A/N: Sorry for the late update – I've been sick for days and was driven to the hospital last night with fever that just kept rising and potential kidney problems! Discharged now and hopefully going to be fine (still sick though; gotta love being immunocompromised).
They leave the same night. Unable to fall asleep, Katara stays up all night, driven to watch over Azula. True to Meiyo's word, the crew of the ship – a small scout boat, five crew members – don't bother them, don't even speak to them unless necessary. Their cabin, if it even deserves that name, is barely three by four paces large, with nothing but a double bunk bed. Their luggage takes up half the room. Outside the door, the boat's furnace is burning, occasionally fed by fire bursts from the engineer. If Katara straightens up all the way, she almost hits her head on the ceiling.
It's perfect. Nobody will expect the Fire Lord to travel in such a way.
When the sun rises, and with it Azula, Katara falls asleep in her stead. Her sleep is restless, haunted by nightmares, and more than once, Azula sits down on the bunk to brush hair out of Katara's face while she threshes around in bed.
By evening, they reach Ember Island. The boat docks outside the Fire Lord's house and its private beach.
"You know your orders", Azula instructs after the crew are done unloading her and Katara's luggage and their supplies. "Dock on the other side of the island. If anyone asks, you're on leave. Drinks are on me as long as you know to stop before you start talking about things that don't concern you."
The lieutenant in command salutes. "Yes, Your Highness."
She counts out more money than the crew have ever seen in their life, and their eyes grow as she piles it into the lieutenant's hand. After that, their bows get much deeper, although they are still as taciturn as the captain promised to her.
The boat pulls away, and with that, they're alone.
Being back in the house is weird, Katara thinks. The last time she was here, it was with the others, before the comet. She half expects to see Sokka making a sand statue, or Aang meditating on the balcony. She vividly remembers getting together in the courtyard, can still taste the fruit juice, smell the dinners they've cooked together. But of couse, the house is empty.
"What in Agni's name happened here?", Azula exclaims when she sees the burns and the broken doors.
"Hm? Oh, Zuko used it for some impromptu training with Aang."
'Chased him around the house until we thought he was trying to kill him' would be more accurate.
Azula grimaces at the mention of her brother as if she'd bitten on a lemon. "I'll add it to the charges against him."
They settle into the Fire Lord's bedroom and unpack. The wooden house and simple surroundings (compared to the palace) remind Katara of the hunt, so long ago now, but this time, there can be no question of sleeping separately. They work together to make the bed – or rather, Katara makes the bed and directs Azula to lend a hand, seeing how Azula has never had to make her own bed before. It takes a while, and Katara realises she's not as used to it any more as she was after living in the palace for years, but eventually, the bed is made, their clothes are hung in the closet, and a candle is burning on the nightstand.
It's… Azula refuses to call it cozy. It's a far cry from the palace, but it could pass for comfortable, she supposes, even though she resents being back in this house. She almost expects to hear Zuko's irritating laughter around the corner, or her mother's voice, doting on poor Zuzu when he'd inevitably scrape his knee or whatever. So sickeningly domestic.
Something else catches her attention. Katara is pacing up and down.
"Alright, out with it. What's the matter?"
Katara smiles weakly, found out. "Is it that obvious?"
"Yes", Azula confirms. "So, what is it?"
"It's the ocean", Katara admits. "So much water… it's been calling to me the entire time."
On the boat, she's pushed it aside, thoughts too focused on guarding Azula in her sleep, standing watch surrounded by five soldiers she's never met. But now… there's a longing in her voice that almost makes Azula jealous, a tone she hasn't heard since Katara's first full moon. A longing she wants to hear for herself, not just for the ocean.
"Can we go? Please?"
Azula… frankly, she doesn't want to. The sun has set while they've settled in; she's tired and wants to go to bed. But the yearning on Katara's face, the beginning disappointment as she guesses Azula's answer before Azula even opens her mouth, sway her.
"Very well. If you must."
The words haven't fully left her mouth when she finds herself engulfed by an armful of Katara, her arms squeezing the air out of Azula's lungs, her lips crashing into Azula's for a passionate kiss. They stumble a step back and hit the wardrobe as Azula reciprocates – it's a hungry kiss, but Katara puts all her relief, all her gratitude into it. When they come up for air, there is a glimmer in Katara's eyes Azula has never seen before.
"Let's go!"
Katara dashes off at a pace that Azula has trouble keeping up with. Out of the house, down the path, and Azula even loses sight of Katara at one point. When she catches up, Katara is kneeling in the wet sand, the surf lapping at her every few seconds. There are tears streaming down her face, Azula realises as she approaches, and she habitually checks the surrounding for onlookers before sitting down next to Katara.
(There are none. She owns this beach as far as the eye can see.)
"I can feel it", Katara whispers, crying uncontrollably. "La. It's here."
She laughs through the tears as she bends shapes out of the water, lets it dance between her hands, run through her fingers. The water comes to her when she beckons for it, and she lets it surround her, digs her fingers into the beach, just feels La's embrace. The moon is only half full, but even so, Tui's light empowers her, strengthens her more the further up the sky the moon climbs. She couldn't say how much time she spends like that, just playing with the ocean, dancing with the water running up her arms and down on the other side, bending to her will, before she remembers Azula is still there.
"Zula", she calls out – an accident, perhaps, the wind or her tears swallowing the first syllable – and the nickname – so familiar, even though Katara can't possibly know – sounds strange to Azula's ears. "Do you swim?"
Azula can swim, of course. Wanting to is an entirely different story. It's not something she's done before unless necessary. Her father's teachings echo in her head.
Water is the element of the enemy, Princess Azula. Never forget that. They have perverted it, turned this elixir of life into a weapon. It freezes, it crushes, and it drowns. Never forget that.
"Not usually", she cautiously answers. Katara notices her hesitation and draws all the wrong conclusions, for once. It's satisfying, Azula thinks, that she retains some unreadability at least, when Katara is usually so good at reading every thought from her face.
"Don't worry", Katara promises as she takes Azula's hand and leads her towards the surf. "I'll keep you safe."
Azula has never been one to back down from a challenge.
"Who says I'm worried?", she remarks. joining Katara in stripping off her overgarments. They run into the oncoming waves together.
Katara swims like a dolphin shark, one with the water, a combination of swimming and bending, and against her will, Azula finds herself impressed, even after all she's seen Katara bend before. She swims circles around Azula, dives more elegantly than Azula had thought possible before. She may as well be water. It's a mastery, a union with an element, that Azula will never know.
"Race you?", Katara suggests. "First one to reach that rock wins!"
"You're on."
Azula does not win. It shouldn't surprise her, not when Katara dashes off like a lit firework rocket, but it stings regardless. Still, part of her can't deny the excitement she feels, the attraction, perhaps, at being beaten at something by Katara. Seeing her effortlessly best Azula, it's the same feeling she's experienced before, when Katara has beaten her at the dojo and pinned Azula to the floor.
"Cheating", she gasps when she catches up. "Bending doesn't count."
"You wish", Katara laughs. "I don't need bending to beat you. I've been swimming all my life, remember?"
"Right", Azula scoffs. "And I'm supposed to belie—"
She doesn't get to finish the sentence before her foot slips off the wet rock and she goes under. For a split second, she panics, wildly thrashing, before Katara dives after her. The water around Azula's head disappears as Katara wills it back, and she feels air streaming into the void Katara has formed.
"What— wow", Azula breathes.
"I told you I'd keep you safe." Katara smiles. "Wanna explore?"
Emboldened by her surprise rescue, Azula nods, and they dive deeper. This close to the coast, the ocean is shallow, but the seafloor is still strewn with clutter – jugs, coins, broken dishes; signs of parties long gone. Katara pulls a rusty sword from the mud and mockingly waves it around. A fish grazes Azula's leg and she shrieks before bursting out laughing against her will. Down here, nobody but Katara can witness her embarrassing herself.
But the deeper they go, the more Azula feels the pressure. Not of the water; Katara's bending keeps that at bay. But down here, with sheer unimaginable amounts of water above them, very little moonlight filters through, and not far away, the ocean floor sharply drops off to a depth Azula can only speculate about… too late, she realises what's going on as her breath hitches in her throat and her heartbeat starts racing.
Breathe, Azula. Don't let your fear control you. Strength of the mind will discipline your body.
But her body betrays her. Her grip tightens around Katara's hand. That, and her clenched jaw, her lips pressed tightly together, tips Katara off. Would tip anyone off, really.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine."
It's so obvious that she's not fine, Katara almost feels a little insulted at the lie.
"What is it?"
"Nothing", Azula snaps. "I said I'm fine."
"I just want to help", Katara snaps back. "Cut the crap."
"I said it's nothing!" Azula wants to yank her hand from Katara's, but the overwhelming fear of the crushing depths paralyses her. "I've seen enough water. Let's go back inside."
Once they surface, Azula fights the impulse to run from the water, to gasp for air until she's sure she can breathe again. She manages, but just mostly. Neither of them speaks as they climb the path back to the house, as Katara bends the water out of their clothes. In the kitchen, Azula starts the fireplace with a well-aimed bending kick in passing, and Katara rummages through the food they've brought, wordlessly slamming some jerky and bread on the table.
When they've crawled under the covers, Azula wrestles with her pride and gets close to saying something several times. She sways between guilt for her moment of weakness and guilt for hurting Katara, angry at herself for both. But before she can reach a decision, Katara falls asleep. It takes a long time for Azula to follow.