title: tides; "the rise & fall of sea levels, the push & pull of two opposing forces".

setting: six years after the end of the war.

disclaimer: I own nothing.

author's notes: review pretty please?

It was summer when the tides came in.

Katara was returning to the Fire Nation for the first time in several years. Balancing herself on the bow of the Water Tribe ship, she floated her hands by her sides as she propelled the currents along, helping the crew where she could. She had no knowledge of the riggings or the ropes, so she kept out of the way of the Fire Nation crewmembers that swore like dogs and spat on the decks. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably like the surface of the tumultuous waves beneath her, reminding the girl she hadn't eaten anything yet that day.

La, I'm stupid for doing this.

She was twenty years old. Twenty years old and more powerful then she'd been in her entire life, she thought. Or perhaps just more stoic. Perhaps just tougher, like seal jerky as opposed to the tender meats of the fish that her friends had preferred, such a long, long time ago. Her hair brushed the curve of her hip, now, flying free in the wind, whipping her cheeks, catching in her mouth occasionally when she wasn't paying attention. She'd abandoned her hair loopies for intricate, thin braids that kept the wisps of baby hairs that framed her face from falling into her eyes.

Her arms were muscular from fishing with spears and hunting with her brother, running with the animals and practicing her bending with Master Pakku when he visited her grandmother. Constant afternoons outside had tanned her considerably, as well, and she'd decorated herself with silver jewelry in hopes to appear more like a Chief's daughter.

The swelling of the waves were rippling with the glow of the afternoon sun, casting bits of warmth onto her cheeks that she tried to ignore. She hated being reminded of warmth. That was one of the reasons she'd stayed so diligently in her home Nation, where the sun barely made appearances and she was almost always cold.

The cold was better than the warmth that reminded her of a friendship lost ages ago, of golden-yellow eyes that made her feel more at home than anything else in the world.

She'd been dodging proposals from the boys in her tribe for almost six months now, one for each month she had been a single woman. Some were jokes; from mere boys who wanted to throw it in her face that the Avatar had left her to rot.

Single. It wasn't her favorite word, even now, but it was a necessary one.

A necessary evil that had permeated every area of her life, leaving her no choice but to build a hut away from her tribe and live out her life quietly, teaching small waterbending classes to children whose parents would allow her near them.

Being alone was such a negative phrase with a dark connotation; as if living by yourself and making the most out of a bad situation made you less of a human being. Some didn't even consider her a true woman, or a full part of the tribe anymore, insults which her father fought against adamantly.

She could practically smell the Fire Nation from where she stood, squinting until she could make out the line of land just ahead. The last time she'd seen her old friend, it had been in the months following the end of the war. She'd walked along the beach with him, letting the white foam of the waves tickle her toes as she teased him. They'd been friends. Such good friends. His eyes had reflected the pain in hers, and they'd talked for hours about the losses they'd struggled with for a lifetime. But when Mai had made pointed remarks about how much time the pair was spending together, Zuko cut her off.

Toph had called him whipped. Katara had just pressed her lips together firmly and tried not to cry when he ignored her in the halls at the time. Somewhere deep inside of her, she knew what he was doing was just for the good of his relationship with his future Fire Lady. Mai was important to him, and he'd known Katara for a much shorter time, logically speaking.

Somehow, though, it felt like Mai didn't know him at all. Katara had been there when he'd lamented over his honor, screaming to the sky that he felt more alone among his own people than ever before.

Traitor, they'd called him, taunting him in the streets as he broke himself for people that didn't even want his help. Mai didn't see that Zuko. She only saw the brooding, mystical boy with the dark hair who couldn't control his temper. She probably liked the danger of the illusion rather than the realism of the situation.

Which was one reason why Katara couldn't understand why Zuko had cut off their friendship, their absolute lifeblood, for a girl that only made snide, backhanded remarks and passive-aggressive compliments that never turned out right.

She exploded on him one night, freezing him in a block of ice while she shouted at him. It wasn't fair, she'd cried, he was supposed to be her friend. The soon-to-be Fire Lord had only stared at her balefully, with golden eyes bigger than the full moon. They'd pulled her in, like the tides, begging her to understand, to see the struggles he was faced with.

She should have realized then that he'd been forced to choose between her and the woman the entire court wanted him to marry. It was his heart versus societal norms, and he had to please his people somehow. Being radical just wouldn't suit him then.

In hindsight, she knew that it had just bothered her that he hadn't picked her for his own.

She'd left with Aang a few days later. Half of her was convinced that she was Aang's 'forever girl', that she was meant to be with him and that they'd have a beautiful slice of eternity together. He'd chatted on and on about building a family, a home, about living in a house that he would build for them and living completely off the land. She'd smiled at him and agreed, like a good woman should.

But the other half of her reminded her that maybe she was only leaving with the bald monk because of the face Zuko had made when he'd seen her walking away. She hadn't even said goodbye.

She'd narrowed her eyes at him, her arms tucked under her breasts firmly with her lips pursed as Aang clapped the Fire Lord on the back and wished him well. When Zuko had moved to hug her goodbye, she turned away.

It wasn't that she'd wanted anything from him in particular, at the time, it was just that a shard of her soul yearned for him in a way that she didn't understand. He'd always owned a piece of her, in some strange way.

It was only now that she could begin to understand.

Maybe it was the talks that went on into the night until the first rays of sunlight kissed the horizon line. Maybe it was the way he'd reached out a hand to her when she strongly refused help, and he stubbornly gave it to her anyways. Maybe it was the warmth in his sunshine-flecked eyes, or the gentleness in his heart that curved his lips into a soft smile, or the smoothness of his words when they talked about heavy memories in the darkness of early morning.

Or maybe it was the fire inside of him. The spark, the fierceness that Aang had never possessed. Maybe it was how they liked to argue, to scream at each other until they deemed the argument pointless and dissolved into laughter. That was just how they worked. He would launch himself towards her, his voice raspy from yelling as his hands grabbed at her hips and pulled her into a fierce hug to make up for the silly fight they'd had. She remembered how her arms had hooked around the back of his neck and occasionally her fingers would twine around his, claiming a piece of him in some way, her nails pulling at the cloth of his clothes as she feebly hoped he'd never leave her.

They were utter opposites, and yet, so unbearably similar.

She still had night terrors. When she'd lived in the Fire Nation, her room had been near the royal chambers, and when she screamed her throat raw and her cheeks were crusted with tears, he'd be there. She'd whisper his name in the darkness of early morning and thanked Tui and La for him. Zuko.

He'd been her ocean, and he'd swallowed her whole.

Sometimes, she'd hear him crying out in his sleep. Mai wasn't allowed to enter his bedchambers at night due to tradition, so Katara would throw open his door and scramble onto his bed, pinning his flailing limbs down to the satin sheets as she begged him to return to the waking world- to return to her.

She saw herself in him, just as he saw himself in her.

Would he care that Aang had walked out on her and never come back? Or would he jeer at her, too, like the rest of the world, and call her tainted? Unworthy of a husband?

Her home had been colder than she'd bargained for when she'd returned, the loneliness chewing at her soul like frostbite. Especially after Aang had left.

A part of her was preparing for the Fire Lord to have already put a ring on Mai's finger. She'd want to turn right around if that were the case, even though she couldn't. She didn't like the gloomy girl any more than Mai liked the waterbender; she knew about her boyfriend's connection with the blue-eyed girl. Smugly, Katara played with her hair, thinking of how desperate Mai had been to get Zuko away from her. It had taken endless insults and threats on the part of the pale woman, until finally, one threat that was screeched from defiant lips echoed throughout the halls of the palace in the horrors of late evening-

"If you so much as speak to that peasant again, I'll be sure to let the entire Nation know that she has dishonored herself by trying to become the concubine of the Fire Lord and insulting her relationship with Avatar Aang."

Katara had shuddered at the words, feeling sick and knowing that Zuko would do anything to keep her honor intact. They'd never been anything more than friends, never exchanged anything further than a hug or a side glance. But Mai read in-between the lines, and she could see the longing that danced between them that they hadn't begun to understand.

So he'd ignored her. They'd had no contact except for a single piece of mail via pigeon a handful of mornings ago, blazoned with the seal of the Fire Lord and written in a hand that she didn't recognize.

She'd been asked to be the ambassador between the two nations in a cold, emotionless letter that had no part of her old friend in it besides his signature.

They'd parted on such bad terms.

Would he be happy to see her at all? Or would the silence between them fester into an enmity that she couldn't control?

When the hem of her blue dress kissed the damp boards of the Fire Nation docks, she put her hands on her hips and held her hand over her eyes, staring up at the city in front of her. He'd been a good ruler. The city looked like it was prospering, bustling with activity. Birds hovered above her, screeching, making her tilt her eyes up towards the sky with her hand shadowing the light above her brow.

There was a small consort there to meet her, a gathering of six soldiers that saluted her respectfully when she descended from the dock. She nodded to them.

"At ease, gentlemen. There's no need for formalities." She smiled at the men, who all glanced at each other a little awkwardly before returning her grin. They all looked to be young; her age or perhaps even younger. They were new recruits; Zuko had probably scrapped the entire army and started over.

"Welcome, Lady Katara. The Fire Nation is honored to have a Master Waterbender as our ambassador." The oldest soldier's voice was stiff, a little curt, but she only clasped her hands in front of her demurely and bowed her head to him in thanks.

"As I am honored to be visiting such a great Nation." She wondered a little why Zuko wasn't here to greet her, and felt her heart lurch a little as she realized he might be too busy for her.

No matter. She'd do her duty and depart as swiftly as she could manage.

As she walked with the soldiers up to the palace, they pressed close to her, each trying to have a hand on her lightly.

"For protection." The oldest had said, his eyes flickering away from her ashamedly. She knew that the Fire Nation was still as unaccepting of other Nations as ever, and she allowed the soldiers to feel like they were protecting her. Her fingers rested lightly on the water pouch concealed under her light robe anyways, and she kept her gaze rooted forward. Some of the villagers stopped to taunt her, and a few went so far as to throw a vegetable or two, but no one attempted any more than that.

She was glad when none of them brought up her recent separation from the Avatar.

A few of her own people had been so bold as to call her names for his abandonment, shaming her publicly until her father had needed to intervene. Shuddering a little, she pushed the memories further into her mind, ignoring the pain she'd suffered.

Some of the civilians around her were under the impression that she was a prisoner of the Fire Nation, and they cheered on the soldiers, congratulating them on capturing a Master Waterbender.

Their grips on her tightened then, but she only pressed her lips together tightly. Her eerie calmness was a sign of the hardened maturity that had developed to a jaded weariness in recent years. Even Sokka looked at her with sad eyes, and she knew he tried to not mention his new engagement to Suki. She'd return in a few months time to help Suki prepare to enter the Southern Water Tribe, to braid shells into her hair and to help her in carving a special hunting knife for her husband-to-be. But now, all she could focus on were the cat-calls of the people around her, hearing the names they spat at her and only managing to raise her head a little higher.

In the time of war, she would have lashed out at the soldiers around her, snapping at them to give her space, to allow her the pride of defending herself. But now, she was careful.

She wasn't a child any more.

The massive doors to the throne room swung open with little difficulty, exposing the opulence of hundreds of years of intricate gold-work and etched mahogany. Large tapestries were hung about the hall, and the marble floor was shining in the light. She would have once stepped carefully, hoping that her shoes wouldn't leave marks on the white marble, but she walked with a serious purpose now. Her head was high, her back straight, and her nails were carving half-moons into the sweaty palms of her hands.

She was about to face her greatest enemy and her greatest love, the man who had challenged her to feel more hatred and more desire than anyone had ever made her feel in her life.

Katara was more powerful than when she had last been here, walking with the strength of a woman who had faced abandonment too many times and beaten the loneliness.

"Wait here." The guards left her side then. All except the youngest, who managed a weak grin at the taller woman before turning back to clasping his spear with sweaty hands. They disappeared into a side room that was barely masked by a thin, paper wall, elaborately decorated with scenes from stories that she didn't understand.

"Lady Katara is here to see you, Fire Lord." She could make out the muffled voices of the guards, and she folded her hands behind her, tilting her chin up towards the ceiling and pursing her lips. She was tempted to cock her hips to the side, to show off the curves that hadn't been there when she'd last seen the dark-haired bender, but she chose not to.

His voice in her ears almost hurt to hear, but she focused on it anyways, reveling in how much deeper it was than the last time she'd spoken to him.

The man that swept into the throne room was not the boy she had left behind. He was substantially taller and broader now, with his long, inky black hair swept into an elegant top knot. His cheekbones were much more apparent, the definition in his face attractive and becoming. She just barely stopped herself from murmuring his name.

Instead, she addressed him as formally as she could manage. She refused to bow before him, firstly, which drew a shocked gasp from the guard beside her. She only inclined her head towards her old friend once.

"Fire Lord Zuko. A pleasure." Her tone was chilly. She knew it was rude, but the waterbender couldn't help it. One of his eyebrows arched, and he moved to sit on his throne, draping his great robes around him. They were a deep shade of crimson, each delicately embroidered with golden thread and edged in black.

"Lady Katara," The way he said her name made her stomach toss.

"It's been a long time. I'm pleased to see you again." Zuko's voice rumbled in his chest, a raspy baritone that trembled in her soul. When had he gotten so damn attractive?

"Thank you for honoring me with the position of ambassador between our Nations, Fire Lord. I will do my best to be of service." Her tone was a low drawl, and she cocked her head at him a little, challenging him.

As an afterthought, she spoke again, her tongue flicking out to skim her chapped lower lip before she uttered a poisonous statement that would have made the chambermaids blush.

"I'm surprised you don't have your Fire Lady beside you. Unless you'd rather not rule beside a woman, and in that case, I'll assume she's your concubine." The word was a taunt, a mockery of the argument between him and Mai that had sent her spinning into oblivion.

Zuko's brow furrowed intensely then, his eyes stormy at the insult the girl had delivered to him. He recognized the tone, she could see it in his eyes.

"I have neither a wife nor a concubine, Lady Katara. You'll do well to refrain from such comments in my court." Her chest constricted tightly as she realized that Mai wasn't in the picture at all- she wondered, briefly, what the story was there before feeling the burn of her anger at him return.

He'd accepted her challenge. Good, he'd play along with her. The guard next to her trembled in his armor a little, and she cast him a withered glance before stepping forward.

"Five years with no contact except for this one, utterly emotionless letter." She continued, pulling his slightly crumpled invitation from her pocket and tossing it onto the floor in front of him. Her tanned arms crossed over her chest, silver arm bracelets glimmering in the lights that were lit around the hall. Zuko narrowed his eyes at her for a long moment, and she could almost smell the distinct scent of burning wood as his hand clutched the armrest of his throne.

"We didn't exactly part on wonderful terms." He answered bitterly, rising. Katara huffed once, rolling her eyes. She knew he'd put up a fight. Tossing her head, there was a jingling noise as the little shells that were braided into her hair danced together.

"You might as well have put me on Appa yourself and had me removed from your Nation." She spat, her ocean-blue eyes trembling with fury. Zuko descended the throne, standing levelly in front of her, his jaw taut with frustration. She stared for a long moment, her stomach roiling again emptily as she realized how tall he'd gotten. He stood several heads above the waterbender now, his broad shoulders emphasized with huge, golden plates that were carved into intricate patterns.

"I was convinced that you were leaving with the love of your life," The sarcasm in his voice dripped between them, saturating the air stickily. Sarcasm had always been a gift of his.

"Speaking of the world savior, how does he feel about you being ambassador?" Zuko added, and the strange emphasis he put on the word ambassador made her question her purpose for being there.

"He left me. Don't be cruel." Katara hissed, flicking her hand out to the side and gathering a globe of water in her palm. Zuko's eyes suddenly widened in shock, and the venom in his gaze faded somewhat.

"I didn't know that." The softness in his voice, unexpected, made her almost drop the ball of water onto the marble floors with shock. There was the kindness that she'd missed. There was the warmth in his eyes that had been there when she'd told him about her mother. There was her Zuko.

"Why-" He began, lifting his hand towards her as if he wished to skim those calloused hands across the rise and fall of her shoulders, to slip his thumbs over the sharp bones of her cheeks and somehow try to make up for what he'd done.

"La, Zuko, don't even ask. It's not like you really care, now, do you?" She snapped, the words whipped between them with edges sharper than Mai's knives and dewed with the frustration of five years of agony.

"Lady Katara, already arguing with my nephew, are you? It's so good to see you again, my dear." Iroh hovered in the doorway all of a sudden, a jovial smile curving his mouth and a tea cup resting familiarly in his hands. Ashamed, Katara tucked the water back into its pouch and crossed her hands once more as her cheeks pinked with embarrassment. Zuko stepped back, inclining his head to his Uncle once out of formality.

"Iroh, it's so good to see you." She managed a tired smile at the older man, bending forward slightly out of respect for the elder. Iroh's eyes were vanishing into the wrinkles of his face, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of pain in her chest when she realized how old he- and her Gran Gran- were getting.

"Are you quite aware of your position here, my Lady? Due to your frostiness, I'm not sure you are." Iroh stepped further into the room, glancing at his nephew with a look that made Zuko shrink back to his seat. Katara furrowed her brow, confused.

"I'm not sure what you mean." She questioned haltingly.

"I'll be sure to put on a pot of tea, then. It's quite an interesting position. And didn't I tell you to call me Uncle?" He waved to the servant near the door, who scurried off frantically. Zuko looked away sharply, his jaw jutting out in a terribly childish way, making his otherwise regal appearance somewhat ridiculous.

Those gold shoulder pads were a little much.

"Sorry, Uncle." Katara murmured, her head bowed demurely as he approached her and placed a weathered hand on her shoulder. The simple human touch made her relax almost at once, as if she'd forgotten what compassion felt like.

"My dear girl, the elders saw it fit to tie our two nations together in a way that had never been done before. I'm not sure if my somewhat slow nephew forgot to include this in his letter to you, or if he just was ignorant of the truth-"

"Hey!" Suddenly, Zuko was sixteen again, pouting like he had been known for doing. Katara almost wanted to splash him in the face with a little water.

Just a little.

"-but it's been decided that you'll be marrying my nephew."

In the long, awkward pause that followed, Katara's eyes locked with Zuko's as horror dropped her jaw.

Just after that, Zuko found himself completely soaked to the skin.

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xoxo,

nightfall26