Time heals wounds (but leaves scars)

Takes places between the Southern Raiders and the four-part finale

14.

She's fourteen (almost fifteen, though) when she ducks from a blazing fireball and sends a wave crashing down on the former Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. Water freezes at her will as she glides towards the soaked boy, and lands on him, blasting another jet of ice cold water to his chest for good measure.

She sits on his stomach with a devious, satisfied glint in her eyes and leans forward, palms on the ground locking his head in place. "Say it."

He grunts his refusal, and raises a hand to wipe away the water from his eyes. (Stupid boy forgot he could just steam it off. She knocks his hand away as punishment).

"Say. It."

He shakes his head in exasperation, but gives in with a sigh. "You win, formidable Master Waterbender Katara of the Southern Water Tribe."

She blinks. "Well, yes. Obviously. But that's not what I was talking about." She leans in closer and flings her hair in his face. She still smells the smoke. "Say it."

"Oh, that. Um. Right." Up close, she sees drops of sweat running down the bridge of his nose. His eyes flicker from hers to the tips of her singed hair; his own dark bangs, drenched with sweat and water, stick haphazardly to his forehead. "Sorry for setting your hair on fire with an adapted waterbending form." He's trying to conceal it, but there is no mistaking the slight smugness in his voice.

It was pretty impressive. Almost as impressive as her water punches yesterday.

She glowers for a second before leaning back and crossing her arms. "I forgive you."

It takes about half a second for the humor to vanish from his eyes, and Katara realizes her mistake.

Too soon. For the love of Tui, Katara- think before you talk!

"Zuko-"she starts, but he's already grabbing her wrists and twists so she's now the one pressed against the soft grass.

Water drips from his hair onto her temples, but she doesn't find it in herself to care. Not when he's staring at her like this. He opens his mouth to say something, amber eyes burning with something desperate- pleading- before dropping his head with a sigh. His shoulders sag, defeat etched in every movement as he gets to his feet.

He extends his hand, refusing to meet her eyes. Biting her lip, she grabs it to hoist herself up. "Thanks," she mumbles. "Um, rematch tomorrow? As usual?" She hopes he catches the unpronounced apology.

His gaze flickers to hers warily. "Yeah," he concedes. "Okay."

"Oi, Sparky! Hands off the baby sister!"

Sokka and Aang emerge from a couple of berry bushes, picking loose branches from their clothes. She feels Zuko's hand slip from her grasp as he takes a step back.

An eyeroll and a "I'm going to get cleaned up," is the response her brother gets, before the firebender spins around and heads back to his family house. She doesn't miss the muttered "and she's not a baby." She can't explain the flush she feels creeping up her neck.

"That was amazing, Katara!" Aang's eyes are wide with admiration. "It's really awesome to watch you guys spar." He tapes his chin pensively, staring at Zuko's receding form. "He's going to have to show me some of those moves during our training later."

Sokka plucks a berry from the bush and hands it to her. "So, who won this time?"

She pops the berry in her mouth and chews. She usually enjoys the burst of flavors. Right then, however, she finds no pleasure in tasting the sweet fruit. Her reply is flat. "I did."

It doesn't feel like a victory.