My first try at a tragic romance.
The ending is happy though... sorta...
TO ALL OF MY READERS: the newest chapter of Save Me From the Pirates is almost done! I owe you guys so many apologies D:
I'm so sorry for making everyone wait so long! *bows deeply*
Please enjoy... well, if you're into this kinda thing... the ending is my favorite part
Zuko stepped lightly over the dead leaves in the winter forest. They crunched and crumpled under his feet, dead remains of what was once beautiful.
The sky was darkening and the moon was rising swiftly. Zuko slowed his pace and gazed upwards. There were no stars.
No, no stars, and no snow. No leaves in the shivering arms of the trees, and no warmth in the swift wind.
The Fire Lord looked down and sighed softly. He had come to this forest once before, with Katara, and they had walked hand in hand under the starlit heaven. He missed her so much… then suddenly looked up again.
Something caught his eye.
He walked toward it with an inexplicable urgency, as if it was pulling him toward it. As he entered a clearing he caught a glimpse of beautiful, dark, flowing hair, waving softly and slowly in the air, as if played with a hidden current. The hair was attached to a skull, a human skull, which in turn was attached to a human skeleton, white and bare as polished ivory.
No… he thought. Oh gods, no…
"Katara?"
The skeleton turned to face him, a human face fading onto the surface of the skull, confirming his answer.
Zuko stood in shock.
Dead? Katara had been… dead? There was no other explanation. Her necklace rested on her collarbones, her clothes covered the bones, and Katara's face looked sadly at him, attempting to smile, but with tears dripping out of her eyes.
The rest of herself faded onto the bones.
So. She was a ghost, then.
Zuko had never been frightened of ghosts. Azula tried many times to change his mind otherwise, telling him stories in the dead of the night and leaving suddenly, playing tricks such as ordering the guards to hide bones under his blankets, or pretending to find a human finger in his hair, but she gave up eventually. It mattered little: there were other ways to annoy him. Zuko had never understood why people were scared of them, unless they had been cruel to it before it had died.
And he didn't understand, even now. The sight of Katara's corpse was heartbreaking, and the sight of her tears made him feel sick to his stomach. He approached her and she stared up at him, silent, even as he sat down next to her.
"Who did this to you?" he asked, sadness and anger (and, for some reason, remorse) threatening to spill out of him in the form of tears. One escaped.
Katara leaned into him and he embraced her, not flinching when he felt her skin, colder than ice, both of them crying silently.
The moon gazed down sadly at them, his mouth still as ever, for no one had given him words to comfort the two.
Katara pulled away after a few minutes, and Zuko noticed that in her hand was a blue rose, one perfectly preserved inside crystal. He unexpectedly smiled, remembering how he had given it to her the day before she had left.
Be safe, he had said to her, pressing his gift into her hand.
I will… oh, Zuko, this is beautiful! Thank you!
Oh… haha, well, I'm glad you like it. He had grinned goofily, he remembered.
I'll treasure it forever, she had sworn. Then, she left, boarding her small ship by herself, sailing off into the sunset.
She saw him looking. Her translucent mocha face smiled at him, but the smile dissolved quickly.
Aren't you afraid of me? She inquired. Many had seen her bones and had run away, frightened. Not a single one would bury her.
Zuko shook his head. No. Why would I be? You look beautiful, just like you did when I last saw you.
Katara smiled at this, and laughed a little, blushing. You lie. The dead are not beautiful.
Then I guess you are the exception. What happened to you?
She looked away from Zuko, as if ashamed. Zuko clasped her hand. The skin was fading, and her bones were more visible, more prominent, in her appearance.
If the dead wish to keep their secrets, then I shall not pry.
At this she shook her head violently, and seemed to take a deep breath, steadying herself.
With shaking hands, she released Zuko's and showed him a hole in her robe that he had not noticed before. It was stained with blood and… Zuko's eyes hardened.
Someone had cut out her heart.
He nodded once and looked away.
I knew you'd be ashamed of me. She said quietly, but her voice did not accuse. Zuko whirled around.
"I would never be ashamed of you, Katara. I never have been and I seriously doubt that I ever would," he said aloud. Her face faded back to bone, as did the rest of her.
Even if I had broken a promise? She asked. Before her love could answer, her hair and what was left of her ghost skin was swept away by the wind as dust.
Stunned, but only for a heartbeat, Zuko stood. "Even if, I would still love you," he swore. There was no answer.
He heard Katara sigh and looked up.
She sat in the boughs of a tree, with her back against the trunk. The white bark contrasted with her translucent dark skin, which was streaked with forgotten sobs. She began singing softly, mournfully, a song of the dead.
I've been dead for so long that I've forgotten what it's like to breathe,
I've been dead for so long that I've lost the sight to see
Into the souls of those who lie to me, who try to use me;
Shatter my tears into glass and forget my last plea
Forget my last plea…
Who would ever avenge the dead because of superstition?
Who would ever walk the paths of past, for fear of premonitions?
And tears flow
As things go un-revenged
Doomed here to show
What it's like around the bend
Of death…
…
…
I don't believe in revenge although many others do
I don't believe in shedding blood more than the hell has due
For what use does that do us? Ghosts with mem'ries light as dust
We think of the things we treasured while alive, like love and trust
Just like love and trust
For each of us left here, a white tree is planted, and each of the leaves is a dead mem'ry
Doesn't matter if you're poor, or young, or of the gentry
And tears flow
As things go un-changed
Doomed here to show
The consequences of emotion's range
And pain
She did not look at Zuko as she ended her song. Her profile remained motionless as she stared at the moon.
I am dead, Zuko, she said. I cannot breathe anymore. Neither can I dream, or eat, or talk like you do. My voice is heard in your head, but my ears forget what it sounds like. And I wonder who deserves remaining here, an illusion of the soul, as a ghost.
Zuko looked at her.
"Why do you remain?"
Her sapphire eyes widened, and then softened.
It's not like you to ask so many questions to me, least of all concerned ones, she joked.
So, the dead can joke.
I broke my promise, Zuko. I promised to stay safe. Look at me now.
I said that I would die with you. My word was as good as a promise.
Now I cannot fulfill it.
And I also as good as promised Jet my love.
But then I promised it to you.
Let me go, Zuko. Let me leave this earth.
"Then go," said Zuko. "I cannot and would not stop you. I release you from your promise." He was confused. Katara shook her head.
I want my heart back, Zuko. Would you find it? And once again, before he could answer, she disappeared.
Honestly, it would be polite to wait, thought Zuko, smiling inside for a brief moment, then touched by frost.
The wind grew steadily colder, pushing him toward Ba Sing Se.
Then he realized the magnitude of her request.
Finding a human heart in a city of that size could take a while.
Unless… what did Katara say?
I also good as promised Jet my love, but then I promised it to you
"JET!" Dammit, that arrogant, Fire Nation-hating (well, that part couldn't be blamed… as much), smirking, smug, selfish, idiotic, cruel murderer!
The wind blew harder, pressing him on. While Zuko wasn't looking, the wind tied a strand of hair on his ring finger, tight enough to not fall off, but loose enough for her beloved to not feel it. Yet.
It actually wasn't that far to Ba Sing Se.
But Zuko reached there quickly, anyways.
Knowing that his face was easily recognizable, he drew his dagger and undid his ponytail, cutting it. His locks hung shorn at his shoulders, and he styled his hair to the side.
That way, the un-scarred side of his face was visible.
He also donned a hat and hunched his shoulders. His cloak hid his uniform.
Ba Sing Se was busy as always, even though it was winter.
But, instead of winter, it seemed more like autumn.
Well, the world was allowed its share of quirks.
Zuko had no problem finding Jet. It seemed that he was pretty well known.
The rich usually were.
"Jet." His voice was filled with contempt and hate, anger and grief.
The lanky man looked at him disinterestedly.
"And who might you be?" he drawled, bored and irritated that this man would dare talk to him like that.
Zuko walked closer.
"One who has come to take back what is his to deliver," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, a fact Jet overlooked.
Oh, brother. Another one? Just because he was rich did not mean that he would willingly give money to anyone threatening-looking.
Even if he was brandishing two Dao swords…
"Look, just because I'm rich does NOT mean that you can just walk in here and try to take my money!" he said, irritated. He was starting to really dislike this stranger.
"I don't want your money," said Zuko, trying desperately to keep his anger under control. Anger was an unstable force, and if he wasn't careful… there could be dire consequences, and Katara might never be released.
"Where is the heart of Katara?" Jet froze, losing his cool.
"What did you say?" he asked, shocked.
"Where is the heart of Katara?" asked Zuko, this time more forcefully.
"I don't know."
Zuko narrowed his eyes. Oh, how he hated liars.
The dark room's single window let in very little light, but Zuko made the most of it as he ran and jumped toward the murderer. Jet was prepared with his hook swords ready by his side. They fought briefly, each sword having its own opponent, neither winning nor losing.
Finally Zuko pinned Jet's arms and tossed his weapons aside; his own were crossed at Jet's throat.
"Give me Katara's heart," he growled. Jet snarled at him.
"No! She promised her love to me, and then she left me for a stupid, stuck-up Fire Prince. I have no intention to give it up!"
"Fire Lord," scowled Zuko. "Give it to me, or else I will cut off your arm," and as if to prove his point, one sword began biting into Jet's flesh.
It was enough to draw blood.
Zuko applied more pressure. Still Jet stubbornly kept silent.
So, Zuko tried a different tactic. He slashed at Jet's chest.
A thin line appeared to the right of his heart.
He slashed again.
Now there were two lines, with the heart between.
Zuko was impressed: Jet had an extraordinary resistance to pain. But when he slashed a third time, Jet's eyes betrayed him. Zuko swiftly knocked him out and made sure he would not bleed to death (much as he would deserve it). The wounds would scar, but he would live.
Zuko followed Jet's eyes as well as he could in the dim light and found her heart in an ornate, mother-of-pearl covered box.
Her heart was in it: most would find it disgusting. Zuko found it beautiful.
He returned to the clearing. Katara's bones remained pitifully on the log.
Zuko knelt by her skeleton and called out.
"Katara…"
Her ghost applied its lucent mocha skin onto her skeleton. She smiled, not asking how he got it. Which was good. Zuko didn't want to tell her. She took the heart and pushed it into her chest, where it went in, slow as molasses, but longing to be inside her where it belonged, though it would never beat again.
She offered Zuko her hand and they embraced once more, sharing a single kiss, before Katara dissolved into the wind for the last time.
Epilogue:
Zuko returned to the Palace and buried Katara in the garden facing the sea, deep enough so that children of the Royal Family (including their own) would not dig her up, but not too deep. She was given a private funeral, one where only her friends and family attended. The guards had had to remove several reporters by force, but other than that it went smoothly (or as smoothly as possible when one of the greatest and kindest Masters of Bending in the history of the world who was also a Hero of the War passes away).
The ground was soaked with tears that day.
The sweetest scented red and blue flowers that anyone had ever encountered grew plentifully on her grave.
Jet did not come.
Zuko died in his sleep soon after at the young age of thirty-four. Iroh was given the title of Fire Lord until Zuko's and Katara's children were old enough to rule. Their father was buried next to their mother.
The two heroes of the Great War were said to have met in Heaven, and their likeness was carved into a statue and placed in the Palace. More songs and stories were made about them than there previously were.
No one ever knew the true story, except for Sokka, who wrote the story down, so that none would forget the truth.
It can be found in Wan Shi Tong's Library.
FOOTNOTES:
1. Yes, I said that the moon was a 'he'. Yes, I watched the entire series. I know Yue turned into the moon. Don't hate. :3
2. Yeah, the characters are kinda (and very, depending on the scene) out of character. I apologize, but... I did this in four hours. ^^;;
3. The song that Katara sings goes to a similar melody of Evanescence's Breathe No More with a touch of Holding My Last Breath.
4. No, this wasn't a songfic.
5. The fight scene sucks. I know ^^;
6. Am I being snappy? I'm sorry! I'm just making sure that everyone is clarified on this, because I don't need anymore "But what about..."'s
7. Zuko and Katara had kids, but I did not name them because honestly, their kids annoy me (because in every other Zutara fic with children included as a side-order... bleah. If you wrote one, I apologize (I haven't read them all, there may be a good one out there), but just in case anyone was wondering about that)
8. The legendary Zutaran graves face the ocean where the sun kisses the ocean everyday. That's kinda symbolic, y'know? :D
Thanks for reading, reviews and flames saying "OMFG THIS SUCKS QUIT WRITING BUT UPDAAAAATE!" are welcome ;D
*hugs to everyone as thanks and apology*
Oh yeah: I do requests. If you're tired of me writing Zutara, suggest something to me! I take any and all suggestions (unless its a lemon/lime. I don't go for that)
SHOUTOUT TO: Robert! Hahaha possibly the best boyfriend ever :)
Even though he probably won't ever read this.
The (FINALLY!) end :)