Okay yes! This! but also imagine The crystal catacombs scene!
Zuko was shocked by such an offer. Never in his life did he imagine he could be free of his mark of shame. But there he was, in a cave with the girl he was born to hate, offering her healing abilities and spirit water to erase his pain and its memory.
She claimed she was waiting to use it for “something important.” Was he important? How could he- a boy he swore she hated- be considered important to her. She also offered to heal uncle. His mind chided him.
That was true, and there seemed to be no malice in her offer; there never was with Katara. His whole life, he was convinced kindness came with expectation for something in return- a favor, payment in some form. Yet the waterbender was only asking was for his trust... could he give that to her?
Her eyes looked at him expectantly but not rushed; they were filled with patience and understanding. How could she understand? Slowly he met her gaze and nodded his head slightly in consent. He knew she would have to touch his scar. But somehow, that did not scare him as he thought it might- should.
Slowly her hand reached for his face; his eyes fluttered shut but not before noticing something; her hands were scarred, burns. He furrowed his brow in confusion. Why didn’t she use the water for herself?
All thoughts fled his mind as her hand met his face. It was warm yet soothing in the way water soothes a dry throat. His mind was blank save for the telltale smoothness that only came from healed burned flesh. His eyes started to prickle.
Slowly Zuko reached up and gently cupped her hands in his. He felt her stiffen but did not release his hold. Instead, he moved his face slightly to kiss the hand holding his shame. He opened his eyes.
“Why didn’t you use the spirit water on yourself?” Zuko asked softly.
Katara’s eye widened before retreating into a look of understanding and sadness. Her hand remained on his scar and caressed his burned skin. “In my culture, scars are not badges of shame, but honor and strength.”
Zuko’s body stilled at the word honor.
Katara sighed and gently removed her hand from his delicate hold to show the scars on both hands. “When I look at my scars, I don’t see the moment it happened or feel the pain from the moment. All I see is growth—a permanent reminder of where these burns led me.”
Zuko continued to say nothing, his eyes still frozen in a daze of bewilderment.
Katara sighed as she continued. “Every scar has meaning. Some are lessons such as ‘don’t play with the knives without supervision as a kid.’ Others- like these,” she motions to her hands. “Are reminders in many forms. For me, they represent a moment of growth for another person in my life, a moment of profound change. For him, they act as caution and a lesson.”
Zuko’s eyes never left her own. “The Avatar did that to you?”
Katara flinched at the tone in his voice. “It was an accident. He got too excited about producing a flame-”
Zuko nodded curtly before relaxing his posture. He knew all too well that it’s like to be burned on purpose.
“What about you? Your scar? How did that-”
Yes, I just wrote a mini fic. I wasn’t supposed to, but I did.
