A/N: And now for something different, because fluff is hard to write for me. Tissue warning.
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any associated characters. Zara and Telon are my own invention, as is the idea behind this story.
With that said, please, sit back and enjoy!
Kiya cries in her sleep.
It's been a month, now, since -
Since -
Zuko can't even think it.
Kiya cries in her sleep, and Zuko doesn't sleep at all. Or cry, but that's another matter.
It's been a month since -
He still expects -
He didn't know it was possible to hurt this much.
If someone had told his fifteen-year-old self, exiled and shamed and feeling phantom burns on his face, that one day a waterbender would make him feel like molten daggers were being plunged into his heart, like every breath was a crime, like his world had ended… He would have told them they knew nothing of real pain and banished them belowdeck.
If someone had told his twenty-year-old self, crowned and proud and loved, that one day his wife would - that one day his children would -
Kiya cries in her sleep, and Zuko sits at her bedside, wondering how they are meant to go on.
"Mommy…" Kiya whimpers, curling in on herself, her tears staining her pillow.
Grief sits in Zuko's throat like a razor-edged stone, the kind Azula used to throw at him when he wanted to play with the turtleducks. He remembers one of them slicing his forehead once, how much it had hurt, and how much he had bled.
He wonders if Katara felt it hurt when the rocks crashed down on her. He wonders if Zara and Telon watched their mother die trying to protect them, if they suffocated, or if they died quickly.
He hopes they died quickly. Agni have mercy, he hopes they didn't feel anything at all, that death was as soft and easy as falling asleep for them. But Agni has no mercy, if he did, Katara would still be at his side, Zara and Telon would be sleeping in the next room, and Kiya wouldn't be crying.
"Daddy… come back…"
The whisper slices through Zuko like an ice shard. One month, and he's been so caught up in his grief that he hasn't reached out to the one person he has left, the one person who needs him the most. He's doing the very thing he swore he wouldn't, the very thing he was always so afraid he would.
"If you keep fearing yourself, it'll become a self-fulfilling prophecy, Zuko. Your children love you. I love you. Trust in that. Trust that we won't let you become Ozai."
He can hear Katara's words in his ears as if she's standing beside him, that warm, serious, passionate expression in her eyes. She knew him better than he knew himself, forgave him when he didn't deserve to be forgiven, matched the storm within him with her own, tempering him, grounding him.
The moon breaks out from behind the clouds, sending silver slight streaming through the window and across Kya's bed.
Maybe Katara is with him, after all. What must she think of him now?
Zuko sits on Kiya's bed gingerly and pulls her head onto his lap, brushing her hair away from her forehead. She shifts slightly, and he murmurs, "I'm here, Kiya. I'm so sorry…"
"Apologies only hold worth as long as there are ears to hear them," Katara would say, and he will spend a long time apologizing to Kiya for this.
The words of Katara's favorite lullaby come mind, bubbling out of his throat unbidden. "Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee, all through the night…"
Kiya's breathing slows, and Zuko wonders if she can hear Katara's voice under his own like he can. He cards his fingers through his daughter's hair, continuing to sing softly. His voice isn't as raw as he feels and he thinks maybe it's because Katara's with him, giving him strength.
She was always so much stronger than him.
"While the moon her watch… is keeping…" Zuko's voice cracks on the second verse, and a tear rolls down his face. He remembers the nights he cried in Katara's arms, her gentle hands stroking his hair, her gentle words healing him. Where is his healer now?
Moonlight streams into the room, and between one tear and the next, between one verse and the next, Zuko sleeps.
A/N: The song Zuko is singing is "Ar Hyd y Nos," a Welsh folksong with English lyrics written by Sir Harold Boulton in 1884. It references God and angels in one (unmentioned) line, but pretend that's been changed to reflect Water Tribe mythology. Thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Please, leave a review!
