Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Katara always loved when Zuko rested his head in her lap and let her run her fingers through his glorious mane. His hair was dark and shiny like onyx and soft as the finest silk thread. She preferred when he let it flow loose instead of pulling it back into his traditional phoenix plume topknot.
Zuko looked so boyish and vulnerable when drifting off to sleep.
The world saw Zuko as a ruthless brute, an unstoppable warrior in his epaulets and helmet, a human inferno that left nothing but ashes in his wake. Katara would have gone on seeing him that way if he hadn't shown her his unarmoured self: a restless boy struggling against the constraints and expectations forced on him who expired in her lap like a child exhausted after a tantrum.
The name Katara would go down in history as a byword for female faithlessness and treachery. A synonym for temptress, man-eater, and prostitute. Katara scoffed at these accusations. Zuko was the first and only man she'd ever been with, and how could she, a simple girl who eeked out a meager living as a silk weaver, resist a handsome and powerful prince and the luxurious life he offered. When she looked into his smoldering ember eyes, she knew he would be her downfall. Katara hadn't seen much of her family since she'd become an "ashmaker's whore" as her brother Sokka put it. Only her Gran-Gran, who also knew all too well that a woman has few options in this world, kept in touch.
And how could Katara, a Water Tribe refugee whose father, brother, and grandmother risked deportation, say no to the Dai Lee of Ba Sing Se and their all-power master Long Feng? Especially when they offered her 1100 silver coins each: more money than she and her family could hope to see in a lifetime. 
It all began innocently enough—a harmless bedroom game.
"My Lord," Katara said one evening when Zuko was resting his head in her lap. "No one matches your prowess at fire bending, but even a god or spirit can be vulnerable. You must have at least one weakness. Tell me what it is so I can subdue you."
Zuko tossed his head in the direction of Katara's loom, which stood in the opposite corner of the bedroom. "Raw silk. Tie my wrists with six strands of it, and I'll be unable to bend." He smirked and offered Katara his wrists, probably thinking she was trying to initiate another lovers' romp.
Katara rose from the bed to get six strands of raw silk from the workbasket by her loom. She wrapped them around Zuko's wrist and tied them tight enough to cut off his circulation. Maybe it also stopped the flow of his chi and would keep him from being able to bend?

"Zuko, the Dai Lee are upon us," Katara shrieked as if their enemies had surrounded them. 
Zuko's hands ignited, and the silk threads melted away like ice. Katara clapped like a child who'd been amazed by a magic trick. 
"I knew My Lord couldn't be restrained by mere silk." Yes, she was a fool for even considering something so ridiculous. "Surely, it would take something much stronger." 
Yawning contentedly, Zuko settled back into her lap. "Try seven new ropes woven from swamp reeds or eight braided leather cords." 
Katara helped Zuko comb out his glorious hair and pull it back into a phoenix plume the following morning. She kissed him goodbye then went to the market to buy seven new ropes woven from swamp reeds and eight braided leather cords. 
"Zuko says that these are his weaknesses," she told Long Feng when she dropped by the Dai Lee's headquarters to tell him what she'd learned. 
Long Feng stroked his wispy beard and mustache. "Good work, Lady Katara. Will I be paying you and your lord a visit this evening?" 
"If we're receiving visitors, I'll place an oil lamp in our bedroom window facing the street." 

Katara tried again that night with the reed ropes and leather cords, but they were no more effective than the silk threads. Zuko burnt himself free of these restraints as if they were nothing. 
"You no longer love me." Crocodile tears ran down Katara's cheeks. "If you did, you wouldn't keep things from me." 
Zuko dried her eyes with her sleeve. "What am I keeping from you?" 
"I gave up everything for you: my virtue, my family, and my reputation. And yet, you won't confide in me." 
If Katara's mother and grandmother had taught her anything, it was that a woman's tears and guilt were enough to break any man. 
"Fine, my love." Zuko took Katara into his arms. "I'll tell you everything." He held her close and whispered the secret into her ear. 
The phoenix plume topknot is a sacred symbol worn by elite fire benders who vow never to cut their hair. As long as they wear their phoenix plume, the god, Agni, will bless them with the gift of fire bending. 

"If I cut my hair, then I'm completely helpless." 
Zuko rested his head in Katara's lap, as he did countless times before. Then, she took a pair of sheers from her workbasket and cut off his phoenix plume with a single stroke at the root. The silky onyx hair slipped through her fingers. 
Katara pushed Zuko's shorn head from her lap and went to put a lit oil lamp in the window. 

Chapter Text

Zuko pulled his blue and white bandana over his nose. He adjusted the brim of his hat so that it hid his bad eye, the one with the tattle-tale scar. Cocking his rifle, Zuko tossed his head, signaling to his posse that their prey was approaching.
The Painted Lady was sometimes said to stop to water her horse at an acequia ten miles west of Silver City, between the Rha and Aquado ranches. Don Hakoda Aquado and Yon Rha fought over this particular irrigation ditch like two dogs over a bone. Yon Rha claimed that it was on his land and, therefore, the water belonged to him, while Don Hakoda followed the old Spanish custom that an acequia belonged to everyone. But, to Zuko, this acequia's chief asset was the thick clumps of shrubbery that grew along its banks that made good hiding spots for an ambush.

They had a rustler's moon that night. It allowed Zuko and his posse to move around in the dark unseen but extended the same courtesy to the Painted Lady. Zuko could make out a slight female figure leading a horse to the water. However, he heard the Painted Lady before he saw her. She was whistling a tune that he recognized as  O Susanna as she pulled a blue and white woven blanket from her saddlebag and wrapped it around her shoulders. 

"There she is," one of Zuko's posse members said. 

Another posse member joined in with, "And that's the blanket she stole from us." 

Zuko's posse consisted of fellow bandits who made a living by robbing unsuspecting travelers and selling back the stolen goods at double the price. He heard that these "high risk traders" got a taste of their own medicine when a girl with her face painted up like an Indian relieved them of a Pueblo blanket and knew that they shared a common enemy. Why they were so worked up over a blanket, Zuko neither knew nor cared. 

"Take it back if you want," Zuko said. "But the girl is mine." 

The Painted Lady shrieked when the bandits fell in upon her. She turned to flee but ran into Zuko instead. 

Zuko tipped his hat to her. " Buenas noches, Senorita. " 

" Chinga tu madre ," she spat back at him, clawing with her nails like a wild cat. 

It took two bandits to subdue her. One bound her wrists while the other took the pistol and knife she wore at her belt. Her maidenly gasps as they did this hinted that she wasn't used to being man-handled. 
"If you're going to play with the boys." Zuko held the barrel of his rifle to her chin. "You're gonna have to get used to being roughed up a bit."  He didn't want to kill her or even hurt her that much. However, the little hussy deserved to be put in her place. 
Zuko got a better look at her as two bandits tied her to a tree. Her riding bonnet, the only concession she'd made to feminine attire, featured a gauzy white veil that obscured her face. The only feature Zuko could make out was a pair of large blue eyes. Eyes like that, you saw once and never forgot. 

Chapter Text

The poison bubbled under Zuko's skin like lava. His wounds burned at the best of times, but at moments like this, it felt like his entire body was on fire, not just his arm. The only thing that gave him any relief was plunging into cold water.
Agni willing, a stream or pond was nearby.
A sound of unearthly beauty, something like the chiming of temple bells, rang through the trees. Zuko's ears pricked up. The sound lulled him and took his mind off his pain. Its source couldn't possibly be of this world.
Maybe if Zuko followed the sound, he'd find a forest nymph or river spirit who might be able to heal him?
Zuko spurred his horse in the direction of the sound. It brought him to a crystal clear stream that tumbled over rocks covered in thick, green moss. A woman's blue silk dress and brocade traveling cloak hung on the branches of a nearby tree, and a vast straw hat with flowing gauze veils rested atop a boulder.
On a large rock in the middle of the stream, a maiden was combing out her rich brown hair and singing. The cheerful tinkling of the stream accompanied her song. Her wet underthings clung to her full breasts, perky nipples, and narrow waist, her wide hips and shapely legs. Zuko blushed and summoned up all his willpower to keep from staring at her. He would just water his horse, soak his arm in the stream for a moment, and then leave.
With her lovely form and her exquisite, ethereal voice, this maiden could be some sort of fairy and would give Zuko a worse punishment than the poison coursing through his arm if he offended her. But, if not, averting his eyes and letting a lady bathe in privacy was common decency.
Zuko rolled up the sleeve of his tunic and dipped it in the stream. The flesh sizzled and steamed as it cooled down to a bearable temperature. The maiden's song turned to a scream. Zuko looked up.
A burly hooded man crept out from behind a curtain of willow branches. He signaled for two other wooded men, one fat and one skinny, brandishing knives, to join him.
The maiden's screaming had summoned another young woman, a petite girl dressed in green, who rushed to her friend's aid.
"Not one but two," the leader said.
The skinny one leered at the maiden in the water. "Plenty of fun for all of us."
"Don't taint the merchandise. No one buys an apple if someone else's already taken a bite."
Zuko rose to his feet. So this scum wanted to abduct these two lovely damsels and sell them to a brothel? Why the one in green was little more than a child. Zuko drew his swords. If only the poison didn't prevent him from fire bending.
The fat one reached for the little girl in green. The rocks beneath him rumbled and plopped ass first into the stream. The stream's currents knocked the skinny one over when he wadded into the stream to get the maiden on the rock. They both got up, soaking wet, and went running like the pathetic cowards they were.
The leader reached for the maiden on the rock. Zuko challenged him with his sword. "She's mine," he said.
"I'm sure she'll make you a lovely bride." The leader turned to join his comrades. He was tough enough to go after helpless women but crumbled in front of an armed man.
The little girl in green waved to Zuko from the opposite bank of the stream. Then, Zuko's vision went blurry, and everything around him fell silent. His swords slipped from his hands.

A pair of blue eyes greeted Zuko when he returned to the land of the living. Lips brushed against his lips, and a spicy mush filled his mouth.
Zuko blinked.
"Swallow, the owner of the eyes and the lips said. Zuko had no option but to obey. "It's ginseng. Medicine." She took another bite from a ginseng root and chewed it. Zuko received another mouthful of spicy mush.
He blinked again. The one mother-birding him ginseng root was the maiden from the rock.
"Am I interrupting something?"

The little girl in green stood over them. 
The maiden from the rock blushed and sat up. How they must have looked: her on top of Zuko with their lips touching? "I was just giving our friend some medicine." 
"Our handsome friend?" 
"Like you'd know if he was handsome." 
Zuko wondered what she could mean by that, but then he noticed that the little girl's green eyes had the tell-tale milkiness of a blind person. They looked like pieces of jade from a neckless his mother once owned. 
"I could tell by your heartbeat." the little girl giggled. "I could feel it through the ground." She wiggled her bare toes. 
The poison had entered through Zuko's right eye and spread to his arm from there. As a result, most of the right side of his face was covered by a scar. Zuko hardly considered himself handsome. 
The maiden from the rock wiped ginseng from her mouth. "He was too weak to chew the ginseng himself, so I had to chew it for him. Besides, he'd have to be awake for me to give him a proper kiss of gratitude." She leaned over and kissed him. Her lips still tasted of ginseng. 
"Gratitude for what?" Zuko said. 
"Aren't damsels usually grateful when a gallant warrior comes to their rescue?" 
"From what I saw, the two of you rescued yourselves." Zuko laughed. "I'm not in the habit of kissing ladies I've never met. Might I ask you who you are?" 
"I'm Princess Katara. My father is Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. And this charming, barefooted creature is Lady Toph Bei Fong of Gaoling." 
Toph punched Zuko's shoulder. "Pleased to meet you." 
"What are the two of you doing out in the woods by yourselves?" 
Katara placed a finger on Zuko's lips. "Rest. There'll be plenty of time for questions later." 

When night fell, Katara woke Zuko again. She led him back to the stream. They waded into the stream, and the water began to glow. It swirled around Zuko's arm and the wounds healed. Only the scar on the right side of his was left when she was finished. 

Chapter Text

It was bad enough that Zuko had to miss one break because of a split tour, but now Little Miss Know-It-All was going to make miss him another one.
All Zuko wanted was to get this tour over with, so he could go across the street to Uncle's cafe for an iced coffee, but no, Katara just had to drag out the tour forever, leaving Zuko's half of the group backed up behind her's.
The Crystal Catacombs of Ba Sing Se were a b-list tourist attraction that told the city's history in a series of eleven chintzy mannequin displays. It focused on the darker parts of the city's history, specifically the Dai Lee's purge of "cultural traitors" during the reign of King Kuei I. Zuko was at scene number ten: Lao Bei Fong.
"Now when you walked in here," Zuko said. "I'm sure you were all curious about this man and why he has a dead body in his house." The show area was painted to look like a luxurious home. A male mannequin dressed up as a wealthy merchant from the time of Kuei I stood guard over a corpse wrapped up in the shroud. "This is Lao Bei Fong, the richest merchant in Ba Sing Se. He has the nicest house in the Inner Ring, and he's said to be even wealthier than the Earth King. During the Dai Lee purges, having more money than the king is pretty much asking to get yourself accused of being a cultural traitor, and that's what happened to Lao Bei Fong and his wife, Poppy. Because of their wealth, they could bribe off their jailors to look the other way as they make a run for it. They laid low for a while in Gaoling until everything blew over."
The tale of Lao Bei Fong was typically a crowd favorite. Who wouldn't love a story about someone who gets revenge on the person who wronged them by holding their dead body hostage? But Zuko's half of the tour group didn't seem to know whether or not to pay attention to him or what was going on in the next scene.
Dammit, Katara's half of the group was still at the pirate cove. Shouldn't she be done already? But there she was, entertaining dumb tourists with their dumb tourist questions and guys trying to hit on her. Zuko had to admit that Katara was cute. She looked like a fairy tale princess in the yellow and green traditional hanfu she wore on duty. Still, he was going to strangle her if she didn't shut up already.
Zuko finished up the Lao Bei Fong Scene, and Katara was still going on and on about the pirates of Ba Sing Se. At this point, he would be lucky if he had enough time for a quick bathroom break between this tour and the next.
This was ridiculous. Zuko had to do something.
The skeleton pirate animatronic was a special effect the museum used only when giving special nighttime "Haunted Catacombs" tours during the autumn lunar festival. A tour guide could activate it by pressing a button behind a treasure chest at the entrance to the pirate cove.
Zuko pressed this button.
The lights in the pirate cove flickered. The skeleton's skull began to swivel on its spine. Its jaw fell open, and the cove echoed with drunken laughter.
A baby who's been sleeping peacefully in its mother's arms erupted into a piercing wail. The well-behaved service dog sitting by its owner's feet barked and pulled at its leash.
Katara glared at Zuko. Zuko met her gaze. "Oops," he said.
The skeleton pirate swung around the bottle he was holding and sang an old sea chanty:
"It's a long, long way to Ba Sing Se,
but the girls in the city, they look so pretty.
They kiss so sweet.
You must meet the girls from Ba Sing Se."
A couple of wide-eyed toddlers clung to their parents' legs, but everyone else chuckled. A singing skeleton pirate was more funny than scary.
Finally, Zuko stepped in front of the whole tour group. "And that concludes our tour for today," he said. "I hope you enjoyed your visit here at the Crystal Catacombs and will enjoy the rest of your time here in Ba Sing Se." He opened the door leading out to the gift shop. "Have a wonderful day."
The tour group trickled out the door. A fuming Katara made up the rear.
"You did that on purpose," she said.
Zuko rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you weren't cutting into my break, I wouldn't have had to."
Katara scoffed and followed the tour group into the gift shop. Zuko closed the door behind her. Don't let it hit you on the way out.
Back in the gift shop, Katara and Joo Dee, the manager who smiled so much that her cheeks must ache like hell at the end of the day, were talking by the front desk.
"Do we have a tour?" Zuko asked them.
Katara furrowed her brow. "We're skipping this one," she said. "Now you have an extra-long break. I hope you're happy."
Instead of a half-hour off, he now had a full hour.
"I am. Thanks for asking."

Zuko grabbed his book and wallet from the break room and left. He didn't change out of the wide-sleeved robe and loose pants that made up his tour guide uniform. One of the good things about Ba Sing Se, you could walk around looking like you stepped out of a school production of  Oma and Shu. 

Uncle looked up from behind the counter when he walked into the Jasmine Dragon Cafe. 

"Good afternoon, Uncle," he said. 

Uncle smiled. "Your usual black iced tea?" 

Zuko nodded. 

"Take a seat and I'll bring it to you." 

After finding a comfortable leather armchair by the window, Zuko opened his book. 

"Figures you'd be reading  Catcher in the Rye." 

Zuko looked up from the part where Holden Caufield hires a prostitute simply to talk with her to see Katara standing over him. He rolled his eyes. "Like you're not re-reading  Pride and Prejudice  or  Little Women  for the hundreth time." 

"My favorite Jane Austen is  Northanger Abbey  by the way.   It's seriously underrated. And I hate  Little Women.  Jo March fucking sucks. Team Amy all the way." 

Uncle came over with Zuko's iced coffee. He also carried a lavender lemonade and a Manju bun. 

"Your usual, Miss Katara," he said. "Will you be joining my nephew?" 

He winked at Zuko. 

Chapter Text

Zuko had forgotten that tonight was election night. If he remembered this, he wouldn't have stayed late at the office.
The results of the bi-election were being read aloud in front of the town hall. The crowd gathered in the town square was already getting out of hand when Zuko left the office. Most rowdy of all was the group of young women wearing purple, green, and white sashes, pushing their way to the front of the crowd with a banner.
"Votes for women!" they shouted.
Zuko picked out a distinctive straw hat loaded with bunches of blue silk hydrangeas at the edge of this group. Its wearer looked out of place at a political rally. On the other hand, her stylish blue jacket and skirt were appropriate for a garden party. She seemed unphased by the violent shouting, pushing, and shoving around her but took it all in as if it were the most marvelous thing she'd ever seen.
A green uniformed chauffeur tapped her on the shoulder. "Milady," he said. "We should leave. Things are starting to get a little rough."
The Irish brogue of Haru, the Kuruk family's driver, was unmistakable. So that must mean the girl with him was...
"But Haru," Katara gave the chauffeur the pout that made everyone from her father, Lord Southpole, down to Meng, the kitchen maid, putty in her hands. "They're only just beginning to read the results."
Zuko approached her. "Katara, what on earth are you doing here?"
Lord Southpole had expressly forbidden Katara from attending any more political rallies after a servant let it slip that she snuck out to go canvassing with her friend, Suki. Suki was a member of a particularly militant branch of the WSPU called the Kyoshi Warriors after their leader, Mrs. Kyoshi.
Haru, of course, had been complicit in all this. The chauffeur quite obviously had a hopeless crush on his master's daughter. "I don't like the look of this, Milady," he said.
Around them, bottles were being smashed, and rocks were being thrown. But to Katara, the event had lost none of its shine.
"Do you think I'd miss this?" she said.
A drunk bumped into Zuko, causing him to accidentally push Katara into Haru. Katara's hat was askew from being knocked about, her chignon was disheveled, and her blouse was rumpled. She looked like a flower that had been crushed.
"Couldn't you," Zuko said. "I bloody well could." He put an arm around Katara to lead her away.
A fistfight had broken out between a socialist and a tory agitator (the tories had started it). The tory agitator threw a punch which hit Haru.
Zuko stepped in to confront the tory agitator. "Excuse me," he said.
"What's your problem, Mr. La-Di-Da?" The tory agitator grabbed Zuko by his starched collar.
"My problem is you."
"Oh aye?"
A different scuffle nearby caused the tory agitator to shove Zuko, who in turn knocked Katara over. Katara fell to the ground like a rag doll and hit her head on the paving stones. Zuko and Katara rushed to her aid. Haru cradled her head in his arms while Zuko felt her temple. His glove was stained with blood.
"Oh no," he said. "Oh god no."
They lifted her up to carry her away.

They brought Katara to Uncle's house, where Uncle cleaned her wound with alcohol and cotton wadding. Zuko sent for Katara's brother. Lord Sokka's face went pale when he saw his sister lolling on Uncle's sofa, barely conscious.
"You stupid, stupid girl," Lord Sokka said. He knelt by his sister's side and squeezed her hand.
Zuko stood behind the sofa. "I didn't know what else to do, so I had Haru bring her here."
"Quite right. Mamma would faint if she saw her like this and Papa---"
"There," Uncle said. "The bleeding's stopped." He rose from where he'd been tending to Katara's wound, using Sokka's shoulder to help him get up.
Zuko helped Katara to sit up upright. "Are you feeling well enough to go home?"
"I am if you'll bring me," Katara said.
He helped her off the sofa and offered her his coat to cover up the blood on her clothes.
"Lean on me," he said as he led her out the door.

Chapter Text

The beginning of the cherry blossom season often coincided with the first full moon after the spring equinox. When it did, both were celebrated with a festival in honor of the moon spirit, Yue.
Yue was depicted in the temple as a willowy maiden with flowing, silvery hair and sad, beautiful blue eyes. Something about the painting in the temple reminded Zuko of Katara though the resemblance wasn't an obvious one. Katara was small and sturdy, while Yue was tall and delicate, and Katara's hair was dark brown instead of silvery white. Maybe it was their blue eyes, but Katara's were bright and sparkling with life and hope rather than melancholy.
Zuko pondered this question during the opening of the cherry blossom festival. Then, like most other girls, Katara had lit incense at Yue's shrine and prayed that she would soon meet her true love. Yue had a soft spot for lovers. She always looked so wistful because she couldn't be with her human lover and didn't want anyone else to suffer as she had.
Katara didn't need Yue's help to find a lover. In her formal robes, with its layers of different shades of blue and silver that rippled like water as she moved through the shrine's cherry orchard, she was breathtaking. The smile she gave when someone stopped to chat with her was impossibly radiant as if they were the one person in all the world she wanted most to see. She was as serene and compelling as the moon.
Even the cherry blossoms must be envious of her beauty.
Zuko took a sip of the wine the shrine's priests had brewed from last year's cherries. Uncle approached him from behind. "Prince Zuko," he said. "Have you thought up your riddle yet?"
The branches of the cherry trees fluttered with pieces of red silk. Each piece of silk was inscribed with a riddle that gave a hint to its writer's identity.
Zuko pulled a piece of red silk from his sleeve.
"I wonder which lucky young lady will untie it." Uncle looked around at the young court beauties in their flowing robes tying pieces of silk tree branches, then nudged Zuko.
That was how you played the game. You untied someone's piece of silk and tried to solve the riddle and figure out who wrote it? This game was said to predict a person's future spouse, but since it gave a lot of opportunity for mingling and flirtation, that was often a self-fulfilling prophecy.
"There must be hundreds of them," Zuko said. "It's unlikely someone will pick mine. Even if it does get picked, it might not even be by someone who knows me well enough to be able to guess my riddle."
Uncle smiled and patted his rotund belly. He looked like a benevolent buddha. "What's your riddle?"
"If I told you, then the entire court would find out." No secret was safe with Uncle, especially if it was Zuko's secret.
It took Zuko days to come up with his riddle. Should the answer be "dragon" or "phoenix," the two creatures from his family's crest? No, those were too obvious. With his best calligraphy, he wrote, "I crawl on land and swim on water. Wherever I go, I never leave home. My shell is soft, but my feathers are soft" on his piece of silk.
Uncle patted Zuko on the shoulder. "I hope someone does find it. I'd like to see my grandchildren before I die."
Zuko's father may have disowned and banished him, but Uncle had welcomed him with open arms. He adopted Zuko as his son and made him his heir. Zuko might never be Fire Lord, but he'd someday be Daiymo of Ba Sing Se.
Standing on the tips of his toes, Zuko reached for a tree branch to tie his piece of silk on.
"Seems kind of pointless, don't you think?" a passing court lady said to her companion.
"Spirits know that that Prince Zuko is going to marry Princess Katara."
Ever since the two of them arrived in Ba Sing Se together, the court gossiped that Katara was Zuko's intended bride.
The court lady giggled behind her fan. "Do they know that?"
"Who knows. Maybe Yue will push them in the right direction."

Chapter Text

Uncle's guests adjourned to the drawing-room after dinner. Sir Hakoda Southpole joined Uncle for port and discussions about the tea trade and the latest parliamentary debates. The three young ladies of Sir Hakoda's party gathered around the pianoforte. Zuko sat down on the sofa to listen to the music.
Miss Suki, Sir Hakoda's niece, a handsome, sensible girl of twenty, was at the keys and led the singing in a rich, contralto voice, perhaps the best out of the three. Joining in with a high, childish treble was one of Sir Hakoda's ward, Miss Beifong, a rowdy little hoyden of thirteen who'd sent the entire dinner party into an uproar of laughter by climbing up onto her chair and asking what's for dessert?
"Oh I hope its pineapple ice cream!" she said before being told to sit back down! Miss Beifong was still young enough for such antics to be endearing rather than inappropriate.
The trio rounded off with Miss Katara Southpole, Sir Hakoda's daughter, a silly little coquette of about seventeen or eighteen who wouldn't stop flashing her big, blue eyes at Zuko throughout dinner. No doubt she was another of the fair bitch hounds hunting him this season.
Miss Southpole continued to make sheep's eyes at Zuko as she and the other two girls sang a sentimental Scottish ballad about a dying woman telling her husband that she and their deceased child will see him again in Heaven or the Land o' the Leal.
"I'm fading away, John,
Like snowdrifts in thaw, John.
I'm fading away to the Land o' the Leal."
If only death were that simple and poetic. It took Mai nearly twenty-four hours of bloody, gut-wrenching agony and feverish delirium to fade away to the Land o' the Leal.

 " There's no sorrow there, John, 

 There's neither cold nor care, John. 

The days are fair in the Land o'the Leal." 

Mai probably would have smirked or rolled her eyes at something so trite as Zuko imagining her in a "better place," never having been one for fuss or sentimentality. Mai had grown up in the stern, Scottish Calvinist Church. Though she'd never been particularly pious, she'd internalized something of that church's pessimistic outlook. As she lay dying, she probably feared Hell more than she hoped for Heaven.

  Our bonny babe is there, John," 

 She was both good and fair, John. 

 And O! We grudged her so  to the Land o' the Leal." 

One of the last things Mai did before strength and consciousness left her was take their newborn daughter in her arms, kiss Izumi's head, and say, "look after your papa." Mai had known and accepted that she would die before the rest of them had, even the doctor. That Izumi came into the world healthy and strong must have given her some relief. 

  "Now fair thee well, my own John, 

                      This world's cares are in vain, John 

                      We'll meet and we'll be fair in the Land o' the Leal." 

A tear ran down Zuko's cheek, and he stepped away for a moment to dry his eyes before anyone noticed he was crying. He made sure not to spoil the embroidered phoenix, his family crest, on his handkerchief by getting it wet with his tears. The handkerchief had been a gift from Izumi. The needlework was highly impressive for a five-year-old, one of Izumi's many accomplishments. The governess raved in her letters about what a bright and well-behaved child Izumi was. 

"My Lord, are you alright?" Miss Katara had followed him. 

Zuko quickly composed himself. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" 

"I thought you might be upset." The girl stood so close to him that he could hear the creaking of her stays as she breathed. "Maybe the song brought up some unpleasant memories."  

"Unpleasant memories?" Zuko furrowed his brow. 

"Your sister, Mrs. Chan, told me about the late Lady Sozin." 

"And what did she tell you?" 

Mai was supposedly one of Azula's dearest friends, but Azula mocked Mai behind her back for her thin frame and standoffish demeanor. Azula often said that you could replace Mai with a broomstick, and no one would notice. 

Miss Katara blushed. "She said that the two of you weren't always happy." 

Unfortunately, this was the truth. Zuko and Mai had been too similar in many ways and too different in others. But still, Mai deserved better than what life had given her. 

"What right did she have to make up these stories? What right do you have to repete them?"  

"My appologies, My Lord." Miss Katara turned to leave. 

"No need. I wouldn't expect a silly, ignorant girl like you to understand." 

Chapter Text

Katara noticed the boy with the burnt face across the crowded gymnasium. He stood apart from everyone else and watched the dancing with detached interest. Even if he weren't all alone, we would have stood out due to the burns that covered one of his eyes.

Katara couldn't help but be intrigued by him. Despite his scars, he still had a strange sort of beauty, like a damaged statue of an angel. The gym was filled with pretty girls just itching to dance, and he could probably ask any of them and get a yes. So, why was he by himself?

His gaze met Katara's. The music dimmed, and the light blurred, but he came into sharper focus. Everything that wasn't him faded into irrelevance.
Katara's first night out in Ba Sing Se had gotten off to a rough start, with a squabble about the dress Suki made for her. She'd refused to show up in powder blue with a neckline almost to her collarbone, looking like a little girl, and insisted upon borrowing one of Suki's dresses. But, Suki kept shooting her down until she was forced to put it on for lack of anything else to wear.
"Baby blue for a baby," Katara had grumbled as Suki did up the zipper. But then, she caught her reflection in the mirror, and her opinion of the dress changed.
Deep down, Katara had known that Suki's dresses, with their plunging necklines and big, flouncy skirts, wouldn't suit her. She didn't have Suki's lush, womanly curves. Her own figure was more slight and delicate, and the simple, diaphanous blue dress flattered it better. She could be an ethereal water nymph if she couldn't be a voluptuous earth goddess like Suki. 
Things were going well with Aang; the friend Sokka had invited to come to the dance with them with the understanding that he would be Katara's date and keep an eye on her when Sokka couldn't. Aang seemed like a sweet guy, though heaven only knew why he hung around a bunch of punks like Sokka and his friends. He spoke to Katara as if she were a person in her own right instead of just Sokka's little sister. And he was a great dancer. 

"Do you want some punch?" Aang said. He and Katara were sweaty and breathless as a song was winding down. 
Katara nodded, and Aang dashed off like an obedient hound. While she waited for Aang, she watched what was happening on the dance floor. 
As much fun as everyone was having, battle lines were drawn. The Dragons on one side, the Polar Bear-Dogs on the other. Tensions simmered beneath the surface.  
The overly chipper social worker running the dance, Joo-Dee, made a well-intentioned but futile attempt to bridge the gap with a game. 
"The boys," Joo Dee said. "form a circle on the outside, and the girls will be on the outside. When the music stops, each boy dances with whichever girl is opposite." 
All Joo Dee got for her efforts was a chorus of groans until a Dragon girl in a figure-hugging red number, and her glossy, dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail stepped forward and beckoned to her date. 
Sokka answered this challenge. He led Suki to the dance floor as if he were escorting a queen. Suki was resplendent in an emerald-colored dress with yards of tulle petticoats. As Sokka spun her around, her helmet of curls bounced and swayed. 
Other couples followed their lead. 
Joo Dee clapped her hands to regain everyone's attention. "Gentlemen to the left," she said. "Because the ladies are always right."  She laughed. 
The music struck up. Boys went to the left, girls went to the right. 
" Round and around and around she goes. Where she stops, no one knows." 
Of course, Dragon boys ended up with Polar Bear-Dog girls, Dragon girls ended up with Polar Bear-Dog girls, and everyone reverted back to their original partners. The light-hearted game Joo-Dee had intended degenerated into a cut-throat dance-off. 
Dragons and Polar Bear-Dogs couldn't help but fight whether on the dance floor or on the streets.  
Katara stood at the edge of the dance floor, cheering on Sokka and Suki as they faced off against the Dragon girl in the red dress and her date. Across the gym stood the boy with the burnt face. The smoldering looks he gave Katara made her feel flushed. 
The boy walked toward the green bleachers. He nodded to Katara, inviting her to follow him. Katara could get underneath the bleachers without any problem, but he had to duck his head and stand under the highest bench to fit. 
Katara giggled. "You're so tall," she said.  
"You're not." Her head barely reached his shoulder.  
The music changed from a loud, rambunctious mambo to a soft, delicate cha-cha. Katara made the first move in the dance, and the boy followed her lead. But, unfortunately, he was a terrible dancer. As stiff as a mannequin when he moved, unlike Aang, who wasn't called "Twinkle Toes" for no reason. Still, the closeness of this boy's body gave Katara a hot and fluttery feeling that Aang's did not. 
"You haven't mistaken me for someone else?" The boy said. 
Katara twirled and snapped her fingers. "How could I with that scar of yours." 
"Have we met before?" 
"No, we have not." 
He furrowed his brow."You aren't playing some kind of joke?" 
"I haven't yet learned how to joke like that." Unfortunately, Katara's experience with men wasn't extensive enough to be skilled with such coquettish games. 
Katara reached over to stroke the scarred part of his face. "So soft." She had expected his scar to feel rough, but it was like velvet under her fingers. 
"Your hands are cold." He put his large, warm hand over her small, chilly one. 
Standing on the tips of her toes, Katara touched her lips to his. He rested his hand on the small of her back. Fortunately, he kissed better than he danced, though Katara didn't have much to compare it to. She was left gasping and had to steady herself by grabbing his arm. 
"What's your name?" The boy said. 
Wouldn't Katara's mother be ashamed of her? Kissing a boy without telling him her name first or even knowing who he was.
"Shhh." Two shadows blocked out the light coming through the cracks between the bleachers. "Someone's there. They might hear you."  
"Katara, have you seen her?" Sokka said. Whoever he'd asked just shrugged. 
The boy put a hand on Katara's shoulder. "Who is that?" 
"My brother." 
Katara slipped out from under the bleachers and pulled the boy out after her. Sokka swooped down from the bleachers like a bird-of-prey. "What were you doing down there with my sister?" He shoved the boy away from Katara. 
"Sokka!" Katara said. 
The boy's face turned red. "Sister?" 
Aang, Suki, and the Dragon girl in the red dress came over to see what all the common was about? 
"Can't you see he's one of them?" Sokka pulled Katara to him. "There's only one thing a Fire Nation ash-maker like him wants from a Water Tribe girl." 
The boy's black hair, pale skin, and ember eyes spoke to his Fire Nation heritage. He moved towards Sokka, either to plead his case or slug him. The Dragon girl tried to hold him back. 
"Really, Zuzu? Now?" she said. Lieutenant Long Feng and Officer Yon Rha, who were there to make sure no funny business happened during the dance, were close by. 
Zuzu, Tui, and La, that couldn't be his real name, grumbled. "But out, Azula." 
Sokka handed Katara over to Aang.  "It's time you took her home now," he said. Then, he turned to the boy... Zuzu...whatever his name was? "And, you. Stay away from my sister if you know what's good for you."