A/N: Avast! :D Despite the very piratey greeting, this chapter will not be about pirates. Sorry if you're disappointed. :) This has nothing to do with the canon of The Legend of Korra, since I thought it up a long time before I knew the details of le spin-off. (But still, isn't Korra just amazing so far? 8D)

Disclaimer: Nothing copyrighted is mine. Period.

Slices of Ocean Kumquat

Zutara Week 2011

Theme 6: Legendary

"Good morning, my lady."

"Good morning," greeted Katara, smiling at the guard before pausing at the edge of the low step leading into the garden; for a moment or two, she stared out at it from beneath the awning sheltering the now empty corridor.

It was a gorgeous spring day, a breeze sweeping through the garden, carrying the perfume of freshly cut grass and sweet Fire Nation flowers. Despite the sun shining down warmly upon the city, Katara did not feel at all hot in her white Fire Nation robes. When she had first become a member of the royal family – the Fire Lady, to be exact – she had found the heavy red robes repulsive, and insisted upon wearing cooler clothing, including an assortment of formal Water Tribe outfits. However, time had made the thicker robes less of a bother, and she had managed to adjust to them quite well – if only to be more respectful.

She swallowed as she stepped onto the short stone path. This was a smaller garden, built close to the heart of the palace, and was very beautiful, indeed. The path was formed with firm, round cobblestones, and lining it on either side were ribbons of water, upon which floated delicate, pale flowers at various intervals. Being a quiet atmosphere, it was easy to hear energetic butterbees darting amongst the flowers spotting the lush grass. But Katara did not pay attention to these; she kept her eyes downcast, feet taking slow steps on the path. Clop, clop, clop…

At the end of the path was a structure consisting of six white walls, in the shape of a hexagon, a roof like that of a pagoda sprouting from the top, red and elegantly carved with inlaid patterns of gold. Around it bubbled a timid stream, surrounding the structure and connecting to the slips of water hugging the cobbled path. She ascended the three steps leading up to the entry archway of the structure, eyes floating up to rest on the wooden clock above the doorframe – as they did each year.

"So it's time…" she whispered to herself.

Katara willed herself not to shed tears as she removed her shoes and stepped inside, hands rising to clasp at the level of her chest. In she went, and the luxurious red of the walls and the heavy scent of incense swallowed her whole. It seemed as if it was another world in here, sealed off from everything and everyone else, the sound of the stream far away like a distant echo of ages long passed. But she did not mind the sphere of serenity she was enclosed in, for years of this had made it all too familiar. Circular windows without glass set high into the walls let in pure morning light, easing the thickness of the exotic fragrance given off by the incense, which was burning in stout brass cups at each point of the hexagon and curling slowly into the air like misty lavender fingers. But stationed entirely along the walls were glowing lamps of pale gold fire, almost white, like tiny fat fireflies hovering against the walls. On either side of the archway, small rectangular mirrors were hung on the walls, reflecting the simple curling patterns decorating the opposite walls. A smooth rectangular carpet ran over the bare marble floor from the lips of the archway to a stone assemblage at the end of the room.

A few meek steps on the carpet and she turned to stare into one of the mirrors – as she did each year. She watched her slouched frame straighten briefly when she drew in a deep breath, inhaling the rich smell of the room. She lifted a puffy hand, creased with leathery wrinkles, to her friendly but aged face, feeling her rough fingers touch the frail skin of her cheek; the bright, divine hazel of her skin had paled over the years, somewhat muted yet still present. The river of chocolate locks that used to tumble down her shoulders, like the water she masterfully manipulated, was now a waterfall of thin grey spray, light and wispy and quite neat in a traditional Fire Nation hairstyle, only the occasional braid to show for her original heritage. She had weathered many seasons, and so many things about how she looked had changed, but if there was one thing about her appearance that had stayed the same, it was her pair of strong-minded, kind blue eyes which still echoed the deep blue of the sky as they had ever since she was born.

They had seen so much, but had not changed.

The waterbender turned away from the mirror and lightly trod over the soft carpet, to Zuko's stone memorial at the other end of the room. Katara already knew that the clock, outside, had struck the hour – the very hour that he had moved on to another life, leaving his memory behind with her and, of course, the many hearts who had admired him greatly. Robes rustling as she stiffly knelt down, Katara ran her eyes along the memorial. A wide frame of dark marble, covering that one end of the hexagon, enclosed a bed of delicate white pebbles, with a smooth cylinder of the same charcoal-coloured marble rising up to a height a few inches above Katara's kneeling height. Zuko's name had been expertly carved into the stone in slanting calligraphy.

His ashes would be buried within the structure… Katara's hand flew up to cover her mouth, but it could not disguise the sob that shuddered past her throat – just like it could not each year. His ashes… One minute, he had been alive – sweaty and slowly fading, but still alive – and then he was not. And shortly after that, she was watching Fire Sages set his lifeless body alight at a solemn funeral in front of the public eye… After this process, all that was left of the Fire Lord, her husband, her friend, was an urn full of ashes. The tears streamed down her face, tiny sobs sounding from behind her hand – each year since his death, she could not fathom why this particular detail, this particular wound, seemed so fresh every time. She had gotten used to her heavy Fire Nation robes, the walk up the path to the shrine, the ticking of the wooden clock, the incense and the mirror and the globes of fire lighting up the room…

So why? Perhaps she was afraid of her love for him lessening, crumbling into the same ash – even though she knew it never could. He had told her himself.

The fire was burning low among the mass of ashes in the fireplace that threatened to smother it. At least it did not give off a great amount of heat, for his skin was fiery like the flames he could ignite in the space of a second. But he was too weak to produce any fire, and his condition had worsened gravely, continuing to do so without any sign of stopping. The Royal Family's doctor had told her so a few hours ago, but she had kept the information from Zuko; she had a feeling that he knew exactly how bad his health was, and if she repeated it out loud she was not sure if she could bear it. Katara had always been a realistic person, but this reality was too shocking for her, had the potential to send her crashing down from her stance of composure.

As another shot of pain twisted inside of him, making him gasp and tighten his hand around hers for a split-second, she pressed her cool palm against his forehead. "Shh…" she crooned gently, trying to calm him to the best of her ability. He was shivering crazily, no doubt feeling colder by the second, but on the outside his skin was coated in damp sweat and searing hot. Her hand pushed back the sticky black hair from his forehead before slipping to his cheek, caressing it sweetly; his eyes closed, breathing steadying.

The end was rapidly approaching, and it destroyed her to know that his last few moments would not be peaceful.

The children had left the room a few minutes ago, well aware that it would be the last time seeing Fire Lord Zuko alive. But they had been so kind, so wonderful to him, that she hoped it would be a good last memory for him before… Katara swallowed, face creasing as a tear rolled over her eyelid and down her cheek. Another sharp intake of breath startled her out of her thoughts, bringing her back to the chamber in the Fire Palace, where Zuko was trying to relax his face out of a pained expression as he surveyed her, eyes shining with sickness in his starkly pale face.

"K-Katara…" he murmured through trembling, cracked lips. He swallowed thickly, trying to speak to her; immediately, she pushed her chair closer to the bedside.

"What is it?" she asked, trying to stop her voice from hitching. "Are you cold?" Automatically her hands worked to tuck the layers of blankets closer around him. "Here, drink some water…" she went on, lifting a glass of the lucid liquid off the bedside table and holding it to his lips as he took a sip. "You must be thirsty – shouldn't you have some more? A-And the doctor…" She had to pause when a sob threatened to crack past her throat. "The doctor really should be here – where is he? You might need some medicine-"

"Katara-"

"-and he needs to administer what food you need-"

"Katara, h-hold on. Please-"

"-or maybe soup, or something? That seems fine-"

"Stop, Katara."

"I… I could… I could get…"

Zuko gazed at her with worry, shakily grasping her hands and holding them tightly to his chest, pulling her closer to him as her lips shook. "It's okay."

The tears were flowing from her eyes, dripping onto his hot cheek. "No, I'm sorry… I-" But she did not carry on, for a sob that had been building inside of her since the day his health had worsened finally tore from her and into the open. She began to cry heavily, chest shuddering uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, Zuko," she kept saying between sobs.

"Don't cry," he whispered softly. "You don't always have to be strong, y-you know." He managed a thin smile, only resulting in more tears welling in her eyes as she nodded roughly.

"Okay. Okay, I… I need to stop…" she said, still nodding to herself.

"Please, Katara. I… don't want to see you like this before I die."

And the words that she had been dreading for so long now were finally spoken. It was like a constricting chain had been sliced away at last, a weight lifted from her shoulders – but not pleasantly. She stopped sobbing, the tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She was met with the reality of things, soul pierced by it – yet it made something important very clear to her. She looked at him, then, arranging her hands so that she could hold onto his firmly, with a grip of certainty. It was important to her that she be strong for him, even more so because he wanted her to be strong for him too – even though he did not say so. There was nothing else she could do, she discovered, nothing that could save him. But she could at least be there for him, as herself, give him one full, bittersweet moment together before he left.

Someday she might reunite with him.

"I love you, Zuko," she whispered to him, giving him a weak and watery smile. "Don't you dare forget that."

He chuckled. "I won't. Ever. Y-You know why?"

She shook her head, lowering it to rest her chin on his chest, looking up at him through her lashes as he looked down at her with bright golden eyes. "Why?"

"Because I love you too." He grinned as his chest shuddered, yet more pain making him convulse. "And you a-and I…" he drifted off, as if he was forgetting what he was about to say.

Katara's eyes widened fractionally in distress, but she hid it by hoisting herself up to press a kiss to his flushed, moist cheek. "Yes?" she ventured, voice threatening to crack against her will. "Zuko, what were you going to say?" she asked in a strained, breaking voice, pulling back to look into his eyes. "Zuko?"

He blinked slowly, trying to chase away the fog that was seeping into his gaze. "Katara… You and I… W-We have a special love – extraordinary… I," he paused, smiling even though the fog was slowly consuming his eyes, "I know f-for sure it's gonna last…"

She felt him pull his right hand out of her grip, bringing it to her soft brown hair, stroking gently. "You think so?" she asked with a sad smile.

"Sure. I know s-so… Because…"

Her chest was resting against his, and she could feel the dull beat of his heart against the building thrums of her own. "Because," she said, swallowing down a sob.

Zuko gave her a hazy smile that she would remember for the rest of her life. "Our l-love…" He gave a faint chuckle as the fog occupied his eyes. "It's the legendary kind of love."

That was a moment Katara would never forget – the moment his hands grew limp, the moment the breath died on his lips, the moment the fire went out of his eyes, the moment where she stroked his face and traced his scar and wept… The moment where, from then on, she could only feel her heart beating, alone, not in tandem with another.

Perhaps it was because she was afraid of her love for him changing – but it could also have been because she still loved him. The large amount of years that had passed since then did nothing to change her feelings towards him. The many events that had taken place did nothing to alter her character. Many would have called it irrational, a strange thing for a person to do after their loved one had long passed… But she did not care. She did not expect those people to grasp such a thing, as it was quite peculiar that she herself had done so without question. Either way, she felt it anyway – of course, she did not let it stop her from living a life, among her children and friends and different relations. She had accepted it, but that did not mean she had to stop loving him and him alone.

Her appearance may have changed, and his hand may have grown limp in hers, but their love for one another was something that would not change and would not slip away and slacken – it would transcend time. It was and always would be, as he had said, a legendary kind of love.

A/N:

Thank you for the alerts, faves and reviews - I really appreciate them. :)

I hope I didn't lay on too much of corn in this chapter, but it was nice to practice more of an emotional type of thing.

Thanks so much for reading!