The next morning, Katara wakes up on the couch, her head tilted awkwardly against the backrest, her neck already sore from the strange angle. She groans as she rolls her head, trying to message out the pain as she struggles to remember why she's on the couch in the first place. Oh, right. She had come out here last night after tossing and turning in bed for what felt like hours, hoping to talk to Zuko until she felt sleepy. Apparently it had worked, and she'd fallen asleep right here on the couch. And less than two feet away from her on the other side of the loveseat is Zuko, his head also tilted at an uncomfortable angle, his eyes closed and breaths even with sleep. It must be really early; she knows Zuko wakes up with the sun, but here he is, sleeping peacefully within arms reach.

She studies his face, his full, dark lashes contrasting with his pale skin as they flutter against his cheek. His hair is spilled across his forehead, the strands shiny with a distinct silky look to them. She doesn't think she's ever seen his face relaxed like this, and it makes him look younger, the ghosts of his past shut away behind his eyelids as he dreams. The long line of his neck is exaggerated by the tilt of his head, and his skin looks smooth and soft; she gets the wild urge to touch him, to trail her fingers down his neck to see just how soft it really is, and a deep blush floods her cheeks. Don't be a creep, Katara. His lips are a pretty dusty rose color, and are parted slightly in his sleep. They're a little chapped, the bottom one is just a bit fuller than the top, and that stupid wild urge comes back with fervor. I wonder what it would feel like to—

He inhales deeply and peels his eyes open, the warm golden glow landing on her and sending a shiver up her spine, the haze of sleep softening his gaze into something soft and comforting. Her blush somehow deepens, Zuko's cheeks gaining a faint tinge of pink as well as they look at each other.

"Good morning." She does her best to calm her hyperactive heart when she speaks.

"Good morning." His voice is low and raspier than usual, and it throws her pulse right back into overdrive. "Did you fall asleep out here?"

"Yeah." She's resigned to the fact that her blush isn't going away any time soon, especially if he keeps looking at her with those soft eyes.

"I told you it's not that uncomfortable," he says. He smiles, small and sleepy, and her heart stutters beneath her ribs.

"I guess you were right." He lifts his head from it's unpleasant angle and winces. "Although my neck doesn't necessarily agree with you on that." They both laugh quietly, the early morning light slipping through her window as the sun just begins to rise.

"I'm going to meditate and go through my kata, and then I'll take care of the animals."

"No, I'll handle it this morning. We have to leave soon, so you can just focus on your own stuff and I'll take care of the animals and get breakfast started."

"Are you sure?" She smiles at his question; he's always so eager to help, something she still isn't quite used to.

"Yeah, don't worry about it." Neither of them move for a moment, but eventually she gets up, loath to break the quiet comfort she had found in his presence.

It's particularly warm for early spring, but the fresh air does well to clear her mind, their impending adventure and intimate awakening lingering behind her eyes, persistent and hot. She takes care of the animals quickly, doing her damndest not to stare at Zuko as he goes through his kata with his shirt off. She's seen a man's chest before, Sokka and her father notwithstanding. There had been a scant few people in recent years that had wanted to be close to her, and either out of loneliness or desperation, she had let them in. None had stayed, and she found that she hadn't even wanted them to. But she knows Zuko; he's the only person outside of her family that she's ever known, and his shirtlessness is affecting her more than she'd like to admit.

Breakfast is just about ready when he comes in, and they take their meal in relative silence. The air is saturated with anticipation and nerves, thick with it like a hearty stew. After the meal they sit and drink their tea, at a loss for words before their big adventure, the uncertainty of the near future bittering every sip. The cat jumps on the table per usual, and Katara strokes his soft fur, dreading the moment she has to leave him behind. The hour of their departure approaches faster and faster until suddenly it's upon them, and Sokka, Gran Gran, and Iroh are blowing into the kitchen like a steady breeze. She had said goodbye to her father the day before, knowing that he wouldn't be around this morning to see her off, but his absence is a gaping wound, stinging in the morning air.

"All ready? Did you get enough sleep?" Her brother asks, even though It's probably obvious that she didn't actually get enough sleep. There are dark circles under Sokka's eyes as well, and she has to applaud him for mustering up as much pep as he has.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Her voice and her smile are tired, and she pulls her brother in for a hug, the last one they'll share for a few months at the very least.

"Alright." Iroh lays a small, worn out map on the table. "Sokka, you are to head north and west to the shore, and from there travel to Kyoshi Island. I have a contact here," he points to a small town on the shoreline, "that can get you passage to the island. I will let them know that you are coming. As for you two..." he looks at Katara and Zuko. "You will be heading east to the city of Omashu," he points to a different part of the map, the marker for the city situated on the other side of a mountain range. "I have already sent word to the king that he should be expecting you some time in the near future. If you set a good pace," Iroh rolls up the map and hands it to Sokka. "You should be able to get to Omashu within two months." A pervasive stillness settles in the room before Katara takes a deep breath.

"Well, we better head out. No time like the present, right?" She manages to speak, and Iroh and Gran Gran smile at her false enthusiasm, while Zuko and Sokka simply look at each other and nod.

They say their goodbyes, Katara blinking back tears as she hugs Gran Gran, the older woman rubbing her back soothingly. She kisses Speckle so many times that he gets annoyed with her and jumps out of her arms onto the table, making for a good laugh, even if it's watery. She hugs Sokka again, pressing her face into his broad shoulder.

"Be safe out there, okay?" She nods as they pull apart from each other, and has to dash an errant tear from the corner of her eye.

"Take care of her." Sokka and Zuko shake hands, the latter nodding his head at Sokka's request.

"Of course."

"And if he lays a finger on you—" Sokka points his finger in Katara's face, and she whacks his arm to get him to lower it.

"Sokka!" She flushes red, as does Zuko, at Sokka's comment, their close awakening this morning still fresh in Katara's mind adding to her blush.

"I'm just saying!" He raises his hands in a surrender, and she smacks him in the chest with the back of her hand, smirking at him as they walk towards the door.

They step outside into the crisp morning air, a light breeze ruffling her hair as she looks out at her village, the sun bathing it in a blondish light. She's not sure if she'll miss it; the village itself has never done much for her, but she knows that she'll miss her home and her family. She steels her nerves as she and Zuko head out, walking out of the village in the opposite direction of Sokka, following a worn down dirt road leading eastward. Her home grows smaller and smaller behind them, soon fading away to nothing but a pinprick in the distance. The dirt road winds along through hills and valleys, their feet pounding rhythmically through the open land. They see no other travellers; Katara's village is somewhat remote, and there's really no reason for anyone to visit, so she isn't very surprised at the lack of company.

"How long have you been travelling for?" she asks, wishing desperately to break the silence. Hours of saying nothing and hearing only the birds flying above them is threatening to drive her insane.

"About three years." Zuko keeps his eyes on the road ahead as he answers, even though there's hardly anything to see.

"Why did you leave home?" Darkness falls upon his face, a mix of melancholy and resentment clear in the downturn of his mouth and creases on his forehead.
"It's a long story." He doesn't elaborate, and she feels like it's an issue that she shouldn't push. The silence stretches on, following the curvature of the dusty road as far as the eye can see.

Xx

They make their camp in a small clearing that first night, the sun kissing the horizon line as they set up their tent. There's only one; they had to be sure to travel light, and the small tent was all they could afford to carry. And it is small, so much so that the two of them will most likely be shoulder to shoulder when they lay down to sleep. Katara tries not to think too much into it, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering rambunctiously without a care for her desire for them to settle.

"The fire can't be too big." Zuko looks around the clearing, his bright eyes settling on a patch of trees not too far away. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

"But there's nobody out here." They hadn't seen a single other soul the entire day.

"We can't know that for sure." He digs through his pack and pulls out a small hatchet. "I'm going to get some firewood," he points over to the patch of trees. "Can you finish unpacking?" She nods silently as he walks off, the sound of him hacking branches off of the trees in the distance a broken melody. He returns with arms full of branches, orange and pink splotches hovering in the sky around the sun, a gradient to a deep blue stretching across to the west.

"We can wait until dark to make the fire." He arranges the wood anyway, making a sort of cross-hatch pattern not too far from the tent.

Katara pulls her hair out of it's practical braid, untwisting the strands and combing through it with her fingers. Zuko sits down next to her with a grunt and leans back on his hands, his feet no doubt sore just like hers.

"Sokka said he taught you how to use a short sword?"

"Yeah, but that was a while ago. He wasn't very good when he taught me, but I know the basics."

"Do you want to spar?" She looks over at him, their glowing eyes making contact, the brightness more pronounced in the slowly darkening night. "I could give you some pointers if you want."

"Sure."

They stand and move away from the fire, and Katara takes the sword out of its sheath at her hip.

"Okay, first things first. Your grip isn't right." He comes up close beside her. "You want your wrist to be relaxed and neutral. Imagine the way you'd position it if you were shaking someone's hand; the wrist is in line with the forearm," he draws an invisible line in the air from her thumb to her wrist, and she adjusts her grip, feeling the difference in the pull of her muscles. "Good. You want to carry the majority of the sword's weight in your shoulder, not your wrist, so that you won't tire out as fast. Now, the majority of your grip will come from the thumb and first two fingers, while the last two stay a little loser." He taps on her thumb with his finger, and she adjusts it accordingly. "When you swing," he takes her elbow in his hand gently, "don't swing from your wrist. You want to keep the movement localized to your elbow—" he guides her arm in a swinging motion— "or your shoulder for a bigger swing." Her skin tingles where he touches it, and she does her best to try and keep her concentration on the sword. "You can use your wrist to swivel the sword and change it's direction, so remember to keep it loose, but don't put a lot of pressure on it. Think you're ready to practice a little?"

"I think so, yeah." She does a good job of hiding the temor in her voice, glad that the sky is now mostly a soft azure to help hide her blush. He pulls his dual sword out from its scabbard on his back, splits it apart, and slides one half back into its place.

"We can go slow at first so that you get the hang of it. Focus on attacking me first, and we'll move onto defense later."

She nods and steps towards him, taking his instructions in stride as she moves, but her steps are awkward and the sword is heavy in the unfamiliar grip, and he disarms her quickly.

"Fuck!" She picks up her sword, dusting off the dirt it had picked up from the ground.

"That was actually pretty good. You need to adjust your stance." He comes back over to her and takes his stance. "Put your leading foot— for you it'll be your right foot— forward, and try to keep it like that as much as you can." She pushes her right foot forward, shifting her weight and bending her knees just a bit to even out, doing her best to mirror his posture.

Zuko takes his position across from her again, and nods for her to begin. She moves sort of in a shuffling motion, and it takes a bit longer this time for Zuko to disarm her. The sword isn't too big, but the muscles in her forearms aren't very strong.

"Better." He flicks his wrist out towards the tent, a spark flying towards the logs and catching them to light the campfire. "Try again."

They spar until the sky is dark, the stars winking above them as Katara continues to try to disarm him. She fails every time, and her forearm is sorer than she ever thought it could be. Zuko has removed his overshirt, the one underneath baring most of his arms, and she tries not to get distracted by the thick muscle there that no doubt has come from years of practicing his craft. By the time they're done, Katara is sore and slightly sweaty, the brisk air cool against the exposed skin of her arms.

"You're getting better." Zuko slides his sword back into its home on his back, and Katara sheaths her own before they sit down at the fire. "It'll take some time to build up the right muscles, but you're getting the hang of it. In a couple days we can work on defense; your arms need time to heal so that you don't get hurt."

"You're a good teacher." His smile is small and lopsided, and she catches the beginnings of a blush rising to his cheeks.

"I had a good teacher. I'm just regurgitating what he told me," he says with a shrug.

They make their meager dinner and eat under the stars. Katara is exhausted, and by the time she climbs into her bedroll, she's tired enough that she drifts off to sleep almost immediately.

Xx

The next day they talk a bit more while they travel, mostly about her family, but sometimes about the strange things Zuko has seen in his travels. He tells her a story about an especially angry cabbage merchant who chased him out of town simply because he was Othered, and she laughs so hard that her stomach hurts, Zuko laughing right along with her. He has a nice laugh, one that she wouldn't mind hearing more often. His smile is bright, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes endearing, and she vows to make him laugh more often. He strikes her as the kind of person who hasn't had a good laugh in a long while, and she does her best to change that. She isn't particularly funny, but he chuckles at her awful jokes as they move along the worn down road.

That night once they set up camp, they decide that it would be a good idea to practice wielding their elements in the context of combat.

"Any ideas?" They stand across from each other, not unlike when they had been sparring last night.

"Nope." Zuko looks just as lost as she does.

"Maybe we should just practice handling our elements for extended periods of time. I've never really had a need to hold my water for very long, so I think it makes sense to start there." Zuko nods at her, and she siphons some water from the waterskin she keeps at her hip. Zuko cups his hands in front of him and a small plume of flame bursts to life, highlighting his face in a strange manner.

"Now what?" he asks. Katara has her water in a wobbling ball in between her hands in front of her, and is using a surprising amount of concentration to keep it there.

"Maybe we can just talk and see how long we can keep it up?" She glances up at him and he nods, his eyes falling back to his element quickly just like hers. "So… what's your family like?" Zuko's flame flares brightly in his hands, hot tendrils of fire shooting high up into the air.

"Fuck!" He quickly moves his hands farther away from his body, and the flames sputter out as he stumbles a few steps backwards.

"Oh my god!" The water falls from her hands as she runs up to Zuko. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." His eyes are wide and his breathing is a little fast due to the scare. "Maybe don't ask about my family."

"Sure, yeah." She wonders what it is about his family that had made him react so strongly, and when she reaches out to touch his arm he flinches back violently. "Zuko?"

"I said I'm fine!" he snaps at her, the biting tone of his voice unfamiliar and abrasive. His breathing is still heavy, the hand he uses to push back his hair trembling slightly.

"Okay," she makes her words soft, and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I asked."

"It's alright." His eyes are downcast, a weariness morphing his face. "I'm sorry I snapped at you like that."

"I forgive you." He looks at her, his warm golden eyes holding back some strong emotion, something sad and scared, and she thinks she might not want to know about his family and what they've done to make him like this. "Let's call it a night and try again tomorrow." He nods, and they head back to the campfire.

That night, they lay facing away from each other in their bedrolls, and Katara struggles to find sleep for what feels like a very long time. She waits for Zuko's breathing to slow, but it never does.

Xx

"Okay, let's start off easy this time." A few days later they go back to their elements, the two of them standing a few feet apart and holding their fire and water in front of them. "You go first."

"Okay. Uh..." Zuko gets a thoughtful look on his face, and his fire flickers in his palms. "What's your favorite color?"

"Really?" She's mocking him, but when she looks up her sphere of water starts to wobble, and Zuko's single eyebrow raises. "Okay, it's blue. If you could have any animal as a pet, what would it be?"

"Any animal?" She nods at him, his fire blinking as he thinks. "I don't know, I really liked your cat." She laughs, having to stop herself short when her water sphere starts to leak. "A dragon."

"Dragons aren't real," she teases. Her orb stays steady between her hands, even when she sees Zuko's bright smile.

"You never said it had to be a real animal." He steadies his fire. "Hm… do you ever wish you were normal?" His voice is soft, so quiet that she almost doesn't hear his question.

"I thought we were starting off easy." It's supposed to be a joke, but there's more than a hint of sadness in her voice. "I'm not sure." She concentrates on controlling her water. "I can't imagine my life any different than what it is now. I know when I was younger I wished that I wasn't Othered, but it doesn't bother me so much now, I guess." It's not entirely a lie, but she doesn't know how to explain how she feels about being Othered in words. "What about you?"

"Yes," he answers quickly, his voice sure even as his fire dwindles before he coaxes it back to life. "But not as much anymore, I guess." There's a far away look in his eyes, the stunning gold peering off somewhere above her shoulder. "I would have ever left my home if I was normal." He shrugs. "I think my life would have been pretty boring. Plus, I never would have met you." She meets his eyes, and a weighty silence sends her heart into a frenzy, conjuring a stirring in her gut and laying heavy on their shoulders.

"I'm glad to know that you think I'm so great." His cheeks flush red, and for whatever reason the sight has her stomach exploding into butterflies. "For the record, I think you're pretty great, too." Now it's her turn to blush, Zuko's mouth tipping into a small smile, his fire growing ever so slightly in his hands.

"You hardly even know me," he says, looking at her again, and something in his eyes makes her almost lose control over her water.

"I think I'm a pretty good judge of character."He chuckles at her self satisfied smile, shaking his head back and forth slightly.

"Next question." His voice is light, and she tries to think of a question that won't sour his mood.

"Let's see..." She starts to expand and contract her water in her hands as she thinks. "When did you start learning how to swordfight?"

"When I was ten." He follows her lead and splits his fire in two, one small plume in each hand. "A master lived in my town and taught me for seven years."

"Wow." She twirls her water around in a ribbon in front of her. "No wonder you're so good. I hope I don't take seven years to get the hang of it."

"You won't. You have a good work ethic and a strong desire to learn." He's focusing on his fire, elongating the plumes until they're stretched above his head. "I didn't have either of those when I was younger. I'm surprised my master stuck with me that long."

"Well, he must have seen something in you that was worth it." Zuko's face takes on a subtle softness.

"I guess so."

Xx

"Fuck!" Her water falls to the ground once again, splashing onto the dry dirt before sinking in. "Why is this so hard?" She's been trying to manipulate her water in a circle around her head while her and Zuko have a conversation, but the concentration it requires is currently beyond her reach. She's tried and failed five times since they've set up camp, and she's getting sick and tired of it.

"Maybe you should try meditating." Zuko is having just a little more luck than she is, his ribbon of fire flickering in and out as he moves it around him, his face scrunched up in concentration.

"Maybe you should try meditating." Her frustration leaks into her mocking tone, and Zuko turns to her with a cranky look drawn on his face.

"Hey, don't get mad at me, I'm just trying to help."

"Well look at you, mister perfect! You're just good at everything, huh?" She likes Zuko, she really does, but travelling for a week with absolutely no alone time and watching him best her at their sword fights and pull ahead of her with handling his element every night is grating on her nerves.

"Are you serious?" His fire sputters out, something Katara gets a strange satisfaction from. "Why are you taking this out on me? It's not my fault you're having trouble!"

"Well, not all of us are so naturally gifted!" Katara knows that her anger is being misplaced, but it feels good to finally let it out, and Zuko is the only one around to hear it.

"Naturally gifted? Are you shitting me right now?" She's goaded him into being just as angry as she is, and even with the rational part of her mind screaming at her to relax, her pent up frustration is blowing up. "I'm not naturally gifted at anything! Why are you so angry at me?"

"I'm not angry at you!" She feels tears pricking at the back of her eyes. "I'm just angry! I'm frustrated and I'm tired and I miss my family and I just want to take a real bath and eat a real meal and sleep in a real bed!" Zuko's face shifts into one of sympathy. "All of this is just so exhausting." Her anger melts away, guilt at having taken it out on Zuko settling in her gut as she wipes the tears off of her face.

"I'm sorry Katara." Zuko walks up next to her, and without conscious thought she throws herself into his arms, her tears flowing anew as they wrap their arms around each other. She's never been under so much pressure, has never been away from her family this long, and has never felt like such a failure.

"I just can't get it right," she hiccups and presses her face into his sturdy shoulder. "The water, the sword fighting, anything."

"Katara, you gotta cut yourself some slack." She feels Zuko's low voice vibrating in his chest. "All of this is brand new to you. And you're making progress every day." She tries to calm her breathing, inhaling the scent of wood smoke and the faint smell of cinnamon soap that clings to Zuko's skin and clothes. "You can't expect the world of yourself. It's only been a week since we left. You have to give yourself time." His comforting words mixed with the solidity and warmth of his body ease her into a gentle calm, and she reluctantly pulls away when her tears are dry.

"I'm sorry I lashed out at you." She's embarrassed at her outburst, feeling like a teenager again, her emotions volatile and overpowering.

"It's alright, I forgive you."

From the tone of his voice, she knows he understands. There's a lot about Zuko that she doesn't know, but there's a few things that she knows for certain, the most obvious one being that he understands a lot more about pain than he lets on.