-Chapter 19- The Fire in Your Eyes

"And after that, things would never be the same. For the both of us."

Katara almost did not believe what she was seeing as her opponent stepped onto the field. It had to be Zuko under the mask of the Blue Spirit now, since Lu Ten would still need to be resting his arm from the injury he had gotten at the war front. The waterbender glanced up to the royal balcony and saw it was full. Expecting only Lu Ten, she was surprised to see Prince Iroh and Ozai along with Ursa and Azula. If the Firelord was there as well, he was out of sight. Why would they all be here today? It's not because this is my last match, right? There must be another reason. Whatever it was, Katara put the thoughts on hold when the Blue Spirit charged, swords drawn.

She reached for the water in the trough, first spiraling it towards her, then using the momentum to fire it at her opponent. It missed, but whether it was because Zuko could read her moves or she had not aimed one hundred percent accurately was unstated.

She was trying to win, but it was hard to put the effort into the match when she knew who was under the mask.

...

While Lu Ten's remark was unexpected, it only took a minute for Zuko to regain his composure. He would simply need a better alibi for not attending the games today with the rest of the family if his father asked. Though he did not know why the Firelord had decided to head to the Arena this week, he would still figure out a descent excuse for not accompanying them all like he should have. He doubted his father would figure out it was him who letting Katara win her freedom. The fact that this was her tenth match did not change that he still needed to act like he wanted to win. He promised Lu Ten the Blue Spirit would go out in a match to be remembered for years, even if he did lose. He charged at her, swords drawn, ready to fight the best pretend match he could.

...

He had to be bluffing. She had no idea why he would tell her to keep winning and then ruin all her hard work with a single match with him as he opponent. Unless she had misread his words, but she highly doubted that.

The note she had gotten from him reminded her not to give up, to keep fighting until she won her last match and was free. It was not until he had promised she would get her freedom, though not outright, at the end of the note that she wondered what he was up to. The waterbender kept her thoughts to herself about how she thought the prince was somehow contributing to her winning streak. It was information that she was not willing to make public in the cells, no matter how much she trusted the men around her.

When the others asked about the letter with its unbroken seal of red wax delivered by a guard one morning, she told them who it was from without hesitation. She spoke of how the prince knew of her father's death and willed her not to lose hope. Her depression had since faded, though the hole in her heart still ached. Little did Zuko know that he had been the one to snap her out of it the Arena during her eighth match. His small burst of fire rocked her focus free from her thoughts of following after her father to see everyone she loved once more.

Those flames grounded her, more than the cool water in her hands could ever have done. They reminded her of everything she had gained in the capital, not what she had lost. Being the symbol of the nation that enslaved her and her people made no difference. She associated the red flames with the youngest Prince, not his nation.

That same prince swung his two swords at her knees; Katara jumped backwards, the metal sword kissing the soles of her shoes but not doing harm. She would not let him get close enough to get another near-hit in. A deep breath refocused her thoughts and she directed a water whip in his direction. It hit his shoulder but did little to stop his next attack. One sword followed the other in a swooping arc; both bit the dirt where she had been standing moments before.

Without time to recover, the Blue Spirit attacked her again. Her ice shield was sliced clean through, but she melted it into a small wave, remolding the split water and pushed Zuko backward. Above, she heard the roar of the crowd. The Blue Spirit was a fan favorite, and after her time in the arena, Katara knew why. Even as she fought him now, it was amazing a firebender would take the time to master a sword as the two princes had done. Zuko moved with such grace, the dual swords an extension of his arms. While today he put slightly too much effort into his slices, she had watched him enough to know that he knew how to use the weapons to their full advantage. They were not just sharp sticks, which was how others used the swords they swung around.

Which made her wonder why he was putting so much effort into his thrusts and swings. It almost looked comical if it was not for the fact that one close call would result in her losing not only the match, but maybe a body part or two. She considered that maybe he was acting for the crowd, trying to show them he was attempting to beat her, without actually beating her. He pressed her hard, not giving her the same openings he had shown when they sparred at the palace. When Katara found the blade passing short of her face, she wondered if maybe Zuko was not going to let her win. He was trying awfully hard to get inside her guard.

The thought was shoved to a dark corner of her mind, but her blood still boiled. The Blue Spirit backed off, still circling her, but the giving her enough space to make the next move. Not willing to take any chances, Katara needed a way to end the match.

Without his firebending, her opponent could only use close range attacks within the swing of his swords. It gave her an advantage; he had to get close to hit her, and her accuracy improved the closer he came. All she needed to do was disable him to win, she was sure that would be enough. Before she could get her head around a more specific plan of action, Zuko stepped forward and darted outside her field of vision. Panic coupled with reflex swung her body around, arms following behind, palms open to the stream of water at her command. She attacked based on where he should be and hit her mark, maybe too well. The water had not been a straight shot, instead angled upward to hit the Blue Spirit in the jaw.

Katara watched in horror as the blue demon mask was blasted off Zuko's face. It fell to the ground several feet behind him. She met the prince's eyes, her fear mirrored in them. The crowd had gone silent in the stands, but neither of them looked away from the other. As far as Katara could remember, no fighter had been unmasked during a fight before. She was not sure if there was a protocol they should follow since it was obvious who he was now, so Katara did not move from her last stance, arms outstretched and hung in the air between them. It was as if moving would break the spell of silence that had fallen over the world.

...

His life flashed before his eyes as the suffocating closeness of the porcelain mask was pulled from his face. The prince forced himself not to duck his face and try to keep his identity a secret. If he had been anyone else, it might have been possible, but his scar, even from up in the stands, was plainly visible. His heart threatened to pound right out of his chest. When he thought of his father's reaction up in the balcony, the first thing he could think of was Katara. She was the reason he stepped onto the dirt in the Arena field in the first place. Though, visions of what would come to pass after he lost to an Arena fighter and let her go free no less, took over. He had to decide how to proceed, now, before someone could call the match and no one would win.

...

The peace was shattered with fire.

"Ahhh!" came Zuko's roar as he sent a blast of flames her way. Katara dove out of the way, rolling to her feet seconds later. She countered with her water, streaming it across the Arena. Her advantage was lost. The Arena filled with steam as they exchanged blows.

She felt the stirrings of fear for her own life; it had been several weeks since she had been worried like this during a match. But for as nervous as she was, she knew the prince was fearful as well. She saw it in his gold eyes. It did not take a genius to figure out why. Katara knew the royal family was present and watching. In fact, practically the whole capital was watching, judging on how crowded the stands were. There was no way he could lose this match now that it was him fighting it.

That abstract concept of honor made sense to her now, almost; if he let her win, he would lose not only the match, but his honor as well. Even though she understood, she could not let him win. Her own dreams of freedom rode on his fight. Whether she fought the Blue Spirit or the prince of the Fire Nation, the result would be the same. They both stood to lose much if they lost, and Katara knew Zuko knew that. The winner would be the one who wanted it more.

Katara rained icicles down on Zuko. Flaming swords made quick work of them, but he was not out of the danger. Water turned to ice at his feet; the steam crystallized into snowflakes. The prince spun on his heel, noting the patches of ice before the sparse snow covered them. His breath steamed in the frosty air, a definite change from the warmth he was used to. Pulling the tight hood of his clothing free from his head to run a now ungloved hand through his hair, the prince looked to Katara.

Katara took several steadying breaths. Already her work was melting in the Fire Nation sun. She needed to use it while lasted. It had taken so much focus to freeze everything over as she had done. After another breath misted in the air, she used more water in half-a-dozen separate streams to attack. Zuko managed to avoid them and get between the water and her. His move surprised her. He did not need to get close to attack anymore.

A ball of flames grew in his hands, blasted at her from only a short distance. She blocked with the snow from the ground at her feet; steam hissed to life around them. Blinded for only a moment, the view of the stands vanished. Katara heard the shouts above her and almost missed avoiding the latest attack.

She fell into a low crouch to avoid it and only then noticed Zuko's silhouette behind the blast, leaping towards her. In a split second decision, she dove forward, under his feet, condensing the thinning steam back to water as she twisted around to face him. His surprise had been obvious in the second their eyes met before she passed under him. She saw the surprise, but underneath it was fear. Whether it was his fear of hurting her or his fear of losing the match, she knew not. In her eyes though, contrasting with the deep blue that gave her away as a waterbender, Zuko saw flames. The fire that burned in her eyes, against her very nature, made him falter.

In his hesitation, Katara's attack overcame him. The blast of water formed from the meeting of their elements slammed him off his feet and to the ground. The crowd gasped, they could once again see what happened the second Katara called to the steam to her and cleared the air.

She stood over Zuko as he turned over to lay on his back, propped up on one elbow. A cloud of icicles hung suspended in the air around the two of them. Katara watched the prince examine the situation; the icicles, her standing over him, her determined expression. She stood there waiting, but no one called the match even though it was obvious she was victorious. If it had been any of her other matches, they would have called it. Did the Arena Master want her to kill him? The prince and the waterbender shared a look. She understood without words what she needed to do. Throwing her hands forward, the ice spears dove for the fallen firebender.

"Stop!" the announcer called. It was too late; all the ice hit its' intended targets. Luckily, even though he flinched, Zuko had not been the bulls eye. He breathed a sigh of relief that would have been insulting to Katara if she had not been nervous herself.

"The winner of the match is the waterbender!" the announcer called. Over the cheers of the delighted fans she had gained, she could hear the shouts of disappointment aimed at the prince. The announcer called something else about it being her tenth win but Katara heard none of it. She offered her fallen prince a hand and helped him to his feet. He wore a smile, but his eyes were shadowed.

"Congratulations," he turned to her, his voice hollow.

"Zuko, I-" she started to say. It would have been a rushed apology for taking something that was hers anyway. It was probably a good thing she was interrupted.

"Zuko!" called a voice from across the Arena. The two looked away from each other just in time to see Lu Ten hurrying to them.

"Zuko," he repeated, glancing behind his back at the royal balcony. Katara saw the princess leaning on the railing; a bright grin resided on the girl's face. Alongside her, standing a few feet back was Zuko's mother and Prince Iroh. She could have sworn she saw movement in the back of the balcony, but it was probably just a trick of the light. The chances of the Firelord himself being present was slim.

"Zuko, it's your father, he's-"

"I don't want to hear it Lu Ten," Zuko interrupted. Katara took a step back. As happy as she was that she was free, the fear in Lu Ten's voice was unnerving.

A group of guards approached them, escorting a man with a rolled parchment. Upon close inspection, Katara noticed one of the guards held her palace clothing that she had brought up from her cell to leave in the waiting area. She had done it much to the guard's chagrin who brought her up, saying she should not get her hopes up about winning. How she had proven him wrong. The clothing still appeared to be folded how she had left it, which meant Zuko's letter was safe inside; she had had no way to destroy it in her cell to keep others from reading it, so hiding it in her clothing was her plan of action. Lu Ten grabbed at Zuko's arm.

"Let's go," he said, then directed his next statement at Katara without looking at her. "We'll be just outside." They walked off, leaving the arena. Katara understood the need to distance themselves until she actually claimed her prize, so then no one could think that the two princes had planned on getting her out in the first place. Though, she still was not quite sure how they accomplished it completely. In the stands, the chaos had grown. It appeared that the entire stadium was in an uproar. The approaching men were nervous as well.

"Congratulations," the man announced without meaning it. "What is the name I can put-?"

"Katara," she replied, cutting him off. She spelled her name as he wrote it on the white scroll, then signed it.

"By the order of the Arena Master, you Katara, are now a free citizen of the Fire Nation, and are afforded with all the luxuriates that come with the title, except for travel." Katara nodded and accepted her clothing from the guard and the scroll from the Arena Master. The procession turned and left her alone in the Arena as quickly as possible. She wanted to smile and examine the proof of her freedom that she held in her hands, but the cost of her win weighed on her. The waterbender jogged to the entrance that the two princes had excited through, and walked into a shouting match.

"-a disgrace!" Ozai shouted. Lu Ten hovered anxiously at the outskirts of their verbal spar. He looked to be caught in a decision of whether to get someone to intervene or to stall them himself. He looked up when he saw Katara enter, so did Ozai and Zuko.

"He should have let her finish you off instead of calling the match," Ozai roared, pointing towards Katara. "Then maybe your defeat would have been palatable."

"Uncle Ozai!" Lu Ten shouted in shocked horror. Even Katara did not know how to take his statement. Had she misjudged how a loss would affect Zuko's life? Zuko seethed, but only bit his lip and took the insult. He clenched his fists, curls of smoke rose from them. Before anyone could say anything more, Ursa and Iroh appeared in a swirl of robes and sleeves. Katara noticed the princess was nowhere to be seen.

"That's enough Ozai," Iroh commanded. "Your son-"

"He is not my son!" Ozai exclaimed in anger.

"Ozai!" Ursa gasped, her glaze falling to Zuko. Even the boy let his scornful mask slip to reveal a look of shock. Did his father just disown him? Just like that? The thought was unimaginable to Katara.

"No," Ozai declared. "No son of mine will bring such disgrace to this family." He moved forward and grabbed his son by the collar. Zuko flinched and ground his teeth as the smell of burnt clothing filled the tight room. "You will pay for the true extent of what you've done."

"Stop it, Ozai," Ursa ordered, moving to pull her husband from her eldest. The second prince dropped Zuko and turned on his heel, shoving Ursa aside. Katara gave the women credit for her bravery in facing the brash man. Just the idea of standing against Prince Ozai made her want to run in the other direction.

"Your punishment for ruining my chances will be severe," he promised before leaving the room. There was silence. Outside, the sound of the crowd buzzing to leave the Arena grew. The noise penetrated their quiet. Ursa put a hand on Zuko's shoulder and tried not to look hurt when he brushed it off. He walked passed everyone without a word.

Katara did not stay to see his family's reactions. Iroh saw her flee back into the Arena before he followed after his nephew with Lu Ten and Ursa.

For the first time in her life, Katara did not know what to do next. She was free, but that alone had been her goal. Now that she achieved it, she had no direction. Her feet took her to the only place she knew to go.

Walking through the door, she felt like she had never left, but she knew better. It had been almost half a year since she last lived here.

"Katara!" Shiyu called once he spotted her. She smiled at him in response, but it was short lived. Looking around the room, she spotted Shiyu's apprentice washing medical instruments and bowls from the day's events. The medic noticed her silence and guessed at the cause.

"I saw the match," he explained. Shiyu was not a man of physical affection, but he put a hand on Katara's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"I shouldn't have won," she said, hanging her head. "I've ruined anything that-"

"Katara," Shiyu stopped her. "From the moment the two of you stepped into the arena as opponents, something like this was bound to happen. It could have been anything. It just so happened the cards fell in your favor."

"But," Katara tried to say.

"Would you trade your freedom for his honor?" Shiyu asked. Katara gripped the scroll that decreed she was a citizen tighter.

"I don't feel very free," she admitted. Shiyu sighed and walked over to finish folding the unused pile of bandages that had fallen over during the day. Her statement hung in the air, filling the silence. She stood awkwardly, watching the work the two of them did to finish cleaning after their busy day.

"Where do I go now, Shiyu?" Katara finally asked. "Where did the others go?"

"I'm not sure," Shiyu sighed. "It's very rare for someone to win their freedom in the Arena. Everyone knows that. The ones that do win usually aren't heard from again."

"I heard that some try to escape the city and go back to their nations," Karo offered.

"But I can't leave the capital," Katara countered. It was a stupid rule, but she had not planned on breaking any laws on her first day being free. Then again, no one else had defeated a prince to get where she was either. Thoughts swirled around her mind like the snow flurries she had created this afternoon. She was worried for Zuko. Why did he want to be my last opponent? There must have been other ways to get her to win besides challenging her himself. Even under the mask of the Blue Spirit, he would have had to lose. Katara knew how good the Blue Spirit was, how much the crowd loved him. He would be throwing away both his and Lu Ten's alter ego just to get her free. In the end, it turned out he lost much more. It made Katara question how much the prince had been willing to sacrifice for her in the first place and if he regretted his decision now. The pit in her stomach was unbearable as she wondered.

"Katara, sit down," Shiyu coaxed, guiding her to the cushions around the table behind her. Katara obeyed and sat, remembering how she had drank tea here growing up. After she was settled, the girl looked up at Shiyu and gave him a sad look without meaning too.

"I don't know what to do, Shiyu," she sighed. She folded her hands in her lap and twisted her fingers. The grey tunic, worn and ripped, gave the illusion she had faded to almost that of a ghost. Shiyu shook his head and looked around the room. His apprentice had left the kitchen, gone off to relax after the tiresome day mending the injured.

"You can stay here Katara," Shiyu offered. He lowered his voice, glancing to the back room where Katara had stayed. "Karo's not experienced enough to take over, but I'm ready to retire. You can take my place here." The shock took a second to sink in; she jerked her head up and looked to Shiyu.

"But," she tried to say.

"Karo's a good man, but he doesn't have your drive to learn and to heal," Shiyu admitted. "I'm sure eventually he'll be a good medic, but it will take a while. I'm not getting any younger." The girl was silent. She would have jumped at the chance to live here and help out almost a year ago, now she found herself having to choose. It was difficult, more then she had expected, and Shiyu saw her concentration.

"You don't have to decide now Katara," he explained. "Stay here a few days, get back on your feet. You can tell me when you're ready. Until then, make yourself at home." Katara nodded, though she smiled now. Through the dark clouds that hovered over her, a ray of sunlight finally pushed through. It was not what she expected in the least, but it was still a wonderful option. If only she wanted it as much as before.

"Thank you, Shiyu," Katara grinned. The medic smiled back before heading up the stairs to his room. Katara sat in silence before she moved to make herself some tea and grab an apple.

At last, she opened the scroll to examine what was inside. It was a short decree, but the thing that held her attention most was the smaller, almost card-like piece that fell onto the table. She held it up and saw this was what the Arena Master had signed with her name on it. It reminded her of Shiyu's passport, which she had seen once on his desk on her way to the balcony. She would need a place to put it to keep it safe, along with the scroll it came in and her message from Zuko.

Katara paused. She wondered what his father would do to him. Prince Ozai was a man to be feared, she knew that, but even the worry that Zuko had shown was something to take note of. She hugged her knees to her chest; she had not expected things to go back to the way they were between them completely, but she had wished... for what exactly? Did she think the prince would sweep her off her feet and take her back to the palace where they would spend the rest of their lives together, only she would be a free woman and not his servant? The thought was childish and even she knew it. Maybe she just wanted to be able to see him, but to still have her own life. Or...

Katara realized that she had never thought this far ahead. Her only thoughts had been of getting out of the Arena prison. She assumed that Zuko would come back for her once she was free and take charge, but all bets were off the table now. It was not either of their faults alone that things had been messed up so badly; they were both to blame at how the events following the start of the match escalated. Hers for de-masking him and him for not telling her what he planned.

The waterbender took a steadying breath and stood. Suddenly curious if Shiyu had kept her old clothing, she made her way towards the room where she had lived. She remembered to knock since Karo was likely within.

"Sorry to interrupt," she stated, pushing the door open. The young man looked up from a book. Katara recognized it as one of the medical journals from the shelves. "Did you happen to find or move any clothing that was in here when you moved in?"

"Shiyu packed it up in that box on the top shelf," Karo explained, turning to face her. "He seemed pretty flustered about it all. I just assumed he had a daughter at first. I didn't bother asking about it. Here, I can reach it for you." Karo stood and grabbed the box from the shelf without needing the stool that Katara had grabbed.

"Thanks," she said once the box was safely in her hands. It was small and light, though it should not surprise her, since she had had hardly any clothing to begin with. There was probably only six or seven outfits in total that she recalled having here, not including her special Agni Kai robes and the nightgown she had worn on her trip to the palace. She vanished back into the main room then caught an unpleasant whiff of herself against the sterile medical environment. She darted into the bathroom. The thought of a real bath was too tempting to pass up.

...

By the time the sun had long since set and she was ready for bed, Katara had all but settled back into the home she had practically grown up in. Sure, she no longer had a bed, but the nest of blankets and pillows that Shiyu provided was just as comfy. As she tried to settle in, one thought filled her mind. The mask. She sat up straight and looked around. The candle on the table was still burning, filling the room with sparse dancing light. No one else seemed to be up, and by all accounts, neither should she. Katara left her bed, dressed in one of her old sets of clothing that was just slightly too large for her now, and headed out into the Arena.

Overhead, the cloudless sky allowed the moon to fill the space with pale light. She was barefoot, her old palace shoes had been torn to shreds throughout her fighting career, so the sand quickly dirtied her freshly washed toes. Even with only moonlight, it didn't take long for her to find what she came searching for.

The mask had fallen face down, so no one noticed it laying forgotten in the heat of the moment. The guards would not walk the field until the next morning before they let out the prisoners for practice, thus no one had picked up the mask. Shaking fingers plucked the blue demon mask from the ground and turned it over. She touched the cool porcelain surface she knew so well. It was burned into her mind from childhood. The Blue Spirit had been her savior. Now, the man behind the mask would never return to the Arena.

Footsteps broke her concentration. She looked up, her heart fluttering at the sight. She had been wrong.

Katara had no idea what to say. Her heart leaped at the thought that he had come to tell her everything she had feared was just that: fears. The blue spirit mask glinted in her hands, bringing her back to reality. Katara took a fortifying breath.

"I'm sorry about what happened today," she said, bowing her head slightly. She watched the sand curl under her bare toes as she scrunched them. Boots appeared at the edge of her downward vision, hands touched the mask she held. She looked up, blue eyes meeting golden ones.

"You did what you had to," was his response.

"But," Katara tried to say. "Your father-"

"It doesn't matter," Zuko lied. Katara wondered if he was trying to make himself believe the words as he said them. "Everyone knows I'm not his favorite child, what's one more screw-up going to change?"

"He seemed furious, Zuko," Katara sighed. It was amazing how easily they fell back into their way of conversing through gentle arguments of concern. "I just-" He moved closer, hands sliding across the mask to cover hers. He tugged on them gently, guiding her to the covered waiting area where the prisoners waited for their matches. it was safe from view if anyone was doing their rounds and the door to the cells was locked, so it was never guarded. Once they were out fo the sand and dirt of the fighting area, he turned to face her.

"I didn't sneak out of the palace to talk about my father, Katara," the prince whispered.

"Sneak out?" Katara questioned. Zuko didn't answer her inquiry with words. Instead, he moved in and kissed her. Katara felt his hands fall to her hips, pulling her closer. The warm feeling of joy filled her slowly. Wriggling her arms free from where they had been caught in-between their bodies, she threw them around Zuko's neck, the mask still clutched in her left hand. Above, the moon kept guard over their secret meeting.

As pleasant as it was being reunited on peaceful, non combative terms, Katara could not help feeling something was off. Zuko's focus was not where she expected it. He lingered on each touch, each taste. She expected a man dying of thirst who had found water, not one who was never expecting another drink. She pulled away, almost giving in when his expression gave away his sadness.

"Zuko, what's wrong?" she asked. "What aren't you telling me?" The prince looked away, turning so she only saw the scarred side of his face. He did not answer immediately, but Katara could wait. They tested each others patience until Zuko gathered the courage to speak.

"I'm headed out on the first ship tomorrow," he finally said. Only after she heard the words did he turn to gauge her expression. She only blinked in confusion.

"What? Why!?" she finally asked. Zuko sighed and pulled out of Katara's embrace. She felt small standing alone in the dark Arena.

"My father's sending me off to find the Avatar," Zuko explained. "He said it's the only way to regain the honor I lost when you beat me in our match."

"That doesn't make any sense." Katara shook her head. "I'll ask for a rematch, you and me. You can win and everyone will be happy."

"Katara, no," Zuko stated. "It's not that easy. And besides, you deserve to be free. A rematch might make the Arena Master take back your citizenship. I hadn't planned to be your tenth match, and when I was, I was worried my father would put the pieces together and accuse me of losing to you on purpose to win your freedom anyway. Lucky, he was too busy being furious to even think I'd thrown the match. The moment the mask came off, I though he'd stop the fight and accuse me of trying to get you free. But he didn't and I'm not sure why."

Katara was silent on the matter. While she did not think the Arena Master could take away her freedom, she definitely was not going to risk it if it worried Zuko so much. Though the last statement weighed heavily on her. Prince Ozai knew what the relationship between his son and her had been on the outside. Katara was sure the princess had further elaborated once she was taken away; those two had a sickeningly identical mindset which was conducive to sharing a siblings' secrets. It would have made sense for Ozai to see through the plot; the fact that he did not call the bluff play was another thing entirely. It made her wonder if he thought she would actually kill his son. Katara shuddered.

"It's already been decided, " Zuko continued. "This is the punishment he'd decided on and I'm going to meet it. I'll find the Avatar and be back before you know it." Zuko looked so determined that Katara wanted to believe every word he said. She had no idea that the Avatar was a real thing anymore. The last one had not been seen in over 100 years. No one could live that long, and no word of a new Avatar being born had surfaced. Her mother used to tell her stories about the feats of old Avatars before the newest one, an airbender, had all but vanished. It sounded like a fool's errand, this journey to find him when he was practically a myth.

Katara closed the gap Zuko had created and took his hands. They were warm.

"I'll be here," she promised. "Shiyu said he'd leave me the office if I wanted. I would take his place as the arena medic. I haven't accepted yet, since I wasn't sure what you-" she caught herself rambling and stopped before she said too much.

Zuko seemed to understand her hesitation.

"When I get back..." he began, but paused. Instead of saying anything, he kissed her again. Katara did not expect him to reveal any feelings; she had not said what she wanted to say out loud, so why should he? But the kiss spoke volumes, even if it was just for tonight, she knew he cared for her. They savored the moment, fire and water, in the most passionate of nighttime dances. For neither was sure when they would have another chance.

...

The next morning, Katara was up before the sun. There was no way she was going to miss being at the dock in time. Zuko told her that his departure was not public knowledge, but he also warned her that there would still be a crowd gathered as the gossip leaked by the guards with loose lips seeped into the city. She grabbed her small signed certificate and slipped it under her waist sash, just in case she needed it, and left Shiyu's home without waking anyone.

Morning light was slow to seep through the streets, but by the time she found her way to the docks, the sky was bright. She spotted a crowd of soldiers preparing a small vessel, a crew ready to depart. The only thing missing was the prince.

The procession was quiet, but Katara still heard them before she saw anything. It was easy enough to spot Zuko. The young prince wore armor which gleamed like it had never seen a day of fighting in its life. She knew the opposite held true for the man protected by it; he bore the scars from a lifetime of battle. From her spot on the edge of the dock, she dared not get too close to the solders or the boat, she spotted Lu Ten and Zuko's mother. The other members of the family were not present, though the only one whose absence confused her was Iroh's. She was sure there was a pressing reason why the elder prince was not here to see his nephew off.

Soon, common citizens joined her where she stood to watch. The guards watched them to make sure they did not get too close. They gossiped amongst themselves about the prince's departure. Katara heard without listening as she watched Ursa gave her son a long hug at the edge of the gangplank.

"They say the Firelord is sending him on a journey," one man whispered.

"I heard he was banished by his father," another countered.

"After his disgrace in the Arena, it's amazing he's still alive," an older women mentioned to her friend.

"And to lose to a waterbender,"

"A young girl at that-"

"- a disgrace!" Katara wished she could cover her ears and un-hear all the things these people, his people, were speaking of.

"She's free now you know," a young man mentioned. "A killer roaming our streets." Katara focused on watching Lu Ten hug his cousin and say something she had no chance of overhearing, but it was hard when the people around her were talking about her without knowing she stood amongst them. Her heart beat faster as she tugged on her sleeves. Her hairstyle and clothing screamed Fire Nation, but once she turned around, the difference between herself and the others would be obvious. The fire Zuko saw in her blue eyes would do little to help her blend in.

"I've never seen her kill anyone in the Arena," a woman stated. "I saw all her matches. The child is good, but she never killed."

"You can't trust water or earthbenders. That was all for show," a man standing beside her explained. The woman harrumphed and Katara's blood ran cold at the other men's laughter following his next statement. "Besides, she'll probably end up like all the others and be back where she belongs in no time." They probably mean I'll try to escape the city and head home, she tried to console herself, like the others Karo mentioned.

"Look, they're shoving off!" shouted a man who stood beside Katara. The ship puffed a few clouds of steam into the air before making a slow departure out towards the open ocean.

Katara looked longingly at the bay, the sparkling water calling her name. It would be so easy to chill the water under her feet and race across the surface to the boat. But she had promised she would be here to welcome Zuko home when he returned, and he would return. This was his country; she saw it in his eyes last night, how deep this temporary exile hit him. If she left now, there would be no coming back. She waved, though she knew the prince could not see the gesture from the boat. It made her feel less lonely when she turned and pushed through the crowd to imagine he had though. She kept her eyes to the ground, escaping the pack of gossiping onlookers without being recognized.

Katara headed home to accept Shiyu's offer without any regrets.

Author's Note:

Wow, about 6 months, 3 1/2 notebooks, over 106,000 words, more then 170 reviews later and this fanfic is finally finished. I'm really glad I got the response that I did for it. It makes me happy that I put off writing this story for almost 3 years (when I first came up with the concept and story direction) until I could do it justice.

Thanks everyone for the amazing support that you gave me through your reviews, I loved reading every one of them. You all are great. Even more so if you stayed with me throughout the whole process for these last few months from my first posted chapter till now. It means a lot. I hope you enjoyed the little journey I took our favorite characters on.

I hope this last chapter was worth the wait. And that my POV switch at the beginning wasn't too hard to understand. It felt off in the first draft without some of Zuko's thoughts mixed in.

The chapter title (and thus story title) is from the song "Breath" by the artist 'Breaking Benjamin'.

If you've read my other Zutara story, I've tried once again not to fill this fanfiction with too many OCs, not naming characters really helps on that front. Even so, Shiyu has a special place in my heart now (I'm thrilled so many of you liked him), as well as the character I'd built Lu Ten to be. I was kinda worried about how both of them would turn out.

There were so many directions I saw this story going after the first half, and if you read carefully and noticed, there are a lot of political and social undertones that are hidden/not so hidden in certain chapters that never went into further detail. No nation can be at war for that long, even a winning nation and not have any resentment by the citizens or governmental failings at some level. I wanted to touch on that, as well as get deeper into the corruption/issues with the succession of the royal family at some point, but the story wanted to go in its own direction.

I won't lie, I also wanted a happier ending for my favorite pairing, but alas, it just was not possible with how everything was. I refused to throw the reality I'd created out the window just for a happy Zutara ending. That's as happy as I could coax it. Trust me, it could have ended much worse...

Again, thanks for your patience with my updating schedule, your time taken in reading each chapter, and your energy spent to leave reviews of every length. You'll are the best. Who knows, maybe I'll find pretty fanart for my story someday.

~Twilit Phoenix