I was feeling a little sad today and after I watched 'Legend of Korra,' I imagined it wasn't easy for Katara to lose Aang. So, in loving memory of the once lively avatar Aang, I present this short fan fiction full of untapped angst. It could be a Zutara, I guess, but not necessarily. I'm not in a very romantic mood. Still, I hope you like it so, please review? Thanks!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own ATLA or any of the characters or locations mentioned in this fan fiction story saving maybe Zuko's secretary and valet. Otherwise I only own the plot.
She was standing alone again.
It seemed to be happening more and more often lately and Zuko was getting worried. It had been a full year since the Avatar had passed on and Katara was not taking her grief well at all. He was never any good when it came to weepy females, but she wasn't just some weepy female. She was the one woman in the whole world with whom he connected more than he ever had with Mai. Nobody else who was alive now could call him a battle weary cranky old man and get away with it and none of them would dare.
He heard her sigh and watched her whitening hair dance in the wind, gently lifted and swayed as it wished. It was so reminiscent of Aang. He had grown up like the rest of them and had his children, but he had always maintained that child-like quality that never failed to warm his friends whenever they were together.
He had passed on and now, a new Avatar would be born into the world.
While his generals discussed that with much gusto at the funeral, he had noticed the hurt in Katara's eyes and chased them away with a stern warning. He hurt when she did and her looking like a helpless wounded animal didn't help matters much. It would help if he knew what to say, but when he had lost Mai, he had been beyond help. She had helped him get through it somehow, but for some reason, he couldn't remember a single one of those words she had spoken so he could offer comfort.
Now she had come to Republic City in the hopes that she could finally lay her grief to rest. That didn't seem to be working very well for her however.
He stepped out onto the balcony and stood beside her looking out over the city. They had come a long way from when they were children, battling his father and trying to bring peace back to the world. It was funny how fast the years went by.
"What are you doing out here? I'm sure your secretary is going mad trying to find you," she said with that smile that never reached her eyes.
"He can do without me for a few minutes," he said with a chuckle. His secretary had been hounding him every few seconds trying to get him to sign this paper or meet that elite person. It was for the greater good, but with age, one tended to like a slow moment every now and again.
"I feel like he's still here sometimes. Do you remember the day he took us all boating together? Toph wouldn't let him relax for a moment and Sokka kept laughing..." she said with a weak laugh.
"It's okay to miss him Katara. The pain is there and you don't have to deny it. If uncle were here, I'm sure he could give you some complex riddle about it, but I'm useless at that."
Katara sighed again and he saw the tears brimming in her eyes as she looked at the statue. Katara felt the pain every day. She had for the last year and she didn't like her children to think she was weak. Not when they needed her to be strong. The pain was still there, but dull, manageable. At least, she had thought so until she had come back to republic City for the first time without him.
"You never cried, did you?" he said gently as she realised she was in his arms. It had been a long time since she had been held and she sank into the glorious warmth of his strong arms. She shook her head and met his gaze now blurred with unshed tears.
"I miss him so much," she whispered clutching his robes as the first tear slipped free, then another and another. Before long, she was crying into his chest pouring all her pain and hurt and anguish from her burdened heart.
Silently he ran his hand up and down her back and let her cry. His valet would have a fit when he saw the mess she had made of his robes not to mention the fact that his secretary would be lecturing him once again on his responsibilities. Perhaps he could persuade both to take life the Iroh way and relax a moment.
He rested his hand on her head and looked up at the sky with a sigh of his own.
"You don't always have to be so strong Katara. Sometimes, it's good to show a weakness. It's what makes us human."
Her sobs had died down and she now sniffled and nodded still clutching his robe. She laughed a little and looked up at him with a smile on her tear-streaked face. He couldn't help but notice how her eyes sparkled when she did and he felt his heart grow that much lighter. A few tears still fell and Zuko reached up to wipe them away.
"How was that for a battle worn, cranky old man?" he asked gently.
"Not bad Sparky," she replied hugging him again and using the nickname Toph had given him so long ago, "not bad at all."
