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[burntsecrets]

A Fire in the Dusk

Pairing: Zuko x Katara

Word Count: 987

Prompt: For Zutara Week 2024 | Day 2: Dusk @zutaraweek

Warnings: mentions of past war and trauma, emotional vulnerability, introspection on identity and purpose, mild romantic tension, kiss/physical intimacy, references to political responsibilities and challenges

The balcony of the Jasmine Dragon overlooked Republic City’s chaotic sprawl. Below, lanterns flickered to life one by one, their golden glow chasing away the deepening shadows of the evening. The streets bustled with hurried footsteps and the occasional bark of a vendor’s call. Above it all, the sky blazed in hues of orange and violet, a smattering of stars just beginning to peek through.

Katara leaned forward on the railing, her hands loose at her sides, the fabric of her blue shawl fluttering in the breeze. Her gaze followed the skyline, where ornate spires stood silhouetted against the horizon. The distant clang of metal echoed up from a construction site, but her focus stayed on the clouds, heavy with the promise of night.

“You look like you’re about to waterbend the sky,” Zuko’s voice cut through the quiet, low and even.

She turned her head slightly, catching sight of him standing a few paces back. His posture was straight, hands clasped behind him—a habit he hadn’t shaken even in private. The soft glow of a nearby lantern brushed against his scarred face, making his sharp features appear softer. He was still wearing the dark crimson robes of the Fire Lord, though the golden flames embroidered along the hem seemed at odds with the unassuming space of his uncle’s teahouse.

“And you look like you’re planning your next big proclamation,” she teased, her lips quirking into a small smile.

Zuko exhaled a faint laugh, stepping closer until he stood beside her. His eyes followed hers to the skyline, where the last rays of sunlight lingered stubbornly on the edges of the city’s tallest buildings.

“Do you miss it?” she asked after a moment, her voice quieter now. “The fire? The fight?”

His brow furrowed, though he didn’t look at her. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on the horizon, where distant plumes of smoke rose from the city’s industrial district. “Sometimes,” he admitted, his words deliberate. “But it’s different now. The fight is in council chambers and trade negotiations. It’s... colder.”

Katara nodded, her fingers brushing the wooden railing absently. “It’s not the same as facing someone across a battlefield. But I guess neither of us expected life to be the same after the war.”

Zuko tilted his head toward her, a small smirk playing at his lips. “You don’t miss the fighting, do you?”

Her eyes flicked to him, the faintest glint of mischief there. “Not exactly. I miss the clarity of it, though. You knew who you were up against. What you had to do.” She turned back to the view, the humor fading from her voice. “These days, it’s harder to tell.”

The unspoken weight of her words hung in the air. Zuko studied her profile—the firm line of her jaw, the way her eyes reflected the fading light. He wanted to say something, but the words felt tangled in his throat, their meaning too big to shape into sound.

A cool breeze swept past, carrying the scent of rain and distant jasmine. Katara tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the motion small but enough to draw his attention. 

“You’ve changed,” she said finally, breaking the silence. Her tone was soft, not accusatory. “Not just as Fire Lord. As... you.”

Zuko’s fingers tightened around the edge of the railing. “So have you.”

She tilted her head, a faint laugh escaping her. “I hope so. Otherwise, what was the point of everything we went through?”

He gave a slow nod, but his eyes remained fixed on her. She wasn’t looking at him, yet somehow, she seemed to know he was there, watching her every move. The lines of her face were older now, sharper, but no less beautiful. If anything, the years had added something he couldn’t quite put into words. Strength, perhaps. Or maybe just something he’d been too blind to notice before.

“Katara,” he started, his voice quieter than he meant.

She turned to him, her expression curious but open. The warmth of her gaze caught him off guard, but he didn’t look away. For a moment, he forgot the teahouse, the city, the world beyond them. There was just her, standing close enough to touch, her presence steady and grounding in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

“I’ve spent a long time looking for balance,” he said, his words slow and deliberate. “For peace.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she said nothing, waiting.

“I think…” he hesitated, his breath catching as he took a half step closer. “I think I’ve found it. Here. With you.”

The city seemed to fade away, its noise dull and distant. Katara didn’t speak immediately, but the softness in her expression told him enough. She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his, the touch both tentative and certain.

“Zuko,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “you don’t have to look anymore.”

The space between them closed as he leaned down, her hand sliding up to rest lightly against his chest. Their lips met, a slow and quiet collision, filled with years of tension, regret, and something new—something that felt a lot like hope.

When they pulled apart, her forehead rested against his, her eyes still closed as if she didn’t want to let the moment go.

“Dusk,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady.

Zuko’s brows furrowed slightly. “What?”

She opened her eyes, meeting his. “It’s my favorite time of day. It’s not quite night, not quite day. It’s... the in-between. Where everything feels possible.”

The faintest smile curved his lips, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of the Fire Nation’s crown seemed lighter.

“Then let’s stay here,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. “In the in-between.�� 

The stars began to fill the sky as the last of the light faded, leaving them standing together, unburdened by the past, open to whatever came next.