Katara and the fire prince are on their way to face the man who murdered Katara's mother, and while she is wracked with grief while conflicted over whether she can trust her companion, they are forced to stay at an inn for the night due to a thunderstorm.
Katara's shoulders ached. She was gazing at the purple sky streaking by above her, the moon stayed ever fixed as the clouds soared by. She could feel Appa grumbling beneath the saddle as she lay on her back, her sleeping bag under her neck and her eyes heavy. Zuko had implored her to get some rest as they narrowed in on their target, or rather her target, and after some stubborn bickering from both parties, she could fight her exhaustion no longer. Zuko sat cross-legged on Appa's furry head, gripping the reigns and gazing down at the restless ocean that separated the earth and water nations.
"It looks like a storm might be coming in," his voice was raspy from the salt water spray and lack of sleep. His voice barely reached her before the wind ripped it away.
Katara turned on her side, not bothering to answer. Her truce with Zuko was tenuous, to say the least, but she could find little anger to spare for the exiled prince anymore. At this moment, she could find little anger to spare at all; it was being eclipsed by a grief that swallowed her more intensely than ever before. When she was a child, the idea of never seeing her mother again seemed like some kind of sick joke, too massive of a truth for her young mind to comprehend. So, she had told herself that her mother had just gone away for awhile or, worst case, been taken prisoner. Her mother would want her to be brave and take care of the men in her family while she was gone, she had thought with something like pride, and so she had filled her mother's shoes for her brother after their father had sailed away.
Zuko's return had snapped something inside of her, fracturing this facade she had carefully constructed in order to survive all these years.
He had been so easy to digest when he had been their enemy, chasing them around the world. Easy to put in a box in her mind, just another face of the nation that had upturned her life, fractured her home. Now, his demonstration of change had brought all kinds of painful realities to the surface. Was it fair to blame a boy barely older than her for the sins of his country? Maybe not, but anger was so much easier to hold onto than allowing her sadness to swallow her whole. She would hold on as long as she could, pushing her doubt to the side.
Appa roared, snapping Katara out of her thoughts. Katara felt a drop of rain on her cheek and slowly sat up, stretching her sore legs. She met Zuko's eyes as he glanced back at her, and she quickly looked away to keep her unpredictable emotions in check. Who knows what she might do if she stopped to think for too long about her present situation, being alone with the exiled fire prince? She might toss him off Appa's back into the ocean, or send raindrops sharpened to spikes to strike true, or worst of all, she might seek comfort in his undoubtedly warm embrace. As she had learned back in the crystal caves of the Earth Kingdom, he understood what it was like to lose his mother so young, and he seemed to be the only one to understand her pain. Sokka barely remembered their mom, looking to Katara to fill the void he barely even sensed.
She shook herself in disgust at the thought of seeking comfort in Zuko's arms before crafting a balloon of water to shield the three of them from the persistent rainfall.
"Katara…" Zuko started, hesitating. Katara still wasn't used to him being so unsure of himself, completely at her mercy instead of constantly being poised to strike, to win.
"The storm," she wearlily finished for him. The weather was worsening, deep gray clouds blotted out the sky and the waves steadily climbed in height. It had the makings of a thunderstorm, and neither of the benders had the energy to fend off the elements tonight. Appa yawned, his altitude slowly declining and his large feet getting dangerously close to skimming the tops of the angry waves.
"We might have to stop for the night and keep going in the morning. Whale Tail Island is another half a day away," Zuko had to raise his voice over his shoulder to be heard.
Katara rubbed her eyes, "I know an inn nearby we can stay for the night, it's just that way," she pointed to a stout brick building perched on the closest body of land. Zuko nodded and tugged at Appa's reigns while Katara maintained her umbrella of water, swooping down to safety.
Zuko scowled as he shook his boots upside down, cups of water spilling from inside. He inhaled deeply before blowing warm air into them while Katara watched with muted interest.
"Huh, would you look at that? Firebending has more uses than war crime and murder," she mused. He glanced at her sheepishly before clearing his throat,
"I could, uh, I could do your clothes too, if you want…"
Katara shook her head before rubbing her hands together, which were slightly numb from the cold without her protective gloves from home, and bending the water from both of their clothes and hair and discarding it in the dingy sink of their lodging room.
"Wow. Right, I forgot you could just do that," Zuko rubbed the back of his neck, eyes tentatively skimming her body up and down, "I could warm you up, if you…"
"No," she cut him off. No way would she let him touch her in any capacity, much less warm her skin with his blazing fingertips, or with any other part of his body, for that matter. She could barely admit to herself her attraction to him, and she gladly shoved it down whenever she sensed these traitorous thoughts creeping up on her. Acting on them simply could not happen. Besides, it wasn't as though he felt the same.
Not that she cared either way.
Zuko nodded wordlessly as Katara climbed into their only bed, arranging the scratchy sheets around herself like a protective shield. Zuko stretched out on the pathetically small blue sofa on the opposite side of the room.
"I hope you do get some sleep tonight. You're going to need your strength, and not just physically. I know what its like to be so determined that you forget to take care of yourself," Zuko spoke in the most self-assured tone she had heard him use since embarking on this trip.
"I was lucky enough to have my uncle there to remind me of that, and while I didn't want to listen to him, he was right."
An image flashed in Katara's mind of Zuko, just a boy not much older than Aang, leading a war ship with an angry blaze in his eyes, determined to win back his father's love. Zuko had surprisingly confided the details of his banishment to her back in the crystal caves in Ba Sing Se, back when she had let herself believe he had truly changed and she had seen him as someone other than her vindictive enemy for the first time. Of course, it was only an hour later that he betrayed her budding trust in him. She was more conflicted about him than ever these days; she could understand the terrible position his father had put him in, but did that excuse the hell he had put she and her friends through?
"Thanks, Zuko. Goodnight," Katara sighed.
"Goodnight, Katara."
Katara woke up for the third time later that night, shivering and chasing away the images of her slain mother behind her eyelids. The dreams produced by her strung out brain kept her from getting proper sleep. She could not will the threadbare sheets wrapped around her to be any warmer, and the storm outside only grew more violent, cracks of thunder wracking the roof above their heads.
Katara sat up with a sigh, her body so tired that she was beginning to get restless. Was it so much to ask to get a good night sleep? She and her friends were used to camping under no shelter at all in nothing but their sleeping bags, so why was one storm getting the best of her now?
Before she had realized it, her gaze had fallen on Zuko, his body curled in on himself in the dark. Spirits, he didn't even have a blanket. Was she truly so fixated on their differences and on the mission that she hadn't thought to offer him one of the blankets on the bed?
Before she could change her mind, she got to her feet and shuffled the short distance to him. He looked troubled, even in sleep, his brow furrowed gently and his fists clenched. She wanted to smooth the creases in his face, allow him to relax and drift into a peaceful sleep enough for both of them. Her stomach somersaulted as she pressed a timid hand on his hunched shoulder. He made her nervous in a whole new way now that he wasn't trying to kill her every time they crossed paths.
"Zu-" she started before he shot up. She jerked her hand away, startled.
"Katara? What is it, what happened?" He rubbed his eyes, head whipping left and right like he was looking for her. Despite herself, Katara let out a strangled laugh.
"No, everything is fine. I just wondered if you were cold, because I'm freezing."
The fire in Zuko's eyes was snuffed out and his shoulders relaxed, tired eyes finally finding hers in the dark.
"Didn't you used to live in the North Pole in an igloo town with snowmen?"
She smiled and shook her head, "its been too long since I've lived in that kind of environment, I've gotten used to warmer nights. Plus we were constantly bundled up at home, I don't have any of that kind of gear now." She left out the other reason for her fitful sleep.
Zuko swiped his palms on his thighs as he sat up, swinging his legs off the couch, "I never really get cold, thanks to my fire. But I could help you, if you'd like."
Too tired to even fully process what she was allowing, she nodded wordlessly and took his calloused hand to lead him to the twin bed. The warmth from his hand shot up her own arm, making her shiver. The rest of her body ached for that warmth, to sink into it… into him.
Zuko got into the bed and groaned softly, relief painted his face as he was finally able to stretch out his long legs. He burrowed into the mattress, appearing more vulnerable and… human than Katara had ever seen him. He remembered himself after a moment and opened up the blankets to her, eyes remaining fixed to the pillow awkwardly. Katara's heart pounded and she slid into the bed, her own awkwardness evapourating at how toasty Zuko had made the bed so quickly.
"Mmmm," the sound escaped her, she couldn't help it, and she sunk into what felt like an entirely different bed.
Zuko grinned proudly, reaching out to place a hand on her waist, the warmth of it making her sigh. His eyes, bright and amber, fixated on her.
"I'm so sorry, Katara. About your mother."
His words made her look up at him.
"This war has cost so many lives, broken so many families, and for what? So my father can rule a world of ash and fire?" His eyes darkened.
"My mother was the kindest and gentlest woman I knew, and she was taken from me to teach some sort of lesson, to snuff out any doubt about his world domination. Yours was taken from you when you were so young, and I… I can never make that up to you. But this, what we're doing, is the least I can do to help. So I just hope it's enough, for now."
Throughout his speech, Zuko had stretched on his back, hands behind his head, eyes nervously on the ceiling. At his last sentence, they slid back over to her and he was surprised to find tears pooling in her dark blue eyes.
"I'm sorry about your mom, too," she said, blinking away the sudden tears.
"She would have liked you," the corner of his mouth turned upward in a sad smile.
"I can't say the same for mine, unfortunately," Katara answered humorously. Zuko only shook his head in agreement, letting out a breath.
They were quiet for awhile as Katara basked in his radiating heat. She tried to push away the intruding thought she had of inching closer to him, not just to absorb his warmth but to connect with the frustrating, misunderstood prince who was at her complete mercy. Why did she want to embrace him? Why did she want even more than that? What would that make her, a traitor? He was part of the group now, so it's not like she'd be betraying her friends, her family. No, it would be a betrayal to herself, to the reality she has clung to her entire life. The fire nation and every extension of it was corrupt, everything they touched turned to ash.
But the boy before her, in this dark, dingey motel room, seemed like a mirror of herself. Another casualty of war, not a figurehead of the past century of fiery cruelty.
"Zuko…" she wanted to explain her thoughts to him, her conflict about him, but he interrupted, emotion welling up on his scarred face.
"I want to be worthy, someday," he said, voice cracking, "I want to be worthy of her approval, of yours. Thank you for giving me this chance."
Katara's arms were around him before she had even realized it. She nestled her ice cold nose into his warm neck and he hissed slightly before wrapping his arms around her back to hold her tightly.
"Katara, you're so cold," he whispered, his voice in her ear sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. His hand reached up to run through a strand of her dark hair spilling behind her. He did so almost reverently, as though he had been wanting to do that simple thing for years. She craned her neck to meet his eyes, stomach dropping at the longing she found there. Her toes curled and she found herself restraining every inch of her body from moving closer.
"I've dreamed of this for so long," he murmured, one hand still wrapped up in her hair and coming to rest at the back of her neck. Her eyes fluttered to her lips.
Traitor, traitor, traitor, she repeated to herself like a mantra to remind herself what he is, what she needed him to be for the world to still make sense. But tonight, her forehead grazing his and her gaze getting swallowed up by the beautiful amber fire of his eyes, she was beginning to feel like the traitor, herself.
He kissed her, and she let him, arms winding up around his neck and pulling him even closer. Her restraint was left abandoned. Maybe she had left it back at camp, or outside in the storm.
Seemingly in response, the thunder rumbled and cracked as the rain pelted the walls. Lightning and rain, fire and water, engaging in a destructive and harmonious dance. Katara parted her lips to allow Zuko's tongue to explore, and she thrust her leg between his. She could have sworn she felt him shaking as he gripped her body tighter. The dominant thought circulating her foggy mind was that she couldn't get close enough. She tugged at his tunic and he complied immediately, breaking the kiss to pull the fabric over his head.
"Ugh, I'm stuck," his muffled voice said frustratedly. Giggling, she helped him tug the collar over his head but it was no use, it must have been stuck on something.
"Lean back," he grumbled urgently, and she did so as he incinerated the fabric in his hands before discarding the ruined shirt on the floor. He reached for her as soon as he was free, cheeks flushed, and she felt something at the pit of her stomach expand as he kissed her again, fingers teasing the hem of her night shift.
"Do it," she rasped. Zuko complied with a growl, incinerating the shift to ash while leaving her unscathed, displaying remarkable control of his fire despite the increasingly animalistic look in his eyes that suggested he was very much out of control. She rolled them over so that she was straddling him and they sat up as one, deepening the kiss once more.
She wanted him, needed him, now. She whimpered, nails dragging over his shoulders as though she could open him up and slip under his skin, burn in the embers there. In turn, he grasped at her like she was the last source of water, of oxygen, in the world. She ground her hips down on his and he gasped. She found he was achingly hard beneath his cotton trousers and she rocked against that stiffness, eliciting a well-earned groan from him into her open mouth.
He pulled back abruptly, unsureness returning to his eyes.
"Katara, are you sure?" He peered up at her, eyes lidded and hands still resting on her hips. Her breath caught at his gentleness. She was still used to the Zuko that took what he wanted gladly, who persisted against all odds. The man in front of her was entirely different, almost shy. She still found it hard to reconcile these two versions in her head. Right now, she needed the ruthless and ambitious fire prince who would take her as though he had traveled across the world to do it.
She grabbed his length over top of the fabric of his pants and he choked on his breath, throat bobbing. She smirked as the restraint seeped from his expression. His eyes widened desperately as she slid off of his lap to slide his pants off. He kicked them away, saying her name again, though this time it sounded less timid and more like a warning.
"I won't be able to hold back," he croaked as she rose back up to meet his lips with hers once more. His curved member was dripping in anticipation, and the heat between her legs throbbed in response, ached to feel him inside.
"Good. Don't." She wrapped a hand around his girth, the size of it making her hand seem small. Zuko blinked, inhibitions evapourating as he grabbed the woman in front of him and tossed her onto the bed on her stomach. She giggled in delight, feeling delirious as countless emotions welled up inside of her. She was surprised she didn't feel more bashful wearing nothing but her underclothes in front of him, but it seemed they were well past that now.
He pressed his fingers against her opening and hummed in pleasure to find her tantalizingly wet and ready for him. He breathed in through his nose, like he still could barely believe this was real, and positioned himself at her entrance. She squirmed underneath his hands.
"Please," she said, her dominant teasing from before now replaced with pure longing. With that, she felt him push inside slowly. She gasped, fisting the sheets as she broke out into a sweat beneath his ever present body heat. He built up a rhythm, moaning her name, murmuring that he couldn't believe how good and tight she felt around him.
She buried her face into the pillow, not wanting the neighboring rooms to hear her heightening cries of pleasure. She arched her back, pushing her hips back against his and his grip on her tightened, sure to leave finger-sized welts on her golden brown skin. Zuko swore, speeding up.
"Keep that up and I'm not going to last much longer," he grumbled. She laughed breathlessly and felt him twitch inside her in response.
"Katara," he breathed like a prayer. He doubled over at the waist as if in worship, and she felt his chest press against her arching back as he bit and sucked on her shoulders. She let out an animalistic sound at the feeling, which encouraged him to thrust harder, faster.
"You're taking me so well… fuck, yes-" Zuko groaned into her ear. Katara's cries turned to sobs, overcome with ecstasy and the building surge in her abdomen, threatening to send her careening over the edge. She felt herself get impossibly tighter around his size and he shuddered behind her, thrusting in uncontrolled, short bouts as he unleashed himself inside. Katara closed her eyes and arched into him, accepting his release with nothing but unhindered joy making her arms and legs tingle. Zuko's fingers found her bundle of nerves, rubbing firmly and Katara buckled, every muscle tensing in this new layer of pleasure.
"Its your turn, finish for me," he whispered hoarsely, "can you do that?"
"Yes," she breathed, finding it all to easy to let the heat overwhelm her until she couldn't think, couldn't understand anything other than the fluttering of her insides as she succumbed to her building orgasm. She squeaked, tense against Zuko's chest. She called his name and he kissed the side of her throat gently, groaning with her as she rode the wave.
After, they collapsed in a sweaty, content heap on the tiny motel bed, coming down from the high together.
Zuko looked like his new, timid self again, looking hesitant as he fiddled with the top of the cotton blanket draped over them.
"I want to hold you," he said in a tone that made Katara's heart swell. He had utterly stripped himself bare in front of her, for her, in a way that seemed to terrify him. She touched his scarred eye and was hit with deja vu from the time in the crystal catacomb where she had done the very same thing. Before, she had done it to examine the damage in the hopes of healing him. Now, within these four walls amid the raging storm outside, she touched his face and truly saw his pain, choosing to accept him as he was.
"Come here," she said, and he complied, letting her fold him in her arms as he curled protectively around her.
Her fingers wound in his dark locks and she tugged affectionately. Zuko hummed happily.
"Are you warm enough now?" He asked, voice muffled in her hair. She grinned,
"Hmmm, not yet. You might just have to stay a bit longer."
The exiled fire prince and the water tribe girl drifted off into a sound sleep, resolved to face whatever came next as two halves of a whole, two elements as opposite and yet harmonious as the thunderstorm relentlessly painting the night sky.