CHAPTER THREE
He was sixteen, and they fought at each other's throats, Zuko trying to prove his allegiance to the Avatar and Katara trying to make him pay for the months he spent tormenting her friends.
Even simple chores like collecting firewood turned into arguments. After Appa landed alongside a stream late one afternoon, Zuko was tasked with gathering firewood while Aang drilled his earth bending stances with Toph.
Katara plopped down in the tall grass a few paces from the training, admiring Aang's progress. Aang couldn't concentrate on the bending exercises with Katara so near. He failed to dodge the second boulder Toph hurled towards his head.
"Sugar Queen!" Toph hollered. "Stop distracting us! Get off your butt and help Zuko build the fire."
Katara huffed. After a long day flying, the last thing she wanted to do was spend more time with the Fire Prince. Spending time in close quarters on Appa's back did little to prevent their bickering. If anything, it provided more fodder for their fights. But her stomach growled. Dinner wouldn't cook itself. Her hunger won. Swallowing her pride, she marched off into the nearby grove of trees.
For Zuko, following the stream and collecting the fallen branches littered alongside its banks was simple enough. Maintaining a civil conversation with Katara was much more difficult. Each time he tried to break the silence, he was met with cold politeness.
"I've never seen Appa shed this much," he started. Katara agreed.
A pause. "Do you know what's for dinner?"
"Sokka's going to attempt to cook this evening," Katara snorted. "Better drink a lot of water before we return to camp or you'll have to sleep on an empty stomach."
Zuko's eyes widened. "Oh gods."
A laugh snuck out of Katara's throat, startling Zuko. This was different from when she laughed at him. This was an invitation. He joined in, a rough laugh rising into the forest. When she caught her breath, Katara peered at her companion. Zuko reddened under her stare.
These civil interactions were unfamiliar territory. Zuko ached for the arguing because at least he knew how to respond. He didn't have to fumble for words to say when he and Katara leapt at each other's throats; the words came easily, and without the risk of blushing. In the quiet, he fumbled for a handful of sticks.
"Any fool with one good eye can tell that these twigs won't sustain a fire big enough to cook dinner!" Katara snapped.
Zuko's eyes flashed dangerously. "What did you say?"
"I said, any fool with—" Katara gulped. "Oh spirits. Zuko. You know I didn't mean—"
"Save your apologies," Zuko barked. "I don't need pity from a peasant."
This was the old Zuko. This was familiar territory. Katara knew how to respond to this boy before her.
"Peasant?" she challenged. "This Water Tribe peasant could best you in a match any day."
The thought of fighting her made Zuko uncomfortably hot.
"Spar with me," she goaded.
He unfurled his palm, allowing a flame to grow in his hand. "As you wish."
Katara called upon the stream trickling by their feet.
Just as Zuko assumed he had Katara cornered, a tendril of water lashed out towards his face. Instinctively, he brought his hands up to shield himself, losing control over the fire holding back the water bender.
"Not bad," he ruefully admitted while he rubbed the bruise forming on his cheek.
"You're not the worst," she grinned. "Let's do that again sometime."
The next day, when they flew for hours on Appa's back, Zuko was surprised at the lack of conflict between him and Katara. The way they laughed at Sokka's jokes together almost made it seem like they could be friends. Watching her mouth twist into a smile, Zuko couldn't wait for their next battle.
He was seventeen, and still figuring out how to keep his nation afloat. Ruling was hard, but his decision to appoint Katara as the Water Tribe ambassador to the Fire Nation was the easiest decision he made. She met with his council regularly, and sometimes he concentrated on the curls of her hair instead of the treaties at hand.
Although Zuko admired strength, he was drawn to Katara's compassion that shone through in every negotiation. She cared about the people of the Four Nations, and this was honorable. Zuko liked honor.
After one difficult meeting that ended in a shouting match between him and his councillors on the subject of marriage, Zuko couldn't face dinner with Iroh and his guests. Instead, he retreated to his private courtyard. Sitting in the garden next to the pond, he absently fixated on the turtleducks. Last spring's babies were growing larger. Time and time again, they dipped their heads underwater, foraging. Zuko ignored his hunger. He could take care of that later.
The sun dipped below the horizon. Zuko yawned, unable to control the wave of exhaustion overtaking him. On days like this, he fantasized about leaving the palace, roaming the Earth Kingdom again, maybe joining Katara and Aang on Appa. No responsibilities, just the sky and his friends. But running a kingdom required a sacrifice— his autonomy. He must keep the greater good for his people in mind when making every decision, even preparations for national festivals. Or his future wife.
The bushes behind Zuko stirred. "I missed you at dinner," Katara said, approaching the Fire Lord and taking a seat next to him at the edge of the pond. She held out a sticky bun wrapped in a cloth. He took it with a smile and bit into it.
"Gods bless you, Katara," Zuko praised once he swallowed the first lukewarm bite. It eased his hunger pangs, but did nothing to calm his rapid pulse. He ate in silence, Katara scrutinizing the ducks drawing ripples in the water.
"I'm worried about you," she burst out. "You're acting overwhelmed."
"I'm fine," Zuko lied. "I simply need some time away from—"
"Spar with me," she said suddenly.
Although her challenge blindsided him, Zuko could not turn down a chance to fight. Or, more accurately, spend time with the water bender by his side.
"You should not have fed your opponent," he crowed, igniting a flame and kicking it towards her head.
"Zuko," she grinned, lazily drowning out the fiery attack with a flick of her wrist. "You're not my enemy."
His pulse skyrocketed, but he didn't miss a beat. The next blast of fire almost knocked Katara off her feet.
He was eighteen, and they fought daily when Katara visited the palace. Zuko had to admit her title of Master was well-earned. Most of the soldiers he regularly trained with could not catch him off guard the way Katara could. After dinner each evening, they met in the courtyard garden outside his private chamber. An unspoken agreement. The best part of Zuko's day.
They circled each other one afternoon, fighting to maintain control over their elements. His flames sizzled against her wall of water that she drew from the pond. Katara's brow wrinkled as she struggled to push the tide towards her opponent.
"Draw," Zuko offered.
"Never!" she said, but even as she spoke, her blue eyes twinkled. Was she…? No. Katara didn't flirt. She maintained a friendly distance when Zuko. But here she was, knocking him down with a splash and keeping him pinned against the grass.
"Yield," she panted, kneeling over her opponent.
"Never," he swore hoarsely.
Something in his voice made her freeze. Something in his voice prompted her to lean down until their noses touched. Something in his voice begged her to close the gap between their mouths, but she couldn't. So Zuko yielded. He kissed her.
Sea salt. That's what she tasted like. To Zuko, she was the savor his food had been missing for years. The kiss felt so gentle that for a moment, he thought this was just another one of his fantasies that left him hungry in the morning. Yet here she was, brushing his nose with her nose and his mouth with her mouth, her fingertips resting lightly on his shoulders.
"I won," she whispered once they broke apart.
"No," Zuko smirked, winding his arm around her waist. "I did."
Katara flushed. "I… I… have to meet Iroh for tea," she stuttered, stumbling upright and bolting out of the garden.
When Iroh met Zuko and his friends for dinner that evening, he noticed his nephew's atypical, subtle smile. He also observed the young water bender's abnormally pink cheeks, which went unnoticed by their friends. Toph couldn't see and Aang was too busy cramming sticky buns in his mouth. Iroh wisely decided to say nothing, and contented himself with another cup of ginseng tea.
He was nineteen, and they never mentioned the kiss. Katara's visits to the Fire Palace were less frequent. When they sparred, she ended the matches quickly, win or lose. When they laid in the grass afterwards watching the stars, she recounted legends for Zuko about the moon that her Gran-Gran had shared years ago when she struggled to fall asleep without her mother to tuck her in. When they fell asleep under the stars in the courtyard, her hand found his, snuggling up for warmth.
Gossip circulated the palace, claiming that a wealthy Water Tribe boy asked Chief Hakoda for his daughter's hand in marriage. Rumor had it that Katara turned him down herself. Zuko's heart sunk and leapt. She said no! But now she that she turned seventeen, proposals like these would become more common. How many offers would she turn down before she found a suitable suitor?