You left my soul bleeding in the dark
So you could be king

—"Explosions" by Ellie Goudling

A/N:

Guess I couldn't quite wait until December in order to update.

It's strange to wake up beside someone for longer than a month.

Zuko is beginning to learn his partner's habits. Katara never likes to wake up early. Never. Unlike some women who only spend a few minutes in the bathroom each morning, Katara will spend the better part of an hour. Most of this hour she spends submerged in Zuko's bathtub, gleefully surrounding herself with her element.

For breakfast, Katara enjoys fresh fruit the most.

Unlike Zuko, Katara does not find tea time all that important.

Katara snubs her nose up at rice wine, openly preferring firewhiskey. Unlike Zuko, Katara does not like to get drunk before the sun sets.

Katara does not like to get overheated, and will often push Zuko away in her sleep. Zuko has started putting lighter sheets on his bed because of this.

Katara likes the fried fish sold in the markets much better than the expertly prepared fish to come out of the palace kitchens.

Katara cries when she becomes frustrated. She also cries when she's been laughing really, really hard.

Zuko absorbs these details and puts them away. He likes knowing things about her. He cares about these things

He cares.

It is nearly impossible for Zuko to get too hot.

His body twists and turns, long streams of fire flying over his head. Sweat drips down between his shoulder blades and his pale skin is hot to the touch under the undeniable heat of the sun.

Azula watches from the sidelines of their practice area, eyebrows drawn forward in thought.

Zuko has no desire to know what it is that his sister is thinking about. He stops his movements, his flames dimming and fluttering out. He turns to one of his servants and holds a hand out. A young man places a towel in his palm and Zuko walks back toward the palace. He runs the cloth over his soaking wet hair.

"Zuzu."

Zuko sighs, stopping in his steps. He runs the towel along his shoulders before stretching his arms up over his neck. "What do you want?" he snaps, irritated that he's being delayed.

Azula shrugs one shoulder casually. "We haven't really spoken much since my return. Didn't you miss me?" Her eyes, golden and exactly like his, gleam.

"Not really." Zuko flips the towel over his shoulder. "Although you sure caused quite the ruckus while you were gone."

Azula steps to her right. Zuko steps to his left. Neither of them will show their back to the other.

Azula sniffs and props her hands over her hips. Her gaze moves over his form, though she doesn't comment on his state. Zuko also notices that she hasn't said a word about his bending. Usually Azula loves to point out where his bending forms and stances are weaker than hers. But not today.

Today they are equals.

"What are you doing this evening, Zuzu?" Azula asks with false sweetness in her voice. "Are you planning on spending it with the waterbender? Or should I call her your waterbender now?"

Zuko doesn't flinch. He turns, careful not to face Azula with his back, and begins to make his way toward the palace once again.

"If she's so much fun," Azula calls after him, "then you should be a good brother and share her!"

Zuko stops, turns his head. "If you touch her then I'll kill you."

Azula snorts and she cocks an eyebrow, incredulous. "You've certainly gone noble, big brother."

Zuko can only answer her by shaking his head. "Not really."

That evening he tries his hand at making tea. He's never really had to before. There are servants who work in this palace whose only job is to make the finest tea in all the Fire Nation for the royal family.

But today is different. Today Katara is sitting across from him at a small table that Zuko has had set up on his balcony. She's wearing casual, loose fitting pants and her hair is down. Despite the high sun, she keeps yawning and stretching her arms above her head like a content cat.

And for whatever reason Zuko doesn't want anyone, not even servants, to walk in and interrupt this moment.

He's been steeping the tea, or whatever (something with the leaves) for awhile, and Katara brings one of her legs up to her chest and watches his hands lazily.

Soon the tea is finished and he pours them both cups, irrationally proud of himself.

He tastes the tea in its purist form first before deeming it drinkable. He enjoys anything hot, really.

Katara plops three sugar cubes into her cup before bringing it to her lips. She then proceeds to choke and gag.

Zuko frowns, leaning forward in his seat. "What is it?"

Katara blinks down at her tea in horror. "Did you slip poison in this when I wasn't looking?" she says, coughing.

Zuko's lip curls. "No. I'm not my sister."

Katara's brown fingers grip the teacup, as if she's trying to keep certain that it's on the table and not anywhere near her mouth. "Have you ever made tea before?" she asks, lips twitching.

"No."

Katara's lips twitch some more. Zuko knows that she's trying not to smile.

Refusing to admit defeat, he sips from his cup. "I think it tastes fine."

Katara snorts. "Really now?"

"Yep."

"You're a big fat liar."

He laughs outright at this. "I really do like it, I swear." He points at his cup and then gestures to hers. "I'll drink my cup and yours as well, if you won't."

She pushes her intricate, hand-painted teacup across the table so that it is sitting next to his. "Be my guest," she says, the shadow of a smirk on her face.

There's a small commotion down below, and Zuko looks over the railing to see his sister and a few of her servants walking about the gardens.

He'll have to watch his sister even more carefully from now on. She has left Katara in peace these past few weeks. But peace and Azula were never meant to coincide.

He looks back up at her to find Katara watching him with her cool gaze. She doesn't look away when his eye catches her.

"You'll like it when my uncle arrives," Zuko says. "He makes the best tea."

Katara smiles politely, but Zuko can tell that she's not interested in talking about tea. "That's great. I'll have to try some when he gets here."

She looks away from, head turning toward the sun. But she does not look down at the flourishing gardens. She looks out, looks toward the markets and the housing districts, looks toward the country that lies outside of this lavish palace. And beyond all of that Zuko knows that Katara is looking out toward the sea.

The expression on her face is a familiar one to him. She's given it to him a couple of times.

It is an expression of longing.

Despite the coolness of the early morning, Zuko's bangs are plastered to his slick forehead. He doesn't think that his heart can possibly beat any faster. His silk sheets are sticking to his back, yet he digs his fingers into them regardless.

A lightning bolt is stirring within his body. His hips buck forward helplessly and it takes a great deal of effort not to gasp. He keeps his eyes glued to the ceiling, knowing that if he tilts his head up and looks down then he'll lose it.

He's already about to lose it.

Katara's mouth is wet and hot and her tongue is talented. The lightning bolt comes undone and shoots across Zuko's entire body, leaving him moaning helplessly.

It takes a few moments for his gaze to clear.

Katara's wavy haired head pops out from under the sheets, looking entirely too proud of herself. She swipes discreetly at her bottom lip, but Zuko's mind and body are still too muddled with pleasure for him to feel embarrassed.

Not that he normally feels embarrassed during these situations, really.

He sighs, letting his head fall back against the pillow. His heart is finally starting to slow down. "You're good at that," he sighs in contentment.

Katara scoots out from the end of the bed, arm falling across his chest as she lies down next to him. She looks a little smug and a little awkward at the same time, as if she's not sure how to take that kind of compliment. "Well, you're good at it too. I return favors."

Zuko smiles at that, humming a little in his throat. His fingers glide along her arm and he hears her sigh.

"Don't go back to sleep," he says lowly, playfully.

"Shut up," she mumbles, blue eyes already fluttering closed.

Zuko takes this opportunity to sit up and flip her over onto her back. She yelps, surprised, before craning her neck back in order to see what he's doing.

He taps a bright red scorch mark that's sitting between her shoulder blades. He's been meaning to ask her about it. He thinks that it's in the shape of an eagle. "How did you get this?"

Katara's cheeks flush red. "Oh. That."

"This looks like some kind of gang mark."

"It is," she grumbles.

Zuko runs his fingers over the puckered skin and lifts an eyebrow at her expectantly.

She sighs. "I got in over my head with a rebel group when I was fourteen."

Zuko shakes his head, amused. "Let me guess, the illustrious Freedom Fighters?"

She blinks at him in surprise. "How…? How did you know?"

"The Fighters like to recruit them young. They scour the Earth Kingdom for impressionable youth." He sends her a thoughtful look. "How did you get out?"

Katara bites her bottom lip before looking away from Zuko. "The leader had a crush on me, so he let me leave."

The idea of this bothers Zuko more than it should. A large, loud part of him wants Katara to further explain her relationship with this gang leader, but on the other hand… Katara doesn't really owe him anything. It's not like she's asked about his past trysts.

Although it would probably take him an awkwardly long amount of time to explain all of them.

He strokes his hand from between her shoulder blades to her ribcage, where a long strip of skin is darker than the rest of her body. "How about this one?"

Katara grimaces. "I fell off Jun's shirshu once and landed on a rock."

Zuko winces on her behalf. "Sounds painful."

"It was."

Zuko traces his fingers across her back. He flicks a small, shiny scar near her hip.

Katara answers his unanswered question. "Knife fight with somebody we were searching for. She really didn't want to be found."

"Sounds like you've had some adventures with Jun," Zuko observes, pressing his fingers down into her shoulder blades and massaging her muscles. She groans in appreciation.

"Just living life," she says after letting out a whooshing breath. "What's it worth if there's not any excitement?"

And for some reason this makes Zuko frown. He rolls his hands against her shoulders for another minute or two before pulling away and lying back down. He stretches his legs and pops his knuckles, mulling over the pros and cons of staying in bed with the waterbender all day.

Zuko glances at her out of the corner of her eye. Katara's hair has fallen over the scarred side of her face, and she seems to not even notice it. Zuko's lips part; he's going to ask her about her face. He's asked her about all her other scars. But he quickly closes his mouth.

Once again, Katara doesn't owe him anything.

Katara props her head up on her palm and peers down at him, the ends of her brown waves tickling his chest and abdomen. "Can I ask you a serious question?" She looks solemn.

Zuko suddenly feels the itching, burning need to get up. But he stays where he is. "I suppose," he says a little bitingly. It's too early for this kind of seriousness.

"Have you ever done anything that you really, really regret?"

She thinks the answer is obvious. He is a murderer after all. So when Zuko says, "It's more like what I didn't do," her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Zuko keeps quiet for a moment, deciding to draw this out as long as possible. "When I was thirteen my dad let me sit in on one of his war councils. You don't understand, to be allowed to do that at such a young age was a big deal. I sat there next to my father and listened to everything that was said." Zuko sucks in a long breath and breathes it out as a sigh. "One of the generals suggested sacrificing an entire division of new recruits so that another, more experienced division could attack the Earth Kingdom army from the rear. A well devised plan, I guess."

Katara's blue eyes have done wide with horror.

"I always thought," Zuko continues, "that it was wrong. That it was unfair. I wanted to speak out against my father's general. I wanted to tell him how much I disagreed with him. But I didn't. I didn't say a word. After the meeting was over my father patted me on the shoulder and told me he was proud to have me as a son."

Katara looks ill. "That's…did they actually…?"

"Go through with it?" Zuko finishes for her. "Yes. Hundreds of men died." The way he says it is cold. Too cold. But Zuko has never allowed himself to dwell on this particular event.

"You should've spoken out," Katara says, voice firm but soft in its dismay. "What would your father have done if you had spoken out?"

Zuko slides one shoulder against the bed in an attempted shrug. "He probably would have reprimanded me and wouldn't have allowed me in any more meetings until I was older."

Katara looks as if she would like nothing more than to reprimand him. She opens her mouth to presumably do so, but Zuko quickly changes the subject. Something way too close to shame is crawling up his throat and making his face burn.

"What's something you regret? Besides the obvious."

They won't talk about her mother again. He knows that she doesn't want to.

He inspects Katara to come up with something quickly, perhaps another story about her and Jun and bounty hunting.

Instead she slowly slides her hair over her shoulder and tilts her head up. Her scars, long and red and ghastly, catch his eyes. He can't look away. It's like he's seeing them for the first time all over again.

"I was mauled by a bear. A snow bear. That's what we call it in the south. I suppose you could say I provoked it." She stops, words hitching in her throat, and Zuko realizes he is not the only person overwhelmed with shame this morning. "Zuko… I did it on purpose."

He feels his body turn cold. "What?"

"I wanted it to..." She cannot look at him. "And it would've if my brother hadn't been there." She sniffs a couple of times, as if determined not to shed any tears. "Grief is a potent thing."

And this Zuko understands.

Katara ducks her head; her hair falls over her face and she is hiding. But she hasn't left yet. Zuko thinks that that's what matters.

He brushes his hand across her jaw gently before leaning in and pressing kiss against her mouth. He pulls away quickly, leaving Katara looking up at him in confusion.

With a wolfish smirk he lifts the sheets over his head and ducks underneath them before placing kisses across Katara's belly. As he starts to move lower he can hear Katara's breathing quicken In anticipation.

Zuko likes to return favors as well.

Katara peels the skin off of a tangerine before popping some in her mouth. Her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head and she hums in satisfaction. Zuko watches as she chews slowly, and then swallows.

And then she looks down at her tea in distain. She reluctantly sets her fruit to the side before taking a sip and nearly gagging. She then plops three sugar cubes into the cup.

"That's six sugars, now," Zuko points out in amusement. In his defense, he did not make this tea.

"You're lucky you don't have to drink it." Katara narrows her eyes at him before taking another sip. She winces, but her grimace is not nearly as pronounced as before.

Zuko drums his fingers against the table. "Well, you don't have to drink it. But then we'd have to stop sharing a bed. In fact, I'd probably have to move you out of my room."

Katara guzzles the rest of her tea, likely scolding her mouth. She sets the cup back down onto the table. "Don't be silly." The corner of her mouth curves and she bends over the table, eyes scanning her newest scroll.

Zuko could easily spend the rest of the afternoon watching her read. Sometimes she'll stick her tongue out between her lips in concentration. Sometimes she'll move her fingertips in circles across her knee without realizing it. Sometimes the ends her hair fall into a half empty tea cup or dip into a fruit tart. She usually never notices until her hair is already tangled and sticky.

And for some reason watching her read is relaxing to Zuko, like writing a letter to Uncle or drinking.

Suddenly a scroll is being shoved against his hand.

"Zuko, what does that character mean?" Her face is completely serious.

Zuko glances down at the character she's pointing out. "It means 'to stab'. Is that another Painted Lady scroll? What, are you hoping to one day become the Painted Lady?"

Katara ignores his last two statements. "How gruesome," she comments, sliding the scroll back in front of her. "I can't imagine what it'd be like to be stabbed. Really stabbed, I mean."

"I suspect it would hurt."

Katara snorts, eyes already darting up and down as she reads.

It is then that Zuko realizes that this new phase of his life has become quite comforting.

It is then that Zuko realizes that this could be permanent.

Zuko lets himself into his father's office, startling the guards posted outside.

Ozai does not look up at him from where he is bent over his desk. "You knocked up the waterbender, didn't you?"

Zuko's rolls his eyes. "No. We're being precautious."

Ozai straightens up in his chair before tossing the parchment that he was reading to his side. "I am not stupid, Prince Zuko." He folds his fingers underneath his chin. "You've come to talk to me about the waterbender. Might I add, I don't understand your fascination with her. She's about as attractive as an ostrich-horse."

This slight toward Katara is like a slight toward Zuko. It slices into his chest. But he brushes his anger aside and forces himself to concentrate on the task at hand. "You've told me multiple times that you want her matched with someone in a high, important family, so that their potential waterbending children will go to the finest schools, have the finest trainers, become the epitome of noble, Fire Nation citizens, yes?"

Ozai nods, golden eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"But by doing so the waterbender would be taken directly out of our control," Zuko continues, growing more and more confident with every word. "She could become corrupted, she could run away, she could escape with any children she might have to the Earth Kingdome or worse, the Water Tribes." Zuko leans forward, keeping eye contact with his father. "She's much cleverer and more determined than the other volunteers, father."

"What exactly are you implying?"

Zuko spreads his hands. "Why not keep her here, in the palace? Better yet, why not keep the waterbender and any of her potential waterbending children in the royal family?"

Ozai's eyes go wide and his mouth snarls with ferocity, but Zuko plunges on.

"What kind of message would having a waterbending prince or princess of the Fire Nation send to the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes? It would tell them that anything they can, we can do. A waterbending child that goes beyond Fire Nation nobility, but represented the Fire Nation as a whole…you can't deny that they would be powerful. They would have all the world at their feet."

"And they would be yours." Ozai does not phrase the statement like a question. There is disgust in his voice.

Zuko says nothing.

Ozai watches his son for a long, long time. Finally he leans back in his chair and deeply frowns. "I will think over what you said, Prince Zuko. I will present this matter to my council and they shall decide. But, my son, you do realize what you're doing?"

Zuko blinks, awaiting his answer.

Ozai gives his son a cruel smile. "You're condemning your pet to the life of a mistress. And, as much as they might assure you otherwise, no woman enjoys living in the shadows."

He waits two weeks. Two weeks.

His father has given him his answer through silence. There are whisperings about, from servants and from nobleman, that soon the waterbender will no longer be a volunteer. She will be officially accepted into the palace household, and under the constant protection of Zuko's guards.

Azula will not be able to touch her without being punished.

Not that she's shown much interest in the waterbender since the day she watched Zuko train.

He walks into his bedroom and does not immediately spot Katara. For a brief moment, he panics. But then he remembers the balcony, and there he finds her watching the sun set. The sunlight bounces off of her, exaggerating her features.

"Hello." She doesn't look at Zuko when she greets him. She slowly turns toward him, eyebrows drawn together. She looks…somber and apprehensive. "I need to talk to you," she says, voice low and shaky.

Zuko watches her for a moment before gulping. "Funny, I need to talk to you too."

Katara wrings her hands. "Oh? Well, you go first."

She's stalling, but Zuko skips right ahead into the conversation, determined to share his news.

"I talked to my father. You've been removed from the Project and will be allowed to stay. You'll be put under the protection of my guards. You and I, we can be…together. We can be together."

"Zuko, what are you saying?" Katara's face has gone ashen. And then she seems to understand. "You're not asking me to marry you, are you?"

Zuko winces, heart beating too fast. "Well, no. A member of the Water Tribes as the Fire Lady… the Fire Nation is hardly ready for that. But you'd be my companion." Companion is the gentlest word that Zuko could come up with.

She watches him for a long time, ocean eyes absorbing his every move, his every expression. Zuko thinks that she might smile, that she might nod with nervousness and then embrace him.

Instead she says, "Are you crazy?"

Time seems to stop and for a moment Zuko cannot think of anything to say. He is not used to shock. "What?"

Katara shakes her head. "Zuko, I can't stay here with you. I don't belong here. I never did. That's what I was going to talk to you about. I was going to ask if…if I could leave."

"You want to leave," Zuko repeats, voice as hard as stone.

Katara sucks in a shuddering breath. "It's just, what would I do if I stayed, Zuko? Have your bastard children?" she snaps, and Zuko catches on to her suddenly growing anger.

"They would be legitimized—"

"Oh, well how wonderful," Katara growls, throwing her hand up in the air. "I can stay here and give you children that would grow up under your watch, that would Fire Nation?"

"That's not—"

"Don't deny it. You would use any waterbending children I'd have as a weapon. They would be taught to hate the country that their mother is from! Because that's what you people do here, you spread hate."

"That's not true."

Katara's eyes flash.

"I don't hate you," Zuko admits. It is a straightforward confession, and Zuko wonders why it even feels like a confession at all. It is nothing more than the truth.

All the fight seems to drain out of the waterbender. She slumps against the balcony railing and sighs. "There's nothing for me here if I stay, Zuko." She swivels her gaze onto him, nothing but vulnerable. "But you could always come with me."

Zuko takes in a sharp breath of surprise. That was something that he had never considered. Could never consider. He knows as soon as she says it that it is impossible.

"And give up my throne, my birthright? Leave it to my sister? No. I could never do that."

Katara stands still, and Zuko can feel her sadness.

He feels…rejected. It is not a feeling that Zuko is used to, nor does he enjoy. Therefore he retaliates.

"Perhaps you should just go ahead and go."

"W-What?"

"You should leave now." Zuko does not let his bitterness seep into his voice. "What's the point in you staying, then? If you don't want to be here, then go."

"Zuko—"

"Then go."

She reaches out to touch his elbow, but he jerks it out of his reach. She brushes by him and he follows, shutting the balcony doors behind him. He sits on the edge of his bed and stares at the floor.

He hears her maneuvering around, although he isn't sure why. It's not like she has many possessions. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her lean over his desk.

"Can I take a scroll—"

"No."

"But—"

"Just go."

She lingers in the doorway, and Zuko is suddenly flooded with images of all the other girls who have lingered in his doorway. Those images always brought relief, relief that he was finally going to be left alone. But what he's seeing now, the sight of Katara going, brings bile to his mouth.

What was even the point in caring.

She locks her eyes with his and opens her mouth, probably to say goodbye.

Zuko turns his head.

He hears the door softly shut.

Sometime later, either minutes or hours, Zuko gets to his feet and leaves his room. There is a bottle of rice wine in the kitchens that will be entirely his tonight.

Going into oblivion would be better than staying here.

As he walks down the corridors, someone grabs his arm sharply and whirls him around. He opens his mouth to yell at them before pausing in astonishment. "Ty Lee?"

His childhood friend looks nervous. She tugs on his arm. "Come on."

He runs after her, a horrible feeling churning in the pit of his stomach.

Ty Lee leads him in a parlor, the parlor where Zuko had seen Katara and her scars for the first time.

Azula and the waterbender are at the table, a teapot between them. Katara stands up as soon as Zuko enters the room.

"Azula," Zuko snaps, "what's going on?"

Azula gets to her feet and pushes her chair back. There is a guard stationed at every corner. Zuko recognizes the man to his right as one of the guards that used to stand outside Katara's room. That particular time period seems so long ago.

His sister walks around the table and throws an arm around Katara. "Zuzu, I found your pet trying to leave. I was a little concerned. I'd never seen her walking the halls with such purpose before. So I thought we'd drink some tea and she'd tell me what was going on, what kind of spat you two were having. It's a lover's spat, is it not?" Azula tugs on a lock of hair that had been covering the scarred side of Katara's face. "Lover's spats are usually so silly."

Zuko steps forward cautiously. "Azula—"

His sister huffs. "Why are you so suspicious?"

Zuko swallows, suddenly afraid. "Let her go."

Azula taps her chin in mock thought. "You know, I don't think I will. After all, you were letting her walk away. I guess that means she's fair game, right?"

Faster than Zuko thought was possible, Katara brings the tea from the teapot to her hands, forming a long, sharp dagger. She turns swiftly on her feet and drives it toward the Fire Princess' face, skimming the icy blade over her neck.

Azula gasps in pain before pivoting to the side and knocking the dagger out of Katara's hand with a round kick.

"Very impressive," she coos.

Katara turns around, hands forming into fists. She clearly wants to surprise Azula by whirling around and punching her. Zuko does not have time to yell, to warn her to run because Azula will never fight fair. He doesn't have time to tell her that you should never turn your back on his sister.

Azula turns, pulls one of the swords out of a guard's scabbard and then shoves it through Katara's back.

The end of the blade sticks out of the middle of Katara's chest, slick and red.

He sees blue, blue eyes. He sees her cough, sees blood dribble out from between her lips.

Zuko's waterbender falls to her knees and all the Prince of the Fire Nation can do is scream.

A/N:

:(

Please don't hate me forever. Also, there's one chapter and an epilogue next. Please let me know all your thoughts.