Understanding

1. Scroll

- The beginning of knowledge is the discovery of something we do not understand - Frank Herbert. -

Over the past year, Katara had been relatively forced to learn how to deal with many things she hadn't thought she would ever get to experience, let alone cope with the fall-out from. She had to help her brother through the grief of losing a girlfriend, battled for her life against a spoiled prince, and then a princess who made him seem sane and unassuming. She had become friend and companion to the Avatar, healed him when he was injured and shared a kiss with him.

She was considered a hero and a wanted criminal.

She was a Master waterbender in her own right.

After all that, it was the simple act of shopping with Zuko that boggled her mind.

"You didn't have to do this," she reminded him reflexively, despite everything he had done for them, she was still not comfortable being encumbered to Zuko financially on top of everything else. It was fine to receive his expertise and knowledge because those were free to give, but to take money from him seemed to be one too many grains of rice to topple the scale. A prince might not bat an eye at providing meals to a group of growing young adults, but this Zuko was more pauper than prince. "We could have gotten by, somehow."

"Finding good Samaritans in the Fire Nation is difficult when helping the wrong person could get you sent to The Boiling Rock as a traitor," he told her softly so as to not draw attention to his words from bystanders in the marketplace. "Even moreso when every one of us is identifiable."

She thought about that for a second, knowing he was right. It wasn't something she had ever considered, but take away their bending abilities, and every single member of their group was still noticeable in some way. In a land where everyone was pale, she and Sokka stood out with their deeper toned skin that just screamed outsider. Toph was visibly blind – no pun intended – and Aang had those infernal Avatar tattoos that no amount of clothing or hair could possibly hide. Finally, Zuko was the scarred Prince who had made public appearances recently and had since been renounced and branded a traitor. Where his burn scar should have made him blend in with other war-injured men his age, it stood out instead, as his wanted poster was the most accurate and the outcry against his betrayal more violent than the hate for the Avatar. "What would you do?" she asked casually.

Zuko looked at her curiously, knowing she wasn't talking about what he would do to hide their appearances. He had already taught her how to mix a rice-based makeup that lightened her skin and hid the parts of his scar not covered by an eyepatch from view. "I would put wanted posters up at every crossroads and town center across the Nation," he told her. "I would send out messengers to describe each of us and offer rewards for the capture of one or all of us."

"It's been done," she told him.

"I'm not finished," he interrupted her. "I would place plays like the one we saw, promising the defeat of the Avatar and my own supremacy. I would pick off the weaker ones of the group and either kill them or keep them captive as bait. I would place spies in my own country..."

Katara stopped him by placing a hand on his arm. A shiver went down her spine as she realized he was considering what he would do if he was his father, and merging the two in his mind was making a scowl cross his features. In her mind, there was a distinct separation between the son and the father, but she couldn't help but wonder if part of Zuko's redemption was based in the idea that he couldn't see the line anymore.

Not that she was complaining. Despite a part of her that wondered what his motives were, she was becoming more and more convinced that they were at least genuine. So really, she owed Sadist Father of the Year a thank you card. Without Zuko, she was pretty sure the morale of their group would have sunk deeper than one of Sokka's unmanned underwater machines.

"You didn't bother capturing any of us," she said, ignoring the whole tree incident. And their fight for Aang in the North.

He looked at her, probably wondering at her selective memory and finally seemed to realize she was offering the words as a weak peace-offering for starting the conversation in the first place. "Only for lack of opportunity."

"Oh?" she responded archly. "I seem to remember tons of times you could have captured me."

Instead of sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck like usual, he smirked at her. "Yeah, but I realized very early on that you wouldn't be worth the trouble it took to keep you."

Katara faltered in her steps, before laughing and agreeing with him. Something in the back of her mind niggled at his wording and told her it wasn't nearly as funny as she was making it out to be. "That's possibly the only smart decision you ever made."

Whatever response he had to that was interrupted by Sokka running up to them from one of the stores on Katara's left. "Guys," he exclaimed. "You'll never believe what I just found. That vendor over there has a genuine zeboar hide boomerang pouch with matching shoes and hat. I only need three more gold pieces and I can have the whole set."

"Sokka," Katara said sternly, giving him the evil-eye she had learned from her grandmother. "Don't you dare ask for that money. Zuko literally scavenged the metal in his house so we could eat. What I'm holding in my hand used to be his mother's haircomb. His mother's! How would you feel if it was our mom's—"

"Ok," Sokka exclaimed, holding his hands up in front of him to fend off her verbal attack. "I get the point, Katara. Geez, who died and made you queen of the Fire Nation?"

She gaped at her brother. He did not just say that. Of all the insensitive, bone-headed things for... eugh! Sometimes she wondered if they were really actually related. Katara wanted to look to see what Zuko's reaction was, but she was too busy staring her brother down in incredulous disbelief.

"Uh," Sokka stuttered, his eyes flicking back and forth between the expressions on both their faces. "You're right. The hat would be too much anyway. I'd look like a gay cowsheep herder and IgottogosorryboutyourmomBYE."

"That was awkward," Katara said slowly.

Zuko shrugged. "I'm not being as self-sacrificing as you think. Remember what I told you my father told me right before I left?"

"This money still used to be something that belonged to her," Katara reminded him gently. "Whether she's dead or not, it was still something she owned. Something she put in her hair. I'm sorry Sokka is an idiot."

"We can't pick our family. At least he's not... well, you know. My family."

"Well, now you know why I asked you along to help carry the rice. His magpie tendencies are a shameful family secret. I'm pretty sure he could be lured into a dark alleyway by promising him a jewelled dragon and a free gift."

Zuko snorted in laughter and then pursed his lips together and gave her an impassive look.

"So you do have a sense of humour," she mused, hiding her own smile as she teased him. "I was beginning to wonder."

"So your mind isn't as pure of thought as you let on," he bantered back. "I was beginning to wonder."

Life was so much easier when she hated him. "I'll keep your secret if you keep mine," she told him, sending a slight smile in his direction from over her shoulder. And Agni, was she flirting with him? The sinking feeling in her stomach told her she might be.

He didn't say or do anything, just looked at her for a moment before turning and continuing heading through the market, pausing to check the ripeness of an orango.

"Fruit doesn't have a long shelf-life," she reminded him, her voice a little wistful as she looked at the green and orange orbs. "We need rice and maybe some vegetables. And since we're not in the wild anymore, we may need to buy some meat from the butcher's." Katara wrinkled her nose at the thought of spending her good money on meat on the verge of going bad, the sour scent masked by strong Fire Nation spices.

"No," Zuko told her, the only indication of his distaste.

Katara wasn't surprised he wasn't talking to her anymore. She never would have pegged Prince Zuko, the soldier who tormented and sneered at her verbally and visibly every time they met, to be the silent, retrospective type, but he was. And it wasn't as though their conversation had started off on a high note. She wouldn't be in a talking mood if someone subtly reminded her of a past she was trying to atone for and then reminded her of the reason her life was so messed up by bringing her family into it. Really, Katara considered herself lucky he got quiet these days instead of angry, or she'd probably be in the process of fending off his fire.

But she also couldn't help but wonder where his anger went. Was he storing it inside himself until one day he simply blew, or had it completely disappeared? Or was it that he never really had it, that everything up until the point he joined them was simply bluster. Katara was sure that wasn't that case. She was sure that no one, not even Zuko, could fake the level of hate and fury she had seen in his eyes. What she thought more likely was that it had only been directed at her and the Avatar on the surface, but beneath that he was really furious at himself with a deeper level of hatred towards his father.

Now that he was working on the path against Ozai and was back in control of his own destiny, all that rage in his soul had stopped boiling over and he was able to direct the energy into defeating his father.

Or at least that was the impression Katara had come to during her late-night worrying sessions when she would try to figure out his motivations because, let's face it, 1. It was better than worry about their impending dooms, and 2. She still wasn't 100% sure he wasn't going to turn on them. 90%, but not 100.

Zuko was now haggling strongly with one of the merchants, surprising her with his unwillingness to take the rice at the marked up price. He was looking at her in concern, and she realized she had probably been scowling at him pretty intently for the last few minutes.

"This is robbery!" the merchant exclaimed, giving Zuko a bag of rice at a fairly good deal. A ghost of a smile appeared around Zuko's eyes at that before he paid the man, bowing in respect before taking the sack of rice.

"Come on," he told her, the sack effortlessly slung over his shoulder and a net full of vegetables in his fist. "Let's go see if the butcher has anything fresh."

"Nekkid Ladies," one of the vendors crooned over to the side. His cart was covered in displays of scrolls with scandalously clad women painted on them in garish colors. "You!" He exclaimed, zeroing in on Zuko. "You look like a healthy young man with needs. Girlfriend not doing it for you, huh?" he asked, sliding Katara a knowing look.

Zuko's lips thinned in disapproval.

"I have just what you need," the old pervert said slyly, his eyes still wandering over to Katara's chest. He flipped open a scroll with a flick of his wrists. "A busty waterbender!"

Katara's yelp of horror was strangled by both horror and embarrassment as the scroll unravelled to show the image of a woman clad in her underwrapping, looking like a pretty accurate image of herself. Only, the cloth was completely wet and transparent, and the look on her face was an invitation Katara was pretty sure she had never sent out.

She pointed, her face frozen in indignation and her finger twitching as she tried to say something, anything, beyond the urge to shoot the entire contents of a nearby water trough over the man's head.

Zuko's reaction was far less controlled. His mouth fell open and he gaped for a moment, vegetables falling out of his fingers as his face went red and then white. He then reached out and grabbed the man by the collar, lifting him off his feet. "Where did you get this?" he asked in a low voice.

Katara was startled out of her dismay by the question, realizing what Zuko was getting at. He thought that this wasn't the only scroll in existence, and Katara blushed at the thought of men all over the Fire Nation owning pornography with her on it.

How dare they? She finally became furious, snapping the scroll out from the man's fingers. Zuko barely paid her any mind as he dug his fingers into the man's windpipe. "Where?" he asked again, voice menacing.

"Travelling salesman," he croaked. "Came through a few hours ago."

"Is this the only copy you bought from him?" Zuko questioned, ignoring the fact they were starting to draw glances from bystanders.

"Yes."

"Check the cart," Zuko told her, and Katara hurried over to try. It became obvious very quickly that not only was the scroll not the only one, but all the others on display could easily be girls just like her, their image taken unawares and used for this disgusting smut.

"No," she yelled back to Zuko, feeling disgust coil in her stomach. She had hoped there was only one, but now that reality shattered through that naive wish, she knew that they were probably everywhere. It made her want to throw up.

"Stand back," Zuko commanded, and she automatically took a step backwards, her mind not even comprehending his intent until his fist shot out and fire flared through the air, immediately hitting the cart and causing it to combust into quick, hot flames. Katara watched as he threw the vendor down into the water trough, feeling a bit of glee as the water enveloped him, sloshing out of the container until there wasn't enough left to save the cart.

Her bending powers only did a bit of the work.

Zuko jerked his head in the direction of camp and he took off running through the crowd in the opposite direction. Fire Nation guards arrived on scene just in time to see him flee, and they took off in pursuit, their heavy feet tromping through the dry, dusty road until bystanders began to cough from a combination of smoke and dust.

She counted at least half a dozen good-sized men in the typical Fire Nation uniform hot on Zuko's tail.

Good luck to them, Katara thought with a snort as she walked back in the opposite direction. She needed to find Sokka and they had to leave, now. She didn't have to look far, as he was drawn to the commotion like an antmoth to a flame.

"What's the hullaballoo?" Sokka asked, peering over her head as she held him back.

"Zuko," she said in a hushed whisper and a meaningful look.

Sokka whistled. "Did someone try to sell his majesty second grade vegetables?"

Katara pinched Sokka's ear, dragging him down towards her.

"IEOwowowowowwww, Katara!"

"Don't be an idiot Sokka," she told him, letting go of his ear so she could grab the sleeve of his shirt and drag him out of the market. "He was defending me from some degrading old pervert for your information, so I suggest you adjust your attitude."

"You're lecturing ME about ZUKO?" Sokka asked incredulously. "Wait, what do you mean by defending you from a pervert? Did someone do something to you?"

"Eugh!" Katara exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air at her brother's obliviousness. "Do you think I would have stood there and waited for Zuko to protect me if someone had? No!"

"Well what am I supposed to think you crazy woman?" Sokka yelled back. "First you said that Zuko defended you from some lech, and then you get angry at me and say you can defend yourself. Would you make up your mind?"

"I know, I know," she said, waving aside his point. "I'm just a little upset, ok? It wasn't anything bad, so don't worry about my honor. He just ended up burning down one of those carts selling smutty images over it."

Sokka whistled again, his eyebrows rising to his hairline, and Katara realized she had said too much. Now he'd want the full story, and there was no way she was telling her overprotective brother that there was a scroll out there with her on it. He would probably try to take out Zuko's eyes with his space-sword just for seeing it.

"We've got to get back to the boat," she told him, dragging on him again. "Who knows whether Zuko will need us to make a quick getaway or not."

"Where is the lunatic?"

Katara eyed her brother, thinking this was one of those pot/kettle situations, where the one accused the other of being black. "Being chased by the guard," she finally answered.

"Quick getaway?" Sokka echoed. "He'll probably come running up with fifty on his tail! We'll be lucky to get out alive. Why did you convince me not to bring my astro-sword?" he wailed.

"He isn't you," Katara snapped. In truth, it was more likely that Zuko had already slipped the guards and would beat them back to the boat. She just hoped he had managed to do it with the food.

x.x.x.x.x

They met in front of Appa, two figures dressed completely in black and prepared for stealth. Zuko merely nodded at her presence as he continued to strap the saddle on the flying bison. Appa remained silent, watching them both through intelligent eyes and made the process easy for Zuko by standing when necessary and kneeling to allow them both to scamper onto his back.

They left the ground with barely a sound and a silent understanding between the two of them. Katara knew she needed to find the man responsible for the scroll images in her likeness and it didn't surprise her that Zuko anticipated that. It also didn't surprise her that he was finishing the pursuit he started that morning. He always had been thorough about things like that.

The night was perfect for secrecy. A covering of clouds made Appa virtually impossible to see and the wind would cover any ungainly or loud footsteps Katara accidentally made once they were on the ground. She knew from their last midnight adventure that Zuko could move softer than a breeze and quicker than the lightening he claimed to be able to deflect. It was like poetry in motion, beautiful and deadly and not even close to being what she expected of him.

She thought that half the twigs she accidentally stepped on could have been avoided if she was able to keep her eyes off his back.

Finally, he landed Appa at a town half a day's walk from the one they had visited that morning. "How do you know this is the right direction?" she asked softly, finally breaking the silence. "The right town?"

"Stay here and I'll ask around," he told her, pulling on a red tunic that had been bundled in the back of the saddle.

"No," she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

He sighed. "Katara, the first place I'm going is somewhere not fit for a good girl like you, peasant from the water tribe or not."

She opened her mouth to ream him out, but he spoke first.

"Look, I promise that the moment I find out the man we're looking for is in town I'll come get you, but unless you make an issue of it, I find it unnecessary to bring you to a whore house."

Katara gaped at him for a moment. True, she didn't really want to go into a whore house, especially in the form-fitting outfit she was currently wearing and with the possibility her picture had been shown around. On the other hand, she also didn't want to give into this point, or he'd probably remember and exploit it like a weakness. Katara couldn't stand the thought of being the type of person to stay back in safety just because something was unpleasant.

In fact, she wasn't that person. How dare he manipulate her into even considering it!

Before she even said anything, Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't," he told her, sounding suddenly tired. "How about we compromise? You can come with me into town, but wait for me and let me do the legwork. Remember how good I am at the tracking part?"

She stared at him, trying to think of ulterior motives. Not finding any that made sense, she glared just to let him know where he stood. "Fine," she said. Then, realizing how hostile she sounded when he was just trying his best to accommodate her, she continued with "I'd think a whore house isn't a very fit place for a prince either."

She could see him smile at her from the dark. "You'd be surprised."

Half an hour later he came back to the tree she was perched in. Katara swung down easily, landing behind him with a whisper as her feet hit ground. He turned immediately, not even bothering with a defensive stance. That told her that he knew where she was the entire time, despite the pains she took to hide herself.

"He's in an inn on the other side of town," he told her.

Katara smiled in the dark as she followed him. He dodged between buildings so quickly and effortlessly it was difficult for even her to distinguish him from shadows. They played this game for a few minutes before he stopped outside a larger building and nodded his head at one of the rooms.

She watched as he quickly scaled the wall, despite the fact Katara couldn't really see any footholds. There wasn't glass over the window, simply a heavy curtain, so once Zuko was perched on the window ledge he drew the material back and looked in.

He nodded to her, gesturing for her to come up. Katara quickly uncapped her water skin, bending the water out and throwing it into the shape of stairs up to the window. She quickly climbed to him, securing her mask over her mouth on the way up. Zuko's was already on, and in the dark she could only see the shapes of his eyes. He seemed to be laughing at her.

Or maybe it was only excitement of a hunt that didn't have to end in complete violence and destruction? She was feeling a bit of thrill at that as well.

Zuko entered the room first, holding the curtain open for her so she could step into the window from the last step. She melted the water back into her pouch after her, her eyes adjusting to the sudden light of a burning lamp in the room.

"Wake up," Zuko commanded, his voice a hiss. "Wake up!" He kicked the bed, causing the man to bolt into a sitting position and stare at them with wild eyes.

"I don't have money!" he claimed, eyes immediately sliding towards a bag beside the bed. Katara was willing to bet that there was money, or at least something valuable in it.

"Look at his hands," Zuko said, pointing out the ink-stained fingers. "This is the man."

Katara nodded to show she recognised what he was saying. She had already seen half-completed scrolls on the table. None were hers, which she was insanely grateful for. She might have lost control of her anger if faced with one of the unfinished products proving he was actively thinking about her.

"You put my friend here in one of your pictures," Zuko said menacingly. "That hot little water bending number? She wasn't too happy about it, let me tell you. And believe me, you don't want to anger a waterbender."

"I didn't draw a waterbender," the man claimed, cowering on the bed.

Zuko nodded towards the man's satchel. For a second she was disinclined towards following his unspoken order, but then she realized it felt good to have someone take control and look after her for a change after all the work and effort she put into protecting everyone else in their makeshift family. Katara started taking out scrolls at random, noticing with a sharp raise of her eyebrows that not all of them were of women, until she came across the one of her. She snapped it open and showed it to the two men.

"There should be a ledger of who commissioned him to make it and how many," he told her, eyes still on the artist.

Katara found it already opened on the table. "He made five for the vendor in the last town," she said with relief. "And one for someone in Ignai last week."

"It's new!" the artist claimed.

"It looks like he's telling the truth," she informed Zuko. "It's the last one on the list and those are the only places orders were filled."

"It's going to sell great! Every firebender is hot to get his hands on a cool little number like her."

"You're never going to draw her again, you understand me?" Zuko asked coldly.

"How are you going to stop me? Are you going to kill me? Because I think you would have done it already."

"I don't have to do anything to you. Do you know why the Fire Nation is frightened of waterbenders? It isn't because water can put out fire, or because if given the chance they could rule the oceans. It's because they can take the blood in your body and freeze it like ice. How will you draw again if she freezes your fingers off from the inside out?"

The artist was looking at Zuko in horror.

"Can you feel your hands going cold?"

The lecherous artist's throat was working nervously, fingers clenching and unclenching. "Yes," he swallowed.

"You won't ever draw the waterbender again or you'll wish I took mercy on you and cut your fingers off with a knife. You don't know pain until you anger a water tribeswoman. I recommend trying your hand at nature scenes."

Zuko took the prototype scroll from Katara and incinerated it in his hand.

"You're lucky," he told the cowering artist. "Ice slide," he hissed at Katara, grabbing her waist and jumping out the window. Katara slid frozen water beneath their feet, solidly finishing parts of the slide mere seconds before their feet moved over it. Zuko was in control still, keeping both of them upright as she concentrated on forming a slide that was both functional and impressive.

She went a little too far with the curled lip of the slide and suddenly the two of them were soaring through the air with no bison or airbender to help them. Zuko twisted the two of them midflight, managing to use a ledge on the building next door to volt them onto the roof.

They landed almost jarringly, but Zuko kept them both upright with what seemed to be the sheer force of his will. He sent fire back towards her frozen bending, melting the evidence behind them. In the light of the quick flame, she could see the artist watching them, eyes gaping, and Katara felt her stomach sink as she realized who the next muse for his art would come from.

Zuko let go of her waist and grabbed her hand, hurrying her over the top of the roof and to the other side. He crouched at the side and then pushed off with his hands, minimizing his fall by almost a meter. He landed softly and turned back towards her. Katara gestured for him to get out of her way. She might let him deal with some perverted artist without saying a word because he was far more intimidating than she was, and it wasn't like he was threatening the man himself. It was more like he was threatening him for her, which appealed to her vanity in a way that it shouldn't.

Really, Katara thought, she should be angry at him.

But there was no way she was allowing him to catch her when she jumped off a roof. If he could do it, she could do it. She could even do it better.

Or not, the realization dawned on her as she landed awkwardly on her foot and went over on it painfully.

Zuko, for his part, allowed her to make the jump on her own but was there to grab her arm and lift her off the ground before she wrenched her foot entirely in the fall.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Put me down and let me check," she said moodily, wincing as her foot met ground. She went to pull water out of her pouch, but found it was empty. She looked sourly at her foot. "I'll make it back ok."

"Mmhmm," he agreed. "And then you won't be able to walk on it for days."

"I'm fine!" she responded hotly, immediately clamping a hand over her mouth at the sound of her voice breaking through the evening.

"Don't be stubborn," he warned her. "Get on my back."

She glared at him, hoping all her arguments were being conveyed with her eyes. He stared back at her, just as immovable.

Katara wasn't sure how long they stayed in that tableau of intense stares, but she was sure the perverted artist would have had enough time to immortalize the image on a canvas before she finally looked away with a brusque "fine."

She didn't talk to him until they were back on Appa and the wind of flying finally cooled down the hot flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

"That thing about freezing blood? That was smart. I didn't even have to do anything to the air around him and now every time his hands get cold he'll remember me."

Zuko nodded.

"I've been wondering why you didn't use my bloodbending to threaten him. It probably would have been far more effective."

"I didn't want him to know you could do that. He might know who you are and it might get back to my family. Besides, if I made you demonstrate bloodbending, you'd blame me when the heat of the moment faded and you felt guilty about it."

Katara thought about that and realized that he might possibly know her better than she thought.

x.x.x.x.x

Katara healed her ankle after they got back, the cool water doing more to restore her foot more than the actual act of healing it did. She felt she couldn't sleep, her mind still racing about everything and the adrenalin not ebbing. Finally, she grabbed the scroll and went to sit on the top stair leading from the house to the ocean.

"Are you ok?" Zuko asked, his hand falling heavily on her shoulder. Katara jumped, fumbling as she tried to hide the scroll from him. "What are you – oh!" His eyebrow winged up. "I didn't... I mean, I wasn't... I didn't expect you to keep one."

Katara sighed, spreading out the image of herself again and resting it on her lap. "I don't know why," she told him, completely missing his look of relief when he saw it. "I should get rid of it. I just grabbed it in the market and hid it in my skirt and then forgot about it. I can't stop thinking that even if we stopped them from being made, there are still who-knows-how-many out there. Maybe just the one, but maybe more."

Zuko sat down next to her, his presence warm and comforting against her chilled skin. "This is probably a small comfort, but there are entire series of stuff like that about me out there. Worse stuff."

"Really?" Katara asked, her voice sounding far more interested than she meant it to. She couldn't help but look at him in both surprise and hope. The hope was, of course, for someone having more embarrassing smut out there to worry over.

"I'm the crown prince," he told her with a smirk and faux conceit. "Of course I'm widely lusted after by many."

Katara snickered. "Oh really?" she asked, drawing out the syllables in disbelief. "Are you sure you didn't just pose for these things back in Ba Sing Se to help your uncle fund his Tea Shop?"

"No!" Zuko exclaimed, horrified. "I would never! That would be demeaning and demoralizing and... not that I think you're demeaned or... do you think I could have?" he finished his bluster by asked, a slight blush against his features in the moonlight.

Katara sat back and laughed, grasping at his arm as giggles wracked her body. The scroll rolled off her lap and landed on the ground. "Oh Agni, that's hilarious. You were all like –" She frowned, then she looked horrified, and then her face turned thoughtful, all of these expressions done in major caricatures of normal expressions.

Zuko pursed his lips.

"Sure you could," she continued, still giggling between sentences. "In fact, if this whole saving-the-world thing doesn't work out for you, you could probably still make a career out of it. We could probably do it together."

Zuko's head snapped towards her and Katara stopped laughing, her heart stuttering up to her throat.

"I meant you do some and I do some, but not together together," she clarified with a blush. "Can we stop talking about this now? Forget about it completely?"

"Absolutely," Zuko agreed, gingerly picking the scroll up off the ground. "I can take care of that for you," he said, fire appearing in the palm of his other hand.

"No!" Katara exclaimed, grabbing it from him, at the last moment realizing he had been testing her. If he was really going to burn it he could have done so immediately, and she wouldn't have had time to stop him. "I want to keep it," she muttered.

He silently handed it to her, flopping back onto his back beside her. "I'd keep it too. Then when I get old..."

"That's not it," she told him, allowing herself to fall backwards and lie next to him, staring up at the stars underneath his sky. She opened the scroll above her head so they could both look up at it, making sure the woman in the image was only visible from the shoulders up. "I didn't know I could look so-" she quailed, at a loss for adjectives she could use, especially in front of him.

"Sultry," he asked in a whisper, his lips so close to her ear she inhaled sharply.

"Powerful," she breathed back.

"I knew." They were both silent for a moment and then Zuko cleared his throat. "And some day," he continued, "you'll look at someone like the woman in this painting is, and you'll feel it too."

Katara shivered, her reaction hidden by his movements as he stood.

"Goodnight Katara."

She closed her eyes and didn't look at him.