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Borealis: A Zutara Story	By : jaded_priceless Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > AU/AR - Alternate Universe/Alternate Reality Views: 33965 -:- 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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Still shaken Zuko was about to open the door when a knock from the other side stopped him. He turned and looked at Akesato asking silent permission to open it but she shook her head.
“It’s the fourth day of the week. I have a standing Mahjong game with Bong Cha in Engineering. She can’t see you leaving. Do you know the back passage?” Akesato asked frantically leading him to a hidden exit.
Zuko nodded in shock before turning and going the other way. The back passage was a series of movements as well as actual tunnel that earned its name due to Fire Lady Chiyo’s architectural genius. He had found a way to use stones and counterweights to mimic his natural Earthbending and allow discrete movement inside their home. Unless you knew to take three steps with your left foot after every twenty you made with your right you ended right back in the same room in which you started. It spoke much that his Grandfather trusted Akesato with it as the same technique could still be used to navigate the more secretive hallways in the family wing of the palace.
Zuko made sure the coast was clear before stepping into the hallway making it appear he was coming from the men’s side of the spa room. One of the attendant’s pointed to a sectioned portion indicating it was where he could find Katara. He pulled back the curtain; she was sleeping as a masked attendant gave her a massage. Zuko frowned as he remembered that masks were only worn in cases of extreme tension. Normally the hot bath, warmed oils, and expert hands were enough to relax a patron but if they weren’t sedative herbs were boiled so the intoxicating steam could calm them.
Last night had been their first night outside of the infirmary and she didn’t even rest well because of him. Zuko inhaled deeply allowing the scent of lavender and lemon balm to soothe his troubled mind. Akesato had said his Grandfather had won her over with kindness. He would be kind to Katara. He would find a way to make her accept the terms of her protection until they had a chance to escape.
Zuko strode over to where Ching Pei was teaching her daughter the qualities of different hair products and asked, “Can you teach me to do what she is doing?”
Ching Pei raised her eyebrow skeptically and Ching Mei began giggling. The head attendant placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder to shush her then asked, “My prince, do you find fault with our service?”
“No, no, of course not,” Zuko stammered. He hadn’t realized his request could be considered insulting. “It’s just that when I was little I would often see my father doing things for my mother: brushing her hair, giving her massages, laying out her clothing. He said he knew there were plenty of others employed to do so but he wished to show how much he cared for her. I would like to learn to do these things for Katara. Will you please teach me?”
Ching Pei sighed. He was her prince and although she was not supposed to know it her nephew. His mother, Princess Ursa, had been the one to tell her the significance of the tattoo on her stomach. There wasn’t much difference in their ages and had formed a friendship despite the difference in their stations. She and Fire Lord Ozai were having difficulty conceiving and it was considered lucky to stand stomach to stomach with a pregnant friend as the child in the full womb would call a playmate to the empty one. She had been pregnant with Ching Mei and Princess Ursa saw it when she lifted her shirt to expose her belly.
Ching Pei had thought the mark of the dragon and the sun were signs marking employment in the palace as she had often seen them in her portion of the servant’s wing. Ursa had been the one to tell her it was an acknowledgment of paternity. Those tattoos meant the bearer was the direct descendant of the Fire Lord whose signet they bore. They did not have the same status as true heirs but by no means were they bastards. If by some catastrophic event all of the true heirs were wiped out the next Fire Lord would be chosen from among them. The design etched onto her stomach and more recently her daughter was the signet belonging to Fire Lord Azulon; her mother did not have one. She was the daughter of the former Fire Lord.
Ching Pei had often wondered why she looked nothing like the man who shared a home with her mother. Ursa had been the one to tell her that the man she called Father was mostly a eunuch; a highly trained guard who had given up his manhood to protect the child and companion of the Fire Lord. It now made sense why Fire Lord Azulon had taken such an interest in her. He would often bring her toys and spend hours in their quarters listening to her mother sing while she played the shamisen. If the Avatar did escape and anything were to happen to Iroh, Ozai, Zuko and Azula there was a chance she could be Fire Lord. It would be best if she did not allow the Waterbender to kill him. She certainly did not want the burden of monarchy. “Prince Zuko, Ching Mei, come this way.”
Zuko took another glance at Katara before following her to into another room. The seven year old was sitting on a table and had removed her shoes. Her bare feet were still swinging when her mother instructed Zuko to sit in front of her. “The key to a good massage is pressure. Take her foot in your hands and apply pressure to the sole.”
Zuko lifted her foot. Fearing he would hurt her he ran his fingers lightly over the bottom of her foot. He was kicked for his efforts as she giggled and shrieked, “It tickles.”
He tried again this time using too much pressure. She jerked her foot back reflexively and he was kicked once more. Ching Pei allowed him to be kicked several more times while carefully watching for signs of anger amidst his frustration. After noticing there was less time between his deep calming breathes she placed her hands over his.
Ching Pei began slowly pressing against the joints of his fingers relaxing them before guiding them into position on her daughter’s foot, “We teach massage on children as the basic principles of child-rearing also apply to massage. You must be gentle but firm. Not enough pressure and the person whose troubles you wish to ease will kick you and laugh in your face. Too much pressure and they shrink away leaving you to feel guilty for hurting them. Using the right amount of gentleness and firmness will allow you not to feel distress if you cause them a minor pain while correcting what troubles them.”
Zuko lost track of time as her hands slowly enveloped his and Ching Mei slid away from the table. Her touch was firm and gentle like her mother’s; like his own’s had been. He watched as her fingers deftly stretched each joint, kneaded his calluses and roughened palms then ghosted tenderly over his skinned knuckles. Her hands moved up to his wrist, then to his forearms and back down removing all signs of tension from them.
Ching Pei began to speak as she once again worked on Zuko’s hands “My father once told me you can learn everything you need to about a man by his hands, whether he works hard or is a cheat; if he is the type of person to let things easily slip through his fingers or will cling tightly forcing whatever is in his grasp to be ripped away, if a man fights by striking the first blow or if he is the one to defend. Your hands show signs of all these things; yet there is softness in your calluses, bruises alongside your broken skin, roughness and smoothness to your palm.”
Her hands stilled and she looked Zuko in the eye, “These hands tell me that you are your own man and yet you are not. You are still a child seeking the shape of the man you wish to form. Hands that build must often destroy first and hands that seek to heal must often hurt.”
She stopped speaking to apply a rich substance Ching Mei had brought to her over Zuko’s hands, “This is mud from Lake Jang Hui. It is said to have soaked up the restorative powers of the Painted Lady.”
Her voice trailed off as she looked at her daughter happily slathering the substance on her own skin, “I once did not believe in such fanciful things. I thought they were only myths of my country born mother but yet the lake has been restored it seems to be even more pure and beautiful. How else could one so noble be brought low for ruining the countryside if not for divine intervention?”
Zuko said nothing. The night of the banquet, no, the night after he felt his inner flame dying while forcing himself on her, Katara had risen from the bed. She was still crying when she returned from the bathroom covered in red boot polish, a basin atop her head, and shrouded in the papers used for wiping when she asked to be taken to Ching Mei. He too had thought it was a vision of a spirit after being forced to endure his father’s toasts. He complied leading her through the secret passage even while a part of him whispered “It is Katara. You could be getting her killed you fool.”
He had watched as the water enveloped Ching Mei’s bandages and true peace came upon her sleeping form. Katara had whispered, “She will be fine” to Ching Pei and placed a water clad hand on her head as her eyelids fluttered in the direction of the glow surrounding her child. Zuko knew what she was asking, did Katara really do something to help her child or if it was only a dream.
Ching Mei had been carried onto the ship still bandaged. Azula had been the one to make the recommendation that the little girl be brought along with them. She and her grandmother were originally slated to remain in the Fire Nation. Zuko frowned and his eyes widened slowly as the epiphany washed over him, Ching Mei had been carried to the ship still in bandages. Azula had made the recommendation that she join them.
Azula was there, in Ba Sing Se and had no doubt seen Katara close the Avatar’s lightning wound. She knew the Avatar was alive and had lied to their father he killed him. Azula knew Katara could heal, had healed, Ching Mei was living evidence of it but she kept knowledge of her abilities a secret. She had not told their father that Katara was no ordinary Waterbender; she shared the miraculous gift of healing with Fire Lady Nini. Azula knew Katara could heal and said nothing to him. It made no sense for Azula to withhold that information.
“Prince Zuko. Prince Zuko,” the attendant who had been massaging Katara was calling his name.
Zuko snapped out of his daze muttering, “There are many wonders in the house of Agni” in response to Ching Pei’s unspoken question and his sister’s unusual silence.
“I am sorry to disturb you my Prince but Lady Ty Lee has an appointment. Lady Katara is still sleeping and I do not wish to trouble her,” the woman artfully explained warning Zuko of his fiancée’s pending arrival without saying her name.
Zuko looked down at his hands; Ching Mei was wiping the mud off of them although her own arms and legs were still covered. He smiled brightly at her and she blushed before rushing away to get a basin. Once his hands were clean Zuko rose. The little girl remained close by looking expectantly up at him, not knowing what else to do he gruffly asked, “Do I still have mud on me or something?”
She shook her head then boldly asked, “Will you come back to play with me tomorrow?”
“Huh?” Zuko grunted surprised by the question.
Ching Pei shook her head and swung her daughter onto her hip, “Prince Zuko can come back to play once little girls realize watching their grandmothers sleep is not a proper naptime if they expect to grow up healthy and strong.”
“I took a nap. It’s just that Baa-chan sings in her sleep. It woke me up,” she argued.

Zuko was still smiling as he lifted Katara into his arms. The attendant had been wearing a mask as she worked on her. The aroma of lavender and valerian hung heavily in the room and had seeped into her skin, hair and clothes. Careful not to disturb her he used the back passage to return to his room. He laid her on the bed and put on the prophylactic before doing what was necessary to protect her. Once he’d cleaned up after himself Zuko picked up one of the books Bingwen had given him.
It was a series of medical essays detailing the effect of stimulus on the human anatomy. Bingwen had bookmarked the chapters related to the erogenous zones of women. He hoped reading it would give him a better idea of where and how to touch Katara to make her body receptive so he would not hurt her. He never once stopped to consider why the Zhao twins each had copies of the same book bearing the official seal of the Fire Nation Navy and why they referred to it as “Level One Torture for Dummies”.

Katara was surprised to wake up in Zuko’s bedroom. She must have been in worse shape than she thought not to have woken as he carried her. She stretched and rolled over, almost expecting him to be next to her. He wasn’t. He was sitting at the desk reading. Or at least she thought he was reading until he stuck his tongue out and began making circles beneath his nose with two fingers. It reminded her of Toph attempting to teach Aang the best nose picking method.
“That’s not right,” Zuko grumbled before turning his fingers towards him and motioning as if he were scratching his nose while once again sticking out his tongue. Katara continued to watch as his actions became more comical. He turned toward her when her hands were no long enough to suppress her giggles.
“Katara! What are you doing?” Zuko shrieked desperate hoping she hadn’t seen him.
“What am I doing? What are you doing? It looks like you’re-”she laughed, “I don’t even know how to describe what you were doing. It looked like you were debating if your hands or tongue would be the best way to remove a really persistent booger.”
“What?” Zuko yelped relieved he hadn’t realized he wasn’t trying to figure out the best way to use his hands and mouth on her but offended she thought he was so crass as to not use a handkerchief. “Do you really think I eat boogers?”
The idea of the proud Prince reaching into his nose for a snack sent her into another round of guffaws. Even Toph had been grossed out when Momo did that.
She laughed harder when he screeched, “I haven’t done that since I was seven. It was a dare! I had to defend my honor!”
This brought to mind the image of Zuko, not shaggy haired Zuko, but a shorter, louder, angry ponytailed Zuko facing off against a large embroidered handkerchief. She clutched her stomach and ran to the bathroom, laughing so hard immediately upon waking was starting to shift the fluid in her bladder. While washing her hands Katara looked up, noticing for the first time the bathroom had no mirror. There was a slight difference in the shades of paint leading her to believe one had once been there but it made no sense for someone to remove the mirror.
Puzzled, she stepped back into the bedroom and asked, “Zuko, why doesn’t your bathroom have a mirror over the sink? I can tell one used to be there.”
Zuko’s eyes widened and he immediately turned away from her; angling his head so that only his unmarred side could be viewed. Katara belated realized why the mirror had been removed. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings with the question. She was happy that she did but somehow it felt like cheating. As if she had finished off a buffalo-walrus injured by another during a hunting expedition and took the first portion of the meat. She pushed aside her thoughts of fairness, they were at war. He was her enemy. A victory was victory it did not matter how you obtained it so long as your enemy was hurting. But still it bothered her. She had only meant to ask a simple question. She knew his scar was a sensitive issue and had not meant to bring it up.
Dinner was quieter than normal and after cleaning her plate and another portion Zuko took her on deck. This time instead of lying next to her on one of the wider loungers he selected one in the shadows and kept out of her sight.

It was only later, much later after he’d tied her hands to his and said good night without touching her did she remember her grandmother’s warnings about lavender. A little aids sleep; a lot combined with valerian, chamomile, hops and lemon balm can be used to knock a person out for an extended time period. She had bathed while in the spa room; her hair still smelled faintly of citrus. The attendant had given her a second pair of the silky tap pants citing that Zuko had requested several be kept there for her before placing her in the steam room with a pot of herbs to help her relax.
Her current undergarments, the ones she had been wearing upon waking up, were the same color but a different style and fabric.
She remained awake until sunrise debating whether or not she should be distressed he had been able to do that to her without her knowledge or relieved there was no pain and she had no memory of it.

Katara did not protest the next day or the next when Zuko insisted upon taking her to the spa. She had seen the animal skin Zhao 2 had given Zuko and knew what it was meant to trap the semen he otherwise would have released inside her. Instead of admitting she knew why he had been drugging her she slept. She knew that if she were ever to regain her strength her body needed rest. She needed her strength to fight.
It was sometimes better to play dead, patiently wait for the proper time to ambush than further deplete your dwindling resources by attacking fueled on adrenaline and emotion. She had done that. She had done that so very often and each time came out the worse for it. She would wait. She would allow him to drug her; allow her body to heal during its narcotic enforced sleep; allow the after effects of the drugs to stimulate her appetite as it sought to fully wake up.
She would take these things from Zuko,the rest and nutrients her body needed to restore itself and when the time was right, she would slaughter all but one onboard the Ursa while they thought she slept.
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Borealis: A Zutara Story