Katara woke with a start. Gasping for breath she glanced around the plain room she had claimed as her own in their stay at the air temple. It was almost empty, save for her bags in the far corner and the bed she lay in.
Sighing she threw off her thin wool blankets and pulled on her tight leather boots.
Since Zuko came she never left her door unlocked, and since the dreams started she never took her clothes off to sleep.
The dreams unnerved her, she had never thought of Zuko in that way, she had thought him handsome, or pleasant looking, but never to the extent that her dreams made him to be.
She gave an annoyed rumble as she stood and, unlocking the door, left the room, running her thin fingers through her long dark brunette hair as she went.
The morning air still clung to the icy chill of night, making her wish she had brought one of the blankets with her.
It was a short walk to the fountain where they had most of their meals.
She rummaged through the packs left by the fountain until she found her flint and steel. Of course she could wait for Zuko to wake and ask for him to help her, but she would never stoop so low, she was perfectly capable of lighting a fire without him.
With her search successful she stood and caught her own reflection in the water, her skin was not quite the natural dark bronze color of her tribe, but it wasn't as light as the other nations. Her people prided themselves in their unique colored skin, said it was a gift from the spirit of the ocean to protect them from the burning of the sun.
Her dark blue eyes were lit with the longing she normally saw when she thought of her home or people. Her small delicate nose came out sharply from her face, her father had called it a sparrowhawks nose, he said it was a gift from the creator of women, a beautiful thing, of course he had said it whenever Sokka had made fun of it. She sighed as she touched it, remembering her father and the way he used to tap her nose and make her laugh.
Then her eyes blazed with angry blue fire as she looked at her hair, a big bushy mess. Even her little braids on the side of her face had come out.
Dropping her flint and steel on the edge of the fountain, she attacked her hair with her fingers, using her waterbending to smooth out the frizzes. After a bit of a struggle she had her hair in order again, its perfect single braid running down to her waist and the two smaller ones drooping from her forehead to her long braid at her neck. Sighing at the normality of it she left and walked back to the fire pit where she wrestled a misshapen log from the pile and into the pit.
Before she would spend hours staring at the kindling and useless sparks she created she glance around her. The morning sky beyond the cliff barely had a tinge of blue to its velvety black as the sun rose behind them, the stars were mere memories and the clouds were like misty dreams streamed across the sky.
Other than her own breathing the only sound was the water in the fountain as it splashed against the sides of its prison, longing to spread its wet self over the parched ground.
Footsteps in one of the nearby corridors recalled her back to her duty, breakfast. Groaning she knelt down and put a small pile of kindling on the large log and began to strike the steel and flint together.
It was the sharp spicy scent that told her who it was, and she nearly let the steel fall from her fingers with the shock. Gaining control over herself again she continued to attack the steel.
She knew what he was going to ask, he did it every time he saw her like that. She had an answer ready.
"You sure you don't need any help?" he said in his ridiculously attractive voice that had her suppressing shivers of pleasure.
"Listen, your highness," she sneered, "I am perfectly able of lighting a fire myself, I have done it since I was five years old and can still do it."
She watched his reaction from the corner of her eye, first he was startled, and then his face burned with anger. But then, she didn't know why it still surprised her because he did it often now, the anger dimmed to a calm stoic expression.
He sighed and muttered, "very well," and continued to the cliff's edge.
She sat there for another ten minutes before one of her small sparks finally caught. With a triumphant smile she began to pile more wood on top of the tiny flame, careful not to smother it.
She picked up one of the many pots that sat by the fire and effortlessly bended water from the fountain and into the pot and set it over the still small fire to boil. As she waited she began cutting vegetables for the stew, and as she did she couldn't help but watch Zuko as he went through his morning exercises.
The sun wasn't quite high enough yet for a proper firebending work out, as he'd told Aang once, so he was baring the Dou swords. She watched as he went through what could only be called a dance with invisible opponents.
Even so distant she could see his golden eyes burning with an adrenaline fueled fire. The faint sunlight gave his pale skin a bright glow that had nothing to do with the sheen of sweat that was beginning to form. His shaggy dark hair moved slightly behind him with every step and leap, every time it fell it brushed against the dark scar over his left eye, that was the only mar on his face.
Abruptly he stopped and removed his red and black fire nation tunic. Katara felt her breath catch in her throat; even from her distance she could see every well defined muscle in that broad chest.
Katara felt her cheeks burn and she glanced down at her hands with the knife and mangled carrot slices, out of the corner of her eye she noticed that finally the fire had gotten large and the water in the large pot was boiling.
Glad, and yet at the same time disappointed, to have a reason to look away from the Zuko she began to pour the chopped vegetables and a few crushed herbs into the water. She began using her waterbending to stir the contents.
But soon her gaze was caught again by a sudden burst of flame. Amazingly enough he was outlined by the rising sun behind him as he leapt into the air with a flaming kick. Katara felt her heart leap with him, yet it stayed confined inside her chest.
As he continued with the exercises Katara realized that she was staring again and turned back to the soup which was now a thick milky color with small bits of veggies here and there.
She bit her tongue and silently berated herself for her stupidity. He's the enemy stupid, she told herself, he may think he's good but he is unstable and easily swayed. It will just take a shove to turn him back. He's dangerous. To all of us.
Another part of her seemed to wake up, the part that, for a while, seemed to only exist in her dreams, but he is good now, he left a lot to join us.
Katara bit angrily at the inside of her cheeks. He betrayed us all in Ba Sing Se, he could do it again, he can't be trusted.
You seemed willing to trust him last night.
As she had the silent argument with herself, she hadn't heard Aang's ever so silent approach. "Hey Katara, how's breakfast coming?"
Struggling to hide her surprise with a wide smile she answered, "Morning Aang. It's coming great; I found some honey in one of our bags so we can sweeten it if we want to."
He smiled back at her, then his gaze turned to Zuko who apparently hadn't even noticed his approach. He was continuing with a series of moves that Katara now realized she hadn't seen a firebender use before. The moves were more graceful than the series of punches and kicks that she had normally seen.
They seemed to go faster, Katara felt as if it were building to an unseen climax, until a voice cut through their fascinated silence and Zuko's concentration.
"Hey, I don't smell any meat in that pot!"
Zuko tripped in his surprise, falling on forward, and barely catching himself. The fire vanished.
Katara couldn't help but smirk at his cursing he failed to stifle before answering her older brother who had just sauntered out of the cavernous halls of the temple. "I think you can survive one meal without meat Sokka."
She watched in amusement as his dark skinned face twisted in a grimace, "No I can't!"
"If you want to make two soups every morning, then be my guest and I will finally sleep in."
His face fell and he grumbled something to the point of consent.
It didn't take long for the others to wake and gather around the fire.
Teo and The Duke, who shared a room, due to the fact that The Duke had nightmares and Teo needed help getting from his bed to his chair, were the ones to follow Sokka.
And soon Toph, who made a surprised comment at 'Snoozles' being up before her, followed them.
Finally Haru was the last to join them.
Katara smiled at him as she scooped him a portion of the soup into one of the many bowls they had collected.
He smiled back as he took it. "Morning Katara, how are you?"
"Good, other than the sulfur contaminating my air," she indicated Zuko and Aang who were deep in a conversation about the traits of firebending and how it related to the other three forms.
He sat beside her and took a sip of the soup and said, "Well, it didn't affect your cooking, which is, as always, delicious."
She smiled at the compliment and turned back to her own bowl, which was only half empty.
The bowls didn't hold much, a lot of them could eat five portions (Sokka), and this was only her first bowl. For some reason her stomach was in painful knots that had nothing to do with her cooking or any illness.
Must be nerves, she thought, but why am I nervous. She felt strangely tired.
Maybe it's those dreams.
She couldn't stop the thought from rising to the surface and she felt her cheeks burn as she glanced at Zuko from the corner of her eye.
He was smiling, a smile that seemed to come so easily to the face she could only picture with a frown or a glare, in fact, it seemed more natural see him smiling. And as he talked with Aang he spoke with a kind voice, and she realized that the way he'd been treating Aang lately, was like a little brother. That was the only way to explain it, he and Aang seemed a lot closer since the time they disappeared to the Sun Warrior ruins.
"Katara,"
She turned back to Haru who was staring at her in concern, "Are you okay?"
She smiled and nodded. "Yeah," she glanced around the camp and saw the basket of clothing she had collected yesterday but never had a chance to clean yet. Sighing, she stood, "Aang, is it okay if I take Appa up to the stream to do the laundry?"
He looked up from his conversation with Zuko to say, "Sure, be careful."
"Thanks"
"Why don't you use the fountain," The Duke asked innocently.
"That's our drinking water," Sokka explained.
She picked up the basket and walked over to the large white six legged bison. Realizing she wanted a ride Appa crouched down so she could climb on easily with the large basket in her arms.
The whole time she felt a warmth on the back of her neck, as she turned to take the reins she could've sworn she saw Zuko turn around to look at the embers that were all that was left of the fire. She struggled to settle her dancing heart with painful memories of Ba Sing Se
The air was a bit warmer as the sun rose higher in the clear blue sky. Appa easily climbed the air until they were above the temple and gliding over the cliff that it suspended from. Grass blanketed the mountaintop with small clutches of bushes and trees. They didn't have to go far before they reached the clear stream. Well, it was a bit larger than a stream, but not quite a river.
Relieving Appa of his burden she let him wonder through the grove she had chosen to land in.
Throwing the laundry to the side she began to remove her outer clothing until she was left in her wrappings.
Gratefully she stepped into the cold stream, her skin still tingled with the heat of Zuko's stare, and she imagined steam coming from where the water touched her.
Raising a long stream of it she wove it over her head. The water was so soothing, so smooth and calm.
She bent her water until the sun was at its peak before returning to the clothes.
She wove her water through every article of clothing, cleaning it thoroughly.
Sometime while she was cleaning she had begun singing, it was a lullaby Sokka said their mom used to sing. It was a simple melody about the serpents of the sea and their dance in the ocean.
She had finished the song for the third time and was nearly done with the laundry when she noticed that the grove was silent.
Even Appa's normally heavy breathing was missing.
Gripping a icicle in her hand like a knife, she stood and listened.
She never heard a sound, she just felt the pain in her shoulder as the knife buried itself there, and then she was submerged in darkness.