Zuko's life was hell, back in the Fire Nation. His father was an abusive dick who took full advantage of his position in the country's law enforcement to do plenty of illegal things. His mom left with his sister in the middle of the night when he was thirteen. He always wondered why they didn't take him with them. For years he tolerated his father's abuse until one day he hit his breaking point, when he was seventeen. All he'd done was ask a question. One simple fucking question and his father thought it was appropriate to burn his fucking face off in return.

That's when he killed him. Flambeed the bastard until he was charcoal, then burned him some more until he was ash. Dumped that fucker's ashes in the dirt then left the country. He had no money, so all he could do was stow away on some ship headed for the Earth Kingdom. Eventually he made his way to Ba Sing Se, where his uncle lived, having to cross the Serpent's Pass since he had no way to get on that stupid ferry.

His uncle, Iroh, owned a small tea shop in the Lower Ring of the city. It was modest and he did not make much money, but it was his own. When Zuko first arrived in that shop, Iroh took one look at him and enveloped him in a hug. He was grateful that he didn't have to say anything, that his uncle never asked why he was there.

Katara was from the Southern Water Tribe. When she was just twelve, her tribe was attacked by a large band of pirates. Her mother had urged her to flee while she still could, lest she be raped, murdered, or worse, taken as a prisoner for them to use as they liked. And flee she did. She arrived in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se a month before her birthday.

She was young, confused, alone, and vulnerable with no place to go. There was one man who took advantage of this. Try as she might to block out the horrible memory, his face haunted her as long as she lived. However, she had been lucky enough to be found by a kind old woman afterwards. Her name was Yin, and she allowed Katara to stay with her.

Katara was grateful and, after taking a few days to recover at Yin's insistence, she began looking for work. Yin made barely enough to cover rent and her own needs, so Katara knew she would have to find something. She managed to find a little part time work at a fish market. It was the most she could find but, even then, it was only just enough to pay for her own meals and help with the rent some.

When Katara was barely fourteen, Yin died. Katara mourned her, of course, but she also panicked. Her meager work was not nearly enough to provide for her and allow her to keep the apartment. Once more, she went to every single business within a half a mile of the apartment, looking for work. Once more, she came up empty handed. She had expected as much, the Lower Ring was full of desperate people like herself and she was sure there was no shortage of willing people to fill any position.

Katara was desperate. She had her little work but she needed more than that, even just something else she could add to it. It was then that she remembered that man's face and all the men who had leered and shouted lewd things at her whenever she went to work or to do errands. Then, it hit her. She already had consumers, all she needed was to provide a product or, in this case, a service. She hated the idea of selling herself to those men but she was desperate, and the more she thought about it, the more she rationalized it, and it didn't seem that bad. It was necessary, though unpleasant, and less horrible than some of the other things she could do.

It took some time for her to learn and get used to her new profession but within weeks she was doing well and it no longer bothered her as much as it had. She was eternally grateful for her bending which allowed her to fight off the violent ones and heal herself when she got hurt. It certainly helped to be able to erase all the bruises and scrapes in between customers, since it made all of them feel a little special, since she appeared untouched. It turned out to be a good thing that she took up her second job as, only a few months later, she lost her job at the fish market.

Since Iroh's tea shop was over four miles from Katara's apartment, it took some time for her and Zuko to cross paths. When they did, Zuko was twenty and Katara was eighteen. It was one morning that they both happened upon each other at a market. Iroh had made Zuko walk three and a half miles to go to that particular market as he insisted it had the best honey. Zuko made this trip every few months, carrying back dozens of bottles in baskets. That morning, Katara happened to be doing her food shopping for the week at the same time.

As Katara was perusing some mangoes, she felt someone press up against her, putting an arm around her waist. To any who saw, it seemed normal and relaxed, but Katara could feel the tension in his arm, a subtle threat. It was San, one of her more regular customers. As much as his closeness stressed her, she forced herself to relax, curling her mouth into an easy smile as she continued examining the fruits.

"Good morning, San. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I think you mean 'to whom'," he growled lowly in her ear. She smirked.

"Oh, so I owe you, then? Since when and how much?"

She made a bit of a show of pulling out her coin purse. Even though she had expected him to do something of the sort, it was a bit surprising when he grabbed her wrist, hard. He dragged her away from the fruit stand into a nearby alleyway. He leaned in to her face and Katara had to admit she was scared, between his expression of pure lust and aggression and his rather violent body language.

"You forget yourself, whore. You live for me and because of me. It is my generosity that allows you to live." Katara snorted.

"You buy the product I sell. No more no less." His face twisted into a glare.

"Ungrateful bitch! You think I couldn't just take it?" Her blood froze in her veins. She saw that man's face instead of San's when she looked at him.

"Let go of me." It was little more than a whisper.

"What's that? I can't hear you." The sadistic grin on his face made her insides curdle.

"I said fuck off you piece of shit!"

She hadn't meant to actually yell that. Too late. He punched her. Hard. But then, something incredible happened. Before she could even so much as summon some water, someone yanked the brute away from her, slamming him into a wall.

"She said 'fuck off', fish dick." Her rescuer was tall and pale with shaggy black hair. He stood with his back to her, though, so she couldn't see his face.

"What the fuck are you gonna do about it?"

San got back to his feet, drawing a dagger from his boot. The other man drew a sword from his back (she assumed he had a scabbard hidden under his cloak) but then he split the sword into two, coating the blades in golden flames.

"Kill you."

His tone was chilling. When she heard him say that, she had no trouble believing that he could and would actually murder San. Clearly, San heard it too, since he then made the wise decision to put his knife away and leave, his tail between his legs, throwing empty comments and threats over his shoulder. Then, once San was gone, the man extinguished his flames and put the swords away, finally turning to face Katara. She gasped.

He was stunningly beautiful. His skin was pristine ivory and his eyes were liquid gold. His facial features looked as though they had been carved by the most skilled sculptor. The way his hair hung in his face perfectly offset the hard marble features of his face with its softness. Then there was the scar. Half of his face was covered in a red, angry scar. Some might have thought it ugly but she found it most appealing. He scratched the back of his head, a bit awkwardly.

"Ah, yeah, sorry, the scar can be a bit startling." He must have heard her gasp. She reached out and touched it, gently caressing it with her fingertips.

"It's beautiful…" she whispered, blushing and swiftly retracting her hand upon realizing she had voiced her thoughts. He blushed as well. She cleared her throat. "What I meant to say was, thank you for helping me."

"You're welcome."

"What can I do to thank you?" Katara felt obligated to thank him properly somehow. It wasn't every day someone went as far as drawing swords to defend her. He shook his head.

"You don't have to do anything."

"No, I'm serious," she insisted. "I can offer money, sexual favors, or food. Your choice."

He was shocked, to say the least, at how easily she offered to have sex with him. The way she said it, too, left no room for doubt that she *was* serious and that she would actually do that if he asked.

"Um, in that case, would you be willing to buy me a mango?" She cocked an eyebrow at him and he rushed to explain. "My uncle owns a tea shop about four miles away and he made me walk here to get honey." He gestured to the baskets he had set aside nearby. "After walking that far, I'm a bit hungry, and mangoes are my favorite." She grinned at him.

"Alright, then come with me. You get to choose the fruit and make sure it's to your liking."

They went back to the fruit stand and, after some deliberation, Zuko chose his mango. Katara paid for it, but not before she added a couple more perfect mangoes to the bag. She handed it to him, smiling.

"Once again, thank you."

"Really, it was no problem. Oh!" He snapped his fingers. "My uncle's tea shop is the Jasmine Dragon. You should stop by sometime for a cup of tea."

"You're right, I should."

Then, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

A little over a week later, Katara made her way to the Jasmine Dragon. It was a quaint little shop and she found it rather appealing. When she went in, there were only a few customers, as it was rather late. It was halfway between winter and spring, so it was dark out even though it was still afternoon. She approached the counter where Zuko was. He smiled at her when he looked up and saw her.

"You didn't say how lovely your uncle's shop is."

"You should tell him that, I think it would make his week." She chuckled. "I'm sorry, I just realized that I never actually introduced myself to you, the other day. I'm Zuko." He extended a hand, which she shook.

"Katara," she answered with a smile.

"Nice to meet you, well, properly, at least. Oh and thank you for the mangoes, they were delicious."

"No problem, that was my thank-you, after all." Zuko nodded.

"Yeah, that's right." Suddenly, his expression got serious. "That guy didn't come back later, did he? I know I stepped in but later on, when I wasn't around, he could have done something." She shook her head.

"No, I haven't seen him since that day, don't worry."

"Good. If he comes back, be sure to tell me so I can kill him, okay?"

"Okay."

Her heart was racing. How could he say such things so easily? How could he be willing to kill someone for her, a stranger, or at least be willing to threaten it? Didn't he know she wasn't worth it? That she was just some whore?

"Why don't you take a seat and I'll bring out some tea."

Nodding, she took a seat in a corner that was partially shrouded in shadow. He came over a moment later with a pot of gunpowder green and two cups. He poured the tea and they sat there, sipping from their cups for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air until Katara couldn't take it anymore and had to ask the question that was burning in her throat.

"Zuko, why is it that you are so willing to defend me? And why is it that you can so casually say you'll kill someone and somehow sound completely serious?" He sighed.

"I defended you because you needed help. I can't turn my back on those who need me. As for the other, it's a combination of things. In the alley, that guy would have raped you and he very well might have killed you as well. If he hadn't backed down I would have had to end his life in order to actually protect you from that. If he had come back afterwards, I would have had to kill him to protect you, or worse, to avenge you and your honor. I guess that's why it sounds like I mean it, because I do."

She really couldn't believe it, that someone was actually willing to kill in order to protect her. That someone out there valued her life enough to do something like that. But also, she laughed. She laughed because she had no honor to avenge. Her honor, her purity, her virtue, it was gone. She had sold it.

"There's none left. There is nothing to avenge." He looked at her, confused.

"What do you mean?" She laughed.
"I sold it, Zuko. I'm a whore."

She didn't know what she thought he would do, how she thought he would react. What she was sure of was that she did not expect him to take her hands in his and give her that soft, reassuring look.

"No one can take your honor from you nor can you give it away or sell it. You sold sex. Sex is not honor and, likewise, rape is not a sale. If someone took that from you, that would be theft, at the very least, so then I could and I would still defend you and get justice for you." Tears began to fall from her eyes.

"How can you say that? We don't even know each other so why, how can you say something like that so easily? Can't you see that I'm not worth it? That I'm filthy?"

"I murdered my father a few years ago." Katara stopped crying, looking at him in shock. "It was because of this." He pointed to his scar. "All I did was ask a question. One. Simple. Fucking. Question. And he thought it was appropriate to burn half my face off. I filleted him like a fish and burned him until he was a pile of ash. I threw his ashes outside, in the dirt, and then I left the country." Katara could hardly breathe.

"The point is, Katara, that I'm not clean either. My uncle has taught me that, in spite of my sins, my life is still worth living and that I can still be a good person. The same goes for you. You're human and, like anyone else, you've done things that aren't great, you've had to make difficult choices and all of that has shaped you into who you are today. You didn't prostitute yourself because you wanted to, you did it out of desperation. I didn't kill my father because I just wanted to, it was because he had done so much to me, taken so much from me, that when he burned my face I couldn't hold back anymore. That is why I will defend you, because you were driven to this point and none of this was a choice. Even though you might think you're not worth it, I can assure you, you are."

Katara wanted to say something in response to that, but she couldn't, not with the way she was sobbing. He just sat there, holding her hands and stroking her arm, letting her cry. After a while, she stopped.

"Thank you." She offered him a watery smile.

"You're welcome." After checking to make sure she was okay, Zuko excused himself to go speak to his uncle, but not before he heated the tea back up for her.

"Hey, uncle?" Iroh turned around, a gentle smile on his face.

"Yes, nephew?"

"Do you think we could use another server?" His uncle's eyes twinkled knowingly.

"I do. Is there someone you have in mind?" Zuko nodded.

"The girl in the back corner." He pointed. "Her name's Katara. Oh, but she lives a ways away from here. Is there any way we could help with housing?"

"Perhaps. It depends on what your reason is for helping her." Zuko sighed. His uncle was nosy and he knew it but he had hoped that this time he wouldn't be.

"She's a prostitute. When I went to get honey last week, some guy was bothering her and I helped her out. Her job is the kind of thing people only do when they're desperate and you know how few jobs there are around here, so I figure if we take her in we can get her off the streets." Iroh nodded.

"Indeed, I agree that we must help her. Tell her that she can stay with us if she so pleases and work in the shop, as you do."

"Alright, thank you, uncle."

Katara was thrilled when he told her. The first thing she asked was when she could move in. He'd never seen someone so happy to get an apron or so excited about learning the different types of teas (except maybe his uncle). She stayed the night and the next morning, he went with her back to her apartment. She had few belongings, but he helped her pack them and carry them back to the shop. It didn't take her long to settle in and before long, she was an honorary member of their family as well as a great employee.

Katara was happy working in the shop and living with Zuko and Iroh. She was definitely happy to have real work that did not involve having sex with strange men. However, happy as she was, something bothered her or, more specifically, someone.

Zuko.

It bothered Katara so much how he didn't look at her the way the other men did and how he didn't touch her the way they did. Did he not like her? She was quite sure this was at no fault of her own since, even as a waitress rather than a whore, the men in the shop still looked at her like *that* and touched her like *that*. But Zuko never did. More importantly, whenever she made comments about such things, he even looked ill.

Did she disgust him? But then, if that were the case, why did he appear to care about her? Then again, she couldn't help but wonder, if he did care about her, wouldn't he want that? If he cared about her, wouldn't he touch her like that? Look at her like that?

After a while, she'd decided that she had had enough of it. One night, when she knew that Iroh would be going out to play pai sho, while Zuko was cleaning up downstairs, Katara went into his room. She stripped naked and waited on his bed for him to come in. It was only about fifteen minutes later that he entered. His eyes grew huge upon seeing her nude body. She smirked at him.

"Katara, what the fuck?" She frowned. So he didn't like her. She sat up and crossed her arms, pissed off.

"I feel like I'm the one who should be asking you that, honestly." He looked at her, dumbfounded.
"What, did I do something wrong? If so, you should consider talking to me like an adult instead of whatever this" he waved his hand "is." That added fuel to the fire. Getting up, she stalked towards him.

"What's wrong with you? How do you not realize?" Squaring her shoulders, she prepared to launch herself into a lecture. "You claim to like me, to care about me, but you never look at me like they do or touch me like that! What's worse is whenever I say something about stuff like that, you actually look disgusted! Do you not like me? Do I just disgust you? What have I done wrong? It makes no sense and I don't think it's my fault because the men in the shop do look at me and touch me. So tell me, Zuko, what the fuck did I do wrong?" She hated the expression he had, one of pure heartbreak. She couldn't find it in her, though, to fight back when he hugged her.

"You have done nothing wrong, you hear me?" He let go, pulling away from her. "How old were you when you became a prostitute?"

"Fourteen, but I really don't se-"

"That explains it. You don't know what love is." She froze, shocked. "Ever since you were fourteen, ever since you were a fucking child, you'd been doing this, you've been measuring your worth by men leering at you and touching you without your permission. Throughout these years, it's been ingrained in you to determine how much someone likes you, cares about you by how much they want to fuck you." He shook his head and she honestly couldn't remember ever seeing him look so sad.

"I never did that shit for a couple reasons. One, you were trying to escape all that and didn't need me or anyone else feeding back into it. Two, I respect you and care about you as a person, not as some fucking object. Three, the last thing I wanted to do was take advantage of you and your situation. That, Katara, is why I haven't done any of that.

"When you talk about that stuff, it disgusts me, not you. It disgusts me that that was your life for so long and that you can talk about those things so easily. When we first met and you said you wanted to thank me for saving you, you offered sexual favors as a way to express your gratitude, right up there with food and money. That disgusted me because of how little regard you had for yourself and how easily you could offer something like that and now natural it seemed to you. That is what disgusts me, Katara, your circumstances and what you were forced to become, not you."

As she started crying, he once more pulled her into a hug, stroking her hair. They stayed like that for a minute and then Katara pulled back.

"So, you just didn't want to make me feel like I had to do any of that?" He nodded. "But…" she nibbled her lip. "What if I want to do that stuff?" As he looked into her huge blue eyes, he decided she was definitely trying to kill him.

"That's different. As I said, I just didn't want to pressure you or make you feel uncomfortable. If you did actually want to do something, that would be different but, one thing I will say, is that I think you should give yourself time to adjust to a more normal life and learn more about healthy forms of affection and love."

"Would you be willing to teach me?" He smiled at her.

"Of course. But, for now, would you please go put your clothes back on?"

"As you wish."

He blushed as she trotted back to his room to put her clothes back on. Katara was happy. Even if he didn't want to "tear her pussy up" like the men she had serviced, she had no doubt that he cared about her, even more than any of those men. Likewise, she knew very well that she cared about him. Perhaps, eventually, he would let her ride his face or something but, for now, she was satisfied with their little arrangement. And, honestly, she couldn't think of anyone who could better teach her than Zuko.