This goes out to the Kataang Sky Castle at Distant Horizons, who really crave a story about Katara and Aang's family. So, this series was born! Seasons of Love will consist of one-shots, drabbles, sentences, multi-chapters, and the like, with emotions and situations and characters from every point of the spectrum that I shall update when ever the mood strikes me. Hope that everyone who reads enjoys this.  If the characters and my writing style seem a bit off then I readily apologize. I haven't really written fanfiction in a long while and I'm more than rusty.

I don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender. I only own this story's plot.

And as a warning, my chapter breaks are actual words, so don't let it throw you off. It's for my friend Lauren- she reads the computer with one of those really nice readers, and it's for her convenience and ease.


Title: Nothing Gold Can Stay

Updated: August 28, 2007

Main Characters/Ages: Katara (21), Aang (19)

Genre: Tragedy/Family/Romance

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of blood and typical daydream11 drama.


.030

Hurt

It's over

And I feel so alone

This is a sadness I've never known

How did I let the sweetest of dreams slip away?

And I'm afraid the hurt is here to stay…

(The Cheetah Girls, It's Over)


The first ribbons of light streamed in through the opaque curtains, kissing the faces of two intertwined. The man held his lover close, his face buried in her silky tresses. Her palm lay flat against his chest, smiling lightly in her dreams. He stirred once, twice, before his eyes fluttered open. They glanced around the room as if confused before resting on the lady in his arms, and he, too, smiled.

Sighing deeply, Aang gently removed himself from her and pressed his lips against her soft cheek.

"Good morning, my goddess," he whispered into her ear, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. She mumbled before turning over onto her back, and his eyes twinkled with adoration.

He washed and dressed, preparing himself for yet another day of Fire Nation politics. He took her hand and pressed his lips against her fingertips. "Promise me you won't stress out so much, Katara. I can't have you not eating and your beautiful hair falling out anymore. It simply won't do." He squeezed her hand and bent down to kiss her stomach. "I'll make it up to you tonight, though, somehow. Just keep your head on straight. Don't worry about me. I'll be just fine."

With a scribbled note he was out the door and down the hall to the Fire Lord's war room, as ready as he'd ever be to discuss international trade. It pained him to be leaving her alone for yet another day, but he knew that duty always had to come first, regardless.

"All stand," he heard a voice announce as he entered the room, Fire Lord Zuko sending a slight nod in his direction. The Airbender smiled warmly in return, greeting each officer in the room by name and with a question about their life in general.

"Alright, let's get started. General Fong, last meeting you were discussing of the alleged flaw in the trade system…"

rain

Katara yawned and sat up, smiling as she feels the ghosts of faded kisses. Brown feet pad lightly on the marble floor as she steps out of the large bed. The Waterbender slips a robe over her naked body, tying it loosely as she eyes a note on the dresser a few feet in front of her. Frowning and dreading its words, she tiptoes over and reads it anyway, ripping it afterwards. She groans in frustration and pushes the curtains open. The day is awake and busy, and she watches the many servants milling about. A couple of the servants' children wave at her, and she waves back, a bit jealous at their play.

She steps out onto the balcony, and peers down at the sundial. Ten on the dot.

"Perfect," she says to herself, sitting down on one of the chairs. A hand presses to her abdomen and she smiles.

"There goes one good thing about my day." Katara grins. "If I can't have your father, then at least I can have you. That's still great, right?" She laughs to herself and runs a hand over it. Her belly is still flat, though a bit raised than it was a month ago.

"Six months and then I can see you. Your father wants a daughter, just so he can have two ladies who look like me. I won't tell him because then he'll get all huffy, but I secretly know that you're going to be a boy."

She giggles. "What should we name you? How would you like to be called Nik? Or Aamir? He'll want to name you Gyatso, though. I wouldn't mind that; it's sweet. We'll tell you all about him when you're old enough."

She breathes in and folds her hands in her lap. "I just can't wait until you're here in my arms. I bet you'll look just like your uncle Sokka. If you act like him, though, I might go insane." Her blue eyes look out again, this time landing on the garden. "How about a walk this morning? That'd be nice, wouldn't it? Right now, though, we are in serious need of a bath."

Katara trudges to the oversized bathroom, pumping warm water into the bathtub. The robe slips onto the floor and she steps into the water, sighing contentedly as she sinks down into it. "Mmm…that feels nice," she murmurs. She picks up the washcloth and bar of soap that the maid had left for her and lathers, smoothing the soapy cloth over her skin.

"And it smells like cherry blossoms..."

sky

"So how's the wife?" Iroh asks him two hours later. The two were alone in the hall, the last people left after a trying negotiating session. Zuko had left as soon as the meeting was over, already late for yet another with the representatives from the Northern Water Tribe.

"She's amazing. And pregnant!" the Avatar says happily, noting the surprised reaction on his companion's face.

"Really?" Iroh replies, leading the two out of the room and down the hall.

Aang nods. "For three months now. It's her first, so we're both excited."

"Congrats, then. I'm happy for you two. A little child will do you both good," he said. Aang beamed, bowing in respect.

"Thank you, General Iroh. Right now, though, I better go find Katara. This is the first time in two weeks that I'm free before midnight, and it's prime time I spend some quality time with her. See you at dinner." He departed with a wave, racing down the hall towards his suite.

"Katara?" he called out, glancing around the spacious room. It smelled faintly of cherry blossoms and saltwater, the skeletons of her presence there. He breathed it in generously, eyeing a note in scripted cursive that was placed carelessly over his own.

"I'm out," he read. "Just follow the trail." Incredibly vague, and if he didn't know her any better he'd be utterly confused about it. Still, one glance outside the balcony windows and he saw exactly what she meant.

He rushed outside, ignoring the calls of various officials. Five minutes really meant fifty, and he knew that whatever they wanted to say really could wait until the next day. The gardens weren't far off, especially when he ran, and the grass felt warm under his feet when he finally got around to taking his slippers off.

The trail consisted of footprints in the soft dirt and a dusting of flower petals. He smiled slightly, picking up the blossoms for himself. He could use them someway to surprise her.

"Nature's first hue is gold, her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower, but only so an hour…"

rain

The water licked her feet, soothing them from the scorching heat the Fire Nation's early afternoon had to offer. She shed her outer layers, only leaving the underclothes she practiced in and stepped into the water until it reached her waist. Breathing in deeply, she started very basic techniques, being careful not to work her body hard. It felt nice, the simple stretches and movements, to be moving again. Too many days she had spent sitting around doing nothing, and she had felt completely lazy. The work she did, however minimal, still allowed her blood to rush and her legs and arms to feel conditioned. She left her middle alone, though, since her child was still in such a sensitive stage.

"Much better," she sighed, stepping out of the water. She sank onto the banks, snuggling down. "The sun, the water…" A breeze tickled her hair. "The wind…it's all so great."

"Isn't it?" Her breath caught in her throat as a familiar voice reached her ears. She closed her eyes as he sank down next to her, lying face down. She shivered as his breath tickled her ears, "There's nothing better than spending it with you."

Katara turned towards him and opened her eyes, searching his own stormy gray ones. "How'd you get out early?"

"It was a combination of running and…more running."

"You didn't jeopardize anything, did you? I don't want you to be messing with the world's politics just to spend time with me." Her caramel face was scrunched in ill-hidden concern.

Aang shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Katara. Trust me, whatever those officials had to say could very well wait until later. It's all about trade and whatnot. If it was truly important, they would have chased after me."

"Okay..." she whispered reluctantly.

"Hey," he sighed, leaning down and pressing his lips against hers. "Don't hurt yourself by worrying about me. You need to take it easy," he reminded her, pressing a gentle hand against her belly. The Waterbender nodded and ran a finger down the back of his neck.

"I know, I know. You're always gone, though, and when you do get in you either go straight to bed without even a 'good night' or you trap yourself in your study going over paper." She traced his face. "Aang, you have dark circles. They become darker with each day."

He looked away, her words turning into leaden shame in his heart. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are. I realize that it's not your fault, either, but can you…"

"Slow it down?" he finished.

"Exactly."

He locked eyes with her once more, lacing his hand through hers. "I'll do my best to."

"That's all I'm asking."
They sat in silence for a few moments, taking in each other and their conversation. Take a deep breath, he told himself. Relax and just enjoy her.

"So what have you been doing for these past two weeks?" he asked, shifting to his back.

"Nothing."

"Don't make me feel bad."

"Sorry. I mean, there's that massive library they have. That kept me busy. The servants' children are great, too; I spent a lot of time with those little munchkins. The city is outstanding, if I do say so myself. Sokka visited for a week, too, with Suki and I was around them for some of the time."

"Yep, I saw them, too. They're waiting to have kids, or so Sokka told me."

"Mmhmm…anyway, it's not like I haven't done anything, because I have. The Fire Nation has a lot to offer, turns out. There are theatres, temples, and I love playing with the city's children. Still, hasn't been the same without you."

"Then how about I take the day off tomorrow and we explore the city, just you and me."

"I'm not going to let you do that, Aang. You seriously need to work and it'd be stupid for me to take you away from it."

He laughed openly. "No, it'd be stupid for me to believe that General Fong's shipment of concrete for his fort's walls can't be solved without me."

The brunette giggled. "Can't he just remodel the walls with his team? It is earth, after all."

"My thoughts precisely!" He stood up, pulling her upright along with him. "Now tomorrow, we're sneaking out at dawn and not returning until dusk."

"Ooo…"

"Such naughty thoughts," he breathed.

"No, I mean 'ouch,'" her brown face scrunched together in pain, clutching her abdomen. Panic claimed him as realization dawned, and he picked himself up from he ground.

"Oh, no…" he said. "Katara, are you okay?" He mentally smacked himself as soon as the questions left him.

"No," she cried, now bended over in pain. "I think-"

"Don't say it," he pleaded, lifting her gently up off the ground. Silent prayers were lifted as he carried her from the garden. Her face was twisted in worry and fear, eyes searching his face for support. He gave her the best he could, his own features doused in the same.

I'm scared.

Aang steadily ignored the surprised, shocked glances of men and women in the palace hallways.

"Uh!" The gasp came from Katara. He gazed down in horror as his sleeves began to cover in a sickening coat of blood. He bit his lip and willed his tears away, cursing the gods for not giving him what he most wanted (needed!) at that moment.

He passed Iroh, too ashamed to meet his gaze. The older Firebender bowed his head in respect.

The Avatar hurried through the halls, his wife in his bloody arms, bursting into their suite.

"Set me down," Katara said quietly, resting without movement in his arms. He did as she wished, helping her stand. She took in a quick breath as the flow shifted direction, a dark puddle of blood slowly forming beneath her. The bottom half of her kimono was completely ruined, stained into oblivion.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "If I would have stopped working so hard, you wouldn't have stressed yourself out. I should have-"

"Aang, stop." He watched as her hand left her stomach and brushed away at the tears running freely down her cheeks. "It isn't your fault. It isn't my fault." Her voice was shaky and hardly audible.

He said nothing. She sighed and disappeared into their washroom. Following her, he saw as she stripped naked and sat down on the chamber pot. He winced at the drying trails of blood that streaked her legs, rusty red in color. She traced them, rubbing her fingers against the trails.

Katara spoke again, "Maybe this is a sign that we aren't ready to be parents."

"Katara, that isn't-"

"I think it is!" She choked on her words; her nose was running, adding on to her already-gruesome look. "Aang! You're always gone!" She was yelling at this point.

"I-"

"And I'm always stressing out! My midwife told me that this," she pointed to the disgusting trail of fluid left behind. She clutched the edges of the pot; the flow was coming heavily now. "She told me that this mess had a great chance of happening."

"Why'd you listen to her?"

The Waterbender buried her head in her hands. "I tried not to, Aang. I really did. But… it…" The sentence was left dangling in thin air. She said nothing more as her body shook with heart-wrenching sobs. He left the room, shuffling over to the window. Much of the day had gone by, Agni's sun beginning to set below the hills. He dropped to the floor and banged his head against the wall.

"Katara?"

"Yes?" She had calmed down some; he could tell.

"I…" The 19-year-old couldn't find the words.

What words?! Which words would be strong enough to say the smallest of things?

Tense stillness enveloped the room. He stood up and trudged back to the washroom. "Do you need any help?" he asked her. She was bended over, face squished into her lap. Her hair was splayed in every direction, a gorgeous blanket over a dirty bed.

"Just… space."

"I'll leave then."

She nodded in gratefulness. He left then, doing nothing but worrying after her. The Avatar wandered aimlessly through the wide halls, blowing off steam he didn't know he was holding back. His aimlessness led him to a considerable small hallway; dark and deserted save for the random maid that paid him no mind. He banged his head against the wall, relishing the dull pain that radiated through his skull. A metallic copper taste spread in his mouth, making him wince.

Aang slid down, still facing the wall and cried.

sky

Katara clutched the sides of the pot, doing her best not to cry as the last of her insides- the barely-developed child- left her. It slid easily and painlessly, if somewhat slowly, from her body. The Waterbender took deep breaths, doing her best to calm herself. This child was the only thing that kept her from slipping into slight insanity while Aang was gone for most of the day, and now what was it?

Gone.

Disappeared.

Lost.

Vanished.

Taken away from me.

She'd curse the spirits if she had the patience.

"A reason, all for a reason," she reminded herself. She gasped as the ball of fluid slid from her completely, landing at the bottom of the pot in a way that made her gag. She sat there, stunned and with no tears, feeling every bit as empty as the ordeal had left her. A hand made its way to her lower abdomen, her palms kneading it in gentle, firm motions.

She heard the soft click of a door opening, and once again, her husband was standing in front of her. Aang opened his mouth to speak, only to meet her eyes and choke them back.

Two steps brought them together, and she embraced his tightly, as if him, too, would go away forever.

"It's gone," she told him simply, her voice hard and cold. She felt him shiver.

"Clean up," he replied. "And wear your best white robe. We're going to go bury her."

"Him," she corrected, a ghost of a smile caressing her face. "Our baby was a him."

He sighed and trudged out of the bathroom, taking the chamber pot with him. He could easily obtain a new one, so he didn't think twice about leaving the suite with it in his possession. A few minutes going through Katara's sewing kit left him with a partially-finished blanket, personalized for who he knew was going to be their dau- son. His fingers traced the symbols of the Water Tribe and Air Nomads, woven together until they became one and the same. Pain sliced through him like a knife, and he quickly covered the pot with it and turned away before he could give himself the chance to cry again.

The Airbender kicked the sewing box and stepped towards his closet, rifling through it until he came upon his white robe, dusty and stiff from being stored away in long hibernation. Still, it felt light in his arms and loosely glided over his form easily once he had stripped of his former garments, something he was thankful for as he thought of all the dinners and banquets he had suffered through for several weeks.

"Let's go," a feminine voice said behind him, and he turned around to take in the vision in white that she was. Her hair was upswept into an effortless bun, her face was free of paints save for the sweep of balm across her lips, and the modest, long-sleeved robe that she wore was edged in crystal blue and hid the fact that she had decided to forgo any form of shoes.

"You look beautiful," he whispered.

"I feel awful."

He nodded in understanding. He followed her eyes as they made their way to the covered pot, watching as brown lids covered blue orbs as she swallowed the ache it thrust upon her. Aang picked it up and cradled it in his arms, motioning for Katara to lead the way.

rain

The moon was absent in the sky, leaving the far reaches of the palace grounds eerily dark. He handed Katara the pot and fathered a flame in his palms, which revealed a small group of bushes in front of them.

"Here," Katara mumbled, pointing to a soft patch of land in between the shrubbery. He nodded silently and bent down, unearthing a patch of grass before digging a decent-sized hole. The woman beside him placed the pot into it and whispered a brief prayer. Aang took her hand and squeezed it, only letting it go to cover the grave.

"Let's leave it unmarked," the Waterbender told him, surprising him. Noticing his shock, she added, "It's too personal to do otherwise, and not important enough for others to care. It's for us and us only." He did and said nothing except stand there with her, gazing down onto the patch in which their would-be lay in eternal slumber.

A breeze flowed through the air, ruffling their clothes. Katara turned towards Aang and wrapped her arms around his waist. He tucked a loose chunk of hair behind her ear and kept quiet, allowing the moment to take place without interruption. Mutual suffering and pain flowed freely between the two, biting into their souls.

"I don't feel well," she said a little later.

"I know."

"I feel so stupid."

"It's not your fault."

"I-"

"Shh…"

Silence.

The two stayed there, the minutes passing by, neither caring nor realizing that the night was leaving them and that Aang had many meetings in only a few hours. Katara fell into a fitful asleep, head in his lap and mouth traced into a frown, leaving him wide awake with a throbbing headache and his insides twisted into knots. He glanced down at his wife and loosened her bun, allowing the bounty of brunette locks to tumbled freely. She muttered incoherently and breathed deeply, before settling down again into the warm grass.

---

"…Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank down to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay."


That was fairly awful and choppy, I admit. Sorry. Still, I hope you enjoyed it even a teensy-weensy bit. Review, please!

"Nothing Gold Can Stay" is a classic poem written by Robert Frost. One of my favorites, actually.

XOXO daydream11