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I should go and help her, Katara thinks.
Even though she’s seen Suki wave away Sokka’s offers to help dozens of times and she seems nothing short of a warrior of legend to her, the Katara from yesterday wouldn’t have been able to sit still and watch Suki fold her clothes by herself.
Her hands shake and her fingers grip so tightly around her old prison shirt it looks as if she is engulfed in it and miles away from it all at once. Katara should help her, but the sensation of blood bowing as easily as creek water to her fingers makes her own hands tremble.
Zuko hadn’t said a lot to her since she forgave him, but his eyes follow her when she pours the tea she could have easily bended, and she thinks, Is this how it’s going to be for the rest of my life?
She could just ask: “Do you need any help?” Suki isn’t finished yet.
Did Katara used to ask, or did she just go ahead and do it? She can’t remember, can’t settle on thinking about herself without feeling completely frozen but can’t seem to escape it either. Kind of like Suki with the Boiling Rock.
“If you want to help me, go ahead,” comes Suki’s soft voice cutting off her train of thought, “I know you’re itching to do it.” It’s said like a joke, but Suki is as good as Zuko at those, which isn’t really a compliment.
Katara takes a tentative couple of steps to the small pile of Suki’s belongings, kneeling down on a wooden floor she absently thinks is a terrible design choice for a holiday home inhabited by firebenders. “I’m sorry, I was just standing there the whole time. Here, let me-“ she takes the prison uniform and smooths out the creases from Suki’s iron grip.
“Thank you.”
“No need, don’t worry about it.”
Suki pauses for just a moment. There aren’t many clothes to fold but the ones she had on her back when she escaped and the ones she stole to wear in their place. “You deserve to be thanked, you know,”
The sincerity of her tone catches her off guard. It’s not that it’s unusual for Suki to be observant. She’s seen her with Sokka - Zuko even, after what happened, but it’s never really been directed at her before. It strikes her, then, how little she and Suki have spoken to each other. All this time, Katara’s been keeping her at an arm’s distance. Is she that unused to having an older girl around?
“I mean it,” Suki continues, “I noticed how much work you do around here. Cooking, washing and stuff. It kind of sucks how there’s so much on your shoulders.” A beat. “No offence.”
“None…taken?” She would have been defensive yesterday, snapped back about how it was her job and she was glad to be keeping them all together and taking care of everyone but damn it, Katara’s tired. And as foreign as this blunt appreciation is, it feels good.
“I mean, look at you helping me after everything that happened to you today. So I’m thanking you. And…Zuko told me about what happened with that firebender. Katara,” A hand on her shoulder, “Are you okay?”
All thoughts screech to a halt and Katara freezes. Her fingers curl around nothing. “What did he tell you?” He couldn’t have…
“Not much!” Suki rushed to fix her mistake, “Only that you faced your mother’s killer, and you spared his life. Nothing beyond that.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders sag with relief.
“So how are you holding up?”
Good. Fine. “How is anyone holding up these days?” It comes out sharper than intended. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, I understand,” Suki looks at the ground, and quietly adds, “Believe me.”
Katara can do nothing but nod, and she feels an overwhelming sensation of guilt clog up her throat. It’s not her fault, she deserves comfort, she knows that, but it still feels like it’s not allowed. Katara is the shoulder to cry on; she should ask how Suki’s feeling, but Katara hasn’t got many words at her disposal now. She feels terrible for it.
“You know…” There are no more clothes to fold, just Suki of the Kyoshi Warriors and Katara of the Southern Water tribe sitting alone together in an empty room. “I envy you.”
Suki is visibly startled, whirling to look at Katara with wide eyes. “Me? I envy you,” she stops, “No, I admire you. I could never envy you.”
“Admire me...” Katara laughs, a bitter thing that sounds more like a scoff, “What for?”
Suki does not hesitate. “Everything I thanked you for, and more. I shouldn’t say this, but I wish the others paid you more attention. Or appreciation, I mean. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve met. I’m in awe of you.”
“Oh,” is all Katara can say, struck completely dumb like Sokka had come up behind her and whacked her over the head with his club. “Um.”
Suki giggles. “You don’t have to respond, you know.”
“Uh.” She has no words, so Katara ropes her arms around Suki’s (skinny, why is she so bony? She should eat more) shoulders and buries her arm in her cropped brown hair. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” She can feel the sting of cold from teardrops on her cheeks, “Thank you.”
She can hear the smile in Suki’s voice as she pats her back and rubs circles soothingly. “You’re welcome. You’ve had a long day. Get some rest.”
“Hey!” Katara pulls back and wags a finger at the older girl’s face. She doesn’t care about her puffy eyes. “I should be telling you that.”
Suki only sticks her tongue out at her, and it’s so contradictory of everything Katara knows about her that she can’t help but laugh. It’s astounding how much catharsis she has gained from this one conversation. Suki is surprisingly easy to talk to, and it feels like a barrier has been broken.
She’s glad she stayed leaning on that doorframe after Sokka left.
“I really hate this war,” Suki admits, “But I’m also glad you three decided to make a stop at Kyoshi island that day months ago.”
“Me too,” The moon’s glow illuminates the room in a dim shimmer, and Katara feels enriched in more ways than one, “How could I not be?”