A/N: Not to celebrate prematurely (knocking on wood so hard rn), but last evening was the first time the fever went down, so I'm calling that a good sign.

When Katara wakes up the next morning, Azula, unsurprisingly, is already awake. After splashing some water in her face and getting dressed, Katara wanders out of the bedroom and through the house and finds Azula out front, meditating on the porch under the rising sun. Katara wordlessly sits down next to her and waits for her to finish.

"Hey", she greets when Azula opens her eyes.

"Katara", Azula nods.

For a second, there is a hesitation between them, a distance, as neither is willing to talk about last night. Then Katara leans in and Azula is all too willing to meet her lips.

"Morning", Azula whispers into the kiss.

On a whim, Katara drops her head on Azula's shoulder, and they sit in silence, watching the sun rise, occasionally turning to each other for a kiss. At some point, Azula's hand finds Katara's. It's only when their stomachs rumble that they can tear their eyes off the sky and each other.

Having a firebender around is convenient for cooking, Katara realises. Azula has never cooked herself, has always left it to lackeys, or when none were available, to Mai, but she can light a fire or boil water, and with Katara's guidance, she can chop garlic-onions and stir them in the pan. It's demeaning, Azula thinks, but she finds a certain comfort in the domesticity. No guards, no servants… just Katara and her.

So this is how the commoners live, part of her thinks, and she pushes the thought away. She can vividly imagine Katara's reaction to it, if she ever were to hear it.

Smoked and dried fish with fried beetroot-potato isn't exactly a gourmet meal, but it is filling. It's impressive, Azula admits, being able to just cook like that. It's not a skill that's necessary for someone in her position; no reason to feel inferior for not possessing it, but nevertheless, it increases her appreciation for Katara. Only a few layers of social standing below Azula, between the impoverished nobles and newly-rich socialites, cooking themselves isn't uncommon, at least every once in a while.

"So, what do we do today?", Katara asks between bites.

Azula shrugs. What is there to do? She's away from the palace, away from her office, her staff. All insignificant projects have been put on hold until she returns, and if anything requires her attention, she'll receive a hawk. There is nothing to do.

"I didn't mean work", Katara duhs when Azula says as much. "I meant, what do we want to do today?"

For the last three years, there hasn't been a lot of room for 'want' in Azula's schedule. She shrugs.

"We could go to the beach again", Katara eagerly suggests, and Azula grimaces. Katara's face falls and Azula's stomach twists into a knot.

"I guess that's a no."

Sighing, Azula reaches for Katara's hand across the table.

"Last night… it wasn't your fault", she starts softly. "When we were underwater, I…"

"I know", Katara beats her to it. "You panicked."

Azula nods, a little hurt at hearing Katara mention it so nonchalantly.

"I was angry at myself", she continues. "I shouldn't have been afraid. I should have trusted your protection, but my feelings betrayed me."

"Azula…"

"I'm supposed to be above this. I can't let my fear rule me. It was weak, and I hated it."

"Oh please", Katara snorts. "Stop it already. You're not 'weak', no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise."

Over Azula's protest, she continues, "you are the absolute ruler over one of the two biggest nations. You've survived four attempts on your life. You're one of the best firebenders I've ever seen. You were a pain in our ass for months back then, and trust me, we all would have preferred you being weak. But the point is, you're not."

A little taken back, Azula can't think of a response. "It's nice of you to say that" is the best she can come up with.

They spend the day doing nothing, at least nothing worth mentioning. After washing up – a little abashed at Katara's unexpected praise and lecture, Azula offers to help, and Katara lets her dry after washing with her bending –, Katara goes through her katas in the courtyard while Azula broods inside, speculating about what might be going on at home. In the afternoon, Katara sits down on the porch with paper and quill and draws the view: the beach, the sunset, the little hills, the piers and mansions in the distance. She's gotten quite good at it, Azula thinks as she walks by and takes a peek.

After dinner, they crawl into bed together. Azula has outgrown her over the past year and Katara can fit comfortably in her arms, slot her head under Azula's. It feels safe, safer than she ever thought she could feel around her. Azula runs a little warm, and with the breeze blowing in from the ocean, it's a welcome heat.

The next day is equally uneventful. Katara reads, Azula exercises. They meditate together, Azula feeling the heat of the sun with every breath, Katara feeling the rolling waves of the ocean below them. The sun journey across the sky at an agonisingly slow pace, and Katara has finished two entire books by the time it sets.

By the third day, she feels like she's going nuts with boredom.

"I almost want the murder attempts back", she jokes while she's preparing soup. Azula, after starting the fire, dutifully stirs.

"I feel quite fine without the constant threat of looming death, thank you", she answers. "But, if it makes you feel better, I suppose I can try to kill you later?"

Katara throws a spoon at her.

Once done, they eat outside, overlooking the beach and the rising sun.

"Thank you", Azula says when Katara hands her a bowl, gently blowing on it to cool it down.

"This", Katara gestures at them and the house, "is strange. Doing everything myself… I feel like I'm back on the run, but instead of the others, it's with you."

"And how does that feel?", Azula asks as neutrally as possible.

"I don't really know", Katara admits. "I miss them a lot. The last time I was here, we were happy. Safe. We thought we had time."

"The last time I was here was with Zuko", Azula muses. "After Ba Sing Se. And before that… it must have been at least six more years. I was nine."

"Hold on", Katara holds up her hand. "Ba Sing Se was three years ago, right?" When Azula nods, she counts on her fingers, "three years ago, six years before that, nine… you're the same age as me‽"

"Yes? I suppose." Azula hasn't celebrated a birthday in years. Too busy. "Why?"

"To be honest, I always thought you were older than me."

Azula raises an eyebrow. "I'm the little sister, remember?"

"How would I know?", Katara counters. "It's not like Zuko sat down with us for some family history. Spirits, I don't even know how old he is."

"Two years older", Azula supplies. "Father was quite happy when I was born. He still wasn't sure Zuko would ever develop bending, and you know the rest." She shrugs. "I was a prodigy from day one."

She empties her bowl, sips the last drops of broth.

"Out of curiosity, how old did you think I was?"

"I don't know, exactly. Sixteen, seventeen maybe? When we met, I mean. I was fourteen, fifteen at the end of it all."

It's strangely flattering. All her life, Azula has been the little sister: to her mother, to Zuko, to Uncle. Father was the only one who never cared, she remembers. He never belittled me. I was an adult as far as he was concerned. The princess, the unspoken heir. Never a little girl.

"It's a little fucked up, isn't it", Katara muses. "I left home at fourteen because I thought I had to. I've been taking care of Sokka like my mother did, I've killed people like my father did… when I was fifteen, I fought you to the death…" She looks up, looks at Azula. "How old were you when you started… working for him? Fighting in his name?"

"Does it matter? I trained as soon as I was old enough to stand. I was always ready…"

She trails off, overcome by memories. Lectures by her father. Coming home sore after training for an entire day, on the day of her tenth birthday. Burns and sprains from training too hard, too rough.

I was ready, she assures herself. I learned, I worked hard, and I paid the price to be the best. But the words ring holloww even in her own mind. Next to her, Katara sees the emotional turmoil on her face and knows better than to push the matter. She leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to Azula's cheek.

"Let's go swimming", Azula suddenly decides.

"Are you sure?"

Azula meets Katara's eyes, meets her questioning look with one of her own, hard as steel.

"I've never been more sure."

Element of the enemy? Weakness? Fear? I'll show you, she thinks. If only you could see me now… Your lessons didn't take, Father. You are no longer my master. I am my own.

Once they're at the beach and walking into the waves, Katara forgets the tense morning and just swims. Azula is right next to her, and although her style leaves a lot to be desired, Katara is impressed with her commitment to keep up with her. Azula doesn't swim well, but she makes up for it with the same determination she brings to every other task.

"Let's dive again", Azula suggests once they've swam far enough out. Katara comes to a stop next to her, treading water.

"Azula…", she cautions. "Are you really sure? The last time—"

"I have to face this", Azula calmly states. "I can't let my fear control me. I have to be in control. Anything else is unacceptable. And besides… you'll be there. You can keep me safe."

The next words melt all of Katara's resistance.

"I trust you, Katara."

They dive. Just like last time, Katara bends the water away from their heads, lets air stream into the void she's formed around them before they descend. It's not quite as elegant as Aang's air bubbles, but the effect is the same. Azula takes the lead, pushing on downwards, past the gentle slope of the seafloor and all the way up to the edge. Below them, the floor drops off into total darkness, farther than the eye can see.

"Azula…"

When Azula turns around, Katara can see the panic in her eyes, in her rapid breathing. But this time, Azula reaches out for Katara, takes both of her hands in hers, loses herself in Katara's eyes while her heartbeat pounds in her ears and she feels like the air is being sucked out of her lungs.

"I can do this", she mumbles, more to herself than to Katara. "I can do this. I will persevere."

Katara holds her hands. Pulls Azula closer as they're standing on the ocean floor, strokes her back while Azula's breathing slowly returns to its normal pace.

"How does it feel?"

"Terrifying", Azula admits. "I can feel the pressure, even through your bending. It's like I'm drowning and being crushed all at once. I…" She falters slightly. "I can't help but imagine what happens if your bending fails."

"It won't", Katara assures her. "Aang and me have done this a hundred times. Trust me."

"I… I do." Azula takes a deep breath. "I do."

"Hey", Katara takes Azula's face in her hands. "Come here."

The possibility of merging their air bubbles never occured to Azula. But when Katara presses her lips to hers, it seems so obvious. For a split second, she worries if the kiss won't distract Katara from keeping them alive, but these thoughts, and any others, leave her head when Katara's tongue nudges against her lips. Azula opens up, pulls Katara against her until their bodies are flush. At some point, they lose contact with the seafloor and Katara feels weightless as they float around, bodies wrapped around each other.

Kissing like this feels like flying, like she's being struck by lightning, setting her nerves on fire. Every fibre of her tingles, a sensation unlike anything she's ever felt. Katara can feel Azula's heart beating against her own; Azula can feel every one of Katara's breaths. Azula feels like she's burning up; Katara feels like she is holding a full moon in her arms, like Azula is rushing through her veins.

I want you. Tui and La, how I want you. Here, now, forever.

Agni help me, I never want to let you go.