A/N: A little history: Last week ago, the three sisters lived together, under one roof but eh, not really in harmony. But then, everything changed when my little sister put on an Avatar marathon. Only my twin, master of teen angst felt the need to write a fanfiction, but when I asked her why, she vanished (she went to her room to go right it), then, one week passed and my twin sister showed me a video, an angst video about the fire nation prince. And while her story is totally awesome (Cooliochick5, look her up) I still want to try my own hand at it. But I believe, mine is my second fanfiction for Avatar.
Previously: On unnamed story: This first part kinda goes along with the song 'Safe and Sound' by Tailor Swift: Warnings? Angst and my craziness.
This letter had been written many times, if not hundreds of times over. Each time it had been burned, and watched as the flamed slowly licked away at each carefully thought out, but not correct sentence until every line had been burned away. A new paper would be taken out, and another letter would be written. It had to be perfect, none of his quickly falling tears could smudge the ink. Every word had to be written correctly, every thought had to be printed the way it was thought or else it would be considered useless to the holder.
This letter began the same way all of the other ones did before they had been burned. It did not begin the way most letters did though. Not with a greeting, or with a name, but with a title. It was plain and simple. The letter began with a simple title. His title...
Uncle...
The writer of the letter had stopped for a moment and he thought, which was very difficult for him to do with everything that could possibly be thought was now buzzing around in his head like a swarm of bees, making his thoughts cloudy and pained and trying to stop him from writing this letter. He had to though, he had to write this letter so that his uncle would know why. Why he had to do this, and why he was sorry for it. He knew what he was doing, he knew it all to well, but he just didn't know how to put it to words. With a deep breath drawn, he dipped his pen again, and began to write a story. The story he chose was just as simple as the title that began the letter... The letter began with the story of a man during the last celebration of his life... A funeral.
The man in the casket would be a familiar man. Not a made up character, nothing complex like that. That man would be his uncles only son, the one who had died when the prince was just 11 years old...
'I remember tears streaming down your face that day when I said, "I'll never let you go"... That day when all those shadows finally killed his light...
I remember you said, that we couldn't leave him here alone... I never knew what you meant... I'm sorry... I lied when I said-'
He paused yet again and covered his mouth with his damn hand to keep in a particularly dry sob as he called back the memory and desperately tried to remember all that had happened all those years ago. Specifically, what he had said to the man, what a small child had said to a grieving older man. He bit his tongue in regret when the words were pulled back to memory.
'Everything is going to be okay...'
That is what he had said. As a stupid little 11 year old, that is what he had said and now as an adult, he questioned himself. Why had he thought such a thing... Why did he say it... When he knew it wasn't true and the more he thought about it... He knew a lot of things were not true. Like what his uncle had told him, the night of his banishment.
"Just close your eyes... You'll be alright." His voice sounded foreign and unwelcome to him.
All thoughts aside, he wearily looked up from his letter and blinked his teary eyes in an attempt to clear them. It was still dark out from what he could see, meaning it was still the dark hours of the morning, still hours before his uncle would wake up, giving him plenty of time to slip away.
But he hesitated, his hand still gripping the pen with a harsh force as he thought over the chain of event he knew would be set off if he completed the letter. He wiped his eyes and began to write again. He didn't know the exact hour, so he guessed it and wrote it out the way he saw it fit. Something poetic, that he thought his uncle would like.
'Come dark of night...' With a final puff, and a final tear wiped away, and a final dip of the pen. He finished the letter.
He didn't finish it with a signature, no he refused to sign his name. He felt that his own name would dishonor the letter. He ended it however, with a lie.
'You and I will be safe and sound...'
It wasn't a complete lie. His uncle would be safe without the constant threat his nephew carried with him. The threat of every nation and the threat of his own existence. Placing his pen down, he blew on the letter, so it would not smudge as he closed it, and quietly under the cover of darkness he slid into his uncle's room.
He was still sleeping soundly, unaware of what was happening in the world around him. The opposite of the young prince as he laid the letter beside him and left.