Ch 11:

The night terrors were what struck her most since his return. He thrashed and screamed, waking the infant with his own tiny whimpers and cries. Untangling herself from his grasp on his fifth morning with them, she attended the fussy child's needs before attending her own. Katara had left her weary lover to sleep. Based on the darkness under his eyes this luxury had not been afforded to him prior to this moment.

Once Itsuki had received his fill from her breast, she kissed his tiny hand and drew the shift back over herself. She rang for the servants to help her dress, but there was no response. She rang again, a little more forcefully this time. Between the undergarments and the gowns, dressing on her own was near impossible. Instead she threw a robe over her nightclothes and opened the bedroom door.

Down the stairs in the foyer, there were urgent conversations. Curiosity taking over despite her state of undress, she started to pad down. The group looked up at her. Former General Iroh stood before the household, their hushed tones belying the urgency of whatever the situation at hand was.

"What is going on here?" Katara inquired, wrapping herself more tightly, knowing full well in her heart it would be of no protection from the evil airs filling the grand entry.

Iroh cast a morose smile her way then returned to speaking to the head mistress, taking her hands in his own. She noticed others batting tears away with kerchiefs. "What has happened? What is this?" Her voice more forceful than intended, breaking in the middle despite herself.

She saw Iroh sigh, pat the elderly woman on the shoulder, and drop a heavy purse into her palm. He then dismissed the servants, feet like blocks, he ascended the stairs to stand beside her. Gently he kissed her knuckles and placed her hand over his heart.

"My nephew has returned?" he inquired. He already knew the answer.

Katara tilted her head, "Yes. Arrived just four nights past. He still sleeps as we speak." Iroh rubbed his chin and nodded. "General! You are to tell me what is happening. Please!"

"We've tried to keep the news from you, during your state," implying the recent birth, "Alas! He has come, and you need to know what is going on." Katara gritted her teeth, she wanted to scream at him to just tell her dammit! "There was a battle…" he began.

She simply waved her hand dismissively. This she already knew from the letters she'd received from Zuko. 'Twas in the outskirts of an Earth Kingdom village.

"No," Iroh corrected, "It was just north of the capital. There was an uprising."

Her hand flew to her mouth, covering her shock. "What…" Her knees grew weak and she felt herself starting to crumble. Guiding her to the chair, he lowered her down, then continued the tale:

She knew that there was rebellion in the air of the country. One can only keep their subjects down for so long before they break. And break they did! The commoners rose arms, funded by the gentry, both domestic and foreign, who would benefit the most from the skirmish, and battled their way to the capital city. Zuko was brought in from the Earth Kingdom to assist against the uprising. They say that Zuko had protested much against the battle, wanting to negotiate peace with their people; Ozai would have none of it.

They took over the capital, Katara. It lasted three weeks until finally they captured both royal father and son. The people have reclaimed their land from their sovereign. The nobles are being gathered and imprisoned. There is so much anger. So much anger. Rumors swell that the Fire Lord's head will be on display soon enough. There will be a trial of course, but their minds have already passed judgement.

There was a great explosion in the wing of the prison, no one knows who or what was the cause, only that Zuko was the sole survivor. He escaped though, with the help of the people. They helped heal his wounds that you see. There are many who love him still. He's been banished from the kingdom. We must help him leave the country before it's too late. We have help there. First, we need to let these events settle.

"This will not end well for any of us." Iroh sighed heavily, the news too much even for his wizened soul.

Katara tried to catch the breath she didn't realize she was holding. It was one thing to read about enlightening the people but quite another to be part of it. And her Zuko! Katara couldn't fathom the horrors he saw amid battle. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and protect him from it all. So much rested on his shoulders: a nation, a dynasty. Alas, it was now gone!

Gathering her bearings, a flurry of questions spilt from her lips, "How much time do we have? Have you spoken to those you know in the Earth Kingdom? Will they accept him? What happened to Princess Starr?"

"It's all been arranged, child," he squeezed her hand giving reassurance that this old dog still had some tricks. "As for the Princess, she returned to her homeland soon after Zuko returned to the capital, when she heard of the child's birth and survival. He tried to reconcile yet she heard none of it. She will be paid handsomely for her discretion and the divorce decree settled by the ministers. The witch is no matter."

Nodding her head, she rose to her feet, nearly feeling her legs give way over the seriousness of the situation. "I shall awaken My Lord than." Jaw set tight; she would not the love of her life fall pray to any more of this… this… political nonsense. It was then a thought hit her. What if she was not included in this? This was not her battle per se. She was nothing. Iroh must have seen that cloud pass over her face, for he answered, "Gather your things. We away to Ba Sing Se tomorrow morn at low tide. Pack as little as possible and borrow your clothes from the servants. I will make sure that they have attire ready for you three."

Tears prickling her eyes, she leaned up and kissed the round man fully on both cheeks. "Thank you," her voice but a whisper.

oooOOOoooOOOooo

When she returned to her rooms, she found Zuko finally awake. Their son cradled in his arms as they stood by the window. They both pondered each other with the same expression of wonderment. The child's paternity was unquestionable.

"I failed," he whispered, hugging the child to his breast. " I failed my country. My father..." he swallowed thickly, eyes closed tight, lost in whatever thought raced through his mind. From the furrow of his brow, she knew much was on his mind. When he opened his eyes again, he ran a finger over the boy's plump cheek and then turned his gaze out the window, the edges of his lips twisted downward. Bowing his head as if in prayer (or curse!) to whatever gods that led him to this point, the dark strands of hair fell like a downpour over his face. "I know I'm not who I was before. For that, I'm sorry. I should have wanted to be a good husband to my wife" the word spat like venom- "and I should have been with her, creating an heir. Instead I've gotten a child- my handsome son!" he lifted him up and kissed his tiny forehead and returned him to the cradle," You did so good, Katara, my beloved! - I should have been a good prince, obedient to my father and the ministers doing what they told me to do. Instead I went against them and this is what I got," hand going to bandages still covering the burns. "A good brother. A good leader. A good man…" His voice shattered as flames erupted from his fists like a river bursting through a dam. So much anger and frustration within dying to escape and finally given the chance. He rushed across the room and grabbed at her holding on for dear life.

"Oh Zuko!" she cried with him, dropping unceremoniously to the floor, kissing his face, his hands, holding him close, "Zuko, my Zuko. Please. Please. You are a wonderful man just simply put in difficult circumstances. I would not want you any other way, my love. My Zuko. Please, good will come of all this. I have hope and faith of that." He whimpered, like a child. "Look at me! Remember this?" She brought her wrist into his view, exposing the golden bracelet with the "Z" surrounded by what looked like butterfly wings. "What is this Zuko?"

"It's my crest." His eyes narrowed, puzzled by where she was going with this train of thought.

Her voice firm, redirecting, "Yes. And what does it mean?"

Zuko's lips upturned and his eyes slid closed. "There is no me without you."

She beamed up at him, "Let that always be a reminder to you. No matter what, it is us. Always but please do not shut me out."

He pulled her in tightly once again. Yes, she was indeed his anchor.

"I recall a time you said you wanted to be a commoner, perhaps there could have been better ways to go about it?" she teased, trying to pull a smile from the despondent man before her. It worked! His lips twitched upwards until he was finally in full roar. Exhaustion must have made him delirious.

oooOOOoooOOOooo

Dressed in the rough fabrics borrowed from the servants, as Iroh had instructed, they had made their way to the docks, blending in with a crowd of other passengers making their way to the ships bound for the Earth Kingdom. They were nothing more than the throng of other citizens on their way to escape from the brewing Civil War. The bandage on Zuko's head matched too many other men and boys on board with them. Katara shivered in the salty air more so from hearing more of what happened. The horrors, indeed!

"Any day now, that bastard's head will be on a pike!"

"Burn the lot of them."

"Down with the royals."

Katara would have been a fool not to feel the anger that brewed within the man next to her as they listened. "Rumors," she'd try to sooth. But they both knew the truth.

oooOOOoooOOOooo

They arrived on the coast of the Earth Kingdom after nearly a month at sea. Zuko paid for the small room in the inn by the docks, shouldering the sack that now held everything they owned. Katara settled in to the room to change out of the salt-crusted clothing of her own and Itsuki's, while he went to... well she truly didn't know. He mumbled something about food, so she let him go.

It had been well past midnight when he finally returned stumbling into the room that was now barely lit with the soft glow of the fireplace. She awoke to the sound of one boot then another, then the rusting of clothes hitting the floor. It was the faint whiffs of alcohol that caught her attention and put her on guard.

In all the years of knowing one another, she'd hardly seen him touch the stuff, aside from a glass of wine of course. One can never presume how the cursed liquid will treat a man.

He lowered onto the mattress, his weight shifting the ropes beneath. Curling in behind Katara, he nuzzled at the back of her neck. With a gentle smile, she rolled over to face him. He said nothing. Simply stared at her as if daring her to stop him from the inevitable. Katara watched, ever aware of what he did. He was physically here next to her, but there was something off. His hand roamed down her arm pulling her palm to his mouth. Slowly he kissed each digit, then the wrist inhaling her scent before nipping at the flesh. He drew it up guiding it around his neck asking to be held without saying a word. Held him she did. As if she could ever let him go.

"Katara," her name became his mantra, landing hot open mouth kisses where ever he could reach. His hand cupped the weight of her breast, fuller than he remembered them being. She was thankful the child had sucked them dry hours before. But then he roughly squeezed, pushing her onto her back. His mouth crushed against hers and she could taste the repulsive sourness of fire whiskey on him. His knees pushed her thighs apart.

"I need you," the words turned to a snarl. He shoved up her shift to expose the sinful length of legs and that which was at the apex. With a rough thrust, his fingers plunged into her body. She was still sensitive after the birth and with no preparation, the pain took her by surprise; she cried out from anything but pleasure. The flashbacks to Zhao all those years ago ran through her head and pained tears filled her eyes. She would never go through that again! And not by this man she loved.

"Zuko!" She pounded his chest, flailing her body trying desperately to get out from underneath him. "What are you doing? Stop it."

The loving mantra of her name fell way to a vile string of demands. "Need you... My wife now. Have you. All of you. Do what I say," the words slurred together over and over. Zuko's mouth was latched onto her neck, teeth bared as he bit down. He had pinned her arms above her head, his hips ground against hers trapping her beneath the heavy weight of his form, his need painfully obvious. This wasn't him at all. "Mine."

"You're drunk!" she hissed and clawed, "You would rape your own wife!" The emphasis on that word finally managed to bring Zuko back to sanity. Katara rolled away to press against the wall, quivering in fear of him. She pulled the shift closed and drew her legs up protectively into a ball. Slapping him hard against the cheek, she ordered him away from her. "What is wrong with you, Zuko? Leave! Now!"

He sat back on his heels, eyes wide as the dawning of what had transpired shook him to the core. What he'd nearly done to her – his love! - was too much for him to bear. Hot, angry tears brimmed, the scowl reached deep within. He couldn't look at her, see the damage he'd done. Roughly he drew back on his pants and through on the coat. Without a second glance he left, slamming the door behind him.

It took all Katara had to breath again. Tears streamed down her face in hot waves. Who was that man? "Come back to me, sweet prince," she prayed.

The following morning after dressing herself and little Itsuki placed neatly in the sling across her back, they exited the room to have some breakfast downstairs. Her eyes fell on the ragged figure slumped against the wall. She had no words for that man- no, that beast!

"Katara," he rasped, reaching out for her hand as he knelt before her. He looked horrible and smelled even worse. Oh, how far the royal had fallen!

"No, Zuko. You don't get to just…" She inhaled the last of the words, standing straighter than she'd even stood before. There was no need to speak of the travesties of last night. "I swore that would never happen again. And from you!" the word spat out, "I loved you. With every ounce of my being. I came to your country with you, I gave you a child, I sacrificed for you too, you know. Yet here I am still with you and this is how you repay me! Treat me like a whore."

Zuko exhaled, "Please. Katara. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just so… damn angry. All the fucking time. Please. I can't lose you too. My son, our son. What of him? He should not be without a father."

"Hmph, he's just a bastard. Why should you care?" Katara taunted. "Royals have them all the time, don't you know?"

She'd gone too far. And she knew it. The pained look he gave mirrored her own. No further words were spoken. This was not how it was supposed to have gone. "My apologies," biting her bottom lip in that submissive way that under ordinary circumstances would have drove him wild. "That wasn't what I meant."

"No, I know exactly what you meant." His tone was dead. He was dead. "I'm not my father, Katara. I'm not even me. You should go. I've asked too much of you already and there is sure to be more coming. At least if you and Itsuki are safe away from me I know that everything will be okay. I know you've got people here that can help you. I'll only hurt you. "

With that he gathered his coat, grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the table and truly walked away without even a goodbye.

Katara died inside. "Not like this!"

Oh, sweet baby cheezit, that went way darker than I intended. However, I imagine Zuko done saw some shit while at war and has some serious PTSD going on, thus why he's a bit OOC.

Any who, thanks for reading. Comments always appreciated. Happy reading everyone!