Full Summary

Nearly three years have passed since the Hundred Year War ended. Due to increasing political pressures, Zuko chooses Mai, leaving Katara heartsick and wounded. In a moment of lovelorn recklessness, she goes to the one person who might help her blackmail Zuko and compel him back to her side: Ozai.

But Ozai's help comes with a price. Parched with the thirst for vengeance, he has dreamed of nothing more than retribution on the avatar for what he took away from him. Of course, in prison those dreams would ever remain dreams, and even then, it could only be possible with the help of a waterbender... One that so fortuitously has just shown up on a silver platter.

Katara's plan goes horribly awry and careens her toward a far different path, one that is fraught with untold dangers. Along the way, she discovers there is more to Ozai beneath his hard shell of armor and that maybe, just maybe, his heart of stone had once ached and bled. As a natural healer, she is drawn to broken people; her deepest instinct, to save those who are suffering.

But trying to save a man at war with himself is its own kind of violence.

.

.

Night still hid the withering dawn but a touch of pale light rimmed the skyline of Caldera City.

Katara paced along the path that snaked out from the capitol of the Fire Nation into a span of trees that blanketed the southern border of the city. She must have been waiting for hours, as night slowly died to morning, the hooded cloak concealing her face in complete darkness like a banshee. Maybe he wasn't going to come, she thought. It would hardly surprise her, after everything. She sighed, hugging her arms around her waist, half hoping, half fearing what it might mean if he did come. What it would mean if he didn't.

The scuff of a shoe and faint footsteps crunching on the dirt path, and Katara could see the vague shape of someone materializing from the shadows. Her breath caught in her throat as equal measures of desire and dread pulsed through her like an electric shock. The odds were small that it could be anyone else at this time of night – er, morning –, but if it were an off-duty guard or councilman out for a very early walk…? If she were discovered, cloaked and waiting in secret at the edge of the city, they wouldn't need to guess at her reason for being here. Or who she waited for. It had been made very clear what would happen if they were found out again.

As the shape grew closer, his face caught in slants of light where it was exposed beneath his hood, and Katara released a silent breath. The angle of his jaw, where she had peppered long kisses in hidden nights of passion. The fair skin that had brushed against hers, smooth as silk, porcelain contrasting daringly against mocha as their bodies had met, pulse to pulse. She would know him anywhere. But if that left any doubt, the tip of the scar peeking out from under his covering betrayed any misgivings she might have had.

She allowed a faint smile to perch on her lips as she took in a shallow breath and stepped toward him.

"Zuko," she whispered, almost too softly for him to hear. "I was starting to think you wouldn't come." He was silent as he came to stand before her now and his scent carried in the air between them, spiced and warm and bright. "We haven't been able to be alone in so long, I had to see you and I wanted to talk–"

"How many people did you tell?"

Katara blinked, the smile melting off her face. "What? Why?"

"I was followed," Zuko said brusquely. "I think I managed to lose them, but whoever it was they saw me leave. So I'm asking you again. How many people did you tell?"

"Wh– No one." Her eyes flitted away briefly as it came rushing back to her. "Well, I may have told Sokka but he would never–"

"The walls have ears, Katara. You should know that by now. Speaking of it to anyone could be as good as exposing us to the entire royal palace."

Her shoulders sagged as her lips worked, trying to find the words. In the end all she could choke out was, "I'm sorry."

A moment passed between them, long and suffocating. "We can't do this anymore. I can't do this anymore. I'm watched too closely. Our little trysts are hardly a secret, and my guards will go to great lengths to remove any threat to my ability to lead as Fire Lord." He paused to let his meaning sink in. "There's too much on the line. Reputation, political obligations. Upholding the fragile peace that, by some miracle, we've maintained so far. There are many in the Fire Nation who still align with my father and would jump at the first chance to take down his usurper." Zuko sighed deeply. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his feet before his eyes found hers again. "I'm sorry, Katara." His voice was strained and tired. "I do love you. But I have to marry Mai, for the good of my people." He kept his hands in his pockets as he spoke, his posture closed. And with it closed her heart. "I respect you far too much to let you carry on as my harlot. We have to end this."

Her jaw went slack. His harlot? Was that what she was to him?

The hope she had fostered was now ashes at her feet, her stomach a lead weight, hard and heavy. "I– I thought we talked about this. Our love could be good for the Fire Nation, for the world. Fire and Water coming together in mutual love and respect – we would be a symbol of the peace we've promised."

"I wish it were that simple. But it's not." He paced slowly, hands in his pockets, fragments of washed-out shadow sweeping over his face in turns. It was approaching dawn now and they didn't have much time left.

Hot tears were brimming in her eyes and a wave of anger was rising to compete with the pain. "If you really wanted to make this work, you would. You don't have to marry Mai. You're choosing her." In a scratchy half-whisper, the ragged words choked out.

"Katara, I'm not–" The joyful trill of a songbird in the treetops heralded the breach of morning. Through the canopy of leaves, pale light leaked onto the beaten path at their feet. "I have to go. The servants have probably already noticed I'm gone." His voice was thick with resignation. He turned away and then stopped, looking over his shoulder, his honey-gold eyes fixing on hers one last time. "Goodbye." And then she watched him slip back down the path and shrink from view, from her life, until he became part of the landscape and was gone.

Katara stood, suffocating in the gulf of nothingness where Zuko had been moments ago. His words left a scar on her heart.

He chose her.

He chose her.

Bitterness pumped its white-hot venom through her veins. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to be the one discarded. He loved her, he said he did. He couldn't possibly see himself bound to that stale, lifeless excuse for a woman. Surely he only made the choice to protect his country, to protect her. Since joining Aang, he had become selfless, sacrificing so much for the greater good that his judgment had become clouded. His actions now must stem from something deeper there. But how wrong he was this time, he had to see that.

Her thoughts were spinning now. What if she could show him that? She could get him back. Whatever it took, there was no obstacle she was unwilling to forge if it meant they could be together again. Not in secret, as they had been since his coronation as Fire Lord, but openly and unashamed.

But she knew Zuko. Oh, she knew him. Once his mind was made up, wild horses couldn't drag him from it. What would it take? Persuasion? Manipulation?

Blackmail…?

And just like that, her thoughts avalanched into a larger idea. His reputation was on the line, he'd said. Well, maybe he needed a little shake to his reputation to ground him, to remind him that it isn't everything. To show him that she'd stand by him through anything.

Out of her anguish, a plan was blooming. Almost a living, breathing thing, this idea, it grew so quickly, so easily.

And no amount of wild horses would get in her way.