AN: Whew. Doozy of a... however long it's been since I updated. Anyway, here's the long-in-coming next chapter! I hope you like it! I can't bring myself to proof-read it again, so let me know if there are any errors and I'll fix 'em.

Also, thanks for reviewing and talking to me on tumblr, people. You really keep me goin'. :)


When Katara and Sokka emerged from their room, they found Zuko already seated at the low table, stiff and formal. His eyes shot immediately to Katara for a hard second, then snapped to Yotsu, who bowed and leaned out the door to signal someone in the hall.

Katara took a seat on a cushion much closer to Sokka than Zuko, putting her almost directly across the table from him. Their eyes met and held. Zuko frowned back at her steadily, with almost the same stern look he'd worn when he was naked.

Katara banished the thought, but it kept creeping back. The muscled ridges of his shoulders, the shallow valley of his spine - but mostly his eyes, like some cornered animal's. The way he looked at her now, though, was different. Like a promise of retribution soon to come.

A flurry of servants entered the room bearing several dishes and bowls of rice. As they set the table and retreated to places around the perimeter of the room, Katara and Zuko's eye contact held, stretched out.

Katara would be polite, fine, but she wasn't going to be the one to look away. She wasn't afraid of him.

"So," Sokka said at length, plucking food from the dishes on the table and collecting it in a teetery heap on top of the rice in his bowl. "Prince Zuko. Now that we've settled our dispute, maybe you'd, ah, regale me and my royal sister with stories of, um…"

He elbowed Katara and she narrowed her eyes and picked up her chopsticks. Then, after a sharp little breath, she forced a sugary smile onto her face. "Why don't you tell us about the Fire Nation? We'd love to hear all about our new home."

Zuko watched her even more stonily than before. "What do you want to know?"

Katara stabbed her chopsticks down to squeeze the juice out of a mushroom, smiling harder still. "Oh, I'm sure you can think of something great to tell us about your country, since it's so great."

"I hear there are some pretty nice beaches!" Sokka put in between mouthfuls.

Zuko finally picked up his own chopsticks and began warily selecting bits of food for his bowl as he spoke. "Sure. There are beaches."

"How nice for you," Katara said as she mashed that same mushroom deep into her rice. "Looking forward to spending time on those nice Fire Nation beaches, Prince Zuko?"

He paused with a bite halfway to his mouth. "I haven't really thought about it. I doubt I'll have time for that kind of petty diversion, though."

Katara held her smile but couldn't help her eyes from narrowing.

"Yeah," Sokka said. "I'll bet you've got five years' worth of prince stuff to catch up on, huh? I remember this one time I got behind on lessons back home and Gran-gran-"

Katara stopped listening to this story, which she knew because she'd been there to witness Sokka's month of procrastinating, and focused instead on the new light of worry in Zuko's eyes. He ate quietly as Sokka talked, frowning into his bowl. Without his challenging gaze to meet, Katara glanced past him at the blank-faced servants, then down at the food before her. She finally ate that mushroom and, finding it only mildly spicy and savory enough to make her mouth water, picked a few other things from the same dish.

"But you probably won't have to worry about that," Sokka was saying, rubbing the back of his neck. "I doubt your teachers have the kind of disciplinary authority that Gran-gran has."

"No," Zuko said, not looking up, "but I still wouldn't want to be underprepared. It's not like learning sums, Sokka. If I'm mediating some dispute and I don't know enough about the law to rule fairly-" He looked up abruptly, at Sokka, then Katara, then beyond them. "It won't be an issue. I often studied with Uncle during our voyage."

Katara could hear the lie in his tone and she opened her mouth to make a caustic remark, but Sokka elbowed her again. She drew a breath and picked up another bite of vegetable. "Iroh's a wise man," she said instead. "He probably taught you a lot."

Zuko shot her an irritated look that swiftly faded when he saw she wasn't being sarcastic. "Yes," he said quietly as he picked at his food. "He did."

The meal went on peacefully enough and, after Sokka polished off his second bowl of rice, the servants cleared away the dishes and replaced them with squat tea cups. One man went around the table with a teapot, filling each cup with something hot and fragrant. Katara peered into her cup with no small amount of suspicion, then eyed Zuko.

He had already taken his cup in hand and was apparently breathing the steam. The look on his face was more troubled than angry - but still angry. Always angry. And he wasn't drinking.

Katara folded her hands in her lap and waited.

"What kind of tea is this?" Sokka asked, sniffing his own cup.

"Green tea with ginger root, probably," Zuko said. He finally noticed Katara watching him and his frown grew more pronounced. "What?"

"Mm!" Sokka said, jerking as if he'd burned himself. "It's good, Katara! …hot."

Katara just went on glaring at Zuko. "I don't want any tea."

"So don't drink it."

"I won't."

"Fine." Zuko rolled his eyes away from her like she was acting crazy and sipped his own tea.

Katara worked her jaw to the side and hoped he scalded himself. Then she turned to Sokka. "I'm done."

"Oh…" Sokka shrugged. "I guess you should… ask to be excused? That's what polite people do, isn't it?"

Katara fixed him with her most withering look, then stole a glance at Zuko. He was watching them over his cup with a furrow in his brow. "I don't want to ask," she whispered back. "You ask."

"Katara, I want to stay and finish my tea. Green tea with ginger is supposed to be a great digestive aid. That fish was spicy!"

"Maybe if you ate one piece instead of four, you wouldn't have this problem," Katara hissed.

"If you want to go," Zuko said in a calm voice that wasn't at all like him, "just go."

"What I want," Katara snapped, planting her hands on the table as if that would brace her against the gust of this fury, "is to see Toph and Aang."

Near the door, the last two servants stiffened. Beside her, Sokka pressed a hand over his eyes. Zuko stared back at her, his yellow eyes burning. Slowly, he lowered his cup to the table before him.

.


.

There it was. Finally. Zuko had been sitting here for the past hour waiting for Katara to drop that unnerving facade and now, at her biting words, he nearly smiled. Much as he wanted to keep what remained of his dignity, he found he liked it better when Katara was open with her hostility. Her honesty was strangely comforting.

It also made the vague plan presently forming in his mind seem so much more satisfying.

"The Avatar is off-limits," Zuko said. "But I might consider letting you visit with Toph, provided you do something for me first."

Katara watched him narrowly for just a second too long. "And what's that?"

Zuko dismissed the servants with a gesture, then went back to gazing evenly at Katara. She glared back at him, all temper and suspicion. Good. If she was suspicious, she was nervous, and she should be nervous. She'd broken an unspoken truce between them when she entered his room. She'd be a fool if she didn't expect repercussions.

Beside her, her brother sat tense and very still, no longer bothering to feign interest in his tea. "Alright," Sokka said the second the door closed. "Getting creepy."

Zuko shot him a sour look but didn't dignify that with a response. He spoke only to Katara. "I'll let you see Toph if you heal me."

Katara's eyes flashed with some feeling Zuko was sure he must be misinterpreting. She didn't really just scan the breadth of his shoulders through his tunic. No, she was nervous and resentful. She swallowed and dipped her chin lower, watching him still.

"Why don't you just make Loska do it?" Sokka demanded. "She's actually trained to heal people and, also, you know, she's your slave."

"She is not my slave," Zuko bit out.

"Well, she's scared enough of you to pretty much do whatever you say anyway so-"

Zuko swiped a hand through the air as if to bat away the very notion. He knew the healer was afraid of him. He'd noticed it every time he entered the infirmary, and it made him feel sick and strange. Furious and yet pleased. But Sokka and Katara didn't need to know that.

"Look - Loska, the surgeon, the servants, the guards - everyone on this ship will report to Azula about anything I do. I don't want it getting back to her that I needed treatment after fighting you. She already-" Zuko huffed out a sigh and shook his head, then fixed his stare on Katara. "Will you do this or not?"

Katara fiddled with her manacle and frowned at him. "I want to see Toph every day, not just once."

Zuko tensed and drew breath to argue, but then sat back from the table instead and let the air out, calm and steady. It didn't matter, anyway. Toph was blind and powerless on a ship at sea. It was Katara that required careful handling. Better to give her what she wanted when he could. "Fine. You'll see her for half an hour every day. And you'll never speak about my request. Understood?"

Katara hesitated only a second before nodding. "Okay. Agreed."

"Good." Zuko climbed to his feet, trying not to favor his sore leg, but perhaps not trying hard enough now that the servants were out. Katara watched him closely. He held his head high. "Let's go," he said.

"Right now?"

"What do you mean 'go'?" Sokka demanded. "Why would you need to go anywhere that isn't right here, where I can oversee this little transaction?"

"A servant will come in soon to take the cups away." Zuko's eyes settled on Katara. "So it's my room or yours."

"Yours," Katara said at once. "I'd prefer that you stay out of mine."

Zuko narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, I like my privacy, too."

Katara glared back at him, but her cheeks stained a rosy pink. It was hard not to notice how pretty she was when she was angry and embarrassed like this, when he'd finally gotten her where he wanted her. Well, nearly where he wanted her.

Sokka's voice shocked him like a pail of cold water in the face. "Hey! It's my room, too, you know," he said, glaring between them. "And in case you were wondering, I don't like either of those options."

"Nobody asked you," Zuko said.

Katara shot him an annoyed look, then turned it on her brother and climbed to her feet. "Just drink your tea, idea guy."

Sokka caught her hand before she could move away, and peered searchingly up at her. He spoke quietly, completely serious. "Are you sure, Katara?"

She huffed, but didn't pull away. "I know what I'm doing, Sokka."

"Alright, just…" Sokka let go of her hand and sighed. "Never mind what I said about being polite. If you want me to come with you, just say so."

It came as no surprise that Sokka was behind Katara's sudden effort toward civility, but Zuko didn't spare a thought for that. Azula's warning about the Fire Court was prickling across the back of his neck. He couldn't allow them both to adjourn to his room with him. He needed the servants to see Sokka at least. Better still if the healing and everything else could be handled quickly enough that Katara's absence wouldn't even be noticed, but at the very least Sokka couldn't be seen missing.

Besides, this was private.

"No," he said with more force than he had intended. They turned matching scowls on him at once. Zuko tipped his chin a little higher and met their stares. "Sokka stays here."

"Why?" Katara demanded.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," he snapped. "It's just the next room. If you shout loud enough he'll hear you anyway. He doesn't need to be there." Zuko glared at her harder, hoping to disguise the heat suddenly rising in his face. "Unless you're that scared."

"Obvious taunt much?" Sokka said under his breath, but Katara didn't seem to hear.

"I already told you," she snapped. "I'm not afraid of you. You know I'm not."

Maybe not when I'm naked and unsuspecting. Zuko worked his jaw and barely held back the retort. "Then quit wasting my time," he said, and angled his body in an 'after you' gesture toward his door.

.


.

Katara glared at Zuko's stupid face and not the rest of him. He stood so straight and tall, and concealed his injuries so smoothly. If he even really had any. Just looking at him, she felt the most intense surge of… feelings. Not good feelings exactly, and not bad feelings entirely. More than anything right now, she wanted to reach out and shove him. Ignoring Sokka's cautionary murmurs, she stalked through the door ahead of him.

She didn't see the final glare that passed between Zuko and Sokka. All she heard was the door snapping shut behind her, too loud in this quiet room. Katara whirled around to face her enemy, only to find him already striding past her toward the middle of the room. Toward his bed.

The light of four lanterns and the candles on his altar put a hazy gleam on his tunic and his back was wide and straight beneath it. This was the man she had given herself to. This was the man who had fathered her child. And then betrayed her.

Katara shook off the thoughts. She had to stay sharp. There had to be some trap here. Zuko wanted more than just a discreet healing. He wanted to get her alone, to get revenge on her for threatening him. Whatever he was planning, he would fail. Katara would make sure of that. But until he made his move, she would play along. She wanted to see Toph, and she wasn't going to give him an easy excuse to break their deal.

Zuko pulled the knot in his sash apart slowly, but he turned to face away from Katara, so all she saw were the motions of his elbows. There was a slithering sound of silk and then he dropped the sash to the floor. "There's a pitcher to your left," he said as he was shrugging out of his stiff outer tunic.

Katara yanked her eyes from the muscles his sleeveless undershirt couldn't hide and found a pitcher of water by the door where he'd said. With a surreptitious glance back at him, she bent the water into the air in a small stream.

Zuko was watching her steadily, completely shirtless now and waiting. He didn't look alarmed, just ready. "Are you going to do this from the doorway, too?"

The urge to give him one solid whip was almost irresistible. "I wish," Katara spat, then stalked toward him. Her chains jangled in the quiet. He seemed to get bigger as she got closer, and the marks on his torso became clearer, too. Bruises, mostly, some older than others. Katara huffed. "I can't do anything about most of this. I can bring down the swelling but the color will probably just have to run its course."

"Do what you can."

Katara stole a glance at his face to find him staring fixedly off over her head. She drew a breath, set her mouth in a line, and put her water to work.

It wasn't as uncomfortable as she had expected. She didn't need to touch him at all, really. And since he wasn't watching her, she could almost feel clinical about this. She could almost pretend she was just treating one of the villagers back home, or Sokka after that time he fell down the escarpment.

After she had dealt with the worst of it, Zuko raised his arm and indicated a red, swollen place on his ribs. "Here."

With just the tips of her fingers, Katara probed along the bones beneath. "This might be a fracture. I probably shouldn't try to do anything with it, since I've only healed scrapes and burns before. Going under the skin could be dangerous."

Zuko looked at her then, and for once he hardly seemed angry at all. He just watched Katara until she scowled and snatched her fingertips off his skin. Then he went back to staring past her. "Try."

"Fine. If I kill you, I'm saying it was your own stupid fault."

"Fine," Zuko said through his teeth.

She did what she could without touching him, and it turned out to be quite a bit. Katara had been awake for only one of Loska's treatments before she was moved to the brig, and for all that it had been a tense moment, Katara had learned a little about reinforcing the bond between mending bones. Now, if she could just get injured and healed a dozen or so other ways, she might have a passable repertoire as a healer herself.

When she was done, Katara took a few steps back. Zuko frowned at her, but she only crossed her arms. "I want to see Toph in the afternoons."

"We aren't finished yet."

"How many times did Sokka hit you?" she huffed.

"I didn't count," Zuko sneered, "but I hit him more."

Katara rolled her eyes and looked away from him, shaking her head. "Can we just get this over with already so I can go?"

Zuko scowled at her a moment longer, then kicked off his shoes and began pulling apart the ties of his pants. Katara, only seeing this from the corner of her eye, felt her face heating again. He wasn't going to take everything off, was he? And was he going to just keep standing there like that? Would he expect her to tend his wounds on her knees? Was he going to look down at her like-

She hadn't thought of it in so long, Jeeka's taunt and the accompanying mental image, but it came back to her now. Zuko's yellow eyes watching her down the length of his torso, hard and pitiless. Katara felt the same rush of revulsion and arousal, burning shame. But now it was worse. Now her mind was filling in details she hadn't known before. The smell of his body, the texture of his most intimate skin. Now she was weighed down by these chains, both literal and metaphorical.

But the former were chains from which she could break free in a second, which was all the time it would take for Zuko's ruthless stare to crack on an edge of fear. And that knowledge, that Katara might seem to be under his control but was in fact just as powerful as ever, only made the fantasy more enticing.

Fantasy? Katara's eyes bulged and she pinched her leg through the fabric of her pants. What was wrong with her? She hated him, she didn't want to be anywhere near him, much less entertain perverse daydreams about him.

"You're acting awfully shy after that stunt you pulled earlier."

Katara whipped around to find Zuko lowering himself to the edge of his bed. He was watching her with a pleased, almost mocking look, wearing nothing but Fire Nation underwear.

Katara crossed her arms. "I am not acting shy. I've just seen quite enough of you for one day."

Zuko's frown deepened and he went back to glaring at the far wall. "Then heal my knee so you can get out."

"Gladly."

Katara crouched beside his extended leg and raised her water around the joint, even though she wasn't sure what to do for a sprain or whatever this was. It was different from other wounds, harder to find the source of the pain. For a long while, Katara just examined the joint, pressing at different spots with her water. Then, she found it.

"Ah-!" Zuko jerked and his hands clenched where they had been resting on his fine coverlet.

Katara shot him a glare but found he'd pinched his eyes shut. "Hold still," she said quietly.

"I am holding still," Zuko spat. And he was, he was sitting perfectly upright while his fingers fisted around his bedding.

Katara rolled her eyes and focused on dispersing the swelling and regenerating what had been damaged. She went slowly, not wanting to do this incorrectly regardless of the identity of her patient. And besides, it seemed to hurt a lot more than her usual healings and Katara wasn't above stretching out her captor's suffering.

At last, Zuko relaxed and let out a ragged sigh. Sweat dotted his temples and his eyes had a glassy look when he opened them. Katara stood up in a rush and folded her arms, letting her water splatter to the floor. She didn't feel bad for him. Not at all.

"Walk around a little. See how it feels."

Zuko nodded and braced himself for a moment, then climbed to his feet. He took a few even steps, then assumed a firebending stance, flexing his knee more and more. "It's tight," he said, bending to retrieve his pants, "but better."

"Be sure to stretch every day." Katara looked away as he dressed and shrugged. "Unless you want it to hurt again."

Zuko finished with the ties and looked at her for a long moment, a thoughtful tilt to his brow. Katara fought the urge to squirm, suddenly feeling as if her last words might have suggested that she cared if he hurt himself - which she didn't. At last, Zuko seemed to come to some decision and his usual stormy look settled back over his face. It was a relief.

"I'll admit you caught me by surprise this afternoon," he said in that quiet, threatening voice he used to use when they first met, "but you won't get that lucky again. The next time you come into my room uninvited, you'll regret it."

"Pff, what are you gonna do? Threaten to take Sokka away every time I do something you don't like?"

"That's public action. What you did today was private, just between you and me." He began slowly walking toward her. Katara took one step back and held her ground. "And if you want to threaten me in private, that's fine. If you want to goad me into a fight when no one else can see, alright. But I'm warning you, Katara-"

He was coming too close. Katara took another step back, hit something solid, and sat down hard on his bed. Zuko frowned down at her, out of arm's reach but close enough to make standing up awkward.

"I'll fight back, and I will defeat you."

Katara glared right back at him, but she couldn't help it. Her eyes darted down his naked belly, just for an instant. He would see, she knew he had to see the sweep of her eyes. But she couldn't help it. She hated Zuko more than anyone else alive, more than the Fire Lord himself, but somehow that wasn't enough to make her stop desiring the sleek strength of his body.

He blinked and a confused, incredulous look flashed over his face. Katara felt herself beginning to blush. She had to take control of this situation.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" she demanded. "I've beaten you before and I'll beat you again."

"With my bath water? I don't think so." He was so self-assured, she hated how certain he was. It made her skin crackle. It made her want to shove him just to feel his hot flesh for that instant. "But you go ahead and try me, Katara. We'll see how it plays out."

"Yeah, let's see!"

Katara surged to her feet and swept her arms to whip the water up off the floor at his back, but Zuko just threw himself at her, bearing her immediately back down on the bed. The scuffle was short and unfair and the water fell out of the air on top of them like a sudden rain, unnoticed.

With both of her hands pinned under his, Katara could only glare up at him. He was smirking down at her, so pleased with his petty little victory, and before she could censor the thought, Katara wondered if he had smirked this way in the dark of the hold while he moved inside her. The thought filled her with fresh rage - and a vengeful kind of desire.

She jerked her hands under his and bared her teeth. "This doesn't prove anything!"

"Right. You'll just have to try again later. Maybe you'll get lucky."

"I don't need luck," she hissed, and then tried to knee him where he straddled her hips. The angle was all wrong and she only ended up mashing her thigh against his backside.

Zuko's eyes bulged, then narrowed. "Quit struggling. You shouldn't strain yourself in your condition."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you! You just tackled me!"

"I didn't land on you. You hit the bed harder than I hit you."

This was actually true, and knowing that made Katara furious. "Shut up!" She wrenched at her hands, trying to twist her fingers away from his enough to manage just a tiny bending gesture. He held her tight, though, with his fingers laced through hers so that she had no room to move at all. Finally, Katara jerked one last time and let out an infuriated sound. "Rrh! Let me go!"

"And let you attack me again? I don't think so." The amusement was gone from his expression, replaced by a hint of worry. "You need to calm down. You're going to hurt yourself-"

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"-or the baby."

"Oh please! We both know this baby is going to ruin everything for you, so quit pretending like you care."

Zuko abruptly let go of her hands and sat back, his one eyebrow angled high. "You think," he said softly, "I don't want my son."

Katara hesitated with her hands still flat on the bed, as stunned by his sudden retreat as she was by the genuine shock and hurt on his face. In her silence, Zuko wrenched away and stalked several paces from her. In the middle of the room, he whipped around and spoke in a viciously controlled tone.

"You're the one who didn't want him."

Katara leapt to her feet, bristling. "I never-"

"On your father's ship," Zuko spat. "You said we were too young, and it was a bad time. You had decided to end it. That's what you said."

"That doesn't mean I didn't want-"

"You only changed your mind when you realized you could use my own son against me."

Katara jerked back in shock but then quickly recovered and stomped across the room toward him until she was close enough to jab a finger hard against his chest. "You put me in chains and locked me up in a cell like an animal and you think you can take the moral high ground? I didn't decide to get pregnant, and yeah, I did plan to stop it - before I realized you were willing to throw away our future for your stupid throne! You took everything from me, every choice I had, so when Azula made me her slimy little offer, of course I saw things in a different light!" She threw her arms up in the air. "You're the one who put me in this position and you still have no clue what you've done to me. You have no idea how I feel, so don't you dare say I don't love my child! Don't you dare!"

For a long moment, Zuko glared down at her and Katara glared right back, both too angry to speak. Then, finally, Zuko took a step away and pinched the bridge of his nose, his mouth twisting into a bitter grimace. When he looked back at her and spoke, his voice was low and stiff.

"What do you mean," he enunciated, "about Azula making you an offer?"

Katara crossed her arms, irritated that he would dodge the subject but also a little relieved. "She had me brought up from the brig and tried to get me to drink the medicine Suki gave me. Someone found it in my clothes and knew what it was."

She stopped to watch as Zuko's face stretched out in horror. Then he took three steps from Katara and kicked his altar across the room, lit candles and all. Hot wax splattered the floor and one candle rolled dangerously close to the bed. Katara made a noise of disapproval but her voice was lost under Zuko's.

"How could you let this happen!"

"Me?" Katara threw her arms out to either side, but they jerked to a stop at the ends of her chains. "You're blaming me for this?"

"You were carrying that medicine on you?" Zuko paced back and forth, glaring at her, flinging out his arms. "Azula probably didn't even know anything before you talked to her and now she knows you're pregnant with my son! What else did you tell her, Katara? Did you tell her I proposed? Oh! Or maybe you told her how long I spent believing you were the Avatar!"

"No, but maybe if you shout it a little louder, she'll hear it from you!"

"Katara!" Sokka, who had burst in as soon as he could after hearing the table hit the wall, stood by the door, assessing the situation. He shot Zuko a hard look, and pointedly lowered his voice. "Katara, are you done healing Zuko?"

"Yes!" she snarled as she stomped toward the door. "I'm done healing him, I'm done talking to him, I'm done!"

Zuko followed after her, growling rather than shouting. "Are you done looking at me, too? Because I was starting to get uncomfortable."

Katara wheeled around to face him. "Why you arrogant-"

Sokka grabbed her arm and dragged her through the door. "Yes! She's definitely done with all those things. We're going to our room right now."

"Good!" Zuko stormed past them into the sitting room. "Stay there."

"Where do you think you're going?" Katara demanded as Sokka hustled her toward their room. Zuko just kept on stalking toward the door to the corridor. She sniped at his back. "Fine! Don't tell me! You might want to put a shirt on, bruise boy."

Zuko froze with his hand on the door, then turned back to glower at her. Just from his look, Katara could tell she was right, and he hated it. She smirked. Sokka's grip tightened on her arm. Finally, without a word, Zuko stomped back into his room.

Sokka hustled her into theirs and only spoke when the door was shut behind them. "Did he hurt you? I honestly didn't expect him to do anything-"

Katara slouched and scowled back at the door. "Ugh, I hate him! He's the most infuriating, unfair, selfish-"

"Katara," Sokka leaned close, gripping her shoulders and peering searchingly into her eyes, "did he hurt you?"

There was a burning in her chest and throat, and if Katara had been the girl she used to be, she would have pressed her face to Sokka's shoulder and cried it out. But Katara was a warrior. Tears were for the helpless.

"Like he could," she snapped. She jerked away from Sokka, shook her chains, and began pacing the tiny room. "Do you know what he said? He said he wants the baby more than I do! How could he say that?"

"I don't know," Sokka said, "maybe-"

"He acts like I'm in the wrong! I'm the heartless, conniving one." Katara slowed her pacing, and stopped. She wrapped her arms around herself and glared at the folding screen, the softly glowing lanterns. She tried not to look in the mirrors, but it was impossible not to see.

There she was. That hard woman, furious and desperate. That woman who could do what it took to survive.

She watched in her reflection as Sokka settled his hand on her shoulder once more. "You're joking, right? Katara, you're pretty much the most caring, sympathetic person I know. Zuko is deeply confused about a lot of stuff, especially family. I've been trying to imagine what he plans to do with us when we get to the Fire Nation and it just doesn't add up."

Katara turned to look at him, taking comfort in his clear-sightedness, the distance that allowed him to think these things through. "What do you mean?"

Sokka spoke carefully, his hand still warm on her shoulder. "Zuko isn't going to try to deny the baby is his, right? Now maybe if you were just any girl, he'd be able to hide you away somewhere and let you raise the kid in secret. But you aren't just any girl; you're the Southern Princess of the Water Tribe, a valuable hostage with anti-Fire Nation politics. People will be suspicious if you just vanish. And," he sighed as if reluctant to go on, "I really doubt anyone in the Fire Nation would be comfortable with you raising the Crown Prince's firstborn."

Katara's mouth sagged open as she started to see where he was going with this. "You think Zuko's planning to take my baby away from me. That hypocrite!"

"I don't think he's planning at all," Sokka corrected. "Whatever he thinks is gonna happen when we get to the Fire Nation, he's not being realistic."

Katara wasn't sure she believed this. It was easier to accept that Zuko was cruel, that he meant to do the exact thing he'd accused her of planning, because then she could simply be angry with him and dismiss the tangle of other emotions tugging her this way and that. She could forget the look on his face when he'd jerked away from her, their struggle forgotten. You think I don't want my son.

"It doesn't matter anyway," she finally said. "We aren't going to hang around long enough to find out."

.


.

Zuko scowled where he hovered on the other side of their door, then finished tying off his sash and stalked out of the sitting room. As he pulled the knot snug at his belly, other knots were tightening.

They thought they would get away from him so easily. And yet he was supposed to be deeply confused and unrealistic? When they made their bid for freedom, he'd show them a fight like they'd never seen before. Oh, they were going to be sorry.

Zuko stalked up to Azula's chamber, shot the servant at the door a glare, and slammed through the door into the sitting room. A few handmaidens stared at him, startled and frozen, but the rest of the room was empty. "Azula!" Zuko barked.

From the open dressing room door, there came a lofty sigh. "If you've come for a game of Pai Sho, I must disappoint you. I'm simply exhausted from the day." Azula appeared in the doorway and didn't even try to be convincing with her fake yawn. She was, however, dressed for bed, with her hair loose and freshly combed.

Zuko didn't care, and he didn't care about the half-dozen servants hovering about the room, each of them unobtrusively tense. "We need to talk," he spat. "Now."

Azula assessed him for a drawn-out moment, then dismissed the servants and settled on the heap of cushions gathered on one side of her tea table. "Alright, Zuko," she said in a pleasant, almost anticipatory tone. "What is it you want to talk about?"

Zuko struck his arms out to his sides. "How could you not tell me you knew Katara was pregnant?"

"Apart from your… exploits being a distasteful topic to broach," Azula said, a cunning smirk deepening in the corners of her mouth, "of course I would tell you if I knew such a threat against the throne existed."

Face heating, Zuko balled his hands into fists and glared. "Stop it, Azula. I know you know, so quit lying!"

"I'm not lying. I'm simply telling you-" Her eyes were so keen, so bright. "-no such threat exists."

Zuko stared at her, uncomprehending even though a spot in his stomach was turning to ice.

"I suppose you need it spelled out. Very well." Azula leaned toward him, her sharp nails grazing the polished surface of the table. "There is no pregnancy, Zuko. There never was."