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The Price of Peace	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female > Katara/Zuko Views: 19136 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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.

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Interlude Fifteen –

Staring at her husband’s slumbering form, Katara sighed. Two days had passed since their arrival at the South Pole and he had yet to touch her. He had withdrawn from her since before their arrival. She didn’t know what to make of his mood.

She had no delusions. She knew they were not here to stay. Zuko’s nature would not stand for the drudgeries of simple village life. He belonged on the throne. They would return to the Fire Nation and she would assume a life much different than the one she was used to. The prospect frightened her, but she would carry out the duties destiny had in store for her.

Blushing, she remembered something that had been said to her earlier that day. Two of her friends had cornered her and had asked her what “it” was like. In a village this size, very little was private. They had teased her that “it” must not be very good, seeing as she was not with her husband at that moment. It was embarrassing, knowing what her peers suspected was true. Zuko was no interested in her.

Intimacy with Zuko during their journey had left her sore, but she was better now. She cleansed herself regularly and waited for her husband to initiate intimacy with her, but he never did. Emboldened and tired of waiting, Katara slid next to him and kissed his cheek. He barely stirred.

Sliding a hand along the material of his clothing, she slid it beneath the fabric and ran her hand along his warm skin lovingly. Moving her hand lower, she grasped his maleness and caressed it, smiling as his deep, stable breathing turned raspy.

Groaning, he shivered, whether from arousal or the cold, she did not know. She wiggled closer to him and wrapped her leg right leg around his left one.

His groan turned into a feral growl and Zuko woke with a start. He was painfully aroused and rightly so. Katara’s hand grasped his flesh and stole his will from him. As much as he wanted to spare her the pain of their upcoming separation, she was making it impossible from him to honor her. Grasping Katara’s wrists, he flipped her onto her back and pinned her beneath him. “You’re playing with fire, Katara of the Water Tribe,” he hissed, using her maiden name on purpose.

She could feel the blush burn her cheeks, but stared into the cold challenge of his eyes. Her hands pinned above her head, she surrendered as her husband settled between her thighs. Only clothes separated their inevitable union – a union she longed for.

Cursing softly under his breath, he released her hands and started pulling off his own clothing. His lips capture hers, tasting and drawing on the flesh between his teeth. Her lips felt swollen and used when he pulled away, his taste on her lips. He tugged on her pants, his breathing desperate and loud. Lifting her hips, Katara helped him push the offending material from her body.

Once Katara was exposed to him, Zuko rolled away and hastily removed his clothing. Before she could protest or move, he moved between her inviting thighs and guided himself to the moist crux of her womanhood. She crossed her ankles behind his buttock in an effort to pull him closer. As he swooped down to claim her hips, he gave her what she wanted and claimed her body as his.

Her sheath was tight and welcoming, slick with desire for him. Grinding his teeth, Zuko sought not to rush the pleasure that thrummed through his veins for immediate release. Holding himself above her body, he peered into the warmth of her soul. Her flesh yielded to his and he groaned, losing the battle between his need for her and his drive to do what is right.

The union was fiery and all consuming, burning both lovers and resulting in a shattering culmination. Spent, Zuko used the last of his strength to roll off his wife and curse his own weakness. “You shouldn’t have done that, Katara,” he stated coldly, distancing himself and pulling his clothing and boots on.

She stared at him with a satisfied grin, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Shoving one of his feet into his boot, he picked up her pants and tossed them to her. “Get dressed.”

Confusion marring her sated features, Katara stared at him, and then hastily pulled her clothing on. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

Pacing the compact space, Zuko ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “You shouldn’t have done that, Katara?” Agni, what if she was pregnant!

Katara shook her head in disbelief. “I am your wife.”

“No you’re not!” he snapped sharply, stomping his foot into his other boot.

She jumped up and started to pull her boots on as well, determined to follow him wherever he went. “What! What do you mean we aren’t married?” she shouted, even though he was only a few feet away from him.

With a frustrated snort, Zuko retreated into the icy winds with Katara close on his heels. “I’m dissolving the marriage! You will stay here while I go back to…the Fire Nation and deal with Qiang.”

Ignoring the bitter sting of the wind and snow and the gathering crowd around her, Katara focused on the man before her. His fists were clenched at his sides, his manner cold and aloof – like that of a disdainful stranger. “You can’t do that!”

“It is done,” he retorted with a regal wave of his hand.

“Perhaps it has escaped your attention that you are not Fire Lord here, My Lord,” Katara reminded him with an insulting bow.

Zuko approached her, torn between throttling her and throwing her to the ground and having his way with her. Would he always ache for her? “I never wanted to marry you, Katara,” he spat the lie as it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “I only did it to protect you…to get you away from the danger. Are you forgetting the attempt on your life?”

The crowd around them gasped, affronted that any one would try to harm her.

“You’re lying!” she railed at him, the snow between them flying in opposite directions and peppering the villagers.

He smirked, determined to drive the spike of derision deeper between them. “Temper, temper, little Waterbender. I can do anything I please. You are not my wife! There was never a coronation. You were never crowned Fire Lady.”

“You have no domain in our land!” she shouted, stepping around the gathering crowd, who was too busy watching the display to wipe the snow off their tunics.

“That may be so, Katara of the Water Tribe,” replied Zuko softly. “But once my warship arrives, I won’t have to worry about that minor technicality. Now, if you want to come back with me as my concubine, I’d be more than willing to --”

He landed on his ass in the snow several feet from where he was standing, ice coating his pants and tunic. He was surprised that he didn’t have an ice dagger sticking out of any vital areas of his anatomy.

“I am not your whore!” Katara stomped away, the crunch of the ice the only sound around them. Slowly but surely, the crowd dissipated. Everyone left him to his own devices, except one.

Kana stood over the toppled Fire Prince, not bothering to offer him a hand up. “You’re worse than Pakku of the Northern Tribe.”

Zuko stood up and brushed himself off. “Thank you… I think,” he retorted, unperturbed by the elder woman’s words.

She started to walk away. “I suppose you’ll be needing shelter after that display of arrogance and bad manners.”

Looking toward the southwestern horizon, Zuko grimaced. He’d wanted to wait to tell Katara he was leaving until his ship was here, but there was still no sign of rescue from this barren wasteland. “Yes,” he answered sullenly and followed her grandmother.

--

Hakoda rested his head on the cold metal railing of the Fire Nation ship. Just another day and he would be home. He would undoubtedly be picking up the pieces of his daughter or his son-in-law. He wasn’t really sure how Katara was going to take the news of Zuko’s departure. Knowing his daughter the way he did, she was not going to take the news lightly.

A man cleared his throat behind him and he sighed heavily. “Yes, Master Pakku?”

“I could bend the tide beneath the ship and hurry our journey along,” the Waterbending master suggested, trying to ease Hakoda’s worries.

“Thank you,” Katara’s father replied solemnly. “But we have made good time. That will not be necessary.”

Pakku settled next to him, silent and stoic.

“I am sure Kana will welcome you warmly,” Hakoda said, trying to get his mind off of his troubles.

The Waterbending Master shuddered. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“And why is that?” He arched an eyebrow in question.

Sighing, Pakku flicked an imagined piece of debris off the railing of the ship. “She and I did not part well last time.”

He couldn’t control the small chuckled that escaped, but censured it quickly. “When have you and Kana ever parted well?”

Pauku stared out over the vast ocean with a soft grunt. Even now, Kana was stubborn and refusing him. He only hoped his young pupil and the Fire Lord did not suffer the same fate as he and Kana had. He had spent a lifetime regretting words spoken in anger and haste – a lifetime to regret the loss of the only thing that ever mattered to him – the woman he loved.

--

TBC
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The Price of Peace