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A/N: Mwahahahaha!

Brightest Nights or Darkest Days

By Kittenshift17

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Three weeks later Katara laid in bed beside Zuko, his arm thrown possessively over her waist, pressing her close to him. Beyond their encampment the moon glowed full and bright overhead and Katara's body practically sung with the power of it. She couldn't sleep despite the warmth and comfort that radiated through her Reiki Kizuna to Zuko as he slept soundly next to her. Alive with the power of her Bending and unable to sleep when her mind buzzed with conflicted thoughts and feelings, Katara rolled slightly until she could take in the sight of Zuko.

Sound asleep, his scarred face seemed peaceful – even tranquil. He was stretched on his side, one arm curled up under his head and the other looped over Katara's waist, holding her close. Shirtless despite the weather, Zuko slept deeply. In the five weeks they'd been travelling together, she'd seen many sides of the Fire Nation Prince, including the side that fought nightmares in the dead of night. More than once he'd woken her up with a shout of pain or fury when he sat bolt upright in bed.

Today he seemed peaceful, tired from the long days spent travelling as they made slow headway toward Ba Sing Se. They were almost there, she knew. They'd stopped last week at a small tavern and Iroh had engaged a man in a game of Pi Shoh that had led them all to being informed about the Order of the White Lotus. With the help of the White Lotus people they'd all been given passports for the Earth Kingdom, claiming they were refugees from Omashu on their way to Ba Sing Se for a fresh start.

The story didn't matter very much to Katara. What mattered were the changes she'd been going though, and those she'd seen in Zuko. She wondered if Aang and Sokka were changing too. She wondered if they were even still alive. She had been hoping against hope that they'd run into them on the road. She'd hoped she might catch sight of Appa flying overhead, and when they travelled by day - her and Zuko crammed into the saddle aboard their Komodo-Rhino - she spent half her time with her head tipped back and resting against Zuko's shoulder, watching the skies for some sign of the sky bison and her friends.

She ached with missing them. A strange sort of throb under her breastbone, it persisted no matter how much Iroh might make her laugh with his silly jokes; or how it amused her when Zuko made faces at her during Iroh's jokes, or when he made faces while Meng was babbling, or made more faces when Kuzon and Meng were being inappropriate and forgot to erect a second wall to block out the sound of their love-making. She missed Sokka's stupid jokes and constant sarcasm. She missed his complaints about being hungry and craving meat, and his frequent attempts to persuade Aang that eating meat was the best way to live.

She missed his smelly socks and his bad mood and his annoying habits. She missed Aang, too. She missed his constant naivety and his silliness and his ever-persistent curiosity about the world around him. She missed Appa's groans and grunts when they talked to him or when he was sick of flying or wanted his belly rubbed. She missed Momo's constant chatter and the way he'd perch on whoever might be the most likely to feed him.

She ached with missing them all and she wanted to find them more than anything. But by the same token, she'd begun to appreciate her new friends too. Iroh was funny and wise, offering advice when it was needed, anecdotes and stories that helped pass the time, and silly things to say when things looked grim and everyone was cranky. She'd found that Kuzon seemed an amalgamation of Sokka, Aang, and Zuko, all in one. He was easily riled liked Zuko, curious like Aang, and as sarcastic as Sokka, often poking fun at his girlfriend while she babbled and at Zuko when he got into a mood.

Even Meng had grown on her. Katara had almost forgotten when it was like to associate with other girls and it was nice, sometimes, to have a break from boys and their antics. Though she was infuriatingly perky and chatty to the point of frustrating, Meng was also incredibly nice, reminding Katara of Aang with her chattiness and her naivety and her habit of getting herself into trouble when she decided to try something that wasn't entirely safe.

And then there was Zuko.

Katara sighed softly, reaching with careful fingers to brush the hair out of his eyes as he slept on, unaware of her scrutiny. Zuko was… in a word… difficult. He was sensitive and cranky and sarcastic and witty and dangerous all at the same time. He could be playful and laughing one moment and positively furious the next. Worse, he had developed a habit of pulling her into his personal space or of invading hers without thought, subconsciously gravitating to her despite their opposing elements and conflicting personalities and their propensity to fight and argue over stupid things.

She spent entirely too much time kissing him when she knew she shouldn't, and she was more convinced than ever than the Universe was trying to intercede on them doing anything more than that. Every time things got out of hand toward being steamy something happened to interrupt them. They'd be ambushed by thieves in the night, or the Rhinos would begin to fight, or Meng and Kuzon would start going at it first, completely alienating everyone else, or Iroh would show up with a pot of tea.

Despite crawling into bed beside the Firebender every night, and despite spending almost all day in the saddle aboard the rhino with him, they had been tame and even tentative in the way they interacted and touched one another. Katara knew it stemmed from a concern over what would happen when they had to split up so he could return to the capitol while she returned to Aang's side to continue his training and to gather an invasion force.

It had been preying on her mind for weeks now, since the night in the hotel room, and Katara didn't know what to do about it. She knew that she was more than passingly fond of the prince. She was well and truly intrigued by him and half the time she fancied herself in love with him, while the rest she cursed his name and his existence because he was the moodiest boy she'd ever met. He got on her every nerve and when she wasn't thinking about how best to maim him, she was thinking about climbing into his lap and kissing him until she couldn't see straight.

Admiring his features by the glow of the moon as he slept, Katara felt a painful twist inside her chest. Even with the scar marring his left eye, he was unerringly handsome. She liked it best when he smiled, though it was rare, and she liked to watch him when he spoke about things just to watch expressions form on his face. She liked to breathe in the unique scent of his skin, spicy and smoky and somehow zesty all at once. She liked the feel of his embrace around her, too. She'd spent many an evening leaning against him inside their igloos as they travelled, his hands tracing patterns over her stomach and playing with her fingers – so rarely idle that it made her smile.

She liked that he was a fidget except when he was angry, often drumming his fingers on things, drawing patterns on her skin when he could touch her, or playing with her hair when she let him. She liked that he played with his fire, flicking it across his fingers like she might fidget with a rock or her necklace. She even liked the habit he'd developed of sneaking up behind her and pressing his lips to the side of her neck while she was distracted making dinner or working on her Bending, or trying to listen to Meng or Iroh or Kuzon when they talked. Most of all she liked that for all that he did those things, he was careful with her, too.

He never pushed his luck too far if she was stroppy and he never made her feel like all he wanted from her was that she spread her legs and make him dinner when he was done. She liked that he seemed to genuinely value her opinion. He didn't often speak unless he was making a sardonic comment or offering bemused commentary on their progress, but when he did engage her in conversation it was often insightful.

As she laid there next to him in the dark igloo, the gleam of the fire in the fire-pit of the main room beyond their sleeping room illuminating his features, Katara smiled slowly. He was her friend, she realised. Perhaps her closest friend. For all that she'd been close with Sokka all her life, and that she adored Aang like he were her little brother, she'd never had many friends back in the village and it wasn't easy to make or keep friendships when you spent your life flying around in the saddle of a sky bison.

Zuko was perhaps her best friend and the thought both pleased and terrified her. He was entirely hers in that she didn't have to share him with Aang or Sokka. He was someone she could gripe at about her cramps or her frustrations with Meng or with riding on the rhinos or the war or just about anything else and he listened without trying to immediately find a way to fix the problem the way Sokka and Aang both did. He made her laugh at the most inopportune of moments and for all that he called her an ally or a potential lover or just about anything other than a friend, Katara knew he valued and enjoyed her company.

Mostly because he was a rude and arrogant jerk who wouldn't hesitate to tell her if he thought otherwise. She adored playing games with him. They could while away hours aboard the rhinos taking turns saying what they would do when the war ended, or what they'd have done if there wasn't a war, or speculating on how things might change when the war was over. She liked lobbing snowballs at him or pinching his food when he was in a strop. She liked that he pulled her pig-tails right back. He might've singed off her hair-loops, but he wasn't above literally pulling her hair if she was being irrationally grumpy about something.

It felt strange to Katara. She'd never really known anyone else like him. Certainly Sokka provoked her when she was in a mood, and supported her when she needed it and even watched out for her wellbeing. But that was his job as her big brother. Aang, too, had been more concerned with the world around him and with where they were going and the burden of the world as it rested upon his shoulders. Admittedly, the weight of the Fire Nation and the judgment of the rest of the world weighed heavily on Zuko's shoulders too, but Katara found she liked that. For all that he could play with her sometimes, he was only too willing to martyr himself for the sake of the world.

As she traced his features with her eyes while he slept, Katara realised that not only was she falling for him, but she was also terribly fond of him as her very best friend. It was going to be trouble down the line, she knew. Maybe it would be a comfort to him when he returned to the capitol, surrounded by enemies. But for Katara, it was like an impending tidal wave in the distance, gathering momentum and power, just waiting to crash over her with all the rage and devastation the ocean could unleash. And as though it were really a wave, the Waterbender in her both awaited its crest and its crash over her, while fearing it just a bit, too. But this time she would have no control because it wasn't a wave and so her bending would be useless unless she could figure out how to heal a broken heart.

Sighing softly and knowing she wouldn't get any sleep with the moon full and her mind whirring, Katara slipped out of Zuko's hold and stretched languidly, feeling her bending power sing in her blood. She crept out of the igloo and into the night, sighing at the sweet caress of the moon when it kissed her skin. The nearby stream gurgling merrily in the dark drew her like a moth to a flame and before she knew it she'd waded to her waist into the cold water, feeling her power surge and the irresistible urge to Bend crash over her again.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

General Iroh of the Fire Nation woke slowly to the sound of the occasional giggle followed by sloshing sounds. Ordinarily he'd have put his pillow over his head, suspecting the giggle belonged to Meng and that she and Kuzon were up to mischief again. But this time the giggle sounded different and the accompanying sound of rushing water drew Iroh's attention to the fact that it was a full moon.

Smiling a little to himself, he crawled out of his warm bed, intent on checking on the little Water Tribe woman who'd so wormed her way under his nephew's skin. Iroh liked Katara. She was blunt and nothing like the prim, prissy, predatory princesses that Zuko had been surrounded by in the palace. She was unwaveringly kind; even when she lost her temper she was the most selfless and sweetest person Iroh had ever met. She didn't think twice about offering assistance to anyone who needed it and she had a habit of mothering everyone she met, even him.

That amused him perhaps the most. He'd been accustomed to being waited on as the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation before Ozai's betrayal, and even aboard Zuko's ship, he'd had servants at his beck and call. Living as a fugitive had been an adjustment for him and for Zuko, and it was nice to be waited on every now and then. He especially liked that even though Katara went out of her way to mother everyone, she did it in a way that made it feel like mothering and like she cared, rather than like it was her profession.

She'd happily fix them all dinner, but she'd also nag about there not being enough firewood, or about them not doing the dishes, or not picking up after themselves. She cared in a way that Iroh hadn't really been used to before and he knew that Zuko was enthralled by the sweet Waterbender.

He slipped out into the darkness, the moonlight overhead bathing everything in silver and illuminating the Waterbender where she was waist deep in the river, playing with the water and practicing her bending in such a way that Iroh chuckled to himself. She was having fun, revelling in the power of the moon and he couldn't help but settle down on a nearby rock to watch her simply to study the art of Waterbending.

He hadn't been watching for long when he felt someone approach him from behind.

"Uncle?" Zuko asked, sounding sleepy.

"Hello, nephew," Iroh murmured, patting the rock beside him and waiting for the boy to take a seat. He was underdressed for blizzard weather, having ventured out in only his sleep-pants and a sleeveless shirt. Iroh didn't bother chiding him for it, knowing that much like he did himself, Zuko was probably feeling a strange warmth from the moon as it glowed overhead.

Zuko was silent as he settled himself on the rock beside Iroh, his eyes fixed on the Waterbender playing in the river.

"She is beautiful," Iroh observed quietly, watching Zuko out the corner of his eyes and smiling to himself when Zuko nodded in agreement.

"I forgot that the full moon would make her restless," Zuko murmured. "I got worried when I woke and she was gone."

The admission warmed Iroh's heart immensely.

"You care for her," he said.

Zuko sighed, lowering his face into his hands even as he nodded.

"I don't know what to do, Uncle," Zuko admitted quietly. "When I return to the palace…."

"She will be far away, putting herself in danger, fighting alongside the Avatar, beyond your reach," Iroh nodded. "And you will miss her."

Zuko nodded again. "I… this Reiki Kizuna is complicated, Uncle. Half the time I want to kill her and the rest I want to… emulate Meng and Kuzon."

Iroh chuckled.

"It is natural to be attracted to a beautiful girl, my nephew," Iroh said wisely. "It's not something to be embarrassed over."

"I'm not embarrassed," Zuko grunted. "I'm concerned. I want her, Uncle. And I know that if I let myself get too close, it will hurt when we have to separate for the sake of my task. And what then? We win the war from different parts of the world, if we're lucky, and then I'll be Fire Lord."

"And the Fire Nation wouldn't take lightly to a Waterbender for their Fire Lady," Iroh chuckled. "The risk of you and her siring children who would be Waterbenders instead of Firebenders would be too much a risk for the advisors and the government to tolerate. A Waterbender as the next Fire Lord, imagine."

Zuko snorted.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead, Uncle," he scoffed quietly. "I only meant that I'll be Fire Lord. I'll be bound to the capitol when I'm not meeting with delegations from the other Nations to smooth the way to peace. You know it won't be as easy as just being crowned and winning the war. Removing the Fire Nation soldiers from the Earth Kingdom will be hard enough. Some of the colonials have been in the Earth Kingdom for generations! There will be a million things to do to ensure the honour of the Fire Nation is restored without rolling over and letting the other Nations at our underbellies."

"Indeed," Iroh nodded. "And Katara will be busy with her people, rebuilding the Water Tribe cities in the South and putting her culture and her people back to rights. It will be a long and arduous journey, and the world will fight tooth and nail to resist our attempts to fix it."

"Yeah," Zuko grumbled. "And with all of that going on, what am I supposed to do with this… this…"

He flicked a hand in Katara's direction while the girl amused herself making octopus arms out of the water, completely submerged as she played by herself.

"The attraction? Or the fact that you will miss her every day you are apart?" Iroh asked gently, having seen the friendship that had developed between Zuko and Katara. They might be wildly attracted to one another, but they were also growing close as Iroh had never seen Zuko do with anyone.

"Both," Zuko huffed, sounding frustrated. "We… back at that hotel… we…."

"You had sex with her?" Iroh raised his eyebrows, shocked to hear it. He knew they might've been kissing on their travels since then, but as far as he knew they hadn't moved beyond that whilst on the road.

"No," Zuko shook his head. "At least not… fully. But it did something to the bond between the two of us. She breathed fire, Uncle. And when she… well, my whole body lit up with the blue of her healing magic."

"You think you might've somehow sealed the bond between you and that being away from her will be impossible?" Iroh asked, frowning. "I warned you about that."

"I know," Zuko sighed. "And I told her that too, but we… got a little carried away. I don't know what to do, Uncle. Do I throw caution to the wind and let things happen now, even knowing that when I leave it might kill us both? Or do I hold off and hope that someday things will play out as they might've if not for the war? We have a Reiki Kizuna. Does that mean, no matter the forces that try to keep us apart, we'll find a way? Or does it just mean that if we focus, we can do some neat Bending tricks together?"

Iroh shook his head gently. "I don't know, Zuko," he admitted. "I know little of the Reiki Kizuna beyond its potential as a weapon. I don't know if they are bonds that can be sealed, or simply harnessed."

Zuko made a soft sound of frustration, his gaze straying back to the Waterbender playing in the river. Iroh watched the boy by the glow of the moon for a long time as Zuko watched the waterbender. They were a different as night and day – as fire and water – as the sun and the moon. Yet there were some similarities, too. They seemed well-matched in Iroh's opinion, though he could admit to a little bias due to the novel and pleasing idea it was that his surly, angry, rage-filled nephew had found someone who overlooked his cutting words and his cruelty and his scar and even his heritage for the sake of seeing the boy he was – the man he was becoming.

When he peered through the darkness at Katara, Iroh noticed that while she was not traditionally beautiful by Fire Nation standards, she was truly breathtaking beneath the glow of the full moon. He noticed that she was strong and supple, her body deeply feminine despite her strength. She complimented Zuko well and Iroh had little trouble one day imagining her dressed in fancy clothing of the deepest blue, on the arm of Zuko as Fire Lord, the perfectly contrasted Southern Ware Tribe Princess escorted by the Fire Nation Prince. Their Reiki Kizuna alone ought to be enough – or would've been, in the past – to overlook their differing peoples and cultures. In the histories he'd read, those who shared such a spirit bond often were accepted by the peoples of each party, almost as though the joined was merely an extension of the other.

In times past – before Sozin's Comet - Katara would've been accepted wholeheartedly by the Fire Nation as a bride for their young prince simply because the bond she shared with Zuko. Theirs was a sacred bond, sought out the world over for the sake of furthering cooperation between the four nations and the power it granted them both. To have such a Spirit Bond occur in a member of the royal family would've been cause for celebration the world over.

Now, however, the idea of their already banished and shamed prince returning with a woman on his arm who wasn't Fire Nation would likely be considered an act of treason in Ozai's eyes. What was worse was that their plan to end the war came at the price of putting all the most powerful people in the Fire Nation out of a job. Career soldiers who were suddenly hauled home and told there would be no more fighting would surely not take well to the man responsible for rendering their sacrifices and their achievements worthless.

One of the biggest challenges they would face in ending the war came not only from the other Nations and their continued resentment and hatred of the Fire Nation, but from within their very own people. Men of the Fire Nation lived and breathed war. They aspired to be soldiers who would bring honour upon their families – who would work their way up through the ranks to become famed Admirals or General, commanding legions. Ozai surrounded himself with such people. The capitol and the Fire Court were full of brutal and cruel leaders. One hundred years of war had made it their specialty and they would not relinquish their titles or their positions lightly. Even if they locked up all the bad-eggs, there would be repercussions from the rest of the Fire Nation.

The peasants might care little for whose arse sat on the throne and which Nation they conquered next, but those with the money and the power cared a great deal. To be stripped of their leaders would hit them hard and Zuko would need every political alliance he could form for the sake keeping his crown and not being assassinated in his bed. And they would not come so easily if he brought home some Waterbender from a defeated nation of peasants who struggled to survive – especially one whose father was a War Chief, leading a naval fleet of Resistance warriors.

The logical, driven part of Iroh that wanted to see his brother pay for his treachery and wanted to see an end to this war yearned to warn Zuko away from Katara – to point out that to continue anything with her would paint her a target for assassination as surely as it would Zuko. That part of him wanted to make a point of the sacrifices Zuko must make for his crown and for the very world.

The scheming part of him wanted to suggest that they wait. That they hold off on what might one day be a fantastic tale of love until such time that Zuko was established as Fire Lord and the world needed the political alliance a marriage of their two nations would provide. He wanted to tell the boy he thought of like his very own son that he needed to be smart and that he needed to protect Katara as much as himself, that their love could wait until everything else was handled and there was time to worry about the drama of their conflicting nations opposing their match.

Yet the peaceful father at his core couldn't resist the sight of seeing the boy finally beginning to show hints of happiness in an otherwise angry and bitter existence. He wanted to encourage them and tell them that nothing could hold them back and that they might be perfect for one another. That part of him even wanted to say to hell with the war and the throne. He wanted to suggest that they forget the Avatar, the Fire Court, Zuko's birthright and even his own revenge. He wanted to suggest they find a little tea-shop somewhere in Ba Sing Se and just blend in, make a new life and be happy in their love for one another that would surely grow if given permission and just a little chance. The part of Iroh that had longed to see Zuko happy rather than so angry with the world wanted to forget about plans to overthrow Ozai and to save the world from more war. It just wanted to watch the young pair become couple, fall in love, marry, and have enough grandchildren that they'd need a whole palace just to house them all. He liked the idea of being a grandfather to them all, no matter that Zuko was his nephew rather than his son.

"My nephew," he said quietly, resting his hand upon Zuko's bare shoulder and feeling the power within the muscle there – so different from the bony and fragile-seeming boy he'd been when Iroh had hustled him out of the palace, still injured, after his banishment.

Zuko tore his eyes away from Katara with difficulty and Iroh could see the confliction and the worry swirling within them as he met the boy's gaze.

"While it might not be my place to tell you how to live your life or what you should do, especially what you should do with a pretty girl, I'd like to offer my wisdom, if you'll allow me?" Iroh said, not entirely sure he wanted to offer his wisdom at all without first letting the boy decide if he wanted his council. Too many times before Zuko had chosen to do the exact opposite of what he suggested, ever spiteful and surly in his inexperience and his youth.

"I trust your judgement above all others, Uncle," Zuko answered formally, apparently realising the gravity of what Iroh planned to say.

Iroh smiled gently, pleased not only to know that the boy was finally ready to listen to him and take his advice on board, but also to know that he was maturing so well – growing from a petulant boy to a capable and cunning man.

"She is beautiful and she is powerful, Zuko," Iroh said, glancing at Katara again when she giggled in the river, skating across the ice-waves she'd created to amuse herself. "She is a gifted Waterbender and she has the kindest heart of any woman I have ever met. In the weeks we have travelled together since you found me, I have witnessed your prickly interactions shift toward friendship and affection. I don't need to tell you, I think, that you have been without friends who aren't your dear old uncle since your banishment. Even before it, at the Fire Court, you were always kept separate from the other children to an extent. My Lu Ten was older than you and Azula was always a wretched little brat intent on upsetting you at every opportunity. Katara is valuable to you because in her I see a similar discovery of having a real friend. One close in age and maturity who isn't her brother of the Avatar.

"There is affection and laughter between you and I have seen you smile and laugh more often in her presence than I have seen you do in the five long years since your banishment, my nephew. It warms my heart to see you still remember how to laugh," Iroh teased gently and Zuko flashed him a wicked little smirk that, in the past, meant he was about to do or say something cruel. Iroh rushed to continue before the boy could butt in. "Whether the attraction between you could grow into something deeper, perhaps even love, is a mystery to us all. You have your similarities and a whole collection of differences, you and Katara. You also bicker and fight worse than loathed siblings, at times, much to my amusement."

Zuko's lips twitched on a grin as he darted a glance at Katara, obviously knowing it was true and confirming Iroh's suspicions that Zuko liked bickering and picking fights with the girl because she didn't hold back or guard her tongue just because he was a prince.

"I believe, given the time and the right circumstances, the two of you could go on to share a love so profound that the minstrels and playwrights would forevermore tell tales of the Fire Lord and his Waterbending bride," Iroh smiled fondly at the very idea. "But this is not a perfect world where two souls can simply meet and rush off into the sunset and some happily ever after. You are the crown prince of the Fire Nation, Zuko. You must worm you way back into your father's good graces before he can coronate you sister, and you must sway those at court to favour you if you wish to reclaim your throne. They will not take kindly to a waterbender in their midst, let alone in your bed or on your arm, my nephew. You might not yet be entertaining the notion, but one day it will be your responsibility to carry on the royal bloodline and the current climate within the Fire Court will not smile on a Waterbending peasant as the mother of your children. Daughter of the Chieftain leading the Southern Water Tribe warriors against the Fire Nation's troops, personal friend of the Avatar, and a powerful force to be reckoned with herself, she is not the Court's current idea of a proper Fire Lady."

"No," Zuko admitted bitterly. "They'd prefer some pretty, simpering idiot like Ty Lee, or the prim and proper snark of Mai."

"Currently, yes," Iroh said. "There is also the fact that you plan to overthrow your father with the help of the Avatar and restore balance to the world, Zuko. A balance that will end the war. Do you imagine that the career soldiers of the capitol who've built their lives around this war will take kindly to its end? That they will quietly come home and become cabbage farmers rather than fierce warriors?"

"No," Zuko bit out, looking unhappy about it.

"No, indeed. They will fight the ordinance. And for a time they will win because the world will not be so ready to forgive our Nation all that we have done. One hundred years of war will breed chaos and there will come a time when our protection will rely on those same soldiers you want to call home. No matter the peace treaties we might negotiate, there will always be resistance. Those among the court and the army who know nothing else but war and want to conquer the world under one fiery banner will fight you on it. Some may even attempt to assassinate you, nephew. While there might one day come a day when it will look good to the world and to the idea of international cooperation to have you marry a non-Fire Nation citizen such as Katara, that future is a long way off. First we have to defeat Ozai and then we must expunge his loyal subjects and hold off the angry mobs who keep calling for Fire Nation blood and who will attack our turned backs as we march out armies from their lands.

"There will also be those among the court and the Fire Nation who will oppose your rule and oppose the idea of peace. We have been taught our whole lives that peace is for the weak and will only be achieved when we conquer all. Men and women of the Fire Nation have lived and breathed war since their birth, many right up until they die on someone else's spear in battle, Zuko. Those who have lost loved ones, those who have been displaced from their homes, those who are still hurting and those who know nothing else will fight against the idea of peace and prosperity. You will have a Nation to rebuild from within, years of values and morals to change, an entire collection of history books that paint us in a favourable light and paint the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes as little more than grubby peasants."

Zuko sighed heavily, as though the fight ahead of him was tiresome even to think about.

"Ours is not an easy path, my nephew. And bringing Katara to Court, even after we win – if we win – would be dangerous. Dangerous for you, when your position upon the throne would still be rocky and constantly threatened. Dangerous for her, too. If your enemies believed they could hurt you and return to a life of war by killing her, they would do so. Her very own people might disown her for falling into bed with a Fire Nation prince. You have witnessed since your banishment that the rest of the world hates the Fire Nation for all we have done. Katara's relationship with you – friendship or otherwise – will be called into question. Her honour will be questioned, too. She will have to defend against claims of being a traitor, claims of being little more than a Fire Nation whore."

Zuko's eyes narrowed dangerously at the word and Iroh held up a hand.

"You know I would never think such things, but the world is unkind, Zuko. In particular, men of the Northern Water Tribe are very misogynistic. They believe that a woman's place is in the home, mending their clothes, making their supper and caring for their children. The Northern women are not permitted to train in combat – waterbenders or nonbenders. They are traded like objects for political alliance, their fates decided by the men in their lives. I know little of Chief Hakoda of the Water Tribe, but I know that he comes from a people who believe girls like Katara should be protected and kept safe at home, raising the young, rather than in the thick of the fighting. She will face many trials of her own when she returns home and when this war is done. It has always been the place of a Water Tribe girl's father or brothers to arrange her marriage, usually without the young woman's consultation, and while Hakoda might not be that way, there are many who will frown on her for being a warrior and who will openly disparage her should she choose a love-match not sanctioned by her father – especially one with the Fire Nation."

Zuko's scowl was fierce now.

"Their women aren't allowed to fight?" he asked coldly. "They just submit to their father's orders and marry those they loathe because they're told, without their consent?"

Iroh nodded.

"No wonder we went to war with them," Zuko muttered unkindly, looking back toward Katara. "No woman should have her fate decided without her input or her consent, Uncle."

"I agree," Iroh said quietly. "And I hope that one day Katara will not submit to such a fate. But I think you are beginning to see the problems the two of you will face should things carry on between you. Be friends with her by all means, my nephew. I know all too well that we can rarely control whom it is we develop feelings for, and she is better than most women, my nephew. You have found a very special young woman and I would like to think that one day you will defeat the odds and come together in whatever way you see fit. But perhaps, for the time being, it would be in the best interests of you both to refrain from falling in love. It will only end in pain and it will only hand our enemies a means through which to strike at you."

Zuko's brow furrowed.

"You're telling me to forget her?" he asked, looking away from the girl and over to meet his gaze. "She's integral to our plan to overthrow my Father."

"She is," Iroh nodded. "And she will be unforgettable. I think that even if the two of you parted ways this minute and never spoke again, you would still think of her upon your death bed in your old age, my nephew. I am not suggesting that you forget her, or even that you don't pursue her. I am simply trying to arm you with all the information that will help you choose, and suggesting that it's my humble opinion that waiting would be in the best interest of you both."

"I thought you lived by the philosophy that one never knows when his number will be up, and so should embrace every moment like it were his last. Isn't that why you've dragged me to silly sights all over the world, insisting that passing up an opportunity to see the world would be a mistake we'd regret should we die tomorrow? Now you're telling me to practice caution and to resist what I want?" Zuko asked, frowning.

"Yes," Iroh sighed. "For a short time longer she is yours, Zuko, if you want her. But she will be a liability and she will get you killed should this persist and be known when you return to the Fire Court and take your throne. What will you do if you've a part to play to take down Ozai and she arrives at the palace, pregnant with your unborn child?"

"She drinks moon tea every day, Uncle," Zuko pointed out.

"She does. But it is not always a safeguard, Zuko. You're both too young and you both have too much to lose to risk the fruition of passionate love," Iroh said. "Just…. Don't end up like me, my nephew."

Zuko's mouth – opened and poised to argue – snapped closed at the pain that laced that last, desperate plea. Iroh's heart twisted inside his chest.

"You have seen, firsthand, the result of a foolish crown prince who risked his crown for a pretty girl who wasn't someone the Fire Nation called their own," Iroh whispered and his eyes stung with tears as he thought of Lu Ten's mother. "Once upon a time, my nephew, I was young and cocky and I met a girl more beautiful than the moon. I chased her and I caught her and I got her pregnant. I brought her back to the palace with me and she gave birth to my son, Lu Ten. Tell me, Zuko, where are they now?"

Zuko's mouth twisted, obviously not wanting to hurt him with the answer.

"Dead."

Iroh nodded.

"Yes, they're both dead. Pema was a pretty Earth Kingdom girl I met when visiting the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom and I brought her home. I saw some of my father's respect for me as a fine young general die in his eyes when I introduced Pema to him, Zuko. I saw the way he eyed her not as a welcomed daughter-in-law carrying his first grandchild, but as little more than a vessel with which to overthrow the Earth Kingdom. Her people branded her for a traitor, you know? Azulon used his charm and his cunning while she was pregnant and I was off at war to talk her into being the example of what good Earth Kingdom girls could aspire to if they would just embrace the Fire Nation. She had my Lu Ten and she was paraded before the court and before the world as an example of our generosity, our prosperity, our virility."

A tear slipped from the corner of his eyes as Iroh clenched both his fists and his teeth on the pain that still lanced through him at the thought of what had befallen his beloved.

"She was killed by the Earth Kingdom Resistance at a rally in the colonies when your cousin was three years old," Iroh choked out brokenly, another tear escaping his eyes. "She was there smiling and waving, showing off our son and showing that if she could be so happy amid the Fire Court then surely the Fire Nation wasn't as bad as the world painted us. An Earth Kingdom Resistance unit ambushed the rally and screamed about how women who laid down with Fire Nation men were worthless whores, about how they were traitors to their own people, about how they were beyond reprehension and deserved to be 'rescued' their cruel fate."

Zuko's eyes were fixed upon his face as more tears fell and Iroh met the boy's gaze sadly.

"They made an example of her on the dais in the middle of the square. They hauled her up by her hair, heedless of her screams, and they slit her throat while they screamed about how liberated she'd been as they 'freed' her from the shame and the humiliation of being brainwashed by the Fire Nation," Iroh whispered. "And when I went to my father, furious and delirious with the pain of losing my wife, do you know what he did?"

"Nothing?" Zuko guessed.

Iroh shook his head. "He encouraged me to share my pain with the world. He pushed me and drove me to unleash my fury upon the Earth Kingdom and the Resistance."

Zuko was shaking his head. "How can you not hate them, Uncle?"

Iroh coughed a little. "How do you think I drove my armies all the way to the gates of Ba Sing Se and almost brought their last stronghold to her knees?"

Zuko's bloodthirsty grin would've pleased the man he'd been then.

"I embraced my pain and my fury. I lavished my son with attention and love and I promised him every day that I would avenge his mother until the Earth Kingdom had fallen. The day…" he choked up, then. His teeth grinding together on the fire that boiled through his blood whenever he thought of the ill fate that had befallen his son. Zuko's grip upon his shoulder was tight and reassuring and Iroh's heart clenched at the knowledge that he wasn't alone.

"The day Lu Ten was killed in battle, I was battering down the gates of the Palace in Ba Sing Se, my nephew. I was ready to mount the Earth King's head upon a spike over the palace gates and hang the Fire Nation banner there, for all to see. I was excited – had even summoned Lu Ten to join me, wanting him there to see the downfall of those I'd believed responsible for his mother's death. He was even in the city, you know? He was almost at my side and he was killed in the street by a young boy whose father had died during my siege. His death was not swift, as his mother's had been. Nor was it some example to all of the Earth Kingdom's strength. He was repeatedly stabbed with a dagger in an alley, having been lured there by that young boy with news that some of his unit were wounded there.

"I received the news at the same time that I received his body right there at the gates, Zuko. They brought his body to my tent when we paused the siege for the night, believing that with the dawn would come our victory." Iroh took a deep, mournful breath, his hands trembling as he fought the urge to sob now as he had done then. "My admirals thought that though I would be hurt, it would renew my desire to conquer the city. But when I learned what had happened to my boy… when I learned his death had been the result of a child avenging his father, all I could think about was how many father's I had robbed young boys of. How many mother's I had cost their sons. How many sisters and wives whose brothers and husbands had died by my fire or my blade and I thought of the pain I'd felt when I'd lost Pema and all I could do was cry. I had let my anger and my pain control me, Zuko. I had let it burn a fiery path of destruction from the gates of the Fire Palace to the gates of the Earth Palace and everything in between had been incinerated.

"I had caused my own pain and fury to sink into the hearts of all who loved anyone lost before my army. Like a brand new bender new to his flame and lacking control, I had let the fire get away from me and it had transformed everything I knew into something ugly and unrecognisable. It had destroyed the things that I loved just as surely as it destroyed my enemies. And I just… couldn't go on. I pulled my army back from the city – evacuated them out of Ba Sing Se overnight and marched them all home to be with their mothers. I took my Lu Ten home to bury him and I learned while I was travelling there, what had become of Azulon and I learned of Ozai's treachery. I learned what had become of your mother and I realised that in my quest for revenge, I had lost everything that mattered to me. My wife was gone. My son was gone. My father was gone. My brother had betrayed me and proved himself a monster who'd been willing to kill his own son just to steal my throne. Only your mother's intervention saved you, my nephew, and only you remained that still mattered to me.

"My prestige as a War General was despoiled by my weakness and my pain. My throne usurped, my crown stolen, my loved ones dead and my brother, a murderous traitor," Iroh shook his head. "I confess that for a while after that I simply wallowed in my pain and my bitterness. I drank too much and I sought solace between the legs of every woman within a five mile radius of the palace. I was content to fade from memory and to turn my own destructive nature upon myself until there was nothing left, right up until a war meeting when my young and naïve nephew spoke out of turn, exclaiming over the horror of sending untrained boys to die as cannon fodder, betrayed by their Nation."

Zuko's eyes were fixed on him, his brow deeply furrowed, his mouth frowning heavily.

"You were so young," Iroh shook his head, lifting a careful hand to rest against Zuko's scarred cheek, surprised when the boy didn't flinch back or pull away – never liking to be touched there. "So innocent and so outraged. Your father heard only innocence and felt only embarrassment and fury that you could be so human to recognize green recruits as people and not pawns. The other generals heard only the whine of a child, too young and too innocent to understand the tactics of war. I heard myself as a boy, before my bitterness and loss. Before my fiery rise and fall from grace. I heard Pema, that bright happy voice crying out in outrage at the ill treatment of anyone, Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom or Water Tribe citizen, alike. I heard Lu Ten, his impassioned pledges to protect his country and lead his men with honour and dignity. And I heard you, Zuko. Just a boy who still thought of people as people, not as peasants or nobles, not as us and them, not even as soldiers, really. To you in that moment they were boys just like you, brave and willing to fight for their Nation. In that moment you embodied our entire Nation and the outrage they should and would feel to know that their Fire Lord didn't care about them, that he would use them as nothing but fresh meat to distract the dogs of war."

Zuko nodded, brow still furrowed.

"You gave me hope, nephew. In a time when I'd lost all hope and stopped caring about anything except how best to end my own existence," Iroh confessed quietly, tracing his thumb along the outline of Zuko's scar and staring into his nephew's eyes. "Like the sun rising over the horizon at the end of a dark and scary night, you were suddenly there, shining bright. The hope of the world – a boy in line for the thrown without a taste for blood and without a yearning to crush his enemies like bugs underfoot. And when your Father pushed you, playing with you like a cat with a mouse and you fell into his trap and into his challenge for Agni Kai, I hoped against hope that he would be merciful. I'd forgotten, by then, that he'd been willing to kill you for his crown and that he thought you nothing but an embarrassment who refused to learn to be as ruthless as himself or your sister. Had I known he planned to fight you himself, I'd have smuggled you out of the palace before you could face him, no matter your protests."

"You got me out of there before he could do more than burn my face," Zuko said quietly.

"I did," Iroh nodded. "And I had to break the news to this bright spark of a prince that his father didn't want him. I had to watch you fizzle, a spark in a thunderstorm, drenched and extinguished as rage and pain overtook you, just as it had overtaken me when I lost Pema. I have feared for you, my nephew. Our quest for the Avatar seemed hopeless and I prayed that any distraction would help to deter you from your wish to return home – that you might see, eventually, that Ozai would not accept you back, for if he'd planned on it he'd not have charged you with so ridiculous a task – and I wondered if you would ever realise that your honour was not his to take, for he had sacrificed his own so long ago."

"And I was a whiny jerk about it for five years," Zuko said bitterly, looking away, frowning even more.

"You were," Iroh chuckled. "A dirk-tongued, cruel, whiny, petulant brat who spoke to others with such hatred and cruelty that I was hard-pressed to keep from smacking you silly myself many a day."

"Enjoyed your separation from me a little, didn't you?" Zuko chuckled darkly, once again showing his growing maturity when he laughed over the insults, rather than immediately growing offended and flying into a fiery rage.

"No," Iroh said quietly. "I worried every day that the bright and shining hope for the world you still could be would be buried under layers of snow even deeper than it was buried under anger and pain and betrayal. I feared I would find you bloodied, thirsty for violence and death when you learned how hard it was to be alone in this world and how difficult it is to be a fugitive on the run from the Fire Nation."

Zuko's eyes lifted to his once more, his expression unreadable.

"I was bloodied. Broken, too," he confessed. "I'd have been captured that day and hauled back to the palace for execution or imprisonment if it weren't for Katara's intervention. I was tired. I'd had enough of the cold. My Fire was going out."

Iroh nodded his understanding, a sad smile pulling at his lips before he glanced toward Katara where she continued bending in the river. She'd melted the ice once more, heedless of the cold as she created waves and surfed as though she were at the beach, oblivious to their painful discussion. She was smiling and revelling in her element, full of life and power and happiness despite being separated from her family, robbed of her mother, and hurled into the heart of the war.

"I feared you would lose that Fire, my nephew," Iroh murmured, looking back at him. "Imagine my surprise when instead I found you not alone and covered in the blood of our enemies, but instead in the arms of a pretty girl – a Waterbender, no less. Imagine my shock at seeing you alight and glowing like the sun at midday, glittering like dragon-fire, rather than surrounded by darkness as you had been since your banishment."

Zuko's mouth pulled up at one side, a crooked, half-smile.

"Imagine my fear," Iroh went on. "To see you once again repeating my mistakes, only in reverse. You'd fallen into darkness and rage and hate, as surely as I had done. And there you were, falling into the arms of a pretty non-Fire Nation girl who could break your heart and rip what's left of your Fire right from your chest to burn the whole world."

"And yet you're warning me away from her," Zuko pointed out, glancing toward Katara too.

"I am," Iroh confessed. "Knowing what you now know of my past, I wonder how you see her, nephew. When you look at that pretty girl, what do you see?"

Zuko turned to face Katara fully, Iroh's hand falling from his cheek as the boy critically eyed the pretty young woman. He was quiet as he watched her, and Iroh watched her too. When he looked at Katara, Iroh saw both a blessing and a terrible weapon. He saw both the key to Zuko's success and the key to his undoing. He saw danger and he saw pain that he didn't want his nephew to feel, but he also saw happiness and kindness and friendship and love. He could see hope just as surely as he saw despair.

He waited in silence for Zuko to tell him what he saw, a little smile pulling at his mouth when Katara attempted to make some kind of water scooter for herself, the likes of which Iroh had seen the Avatar make out of air on occasion. She attempted to leap up and sit on the rapidly spinning ball of water and she was immediately flung away, bellyflopping into the river with a slap. She came up spluttering and coughing, her lopsided hair plastered to her face and her eyes narrowed in annoyance with herself for not getting the trick on the first go.

Zuko's huff of amusement was barely audible, but Iroh heard it and he waited on tenterhooks for Zuko's answer.

"I see the moon," the boy said finally.

"The moon?" Iroh asked, his brow furrowing.

Zuko nodded. "Something sweet and seemingly innocuous with extraordinary power that can hurl the whole world into chaos. At the North Pole when Zhao murdered the moon spirit, it threw the ocean into a furious frenzy. She has both the power to control the ocean, and to soothe it. She is powerful and if she chose she could turn on the world with devastating effect, Uncle. She's beautiful and bright and always there, ever changing yet constant. She's the light that keeps the darkness at bay even after the sun has set."

Iroh nodded thoughtfully, eyeing the girl a moment longer before glancing sideways at his nephew. His eyes were still fixed on Katara and his brow was furrowed, his amusement at her antics fading away the longer he looked.

"But if she's the moon," Zuko whispered. "And it's my duty to be the sun, then I suppose I have my answer. Forever linked, but destined to chase each other across the sky, far apart for the good of the world."

Iroh's lips twitched.

"Perhaps that's true," he agreed. "But do not forget, my nephew, sometimes the sun and the moon come together, passing one another amid their endless dance. And when they do the sight is so glorious that the whole world stops to watch."

With a gentle pat to the boy's shoulder, Iroh rose to his feet, shuffling away intent on returning to bed and leaving Zuko to the night and his thoughts while the blissfully unaware Waterbender took another swan dive under the water as she flew off her water-scooter once more.