Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar.
Here is the latest addition. Thanks for reading and please review.
"The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together." –William Shakespeare
Life has a way of being bittersweet, even at its fullest moments. When their son had been born, Aang could not have been any happier. For the first five years of their son's life, Aang knew nothing but joy with his son and beloved wife. Katara was the only woman he could ever love with such a passion and loyalty. Somehow he knew that it could all come crashing down upon them, but he did not hold onto such foreboding ideas.
Instead, he lived life. Aang had his duties as the Avatar, but also as a husband and father. He had his friends, he had the world. Aang thought that such joy could not last forever.
And it did not.
There came a time when his small son died….
He believed himself to be the cause. He had not been there to protect him!
Now, as he stood over his son's marker, only months later, flashbacks merged before his eyes….
"Dad! Look at me!" Hi son cried excited. The child had just performed his first feat of bending…
"Uncle Sokka says I act like seal-penguin! Is that true?" The boy stated annoyed with a wrinkled brow. Katara came over and soothed her son's irritated feelings….
"Dad!" He cried joyfully, jumping onto his dad as he came home from a month long absence…
His son's eyes looking at him when he first held him in his arms….his first word….his first steps….
Aang opened his eyes and felt the tears come freely down his face. Katara did not blame him. He knew that. She tried to act as if everything was alright…but it was not! Aang remembered learning how Iroh had lost his son…
The war had taken lots of sons, he supposed. But why in a time of peace, did his son have to die? A sob became stuck in his throat that made him sound like he was choking. A warm hand touched his shoulder comfortingly. Aang turned over to see the understanding eyes of his wife. He took her into his arms and cried on her shoulder. He held onto his only anchor against the tide of grief.