River's Flame
Hi, I'm new here! Huge fan of Avatar, and of course, Zutara :) Here's a fic to introduce myself! It's long, and contains a variety of our favorite Zutara scenes. Canonish, even! I hope to get really into this community - I've heard of Zutara week but I don't know much about it. I also have a fanfiction account on the same username if anyone wants to check that out. Enjoy the fic, please tell me what you think :)
Words: 3324
Characters: Katara, Zuko
Time: Throughout the series
Genre: Romance
Rating: T, but just barely
Spoilers: I guess slight spoilers for the very end, and also about Katara's mother's murderer. But it's pretty vague.
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to whoever owns Avatar: The Last Airbender. Not me.
The first time he grabbed her hands, she felt a spark pass from his palms to her fingertips, a tingle coursing through her body. For a moment, she forgot that he had bound her into helplessness, stolen her treasured necklace, threatened her and her friends. She forgot even that he was the enemy.
She saw only his face, so close to hers, and his glittering golden eyes, full of stories and a past that she could only ever hope to understand. In the shadows, the deep red of his scar blended with the night, blackness melting into his face as if he were one with the darkness. Only the light of those vibrant eyes shone through. She thought - or perhaps imagined - that with the dark disappearance of his scar, she glimpsed the man he could have been if not for that taint in his past.
But a moment later, when his whispered threats echoed in her ears, she remembered, and her face hardened. He was her enemy, and she would do whatever was in her power to resist him.
.x.x.x.
There is always hope, Zuko thought. The words in his head sounded like his uncle’s. But now, seeing the young waterbending girl holding up the small, intricate vial, he heard her voice in his head, too. She believed in him. She thought that he could be redeemed. She could heal the evidence of his past.
Her fingertips barely brushed the cold, smooth, scarred skin on the left side of his face. Zuko could never remember anyone else touching his scar quite like that. She wasn’t scared; she wasn’t hesitant. She was concerned. After everything he had done to her, after all the times he had hurt her, now her heart was open before him, visible through the sincerity in her clear, honest gaze.
Could he forgive his past, his memories, the only life he had ever known? Could he forgive himself, for the wrongs he had committed at the whim of his foolish, empty pride? Only when he looked at her did the thought, the possibility, even cross his mind.
There was a crash, and both of them whipped around at the sight of the others entering their chamber. The moment was broken; Katara had left his side. Only once did she look back at him. The sadness in her face was painfully evident, and when she disappeared, the lack of her presence even more so.
But Zuko still felt her light touch on his face, wondering if he would ever feel something that kind and gentle again, even when he knew, all too well, that he did not deserve it.
.x.x.x.
The sky was dark and smooth, as deep navy blue as the ocean below them. Thin, overcast clouds obscured any vain glitters from the stars. Only a dim, mellow light guided them, the light of distant cities and the hidden moon.
Zuko watched the girl ahead of him as she sat straight, unmoving, and silent at Appa’s reins. But despite her strength, she had been flying for hours now; she had to be exhausted. Zuko, at least, had taken time to rest in the saddle on Appa’s back. But she had rested for even the briefest of moments since they left the others. All she could think about was vengeance. Finding and killing the man - the Fire Nation man - who had killed her mother.
A chilly breeze swept through her hair, making it twist and tangle behind her. Zuko found himself mesmerized by the tiny highlights that glittered within it. Appa yawned.
“Katara,” Zuko said suddenly. “You have to rest. I know how much you care about finding this beast. But you still need sleep.”
“I need to fly Appa.”
“I’ll do it. Get back here, Katara.”
For a long time, she didn’t speak, or even turn around to look at him. Then her shoulders dropped a little, and her hands loosened around Appa’s reins. She met his eyes bravely, her clear blue gaze a veritable storm of willpower. “Don’t order me around, Zuko. I have to do this.”
“I know you do. But you don’t have to do it tired and alone.”
She gazed at him long and hard, her eyes searching. For a moment, he caught a hint of despair in them, as if she was desperate to believe his words. Could she really distrust him so much? Was every effort at kindness destined to fail? Why was he so desperate for her to believe him, to trust him, to accept him?
At last, she closed her eyes, and her whole body relaxed. With a few murmured words to Appa, she crawled over to the saddle, sat next to Zuko, and leaned her head back into open air. He noticed that she left ample space between them. A large gust of wind swept through the air, and she shivered as the temperature dropped several degrees.
“Are you cold?” asked Zuko, watching her curl her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around them.
“No. Don’t start firebending. A light could give us away.”
“I know,” said Zuko. “How long can Appa fly without one of us up there?”
Katara shrugged, her eyes still closed. “A little bit. Not for too long.”
She was shivering again. She placed her head on her knees, hiding her face from him, her whole body trembling. Perhaps it was more than just shivers, but she was silent, so Zuko said nothing. But he didn’t like to see her so uncomfortable, so alone.
By an unfamiliar instinct, Zuko moved closer to her. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, bringing her close. He felt her tense at once. She was so cold compared to him, his body constantly warmed by the blood of a firebender in his veins, making her skin feel like ice against his. Briefly Zuko ran his hand through her tangled hair, smoothing out all the knots, then brushed a few stray strands away from her face. He used just enough of his bending power to heat his hand so that he could chase away her chills.
Though she barely moved her head, she managed to look up at him. Her cheek rested against his shoulder. Her eyes were cool, tired, and confused. “Someone’s got to fly Appa,” she mumbled.
“I’ll do it. In just a minute, after you’ve warmed up.”
“I’m warm.”
“Take a break, Katara. I’ll do it.”
All Zuko could hear in response was a quiet murmur, far too soft for him to make out the words. Before long, her head fell heavily from his shoulder to his chest. He could feel every steady, deep breath that she took, and she was so still, resting comfortably against Zuko’s body and in his arms. Her small figure felt precious yet strong, gentle yet powerful. In the soft light, her beautiful features were lightly shadowed. He was suddenly vividly aware of every place their bodies touched, from his arm around her shoulders, her lips so near his collar, her hands curled above his racing heart.
Appa gave another long yawn. Zuko nearly jumped at the noise, but stopped himself so he wouldn’t wake Katara after she had finally fallen asleep. Moving slowly and carefully, Zuko slid away from her, and placed her as carefully and comfortably as he could against the bare saddle. She looked so small, so lonely. Quickly Zuko tore off his jacket and folded it beneath her head for a pillow.
Once at Appa’s reins, he was left with nothing to do but contemplate, wondering why her happiness, her comfort, so intrigued him. He couldn’t stop himself from looking back at her so many times - but it was only to make sure she was still asleep.
.x.x.x.
Katara threw her hands down, releasing the man and giving him control of his body again. She turned and stormed away, the rain pounding down like icy daggers; she made no effort to stop it any longer. After a moment, she realized that Zuko was hurrying to catch up with her. He caught her shoulders and stopped her, both of them sliding a little bit in the slick mud. “Katara,” he said urgently, his piercing eyes flicking between each of hers. “What was that? What did you do?”
“It’s called bloodbending,” muttered Katara. She avoided his sharp gaze, staring instead at the dull ground. “An old witch showed me how to do it. But I swore I’d never use it. I only used it once before, to save Aang and Sokka. And now I used it just for my own selfishness. I had to cause that man pain.”
In her own voice, she could hear what she was trying so hard to suppress. But it was far too obvious. She spat rage and self-disgust with every word, furious at herself, at the situation, at everything. She had been too weak for revenge, and too angry for forgiveness, leaving her trapped and helpless, as helpless as she had been when she was that scared little girl in her dying tribe, so many years ago. Anguished, Katara pressed her hands to her forehead, as if she could force away all her spiraling thoughts.
A different hand suddenly touched her chin. Zuko tilted her face back up and grasped her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face so that their eyes met. Understanding glittered in his usually emotionless golden eyes.
“Don’t blame yourself,” he said, his voice low and rough like always. “You gave him what he deserved, and you used the strongest, cruelest that weapon you possess. A monster like him deserves no kindness and mercy.”
Katara nodded slowly. She didn’t know how long they stood there, so close together in the pouring rain, his hands still holding hers loosely by the wrists. At last, as one, they turned to head down the path again. It was so wet now that streams of muddy water pulled at their feet like a river. Neither spoke until they reached Appa again. Zuko extended a hand to help her into the saddle, and though she didn’t need the assistance, she took it.
“Thank you,” she murmured, unsure if he even heard.
He nodded.There was no need to speak any more. He understood, and that was enough.
.x.x.x.
Zuko saw Azula move as if the whole world had dropped into slow-motion. Her deranged eyes flashed from him to Katara, and her sick smile broadened. The crackling, silvery-blue lightning that flashed out of her fingertips shot - not towards him - but towards Katara.
Zuko had just enough time to see what Azula was about to do. Without thinking, without deciding, and without hesitating, Zuko ran, throwing himself in front of the stream of sparks. He had no time to prepare himself. The powerful blast caught him straight in the chest, paralyzing; violent pain shot through his veins and made his vision go black. He barely even felt himself fall to the ground.
But he could still hear the world around him, even if he couldn’t see. He heard Azula’s crazed laugh, high-pitched and out-of-control. But louder even than that, he heard Katara scream his name. Her voice, though loud and panicked, was still so comforting, so familiar. Zuko focused on her voice and thought of nothing else. He clung to consciousness, desperately imagining her face matched with her kind voice, the only thing that could continue to bind him to life.
Something was happening around him, something between Katara and Azula, but he ignored it. Katara’s voice was ringing in his ears. It was all that kept him going, all that kept him awake, all that kept him alive.
And then, suddenly, all the noise stopped. Blinded by pain, Zuko had no idea what was happening. Who had won? Who was still alive? If Katara had died - but no, he could not even imagine that, it was not possible -
But then he felt small hands against his aching chest. Katara’s hands. She spoke frantic words, saying his name again and again, and though he longed to comfort her, open his mouth and respond, he did not have the strength to do so. Suddenly, something cold and smooth poured from her touch. It was like falling into a pool of river water on a hot summer’s day, a relief from the suffocating sun that even a firebender disliked at times. The steady power, spread throughout his entire body, counteracting the pain, clearing his mind. His vision returned in blurry stages. He could see only her face, her bright blue eyes, wide and concerned above him. Her hands were still on his chest, but there was no more magic flowing from her fingertips.
“Zuko?” Her voice was intense and focused, but with a clear note of distress. “Zuko, talk to me. Please, Zuko!”
“Katara…” he mumbled. It was all he could manage. She grasped his hand tight, nodding encouragingly.
“It’s all over, Zuko,” she assured him quietly. “Azula’s defeated. You were right, she - she was crazy.”
Somehow, Zuko found the strength to nod. He felt Katara’s arms slide under his back and lift him in to a sitting position, which at once made his head throb violently. His chest, however, was no longer aching; Katara’s healing had obviously done its job there. Noticing him wince and place a hand to his forehead, Katara put her fingertips on his temples. More cool, watery healing soothed that pain, too.
“You - you’re all right?” Zuko breathed.
She nodded, her clear gaze bright. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. I used my waterbending to finish off Azula. She’s - she’s chained over there.”
But Zuko didn’t look yet. He didn’t want to. But with Katara’s help, he stood up, and the pair of them stumbled over to where Azula sat bound to a water-grate. Zuko watched as his sister panted and gasped, her eyes wide and flicking oddly from side to side. Her mouth moved as if she were trying to speak, but no logical words came out. She was clearly - finally - broken.
Beside him, Katara leaned her head hesitantly onto his shoulder, as if she were unsure whether or not he had the strength to support her. Zuko rubbed her arm bracingly. They stood there together, unmoving and silent, for quite some time, each grateful for the other’s presence as they lost themselves in thought.
“I’m sorry, Zuko,” Katara said softly. Turning his head, Zuko noticed that her eyes were closed. A single tear fell across her cheek. “I’m sorry… for everything you’ve had to go through.”
There was nothing he could say. Words were not enough between them now; there was no need. He simply nodded.
They didn’t move from that spot or speak again until the sun had sunk a farther towards the rocky horizon, casting a warm, red-orange glow across the whole palace courtyard. Eventually, Zuko remembered that they were needed - the war was not over yet. The Avatar needed them. But as he turned away from his sister, Katara turned with him, still supporting him as they walked together out of the gates.
.x.x.x.
It was their routine, their training, their practice, their entertainment. Without a war, life seemed so boring at times. No, there was still plenty to do, of course - but sometimes, Katara felt like her bending skills were suffering, especially her battle skills. So every afternoon, she met Zuko on the mountaintop, where a river began as a bubbling spring and the sun blazed hotly above them. It was like old times. Both of them wanted to keep in practice - and this was the only effective way. They had to actually battle.
Katara grinned at him, pulling water from the stream behind her and shaping it into a long, narrow blade. She threw it hard towards Zuko, like one of Sokka’s old boomerangs. It flew straight and fast, just like she intended, but Zuko was faster. He ducked and shot fire behind him as he turned, boiling her water-blade into sizzling steam at once. Then he spun and sent a flaming whip towards her, which Katara avoided by a mere fraction. She retaliated with a shower of sharpened ice. Zuko was forced to create a flaming shield, melting the ice until only a gentle patter of rain fell onto his head. Eventually, they were both flying, wordlessly sending attack after attack until their arms and their bodies were nothing more than a blur in front of the craggy landscape and setting sun.
The night was cooling, but Katara’s body was warmed by both Zuko’s flames swirling around her and the heat of her own movement. Her hair had flown out of its neat braid. Zuko, too, did not wear his palace garb when he fought; his hair hung loose and long around his face. When they drew close, Katara could see sweat on his face, and every now and then his golden eyes would flash. Katara doused him with a fountain of river water, but he used his fire to blow some of it back towards her as steam, soaking her too.
They drew closer and closer together as they danced with their bending, eventually stopping when they were mere inches apart. Drenched and panting, both of them froze, except for the heavy rising and fall of their chests. Katara stared into his narrowed, molten gaze, determined not to back down. Zuko suddenly grabbed her elbows and pulled her close. Their hearts beat together at the same rapid pace, their bodies pressed so tightly that Katara could barely breathe from the intensity.
Thoughts were useless now. The only thing left between them was action. It was Zuko who moved first, pinning her arms to her sides and kissing her with the sudden, uncontrollable heat of his element, his fire. His lips were strong, and he tasted like sweat and ash; Katara wondered vaguely how Zuko - the man she had hated for so long, who had almost killed her countless times, who had nearly destroyed the world’s only chance at survival - could come to hold her like this, and even more so, how she could come to hold him in return.
She jerked her hands from his grasp and tangled them in his damp hair, running her fingers over his cheek and the scar over his eye, not flinching and not hesitating as she passed over the smooth skin. It felt like lifetimes before they broke apart, panting even harder than before. Zuko moved his hands from her elbows to her shoulders, then ran them down her sides until they rested firmly on her waist. Their eyes locked for a long, long moment. Katara felt Zuko’s hand touch her lips, but she didn’t see it; she was too focused on the blazing look in his eyes.
“You are a constant surprise, Katara,” murmured Zuko, his eyes gleaming.
“Don’t talk. I might just change my mind.”
At that, they both jumped apart, smirking and standing with their hands at the ready. At the same exact time, they both pushed out all the strength that they had left. A waterfall poured from Katara’s hands; a crackling flamethrower shot from Zuko’s. They collided in midair. But instead of dissipating, instead of one conquering the other, the elements intertwined a shot high into the sky, a twisted braid of opposing powers. Katara looked at Zuko again. He was smiling, watching her, and in that moment, Katara knew that a change of mind was no longer even a faint possibility.
The sun was almost fully set now. Only a pale orange glow lit the sky, but their bodies were illuminated like lanterns by Zuko’s fire and set off to glitter like stars by Katara’s water. They drew close again, their magics still swirling and forming a great tornado around them. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Katara kissed him first this time, smiling at his touch and the strength of their bond.