't mistaken, he thought that she was leaning a tiny bit closer to him.
"You guys can work that out later," Sokka said. "I think the more important question is what we're going to do about Zuko. I mean—it wasn't great that he could get out of the pit whenever before this, but—"
"You know I am right here, don't you?" Zuko asked, exasperated but too tired to speak very harshly.
"Well, obviously. But we can't risk keeping you here."
Aang frowned. "Why not? He is helping us get ready to fight Zhao. And we've got plenty of room."
Zuko shook his head. "I don't need to stay here that long." He couldn't imagine that he'd like hiding inside of the city any better than he'd like sitting at the bottom of an ice pit, and he didn't savor the idea of being close to Sokka all the time either. Not to mention all the others from the Water Tribe who would probably come to visit them all the time.
"Great." Sokka sat a little straighter. "Well, you know where the door is."
"What? Now? I can't even put the stupid parka back on right now." Frustration began to build up, and the back of his eyes started to itch. He was too tired to muster a convincing argument, too overwhelmed to think through his options and find a safe place to spend the night, and too—terrified to leave Katara alone. Of course Sokka and Aang would try to look after her if he left, Zuko knew that, but he wouldn't be able to stand not knowing for certain. Not tonight. He had to stay at least until he could be certain that she was okay.
"Yeah, well—Yue got you the rest of the Northern Tribe clothes, right? Maybe we could get her to borrow another set until these dry out."
"Sokka, that sounds really mean," Aang protested. "We've gotta let him stay for the night at the very least."
"Why?" Sokka asked. "It's crazy dangerous to keep a Fire Nation jerk in our house. Especially after—everything."
"After what?" Zuko demanded. His voice began to crack. He'd been trying so hard to make things right—Katara was the one who he had to make amends to, and Katara was the one who was beginning to trust him. Why couldn't Sokka allow at least that much? "After pulling her out of the water? After making sure that she got back here safe? There's nothing else I could have done. I'm trying to help."
"And I told you, I'll believe it when I see it."
"What more am I supposed to do?" Zuko shouted. "I'm doing everything I can, and—"
A soft, warm weight landed against his left shoulder, and he stopped midsentence, heart in his throat.
For several long moments, he sat absolutely still, scarcely remembering how to breathe. He'd noticed Katara moving ever so slightly closer to him, noticed her beginning to slump as the exhaustion settled in deeper. Logically, he knew that she had to give in to it sooner or later. Logically, it only made sense that she had given up and rested her head on his shoulder simply to keep from toppling.
Still, his face burned, and it took all his will to finally look down at her.
Katara had scooted closer to him—closer than he had even realized—until she hardly had to lean to the side in order to rest against him. Her shivering had grown just a fraction less violent, and her eyes were closed, her dense lashes forming delicate, shadowy semicircles on her cheeks.
Shit.
Zuko couldn't identify the feeling that had begun to flood into his chest, but it was soft and warm and fluttering, utterly unfamiliar, and yet—pleasant. Somehow, that terrified him.
"Hey!" Sokka leaned sharply forward and grabbed Katara by both shoulders, pushing her upright again. "Hey, Katara, listen to me. There's no reason for you to be leaning on Zuko like that. If you're tired or something, just—"
Her eyes opened a slit, and she made a small, grumpy noise. She smacked Sokka's hands away and nuzzled back into Zuko's side. "Leave me alone," she mumbled, eyes closing again. Her hands looped clumsily around his arm. "He's warm."
Though Zuko wouldn't have been the least bit surprised to see Sokka try to haul Katara away again, he stopped instead, frowning deeply. He waved his hand in front of Zuko a few times, pulled it back, thrust it forward until it nearly crashed into Zuko's face, then lowered it. Still hovering uncomfortably close, Sokka furrowed his eyebrows. "Are—are you firebending right now? Like to warm her up or something?"
A little confused, Zuko nodded. "Of course I am."
With that, Sokka thumped back onto his own cushion again, staring at Zuko like he'd grown an extra nose in the middle of his forehead. "Well, then that's—" He frowned, crossing his legs, and rested his elbows on his knees. "Well."
Author's Note:
When someone is writing a fic with this much time spent at the North Pole, I think a hypothermia plotline is obligatory. This is super self-indulgent, and I refuse to apologize for that 😉 (but then I doubt that anyone is complaining about the whole Katara-snuggling-against-Zuko-for-warmth thing). Also, I needed a way to prove to Sokka that Zuko really does care about Katara's wellbeing, and this seemed like a good place to start. They may not agree on much, but they can agree on taking care of Katara!
See you in two weeks, and in the meantime, reviews are very much appreciated!
