Hello! I have returned with another chapter!

I did end up taking a little longer with this one (2 days?) because I had a lot to squeeze in. I hope it's not too much!

I would like to thank the lovely, beautiful souls that have taken the time to share their thoughts with me and leave a review! I tear up every time I see that someone has left a review on this story :')

For some reason this story still isn't getting the same reception as my other when and I can't quite figure out why... maybe people prefer fix-its? Either way, that just makes every reader and reviewer all the more precious to me, so thank you guys for melting my heart and inspiring me to continue writing!

This chapter is inspired by another Florence + The Machine song called 'Mother' from their 2015 album 'How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful'

I hope you enjoy! (:

Chapter 9: Mother

…

Can you protect me from what I want?

The love I let in, it left me so lost

…

Mother, make me

Make me a big grey cloud

So I can rain on you things I can't say out loud

Mother, make me

Make me a bird of prey

So I can rise above this, let it fall away

…

Oh lord, won't you leave me

Leave me on my knees

Cause I belong to the ground now

And it belongs to thee

…

The snow was disorienting, obscuring the horizon in all directions so the world was lost in white. It wasn't an unnerving feeling like it should have been, being lost in the blizzard. Katara couldn't feel the stinging of the frigid wind on her cheeks nor the ache in her fingertips from the cold. There was something here, she knew – something she was searching for. Answers. Release.

Her feet led her through the whiteness as she squinted against the blowing snow. Despite the low visibility, she could make out a figure ahead of her, a ghostly gray shadow – a crude silhouette of a woman. As she approached, detail came into view. She was dressed in a blue parka, singed at the hem, her long, dark hair whipping in the wind.

Katara! Where are you?

I'm here! Her voice was distant, drowned out by the howling blizzard.

The woman turned, a relieved smile on her face and Katara immediately recognized her mother.

Katara, I was so worried! I thought you were lost.

She paused. I am lost, mom.

Her mother's eyes were warm, juxtaposing the cold haze that surrounded them, like light reflecting on the surface of the ocean at sunset. She held out her arms, walking towards Katara.

No, you're not. You're right where you are supposed to be.

A sudden cold washed over her and the blizzard faded into memory.

…

The warm breath on his neck stirred him. Though his eyes were still closed, he could tell that it was already light out. Zuko had never slept past sunrise. The fire in his core was burning, as it always did in the mornings, but it was not the usual leaping blaze that roused him as it coursed through his veins. It was a pleasant warmth, the soft glow of a welcoming hearth that felt like home. It didn't rouse him, it comforted him like a mother's touch. He wanted to remain in this state, between slumber and waking, forever.

It was the slight movement and the breathy moan next to him that finally roused him. Confused, he squinted into the daylight entering the tent through the loose flap that was steadily dancing in the breeze. His gaze was met with soft dark hair that smelled of wood smoke and morning dew. Eyes widening in recognition, memories from the previous night flooded his mind. The waterbender – Katara – was curled against him, her face nestled into the junction between his neck and chest, and his arm was draped over her. He froze, paralyzed by the proximity and fear of waking her.

She had cried last night. Whether it was for him, memories of her loss, or both, he didn't know, but her tears had awoken something in him. It was a feeling of closeness and understanding – a sort of empathy and acceptance that filled a void he didn't know was there. He hadn't been thinking when he went to her, it was instinct that had compelled him to move. It was like nothing he had ever felt before and it scared him.

He had to move. He had to get away from her before she woke up. Coercing his body into action, he gently lifted the arm that rested over her waist and propped himself up on one elbow. She shifted at his movement, a slight crease forming between her brows as her eyelids twitched, long dark lashes tickling her cheekbones. He paused again, holding his breath. When she had settled once more, he slowly pulled his body away, wincing at the sudden cold that flowed between them.

Sapphire eyes flew open, meeting his own. For a lingering moment, they stared at each other, neither moving nor saying a word. Then she blinked rapidly, expelling the grogginess. In an instant, her face was turning shades of red. Zuko swallowed a lump in his throat. As if rehearsed, they simultaneously turned away from each other, gasping for breath like someone had just sloshed ice cold water over them. She was on her feet quicker than he thought possible, darting out into the blinding daylight.

…

Breathing was suddenly an arduous task. Her heart was hammering in her chest, drumming in her ears. Her senses were being overwhelmed and she reached out for something to support her, to hold herself upright. She was sure she was about to topple over when her palm connected with the bark of a nearby tree.

She had woken up right next to the Prince of the Fire Nation. He had been watching her with those dangerously alluring golden eyes of his while she slept. Katara remembered the previous night clearly, much to her chagrin. Why she had willingly sought comfort from Zuko and why she had been so intent on comforting him, she couldn't say. In that moment, it had felt right – like the only thing to do. The heat in her cheeks returned when her mind drifted to all the blissful sensations that suddenly felt like sins in the light of day; the feel of his bare skin against hers as she nuzzled into his chest, his breath tickling her collar bone as he rested his head on her shoulder, and the pressure of his hot hand against her lower back, pulling her into him.

The heat in her face receded as she focused on breathing, filling up her lungs and holding in the air to slow her rapid heart-rate. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the violent sunlight, and noticed Iroh sitting next to the campfire, staring at her with a slack jaw.

"Miss Katara," He said, at length, "Are you-"

"Yes, yes, I am fine," She waved absently, her tone shrill, "I'm just- erm… going to go for a walk."

A curious expression passed over the old man's face before he nodded and smiled, "I think there is a river about 200 paces to west," he pointed, "That might make for a nice morning stroll."

"That sounds lovely," she awkwardly returned his smile, "Thank you."

It took all her willpower not to break into a run until she was out of view. Then, she was sprinting through the trees. It took her no time at all to reach the river and she splashed into it at full speed. The water was quite deep – it was much bigger than the trickling stream they had been at the morning before – and she let out a relieved sigh as it lapped at her waist. Content with her element flowing around her, she submerged her head and let the water run it's swirling fingers through her hair, tugging it gently downstream. She thought of the dream she had been having – of her mother's hair whipping with the wind. Reflexively, she reached for her neck to graze the pendant of the blue necklace that had once belonged to her and was overwhelmed with sorrow when she remembered she had lost it.

"Have I lost you, mom?" She asked the air.

"Will I ever see you again?" She asked the water.

After that fateful, tragic day, Gran Gran had told a young Katara that her mother's spirit still lived on. Tying the necklace around Katara's neck, she had said that souls were bound to those they loved. Inferring this meant that the necklace contained some piece of her mother's soul, Katara had taken to touching it and talking to her. Over time, it had become a habit, something she did for comfort, even though she grew to know it was folly.

"I need you to tell me what to do," She told the trees as she flopped back into the river.

'You're right where you are supposed to be…' whispered the water flowing around her.

Give me strength, she thought, to be true to myself.

…

When Zuko looked down, he grimaced at the tightening of his pants. He was suddenly relieved that Katara had been the one to leave so abruptly, hoping she didn't feel or see anything. He cursed his body for being so perverse; it took him a while to calm down.

When he finally came outside, he was greeted by his uncle and a cup of tea. Iroh was dismantling his tent, humming one of the songs Zuko so often heard on "music nights" aboard his ship.

"Good morning, Prince Zuko," his Uncle smiled, "I've never known you to sleep in so late."

Zuko turned so the unmarred side of his face, that he felt reddening under the scrutiny, was hidden from the old man. "Morning, Uncle," He mumbled, deciding not to justify his Uncle's comment with a response, "Have you seen Ka- the waterbender?"

"Yes, she left on a walk shortly after getting up," Iroh replied, seeming not to notice his slip.

"I see," He tried to keep his voice emotionless. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to see her for a while; Zuko was not at all excited about having to confront her regarding their recent interaction. Her reaction to waking up so close to him that morning had been unnerving and he wondered if she regretted confiding in him.

"Well, we should probably be ready to leave by the time she gets back," He decided, moving to dismantle his own tent.

Iroh nodded, but Zuko noticed the sidelong glance the old General gave him.

…

Katara rode at the back of the cavalcade alongside Iroh. She had been avoiding Zuko since the morning. Her feelings toward the banished Fire Nation Prince had recently gotten very complicated. Not long ago, she had been intent on killing him; now, she wasn't quite sure how she felt. By no means was she ready to forgive him for anything, but she couldn't muster the same animosity towards him as she had before. He seemed suddenly more human. She didn't like him and was certainly still wary of him. At the end of the day, she knew nothing had changed; he continued to hold her captive and planned on capturing Aang. It was easier to hate him, though, when she thought he was a monster, but she was beginning to realize that people are more complicated than that. He was not simply a vessel for evil.

It had been three days since their departure from Omashu – she was intent on keeping count just in case she was able to plot a successful escape. Based on the sun's position throughout their journey thus far, they were heading south-southwest through the forest that stretched alongside the eastern boundary of the great mass of sand that she had previously noticed on Aang's map – the Si Wong Desert.

Katara had been using her time in the saddle to consider her escape. The best way to save Aang from capture was for her to elude the Prince and find her friends before he could, she had decided. The task was much easier said than done, though. They had stuck to the woods thus far, traveling through remote areas that Katara had no knowledge of and, with only the memory of a map to guide her, she doubted that escaping into the forest – only to get lost – would do her much good in this endeavor. She would have to be patient and wait for the right moment, hoping that she would be able to identify that moment when it presented itself. They would need to be close to a village, large enough for her to obtain transportation to where she might find her friends, if need be.

Katara thought of them again, her companions, missing each one of them in turn. She missed her brother and his terrible jokes, his somewhat offensive and misguided comments about the fairer sex, and how his snoring sounded like a herd of buffalo yaks in the spring. She missed Aang and his bright, toothy smile, his obsession with riding strange and dangerous creatures across the world, and his magnanimous soul. She missed Suki and her quick tongue, sparring Sokka with both words and fists, her ability to inspire confidence in Katara when she felt weak, and the way she turned every obstacle into a lesson. She would get back to them soon, Katara reminded herself.

…

Zuko eyed the map and glanced up at the sky, gauging the position of the sun. It was mid-afternoon and they had been making surprisingly good progress towards where his ship would be anchored off the coast. If they kept up this pace, he judged, they would make it to the edge of the swamp in another four days and would arrive at the fishing village – where they would receive transport back to his ship – in seven. That would allow more than enough time for him to make his way over to the rendezvous point and set his trap for the Avatar.

Quite pleased with himself, he turned to the procession at his back and announced, "This is a good place to stop for the night. Set up camp over there." The soldiers followed his gesture and slid off their mounts to start unpacking the rhinos' saddlebags.

Katara and Iroh, at the very end of the cavalcade, also slipped out of their saddles, guiding the beasts towards the trees. Zuko had been thinking about how he would deal with the waterbender all day. After hours of avoiding each other, he thought he might be ready to finally address the elephant mandrill in the room. He would have to gain her trust, at least some of it, and while she had not responded well to their interaction that morning, he did realize that opening up to her had struck a chord. In the space of 24 hours, she had gone from trying to kill him in his sleep to willingly clinging to him like her life depended on it – something that he could use to his advantage in obtaining her compliance.

As the soldiers were working on assembling his tent, he rustled through their supplies and grabbed the water skin before walking over to Katara. She was sitting against a tree, braiding grass and looking bored. She didn't look up at him when he approached.

"I was thinking," Zuko started, "That I haven't been able to do much training since before Omashu. Normally I train every day-"

"Have fun," Katara interjected, obviously still trying to avoid him.

Zuko scowled at her curt response, nearly turning around and giving up on the idea, but he didn't. Instead, he unceremoniously dropped the water skin between them. Her eyebrow shot up in surprise when her eyes caught sight of the skin lying in the long yellow grass.

"My… water skin," She reached for it, "I thought it was still in the dungeons under Omashu." It was then that she finally met his gaze, if only briefly. He knew he was still scowling, but didn't know what else to do. Katara took the water skin into her lap and ran her hands over the sleek leather surface, examining it like she thought it might be a fake.

At length, she looked up at him again, her eyes watery like the ocean, and said in almost a whisper, "Thank you."

…

Katara was surprised at his gesture. It was genuinely kind – something she hadn't thought him capable of being, particularly if it was of no benefit to him. He had gotten someone to collect her water skin from the dungeons before they left Omashu and now he was giving it back to her… Why? Was this his way of apologizing for what happened this morning? She was confused, but pleased; wondering how big – or small – the soft spot in his heart was.

He looked away, not responding to her thanks. In the moments that followed, she hugged the water skin to her chest and smiled in spite of herself.

"It was a gift from my grandmother," She said by way of explanation, "She made it and gave it to me before we left the South Pole. I didn't think I would see it again."

"So you'll train with me?" He asked, his eyes still fixed on the forest around them.

"Yes," Katara replied, "I could do with some more practice."

As he turned towards the woods, she got to her feet to follow, strapping the water skin around her waist. They walked through the forest in silence, not looking at each other. After a while, she decided it was time to say something – to attempt to address the awkwardness of the morning.

"Look-" He was starting to say as she also spoke.

"I'm-" She stopped, realizing that he was trying to say something.

They just stared at each other, waiting for the other once to continue. She sighed.

"I'm sorry that I… suggested you did something terrible to get banished." She paused, "I didn't realize…"

"Don't." He interjected, "It's in the past."

After another drawn out silence, he sighed, "I'm… sorry about what happened… to your mother. That's something we have in common – well, sort of."

"What do you mean?"

"I lost my mother too," He turned his face away from her, "When I was seven."

Katara was quiet for a moment. This was something she hadn't expected and didn't know how to react – the part of her that had rushed to comfort him last night was stirring, but she squashed it decisively.

"Do you mind me asking… how it happened?" Her voice was nearly a whisper.

"I don't know exactly. It was around the time my grandfather - Fire Lord Azulon - died and my father was crowned. But no one would ever tell me anything."

"So she just… disappeared?"

"Yeah, one day I woke up and she was gone," His hands tightened into fists. "After a while it seemed like she had never even been there in the first place... like everyone had just forgotten her."

"I'm sorry, Zuko," She reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but refrained. Her arm stayed suspended in the air for a moment before dropping back to her side, awkwardly.

"Don't be. She lived a horrible life in the palace. There was always a sadness in her eyes... She's at peace now." The words felt like a mantra, something that he had repeated many times to himself in the darkest of nights.

"But I'm sure she was happy to have you with her," Katara said, almost cringing at the emptiness of her words. Comforting people was always something she had excelled in – she was perceptive, empathetic and nurturing – it came naturally to her. But restraining herself like this made it feel awkward and forced, like she couldn't say what she meant, she couldn't reach out to him and comfort him physically with a reassuring touch, a hug. Instead, she just bit her lip, trying to think of how to change the subject.

"Either way," She added in, abruptly, "I think what you did- standing up for your people like that- was… honorable. You shouldn't have been banished for it."

Zuko glanced back at her, clearly surprised by the admission. His normally vexed expression faded as his unscarred eyebrow rose and his amber eyes softened. She averted her gaze to some trees on her left. It looked like they were approaching a clearing and she was looking forward towards the reprieve. Before he could say anything in response, she pointed ahead.

"This clearing up here looks like a good spot to train."

…

There was a burbling creek running alongside the clearing, which was good because she would likely have to fill up her water skin a couple times as it vaporized from his fire.

Katara was in a bending stance before him, uncorking her water skin.

"Just try to block my attacks this time," He said, "If we actually spar, you'll just get hurt and I won't get any practice."

She rolled her eyes and scowled at him, but replied, "Fine, Your Highness."

Zuko decided to work on a form that Iroh had showed him when they were still aboard his ship. It was a complicated form that concluded with a series of kicks – a swing hook followed by jumping double sidekicks then a flaming axe kick before ending with a tornado and a butterfly kick; maintaining balance at the end of the form was the trick. It was a fiery, mobile offensive that was intended to force an opponent backward or knock them off balance. He would go easy on Katara, though.

"I'm going to practice a form. I'll go slowly at first so you can learn what to expect."

She nodded, eyebrows knit in preparation above the fire that sparked in her bright eyes.

Zuko took his stance and started with a sequence of punches, interspersed by double and back-kicks, moving painfully slow. With each blast of flame, Katara danced, bringing water up to block it. As he neared the end, he reminded himself of restraint and tried to slow the progression of the final series of kicks.

She blocked the swing hook, stepping backwards, then stumbled to block the jumping double side kicks, narrowly avoiding the second rapid burst of fire as she lost her balance and fell backwards. He moved into the flaming axe-kick, but stopped from bringing his foot down when he saw her on the ground, eyes widening.

"What the hell? I thought you said you were going to go slow the first time!" She yelled as she pulled herself up, brushing the dust off her clothes.

He sighed, bringing his hand to his face to squeeze the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "That was slow. I can't go any slower than that without breaking my stance between each kick."

She crossed her arms and hmphed at him, but conceded, "Ok, fine. Just show me the last couple kicks so I know what to expect."

"Ok, I'll do the whole form first just to show you. But I'm going at full-speed this time," He smirked.

Katara nodded, stepping aside to watch.

Zuko started the form again, maintaining his composure through the first series of punches and kicks. In the corner of his eye, he could see Katara's eyebrows climbing her forehead at the speed and sheer power of his movements and the fire that exploded from his body. When he progressed into the final sequence, the series of rapid spinning and jumping kicks, she stepped backwards from the flames. Zuko finished the form and turned to look at her.

She was staring at him with a slack jaw, "How am I supposed to block that?"

He sighed, "You have to learn how to read your opponent's movements – how they shift their weight, maintain their balance – and anticipate their next attack."

The look Katara was giving him was one that would be given to a three-headed ostrich horse as it crawled out from under a bed; a mix of horror, consternation, and interest.

Zuko sighed again, "Ok, look. When I shift my weight to this foot – like when I do double sidekicks –" He showed her, pointing to his stance by way of explanation, "You should be preparing to block rapid blasts from a closer distance. Or avoid them if necessary. See how my balance shifts?"

"Ok," She nodded, eyeing his stance and stepping up towards him, "Do it." Her lip curled into a mischievous smile at the reference to the words he had spoken to her two nights ago and he scowled back.

Katara watched him closely as he fell back into his stance and threw a punch then the double sidekick towards her. She pulled her element from the water skin at her waist and avoided the flames from the punch, then doused the fiery double sidekicks in rapid succession, keeping her eyes on his feet. Then, she smiled at him in triumph.

Zuko fought not to smile back, but couldn't help the smirk that played across his lips, "Better."

"Better? That was perfect." She teased, patting herself on the back, "Let's do it again."

They continued like this for hours; Zuko showing her each set in the form, indicating how she should read each movement, and then her blocking them, one at a time. The sun was creeping towards the horizon as Katara went to the creek to refill her water skin for the third time. When she came back, she was looking at the sky, still breathing heavily.

"It'll be sunset in about an hour," She noted, "I want to try the whole thing again, from the start."

"The whole form?" He asked her.

"Yeah, you've just been teaching me. Like you said, you aren't getting much practice."

"I've been working on perfecting the movements, focusing on my balance." He replied defensively.

Katara rolled her eyes at his tone, "Ok, well, that's good," She paused, "But I think I've got it down. I want to try it all together."

Zuko shrugged, "Ok, tell me when to start."

"Full-speed." She said to him, taking her stance.

"What? Are you sure?"

She just nodded, already prepared to start with her eyes focusing on his body.

It was a striking display, an exquisitely dramatic dance of fire and water; each blast that he sent towards her with his abrupt, quick movements, she swayed, skipped, and spun, sending water out to meet the flames. He was watching her move, surprised at how quickly she was catching on and how she had been able to put everything together with such ease. The flames in her eyes grew with increasing ferocity at each blast that she blocked. Loose hair clung to her forehead and cheeks from perspiration and her chest was heaving. She was beautiful; elegantly wielding her element, moving with a smooth flow like the water itself. He noticed she was much lighter on her feet than she had been that first time at the South Pole and marveled at how skillful she was becoming in such little time.

They were nearing the end of the form and Zuko felt a tinge of sadness that the dance would soon end. He moved into the sequence of kicks that concluded the form; she doused the swing hook with ease, holding the water steady, then stretching it upwards to block the jumping double sidekicks. She sent a stream of water above her to block the forceful power of the fiery axe kick. Zuko moved into the tornado kick and, still watching her, leaned into it farther than he had intended, throwing off his balance. As Katara blocked the fiery blast, he tried to compensate for his imbalance and forced himself into the butterfly kick to end the form. The flames arced higher than they had previously and slightly to the side. Katara's eyes widened as she moved, desperately trying to pull the water to protect her. With a scream, she threw up her hands and fell backwards.

Zuko's heart dropped through the ground, eyes widening in horror as he ran to her – she had caught the fire with her hands, throwing them up to block her face. Dread and shame filled him, a feeling worse than anything. He had burned her and if she hadn't fallen backwards and blocked her face, he might have unwillingly subjected her to the same fate that his father had subjected him to all those years ago. She was curled in a ball, cradling her burnt hands against her chest, trembling when he reached her.

"Katara! Shit," He crouched, reaching out to her hands to get a better look, but she snapped.

"Don't touch me!" She screamed, like a coyote-cat in the night, her voice shrill from pain and shock.

"Katara, I-"

"Get away from me!" She cried, swiping at him, then wincing in pain. He fell backwards, staring at her in shock.

This was his nightmare. It couldn't be reality. His scar tingled and the smell of burnt flesh filled his nose. This was something he would never be able to forgive himself for – for scarring her soft, smooth skin – even if it had been an accident. Tears filled her eyes as she scrambled up and rushed to the water to soak her burned hands.

Then, he was overcome with rage.

…

Katara struggled to get to her feet without using her hands for support. Her palms were bright red and blistering, searing with an intense, constant pain. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she stumbled towards the creek. She had left Zuko behind, slumped on the ground in shock. When she reached the creek, she all but threw herself to the ground, landing hard on her knees and elbows. Zuko had gotten up behind her and was yelling profanities and roaring from a sudden rage, burning the trees and the grasses at the edge of the clearing.

She cursed herself for not being able to block the attack. It was an accident - it must have been. For a moment, she regretted yelling at him like she did. This wasn't the monstrous Prince of the Fire Nation, son of Fire Lord Ozai. This was Zuko - the banished Prince who stood up for the weak, who had been burned at the hands of his own father for it, who had gone out of his way to return something valuable to her, who lost his mother, and who comforted her when the memories of her own loss had overwhelmed her; he was only human and he was kind. Wasn't he?

How did I let this happen, mom? I'm so lost.

Katara dipped her hands in the creek and winced as the pressure of the flowing water pushed against her blistering palms, but then relaxed as the cold began to soothe her burnt flesh. She belonged to the ground now and decided she never wanted to leave her spot next to the creek; she didn't want to face Zuko, she didn't want to face her friends with these burns, and she never wanted to see her hands again for fear of the memories and her own shame. Just last night she had held him, touched him, sought comfort in him. She had enjoyed it... and he had burned her hands. Breathing heavily and resting her forehead on the ground, she tried to calm herself down. It must have been an accident – he wouldn't hurt her on purpose, would he?

As if in response, the memory of what he said to her the day before surfaced.

Then I'll have to hurt you to convince him...

Suddenly, she wasn't so certain.

Dun dun dun!

Sorry if anyone was hoping for them to start making out or something when they woke up in each others arms... (it was tempting a thought). But there is a time and place for that (I promise!), we just haven't quite got there yet (:

What did you guys think about the scene where Katara talks to water and the trees? Was it too weird? I wasn't intending for her to seem like a crazy person! If anything, I was thinking of Tohru from Fruits Basket talking to the picture of her mom and me talking to my cat named Grandad. You know, personifying nonhuman organisms and inanimate objects... that's not crazy, right?

This chapter took me longer to write than the last few because of the hefty action/training scene at the end - they're so hard to write eloquently! I think I'm getting better... but maybe not.

Please please please let me know what you think! Reviews are keeping me going right now! SRSLY. PLEASE. Even as a guest, please review.

...

I hope everyone is staying healthy and safe!

With love,

A Storm