"I've got it," Katara says. She holds the unremarkable little water pouch with both hands, folding her legs under her thick winter skirt. Zuko kneels mirroring her, unsure of what to do with his hands.
It has to be the stupidly cold air that makes him want to lean to her.
They're not… they're not best friends or anything. Not like he and Aang have become.
He isn't sure what they are.
"Are you ready?"
Zuko stares at the pouch. They're in an ice hut, a spare reception room in the guest quarters of the Northern Water Tribe palace. A diplomatic event has brought them together for the first time in a while. Zuko gets invited to very few of these - something Uncle says will take a lot of time to improve - so he has all the reason to make sure to go to every single one, even if he feels like his limbs will never defrost from this particular event. It's not even a full two years since the war ended, so he knows this counts as making progress.
Though, he can't help but think how much the person sitting in front of him has to do with his presence here. The Water Tribes have been taking to each other quickly since the end of the war, and Katara had been instrumental in ensuring that they also looked outside their borders for collaboration.
Zuko looks around the walls. No - he won't risk melting anything just for his comfort. Last time he was up here - well. He had been destructive enough. It's funny how blind motivation can make you heedless of anything else, including sub-zero temperatures.
"Zuko?"
Right. The scar. His scar.
They've talked about it before - way, way before actually. And they've talked about it to death in the span of the last couple of days. Katara said that the water from the Spirit Oasis here is different, and special in some way. That it might be able to heal his scar.
They don't have long. Zuko's entourage is leaving tonight, and they still have to go to the closing party in the evening.
"I'm ready," he says. Of course he is. It's about time he -
Katara narrows her eyes before raising her hand to tilt his face just slightly. Zuko lets her, his train of thought lost. The touch is surprisingly light for her determined stance.
"Okay. So, right now?" Katara says. Her voice is strangely deflated.
Zuko releases his breath. "Yeah."
The hand on his cheek is cool, almost irritating in how delicately it sweeps across the scar - yet nothing but a prickling warmth seeps into Zuko's skin at the touch.
This is what he wants. This is what he's wanted for years.
Satisfied with the inspection of her subject, Katara flips up the clasp of the leather pouch and draws out a stream of water.
"Wait." The words are out before Zuko even realises he's opened his mouth. "Wait - maybe not - "
"Huh?" Katara looks up, eyes wide, catching the droplets at the last second.
Zuko looks away, not wanting to meet her eyes.
What's he supposed to say? How could he lose his resolve about this at the last moment?
He stares at the carvings in the wall above her head - geometric, yet just as ornate as any back home. "I don't think it's a good idea. I'm sorry I asked."
"Me neither," Katara sighs immediately. Zuko is surprised at the relief in her voice. He relaxes without realising, and the slump of her shoulders, too, is palpable. But he doesn't have time to acknowledge it before her arms are flying around his shoulders.
Zuko pats her back awkwardly.
"It's - I'm sorry I kind of wasted your time."
Katara shakes her head vigorously as she releases him. "I know you thought you wanted to get rid of it," she says, impassioned. "But it's everything you've been through, Zuko. It's what makes you you."
She lets him go only to clasp his face again. This time, there's no reason behind it, and Zuko, unthinkingly, leans into it as much as she does.
"If you didn't have that scar from the Fire Nation, you would never have come to us. We would never have even met you."
Funny - someone else said the same thing to him last year.
Katara releases his face - and Zuko his breath - her hand landing loosely over his. "Do you mind if I ask…? How did you... ?" The question dies on her lips as she meets his eyes.
Her eyes are big and glossy in the low light of their shelter, the icy blueness everywhere reflecting back into them, the only thing in this room.
Zuko clears his throat. He blinks hard and steels himself. She deserves to know the rest.
Katara has never pried, something he had not expected even after she had revealed to him her own history with the Fire Nation. Aang, he's surprised to realise from her words, has never told her the details, though he's been well aware of them since not long after the coronation. He feels a pang of affection for them both.
They won't see each other again for who knows how long. "Okay," he says, voice already harder. "You should sit."
Katara slowly sits back onto her heels. She doesn't let go of his hand.
Zuko wakes to the distant sound of street vendors. He blinks in surprise before remembering he's in Daoshu City, in the guesthouse of the province's government. In comparison, the Fire Nation Royal Palace is starkly quiet each morning, alone in that crater and far away from the hubbub of the people it governs. He thinks vaguely about doing something about that as he gets dressed to leave for the day's meetings.
He has what he thinks is a pretty good idea for what they can do regarding the reconstructions. He's already written to Uncle about it, and he's drafted Kaon a letter, ready to be sent with adjustments as soon as they fine-tune it in the Daoshu Province Council meeting today.
The metalworkers back home are agitated mainly for one reason: Zuko shut down half the armouries and foundries within months his coronation. Without weapons to make, and most remaining workshops diverted to shipbuilding and locomotives, people are angry. He can't in good conscience keep using the royal budget to shower them the same way the Empire did for weapons, but it's also an open secret that the Fire Nation already has more ships than they will ever need.
Here though, they could make a real difference. There's a desperate need to rebuild Daoshu and the reconstruction of the province, sadly, is going to take years. It's not a permanent solution for their troubles but it's the best Zuko has at the moment.
Inside the meeting room of Daoshu's Main Hall - a barren building that looks like it might have once been modelled after Ba Sing Se's highest quarters - Zuko is joined by the Mayor, a dozen local councillors (familiar faces by now), architects, designers and even tradesmen. These meetings have to last for hours and hours - harried scribes writing down pledges and timelines and expenses in every direction, mapmakers and planners and scouts discussing back and forth, trying to make out the sheer scale of the damage. The discussions are balanced out with breaks for pleasantries and food and drink, but the day saps Zuko's energy. It's dense, long-winded, and it's probably a logistical nightmare for every poor person that's working closely on the ground.
He thinks of Katara.
The bells that signify the end of the day's negotiations ring long after Zuko's stomach is roiling with hunger. The intensity of the discussion that had occured after Zuko's offer was put on the table meant food breaks had become unwittingly sidelined. He knows a bland provincial meal awaits him in his quarters, but he can't help but be pleased with the progress.
"It's decided," the Mayor announces as the sun begins to set. "In addition to the material shipments, Fire Lord Zuko has generously promised to provide us with the skilled labour, and many specialists," she bows deeply across the long table. "We're grateful for your support."
Zuko stands to meet her gesture, gives an awkward half-smile, hoping that it looks somewhat appropriate. He isn't sure what the right balance is here. He doesn't want to be so stoic that he seems unfriendly. Still, despite its conclusion, not everyone at this table has been happy with the direction of this week's meetings, and anything he does will probably seem patronising to them. Nevertheless, his offer has been accepted and that feels like progress.
It's his duty, he knows, to be here in person like this. He has to set these precedents.
If the triumphant spring in his step makes his ride back a little too fun, well, only Druk has to know.
Two more days pass with Zuko signing off a dozen contracts and pledges. On Sokka's suggestion (via Katara's correspondence), messages are sent to Ba Sing Se to be relayed by telegraph. It cuts the delivery time down considerably. There are already cable lines to the Fire Nation Royal Palace, courtesy of the White Lotus and a couple of very ornate machines owned by Uncle ("new technology is the best way to share old wisdom, Zuko"). The faster correspondence means arrangements are well underway.
With all of that rolling, Zuko takes a long afternoon off at the end of his first week in Daoshu. He's planning on doing nothing except taking Druk out for a long ride into the darkening sky. Being cooped up in a dense, bustling town, hardly meant for dragons, isn't doing him any good.
Zuko could do with some fresh air and solitude himself.
The work itself in Daoshu hasn't been hard, although it's tiring. The circumstances, however - the people he's with - have stirred a kind of doubt in him that Zuko hadn't realised could still be so overwhelming.
Aang and Katara. Seeing them after so long. Together, and apart.
The wedding.
He swallows, putting on his boots. Every time he closes his eyes, every night since then, he sees it without fail. The beach, the breeze circling the dress and the drapings, Katara's teary smiles and Aang's exhilarated ones.
It's not - it can't be normal to feel this way about it, right? He doesn't even know what he feels, except that he's not upset - not really -
They've always been a thing, in one way or another, probably long before Zuko got to know them. That's not what bothers him. Aang is Aang - Zuko can't put to words, even for himself, how their lives have intertwined, and how much meaning it has for him. And if the alertness Zuko has always felt around Katara changed into something warmer and brighter, if no less reverent, over the years, he can deal with that, too.
Or he thought he could. He's never felt left out, not really. But now they're married.
Zuko swaps his formal tunic out for something warm and sturdy he can fly in. Working with them, seeing them so regularly, right after attending the wedding, is more aggravating than he thought it would be. It only reminds him of one thing -
He's lost his chance to say something.
Not that he's ever had one.
He knows what his issue is. But it's stupid, and he's stupid to spend so much time just uselessly thinking about it.
Zuko forgoes the cloak. Even high up, it's blissfully warm out here.
He thinks Aang might have understood. Maybe even clarified it more than he can himself. But Water Tribe custom is as strict as the Fire Nation, and he can't risk the misunderstanding. If there's one thing about Katara he feels more deeply than their connection - their shared loss and their shared resolve - it's her protectiveness over Aang.
He just needs to stop thinking about it.
When Zuko reaches the courtyard behind his quarters where Druk sleeps, he's surprised to see a familiar furry face next to his dragon's.
Appa gives a happy grunt of acknowledgement to Zuko. Aang slides off his back, his feet landing with a thud. "Fire Lord! Long day?"
"Aang? What are you doing here?" Zuko ducks out of the reach of Appa's friendly greeting with a laugh. He just wasn't expecting any guests. These are the only warm-ish clothes he's brought, it wouldn't be great to have sky bison saliva all over them already.
"I thought I'd come and see how you're doing," Aang says. "How're the negotiations going?" He smiles widely and walks straight into Zuko's arms for a quick hug, and Zuko, as always, returns it warmly.
Stop thinking.
"Decent," he says. "Really well, actually. We've figured out what kind of reinforcements and materials to bring over. I've put Uncle in charge of arranging everything back at home. Remember what I told you about the metalworkers? I think we can kill two birds with one stone."
Aang nods along to Zuko's words with understanding. His face, however, is distracted. Tainted with worry.
"Are you okay?" Zuko says, "How's the spirit search?"
Aang doesn't answer his question, just hums and nods, eyeing Zuko's attire head to toe, "You're going for a ride?"
"Oh - " Zuko follows his gaze, suddenly feeling awkward. "Yeah. Do you wanna join me?"
Maybe Aang wants to be distracted. It certainly seems like it. He leaps back onto Appa, leading the way, out of the built up area, hovering mid-air for Druk and Zuko to catch up.
High above the city, the light breeze turns into wind. Zuko glances across at Aang on Appa's back. He's scanning the scenery, a hand up above his eyes to shield them from the glaring sun.
"I know a cool place out here," Zuko yells over the rush of the wind in his ears. It feels good to be up above, away from the bustle of the city for the first time in days. "Follow me."
He guides Druk to an outcrop on the side of the mountain - a sweeping, even range that walls the northernmost border of the province. It's nothing like the foreboding grey-black mountains that he's used to at home, but the lush greenery is its own kind of wonder. He doesn't look back, he knows that Aang will be close behind. They land in a swirl of dust, Zuko guiding Druk by his reins.
"Look," he says, when Appa settles next to them.
Aang bounces up onto his feet on the saddle, as tall as Druk's crouched face, and follows Zuko's gaze. "Woah." He turns back with wide eyes. Zuko's chest warms instantly at the sight.
Below them, sloping sheets of green are fading in the twilight. Daoshu City and its surrounding villages sit at the bottom of them, lit up like tiny clustered pinpricks in the distance. They glitter like stars, as if they're reflecting the darkening sky above.
Aang laughs brightly. Zuko basks in his wonder, smiling into his sleeve. Well - it shouldn't be that interesting for someone used to flying, but still, Aang already looks way happier. The twinkling lights here in the Earth Kingdom cities are still unparalleled by anything anywhere else. It's the style of the cities, the way they sprawl outwards like veins, so unlike the walled-in towns of the Fire Nation.
"Zuko, this view is beautiful," Aang says. He sighs, sitting back down, scratching Appa's fur. "Do you think Republic City will look like this one day?"
Zuko makes a noise of disbelief. "Nah. It'll be much bigger. It might even be bigger than Ba Sing Se," he says. He joins Aang in simply admiring the view for a moment. "You know, the council thinks this earthquake is going to trigger a lot of people leaving. To Republic City, mostly."
"Are you worried about that? "
"I don't know. I think - I mean I know now that it's up to them. People are going to do whatever they think is best for themselves. It's just that some of the people in the council bring it up - like I have something to do with it -"
"That's ridiculous," Aang says plainly.
"I know. But that's what it is. They think we're meddling. And not everyone in the council agreed to our help, though they were outvoted. Some people think the Earth Kingdom shouldn't even accept aid from us."
"Do you think you made the right decision?"
"Of course I do," Zuko replies. Just as instantly, a shadow of a doubt crosses him. It's annoying - just when he thinks he's thought about it from every angle. "Do you?"
Aang turns right around to face him. "I trust your judgement on this."
Well. That helps. A lot.
It's getting darker quickly. Aang turns back towards the view so that Zuko can only make out his shoulders where they block the light of the towns below. "I know it's not really comparable, but if I had done what people thought the Avatar should do, instead of what I knew was right…"
Zuko glances up at the sky. "Yeah. I get it. Thanks." He takes advantage of Aang's positive mood. "How's the search going?"
Aang scrunches up his shoulders. "I've been reading up a lot, and I went into the Spirit World for a little while in these past few days. I think I'm getting close. I just hope... that I can get to the root of this before anything worse happens." He sighs a sigh long enough to send Appa's fur ruffling in the wind.
Zuko considers this. "You're doing a lot just by being here, you know. You don't know how many people down in Daoshu bring up the fact that the Avatar is working with them, especially out in Bakai where it's - uh - less polished."
He can practically feel Aang roll his eyes as he says, "We're in an earthquake zone. Nothing's polished."
"Either way, you're doing wonders for morale. They need you, Aang."
"Are you jealous, Your Fieryness?"
Zuko chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Of course I am, you idiot."
Aang gives him a little smile of understanding. He says after a moment, "Or - am I just not doing anything for your morale?" He pouts.
Zuko actually grunts in surprise. He has to be doing this on purpose. "I'm going to kill you."
"Aw, I thought we were past all that."
"I'm not messing around," Zuko insists.
Aang is practically folded in half with laughter. "Appa! Let's get away from this evil Fire Nation overlord." He drags himself up to get a hold of the reins, "Yip yip!"
Zuko follows him, the evening wind rushing so satisfyingly around his face. This not being stupid thing is going to be easier said than done.
Dear Zuko,
How are you? Aang says you've been in council meetings all week, though I didn't push when he mentioned it. He's been way too stressed over all this namazu business. Anyway, I've got a mandated day off next week. I'm going to visit the apothecaries in town during the morning, but I was wondering if you would come down in the evening? It's been a long week. Aang probably can't join us but goodness knows I could do with seeing your face.
Katara
...
Zuko,
Congratulations on the deal you made! Everything is ready for departure tomorrow. As per the calculations the Daoshu Council sent through, we have organised a small cargo fleet of materials and three dozen metalworkers to start with. You will not believe how relieved Kaon was when I spoke to him, though I am sure you've had correspondence already.
I hope your friends are doing well. It's been so long since we had the company of the Avatar and friends, don't you think? Perhaps after all this is over, we will all be due for a vacation to Ember Island. Either way, I want you to come back to the Palace and spend some time with your old uncle after this. I am very proud of your work there. You know, of course, that you can always discuss any troubles with me.
Iroh
P.s. I am so glad to see those old telegraphs getting some use. I have donated them both permanently to the royal communications division. Maybe you will bring me something state of the art from Republic City to replace them?
...
To His Royal Highness Fire Lord Zuko,
Everything is set, sir. I am writing to you as the second fleet is preparing to set sail. As instructed, I have attached to this letter the telegrams we have sent and received, for your personal records.
In your service,
Kaon
Deputy Chair
Fire Nation High Council
Kaon,
Thank you for the records and for organising this council so soundly in my absence. I am grateful to you and the whole council. Keep up the great work.
Sincerely,
Zuko
...
Uncle,
Thank you. I couldn't have done it without your help. Since everything is going well at home, I'll stay on for a few more weeks to make sure the operations run smoothly. You were right, it's important to be out here, helping where things are happening, even if I'm not sure about everything. About what I mentioned before - don't worry about it. I talked to Aang about it. I think I'll ask them to come with me after everything is finished here, my friends in Republic City too. I'm sure Sokka will bring something fancier than a telegraph.
Take care,
Zuko
P.S. Give Kaon a few days leave on my behalf.
...
Katara,
I've got Druk so I'll meet you at the top of the path. Be there at six.
Zuko
"Flowers! Zuko!"
Zuko feels his face contorting into a scowl before he can help it. "I saw them in the market in the city. They're the ones my uncle likes. I thought they were nice."
Katara holds up the loose bouquet of night jasmines to her face and takes a deep breath. The afternoon is overcast but still so warm, making her cheeks red and her eyes glow.
"You're so - formal," she sighs. "They're lovely."
They catch up on the last week. It's obvious how hard Katara is working - there are bags under her eyes that weren't there last time, and her face, her gait, are somehow harder. He marvels at how well she seems to adjust to these schedules.
He watches her hands as they pick some of the flowers off their stems (he realises belatedly that these are not Uncle's jasmines - they're more delicate, droopy, with bright orange middles, though he thinks Katara already knows that). When she twirls one stem around another, forming the beginning of a chain, Zuko sees that the fingers of her right hand are stiff, barely moving.
"I really don't know how you do it, Zuko," she says, when he recounts the difficulty of getting the old Colonial Guard to agree to send the metalworkers to help Daoshu on the Earth Kingdom's terms.
"Yeah. Thankfully my Uncle and the councillors handled it in person, but it's so… annoying. I don't know how they think they can just keep doing what they were before. The world's changed."
She scoffs. "Well. That's the Fire Nation for you."
"It's my job to make sure that's not the Fire Nation, not in the future," Zuko says with a huff of frustration.
"You're the only person I trust with that job," Katara says firmly, turning to him. She puts her hand over his, "and you're doing great."
Zuko swallows. She seems to have realised how flippant her first comment may have been, because she continues, "No one should expect things to change so quickly, either. There's only so much in your control."
Zuko holds her gaze with gratitude, until gratitude isn't a good excuse anymore. He loosely clasps her hand in his. "What's wrong with your hand?"
Katara frowns at this. "Oh, I don't know. I've been healing small fractures a lot lately. It's repetitive, I think I just did the movement too much." She lifts her fingers and flexes her fingers experimentally, wincing. Zuko wants to grab them back.
She shrugs. "I tried healing it, but my left hand is weaker, and honestly, it's probably phantom pain now."
"Have you tried heat?" Zuko asks.
In response, Katara holds her hand up in front of his face. "Just tigerbeetle balm. Smell it. Very popular around here."
Zuko brings her hand close to his face. He's hit by a weirdly overpowering smell. Katara laughs as he coughs and leans away, his nose still tingling.
"What is it?"
"Camphor," she says. "Not actual tigerbeetles. Though now I'm pretty sure I can detect mint oil and menthol, too."
Zuko gives her a raised eyebrow.
"What? I've been sniffing plants all day."
"You have?" Zuko says as a prompt. He clasps her hand flat between his and concentrates. It's still pretty hard for him to generate heat without fire - Uncle is the only person he knows that can do it so casually, though he thinks that has more to do with the desire for hot tea than any desire to master survival skills.
"Yup. I went to the apothecaries to learn how to use the plants stocked in the hospital. I had no idea how far medicine has come over here. There are herbs for almost everything, and they work," she says, eyes flitting excitedly over her surroundings as she remembers the details of her day. "Really well, usually, and - ow!" She flinches suddenly.
Zuko realises that he's managed to squeeze her hand, just the slightest amount. "Sorry," he says quickly. It must be in a worse than he thought, than she's letting on. He's barely applying any pressure.
Katara continues, "I think maybe waterbenders are held back by how much we rely on healing, you know?"
Zuko lets the warmth seep from his palms to hers. He needs all his concentration for a steady, constant flow, so he directs his gaze away from her earnest expression.
"There's so much to learn in the apothecaries. I think we could even start a course back in Republic City - for the healers at the schools. I'm going to write to the board, and the schools back in the Water Tribes, actually, when I get the time -"
"That's a great idea," Zuko says. Her eagerness runs through him like his heat through her. It's invigorating, and he thinks suddenly how glad he is that he came to meet her.
He really can't forget, not even for a moment, how much Katara has in her - how much she inspires him. He already knows the meetings tomorrow are going to feel easier, knowing the good she's doing down on the ground here.
Katara nods, deep in thought. Suddenly, she looks down at her hand in Zuko's lap. She shrinks a little, suddenly demure, and Zuko's own face is suddenly as warm as his hands.
Katara clears her throat. "That's really - that feels so much better, Zuko. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."
He has to be imagining how quiet her voice has gotten from one moment to the next.
Zuko clears his throat, too. "It's no problem." Without much thought, he pushes his fingers between hers - that will let the heat get into the crevices between her fingers.
Katara sighs her relief from the ache, a movement slower and slighter than the non-existent afternoon breeze, but Zuko still feels the movement bleed from her hand into his whole body.
He chuckles awkwardly. "But you did think trying to weave tiny little flower stems with those fingers would be a good idea."
Katara frowns at the half-hearted attempt at a chain of flowers next to her on the bench. "Oh. Just a habit I picked up, I don't really know why I did that," she laughs lightly.
All the hands in Zuko's lap warm up a conspicuous amount at that comment. They both know whose habit that is. He hopes that Katara hasn't noticed, but when he dares a glance at her face, its expression is too preoccupied to even be aware of him. She picks out one of the flowers with her free hand, easing out the tangled stem and holding it between two fingers.
"Have you seen Aang lately?" she asks.
"Just a couple of days ago, actually. He came to see me." He doesn't know why he feels strange about looking at Katara while he tells her that.
"Really?" she says. "He didn't tell me. How did he seem?"
"Distracted," Zuko says.
Katara nods knowingly. "He's having trouble getting to that Spirit."
Zuko suddenly thinks of Uncle's letter. "You guys need to come to the Palace when everything here is done," he says, sitting forward. "My uncle's pestering me."
Pestering is a strong word, but he's the only person who's read that letter.
At this, Katara breaks into a smile. "Zuko - that would be perfect," - and now she's the one squeezing him - "Oh, I miss Iroh so much. And you. Ugh, I miss you." She drops the flower to nudge a palm gently to his face.
All of Zuko feels alert. "And everyone else, too, obviously; Sokka, Suki, Toph," he says quickly, to distract himself. Katara nods along, grinning. Zuko shifts self-consciously on the bench. He can't enjoy making her happy this much.
"Yeah," she agrees. "It would be nice to have everyone. Us, though - we're going to be honeymooning," she says delightedly. "Aang will love that."
Honeymoon, right. Because they had their wedding. They're married. As much as this sounds like a weird invitation -
"I hope so," Zuko says, trying to sound casual.
He looks at Katara square in the face. Her sweet, fierce, familiar face.
He wants to set this straight. Make something right to himself, for his own sanity, in his own head. He starts, "I want you guys to be - I do want you to think of it as a honeymoon, Katara."
He's nodding and she's nodding back, encouragingly, but he's struggling with the words, and her renewed attention isn't helping. "Not just about Uncle, I want to do that for you - I want my home to be that for you. Because you guys - you're my family -"
He can practically hear Katara's face contort with emotion. But Zuko doesn't know if her eyes well up at that, because he can't see; he can't see anything but hair and coarse fabric and more hair, and he can't feel anything except her arms thrown tight around him.