For the next week or so, a daily game of pai sho (and tea) with Zuko became Katara's new routine. Sometimes he would even join her for a meal. She continued to be surprised that she actually enjoyed their time together, even if half the fun was ribbing him until he started to get mad.

"Zuko! Is that a pout I see?" Katara teased as his face turned sour when she turned the tables on his latest move. She now had a clear line of sight to victory.

"That's Prince Zuko to you, peasant." Zuko bantered without any bite to it, his pout only deepening. He made another move, realizing too late that it was the wrong one.

Katara giggled at his petulant expression. "Well, Prince Zuko, how does it feel to lose to a Water Tribe peasant?" She sipped her tea innocently, ignoring his glower, and moved her next piece forward to cement her advantage. "Hmm. If I let you win, will I get a reward for good behavior?"

Abruptly, the memory of Zuko skimming her lip with his thumb resurfaced. She pushed it down, confused, and darted her eyes to his face to see if he noticed anything.

All of Zuko's concentration remained on the board, however. "Pah! I don't need anyone to let me win. Least of all you. I can still turn this around."

"I'd like to see you try," she retorted.

"How's THIS?" he exclaimed triumphantly, making a bold move. He poured himself another full cup of tea as he waited for her to consider her next move. He did a little bit of firebending to make it hotter, ending up accidentally boiling the liquid.

"No problem. Little did you know, I planned for every contingency," she bluffed, still assessing the board.

The ship lurched suddenly as the helmsman changed direction, scattering some of the pieces out of place. The full cup of boiling tea splashed over onto Zuko's hand.

Scalding pain erupted and he roared.

Flashbacks to his father burning his face flooded his mind. The pain. The humiliation. The moment when he knew he had lost his father's acceptance. The moment he had lost his honor.

"Zuko!" Katara moved toward him in concern, reaching out to him.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled, cradling his hand. It hurt so badly, and the skin was peeling away in several places. He stared at it in horror.

"Maybe… maybe I can help. I can try to help." As Katara spoke to him, it was like he didn't even hear her. "Zuko. Zuko! Let me help. Are you listening?"

He tore his eyes from his hand, finally registering what she was saying. "What are you talking about? Leave me alone!" The immediate pain was subsiding into throbbing but Zuko knew better than to think it was over. With a burn, there was always more pain.

"I… just let me try, okay? I've done it before. Once." Katara opened the teapot, accessing the rest of the lukewarm tea. Zuko watched her suspiciously but no longer recoiled. She continued, "Don't be mad. I'm just going to do a little bit of bending."

Katara called the tea out of the pot. With a layer of water coating her hands, she gently took Zuko's burned hand. He stared at her, not encouraging her but not stopping her either.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling his hand between both of hers. She willed the water to heal him, to find every damaged cell and repair it. To soothe and restore.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, she felt it. The telltale tingling of the water against her skin. Opening her eyes, she saw that the water in her hands was glowing faint blue. She held Zuko's hand tighter, wanting to make sure she healed it all. She wasn't sure if she would be able to call on this ability again at will, completely untrained as she was.

Zuko stared at her in utter astonishment as the water healed his burns. It was cool and relieving, and even the throbbing melted away. The parts of his skin that had peeled away from the flesh now replenished, leaving his skin smooth and unmarred. There would be no scar.

Letting out her breath, Katara looked at his hand and started beaming. "I did it!" She squeezed his hand in excitement.

"That was… I mean… you healed me." Zuko struggled to find words. To see burned flesh repair itself was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. He knew, theoretically, that some waterbenders had healing abilities. But he had never actually met one. Never seen it in action. It was amazing.

"Well. Yeah." Katara smiled self-consciously. Noticing they were still holding hands, she dropped hers. The tea fell from her fingers, making a small puddle on the floor. "I wasn't sure if I could. I've only done it once before. I was cleaning a cut on a child's hand in my village, and… I'm sure you don't care about this story, never mind."

"You helped me. After everything…" He turned his head, unable to look at her. Then, "I wonder." He brought his now-unscathed hand to lightly touch his scar.

"Maybe you could be free of it." Katara ventured, feeling a new bond forming between them.

"What? It's a scar. It can't be healed."

"I could… try."

"No. This scar. It… marks me." He seemed almost to be talking to himself. "The mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever. I'm not free to determine my own destiny. And I'll never be free of my mark." Zuko closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face.

Tears welled in Katara's eyes. She reached up and touched his scar, gently. Seconds passed, and neither of them moved.

A clatter startled them, and they quickly broke apart. Iroh stood at the door, a shocked expression on his face and a tray of food dropped at his feet. Zuko never let anyone touch his scar. Iroh had never seen him look so vulnerable with anyone since the day of the Agni Kai.

Katara wiped her tears with the back of her hand, as Zuko jumped up and fled from the room, saying only, "I have to go."

Iroh let him pass without a word, simply turning a quizzical look on Katara. He coughed. "I am sorry. I seem to have dropped your snacks. If you will excuse me." Bowing, he disappeared from the door.

O – O – O – O – O – O

Katara tossed and turned all night. Sleep would not find her, as she couldn't quiet her wandering thoughts. She thought of Zuko's hand, and the tingling sensation of holding it in her own as the water healed him. The ghost of his touch on her lip. The tortured look on his face as he spoke of his scar. The way it felt soft, like thin parchment, under her fingers when he let her touch it.

The way his lean, hard body had felt between her thighs, back in Kyoshi village. A flush of heat coursed through her.

Tossing again, she tried to drive thoughts of Zuko from her mind. But that was no help. Now, she thought of Aang and Sokka, wondering anxiously if they were okay. It must be some serious spirit trouble to keep them from her for so long.

She thought of her mother, and how much she hated the Fire Nation. And Zuko's face, again.

She drifted into an uneasy slumber.

O – O – O – O – O – O

The next day wore on, and Zuko didn't show up to play pai sho. She wondered if she had offended him; she should have known better than to touch his scar. Now the one thing that was making her imprisonment bearable was gone.

It wasn't until after dinner that he showed up. There was a subtle change in his demeanor, hesitancy peeking through his usual bluster. He stood in the doorway, silent.

"Um. Hi." Katara felt someone had to say something.

"Yes, hello," he said formally.

More silence.

Zuko cleared his throat. "Listen, I need to… thank you. For yesterday. For this." He held up his hand. "I realized, that I never. That I didn't actually... thank you. Yesterday."

"Oh. Well. Ah. You're welcome," she said weakly. She wasn't sure how to react to this new side of Zuko.

"I want to do something for you." Another pause. "You know, as thanks."

"Oh, you don't—"

"I do. I will." He motioned for her to follow him out of the door. "But, uh, don't try anything."

Trotting after him, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"This way." Zuko took a sharp turn down an adjoining hallway, then another turn. Surreptitiously, Katara surveyed her surroundings. All metal. She stayed on alert for anything that might be an opportunity to escape but the hallways were bare and bleak.

O – O – O – O – O – O

Katara gasped with pleasure as they emerged onto the deck of the ship, feasting her eyes on the brilliant night sky that she hadn't seen in weeks. She breathed in deeply; the ocean air was exhilarating. Her hair blew in the wind, seemingly trying to make its own bid for freedom. She basked in the moon shining down on her. It filled her with renewed hope.

Zuko watched as she ran out in front of him.

Spinning happily, she called after him, "What are you waiting for?"

Crossing the deck, he joined her, marveling at how gorgeous she looked. Her blue eyes sparkled in the starlight. The cool bite of the wind turned her cheekbones rosy, flushing her with vivacity. She was truly in her element, surrounded by water and bathed in moonlight, the two essential components of her power as a bender.

He'd never seen anyone so utterly captivating before.

She pulled Zuko to the railing and he let himself be pulled. Together they leaned over to watch the water spray up around the side of the ship. The moon cast a long trail of light through the water, shimmering in the waves. For a moment, she didn't feel like a prisoner at all anymore.

She turned to Zuko, smiling. "Thank you. This was… unexpected."

"But you like it?"

"I do." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply once more, immersing herself in the scent of the ocean and the night. The wind whipped around them and Katara shivered. She was wearing the red one-strap dress and her shoulders were bare.

"You're cold. Here," Zuko said as he shrugged his cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around her. His arms encircled her along with the garment, and he imagined that she leaned into him, just for a moment, before he returned his arms to his sides.

They stood side-by-side at the edge of the ship, admiring the night in silence for some time.

Eventually Katara turned to him, breaking the stillness, "So, how is your hand, anyway?"

He held it up for her inspection. "Good as new."

She took it, twisting it around so she could inspect it from different angles. She was standing very close to Zuko and could feel the heat emanating off him in contrast with the cool night air. He wore a sleeveless vest, cut into a deep V which, without his cloak, managed to show off both his thick, muscular arms and his toned chest.

She fought the impulse to reach out and slide her hands along his chest, caressing him under the fabric of his vest. It felt as though some unseen force was pushing her toward him.

He looked down at her with a soft expression. Her hands still held his, and he felt the urge to snatch her to him. He tilted his face toward hers, wondering what it would feel like to kiss her.

Katara gazed at him, feeling in a trance as his face inched closer to hers. Her heart raced. She could almost feel his lean strength enveloping her.

Then, a gust of wind shook her from her reverie.

Katara abruptly dropped Zuko's hand, stepping back uncertainly. What is coming over me? He is my captor. My enemy. Fire Nation! The Fire Lord's son, of all things. I must be losing my mind. I need to get away from him before I do something I'll regret.

Zuko grimaced as she drew away from him. Stupid of me to have such foolish daydreams. He knew full well that Katara would not be around him if she had any choice, but it still stung to see her pull away like he was a plague-carrier or something. He berated himself, reminding himself that of course she didn't want him—would never want him. She was just biding her time until she could be reunited with the Avatar, his sworn enemy. He wondered what there was between her and the scrawny monk. A surge of jealousy coursed through his veins.

"I—uh. This was, um, nice. But I'm, um, getting tired." Katara stammered.

"Yes." Zuko replied stiffly. "Time to return to your room."