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Burned

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In the hot, humid lands of the Fire Nation, children are warned about the face of Agni high above. He punished those who dared to bask in His presence overlong. In those tropical climes, the sun could kill. During the worst summer months, people of all ages, from the richest merchant to the poorest beggar, slathered on ointments and lotions and creams and oils to protect their pale complexions. The formulas of the various types of sunscreen available differed from class to class, but everyone in the Fire Nation knew the consequences of not using protection.

Iroh tossed his nephew a jar. “You know you have to.”

Zuko frowned and began liberally applying the thick white ointment to the back of his neck and onto his face. He hated the stuff. It smelled like old people and made his skin clammy. This goop was made for peasants and soldiers. Back when he’d still lived in the palace, the sun lotions he had used were of the highest quality, scented delicately with lilacs and applied by soft-handed maids. Even so, he’d never enjoyed this summertime ritual, but knew if he didn’t put sunscreen on, Uncle would nag him all day, his pale skin would inevitably burn, and then he’d go to bed sore and feverish and red as a lobster.

Nearby, the rest of the gang was following suit. He grudgingly admitted that traveling with the Avatar’s crew did have one advantage: freebies and discounts, not to mention a modest purse of Water Tribe money that afforded them this much-needed toiletry. He watched the water siblings gingerly rub the cream over their skin.

“You’re not doing it right,” he said to the Waterbender. Her face was puckered in a look of disdain as she rubbed a tiny dollop of sunscreen onto the back of her neck.

She turned to scowl at him, but her face froze as she took in his appearance. Katara burst out laughing.

“You look like a clown!” She chortled. Sokka turned to see what was so funny, and promptly doubled over, guffawing.

Zuko crossed his arms over his chest. “Laugh all you want, but you’re definitely not putting enough of that stuff on. If you don’t slather it on thick, you’ll burn for sure.”

“And if we slather it on as thickly as you did, we’ll look like frosted cakes,” Sokka sniggered.

The prince lifted his chin into the air. “Huh. Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. This isn’t the South Pole, you know. You don’t have parkas to protect you from the rays, and it’s, like, a hundred degrees out here. You’ll either bake in your clothes, or fry in the sun.”

“Zuko’s right,” Aang piped up. They looked over at him and their laughter tripled, hooting wildly at the sight of his bald head daubed thickly with the ointment. He was in the process of applying it to Toph’s face, neck, and arms as well. The Earthbender girl was even applying it to the exposed tops of her feet. “I’ve had some pretty bad burns flying on Appa, and there isn’t a whole lot of shade in the sky.”

“Thanks, mom, but I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Katara rolled her eyes. “Sokka and I dealt with sun all the time back home. We had months of midnight sun – you know, day and night, where there is no night and the sun is up all the time? And we can take a little summer heat, can’t we, Sokka?”

“It’ll give me a chance to work on my tan,” Sokka stretched languorously as the Waterbender offered the barely touched jar of sunscreen to the prince, who rolled his eyes right back at her.

“Agni have mercy on you two,” he said with an almost piteous look. Then he leaned in and said lowly, “You’ll want me to come by your tent later tonight.”

Katara quirked an eyebrow. She must have heard him wrong.

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When the blazing sun had finally, FINALLY sunk below the horizon, Sokka lay whimpering on his sleeping bag in the cooling night, trying to find a patch of skin that wasn’t seared and blistered to lie comfortably on. True to his word, he had worked on his tan…and paid severely for it. His whole chest now radiated heat. Toph gazed sightlessly down at him. She toed him and he yelped in pain.

“Hey Iroh, forget about the fire tonight! We’ll just cook our eggs on Sokka’s back!” she called. The old general laughed heartily.

In her tent, stripped down to her underclothes, Katara lay on her front moaning, too headachy and feverish to heal herself. Unlike Sokka, she had kept her shirt on, but what skin had been exposed was now the colour of a ripe tomato, and hot to the touch.

A rustle of the tent flap told her someone had arrived. The heady scent of wood smoke and teenage boy identified her visitor.

“Come to gloat?” her voice was muffled by the pillow she lay face-down on.

“Yes,” Zuko sat down cross-legged by her side.

The girl’s next string of muffled words gave him some direction about where he should go and suggested some unkind things about his relationship with his mother. The Firebender said nothing. She heard the sound of a lid being unscrewed from a jar. A sudden coolness touched her fiery skin at the nape of her neck and she yelped, her muscles jumping beneath his fingers. Zuko pushed her gently back down onto her front.

“Relax. It’s just cold cream. It’ll make you feel better,” his hand traveled down her neck, spreading the soothing ointment over her back, shoulders, and arms. Too exhausted from sunstroke, Katara could do nothing but let him run his hands over her. She was vaguely aware that this was probably in that category of things Sokka would beat Zuko up for, but her brother was down for the count. Besides, the prince’s firm touch and no-nonsense ministrations were reassuring rather than erotic. That, at least, is what the Waterbender made herself believe.

She relaxed as he spread the goop over her, wondering when and where he had developed his bedside manner, and whether he would give her oven-roasted brother the same gentle treatment. He unclasped the necklace and put it by her hand so she would know it was still nearby, then clucked his tongue like a mother hen at the band of unsinged flesh it had left, a stripe of light mocha against a field of deep crimson-flecked fuchsia that showed just how bad the burns were. In her haze, she barely made out his low, husky admonishments, even as he rolled her onto her back by wrapping a strong arm around her waist.

Only when their hips bumped did she realize just how cozy they were in her tent, and how comfortable she was with him there. Having identified this predicament, of course, Katara tensed up. How was she supposed to feel? It wasn’t as if Zuko was her ideal man… it’s not like she would ever marry him or anything, but her brain started working, and she became more and more agitated even as he settled her onto her back, his breath brushing her cheek.

She kept her eyes closed, a little afraid that if she opened them, Zuko would be gone and this would all be a dream. A little shiver ran through her as he put more of the soothing cold cream onto her shoulders and collarbone, his fingers dipping down and across the slope of her breasts.

“Oh!” she gasped.

“Sorry, did that hurt?” Zuko took his hand away, and Katara’s eyes snapped open, her nerves jangled, wild alarms blaring in her head. She could barely see him sitting there, and couldn’t see the look on his face, though she tried to peer up at him. A shaft of moonlight streaming in from the open tent flap did nothing to help her sight – the prince’s back was to the exit.

The electricity fizzling beneath her skin where he had touched her seeped into her bones. She became aware that she was staring at him, and she eased herself onto her back once more, wanting only more of the relief he was lavishing upon her fevered body.

When she closed her eyes again, he resumed his nursing. Her skin was now pebbled with goose bumps that only prickled more beneath his fingertips. She would have liked to know what was going on through his mind, what he was thinking as she lay there in the dark, letting him touch her. She nearly screamed at herself; Zuko was just helping her. She had healed him hundreds of times, surely he was just paying her back for her kindness?

The water girl swore she could hear the Firebender grinning.

When his touch left her body, a little ripple of regret passed through her. Katara heard him screw the lid of the jar back on. She sighed in relief and contentment. A sheath of damp coolness enveloped her skin, and she no longer felt weighed down by fever. In that husky voice she was really beginning to like too much, he wished her good night and exited. Her tumultuous feelings and the awakening of some deep creature within her breast only kept her eyes open for a short time before all thought was obliterated by heat fatigue. Soon she drifted into a deep summer slumber, dreaming of cool snow banks and the warm gentle touch of a handsome prince.

---

The next morning, she wondered if it had all been a dream. She ached all over, but the burn had been quelled.

She emerged from the tent to see a green Sokka.

Her face contorted in preparation for a good long laugh, but then he spotted her and mirrored her look of amused incredulity.

“Well, good morning to you two,” Iroh grinned at them both, his stout form quivering with merriment. “I see my nephew made sure you got the cold cream.” He winked at Katara discreetly.

Sokka cried, “What are you talking about? My sister’s GREEN!”

“Speak for yourself, Sokka!” But then Katara’s eyes widened as she looked down at her forearms. They were a deep forest green. Her brother’s chest, back, and face were the same shade. She imagined she looked much the same, remembering where Zuko had touched her...

And then she realized what the Firebending prince had done. His soothing words and touch, the soft voice, the cold cream made of seaweed extracts and aloe…

The cold cream had dyed them both green. Zuko had played them both.

“ZUKO!” The water siblings cried in unison.

A little distance off, the prince basked in the sun and laughed long and hard.