The world was burning hot, the ceiling was spinning and all she could smell was smoke. All she could see was darkness, but she knew she was falling. Katara hit the ground and it sent agonizing shockwaves throughout her body. Not a moment later, Zuko's arms were wrapped around her and he was shaking her gingerly, trying to keep her conscious. He was calling her name, touching her face, a gentle sound of hysteria in his voice—as though he was panicked, but didn't want to alarm her by showing it.
Finally, the pain started to fade and her body was going numb. The heat left her slowly, replacing itself with an ice cold sensation. She strained to listen to Zuko's voice while he said her name over and over in his beautiful, raspy voice.
Her lips drew upwards into a small smile. If she was dying, this was how she wanted to die—listening to Zuko's voice.
The firebender rocked her gently. "Katara, Katara—Katara, open your eyes—" Zuko spoke softly, but quickly, "Look at me, Katara. Stay with me. Katara—please." He ran his thumb softly along her cheek. Her eyes were closed and her lips curved up in a small smile, but he could see the life draining out of her.
He leaned over to kiss her lips, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. "Katara—I'm here. I'm here," he whispered, lowering his face into her hair, "Don't leave me."
Her hair smelled smoky and burnt. He could feel the crispy ends of her hair against his skin. Zuko took a deep breath of her scent. She smelled nothing like she usually did. Katara didn't smell like burned hair and flesh, she smelled of water lilies and honeysuckle. Sometimes she simply smelled like clean water, the woods or grass—she always had a natural, sweet smell on her skin. His lips met hers. Her lips didn't taste like blood and smoke the last time he'd kissed her—they tasted like citrus and cinnamon.
His heart ached as reality hit him in full force—strong, beautiful, wonderful, brave Katara lay dying in his arms.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he gazed down at her. He should have taken Ozai out while she had control, like she asked him to.
He declined because it seemed so dishonorable, but his father never spared a thought for honor or integrity—why was the prince so concerned with it? Zuko heard the footsteps of the others as they entered the room. He held the Water-tribe girl close, feeling her shallow, labored breathing. Hot tears streamed down his scarred face. "Katara," he pleaded, "Stay with me, Katara. Please, I don't know what I'll do—"
Iroh was the only one to approach his nephew. He knelt beside him and placed an arm around Zuko, who only buried his face deeper in Katara's hair as he choked back a sob.
Aang stood frozen to the ground across the room. The airbender just watched as the girl he loved fell and stopped moving. He just watched as Zuko rushed to her side and held her close in what could be her final moments. Aang's gaze drifted from the waterbender to the Firelord. Zuko struck him down like it was nothing. Like it was instinct.
When Aang first saw what the Firelord had done to Katara, he fully intended to kill Ozai. But now that it's happened—the airbender felt strangely about all of it.
None of this felt good or triumphant. In fact, it felt like a loss more than anything.
His eyes made their way back to Zuko and Katara. His heart tore a little more. He hated that Zuko was holding her, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to approach the firebender or Katara. Instead, he just watched from a distance as the exiled prince kissed the girl he loved and begged her to stay with him.
Was it guilt that kept him bound to where he stood? Or was it anger, or jealousy, or heartbreak? The airbender couldn't ignore the glaring fact that Katara found the strength to use blood-bending, not to protect him when he needed it, but to protect Zuko.
On the other hand, when Firelord Ozai blasted the ball of fire at her, the Avatar didn't move to stop him. Zuko didn't hesitate to take his own father out in an attempt to stop it.
Guilt swelled up in him. Aang saw Katara slip when he called out to her. He saw the way she lost control of Ozai in that moment, but he didn't react like Zuko had.
Outside of the Avatar state, Aang couldn't bring himself to kill the Firelord.
Not even for Katara.
Just as she hadn't made the effort to protect him, the Avatar didn't make the attempt to protect her, either.
What did that mean? Did they not love each other? Did he not really love her? His eyes were full of tears and his heart ached as the waterbender lay there dying. Aang wished more than anything that it was himself in her place—no, he definitely loved her. Was it just that his ideals and moral beliefs were ultimately more important to him than she was...?
"Aang!" Toph yelled out, snapping the Avatar out of his thoughts. Aang's focus fell on Zuko, whose eyes were gazing at him, full of hope.
"I asked if you could use waterbending to heal her?" Uncle Iroh asked hurriedly.
"I-I—I'm not sure. I mean, she taught me how, but I've never treated this severe of wounds. Um," Aang stammered as he looked around the room hopelessly, "W-Water. I would need water."
Sokka wiped his tear-covered face with his good arm and removed Katara's water pouch from his belt. "I got this off one of the guards out front," he said.
Aang shook his head. "No, there's too many injuries. She would need to be submerged—"
Suddenly, a sinister chuckling traveled through the room. Zuko's eyes snapped back to the Firelord, his gaze lethal. They all tensed up, readying themselves for another fight.
The Fire-nation prince said nothing and gently lifted Katara in his arms before standing. He calmly crossed the room and placed the waterbender in Aang's arms. "Take Katara down to the turtleduck ponds in the garden. My uncle can show you the way," he said. His golden eyes bore into Aang's steel gray eyes. "Heal her," Zuko said, "Please."
Aang's grief-stricken gaze lingered on the Fire-nation prince and he nodded.
After the group cleared the room, Zuko's clenched his fists and slowly strode over to his father. Zuko loomed over the Firelord, his eyes full of pity.
"You.. have always.. been such a... weakling," Ozai said as he struggled to move. His breathing was haggard and the Firelord's usually powerful, pristine appearance was frayed and pathetic.
"You're wrong," the firebender said flatly, "You always have been." Zuko circled his father, keeping his eyes on him. "Only you have ever taught me that kindness and compassion is weakness. You convinced me that love and friendship is meaningless. You tricked me into believing honor is something that can be given to you and taken from you. You assured me that struggling was pathetic—but through others, I've learned that none of that is true."
"Kindness and compassion takes strength, love and friendships inspire courage and confidence. Honor is gained by choosing to do the right thing, and struggling is only ever pathetic if you give up," the raven-haired prince said. Zuko stopped, catching a glimpse of himself in the broken, mirrored tiles on the floor."...But the thing you were most wrong about, father, was me. I am strong. I am brave and honorable. I am worthy. And I have much to offer. You and our ancestors have spent the last 100 years tarnishing the Fire-nation with your arrogance, greed, and desire for power. But I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life repenting for all of those past decisions. And I plan to start by begging the other nations for forgiveness for all the wrong you have done to them," Zuko said.
The Fire-nation prince lowered his gaze, looking into the golden eyes that resembled his own and added, "But first, I'll grant the world the justice it deserves by getting rid of you."
Ozai grunted and shook violently as the lightning continued to course through his veins. When his shaking ceased, he grinned maliciously. "Well then, what's taking you so long? Kill me, son," he dared, "But, if you do, you'll be more like me than you may think. Or should I say, you'll be more like your mother?" Zuko's eyes narrowed on him. "...whether or not you care to admit it, you come from a long line of murderers," Ozai sneered. "She killed your grandfather, you know. Why do you think she was banished? She's lucky I didn't have her hanged or burned for what she did. I will always feel thankful for her impulses, though, as her treason gave me the opportunity to become Firelord."
Zuko lowered his eyes, thinking of his mother and whether she was alive or not somewhere. "...I knew. But she didn't do what she did so you could become Firelord. She did what she did to protect me. The only thing I understood as a child was, grandfather died, she was gone, and then you were Firelord," he said solemnly, "I hated myself for so long because you convinced me it was my fault that she left. But, now that I fully understand the love she felt and the sacrifice she made for me, not because of me—I'll gladly accept the fact that I'm like my mother. Because, like her, I'll be doing what is necessary to protect the people I love and the world we live in by ridding it of you."
"...Well, aren't you just my little self-righteous, treacherous son?" Ozai seethed. Zuko clenched his jaw as he glared down at the powerless, pathetic man he used to call his father.
"That's twice you've called me your son... All of a sudden I'm your son and you're my father," Zuko mused. He could see the pain the Firelord was trying so hard to hide. The Fire-nation prince wanted to draw it out, to make him suffer. As he thought of Katara, of his mother, of the Air-nomads and all of those who lost their lives because of this foolish war it was easy to convince himself that a slow, painful death was the fate the Firelord deserved.
Then Zuko thought of the light-hearted nights spent as a family on Ember Island, and the tiny handful of memories he had of watching fireworks with his father, or being carried on his shoulders—the two of them laughing together. Zuko's heart sank. He's known for many years that that man was gone. His father didn't exist anymore. His heart ached as he stared at the crazed Firelord.
"The only thing I have really learned from you," the prince hesitated, "...is that I am no longer your son—and you are no longer my father." Ozai glared up at the young firebender as bright blue sparks ignited on Zuko's fingertips. "And now, you are no longer the Firelord."
A bolt of lightning burst from Zuko's fingers and hit the Ozai directly in the chest—stopping his heart.
It was a late, bright orange afternoon as the sun slowly made its descent toward the horizon.
Music and conversation filled the courtyards within the Fire-nation palace walls. People had gathered from all over the world to witness and celebrate his coronation.
Zukko made his rounds, trying his best to make sure he spoke with everyone—but it was so crowded and he was exhausted, having been at it for hours. All of the faces, introductions, and conversations were starting to blur. It didn't help that it seemed everyone had the same questions for him.
"How are you going to bring peace between the nations?"
"What are your plans for the Fire-nation and how are you going to keep people safe from the rebels and radicals?"
"How will you convince the other nations to trust and make peace with the Fire-nation after so many people have lived through, fought in and died in this hundred year war?"
It was all so overwhelming. Suddenly, he was this important figure who was supposed to have all the answers, not just for his own nation, but for the whole world. His Uncle and the Avatar tried to prepare him for this over the past two weeks. As he approached another group, he gave his best smile and let them introduce themselves. He was only half listening as the men and his Uncle made small talk and debated about tea. He let out a small chuckle when they all started laughing.
Zuko knew this was an extremely important occasion. He should care deeply about how he was received. He should be focused on each person he meets and be present. And he tried to be, but his mind was far away, thinking about the waterbender.
And his mind would continue to be elsewhere until she woke up.
Zuko made sure to make eye contact with each of the men in the small group before him. After listening to them ask the same questions he'd heard all night, he repeated the same answer he'd given to a million others, "The Avatar and I are currently working on a solution to mend all the wrong that's been done. The Fire-nation is a broken nation, but it is not beyond repair. We will lend our strength to the other nations as they attempt to rebuild. It will take time and plenty of action on our end to regain the trust of others. We are ready to do what's needed to earn it back. We may not be able to change everyone's opinions of the Fire-nation, but overall the Avatar and I believe in the healing power of time and the goodness of humanity. We can only approach the problems we encounter like any other problem—one step at a time, one day at a time. As far as the Fire-nation being safe, there has been quite a few riots and protests lately, but we're hoping that will fade with time as people see the benefits of change. Meanwhile, the White Lotus has been and will continue to be a great help in keeping the Fire-nation a safe place. Peace between the nations is my ultimate goal and together with the Avatar, I believe it's possible."
So far, everyone has seemed pleased with this lengthy, practiced response—he's only had a couple of men who had a little too much fire-whiskey call him out on his vague reply. His Uncle, who's been his shadow all day, was very good at diffusing and redirecting the conversation.
The group of men bowed their heads in gratitude and thanked the Firelord for his time. Zuko lowered his head too. As the men walked away, the newly appointed Firelord glanced at his Uncle.
"So... how much longer do I have to do this?" Zuko asked quietly. Uncle Iroh simply smiled.
"Well, Firelord Zuko, if you need a break, you can of course excuse yourself. But I do hope you won't disappear for the rest of the night. After all, this is a celebration for you, and there are still many people you haven't met or spoken with," Iroh said.
Zuko resisted an irritated sigh and snide remark. Instead, the Firelord bowed his head graciously to his Uncle. "Then I'll return shortly," he said.
Unfortunately, it wasn't as simple as just leaving the crowded area—he was stopped multiple times by people who seemed to have an endless amount of questions and advice to offer him. After many polite thank yous, bows, and reciting his very practiced monologue again and again, he finally made his way inside the palace.
The corridors were quiet in comparison to the courtyards.
The firebender let out an agitated groan once he closed the doors behind him. He wasn't used to this amount of attention and pressure. And suddenly, in the calmness of the hallway, he could feel his exhaustion. His scalp hurt from having his hair pulled up tightly into the topknot adorned by his Firelord crown. His boots felt like they were too small and the layers of robes he wore had grown increasingly heavy and warm. Zuko nodded to the two White Lotus guards stationed outside of Katara's room. He stopped at the massive door, listening to his heart pound with anticipation.
The Firebender recalled the first time he visited the waterbender in her room back at the Western-Air Temple.
He remembered how nervous he was that morning. He didn't have any idea of what to say—he just knew that he wanted to fix things between them. He wanted her to look at him the way she had at Ba Sing Se. He wanted to show her that she could believe in his goodness again.
The firebender remembered his shaky knock and how he entered the room when she didn't answer—the way he froze in the doorway when he caught sight of her. The soft morning light fell upon her face, her bare shoulder poked out of the top of the blankets, her hair undone and splayed across her pillow—he was captivated. Zuko recalled how he considered leaving, but decided to sit in the center of the room, watching her sleep instead.
It was as though he'd discovered this whole other side to Katara, and he wanted to take it all in. She just looked so peaceful. Her features were unlike any she ever showed to him. They were soft and warm, like all she was capable of was love.
Then she woke up.
A smile spread across his face as her startled expression flashed in his mind and he remembered the way it quickly twisted up in to anger. He could hear the faint sound of her furious words in his head. "Why am I ANGRY with you?! You're really sitting in my room right now, asking me that?!"
He had to admit, they handled everything pretty poorly back then. They yelled and argued, made demands and hurled insults, only stopping when the frustrated firebender kissed her.
Zuko grinned as he reflected on the impulsive, awkward first kiss. It wasn't like he made a habit out of randomly kissing people when he was frustrated—the desire to kiss Katara was instilled deeply in him by then, starting from the first time he saw her.
From there, every interaction between the two of them only added fuel to the fire, so to speak.
The seemingly impulsive decision to kiss the angry waterbender that morning was just the culmination of all the hidden, pent up feelings he developed for Katara. And as liberating as it was to finally kiss her—even briefly—Zuko forced himself away from her. Embarrassed and extremely vulnerable, the firebender attempted to shove the feelings he had back down to where they once were. Then he noticed the redness creeping into Katara's face and the pleasantly surprised look on her face.
The moment seemed like so long ago sometimes, and then, in some ways—he felt like he'd just stumbled out of her door, still reeling from the unexpected kiss and Katara's response to it.
The Firelord raised his fist and knocked on the door.
There was no answer, as usual, and he let himself in. The smell of lillies and sweet-smelling incense wafted throughout the room as he made his way to her bedside. The window was open, allowing a warm breeze to swirl its way through the delicate curtains and let the last bit of sunlight in. The warm glow fell upon her face and he smiled—she was so beautiful.
"Katara," Zuko said as he sat on the edge of the bed, "I'm here." He put her hand in his, happy to feel the warmth beneath her skin. Thanks to the Avatar's efforts, she was alive and growing stronger every day. Her skin regained its rich, beautiful caramel color and she was breathing much easier. Her smaller wounds were mostly healed—just the deep tissue burns on her arms and neck remained—but Aang worked on healing those every day and soon, those would be healed, too.
Why hadn't she woken up yet?
The firebender sighed as he gazed at the sleeping waterbender. No matter how many times people told him she would be okay, Zuko wouldn't fully believe it until she opened her eyes.
His scalp throbbed and he could feel the start of a headache coming on. Reaching up, he yanked the golden pin from his Firelord crown and shook his hair out. His shaggy black hair fell across his forehead and neck, instantly relieving his discomfort. He set the crown on the bedside table and pulled the bulky boots off. After shedding the outermost layers of his coronation robes, he laid down beside Katara. He listened to her breathing as he stared up at the sheer, red and gold embroidered fabric that covered the canopy bed she slept in.
"I wish I could just stay here the rest of the night," Zuko said with a chuckle as he turned to look at her sleeping face, "I've only been Firelord for a couple hours and I'm already exhausted. It's a good thing Aang and my Uncle helped prepare me for all the questions I got or I would have sounded like a complete idiot." The firebender reached over and brushed her hair out of her face. The waterbender looked so peaceful, there were no signs of the wounds inflicted on her by his father. "...I owe Aang everything," Zuko said, thinking again of how close he came to losing the Water-tribe girl.
Aang loved Katara. Katara knew. Zuko knew. Everyone knew. But that didn't stop Zuko from falling in love with her.
And luckily, it didn't stop Katara from falling for him.
It took a couple days for things to calm down after announcing the death of Firelord Ozai, and during that time, Zuko met with Aang to talk about Katara—he wanted to take accountability and explain everything he could.
However, as soon as the Firebender brought up Katara, the Avatar just smiled a sad smile and said Zuko didn't need to explain. Aang admitted he saw something between them awhile ago, but ignored it. He mentioned being upset that Zuko denied how he felt when directly asked, but couldn't blame him, either. Nevertheless, the fight against Ozai confirmed his suspicions—and while the lies and the rejection hurt, he couldn't really be angry at either of them. Their conversation ended with Aang claiming he wanted them to be happy, and ensured Zuko that he would come sweep Katara off her feet if the firebender didn't continue to treat her well.
But at the end of the day, they were okay—they were still friends.
Aang managed to be extremely mature and understanding about the situation, even though he was heartbroken.
Zuko closed his eyes. He was grateful, unsure of whether or not he'd be able to have behaved that way himself if the tables were turned. Sokka and Hakoda seemed relatively supportive as they tried to wrap their heads around Katara being with Zuko instead of Aang. It was obvious that they did not understand at all, which didn't really bother the firebender too much. He knew they would come around eventually, and didn't really expect anyone to understand, especially not at first.
Everyone envisioned her with Aang, the Avatar, afterall—so anyone else would seem less suitable for her. And Zuko did feel less suitable for her sometimes, especially with how gracious and mature the Airbender was about everything.
Toph and his Uncle were both the most supportive, as expected.
Zuko lay there beside her, feeling the light of the sun leave his face as it fully set behind the horizon. Even though he knew the Waterbender loved him, and that he loved her—he wasn't sure exactly what that meant for them. They didn't have to sneak around anymore—they could finally be together whenever and however they wanted, but would she still want that when she woke up? Would she be happy to be in the Fire-nation? As the newly appointed Firelord, Zuko didn't have much in the way of options. He wouldn't be able to leave the Fire-nation, especially not for any length of time.
If she wanted to stay in the Fire-nation with him, did that mean they'd have to be married? Not that he didn't want to marry her, but he didn't want her to feel forced to marry him because he was Firelord and had to uphold a certain image. What if she didn't want to get married, ever? What if she did, but wanted to live in the Southern Water-tribe?
As anxiety over the future caused his chest to tighten, Zuko focused his efforts on breathing and rational thinking. She might want to stay here in the Fire-nation with him. If not—if she wanted to return to the Southern or Northern Water-tribe—they would make it work. They could write letters, he could visit by ship as frequently as he could and she could fly over to him on Appa...
Zuko's heart wrenched. No, that wouldn't be good enough, the distance would be devastating. His gaze fell on Katara's face once again—specifically on her soft pink lips. His breath caught in his throat and he propped himself up on his elbow as that familiar desire of kissing her fought its way to the surface. He hesitated before leaning over and gingerly touching his lips to hers.
He immediately felt her lips twitch in response, and his golden eyes snapped open as he leaned back in disbelief. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. As those blue eyes focused on him, a weak smile pulled up the corners of Katara's mouth.
"...don't you know..." she drew in a breath as she gazed up at him affectionately, "..you can't just kiss someone because they're asleep?" Zuko stared at her for a moment, speechless. Finally, he let out a short laugh as pure happiness eclipsed all of his other emotions. His lips briefly met hers again out of sheer relief and joy.
"Katara," he said in an exhaled breath, "I've missed you so much." She lifted one of her arms and ran her fingers through his messy hair, bringing her hand down to touch his scarred cheek.
"I missed you too," Katara said. Her eyes grew misty as she gazed up at him, "...I could hear you calling my name."
Before his eyes misted over, he pressed his lips firmly against hers, feeling Katara smile before she returned the kiss. Suddenly things were clearer than they ever have been—the happiness, relief, and love Zuko felt in this moment told him everything he needed to know. Katara wrapped her arms around him as he kissed her, profoundly overjoyed she was awake.
All of the questions about what was going to happen, where they would live, how they planned to proceed, it didn't matter—they would figure it all out together. Foolish or not, he decided what mattered most, what would always matter most, was the two of them living and loving one another in the present. He broke their kiss, trying to catch his breath and avoid overwhelming Katara—but the waterbender grabbed Zuko by the opulent Firelord robes he wore and pulled him back into a deep kiss.
The Water-tribe girl wrapped her legs around the firebender's waist as her lips moved passionately over his. A soft moan released itself from their throat simultaneously and the collective sound ramped them both up. Hands grasped and tugged at the clothing they wore, heat building as Zuko pressed Katara into the mattress using the weight of his body. After another pleasurable sigh escaped the waterbender's lips, the Firelord knew he wouldn't be returning to the boring, crowded party outside.
This was where he wanted to be and this was where he would stay.
[[the end]]