Betrothal

Then it was quiet. Zuko’s kiss seemed to cause Katara more distress than the entire ordeal. He wasn’t even sure why he did it himself, maybe because she was vulnerable, maybe because Zuko’s brain was once again receiving blood and therefore oxygen and he was putting everything in perspective.
Zuko pulled out of Katara and sat back as she pulled away and wrapped her arms around her breasts, needlessly embarrassed. There was something about the situation that felt odd, something beyond her emotions towards their recent act. Had Katara had any spiritual training (something the chief’s daughter would’ve had had the Fire Nation not decimated her tribe) she would’ve known to get out of the water, Katara would’ve known that soaking in water that now had her virgin’s blood and Zuko’s semen in it was a powerful act. Such rituals had a tendency to bind people together in ways they don’t plan.
But neither of them knew of such things, so they continued to sit in the water, not quite sure what to do next.
Eventually they both stood up, dressed and left the bath house, the sun had set and a waxing moon was high in the sky. Zuko had gone to his room to dry his clothes while Katara headed out to courtyard to make dinner. She was happy to see that Sokka had already done it, though not happy enough to actually risk eating any of the odd smelling soup. Instead of sitting with everyone else, she decided to practice her bending.
Even though the moon was not full, Katara’s bending was the strongest it had ever been. For the first time, she felt as if it didn’t matter. Katara’s belief in her abilities was all she needed. She could bend any water anywhere; the element was at her command. Deciding to follow this new urge, Katara reached out and felt all of the water around her. Not just the fountains and baths, but the plants and creatures as well. Everything had water; it was the element of life. A particular pool of water was calling to her; she couldn’t place it but decided to reach out for it nonetheless.
Zuko was sitting in the corner of his bed, his clothes hung over his window sill drying in the warm evening air. He felt different, but he couldn’t figure out what exactly had changed. This wasn’t Zuko’s first time, nor was it with someone he had romantic intentions towards; at least not prior. But something about it had changed him.
Zuko gasped, an amazing feeling washed over his body. Every nerve was tingling with pleasure, as if a warm wave had washed over him. But just as quickly as it had hit it retreated. Then it hit again and again, Zuko had no idea what it was, he just didn’t want it to stop. Each wave became more intense, as if he were literally drowning in the sensations. His head lolled back and a groan escaped his mouth, it was incredible. Harder and faster the waves slammed into his body, growing more intense each time. Harder and faster, harder and faster, sweeping Zuko out to sea and then slamming him back against the rocks. He was close, so close. His body shuddered as reached his completion. After he recovered, Zuko leaned back against the wall confused. He hadn’t been touching himself and he wasn’t dreaming. How had that happened?
In a fountain off the courtyard Katara put her hands down and stepped out of the water. She didn’t know why, but there was something about this practice that made her feel accomplished.