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The Price of Peace	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female > Katara/Zuko Views: 19137 -:- 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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Chapter Twenty-four

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She was nervous. Why was she nervous? She had nothing to be nervous about. Was it a crime to still love one’s husband?

No, her thoughts answered.

Did it matter that Zuko had toyed with her affections?

“Yes,” Katara whispered to her reflection in the mirror as the truth of pride stared back at her. She dragged a comb through her hair, not even wincing as it snagged on some of the tangles in her long, dark tresses. All the hurt feelings… all the wounded pride… and she still loved him. No matter how much she wanted to stop, she couldn’t.

That is why she would see things through. That is why she would sup with her husband and treat him with the same cold formality he treated her with. She would do her duty. She would play her part. The only problem was that she wasn’t sure what that part was.

Zuko’s words at the South Pole haunted her. There had been a wedding ceremony, but no coronation. She was his wife, but not his equal. She didn’t know which was worse – the doubt over her status or the pain over her loveless marriage.

She couldn’t change her fate. She was tied to this destiny whether she willed it or not. She would fight for peace. She would not let it die at the hands of the corrupt. Aang had explained what was expected of her. Aang had explained the threat Azula represented to everything they had worked for.

All Azula had to do was challenge Zuko to an Agni Kai. She didn’t even have to win. She had the power to submerge the Fire Nation in civil war. She was Ozai’s rightful heir. However, if Zuko were to have a child… an heir...

Katara shivered even though the night air was warm. Now she understood Zuko’s reluctant nature. She could understand his reasons for not wanting children.

But she knew him. He would do his duty. He would secure his throne by any means necessary. He would bring a child into this war for peace.

Closing her eyes, she blinked back the tears. She didn’t know if she could. She didn’t know if she could do the same. She didn’t know if she could lay with a man who did not love her, much less let him sire a child.

Broodmare. That was her role now.

That is what her husband intended for her. That is why he had come for her. Like him, she would do her duty. Unlike him, she would love the child.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, Katara touched her necklace. The stage was set. It was time for her to play her part.

--

Zuko paced the length of the grand dining room of the Bei Fong family worriedly. Two places had been set at the long table that looked as though it could seat a large dinner party. Steam rose from the dishes as they were placed upon the table. “And just how is this supposed to be intimate again?”

Toph blew the hair out of her eyes in frustration. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any ‘small’ tables. It –”

“Then why are the chairs so far apart?” asked Zuko, tugging at the high collar of the tunic that he had borrowed from Toph’s father. “I’m going to have to yell just to talk to her.”

“As I was trying to say…” Toph snapped at him, “It will be intimate because you will be serving her. It’s important that you serve the soup first. Cold soup is not very appetizing. Trust me.”

Zuko shrugged his shoulders, his appetite mysteriously absent. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if I move my chair closer?”

Toph sighed and shook her head. “That is not proper manners.”

Bells rang in the distance, signaling the time. Katara would arrive at any moment.

Dragging the two chairs together, Zuko ignored the Earthbender’s protestations and quickly pulled the place settings and dishes into place.

“I appreciate your help, Toph, but I have to do this my way,” he said, taking her by the elbow and herding her toward the servant’s door. “And since when do you care about manners?”

Starting to protest, Toph caught her breath as Zuko closed the door in her face.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Zuko turned and surveyed the room. He wasn’t really concerned with the meal. He was more concerned with apologizing to his wife. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he watched the door expectantly and prayed to Agni that Katara could forgive him. Humility was not a concept he was familiar with, and he had a feeling that he was going to get a crash course in it tonight.

The large double doors creaked open slowly, soft light spilling from the hall into the dining area. He held his breath and waited. It seemed like an eternity as he drank in her appearance. He willed his errant, undeserving libido to stay quiet, but seeing his wife brought back the lonely memories of his stark, dutiful existence. He quelled the desire to yank her into his arms and “make” her forgive him. No matter how much he wanted to, he could not do that to her.

Katara approached him, her chilling gaze momentarily capturing his before looking down. “You wished to speak to me, Fire Lord Zuko?” She bowed, observing old traditions between royal spouses.

A look of shock crossed his features. Zuko wasn’t certain which frightened him more, her use of his title or the cool demeanor in which she acknowledged him. There was a dispassionate look about her gaze, a dull, lifeless glint of resolution. He was so used to seeing the fire of rebellion in Katara that he felt as if he were looking at an entirely different person.

A modest crimson tunic clung to her curves, and black trousers covered her legs. The tunic matched the ribbon that wrapped round her neck – the ribbon that held his betrothal necklace in place. “Katara?” he spoke at last, her name raspy in his throat as if he even doubted his right to say it.

She righted herself and sat back on her ankles. She made no attempt to look at him and kept staring at his feet. “My lord?”

Her voice was even and dull, much like his mother’s voice whenever she had addressed his father. It was submission and obedience, qualities he had never associated with Katara.

Zuko knelt before his wife, gently cupping her chin and lifting her head. No matter how hard he tried he could not force her to meet his gaze. “Katara, please don’t do this.”

“Does my appearance displease you, my lord?” she asked, a subtle bite in her words, a quality that showed him that her act was just that – an act.

He could hear the beating of his heart as it pounded with relief. For a moment, he had thought he had killed her love for him. He had thought her spirit defeated.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly.

She kept her eyes down, subservient in the ways of wife to husband. “I am looking at you, my lord. You have a green tunic on.”

Smothering his smirk, Zuko sighed. He could hear the spirit of rebellion in her tone, but he needed to see it too. “Look into my eyes, wife.”

The blue fire in her eyes was unmistakable. Her jaw clenched, and her lips were set in a thin line. There was no doubt about it. Katara was pouting.

He looked away, amused. He would never have figured Katara to be a woman who would resort to pouting. Unable to resist, he placed a gentle kiss upon her lips, and helped her to stand. “You look beautiful, wife.”

Beneath the carefully constructed façade, Katara fumed. If he called her wife one more time, she was going to knock him on his ass. She didn’t know who to be angrier with, herself or him. Her lips tingled, and she wanted to pull him to her for a deeper kiss. The feel of his hand upon her waist as he guided her to a chair sent a trail of heat coursing through her body.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the compliment with a frosty snap. She sat down and folded her hands in her lap, waiting for him to sit. She was startled when he walked around the table and started serving her.

He placed a bowl of soup in front of her and forwent his. His appetite was ruined and he needed his wits about him if he were to woo his wife properly.

She stared at the bowl as if there were poison in it. Maybe there was poison. She certainly wouldn’t put it past Zuko to drug her. Plastering a fake smile upon her lips, she pushed the bowl toward him.

Picking it up, Zuko placed it in front of her. “Please… allow me to serve you.”

Her eyes narrowed. What was he up to? “As you wish, my lord.”

Zuko watched as she took a sip of the broth and set it aside. “It is the very least I could do after the way… I treated you.”

Her eyes held his for the briefest of moments before she turned away. If this was his way of apologizing, he had a long way to go. He seemed calm and unapproachable. He should be groveling at her feet, begging for her cooperation, not setting fire to her blood with his touch.

He served her roasted duck next, motioning for her to sample the tender meat. When she did not move to touch it, he gathered his chopsticks, picked up a piece, and offered it to her.

Resisting the urge to smack his hand away, she opened her mouth and accepted his offering, chewing the morsel before she swallowed it.

“No matter what you may believe,” Zuko said, picking another piece of meat up with his chopsticks and holding it up to her lips. “I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted to protect you.”

Her carefully constructed control shattered like an ancient ice shelf giving way to the heat of the sun.

“Protect me?” She seethed. Grasping the dish of roasted duck, she tossed the contents into his lap.

Zuko jerked backwards as the meat and its sauce saturated his tunic and trousers. He looked down to assess the damage. By the time he looked up, the platter of steamed vegetables was dumped on his head.

“I don’t need your protection!” Katara railed, grasping the bowl of rice and preparing for the next assault.

Jumping up, he grabbed her wrist and forced her to drop it. “Stop it, wife.”

“Oh wait! I do need protection! I need protection from you!” She tried to jerk away, but he held firm. “I am not your wife! If you call me that again, I will freeze your… manly parts off!”

Even though he was covered in dinner, he couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t doubt Katara’s ability to carry out her threat and wanted to protect himself, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“You rejected me! You insulted me! You abandoned me!” she rattled off his sins as though they were an offensive litany. She turned her head, not wanting him to see the buildup of tears welling in her eyes. She wasn’t going to give the arrogant bastard the satisfaction that she still loved him. It didn’t matter what he did. It didn’t matter how far he pushed her away, she would never stop loving him.

“I know. I know. I know.” The words of apology stuck in his throat. They sounded so much simpler in his mind.

Tell her the truth. His uncle’s words played though his mind. One can never go wrong with the truth, unless you are on a field of battle. Then the truth is secondary to staying alive.

“I love you!” he blurted. He didn’t know who was more surprised by his admission, himself or Katara. He knew he loved her, but he had never said the words out loud to anyone – not even his own mother.

Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears. The graceful arch of her brow was furrowed in anger. His admission was a ploy, a ploy to get her to go along. That’s what it was. He needed her cooperation. He needed her to play the role of his wife long enough to secure the throne. She knew he was ruthless. That was the very nature of his native element. Fire didn’t discriminate. It didn’t care. It consumed with little thought, driven by the spark that ignites it.

At least, the frost yielded to the sun. At least ice melted into water. At least water sustained life. For him to make such an admission was surely a lie. He had made his position perfectly clear. Everything he’d done, he’d done to protect her and that which he held dear – his honor.

She would never forget the look of disdain on his face when she had first arrived. He hadn’t wanted to marry her. He had done so to “protect her.”

“Don’t.” She shook her head in denial. “Don’t lie to me.”

Releasing her wrists, he cupped her face and kissed her cheeks. He gave a strangled groan. “I love you. Please forgive me. Please believe me,” he chuffed against her lips before sealing them with his.

She groaned helplessly, clutching his soiled tunic and giving into lust. She whimpered when he broke the kiss.

“I don’t deserve… you,” he whispered, sincerity in his golden gaze. “You deserve so much more. The thought of something happening to you… It consumes me. Even in times of peace, my life is threatened. I tried… Agni, I tried to protect you from it.

“I can’t do it anymore, Katara.” He brushed his hands over her shoulders and shuddered. “I’m not strong enough. I can’t walk out of your life again. I don’t think I would survive it.”

Anger swayed. Hope blossomed. She listened to him, wondering if this was all a dream. How many times had she dreamt of Zuko professing his undying love for her?

He bowed his head. “We’ll go away. We’ll hide. No one will ever find us.”

His words melted her resolve, and she leaned into him and found his lips. She couldn’t let him do what he was suggesting. She couldn’t let him abandon his duties. “Stop. Stop saying such things.”

Part of her wanted to laugh while the other part wanted to weep. He looked so sincere, even with the vegetables and sauce in his hair and on his shoulders.

Letting go of her hands, he backed away, the set of his shoulders slumped in defeat. The tone in which he addressed her sent chills through her soul. “I’m sorry, Katara.”

She held on to his tunic and shook him. “Are we destined to misunderstand one another, Zuko?”

“I had hope that you could forgive me,” he stated softly. “I had hoped that you still…loved me.”

May the Spirits of her Ancestors preserve her! The man was dense. He thought she was rejecting him. “I still love you!” She somehow resisted the urge to call him an idiot. “As far as forgiving you… You’ll be apologizing for the rest of your life.”

--

TBC

Author’s notes – The apology continues, and great makeup sex next chapter! Yeah! Tons of thanks to Moncapitan for not making it easy for Zuko… or me.
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The Price of Peace