stage kiss
zutara month, day 8: actors au, @zutaramonth
summary: katara just needs to earn enough to make passage to the northern water tribe, so she begins working as a seamstress for an acting troupe in ba sing se. fine enough work in theory, until the leading actress is out sick and katara is asked to step into the role.
other notes: au in which the avatar never returns, and the war is still going on. katara is 16 and just left home, zuko is 18 and let go of his search for the avatar two years ago.
Katara doesn’t believe this is happening.
Well, alright, she mostly does, but. Come on.
All she’d wanted when she came here was to find work that let her earn enough to book passage to the Northern Water Tribe. She had known it would be difficult—her own tribe hadn’t had contact with them in many years, for much longer than she’d been alive—but she hadn’t expected there would be no official transport there when she got to Ba Sing Se.
It had quickly become apparent that her options were to either book passage through a sketchy crowd of characters—sketchy mainly in that she didn’t like the way they looked her up and down, so she’d have to decide which ones she ‘trusted’ the most—or to… purchase a ship herself. And get a crew. And probably learn how to steer it.
She’s still figuring it out.
In any case, she had to earn one way or another, so she was relieved to find the acting troupe when she did, as the director seemed eager for a seamstress right away. Apparently, the last one had quit with barely a word.
Guiltily, Katara does not mention her plans to leave as soon as she has enough money to make passage.
It goes well for several weeks. A lot of the troupe is friendly, if a bit rowdy for her tastes—one earthbending boy has broken so many props she doesn’t know how he hasn’t been fired for it yet—but she’s met some really wonderful people too. Some of the girls her age have taken to talking to her about things like boys and far-off places they’d like to see and makeup and fights with their families, and it makes Katara feel a little choked up. She’d had Gran Gran, of course, and Sokka, and all the little kids she adored and the elders she respected, but she’d never really had someone who was a friend her own age.
The one person she hasn’t made much headway with is a boy a tall boy with dark hair and a scar that clearly came from a burn over his left eye. She’d come to understand quickly that most of the war refugees were blocked off in the lower ring, and they’re in a sort of in-between state, where artisans and food stallers live—it all makes her feel sick to her stomach if she thought about it too hard—but she can’t help but wonder if that’s how he got it.
Zuko, the girls tell Katara his name is. He’s quiet and snappish and glares a lot, only seeming to come alive, to become softer, in those moments on stage when he’s being someone else.
Katara finds herself a little fascinated, despite herself, but it’s nothing to pay any mind to. In the weeks ahead, she’s just got to focus on her work.
It goes well. Until it doesn’t.
“Xiu Bao has fallen ill,” the director says as he implores Katara to take the lead’s place. “We would be ever-indebted to you.”
“But I’m not an actress!” Katara exclaims, feeling her heartbeat grow ever faster.
All she’d wanted was to learn waterbending. Now, she’s being asked to join an acting troupe. Temporarily. But still.
“It’s no matter,” he says. “You’ve seen the play many times over by now—and you don’t have to say the lines exactly,” he adds, a bit urgently. It is, after all, only a few hours until the show is meant to begin. “Just… to the best of your memory.”
Katara purses her lips. She’s not an actress, but her storytelling was well-regarded in a way that always made her proud, if a little squirmy—just like your mother, the elders in her village used to say—so maybe that could translate.
“And I’ll be paid?” she asks.
“Of course,” he assures her. “Yes—thank you, Katara,” he adds, turning heel before she can point out that she hasn’t technically agreed yet.
Probably smart of him.
When she finds herself on stage that evening, made up and in Earth Kingdom robes, she tries to tell herself it’s just like telling a story. Mostly, it works. She remembers the lines surprisingly well.
Something else surprises her, too—the way it barely feels like acting as she stands across from Zuko. His role is still quiet, surly, a romantic lead of few words, but there’s a charm to him, an openness, and she doesn’t know where she possibly draws it from.
It’s near the end of the thing when she remembers with sudden clarity—they’re supposed to kiss here.
How did she find herself in this situation?
When he strides toward her, placing his hands on her waist, Katara’s breath stutters, and that… that isn't acting.
He looks at her searchingly for a moment—does the scene always take this long?—and when she gives a slight nod of her head, he leans forward. Their lips meet, and it feels like the world around them just… stops. His lips are soft and gentle against her own, and from this close, Katara can tell he smells of firewood and cinnamon.
When he pulls back, they rest their foreheads together. Katara breathes in shakily. Zuko is supposed to have a line, Katara’s pretty sure, but he's looking at her with a swell of emotion. The director clears his throat from the front row, and it's only then that Zuko remembers this fact as well.
Katara smiles to herself a little as the scene goes on. Maybe acting wouldn't be such a bad way to earn her keep and save for her travels while she stays here in Ba Sing Se.
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I know it’s been talked about ad nauseam, but I think one of the things that got lost in the discourse about TTPD and the muses and whatnot is how one of, if not the core trigger points of the album is the yearning for commitment and perhaps even more poignantly, motherhood.
The reason she was so susceptible to falling for the “conman’s get love quick schemes” is because she was grieving that imagined life with the person she had long assumed would be the one to give her that. What has been beyond clear in several albums, let alone interviews etc, is that those plans for building a family were very much real and top of mind for years, and she kept holding on and shifting her world in service of making that happen. And when whatever happened happened that pulled that rug out from under her, it left her bereft not just for the relationship that had once been her world but also the imagined family she had been hoping for and sticking out the hard times for.
And that’s likely why she was swayed by and trusting of the promises of someone who knew her history and knew how unmooring that loss was to her. It may have been partially about the person himself or lust or whatever, but the core issue was the pain of giving up the dream, and sublimating that dream into this new opportunity in front of her, because she was so desperate to hold onto the last scraps of that imagined life she wanted so badly. (And I don’t mean desperate as in pathetic or negative, I mean as in fighting within the last ounce of energy and hope she had.) It wasn’t rational and it wasn’t love, it was grief, not just for a relationship but even more so for the family it represented.
So to me the core issue of TTPD isn’t just the Joe vs. Matty or whoever of it all: it’s Taylor and her yearning. She wanted a family badly and a life that was theirs and was processing losing that in all kinds of ways. It’s all over the album in overt and subtle lyrics. It may not have been grieving a literal death but I’d bet it felt pretty darn close.
And I’d also bet that’s why we’re seeing… what we’re seeing now.
(I have so many more thoughts about womanhood and motherhood on TTPD but that is another post being worked on piecemeal in my drafts… this is just a little Saturday morning post-zoomies reflection)
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