#hesitancy

She didn’t know what he said to Aang, but that night the Avatar found her and they talked for a long time. Apparently before he had arrived at the Fire Nation he had planned to do his best to woo her one last time and if she still wasn’t interested, he would try to move on. He had hoped seeing him again would reignite their original spark and they could work something out. She didn’t think it necessary to tell him that spark had always just been wishful thinking on her part. He didn’t ask when she and Zuko first started liking each other. Actually, he seemed reluctant to talk about Zuko at all. So Katara talked with him about other things.

Aang was glad she was happy, but also still needed some time to work through his feelings. The meetings with the Earth Kingdom had only one more day left, so he was planning on leaving right after. He hadn’t yet asked Toph or Sokka if they wanted to cut their visit short to go with him.

Katara was sad to see him, and possibly Sokka and Toph, go so soon. But while it wasn’t the response she had been hoping for, it definitely was not the worst. In an attempt to cheer her up, Zuko wound up quoting everything he could remember Uncle Iroh saying about time being the best healer. And then for good measure he started making up his own quotes, which made sense only half the time, but succeeded in making her laugh.

And Aang stopped running from her. He attended meals with her and Zuko and the others and it almost felt normal, like old times. Only now she was very conscious of how much attention she gave Zuko when around Aang. She was used to not showing any special interest in her boyfriend when other people were around. Their relationship was kept private for now, though she doubted anything was actually a secret in the palace. Still, they didn’t want the Fire Nation nobles or the other diplomats to assume she was getting any special treatment just because they were dating. She knew at some point she’d have to give up her position as Water Tribe Ambassador, but she wasn’t ready to do that yet. She still had so much she wanted to do to help her tribe as well and the Fire Nation.

So acting impartial to her boyfriend was nothing new, but that was something she had to do in front of palace staff and old politicians. She shouldn’t have to do it in front of her friends. Aside from the fact that she wasn’t actually doing anything wrong by dating Zuko, there was also the fact that they were both still healthy teenagers and it was often very difficult and annoying to keep their hands to themselves. It wasn’t like she wanted to make out with him in front of their friends— like, at all — but casual touches would be wonderful. She liked leaning against him so he’d wrap his arms around her. Maybe idly play with her hair while they talked or read or whatever. She loved holding his hand because he’d give little squeezes in response to things she said or did or just when he wanted to. Because he could.

She knew showing any public displays of affection would just be cruel to Aang right now, but she wondered if there would ever be a time when she and Zuko wouldn’t have to hesitate to show their love. They both understood what they were getting into when they agreed to date and she was determined not to let anyone dictate what kind of relationship they were allowed, but sometimes the waiting felt like too much and she had to stop herself from kissing him in front of the Council of Elders just for their reaction.

But on the first night back at the temple, Zuko looked squirmy and uncomfortable under the glow of the others' praise, and at the first opportunity, he darted off to wash the dishes. He didn't want to be praised, Katara finally realized. Zuko just helped. Even now, with the whole of the temple abuzz at the adults' arrival, with some of the usual chaos abating as the newcomers steadied the food supply and kept the younger kids occupied, he kept helping.

And little by little, Katara lost her grip on the resentment that had consumed her for so long. Things weren't right just yet, but they were getting closer—closer than she could remember them being in a very long time.

She wasn't ready to forgive Zuko, not yet, but maybe she could lower her walls. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to let him in just a little bit.

She found him on the edge of a terrace, arms folded, shoulders slightly hunched as he watched Dad, Sokka, and Suki training in the courtyard below. She could have walked away. A few days ago, she would have. She would have dismissed the quiet melancholy, the loneliness in his posture and moved on.

But today, there were no chores to run back to, no ridiculous arguments to resolve between the others, and no crises to mend. Today, the weights seemed lifted from her shoulders. Today, she felt like taking a chance. Just a little one.

"I thought swordfighting was your specialty," she said, hanging a few steps back.

With a start, Zuko straightened and peered over his shoulder at her.

Keeping her distance, Katara came around to stand against the next column in the row. She watched Suki lunge at Sokka's knees, knocking him to the ground. "I thought you'd be down there training with them."

"Oh." From the corner of her eye, she saw Zuko shift and reach up to rub the back of his neck. "No. Not—not this time."

"Why not?" She didn't look his way. It was easier not to. Easier not to get caught in his piercing golden gaze if she didn't meet his eyes.

"I didn't want to intrude."

That soft, uncertain tone still sounded foreign from his lips, like all his sharpened edges had worn away. Like they were back in the catacombs again and Zuko had left himself open and raw. Vulnerable. It had always felt like a trap before, like the openness was a trick designed to lure her nearer, but it was becoming more and more constant, the rule rather than the exception.

"How would you be intruding? They're just training."

Zuko ran a hand through his hair. "I know. It's just—" He gestured helplessly toward the courtyard. "It seems like a family thing."

Katara almost reminded him that Suki wasn't family either. She might be someday if Sokka had his way, but for now, she was no more family than Zuko.

But Katara didn't say that. Instead, she turned toward him, studying him in profile, the tension in his jaw, the slight, nervous shifts in his stance. She traced his gaze down to the courtyard, saw his eyes flick toward Dad again and again, saw him stiffen ever so slightly when Dad moved, when Dad spoke.

"You're scared of my dad." There was no question in her voice, it was a statement, a fact.

Zuko whipped his head toward her, eyes wide. "No," he said, tone so uncertain that it was more question than anything else. He shook his head and looked away, clearing his throat. "No. No, I'm not scared of your dad."

Though his tone was steadier, Katara was no more convinced.

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, eyebrow arched.

With a slow, uneven sigh, Zuko leaned his shoulder against the column beside him. "I'm not scared, it's just—my record with fathers isn't good." A small pause. "Especially my own." He stared into the courtyard for a long moment before he snapped back to reality and looked at Katara again. "Sorry. Your dad seems nice."

"But you're afraid of him." She sat, leaning back against her own column, her legs dangling off the edge of the terrace.

Zuko mirrored her, perching a few arms' lengths away. "I guess so."

"So why watch him train with the others?"

He shrugged. "Curiosity, maybe. I don't know for sure." He glanced toward Katara. "What about you?"

"Can't I watch my dad and brother train together?"

Zuko looked out over the courtyard again. "Of course you can. But you could have watched them and avoided me if you wanted to." He didn't turn her way.

Katara was grateful for that. She wasn't sure how she would have reacted had he actually looked at her.

A little sheepish, she produced the moonpeaches she had nabbed from the bowl in the kitchen. "I brought snacks."

Now Zuko turned toward her. "You—" His eyes landed on the fruit and the corner of his mouth tilted slightly upward, though his brow remained raised in bewilderment. "You did."

Katara tossed one at him, and he caught it in midair. "Don't read into it. I always have snacks. It's a requirement of being related to Sokka."

He nodded, but the little, crooked smile didn't fade. It was a nice smile. Small and soft, and it reached upward, crinkling his eyes at the corners.

Stop it, she ordered herself. She was making peace with him as thanks for his help with the chores, nothing more. Her stomach had no business fluttering like that.

"Thank you, Katara."

There was a little flip in the pit of her stomach, and her face heated. No, no, no, no, no. She didn't trust Zuko, she couldn't trust Zuko. She wasn't going to go soft for him.

She took a huge, inelegant bite of her moonpeach to push the fluttering back down. It didn't work. The usual sticky sweetness of the fruit filled her mouth, then there was a small crunch, and a rush of bitterness overpowered the rest of the flavor.

She gagged and leaned forward, letting the mouthful of peach fall between her knees and over the edge of the terrace.

"Katara?" There was movement, then a warm hand closed on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

The bitter taste still lingered in her mouth, and she spat out as much of it as she could. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she looked back, and Zuko pulled away, as though he'd just realized the line he'd crossed. Oddly, she found that she hadn't minded it. The weight of his hand on her shoulder wasn't the worst feeling in the world.

But the moonpeach—she looked down at it, at the soft, moist flesh that should have been uniformly pink through to the core. It wasn't. Right there in the center was a brownish blotch, and a ring of hard stuff. If she looked close enough, she could see it moving.

She gagged again. "I think I just ate a worm."

Zuko made a snorting sound, and Katara shot a glare at him. She gave his shoulder a shove and dropped what was left of the moonpeach on the terrace between them.

"Don't laugh at me."

Zuko shook his head and dropped to sit beside her, still smiling. "Sorry. I'm not—" A quick chuckle burst out and he covered his mouth.

"Jerk."

Zuko cleared his throat and collected himself. "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you."

The smile persisted, though, and after Katara washed the wormy taste out of her mouth with a bit of water, she almost smiled too. Almost.

"Here." Zuko offered his moonpeach. "You can have mine. I appreciate the thought."

Katara hesitated. Outside of his insistence on doing chores, she'd made a point of not accepting anything from him, especially food, since he arrived. She'd even gone so far as to ban him from the kitchen for his first few days at the temple. But he hadn't tried to hurt any of them, and he certainly hadn't tried to poison anyone. And she had brought the moonpeaches down. There was no way he was trying to poison her. Still, reluctance gripped her.

Especially with the wormy moonpeach sitting between them. That little surprise had diminished her appetite considerably.

"Split it," she said. "I'm not as hungry as I thought."

Zuko's smile quirked upward again, but he didn't comment as he pulled out his knife—the pretty little pearl one that he seemed to always carry. The blade bit through the soft skin, carving a smooth, pink line through the white body of the fruit, and Zuko twisted the halves apart.

His eyes widened, and he made an almost comical look of disgust. "Well that's—yuck." He angled the moonpeach halves so she could see the wiggly brownish shapes inside. "I don't think you'll want this one either."

"Is the whole basket like that? The boys just picked them this morning." Katara had been excited when Teo, The Duke, and Aang had gathered up the basket of fresh fruit earlier in the morning—she'd already tried to figure out how far the extra food would help stretch their supplies, but if every one of the peaches was full of worms, she'd prefer to take her chances visiting a Fire Nation market town for real food.

Zuko shrugged. "Did they pick them off the tree or the ground?"

Well, The Duke was too short to reach any of the branches of the moonpeach trees. Teo too. And neither The Duke nor Aang had any qualms about climbing trees, but if it was easier, then—

"The ground."

He pulled a face again and closed up the wriggling fruit. "Yeah, then they're all like this."

Katara groaned and let her head thump down into her hands. "We're going to have to go shopping for more food in a few days, aren't we?"

"Well—" He paused, and she turned to look at him. "I could pick some more. The ones that are on the trees should be fine. I mean—if you want me to."

She considered it for a second. Having the extra food would be good. And if they could replace the basket of wormy moonpeaches before supper, then she wouldn't have to explain to the boys that their attempt at helping was anything but helpful. Maybe she could get Zuko to gently inform them that fruit on the ground wasn't always good to eat.

She nodded. "I'll come with you."

His face reddened just a hint, and she caught a hint of a smile before she looked away.

"Let's get rid of the bad ones first." She stood, picking up her discarded moonpeach on the way. "Luckily I know someone who likes to eat fruit and bugs."

Zuko's brow furrowed as he stood up with her. "Who, Sokka?"

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "No. Not the last time I checked. Momo."

"Oh." He looked a little embarrassed but relaxed into a small smile with her laugh. "You know, that does make a lot more sense."

Smiling, Katara shook her head. "Just wait until I tell Sokka that you wanted to feed him worms."

Zuko started to protest, but she held up a hand.