Zutara Drabble #5
All standard disclaimers apply...
He's lost without her. Taken away by the tidal wave of hurt feelings, only to fall into a whirlpool of guilt and pain.
He misses her; that much is true. Everyday, he sits by the window, watching the sun rise and thinking of her. She never was one to love the sun…
His uncle tells him that he should think of the good things, that he should remember the happiness that he had with her. Zuko digresses, naturally. He doesn't want to remember her, not at all. He is desolate without her, lying in his bed, making patterns out of cracks on the walls.
He knows that his uncle is worried. Mai even comes by, but it's only to tell him to grow up and forget the stupid peasant. She will never have what it takes to love him, and Zuko knows this, and he knows it well.
Now, instead of rising with the sun like he used to, he attempts to rise with the moon, just to know that she could be awake, wherever she is. Sometimes he misses her so much that he can almost feel her, almost hear the whisper of her hair moving.
But she's not here. And she left him, left him here to rot, and all because of a misunderstanding.
He wishes that he could explain, although he knows it would be hard for him, hard on his pride. He would not say he was sorry, or any such demeaning things (though he was sorry), but he would say… something.
What if she had stayed with him? Would she be here with him today, would she be his Fire Lady?
Zuko closes his eyes against the flawed world, his scar a red slash against a white canvas.
She wonders why she left him. She wonders, truly, why she had to leave, why she just couldn't stay and be his wife. Katara looks around her, staring up at the moon that her firebender had seemed to detest so much.
A niggling voice asks her if he detested her, and if that was why she left. She dismisses it, still staring with almost innocent eyes up at the moon that is her savior, her friend.
She cannot remember if he somehow knew, if he saw when she tried to give him those subtle messages that she was unhappy. She doesn't remember because she doesn't want to, doesn't want to think about her lost lover.
A question coalesces in her mind, making her stop and think for a second, making her take a moment to steady herself on the ice of her homeland.
When did Zuko stop being my enemy, and start being my friend?
She wraps her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together, trying to keep the broken shards of his words from embedding themselves in her already shattered heart.
Her eyes close, unwillingly, and for a moment, she is simply a waterbender, simply a girl. Better to be a girl then a betrayer, better to be free than to be bound by the ropes of his ever-present love.
He sits there alone, alone on the terrace that they had once shared. His eyes follow the tiny traces that proved she had once been there, the brush on the table, a hair tie that she carelessly left there. Though she's been gone for what seems forever, he keeps the terrace off limits, so no servants are allowed inside.
Dust collects on the table, but he leaves it, just so he can see the tiny imprint of her fragile hand upon the mahogany wood.
He stares at the table, walking over to fit his hand over the small handprint of hers. They don't fit, of course, but he knows that they won't. They were different people, from very different places.
Zuko stares at the handprint for a bit, reminiscing about a time when he was free to love Katara, free to be himself and simply be.
Finally, his head falls, cushioned by his hands. The rain begins to fall, but Zuko doesn't care. He is too wrapped up in the sheltered haze of his grief.
Because life isn't always rainbows and butterflies...
The rain falls on the ice, splattering softly onto the fallen waterbender. She cries, and her body is wracked by the giant sobs that come from deep inside her chest. She cries for the tainted love that she lives in, for the tradition and honor that keeps them apart, but mostly, she cries for Zuko.
Her heart hurts, and she tries to bury her face in her knees, trying and failing to keep herself intact. Trying to keep the shards of his broken vows from piercing her like the sharpest daggers.
She looks up, her blue eyes clear and heart-breakingly innocent. Somewhere in her heart, Katara wishes that she and Zuko could be together, to laugh together once more.
Somehow, crying in the rain, that happiness seems an unnatainable nirvana.
She grinds her face into her knees, failing to keep the images of a happy past from entering her miserable and bleak future.
She cries, lost in a sea of loneliness and unfulfilled needs. Her sobs are muffled by the fabric of her blue robe, but still, somehow, somewhere...
She wishes that Zuko would hear her.
Zuko wanders through the unfamiliar lands of the Earth Kingdom, not taking anything in. Of course, he sees the scenery, and on some level he appreciates it, but he has sunk too far into his depression to truly see it. His eyes are glazed, and he seems almost... lifeless. He hears a bell toll in the distance, and as it peals, he remembers Katara...
She always laughs when she's with him, always smiles. When he grabs her from behind, she giggles, which only serves to augment his happiness...
He smiles at her, a rare occurence as he buries his flawed face in her soft neck. He hears her gasp in protest, but he continues, inciting spontaneous moans from his lover. This time, he's the one smiling...
They walk through the gardens, hand in hand, water and fire. As they sit down together, they share a glance, a glance that crosses the boundaries of tradition, and the duties of their seperate nations. It is a glance that surpasses even themselves.
They lie there, Katara's head on Zuko's shoulder as they watch the sunlight dance upon the water of the pond. They smile as the soft light hits the pond just right, creating a beautiful shimmer of light. Their hands find each other's and clasp, each clinging to the other.
As they watch the sun and the water, they are content knowing that their relationship is intact, if not for a lifetime, then just for that moment.
Zuko pauses. He turns, thinking that he hears something familiar, something that evokes a hopeful chord in the music that is his soul. He turns, his eyes searching, searching, for what he isn't sure.
Then, he finds her.
A shocked expression dances across his face, making his scarred eye open so far that it almost hurts. The pain is forgotten, however, for she is finally there. Thinking that this must be some cruel joke, he walks to her, slowly, ever so slowly. When he is a mere six inches away, he reaches out a shaking hand to touch her, touch the mirage that is his Katara, after all those years.
She smiles, tears in her eyes, as she holds out her arms to him, loving as ever. Zuko, to his shame, feels his heart leap and constrict, but he ignores it, and crosses the inches that separate them to envelop her in a warm hug.
It is a hug that breaches the years, surpasses the tears and lonely nights. Zuko buries his face in the soft waves of her brown locks, taking a deep breath of the sweet scent that is, without a doubt, Katara. She buries her head in the crook of his neck, her tears warm against his skin.
They stand there, silent, for no words are needed in a bond such as theirs. Their bond crosses any tradition, any barrier, anything.
They can handle it all. And now, they know it.
A/N: This is a drabble that I wrote because one of my lovely reviewers wanted me to write one where they met again. XD Well, I hope this one's good enough, 'cause it's LONG. ish. For a drabble, I guess... o-O
Well, R+R, as usual.
EDITED. Sorry, I caught the crappiest typos EVER. Ugh, horrible redundancy. Thanks to avatar fan on LJ for telling me...
Su-Su