Zutara Week Day 1
Prompt: Calor
Summary: Heat. Heat is all he has left.
One doesn't need stellar hearing to hear the roar of pain that echoes through the castle. It is an anguished sound, filled with raw fury that can only come from bloodlust or passing of a soul mate.
Heat passes through the castle as the entirety of the flames leap into the air. Blazes grow a million watts brighter. Several of the cooks drop dishes as flames leap up around their hands. Dishes that are already in the pit burn and the smell of acrid smoke flood the surrounding hallway and rooms.
In a small dimly lit room in the belly of the castle, a haggard aging man lays crumpled over a slim white haired beauty. Warm saltwater leaks from his eyes and drip down his crooked nose. They splash off her chest and roll down to the cotton pallet beneath her.
His lanky frame shakes with savage sobs and hands rush forward from all angles to pass some semblance of comfort to him.
An aging bald monk is the closest to him and he wraps slim arms around him. A slimmer blind women pats his back awkwardly, and a much older women dresses in warrior ware is weeping hysterically.
The elderly man slowly picks himself up and staggers into the waiting arms of the monk. The others swarm around him and wrap arms of support under him. Slowly they converge and converge into a group hug.
He tilts his head up slowly and he smiles a watery smile at them. No matter how cold this death had left him, he still had them. A system of heat and family that she integrated him into.