AN: Like I stated previously, this year's prompts were done in a bit of a rush. I went away for most of my vacation and so I had no computer on which to type. I came home three days before my school started again and I knew that once it started I'd have very, very limited time to write fics. And my school started a week ago which meant I only had one week, anyway. So I was just a leetle stressed.

When I saw this prompt I immediately went into an internal war with myself: Should I re-post Secrecy or should I write a whole new fic? Secrecy would have fit so perfectly and it was posted so long ago… But in the end I knew I just couldn't do it. So the heat was on to find something else to write about.

And pretty soon I came up with this. I've had this idea for a Korra fic brewing in my head ever since the show was announced. I'm going to wait until the show comes out, however, so I can suss things out a bit before I actually write it. This plot idea includes a few mentions of events that happened before Korra was around. While I was thinking about Korra I suddenly realized that I could actually use one of the events I plan to mention and actually write it out.

And that is what gave rise to this. You will, obviously, see this again. So if you don't like it you know you probably won't like that future fic =P As with most things you build up inside you when this came out it didn't come out as great as I expected. But I still love the idea (and this writing style is so much fun to do even if it does make the fic terrible) so please, be gentle. I know it's not very plausible at all and that Zuko and Katara are almost horribly OCC and a whole lot of other problems. I'm really sorry for that – I will possibly come back and edit this in the year before Korra arrives.

I hope it isn't too awful. And con crit is so, so welcome. I do apologise for using Zutara Week to give life to my plot bunnies.

Disclaimer: None of it is mine except the idea of The Night. And I highly doubt anybody would want to claim or steal that.

Day Four: Secret

Some people said that the appearance of two comets in the space of three years was a sign that the world was about to end. Even those who believed the doomsday prophesies could not entirely stop the excitement that the second comet brought.. It's name was unknown; it was called only the Spirit Comet because of the bridge it built between the spirit world and the normal world with its coming. Many stories surrounded its origin, purpose and strange appearances. Nobody could quite pinpoint how many years it took before it again passed their skies but its coming was always heralded by the stars glowing an unearthly colour a week before it arrived. It would be visible to the people for longer than Sozin's comet was: almost a day and a half. It's peak – the time when it was at its most glorious – would happen, as it always did, at night.

And that comet-protected night was the Night of the Coveted.

Nobody knew when or where the tradition started. Tales and speculations and curses about the Night were recorded in the scrolls of every nation, tribe, kingdom or temple – scrolls that dated back to times long, long before the war. And although some disapproved none would dare oppose the ritual.

Thus the Night arrived tinged with anticipation and an almost unearthly thrill.

The Night of the Coveted was named rather appropriately, yet still discreetly enough not to give too much away to younger ears when it was discussed. The 'ritual' of the Night was rather simple, yet it had been known to cause as much devastation as an attack. The Night of the Coveted was the one night where a person was allowed to go and be with the one he or she desired but could not and did not have. Guys sought out the girl that was snatched up by somebody else and girls went after their first loves. Everywhere people went and met with the person they loved yet knew they could never have because of circumstance, a deeper love for somebody else or the hand fate had dealt them. It was the one night in a person's life when what could have been could happen for a few short hours. And whatever happened during the course of the Night could never, ever be questioned, discussed or dwelled upon.

The secrets of the Night of the Coveted would remain veiled and unjudged forever.

The night air was pleasantly cool on Katara's skin as she reclined on the hill and watched the stars. The comet was the brightest thing in the sky, lighting up the world as if it was day. The moon was nowhere to be seen. A part of her suspected that this was because not even the spirits got to behold the happenings of that night. The Waterbender chewed her bottom lip gently, her heart clenching ever so slightly as she thought again about the Night. She had only heard of it a week ago, when the signs of the comet's coming had blazed themselves across the sky. A part of her was disgusted at the allowed infidelity. But another part of her understood the world's need for such a night. She was, however, wise enough to know that the actions of the Night may be pretended away by everybody else but they would stay with you for the rest of your life. Once you allowed yourself to feel something as strong as even selfish love you would never forget it.

A girl ran a few feet away from Katara, giggling as she dragged a boy after her. They were obviously on the hunt for a secluded place to spend the Night doing spirits-knew-what. A bit of her reproached, disgusted, at the thought. Another bit of her smiled in supportive glee for the good fortune of the girl. And the last part of her shriveled as she was forcefully reminded that she sat alone.

She didn't know where Aang was. And, quite honestly, she didn't want to know. She didn't want to know if he was asleep or meditating or with another girl. She knew she'd never be able to bear it if the latter was true. She wondered then, for only a split second, if he was with Toph. In a twisted, heartbreaking way it would make sense.

Katara shut her eyes, burying her face in her hands to try and push out the thoughts and feelings. She could not think about the Night and its implications, not only because it hurt and caused inconceivable jealousy but also because it awakened other feelings inside her that she could not face.

She lay back and again watched the stars, pulling out constellations and trying to remember the stories that went behind them. A movement made her jerk to the side only to see the first and last person she wanted to see right then. Zuko, attracted by her movement, swiveled to face her at once, face surprised. He relaxed when he saw who it was and then quickly realized he might be interrupting something. His eyes scanned the grass around her and came up empty. At the same time Katara was looking over his shoulder, the same automatic expectation in her head as was in his. When the minutes stretched and no Mai appeared she understood.

They found understanding in each other's eyes.

Slowly Zuko made his way over to her, silently lowering himself to the ground beside her. Neither of them spoke nor looked at each other. Instead they turned their sights back to the heavens, both gazing at the stars but not seeing much at all. Katara shifted and her hand brushed Zuko's. She stiffened, expecting something to happen, but the silence continued to blanket around them.

Then, abruptly, Zuko stood up. His entire body was tense and his jaw was working. He had taken all of a dozen stamped paces away from her when he stopped and turned back, mouth wordlessly attempting to explain himself to her. Katara watched and understood. His gold eyes were burning and the floodgate opened in her head. She sat up and curled in on herself, not unlike she had when he'd tumbled into the catacombs after her those years ago in Ba Sing Se.

She couldn't think those thoughts. She couldn't remember those memories. She couldn't feel those emotions. Not about Zuko. Not even on the Night of the Coveted. Not about Zuko.

Her eyes were huge and almost petrified as she looked into his burning eyes, pleading silently with him as her heart thudded and her breathing hitched. When she thought she was going to enter a state of near-hysterics Zuko moved, walking towards her and grabbing her hand. His pull was direct enough for her to know for sure what he wanted but gentle enough for her to refuse. Both of them knew she should refuse. Both of them knew he shouldn't have been asking in the first place. Both of them knew that some things were not given to them because they were just too purely devastating.

She allowed him to pull her to her feet, allowed him to lead her – silently – back to his palace. She followed him dumbly, not thinking but just doing. He took her to the finest guest room: nobody would enter but he wouldn't have to be reminded by the Night every day. He let her go as they entered, leaving the door open behind her.

A way of escape.

And suddenly he seemed shy; embarrassed and unsure. It was so endearing a smile pulled itself across her face and through her eyes. Her reaction made him smile back and her chest ached at the sight, drinking it in hungrily. That one expression on his face seemed to her more rare than even the occurrence of the comet. Driven by instincts long suppressed Katara moved forward and tenderly ran her fingers across his scar. Zuko shuddered beneath her touch but did not pull away even half an inch, keeping his eyes open and boring into hers.

Two memories surfaced. One a green-hued prison full of tentative beginnings and promises and awe-struck new feelings. The second a flash of deadly blue light suddenly being blocked by flesh and red and gold clothing.

The second image burned into her mind and set her skin on fire. She backed away from him quickly, never once tearing her gaze from him. She knew she had to leave. Once would be one time too many. She couldn't. She simply couldn't. He managed to keep his face free of any form of hurt as she turned away from him and reached the door. Her hand touched the smooth wood and she hesitated, warring with herself.

It was so unfair.

A cry shattered her long silence and she took out her anger by slamming the door as hard as she could. Then she spun around and launched herself at the Firelord, pulling his lips down towards hers.

He didn't hesitate for a second.

And then there were hands – combing, stroking, warming, changing. And the air behind her back somehow changed to a wall. Her own body heat was joined by another's. Neither of them thought; the thoughts had made themselves known too many times before. They knew the thoughts by now. Hands and lips joined together in purpose and they moved on and on – desperate, hungry, relieved, overjoyed.

Damning.

She pushed and he pulled. She inhaled and he exhaled. He held her tight and she let her arms slack against his neck. Perfect harmony and balance. Perfect destruction.

They somehow made it over to the bed, her fingers shakily relieving him of his top. They sat and she ceased her exploration of his mouth so she could lean forward and kiss the mark on his chest. She kissed it over and over again for all the times she would want to kiss it in the future and would be unable to do so. He undid the sash of her dress and somehow that made it more difficult to breathe instead of easier. Her body fitted beneath him perfectly as he hovered above her on his hands and knees.

Hopeless harmony was shattered by a distant, fizzing boom.

Both looked to the door quickly but it was still closed. Their inspection turned to the window and the noise was explained: fireworks. Both stayed frozen as they watched the pinwheels of colour race across the sky. Zuko knew he would never find them attractive again. Not after the kisses.

He leant over her again and gently, slowly kissed her from her forehead to the base of her neck. All the wildness was gone from him, replaced by a warmth that was even more captivating to her. And then, deliberate and slow, he hovered right over her and placed a chaste, feather-light kiss to her lips.

At that moment the last, special firework screeched across the sky. And the Night of the Coveted was over.

The proud, mighty Firelord sagged on his arms, head hanging and hair thankfully concealing his face. The Waterbending Master crawled out from under him – careful not to touch him at all – and quickly retied her dress. Then she walked silently from the room, shutting the door behind her.

She barely made it back to her room before the tears came.

She had tasted heaven but was only good enough to live with earth. But she would remember the taste for as long as she lived. Even though she knew it wasn't good enough to destroy everything to own she would remember it for the rest of her life.

That was her secret to take to her grave.