Disclaimer: I do NOT own ANY part of ATLA in any way, shape, or form. I own NOTHING!
CHAPTER 10:
KATARA
We can no longer agree on supplies. I don't want Zuko to go on supply runs alone anymore, and he doesn't want me to go alone anymore either. But we both want to protect Korri. So we compromise – at least we attempt to.
After finding wanted posters in all the surrounding areas, Zuko and I agreed that the next time we needed supplies we'd go together. But I don't think he's kept his word. I think he's been sneaking supplies into the house. In fact, I think that's where he is now.
We went to bed a few hours ago. Korri woke up and started crying. It was my turn for baby duty, so I got up to change and feed her. At that point, Zuko put on a cowl and said he was going for a walk to get some fresh air.
I didn't think anything of it...at the time. But he's been gone for so long that I am even more convinced that he has snuck off to do something reckless. I tried to stay awake until he came back, but I failed. I fell asleep with Korri snoozing away in my arms until I heard shuffling downstairs.
Carefully, I put her in the crib and tuck her in before I rush across the room to grab my water pouch.
It's probably Zuko making the noises downstairs, but I preemptively bend the water into my hand as I ease down the creaky steps just in case.
Peeking around the corner, I see someone in black going through the kitchen cabinets, tossing things onto countertops, and opening drawers. It's dark, so it's hard for me to tell exactly what they are doing.
Sensing me, they turn, revealing a hideous blue mask with bulging vacant eyes, wild tongue, and shaggy whiskers. I lunge forward, preparing to freeze them in place.
"Katara, stop!"
The words paralyze me. Actually, the voice does. I know that voice. I'd know it anywhere.
My hands fall to my sides. "…Zuko…?"
He removes the mask and carelessly tosses it to the side.
I'm no longer nervous. I'm just really, really confused. Slowly, I ease further into the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" There are supplies everywhere, which doesn't really surprise me. What does surprise me is how much there is.
Zuko pushes his overgrown hair out of his face. He doesn't answer me.
"Where have you been?" I take a different approach since he isn't responding to my first question.
"Out borrowing kindness," he replies vaguely as if he is sharing a weird inside joke with himself.
I pick up the mask off the countertop and look down at it. There is something familiar about it. I've seen something like it before. I can't remember where, though.
"Did you steal all this…?" My eyes leave the mask to find Zuko across the room.
"Not from anyone who needs it."
"That's still stealing."
Cocking his head to the side, he folds his arms over his chest and leans against the counter. "Didn't you steal a waterbending scroll?"
I recoil, my ears burning.
"Taking a scroll from a bunch of pirates isn't the same as stealing food from people. Even if it was, you going out like this is still dangerous. What if something happened to you? What if you get caught? Didn't you think about what that would mean? Zuko, you are too valuable to be risking everything like this!"
He blinks, his gaze favoring the floor and his hair falling over the unscarred part of his face.
"Zuko!"
His eyes cut to me, but he continues to say nothing. He has no excuse, so he isn't going to make one.
Frustrated to the point that I can't look directly at him, I stare at the mask instead. That's when I remember what it reminds me of. In the Ember Island Player's play about us, there was a part where someone in a blue mask rescued Aang after Zhao captured him.
What did they call him? The blue…something…
I hold the mask up. "There was something like this in the Ember Island Player's play. I think I may have even seen a mask like this on Fire Nation wanted posters when we were traveling with Aang. Was that you too?"
Zuko sucks in a long deliberate breath. "...Yes."
"Does anyone else know about this?"
"Uncle."
"Care to explain?"
Zuko glances up at the concave ceiling, his hands gripping the counter behind him tightly. "Let's just say that when you're a banished prince and a fugitive, an alter ego comes in handy."
"It might be handy, but it's dangerous and dishonest too. Zuko, you're stealing from people!"
His lax position dissolves. He pries himself off the counter and glares at me. "Are you deaf? I told you I didn't take anything from anyone that matters."
"What does that mean?!" I shout, returning his glare. "I'm sure whoever you took all this from has a family - not to mention the fact that they're still your people."
He balks at me. "You're taking up for citizens of the Fire Nation now? You?!"
"They aren't all bad. I learned that shortly after we came here. I also learned that from you." I fold my hands over my heart.
"Listen…" Zuko runs a hand down his face. "We need supplies. We can't risk being seen."
"But you're okay with this…thing's wanted poster plastered all over the place?"
"Better its wanted poster than yours."
A diversion? Is he trying to get the attention off the rest of us?
"Seriously?!" I shout so loud I'm sure the baby heard me. "You're using that as an excuse?"
"It's one of them, yeah!"
"What else could possibly justify this?"
"I just…" He throws his hands up and for a minute, I worry fire will shoot out of them. "I need this right now."
"Explain."
He doesn't. Instead, he walks away and starts slipping the black clothes off over his head.
"Zuko!" I chase after him.
His pace is heated as he goes up the stairs and heads for the bathroom, strides long and heavy. I struggle to keep up, but I'm not letting this go. It's stupid, reckless, and reeks of the old Zuko.
"Zuko, you can't just—"
"I'm going to take a bath now. I suggest you stop following…" he fills the doorway as he turns to face me "...unless you want to get in with me?"
He meant it to be sharp and sarcastic, but it didn't come out that way. It came out as very suggestive, causing both of us to stiffen and blush.
That insufferable static is in the air between and around us. It's the same static that filled my lungs right before he kissed me the first time.
I want it gone. We need it gone.
His hands tighten on the doorframe as we continue to stare each other down. It feels like a challenge, and I am just angry and worked up enough to meet it.
I grab his face and kiss him.
He is stunned at first. His hands stay on the doorframe. I hear his fingers curling against the wood of it, though.
Despite my initial force, my kiss is tentative and inexperienced. It's painfully obvious that I've only done this a handful of times. In fact, this is the first time I've ever initiated a kiss.
His lips begin to move, but he lets me take the lead, which I do with a surprising amount of vigor.
I take another step forward. My body meets his, and my mind goes blank as the kiss morphs from something innocent and inexperienced to something passionate and intense.
Confused by my own actions, I pull away, but Zuko is unfazed. His eyes are lidded, but they are so bright and alive.
My breathing quickens with adrenaline as if I'm about to be chased. I don't know if I am nervous, afraid, embarrassed, or excited.
Something bordering on understanding passes between us. We don't say anything, but we reach a nonverbal agreement, silently acknowledging that there is something between us.
That first kiss wasn't a fluke.
The wood of the doorframe is smoking under his fingers. Slowly, his hands leave the wood and reach for me.
I don't fight him. I lean into him as his hands go around my middle.
I push his hair out of his face, and our lips meet again. My arms loop around his neck as his hands glide up the length of my waist, his fingertips itching at the edge of my bindings around my ribs. His hair flutters along my arms. It's coarse yet soft and smooth like rich, Fire Nation silk.
He lifts me, and my legs wrap around him.
I blush down to my collarbone. I am shocked at how instinctual that was and just how badly I wanted him between my legs. But I want more. As the muscles in my lower abdomen get tighter and tighter, I know it isn't enough. It isn't quite what I want.
I moan. I actually moan, which causes him to growl lowly against me. The vibrations of it go right through every bit of sinew in my body.
Zuko presses me against the nearest wall, and we become a tangled mass of limbs and taught muscle. My hands are in his hair and on his shoulders. His hands are everywhere. Touch is flowing back and forth between us so much that it all begins to melt from the heat and mold together. I can no longer tell where I end and he begins.
His mouth goes to my throat, giving me a chance to catch my breath. However, the new sensation of his lips on that sensitive patch of skin gives life to something primal in me. My breath is lost as soon as I find it again, escaping me in a shaky gasp.
My senses are overwhelmed. I am lost in this thick, red fog, and in that fog, a part of me that has lied dormant like an ancient beast sucks in its first desperate breaths. It lurches forward with this inexplicable drive to act on the absolute basest instincts I have, whispering perverse and secret desires into my ear.
Sensing that I am seconds away from melting into nothingness, Zuko pulls away. Breathing hard, he lowers me back to my feet, but I struggle to stand. I'm dizzy.
My hand covers my heart, feeling it beat abnormally against my ribcage. I'm thankful it's trapped there. That way it can't leave me and tell Zuko how good he makes me feel.
There is a strange sadness in his eyes as he takes a step back and stares down at me.
"Go back to bed, Katara," he says between rough, ragged breaths. His eyes are animalistic, and adrenaline is still screaming through my blood.
I shiver, shuddering down to my toes as he drifts into the bathroom and shuts the door.
I don't see Zuko again until the next morning. He never came back to bed, but I didn't really expect him to.
Korri, Momo, and I are halfway through breakfast when Zuko enters the kitchen looking exhausted. He is paler than normal. His shoulders sag. His eyes are dark and sunken. Even the scar on his chest seems brighter and more irritated.
It looks like he slept as well as I did.
Momo chirps excitedly at the sight of him. He leaps from the table, spilling my glass of water as he does so. He flies right for Zuko's shoulder where he perches himself contently, curling his tail around his neck.
Without saying a word, Zuko sits down at the table and scratches Momo behind the ears.
I don't say anything either. I focus on bending the spilled water back into the glass and giving Korri small bites of porridge.
She is excited to see Zuko too. I became invisible as soon as he came in. She babbles nonsense to him through a mouthful of porridge and reaches for his hand. He doesn't give her his hand, but he does offer her one of his fingers, which she takes gleefully.
Zuko reaches across the table toward me. My heart races thinking he is going to grab my hand, but he takes Korri's bowl of porridge from me so he can feed her.
I tell myself I'm not disappointed.
"I'm sorry I didn't come back to bed last night," he finally says. I feel his eyes boring into me. "I didn't want to fight anymore, and I didn't trust myself enough to be in the same room as you…after…"
Blood rushes to my cheeks as I peek at him out of the corner of my eye. It's hard to look at him, so I keep eating what is left of my eggs even though I'm not hungry anymore.
"And I'm sorry about the whole stealing thing," he adds quickly as he gives Korri another small bite of food.
"Promise you won't do it again."
Silence.
"Zuko!" I slam down my chopsticks, causing Momo and Korri to jolt.
"I can't do that, Katara," he counters earnestly, his tone pained. "We might be put into a position where I have to."
"So was last night you just brushing up on your skills?"
"Partly."
"What's the other part?"
There is another long pause. He gets up from his chair, walks to the other side of the kitchen where the mask still sits and picks it up. He holds it a while, staring down at it long and hard. Eventually, he comes back to the table and gives it to me.
"…I just needed to be someone else..." Zuko says lowly and leaves.
Momo flies out of the room with him, and Korri whimpers as if begging for him to come back. I want to cry out and run after him too, but I don't.
I stare down at the mask in my hands, and I know he gave it to me as a peace offering. It is his way of saying that he won't do this again without going through me first.
It feels heavy in my lap as I trace its hard, wild features with my fingertips.
As much as I want to be mad at Zuko, I'm not sure if I can be anymore. I understand where he is coming from, and I wonder just how much someone would have to hate themselves to feel like they need to be someone else.
Later that afternoon, after doing some serious thinking, I finally go looking for Zuko. I have no idea what's going to happen once I find him. I'm not sure what I want to happen, but I miss him. I'm tired of us avoiding each other even though we haven't for that long.
He's in the study looking at a scroll. There is a pile of them on the desk. I don't know what he is looking for, but it is obvious he hasn't found it.
"Hey."
His eyes leave the scroll and find mine. They are soft but focused and approachable.
"Hey," he says, his tone mimicking mine.
"I brought you some lunch. I thought you might be hungry." I put the plate on the desk cautiously, as if too much movement will cause an explosion.
"Thanks." He rubs at the back of his neck.
"You're welcome." I linger near the desk awkwardly, shifting on the balls of my feet and fidgeting with my fingers.
"Are you still mad at me?" he asks as he moves the food on his plate. He doesn't eat anything, though.
I hop onto the edge of the desk. "Kinda."
He smirks. "I guess that's fair."
"But…I understand." I try to sound as compassionate as possible because I do empathize with his position, and I hate the thought of Zuko hating himself so much that he has been looking for an opportunity to escape. I can't imagine his burden, all the pressure, and the amount of guilt and regret he must feel just because of who he is and what's expected of him.
I remember how good it felt to be the Painted Lady. I remember how liberating and exciting it was for me to take on that other persona. If I were being honest, I'd do it again if I had the chance. With everything in our world so dark, things like that are more tempting than ever.
"I want to escape too…" I admit faintly as I stare out the window behind him, watching the overcast clouds wrestle with one another over the pale blue horizon.
Zuko nods. "I think we all do."
We sit in silence, listening to the cold waves crash outside. Not a word is said, but we have a long conversation in that silence. So much passes between us just from locking eyes.
I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm here. There is just this force that keeps pulling me toward him. It grows stronger by the second. Fighting it has become exhausting, and I'm not even sure if I want to fight it anymore. But what will giving into this part of myself mean? Does it even matter?
It is probably too late for these questions. The damage is done. This wound has gone untreated for too long. It's like a burn I didn't get to quick enough.
"This morning you said that you didn't trust yourself to be in the same room as me last night after we…" My words trail off and weaken. I'm not sure if I can keep going.
Zuko blinks a few times but remains completely unreadable.
I fold my hands in my lap, tightening my grip until my knuckles go white. "Well, I don't trust myself now."
Something in his eyes and posture changes. He becomes more attentive and sincere.
"I don't know if I trust myself with you at all anymore…but I…" my breath catches in my throat. "I don't want to be away from you either."
Slowly, he stands and wanders to my edge desk until he is in front of me.
I freeze. I can't look at him. My eyes go to the elaborate, red rug on the floor, tracing all the golden designs that dance along it.
He grabs my chin gently and angles my face up until our eyes meet. My legs part and he wedges himself firmly between them.
"What do you want?" he asks yet again, and I finally understand this question.
Swallowing hard, I reach for his face. I run my thumbs along his sharp cheekbones. I feel myself slipping, getting lost in the molten gold of his eyes.
Damn those eyes. I've never seen in anyone else's what I see in his. He coaxes the most beautiful and the most frustrating things out of me, things I didn't know existed until I got close to him.
Distressed by all the intense emotions swarming around inside me like buzzard-wasps, I sigh and press my forehead to his.
He leans into me, inching closer, our hair and breath mingling together. I close my eyes, that familiar tingle spreading through me as I think about his question.
In these moments with Zuko, I feel loved. I feel needed and appreciated. And apparently, these are things I long for, things I've been missing. I don't want to lose them. I can't lose these precious, sparkling shards of contentment that remind me what it is like to be alive.
I want to escape too…
Zuko kisses my forehead briefly as if this is some kind of friendly goodbye and tries to back away, but I don't let him. My lips press to his, tenderly this time. We are cautious, and it is the gentlest kiss I've ever experienced. It burns like I knew it would, but it is a slow burn. I don't feel the fog from last night. This is just affectionate and experimental – for me at least. I am able to just enjoy the simple act of kissing someone.
I want to escape too…
I guess that is my answer.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I hope this chapter has brightened your day in some way :)