Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the characters created and trademarked by Byran Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino in the Avatar: The Last Airbender universe. They belong to their respected owners. I am not making any money off of this story. Please do not use any of the written work as shown below without my written permission.

Warnings: Coarse language, suggestive themes, mentions of substance abuse

Enjoy :)

"He who blows on the fire will get sparks in his eyes."

German Proverb

His Eyes

.

.

She had always been fascinated by a person's eyes. In fact, she was willing to argue that eyes were the most beautiful part of a person. Without eyes, you were incomplete.

Whether sensitive, blind or scarred, eyes are the door to the soul. They reflect every flicker of life and every feeling with ferocity. Even the ever stoic Mai and amaurotic Toph had beauty in their eyes. As hidden as these glimmers were, they existed. They were there, screaming for people to delve in deeper to find them. Such eyes are simple shy with hidden jewels of the soul. In order to find them, all you have to do is look.

If one were to learn how to listen to the symphony of the eyes, they would be able to read the music of the soul faster then a blink.

If one were to learn how to control the movement of their soul through the eye, they could be unstoppable. Not easily manipulated and strong enough to hold their ground, they would gain the ability to lie flawlessly.

Katara considered herself to be quite talented when it came to this ancient art of looking and successfully finding an individual's true spirit. It was something that she had learned from a young age when times were rough and the people began to harden under the harsh and bitter grip of sorrow. She knew when the adults were lying about the food shortages after the raids. She could see the pain in her father's eyes when he smiled and assured her that everything was alright. She could see the guilt in her Gran Gran's eyes when she would comfort her and tell her fairy tales of the world becoming a better place when really, it only became worse.

It could always be seen in the texture, the change, and the colour.

Usually, she wouldn't voice these opinions; the true faces behind each and every mask she encountered. It wasn't her place to judge people and their destinies. After all, her Gran Gran had often spun tales of the spirits shaded with obscure proverbs concerning fate always being in ones own hands, and how it was up to the person to change what happened through the help of the spirits. Katara was no spirit.

Sometimes, she would vocalize these truths - only when it would lead to a positive outcome and scarcely, when it would lead to a negative consequence. Sometimes, she would refuse to see the truth of the soul shine as brightly as the sun through the eyes.

Always, for her own selfish reasons.

In Jet, the reason had been allurement.

He was a charismatic boy her age who took care of himself and others in the middle of the woods and fought for his beliefs. With Sokka's immediate dislike, the temptation had grown. He was bad, beautiful, and dangerous. His seductiveness was enough to enchant her and his similarities only caused her desires to grow. They were a like in that, having to take care of others with goals and aspirations of their own. He fought for what he believed was right and they had a common goal. Even better, was that he was charming – addictive even. It was… enchanting to see someone like her do whatever he could to make his difference in the world.

However, despite the nobility in his heart, Jet's actions had been wrong. His hazel eyes were shredded and poisoned with his grief. She would have liked to think that once those tortured orbs were calm and smooth, like almonds and other nuts rather then the now disfigured and harsh bark, as he challenged his revenge to anyone in the Fire Nation, including the innocents. She saw it in his eyes… the suffering, the pain. She knew that he would do evil. Yet, that allure was enough for her to be selfish. She ignored Sokka's warnings in order to be in his favour, to have a boyfriend her age – someone she liked who actually liked her back. She had been selfish to see the good in his heart and the good that he could have done for her.

In Hama, it had been vivacity.

The euphoria she had felt to meet an actual waterbender from the South Pole had been remarkable. It had been as if a part of her soul, a part of her culture, a part of her family had been returned to her. She felt alive again to meet such a powerful waterbender from the South with such vigor like her own, despite the malicious intent in her eyes. It was so easy to tell… the sweet smile masking away the ice in her eyes. Ice was hard and unforgivable. There was something off about Hama. She ignored it, the joy overwhelming her to a point where she wanted to believe that Hama was good.

She had been right all along and she knew she would have been. She could have stopped this long before it got out of hand. If only, she had ignored the selfish need of zeal for her culture.

In Zuko, it had been deploration.

She had become so bitter after his betrayal in Ba Sing Se, so disappointed by his sudden change, and so heartbroken to see him run off to his sister in search of honour. She had been in anguish for months, unable to forgive herself for trusting him so easily – so deeply that she had almost used the spirit water on him. When he returned with a new purpose, she ignored the way his fire had humbled and how regret brimmed the edges. She refused to see that he had changed for good to protect herself from being hurt by him again. She would be selfish to hurt him for hurting her.

So he set out to prove her wrong, to show her that despite her daily assault, he would throw everything away to please her. After a while, she realized he was harder to read than she realized. He was a complex man with a butchered childhood and a confusion that all teenagers go through. It had been her bitterness that made her ignorant to these facts and feelings. Prince Zuko, was a man like none she had ever met before.

He was not simply confused like Jet or simply bitter like Hama. His rage and pain was ever changing in those shape shifting eyes – not looking to destroy, but to please in ways that he did not understand were wrong. He had still been trying to find himself. He was not like Jet, with eyes that softened and sharpened or Hama's, which only saw in black and white.

Zuko's eyes had fascinated her from the very start. He, whose eyes would dance with the very same fire of his soul. Always stirring, always fluctuating.

They would swirl and crackle, bursting into scorching flames of vehemence before softening into the dim, lightly flaring heat of utter calm.

The newly appointed Fire Lord was just as much a burning blaze as the element within him. It wasn't something that lived within him, but rather, created his entire persona. He flared his fire through those gorgeous eyes with honour; unafraid to show what he truly thought and unafraid to show who he truly was. Everything could be read in those every changing, fiery eyes. What she admired the most, was that he wouldn't want it to be any different.

As Fire Lady herself, Katara couldn't help but appreciate that slowly, she was beginning to understand the fire in his eyes and the fire that had made Zuko the man he is today.

i. Slothful

.

When Zuko's eyes began to relax and mellow out into a yellow ocher, she knew that he was either going to become extremely lazy, or extremely sarcastic. They would soften considerably, swirling like a thick and creamy paint – ready to either unwind, and go with the flow of the brush (as shocking as that sounded), or come up with multiple phrases in order to enrage any of them for his own entertainment.

Over the years she began to realize that if his eyes would smooth out completely, then they would enjoy a lazy day together. Zuko would let out his shaggy hair from the stiff top knot and lounge in loose silk shirts and baggy pants. He would often be found reading in the palace's library while she scoured the enriched shelves for water-bending scrolls. They would drink tea with Uncle Iroh if he was in town (and sometimes play Pai Sho when the General was able to coax Zuko into it), lounging around the gardens, or enjoying the sunset from wherever their afternoon walk would take them.

Depending on the deepness of the rich yellow would determine just how lazy he was.

If they would glaze over to become deep and outstanding, he would be the epitome of a prince. He wouldn't even lift a finger – creating a field day for his many servants. (Those were also the days when the Fire Lord would generously and heavily tip all of them for their services).

When he was going to be sarcastic (in one of his many moods, as she like to call it), his eyes still retained that creamy softness but possessed a sharpened outer ring. It was to show that he was edgy and everything had an underlying bite to his mocking drawl. The servants would giggle to one another as their Fire Lord dismissed the nobles and Generals with sharp words that only left their mouths agape.

Then, when some would growl; insulted and shocked, he would smirk in their directions, blasting them back with yet another one of his words – sharpened to perfection like the Dao swords he treasured so much.

Of course, their friends were no exception to his majesty's taunt. Aang would blow up in frustration, Toph and him would have a duel of words (both either extremely insulted or extremely amused with the banters) and Sokka would become a personal theater act as he attempted to get back at his best friend.

He found everything overly amusing and extremely boring – hence the little entertainment game he constructed for himself. When she would stare at his lazy smirk, Katara couldn't help but wonder if Mai had rubbed off on him more then he'd like to admit.

ii. Sickly Sweet

.

The days when Fire Lord Zuko's eyes turned into a thick, sticky honey, were the days she dreaded the most. He would become sweet - but not in the way that you would think he would be sweet. No, that sacchariferous honey was diseased as he manipulated everyone around him with his charm set to overload and his wit perfected.

And he said that Azula was completely different from him. Yeah right…

Unlike Azula, however, it was never to harm anyone but rather, to erase the many insecurities hidden deep with him. The attention he received was his ego boost. She understood that it was just for show and to entertain guests or to get a bill passed or even, just to get some better service. She understood that it made him feel better about the scar marring half of his face.

It didn't mean she approved of it.

No one could resist his allure when he wished for it to work. Just one look in the thick and luscious honey coloured eyes and all the men and women in the room would melt at the sight. He had even made it work on Toph of all people. It made everyone go into heats of desire for him… Especially her and that smug bastard knew it too.

When he was in such a manipulative and simply, sweet to the point of becoming sickly moods, he'd always use it against her.

She could never resist him when they spared – and he'd use his stunning looks to his advantage and win. Then, when she would be upset with him, he would never apologize on those rare days. He'd flirt, becoming a womanizer as that sinful and husky voice causing all the women of the Fire Nation to flock him just to taste the sugary syrup that his eyes offered to them with whispered promises of more.

He did it on purpose just to rile her up even further so then, late at night when the sun would go down and the buzz and commotion of the Capitol City would settle, he would work his enchantment on her.

He'd smooth it over, using her anger from the day and the strength of the moon rushing through her veins to boost the vigour into what would result in the most mind blowing of fornications.

Those nights were anything but sweet.

They would be raw and animalistic, her frustration working against his ego, liquid fire against liquid ice, and they would duel all night long.

By the ends of those nights, when the early morning sun would begin to rise, he'd smile at her like poisoned honey. Then, she would realize, that just like everyone else that day, she had become another fly caught and killed in the sticky trap of his eyes.

iii. Fury

.

Days and moments that were common were when Fire Lord Zuko – proud, calm, and kind – would revert back into Crown Prince Zuko – arrogant, enraged, and rude.

His eyes would literally crust over, sharp and jagged with obscure colours of dirty rusts and fleeting gold. They battled for dominance, always greatly influenced by his mood and the type of anger he was feeling.

There would often be smoke escaping from his nostrils, sparks flying as he exhaled angrily. When he was in a rage, it would be small bursts of fire – an unconscious impulse that could grow until fire would escape his fists and he'd end up scorching walls, demolishing furniture, and burning anything nearby.

If he was angry at meetings gone wrong, being underestimated again, or just having a bad day with advisors, he would train by himself in the palace gardens. She would always be near by in the pond, practicing her water bending whilst making sure he didn't burn down his most sacred place.

It was a much better alternative to when one of the generals challenged the new Fire Lord to an Agni Kai.

They had been defeated within a minute of the battle starting, Zuko being so blinded by rage that he had almost set the palace on fire just from his outburst.

Rest assured, no longer did anyone question the strength of their Fire Lord let alone challenge him to Agni Kai.

Sometimes she would provoke him on those days, the deteriorating metal shards of his eyes wining him over as they would engage in a deadly dance together. He would release out all his fire and she would be able to handle it. It was the easiest way for him to let out all his anger without hurting his citizens. It was also a way for them to test each others strength; a challenge of course to see if they could still live up to their ranks as 'masters'.

When he was angry at unfortunate situations, he became stubbornly cynical. He's always been cynical, but on these particular days it was too much to handle. He growled sparks at everything, eyes narrowed into deadly slits as he barked orders at his scurrying servants, each of them afraid that his disparagement would evolve into something much more lethal if he was not to be pacified soon.

He'd ignore her on those days too. He'd brush everything off and when she finally got him to stop ignoring her, he'd argue with her to astronomical levels as the decaying rust in his eyes sparkled dangerously with a ruby red meant for wrath.

Even if he did leave the palace on those days, running around the capitol at night, she new he would always come back once he cooled down.

He just needed to repair and replace the damaged rust in order for his engine to start functioning normally again.

iv. Intoxication

.

Although it seemed humorous, and down right impossible, to see an uptight, brooding guy like Zuko 'let loose' it was possible… under certain circumstances.

It was a particular phenomenon only to be witnessed when the gAang would get together at the esteemed Fire Lord's royal palace. More specifically, this strange occurance could be observed whenever those celebrations were executed 'Fire Nation Style'.

These parties would always be overly lavished, The Fire Lord using his status in order to deliver the best of dishes adequate to their cultural tastes; servants bringing out bottle after bottle of rice wine and the ever so famous fire whiskey that the Fire Nation was so known for.

While everyone would drink their wine, it was surprisingly Sokka who would break out the whiskey first, claiming that he was man enough to handle anything the Fire Nation threw at him. Zuko would always smirk in response, preferring to indulge in embroidered hookahs and in return coaxing Sokka and Toph into smoking Fire Nation spices and herbs that would char their throats.

He found it beyond relaxing, if the blend was right.

She found it a waste of time with the headache that came after the vicious coughing. Also, if Toph was feeling mischievous, she would add cactus juice into the water, causing both the highly respected Fire Lord and Chief of the South Pole to smoke themselves silly with hallucinations and giggles galore.

Sokka, although usually intrigued by the hookah as he, by some miracle enjoyed 'breathing like a jerkbender', usually preferred the long tribal pipe that Chief Arnook had given to him as a gift. It was one of the safer options when it came to Toph and her sudden liking to spiking everything with the cactus juice.

Also, it was always Aang's personal mission to get Sokka drunk as it was Zuko's to keep him relatively sober for all of their sakes. A drunken and high Sokka was not a fun Sokka to be around. However, once Sokka became intoxicated, Zuko would follow in suit shortly afterward.

His eyes would slowly shift into the very same burning liqueur he was drinking. Constantly spinning, the amber colour would be richly delirious as it sloshed along the smoky outer edge of his iris', parallel to the whiskey in his own glass.

Even though she knew how out of hand things could get when both of them were drunk, knowing that it would end with minor destruction of the palace, Sokka throwing up everywhere, a major mess, insane shenanigans and massive headaches in the morning, she sometimes didn't mind seeing him in this hazed state of mind.

It was hilarious to watch as he and Sokka would attempt to create elaborate plans of kidnapping spirits and riding Unagi in their inebriated states. What was even more ludicrous was that they were completely serious in their slurred discussions, barley even making sense, if there was any to begin with.

Nonetheless, despite not being too fond of drinking themselves silly, she remembered that it wasn't an every day occurance. It was also a good break for all of them with their exhausting and time consuming lives. It was a time when they could all become teenagers again, because despite the fact that they were just in their mid twenties meant nothing with the amount of work on their plates.

Besides, whenever she would rant to Iroh about his nephew's senseless antics, he never failed to respond with one of his many proverbs.

'A drunken man's words are a sober man's thoughts'.

She liked to believe in that proverb.

Since nothing would ever beat seeing Zuko, (uptight, brooding, always taking things too seriously) laughing, enjoying, and living. It gave her hope that despite his cold public demeanor and usually sleepless nights, he was happy. He was happy and capable of allowing himself to let go in these moments. To act his age, have fun, and for once just stop caring.

It was intoxicating to stare into those tipsy and vivacious orbs, moving as freely as water with a lithe and vibrant colour that was more delicious then fire whiskey itself.

More so, it was a relief to see those eyes twinkling like shining alcohol as it comforted her…despite him raving about her beauty being compared to that of fire lilies mixed with elephant koi fish.

Even if in those moments she'd rather freeze him upside down then give into his almost leering gaze, she'd kiss him – knowing that with the amount of alcohol he'd consumed tonight, it was easy for her to become slightly boozed as well just from that kiss.

It was fine. Seeing Zuko loosen up was enough reason for her to loosen up as well.

v. Tranquility

.

Something she had never expected to witness was those usually sharp and bright eyes darken into that of a soft hazel.

His breath would even out, a soft smile ghosting his hard features as he used a neutral tone. The usual gold of his eyes would disperse from the middle out, browning into a sun-kissed bronze. He looked tranquil; finally at peace with everything that had happened. It was true proof of his transformation into what would be known as Fire Lord.

Even more surprising, was the fact that the newly acquired shade of mixed browns was a common occurrence for the public eye as well as the fact that this metamorphism of his irises was the only way to truly tell that Zuko was calm.

His people knew him by those knowledgeable auburn eyes that were always kind, always protecting, and always looking for the best interest of not only the Fire Nation, but its people as well. With these eyes he instilled hope within each and every one of them, showing that despite his harsh and strict nature, he was capable of being a loving monarchy as well as a proficient ruler.

With this soft mixture of browns he was unstoppable. Meetings would be productive, documents signed, no assassination or riot attempts, and he'd even go to sleep that night at a respectable time (before three am).

It was always enthralling to be able to witness these eyes – mostly because she never saw them when they were alone. It was a special treat for his subjects that not even she – his wife – would have the privilege of seeing. Those eyes reflected his adoration for his nation and devotion for his subjects. They would reflect a mood of diplomacy and grace that was reserved for Fire Lord Zuko and the Fire Nation.

She never did mind. After all the people of the Fire Nation have gone through, they deserved a leader who wanted to do good for them and who cared about them unconditionally.

vi. Passion

.

It was no secret that Zuko was a passionate man.

Once he set his mind to something, he was unstopbale - more powerful than Sozin's comet with a heart as great as the world.

Everything and anything he did was done not only with pride and honesty, but also with a passion unlike any other. He cared and despite some of the wrong things he had done in life, he had done them with a pure mind – doing what he believed was right with all the strength of the spirits. He would put out not ninty, not a hundred, but a two-hundred percent effort in everything he did. The consequences or limitations of the human body would be damned in his mind.

She new that when he would begin to get fired up as soon as that infamous smirk started to crawl up his face and his eyes would dissolve into molten gold.

They were eyes of true royalty, of true success, and of power.

It was when they first met that she had been introduced to those lovely, luciously gold eyes. With those perfect orbs he taunted her against the tree, fought against her in the North Pole, and shared with her in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se. Even now, after so many years, she begins to think that since the very first moment igneous gold lava met the iciness of the ocean, she's been subjagated by the most complex many she had ever met in the years of her life.

It was those briliantly, exuberant gold eyes that were reserved especially for her.

They were hypnotic and beyond alluring as they were cable of portraying all emotions without the difference of the colour. When in her presence, his eyes didn't need to turn into all those different and wonderful shades that everyone else was so familiar with. All Katara needed was his passion; his heart, and she would be able to open the door to his soul effortlessly. She was always welcome into his most precious and vulnerable secret.

She was the keeper of his soul and he knew it just as much as she did - those metamorphosing eyes being the crown jewel of his entire being.

And they were her greatest treasure.

She would give up everything: her position as Fire Lady, her high status as an ambassador, her very own life if it meant they she would be able to stare into the very core of Zuko's fire every single day for the rest of her life.

His passion would be all she needed to survive.

A/N: This is the first time I have ever writen anything for A:tla so I hope that anyone who's gotten to the end of this story enjoyed it :)

Also, there should be a line above Tranquility... but alas, is being a troll and won't let me no matter how many times I try x.x