A/N: Okay, so I know there was a HUUUUUGE gap between this update and the last, but I'm really working on it. I just started my first semester of freshman year in college and I'm an interior design major a.k.a. I'm in the studio pretty much 24/7 doing projects and sketching and things that are not as fun as writing this. So please, I'm begging you to stay with me here! I'm finishing this story, definitely. There will probably be more gaps between updates, but I'm hoping to keep them to a minimum. So, as an apology for making you wait so long, here's a super long, sappy Chapter 14!

Favorite, review, ENJOY!

We walked through the main square, silently regarding our surroundings.

Well, at least I was pretending to.

I was more aware of the wonderful warmth from the hand encompassed around my own, and the way my palm was pressed flat against his. But as good as it may have felt, I knew in the back of my mind it was horribly wrong.

This, whatever this was, shouldn't be happening. If there was one person in the world I should know better to stay clear of, it's Zuko, and I was walking myself right into impending disaster. But I couldn't just stay away from him, and the way I felt so drawn to him was terrifying enough to nearly send me running down the street screaming. I never lost control of anything, never let my feelings decide my decisions for me…until I met the arrogant Fire Lord.

I'd tried to convince myself for so long that I was only getting close to him for information's sake, but now, I wasn't so sure. How I felt and how I knew I should feel were two things I knew should never give me trouble. I knew that I should hate him. I knew that he's my enemy, in every way, shape and form.

But around him, everything I thought I knew just didn't matter anymore.

I was losing control over everything: my actions, my emotions and my intelligence…but it felt horribly amazing and scared me out of my wits at the same time.

A hand waved in front of my eyes, bringing me back to reality. "Katara?"

"Hmm?"

I could feel his eyes on my face, trying to pull my gaze to his, but I couldn't look at Zuko yet. Not after my sudden realization.

"Is everything alright? You look like you saw a spirit."

I let out a short, shaky laugh. "I'm sorry. Just a little taken aback by everything," I said as I motioned my free hand in front of us. He didn't respond, and I had a feeling that he knew I wasn't entirely talking about the festival.

We'd walked past at least three circles filled with dancing people, and each time, Zuko pretended he didn't notice and dragged me as far away from it as he possibly could. So at the fourth circle, I'd given up on him and just decided to jump in on my own.

I let the hood of my cloak fall back and pulled the knot loose from around my neck. When I slipped my hand from Zuko's, he turned to see what had happened just in time for me to slip the cloak from my shoulders.

His eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"

I shoved my cloak into his hands. "Hold this for me, please?"

And then I ran toward the music and dancing. I could hear Zuko calling after me as I pushed through the circle to its center, but I ignored him. Nothing, not even the Fire Lord himself, could stop me now.

When I reached the center, I didn't exactly recognize the dance they were doing. That was expected, since I'd only been familiar mainly with Water Tribe styles. Nevertheless, I jumped in when the chance presented itself, and grabbed the hands of two girls who seemed close to my age. There was an outer circle of women and a tighter, inner circle of men, and the two circles rotated in opposite directions as everyone kicked and shouted along to the music.

The music pace quickened, and the two circles switched positions as the women ducked under the joined hands of the men. The circles rotated again, the music began to morph into another melody I vaguely recognized, and the men weaved under the women's hands, but didn't form a circle again this time. Instead, they each grabbed the hand of the woman closest to them, my hand included. A young man, maybe four or five years my senior grasped my hand and let his upper body fall into a deep bow, a bright, goofy smile on his face. From my peripheral vision, I could see the other women curtsy in response, so I followed suit, smiling and laughing at the over-dramatic grandeur.

But when I stood back up to meet my partner's gaze, he looked slightly frightened at something over my head. I started to turn to see what it was, but a hand on the small of my back stopped me.

"May I cut in?" Zuko asked, his voice low and menacing. It was more of a command than a request if you considered the tone of his voice. I knew Zuko was capable of being polite because of his upbringing, but his current demeanor made me think it was possible that he'd been raised by wild Ming snakes.

The young man nodded, and from the corner of my eye I could see that Zuko's cloak had been removed altogether so the full force of his glare could be directed at the man across from us. He handed our cloaks and his swords to the man across from us with a, "Hold these," before grabbing my wrist and leading me toward the center of the circle.

"Wait! Let me go," I said as I tried to wrench my arm from his grasp. He didn't respond, but kept a firm grip on my arm despite my pleas.

"Zuko, what the hell was that?"

"Shut up," he said simply with another tug farther into the circle.

Extremely offended, I violently ripped my arm out of his hold and clenched my fists at my side to keep from doing something rash. He tried to grab for my hang again, but grabbed air instead. I stayed out of his reach, but still in hearing range so he could detect the malice in my voice.

"Don't touch me."

Fire Lord or not, I wasn't going to let him speak to me in that manner. I turned and started to make my way back through the crowd of dancing couples, bobbing and weaving my way under hands and dodging kicking feet.

"Wait!" I could hear him calling after me, but I kept my pace steady and my gaze trained on one spot in the distance. I didn't stop until he'd actually gotten in front of me and blocked my path each time I'd tried to sidestep him.

"Just hear me out, Katara. Please."

I looked at him, and I felt my anger ebb a bit. I could see it clearly on his face that he was extremely uncomfortable, and if I hadn't been so vexed, I probably would have laughed at his discomfort. Instead, I waited patiently for what would come next.

His gold eyes flitted to mine quickly, and he swallowed, almost like he was trying to get rid of some nerves. I raised an eyebrow in question.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked without meeting my gaze, glaring at something over my head. My eyes widened. I was expecting an apology, but I guess in a way, this was Zuko's way of apologizing.

A smile slowly tugged at the corners of my lips, and I could feel the rage slipping away. I was learning that it was hard to be angry with Zuko for an extended period of time.

"I thought you couldn't dance?" I curtsied.

"I never said I couldn't," he responded as he bowed back.

"Let me be the judge of that," I said as I raised my right arm, palm up, between us. He mimicked the action, connecting our wrists.

Slowly, we rotated in a circle, wrists always touching, watching each other as if we were engaged in an intense battle. As the music changed, we both spun and joined our other wrists, as if losing the connection would be life threatening. His gaze was smoldering, and I could feel a light blush spread across my cheeks. This was the longest I'd ever looked Zuko in the eye, and now I knew why I never have until now. The way my heart was beating couldn't possibly be healthy.

We both stepped in, until our right shoulders pushed against each other, as we continued to rotate in a circle. Now, our faces were so close that with a tilt of my chin, we could be kissing, and the proximity had the tips of my ears red. Thankfully, the next cue from the music came, and we both stepped away, our backs to each other. I took the opportunity to breathe, letting my heart rate slow infinitesimally, before turning back to him.

The music's pace was picking up, becoming a bit less serious and a lot more upbeat. I gave Zuko a look, challenging him. Let's see what you've got, pretty boy.

I ducked as Zuko's leg kicked up and over my head, then stepped in, hand outstretched, as Zuko swung in, took hold of it, and spun me. Keeping a hold on my hand, he pulled me closer to him until he could wrap an arm around my waist. But just as quickly as he pulled me in, he spun me out. And then we were circling each other, wrists connected again.

This time, it was my turn to kick, but instead of staying grounded, I jumped up and twisted as I kicked, landing in a half-lunge. I could hear some gasps at my improvision from those watching in the crowd near us. Zuko, without missing a beat, crouched down and swept his leg out in a circle, as if to throw me off balance. I flung myself back, flipping into a standing position again. Now we were both switching our weight from side to side in sync, hopping from one foot to the other. Our arms bent at the elbow, and followed our feet as we stepped from side to side.

I kept my eyes on Zuko, entranced. His movements were fluid and powerful, and I should have known I would eat my words; Zuko was a very skilled dancer. He was practiced, but seemed effortless at the same time, and there was an air of dominance about him. He'd completely taken the lead, moving me with him, giving me some freedom, but never quite letting me take control.

He stepped in again, one arm around my waist, tugging me against him. His other hand took mine and held it against his chest, so the back of my hand rested over his heart. We were close, too close for comfort, but I almost didn't mind. I just hoped Zuko couldn't feel the rapid thumping of my heart. The tips of our noses were just brushing and I could feel Zuko's warm breath on my face.

For a moment, I remembered fantasizing as a young girl what it would be like to dance with a prince, like a romantic fool. Now I was, only he was Fire Lord of an enemy nation and a lot meaner than I'd imagined him being. But in his own way, I knew Zuko cared about those around him. The way he would rashly lash out at his uncle, but immediately check his anger showed me just how much he didn't want to lose him.

He twirled me to the music and I followed his lead, kicking and ducking again when my cues came. The tempo grew faster, as did our movements, and I began to feel lighter and lighter, almost like my feet weren't touching the ground. Giggling, I rushed Zuko, and he to me, but right before we hit each other, I slid against the ground and he flipped over me, landing lightly on his toes. I could hear more murmurs of approval from the crowd, and in my peripheral vision, I could see a few couples nearby stop to watch our rendition of the dance.

Zuko and I went back to switching our weight from foot to foot. A smile seemed to be plastered to my face, and when I looked at Zuko, I could tell he was enjoying this too, even if he hadn't wanted to try it in the first place.

He grabbed my hand again, spinning me in and out, then twirled me around so my hair splayed out in the air around me. And I was suddenly aware that we'd attracted a rather large audience now. The other dancers had stopped to watch, joining in to clap along to the music with the crowd.

I chuckled nervously, hyper aware from being in the spotlight, but one word from Zuko melted my worries away.

"Impressed?"

And then I began genuinely laughing.

"Not a bit, Your Highness. I think I'll need one more dance to be sure."

We browsed around a few stands on one of the quieter side-streets that branched off the main square once we'd broken away from our crowd of circling admirers.

"We could start a traveling dance show," I murmured as a few girls whispered and giggled behind us. I rolled my eyes, skimming my fingers over a spread of chokers laid out on the table before me. "You've already got the groupies' vote."

He glanced behind us and, from what it looked like, seemed to be turning a light tint of pink. The groupies took that as an invitation to approach him, and started gushing over how amazing he'd been. They started fighting to get closer to him, elbowing me out of the way to get a better position, and I decided that it'd be safer for me to put some distance between myself and Zuko's newest group of fan-girls.

I brushed the tips of my fingers over a few necklaces and chokers, trying to keep my attention on the table in front of me instead of the conversation happening a few feet away.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" A short brunette asked, touching his arm, since that was all she could reach, in what I guessed was her attempt of flirtation. Her effort was in vain though, when Zuko flinched as if he was under attack. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing and moved onto the next stand.

"I don't-"

"Dance with me?" another dark-haired girl asked, her eyes widened in an attempt to seem innocent, but the way she was biting her lip seemed a little promiscuous. I glanced over from where I stood, watching as the girls fussed around Zuko, flipping their hair and batting their eyelashes more times than necessary.

He looked uncomfortable, and I knew that I should do something, but I felt so vexed and frustrated with him. Helping him was the last thing on my mind. Our eyes met as he tried to process what the three girls were saying to him at once, but I cut mine away and looked back at the spread in front of me.

"Thank you, but I should really-"

"Oh, please? Your friend doesn't seem to mind, does she?" The third girl asked a bit louder than necessary.

I needed a distraction. Anything, something, before I punched someone.

My hand stopped on a simple choker made of black silk and a simple red stone, engraved with an intricate design that looked like a flower.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the old vendor asked as he watched me admire the choker. Its resemblance to my mother's necklace was disturbing, but comforting at the same time.

"Yes, very." I traced the carving on the red stone with the tip of my finger.

"It's a Fire Lily," the vendor said, answering my unspoken question. "They only bloom for a few weeks each year, but we've found a way to capture its essence during any time of the year. But trust me, it's no testament to the real thing."

I could only imagine what the real thing looked like if a necklace was this beautiful.

"Do you like it?"

I jumped at the sound of Zuko's voice, unaware that he'd broken away from his group of admirers, who, to my satisfaction, we're looking a bit disheartened.

"Yes, I do. It reminds me of one my mother used to wear," I said quietly, as I toyed with the black silk. I couldn't count how many times a day I'd reach for my mother's necklace, how many times I'd held back tears when I didn't feel my fingertips meet the moonstone that usually hung from black silk on my neck. It was a source of comfort, something I knew could focus me if I'd suddenly felt weak or powerless.

I started to feel the tears well in the corners of my eyes and I quickly blinked them away. I muttered a quick 'thank you' and moved away from the stand.

No crying Katara.

Zuko caught up to me a few moments later, asking if I was alright. I told him I was fine, perfectly fine, then, half-heartedly teased him about leaving his groupies.

"Are you jealous?"

"What? Of course not!"

"Well, that got a better reaction than I expected."

I huffed and rolled my eyes.

"What was your mother like?"

My head spun so fast toward him, I was surprised I hadn't snapped my neck.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked a bit more defensively than I should have.

His looked at me from the corner of his eyes as we walked side by side down the street. We'd stopped walking and I could tell people around us were beginning to become agitated with us obstructing their path.

"If it's a touchy subject, you don't have to tell me. I was just curious."

"Can we take a break from walking?" I asked, ignoring the topic completely.

We found a few wooden crates to sit on at the edge of a nearby alley. I watched people pass by the opening of the alleyway, couples, friends, families. Without realizing, I started looking for mothers. There was one that walked by hand-in-hand with a small dark-haired girl, a look of pure happiness on her face.

I looked to the little girl, her hair plaited into a braid down her back, smiling and pointing toward a magic show across the street. Rashly, she pulled away from her mother, pushed her way through the crowd to get closer to the show, but turned halfway to grab her mother's hand again. Only she wasn't there. I could see her yell 'mom,' try to push her way back toward the direction of where she'd just been standing before. She called for her again, but her mother wasn't there. I could see the panic setting in, and I stood to go comfort her, but her mother was there in front of her again. She wiped the tears away from the small girl's eyes, brushed a stray curl of hair off her forehead, and spoke to her in soft, comforting words. The little girl sniffed, trying to hold back her sobs, but two words from her mother sent her over the edge.

I'm here.

I sat back down on a crate across from Zuko, feeling slightly breathless. I balled my fists in my lap and tried to even out my breathing in an attempt to keep myself from breaking down.

"She was very soft-spoken," I started quietly. I could feel Zuko watching me as I turned my attention back to the mother comforting her daughter, who had tucked her daughter under her chin and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "She never yelled at my brother or me, but you always knew when she was disappointed in us. She had this look about her," I said, smiling to myself. I couldn't count the number of times Sokka and I had been subjected to a hand on her hip and her trademark blue-eyed interrogation.

"At the same time, she was very fierce, and very brave. She's the bravest person I know," I said solemnly as flashbacks of the day she died appeared in my mind. "Well, the bravest person I've ever known." I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

"She died."

It wasn't a question. But I nodded anyway.

"I'm sorry."

And suddenly, I was filled with resentment and rage. I wanted to scream at him until my face turned red, slap and punch him until I fainted from exhaustion. The Fire Lord was apologizing to me! The leader of the nation who'd caused so much destruction in the world and disturbed the peaceful coexistence the four nations had balanced, had said he was sorry.

As if that would make it all better.

As if his grandfather wasn't the one who sent the raiders into my village to find me! As if he hadn't sent another fleet to the South Pole again to finish me off when he knew his grandfather hadn't!

And, as if he didn't know that his people had completely devastated my family and tribe when he ripped my mother from us.

From me.

I had a very strong urge to form a water whip from a nearby water barrel and give him a matching scar on the right side of his face, but I didn't give in.

"Your apology means nothing to me."

We walked in tense silence back to the ship, taking a shorter route through the dunes of the beach. Zuko stayed a few feet behind, giving me space until I cooled down, which was quite intelligent of him. I didn't know how much self-control I possessed. I tended to be a bit over-dramatic when it comes to my mother's death, but then again, who wouldn't be?

But when Zuko had apologized, I'd almost lost it. He didn't even know the weight of his apology. In those two words, he'd unknowingly apologized for an entire war: deaths, casualties and fallen nations included. You cannot just apologize for a war.

I sighed. Maybe I'd been a little too harsh for the wrong reasons. I knew it was really my fault for my mother's death, but I was just looking for another person to blame. They'd come looking for me that day, not my mother.

I turned back to Zuko to start apologizing, but he was more than twenty feet back, looking up at something on a hill in the distance. I pushed my hair away from my eyes, squinting through the darkness at what seemed to be a house on the top of the hill. I walked over.

"Do you know who lives here?" I asked when I reached him, but he didn't answer. He just stared at the house. It seemed to be empty, dark with no light coming from the windows, but the family that lived there could just be at the festival.

Silence. All I could hear were the sounds of waves crashing against the side of a nearby cliff. "I guess not then."

More silence.

"We have to get back to the ship, or-"

Zuko took off up the path that led to the desolate house.

"-they'll notice you're missing."

He was walking briskly up the dirt road, taking large, powerful strides. I was nearly running to keep up with him, my shorter legs taking much longer to cover the distance he already had.

"Your highness, I don't think anyone's home!" I yelled to him as he made his way up the stairs to the front doors. Upon closer inspection, I realized the house seemed familiar. It was the lonely mansion I'd seen as the ship had pulled into the port, separated from the rest of the town and raised on a hill, as if it were placed on a pedestal.

He pulled on the doorknobs violently, and punched the doors when they didn't budge, causing me to flinch in surprise. Then, when punching the doors lost its appeal, he started shoving them with various parts of his body: arms, shoulders, back. Where was this burst of anger coming from?

He stopped struggling to open the door to step back and take a few deep breaths. I was surprised. It wasn't like him to subdue his anger so quickly after it had just begun.

But then I realized his posture wasn't a relaxed one, and that he was bracing himself. I started to yell for him to stop, but my voice was droned out by the sound of his fire blast coming in contact with the huge double doors.

"Zuko! What do you think you're doing?"

"Breaking and entering," he said gruffly as he shoved the charred doors once more, smirking when they gave way easily and fell to the floor of the hallway in front of us.

"Yeah, I think I got that part, Temper Lord. This is someone's house! You can't just barge in, I don't care who you are-"

"It's mine."

I stopped rambling. "Huh?"

"It's my family's summer home. We used to come here when I was a boy," he answered as he made his way down the hallway. I skittered in behind him, looking over my shoulder once to make sure no one had seen us.

We walked past a few rooms on the first floor, most bedrooms with furniture covered in white sheets, other rooms were completely barren. A layer of dust covered everything, a sure sign that this house hadn't been used in a very long time.

"Why did you stop coming here?" I asked as we reached the landing of the staircase. Zuko didn't answer straight away, but walked up to the wall in front of us, pulling a sheet off a picture frame.

It was a portrait of Zuko's family, his father and mother sitting in ornate chairs while Zuko and his sister sat before them on the floor. The late Fire Lord's left hand rested on Zuko's right shoulder, a sign of deep trust and a clear implication: this is my successor. I looked to the young girl, sitting to Zuko's right, Azula. I'd seen her around the castle only a handful of times, but she never failed to send a bone-chilling stare in my direction. Her gaze was cold and calculated, and looking at the picture, I knew she musn't have changed much from childhood.

My eyes traveled up, to a breathtakingly beautiful woman, whom I could only assume was Ursa, Zuko's mother. She looked out from the portrait with a warm gleam in her eye, a small smile forming on her lips. She had the kind of effortless beauty every woman yearned for.

Then, I looked to the younger Zuko. The obvious hit me in the face: the left side of his face wasn't scarred. But his expression stood out to me more than that.

"We used to come…when we were happy."

That was it. Happiness.

Zuko looks happy.

I looked at the current Zuko, scarred and conflicted.

Zuko looked happy.

"What do you mean, when you were happy?" I had a feeling I already knew the answer to that. General Iroh had told me about part of Zuko's past and piecing the events together was becoming easier. But he wasn't answering, and I was too curious to let this go. "Do you mean…before your mother disappeared?"

Zuko's head snapped in my direction. "What?"

"I just-"

"My mother didn't disappear. She was banished by my father, her own husband! The cretin wanted to kill me, but she convinced him to let me live. Then, he banished her and gave me this as a keepsake!" he yelled, pointing at the scar on his face. He was livid, more so than I'd ever seen him before. I'd hit a nerve–scratch that. A knot of nerves.

"I'm–Zuko, I'm so sorry-," I started, stuttering.

"Your apology means nothing to me," he said harshly, throwing my words from earlier in my face. I flinched like I'd been smacked. He sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

"So help me to." Because as much as I push you away, I want to know more.

And then he turned around, grabbed a table by its edges and flung it to the side, sending it and a small vase that had been resting on top crashing to the floor.

"Zuko-"

He let out a roar, punching a fiery fist through the portrait of his "happy" family.

"Stop, Zuko," I ordered him in a shaky whisper, as he sent a chair crashing against the wall across from where he stood. I jumped when he began yelling again, but this time he formed a few coherent sentences.

"He ruined it! He ruined our family! He drove her out! He scarred me! He ruined our lives all because of his need for power!"

The way he was acting was beginning to scare me. I didn't know what to do or how close I could get to him without being tossed across the room along with the chairs and tables. But I had to try something.

I got a hold on his arm as he tried to toss another chair across the room. "Please, Zuko! Calm down!" I yelled over the sounds of crashing furniture and his roars of frustration. I could feel his body trembling, rage rolling off him in waves. He thrashed about in my grip, trying to shake me off, grabbed a small vase, and threw it against the nearest wall.

"It was my fault!" he shouted this time, sounding as if he were nearing desperation. With another thrash of his arm, he'd freed himself from my grasp and sent me crashing into a small table, my back hitting against the wall behind me.

He yelled again, sending a blast of fire through a nearby window, setting the wood paneling and curtains on fire. I covered my face from the heat of his bending and splintering wood.

"IT WAS ALL MY FAULT!"

And then he sent the largest fireball I'd ever seen down the hallway until it broke through the wall and continued out into the nighttime air. He stood at the mouth of the hall, breathing heavily with his eyes squeezed shut like he was in some kind of pain. I slowly eased myself back up, cautiously watching Zuko. He looked like he was having a hard time checking his temper and I had no clue what would set him off again.

The silence was deafening. Paralyzing. I felt as if I couldn't do anything. And I think that scared me more than Zuko's temper. I always knew what to do. I always had things under control. But here I was, the situation completely out of my grasp.

And I had no freaking clue what to do.

But, then Zuko made my decision for me. He began to move again, to send another fire blast down the hallway or just punch the wall, I wasn't sure. But I moved in front of him, hoping, spirits, praying he would realize in his rage that I was there and stop. For a terrifying moment I thought he wouldn't stop, that I would be burned to a crisp along with half the house.

But he did.

He was looking at me, a sad and confused expression marring his features into a grimace. Watching him struggle to cope like this made me realize that we were similar. We'd both lost our mother, we'd both thought it was our fault. But after seeing Zuko like this, I knew it wasn't.

With trembling hands, I reached up to his face, letting the tips of my fingers brush across his cheeks, up and around his scar, pushing the hair away from his forehead. His eyes stayed steadily trained on my face as his breathing slowed.

"It wasn't your fault," I whispered softly.

Zuko's eyes widened. "You don't know that."

"I do."

He looked at me, distrust written plainly in his golden eyes.

I dropped my hands from his face. "My mother was taken from me too."

His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across the scar I'd gotten in the arena. He could be very sweet sometimes. "How?"

I decided to be as honest as I could, without revealing the complete truth. "Raiders came into my village. They demanded that I be brought forth because I–uh–I had something they wanted."

"What did you have?"

This was the tricky part. "I can't tell you that, but I ran to my house to find my mother and-," I swallowed, memories of that day overwhelming me.

His thumb stopped making warm circles on my cheek.

"There was a man in my house," I whispered, not trusting my voice to be steady. "He was asking her questions. Where he could find the person who had what he wanted: me. She saw me in the doorway, and I could see the terror in her eyes. She promised the man she would give him all the information he wanted if he let me go. She told me to find my father, that she would handle it. I ran. I ran as fast as I could to find my father and when I found him, we rushed back to the house together. But when we got there, the man was gone."

My voice was shaking, and I could feel the lump in my throat, but I didn't cry. I knew crying wouldn't bring her back.

"And so was she."

"Katara…"

I took a breath. "That's why I know, Zuko. I know it wasn't your fault. It wasn't mine either. If we were to blame anyone, we should blame our mothers for loving us too much," I said with a short laugh.

He walked back over to the ruined portrait of his family. "I don't know if I believe that."

"Well you should," I answered as I joined him, slipping my hand through his. There were no romantic feelings behind the action. It was purely an act of comfort, from one screwed up friend to another.

"Why?" he asked with a squeeze of his hand.

"Because I'm always right," I returned simply.

That earned a smile from Zuko, and I knew I'd said the right thing.

We snuck back onto the ship without trouble, passing a sleeping guard on the loading dock and making our way back toward our rooms. Zuko walked me to mine in silence, something I wasn't quite expecting. I thought we'd go our separate ways once we'd boarded the ship.

We reached the door to my cabin and stopped, a few feet of awkward space between us.

"Uh," I started, not sure what to say. Thank you? I had a great time, except for that part where you almost burned down your family's summer home? I didn't really know how these things worked.

"Turn around."

"Huh?" I asked suspiciously.

"Just turn, Katara."

I gave him a look that said, 'Don't try anything funny,' and turned my back to him.

A moment passed where all I could hear was the sound of rustling and paper behind me, and I was very temped to turn around to see what he had back there, but then I felt his hands move my hair away from my neck, sending chills down my spine. His fingers brushed against the sides of my neck and I went as still as a statue. What was he doing?

There was a small click and then his hands were gone. I reached up to my neck, surprised to find a pendant hanging from a piece of fabric there. I brushed my index finger over the stone, feeling a familiar design take an image in my mind. It was the Fire Lily necklace that reminded me of my mother's engagement necklace.

I turned to Zuko, a wide smile, I was sure made me seem like a fool, plastered across my face. Without thinking, signature Katara-style, I pushed myself up on my tiptoes and brushed my lips across Zuko's scarred cheekbone. "Thank you, but you didn't have to. Goodnight, Your Highness." I stepped back to open my door, but stopped when I heard his voice.

"Katara."

"Hm?" I asked as I began to turn my head, but gasped when I found Zuko's face merely two inches from my own.

"Goodnight."

And then he brushed the lightest of kisses upon my lips, making my face and chest blush furiously. His golden eyes blazed into my own, and I felt as if I'd found a way to stare into the sun without going blind.

"You looked absolutely beautiful tonight," Zuko said before placing another feather-light kiss upon my forehead and turning to make his way down the hallway.

If I hadn't been stunned into silence, I would have retorted with something like 'so I'm ugly every other day?' but I was pretty sure I was incapable of speaking.

Spirits, I was so done for.

A/N: Yay! So happy I finally got the chapter up :)