"Tara!"
Katara spun around at the nickname, only her family had permission to call her that, that is, with one very special exception.
"Kiyi!" she swept up Zuko's little sister and hefted the girl up onto her hip, the youngest member of the royal family gave her a warm hug. Some say ten is too old to be picked up, but Katara didn't care. Kiyi was growing up so quickly it was like a blur, this might have been her last chance. Her bending was advancing rapidly, much like Azula's. The time they had playing and reading in the last month would be spent training and sparing by the next time she visited.
"How are you, sweetheart? Are you having fun?"
Kiyi nodded enthusiastically, "There's a lot of new people here, and Uncle Iroh got lots of new stuff from the other nations for everyone to try."
"I saw, what did you like?"
"Uncle Iroh made a special milk tea," Kiyi pondered a bit, "I think he called it b-boba tea?"
Katara made a face, Iroh had come up with the concoction a few years ago. It was a hit or miss with most, apparently, the young girl liked it.
"Is your dad here?" Katara asked.
Kiyi shook her head, "He's home for another play."
Ikem had done his best to take to palace life but his heart was still rooted in the theater. Even with numerous successful productions here in Capitol City, he would often travel back to Hira'a to keep the theater there going as well. He felt that plays were an art that should be accessible regardless of wealth and refused to abandon Hira'a in favor of the city's gilded stages.
"Which one?" Katara continued to inquire.
"Mom's favorite!" Kiyi beamed.
"Love Amongst Dragons?"
Kiyi nodded, "Zu zu says we're going to see it next month."
Katara smiled and wondered, would Kiyi ever find out that once upon a time, her big brother ran around the streets of Ba Sing Se in a Blue Spirit mask of his own.
Kiyi looked around, "Where's Uncle Hakoda?"
"He's home with Gran-Gran. I'm filling in for him."
"Is Sokka here?"
"Yep, he's around here somewhere." Katara scanned the crowd but couldn't find her brother at first glance, she looked to Kiyi, "Do you want to help me look for him."
"Sure!"
Sokka had a way with kids, his antics quickly made him one of Kiyi's favorite people. So it confused Katara when, after a few moments, Kiyi shook her head and began to wriggle in her arms.
"Wait!" the girl's small exclamation made Katara stop in her tracks as Kiyi looked around before looking back at her, "Tara? Do you like my dress?"
"Hmm," Katara made a mock look of contemplation, "let me see."
Katara let Kiyi down and she promptly did a twirl to show off her flowered red hanfu. The hezi kun had a long, pleated, cream skirt and a deep crimson bodice embroidered with a flourish of blue kissed white orchids, over it, she wore a daxiu of red chiffon embroidered with more orchids.
"It's beautiful!" Katara gushed.
Kiyi smiled and another thought passed over her face, "Have you seen my mom?"
Katara shook her head, "I haven't gotten to greet her yet." she admitted.
"Then let's go see her." Kiyi grabbed Katara's hand - her tiny one managing to wrap around only three of Katara's fingers - and tugged her across the ballroom.
Kiyi didn't seem to notice the looks that tracked them through the crowd. Many of the attendees who had stretched their necks to see her an hour ago were now thankfully enjoying the music, flowing drink, and various delicacies offered by each of the four nations. But not all, there were still looks, some amused at the young princess leading the ambassador, others hoping to glean some whisper of what had happened and others simply remained hostile - those glares were most often clad in orange and yellow. Katara shrugged them off instead focusing on finding the mother who so often supplied the advice she could no longer ask her own mother for.
"Mom! Look who I found!", Kiyi tugged on the hem of a crowned woman conversing with a group of ballgoers.
"Ambassador Katara, how good to see you, you look lovely."
Ursa draped in royal robes, tore away from the group of dignitaries and enveloped Katara in a warm hug.
"Thank Agni, I was looking for a way out of that." she whispered in her ear.
Katara smiled and bowed, "Happy to be of service Fire Lady Ursa."
"Oh my dear, you don't need to do all of that, you're basically family," noticing a few perked ears Ursa continued on a little louder, "I take it my guests are treating you well?"
All around them, the curious looks dropped like flies, it felt like weights falling from her shoulders.
"I haven't had much of a chance to make conversation." Katara said honestly.
Her friends had been quite effective in keeping the attendees at a distance. Ty and Sokka quickly swept them up in conversation and drew them away, while Toph and Mai were their usual prickly, unapproachable selves.
"Lucky you." Ursa winked, "Sometimes it's better that way, there's only so much small talk and niceties one can muster in a night."
Ursa took a cursory look around the room before turning her attention back to Katara, "Why don't we get a drink, I could do with a glass of moon-peach mead and," she turned and brushed a stray hair from her daughter's cheek, "Kiyi, Uncle said he was able to get you some sparkling rock-pear juice."
"Really? Let's go!" Kiyi's eyes lit up, the same warm gold as her half-brother.
The small firebender tugged at her mother's wrist, Ursa smiling, wound her elbow with Katara's, and let the young girl lead them back across the floor.
"I take it my son has been treating you well too?" Ursa asked.
Katara nodded, "He's been busy … and stressed, but he and Suki have been looking out for me."
"No issues with the harem?"
Katara shook her head, biting back a laugh. While she had no reason to question Aang's faithfulness in their time together, Ursa's nickname for the acolytes was a bit too fitting. They followed Aang like a shadow, hanging on to his every word. In the beginning, she hadn't minded the attention they showered him with, it made him happy, and he only ever had eyes for her, his forever girl. But as the distance between them grew, the orange and yellow throng drew closer to him, putting up wall after wall until she could no longer reach him.
The thought must have shown on her face because Ursa stopped her with a look of concern.
"I'm so sorry Katara, I've made you remember something dispiriting."
Katara's eyebrows raised, "Oh no," she gestured to the crowd, "It's hard not to when they're here."
"I hope they won't be on your mind the whole night." Ursa gave a gentle tug on her elbow, signaling her to continue toward the bar, "Iroh and I worked on this celebration for weeks. It's a little selfish, but I'd be a bit sad if the harem ruined it for you. You've worked so hard yourself these last few weeks you deserve to be happy and to have some much needed fun."
They approached the bar, and Ursa was immediately attended to, being Fire Lady interim had its perks. Within a few minutes Kiyi bounded off with a glass of bubbling pale green juice, and she and Ursa were left sipping on some cocktail that tasted of moon peaches, honey, and ginger.
Katara contemplated her drink and the woman in her company before plucking up the courage to ask what was on her mind, "Ursa?'
"Hmmm?" the older woman hummed.
"When you came back to the Fire Nation, how did you deal with your relationship with Ozai."
Ursa gave a sad sigh before wrapping an arm around Katara's shoulders, "You know, I've been waiting for you to ask me that."
The surprise on Katara's face made Ursa smile softly, "There aren't a lot of women in our predicament dear. Coupled once upon a time to the most powerful man in the world?"
Katara nodded.
"Well, you could do what I did, venture deep into the woods and give up not only your face but all memories of your life.," Ursa sipped from her glass, "From experience, I can tell you it doesn't fix much, just delays the inevitable."
"Inevitable?"
Ursa nodded, setting down her drink, "Eventually, you have to face it. Face the fact that people who have no idea what you went through will have ill opinions of you. That you will be a villain in someone's story, and there's nothing you can do about it other than to move on. Their minds will never change. So why withhold your own happiness for people you will never be able to please?"
"Is it really that easy?"
"No." Ursa shook her head, "Not at all."
"Oh." Katara couldn't help the slump in her shoulders.
Ursa brushed a thumb along Katara's cheek, making her look back up.
"It's natural to want people to think good of you, to like you." a thought crossed Ursa's face, and she shook her head, breaking into a proud smile, "Then again, the way you played hardball in those summit meetings, I don't think you care that much about who likes you."
Katara snorted into her drink, her father was going to receive several strongly worded letters in the coming weeks. It was worth it, she had negotiated new trade agreements and capital to establish a new navy - something they were denied so long ago. She even secured funding for a joint rescue corps. The corp would quickly dispatch teams of fire, earth, and water benders to emergencies and disasters and even had plans to add the air nation to assist with transport when they grew.
When Aang has airbenders with someone else
The errant thought cut but not nearly as deep as she expected. In the last few months, as she reclaimed more and more of herself, that sharp pain had become more like a memory of a dull ache. Without being overcolored by Aang, her wants had changed, they had become, clearer.
Did she want a family?
Yes.
Did she want to be responsible for repopulating an entire nation?
No, not really.
Looking at Ursa's expression, Katara realized her thoughts may as well be written on her face.
"I don't mind if people don't like me, but," she looked around the room, sneers and disapproving looks still peppered the crowd, "some of them seem like they hate me."
"Aang is a loved figure, and as far as anyone knows, you broke that sweet boy's heart."
"But that's not what happened!"
"And I never wanted to marry Ozai, I never agreed with his and his forefather's war either."
"But when you came back, people still hated you. They had no idea you were a prisoner that-" Katara paused as it dawned on her, "I can't change it, can I?"
Ursa gave a very un-Fire Lady-like shrug, "You can try. I did, and some listened, but even after all these years of hearing the truth over and over again, there are still some who simply do not care. They chose to believe what they did, and there's nothing that will change their minds. "
"What do you do about it?"
"Nothing."
"How can I sit by and do nothing." Katara's jaw clenched in frustration.
"You don't.".
"That makes no sense!"
"But it does," Ursa smiled.
Katara paused, taking a breath of patience, she was beginning to understand how Zuko and Toph felt talking to Uncle.
"I don't understand." she said, as calmly as she could manage.
Ursa took Katara's hands in hers, they were warm, almost like her son's when he radiated warmth.
"My dear, it doesn't matter what you do, people will have something to say. So you might as well do what is good for you, do what makes you happy."
"Is that why you stayed when people called for you to be banished again?"
Ursa nodded, "I had lost so much time with my children, my family, Ozai had taken so much from me already. I wasn't going to let him or anyone else take any more. I did what was going to make me happy, I stayed and got to know my family again. I helped my son rebuild our nation, and while we have a long road ahead of us, I am helping my daughter heal." she squeezed Katara's hands, "You should do the same, do not defer your happiness for those who know nothing of your journey."
Katara nodded her understanding. Ursa's mention of Azula prompted her to ask something, "Dad said you might be heading back with us?"
"Master Pakku said Azula was making progress and thought it would be a good time to see her."
"Do you think she's still mad at you?"
"I would be surprised if she wasn't. I have a lot to atone for."
"But it's been years."
"And even if it takes a hundred more, I will stand by her until I can redeem myself to her."
"Because you want her forgiveness?"
"Because I am her mother." Ursa said somewhere between wistful, and hopeful before cracking a half-smile, "Come, this is supposed to be a celebration, not a mourning. We can talk about all this later, but right now you should enjoy yourself. Let me get us another drink."
Ursa pointed to a bottle of deep brown liquid and flashed two fingers at the server behind the counter. A few moments later, he presented her with two small glasses, more shots. Ursa took one for herself and handed the other to an unsuspecting Katara.
Ursa lifted her glass in a toast, "Here's to a more pleasurable night."
Katara grinned and clinked her glass against Ursa's before tipping it back. The spiced liquor coated her tongue with the slight sweetness of vanilla before streaming down her throat in a thick, burning line that made her sputter.
Katara gasped, slamming her glass on the bar and coughing, "What was that?!"
"Spiced rum," Ursa smiled, a twinkle of mischief in her eye, "plays aren't the only thing Hira'a is famous for."
She could feel the liquid settling warm in her belly "Of everything to drink, this!?" Katara asked bewildered, "Why?"
"For courage, my little turtleduck, because my time with you has come to an end and it appears you have an invitation."
Confused she looked around until Ursa, with a tilt of her head, indicated something behind her.
Katara spun around, it was not something, but someone. She was met with amber eyes, long ebony hair, and a perfect face of warm ivory marked by the angry red of an old scar.
Zuko gave a quick bow to Ursa, "Thanks mom."
"Of course, my other turtleduck."
He gave her a scowl, despite the blush creeping up his cheeks. Even the Lord of the Fire Nation couldn't escape being embarrassed by his mother.
He extended a hand to Katara, "May I have this dance?"
Zuko had requested a dance, and it felt like all eyes in the room were on her. It would be rude to refuse the Fire Lord at his own ball, but dancing with a man right after her break up - with the Avatar of all people - had been 'announced' might be worse.
She glanced back at Ursa and the Fire Lady raised her glass nodding reassuringly.
People will have something to say. So you might as well do what is going to be good for you, do what makes you happy.
Katara let the fire burning in her belly stoke her courage, she turned back to Zuko and took his hand, letting him lead her to the dancefloor.
"You set me up." she accused him quietly.
"I tried to find you, but you kept slipping away, so I got you to come to me." he told her sheepishly.
"Was Kiyi in on it too?" she questioned.
Zuko winced, "She might have been?"
"That's low, especially for you, Mr. Honorable."
He chuckled in response.
By the time they had joined the other dancers in the center of the floor, the first few notes of a Ba Sing Se waltz erupted from the small orchestra.
Zuko bowed formally and offered his hand before quietly asking, "Do you remember?"
Katara raised a brow, accepting it, "It wasn't that long ago."
"Four years is a long time." Zuko glanced down to where her mother's necklace sat in the hollow of her throat.
Katara's fingertips brushed along the smooth stone. The night of her and Aang's engagement celebration, the same night she had given Zuko the necklace, he had taught her and Aang some of the Fire Nation's dances, and both men teamed up to teach her the Ba Sing Se waltz. The Earth Kingdom dance had, had a revival after some students secretly learned it in a cave, it managed to remain popular after all these years.
"I'm a good study, just ask Pakku." she retorted, a sly smile spreading along her lips.
Zuko smirked, lacing one of her hands with his and settling the other on the curve of her waist. Katara placed her free hand on his chest, and he quietly committed the feeling to memory. Letting the sound of the instruments lead them, the pair quickly fell in step with the lilting of the music.
Left foot forward, right foot forward and to the right, bring left to meet right.
Now reverse.
Right foot back, left foot back and to the left, bring right to meet left.
Iroh explained that the waltz step was a pair of triangles that were interlocked, just like he and his partner were.
Just like he and Katara were.
Normally, he would have to try to not look at his feet as he worked through the steps, but tonight he had no trouble as his eyes were firmly set on her. Her brown waves had been swept up in a braided top knot - a nod to both their cultures, her lips were painted a deep red and a soft flush had been blurred on her cheeks. Kohl lined her eyes and smudged artfully along her lids giving her a rare sultry look that set a strange flutter in his stomach.
"Everything ok?" Katara asked, a thread of concern in her words.
Zuko caught himself, he had stared too long.
"Uh, yea. Just diplomatic stuff, the posturing gets a little tiring after a while."
"Really? I thought it was your favorite part?" she teased softly.
Zuko would have teased back, but the note she sent to his chambers a few hours ago made him cut right to the point, "Katara, you sent a request for an audience to my room, but you've been avoiding me all night. Why?"
Katara missed a step, and only Zuko's hold kept her from stumbling, he strengthened his lead quickly bringing her back on rhythm.
"So you were avoiding me."
Katara's eyes conveniently found something interesting to look at behind him. Lying was never her strong suit, it always showed on her face, no matter how much she tried.
"Why did you request a private audience tonight?" he pressed.
Katara bit her lip, remaining silent.
"You have it, I made sure we wouldn't be disturbed but," Zuko looked at her, concerned, "what would you need to tell me that you couldn't say now? What would make you avoid me all night?"
His worry was not something she intended, she wanted to explain, but Mai - their resident expert on court etiquette - had advised against it, at least until they were in private. According to the noblewoman, neither Zuko nor Katara were adept enough at reigning in their emotions - as much as she loathed to admit it, about this, Mai was not wrong- and to discuss something so delicate in front of an audience of hundreds of government officials, various royalty and the Avatar himself, would have been less than ideal.
Thinking about what to do, Katara continued to chew her lip - much to Zuko's agony. After a moment and a few more dance steps, she decided to take a cue from Toph and her penchant for rule-bending, because while Mai had warned them not to talk about it, she never mentioned anything about showing him.
Silently she begged a spark of boldness from Yue and reached for the hand he rested on her waist.
Zuko didn't have much time to react. Honestly, he didn't think much of it when Katara grasped his hand and slid it down her side. He figured she was simply tired of dancing with him, after all, he had pressed a question she obviously did not want to acknowledge, and he would have to wait until she was ready to give him an answer, that is, if she wanted to give him one at all.
At least that's what he thought, right up until he felt his fingertips brush along the coolness of her bare skin. The water-like slip of silk caressed down the back of his knuckles as Katara brought his hand higher and higher up her dress. His palm skimmed up her thigh until it came to rest on her hip, her very, very bare hip. The long cloth strips of her ever-present sarashi were gone leaving nothing between her skin and his. Of its own volition, the pad of his thumb traced along the groove when her hip met thigh, eliciting from her a silent shudder.
Katara watched nervously as Zuko's face flitted through emotions, a pale cold confusion, a slight flush of embarrassment, and finally, the warmer heat of desire. Beneath the layers of embroidered azure silk, his hand clenched until his fingertips dug into the soft flesh of her ass. Katara let out a soft gasp that made her fist the red fabric of his robes. Gritting his teeth, Zuko let his hand slip back down her thigh and discretely out of her dress. He spun her so her back pressed against his chest so tightly she could feel the heat radiating from his skin through the layers of his robes. He drew her arms out to either side as the strum of the instruments kicked back up with a different song, something lighter, faster, and, deeper. She quickly recognized it.
Katara turned her head toward him ignoring the brush of his lips along her temple, "What are you doing?"
"What I've wanted to do for the last nine months," he replied in a rasp, that trickled down her spine.
Before her, a few faces had caught notice, they stared perplexed, and an hour ago they would have given her pause.
What would they think? What would they say?
Now, she mentally shrugged.
Screw it.
She nodded, facing front, and Zuko immediately relaxed behind her. Although she had made the first move, he had worried she would be angry and walk away. He may have been in the lead but he still deferred to her.
"Do you remember?" he whispered.
"I'm a good study, remember?" she could feel him smirk against her temple in response.
The last of the instruments layered on their notes until they built and blended into a structured sound that could flow. She could hear the quiet sound of Zuko counting to himself, "five, six, seven, eight," before she felt the slight cant of his hips where he leaned into the first step, taking her with him. He led her, she pushed back and they quickly found their rhythm. Around them, quiet murmurs sprouted from their fellow dancers.
The Double Phoenix Step they were performing was a Fire Nation dance reserved for couples. She knew this because Zuko had taught it to her and Aang the night of their engagement. The deliberate and metered steps had felt like an exaggerated walk where both dancers remained joined from the hips to chest, moving in sync the entire time. Back then, Katara had found it incredibly intimate and she hoped it would help her and Aang reconnect on a deeper level, to help them find the closeness work, and travel had robbed them of over the last few months.
Ursa happy to give lessons had described it to them as a negotiation between a noblewoman and a renegade. The renegade led the dance dictating how the pair moved, being the lead required both the structure and dominance to move their partner across the floor, but the Phoenix Step was a bit different from most. The so-called 'passive' side was a noblewoman, and she was anything but passive. The noblewoman was compelling, equally commanding as the lead, and able to push the renegade back.
She and Aang had tried, but assertiveness was never a strong suit of his, he quickly lost interest, and like the wind, swiftly changed direction, finding Ty Lee's intoxicated class on handstands much more interesting. Katara, on the other hand, wanted to keep learning, she figured, like waterbending, she could always teach him later.
So with some encouragement from Ursa and Iroh, Zuko filled. When Zuko slipped into Aang's place carefully wrapping his arm around her waist and shyly fitting his hip to hers, it struck her, just for a moment, how well they fit together. She quickly pushed the errant thought away instead focusing intently on the steps and postures, committing each to memory. It took them some time, but she and Zuko had managed to perfect it all while laughing at the crushed toes and awkwardness between friends.
In the ballroom, Zuko brought them to a halt, fracturing the memory and bringing her back to their present. The murmurs of the ballroom had become whispers that laid like a quiet hum beneath the music. Ignoring them, Zuko stepped back, the absence of his warmth sent a cool shiver down her spine. With his right hand, he lifted their twined fingers above her head, while his left traced burning trails down her beaded bodice until they landed firmly on her hip.
Katara felt Zuko give gentle pressure on her wrist that pressed away from him while dragging his hand along her hip, letting friction pull her toward him. The opposing forces spiraled her into a dizzying turn, and for a moment the warmth of his calloused hands disappeared. It was her favorite part, the spin always felt like a free fall for the short seconds it took Zuko to catch her and snap them into place.
She tried more than once to chase that lost part of their relationship but Aang never did learn the steps and for the longest time it felt like a waste on her part or worse a failure. But here under the ballroom lamps surrounded by the music, the world narrowed down to just her and Zuko. Enraptured eyes of molten gold filled her vision, she could fell his chest heave and his heart race along the line where their bodies met, they fit together perfectly, just like they had that night years ago. Katara was not the one who failed, it was Aang who failed to recognize the fire that lived in her or maybe he did and simply was afraid, but seeing herself, her true self, reflected in Zuko's eyes she realized, it had been entirely Aang's loss.
The posture was wrong, they had missed a beat, three in fact, and he couldn't seem to give a damn, wishing instead to lose himself in the blue eyes looking up at him for as long as it took the eternal flames of Agni to die out. But the dancers, like the world around them, continued to move, narrowly missing them which each step. If they stayed frozen any longer, he risked them becoming even more of a spectacle. Zuko straightened his back and put iron into his frame, not because he needed to lead, but because his Katara carried the force of an ocean in her hands.
Fixing their positions, he cradled Katara in the crook of his arm, his fingertips slipping over the small windows of mocha skin exposed by lacing of her corset. She took his corrections elegantly, leaning into the arm at her back and tilting her head back to expose the curve of her jaw. Katara fell into the posture easily, wearing it comfortably like it was one of her bending stances. He had to admit, she really was a good study. Within moments they were dancing again moving through the strong, staccato steps that took them across the floor.
Zuko's eyes had been all for her until a prickling on his neck made him pick his head up and peer into the crowd. The bright orange and warm yellow emerged from the reds and greens that dominated the night's eveningwear. The brilliant blue tattoos along his warm beige skin stood out against the crow and Aang's grey eyes stared back at him with hurt and disappointment painted over his face.
His expression sent a streak of guilt through Zuko's chest, he was hurting his friend. Aang may have been stupid, his actions straining all of their friendships, but the airbender was still his friend and once upon a time one of his closest. Had things changed so much?
Was he being selfish?
Opportunistic?
He chanced a glance down at the woman in his arms and Katara smiled up at him with laughter in her eyes, he hadn't seen her light up like this in years. She turned her head so the carved stone of her mother's necklace flashed in the warm light and with it memories of her last visit overtook him.
The blue wax seal stood out among the mountain of scrolls on his desk, the letters he received from her had become fewer and fewer over the years, one coming under the seal of the Southern Water Tribes instead of the Air Nation was even more rare. He had snatched the rolled parchment from the pile reading it to himself once and then again and again. It told of her intention to retrieve the borrowed heirloom he tied to his wrist four years ago. Reluctantly, he unwound the satin from his wrist and placed the only piece he had of her into a wooden box. It was a bittersweet thing, he would see her for the first time in a long time and return something very dear to her but it felt like he had torn off a piece of his soul and packed beneath the mahogany lid.
Days later she was at his door, the gleaming citrine absent from her neck and her inner fire reduced to choking embers, something was very, very wrong. In his chambers, Katara, through tears, explained what happened, that she had broken their engagement, that she had held on for as long as she could, neither realizing how she was eroding bit by bit until she no longer recognized herself, until there was almost nothing left of her. She came to him afraid, afraid that she wouldn't find all the pieces of herself ever again.
That night, after consuming enough fire whiskey to put his generals to shame, Katara cried herself to sleep in his arms. He had yearned for her presence, but not like this. Staring up at the silk canopy he knew he couldn't mend her broken parts, that would have to be up to her, but, he could at least help her find some of the pieces she was looking for.
He rose before dawn, reluctantly slipping from the bed they shared, and cleared his schedule much to his council's chagrin but the chance that it would be worth their while kept their surliness at bay. Zuko was working on forms when she found him in the training grounds ready for their spar, and it was just as thrilling as he remembered. With every unbridled attack she flung at him, her eyes burned brighter as if Agni's flame itself had been lit in her irises. Her penchant for sparring took a backseat to Air Nation ways for so long, he had almost forgotten how it felt to fully let loose with her.
When both were fully spent, they cleaned up and headed to Uncle's. The time he arranged for her to spend with his family was more for comfort and small words of advice, to finally see, read, and eat something not drenched in Air Nomad culture, and give small reminders of the travels that shaped them all. The abundant affection, terrible jokes, and raucous laughter between them, along with an abundance of tea, brought back a long-lost warmth to her.
But it wasn't until that night, when he handed her black robes, a veil and crimson paint, did the wonder and determination return to her eyes, these things he had grown up seeing in her, admiring in fact.
How had he not noticed when they dimmed, nearly disappearing?
Under the azure mask, he scooped her up on his back and they traversed the rooftops of the city, intervening in the lawlessness that comes under the cover of night while stopping to heal the injured and sick. From under the Painted Lady's veil, illuminated by the moonlight, he finally found flickers of his old friend staring back at him.
They returned to the palace just as the blacks of the night sky were ceding to the purples of first sunlight. Both fell into bed, falling asleep before their heads touched the pillows, and in too few hours, they were woken by his staff.
It was time to go.
Before he knew it, he was watching her drift off in the distance. He swore he could feel his heart crack as she disappeared into the horizon, but he had found her, somewhere in there was the Katara he knew. The one she feared was lost had, for a handful of fleeting moments, stared back at more than once that day.
One look at her face and Zuko's guilt drowned.
Katara took the lead and thoughts of Aang fell away, he yielded to the force of the woman in front of him, she pressed him back and he surrendered to the demands of her hips. Aang was in the midst of learning a painful lesson: sometimes you truly do not know the value of what you have until it is no longer yours. How he had failed to comprehend the immensity of the love she had for him Zuko didn't know but wasn't until he watched Katara look at someone else, the way she once looked at him, had he started to realize his loss
Zuko caught Katara in another spin before dipping her back into a deep arch, on the sidelines he could see how Aang's hurt cut him deeper, the nomad was fracturing at the edges and Zuko looked on without remorse. He and his acolytes had dimmed Katara's light until it nearly went out, and he wasn't sure he could ever forgive him for it.
But Aang, did not get long to look mournfully on at his friend, and his ex-fiance, because Hei-Won had emerged from the crowd. Pausing next to her revered leader she watched the dancefloor intently and only once she and Aang were in full view of Katara did Hei-Won make her move, dragging the lanky airbender to the edge of the dancefloor and cajoling him into a halfhearted Ember Quickstep.
Checking on Katara, Zuko's annoyance died before it even got a chance to flare she still wore that smile with a slight wrinkle in her brow, that one she had when she was concentrating on something. Had she noticed the pair at all? If she did, she didn't seem to care, her eyes were all for him, and in that deep blue was a heat that laid just below the surface. It made him swallow hard and wish they were already in his chambers.
For the first time in a while, she was allowing herself to have fun, to be daring, to be with someone else.
To be with him.
He'd be a fool to ruin it all, over someone who had been content to lose the precious pieces of her, to lose her to some stunted naïve fantasy of a forever girl.
Too soon the song ended, Zuko still held her where they met hip to chest, and she was reluctant to let go, but the crowd around them began to thin as the music paused to rearrange for the next set.
She couldn't stay. She shouldn't stay.
Every word she wanted to say bubbled up in her chest and threatened to tumble out in front of the murmuring crowd, so Katara let him go. Taking a step back, she fought back against another chill as it raced across her skin, a silent protest at the loss of his warmth, but she had to let go and give them the space they needed to let things cool. In front of her, she placed the top of her fist under the heel of her palm and gave a respectful Fire Nation bow. Straightening she found Zuko's eyes still locked on her, lost in the small distance between them. A cleared throat from the crowd broke the moment and his royal upbringing quickly took over with him stiffly returned the gesture.
Borrowing a bit of daring from the dressmaker, Katara ignored the eyes on them and reached out to pulled him into a hug.
Zuko folded her into his embrace, happy for a reason to have her back in his arms. Her breath danced softly across his cheek and her red painted lips brushed along the shell of his ear, "I'll see you tonight," she promised.
The whispered words sent sparks down his spine and made him grit his teeth against the less than appropriate images dancing in his head. The memory of the softness of her ass still lingered on his fingertips when she pulled back with a smile so innocent only a felon could wear it.
Karata left him on the dancefloor, their little game of 'chase the fire ferret' had kept Zuko from fully appreciating the beauty of her gown. As she walked away, his eyes lingered on her, form covered in deep blue silk that shone with golden threads, the stormy trail of pearl seeded organza that flowed behind her, and the corset back laced with beaded ties that exposed an elegant line of her mocha skin that ran from the nape of her neck to small of her back. It was in his admiration that Zuko had a realization that made something low in belly pull taught.
Katara wore absolutely nothing under that dress.
