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Bitter Alliance	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female > Katara/Zuko Views: 31138 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Act II

Chapter Seven

A/N – Warning! There is STRONG sexual content in this chapter. Any mistakes are my own.

--

I walk through the icy tundra of Katara’s dream. At least I think it is Katara’s dream. The freezing rain soaks my cloak and I shiver. Mahari warned me against feeling anything in dreams. They are merely trappings. In the distance, I see smoke rising from a pristine white chimney and begin to make my way toward the dwelling.

Snow crunches beneath my feet and my gut clenches. What do I say to her? How do I convince her that it isn’t just a dream, that I am real, yet not real? How can I be sure that this isn’t just some illusion – a dream that I have created to assuage my guilt and honor?

I ignore the bite of the cold and forge ahead, approaching and touching the icy surface of the igloo. The wind howls around me as if trying to warn me away. This is Katara’s dream. I can feel sorrow on the wind.

Dropping to my knees, I crawl through the tunnel and make my way into the warmth that I know awaits me.

Katara is sitting next to the fire, hugging her knees and rocking as if in pain. Her gaze settles on me and I see a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It is not a welcoming gaze. Her eyes are icy and remote, as if she has purposely removed herself from feeling anything at all.

“I was wondering when you would show up,” she says dully, standing up and grasping a poker to tend the fire. Once done, she points it toward me. “You’re always in my dreams – good and bad. I’ve tried to avoid this. I need to stay strong for the children, but Song used some kind of herb to make me sleep. I’m trapped. Do your worst.”

I feel the strain of maintaining the connection to her dream and concentrate on the details of Katara’s beauty. She looks wary – like she is being stalked. “You have to listen, Katara.” I put my hands up in a conciliatory manner. I welcome the sting of pain as warmth returns to my limbs. I embrace all sensation, desperate to hold Katara and feel her flesh yield to mine. Rounding the fire, I stop as she takes a step back.

“Why should I listen to you?” she hisses. “You have no idea what it’s like. You don’t know what it’s like, being slowly driven insane.”

“Katara?” Her name on my lips is a raspy whisper. I can see the fear in her eyes. I can hardly remember why I’m here as I feel her sorrow and fear wash over me.

She threatens me with the hot poker. She does not trust herself, much less me.

“Surely you know…” I plead, referring to our shared nightmare. “That wasn’t me. The Sages controlled everything. I had no control. I was like a puppet and they the puppet master. You must understand what they are capable of, Katara. They capture dreams, twisting them, torturing… That dream… I don’t know if it was yours or mine. We’ve been connected all this time.”

--

I hear the catch in his voice and drop the hot poker. The hopelessness in his inflection lures me closer. I can feel heat, whether it’s from him or the fire, I do not know. I want to trust him, but I don’t even trust myself at this point. I am drawn to him. “My people believe that dreams foretell the future. I don’t trust myself. How can I trust you?”

He snatches my hand and kisses the center of my palm, his tongue grazing the sensitized skin. “Trust this, Katara. I am flesh and bone,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire.

I want to pull back, but his touch enthralls me. If this is a trap, I enter it willingly. I stand perfectly still, doing nothing to stop him, yet doing nothing to encourage him. The ache that consumes me is an unbearable torment. He kneels before me and touches my necklace, dragging his knuckles across the slope of my neck.

“You’re safe in the desert. Stay there. Ozai can’t reach you there, but he can torment your dreams. You must guard them – remember that I love you. Do not give into the insanity of the nightmares.” He tugs on the sash of my dress, loosening it and quickly disposing of it. “Let me make love to you, Katara. No spies. No threats hanging over our heads…just you and me.”

His words are so tempting. “You promised that you would never leave me. You promised that we would find a way out together,” I remind him sullenly. My bindings dissolve in this imaginary realm and I stand naked before him. Taking advantage of this, Zuko kisses the creamy slope of my right breast, quickly drawing the nipple into his mouth.

I arch my back in welcome, feeling the familiar spark of bitter lust that has always accompanied my feelings for Zuko. I run my fingers through his hair. I widen my stance and welcome his touch upon my skin.

“Lie with me, Katara,” he rasps, relinquishing his hold and trailing kisses of liquid fire along the swell of my breast and ribs. “I want to make love to you as I should have before the world fell apart around us.”

“Zuko.” I fall to my knees and offer him everything that I am – a fractured soul that lives only to protect my children. He takes my breath away with his demanding kiss, no longer seeking permission, but commanding compliance. The ardent pressure builds and I part my lips in welcome. He sweeps his tongue inside as if memorizing each taste and texture. It makes me dizzy. His hands are everywhere, holding me to him and stroking intimate places.

The warm animal fur on the floor touches my back as my lover relinquishes his hold and moves over me. Instead of the seeking probe of needy flesh I expect, I feel his fingers as he explores my feminine core. The glide of his tongue along my inner thigh leaves me trembling. He is there, looking at me. I should feel shame, but I want him to touch me so badly that I cry out. “Please!”

He places a gentle kiss between my intimate folds and I come undone, bucking wildly against his face. He groans in appreciation, greedily taking my essence into his body like a starved man.

I do not open my eyes. I’m afraid that if I do, the dream will be over or worse, turn into a nightmare. Zuko’s attentions bring me to a shattering release. My body pulses around his fingers and he keeps pleasuring me as if it is all he knows how to do.

He shifts his weight and is above me. “Open your eyes,” he whispers, kissing my eyelids. “This is real, Katara. I am flesh and blood.”

He blankets my body with his, resting his hips in the cradle of mine. His lips capture mine, stealing my last breath. His gentleness brings tears to my eyes. The feel of his flesh pressing against my moist core encourages me to open my thighs wider. Golden eyes stare into mine as Zuko gently pushes his flesh into my tightness. He is not only taking my body, He is claiming my soul.

Tears well in my eyes and spill unchecked down my cheeks.

He kisses them away. “Don’t cry,” he begs, shivering.

--

This is a dream I would gladly lose myself in.

Say the words, Katara,” I husk. “Tell me that you love me.” I am a selfish being. I don’t think I shall ever grow tired of hearing her breathless declarations.

She bites her lip as I kiss her tears away.

“Don’t cry.” I shudder above her, trying to temper the hunger that calls for me to sate it.

She whimpers beneath me. “I’ll always love you –”

The last of her words are muffled as I claim her lips in a bruising kiss.

“My dream…” she whispers, her speech slightly slurred. Her eyes are glazed as they swim with unshed tears and passion. Her hands travel the expanse of my back lazily, as if she is in a trance.

“Not a dream,” I gasp, holding onto her. I have to find a way to convince her otherwise. “I’m real, Katara. I’m in your dream.”

Arching her back, she cries out as oblivion carries her away. I feel her feminine sheath tighten around my flesh. I can do no other than follow her. Grasping her hips, I thrust into her frantically and welcome the rush of release.

--

The warm gush of his seed coats my inner channel. The sensation is surreal. My emotions are raw. He keeps telling me that he is really with me, but I know that is not so. He is far away, destined to meet his father one last time.

As he holds his weight above me, I study his sorrowful, yet sated expression. A golden fire burns in his eyes and he rolls onto his side, pulling me with him and making me gasp as he deepens our connection.

“You still think this a dream,” he murmurs softly, palming the flesh of my breasts and rolling my nipples between the pads of his fingers and thumb. “How can I convince you otherwise?”

Exhaustion overcomes me and I collapse on his chest. I am trapped in this dream. I can feel the lethargy of the herbs Song forced upon me. “Of what?” I mumble, confusion marring the haze of blissful abandon. I close my eyes and wonder if it is possible to sleep in a dream.

“Don’t go to sleep, Katara.” He plays with my hair, his own voice sounding groggy and peaceful. “Guard your thoughts and dreams. You’re safe in the desert. My father cannot reach you there. The Sages fight in dreams, corrupting all thoughts and turning them into nightmares. They seek to drive me insane. I fear they will do the same to you.”

Gathering my strength, I push against his pale chest and look at him. The lines around his mouth are testament to his permanent frown. His scar is more defined. The love he feels for me reflects in the depths of his eyes. The flex of his body within mine is so real. His words send a shiver down my spine as I realize the depth of the imagery that has carried me away. I have never dreamed in such detail before.

There is another presence – a benign soul hovering around us. I tense and prepare to defend myself.

His hands run up and down my forearms. “It’s Mahari,” he explains. “Just as the Sages anchor my father to dreams, she anchors me. Do not be afraid.”

None of this makes any sense. “Dreams are sacred to my people – visions of things to come or visits from the Spirit World.”

Then it occurs to me. Perhaps Zuko is dead. There is a strange twisting sensation in my chest. I can barely ask the question. “Are you dead?”

“Not yet.” His laughter echoes in my mind as the waves of slumber recede and I wake.

--

TBC
- 18
- 19
- 20
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Bitter Alliance