Chapter Text
Before Katara knew it, Aang was a foot taller than her, his voice had settled into a melodic baritone, and his frame had gone from willowy and lean to hardened muscle and quiet strength.
The cadence of their relationship changed.
They’d kissed a hundred, maybe a thousand times by then, but the air between them was charged with something new as they embarked with Sokka on a mission for the Earth Kingdom. Sweet, bursting affection had taken on a new heat that made Katara hyper aware of every time they touched, every lingering glance. She looked at him, and her body completely betrayed her; her mouth watered, her thighs clenched, and her breath caught in her throat.
She could tell he felt it too.
The way his throat bobbed when he handed her up into Appa’s saddle. The way his fists clenched when she reached across him to grab the waterskin, and her breasts grazed against his arm. His eyes lingered often on the neckline of her dress, or on the curve of her waist, flashing with something new and heady that made her head spin.
They’d spent more time apart the past few years.
She was helping establish Republic City while traveling back and forth between the Water Tribes. Aang was, well, he was the Avatar. He was needed everywhere all the time. Just a few stolen moments, almost in passing. Holding hands at dinner tables and brief kisses goodnight.
Looking at him now, robes billowing in the wind, the line of his jaw sharp against the setting sun, she knew it wouldn’t be enough for her anymore.
They were given the same pavilion as they always were when they landed in Ba Sing Se at dusk. The Avatar's compound was sprawling, opulent even. Not that Aang required or even necessarily enjoyed opulence, but the comfort and privacy of it was tempting.
Katara could lose track of herself here.
Standing on the balcony in the well-manicured garden, Katara breathed deep, the warm breeze tossing her hair. Aang was already up at the palace, whisked away almost as soon as they’d landed, and her sharp disappointment had surprised her. She should have been used to it by now.
The city, at least, was as beautiful as she remembered. It was the height of spring, the roses were blooming in the garden beds, and the air was fragrant with freshly clipped grass and the jasmine creeping over the buildings behind her.
Her brother, of course, had to ruin everything.
“Hey, stupid,” he called out of one of the open windows. Her shoulders immediately hitched up to her ears. “We’re invited to some fancy dinner up at the palace. I’ll assume you want time to try and make yourself pretty. As pointless as that—”
He was silenced by a large splash of water from a nearby bird bath that she bent directly into his smug face.
Jerk.
_
_
_
Katara frowned at the clothing she’d laid out on the bed and felt… agitated. Annoyed. Why hadn’t she brought anything nicer? She huffed and turned to sit directly on her assortment of casual, practical water-tribe dresses, and put her face in her hands.
Why did she even care?
Aang had seen her at her very worst at least a dozen times. He’d seen her dirty, smelly, and unwashed. It had been years since she’d really cared how she looked when she was around him.
Why now? What was wrong with her?
She groaned into her palms before dropping them to the bed and letting out a deep sigh as she glared at the intricately carved ceiling above her. The golden-flaked vines provided sudden inspiration. She rose to open the door of her room and called down the hallway for one of the servants who she knew were lingering below.
A pretty woman in a finely made dress and perfectly done hair appeared a moment later and bowed low. “How can I serve you, Master Katara?”
Katara cleared her throat, already feeling like an idiot. “I, uh, realize this is incredibly short notice. But, I, uh, seem to have forgotten my formal wear at home and was wondering if you might have something on hand—oh!” The woman snapped upright immediately, eyes brimming with excitement.
“Of course, Master Katara, we have a selection of dresses that should suit your needs.”
Katara frowned. “You…do?”
The woman nodded fervently. “Of course! We are always prepared to accommodate the Avatar and his most esteemed guests.”
“That's, well, great! Um, should we—”
“Follow me, please.” The woman gracefully extended her arm further down the hallway behind Katara. “Myself and your other lady’s maids will have you ready in no time.”
Katara suppressed a grimace. She had the distinct sense that she was going to regret this.
_
_
_
An hour later, after much primping, polishing, and arguing, Katara met Sokka at the door of their apartments, and he did a double-take.
“Where did you get that?” He gestured at the fall of her deep blue, silk gown with its gossamer layers of silvery cloth and beads of gleaming crystal and pearl.
She had to resist the urge to tug up on the embroidered neckline of the bodice that was much lower than she was used to.
“We have to hurry, or we’ll be late,” she insisted as she hurried down the stairs, skirts clutched in her hand.
One of the maids stepped forward to wrap a silvery silk shawl over her shoulders, carefully brushing aside the sweep of her artfully combed and styled hair.
“Are you wearing perfume?” he asked incredulously as she drew closer.
“Did you even bathe?” she snapped and pushed past him before she completely lost her nerve and ran back up the stairs to profess some sudden illness.
“Someone is grumpy,” she heard him mutter before he caught up to her as she reached the guarded gate of the compound. The White Lotus guards there bowed low as they passed outside and onto the main thoroughfare, where a closed carriage awaited them.
Her brother wisely kept the rest of his opinions to himself.
Aang was waiting for them just inside the receiving chambers of the Palace with the rest of the guests.
He’d changed too, his formal robe pulled tight across his chest and tucked into an orange silk sash with blue embroidery that accentuated the trimness of his waist in contrast to the breadth of his shoulders. His pants were fitted, and he carried his glider staff in one large hand.
He smiled at something someone said, and he was so handsome that Katara nearly stumbled over her own feet as a set of footmen guided them forward. Many sets of eyes turned as they drew closer, and Aang turned to face them, mouth open as if poised to speak.
He saw her and froze, smile all but dying on his face as her heart leapt into her throat. His eyes swept up her body, lingering on her chest before darting searchingly up to her face.
“Master Katara, it’s so lovely to see you again,” said the Chamberlain standing next to him with a smooth, rather dramatic bow.
His words effectively broke whatever spell she’d wrought over Aang, and he cleared his throat, suddenly unable to look her in the eye. There was color high in his cheeks.
Katara plastered a smile on her face and gave the smallest of bows lest she fall flat on the floor. They hadn’t taught much etiquette where she came from; they’d been much too busy with silly things like survival.
“Thank you, Lord Chamberlain, and our thanks to the King for having us. We look forward to our discussions about the upcoming treaties.”
The man waved a hand with a lofty smile. “Yes, yes, tomorrow we shall discuss at great length your efforts in Republic City. But tonight we enjoy the festivities!”
With that, the doors to the main dining hall were thrown open, and the gathered guests were invited within. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sokka nudge Aang forward with an elbow.
He stepped quickly to her side and offered his arm. Tilting her head up, she found his eyes were bright in the lantern light as night fell into shadow beyond the wide glass window behind him. She met his stare and was caught again in the sea of tension that seemed to stretch out between them.
“Katara,” he said, voice gruff before he cleared it again. “You look…” he trailed off, wetting his lips as his eyes dropped to her mouth.
“Yeah, she looks great, whatever,” Sokka said, pushing her into Aang’s arms. “I’m starving.”
She was going to kill her brother.
She was immediately distracted from her murderous thoughts, however, by the realization that she had her hand pressed flat against Aang’s chest and was leaning heavily against his side. Heat snapped her spine straight, and she withdrew her hand as she hurriedly slipped her arm into his, not daring to look at his face.
-
-
-
Dinner was…awkward.
She and Aang apparently had no idea what to say to each other. She had become so hyperaware of him physically that she felt like she could barely move. She picked at her food and drank two glasses of wine before they even served the main meal, making her head light. At her side, Aang talked stiltedly with the man next to him, but his back was too straight, his posture tense. He seemed to be avoiding looking at her.
They were halfway through their meals when her brother finally had enough.
“What's the matter with you two?” Sokka demanded, seated across from her and brandishing a fork between them accusingly.
“What are you talking about?” Katara hissed, keeping her voice low.
“You’re acting weird,” he insisted. “You’re normally all over each other, and yes, it's very annoying and gross, but preferable to whatever this is.”
Rage and embarrassment heated her face, and Katara wondered if she could get away with stuffing a dinner roll in his mouth to shut him up.
Sokka narrowed his eyes at them. “Are you two fighting? I hate it when you guys fight. I almost prefer the incessant kissing to the pettiness—”
Aang suddenly grabbed Katara by the arm and planted a firm, unexpected kiss against her slightly opened mouth. His lips were incredibly warm, the pressure bruising, and the contact sent a shock of heat through her that made her entire body seize.
Before her mind could fully catch up to what was happening, he had pulled away. He stared down at her, his expression serious and piercing, before he released her and turned back to Sokka, who was staring at them with disgust.
“Happy?” Aang asked, casually eating another dumpling as the dignitaries nearby averted their gazes.
Sokka raised a brow, incredulous. “I guess?”
Katara cleared her throat, trying to regain some control over the situation. “Good, now shut up and mind your own business.”
-
-
-
The King requested Aang’s presence following the feast, so she and Sokka went back to the compound alone. Her brother was snoring about two minutes into the journey, head lolling against the carriage cushions, and Katara was trying to fight back a sudden wave of melancholy she couldn’t quite place.
She kept thinking of the kiss.
Of the look on Aang’s face when he’d pulled away, a look she couldn’t quite decipher. She wanted him to do it again. She wanted him to do more.
With a sigh, she shut her eyes and let her forehead rest against the cool glass of the carriage as the palace rolled past them.
She wanted more time with him, was the truth of it. Time that was just for her, as selfish and unfair as that was. Suddenly, her fancy dress felt stupid. Silly even, if he wasn’t there to appreciate her in it. It was probably all the wine she drank; it always went right to her head.
Once back at the compound, she left Sokka inside to try to locate the good wine on his own and went to clear her head in the enclosed garden. She felt ridiculously on the verge of tears—born mostly of a deep, bubbling frustration and feelings she couldn't even properly articulate to herself.
The garden had a lovely pond hidden away in one corner with a little wooden deck built out across it. She took off her slippers, sniffling pathetically, and gathered the silk of her dress as she settled on the creaking wood and dipped her toes into the reflection of the moon below. Dark, silvery shadows darted away from her toes as the trees above her danced and swayed.
It was a perfect, beautiful night, and it had been a long time since she felt so terribly alone.
She sat that way for a long while, listening to the rustle of the wind in the leaves and feeling generally sorry for herself. Eventually, she brushed away a few errant tears and decided maybe she’d go see if Sokka had found anything to drink, after all. Anything was better than sitting alone in the dark, feeling pathetic. Besides, she was suddenly desperate to get out of the dress and unravel the tight braids of her hair that were pulling achingly against her scalp.
She’d just set her hand on the cool wood of the deck to push herself up when she heard the familiar creak of a glider in the wind. Her heart jumped as her eyes lifted skyward. Aang’s figure cut across the brilliance of the moon as he careened towards her. She scrambled to her feet, hastily brushing herself off as he landed at the base of the steps leading up to the deck where she stood waiting against the moonlight.
His eyes were wide as he took her in, and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “The King made it sound like he had a lot to talk about.”
Aang set his glider against a nearby tree and cleared his throat. “He, uh, did.”
Katara frowned, fingers toying with the gauzy sleeve of her dress. “Oh...did something happen?”
Aang, large in the darkness, carefully mounted the steps towards her. She could smell the hint of sandalwood that always clung to him, and the fresh, cool scent of distant rain clouds.
He huffed a small laugh. “No, I just…I wanted to see you.”
Her breath stuttered in her chest, and she couldn’t seem to form words as he stepped onto the platform with her, towering above her. His expression was etched with worry as he took in her face.
“You’ve been crying.” His voice had gone tight with concern. “What's wrong, Katara?”
She blushed, feeling embarrassed and stupid, ducking her head to find her own bare toes staring up at her. She curled them back under the hem of her dress and shrugged her shoulders.
“It's nothing, I was just feeling…lonely.”
She could practically hear him tense before he reached out to touch the side of her face, urging her to look up at him. His fingertips were cool and rough, and his eyes flashed with a hint of fear.
“My fault then. I’m sorry, Katara, I—”
She shook her head sharply to silence him. “No, it's not your fault, things have just been…” she trailed off, not at all sure how to articulate the change between them.
His eyes searched hers. “Different?” he supplied, and his tone had turned almost husky.
His hand shifted so he could brush her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, and her pulse quickened. He’d never touched her like this before.
“Aang, I…”
She didn’t know how to ask for what she wanted, but she knew she had never wanted anything more than she wanted him to take her into his arms.
As if reading her mind, or perhaps simply mirroring the desperate tension between them, he took another step towards her. Mere inches separated them as he framed her face in both hands, enveloping her, grounding her, and lifting her all at once.
She raised her hand to press against one of his, overwhelmed by him.
“I love you, Katara.”
He’d said the words a hundred times before, but he spoke them now with so much conviction that it made the tears spring back to her eyes.
Then he was kissing her, and everything else melted away.
The intensity of it had her reaching for him, grasping at his firm shoulders for purchase as he traced the line of her lips with his tongue.
It was new, this kissing, and the heat in her stomach coiled a little tighter as she parted her lips for him. His tongue pressed carefully, questingly along hers, and she sighed into his mouth, sinking towards him until his hands fell from her face to grasp at her hips, anchoring her to him. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, along the smooth ridge of his scalp, enjoying the way the slight stubble there caught at her fingers.
He pulled away a moment later, breathing heavily, his expression dazed, his lips kiss-swollen and gleaming. Something heavy and possessive filled her chest. Whatever else he was, however much of him she had to share with the world, she didn’t have to share this.
Running entirely on instinct, Katara pulled away, took his hand, and guided his stumbling steps down into the darkness of the trees. Her bare feet crunched across fallen leaves and damp earth, and she lifted her dress with her free hand to keep from tripping over it.
Concealed in the shadows, she turned, stepping back until her spine met the trunk of a massive willow. Its delicate leaves painted lacy patterns across Aang’s features as he watched her. He hesitated for just a moment, then took a step towards her, followed by another, until her head met the tree behind her as she looked up at him.
Their breathing was loud in the silence, and she could feel them teetering on the edge of some great divide, one they would never be able to come back from.
“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he murmured, voice surprisingly steady.
From any other man, it would have sounded like hollow romantic platitudes. With Aang, she could see that he meant every word, could feel it in the way he touched her.
His hands slid across her waist, the silk sensual against her skin, and then spread wide down her lower back, eliciting shivers that made her bite her lip. His eyes were dark, heated, filled with her. She looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down towards her waiting lips, tipping them over that razor's edge.
Any lingering fear melted into something completely new, something almost feral, as he braced one of his hands on the tree behind her, leaning into her. Surrounding her. Boxing her in until there was nothing but the two of them and the universe they were building between them, one touch at a time.
His knee slipped between her thighs in such a sharp rush of pleasure that she broke away with a low moan. His lips fell immediately to the exposed line of her throat, and Spirits, she was drowning as she clutched at the back of his head. His tongue traced along her thundering pulse before his lips closed over her skin and suckled gently, making her head spin.
She wanted to touch him, too.
She slipped a hand down the back of his shirt and robe, nails scratching up his back, and he made a wonderful sound low in his chest that had her dragging his mouth back to hers. There was no hesitant exploration now, just a messy, eager tangle that deepened with every insistent press of his lips to hers.
“Aang,” she whined when breathing became a necessity. It was a plea—desperate, urgent in the dark.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, panting against her throat as his nose nudged along her jaw.
“T-touch me, please,” she half babbled, hands moving to push against the front of his robe so she might feel the skin over his collarbone and chest. He was so warm, such a contrast of smooth skin stretched across hard muscle.
His hand flexed against her hip as he pulled back to study her in the dark.
She could read the uncertainty, the inexperience that matched her own. She could be brave, for both of them.
Drawing in a breath to steady herself, she took his hand at her waist and carefully guided it to her chest, enclosing his fingers over her breast through the smooth silk of her gown. Aang inhaled sharply, eyes widening in the darkness before closing tightly as his jaw tightened and his fingers shifted slightly against her. She sighed at the sensation, lashes fluttering, and her reaction seemed to give him the courage he needed.
The steel of his eyes flashed hot in the silver moonlight, and he moved his hand with deliberate intention, kneading against the roundness of her breast, thumb finding the impression of her nipple and teasing it gently through the fabric. Her head fell back against the tree with a thunk that she heard but didn’t feel.
“L-like that?” he asked, his tone full of something akin to male pride that almost made her smile until he shifted his stance to bring his free hand to her other breast, and she lost all sense of herself.
She whimpered, and he muttered something she couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in her ears.
He lowered his head to ghost his lips over the neckline of her dress, and she arched up into him, prompting him to shift one hand to anchor her against him as he explored the swell of her breasts with the tip of his tongue. The contrast of wet heat cooling against her feverish skin had her pressing down more firmly against his thigh, seeking some relief for the incredible tension building low in her belly. She shifted, and pure electricity shot up her spine as she came into contact with the hard evidence of his arousal.
They both froze, and his head lifted to meet her gaze.
“Katara, I—
“Hey! Katara!” Her brother's voice broke through the darkness, far too close for comfort. “Did you get kidnapped again?”
She and Aang sprang apart, rapidly attempting to adjust their clothing just as Sokka swept past the branches of the willow a few feet away.
“Oh! Hey Aang! Managed to escape his Royal Boringness—Wait, what are you guys doing out here?” He narrowed his eyes as he looked between them.
Aang rubbed at the back of his neck, face red even in the moonlight, as Katara pursed her lips and adjusted the rumpled front of her gown.
“We, uh, were—that is—“
“We were talking,” she said dryly. “What do you want, Sokka?”
He scowled at them for another moment and then shrugged. “Whatever. Anyway, they must have hidden all the wine after we were here the last time. You guys wanna find a drink in town?”
She exchanged a glance with Aang, and they shared a soft, almost…secretive smile.
Katara sighed. “Fine. But let me change first. And if you get arrested again, you’re on your own.”
Sokka threw up his hands. “It was one time!”
-
-
-
Several weeks later, with a new frontier stretching out before them, Katara was having a hard time thinking about anything else. Her mind was full of hot kisses in the dark, rough hands sliding across fine silk, and soft, pleasured sighs in the moonlight.
Judging by the way Aang's eyes tracked her across the room over the rim of his glass, she knew she wasn’t the only one. The look carried new weight, one she felt almost like a physical touch along her skin. The small Earth Kingdom politician at Aang’s side tugged on his sleeve, and Katara bit her lip to hold back a smile as Aang sputtered and sheepishly returned to the conversation.
Another dinner.
Another event filled with political posturing and fixed smiles. It would all be unbearable if it weren’t worth it. If they weren’t making real progress. Unfortunately, none of that actually interested her tonight.
Through every conversation and barbed compliment, she could feel him as he seemed to orbit her around the room. Until they collided in one shadowed corner by the buffet table as she carefully balanced a flute of sparkling amber liquor between her fingers.
He stepped around behind her, and she held her breath as his hand found the small of her back. She could feel the heat of the touch even through the layers of her clothing. His head dipped towards hers, and his breath washed over her neck and ear as she tried to suppress a shudder.
“Want to slip away?” he asked, voice gravelly.
She felt his nose just skim the top of her ear before he pulled back to a slightly more respectable distance.
Katara lifted the glass towards her lips. “Where?”
His thumb pressed against her spine in a possessive, sweeping motion. “The back door, over by that delegation of shipbuilders. Ten minutes?”
She was trying very hard to act nonchalant. Confident.
She hummed her agreement, her pulse already leaping at the implications. His hand slipped down, just skimming the curve of her bottom, before he pulled away to make his excuses.
Ten minutes later, convinced every single person in the room knew exactly what they were doing, Katara said she needed to reply to an urgent correspondence, thanked everyone for the lovely evening, and left through the back door.
A thrill went through her at the subterfuge. A secret just for them.
The hallway beyond was dark and cool, the voices from the party echoing faintly without. The building was new, one of the first administrative buildings they’d erected in Republic City, and mostly empty at this hour.
Her heart was loud in her ears as she walked slowly down the hall, which was only dimly lit by distant lanterns. Her eyes darted between the shadows, looking for some sign of him, trying to fight back a sudden rush of nerves.
When his arm darted out from behind a set of thick curtains, she only barely managed not to scream.
Within the dark confines of the alcove beyond, she punched him lightly in the arm.
“You scared me,” she hissed.
She could feel him trying not to laugh, his body shaking with the force of his restraint.
“Sorry, sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.
She pulled a face in the near-complete darkness and sighed, nudging him more gently with her shoulder. “I suppose you can make it up to me.”
He hummed, and his arms were immediately around her.
The darkness heightened the contact, and she pressed her cheek against his chest, loving the solid bulk of him against her. His hand smoothed over her arm, fingers curling around the curve of her shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Spirits,” he murmured, fingers tightening against her. “You smell good.”
She turned her face into his chest in a rustle of fabric, hand splaying where she could feel the skip of his heart against her palm.
“You too,” she whispered, lifting her head toward his.
She could feel his breath on her face as her lips parted expectantly. His hand found her face, his thumb tracing the line of her lips before he dipped his head and kissed her with restrained enthusiasm.
He was taking his time with it.
Teasing out the anticipation with firm, lingering kisses that were slowly driving her mad.
She fisted her hands in his robes and tried to deepen the contact, but he only smiled and bent to sweep her into his arms, startling a gasp from her. He set her on the ledge of the shuttered window, putting them nearly at the same height as he stood between her thighs.
He ran his nose alongside hers, his hand moving to tangle in the fall of her hair, fingers coiling in the loose plaits of her braid as he ran his lips over her jaw and to tease the sensitive shell of her ear.
“You drive me crazy,” he murmured before latching his mouth to where her neck and shoulder met, teeth nipping gently, making her shiver. “Did you know that?”
She pushed at him a little until he stood slightly away, and even in the darkness, she could feel his confusion until she reached for the ties at the front of his shirt. His hands flexed against her as she tipped forward to mimic his attentions, tasting the salty warmth of his skin and trailing her lips over the ridge of his collarbone.
He let out a harsh breath, fingers carding through her hair at the base of her neck as she hummed her approval. She pressed towards him, desire thrumming between her thighs, aching and steady. One of his hands slipped to the small of her back, pressing her closer until she found the hard ridge of his erection pressed against her. They both groaned softly in unison as she kissed down his partially bare chest.
His breathing quickened as she spread her legs wider and locked her ankles behind his back, then experimentally canted her hips against him in a delicious, sharp spark of pleasure. Aang hissed, his fingers tugging almost painfully in her hair, but even that felt good, felt like something deeper, darker, something she desperately wanted but wasn’t sure how to ask for.
She smiled against the shadows, wrapped her arm up and around his shoulder for leverage, and did it again.
Aang’s head fell heavy against her shoulder as he muffled a groan, and when she repeated the motion, he was there to deepen the contact as that coiling tension was pulled taut and hot between her legs, where she could feel herself growing wet.
She tilted her head, kissing his ear, nibbling on his earlobe as they rocked against each other.
“Do you like that?” she asked, her own voice almost unrecognizable. Low and sultry.
He huffed something between a laugh and a groan against her shoulder, before lifting his head to capture her mouth in a kiss that was no longer teasing. The thrust of his tongue in her mouth mirrored his hips, and the heat in her abdomen was beginning to spread, weighing down her limbs, making her heart thunder against her ribs.
Sweat stood out on her brow, and her skin tingled as he adjusted his hips to hit the perfect spot that made her moan into his mouth. She felt more than heard his growling answer as the world spiraled away from her.
Voices erupted beyond the sanctuary of the curtains as the party ended and people poured out into the hallway. They tensed immediately, and her heart leapt for an entirely different reason as she clung to him. They were both breathing heavily and trying to control it as they slowly peeled themselves apart. Katara’s legs were trembling, and the space between her thighs ached like a bruise.
Aang turned his back to her as though to shield her as they both held their breaths. People swept by, stirring the curtains, and Katara pressed her face into his back, squeezing her eyes closed. She could feel the tension in the rigid line of his shoulders.
After what felt like an eternity, the voices faded, and they both let out a long breath.
“I’ll go first,” he said quietly, turning towards her again.
He pressed a hard kiss to her brow, his hands sweeping up her arms in a soothing gesture.
She decided to be brave. “Aang?”
“Humm?” His lips ghosted across her temple.
“Tomorrow…” she trailed off and wet her lips. “Sokka leaves for the Northern Water Tribe tomorrow. You…you could come over. To, um, my place that is.”
He stilled against her for a moment, and Katara made herself breathe through her uncertainty.
“If that’s what you want?”
“It is if…if it's what you want...”
She felt him smile against her hair. “After we meet with the Fire Nation delegates?”
She smiled into his chest, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce embrace. “Okay.”