A/N: This is based of of a lovely pic Beanaroony drew during a livestream recently. You can find her, and her work, on tumblr and dA with the same username. Definitely worth a looksee.
Disclaimer: Don't own it.
Sparked
So maybe this wasn't the wisest decision he'd ever made, but Zuko figured there really wasn't any other choice he could have made anyway. After all, they were practically out of food at the temple. Someone had to go down the mountain to buy supplies, and he wasn't sure where everyone else had disappeared.
Besides, he left a note. Not that anyone would worry. Not for him anyway.
Everything went fine until he left the village.
First, it started raining. His clothes were drenched in seconds. Zuko hoped the knapsack full of food wouldn't get ruined by the moisture.
Second, four beefy men seemed to be waiting just outside the forest. Zuko was pretty sure they were waiting for him, and it confirmed his gut's feeling that it was a shitty decision to leave his swords at the temple.
Third, a gust of wind chose this moment to blow his hood off. Zuko cursed, and the four men sneered in unison.
"Hey, you with the scar!" One of them called.
Zuko stopped and leveled a glare at him. "What?"
"I know your kind. You're not welcome here."
"Well, luckily for you, I'm on my way out of town," Zuko gestured towards the men, as if sweeping them aside. "So if you'll get out of my way…"
They didn't seem to appreciate that. "Watch your tongue, punk."
Zuko tried to listen to his inner mantra of don't firebend. Don't firebend. Don't firebend. Don't fucking firebend. Really, he did. But he'd never liked being called names, and this thug was on his second. Plus, he was still pretty bad at being good. He definitely didn't feel guilty about the spark zipping from his fist.
The thugs really didn't appreciate that.
They jumped him. Zuko was waiting for it.
In fact, he thought he was doing pretty well for fighting without any of his weapons or bending until one of them landed a brass-knuckled punch to his kidney. All the air burst out of him, and he landed on his stomach in the dirt. Distantly he noticed a head of cabbage rolling across the road behind the thugs' kicking feet. Zuko rolled onto his side to kick his way back up to standing, but a sharp pain in the middle of his back stopped him mid-kick.
Zuko cursed loudly. He was sure they'd broken one of his ribs. The men kept up their flurry of fists and feet, and Zuko knew he could stop this real fast if he would just bend his way out. But that hardly seemed fair. Or honorable. And although he has difficulty with being good, Zuko thought he had a handle on honor by now.
Another foot found purchase on the same kidney, and this time Zuko could feel the rib above it give. He gritted his teeth. To hell with it. Four-on-one was hardly fair or honorable, so why should he worry about bending against non-benders? These were bullies anyway, just like those soldiers in that Earth Kingdom village. They didn't deserve the fair or honorable response.
He blasted out an arc of fire from his foot and slammed his elbow into someone's stomach just as a third man was dragged away by a water whip. Zuko almost sighed in relief, but the final thug was aiming for his nose. Zuko was having none of that, so he swept the man's feet out from under him.
Zuko looked over his shoulder to see which waterbender just helped him. He was surprised to see it was a woman in a voluminous brown robe and a straw hat with a thick veil. He couldn't decide if he was disappointed no one from the Avatar's group came after him.
"Thanks," he called over to her. She turned her head sharply. Zuko was pretty sure she was glaring under all that fabric. That dispelled his theories about stray waterbenders living in the Western Air Isles. The strange woman was definitely Katara, and he'd bet she was pissed. And someone read his note.
Well, at least her guy was unconscious. He turned to take care of the other three, but Katara stormed past him, robes and veil billowing ominously. The thugs seemed to recognize her. They cowered.
"Get out of my sight," she commanded, voice low.
The men tripped over themselves to obey. They grabbed their buddy and booked it. Zuko heard one of them mutter something about a painted lady and the wrath of the spirits. Weird. He heaved a sigh, but stopped when pain shot through his back again. He groaned instead.
Katara whipped her head back to glare at him again.
"What were you even thinking?" She started towards him, poking a finger at him. "Do you have any idea of what you've done? There's a reason all of us were gone, Zuko."
Zuko grimaced.
"We had the food situation in hand. This isn't our first time to hide from the Fire Nation." She was close enough that her finger jabbed him in the chest. "Spirits, you're so stupid. You have to think these things through!"
"Well, if someone had told me what was going on—"
"If you had asked before you vanished—"
"—then I wouldn't have wasted my money—"
"—you'd know that we were out gathering food in the woods—"
"—and I wouldn't have a broken rib because some dumbasses thought—"
"—but oh no! You're Prince Zuko! You don't have to lower yourself to ask anyone anything—"
"—it'd be a good idea to pick a fight with me! And what the hell are you even wearing?"
"—you just say, 'hey, I'll hide a note in the temple,' and wander on your royal way!"
Both glared fiercely at the other. Zuko tried to ignore the fire radiating from his rib, but it really hurt to breathe. He winced. Katara's glare softened minutely as she rolled her eyes at him.
"What'd you hurt?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Zuko rubbed his side. "I think I broke a rib."
"Well, let me salvage your groceries so we can get somewhere I can heal that." Katara huffed and took her hat off. Apparently she had paint on herself to disguise her features even more; it smeared down her face in the rain. Zuko bent over to help, but Katara slapped his hand away. "No. You just stand there. You've already ruined enough things today."
Zuko pulled his hand back and frowned. Fine. If she wanted to be that way, he'd let her. He knew there would be no reasoning with her right now, not that she usually let him.
Katara hummed as she looked at what she had in her hat. It was less than half of what Zuko originally bought. "Looks like curry tonight. Come on, let's find a creek."
He tried to carry the hat. Katara glared at him again. He tried to comment about the weather. Katara ignored him. He tried to compliment her cooking. Katara told him to shut up, talking was probably aggravating his injury.
Five minutes later, the rain let up and they stopped at a creek. Katara set her hat down and turned to Zuko, hands on her hips.
"Where're you hurt?"
"Back rib, above my left kidney."
"Take your shirt off and lay down on your stomach."
Zuko blinked. "What?"
Katara stomped up to him and whipped his belt off. Zuko stumbled backwards. She used the momentum to push him to the ground. Somehow she wound up on top of him, a hand pressed firmly above his heart and straddling his legs.
Zuko felt hazy and sharp all at once. Her hand was surprisingly warm. And he didn't mind it there, even if she was glaring daggers at him. His heart stuttered. He wondered if she could feel it skip a beat.
Katara summoned some water from the creek, and it covered her other hand in a glowing glove. She leaned against him and reached her arm between his shirt and his back, laying her hand over the sore spot.
"Don't think this means anything," she whispered in his bad ear. "I'm not healing you because you deserve it." He could feel gooseflesh crawling up his neck. The pain was going away, but Zuko still couldn't seem to breathe correctly. "Don't think I'm being nice to you because I like you." Zuko couldn't agree more; she definitely didn't like him. He really didn't think she was being nice at all. Tease would be a better word. "Because I don't. Like you. At all."
She dragged the words across his ear lobe. He shivered. She sat back, fingers skating across his skin.
"There now," she smiled, satisfied with her work. Her face paint had smeared itself into oblivion on the left side. "All better. Don't do anything stupid, and it'll stay that way."
She flattened her bare foot on the ground and started to stand. Zuko didn't think. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down, pressing his lips to hers. She stiffened, shoved her hands against his shoulders. Then she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching at his hair.
Everything was going better than expected.
First, she hadn't killed him yet. Zuko felt quite relieved that he hadn't been frozen to a tree or punched in the face.
Second, she was so much warmer than he expected. Zuko wondered if that's because she grew up in all that ice.
Third, she pushed him down to the ground again. Zuko didn't mind that. Not at all. Or the way she'd snagged his lower lip with her teeth. Or the feel of her skin as he wrapped a hand around her waist.
Finally, he had to breathe. He pulled his head back to rest on the ground. He was pleased to note she followed him before her eyes opened. She looked as mussed as he felt. Quickly the glaze left her eyes. She pulled back before he could say anything.
"I said," she pulled his hand from her waist like an unwanted insect. "Don't do anything stupid."
Zuko snorted. "Yeah, well, I've always been bad at following orders."
Katara exhaled, annoyed. She stood up, and this time Zuko let her, a satisfied smile hovering around the corners of his mouth. Katara grabbed her hat and dropped it in his lap.
"Wipe that smirk off your face. We need to get back. Everyone will be wanting dinner soon." Zuko stood up and followed her along the creek bank, back toward the temple. She didn't look back to see if he followed.
So maybe going to the village hadn't been the wisest decision he'd ever made, but he figured there really could have been worse consequences than a broken rib and a huffy Katara.
Well, until Aang asked why he was wearing lipstick.
A/N: To be frank, it was the best livestream ever. Super glad I didn't do my usual lurk. Thanks for the inspiration, Beanie! And thanks for reading.