Chapter Text
It was before the midnight hour as Zuko watched as the shores of Wolf Cove drew closer. He stood on the bridge’s observation deck, watching the crew as they were orchestrated from one spot to the next. There was a loud clang, and the grind of metal on metal as the housing for the anchors drew back before with another sound of orders the weights dropped with a resounding splash. Along the shore two large flashes of light caught his attention from the newly erected sentry points from end to end of the shoreline.
Hikaru lifted a spyglass to his eye, “Lietunant Ruk, response?” Hikaru inquired, his breath coming out in a silvery plume.
Ruk, hidden behind a metal barrier called back. “Distance. Good. Ashore….zero nine hundred hours.”
“Good,” Hikaru snapped the spyglass closed. “Is there anything else you require, your majesty?”
“No, General. I’ll retire for the night. Alert me if anything is amiss,”
“Yes, my Lord. Have a pleasant evening.” Hikaru bowed and took off in the opposite direction of Zuko who descended down the stairs to retreat to his room knowing well that sleep was likely going to continue to evade him.
Shrugging off his coat, he immediately caught the scent of warm ginger, tangled with lemon and an earthier cinnamon permeating the air of his bedroom. Out on his table all the remnants of dinner had been swept away and now there were three cups, trails of steam winding upwards toward the ceiling. He shuffled over, running a hand up to his top knot and gave the flame point tucked into his hair a yank and casually tossed it onto the end of his bed.
After the news of his mother, and the subsequent fainting episode afterward, Yan determined that it was best if the topic not be broached again until their return. Zuko had snapped at Yan, refusing to take any medicine like a petulant child until he forked over any other bits of information, anything to satiate his overwhelming hunger for more. It was an ugly reaction, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. How could he tell him that his mother was alive and then clam up? Yan’s excuse was that all would be revealed when the time was right. Whenever that would be. Again he said that this involved his entire family, not just him. That part just fueled his curiosity even further. How did this involve him exactly? Why couldn’t he just ignore all that and just talk about his mother? He was so irritatingly vague about it all, that it set his teeth constantly on edge. So, the two started to interact as little as possible, speaking only what was necessary and that was all.
Downing each cup in succession he got ready for bed, his thoughts already beginning to churn. Why leave? Why didn’t she take him? As much as he wished she had, he already knew that was likely not an option, especially if her life was at stake. Regardless of how much his father despised him, he was the crown prince, his son. Ozai would have sent out a small army to chase them all over the globe until Zuko was dragged back behind the palace walls. They would have never been free of him.
Years away, and yet for a few short months she had been right there in Ba Sing Se, right within his orbit. Did he pass her on the street when he walked to the market early in the morning before they opened the shop? Was she just a street away? What if during one of his many late night walks, or his excursions as the Blue Spirit he had just missed her as she returned back to her home. So many questions bogged his mind that it was leaving him with a small perpetual headache.
Yan’s contact, Lady Zheng, confirmed that she had visited Ursa or Lian as she was known, only a week prior in her apartment in the upper ring.
She was in good health.
She was a calligraphy teacher.
She was unmarried, and lived with a ‘cousin’ in the garden district where it was well known among the upper echelons of society of Ozai’s defeat, and how his eldest son had now taken his place on the throne.
Zuko searched the ceiling gazing up at the shadows that trembled above from the candle on the opposite wall. He tried to imagine what his mother must have been thinking when she heard the news. Relieved that Ozai was imprisoned was a given. The monster that had separated them both was now locked away in the depths of the Capitol City prison, and would no longer have a death grip on the throats of everyone that breathed in the palace walls, and beyond. It was something he often had to remind himself of when he roamed the palace as he was still instinctively peering round every bend, and unconsciously sparing a part of his attention to listening for the sound of his voice. It was beyond a habit, it was ingrained in his bones, etched in deep by a knife. His father’s words had lost their bite, the wound finally healing but one good scrape away from being ripped raw again. He wondered how long it would take to exercise the lingering influence from his life, months, years? There were times he was resigned to the fact that there may never be a day he would be free utterly of him.
He was of his own blood after all. His father. In title and nothing more, but still…
There was a loud knock on the door, “My lord, I’m sorry to disturb you, but someone is approaching the vessel.” General Hikaru stated, his voice carried clear across the room.
She wouldn’t. “Enter,” Zuko said as he rolled immediately over to the side of the bed and set his feet on the floor. The long red candle sitting on its metal sconce was still lengthy, the two metal pins marking the hour of five and six in the morning were still firmly pinned in its waxen body with the gold pin marking the start of the new day gone by what appeared to be only an hour. If it was Katara, it didn’t exactly make him feel comforted that she was chomping at the bit to speak to him.
He quickly ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tamper down the ruffled mess that had been ground back and forth along his pillow. “Any signal from this visitor?” He asked as he tried to give the proper illusion of a concerned leader and not the boy whose fingers trembled as they danced along the robes in his wardrobe.
“No, they appear to be making a slow calculated approach. They keep cutting along the ice to hide their position, but not so much to not be spotted by our archers.” The General was now half in and out of the bedroom, his hand resting on the grip of his sword.
Zuko pulled out a simple outer robe of deep red and quickly donned it. “Everyone is standing by correct?” Briskly walking across the room he leaned over and snagged his boots and took a seat as he quickly jammed one foot into one, and then the other, shifting back and forth until it was settled in place.
“Yes, my lord. We have six archers posted on the port side. Three of my top lieutenants are taking up station on the main deck, and six soldiers are on the lower.” Hikaru stood aside as Zuko made his way to the door.
“We cannot afford anyone to take a shot when it could be an innocent party.” Zuko closed the door and fell in behind his general as he ushered him down the dimly lit corridor. If it’s Katara you really don’t want to be on the receiving end of that retribution.
“It may very well be an innocent party, but they are taking a rather unorthodox approach. Why come now when we are expected to come ashore in eight hours?” Hikaru said, curiosity lightening what was usually a heavy tenor to his voice. He grabbed a hold of the circular multiarmed handle of the bulkhead door, and gave it a hard turn until there was the audible thunk of the deadbolt as it slid out of place of the strike plate. Blinking, Zuko lifted a hand to his brow to shield his eyes as they emerged from the ship's dark interior into the bright rays of the midnight sun.
Zuko gave way to his general, taking on more of a defensive stance as he checked in with each soldier they encountered. The general looked about before signaling Zuko with two fingers to step back. Begrudgingly, he fell back, taking to a corner like a child sent into a time out. It was so counterintuitive to what he was used to.
Even when he was the crown prince he was still operating on the offensive, ignoring anyone regardless of their rank because he simply could. But now he had to change. He had to give way to those under his command to show his respect for their position. There were too many years he spent leaning hard on his own miscalculated ideas of what he should and shouldn’t do. Endangering himself far too many times to count or recall at this point, and often rebuffing anyone who had told him he was wrong. Now he was the Fire Lord, at least going to be in far more of a functioning capacity soon, and he couldn’t afford to be so reckless. Ignoring the fact that he was still struggling with stamina issues on the physical front, it was also imperative during these early steps into his rule to keep garnering people to the cause, to him. He was so overwhelmingly at a disadvantage on that front from his years of exile, time as a ‘traitor’ and now suddenly a sovereign that no one quite believed in. It was a gamble, it always would be, but he had to play the game.
“Bow! Incoming!” A voice yelled from up above. Zuko shifted, an elbow tucked toward his side, fingers curled up into his palm, and his other arm extended out. Please let it be her… Hikaru took a few calculated steps toward the edge of the rail, and peered over. In divine timing a wall of water rushed upward, sailing clean over Hikaru’s head. “Men! To the ready!” The General barked as he leapt back and drew his sword. The wave curled up and then fell downward toward the deck and plunked something down with a splash. Zuko emerged from his position along the edge of the perron, body poised to react in a moment's notice, but too curious to stand still.
It was a canoe. The small boat spun round almost in a full three sixty before it settled with a groan. In the body of the craft, was a figure, half crouched as they had braced themselves from the fall. The fur rimmed hood of their parka obscured their face as they took a step out onto the deck followed shakily by another before their legs seemed to give out. Crumbling onto their knees, their breath like smoke, they reached up and pulled back their hood.
A breath caught in his throat. It was Katara.
He would have known it was her if every one of his senses were ripped away. His soul was struck like a hammer to a golden bell, singing out to her own with a sound that would have shattered mountains and stilled roaring rivers.
Zuko was moving before his mind could even register it, “Stand down!” he commanded, covering the distance in an instant. Dropping to his knees his eyes scoured up and down her frame. Her cheeks were colored a crab apple red, glistening with the shine of the salt water that had misted her skin. It was not that he had forgotten how beautiful she was, but his mind had been running with an imperfect version. A glass bracelet passed off as jade. Her eyes shined a glacier blue, her thick dark lashes swept briefly at the rogue drops of water that had threatened to snake into her vision.
A small smile bloomed on lips he had kissed over a hundred times. They beckoned to him so sweetly it was driving a hard ache in his stomach. “Hey,” Katara said, breathily.
“Hey,” he echoed as he rested a hand on her shoulder. “How are you?” Really..geez..anything else..literally could have said anything else.
“I’m fine I just got a little dizzy.”
His heart jammed up into his throat, “A-are you okay?” He asked, lightly patting her down along her other arm and to her knee. Her eyes grew round before she etched out a small laugh,
“I’m fine, I think I’m just tired. It’s already going away.” She rubbed the edge of her temple.
“Here, let me help you.” He gently took hold of her and slowly helped her rise. Her body wobbled and he set a hand on her waist to steady her. “Are you sure you're okay?”
There was a meaningful pause as she took a few steadying breaths and replied, “I’m sure.” She rested her gloved hand atop of his before he took it back.
“Alright,” Zuko wasn’t thoroughly convinced, but the last thing he wanted was to poke at anything that would spark even the opportunity for her mood to sour. He tried to relax the tension that was drawing his shoulders up toward his ears, and simply cleared his throat. “So um, how have you been?” He muttered quietly to himself. “I already asked that…”
Katara chuckled and drew out her long braid that had coiled in the back of her hood, bringing it forward so it draped over her shoulder. “I’ve been better…you?”
“Um…I’ve been..okay.”
“Just okay?” Her lashes lifted high as she grabbed his shoulder. “Are you still having those shooting pains? I told you that if you did you could have just told me and I would have come.”
Did she say that? In the blur of the overwhelming heartache on the day of her departure he could only recall just snippets of things that had been said to him. He tried to keep up the performance, apologizing if he seemed dazed or uninterested blaming it on a lack of sleep. They all bought it of course, all except Katara who looked just as disheveled and worn as he did. The only thing he remembered was how she had avoided looking at him as she hauled her rucksack onto her father’s ship. Her goodbye had been cutting, sharp and exact as she stalked up that narrow gangplank, and disappeared out of sight.
He quickly answered her, “No-no, I just..well..” He hesitated daring himself to speak the words that were sitting on the edge of his tongue. “...I missed you.”
Zuko waited, standing on the head of a pin unsure if he was about to fall into a dark abyss or be lifted onto more stable ground with just a look. He got more than that. Katara wrapped her arms around him, her hands pressing hard along his upper back as she rested her face onto his chest. Craning her face up at him, he looked down at her just as she said, “I missed you too,” her voice was like a wisp of silk that left a soft trail along the skin. Little bumps raised along his flesh from the thrill of hearing those words. She didn’t hate him. He hadn’t unraveled them so badly that he couldn’t salvage something from all this. He returned the embrace, silently begging for time to slow just enough for them to enjoy every second.
The sound of General Hikaru clearing his throat suddenly made him aware of all the eyes on both of them and he felt a heat flood his face. Awkwardly, he pulled back and absently brushed one of her sleeves. “Tell everyone to stand down, General. There is no threat here.” He said in a far raspy tone than he had wanted.
This statement seemed to humor her, “No threat? You sure? You know what I’ve done to ships just as big as this one?” Katara scoffed, arching one brow.
“I’m not saying that you aren’t a threat,” He said with a smirk, as he steered her back toward the superstructure. “Just didn’t think you’d come over here and throw a canoe on the deck of my warship.”
“Yeah I meant for a bit of a smoother landing, but my body had other plans.”
“Are you sick?”
“Um, sorta.”
He took a comical sidestep from her, holding up his hands. “Sorta? Well are you or aren't you?”
Katara rolled her eyes and managed to get in a light punch to his shoulder. “Stop it. It’s not like that.”
“Not like what?”
Katara ran her hands down the front of her parka, a mask of unease drew in her brows into a worrying line. “Don’t worry about it. You can’t catch it.”
“Oh, well okay.” Zuko looked at her a bit perplexed. Why did she say it like that? The pair came to a halt in front of the general, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. Curiously scanning the trespassing waterbender, his mouth was dangerously close to wearing a scowl. “General, this is Master Katara. She’s the daughter of Chief Hakoda, and one of my closest friends.” Friends? Well maybe…again she doesn’t seem mad… “Katara, this is General Hikaru. He is my second in command.”
Katara bowed, making sure to bend at the waist and lower her head just enough to expose the crown of her head before straightening. “Nice to meet you, General. I’m sorry about the canoe. I meant to come a different way, but I just had to make do with what I had.”
Zuko waited, observing his subordinate with a tick of irritation as Hikaru saw fit to only give her the slightest tilt of his head in response. The older officer’s eyes met his and Zuko shot back at him with a hard stare while he subtly gestured with a finger obscured from her view firmly downward. Both young men stood, an unspoken exchange crossing between them. A test, one of many small ones that he had already encountered within the palace walls and especially now without his Uncle’s presence. Finally, Hikaru gave in and returned her bow with one even deeper than hers. “Welcome, Master Katara. I do apologize for the perceived hostilities. We had not received word that you would be arriving at such an hour.”
“I’m sorry. I wanted to have a private conversation with the Fire Lord, and sending a hawk wasn’t really an option. I can assure you I won’t make that mistake again.”
Clearly unamused by all of this he responded to this with a sneer, “That is wise. We wouldn’t want there to be any accidents. Wouldn’t we?”
“No, no we wouldn’t.” Katara held him down with a stern look before Zuko placed a hand on the small of her back.
“Let’s retire to my room. General, I leave you in charge for the remainder of the evening.” He laid a hand gently on the small of her back and started to shepherd her away.
“Of course, my lord. Have a pleasant remainder of your evening.” With another bow he stalked off.
“He seems like a jerk,” Katara grumbled as she flicked her braid behind her.
With a smirk Zuko added, “Mhmm..he’s…tough sometimes, but he was the top of his class in the academy, an excellent swordsman, and the only one who had all the qualifications and recommendations that my council liked.”
She rolled her eyes, “Eh, still he’s a jerk.”
It was stupid how much he was enjoying this. A grin plastered on his face before she noticed it. “What?” She asked incredulously as he took a hold of the handle of the bulkhead.
He tampered his reaction down as best he could, hiding it with a shrug. “Nothing,” The look on her face, and the way she crossed her arms across her chest was answer enough. She knew. Read him like a scroll laid out and amplified by a magnifying glass, not missing a single detail. “Come on, I’ll make you some tea.”
Conversation ebbed back and forth as they caught up on a few things, topics that were easy enough to get through without too much fuss.
Zuko took the tea tray from the servant at the door with a word of thanks and carefully shut the door behind him. He picked a small white and blue ceramic cup and placed it in her hands. She turned it over, carefully trailing her eyes along the dark blue landscape as it encompassed the entirety of the vessel. Steady brush strokes had conjured a house along a mountside, surrounded by sprawling pines, and a meandering path that disappeared into a small village below. He took the seat opposite of her, taking a moment to settle the ends of his robes just about his knees.
“So, are you happy to be home again?” Zuko asked as he worked the top of a wooden container off with a slight pop. The subtle scent of dried tea leaves briefly wafted past his nose, bringing out a smile without him realizing it as he thought of that dirty old tea shop back in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se. His arms covered in sweat, his clothes smelling of ash and his apron stained from charcoal. Would it be strange to say he missed it? He brought the container closer to the kettle and with a flick of his fingers lit the small burner underneath.
Katara was still quietly looking at her cup, staring idly at the milky white that coated its inner body. The question seemed to rouse her enough as she said, “Oh yeah it's been great.”
He tried to pick apart her tone. It didn’t exactly sound bored but there was some level of disinterest or distance in her tone. He swallowed hard, wishing the water would boil faster. “Did your grandmother like the chocolates?”
“Oh yeah, well she didn’t like the ones with the chilis in them. I mean I don’t blame her ya know. After traveling round the world I got accustomed to all the different cuisines, and coming back was a bit of a harsh reminder of how much our diet can be a bit..bland. Sokka demolished them though so they didn’t go to waste.”
“Well at least she enjoyed some of the treats. Sokka probably got a sour stomach from downing all those.”
“Yeah…he was grumbling about it for a whole day.” Katara fidgeted with the cup in her hand, turning it round by her fingertips.
He pressed on, still unsure how to proceed, how to coax out of whatever she was holding in. He could almost see it, the way her throat bobbed far more than what was considered normal. How she kept herself pinned to the teacup and not daring to stray upward to look at him. “Ah well, that’s Sokka for you. So how is-”
“I’m pregnant.”
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The words came out so suddenly Katara wasn’t even sure if she had even said them at all. The beating of her heart strummed the heart line that trailed up her neck, twinging like a lute string. She thought that with the secret spilled it would relieve the tension knitting her rib bones together, but it only seemed to loosen by the tiniest degree.
Zuko had paused, the small serving spoon still aloft as the other hand held the tea box at a tilt as he had been just about to parcel out what was needed. He blinked, his broken brow line cracked along the bridge of his nose. She pressed her thumbs into the edge of the cup as her eyes traced the curve of his lips intently, and leaned slightly forward in anticipation. He dug the spoon into the spindly dry leaves with a crunch, and drew out a healthy scoop. With a little tap along the lip to shake off the excess he tipped the spoonful right into the rolling water. “I um..what did you say?” he nearly choked out.
At this she straightened, taking a moment to shift her seat and adjust the coat that lay piled around her lap. “I’m pregnant, Zuko.” She said with far more conviction than the last.
The spoon clattered noisily, spinning hard before it careened off the table and onto the floor. Slipping out of his fingers the container landed with a soft thud, tea leaves and dried jasmine petals spilled across the tabletop and onto his lap. The mixture reached the burn plate and the fire greedily gobbled it up, shooting flames along the small burner up around the body of the kettle. Katara dropped her cup and hastily yanked the water out from the pot and froze the entirety into a solid chunk.
He didn’t move an inch. Golden eyes transfixed. “Y-you’re..pregnant?” He stuttered.
Katara gave a slight nod, “Yep,” Way to make that sound so casual. She clasped her hands on her lap. His eyes flicked from her face down to her stomach before looking down and suddenly remembering all the mess. As he got to his feet he gave a slight cough, brushing off everything onto the floor. “Oh, um…congratulations.” He took the ends of his shirt and shook off the bits of leaves. “Aang must be-” He started before she jumped in.
Oh you’ve got to be kidding! Slamming her palms onto the table she snapped, “It’s yours you dumbass!” Spirits above, you thought that I just jumped right onto Aang’s dick! After everything I…”
The Fire Lord’s face dropped a whole shade bringing it to a powdered ivory. “What?”
Just as her anger had spiked it quickly plunged into oblivion at the sight. Anticipating a possibility of his usual dramatics, she stood. “I think you should sit down,”
Ignoring her suggestion, Zuko had instead chosen to walk clean across the room. “I-I’m…no..no I mean we haven’t been together like that in a long time.” He turned, and started to walk back to the table, rubbing a spot at the back of his neck.
Long time huh? Katara placed her hands on her hips, “You think I’m lying?”
His good brow rose, “No-no..but…I mean..there was ember island…the tea house…but then I got hurt, and then there was the coronation. I mean there wasn’t-” She could almost see the memory playing right out in front of him, fingers that had been prodding along the slope of his shoulder slowly grew lax. “The observatory,”
“Yeahhhh the observatory, remember now?” She leaned forward onto the balls of her feet before tipping back onto his heels. “Must not have had a great time if you almost forget about that night.”
Like testing the ripeness of a fruit there was a faint twinge in the center of her chest. Did he not care? Really? She dismissed the thought, having to force herself to recall all the other moments that had passed between them. To give him the benefit of the doubt for just a few moments.
“Don’t say that,” He turned his back to the wall. His hands covered his face, his chest giving one deep heave as he slid slowly down to the floor. “It was…amazing.” He mumbled from behind his hands.
It had been.
Sneaking up and away from all the eyes that had been upon them all day and slipping into the abandoned observatory tucked into the far edge of the eastern wing of the palace. Thick sheets of cobwebs clung to each corner of the room, their fine silvery threads caught the rays of moonlight. The circular window above caked in dust and grit dulled the light spilling in. Sprawled under the heavenly orb, sitting astride him and drinking in every little gasp and whimper. Sounds that nearly a month prior had such a different meaning. No longer tied to pain, but was an assurance of their shared genuine pleasure of one another. The feel of his fingers digging deep into her thighs leaving indents in her flesh. Relishing how he struggled to keep his eyes open as he reached the pinnacle of that shared high before he fell apart underneath her.
As she had laid awake after yet another day that she had not bled, her mind had wandered to this memory over and over. It was at least a little reassuring that they hadn’t conceived during one of their rushed moments on Ember Island. Instead it was during a well earned moment of calm, one where they didn’t have to strain an ear for any sound of movement, or worry about someone coming round a corner. An encounter where they clung tighter to one another more than any other time before as they had realized they had come so very close to losing what they had so permanently.
Putting one foot in front of the other she kneeled in front of him, “You okay? You’re not going to pass out are you?” She asked softly.
“No, I already did that three days ago.” He muttered.
“Oh, what happened? Did another girl tell you that you’re expecting a baby?” It was a poor attempt to tease and she cringed as soon as the words settled in the air.
Zuko drew down his hands and said, “My mother is alive,”
Katara gasped, “Your mom! Spirits, really!” She grabbed his hand, finding it a little clammy, and gave it a squeeze. “That’s wonderful! I-I can’t believe it! Do you know where she is?”
A small tired looking smile crept on his lips as he rested his other hand on top of hers. “You’ll never guess,”
“Probably not just tell me,”
He turned his head, his eyes finally meeting hers again. “Ba Sing Se,”
“You’re joking!”
“I’m not,”
“Really?”
“Yep, apparently she’s been there for years now.”
“Wow, that’s crazy, Zuko.” Katara started to realize how suddenly overloaded he probably was and how her own little news probably hadn’t helped. Being the Firelord, his mother, and now a baby. Not that it wouldn’t have changed her mind about telling him. He had to know.
There was a lapse of silence, both of them sitting and idly staring across the room toward the bedroom door. There was the faint sound of the drip of water that had snaked across the tabletop from the melting ice. His thumb gently ran back and forth along the back of her hand, settling her in a way she so dearly missed. Unconsciously she had curled up closer, and rested her head on his shoulder. As comfortable as she was, and as much as she just wanted to pretend all was well, the words from that night were still fresh and sharp in her mind. “Why did you let me go?” She said in a whisper, willing herself to step back into that argument even though all she wanted to do was stomp it out. Her head shifted slightly along his shoulder as he took in a deep inhale before exhaling hard.
“I don’t want to talk about that right now.” His tone was more of a warning than something said casually.
She sat up, a tightness pulling her cheeks as she felt a faint sting in the corner of her eyes. “It’s important, Zuko. What am I going to do if I don’t know what’s going through that head of yours.”
“Do what?” He slipped a couple of his fingers between the spaces of hers. She opened her mouth to speak when he cut her off. “The...baby…right.”
“Calm down there, Zuko, don’t go jumping for joy on my account.” Katara grumbled wanting to take back her hand only for him to tighten his grip. This was not how she had imagined this moment to go when she had often daydreamed of her future. She had thought she would be married at least. Things happen of course so she wasn’t too upset with that, but she had always imagined how excited her partner would be. Maybe there would be some tears? Jumping round like a lop rabbit and taking her up in their arms in glee. Instead she was here with a young man who looked like he was going to either vomit up his dinner or continue to act like he was being sent to the gallows. Trying to wrangle herself to a more logical and understanding viewpoint was impossible as the hurt quickly ran amok in her chest. “I’m sorry, just ignore me.” Was all she managed to say feeling rather dejected.
“I’m not ignoring you.” He said nearly stumbling over the words.
Oh he didn’t understand…never mind. He’s probably not exactly thinking straight right now.
“Are you…do you want to keep the baby?” Zuko asked.
She chewed her lip, “Yes,”
“Even if I said I didn’t want you to have the baby?”
It was a plunge into the ocean during the dead of winter, the cold chill nearly taking her breath away. “You…you don’t want me-”
“I just wanted to know what you wanted first. It doesn’t matter to me-”
“It should matter! This is your son or daughter we are talking about!”
“I didn’t mean it like that! Don’t put words in my mouth.” He retorted.
She wrenched her hand back. “Then what do you mean! What do you want, Zuko!”
“I’m not ready to be a father, Katara!” He yelled.
The heat burned into the edge of her cheekbones. “Do you think I’m ready? Because they’re here, growing and making me puke my guts out nearly everyday.” She stood up and wrestled with the knot on her side that held the embroidered sash that draped across her waist. “Making it impossible for me to get my chores done, and man do I really hate fish right now.” Unfurling the tie she tossed the wrap aside in a huff. “So I don’t really care if you’re ready or not. Just what are you going to do? Am I going to do this alone or are you going to do this with me?”
He stared up at her, eyes drifting to her stomach. “I-I want to be with you.”
“That’s not what I am asking,”
“I know,”
“I’m asking if you want to be in their life or not?”
“Katara I-”
“Before you say another word…” She knew it was a tad dramatic, but at this point the shock value was probably the only thing that was going to drive this home. Gathering up the hem of her tunic she rolled the garment up and over her head. Discarding that she gathered up the end of her undershirt as well and had it join the pile at her feet. Ignoring the look in his eyes as he took in the sight of her swollen breasts as they strained against the tight binding. Of course, he would notice that first. Golden eyes trailed downward, as she shimmied the band of her pants down to settle at the end of her hipbones. Losing the fire that was driving her confidence, feeling the cool air along her body, she felt incredibly exposed.
It was stupid. She had been laid out before him with not a scrap of fabric on, his fingers explored every bit of her skin, his mouth knew a bit as well. Yet, this felt so much more intimate than that. Like she had torn off all the flesh and bone for him to see the heart that bled for him, screamed his name as she orgasmed and cried when she felt his own heart struggling to beat. For a moment, she forgot herself. Torn into two. Her body striding a line between the old, the familiar, and the unknown before her that was literally gestating in her womb. Something that they had created together, but she was ultimately sacrificing herself for. So much of her had already changed, pulling and pushing in ways she had never had to carry herself before.
She cast her eyes away from him, guarding her stomach with her arms. “I just want you to see…” The rest of the words that were meant to be said dissolved on her tongue like snow.
☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀
Ever since Zuko had met her she had driven him crazy. Katara had always had the knack of throwing him off balance whenever he thought he had gained even the slightest upperhand. Hatred turned into a strange begrudging respect for her as he saw her improve in leaps and bounds, even if it involved beating his ass. Even in Ba Sing Se he had thought of her, wondering where she was, and if they would cross paths again. Then there was the moment they shared in the crystal caverns, a flash of what could have been and instead he had dashed it to pieces. It was a small miracle that he had not only gotten in her good graces, but proved to her how much he had regretted what had transpired. He would never have thought where that would have all led to.
And yet when she was extending her heart out to him again that night in his bedroom, he kept those three words locked tight in his chest. Letting a deep seeded fear claw them back into the pit of his stomach. Another mistake. One he wasn’t sure they would ever recover from. A lost cause. Friendship was the only thing he could hope for in the coming years, and nothing more. But this was Katara, and it seemed again she was knocking him right off his feet.
How could she be even more beautiful? He didn’t think it could be possible. How could she have improved from a state of perfection that she so easily wore in a smile, or simply a glance. The warm dusty wheat tone of her skin had a luster in the low light of the lamplight that made her ethereal. Of course, he saw her breasts, taking in the way her wraps were drawn tight, accentuating the new fullness that sat heavily on her chest. Yet that didn’t hold his attention when the evidence of their copulation was so evident it was impossible to ignore. He didn’t realize he had gotten up as he was so mesmerized he could have walked right off the edge of a cliff. Countless times he had rested his head on her torso recovering from the dazed state they were in after they had been intimate with one another. Cords of muscle subtly flexing under his hands as he cleaved her cunt with his tongue. Now there was a softness, harder edges now smoothed like the rocks along a mountain river. All this simply accented the rounded rise off her stomach that was building along her frame.
It all still didn’t feel real, even when she had said she was pregnant he was still waiting for the joke to be called. But no, there was no trick. A hand lingered, fingertips trembling as he hesitated to touch there.
Too much. The stresses of being the Fire Lord was nipping at his heels and the news of his mother was stealing his nights, but this? This was a future, someone’s future that would tie them together either in a partnership or in a miserable silent bond that neither would speak of.
A child. Someone that might look like him? Little hands pawing at his robes, toddling after him as he strode down the halls of the palace. Looking up at him with eyes so eager for attention. Time that he may not always have. He often didn’t see his own father for weeks at a time, but he could guess that was on purpose. There was an ache in his jaw. What if he lost his temper? A small face breaking into tears as they took off to hide. What if they hated him?
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Zuko questioned softly, still looking down at her baby bump.
“I was in a bit of denial…well a lot of denial. Sorry,” Katara said, gently taking his jaw with her fingers and tipping up his face so she looked directly at him. “I’m almost four months along now.”
“It’s okay. Um h-how long does it take for a baby to be ready?”
“Nine,”
“So we have some time…” He stole a quick look back down at the child literally between them.
“A little, yeah.”
“If…if we were going to do this together…does this mean that we are going to be together..like ‘together together’ again?”
“We don’t have to be if that’s worrying you.”
“I want to be with you, Katara.”
The familiar pleasant buzz washed over at the point their foreheads had touched, sparking the remnants of a fire doused in a flood of despair. A moth fluttering without regard for its safety to a flame point, he pressed his lips to hers tasting the remnant of a tear that had caught at the edge of her mouth. One trembling hand tangled within her own, whilst the other gently cupped her face. He closed his eyes, “I’m scared,” he admitted, unsure if she understood that was the answer to even what she had questioned before.
She returned his kiss, lingering far longer than he dared to all the while shepherding his hand to the rounded part of her stomach, and pressed his hand there. Just there underneath his palm was their child.
A child.
Their child.
He thought he had time, so much more time to tangle with the monster made of fractured memory and old doubts. A voice that sounded too much like his father’s on some days, and at times…was his own. An old wound trying to heal, but cracking under a building pressure.
Katara ran a hand along his hair, and kissed him once more. “Then let’s be scared together.”