#zutara month day 4: ashes

[sokkastyles]

Zutara Month Day 4: Ashes

Nights in the Ember Island house were spent in the large central room, bedrolls spread out around the ornate hearth. There were enough rooms in the house that they could have all had their own bedroom, but without anybody saying anything, they had all seemed to silently agree to stay together. The adjoining rooms were all full of years of dust, anyway, and no one really felt comfortable enough about sleeping in the Firelord's bed. Katara also noticed that Zuko seemed somewhat defensive of those parts of the house, despite his generosity in taking them all here to stay.

She still hadn't quite figured Zuko out, although each day since they had returned, she felt like she'd discovered another piece of the puzzle. It had begun to feel like a game, discovering which pieces went where, and what sort of picture they would make at the end.

It had been late, and something had woken her, some small movement or sound. She scanned the room, and saw one of the bedrolls twisting, heard a cry, and then the dim glow of Zuko's hands summoning flame as if to ward off an intruder.

She'd crossed the room before she realized what she was doing, her own hands wreathed in water from the basin, and she knelt, curling her fingers around Zuko's lighted fists. He was sitting up in bed, staring at her with wide, but unseeing eyes. Steam rose from their joined hands in the darkened silence. No one else was awake. Zuko turned his head, blinked, then looked back at her, the terror that had been there before giving way to shame, then anger. He wrenched his hands away from her and stalked off into the deeper part of the house.

Katara glanced briefly back at the others, still in their beds, before following.

Zuko had entered a room at the end of the hallway. She found him sitting on the bed in what looked to have been a child's bedroom. Layers of dust coated shelves lined with seashells, paper dragons, books and other toys, and a collection of smooth sea glass organized by size and color.

His left side was facing her, and she spoke softly before approaching. "Zuko?"

He turned towards her, the left eye squinted and out of focus, but the right one was rimmed in red, as if he had been crying.

Since he didn't run away again, she took that as an invitation to sit down next to him on the bed. She could feel him trembling slightly next to her, but he didn't move away, and his body began to relax at her presence. Katara was startled to discover that she could almost hear his heartbeat slowing, though they sat with a few inches between them. She had been noticing that, lately, ever since she had bloodbent again, and for some reason she seemed to notice it around Zuko most of all.

Finally he spoke, staring at the collection of child's things on the shelves, not at her.

"I...he burned you. All of you. In my dream. Every single one of you. Dead, everyone. All to ash." Zuko swallowed and still didn't look at her. "He made me watch."

"Zuko..." Katara carefully put a hand on his arm, ready to pull away if he did, but he didn't. Zuko turned to look at the hand, his gaze still avoiding hers, but there was something about the way his heartbeat jumped slightly when she had touched him.

"Just promise me," he said, his voice a quiet rasp, "promise me that we'll stop him."

"We will," she said, and her voice was more certain than she felt, but she wanted to give him this, at least, in this moment, and he finally looked up at her, and his hand moved to cover hers where it still rested on his arm. His eyes met hers, and he nodded slightly, his heartbeat still doing that odd little dance, but it wasn't out of fear this time, and Katara knew that he didn't doubt her, and she knew that she would never doubt him, ever again.

Zuko stood up and walked back down the hallway to join the others, and she followed him, gazing back at him once more after they had both returned to their seperate bedrolls, and saw him lying with his back to her, his chest rising and falling gently with his breathing, and she thought about what it had felt like to feel his heart in that moment, to hold it in her hands, to be there with him in that secret room of his childhood, with its paper dragons and its books, and she felt as if she was holding Zuko, somehow, an odd thought that stayed with her as she drifted off to sleep.

#zutara #zutaramonth #zutara month day 4: ashes #zutara month 2024 #my fic

[dantelovesvirgil]

4. Ashes

Katara learns that late night conversations and good music might let you change your mind on a bad habit such as smoking.

Or maybe just on the person producing the smoke.

#zutara #zutara fanart #zutara month #day 4 #ashes

[azehearts]

In honor of the #Zutara Month 2024 and Star Wars Day, here's a Zutara x Reylo mashup

Day 4 Ashes prompt! Inspired by Reylo's iconic fight scene in The Last Jedi

Been super busy so I actually don't have a zk month entry and this was done so quickly lol hahaha 👉👈

#zutara #katara #zuko #zuko x katara #fanart #atla #star wars #may the fourth be with you

[homeagainrose]

Onward to Day 4: Ashes!

Alright so I wanted to be angsty and hurt/comforty. Which didn't work. Shout out to fandom bestie who helped make it not angsty. But fluffy/cute.

Hail Zutara Month!

Just a moment around a fire. Probably after Southern Raiders, could easily be Post War.

@zutaramonth

Also, May the Fourth!

#zutara month 2024 #zutara #zuko x katara #new chapter

[sailorshadzter]

from the ashes of war we rise like stars in the sky

The world where the Avatar has fallen and the war was instead won by the Fire Nation is cruel and dark. Team Avatar tried to get the upper hand with a battle, but the battle cost them more than they could imagined. Those who survived were separated, unknowing if their teammates lived or died. Will they survive long enough to become a group once more? Zutara based.

a rewrite (and continuation).

read on ao3

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

The dungeon is dark and damp.

It’s something that despite all the time that’s passed, she’s yet to grow accustomed to it. The small cell is windowless, so she lives in the dark always, never knowing when it is day or night. She lives in perpetual darkness. At first, when she’d first been brought to this place, she had railed against the heavy oak door, banging her fists and using her own sweat to cut away at the wood… But in the end, it was too much for her on her own and she was left with no other choice but to give in and accept the fate she’d been dealt.

That was months ago now, or so she assumes. It’s hard to keep track of time, considering her circumstances, and she can only guess just how long it has been. She never knows what one day will bring- death, she thinks most days, and some of those days she thinks it might just be better if that were the case. To continue living this way… Through starvation and torture, through pain and suffering… She isn’t certain how much longer she can take it all. But, the Fire Nation keeps her alive, perhaps to be used as bait someday against Zuko, or perhaps for another reason entirely, she couldn’t really say. 

After Aang had fallen to Ozai the day of Sozin’s Comet, everything had changed. With his life had fled the hope of the world and the faith that anyone could defeat the Fire Nation. They had tried to rally the troops, to keep on fighting without Aang, but in the end, there was no healing the broken hopes of the world that had lost their Avatar. So, after a battle that had left her separated from the others, she went on the run, hiding out where she could and being protected by those still loyal to the Avatar’s cause, even if they were far and few between. It’s been so long now since she last saw Sokka or Toph or Zuko that she doesn’t even know if they lived or died… She misses them. She misses them all.

Not long after fleeing the Earth Kingdom, in hopes of finding the others, she’d been caught by a troop of soldiers that had beaten her. In a state of exhaustion from weeks of running, of fighting, of fear, they had overpowered her four to one and she’d been brought back to the Fire Nation, right to the Fire Lord- no, the Phoenix King as he styled himself now. He had offered her a deal… Plead for her life and swear an everlasting oath to him and the Fire Nation and he would release her from her prison. She’d spit at his feet in response.

And so, that was how she found herself where she was now, rotting away in this damp prison cell. 

On this night, she finds she cannot sleep, not something all that unusual for her. The straw pallet they gave her as a bed is little more than a few inches thick, she might as well sleep on the stone floor, and she’s uncomfortable from a wound she’d sustained just the day before. She tosses and turns for the better part of several hours, staring sometimes at the ceiling, other times at the wall or door, until…

Footsteps. 

She’s on alert now, listening closely, wondering for a moment if she’s only just imagined the sound. Footsteps would only mean trouble for her, after all. She lays in silence, waiting, wondering, when the next sound comes. It’s the lock on her door clicking and she knows without a doubt that the door to the cell will swing open at any moment. The late hour surprises her, but she supposes she shouldn’t be shocked, considering all the other abuse she’s suffered at the Fire Nation’s hands. 

The door slowly opens, the familiar creak of the hinges sending chills down her spine. 

There, in the doorway, is not a Fire Nation soldier, but rather, it is a tall form of what she knows must be a man, a blue mask over his face. She doesn’t move, rather, remains still and silent beneath the thin sheet she’s covered up with, a hundred different thoughts racing through her mind. And then… “Katara…?” 

She blinks, attention caught most certainly now. Even now, despite the time that had passed, she would know the pitch of that voice anywhere. But, she doesn’t dare believe it, she cannot get her hopes up like that. It was impossible after all, that Zuko would be standing there in her doorway. “Katara… It’s me…” He’s speaking again, softer now, slower, and her heart skips a beat in her chest. Only then does she sit upright, turning her head so she might stare into the face of the masked man, wondering just how this could be happening. 

He can’t believe his eyes.

There she sits before him, a ghost of the girl he recalls, so very different from who he remembers her to be. But, her brilliantly blue eyes have the very same penetrating gaze he knew so well and her dark hair falls long down her back in the same way hers once did. After all this time, he’d found her. It takes every ounce of his self control not to rush to her side, to take her into his arms and whisk her away from this place. But he can see from the sight of her that she’s terrified, that she’s injured, and fuck is she skinny. Always slim and well built, she’s little more than a skeleton it seems from how her tunic hangs from her limbs. White hot anger surges through him, but Zuko knows that now is not the time for that. His feelings could and would certainly come later, but right now his focus had to be on getting her out of this place alive. “It’s okay, Katara, I’m here…” He whispers, holding out a hand to her, though he spares one glance over a shoulder, listening intently for any sign that he’s been discovered. So far, so good. “I’m here to help you.” He knows that from this moment on, she would need him and he vows right then and there to himself that he would never let her down. 

She sucks in a breath, hesitant, still yet unable to believe that this could be real. But when Zuko outstretched a hand for her to take, she’s reminded of a memory so long ago, when he’d once done the very same thing to her. “Zuko…” Her voice cracks over the once familiar syllables of his name, her blue eyes widening ever so slightly. As she reaches out her hand, hesitantly at first, she watches him push back the mask he wears with his other hand; golden eyes stare back at her. As her hand slips into his, a shiver races the length of her spine and suddenly she knows, suddenly, that flicker of hope she’d felt at the sight of him before becomes ignited. 

Carefully, slowly, gently, he draws her up off the cot and onto her feet, steadying her where she stands before he envelops her into his warm embrace. Now that he holds her, he can feel how frail she’s truly become and his heart turns over. She sinks into him, her own arms wrapping around his waist as she breathes in his scent that even after all this time is familiar to her. “It really is you…” She whispers, burying her face into his chest as he holds on as tightly as he dares, fearful of hurting her any further. 

But when he draws back to hold her at arm’s length, he swallows against the rising tide of emotions, forcing himself to keep his face passive as he stares at her. He can see a cut that’s half healed over her left eye, her right cheek bruised, her lips showing signs of once being punched. “I’m getting you out of here,” he says as he turns away, dropping down to his hunches before her, gesturing for her to climb onto his back. When she doesn’t move right away, he smiles, reaching for her hand to give it a tender squeeze. “Come on…” He murmurs and finally, she moves, climbing onto his back as he wants, allowing his arms to sweep beneath her frame, holding her into place. She’s struck by the memory of doing this very same thing with Sokka and their father and tears glisten in her eyes as she once again wonders what has become of those she loved on the outside.

Returning his mask into place, Zuko steps out into the dark corridor, thankful to find it’s still empty. They make their way down the hall and turn a corner, hearing for the first time any sign of another person around. He steps into the closest empty room and Katara holds her breath as the sound of approaching footsteps grow louder. It’s two guards coming, talking about a recent outburst of their Phoenix King- “.... Fire to all of the curtains…” one is saying as they pass the room they hide within, taking the corner that they’d just come around. His heart skips a beat and Zuko prays to whatever God is listening that they were not on their way to check in on her… But their footsteps fade away and only then does he return to the hall and begin to run.

They make their way through the winding corridors until they come to a dead end, making Katara wonder if he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. But, to her shock, there comes a noise to their left and she’s turning her head to watch as a panel of the wall begins to shift, revealing an old man standing there, a small flame glowing in his palm. She knew him at once, it was Zuko’s uncle Iroh. “Come quickly,” he says and they slip through, Iroh replacing the panel as if it had never been moved at all. “It’s safe, they are all quite distracted with the council meeting,” he continues, giving her a little indication as to why they’d chosen today of all days to come to her as they have. “But let’s not press our luck.” 

Together, they walk the long pathway of this dark corridor, the only light that of Iroh’s flame. But as they reach the end, he steps forward, pushing what she sees to be a large boulder aside, giving them a place to exit. And then, for the first time since the day she was captured, she realizes she’s outside. Hissing in pain, the sunlight so bright, she buries her face in Zuko’s shoulder, wishing for the darkness she’d grown to know for just a split second.

“Let’s get her back,” Zuko says and Iroh nods, taking note of the girl’s appearance; it was worse than he had expected, but she was alive and for that he was thankful. 

Only now, as they walk away from the place that’s been her prison all this time, she feels safe. And that was when she allowed the suddenly overwhelming sense of exhaustion take hold and with her head resting against Zuko’s strong shoulder, she drifted off to sleep. 

[ x x x ]

When she wakes, it’s in a strange place, but it’s in a bed- a real bed. 

Suddenly, it’s all coming back to her now, the memory of the masked man coming to her rescue…  But not just any man, it had been Zuko who came to save her. Her hands rise up simply so they can run over the length of her face, her heartbeat quickening in her chest as she recalls the memories of that night, of that moment. She then makes the first attempt at sitting up, but finds there’s a weight over her legs which prevents her from making it very far. A slow smile spreads over her face at the sight of Zuko there, asleep and draped over her legs, his dark hair falling into his face as he snores softly. 

But then, as if attuned to her being, he’s waking, golden eyes blinking open before he’s surging forward, shocked and relieved at the same time. “Katara!” He nearly shouts her name as he comes to the head of the bed, helping her up into a sitting position against the pillows. “How are you feeling? Can I get you something?” He looks as if he’s not slept in days or more, shocking her, forcing her to wonder just how long it’s been since he came to rescue her from the dungeon. 

“Water,” she rasps, realizing a moment later just how dry her throat has become. Zuko is on the move then, pouring her a cup from a pitcher on the side table and he himself presses it to her lips, carefully tipping it back to give her a small sip. The taste is more refreshing than she ever recalls the taste to be and it floods her with a strange sensation. “Thank you,” she says next, turning to look at him as he settles into place in the chair he once occupied. “How long…” The words die on her lips and Zuko knows she isn’t asking how long they’ve been here.

“Six months,” he says softly, knowing better than to ever lie to her. He watches as that realization dawns upon her and she accepts it willingly, perhaps a part of her had always known it had been a long time. 

“How did you find me?” She asks next, tilting her head as she stares at him. 

“My uncle,” he admits, thinking of the dozens if not hundreds of conversations they’d had about the situation. “I came here looking for him after you’d been taken, like most everyone else, we’d gone off on our own or been separated.” Zuko recalls those days as if they’d been yesterday; days of wandering alone, without reason, without purpose, lost and alone. In those first few days after they’d lost the fight and Aang, Zuko had thought about giving up. But it had been Katara to touch his hand and remind him that there was still something to fight for. There was a reason to live. So, they had fought on the best that they could, until that last fight that had left them separated. Then he’d gotten word about Katara… His only thought had been to find her, to save her, but try as he might he could get no leads. That was until he’d found his uncle. “He’s been hiding here in plain sight this whole time,” he gestures around, as if there were more to this place beyond the four walls they reside within. 

“And no one turns him in?” Katara asks, surprised. 

“No one here knows him,” Zuko admits with a shake of his head. “And those who do would never turn him in.” Here in the poorest part of the Fire Nation, there is little love for the Phoenix King and his ideals. “He’s running a tea shop.” To his surprise, and delight, she smiles, thinking of the kind-hearted Iroh serving tea to the poorest of his nation’s inhabitants. “He was the one who said you must surely be at the palace.” The rest was history. After many weeks, no months, of planning, they had found their way into the palace and thus, found her. “You should rest…” he says next, noticing her pallor, noticing her pain. 

Katara smiles again, but she doesn’t fight him as she once might have. 

“I’ll come back later,” he assures her as he helps her back against the pillows, drawing the blankets up and over her frame. He turns to go, because he knows she needs the time, the space. “Sleep well,” he says softly, turning back to her, but finds she’s already drifted off back to sleep, bringing a small smile to his face. He slips from the room, leaving the door cracked open, so he or his uncle might hear her should she need something. 

“She woke?” 

It is his uncle there, a tray of tea in his hands. Zuko nods and the older man breaks out in a grin, delighted by the news. “Now, you must go and rest yourself, nephew.” Zuko opens his mouth to protest, but Iroh won’t hear a word of it. “No need, I will take care of her should she wake again,” he won’t allow his nephew to fall ill himself simply out of worry for the girl. “Go on now, I’ll wake you if we need you,” but they certainly would not need him. For a long moment they remain as they are, Zuko casting his gaze back towards the door that separates him from her.  “She needs you to be well rested, Zuko,” his uncle says softly, the only words that could ever make him change his mind. Only then does he nod, pausing for one moment to put his hand to his uncle’s shoulder, their twin colored eyes meeting for a long moment. Then he was gone, disappearing into the other room, once which he’d not occupied since returning with Katara some days ago.

As he climbs into his own bed, he rolls onto his side so he can face the only wall that separates them. He hopes, as he draws the blankets around him, that she sleeps soundly, that when he wakes next he will find her smiling, just as she always did. His eyes close and he drifts off, his last waking thought that of her blue eyes and just how brightly they once shined.

He would get that shine back if it was the last thing he did.

#zutara #zuko x katara #my writing #i wrote this #atla fanfic

[asongstress1422]

Welcome Katara

Zutara Fanfic -- Part 4

Summary: Katara was taken to the Northern Water Tribe by her grandmother; she was to be protected at all cost, for she was the last of the Southern Water. Once they got there, the North refused to teach her trying to strip her of her worth and turn her into what they wanted, a calm biddable healer to birth the next generation. They failed. And so as punishment they sent her to be a political bride to the Fire Nation.   Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  AO3

Zuko’s week reprieve leading up to the official start of the brideathon was short lived. He met countless times with his council, hammering out last minute details before his time would be consumed by spouse hunting. There were still things that would require his personal attention but the majority of the day-to-days could be entrusted to his uncle and Zuko’s assistant, Takumi.

The nation needed for him to find a wife to get an heir and create the illusion of stability if nothing else so he would find a wife. But he was determined to find a woman that would help him shape the future he needed to create where his people would not slide into obscurity because they tried for peace instead of war.

Zuko understood why his uncle had invited brides from other nations, extending a peaceful hand was the only option after the decades of war. That so many noble earth kingdom families had made the trip was promising but Agni he wished he didn’t have to go through with it. He didn’t like to needlessly hurt people and having all these women here he knew most would leave with bruised egos if not hurt feelings.  

An hour before the opening ceremony was to begin, Zuko stood in front of a mirror pulling on the last layer of his Court Robes preparing himself to run through the gauntlet of women vying for the position of his wife.

Things were so much easier, he thought with a sigh as he tied the twelve decorative sashes around his waist, when all he had to worry about was when he father was going to turn on him. Back then he was already betrothed and while he didn’t trust Mai, she was a known entity in the political game that was the Fire Nation; predictable in the sense that she would be out for her own best interests.

Now everything was changed, not the least of which was himself.

Zuko fingered the raised, leathery flesh of his scar remembering the scolding pain as his face and ear burned. He remembered sitting in that hospital bed, the entire left side of his face bandaged, as his father entered. For a moment Zuko had though the his father had come to apologies, that he had come to check on how his son was doing.

But no. He had come to berated him for losing. For disgracing his place as heir and tarnishing the honor of the Fire Lord. It didn't matter that the one who had superseded him was his sister, a renown prodigy.

Hard as it was with her blow etched into his face Zuko tried not to think of his sister as all that was left was painful memories. He had both loved, hated, and feared her as she was a better fire bender then he was and better at playing the game they were both forced into by the nature of their births. He thought himself ruthless enough but when faced against Azula in an Agni Kai, he had hesitated and she had not.

Spirits, she was his little sister, the one person he would have killed anyone to protect and his father had sicced them on each other like beasts. He still remembered the look on her face as he withered on the ground, remembered her gazing up at Ozai so desperate for his approval that she didn’t eve care what she had done.

That was the last time he has seen seen her.

To regain the honor that had been stripped from him, Fire Lord Ozai had banished his son before the scabs had even had a chance to form over his wounds. Forbidden his nation and his birth right until he could prove himself by retrieving the avatar or until his scar, the taint of his loss, faded away completely.

Yet here Zuko stood, scar still prominent on his face and the Avatar still nothing more than a myth, two months until his twenty first year of birth where he would be crowned Fire Lord. It wasn’t worth all that he lost but he would damn well make a better future then the ash covered one that his derange father wanted to leave.

There was a knock at the door and Takumi stepped in with a bow. “My Prince.”

“Yes?” Zuko demanded as he pulled his hair up in the customary topknot sliding the golden fire insignia into place.

“Quite a few of the guests are already gathering.” There was a slight note of panic in the man’s voice.

“And?” Zuko hefted the leather mantle and secured it around his neck. Typically he left it off as it was more bother then it was worth as the rigid material made it difficult to traverse through doorways. At least he could get away with this one during these simi-formal gatherings, the one for ceremonial occasions was made of iron and gold and weight close to twenty pounds.

“The Regent is in the kitchen supervising preparation for the banquet in the kitchen.”

Debating tea with Regina , no doubt , Zuko rolled his eyes. His uncle and the dessert-apprentice-turn-head-cook had hit it off remarkably well when they had returned back to the palace just over a year ago and had grown quite close since.  

Zuko sighed understanding Takumi’s panic, “so there is no one to greet guests?”

“Correct, My Prince. Several of the Lords have questioned where the hosts are.”

“We’ll head over now,” he cast one more glance at the mirror, lingering a second too long on his scar. There was nothing he could do to fix it but if he had to live with it any woman who married him would have to as well. He turned away marching through the doors, Takumi at his heels. “You have the list of guests memorized?”

“Yes, My Prince. Names and hobbies of the candidates, as well as all families of note down to the great-aunts that have brought grand-nieces.”

“Very good. Stay close to me and we may just get through this in one piece.” Zuko took a deep breath as he came to the huge double doors of the Banquet Hall. On the other side his future Fire Lady waited. All he had to do was find her and not create a global incident by slighting any of the other prominent families that were showing off very marriageable daughters.

He let the breath out slowly, just like his uncle had taught him, centering himself.

“If I may be so bold, My Prince,” Takumi interrupted in a deferring voice. “You look every inch the Heir to the Fire Nation.”

Zuko nodded this thanks, bolstered by the kind words. “Introduce me.”

Takumi tapped  twice on the door, softly, then scurried to the side where he would be out of sight as they swung open wide.  The herald, who had been standing just to the right of the doors waiting for the signal, tapped his staff on the marble floor twice before called out strongly, “Heir to the Fire Nation. Son of Fire Lord Ozai. Nephew to Regent Fire Lord Iroh. Great grandson of Avatar Roku. Now enters Crown Prince Zuko.”  

The whole room turned as one to watch as Zuke marched confidently in. On the inside he was shaking.

“Welcome, distinguished guests. I thank you for making the journey to be here tonight. As we all know I will be coronated in two months time and when I ascend to my throne I will do so with a Fire Lady at my side. As I have not met her yet, it is my hope they she is here tonight. Over the next several weeks I will meet with many of you, to learn from each other and share our ideas. Let us now enter a era of peace between all nations.” He held up the glass that Takumi slipped into his hand; sweet punch, for as much as he would love a glass of wine to calm himself, he needed his head about him tonight. “To the forging of new and lasting bonds.”

The room echoed his sentiments as he took a sip.

“Please, everyone, enjoy yourselves.” With a final salute with the goblet Zuko dispersed everyone back to mingling as he made his way down the entry stairs.

Immediately a man broke off from the group he was talking to, making straight for Zuko, all but dragging a young woman behind him. Earth nation by his clothes.

Takumi stepped forward as the couple drew closer, whispered in Zuko’s ear, “Lord Durjaya, jewel mines in the Dong region. Official candidate, Lady Mirri, flower arranging, pet komodo-cat JuJu.”

There wasn’t enough time to say more but it was enough to jog Zuko’s memory on The List, the detailed information they had created on all the attendees. Lord Durajay, a merchant that had inherited the Family Title twelve years ago when an uncle had die with no sons. He had turn the Durjaya Mines from the raw distributors they were into the prospering business it was now.

Besides this daughter he had brought along her two younger sisters, as well as three female cousins and a whole pack of others including his wife, several aunts and a covey of personal servants. It was well know that Lord Durajay ran his business with an iron hand, but it was Lady Durajay that ruled the home and it was little surprise that she wanted her daughter married to the earth nation equivalent of a king.

“Lord Durajay.” Zuko greeted with a respectful bow. He may only be in jewels but he was well known in the iron community and had connections that could prove invaluable to the fire nation's future.

“Crown Prince, may I introduce you to my daughter....”

And so it began.

A hour in and Zuko was all but begging to the Spirits for the dinner bell. If he hadn’t met every candidate, he was coming very close. He had to be. He knew he had met some sisters or cousins or other female relations several times removed but he had to be almost done. They were all starting to blend together, the earth nation names rolling into one another. He had to have met three women named Hua. The fire nation women were at least a little easier to remember and distinguish from each other. Names and families he knew if he did not know the candidates themselves on some small level.

As if on cue the leader of the only other nation in attendance walked up to him as if they were old friends instead of once bitter enemies. “Prince Zuko.”

“Chief Arnook,” Zuko returned a bit more formally.

“Come, let me introduce you to the North’s candidate.” He pulled him through the crowd with an arm across his shoulders.

“I was surprised to find out you only brought one woman for the candidacy,” Zuko put in carefully.

The cagey old fox-hawk smiled benignly at him, “well, when you have the perfect bloom, you do not hide it in a bouquet.” He stopped before the group of other tribes men, all dressed in the deep blues customary for their culture. “Prince Zuko, may I introduce you to Katara of the Northern Tribe.”

The man gestured and the rest parted to frame a woman in a scarlet hanfu with plum and pale pink lotus stitching and the under wrap of dark mulberry. The only thing that conveyed that she was water tribe was the duskiness of her skin and the brilliant blue of her eyes.

The blue eyes he would have swore belonged to a girl feeding turtle ducks named Kaszka.

She bowed, perfectly correct, to him. “Fire Prince.”

“Lady Katara.” He returned pleasantly as rage burned in him. How dare she lie to him. She and her people must have had a great laugh at his expense. “It’s lovely to finally know the name of such a beautiful woman. I hope you or enjoying your stay in the fire capital?”

She hummed a non-committal reply. For a minute he though she was looking at his scar, just as every other woman he had talked to this night. It was jolting to realize her eyes were dead locked with his.

“She is enjoying her stay immensely, Prince Zuko.” Annoke spoke up when it became apparent to all that that was all she had to voice on the subject. “She especially loves your ornamental gardens. So very different from the plants that grow back home. And the cuisine, is that not right Katara?”

“It is spicy.” She said blandly but her looked spoke volumes. He could tell there was a differentiation between her words and what her eyes said but Zuko was having trouble translating.

Before he could demand the clear answer from her the announcement of dinner rang over the crowd.

“Would you look at that,” Chief Arnook chimed, loudly enough that some of the other guest turned to look, “Prince Zuko, would you be so good as to lead Katara into the dinning hall.”

“Of course.” He was well and truly trapped. As the highest ranking male it was his job to guide the woman and yet he wanted her as far away from him as he could get her. But he smiled and offered his arm to Lady Katara. “If you would please follow me?”

She looked at his offered arm as if it was a pile of shit in her path and it took a sharp nudge of one of the men behind her to push her forward into taking it.

“Still feeding the turtle ducks Kaska, ” he hissed nearly silently down at her as they drifted with the crowd to the second room. It he hadn’t been looking for an reaction he would have missed it, half a flickering look with anger burning in her eyes but she did not make a reply. What right did she had to be angry? He was the one being laughed at.

As they walked he could feel hundreds of glares pointed at the woman on his arm. Good, she deserved to feel their open animosity when he could not give into his own. She had to have notice but gave it no acknowledgement, simply marched beside him with her head held high face blank and touch as light on his arm as she could manage and still have it look as if he lead her.

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh was waiting for him just inside the dining hall doors. He smiled kindly at the woman on his arm, “ And Lady Katara, may I say you look lovely tonight? The colors really bring out the richness of your skin and make a lovely contrast with your eyes.”

Real warmth flooded her face and with a almost smile she thanked him.

“Uncle, where have you been?” Zuke growled at the older man, angry for him having left him to the wolves for over an hour while he sipped tea. He didn’t notice the woman on his arm start.

“'Uncle',” she whispered horrified, her skin losing that 'richness'. “You are the Fire Lord?”

Iroh turned another gentle smile her way, “yes, dear. For the next few months until my nephew takes the responsibility and I can go back to enjoying tea.”

Her grip on Zuko’s arm tightened painfully and he looked down at her with a frown, disconcerted with the strange urge to shield her that he quickly pushed aside.

“Will you be sitting with us, Lady Katara,” Iroh asked.

“Uncle,” Zuko hissed eyes flying to make sure no one had overheard him or he'd be stuck with her all night. “I don’t--”

“No,” she interrupted dropping Zuko’s arm as if it had burned her. “I will sit with my people. Good eve, Fire Price.” She dipped a shallow curtsy, seeming to hesitate as she did the same for his Uncle. “Fire ... Lord.”

Without another word she turned and rejoined her group that we’re seated across the room.

Zuko sighed, in relief, but caught his uncle staring after her. “Uncle? What is it?”

“Nothing.” Iroh shook his head, dislodging his pensive thoughts, and smiled up at his nephew affectionately. “Come, let us enjoy this meal. ‘Gina has outdone herself.”

#bride from the water tribe #bride of the water tribe #zutara fanfiction #zutara #mine #my fanfiction #fanfic #me #ao3

[araeph]

Defiance, Part 8

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7]

Summary: Katara never thought she’d take shelter from the Water Tribe in the Fire Nation. Zuko never thought he’d build a life with someone he is only supposed to be seeing for fun. And neither one knows just how close their countries are to self-destruction.

[For Zutara month, Day 8, “Spice”] 

Katara prided herself on her swimming skills, but the eelhound certainly would give her a run for her money, even including waterbending. It’s a shame they’re cold-blooded, she thought as her ride zipped across the open water toward the heart of the Fire Nation. Dad would love to speed through the ocean like this!

She clung with her knees, the way she remembered doing as a girl when she was still small enough to ride the penguins. Everything from her waist down was below the water line, but the ocean was so warm here, it would have been enjoyable even if she weren’t inured to the cold. By and by, she sneaked a glance at the Blue Spirit, as he apparently preferred to be called. His attention was fixed on guiding the eelhound, though one hand still lay steady on her waist. They were definitely making good time, but there was no reason for her not to help out a bit.

Bringing her hands out to the sides, she made a scooping motion and plunged them into the water. Every few seconds, she repeated the gesture on either side of her.

A stifled laugh vibrated from the Blue Spirit’s chest. Katara couldn’t blame him; it must look like she was trying to dog paddle her way to the main island.

“Having fun?” he asked.

She splashed him affectionately. “Someone has to.”

“Hey!” He spluttered. “You just had a run-in with pirates, and I narrowly escaped assassination. I’m already overdue back home, and you just lost—” he stopped himself. “I’m sorry.”

“I lost my scroll,” she finished resolutely. “And you know what else? It’s a beautiful sunny day, and I haven’t seen water so blue before, and I’m on the back of a creature I never thought I’d see in my life.” She patted the eelhound, who made a series of soft clicking noises in response. “Just because bad things happen to you doesn’t mean you can’t make a good life. And you are lucky enough to be riding with someone who can cook you the best fried sunfish you’ve ever tasted. Once we get to shore, I’ll get a fire started and then we’ll eat.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, after spending hours fishing. I can’t afford that.”

“Who said anything about hours?” She trailed a handful of dazzling clear drops behind the movement of her hand. “I’m Water Tribe, and there are boatloads of fish in these currents. I wouldn’t be a grown woman if I couldn’t provide a meal for us while we were on the move.” She broke the rhythm of her bending to tuck a hair back from where the breeze had blown it free. “Unless you have to leave right after we make landfall.”

A heavy sigh resonated through him and the arm holding the reins dropped slightly. “Unless you’re the fastest fisher I’ve ever seen, I’m going to have to pass on that.”

Katara turned her head away to hide a smirk. “Sounds like a challenge.”

***

Whatever she had expected the Fire Nation to be, this wasn’t it. Katara had built her dreams on visions of fiery lava spewing forth from volcanoes and a sky choked with ash, the way it had been in her homeland when the Raiders came. This … this was an alien land, but it wasn’t hostile. The sun was sharp and blazed along her skin wherever it touched her, but it was also gentled by the greenery which enclosed the inlet that their tiny sailboat bumped against when they reached the shore.

Katara lifted her face skyward. It was warm out, but also hazy. Water rested, untouched, in the air; water soaked into the clumpy black earth; water dripped from flower to flower in the form of dew and nectar. She was right, too: they’d made good time, and had an hour to spare in order to prepare their dinner.

As soon as his footsteps receded, Katara wrangled the first big fish she saw out of the water—a bright flailing sunfish that startled her with its iridescence. Then she whisked two smaller fish from the waves and dropped them at the eelhound’s feet, whispering to the creature to keep it a secret between them before she secured his harness to a nearby tree.

By the time she’d made it to the clearing he’d picked out, the Blue Spirit had coaxed a fire into life. He held out his hand for the fish, but Katara shook her head and insisted on cleaning it herself.

(“Unless you want your throwing knives to smell?”

“All right, all right!”)

The crackling fire provided more conversation than they did, at first. Between smooth, even strokes of her knife, Katara caught herself stealing looks at his mask, but didn’t know what to say to him. Is this where they parted ways? Thanks for saving me, off I go? There was so much more she wanted to know about him—and about why she had been able to see him, inside and out, with her waterbending under the moon.

Finally he interrupted her thoughts. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“When you were yelling at me this morning. Look, I know my people have done some awful things to you and yours, but it was just so—out of the blue. Did I offend you or something?”

“Well, look who’s talkative all of a sudden,” she said without looking up. The lack of response told her he was still waiting. “It wasn’t you,” she admitted. “Really. It’s just that I’ve been put in a really difficult position lately, and maybe it wouldn’t have happened except that—you know.”

“Except the Fire Nation attacked.” Taking a heated flat stone from the fire, he held out his hand again and Katara slid the fish onto it gingerly. “I’ve heard it before. And we’re trying to make up for it. But it hasn’t been easy when no one will give us a chance.”

“What do you mean, like when?”

He shrugged. “The Earth Kingdom cities won’t let up on their rice tariffs. If we didn’t provide them with coal and oil, there would be mass starvation by now. The Air Nomads are gone, and no one’s been able to find a way to bring them back. Even the Avatar left us by never being reborn.” There was something wistful in his voice and Katara wondered where it had come from. “The Northern Water Tribe won’t stop hammering us for more reparations, and with no political inroads into the South, we have no way of knowing if they’re even reaching their intended recipients.” He scowled. “Maybe you have something to say about that?”

An ice-cold shiver went up her spine. “What reparations? I’ve never heard anything about them.”

“Well, you probably haven’t,” and she could just tell he was eyeing her sun-faded tunic and leggings, “but I hardly think Chief Arnook missed a dozen ironclads bringing gifts to his harbor. Anyway, even if they’re not getting through to the South, we still owe the Northern Water Tribe, too.”

“I’m not from the north.” She rose up and briskly turned the fish over in the fire. “I’m not even part of the delegation.” Before he could ask, she added, “And no, I’m not ready to talk about it.” She motioned to his mask. “You have secrets, and I have mine. But the thing that brought me here … it’s a Water Tribe thing. Not a Fire Nation problem. So you can rest easy, Blue Spirit. I won’t fight you unless you force me to.”

He nodded, refusing to dismiss her fighting skills as quickly as he’d dismissed her manner of dress. He might be a bit snobbish, but he didn’t discount her because she was a woman. It filled her an odd kind of relief, like a band relaxing around her ribcage.

A rustling sound made her whirl around, but it was only the eelhound, its reins a sodden, destroyed mess dragging behind it. It sidled up to Katara, as if trying to curry favor.

“What—what the—” Katara put her hands on her hips. “I tied your knots good and tight, mister!”

“It’s a female,” said the Blue Spirit. “And it probably just climbed the tree and stripped the branches off until it could slip the lead over the trunk. They’re very intelligent; you’re lucky it likes you.” He paused. “I probably should have warned you about that.”

“Who care? It’s amazing,” said Katara, peering into the topaz eyes of the eelhound. “Can I name her?”

“No!”

***

Katara decided to name the eelhound Click-Click, for the sounds it made when she fed it fish scraps after they’d had their dinner. The Blue Spirit vigorously objected, pointing out that they would have to trade her in for something less flamboyant if they wanted to avoid detection in the Caldera. Since they were having this argument atop said eelhound, Katara got to call it Click-Click a few more times before she reluctantly agreed. Still, she made him promise to give Click-Click a nice home and to see if she could come visit sometime. She smirked at the exasperated sound that followed. It was just so entertaining to tease him.

But when she arrived at Caldera City, she slipped off the saddle without a word, mouth open in awe.

I’ve made it. I’ve really made it!

She knew the Fire Nation was more advanced than the Water Tribe, having seen their ships and perused the marketplace on Ember Island, but she’d never have been able to envision the sheer complexity on her own. The citizens of the Caldera swarmed around her, silk of glaring red and muted burgundy hanging impeccably from their tall, wiry frames. Every so often she caught a gleam of gold in the eyes around her, usually from the men and women who were trailed by a retinue of servants.

Katara wiggled her foot across one of the clean-swept bricks in the road. It fit seamlessly in with its brothers and glared white in the mid-afternoon sun. Gold tipped the points on the rooftops and metal dragons stood guard over the doors with buffed, gleaming handles. Every hat she saw was slightly different, with the exception of what seemed to be a regiment of schoolchildren in uniform. They marched passed her, most barely deigning to look her way, although a few of them were too young or to curious to refrain from turning their heads. Katara was oddly reminded of the flock of penguins that had interrupted her walk on her last night at home.

A whiff of something pungent and sweet caught her off-guard.

“Ahh … ahh-choo!” 

Several people stopped to look at her. Katara covered her nose and turned from one highly offended face to the other. She felt her cheeks heat.

“Well, it’s not my fault!” she said. “It’s not as if I ahh ah-CHOO!”

There was the sound of a dozen slippered feet scuttling back. When Katara’s eyes opened again, she felt an odd emptiness to her right. Instinctively, she turned around.

The Blue Spirit was gone! He and the eelhound had vanished as if they’d never been there.

“Hey!” she said indignantly, hands on her hips. “You can’t just ditch me!” Her gaze swung from one bone-white face to the next, seeking the familiarity of the blue mask in a sea of strangeness. “Look, I know you’re here. ANSWER ME!”

More city dwellers began inching away, and Katara had to refrain from sneezing a third time. This time, there was another scent mingling with the first—a sharp, aromatic tang that she couldn’t quite place.

Abruptly, she felt a tug at her elbow. Katara barely caught sight of a scarlet cloak before she was not-so-gently escorted to a side street. She still couldn’t see his face, but his indignant huffs were all she needed to discern the man’s identity.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” the Blue Spirit muttered, now under a hood of red. “I was finding a safe place for the eelhound, like you wanted.”

Another time, she would have taken exception to that; now, her curiosity outweighed her pique at being thought of as an annoyance. “What was that—those strange smells?” She pointed to a building with ornate lattice windows and a heavily embroidered curtain in front of the door. “They were coming from inside there.”

“Cardamom,” said her companion. “And purple pepper, which our ancestors brought over from the Sun Warriors. We use them to season our food.” The Blue Spirit sniffed the air. “Cloves, too. For clearing the air, getting rid of bugs.”

“There are more bugs?” Katara wrinkled her nose. “Back home, we only had a few arctic worms we’d use for bait. But they were difficult to find.”

He snorted. “Get used to it. Mosquito-flies, dung roaches, and spider snakes, not to mention three-tailed scorpions. Which reminds me, make sure to check your shoes before you put them on for the day. The smaller the scorpions are, the nastier, and they love to nest in your boots.”

The hood half-turned in her direction and paused. “Feel like going home yet?”

“Not even a little.” She nudged him. “Not that I’d mind knowing where you’re taking me.”

“Someplace safe. It’s, uh, a little out of the way, though.” Her companion shifted his weight—odd, since he was usually so light on his feet. “Um. How comfortable are you with being not in the most, uh, refined part of town?”

“Okay, look, Spirit. Just because I don’t flaunt the latest fashion—”

“That’s not what I meant!” A pale forearm snaked out to tug the hood down farther. “I meant that the area of town we’re going to isn’t … how do I put this …”

But as they were walking, Katara had taken in the abundance of flashy lanterns, incense and furtive looks of some of the men who hastened through beaded curtain doorways. She knew perfectly well where they were heading. “Isn’t exactly respectable?” she offered with a smirk. “We’re in the red lantern district, aren’t we? At least that’s what they call it in the Earth Kingdom.”

He stiffened and tried to whirl around, but stopped himself halfway through and faced away from her. “How did you know? I, I mean, if you do know, that’s none of my business. I just didn’t think that you, I mean you don’t wear makeup or anything, but you’re certainly beautiful enough … ”

She couldn’t help it; she burst into a fit of laughter.

The billowed cloak only slightly muffled his indignation. “It’s not funny!”

“Oh, yes, it is. And by the way, I was on a pirate ship, Spirit,” she reminded him. “I spent weeks working with lowlifes who visited every pleasure house and seedy tavern that they possibly could.”

He seemed to be tilting his head in contemplation. “But how did you protect yourself? It’s not like you had bodyguards. There are men on these streets who would kidnap you in a heartbeat.”

“I wore a disguise. Kind of like you. It was just some old scraps of fabric, but it protected me.” And other people, too, she added silently. There’d been a mugging or two she’d stopped before the thieves knew what hit them, though she knew all too well how little experience she had in a fight. She’d left the costume on the pirate ship and for a moment wished she hadn’t. 

But Katara was enjoying his discomfiture too much to dwell on her past. She pointed to a wheel of stone pomegranates that decorated the doorway of one of the establishments. “Look, seven. That’s how many men they keep on retainer. And the knotted tassels hanging from that window—”

There was a slight choking sound from beneath the hood. “I don’t want to know.”

“Well, then you shouldn’t have brought me to such an interesting place.” She regarded the scarlet hood thoughtfully. “You seem more weirded out than I am.”

“I don’t go here if I can help it. I mean, these days I have, but not to, uh, stay overnight. More to survey—in preparation for—things.” He sighed. “It’s complicated. I have to investigate beforehand, and fun is the last thing on my mind. See, in the position I’m in, I have to be careful. Who I’m with. When I’m with them. What the consequences are. And even if it’s only temporary, I have to know who I’m dealing with.”

“Hmm.” She surveyed the nearly empty street. “It’s kind of missing the point then, don’t you think?”

“Huh?”

She gestured around her. “This. We don’t have anything like this in the Water Tribe; each family keeps to its own. But from what I hear, these establishments are supposed to be for enjoyment and relaxation.”

“So … ”

“So, Spirit, are you having fun doing your little investigations? Is it relaxing, vetting every single person you come across?” The thought irritated her for some reason. “Why don’t you just get to know the person you’re with, and then go for it? Or at least have a genuine good time with them, like friends.”

He started. “Friends? I can’t go looking for friends!”

“Why, is it against some rigid Fire Nation statute?” She pursed her lips, ignoring the thirst that was beginning to build from the heat of the afternoon. “Look, we can make it simple. When was the last time you had fun? Actual, laugh-out-loud fun?”

“I …” he trailed off. “I don’t remember. Maybe you’re better at it than I am.”

That left Katara at a loss. For a while, she simply leaned against a street corner, watching the passersby. A gentle breeze wafted the air, carrying the last remnants of the foreign aromas. Overhead, a hawk circled into the eye of the sun.

“No,” she said softly at last. “I’m not really good at it. At all. My brother is the goofy one. I always feel like I have to be the parent around him. And my mom—” her voice grew shaky. “My mom wouldn’t have wanted him to grow up all serious, so I had to be. I knew what could happen. My dad used to laugh a lot more than he does now, and, well ... Sokka should stay the way he is.”

He drew closer, so their arms were just pressed together. “When was the last time you had fun, Katara? Actual, genuine fun?”

It had been when she was waterbending, but Katara wasn’t willing to admit it. It was a necessity revealing what she was to the pirates, but alone in the Fire Nation, she wasn’t going to take the risk. “Swimming,” she decided to say instead. It was the truth, sort of. “The waters around my tribe will freeze you to death, but we can still swim if we cover ourselves in animal fat and keep it short. Here, I was able to swim all the way to the dock in my clothes! The water is so lovely and clear … ” she made a sigh of contentment.

“You’d like it,” he said, “back on Ember Island. The water stays warm year-round, and if you rent one of the beach houses, you can fall asleep to the sound of the sea. There are plenty of things to do around town, too—it’s not just markets. There are street performers and a theater that my mom used to take us to.”

“Theater?” Katara turned to face him. “What’s that like? Is that where you got your mask?”

He involuntarily put a hand to the shadows that shrouded his face. “I made my mask, I didn’t buy it. You … you’ve never been to the theater before?”

She shook her head wordlessly.

He reached out and took hold of her arm. “There’s one nearby, about five blocks away.” He cleared his throat. “Wait. Wait, I should—” he relinquished his hold and held out a hand instead. “Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, it would be a great honor for you to accompany me to the theater.” He stiffened. “I mean, for me to accompany you! We’d have to go in disguise, but I think it would be really fun and maybe I could steal a mask for you and come back and pay for it later.”

She nodded, hoping that would put an end to the monologue that she could tell was mortifying him more with each passing second. Sadly, it wasn’t enough.

“We, we can stop and get some food so your stomach doesn’t growl like it was doing earlier?”

She gave him a look.

“R…right…” he trailed off. “Sorry. I’ll just—”

Katara reached out and took his still-outstretched hand. “It’s okay, Spirit,” she said. “You’re right, I’m hungry. Just promise me you can take me someplace where I won’t burn the roof of my mouth off.” She felt a smile begin to form. “And I’d be happy to go to the theater with you.”

“Good. That’s--good. I’ll show you to an inn tonight and pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”

He raised his head, and for just a fraction of a second, she caught a glimpse of a pale chin and a bright golden eye before he retreated back into his cloak. Who was this man she was confiding in? Did he have a sordid past? Was he on the run from the law?

She shook off her doubts. He’d had all the opportunity he needed to try and manipulate her, attack her, deceive her … but he hadn’t. And maybe it was just her imagination, but underneath the mysterious blue and white facade, there lay an almost painful awkwardness. He was human, underneath it all.

It works both ways, Katara decided. If he’s trusting me, I will trust him. At least for now.

***

Five minutes later …

“You promised the food wouldn’t be hot!”

“It isn’t!”

#zutara #zutara month 2016 #zk month 2016 #zk month #zutara month