Disclaimer: I do not own any part of ATLA in any way, shape, or form. I own NOTHING!
Chapter 18:
KATARA
Zuko re-immerses himself back into the tribe with ease. He has barely forgotten any of what we taught him. Just like the last time he came here with me, the village remains indifferent enough that he fits right in - well, at least as much as a firebender and son of the Phoenix King can.
As expected, Pakku and Iroh have some history as fellow White Lotus members, so it doesn't take Pakku long to warm up to Zuko. Gran Gran, of course, remembers Zuko from before and has a soft spot for him now because of how he's helped us. But I wasn't ready for how well he and Dad hit it off. Sokka, Dad, and Zuko are practically inseparable. They hunt together, fish together, go to council meetings together, and they even tinker with inventions together.
I join them sometimes, but other times, all the male bonding is too much for me, so I usually just leave them to it.
The longer Zuko is here, the more obvious it becomes that things are still off between us. Once the joy and inertia of our reunion wore off, our old issues began to resurface.
We are amicable. We don't fight or bicker. We aren't even avoiding each other, but I still feel it, that edge, that friction. It hums beneath our skin. It breathes between every interaction and sleeps in the space separating each word we utter. It all feels so unresolved, unfinished - at least to me.
Zuko's indifference hurts me the most. His neutrality - whether feigned or authentic - is something I have never received from him before. At least when we were at the Beifong's, I could still see the hurt in his evasion of me, but this? This suggests that he is completely detached from me and any of the feelings he had for me, that I no longer matter.
I'm not sure what I was expecting. For things to go back to the way they were before? For us to be friends? Neither of those is feasible. I don't have the right to them or even deserve them. I know that but it doesn't keep my heart from selfishly crying out for more, for foolishly wishing that everything would magically right itself simply because he is back.
To add insult to injury, the dragon hates me. Granted, it doesn't really like anyone other than Zuko, but Druk seems to hold a special contempt for me.
"Try to pet him, Katara," Sokka snickers as he opens the cage and Druk comes flying out.
When Sokka invited me to his igloo to eat with him and Zuko, I agreed, hoping it would give Zuko and me a chance to talk - really talk, or at the very least a chance to spend time with each other. If I knew I'd be bullied by my brother, I never would have come.
I roll my eyes and put a dumpling into my mouth. "He is just going to growl or bite me."
"I know!" Sokka is downright giddy. He rarely gets the opportunity to be a bystander in these kinds of situations. Usually, Sokka is on the receiving end of misfortune and animal contempt, and I am the one who gets to laugh.
"Try feeding him," Zuko suggests as Druk perches himself on his shoulder. He is still pretty small; bigger than a sparrowkeet but smaller than Momo.
I fish out a piece of Arctic hen and place it on the ground next to me. The movement catches his attention, his beady red and yellow eyes shifty.
"C'mon," I coo and to my shock, Druk slithers down Zuko's arm toward me.
"Here it comes!" Sokka looks just like he did when we went to Earth Rumble Six.
"Shut up, Sokka," I hiss under my breath.
Druk snatches the meat, growls at me, then crawls back to Zuko. Sokka deflates, visibly disappointed.
Zuko shrugs. "Could've been worse. He didn't bite you this time."
Druk continually proves to be a lot like his master. I'm learning that neither of them wants me to get too close to them.
Korri is still genuinely fond of Zuko. She has no memory of our time with him, but you would never know that by the way she acts with him. It is as if they've never spent a day apart. She is always excited to see him and always asks him to play with her.
Zuko humors her just like he humors me. He talks to her. He lets her manhandle him. He lets her tug him into her snow forts. Zuko keeps her at arm's length, though, just like he did when he first met her. He doesn't want to get attached again, and I see him using a similar tactic with me.
When Korri once again stopped him outside her igloo and demanded he stop and play with us, I could tell he didn't want to. He likely had business elsewhere, but apparently, he still has trouble telling her no.
So Zuko spends the afternoon with Yanna, Korri, and me in the snow outside Yanna's igloo. He tells Korri the story of how he found Druk (or how Druk found him) again because it never gets old to her. He melts the snowballs she throws at him, which fascinates her and results in her demanding to see more firebending. He even lets her show him her favorite toys.
It's endearing how easy their relationship is. I never would have thought Zuko would be good with children, but he has continually proven me wrong - at least with Korri.
"Do it again!" Korri squeals with delight, clapping her hands.
Arms resting lazily across his raised knees, Zuko breathes out a small stream of fire into the air. From his shoulder, Druk mimics him and breathes a tiny puff of fire back.
Korri laughs so hard that she falls onto her backside and rolls around in the snow.
"She is probably the only person on this planet who thinks Zuko is funny," I muse as I help Korri up, but I am smiling too.
"I can be funny," Zuko retorts as he chews on a piece of jerky.
"You're usually only funny when you aren't trying to be," I tease.
Zuko shrugs. "It still counts."
A peaceful, contented silence falls over us then. Leaning back on his hands, Zuko closes his eyes and holds his head back to absorb the afternoon sun.
It has been a good day, easy and effortless. I could almost forget that Zuko is here on White Lotus business, that his time here is about checking in with the Southern Water Tribe and offering to help us with any moves we are planning against the Phoenix King. As I watch him now with his eyes closed and his chest moving with long, steady breaths, it is like he came here with no other purpose than to rest.
Those first few days after he got here, he looked so tired. He struggled with the climate here before. The cold and the lack of sunshine used to zap a lot of his energy, especially at first. But the weariness he wore this time was different. It ran deeper.
The years of running from place to place, searching for allies, scrapping up any support he could find, and recklessly causing trouble for his father have apparently caught up with him.
I want to ask him about the time we were apart. He has offered only scraps since he's been here. He acts as though there isn't much to tell, and maybe there isn't. Maybe it isn't even really about knowing but more so about the fact that I feel he has shut me out of a room I once had full access to.
Then, as if a switch has flipped, Zuko gets up and leaves. Korri tries to waddle after him, but Yanna stops her.
"No, Korri," Yanna chides gently. "Stay here with us."
Korri pouts but does as she's told. She flops back into the snow and crawls back into her snow fort. I might be pouting too.
The days seem to slip through my fingers. Maybe it is because I am trying so desperately to hold onto them, to the time that I have with Zuko. He seems to be in no hurry to leave, but I can't shake the feeling he won't be here long, that I am running out of time.
I've tried so many times to have a heart-to-heart with him, to apologize, to tell him the truth, to finally put all my cards on the table. The universe seems set against that happening, though. The timing has never felt right and even when it has, my nerves have gotten the better of me.
Maybe it is all one-sided. Maybe I am delusional. Maybe I am the only one who feels like we have unfinished business. Maybe the way we left things was enough for him. Maybe that last kiss was all the closure he needed. It certainly seems that way.
To keep my mind distracted, I try to focus on repairing one of my fishing nets, but the next thing I know, Zuko is walking up to me as if my thoughts have summoned him.
He has his kill from the morning hunt in one hand and a spear in the other. The latter he stabs into the snow before he joins me.
I try not to stare but the Water Tribe attire is frustratingly flattering on him. The blue brings out the gold of his eyes, the flawless alabaster of his skin, and the intense black of his hair, which he still has pulled back in a loose partial topknot. The layers make him broader and somehow even make his jaw stronger.
Hauling off his gloves, he spreads out a mat next to me and begins skinning one of his mink snakes.
We make small talk for a while. I ask about the hunt. He asks me about Korri. We ramble about the weather and disagree on how cold it is. After that, I decide to make yet another attempt at fixing us.
"Do you remember how we used to go into the tundra together at the end of the day and find a place to watch the sunset?" I put down the net and look over at him.
Zuko's eyes briefly flicker up to mine before he returns to his skinning, wiping at his brow with the back of his forearm. "Yeah."
"We should do that again," I propose, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.
There is the briefest of pauses before he answers. A blink. If I didn't know him so well, I doubt I would have caught it.
He stops and meets my gaze again. "Yeah. Sure."
That night we resumed our evening excursions together. However, they aren't what they used to be. The tension between us follows us out into the tundra. Zuko and I no longer know how to interact with one another when we are alone. Our interactions are forced and unnatural. Gone are our easy movements, the effortless silence.
Some of these evenings together are better than others, but I can still never seem to get out what I want to say to him. How can I tell him that I was too young, stupid, and naive to realize I was in love with him? How do I tell him that I let my prejudice and preconceived notions get in the way of us and what I actually felt? How do I say that I have missed him so much that I have physically ached?
"We should probably head back," Zuko says as he gets back to his feet.
The last of the sunset's orange has left the sky. Tinges of purple and pink surround our side of the cliffside now, signaling that it is indeed time for us to leave our little ledge and go back.
Reluctantly, I stand to follow him, and I do for a moment, silently berating myself with each step for letting yet another sunset pass without being honest with him. Then, all at once, it is too much. I can't stand it. We have wasted so much time. I have wasted so much time, time I will never get back, and I refuse to waste another second.
Rushing up to him, I grab his arm and gently tug him back.
His eyes are wide as he looks down at me. His lips part as if to speak but no words come, just the visible puffs of his warm breath in the cold.
"Did you think about me at all while you were gone?" I ask softly, holding our eye contact despite how it hurts.
Zuko blinks. "Of course, I did."
My breath catches in my throat, but I feel so relieved. I had been so afraid that he'd just tossed his feelings for me away, that they were simply a phase or a thing of the past.
"…I missed you, Zuko." I take hold of his hand. "I missed you so much…"
Zuko frowns. "Katara…"
"I know it won't change anything. I'm not expecting it to. I just want you to know that—"
"Don't," he insists and that's when I see it. Pain. He is in pain. "I understand. You don't have to say anything. There's no point rehashing the past."
The past…
I crumble a bit. He has every intention of leaving us in the past, and I don't know if that's because he wants us there or because he thinks that's what I want. The pain in his face suggests that there are at least some feelings for me left, but I don't know what those are. It could be nothing more than regret.
"What if there is?" I challenge. "I still have things I want to say, and it seems like you do too…"
Zuko is still and quiet. His eyes are low, focused on the ground between us.
"Please," I whisper. "I don't want things to be strained between us anymore."
Nodding, he turns and heads back down the cliffside. Understanding that this is his way of saying he doesn't want to have this conversation here now that it is getting darker and significantly colder, I follow.
When we reach camp, I lead us to my igloo, and just as I understood his silent instruction on the bluff, he understands mine now. He obediently follows me inside.
The silence stretches on until I take off my overcoat and sit down on my furs. Knees pulled to my chest, I motion for Zuko to get comfortable, but he doesn't. He lingers near the door, rigid and tense.
"You're still hurt," I say. "I hurt you."
Zuko folds his arms over his chest."It doesn't matter."
"You always do that. You always say these things don't matter, but they do, Zuko."
His jaw sets, but he stays quiet. He is holding himself back, I realize.
"I'm sorry," I say at last. "I was stupid, immature, and selfish. I'm sorry I wouldn't let you love me…"
Zuko's eyes - which are a stunning yellow in my igloo's dim lighting - widen as they find mine.
"When you left, I tried to convince myself that what we had wasn't real," I continue, my nerves forcing me to prattle on because I am terrified of his rejection. "I told myself that I only felt what I felt because I was so vulnerable and wounded. I thought that time would help those feelings dissolve. I thought they would fade." I take a breath. "But I was wrong."
He closes his eyes, his features almost contorting into a grimace. "Why are you telling me this?"
I pull myself into a tighter ball as I try to figure out how to answer him. I'm honestly not sure. All I know is that I love him, and I feel like he deserves the truth, the truth I denied him when I was too young and stubborn to grasp it, but the words lodge in me.
"I thought you regretted everything. I thought you wanted to forget it ever happened, to move on."
"I thought so too…" I admit.
"But?" he probes, a hint of anger in his voice. He is frustrated with me, and he has every right to be.
"I was wrong," I say again, my eyes searching his.
Zuko becomes completely unreadable then. Blank. The next move is mine, and I can feel the significance of it before I even crawl to my feet and approach him.
I get as close to him as I can without touching him. His eyes move. He watches me intently, but he remains painfully inscrutable, which almost makes me waver. Almost.
I bring a hand to his neck, drawing him closer. Then I press my lips to his, slowly, tentatively. I am so timid it is barely a kiss at all. It is more of a test than an actual kiss because I honestly don't know what he'll do. My heart cramps as the fear of rejection slithers up from my gut and coils around it.
Zuko doesn't move. He doesn't move away, but I can feel the chorded muscles in his neck stiffen.
My eyes flutter open and connect with his in silent question, our lips still barely touching. His eyes are heavy-lidded, his silence somehow an answer.
I take a hesitant step forward. My other hand joins its twin at his neck. I tilt my head and kiss him again. My movements are more sure this time, more forceful as I slot our lips together.
Some of the rigidity leaves Zuko's neck, and I feel his hands go to my waist. My relief comes in the form of my body pressing itself completely against his.
I had forgotten just how good this felt. With him.
I've kissed other men since him, mostly tribesmen from the North Pole. I did it partly because I was bored and partly because I was hurt. It was a pitiful attempt to erase the memory of Zuko, another of my childish acts of defiance to prove he didn't mean that much to me and that anyone could make me feel the way he did.
But they can't.
Zuko pulls away, sucking in a slow breath as our mouths part. He licks his lips and swallows hard. "I should go."
"Don't. Stay." I tug at his hand and ease him back towards the furs.
Cemented by fresh resolve, I wiggle out of my tunic and let it fall below my navel.
Zuko looks at my skin, painfully unfazed even though his eyes linger and burn with the desire I became very familiar with while we traveled together.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice low and rougher than normal.
I laugh nervously, trying to sound confident and sure. "What does it look like?"
"No. Really." His eyes flash to mine. "What are you doing?"
I can't keep myself from losing all composure. Hurt rushes across my face because I am hurt.
"I want you. Is that so strange?"
"Yes. It is."
I frown, but I scramble up some newfound courage and loosen my bindings, letting them uncoil from around me. They fall clumsily, revealing me in erratic patterns like a patchwork quilt as I sit back on my haunches.
I am impressed with how confident I am even though this is the first time I've ever exposed myself to someone like this. I am chewing on the inside of my cheek like crazy, though. I'll draw blood soon.
Again, his eyes go to my body but everything else about him is indifferent. "You really want this?"
I nod.
"Don't you - I don't know - want this on your wedding night? With your husband and a bunch of candles and flower petals everywhere? With someone you love?"
Yes, I wanted that once but that was what I saw when I contemplated a future with Aang. Aang is gone, though, and this is Zuko. There will be no wedding night or flower petals with Zuko.
"I love you." It is said before I know what's happening, my heart leaping out of my throat before I have the chance to swallow it back down.
He scoffs as he kneels and leans forward, placing his hands on the furs on each side of my hips.
Spirits… He's gotten bigger…
"You love me?" he muses with obvious disbelief. There is something impish in his tone.
I nod. I don't hesitate.
He scoffs again, places a hand on my sternum, and shoves me onto my back. I blink once, and he is on top of me.
"You're a magnificent liar, Katara," he hums, his voice husky and thick. I shiver at the mere sound of it as his lips brush mine.
Of course, he doesn't believe me. Why would he? I told him I didn't love him. I told him I couldn't love him. I told myself that until even I believed it. I set myself up for this and I deserve it for how I acted, but I'm determined to show him that it's true.
I fumble with his fur jacket and the blue tunic underneath until I finally manage to get his chest bare. We laugh at the effort it takes to find him underneath all the layers, and he says something snarky about Water Tribe fashion.
My hands instinctively rake up the thick trunk of his torso and over the scar that explodes from the middle of his chest. My fingertips linger there, marveling at it and what it represents.
He backs away, and I frown. I can tell he is thinking about leaving again despite my insistence, but he keeps going. He snatches the hem of my pants and shimmies them down to my legs.
For a while, he simply stares down at me and runs his hot hands over every single inch of me, his fingers searching out every strip of flesh I have. He marvels at me as if he has never seen another human before, and I heat underneath the intensity of it, squirming with every searing path his hands take. It is all so meticulous and grueling that it edges on torture, like being boiled alive, the temperature gradually rising higher, higher, and higher.
I realize he is testing me. He is trying to get me (or maybe himself?) to back out because he still doesn't think I'm serious about this.
To prove him wrong, I smile and glide my hands up the length of his arms. I pull him closer and I shudder as the heat of him settles on top of me. His chest comes into contact with mine, the simple skin-on-skin contact is so magnificent I sigh.
His mouth goes to my neck. His tongue teases the pulse points sleeping there before he works his way down me. He nips at my skin until he is nipping between my legs. He nuzzles them apart, pressing and licking at all the right places, shooting off sparks behind my eyes.
My hips buck. My hands get lost in all that long, dark hair, tugging lightly and making him groan against me. I absorb the guttural sound like a shockwave.
By the time he slips his fingers inside me, I am mewling and squirming so much that I no longer feel like I am in control of myself. Just when I don't think I can handle it anymore, he stops and gives me a second to unwind.
"Please, Zuko," I whisper as he crawls back up me.
I feel downright drunk. I am dizzy with lust and high on longing. I want him so bad I can no longer see straight. Everything is fuzzy around the edges.
Zuko gives one more cynical look, one more hard once over as if he is trying to see into the very core of me before he surrenders. He leans back, and throws off his pants, kicking them to the floor and leaving nothing between us but air. If I weren't so lust-drunk, I'd find the irony in that.
"Don't come crying to me if you wake up one day and regret this." His hand disappears between us. I feel him lining up with me. His forehead presses against mine, our hair mingling together.
"I won't."
Then he kisses me, really kisses me. Slow, arduous, and earnest. Like he means it.
Like he loves me.
Zuko forces his way into me and everything inside me ignites and subsequently explodes. We both gasp as if we are getting our first gulps of air after almost drowning.
My arms wrap around his shoulders so tightly that it has to be uncomfortable for him, my nails digging deep into his skin like grappling hooks, but I have to tether myself to something.
His head lowers. He grunts. I adjust and slowly return to my body. Once I do, he moves. It is uncomfortable and burns a little but not unpleasant like most women from up north say. More than anything, I feel shocked at how close I can be to someone and how vast and overwhelming that is.
Zuko moves confidently as though he has been inside me countless times before, but he is attentive and tender. He stops now and then to swipe stray strands of hair from my forehead and caress my face before returning his attention to my neck, hips, and chest.
Something about the steady rhythm of us reminds me of waterbending. The push and pull. He crashes over me again and again. Somewhere along the way, I lose myself, lifting my hips and hooking my legs around him.
He loses himself then. His movements become quicker and jerkier. I can't fight my grimace, but I can't fight the delightfully anguished moans that come out of me either. Zuko rumbles in response, panting as he paws at my waist, my hips, and finally the back of my thighs. His hands are scorching at this point, likely leaving red streaks along my skin, but I don't care. It feels good. I have felt so cold for so long that the heat is absolute bliss.
I pull his face from my neck to look at him because I suddenly need to see him. His jaw is tight as I hold it in my hands. His brow is wrinkled, but his eyes are so soft and affectionate as they bore into mine.
Our foreheads touch. Our breath mixes through our parted mouths. I want to kiss him but the intensity of the moment is too much. All I can do is whimper against his lips and swallow his hearty grunts in return.
Zuko's face screws into a tight, almost anguished expression just as he reaches down between us and forces me over the edge. My back arches and I vibrate as if he filled me full of lightning.
He pulls out and then I know it's over. I shatter inside at that realization, knowing I'll be forced to return to reality soon.
I tug him back to me instantly, wanting more of the contentment I had when he was inside me. I don't want to feel any of that emptiness anymore. I don't want the cold.
"I've got you," he hums against me as if he heard my panicked thoughts. "I've got you."
Zuko kisses me again before he lowers his head and rests his ear right over my heart. He covers me like a blanket, and even though my head is buzzing with all kinds of thoughts and questions, I don't say a word. My hands simply go into his hair, the silky texture of it falling through my fingers again and again until I lull us both to sleep.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
