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Borealis: A Zutara Story	By : jaded_priceless Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > AU/AR - Alternate Universe/Alternate Reality Views: 34026 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, Avatar: The Legend of Korra, any historical figures or events, or easily recognizable persons, places or things. I make no profit from this work of fanfiction

Chapter List
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Chapter 105
Katara had traveled enough to know the common stereotypes about her people. She had heard several jokes some offensive, some less so, whose punch lines involved using heat, warmth, or fire as the easiest way to trap or dupe a Water Tribe member. She found herself using it as an excuse to seek comfort when her optimism failed her.
Like a nice familiar fur, Zuko was always there, always warm and next to her. She often lay on top of him, next to him, or sat in his lap as he read to her or gave her massage. The crook of his neck became her favorite pillow. He held her tightly, shedding silent tears of his own, each time she soaked his shirt with tears.
Like the comfort of stroking an Antarctic Sable her hand often found its way in his hair, on his neck, his chest, his forearm, his hip. Her head often rested on his shoulder, his bicep, his chest, or was cradled in the palm of his hand. Her thumbs often caressed his skin as his fingers made gentle circles against her scalp until one or both of them dozed off.

The more time Katara spent pretending Zuko was a walking, talking, hugging, fur the more she came to realize how much she missed conversations that didn’t involve meat, the wrongness of meat, the wonderfulness of dirt, benefits of being dirty, some hare-brained scheme to take advantage of people or wanting to go ride an animal.
She spent hours snug and secure in his lap, her head upon his shoulder, their faces close enough to taste each others’ breath, listening as he whispered his secrets to her. There, in the safety his arms, feeling his heartbeat next to hers, with no witnesses and no one to judge she began to share her own.
Zuko understood what she meant by saying people flocked to their tribe’s only Waterbender but very few of them acknowledged Katara. He too had a title that was often sought after by those who cared nothing for the person. He understood the desire to be normal, to be like everyone else around him. He too knew of the anger and frustration that came with being special and that it was possible to feel all alone in the world while surrounded by people.
She could speak freely to him about the overwhelming urge destroy the ones whose jealousy bordered on hatred. Those were the ones most often there, smiling, waiting, for the moment to expose her as a fraud when all she had ever wanted was to be one of them. She could tell him the well meaning platitudes delivered by those who truly did care sometimes made her want to rip out their tongues and gouge out their eyes because no matter what they saw or believed her feelings had merit. She was not being paranoid or overly sensitive.
Sokka, Toph and Aang were great friends but the desire to give into the anger or the fact it was always there were two of the many things she could never tell them.

It was also getting more difficult for her to tell when he just wanted physical contact versus actual penetration. The number of times he kept his word about just wanting to touch and be touched by her was rapidly increasing. Their conversations generally took place with her sitting his lap or lying next to him. As they talked she would feel his penis growing hard and heavy against her. Some days depending on how he read her mood, Zuko would adjust their positions so their lower halves were no longer touching.
Others he would gently nibble her lips and neck before sucking her breast and guiding her hand beneath his waistband. There were days it frustrated her when he excused himself to go to the bathroom. At times, of her own bidding, the nibbles became insistent. Her tongue would draw his into her mouth, her arms would tighten around his back and her legs would snake around his waist. The terror of penetration never strayed far from her mind but it lessened each time he was content to leave their undergarments bunched and soaked by friction.
Katara lost count of the number of days that started with his lips against hers, his fingers sliding between her legs, inside her panties, as her hand dipped beneath his waistband. It was unnerving the number of nights she’d fallen asleep in his arms without a care in the word after he’d oiled her thighs and spilling his semen against them. She was getting accustomed to the feel of his hands on her waist, her hip, her thigh, her breast; his head on her shoulder, her chest, her arm and her stomach; the feel of his mouth all over her body.
The way his breath always tasted smoky and delicious when he kissed her.

Katara slowly began to realize she had fun when she was around Zuko. It wasn’t because he had such a great sense of humor – he didn’t. After growing up with her Dad, Bato and Sokka she knew there were different categories of bad. Or because he tried to make her laugh – he didn't.
Zuko was in his own special category. Zuko made her laugh because he was serious; way too serious about everything. Sometimes a simple decision about whether to go on the regular deck, the rear deck, the upper deck or have her Waterbend the two of them up to the secret one turned into a lengthy discussion in which he was the sole participant. Watching him made her see why Toph liked to aggravate her for sport.

The day Zuko told her about how Aunt Wu and Iroh had flirted Katara did laugh hard enough fall off the lounger.
She never thought she would see the angry, ponytail-less, Jerkbender twirling his shaggy hair, raising the pitch of voice to a nasally screech, batting his eyelashes and making kissy faces to mimic Aunt Wu, “Care to hear your fortune, handsome?”
He mimed Iroh by pulling his a hair into a pitiful excuse of a topknot that looked more like a toddler’s penguin tail, puffed out his cheeks and stomach to show Iroh’s girth. He sucked it back in, threw his back shoulders back and puffed out chest to mimic Iroh’s efforts to appear more barrel-chested than portly while lowering his voice, “At my age there is really one big surprise left, and I’d just as soon leave it a mystery.”
“It’s not funny! You should have seen them! It was gross!” Zuko shrieked in all seriousness.
Katara stopped laughing long enough to poke his side and tease, “Come on Zuko, don’t be like that. Uncle Iroh and Aunt Wu would make a cute couple. At their age the plumbing still works. Who knows they may even end up making a baby and give it to us to raise while they played the role of doting grandparents?”
“Argghgh my brain! How can you say that?” Zuko said letting go of her to flail wildly and cover his eyes.
Katara didn’t care that it was his flipping and flopping that helped her go ever the edge she was having so much fun watching him do it. Zuko in full on contemplative tizzy was hysterical.
“It would be nice to have a family with you but I don’t even want to think of Uncle Iroh having sex,” Zuko said leaning over to help her up after he regained control of himself.
Katara stopped laughing. She covered her mouth, shocked by the words she had allowed to come out of it and tears began to form at the corner of her eyes.
She cried for days after making the suggestion. A person spoke as they thought; it frightened her to contemplate what it meant if she was able to joke about the two of them adopting and having a family. What had changed between them if she was able to envision being in Fire Nation custody long enough to raise a child to adulthood from infancy? What had changed within herself and how she viewed her situation? What had changed about Zuko that her first thought was not to kill him?
It distressed her that she knew the answer.
Nothing had changed about her situation. She was still a prisoner. She still wanted to kill him and escape so very badly. She still loved her family and planned to rescue them. She still fought every time he put his penis near her vagina. It was still not enough to deter him. She still planned to gut him as soon as they reached the Earth Kingdom.
Nothing had changed about him. Zuko still raped her and said he was doing it her for her benefit and protection. Most of the time he waited until she was sleeping to pin her beneath him then he would spend time kissing, touching, and oiling her with lubricant he got from Bingwen before penetrating her. It didn’t hurt as much, it caused less damage and it wasn’t as painful to heal herself afterwards.
He still held her as she cried afterwards; just as he had done the night he stole her virginity, at the palace, and in the infirmary. He still took food to Aang and her brother just as he had at the palace, on their way to the Ursa, and regularly since they had been back on the ship. He still talked to her as if she was not his captive. He still lied about only wanting to kiss and touch then speared her with his penis; but now he kept his word more often.
No matter what happened Zuko was at her side, blotting her eyes, wiping her nose, and holding her telling her to hold onto her courage. He warmed her broth and held it to her lips when she found it difficult to eat. He was in the restroom holding her hair back when the light meals were too much for her troubled stomach and crying along with her through all of it. He was there with his cryptic comments, encouraging her not to give up, to remain strong if not for her sake then for Sokka and Aang’s, reminding her of all the times he thought he’d had them but still found away to escape.
It was a disturbing comfort to know that even when covered in vomit and snot when she begged for him to just go away Zuko held fast to his vow to never abandon her. It was cruel of him to be there, hugging her, holding her, reminding her of what she was capable of, promising to work hard, make it better and to cherish her no matter what happened in the moments when she most needed a friend.
Zuko had not changed but the way she saw him had. She was starting to think of him as two different people. There was the monstrous Fire Nation prince who raped the Avatar’s Waterbending Master and Zuko, Katara’s friend.
Katara’s pride would not let her admit she was able to make the separation even though every morning, no matter what the evil prince had done the night before; Katara woke up tucked against Zuko’s chest with her head pillowed on his shoulder or his arm.

He was her enemy and she was his prisoner.
No matter how badly she wanted to escape the reality of her situation she could not allow herself to fall victim to her delusions. This was not some fairy tale starring Katara as the hapless peasant and Zuko as the handsome prince. She could not close her eyes and pretend the crown he had given her meant she was a true princess or that his request to be his queen meant she would be a true wife.
She could not allow herself to believe there was an insular place in the world where she and her future had not been ruined.

Mimi Feye: I’m sorry I didn’t mean to delete your reply. I thought I’d added it to the next chapter. Thank you for your feedback. I’m glad I could tempt you away from your project. As far as the Ember Island players,hmmm? I guess that would give Sei a purpose. Length, I have no idea, but it will be long. Thank you. The good luck with everything really came a terrific time.

Arraye: Thank you. I love those parts too. Hakoda’s action are very overt and everyone will know of them. I’m glad you like the Zuko/Katara chapters. Katara has a lot of stuff on her mind she’s working through. Don’t worry, Zuko will get the picture eventually.
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Borealis: A Zutara Story