A/N: So. I had this plot bunny. And then it turned into something completely different…of a sort. I've suddenly become rather fascinated with the whole Oma and Shu equals Katara and Zuko theory lately. So, this one-shot was spawned from that theory. A bit.
I'm not entirely sure if I like this one-shot or not. It's so weird and uncharacteristic and the writing just isn't that good. The best part would have to be the last two sentences, I think. Other than that, it is TEH SUCK. I'm sorry in advance for this…thing. Meh.
Disclaimer: I do not make any claim to own or be affiliated with Avatar: The Last Airbender. I am just using the characters for a weird post-war Oma/Shu story. So don't sue. 'Cause that would really stink.
Nightmares
Nineteen-year-old Lady Katara, wife of the Avatar, Master Waterbender, mother of one, sister of the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, was not sleeping on this hot summer night. One might have said she had a terrible bout of insomnia—but she didn't think of it as that, necessarily. It wasn't a case where she couldn't go to sleep. Rather, she didn't want to go to sleep.
Because if she did, then she would have The Dream again, the one with the mourning Earthbender woman turned insane with grief. The one where she didn't just observe all that happened, she saw all that happened through mourner's eyes. She felt all the grief and suffering and anger—it was their entire fault, all their fault, and she had to punish them—it was their fault that he was dead.
Katara shook her head, her hair sticking to her already sweaty skin. It was so hot—why did they have to be in the Fire Nation during the summer? Why did Aang have to order a meeting between the Rebels and the Royalists now? Why couldn't they be in the southern Earth Nation, resolving smaller conflicts than outright civil war?
She wondered, but her mind gave her no answer. And so she stood out on the balcony of the Fire Palace where all the past Fire Lords had lived and ruled and died. There was no Fire Lord now—Aang had killed Ozai and Azula in the last battle of the Great War, and Zuko had died at the hands of his own comrades. She had not grieved much—only Aang had really known Zuko. But that had caused this whole catastrophe. The Fire Nation, in want of a new leader, had split into two. The Royalists wanted to appoint a noble as the new Fire Lord, but the Rebels wanted a new kind of government. Katara didn't really understand the whole issue and didn't really care, either. It was not the civil war that scared her (well, somewhat), but the vivid dreams she had been having since their arrival in the Fire Nation.
Not really dreams. Just one. The Dream.
It scared her badly—she'd never dreamt it before, but then she dreamt it every night, and it got worse and worse as the days passed. She hated the Dream, wished it would leave her alone. But it wouldn't leave her.
So she tried her best to avoid it. She refused to sleep tonight. She'd snuck away after Aang had drifted off to sleep and had come to this serene balcony overlooking the sleeping Fire Nation capital city. Katara had never told Aang about the Dream simply because something told her not to—she hadn't told him, and she didn't regret it. Aang already had the world to take care of, let alone his delusional wife.
As the warm air swirled around her and the hot night dragged lethargically on, Katara stared up at the sky. The stars seemed to twinkle brighter than they normally did. Before she knew it, she was falling into the stars and the sky was splitting apart around her, bringing her to a different place. She knew where she was going. The Mountain, where her lover was waiting for her.
She mentally smacked herself. It wasn't her lover waiting under the Mountain—it was the crazed Earthbender woman's. Except she was the Earthbender woman. Strange. But it was so familiar—it was the Dream. She had fallen asleep.
She found the entrance to the tunnels and Earthbended her way to the center. In a great cavern, she sat, and she waited. She waited for hours and hours, but her lover never came.
After waiting for what seemed like days, she tunneled through the rest of the Mountain to her lover's village. She was a pathetic sight: a mad woman, searching desperately. Have you seen him? Have you seen him? The people did not answer her. She was below them—she belonged to the other village.
Fie to you, witch. Your earth magic cannot protect you. If only you weren't a woman, then I could run your cold heart through with the steel of my sword. Leave, woman. You are a disgrace.
Her tears came silently as she pleaded with the villagers. Please, where is he, where is he?
At last an old woman had mercy upon her. Poor girl… You are looking for him? Don't you know, he died two days ago…
What? What? Dead? No!
And it was then that it reached the worst part—she summoned the earth, screeching with mad rage. You killed him! Your accursed pride killed him. If only there could be no war… Then lovers would be free to love.
The world faded out to a new scene. Katara saw herself adorned in red, a smile on her face, her lovely child that somehow wasn't hers in her arms. Dear Spirits, dear Spirits, what is happening? Who is that? It's not my child…
And then a man in red armor with short black hair—she couldn't see his face, for his back was to her—greeted Katara's other self and the child, the beautiful child that was and wasn't hers. He's the father, Katara told herself. He's the father of that child.
She saw this happening, and she couldn't stop herself from crying. What she saw touched her heart—the tears came fast, cascading down her cheeks and dripping from her chin. The scene faded to black and she saw endless darkness—someone spoke to her.
Something went wrong… I was supposed to live and you were supposed to love—but you do love, just—you were impatient. You didn't wait, did you? You didn't wait. This isn't how things are supposed to be. If only you had waited, but instead you married, and you forgot… This wasn't supposed to happen.
Katara woke with a start. The words of the mysterious voice echoed in her mind. You didn't wait, you were impatient, you forgot… This wasn't supposed to happen.
She didn't sleep for the rest of the night.
All the next day, Katara seemed distant to her husband. When he tried to kiss her goodbye before attending to some important matters for the day, she shied away, withdrew from him. She murmured something under her breath that Aang couldn't hear. It concerned him, but the leaders of the two factions of the Fire Nation people were waiting for him to lead negotiations. There was a country to fix, a war to end… How he wished he didn't have to be the Avatar sometimes. It was too much of a burden.
He squeezed Katara's hand. "Are you okay, Katara?" Katara nodded and put on a weak smile. Aang grinned goofily in return. "Be sure to tell Asa I said good-morning," he said, planting a tender kiss on her hand.
Aang left his wife to attend to their daughter—the torn Fire Nation finally had hopes of mending itself together once again.
Katara watched Aang scamper off to the negotiations; her face remained impassive. She strode without a purpose back to her quarters, to wake her daughter—my child, this is my child, not the child that I saw in the vision—she cupped Asa's young, sweet face with all the loving affection of a stranger. My child. My child. You're my child. You are and you aren't and I don't know what to think anymore—I'm going insane—I'm hearing voices in my head! Dear Spirits, please help me.
She lifted Asa gently into her arms and sat down on the end of Aang's and her bed—it was covered in red silken cloth, shiny and alluring. Only the best for the Avatar and his family—but why did it matter? Katara saw the red cloth and it reminded her of blood. She embraced her child lightly, sobbing into Asa's blue shirt. Asa looked nothing like Katara—the eyes, the mouth, the nose, the facial structure—it was all Aang's. My child, you are my child… The Dream was coming back to her, haunting her—she had to punish them, for they had killed the one she loved—
Asa burst into tears, but her mother didn't hear the child—Katara's eyes had shut and she had fallen into sleep, into dreamland, the place of her nightmares.
It was the same dream sequence as the night before: she tunneled through the entire mountain, begged to know what had happened to her lover. Then, the merciful woman—the insanity from grief—the need to avenge her dead.
But then—then something happened that Katara didn't remember from before, from the Dream. She calmed slightly. You will stop this, foolish people. There will be no war. I will not allow it.
Katara's vision flashed white and a voice whispered in her ear as a picture of a grave appeared in her mind: Why didn't you wait for me, Oma? I've waited and waited, but you still haven't come…
Katara's eyes snapped open. She was lying on the bed, writhing. Moving. She stopped, realizing that she had been moving her body without realizing it. She hadn't been in control. It had just…happened. Like with the Earthbender woman.
She inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself. Asa was sleeping peacefully by her side. Katara took the child and tucked her back into her small crib. Then came the contemplation.
The Dream—it had gone farther this time. The Earthbender woman had calmed herself and declared some war over. Not the Earthbender woman—Oma.
Wait. Oma. Where had she heard that name before…?
Of course. The Cave of Two Lovers. Where she and Aang had almost kissed for the first time. How could she forget?
But it turned out wrong. He wasn't supposed to be there with you… You were supposed to wait. You didn't wait for me, Oma. Why didn't you wait for me to come?
What? The strange voice again. Spirits, this was getting stranger and scarier by the minute.
Spirit—person—whoever you are—please leave me. You haunt my dreams and I cannot rest. Please, merciful one, leave me to peace… Let this war inside of me be over. I am not the person you seek, Katara thought to the strange voice.
…You didn't wait for me, Oma. But I've been waiting for you. Won't you please come and at least say hello? Even if you don't love me anymore…please come.
The image of the gravesite flashed once more before Katara's eyes. The grave was granite, located in a beautiful garden right underneath a cherry tree in full bloom. Engraved on the gravestone and embossed in gold letters was a simple epitaph: I lived and I died, but I shall live on. Underneath that message was a name that was indecipherable.
Just as quickly as it had appeared, the image disappeared.
Please come to me, Oma, for I have been waiting for so long.
Katara took in a deep breath. I'm not Oma.
Oma, have you forgotten and forsaken me already?
She frowned, feeling somewhat awkward. I—fine, I'll come. Will you please leave me alone afterwards? Will you make the Dream stop?
…I have been waiting for so long, Oma.
Katara breathed in sharply, standing. Her feet were not her own—they took her through the hallways of the Fire Palace, down a flight of stairs, and into the gardens of the Palace. In a small, hidden-away corner of a smaller garden, under a cherry tree in full bloom, laid the grave that she seen before.
Strange, she thought, I thought the Fire Nation always cremated their dead.
She knelt down, eyes skimming the epitaph, and then read the name below it—
The name hit her like a lightning bolt: Zuko. As she read his name, she remembered everything—the badger moles, the tunnels, the war, the city, his real name—Shu.
I tried to come as fast as I could but you wouldn't wait for me. Why didn't you wait for me, Oma?
Tears streaked down Katara's cheeks. She placed her hand to the grave. It was fitting—no Earthbender was meant to be burned.
Why didn't you wait for me, Oma? Why?
"I'm so sorry, Shu."
Nothing but cold, empty silence responded. Katara collapsed on the grave and wept.