"So, what happened with you and Katara?" Zuko and Aang are crammed into the significantly-too-small-for-two-grown-ass-adults tent, and the younger man's words ring out in the night like a church bell. When Aang had first joined them Zuko had mourned the loss of his and Katara's shared space, but the past few days have made him grateful for it. He doesn't think he'd be able to sleep so close to her when her kiss is a silent spectre, the feeling an ever present shadow on his lips.
"What do you mean?" Playing dumb is pointless, but he'd rather get stabbed again than have this talk right now.
"You guys have been acting super weird since we went through the tunnel. Clearly something happened in there."
"Nothing happened." He rolls away from Aang, hoping that he'll drop it and forget about the whole thing just like Zuko is trying to do.
"That's a bald-faced lie." Zuko whips around at that, Aang's frank words striking a nerve.
"Maybe I don't want to talk about what happened," he snaps. Zuko tries to reel in the vitriol coloring his words, but Aang throws his hands up in a mock surrender anyway.
"Hey, I'm not gonna force you to talk about it. I just think it might help to get it out, you know?" They both lay staring up at the roof of the tent, the moon and stars beyond offering no light through the dark canvas.
"We kissed." He regrets the words as soon as they fall from his lips, but a small relief accompanies the embarrassment.
"That's great!" He turns to Aang, whose face is bright and smiling, and raises his brow.
"What do you mean? If it was great I wouldn't be terrified of even looking her in the eye."
"Well, you wanted to kiss her, right?"
"Of course I did." He pushes out a heavy breath. "I've been wanting to kiss her for weeks. But not… I don't know, under those circumstances, I guess. What if she didn't actually want to kiss me?"
"Did you ask?"
"I mean, technically it was her idea." His answer is a barely audible mumble, and the blush on his cheeks flares, a raging fire under his skin.
"Wait..." Aang rolls over to face Zuko fully, propping himself up on his elbow. "You're worried that she didn't really want to kiss you, but she's the one who brought it up?" Hearing Aang say it like that makes his anxiety feel small and insignificant, but still painfully present.
"Yes?" It comes out sounding more like a question than an answer. The two of them are silent for a beat before Aang speaks up.
"So, like, are you willfully blind or legally blind?" Zuko doesn't think he's ever heard such snark from the monk next to him. Aang's brows are raised so high on his head that they could almost touch his tattoo, and Zuko bristles at his friend's attitude.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He can't help the defensiveness he feels at Aang's joke, and the younger man's face softens.
"Zuko, if she was the one who initiated, that's a pretty good indicator that she wanted to kiss you." He says it like it's so simple, like the memory of her soft skin doesn't taunt him every waking moment (any many of his sleeping moments, too).
"But she thought we had to. She suggested it because we thought it would help us find a way out of the tunnel." Aang's face is one part confusion and one part disbelief. "Don't ask. She only wanted to kiss me because she wanted to get out of the cave. Not that I blame her." Dejection leeches into his words, disappointment sour on his tongue.
"Well, was it just like, a little peck? Or was it a kiss kiss?" Zuko groans when Aang waggles his eyebrows, the blood tinting his cheeks burning with a new intensity.
"It was a kiss kiss."
"Like—"
"Like we fucking made out in a dark cave and then walked out like nothing happened!" The words rush out of his mouth in a jumble. He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans again. "I'm such an idiot."
"Okay, let me ask you this." Zuko peeks out from under his hand to look at Aang. "Does Katara seem like the kind of person who will do something she doesn't want to unless it's her only option?"
"Definitely not." It's not even a question for Zuko. Katara is so strong willed that he'd have a hard time convincing her to do anything she's even slightly opposed to.
"Exactly. So why would she kiss you like that if she didn't want to? You think it was out of necessity, but if it was, why wouldn't she have just given you a little smooch and then called it a day?" He has to admit that Aang's words make sense, but he just can't believe that Katara would want him like that. Who would?
"Whatever, it's not a big deal." He rolls back over, putting his back to Aang and hiding the raging hope inside him that wants the younger man to be right.
"Okay," Aang sighs, and Zuko almost feels bad for frustrating him. "I know telling you to listen to your heart is cheesy, but it's good advice. I think if you really try to hear it, you'll find that it has a lot to say." A shroud of silence pulls over them, and after a long time he finally finds sleep. Aang's words follow Zuko into his dreams, conjuring vivid images of a life he desperately wishes he could live.
Xx
Even the simplest of things with Katara are awkward now. Sparring becomes something he looks forward to and dreads at the same time; on the one hand, it gives him an excuse to look at her, but on the other, it just reminds him of how easy things had been before. On the upside, Aang is adapting his element to be more suited for combat rather quickly, something that he knows grates on Katara's nerves. It had taken them both a significant amount of time to hone their elements in such a way, but Aang's proficiency is aided by the encouraging upbringing of the people of Yangchen.
Aang is off somewhere else, a vague statement and a hasty exit leaving his whereabouts up to interpretation, leaving Zuko and Katara alone at the campfire. They sip their tea in silence under the stars, a once comfortable and friendly ritual now stilted and strange.
"I'm not mean for being frustrated, right?" Her words startle him to the point where he almost spills his tea. "He's just… getting it so fast. We had to work so hard." Katara had lashed out earlier at Aang, who had been being a little pompous about how quick he had picked up the new style of manipulating his air.
"He's got an advantage that we didn't." The peppermint tea slides down his throat, hot and soothing, to calm his nerves. "He grew up able to practice and use his gift freely while we had to hide ours. He's had all his life to get the hang of it." He finally makes eye contact with her, the stark glow of her eyes sending lightning crackling through his bones.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." The taste of normalcy has him yearning for more. He misses their easy conversations so much, longing a visceral ache in his chest.
"Don't sell yourself short." He wants to reach out to her, to take her soft hand in his like he might have if things between them weren't so messy. "You've come a long way in a short amount of time. You should be proud of yourself." Her mouth tilts into a small smile and his heart leaps in his chest, a shy grin forming on his face to match Katara's. The tension in the air lessons a tiny bit, and Zuko feels like he can breathe for the first time in a week.
Thankfully after that small exchange, the ice starts to melt between him and Katara, the smile he so loves to see shining on her face more often, the symphony of her laugh playing for him just like it used to. As the days wear on, it gets harder and harder for him to push his feelings back into the dark little box he tries to keep them locked in. He repeatedly has to tear his eyes away as they follow her around, tracing the sway of her hips and the swish of her hair, and if his eyes could literally turn into hearts, he knows that they would every time he looks at her. Katara makes him feel like lightning in a bottle, on edge and barely contained by some herculean act of self restraint. The worst part of it all, though, is that he's never felt anything like this before; he's not sure if he's going insane or falling in love or if his brain has been taken over by some unholy creature hell bent on giving him a heart attack. But every time she looks at him, those glowing ocean eyes driving a stake through his heart with every blink, he knows he'd endure the worst this earth could throw at him just to stand by her side. I'm so far gone, it's a miracle that I'm not lost.
Xx
The grand city of Omashu looms before them, it's pyramidal shape jutting up into the bright almost-summer sky, a dog ear on a page to the heavens. The three Othered stand before it, mouths open and luminous eyes wide as they try to take it all in. The city is gargantuan, definitely the biggest Zuko has seen since he'd left Ember so many years ago; the main pyramid towers over the other three smaller peaks, and the city itself is isolated by a vast canyon on all sides. The only way in is a long path with perilously steep drops on either side leading from the mainland to the huge city. Yangchen had been beautiful in it's own right, but Omashu is something else entirely, the neatly packed buildings filling every inch of the city a far cry from the softly winding roads of Aang's home. A huge wall surrounds the city, the monolithic gate imposing itself upon them as they approach it. Katara's got her hat on to hide her eyes, and Zuko's hood is pulled down over his head despite the warm air. Aang has pulled a section of his yellow robes over his head to act as a hood, and as silly as it looks, it'll have to do.
"So your uncle said to just… walk in?" Aang doesn't sound very confident, and Zuko hates to admit that the feeling is mutual.
"He said he knows the king personally and that he's expecting us, so I guess we just walk in." He makes eye contact with Aang over Katara's head before shifting his gaze; he gains courage when he looks down to meet her glowing blue eyes and takes a deep breath. "Let's get this over with."
His steps are deceivingly sure as they head towards the gate. The road is crowded with people, merchants and farmers pulling their wares into and out of the impressive city. Luckily, all of the people seem too absorbed in their own lives to pay much attention to the motley crew walking among them. They get into a short line to get through the gate, and Zuko realizes that there are guards inspecting carts and asking people questions at the entrace. Fear runs ice cold through his veins, but he has to trust his uncle; he wouldn't send them into danger. Katara takes his hand, slotting her trembling fingers into the spaces between his, melting the chill in his blood with a rushing wave of warmth.
"I'll talk to the guards," he tells them with a low voice.
The merchant in front of them gets his cart checked, the guard picking up a head of cabbage and turning it around to inspect it from every angle. Zuko isn't sure what could possibly be dangerous about a bunch of cabbage, but apparently the guards are being extremely thorough.
"Step up." The guard sounds almost bored. Katara's hand slides from his as they approach the uniformed man, Zuko's hood pulled low over his eyes. "Business or pleasure?"
"We're here to see the King." The guards head snaps up from the clipboard he's holding and Zuko reluctantly meets his eyes.
"Show me your eyes." The guard speaks clearly to Katara and Aang, but luckily keeps his voice quiet enough to not make a scene. He nods his head, apparently approving of what he sees, and turns back to Zuko. "Wait on the other side of the wall. Be discreet. I'll send someone to bring you up to see the King."
The three of them let out a collective sigh as the guard waves the next group forward, and they enter the city of Omashu. It's even more awe inspiring from the inside, with sturdy, attractive houses and storefronts laid out in a neat grid pattern. The buildings slope upwards, the long road up to the palace no doubt making for a brutal walk, but people are flooding the streets anyway. It almost reminds him of the market square in Katara's little village, but on a much grander scale. He looks over at her to see her wide eyes and bright smile, unintentionally getting as lost in her features as she is in the scene before them.
"You're here to see the King?" They all jump at the voice that comes from beside them. The man who it belongs to is somewhat short, definitely isn't a guard, and is wearing a funny hat with a gaudy gold tassel hanging from the top.
Zuko swallows past his nerves. "Yes, we are." The man requires no more explanation and waves them along behind him, eventually loading them into a carriage.
Aang bounds up to sit next to the short man who cringes just the slightest bit at their proximity, leaving a rosy cheeked Zuko to sit on the other bench with Katara. The ride up to the palace is tense, not one word being uttered from any of the four occupants as the carriage makes its way up the steep slope of the main road. He tries to keep his eyes either out towards the city or aimed down towards his lap, but it's much more difficult than he would have thought to not look at Katara while she's sitting so close to him. Her aromatic soap is floral and light, the scent intoxicating and sending a fresh wave of shivers through him every time the balmy breeze ruffles her hair.
After a long and arduous (for Zuko, at least) journey up the main road, they finally reach the palace and mercifully exit the carriage. The short man leads them through the palace into the throne room, and Zuko has to clench his jaw to stay present, his hands fisted so tightly that his nails dig painfully into his palms and his knuckles turn white. This isn't Ember. This is a totally different city. I'm sure this King is nothing like—
"Who do we have here?" They stand before the king, a hunched old man drowning in his opulent green robes with chunky jeweled rings on every finger. His voice is nasally and high pitched, and if Zuko's being honest, he sounds like he's old as dirt.
"My name is Zuko, your majesty." He tries to slow the savage heart beating out of control in his chest as he bows. "And this is Katara and Aang. My uncle Iroh said you'd be expecting us." The old man's eyes flash at his uncle's name.
"Oh, so you're Iroh's nephew." The king rises slowly from his throne and walks towards them after indicating for Zuko to rise. He gets right up in Zuko's face before stopping; the king's eyes are wide and untamed, and they give him the distinct feeling that the old man knows more than he should. "You look quite like your cousin, you know." Zuko's heart stutters, the comment catching him so off guard that he thinks he might fall over. How well does this man know my uncle? "Iroh and I have been friends for a very long time." Can he read my mind? "I trust that you're here looking for someone who can manipulate earth?"
"Yes, your majesty." Aang steps forward and bows, his hands placed in front of him in a gesture Zuko has never seen before.
"Oh, just call me Bumi. Nobody's called me 'your majesty' since my hair was brown instead of grey!" King Bumi cackles at his lame joke, his snorting laughter echoing through the large throne room as the three Othered stand in silence. "In any case, you won't find who you're looking for here." Zuko's shoulders slump along with those of his companions. "But, I have heard of someone who is Othered that lives in Gaoling. Supposedly she has an elemental gift akin to all of yours."
"Do you know her name or how we can find her?" Katara's voice holds the hope of all three of them in its tone.
"Nope." The fragile hope that had filled Zuko leaks out of him just as fast as it had come. "But for now, let's get you some food and clothes. You all are stinking up my throne room!" King Bumi cackles again as Aang not-so-discreetly smells his own armpit, and they follow the eccentric King into the bowels of the palace.
Xx
After a hot bath and a new set of clothes— olive and forest green this time— Zuko's anxieties have thankfully taken their leave and left him to relax. They are led as a group to a long, regal table in a large dining room, the settings made of shining metal, glinting in the bright light and bringing back bad memories that he has to quickly shove into the back of his mind. King Bumi sits at the head, and Aang takes a suspiciously long time sitting down so that Zuko ends up seated next to Katara. He knows Aang is doing some sly meddling and trying to push him and Katara together, and shoots the younger man a glare across the table. Aang puts on a convincing show of feigning innocence, his wide eyes and round face painting a perfect picture of naivete. The first course is served, the food rich and decadent and befitting of the royalty they share the table with.
"So..." Aang takes the opportunity of the silence in between courses to speak to the King. "Do you know where The Source is?"
"No." The energy at the table drops significantly. "Nobody knows exactly where it is, although plenty of people have speculated."
"How are we supposed to figure out where it is, then?" He's been trying to hold out hope for this journey, but their goal seems further out of reach than ever right now.
"There is a place where you could probably find some promising information about The Source, but I don't know if it will tell you of its location."
"Where?" Katara asks, and braces her elbows on the table. Zuko's left eye twitches; he'd learned many years before not to rest his elbows on the table in a formal setting, and it still comes with a little shock that no attention is brought to it.
"The Si Wong Desert." The King also rests his elbows on the table and steeples his jeweled fingers. "There's rumors of a secret, sacred library hidden within the desert, one that's supposedly blessed by the gods themselves."
"A secret library?" What kind of library needs to be kept a secret? How does a library even hide in a desert?
"Yup!" The main course is placed in front of them, the smell of spice and meat filling the room. "You'll have to cross through the desert to get to Ba Sing Se, so I'd say it's worth doing a little… digging!" King Bumi cackles at his own joke, one that Zuko doesn't quite understand, and by the looks on Aang and Katara's faces, they don't get it either.
Their focus shifts quickly to the first hearty meal they've had since they left Yangchen, conversation slowing to a stop as they indulge. Zuko gorges himself on the amazing food, unsure when he'll get another meal this substantial. He'd almost be embarrassed at the fervor in which he eats if Aang and Katara weren't doing the exact same thing, and by the time the three Othered are done, they're all showing slightly protruding stomachs and exhausted faces. King Bumi reads the room and has his staff bring out some peppermint tea, the steaming drink pooling in Zuko's stomach and easing the tightness he feels there, and after a while they each retire to their own separate rooms.
Zuko hasn't slept alone in two months, and despite the years he's spent out on his own, the silence is stuffy and uncomfortable. He didn't think he'd miss Aang's gangly arms flailing onto him and waking him up in the middle of the night, and the realization that he does brings about a strange loneliness. Katara's absence has been painfully present since they left Yangchen, but the familiarity of solitude doesn't soften the sting in the slightest. The bed is soft and plush but much too large, and the opulent room serves only to make space for his demons to move in and get comfortable.
After a solid hour of tossing and turning, he throws the blankets back with a frustrated growl and leaves the empty room behind him. He has no idea where he's going, the long halls of the quirky King's palace repetitive and unfamiliar as he pads through them. Silence accompanies him through the corridors, and he lets his feet guide him wherever they please, his direction determined by nothing but his subconscious. He feels like he shouldn't be surprised, then, that his subconscious has led him out to a balcony overlooking the magnificent city where Katara is propped up on her arms against the railing. The itching in his feet makes him want to turn tail and run, but there's a hook in his heart that drags him to her regardless of how deep he digs his heels in.
"Couldn't sleep?" Her hair swings in a graceful arc when she turns to look at him, her eyes blue and bright against the backdrop of the dark city.
"Yeah,"she sighs. He's careful to leave a little space between them as he leans next to her, the few inches feeling like miles. "It's a full moon." He remembers Katara telling him that she has trouble sleeping when the moon is full, way back when they had first been travelling together. She must be thinking the same thing as they stare out at the scene before them. "It feels like we've been travelling for so long, but it's only been two months."
"All the days start to blend together after a point."The fights to keep his voice even, thoughts of the memorable days surfacing unbidden in his mind. "Time isn't real anyway." She chuckles, her eyes lifting up to gaze at the bright moon.
"I never thought I'd leave my village." Katara's voice is far away, her eyes still trained on the moon while Zuko's are stuck on her. "I was totally content with just staying in my little bubble for the rest of my life. I hadn't even thought about what was down the one road that led out into the world." She takes a deep breath and turns to meet his eyes, "until you came along." It takes all his willpower to hold himself back from kissing her. His fingers twitch with the desire to brush an errant strand of hair off of her face, and he has to clench his hands together to stop himself from reaching out.
"I'm good at shaking things up." Her laugh is quickly becoming his favorite sound, second only to his name passing smoothly through her lips. A reflexive smile grows on his face, and he has to turn away before he does something he regrets, biting his lip to force his mouth to stay shut against everything he wants to say to her.
He feels her gaze on him for a weighted moment before she, too, turns to look out at the sleeping city of Omashu. The moon is bright enough to cast shadows, its light bouncing off of the roofs of all the neatly arranged buildings, darkness filling the spaces inbetween to create a vivid contrast. It's truly a beautiful sight, something Zuko has never seen anything like in his years of travelling, but it's dull as dirt compared to the woman standing next to him. He has to actively fight against himself any time he's close to her, the desire he has to feel her soft hair between his fingers powerful and demanding. The memory of her lips will never be enough, he knows that now, and he wishes more than anything that he could kiss her until he memorizes exactly how it feels. God, I sound like such a creep.
"I'm going to head in." Katara breaks the silence they had lapsed into, one that had felt comfortably long but far too short at the same time.
"Sure." He hopes that he's successfully disguised the disillusionment in his voice with a cool indifference.
"Goodnight Zuko." He turns around entirely to watch her go, the woman he's falling head over heels for disappearing into the halls of the palace.
"Goodnight, Katara."