Chapter Text
Sokka and Suki’s eldest child appears not to understand the concept of think first, speak after. A white lie to cover an ugly truth, or a sugared message to deliver notions with sensitivity are a lost art on the young eight-year-old. “Why do you always spend your days being boring, Uncle Zuko?” little Lurik remarks, pointing a grubby finger at the scroll Zuko currently reviews.
Zuko sighs, trying to brush away the fingermark at the corner of the parchment. “Where are your parents, Lurik?” Zuko calmly inquires.
Lurik shrugs, and says that his parents said they needed some “re-energising time, whatever that means” – though Zuko had a good guess to what exactly that means. “So, they said to come and hang out with you, Uncle Zuko,” Lurik finishes, grinning; baring the gap in his two front teeth.
“Wouldn’t you rather spend your time with Uncle Aang?” Zuko asks, “or Aunt Toph. I think they’re both in the courtya-”
“No, they’re just practising their bending or whatever”.
“And? Wouldn’t that be more exciting than sitting here and watching me look over policies?”
“Yea it would,” Lurik nods.
Zuko stares momentarily at the young child, “so...maybe you should be on your way-”
“What about this?” Lurik continues, immediately disregarding the previous dialogue as he presses his index over one of the addressees of the policy, smudging the ink slightly, “who is that? And that? Why do they all have the first name Governor?”
Zuko sighs, refraining from rubbing his temples, “a Governor is a title”.
“A title?”
“Its like a job. Like how mine is Fire Lord, or your grandfather’s is Chief-”
“We don’t have Governors down in Wolf Cove,” Lurik remarks informatively, nodding his head as if in agreement with his own sentiment.
“Lucky for you,” Zuko mumbles.
“Hey, Uncle Zuko, what’s that in your hair?”
Zuko blinks, “what?”
“Your hair, you,” Lurik reaches out, and pulls at a few strands loose from Zuko’s topknot.
Zuko reels back, calmly reprimanding with an almost exhausted, “please, Lurik. Don’t-”
“Oooh,” Lurik laughs, “that’s just your hair, Uncle Zuko”.
“Yes. That was my hair,” Zuko replies blankly.
“Ha, ha, yea you got white ones like grandpa does”.
Zuko’s eyes snap back up, “wait, what?”
“Yea, right there,” Lurik points at the crown of Zuko’s forehead, “you have white hair like grandpa. Only, not so much. Just a little. But that’s cool. Is that like a thing you have to have when you’re like the boss of a bunch of people? Because my grandpa’s the chief and my dad tells me that-”
The boy’s ramble is cut off with a series of quick successive rapts upon Zuko’s office door. It catches the pair’s attention; Zuko calls out for the guest to enter, and so she does. Katara burst in, quickly scampering towards them whilst remarking, “Lurik, please don’t bother Uncle Zuko, you know he’s busy-”
“I’m not bothering him, Auntie Katara!” Lurik shoots back, folding his arms over his chest.
Katara glances sideways towards Zuko, who gives an almost imperceptible look and nod to convey, “actually, this brat is bothering me a lot, please take him away”.
Katara stifles a grin, “you know Lurik, in the kitchens I saw them bringing in some new seal-jerky flavours-”
“Wait, really!” Lurik exclaims, jumping off his perch that was the Fire Lord’s desk, and rushing up to his Aunt’s side. He grabs Katara’s arm, and beckons for them to take their leave now.
Katara chuckles softly, and turns to look over her shoulder to say goodbye to Zuko, and to mouth a “sorry”. Not that Zuko would hold the petulance of Lurik against Katara. No, that honour would remain squarely on the shoulders of the boy’s parents.
“Hey do you want us to bring you back some?” Lurik asks, still dragging Katara by the arm, “seal jerky is yummy”.
Zuko shakes his head, “that alright, Lurik. You go enjoy yourself”.
.
.
Zuko glances at his reflection in the mirror. Lo and behold, Lurik wasn’t lying. He can see it; three white strands. Right there, near the crown of his forehead.
How could this have happened?
Was he really that stressed? No, it couldn’t be. He was fine. This wasn’t like his early days into his reign, stress from his job just rolled off him now.
And yet, here he stood, a few weeks after his twenty-ninth birthday and already with three grey hairs as a belated present from the spirits themselves.
He finds Katara practising her waterbending down by the private beach of the palace. Seldom used, except for when his friends came to visit. She notices him immediately as Zuko approaches. Clad only in her wraps, she emerges from the water, and Zuko trains himself to look at her eyes. Only her eyes.
She smiles sweetly at him. Greets him with a soft kiss to the cheek, and Zuko confesses his predicament: the ageing spirit has cursed him with misfortune.
Katara quirks a brow, “you’re so strange, Zuko”.
“Look, look,” he points at his hair, “do you see it?”
She narrows her gaze, and stares at his forehead, “huh?”
“There, the hair”.
“Your hair?”
“It’s white”.
“It is?”
“Katara, don’t you see it?”
“Um,” she blinks, then her eyes brighten, “oh yea, actually I do see it”.
“Argh, no,” he smacks his hand upon his face, “I’m old”.
Katara rolls her eyes, “yes, Zuko. You, and only you, are ageing”.
“Be serious, Katara,” Zuko scowls, “by next year I’ll probably look like my uncle”.
“You will not,” Katara laughs, succumbing to the humour of Zuko’s growing temper tantrum as she is unable to stop her giggles.
Zuko playfully pinches her cheek, “stop laughing”.
“Stop being so goofy, then”.
“I’m not,” Zuko replies, “urgh, I can’t believe I got grey’s before I hit thirty”.
“Oh don’t worry, Zuko,” Katara replies, her words still underpinned by her giggles, “ladies love a man with a few salt and peppers”.
“Not at this age!”
“Some will,” Katara replies, smiling sympathetically. “I personally think it makes you look quite distinguished”.
Zuko narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me”.
“I’m not,” Katara laughs.
“You always do this”.
“What!”
“This is like that time at the peace summit held in the Air Temples, when I wore that robe to try and show my respect to Aang and the Air Nomad culture”.
Katara throws him a look, “what? What does that have to do with anything?”
“You mocked me for my appearance then too”.
“What? How?”
“When you saw me in that robe. I know I looked stupid. No one had to tell me. I knew it, but then you said I looked sexy-”
“You did,” Katara laughs, “your chest was on view, and so were your whole arms-”
“Stop making fun of me, Katara,” Zuko remarks exasperatedly, “I looked like an idiot”.
“You didn’t-”
“And now, I’m going from idiot to old man before I hit thirty. Just great”
Katara rolls her eyes, “oh, Zuko”.
.
.
As frequent as Katara’s visits to the Fire Nation were, Zuko never found the stays long enough. There were times when her stays would span several months, once a whole year, when she’d been occupied with projects. Medical and education reforms, the central renovation of the city’s aqueducts, even small cultural exchanges between the nations all helped bring Katara back to the shores of the Fire Nation.
Back to his company so that could steal her time to ask for her opinion on his speeches, or seek her view on his ideas for change, or ask for a favour of a less consequential manner – “you need a date again?”
“Not a date,” Zuko rolls his eyes, “just an, uh, escort?”
“Poor choice of words”.
Zuko puts down his scroll, “okay, fine. I suppose its kind of like a date,” Zuko shrugs, “I just need someone to accompany me for the dinner my council has suggested we throw to placate some of the rural Governors”.
“Oh, but Zuko,” Katara begins, giving him an almost sultry-glare with a teasing smirk of her lips, “if I accompany you for such a thing, again, wont the fine governors of the coastal towns think that my grand plan to steal the crown from you has begun in that very soiree?”
“Bet half of them would love the idea,” Zuko snorts.
“Oh really?” Katara playfully challenges, closing the tome she’d been translating, “they’d prefer a waterbender to take the throne?”
“Well, maybe not that part”.
“See”.
“I mean, they could probably look past that”.
“Don’t be silly. No they couldn’t”.
“But they do like you more than me. I mean, most people do. Remember last time, at the summer solstice?”
“Oh yea,” Katara grins, “you angered Nobleman Lifang”.
“And you helped smooth that over”.
“Are you planning to anger one of your governors this time or something, Zuko?”
Zuko chuckles, “always best to be prepared”.
“You know one of these days, your council is going to insist that you actually bring a girl that you’re dating to these events. You know, like you’re supposed to”.
Zuko smirks, and reaches for a slice of mango, “you say that like my council aren’t now actively requesting I always ask you to escort me to these functions”.
“Are they?”
“They are,” he smiles.
Katara scoffs, “well, that’s weird”.
“You, and I quote, ‘present a good image for the Fire Nation on international level’ – uh, end quote”.
“That and you always seem to mix up the Liu Brothers from Omashu when the Fire Nation hosts the industry meetings”.
“They’re literally identical twins!”
“Or you misremembered the Northern Tribes recent amended trade agreement”.
“Okay, but there were several, so…”
“Or that time with the goat-sheep, and that travelling circus”.
Zuko grimaces, “don’t remind me”.
“Well I think the point is that I do have to remind you,” Katara steals the last mango slice that Zuko had been eyeing; dammit.
“I don’t need to remember these things though,” Zuko shrugs, leaning back, “because I have you, and you seem to be completely on top of things”.
“But you’re not always going to have me,” Katara smiles, popping the mango slice in her mouth.
Zuko shrugs, “we’ll see”.
.
.
Dinner that night is not expected to be eventful; Aang has stated that he plans to return to the Air Temples tomorrow, Toph to the Earth Kingdom, and Sokka and Suki, with their children, back to the South Pole. The dinner is only supposed to be a light affair amongst friends – however Lurik has other ideas.
“Auntie Katara, what do you mean you’re not coming with us!” the young child exclaims, then proceeds to stand up on his chair to stomp his feet.
Sokka immediately reprimands his son, urging him to sit down and remember his inside voice. Suki looks on, exhausted, as she attempts to feed their youngest; three year old Miki, who is not happy with her specially prepared children’s meal.
Katara says to Lurik in a soothing tone, “Lurik, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I just have a few matters here to attend to-”
“Like what!” Lurik pouts, swatting away his father’s hands as Sokka tries to force Lurik to sit back down.
“Well,” Katara says, “the Fire Lord needs some help with an upcoming event-”
“Uncle Zuko!” Lurik’s attention swivels and directs straight to the nation’s leader who has a spoonful of soup hovering just near his lips.
Zuko puts his spoon down, “yes Lurik?”
“You’re rich, why can’t you buy someone else to help you instead of Auntie?”
“I’m not buying your aunt, Lurik,” Zuko remarks, biting down a smirk.
“Its just a favour for a friend,” Katara continues, “I will be back in the South Pole soon after”.
Sokka has appeared to give up trying to discipline Lurik, who at least is no longer stomping on his chair. Aang looks on nervously at the scene, whilst Toph merely continues to eat her meal as if no commotion is currently underway.
Zuko isn’t sure what to say to the young child. Sure, it was his fault that Katara was no longer planning to leave with her brother back to her home; but then again, he really rather just have her with him when he faces his governors during the upcoming dinner.
And maybe, selfishly, he just wanted her around a little longer.
“But you promised me that you’d teach me more waterbending,” Lurik pouts, his bottom lip wobbling.
“What?” Sokka begins, weariness in his tone, “Lurik, you’re not a waterbender”.
“So?” Lurik shoots back to his father, “that doesn’t mean I can’t waterbend”.
“That’s exactly what it means!”
“No it isn’t, dad!”
“Katara,” Sokka rounds onto his sister, “what is going on?”
Katara fights back a giggle, “sometimes on deck, I like to waterbend and Lurik joins me-”
“Yea, and I know all the moves,” Lurik exclaims happily, “and when I do it, the water moves”.
“That’s your aunt moving it,” Sokka exclaims.
“And me!” Lurik exuberantly declares.
“No,” Sokka stresses out, “Lurik, you’re not a waterbender”.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t bend water”.
Sokka groans, and buries his face in his hands. Suki beside him sighs, remarking quietly for just her husband to hear, “he gets this from you”.
.
.
His relationship with Mai ended before his twenty-first birthday. Zuko imagines the nation believed that the Fire Nation beauty would one day occupy the role of Fire Lady. But that did not turn out to be the case.
The years following, Zuko saw a few women here and there, some did span enough time that his council assumed he had begun thinking of them seriously, but inevitably, they ended up not going anywhere. He wonders now, when had his council started to give up. Maybe they resigned to the possibility of the royal line ending with him; maybe they’d begun searching for a distant branch from his great-great-grandfathers side that could take up the mantle after he’d gone.
In any case. Zuko didn’t care anymore. In fact, no one seemed to.
Twenty-six was the last time any of them brought this up directly with him; his lack of a wife and heir.
Well – almost, “there were a couple of new ladies at the Onagokai today,” Katara tells him one evening, as she sits beside him upon his office armchairs, absentmindedly tracing her fingers upon Zuko’s legs that are propped upon her lap.
Zuko hums noncommittally, and Katara remarks that they asked a lot about him. That perhaps they are already quite smitten with him, despite never meeting. And that they had bombarded Katara with questions during the Onagokai. Which prompts Zuko to ask, “you still hosting them?”
Katara sighs softly, “Minister Quien asked me to host it again for this year, since I’m staying again during the traditional time that they’re usually put on”.
“I told her she can’t keep pestering you about that. That’s not your role”.
“Well, its no ones role,” Katara shrugs, she makes another pattern on his ankle. Last year Zuko had picked up that Katara writes upon his skin, letters from the Water Tribe. A dialect known by few. He had tried to start learning the language in secret, but he still cannot decipher what message her fingers write.
“So why does she keep pushing it,” Zuko asks, leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling
“You know why,” Katara smiles.
“I’m sorry that you-”
“Don’t apologise, Zuko,” Katara draws another letter; Zuko knows this one, she write the word ‘you’.
“She makes you host these asinine brunches-”
“You’re talking like I hate them, or something,” Katara giggles, “honestly, they’re a fun little distraction”.
“You don’t,” he pauses, considering, “they don’t bother you?”
“I’m just organising a little tea time for a bunch of the noblewoman of Caldera. That’s hardly a great issue for me”.
Zuko grins, remarking softly, “it doesn’t bother you”. He says this only for himself. In a way. But Katara still replies with a soft hum.
.
.
The Onagokai is a yearly brunch that is used to foster good relations between the Royal crown and the nobles of the Fire Nation. Succinctly: the Fire Lady hosts a brunch and the wife’s of the wealthy nobles come and attend. But there is no Fire Lady. There has not been one since his grandmother’s time.
But Minister Quien had insisted this would quell certain animosity that was building years ago. It did work; tensions eased. But there is no Fire Lady; simply, Katara had graciously accepted the offer to step in.
Zuko had been twenty-six when this had happened.
Of course, Katara had already been doing him favours before that. She’d attended dinners and balls and peace summits with him. Perhaps it seemed strange, that after all these years, Zuko preferred to take a dear friend in place of a spot usually reserved for his future wife.
And maybe he didn’t care anymore.
It was simpler this way. Easier.
.
.
The Governors, as Zuko had predicted, are far more amenable to Katara when she speaks to them about understanding their grievances, or admiring their tenacity of character, or just simply partaking in idle chat. Somehow, despite his upbringing, Zuko will relent that Katara appears far more natural at this; networking and mingling.
He simply tires of it quickly.
She does well to pick up the pieces.
For a brief moment, when drinks have been flowing long enough that even the most stubborn Governor finds himself moving his feet on the dance floor, Zuko and Katara sneak out onto the balcony adjacent to the grand hall.
It is here, overlooking the city lights, breathing in the salty night sky, that Katara accuses him of using her to avoid really partaking in any conversation. “I’m basically your socialisation shield,” she remarks with a raised brow; tone lilted with an underlying playfulness.
“A very pretty socialisation shield,” Zuko offers.
Her brows knit together, she replies, “you think sweet talking me is going to get you out of this?”
“Yes, I do”.
“Oh, really”.
“Really,” he says, turning to glance at her with a pointed look, “you’re blushing, so it is working”.
Katara blinks, and averts her gaze back to the lights of Caldera that paint a pattern for their view. Peripherally, he can see her expression lingering with a scowl, before relaxing to something more neutral.
He too looks back towards the city.
A moment passes. A quiet one. Then, Katara asks, “why do you say things like that?”
Without turning to look at her, Zuko asks, “like what?”
“Saying that I’m, you know…”
“What?”
“Pretty”.
Now he looks at her, “you are”.
A soft sigh escapes her lips. She turns to him slowly, “you’re so strange, Zuko”.
.
.
When Zuko was twenty-three, he received letters from Sokka saying that there was a man from the Northern Water Tribe that was obviously very sweet on Katara. Sokka had not been a fan of the guy, but Katara did like him so he’d begrudgingly accepted him whilst venting his frustrations to Zuko through ink and parchment.
At that point, Zuko hasn’t come to terms with the feeling of disgust that had begun to grow in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Katara dating some guy. He had eventually come to meet the man when he visited the South Pole during a diplomatic trip. He introduced himself a Evurk.
He was arrogant but charming. Confident and aloof. And handsome, so very handsome in a way Zuko knew he could never be.
In one of his lesser moment, Zuko had decided to tail Evurk to see if he could find any dirt on the guy. But alas, little showed up. In an even lesser moment, Zuko had challenged Evruk to what on the surface was a friendly spar. Zuko of course, won, but a bruised eye and a sprained ankle did his opponent fare.
Katara had been furious, asking why Zuko had taken things so far.
She’d calmed down the next day, after tending to Evruk the whole night.
Zuko had been far less than amiable to that fact, and when Katara asked why he felt the need to push things as far as he did during the spar, Zuko couldn’t help but blurt out how much he despised Evurk. He couldn’t justify it. And he was careful not to tread too close to breaching the topic of a certain little green monster that had begun to form in the pit of his stomach whenever even the thought of Katara and someone else would come up.
He had said how he couldn’t stand Evurk, and although as a friend he would always support Katara and her choice in partner, Zuko, personally, just couldn’t stand the guy.
Katara had been quiet throughout. Listening intently, eyes on her hands clasped in her lap. She takes her leave, muttering a soft, “thanks for being honest, Zuko”.
After a week, he arrives back to the Fire Nation. As he is disembarking from his airship, he receives a letter from Sokka, telling him that he was so happy to announce that Katara and Evruk had broken up.
That little green monster within him subsiding.
.
.
The next morning, for her passage back home, Katara is able to secure a spot on a merchants vessel that will stop briefly in two coastal towns before heading directly towards the South Water Tribe.
“You know I could just lend you an airship,” Zuko remarks, standing upon the pier to bid farewell to a friend; very unlike any previous Fire Lord before him.
Katara chuckles, “don’t trouble yourself. An airship just to ferry me back and forth from the Tribes is such a waste of resources”.
“You could just keep it docked there until you need it again”.
“When I need it again?”
Zuko shrugs, “for whenever you come back”.
“Ah, I see,” Katara grins, taking a step closer, “and what reason do I have to come back next time?”
Zuko frowns, amusement on his tone, “what do you mean?”
Katara studies his expression, her eyes strangely sombre, yet hidden well with a more noticeable mischievous nature. She replies, with a slight tilt of her head, “never mind”.
He had gotten used to the way his heart would thump incessantly whenever Katara was near. It would be something he’d denied in his teen years, something he’d tried to rid himself of in his early twenties, but something he’d simply grown accustomed to now nearing his thirties.
Thump – thump – “maybe I just want to see you again,” he blurts out.
Her footstep back falters. She freezes, but recovers quick enough to reply, “aw, that’s cute”.
He rolls his eyes, “maybe I just need someone to proofread my policies again too”.
“You literally have a team employed for that”.
“And they aren’t as good as you”.
She smirks, “if you say so”.
A boisterous call from the ship’s captain orders those on dock to board if they require passage, and he calls out to his deckhands to quicken their pace with loading the cargo they intend to deliver.
Katara smiles softly, almost sadly, “well, that’s my call”.
“Travel safe, Katara”.
She nods, but before she turns around to head up to the boarding plank, she asks him, “hey, I’ve been wanting to ask, but its a strange thing to ask but um, did pull out those grey hairs of yours?”
Zuko blinks, then his expression tightens, damn, didn’t think she’d notice, “uh...yea”.
“You did?” her eyes light up.
Annoyingly, she finds the information amusing. “I wasn’t going to just keep them”.
“You know they’ll just grow back, right?”
“We’ll see,” Zuko grumbles.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” she grins, then steps forward to place a quick kiss upon his cheek. She turns around and takes a couple of steps towards the ship, before turning around again to say, “in any case, if it makes you feel better, I thought you were still handsome. With or without the grey hairs”.
Zuko rolls his eyes, “I told you to stop mocking me”.
.
.
When he was twenty-five, he comes to learn that Katara has started dating someone new. A woman this time. From the Earth Kingdom, someone she’d met whilst further honing her medical prowess. The woman from the Earth Kingdom, named Illiya, studies medicine but only the traditional kind.
It is clear when Zuko meets her that she is enamoured with what Katara is capable of doing with her waterbending. And unfortunately for Zuko, unlike Evruk, Illiya was actually quite kind. And genuinely charming.
But that didn’t stop that green monster within him from rearing its ugly head once more. Like a long lost friend, Zuko greets and accepts it; but he is not as young and brash as he once was. He couldn’t just challenge Illiya to a spar and sulk until Katara had, almost seemingly, come to grant his wish for her to be rid of such a partner.
It wouldn’t be possible this time. And besides, he was older. And in theory, he should be wiser. Though his sister may profess to that being a debatable topic.
Nevertheless, Zuko had chose not to change his behaviour towards Katara. Their banter never subsided, their closeness never wavered. And he chose a more subtle approach this time. He simply asked for Katara’s time. To help with policy and legislation. To get her advice and opinion and sometimes, just to have her ear to wind down at the end of the day.
Katara gave her time to him willingly. With a smile and twinkle in her eye. And Illiya notices; he knew that she noticed; looks from she to him growing more cold, more sour.
He is somewhat ashamed to say now it almost surged him to keep campaigning for even more of Katara’s time.
In a moment of weakness, Zuko had come to accidentally eavesdrop on a conversation between Katara and Illiya, one pertaining to him – and he chose not to leave.
“He’s blatantly flirting with you,” Illiya had protested.
Katara had attempted to placate the notion. Stating that it was just the way Zuko was. And he didn’t mean anything by it. Illiya had countered that Zuko did not interact with everyone like that, just her. That it was obvious what his intentions were and it was strange that Katara didn’t notice.
Katara had replied, “if there were any intentions behind Zuko’s actions, we would be together. But we’re not. We’ve been like this for years. He doesn’t see me that way, I promise, there is nothing there”.
Zuko’s stomach had curled.
“You need to chose,” Illiya had replied with conviction, “Stop spending so much time with him. Stop playing this weird almost-wife role you seem to be playing. I’m planning to head back to the Earth Kingdom tomorrow, and I want you to be there. I want you to chose me”.
Zuko had decided then to take his leave. He couldn’t bare to hear her answer. He could only imagine the worst.
However, come the next day, Zuko finds Katara in his office reviewing the scrolls they’d not finished going over yesterday afternoon.
“Huh, to think I’d start the day before a firebender,” she’d coyly teased him.
His heart fluttered, his fears subsided. That vicious green monster within him becoming dormant once more.
.
.
Zuko sees Katara again in two months time in Ba Sing Se. Trade negotiations, held in the walled city. She arrives with the Southern Water Tribe as an envoy for her father who is unable to attend himself. Aang attends for the Air Nation, obviously, and a man by the name of Ren stands in place for the Earth Kingdom, as the Earth King is tending to, ‘matters of another great importance’.
“I think he was just lazy to come to these things,” Aang tells him during the welcome ceremony for the event itself.
“I’m lazy to come to these things too,” Zuko replies, “still do though”.
“I think Katara’s dad even pulled off the same trick. Sent her instead”.
“I heard he had fallen ill, that’s all”.
“Hakoda, getting ill?”
“Its what she told me”.
“Oh, you already met Katara here?”
“She told me via letter”.
“Ah”.
Unlike the actual negotiations themselves, the welcome ceremony invites any and all of the elite circle to attend. A room full of many walks of life, Aang had jovially remarked – A room full of pompous hot air, is what Zuko had internally surmised himself.
Several faces he faintly recognise. But many more he doesn’t. He wishes he could find Katara now, she was always better at remembering people than he was.
“Oh, wow. Look how big she’s gotten,” Aang breaths out, staring into the crowd.
Zuko follows the airbender’s line of sight. His eyes fall onto a couple: Mai and her husband. Propped upon her hip, Mai holds a little girl who sucks her thumb. A little girl with dark hair like her mothers, and green eyes like her father.
“Last time we saw little Izumi, she was just a baby, wasn’t she, Zuko?” Aang laughs softly.
Zuko shakes his head, “Mai visited Azula a month ago with Izumi. I saw her then, at the palace”.
“Must be weird, huh?” Aang smiles, a little wearily, “seeing that”.
“Seeing what?”
“You know,” Aang shrugs, “I mean, I guess that’s how life goes. But it does feel a little strange, huh?”
Zuko throws the airbender a perplexed look, “Aang, I have no idea what you’re talking about?”
Aang replies, “I mean like, if I saw Katara with another guy, already with a child. I’d be fine with it, my feelings for her ended a while ago but, I dunno, it would still be kinda weird. Seeing my first love married and with a kid-”
“Mai isn’t my first love,” Zuko tonelessly replies.
Aang blinks, “she wasn’t?”
“No”.
“But you guys dated for years”.
“She was my first girlfriend, sure”.
Aang pauses, digesting the meaning behind the words, “oh, that’s cold, Zuko”.
Zuko splutters, forehead creasing, “what? No, its not like-”
“You cared for her at least, right?”
“Of course,” Zuko breaths, “that goes without saying. I still care for Mai”.
Aang chuckles, “but you didn’t love her? That’s hard to believe if you dated for that long. If Katara and I dated for as long as you and Mai did, heck – if we even dated, I don’t think there ever would have been a chance I could let her go. I’d need her to breath at that point, you know? But geeze, Sift Hotman, if even that didn’t get you to fall in love, huh, if even that doesn’t work...”
Zuko’s jaw tightens, “I’ve been in love, just not with Mai”.
“Wait, really?”
“Really”.
“When was this?”
He pauses, and decides to reply somewhat flippantly, “yesterday”.
Aang scoffs, “okay, fine. Be like that, then”.
.
.
Aang and Zuko find Katara when proper meals begin to get served. Zuko sits on one side of Katara, whilst Aang takes the other. Immediately, the waterbender and firebender fall into their subconscious routine of trading subtle, playful barbs, and stealing bits of food from each other’s plate.
Aang beside them seems to tire of whatever he sees rather quickly, and engrosses himself instead with a conversation with to the man on his right; a retired general from the Earth Kingdom. Zuko and Katara don’t appear to notice.
At one point, Zuko props his arm on the back of Katara’s chair, and leans in to whisper to her, “do you see Governor Yun?”
Katara raises a curious brow, and glances sideways to the Governor in question. All around the face of Governor Yun is a smear of sauces from the komodo-chicken he’d been eating. Somehow, this grown man is an even messier eater than Lurik.
“Should we tell him?” Katara whispers back, the corner of her lips tugging up.
“You want to embarrass a grown man in public like that?”
“You seem to be able to handle it fine”.
Zuko chuckles softly, “when have you embarrassed me in public?”
“What about that showcase spar a few months back?”
Oh, he remembers that well. As Fire Lord, he felt the need to ensure victory before his audience of new military recruits. But at the conclusion of the spar, with Katara pinning him to the grounds, straddling his hips whilst calling for him to yield, Zuko throws out caring about winning – he just wanted to remember the image before him, Katara on his lap, looking down at him with a victorious smirk.
That, after all, would be the closest he’d ever get to a particular dream of his about something very similar – sans perhaps clothing and an audience.
And sure, when pinned, he’d been an awkward, stuttering mess. But how could he not be. Every minor shift of her hips had threatened for her to potentially feel a particular hardness between his legs.
Had she felt it?
Had she felt it and not said anything?
“You didn’t embarrass me,” Zuko replies back.
“I didn’t?” she replies sardonically.
Perhaps he was embarrassed, but he wasn’t going to admit that, “what would I have been embarrassed about?”
“You lost, Fire Lord”.
“No shame in that,” Zuko shrugs, “not when my loss comes with a pretty girl straddling my lap”.
Katara chokes on her sip of water, “Zuko”.
He chuckles; oh how the tables have flipped this time. But really, Katara’s blushing is far tempting a thing to see for him to not try and provoke.
.
.
A little while later, when Katara excuses herself to go to the ladies room. Aang peers over his shoulder, past Katara’s now vacant seat, to glare with an almost disinterested look. Zuko, bemused, mouths to Aang what his problem is.
Aang sighs, and replies quietly over the still loud chatter of the rest of dinner party, “you guys just have a weird definition of friendship, which, okay, me and Sokka and everyone have been used to for, what, a decade now? But, I dunno, Zuko, feels like you two have upped the stakes a little recently”.
“What are you talking about?”
The airbender snickers, “you don’t even notice, do you?”
“Notice what?”
“Oh. Huh. You really don’t notice it”.
Zuko narrows his gaze, “what are we doing wrong?”
“Not me and you-”
“I know you mean Katara and I”.
Aang opens his mouth as if to reply. But pauses first, and exhales, “lets just say, seeing you two, all those years ago, was the reason I knew”.
“Knew what?”
“Nothing,” Aang replies solemnly.
.
.
After dinner, Aang, Katara, and Zuko, migrate to a vacant little garden nook close by to the banquet hall. Though Aang chooses not to drink with the other two who have snuck a bottle of Omashu mead from the hall, the airbender is still lighthearted and chuckling amongst his two friends that are starting to succumb to the liquor.
Zuko, trying to the best of his ability, attempts to braid Katara’s hair. Katara giggles at his terrible attempts; Zuko undoing and redoing the braid with a growing frustration.
Aang finds the scene utterly amusing, “why are you so determined to do this, Zuko?”
“Because I know I can do this,” Zuko bites out, sticking his tongue out slightly in concentration.
Katara sits cross-legged upon the ground, between Zuko’s open legs. She grins from ear to ear, whilst offering encouragements to Zuko as he begins his fourth attempt to braid her hair.
Aang sighs with a shake of his head, “why are you so bad at this?”
“I’m not,” Zuko retorts, “its just, it has to look perfect if its for Katara”.
Katara blinks, turning her head back slightly, “why does it have to be perfect?”
“Because you’re perfect,” Zuko replies so matter-of-factly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“You think I’m perfect?” Katara blushes, smiling coyly.
“You obviously are,” Zuko grins.
“Really?”
“Really”.
“Really, really?”
“Really, really”.
Aang clears his throat, “um, you guys, I’m still here...are you going to, you know, be weird again like you normally are?”
The pair turn with matching confused looks to stare up at Aang.
The airbender sighs, “yea, makes sense you’d two be even worse when drunk”.
.
.
The next day is a free day before the actual trade negotiations properly begin. Zuko theorises its because each time this happens, many involved with the negotiations get too drunk the night before. Case in point, Zuko himself.
He wakes alone on the floor of the guest bedroom he is staying in; tongue bone dry and a headache to accompany. By the time he has freshened up, Aang has come to fetch him for breakfast. “I figured it be best to let you sleep in for a bit,” Aang offers sympathetically.
Zuko is caught between annoyance and gratefulness for Aang’s consideration. “Where’s Katara?” he asks.
“Down by the fountain,” Aang replies, “a couple of people are. I think we’re all just waiting for the breakfast buffet. Its being held really late today for some reason”.
Zuko rolls his eyes, “because we all have hangovers, Aang”.
“Not me!” Aang jovially remarks
“Good for you,” Zuko replies with a sarcastic tone.
In the courtyard with a fountain, several groups congregate outside the large black and green jewel encrusted doors. When they swing open, they’ll all head inside. But for now, they remain closed.
Katara is sitting alone upon a stone bench by the fountain. She subtly moves her hand; the water of the fountain rippling almost imperceptibly.
There are several people around that Zuko doesn’t know, or cannot remember. But he does see Mai, her husband, and their child spending some time together in the corner of the courtyard.
Aang and Zuko begin to head towards Katara, but someone calls out to Aang and the young Avatar hesitantly obliges the beckoning. He sheepishly replies that he’ll catch up with them soon, but deep down, Zuko rather Aang didn’t.
When Zuko sits down next to Katara, she turns to smile at him, still bending the fountain water with an almost elegant laziness. She greets him with a sweet good morning; a tone that ensures his heartbeat continues its incessant pace. But he is used to it. He’d gotten used to it.
“So, um, Mai approached me early this morning,” Katara quietly says to him.
Zuko hums in consideration, “that’s...unexpected”.
“Is it?”
“I never figured you two as friends”.
“Well, we’re not really”.
“Okay,” he pauses, “but she approached you?”
“She...yes,” her expression flickers with a slight hesitation, “maybe...maybe, I shouldn’t bring this up”.
Zuko sits up a little straighter, “did she say something to you?”
“Sort of”.
“Katara”.
“Its nothing scandalous, Zuko. Relax,” she softly laughs.
He doesn’t entirely believe her, “what did she say?”
Katara lets out a small exhale, and turns to stare back at the fountain, “she said we were a little too much at the dinner last night”.
“Us?”
“Yes”.
“What is she, the authority on-”
“You know she’s just straightforward like that”.
“She should just mind her own business,” Zuko snaps, “everyone else was. Why was she so fixed on observing us?”
“She is sort of right though, isn’t she?” Katara interjects, brows partially creased, “we were, um, flirting a lot”.
Zuko quirks a brow, “flirting?”
She purses her lips, “well, what would you call it?”
“I don’t know. We’re just,” he pauses, “we’re just, nothing”.
A hollow laugh escapes Katara, “nothing?”
“No, not nothing,” Zuko quickly replies, “not nothing. I didn’t mean that. I mean, we’re just, you know…”
Her blue eyes, that gaze, could pierce his heart and he’d just let it happen. Zuko knows he would.
Katara swallows, “do I know?”
The large doors black and green jewel encrusted doors open with loud creak, and a vibrating scrape along the concrete floor. An attendant steps forth, and calls those waiting to head inside for breakfast.
.
.
Their conversation had left off in an awkward place, but before Zuko can begin to spiral and fret that he’d finally crossed the line with Katara, that this perfect thing he had with her was finally starting to show its cracks, Katara pops a blueberry in his mouth, and jokes that she can see another grey hair growing at the top of his head.
Zuko pales, and swallows the blueberry, “wait, really?”
Katara giggles, “I’m just kidding”.
Zuko releases a breath he’d not realised he’d been holding.
Katara notices, “wait, did the thought of getting more greys worry you that much?”
Of course, it wasn’t that he was worried about. But he still lies, “I’m not even thirty, I can’t get grey hairs already”.
.
.
The whole event in itself lasts a little over a week. Zuko’s mind is frazzled with estimates, and verbal tactics, and sleazy politics. Even his ministers, even the ones that thrive in such an environment, are drained by the end. On the eve of the last day of the negotiations, once all scrolls have been finalised with all required signatures, and all handshakes have been accounted for, Zuko and Katara decide to sneak out and find somewhere in the city that allows them to get their mind of their roles and responsibilities.
They find a tea house, and Zuko pays extra for them to get a private room. Jasmine tea and pastries are ordered. Zuko leans his head onto Katara’s lap when he’s finished his tea, and Katara begins to draw her Water Tribe characters upon his arm as she slowly finishes hers.
Katara had at first suggested to invite Aang along as well, but the pair had caught him engrossed in a conversation with a pretty Earth Kingdom girl with short brown hair, and light freckles from her face down to her arms.
“Did you see the way Aang was looking at her,” Katara giggles, “I’ve not seen him look that way at another girl for so long”.
“The last time was probably you”.
“Oh, no it wasn’t”.
“I think it was,” Zuko grins, “back when the war just ended”.
“Before the war too”.
“Yea, he held a candle for you for years”.
Katara hums softly, and draws another character on his arm. Zuko had learned a more of the language since last time. He now has a fairly confident idea on what Katara writes.
“Zuko,” Katara slowly begins, “something odd happened to me earlier today”.
“What happened?” he asks.
“One of your ministers approached me”.
“My ministers?”
“Minster Thei”.
“What did he want?” Zuko grins, knowing for sure that his minister would ask for something frivolous.
“He asked me, or rather, offered if I’d be interested to start seeing the royal tailor the next time I was in the Fire Nation”.
His eyes flicked up to catch her gaze, “huh? The royal tailor”.
“Yea,” Katara says, “apparently, they’ve been planning a whole portfolio for a couple of years now, and according to Minister Thei, they’re getting a little restless. They just want me to see it now”.
“See what?”
“Well, I guess their portfolio”.
He joins the dots in his mind, “they’ve been working on a wardrobe specifically for you?”
“I don’t know,” Katara shrugs, “I mean, your minister seems to imply it but I don’t understand. Why would they do that?”
Zuko pauses briefly, “I say its a win, free clothes. And I’d be happy to pay for it”.
“Zuko”.
“I’m sure its not really a wardrobe for the South Pole, but for when you attend functions and parties with me, you could just wear one of those dresses and-”
“Shouldn’t this be something for your future wife, Zuko?”
There is a slight barb in her words that he notices, so he replies carefully, “technically...yes”.
“Technically?”.
“I mean,” he hesitates, “its a traditional, um, thing, that a royal wardrobe be designed and made specifically for the Fire Lady”.
“Which I’m not”.
He can feel the proverbial ground beneath him morph into thin ice, “you already do what they expect of the Fire Lady. Probably more, since you help me with policies, and attend parties where we strike up additional deals and connections-”
“So this is just a thanks for doing all that? These dresses, this new wardrobe?” she stops writing on his arms.
He swallows, “if you want to see it that way”.
“What way should I see it?”
He takes a breath, and lifts himself off her lap. Her eyes reflect a soft longing, almost sadness, which is the last thing Zuko would ever want to see on her. And even more so, ever want to be the cause of.
But he knows he is.
“Zuko,” she begins quietly, “is the...is the reason you don’t have a wife, because you don’t need one? Because...because I do all of-” she catches her words, and frowns.
And he just cannot lie, not now, not to her, “yea I...I guess so”.
Her expression crumbles, and Zuko’s heart drops. He immediately reaches out to cup her cheek, spilling out an apology that its cut off before he can finish when she says to him; stiff lip, eyes squinting to stop any tears that threaten to spill; she carefully pulls his hand away from her face, “Zuko, its fine its just, don't worry, I don’t even know why I’m, urgh,” she exhales, “I’m a mess”.
“You’re not”.
“I am,” Katara bites her bottom lip.
“Katara, I-” he knows he can’t lie to her; but he also thought she knew as well. Knew, but like him, didn’t want to go any further in fear of it not working. In fear of it going wrong like so much in his life had gone wrong before.
Because what they had between them is perfectly imperfect. She is here. So is he. And he could resign to flirt and pine for the rest of his life because it was always the safer option. There wouldn’t be something to break if they never started. He just always wanted her around. He needed her as his partner – and in a way, she was already this for so many years now.
But he didn’t want to risk it. Not with her.
But was not trying just as risky?
Could his mind even rationalise something so good and all-consuming happening to him? And he’d just get to stay that happy? The universe wont try and play some cruel trick on him?
“Zuko,” Katara breaths out, “please can you,” she frowns, eyes sombre, “please can you just, reject me”.
His eyes widen; constricting to her gaze, “what?”
“I just need you to-”
“Katara, I can’t”.
“Zuko, I need to move on from whatever this is. Whatever we’ve been doing for, I can’t even keep track of how many years-”
“Katara-”
“I’ll still be there,” she smiles through her sadness, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll still be your friend and I’ll still help you in the exact same way as I’ve always been doing but I just need to mentally get over this nagging desire I have for – for years and years – and I think if you reject me, it’ll help-”
“No, Katara, I really can’t”.
Her laugh comes muddled with a choked sob, “what do you mean you can’t?”
If his heartbeats were distracting before, Zuko would swear in this moment, all the occupants in the tea house could surely hear the rhythmic thumping vibrating through the floor. Zuko inhales, and slowly exhales. He shuffles closer to her form, and tentatively grabs her left leg, stretching it out upon his lap. Katara watches with a silent curiosity.
He lifts his finger, and begins to trace characters of the Southern Water Tribe’s dialect upon her skin. He watches peripherally as the realisation of what he writes dawns upon the waterbender.
When he is done, he looks up to her to see her staring back with a sort of shocked hopefulness.
He can’t help but smile. His heart had never felt so full. “You’re always writing love letters to me,” he says, softly, “I think its time I write you one back”.
He watches her process. He watches her disbelieve, then start to believe, “you...can write in…”
“I learned the language for you”.
“You did,” she breaths out.
“I just wanted to know what you always wrote to me,” he pauses, “but I suppose, even if I never learned, I would still know that there was always something between us that-” he stops, unsure.
Unsure – unsure . That was always the problem. How could something so perfect last. How could he be sure of the unknown. And s o he tells her, of his fears and why he’d not pursued a relationship with her properly, like he’d wanted to, for over ten years now. How he just wanted to hold onto the safety of whatever bubbled between them because he could accept ‘good enough’ as long as she was by his side. And she technically was by his side. And it was always worth it. Just to spend even a few seconds with her when they could steal it, it was always worth it.
Katara listens. She smiles. Then, she scoots in closer still to cup his cheek and say to him, “don’t push yourself to do anything you don't want, Zuko”.
He shakes his head, “I do want this, Katara”.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she says, “I told you, even if you rejected me-”
“I’m literally doing the opposite of rejecting”.
“I know,” she smiles, “I just mean, from what you’ve told me. I don’t want you to just rush into this. I can wait, you know. I can wait for you as long as you need”.
He nods, and thanks her, and then says to her, “I rather you be there with me, instead of waiting”.
She throws him an impish grin, “done”.
.
.
Its terrible timing, Zuko thinks, when the next morning all parties from the trade negotiations are set to depart from Ba Sing Se. Including himself. Including Katara.
He meets her by the pier. His airship is docked further down from the water vessels; his minister’s had fussed on why he is delaying their departure but Zuko had insisted. He had to see her off after all.
They stand facing each other. Holding hands, fingers entwined.
Katara glances up coquettishly and asks, “is this weird?”
He squeezes her hand, “no, not even a little”.
“My heart feels so full,” she smiles, blushing like a teenager, “oh that was such a corny line. I just...I half believe this isn’t actually happening right now”.
“I must be pretty smooth then, all I had to do was hold your hand”.
“Shut up,” she playfully bites out.
Zuko chuckles, “I was thinking, maybe I should come down to see you. I could make up some political reason like-”
“Actually,” Katara smirks, cutting him off, “I was planning to come up to the Fire Nation. More, long term, if that’s okay?”
He blinks, “obviously that would be okay. But don’t play with me, Katara. Just hearing you say that gets me excited”.
“You’re so strange,” she laughs.
“So you were just playing with me”.
“No, I’m serious,” she quickly replies through her grin, “I want to...well, I want to give us the best shot, Zuko. I want to give this my all”.
Anxiety subsiding; thoughts and fears of all those years feel like nothing now. So insignificant – so unneeded, “thank you,” Zuko breaths out, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. His eyes flutter shut. He breaths in her scent.
“Zuko,” she whispers, “anyone could see us”.
Without opening his eyes, a smirk playing at his lips, Zuko replies, “yea, that’s the point”.
.
.
It takes Katara a month after Ba Sing Se to arrive back to the Fire Nation. Zuko greets her with a warm embrace that goes on just a little too long for simply ‘just friends ’. But then again, maybe they never were ‘ just friends’, and far be it that anyone around them even notice a change in their relationship dynamic.
For Zuko had always been overly affectionate towards Katara. And vice versa. Flirting, teasing, call it whatever you want, but a build up of over a decade of this behaviour had cemented their exchanges as just normal for them; that’s just how they interacted as friends.
Even when they walk back to the palace, her hand in his, no one appears to bat an eye.
Zuko remarks to this notion, quietly just for her, leaning in close as he speaks.
Katara notices too, “maybe holding hands isn’t as scandalous as we thought”.
He then asks her what she said to her brother and father regarding her planned longer-than-usual stay in the Fire Nation. Katara replies that she started off by telling them she needed to be in the Fire Nation, but then they just waved her off before she could explain any further. Almost like the news for a longer stay just wasn’t that surprising to them.
“Maybe we’re not a surprise to anyone,” Zuko says.
“Or maybe no one expects that there will be a we, so I’m really just here to help a friend who hates reviewing policies and budgets”.
Zuko smirks, “well, it was certainly easier than expected to whisk you away, huh”.
“Don’t speak too soon,” Katara grins, “Lurik was pretty unhappy to lose his ‘waterbending’ teacher”.
Zuko breaths out a chuckle.
When they are back at the palace, Zuko’s minister immediately rush to the pair. But to the surprise of just Katara, not Zuko, his ministers vie for her attention, not that of the Fire Lord. There is a piece of legislation that his Minister of Health and her advisers would like her opinion on. Then there is a brief that his Agricultural Minister would like her to review, primarily due to her knowledge of travelling through such areas more so than he. The royal archivists request her time as well for some new translations they’d found. And of course, the royal tailor makes their way to the front to demand a fitting as soon as she has the time.
Which given Katara’s sudden busy schedule, that can’t be determined so easily.
At first, Zuko attempts to fend off the bombardment of requests, but Katara waves him off and says that she’s fine with it, and that she usually helps anyway.
Of course, helping in this case leads to Zuko not being able to see her until the evening arrives. With the moon hanging high, perched against the stars in the sky. Katara finds him gazing upwards upon from his balcony.
She announces her arrival with a quick pinch to his side, Zuko yelps in surprise.
And Katara begins to laugh.
“You caught me off-guard,” Zuko protests, playfully poking her cheek.
Katara tries to stifle her giggles, but with little success. She comes to tell him, eventually, of her day and how she couldn’t even slot in time to visit the archivists or the tailor. Zuko mumbles out his day consistent of barely leaving his office. As he speak, he slowly drags Katara to nestled against him; he cocoons her form in a way that they can both look over the balcony.
He props his chin against her shoulder, and closes his eyes.
Katara whispers, “Zuko, are you falling asleep?”
He mumbles out a soft, “maybe”.
He can’t see it, but he knows that she rolls her eyes. “Its my first day back and you’re already sleepy?”
“I’m old, Katara”.
“You are not”.
“Well, I’m tired”.
“Okay, that I can understand”.
“And, I’ve been thinking all day about how I’m supposed to date you, but I don’t know how”.
Her form stiffens against his and Zuko takes the opportunity to cuddle her closer, and place a chaste kiss against her neck. He murmurs to her quietly, “don’t misunderstand, Katara. Don’t”.
Her teeth gently pinch her bottom lip, “I suppose I sort of know what you mean”.
“Right?”
“Because what are we suppose to do now? Go out to the city? Visit the markets? See a play, or um, a festival?”
“We’ve already done all that,” Zuko remarks, “that’s the problem”.
She turns in his arms to face him, “is it a problem?”
“Well, I don’t have any moves left”.
“Moves?” she laughs.
“Yea,” he says, “we did all the dating part of our relationship as friends. How do I woo you, Katara?”
“You don’t need to woo me,” she continues to laugh, “I’ve been successfully wooed”.
“I’ve succeeded in wooing?”
“Well, have you not got me up to your bedroom late at night?”
“You came here by yourself, it doesn’t count”.
“Oh, shall I take my leave then?” she teases, slipping out of his arms and only getting a few steps away before Zuko catches her wrist and brings her back to his chest.
He kisses the top of her forehead, and Katara rests her cheek against his torso. Her giggling vibrates through his body. His blood thrums in his veins, and he wonders if she can feel it. If she knows what her mere presence does to his senses.
“We did do it all as friends, didn’t we?” she says against his tunic, in a more subdued tone, “you even used to kiss me just like that”.
“I mean, we’re still friends though, aren’t we?” he says.
She leans off his chest, and gives him a thoughtful look, “I guess we are”.
“But we’re also partners,” he says, “confidants-”
“Lovers?” she coltishly offers.
Zuko drops his forehead to hers. His gaze captures hers and swears by seeing the world reflected back to him. And then he proceeds with what simply feels natural to him; he presses his lips against hers. Its a chaste, barely there kiss. But even with such a small gesture, his mind whirls into another gear.
Katara’s eyes flutter open, and she stares at him in a way he knows she’s never looked at anyone else. Through a smile, she says, “we’ve never done that as friends”.
“Yea, what a missed opportunity”.
She bites down a smile, “that wasn’t weird for you, was it?”
He shakes his head, “no. You?”
“No”.
“Should it be weird?”
“I don’t know,” she says, “I thought about this for a while. On the whole journey up here I thought how its been years and then now we’ve decided to change it, you know, between us”.
“Are we changing it?” Zuko carefully questions, “it feels like we’re just…”
“Just?”
“Just,” he ponders briefly, “just being honest now”.
She hums in thought, “are you saying you’ve always wanted to kiss me?”
“Has that not been obvious?”
“So you have?”
“Come on, Katara,” he smirks, “I’ve been flirting with you non-stop for over a decade now”.