"Hey, stranger. Been a long while since I've loved you or anything. How the times have changed; distorted, a figure set in trend, emotionless. And the words lose all their means…" Here to Mars, Coheed and Cambria
After Aang's funeral, she doesn't see Zuko for another two years. They exchange a few letters, but she understands that he's a busy man. She finds that there's a hole in her life, one that had been small, but persistent, when Aang was alive, but is now yawning open, and she feels herself falling into its maw. She had always felt like there was something (someone) missing from her life, ever since the day she left the Fire Nation after Zuko's coronation. She's denied it for so long, pushed it back and back, so far into the recesses of her mind that she could almost forget it sometimes. But now that she's alone so much, now that she doesn't have her children or Aang to keep her mind occupied, the unforgotten feelings crawl unbidden to the forefront, undeniable in their nature, and unbearable in their intensity. So, after a long and lonely two years, she writes to Zuko, asking him to come and pay her a visit.
He is no less beautiful than he was when they were younger. Yes, his previously shiny black hair is thin and white, and his face is lined with the evidence of his years, but the brightness of his eyes and the warmth in his smile is the same as ever. She breaks down when he holds her upon his arrival, the true reason for her upset something she's kept locked away for too many years to let it out of it's safebox now. She figures that he assumes that she's sad about Aang, which she is. But beneath that, beneath the hurt and anger and loss that Aang's death had wrought upon her, there's something else that tears at her heart.
The annual celebration of the end of the war swirls around them, his hand warm against the small of her back as they spin and twirl around the dance floor. His eyes sparkle, the warm lanterns reflecting in his golden eyes. His eyes don't leave hers the whole time they dance; she wouldn't— couldn't— look away, not even if the world was burning around them.
She tells him almost everything; about how absent Aang had been, how he had favored one of his children above the rest, how she wishes that she wasn't angry at him for it. She tells him some of her deepest secrets; that she had always held a wink of resentment that she ended up just a housewife for Aang, how she had been jealous of all the attention he got up until the very end, how she so wished that he would have given her the same attention in return.
Zuko listens silently, his warm hand rubbing her back in a soothing up and down motion as she cries. She appreciates the comfort that is carried in the quiet, broken only by the sounds of her sobs and sniffles. As her tears slow, he pulls her gently into him, cradling her head to his chest, and she tries her hardest to memorize the feeling of his body, knowing that he'll have to leave her again soon, as always.
The rice wine is smooth and plentiful, their glasses filling more than a few times that night. The others have drifted off, either to bed or to socialize more, but Katara doesn't care about that. What she cares about is the handsome man in front of her, the warm calloused hand cradling her cheek, and the other held tightly in her own between their chests.
"Some day, Katara..." he presses a feather light kiss to her forehead, and she closes her eyes to brand this moment into her memory. "Some day, we can be together."
His hand holds her face now just as it did then, the deja vu a cruel irony as he ghosts his lips on her forehead, the wrinkles and fine lines fading away as her eyes close, the warm light of lanterns flashing behind her eyes. She wants to tell him so badly that her chest aches. That love that she felt all those years ago had never faded, and she'd lived with it every moment of her life, holding it close to her chest and hoping, praying that he was doing the same.
He promises to return, their farewell hallmarked by tears and a tight embrace. He holds her hand until the very last moment, the years stretching between their fingers as he walks away. He holds her gaze, even as he mounts his dragon, and she thinks she sees pain on his face as the beast rises gracefully into the air and fades into the distance.
"I hate this, Zuko." She can't hold back her tears, her voice choked up and thick.
"I know." The pad of this thumb swipes across her cheek, brushing away the evidence of her affection. "I know."
She doesn't want to kiss him; at least, that's what she tells herself. It's the wine and the warm air and his sunrise eyes, that's why she does it. She doesn't admit to herself for a long time that she left a piece of her heart back in the royal palace that night. But for now, in this moment, she lifts up onto her toes and captures his lips in hers, tasting wine and salt as they both mourn the love that they'll never get to share.
Zuko makes sure to visit at least once a year after that, and she awaits his return as if he's the sun and she's waiting for the endless night of the South Pole to break. They share all their stories during those visits, telling each other of the lives that they've led, ignoring the wishes of the lives that could have been.
He writes to her years later, telling her that he's planning to give up his throne to his only daughter within the coming months. She's never felt so light, her heart flitting around in her chest like a sparrowkeet that's just been let out of it's cage. He writes to tell her that he'll be coming to visit soon after he drops the title of Fire Lord, and she waits with bated breath.
The memory of their love burns into her skin, the bliss of the one night they had together seared into her memory for the rest of her days. She vows to never forget how her name rolls over his lips, to never forget the sugar-sweet words he had whispered into her ear while they showed each other their love.
"When all this is over," the words wrapped around her ear like a silk ribbon, "when I can leave the Fire Nation for good, we'll be together. I promise."
She doesn't vow to remember the pain in his eyes when she has to say goodbye the next day, but it follows her like a shadow regardless, lurking around every corner, hiding within every crevice of her mind. She hides her sorrow well, and if Aang notices, he doesn't say. She doesn't think he pays enough attention to notice her gaze lingering on Zuko while they say their goodbyes, but she knows her friends do.
Silk wasn't meant to wrap wounds, and her love bleeds through for years.
She watches the sky for hours, her weathered heart picking up pace in her chest when she sees the red spot in the sky grow into a serpentine shape. The dragon lands in the same spot it always does, the spot well loved over the recent years. Zuko wastes no time coming to her, his agility belying his old age as he dismounts and moves swiftly towards her. There's no room for words, no space for excuses between their lips when they meet, years of longing and loneliness pouring out of them and into each other.
"Come with me." His voice is ribbon wrapping around her ear.
"Yes," she breathes, a sigh that carries the weight of all their years apart.
Instead of using the ribbon to bandage a wound, she helps him wrap it around her neck, their love encapsulated in the stone resting in the hollow of her throat.
She leaves the snow and ice behind, uncaring where the future takes her, as long as Zuko is by her side.