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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
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Act II

Chapter Eight

--

Staring into the element that always reminds me of Zuko, I chew my bottom lip and rock Kaya in my lap as I nurse her. I can feel my friends watching me – Song in particular. She has been tiptoeing around me ever since I woke up.

Yes, I was angry with her. I was angry with all of them. But they were right. I needed the rest. I didn’t realize how much the lack of sleep had affected my health, much less my children. I had become withdrawn, forcing my children to seek affection and comfort somewhere else. They are at a delicate age, needing constant reassurance and guidance.

I try to seek comfort by the fire, but the flames only torment me. I skate close to the edge of insanity as I try not to think of my last dream. It was just a dream, right? A highly erotic dream that had physically left me wet and oddly sore. I remember every detail. That is the problem. The details frighten me.

“It would help if you talked about them,” Song says from across the fire, her gaze trained upon me.

I look to her and see Ola sitting next to her. Ola is feeding my son small bites of finely chopped meat and vegetables. Sokka is in bed, and Toph and the Boulder are on watch outside. “About what?” I question her, knowing full well what she is referring to.

“I watched over you.” The healer exhales, controlling her frustration over my lack of disclosure and obvious stubbornness. “Your dreams keep you awake. If you talk about them, you can control them.”

“They are the future…visits from the Spirit World,” I whisper, repeating the teachings of my people.

“Dreams are what you make of them,” Ola replies, cooing to my son and coaxing him to eat the vegetables.

A lump forms in my throat. I’ve always had a difficult time believing in the intangible practices of my tribe, but they have been ingrained upon me since the moment I was born. I have dreamt of my mother ever since her death, taking a small measure of comfort in her “visitations.” It is strange that I have not dreamt of her since the comet arrived.

“Have…” My voice catches as I clear the lump from my throat. “Have either of you had a dream where it seemed so real that you ache from it? He kept telling me he was real…that he…”

“Who?” Song coaxes me into revealing my dream.

With a shuddering sigh, I retell the story, edging around the intimate details, but capturing the important highlights. “Is it true? Can people walk in dreams?”

The healer’s eyes are wide as she looks at the former Zhang leader who shrugs her shoulders in confusion. “Only the Maharishi are capable of dream-walking. They bridge the gap between souls,” Song replies, her answer doing little to comfort me.

“Zuko said Mahari was anchoring him to my dream.” Kaya shudders in my arms, drowsy with sleep. Slipping a finger between her lips and my breast, I move her in my lap and she emits a hearty belch. Out of habit, I listen to her breathing. “Is that possible?”

“The Maharishi is an Earth Kingdom religious sect that claims mystic powers. They were advisors to the king in the old times. There are seers and dream-walkers. They were touted as assassins, killing people in their dreams and making it look like the person died in their sleep.”

I can feel my tenuous grasp on reality slipping as I consider the healer’s words. I look across the fire to Iroh, then down at Kaya. The original nightmare is always on the cusp of my thoughts. I have watched my children sleep, enjoyed the wondrous sound of them laughing as they dreamt.

I want to shake Kaya to prevent her from going to sleep, but I know I mustn’t. Everything is connected -- the elements, the living, the dead, and even dreams. Are my children being hunted in their dreams?

“No, Katara.” Song does her best to calm me as she studies my rising panic. “You have to sleep. So do the children. We’ll watch over them as they sleep…wake them if they seem distressed.”

Kaya looks peaceful as she drifts off. I will do anything to protect my children, even stave off sleep deprivation and insanity.

--

It has been a week since I visited Katara’s dream. Mahari need not reassure me that it was real. I know that it was, for I could have never imagined the changes that I saw in her.

The haunted look in her eyes was unmistakable. Even in the most difficult of times, Katara had always managed to keep a spark of hope in her eyes. I pray to Agni that I managed to give her some of that hope back. I pray that she believed me…that she knew I was real and that she wasn’t alone.

I want to go back. I want to hold her and tell her that I love her and that everything is going to be all right. I want to tell her how sorry I am…that I couldn’t protect her. But I can’t go back.

Mahari says it is too dangerous. She is convinced that the Sages cannot find the path to Katara. She is convinced that they can only reach her through me. As long as I stay away from her, they cannot harm her.

I don’t know what to think anymore. I warned her to guard her dreams. She seemed so frail, so afraid, but I could sense her determination, her will to survive anything. That is what I love most about Katara – her will.

I ignore the ever-present ache in my heart. There is so much I must do that it overwhelms me at times. I wish I had half the courage Katara has. I will not survive the confrontation with my father. Of that, I am sure. In the very least, I pray to Agni that I am able to drag his corrupt soul into the Spirit World with me and make the world safe for the children.

--

TBC

A/N – I cannot apologize enough for the length of this chapter. I used to have moderate carpal tunnel. Now, it is severe. All options have been exhausted, and I am currently in the process of getting approval for surgery from my lovely HMO insurance company. To say the least, this story is going to be delayed. I don’t know for how long. I will probably get one more chapter cranked out before the actual surgery. If not, I have included an extra scene beneath the author’s notes. Scroll down. This is the happy ending I promised everybody, but it is subject to change. It contains mature content.

Title: A Look

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Her serene gaze catches mine from across the room. Even after fifteen years, she still takes my breath away. For a moment, the sound of blood rushing through my veins blocks the insipid conversation of the honored guests around me. I excuse myself from the room of dignitaries and make my way through the great halls, out of the noise, and into the peaceful garden.

Crickets chirp in concert, doing nothing for the fire that burns in my veins for Katara. I look toward the palace, waiting for her to join me. I am not a patient man.

I want her.

The clack of wood on wood heralds my lover’s arrival as she moves over the bridge. My passion for her has no bounds. I doubt she will be able to return to the celebration after I am through with her. I hide in the shadows and watch her demure figure make its way from the bridge and into the garden.

She is dressed in the way of my people, the finest silk of red and gold hiding her womanly curves from me. I shall pluck the combs from her hair and ruin the elaborate design. The more I think about what I shall do to Katara the more I doubt that I shall return to the celebration.

She is getting closer, peering into the shadows and whispering my name, but I do not answer her. Blood rushes through me, centering in my crotch and hardening my sex. I touch myself through the fabric of my trousers and envision my lover on her knees and opening her luscious lips to receive my hot seed. The alluring scent of lavender, chamomile, and ylang-ylang invades my olfactory nerves as she steps closer to me.

“Zuko,” she calls my name into the darkness and I smile. She still doesn’t see me. She steps into my shadowed realm and I take a step back, almost afraid to lose the perfection of the moment.

“Over here,” I answer, my voice so husky that I hardly recognize it.

Her shadow slinks toward me, her passionate nature leading her toward my ravenous intentions. Grasping her wrist, I yank her against me and seal my lips over hers. I want to be gentle, but I can’t. I am not a gentle man. I push my tongue against hers, in silent demand that it duel with mine. Her lips and tongue welcome my invasion, and I greedily sip the moans of unresolved lust.

I pull the combs from her hair and fist my fingers in the silken strands. Pulling her hair, I tilt her head back and feast on the delicate flesh of her jaw and the arch of her neck. I mean to mark her. I want the whole world to know that she is mine.

Katara’s breathless “yeses” feed the flame of my desire for her. She strokes my member through my trousers, cupping the weight of my sacs in her palm.

My trembling fingers undo the eyelets of her robe and claw the material away from her bosom. Her breasts spill free and I stoop to taste the temptation of her dark skin. She jerks in my arms as I lap at the sensitive flesh of her nipples. They have become even more sensitive due to her condition. She is newly pregnant with our fourth child. It is amazing we do not have more children. I cannot control myself whenever I am around her.

She is my anchor. Without her, I would slip into the madness that lingers in my blood. She is the water that cools the fire within me.

Her hand slides into my pants and I feel the firm grasp of her hand surround the center of my needy flesh. She strokes me, fanning the embers of my lust for her.

Breaking away, I lead her from the shadows and into a small alcove of light with a cement bench in the center. Katara tries to touch me, but I still her movements and capture her wrists. If she touches me, I’ll explode.

--

When his golden gaze met mine from across the room, I knew my time at the celebration was over. I followed him into the garden, anticipating his intentions.

Breathlessly, I yield to his silent commands as he guides me to the cement bench. He could have me on the ground for all I care. I knew my dress would not survive his affections. I wouldn’t mind if it was stained as well.

Grasping the slight bulge of my abdomen and both my wrists, he dances me toward the bench, deftly bending me over it and lifting the folds of my dress. I hold onto the cool stone and widen my stance in invitation as he rolls my underwear down my thighs far enough to give him the access he desires.

His hands grasp my buttocks, molding the soft flesh as though he owns it. I arch my back wantonly, teasing him with my wet sex. I gasp in pleasure and shock as his fingers spread me open. The dart of his tongue sends me spiraling out of control. I am no longer inhibited with him. This position should embarrass me, but it doesn’t. Zuko has shown me pleasure beyond my wildest imaginings. He has claimed me in ways I never thought possible.

He kisses and licks my intimate places, groaning in appreciation as he drinks the nectar from my core. I am helpless to contain the flow and he laps at my essence greedily with each push and pull of his tongue.

I cry out in ecstasy as he pulls away long enough only to replace his tongue with his long fingers. He thrusts them into me and seeks the spongy tissues deep inside my core. I cry out as my muscles clench round his fingers.

“Come for me, Katara.” His breath is hot against my backside.

--

Rubbing frantic circles around her clitoris with one hand, I mimic the thrust of a lover’s flesh with my other. Katara is so uninhibited. She will give me anything I ask for. It isn’t long before she cries out her release, the gentle squeeze of her muscles makes me harder than I ever imagined.

Standing, I remove enough of my clothing to free my readied organ. Grasping her hips, I surge forward and bury myself in her welcoming heat. The coupling is hurried and desperate. She is like the blue flame, elusive and hot, calling forth my male essence in a rush of unadulterated bliss.

I hear voices in the distance and withdraw from the haven of her body, adjusting my clothing with an economy of motion I have grown accustomed to. I shrug off my tunic and help my wife to cover her ruined dress.

“I thought I saw them go this way,” our four-year-old daughter’s voice chatters excitedly.

“You should leave your mother and father alone, Mina,” a patient, if not exhausted voice chastises in the distance. “Your father has great responsibilities. He rarely gets time alone with your mother.”

I can hardly contain my smile as Mahari chases after our daughter. The seer has become my most trusted advisor, saving my life on more than one occasion. She understands my need for Katara.

“Pa Pa!” Mina shouts shrilly, paying no mind to decorum as she runs toward me.

Dropping to my knees, I open my arms in greeting. I missed so much with Iroh and Kaya, but I was a part of Mina’s entry into this world – a world that is now balanced and calm.

Mina pulls away, eying me shrewdly. “Why is Ma Ma wearing your tunic?”

I smile, lifting my daughter in my arms. My gaze meets Katara’s. She is blushing furiously.

“Ma Ma caught her dress on a branch and tore it,” I explain, staring at Mahari in challenge as she smirks.

“I wanted to say goodnight,” Mina says, grabbing my cheeks and forcing me to stare into her yellow eyes. “I missed you. I always miss you and Ma Ma.”

Smiling, Katara steps closer, pressing against me and curling one of Mina’s jet black curls around her finger. My daughter knows how to manipulate me. Once she was born, I could feel the connection between us. Her tiny hand on my scarred flesh humbles me every time. In her eyes, I can do no wrong. She doesn’t know that I have the blood of my sire on my hands, the guilt of my past always weighing heavily upon my shoulders.

“Go with your mother and Mahari,” I instruct her firmly. “I will be there shortly.”

Our daughter pouts, but does as she is told. Katara casts a look over her shoulder as she walks away from me. Her gaze holds the promise of passionate lovemaking once I return.

--

A/N – This isn’t the end of the story. It’s merely a preview of things to come. I hope you enjoyed it. As always, I appreciate any constructive comments and criticisms.
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Bitter Alliance