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Description
The harsh voice sliced through the morning air, silencing the bird song and trickling burble of water: "I won't do it."

"Zuko," Iroh admonished, "I can't keep stalling the nobles." The bags beneath his usually warm amber eyes sagged with weariness when he bowed his head. "It's no use; they need an answer," he murmured. Hesitantly, he approached the new Fire Lord, his weathered hand hovering just above Zuko's coiffed topknot. Iroh sighed, and patted his nephew's shoulder. It would change nothing to argue with him.

Zuko's eyes slammed shut with the touch of his uncle's hand on his shoulder, and the words that followed. "This is a hard decision, Zuko," Iroh rasped. "No one can make it for you, not I or any others involved. If there's no truth to the rumors..."

"Of course there's no truth to them!" he snapped, sudden heat crashing over them as he struggled to keep his firebending in check. Chastised by his lack of control, Zuko shrugged off his uncle's touch. "I'll be fine. I'll figure it out," he said gruffly. He listened for the pad of Iroh's retreating footsteps, and did not relax until he was sure he was alone.

The mirthful gurgling of the brook in his garden did nothing to calm him down. For weeks, the nobles had been after the newly appointed Fire Lord to make the decision, and set the date for his marriage to Mai. Zuko shook himself out; he'd tensed at the mere thought of his bride-to-be. Picturing her snake-like smile brought a similar grimace to his face. If he had to hear her monotonous voice again, he would strangle someone.

Zuko's scowl softened slightly, and he hunched over on his bench. He couldn't really blame Mai; they'd been set up since they were young. It had always been taken for granted that they would marry when they grew up. But every time her pale, slim hands tugged on his forearm to take him aside, he couldn't help the shiver of unhappiness that trailed up his spine.

But he had to be honest. It wouldn't have been pushed on him so quickly if it hadn't been for the spiteful rumors of his love for another. Zuko gritted his teeth. Nobles. Stupid fools, the lot of them. If only they knew... Memory crashed over him – flashes of blue, swirls of brown, a warm body. Calloused hands touching his, warm and rough, nothing like he'd ever felt before...

"Hey, stranger!"

A myriad of tingles shuddered down Zuko's entire body. He knew that voice. The source of so many problems. Before he could turn to face her, toned brown arms slipped around his neck to hug him tightly, squeezing painfully till his heart stuttered uncontrollably. Zuko closed his eyes and had to scream at his body to unfreeze and reciprocate. "It's..." he muttered, searching for the words to express himself, "great to see you, Katara," he finished lamely. His arms wrapped around the waterbender. Zuko could feel himself drowning in a blue sea of fabric, and he had to take a step back to see whatever it was she wore.

"Do you like it?" she laughed, twirling so the expansive blue swaths of silk swept around her in a profusion of shimmering delight. Her clear eyes glittered in the piercing sun, filled with laughter and that special connection he knew she had to feel. Zuko felt his chest squeeze in response, and his mouth opened without sound. His eyes danced around the curves that the beautiful kimono hugged so tightly while his mouth dried at the breathtaking elegance she exuded.

"Zuko, are you okay?" she asked, genuine concern lacing the question. "Is the wound still hurting?" She reached out, and he stumbled to take a step back. A lance of pain shot through his sternum, and he winced as the lightning mark flared up. With characteristic disregard for manners and asking permission, she swiftly tugged aside the front of his tunic to run her achingly gentle hands over the still-healing wound. A frown crossed her sunny face. "Zuko," she said, bending a stream of water out of the tiny brook that ran through the garden, "I'm going to check this out," she murmured.

Hot hands spread across his midsection, coated in a cool layer of soothing water. A hiss escaped his lips at the unexpected contact. Katara looked up in concern; he shook his head to reassure her. It took all the control he had to keep calm as she continued easing his aches and pains. Tendrils of reassuring calm snaked around his chest, connected to the pulsating, healing glow coming from Katara's palms. Unlike the last times, the fierce desire to see her eyes, to touch her back swept across him, leaving him shaking. He concentrated on Mai, on his uncle, on all the responsibilities he had to his nation. Her pinky brushed his navel, and just grazed the thin line of hair near it. A fiery line of heat followed her touch, making him more and more aware of the semi-torturous feel of her fingers. He couldn't take it much longer.

"Katara," he said huskily, grabbing one of her wrists so she stopped. The water splashed on top of him, her hands hanging uselessly. "Zuko," she said, blinking rapidly. "We---I---" she stammered. Amber eyes narrowed and met wide blue ones. Zuko could taste the tension in the air, simmering densely between them like burnt chocolate, invading his senses and making his nostrils flare. He flipped the palm he held over and traced her callouses with the sensitive pads of his fingers. Slowly, ever so carefully, he brushed the back of her knuckles with his over-heated lips. The sharp smell of chai floated up to tease him with it's spicy flavor. He heard her intake of breath, and flicked his eyes up to meet hers over the bridge of her shaking hand. "Katara," he murmured, hot breath gusting across her hand and making her gasp.

"Z-zuko," she stammered, "I--" The Fire Lord surged up to his full height and snaked his hands up her arms to cup her cheeks. A pause let him drink in the distilled beauty of her innocence, the anticipation and hesitation in her flushed cheeks. Briefly he remembered Mai. And promptly forgot her when his lips dipped down to taste the succulent mouth of the waterbender. She let out a squeak when he nipped her lip, succumbing to the feelings that roared through him and left all nerve endings alight with desire. "Katara," he growled, entangling his fingers in the long, thick hair he'd dreamed about.

He jumped when her tentative hands found the back of his neck. "I--I...." she stuttered, backing away till their embrace just barely connected them. "I can't," she blurted. Tears welled in her deep blue eyes, sucking Zuko in with the pain he saw there. It was nothing compared the the fast-growing ache in his chest, his heart pumping toxic agony through his blood stream. Confusion gradually replaced it - had he made a mistake? He tried to cup her cheek again, but she turned away. He blinked, crushing rejection swamping the confusion. So that was it. A dull throbbing hurt took over, thumping through his head.

"Zuko, you have Mai... and I have Aang," she continued, her voice breaking on a sob. The tears spilled over her cheeks, staining the beautiful silk kimono. He ignored the hurt in her voice, the obvious pain she was going through invisible in the face of his loss of face. "I'm sorry." She tore away from his embrace and stumbled off into the darkness.

Zuko stood, watching her retreat, feeling his heart ripping from him with the force of a thousand burns, a million lightning strikes. He stumbled to his knees, ignoring the splash from the puddle he landed in. The ache inside only worsened. Salt, like the brine from her tears, bathed his entire being in complete agony. He bowed his head and fisted his hands. No. It couldn't be happening like this. The sun still beat down, baking his exposed skin and quickly evaporating what tears he let loose.

"Zuko..." Iroh had come back. It stood to reason that Iroh would have been there, Zuko thought. Watching the entire thing, knowing the truth of the vile rumors the nobility had spread. His nephew was a predator, someone who took advantage of young women. Zuko stood, leaning heavily on his uncle as he did. His head hung low, and he didn't meet the older man's eyes.

"Send out a notice, Uncle," he said bitterly. "Set the date of my marriage to Mai." His words rang hollow in the sunny air, punctuated by the mocking whistles of the birds in the trees.

"When?" Iroh said, as Zuko began to walk away from him. He had indeed watched the entire encounter, and felt for his nephew deeply. "Why not wait, maybe Katara will---"

"Don't say her name. I don't care when. I don't care." It didn't matter, not when he was dating - and now marrying - the wrong woman.

Description
The harsh voice sliced through the morning air, silencing the bird song and trickling burble of water: "I won't do it."

"Zuko," Iroh admonished, "I can't keep stalling the nobles." The bags beneath his usually warm amber eyes sagged with weariness when he bowed his head. "It's no use; they need an answer," he murmured. Hesitantly, he approached the new Fire Lord, his weathered hand hovering just above Zuko's coiffed topknot. Iroh sighed, and patted his nephew's shoulder. It would change nothing to argue with him.

Zuko's eyes slammed shut with the touch of his uncle's hand on his shoulder, and the words that followed. "This is a hard decision, Zuko," Iroh rasped. "No one can make it for you, not I or any others involved. If there's no truth to the rumors..."

"Of course there's no truth to them!" he snapped, sudden heat crashing over them as he struggled to keep his firebending in check. Chastised by his lack of control, Zuko shrugged off his uncle's touch. "I'll be fine. I'll figure it out," he said gruffly. He listened for the pad of Iroh's retreating footsteps, and did not relax until he was sure he was alone.

The mirthful gurgling of the brook in his garden did nothing to calm him down. For weeks, the nobles had been after the newly appointed Fire Lord to make the decision, and set the date for his marriage to Mai. Zuko shook himself out; he'd tensed at the mere thought of his bride-to-be. Picturing her snake-like smile brought a similar grimace to his face. If he had to hear her monotonous voice again, he would strangle someone.

Zuko's scowl softened slightly, and he hunched over on his bench. He couldn't really blame Mai; they'd been set up since they were young. It had always been taken for granted that they would marry when they grew up. But every time her pale, slim hands tugged on his forearm to take him aside, he couldn't help the shiver of unhappiness that trailed up his spine.

But he had to be honest. It wouldn't have been pushed on him so quickly if it hadn't been for the spiteful rumors of his love for another. Zuko gritted his teeth. Nobles. Stupid fools, the lot of them. If only they knew... Memory crashed over him – flashes of blue, swirls of brown, a warm body. Calloused hands touching his, warm and rough, nothing like he'd ever felt before...

"Hey, stranger!"

A myriad of tingles shuddered down Zuko's entire body. He knew that voice. The source of so many problems. Before he could turn to face her, toned brown arms slipped around his neck to hug him tightly, squeezing painfully till his heart stuttered uncontrollably. Zuko closed his eyes and had to scream at his body to unfreeze and reciprocate. "It's..." he muttered, searching for the words to express himself, "great to see you, Katara," he finished lamely. His arms wrapped around the waterbender. Zuko could feel himself drowning in a blue sea of fabric, and he had to take a step back to see whatever it was she wore.

"Do you like it?" she laughed, twirling so the expansive blue swaths of silk swept around her in a profusion of shimmering delight. Her clear eyes glittered in the piercing sun, filled with laughter and that special connection he knew she had to feel. Zuko felt his chest squeeze in response, and his mouth opened without sound. His eyes danced around the curves that the beautiful kimono hugged so tightly while his mouth dried at the breathtaking elegance she exuded.

"Zuko, are you okay?" she asked, genuine concern lacing the question. "Is the wound still hurting?" She reached out, and he stumbled to take a step back. A lance of pain shot through his sternum, and he winced as the lightning mark flared up. With characteristic disregard for manners and asking permission, she swiftly tugged aside the front of his tunic to run her achingly gentle hands over the still-healing wound. A frown crossed her sunny face. "Zuko," she said, bending a stream of water out of the tiny brook that ran through the garden, "I'm going to check this out," she murmured.

Hot hands spread across his midsection, coated in a cool layer of soothing water. A hiss escaped his lips at the unexpected contact. Katara looked up in concern; he shook his head to reassure her. It took all the control he had to keep calm as she continued easing his aches and pains. Tendrils of reassuring calm snaked around his chest, connected to the pulsating, healing glow coming from Katara's palms. Unlike the last times, the fierce desire to see her eyes, to touch her back swept across him, leaving him shaking. He concentrated on Mai, on his uncle, on all the responsibilities he had to his nation. Her pinky brushed his navel, and just grazed the thin line of hair near it. A fiery line of heat followed her touch, making him more and more aware of the semi-torturous feel of her fingers. He couldn't take it much longer.

"Katara," he said huskily, grabbing one of her wrists so she stopped. The water splashed on top of him, her hands hanging uselessly. "Zuko," she said, blinking rapidly. "We---I---" she stammered. Amber eyes narrowed and met wide blue ones. Zuko could taste the tension in the air, simmering densely between them like burnt chocolate, invading his senses and making his nostrils flare. He flipped the palm he held over and traced her callouses with the sensitive pads of his fingers. Slowly, ever so carefully, he brushed the back of her knuckles with his over-heated lips. The sharp smell of chai floated up to tease him with it's spicy flavor. He heard her intake of breath, and flicked his eyes up to meet hers over the bridge of her shaking hand. "Katara," he murmured, hot breath gusting across her hand and making her gasp.

"Z-zuko," she stammered, "I--" The Fire Lord surged up to his full height and snaked his hands up her arms to cup her cheeks. A pause let him drink in the distilled beauty of her innocence, the anticipation and hesitation in her flushed cheeks. Briefly he remembered Mai. And promptly forgot her when his lips dipped down to taste the succulent mouth of the waterbender. She let out a squeak when he nipped her lip, succumbing to the feelings that roared through him and left all nerve endings alight with desire. "Katara," he growled, entangling his fingers in the long, thick hair he'd dreamed about.

He jumped when her tentative hands found the back of his neck. "I--I...." she stuttered, backing away till their embrace just barely connected them. "I can't," she blurted. Tears welled in her deep blue eyes, sucking Zuko in with the pain he saw there. It was nothing compared the the fast-growing ache in his chest, his heart pumping toxic agony through his blood stream. Confusion gradually replaced it - had he made a mistake? He tried to cup her cheek again, but she turned away. He blinked, crushing rejection swamping the confusion. So that was it. A dull throbbing hurt took over, thumping through his head.

"Zuko, you have Mai... and I have Aang," she continued, her voice breaking on a sob. The tears spilled over her cheeks, staining the beautiful silk kimono. He ignored the hurt in her voice, the obvious pain she was going through invisible in the face of his loss of face. "I'm sorry." She tore away from his embrace and stumbled off into the darkness.

Zuko stood, watching her retreat, feeling his heart ripping from him with the force of a thousand burns, a million lightning strikes. He stumbled to his knees, ignoring the splash from the puddle he landed in. The ache inside only worsened. Salt, like the brine from her tears, bathed his entire being in complete agony. He bowed his head and fisted his hands. No. It couldn't be happening like this. The sun still beat down, baking his exposed skin and quickly evaporating what tears he let loose.

"Zuko..." Iroh had come back. It stood to reason that Iroh would have been there, Zuko thought. Watching the entire thing, knowing the truth of the vile rumors the nobility had spread. His nephew was a predator, someone who took advantage of young women. Zuko stood, leaning heavily on his uncle as he did. His head hung low, and he didn't meet the older man's eyes.

"Send out a notice, Uncle," he said bitterly. "Set the date of my marriage to Mai." His words rang hollow in the sunny air, punctuated by the mocking whistles of the birds in the trees.

"When?" Iroh said, as Zuko began to walk away from him. He had indeed watched the entire encounter, and felt for his nephew deeply. "Why not wait, maybe Katara will---"

"Don't say her name. I don't care when. I don't care." It didn't matter, not when he was dating - and now marrying - the wrong woman.