A/N: what's cooler than being cool? (leaving reviews!) alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright
ok but actually thanks for all the faves and follows and reviews you guys rock :) i promise you that all the slow build up is for a reason and i do have a vision for where this story is going, i just want to take my time in getting there. thanks for showing this story so much love already it makes me so happy xx
The thing is, Katara can deal with a lot. She can deal with nightmares and waking up in a cold sweat almost every night. She can deal with how out of place this country's citizens make her feel in every sense, from how they dress, to how they talk and how they act. She's only left palace grounds a total of two times since her arrival. The first time she leaves is to accompany Iroh into town to taste some teas and explore the streets. It's a pleasant day, for the most part. Iroh's always been kind to her and he takes the time to ask how she's feeling about the Fire Nation. Katara notices, but never complains, that many of the people they encounter on their walk greet the Dragon of the West with smiles and admiration. These same people, upon noticing Katara's blue attire, do not give her a second glance.
The second time she leaves palace grounds is with Mai, and it's only by Zuko's request. He says that a field trip might be just what she and Mai need to bond and become closer the way he did with the gaang. Unfortunately (or maybe very fortunately, depending on how one looks at it), Mai and Katara spend the time walking an arm's length apart while taking turns awkwardly trying to establish some common ground. They talk about the weather and their favorite fruits and briefly skirt over the discussion of politics. Katara immediately realizes this is a bad idea when Mai groans and rolls her eyes because, in Mai's exact words, "as much as I love Zuko, and as much as I know you'll disagree with this, I'm not sure he's making the right decisions as Fire Lord or putting our country first." (There's emphasis on the word 'our' and Katara feels that much more excluded by the Fire Nation).
Katara genuinely contemplates screaming and tearing her hair out in response, but decides that diverting the conversation back to the hot, sticky summer air and returning to the palace in uncomfortable unison is a better option.
But she can deal with all of this. She can. It makes her ill, emotionally and even a bit physically to take all of this, but she can do it.
Or she tries to convince herself she can.
It's all these little microagressions that she keeps letting slide. She thinks to tell Zuko about this, but she's not sure if anything can fix this except time. It doesn't make sense to worry him, so as much as it burns her, she bites her tongue. She knows it's a bad idea and it's only a matter of time before she explodes, but for now, she decides to be silent.
There's also the fact that Zuko is now becoming a stressor to Katara as well. It's not that he's purposefully trying to shut her out. He's always been somewhat emotionally stunted, and Katara can feel Zuko slowly but surely shutting down on her now that he's reached a plateau in his healing. He's far from being back to his old self but he hasn't really progressed in a while either. In fact, he's been requesting that she make her visits in his room shorter so that he can have more time to relax, to think and breathe, and Katara hasn't argued. She wants to, but it's hard to argue with Zuko when he's lying with his back to her, refusing to say a word until she has no choice but to leave his chamber.
It's very hard for her to be shut out after all they've experienced together, but she can deal with it. If she just toughs it out and stays calm, she can deal with it.
The question she must now ask herself, is not can she, but should she.
.
.
.
There's one spot in the palace, other than Zuko's room, where Katara feels safe and welcomed; the turtleduck pond. Maybe it's the fact that it's a body of water where she can bend to her heart's content, or the little turtleducks that nibble at her boots to greet her. It's warm. It's comforting. She likes her special spot.
The turtleducks surround her as she sits by the pond, quacking quietly when Katara begins to bend water around them, swirling and splashing droplets around her head. It's been a while since she's been able to bend freely like this; she's been so busy devoting her abilities to Zuko that she let the artistic part of her bending fall to the wayside. The turtleducks chirp in delight, and Katara supposes that they may have never seen anything like this before. They've become accustomed to pale skin and blasts of fire that now, they are mesmerized by the brown skinned girl controlling the water above their heads.
In a way, Katara is mesmerized too.
She's almost too deep in thought, bending freely but mindlessly, to notice the footsteps in the grass that approach until a voice interrupts her thoughts.
"Can't sleep?" Katara's concentration breaks and the water she's bending splashes back into the pond. All the turtleducks scatter, frightened by the noise and commotion as Zuko walks over, smiling as he takes a seat beside Katara in the grass. His hair is down instead of in its usual top knot, and his robes, silky and red, are much more casual and dressed down than the cloth he wears on a day to day basis. It almost feels like old times when he sits shoulder to shoulder with her, legs crossed as they both stare quietly at the turtleduck pond.
"What makes you think I can't sleep?" Katara asks.
"If you could, you'd be sleeping right now," Zuko replies. Katara smiles sheepishly and Zuko continues to speak. "I'm not trying to lecture you on the importance of getting a full night's rest, Katara. I come here when I need to think too."
"I don't need to think," she assures him. "I don't wanna think about anything anymore." Zuko eyes her, waiting for her to get his nonverbal prompting but she doesn't take the hint. Instead, he flicks his wrist and snaps his fingers, making tiny flames spring and dance at his fingertips.
"I find it hard to believe that you'd come all the way out here just to not think." Zuko strikes his thumb and forefinger against each other and a particularly large flame lights the air for a moment before it disappears. Katara raises a hand and flicks her wrist, drawing some of the water from the pond. A small stream rises and twirls in the air, and Zuko follows her lead, using his middle and index fingers to make sparks flicker around the water she bends. When they finally stop, all that's left is vapor.
"I keep having bad dreams," she admits. She's talking into the silence and even though she knows he heard her loud and clear, she hopes that Zuko won't respond. She hopes there won't be any confrontation, no acknowledgement, and they'll keep on living in silence until she leaves for the Southern Water Tribe.
Katara isn't so lucky.
"I have nightmares too," is Zuko's response. Katara looks at him, stunned, at how much he's opening up to her now, at how honest and vulnerable he's allowing himself to be and it drives her into silence for a moment. He looks at her too and refuses to break her gaze with his own intense eyes and it's all Katara can do to keep from crying right there, from all the emotional stress and trauma she's suffered, from all the hurt she's been trying to hide. There's something unspoken between them, telling them that they should be showing some sort of affection like any normal friends would, and hug, and console each other until they feel better, but neither bender initiates it. Katara fills the space with her words instead.
"What do you dream about?" she asks. It doesn't go unnoticed that he tenses up in response.
"A lot of things," he says.
"I see you haven't lost your pensive ambiguity."
Zuko looks up in a way that looks almost bashful to Katara before he talks again.
"Sometimes I dream about you," he admits. She hates the fact that her cheeks feel hot in response to this. "I keep wondering what would've happened if I hadn't been fast enough to stop the lightning. What would I have said to the others? To your father? Your grandmother? Sokka? How would I have been able to live knowing that you got injured because of me? I've done a lot of terrible things Katara, but endangering you was inexcusable." He stares down at the pond as the turtleducks return, swimming slowly and quietly. Their tiny webbed feet splash the water and keep the air from being too silent.
"I have dreams about you too," she says.
"Am I still the face of the enemy?" Zuko asks. He means it as a joke, Katara knows, because he smirks, just a bit, and he doesn't turn away or get defensive or try to hide his scar. Still, Katara wants to deny it immediately.
"I keep wondering what I would've done if you didn't survive the Agni Kai," Katara mumbles. Her eyes burn at the thought of it and she struggles to push words past her tongue. Even with all the nightmares, even with all the time that has passed, her mouth still tastes like bile when she thinks of how close Zuko came to death. Her heart throbs against her rib cage thinking about it. "I was so worried about you, Zuko. I still am. I can't go home until I know you're okay."
"That might be soon," Zuko says. Katara's head snaps up and her eyes widen as he elaborates. "You've done so much already. There's not much more you can do for my wound, and it's not fair for me to keep you here away from your family." Katara cocks her head to the side as if she doesn't understand what he's saying.
"How soon is soon?" she asks. "How long have you been thinking about this?" She thinks of the days when he laid in bed, back turned towards her and refusing care and wonders if it was then, he thought to himself, that he would send Katara back to her tribe as soon as he could. She knows nothing about Zuko's decision is malicious, but her eyes burn again already.
"Maybe in another week or two," Zuko says in response to her question. "I appreciate all you've done Katara, I really do. And I'm not trying to make you feel like you're intruding, or you've overstayed your welcome, or anything like that. I just can't ask you to put your life on hold when we both know I'm never going to be exactly like I was before." Katara cringes at that, thinking of how now, Zuko will be permanently altered because of her. How he will forever have to explain the wound on his chest, the twitching of his muscles, the disruptive nightmares, all because she came into his life like a monsoon and washed what little hope for stability he had left.
"What if we did do it?" Katara asks. "What if I stayed here forever? We could have our talks every day. I'd come banging on your door and you'd roll your eyes and tell me to let myself in, and I'd sit right on your bed and it'd be just like that all the time. Like one big camping trip every day." She waves her hands around lazily to make a tiny whirlpool in the turtleduck pond. Zuko smiles and plays along with her story.
"And you'd say 'how was your day my Lord?' and bow your head the way you've seen servants do it," he says, scrunching up his nose to hide a laugh.
"And then I'd complain about all the Fire Nation foods," Katara adds. "And you'd defend all the things your cooks make for us. Even though we both know I could make something better if you'd just let me into the kitchen for once."
"They make good food!" Zuko argues. "Besides, you're my guest. You're not cooking for me."
"And after I cook for you," Katara says, smiling when Zuko crosses his arms at her blatant disregard for his statement, "I'd tell you some of the stories that my Gran Gran used to tell me and Sokka growing up, and you'd tell me some of your uncle's jokes."
"And you'd tell me another story about things you and Sokka used to do growing up," Zuko says. "And I'd think to myself that maybe I missed out on something because Azula and I don't have that relationship. But then I'd realize I have something she doesn't have."
"And what's that?"
"You."
Katara doesn't know why she does it, but she rests her head on Zuko's shoulder and closes her eyes, trying to visualize everything they'd said. She can see it. She can see herself staying here, if for nothing else, to spend time with Zuko and forget about the existence of the rest of the world. To forget her responsibilities and the post traumatic stress for a while. There's a part of her, buried far beneath logic and reason, that wishes it could somehow come true. That the world could be perfect and they wouldn't have to part, or at the very least, not so prematurely. Katara doesn't ask, but she feels the way the tension in Zuko's arm disappears in the moments after she lays her head on him. He reciprocates, letting his head rest against hers as well, and she thinks that maybe, he wasn't just trying to humor her. Maybe he wishes the same thing too.
They sit like that for another thirty minutes, and listen to the turtleducks sing.