characters: hakoda, katara, kya, sokka.
notes: the prince of egypt au no one wanted.
…
no sleep in heaven, or bethlehem;
—mama who bore me
…
It's inexplicable.
Her arms tremble with strain even after she rests the basket in the rushing water as if they can sense the absence of such a familiar burden.
Not a burden, she chastises herself swiftly as she kneels in the dirt. Kya draws her fingertips through the water, watching the ripples. Never a burden. Her eyes flutter shut at the sounds of mirthful laughter babbling from tiny lungs and she can't help but smile sadly. Kya had expected to find relief in the knowledge that she was going to do this, but the wide glitter of Katara's eyes and the prickle of her laughter in her ears easily rips through her wildly, in a way that only makes her want to gather her baby girl up in her arms until it all heals up inside.
"Katara," she croaks and Katara answers with a squeal, her tiny fists raised. Kya notices the way that the water underneath the basket sways in dangerous alignment to the motion of her fists.
She grasps her tiny wrists, frowns when she can feel the pulse of control, the tension of gravity like the moon is pulling at her blood. Kya tucks the blanket tighter around her, pulls it up to Katara's chin, and tries to smooth out the wobbly line of what she thinks is a smile.
Katara stares back from her safe haven, round blue eyes darting back and forth between the contradictory emotions of her mother's face and the little boy plotted down in the silt of the river, plucking at the reeds.
This is it.
Kya chokes on a sob and the little boy catapults his reed carelessly into the receding line of the water to wedge his way into his mother's lap. The gesture emanates compassion, as though he already feels the responsibility of taking care of her on his shoulders, even though his attempt is weak at best.
She breathes in deeply, tries to smile at the warmth of her son against her. She'll always have Sokka and she should at least be grateful for that.
"Bye," Sokka whispers quietly as he folds his hand in an imitation of a wave, and Kya lifts her head to see the currents carrying the basket away from the edge of the river.
Panic rises in the center of her chest and nearly smothers her as she cries out, "Katara!" She pushes Sokka from her lap and jumps into the water, her feet squelching in the riverbed before she propels herself forward. She can hear Sokka crying out for her but it seems like a distant noise as she treads haphazardly, leaping forward to try and grasp the ends of the basket floating away.
But her commotion has attracted attention from the other side of the river tributary, because a flame skims just over the surface of Kya's head, lands with a burst of heat and air in the foliage on the other side. She hears Sokka's yelp and turns back to see him scampering away from the concentrated blast of heat.
Kya is stuck between responsibilities, between her daughter and her son, and she feels herself shrinking back under the pressure. She wants Katara, she can feel the ache in her womb for her daughter, but she cannot sacrifice Sokka.
I will not. So she shrieks her surrender, praying that Katara has drifted away far enough, hoping that she can distract them. The two guards wade over the distance, moving swiftly as Kya is coughed up into the smooth sand and crunch of reeds under her knees.
Sokka kneels in front of her and presses himself to her body, ignoring the fact that she's drenched in water. "I love you," she says as she tugs him closer. The uncomfortable bundle in her throat breaks up as she tries to swallow her tears, but fails. "Run."
She pushes him into the tall grass and watches his eyes widen and tears fill the creases before she lets out a shocked noise, the sensation of pain blossoming down her spine.
She falls forward into the muddy soil and grass as Sokka runs away and she can see the guards' feet poised near her and she whimpers as they grab a fistful of her hair and yanks her into a kneeling position.
"What are you doing, filth," the guard spits at her and she feels dirty on his words alone. But all Kya can think about is Katara, floating peaceably down the river, full of waterbending power, and Sokka, running through the woods until he reaches their small village. She grits her teeth together with that in mind.
"I," her voice shakes and she coughs to clear her throat, "my baby," she mumbles just loud enough for them to hear, "I didn't want my baby anymore."
The guard with her hair tangled in his fist tilts her back painfully and looks over her face before he laughs and thrusts her back into the ground. Kya digs her nails into the soil, trembles as she tries to steady herself.
The two guards seem to be aware of a joke that Kya misses as she shakes the mud off of her hands and gets to her feet, edging away from them. One guard elbows the other, grinning and whispering something that makes her cheeks burn with shame. She doesn't hear it, but the way they turn to look at her conveys more than words could.
"Next time," a guard pipes up, seemingly ignorant to the way Kya's eyes follow the shoreline, "you ought to keep your filthy legs closed. Get back to your village." His eyes linger in the dangerous way and it takes Kya a few seconds to process before she's darting back into the brush, hoping that Sokka has found his way back to the village safely by now.
Kya stumbles down the dusty path in front of their small tent and it's Sokka who sees her first, dirt-caked fingernails thrown in the air at the sight of her. But Hakoda pulls the little boy into his arms before he can run off, carrying them over to her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and it feels good to be steadied, so she leans into his broad chest.
"She's gone," she says with a hollow concavity to her voice. Hakoda's lips form a thin line and he nods his head curtly.
"She's safe," he reminds her with a gentle kiss to her forehead.
…
notes: this whole story is dedicated to bean and shannon for encouraging bad ideas, socks and yin for unnecessary (but vastly appreciated) support. last lullabies are depressing. and slightly overrated, i have a bad track record with lullabies. prepare for baby zuko point of view. also, vast apologies, this whole multi-chaptered epic thing is new to me.