AN: It's my birthday today and Memorial Day tomorrow so...you get two chapters with angst, sadness, and Zutaraness!
DISCLAIMER:
I don't own it!
CHAPTER 21: LOVE LOST
KATARA'S POV
Since that incident in the library, Zuko kept his promise...almost to a fault.
He would kiss me, but gentle and quick-no more of the searing, long kisses. He would touch me-but handle me if I was a delicate glass vase. His hand ghosted over my face, arms, or shoulders cautiously. He would not let me spar with him if I wore my undergarments, and he would politely avert his eyes when I wore them.
I longed for his comforting touch, especially today-my mother's death.
I woke up with a sense of dread and sadness. The sky was a pretty shade of light blue, which was my mother's favorite kind of sky. I glared at it with loathing. It should be gray and overcast and damp-to match the sadness of this day.
I slowly dressed and went out into the courtyard to make breakfast. Before I cooked, I touched my mother's necklace at my throat and whispered, "Mom, I miss you so much. You were a brave woman. I hope the spirits gave you peace and paradise."
My tears fell into the boiling water as I stirred.
ZUKO'S POV
I saw Katara, her head bowed and tears streaming down her cheeks. What happened to her? Was she sad? Why?
I approached her, gently touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly and looked at me.
I started at her appearance. Her tangled hair hung over her eyes, whih were red and puffy and swollen with tears. Her eyes seemed sorrowful and...empty, as if there was no hope this day. Her body was curled up, her knees against her chest and arms wrapped around herself. She looked fragile and broken.
"What's wrong, Tara?" I asked, deeply concerned. "Are you hurt?"
"No." she said simply. She threw the rice in and stirred.
"Tara, I know something's wrong. Please talk to me. Is it because of me?"
She shook her head.
"Are you upset or sad?"
She nodded, choking back a sob. I reached out and hugged her. "Tara, please, tell me what's wrong..." Katara shook her head and wept. I sighed softly and rubbed her back soothingly. I bounced her slightly, stroked her hair, and held her close to me. I whispered "it's okay" and "it'll be all right" in her ear.
After a while, her sobs slowed and she felt limp in my arms. She buried her face into my chest and whispered, "You're so comforting...how?"
I smiled and carressed her hair. "My mother did this to comfort me."
Suddenly, she pulled away and started to cry again. Her eyes were blazing with anger and pain, so full of deep emotions that I was surprised.
"At least your mother is alive!" she shouted. "Mine is dead! She was murdered today!"
It hit me. That's why she was so forlorn and sad. I started to reach for her, but she shoved me away. "Leave me alone!"
"Tara, please, love, let me-"
"Unless you can bring my mother back, go away!" she shrieked, tears pouring down her face. The rice was turning into soup, but she didn't notice as she struck me with her wooden spoon. "Out!"
I backed away and walked into the corridors. My heart wrenched as I heard Katara burst into agonizing tears.
Katara was crying all day and lashed out at any remark.
"Katara, this is rice soup...not rice. And why didn't you add soy sauce?" Toph complained bluntly. Sokka, Aang, and I winced, knowing what was coming. The others backed off, thinking here we go again.
"Well, I'm sorry I can't cook the rice the way you like it! Maybe if my mother didn't DIE today, you'd have your stupid perfect rice!" Katara snapped, tears trembling at her eyelids.
Sokka stood up and reached out to comfort his sister. "Katara, let's go talk."
KATARA'S POV
I know I shouldn't snap, but Tui and La! The reason I snapped at Zuko was because his mother was alive and he was a Firebender. I had no qualms about dating him, but it settled uneasily in my stomach that I fell for a man who came from the nation who killed my mother.
And his mother was alive-I felt envy growing in my chest. I wished I had the loving touch of Mom, her calm advice, her stories and legends, the way she could bring a smile to anyone no matter how angry or sad the person was, her teaching and lessons, even the way she smelled of flowers and snow.
Sokka led me into a private santuary. He had discovered it a long time ago and I was the only one who used it. He led me into the highest part in the temple, opened a door, trekked throught a straight path in the woods, and walked through a cave. On the outside was a roaring waterfall with lovely pools below.
What touched me deeply was an old painting my dad did of our mother, surrounded with twining flowers and a box of dirt. In this, Sokka took two incense sticks and lit them. Sweet smeeling perfume filled the air.
"Where did you get these?" I asked, as we bowed before Mom's portrait.
"Zuko. He said they were good for praing and meditation."
"Oh." I felt warmth trickle into my heart at his sweet gesture.
We said prayers. Sokka plucked a flower from his pocket. It was a white rose. "Mom, you've been wonderful. You brought light to our sky. I will never forget you. No one can. You are the best mother anyone can have. I love you. I know you found peace-you deserve it for your kindness and bravery." He closed his eyes as silent tears streamed down his face.
I knelt. I felt so many words I can say to her. My throat closed and I whispered, "Thank you for your sacrifice. It will not be in vain. You have the heart of a warrior, but also a heart of a mother. I love you."
Sokka and I sat in silence. I closed my eyes, remebering Mom's funeral...
My mother's body was charred. It was ugly, the opposite of herself. Her hair was loose around her face, wispy and falling apart, burned. Mom had pretty brown hair, so long and pretty that I wanted to grow my hair just like hers.
She was dressed in her wedding gown. It was white with flowing sleeves, a sash with woven shells, and a long skirt. I remembered touching it with reverence.
What killed me was that her eyes were closed. She Looked dead. She would never cook her famous sea prunes, smell the crisp air of the South Pole, laugh as we penguin-sledded, heal wounds with her tenderness, kiss Sokka and I good night, hug and kiss my dad, tell winding stories, give my brother and I advice, touch snow to fight and build a fort, never open her eyes...
Sokka and I clung together and wailed. Mom was in a coffin. Dad said words over her, Gran-Gran did too. The whole village did. But I never heard them over my sobs and thoughts. Dad turned to us. "Katara, Sokka, would you like to say some words?"
Sokka whispered, "Goodbye Mom."
I shook my head dumbly. I felt wrenching in my my chest. I could say so much about Mom, but my words caught in my throat.
Dad pushed Mom's coffin into sea as everyone sang a song of mourning and sending. I watched as the coffin bobbed and finally sank into the sunset.
AN: "wipes tears" Review!