Archive of Our Own

Zuko had lost track of time long ago.

It had been months, he knew that. He had seen the full moon at least twice. Three times, maybe. He hadn't been keeping track at first.

He'd thought his uncle would rescue him at first.

The pirates had taken him hostage. He'd been stupid, he saw that now, telling them who he was as if he thought that would impress them, make them back off. It had only made them take him prisoner, instead of giving him a beating and leaving him in the market-place where they'd met. (He'd fought hard. Many of them had scars like his now, on face or body).

They'd avoided Iroh, somehow, and sent word by messenger-hawk to the Fire Lord himself. We have your son. Pay ransom or have him returned in pieces.

They'd showed him the message that came back, over the Fire Lord's own seal. "I have no son weak enough to be captured by common pirates. Do as you please." At first they'd accused him of lying. But Zuko hadn't been able to keep the tears at bay when he realized his father had discarded him, abandoned him, and oddly enough, that had made them understand. He was who he said he was... his father just didn't care.

He'd told them that Uncle Iroh would pay a ransom, and they'd believed that too. That was when they'd told him that 'that old pain in the ass' had been tearing the southern oceans apart looking for him, keeping the pirates constantly on the move, until orders from the Fire Nation had taken the ship back home. Their spies had said that the old man had tried to countermand orders from the Fire Lord himself, and been restrained.

Nobody would come for him now.

He'd been left relatively intact until then. After that, the captain had explained with gruesome cheerfulness that he was still worth money. He knew a lot about the Fire Nation. About troop movements, about defenses, all sorts of useful things. That was valuable to the Earth Kingdom. So the captain had sent out new messages, and set about making sure Zuko would answer any questions made him by the time the answers came back.

He'd spat defiance at first, told them they could never make him talk. Never make him beg.

He'd been very wrong about that.

Azula would like these guys, he'd thought several times. It turned out that she was right - torturing someone over a long period of time took a certain amount of skill. You didn't need to do a lot of damage to cause pain, and it would slowly wear the subject down... or not so slowly. When they stopped giving him water, he'd learned to beg quickly enough.

Now he clung to something Iroh had told him long ago, talking about the possibility of capture by the enemy. "Do not let your pride destroy you," he'd said, unusually grave. "Let yourself seem weak. Beg, crawl, weep... it will happen sooner or later, so do it sooner, when it is still a choice. The weaker you are, the less wary they will be of you, and then escape may be possible. Do not spend your strength on resisting. Let yourself be weak, and save strength for when it may help you."

They thought he was broken, now. He wasn't, not quite. He still thought about escaping. They would have to take him out of this cell to sell him. Sooner or later, he would see open sky and water again, and then he might have a chance. Maybe.

"Hey, Scarface." A harsh voice and the sound of the door opening broke into his musing, and he cowered automatically, ducking his face into the corner of his cell, curling his emaciated body into a ball to protect against kicks. None came, and to his surprise he heard a little whimper that he was pretty sure didn't come from him. "Brought you some company. Don't have too much fun with her!"

Her. That wasn't good. There was a louder whimper, and he heard a body hitting the wall of his tiny, stinking cell. (They didn't bother emptying his bucket until it was full - and only then because the captain didn't care to walk through puddles of excrement) Then the door slammed again.

Zuko looked around slowly, with his good eye, wary of traps.

It didn't seem like a trap. It was a girl... Water Tribe, obviously, with her dark skin and blue and white clothes. There wasn't much light in the cell, but Zuko's eyes were used to that - he could see cheeks still childishly rounded over the hand she had pressed over her mouth, blue eyes huge with terror. She was looking around - for 'Scarface', of course - blinking at the dimness.

He moved, and she cowered back, hand still pressed to her mouth. "Don't worry," he said, surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded. He hadn't talked much lately. "I won't hurt you. I'm a prisoner too."

"Oh." She lowered her hand - and she was young, younger than he was, but already lovely, with those blue eyes and soft lips. A pity for her, he thought. Maybe if she'd been ugly, the pirates wouldn't have taken her. "W-who are you?"

He moved a little more, turning to look at her with both eyes. She saw the scar and flinched, but... it didn't bother him. She was terrified of what the pirates were going to do to her. She probably thought it had been them. "My name is Zuko. What's yours?"

"Katara." She shifted closer, looking at him, and he saw horror in those big eyes. "What did they do to you?"

"Their patriotic duty," Zuko said, with a rusty crack that had been a laugh once. "I'm Fire Nation. They're... I'm not sure what they are. Earth Kingdom, I suppose."

"They wouldn't care about their patriotic duty if it bit them in the butt," Katara said, and he was startled to see a core of defiant anger under the fear. "This is awful. Are you cold?" To his complete surprise, he felt a little warm hand rest on his back, between the scars and bruises. "You feel like ice."

"I'm fine. I'm used to it." He wasn't. The cold had been their most effective weapon. He'd been stripped down to a loincloth early on - though why they'd left him that scrap of dignity he didn't know - and shoved into the cell with its open window. At first he'd been able to keep himself warm enough... but then he'd realized, slowly, that they weren't feeding him enough to fuel his bending and keep him alive. He'd almost starved himself before realizing that, and now the cold bit all the deeper.

"No you're not, you're half-frozen."

She got up, and he saw that she wasn't shackled the way he was. Then his eyes bugged and he turned his face to the wall because her sash had been yanked off and she was unwrapping her dress. "Don't!" he spluttered, his face actually feeling warm with the force of his sudden blush.

"Oh, don't be silly," she said firmly, and warm, soft cloth spread over him, tucked around him with little hands. "You need it more than I do."

He risked a tiny peek, and saw with relief that she was still dressed - a heavy shirt that fell past her hips and dark blue leggings. "You shouldn't," he said, but the warmth was blissful and he didn't push the cloth away. "When the pirates come back - "

"I know." Her voice wavered. "I know what pirates do. And I stole something from them, so they're mad at me. I know what's going to happen." She sat down beside him, pulling her knees up to her chin. "I'd rather give it to you than have them take it." Then she shook her head and smiled at him. "But it probably won't come to that. My brother and my friend Aang will come after us. Aang's a really powerful bender. They'll rescue us."

Zuko snorted. "I'm a bender, too, and it didn't help me."

She cocked her head, little hair-loops brushing her cheeks. "You're a fire-bender? And... you're in a wooden cell?"

Zuko nodded, lifting his wrist to show her the heavy chain. "I could burn this room, if I wanted to - but I'd still be in it if I did. They know I'm not going to burn myself to death just to do a little damage to their ship."

"Oh. I didn't think of that." Katara sighed. "That's pretty sneaky."

"Yeah." The warmth was seeping into him, and Zuko found his eyes getting heavy. He hadn't slept well in longer than he could remember. "Pretend to be weak," he found himself saying. "Cry."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"They'll hurt you. If you try to fight, it'll get worse. Cry and make a big fuss. That's what they want. If they get that quickly, it won't be as bad." Zuko sighed, letting his head fall back against the wall. "Trust me."

He heard her breath catch in a near-sob, but she cleared her throat and spoke firmly. "That's... that's good advice. Thank you. I promise, when Aang and Sokka come, we're not going to leave you here."

It had been so long since rescue had seemed possible that that had never occurred to him. He blinked, turning his head to look at her again. "You will? But... you're Water Tribe. I'm Fire Nation. I'm your enemy."

"No, you're not. You're a prisoner, like me. And you tried to help me." She slid her little warm hand into his filthy one. It was the softest thing he'd ever felt, he thought. "I'm going to get you out of here."

She wouldn't. But it was a nice thought, and Zuko let himself smile a little. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Her voice softened. "You look tired. Do you want to go to sleep for a while? I bet you haven't been sleeping much, cold and uncomfortable like this."

"Not much, no." He yawned. "Maybe for a while. They'll leave you in here long enough for you to get really scared, so we'll have time."

"Okay." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Shuffle over."

Somehow, he wasn't sure how, Zuko found himself curled on his side. Her thick wool dress was tucked around him, and his head was resting in her lap. The last thing he felt before sleep broke over him was her soft little hand smoothing his filthy hair.

* * *

"Katara! Katara!" Sokka sounded frantic, and Katara only just remembered to ease Zuko's head off her lap gently before she leaped up and pounded on the door.

"Sokka! Sokka, I'm here! The door's locked!"

"Who's got the keys?! Is it you?" Katara heard scuffling and a nasty gurgling sound, then fumbling at the door. "Katara, I'm here, it's going to be okay. Damn it, which... aha!"

The door got yanked open, and Sokka made a grab for her. "Come on! Aang's glowing it up out there, but we've got to go!"

Katara slid away from his hand, kneeling beside Zuko. He was awake, but clearly groggy, shaking his head weakly. "Sokka, give me those keys."

Sokka took one look at the emaciated boy with his scarred face and body, and handed her the keys. "Try that big one on the end, that looks like the right size."

It was. The skin under the manacle was raw and ulcerated, and Katara hissed softly. "It's a miracle he hasn't died of an infection. Zuko, can you walk?"

"I don't..." Zuko shook his head again, looking confused. "I don't know. I haven't tried in weeks."

"I'll help him. Come on." Sokka grabbed one of Zuko's arms and hauled it over his shoulder, standing up. Katara noticed for the first time that the knife in his other hand was dripping red, and she flinched. Sokka had never had to really hurt anyone before - had he killed for the first time because of her?

But there was no time to think about that now. She picked up the dress that had slid off Zuko when he stood up, and they made a run for it, past a huddled figure lying in a puddle that Katara dared not look at too closely. Outside, Aang was in the Avatar state - most of the pirates seemed to have jumped overboard or been blown or washed there. As soon as he saw her, Aang pulled up a wave, rising two and then three times as high as the mast... and then it narrowed, plunging down into the ship as a spear of ice, driving through it with a terrible crunching sound. Appa groaned disapprovingly as the ship beside him groaned as well, but he didn't draw away, and Sokka all but threw Katara and Zuko across into the saddle. He grabbed Aang by the ankle and hauled him across as well, and in moments they were in the air, the cries of the pirates fading behind them.

A little to her own surprise, Katara burst into tears - loud, almost hysterical sobs that stifled Sokka's scolding before he'd gotten more than a sentence or two out. Aang, his arrows no longer glowing and his eyes clear, knelt beside her to hug her tightly, and Zuko laid a bony hand on her knee. She reached out, even though he was mostly a blur of tears, and managed to find his shoulder to pat it. "You're safe now," she told him, and wondered if she was trying to reassure him or herself.

She was still shaky and miserable, but when she finally wiped enough tears away to see, Zuko was asleep under a blanket that Sokka had pulled over him, his thin face strangely peaceful. When she'd finished crying, Sokka scolded just a little, and he and Aang both hugged her. Then they turned, flying inland to where the pirates could not go.

While Zuko and Aang slept the deep sleep of utter exhaustion, Sokka managed to find a small lake and landed Appa beside it. Aang woke up when they landed, and between the three of them they lifted Zuko down onto the ground, cradled in the blanket.

"I think he has fleas," Sokka said, eyeing the still-sleeping Zuko uncertainly. "And those cuts don't look good."

"No." Katara sniffled a bit, but nodded. "We're going to have to get him into the lake, I think, and wash him off. Then I can treat his cuts and bruises."

They got him to the edge, then Sokka put his foot down. "I am not taking his underwear off!" he said firmly.

"But Sokka, you're a guy - "

"And that's why I'm not doing it!" Sokka's face was very red. "I'm not going to... to handle another guy when he isn't... that's not..."

Katara rolled her eyes. "So you'd rather have your little sister handling a naked guy?"

"No! But..."

Aang shrugged, already peeling off his trousers. "I'll do it. I don't mind."

"Thanks, Aang." Katara sniffed disapprovingly at Sokka. "Fine. Go get my medicine bag, then you can go start a fire and cut up some fruit for him. Aang and I will do it, since you're being a baby."

Stripped down to underwear, Katara and Aang entered the chilly water, carrying Zuko between them. He was so scrawny that it was easy to do, and they laid him in the water as soon as it was deep enough to cover most of him. Aang peeled off the filthy loincloth and Katara threw it to the beach, shuddering. She did look - scrawny and filthy or not, he was the first naked man she'd ever seen of *course* she looked, but she blushed and glanced away quickly. It didn't seem right to be taking advantage of him while he was sleeping, or unconscious, and she reached for the soap hastily.

The sting of soap in his cuts did what cold water and a lot of manhandling hadn't, and Zuko's eyes opened all the way, consciousness returning at last. He flailed a bit, splashing, until Katara leaned over him. He stilled then, looking up at her. "Katara?" he said in a husky rasp.

"Hi," she said softly. "It's okay, you're safe now. We're far from the sea now - this is a lake. Well, more of a big pond, really..."

"I'm cold and wet," Zuko said after a second. He sounded... out of it.

"You needed a bath. Worse than anyone I ever met." Aang leaned over, his face upside down relative to Zuko's, and beamed. "I'm Aang!"

"Hi." Zuko still looked puzzled, but he seemed calm enough, so Katara went back to gently washing his arms with soap and a soft cloth (one of the ones she kept for her moon-cycle, so it was washed and boiled to extreme cleanness, and it didn't matter if any new stains got on it). "So... we escaped?"

"Yeah, Sokka and I rescued you! Well, we were rescuing Katara, but you were in the cell too so we brought you." Aang was washing Zuko's hair, his small fingers gentle as they worked through the tangles. "I know the water's kind of cold, but when you're clean you can go sit by the fire and have something to eat."

Zuko swallowed hard. "That... sounds good. Food, I mean." Then he flinched, as Katara cradled his hand in hers and dabbed carefully at his raw, oozing wrist.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I need to clean it up so it can start healing."

Zuko nodded, clenching his teeth and closing his eyes. But it hurt him, she could feel him twitching and tensing under her fingers, and by the time she lowered the wrist into the water again she would have given anything to be able to take the pain away, he'd suffered so much -

The water around her hands started to glow. The glow spread along Zuko's hand and arm, and he made a startled sound, yellow eyes flying open. "What was that?"

"Did it hurt? I don't know what happened, it just..." Katara trailed off, staring at his arm. The terrible raw patches were no longer oozing, but clean and uninfected, and the smaller cuts arranged in lines along his arms were gone completely. "What was that?"

"You're a healer," Aang said matter-of-factly. "It's one of the special gifts of water-bending, the monks told me. None of the other benders can heal."

"Oh." Carefully, Katara curled her fingers around his wrist again and concentrated, willing that rush of energy to come again. It did, and when she released her grip, there was fresh pink skin over the wounds. It was still fragile, there might still be some scarring, but the way Zuko sighed and went bonelessly limp, his head resting on Aang's legs, told her that the pain at least had eased.

"That was great, Katara," Aang said, looking impressed. "Do you think you can do the rest of them?"

"Oh, I'm doing the rest of them," Katara said firmly. "Zuko, tell me if you get too cold, or if it hurts, okay?"

"I will. But... that helped. A lot." He smiled at her, an oddly sweet smile. "Thank you."

She touched his cheek with her wet hand, smiling back at him, and a bruise over his unscarred cheekbone faded a little. "You're welcome. Just relax."

She worked her hands and the glowing water over his other arm and his torso, stopping just past his belly-button with a fiery blush. Yes. Well. She'd.. get back to that. "Aang, is his hair rinsed out?"

"Yup. Want to turn him over so you can do his back?" Aang, thank the Spirits, seemed happily oblivious to where her hands had gone. Nakedness really didn't seem to bother him, and she remembered that he'd grown up travelling all over the world, that he hadn't grown up at the South Pole where you barely ever saw *yourself* naked, let alone anyone else. He certainly didn't have any concerns about stripping down to his skimpy brown undergarment at a moment's notice!

"Yes, thank you. That needs doing." They turned Zuko over, with Zuko's slightly uncoordinated cooperation, and Katara trailed her fingers over thin, scarred shoulders and back, dealing with the few bruises and cuts on his buttocks with only a slight inability to breath properly, and went down to his legs with great relief. His feet were the worst, after the wrist, and she couldn't regrow the several missing toenails, but by the time she finished what she could do, he was bonelessly relaxed and actually looking sleepy. His eyes were closed again as she worked her way up scraped knees - his legs were a little hairy, which startled her - and almost undamaged thighs.

She would have left it there. Wanted to, face already burning at the thought. But there were little cuts and burns all over him, everywhere, and she made herself look.

They were there too. Not many, but one or two were red and inflamed.

Right. Well. Katara took a deep breath, and flattened her hand on top of the water an inch or two above that. Hopefully that was close enough. The glow spread out... weaker now that she'd used it so much, but it came easily enough, easier than her other bending had...

Zuko's eyes snapped open and he gasped, just as Katara did. It had moved! She hadn't known those moved! It had twitched up against her palm and she'd touched it and Zuko sat straight up so fast that he nearly slammed his head into Aang's nose. "Eep!" he yelped, face flaming.

For a few endless seconds all three of them sat in the chilly water, blushing and not looking at each other. Even Aang, apparently, had realized what had entirely accidentally happened. "So," Aang said, clearing his throat. "Uh, we should get you dried off and... stuff. Right, Katara?"

"Right!" Katara made a dash out of the water to grab their worn towel. "Here! Aang, you dry him off. I'll just... just go get Sokka's spare clothes for him to wear. For now."

When Zuko was fully dressed and sitting by the fire, eating sliced plums and the orange berries nobody knew the name of, Katara's blush finally died down. It was silly to be so embarrassed. She was an experienced midwife. Sometimes a healer had to touch things and it didn't mean anything.

She hadn't had to tell him to eat slowly, she'd noticed with approval. Even though his hands shook with eagerness, he was eating with slow deliberation, taking small sips of water between bites. Katara kept an eye on him while she cut up dried meat into small pieces, preparing a rich meat soup that would build him up better than fruit could. Sokka would like it, too, and if she made rice for Aang he'd happily eat it with the fresh fruit...

Zuko set the small plate down, without licking it clean as Katara had half expected him to do. His eyes were completely clear now, and he looked at Aang with a faint frown. "Those are Airbender tattoos," he said suddenly.

"Yeah. I'm an Airbender," Aang said cheerfully. "Well, actually, I'm the Avatar."

Zuko froze, his scarred face suddenly as immobile as a mask. "The Avatar."

"Yup! I was frozen in an iceberg for a hundred years, but then Katara and Sokka found me and now we're going to the North Pole so Katara and I can learn water-bending."

"The Avatar." Zuko doubled over, making a horrible hoarse sound. For a moment Katara thought he was throwing up... but he wasn't, she realized when he lifted his head. He was laughing, a harsh grating laugh. "You're the Avatar."

Aang's cheer shaded rapidly into nervousness. "I... uh... yeah. I'm the Avatar."

"You're the Avatar." Zuko rested his forehead on his knees, his shoulders shaking as the terrible harsh laughter went on, with a hysterical edge to it now. "You're the Avatar. For a hundred years the Fire Lords have hunted you, thinking you were getting older, honing your bending... and... and you were just sitting in an iceberg... and they hunted... we hunted... and I found you by getting caught by pirates and t-tortured... too late..."

Sokka's head snapped up. "We hunted?"

Katara ignored him, kneeling beside Zuko and putting her arms around him, desperately wanting that awful laughter to stop. "Zuko," she said, hugging him gently. "Zuko, look at me. It's going to be all right." She hadn't told them Zuko was Fire Nation. She should have, she'd meant to, but she'd been distracted by how hurt he was...

He looked at her, and his face twisted as the laughter turned into sobs. "It's all too late," he mumbled, turning his face into her shoulder. "It's too late. You should have left me to die."

"No I shouldn't. No, no..." she crooned, stroking his hair. "It's okay, Zuko. It's okay. Shhh..."

He cried into her shoulder, wrenching sobs that she thought he'd been bottling up for a long time. Aang, looking miserable, dragged Sokka away, and Katara held Zuko in her arms, rocking him and murmuring reassurances until at last his sobs faded into silence, and she found he'd fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder.

* * *

Zuko woke before dawn. He was tucked into a fur-lined sleeping-bag, lying on the broad tail of the flying creature... bison, wasn't it? The flying beasts the Air Nomads rode were called bisons.

Air Nomads.

The Avatar.

He laughed weakly, though the hysteria of the day before didn't rise again. Wasn't it just typical of his life that he would find the Avatar after all... now. Now that he was a broken wreck who couldn't take a prisoner if he'd wanted to, and had nowhere to take him if he did.

He'd believed for so long that finding the Avatar would fix everything. Get his honour back, his throne, his life. And in two lines of neat characters, his father had exposed that hope for the meaningless lie it had always been. "I have no son weak enough to be captured by common pirates. Do as you please." He could still see the scroll before his eyes.

Nothing could redeem him in his father's eyes now. And nothing would ever redeem his father in Zuko's eyes. Uncle Iroh had searched every port for him, had had to be physically restrained at the orders of the Fire Lord himself to stop that search.

That was love. That was family.

His father would never give him that, and Zuko no longer wanted it from him.

He wriggled clumsily free of the sleeping-bag, and padded towards the trees on feet bandaged and wrapped in thick, smelly socks. (Sokka's, apparently) Being able to move freely was sheer pleasure, to stand and walk in fresh air, to see the dim light lightening towards day, to empty his bladder with something approaching dignity and wash his hands in cool clear water afterwards.

There were no footsteps to hear, just a sudden breeze and the Avatar drifting down onto the bank beside him. "Hi," he said tentatively, his round child's face grave.

"Hi." Zuko sat back on his heels, lying his hands flat on his thighs. The aches and pains he'd grown almost used to were almost gone, and the lack of pain was a warm pleasure in every fibre of him. "I'm sorry," he added, awkwardly. "For... for my unseemly loss of control yesterday."

"That's okay. People.... people don't always react well to who I am. To me being gone for so long. And you're Fire Nation, which is... complicated." Aang sighed, drifting down as lightly as a feather to sit cross-legged beside Zuko. "One of my best friends lived in the Fire Nation," he said softly. "Kuzon. I miss him."

Zuko looked at him, and realized suddenly that he and the Avatar had something in common. This child - he couldn't be more than twelve - had woken up to find his entire world gone. His friends, his home... everything. "I can't go home either," he said, without really meaning to.

Aang looked at him curiously. "Why?"

"I..." Too many words rose up in Zuko's throat, choking him. He looked away, across the lake and the pink streaks beginning to spread across the sky. "The pirates took me to ransom me," he said, his voice sounding remote in his own ears. "But I was already in disgrace. When my father got a letter from common pirates saying that they had me, that he would have to pay to get me back, he wrote back that he didn't have a son who was weak enough to be captured by pirates. That they could do whatever they wanted with me. So they did." He gestured to the bandage around his healing wrist. "He never wanted me back, I know that now. And when my uncle tried to find me, my father had his ship recalled to the Fire Nation so he couldn't."

"That's awful." The Avatar's face softened with innocent sympathy. "I mean, I don't remember having a father or mother, but Katara and Sokka have told me about theirs. And I had a guardian, Monk Gyatso." He looked out at the sunrise too. "I can't imagine how it would feel if he didn't want me."

"No. You can't. Be glad you can't." Zuko took a cleansing breath, and then another. "You're going to overthrow the Fire Lord, aren't you?"

"I guess I have to." Aang sounded troubled. "Avatar Roku came to me and told me that I had to stop him, anyway. Before the end of summer. But I don't even know water-bending yet, and after that I need to find someone to teach me earth-bending, and fire-bending... how am I going to find someone who wants to teach me fire-bending? And I only have until summer!"

Zuko let out the breath, looking out at the sunrise. "I can teach you fire-bending," he said, feeling oddly serene. "The basics, at least."

"You can? Really?" Aang hopped up into the air, suddenly merry. "Great! That's a big relief! Can we start now?"

"Not yet. I have to get my strength back, first. But I'll teach you." Zuko smiled a little. "And I'll help you."

"That's great! Uh... why?" Aang frowned. "Aren't you... uh.... wouldn't that kind of be bad? For someone from the Fire Nation to help me?"

"If he didn't want me to help the Avatar to overthrow him," Zuko said, serenity fading into an almost savage satisfaction, "my father should have paid my ransom." He stood up, ignoring Aang's stunned look. "I spent sixteen years serving my father loyally, and all it got me was a cell and two lines saying I wasn't worth anything to him. You and Katara rescued me and healed me, when you knew I was your enemy, when you owed me nothing. I... owe you something for that."

That felt right. He thought his Uncle would understand that, see why it was the honourable course.

And it meant staying with the Avatar. With Katara.

She'd held him, when he was too weak to hold the tears back any longer. She'd cradled him, stroked his hair and murmured soothing words, and he hadn't felt so comforted since he'd been little and in his mother's arms. But Katara wasn't his mother.... she was a girl, pretty and gentle and brave, whose touch made his pulse leap, whose soft voice and hands had soothed away physical and emotional pain when he'd thought nothing ever could.

(His cheeks warmed, remembering what else her soft hand had soothed. Accidentally, of course, but he would never forget that.)

His father didn't give a damn about him. His uncle did, but his father had separated them. Katara.... might. And she had saved his life, healed him... he owed her his life, and more. For her, he would aid the Avatar. For her, he would do anything.

"Okay," Aang said softly, and he smiled up at Zuko, holding out his hand. "Welcome aboard."

Zuko clasped the small hand, returning the smile wryly. "Thank you. So... how long is it until breakfast?"

"Whenever Katara wakes up, usually. But we have some fruit left." Aang beamed. "Let's go get some."

* * *

Katara had slept curled up on Appa's neck with the blanket and her parka to keep her warm. Zuko had needed her sleeping bag much more than she had, and Appa didn't mind how many of them slept on him. Aang said it reminded him of home, where baby bison would sleep on their parents.

For a change she found the fire bright and water heating in a pot, Zuko sitting beside it and staring into the flames with a thoughtful expression. He looked up and smiled at her when she approached, and Katara's heart tugged again at the odd sweetness of that smile. "Good morning. Aang said you usually make breakfast." He looked at the fire. "I don't know how to cook, but I thought a fire and hot water would be a start."

"It is. Thank you." A hot breakfast sounded good, after their rough day yesterday. Katara smiled at him, sitting down beside him. There was soup from last night, and she could cook porridge with fruit... that was something they'd only just discovered, and she and Sokka loved it even more than Aang did. "How are you?" After he'd cried himself to sleep, she'd barely been able to rouse him enough to swallow some soup and water before he passed out again.

"Better." He didn't look at her, his unscarred cheek going a little pink, but his fingers brushed hers for a moment as their hands rested beside them. "Thank you."

Boys were always embarrassed about crying - except Aang, for some reason. She smiled at him. "It's okay. Thank you for making me feel better... you know. Back there."

He looked at her, surprised. "I did?"

"Yeah. It's... you tried to help. And it's easier to be brave when there's someone else there, sometimes." She started digging in the packs, looking for the bag of meal. "Sokka... Sokka's going to ask you a lot of questions when he wakes up," she added reluctantly. "I hadn't told him you were Fire Nation. Now that he knows, he's... the Fire Nation attacked our village a lot of times. Our mother died in one of those raids."

"I'm sorry," Zuko said softly, sounding like he meant it. "I lost mine when I was ten. I... think the Fire Lord had something to do with it. She just disappeared, and nobody ever dared to ask where she'd gone."

Katara blinked. "That's awful," she said softly. Losing her mother had been awful, the worst thing that had ever happened to her... but she couldn't imagine what it would be like to have her just vanish, to never even know... "Why would he do that?"

Zuko shrugged. "Because he had something to gain, I suppose. That's the only reason my father ever does anything."

Katara dropped the bag, spilling some of the meal. "Your what?"

"The Fire Lord is my father. Was, I suppose. He disowned me." Zuko shrugged, adding a stick to the fire. "The pirates took me for ransom, but he wouldn't pay. He thinks I'm weak, and a waste of time."

Katara tried to imagine her own father knowing that pirates had taken her, and not doing everything he could to find her. It was just... she couldn't even imagine it. "Zuko, that's... how could he?"

Zuko shrugged again, lifting a hand to touch his scarred cheek. "He gave me this when I was thirteen, because he thought me refusing to fight a duel with the Fire Lord - and my own father - made me weak. He hasn't thought much of me since then."

Katara's eyes filled with tears. Her throat was too tight for words, but she leaned over and hugged him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder. It was bad enough that the pirates had tortured him, but this was so much worse...

His arms went around her, holding her a little awkwardly, as if he wasn't quite sure how to do it. "I'm all right, Katara," he murmured, one hand coming up to pat her hair gently. "I told Aang already. He said I could join you, and when he's ready I'll teach him fire-bending. I'm not a master, but I can give him a solid grounding in the basics. My uncle was a big believer in mastering the basics."

Katara snuffled, holding on tightly. "That's... good. I'm glad you're coming with us. I mean, I wasn't going to let you out of my sight anyway, but at least I won't have to argue with you about it."

He leaned back to look down at her, and the urge to cry faded when she realized how close his face was to hers, and how those golden eyes gazing into hers made her feel all bashful and shivery, somehow. "You weren't going to let me out of your sight?" His voice sounded a little huskier than before, for some reason.

"No, of course not." She pulled away, blushing, and tried to hide it by fussing with her cooking pots. "I'm your healer. I'm not going to go off and leave you alone in your condition."

"Oh. Well... good." His face was a little pink too, she saw when she peeked at him over a pot. "I'm... glad you don't want to leave me behind. I don't have any ties left to the Fire Nation," he added, sounding more sure about that. "At least, only one... and I think my uncle would understand. He doesn't like the war, either. So you don't need to worry about my loyalties being conflicted. I've been talking to Aang, and I don't think he means the Fire Nation any harm - he just thinks the war should stop."

Katara nodded. "It won't be easy," she said quietly. "We all know that. But it has to stop, before what's left of the world tears itself apart. You... you think that too?" Maybe it was stupid to just believe him - but after he'd cried into her shoulder and clung to her, after his battered body had relaxed under her hands as she healed him, she did trust him.

He smiled at her. "You saved my life," he said simply. "You gave me something to live for again. I'd believe that the moon was made of koala-sheep if you told me to."

Katara giggled, her face burning and her stomach fluttering with a strange, pleasant sort of embarrassment. "Oh. Well. Uh. I don't know what that is, but I'm pretty sure the moon isn't made of them. Uhm. But that's good. Uh... here." She pushed a knife and her little square of board at him. "Will you cut up those dried peachicots?"

Zuko eyed the tools a little nervously. "Uh... all right. How?" He flushed. "I mean, I know how to use a knife! But how, uh, small?"

"About this big." Katara held her fingers a little apart. "I'll just, uh, I'll just go get some more water. I'll be right back. From the lake over there." She sounded so stupid all of a sudden! Why?

"Okay." He smiled again, looking unreasonably handsome despite the scar. "I'll, uh, I'll be here."

For some reason, when she got to the lake, Katara looked over her shoulder to see what he was doing. He was watching her, and she hastily turned back to the water, wondering if it was silly to be so pleased that he'd watched her go. Silly or not.... she was.

And she was very glad she'd stolen that stupid water-bending scroll, even if they hadn't had it for long. If she hadn't, they never would have found Zuko. Maybe it was all meant to be.