seen from Argentina
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Austria
seen from United States
seen from Puerto Rico
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Ireland
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
Can you feel the angst tonight?
Zuko's thumb caressed her knuckles gently, her hand tucked firmly in his as they marched forward; every step taking her one step closer to goodbye.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11202681/chapters/49152710
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I’m not yours to protect anymore Aang,” she reminded softly.
Metanoia Chapter: 389 – a drabble fanfic by darkelf19
My Luke. RIP 3/9/19
I love you baby. Wait for me by the Rainbow Bridge.
Zutara with any or all of these prompts: Careless, Denial, Satisfaction, Bittersweet, Little White Lies, and Tenderness. Hope these help ya!
Title: Of Pride & Prejudice: A Zutara Story Rating: GType: 3 Sentence Fic ChallengeSummary: A Zutara / Pride & Prejudice story inspired by paintedfirelady’s art post.
~*~
Denial
Eyes narrowed, he watched the arrogant woman sashay her way back into the throng of dancers, their obligatory introduction over.
Irritation strangled his calm resolve, tempting him to chase after her and drag the bothersome peasant into the rowdy mass of bodies she dared to call a dance.
Not that her jest bothered him - of course, a gentleman of his rank could dance – but the self-satisfied smirk she wore every time she caught him staring left him peculiarly conflicted.
~*~
Bittersweet
Propriety demanded certain expectations of him and he’d acted without hesitation, offering his hand as she’d climbed into the carriage.
He had not considered the consequences of his actions; had not been prepared for the electrifying sensation her soft fingers had left against his palm.
Stretching his hand he tried to escape the ghost of her tantalizing touch, however, it remained, seducing him.
~*~
Careless
He’d been careless.
A man of his station, a prince of the greatest nation in the world, could not fall in love with a peasant, and yet he had.
Despite her clear inferiority, he’d offered her his world; the sting of her brutal rebuke still paralyzed him hours later.
~*~
Little White Lies
It was a foolish, inexcusable plan to keep her near that would only prolong his self-inflicted misery and yet he’d extended the invitation before he could think better of it.
He assured himself it was merely etiquette and that his offer had nothing to do with the way his heart beat desperately in his chest; her smile held no sway over his heart anymore.
It was a lie of course.
~*~
Satisfaction
Something had changed between them; an almost imperceptible shift and he fell for her all over again, though part of him knew he’d really never stopped falling.
Hope flourished, breathing life into dreams he’d thought long dead and he dangerously wallowed in them, savoring the bittersweet agony of this courtship as he tried desperately to keep her near.
He smiled, marveling how easily she filled his heart, his soul; her presence acted as a medicinal balm, soothing the pain he’d carried since that rainy day he’d helplessly watched her walk away.
~*~
Tenderness
Little more than a year ago, on a cold rainy hillside, pride and prejudice had cost him the woman he loved, leaving him with a gaping raw ache he’d thought he’d take to his grave.
Silhouetted in the early sunrise, that same woman now stood before him offering him the only thing he’d ever truly desired – her heart.
His hands shook as he caressed her cheek, part of him half convinced she was just the figment of yet another dream he would soon wake from; her eyes fluttered shut as he lowered his head, pressing a light kiss to her lips, with the promise of many more.
Koh.
Fire Lady
My contribution to Zutara Week. Tried a different idea for the theme after reading several recent posts about Zuko & Katara bonding over their mothers being a strong plot point in ATLA and I wanted to go back and touch on that.
Post of firsts for me in this fic. Never written a slow-burn or hurt/comfort before so hopefully I didn’t butcher it too badly. Can also be found on FF.net & AO3
https://www.fanfiction.net/u/456590/J-Merritt
Day One: Fire Lady
She stared at the elegant crown; three flames carefully crafted from thin gold. Delicate filigree had been carved into the surface and in the center sat a single flawless ruby. It was beautiful.
“It was my mother’s.”
Katara jumped, nearly jarring the pedestal in her haste. “I was just-, it was so-, I didn’t mean-“ she trailed off lamely at Zuko’s knowing smirk. Wordlessly he joined her, removing the precious heirloom from the glass case. The sunlight caught the gold as he moved, bringing it to life in a way it couldn’t behind the thick glass.
He hesitated a moment, eyes trained on the gold crown, seemingly lost in thought and she knew he was remembering his mother. She touched his arm lightly, bringing him back to her, and offered a small smile. She knew his pain; she understood. He returned her smile, although it didn’t quite chase away the ghosts in his eyes, before handing the crown to her.
She cradled the precious heirloom in her hands, knowing it was as important to him as her mother’s necklace was to her.
Her fingers brushed over the delicate filigree, noting the fine craftsmanship. Each stroke had been expertly placed to create textures for the light to reflect. She shifted her hands, marveling as light caught in the uneven grooves, creating the illusion of dancing flames in her hands. It was a breathtaking work of art.
She turned slightly, allowing the sunlight to catch the flawless ruby, and the crown came to life. Brilliant reds glistened over gold, sinking into crevices only to burst free moments later. It reminded her of a sunrise, bursting over the horizon in a shocking moment of beauty.
It was truly a crown for a queen.
Suddenly she felt self-conscious. It felt wrong that she, a simple peasant, should be holding such an exquisite jewel in her hands. Peering beneath her lashes, she stole a quick glance at Zuko. He hadn’t moved during her careful examination and again wore that far-away look he often wore when he thought about his mother.
She offered him a sad smile, handing the precious heirloom back to him. “She must have looked lovely wearing this. It’s beautiful.”
Zuko nodded, accepting the crown as he was pulled from his reverie. “She did.”
Silence settled between them, but this wasn’t the comfortable silence between friends she was accustomed to. Unconsciously her hands tugged at her hair. It was a nervous habit; one she wasn’t even aware she had. To Zuko it was endearing.
He had the incredible urge to run his fingers through her hair, to let the silky strands slip through his fingers. He imagined the dark locks pulled into the elaborate style the noblewoman preferred, twisted around his mother’s crown. It’d look stunning against the gold and red. Temptation pulled at his fingers, urging him to reach out and pin the crown to her head, to tell her here and now exactly what she meant to him. Instead he ignored the itch, turning to place his mother’s crown back in the case with a heavy heart. His finger lingered on the glass a moment, remembering the woman he’d lost, envisioning a future with the woman he’d found.
He blinked, realizing there was something dangling in front of his nose. It smelled of leather and oil and…Katara. Shock jarred him from his thoughts as he realized what it was. Slowly he lifted his head. Katara had moved, now standing before him, her arm outstretched and from her fingers dangled her most prized possession.
He’d held that necklace once before, long ago when he’d stolen it from a young girl. He hadn’t known them what it meant to her. If he had he never would have taken it. Zuko knew all too well the importance of a mother’s keepsake.
She reached out, taking his hand in hers. The simple contact made him catch his breath and he prayed to Agni she didn’t notice. Turning his hand over, she placed the necklace in his hand.
He understood what she was doing. He’d allowed her to inspect his mother’s crown, knowing full well that to him it was more that just a crown or heirloom. Like her necklace, it was the last connection to a loved one taken much too soon. It was the memory of a mother’s love and a moment of peace and security, before their childhood’s had been ripped away from them.
His fingers traced over the carving he’d memorized years ago. Every line, every etching having been seared into his mind in perfect detail. He’d had a lot of time to waste on that old ship.
Zuko suddenly realized with perfect clarity they’d had this conversation before. They’d started it long ago, in a crystal catacomb beneath Ba Sing Se. “The Fire Nation took my mother from me.”
“I know.” He didn’t realize he’d spoken the words out loud until she’d answered him. She gave him a sad smile, parroting the words of comfort he’d offered all those years ago. “I’m sorry, that’s something we have in common.”
She was in his arms before he could stop himself. For once he didn’t second-guess himself, he didn’t give his doubts or rules of propriety a chance to stop him, he just reacted. He was suddenly sixteen again, trapped in a crystal prison with the only other person in the world who understood. She knew his pain because it was her pain too, and so he did what he should’ve done then, what he’d wanted to do but had been too afraid to.
He wrapped his arms around her, a promise that he wouldn’t let the Fire Nation hurt her again and cried. Cried for her loss, cried for his; cried because for the first time there was someone who understood what loss was, who understood the soul shaking pain that you never recover from. He cried because she knew that pain, understood the empty place it left inside that could never be filled, and she was far too young to have had to experienced it.
He cried for two young children left alone in the world, hollow and broken and forced to grow up too soon; two young children with a gaping wound no one could see that would never stop bleeding and would never truly heal.
“Her name was Kya. She was…” Katara’s voice trembled, her hands fisted in his robes. “Gran-Gran hated her at first. Dad said they threatened to elope so Gran-Gran finally relented and agreed to let them marry.” Katara let out a shaky laugh at that and Zuko could only imagine the drama that had ensued. She palmed away her tears.
Zuko kept his hands fisted at his sides. He wanted to pull her back into his arms, to hold her there and tell her it would be ok; but it wouldn’t. This wasn’t a hurt he could fix. “So your father craved her a necklace.”
Katara grinned, eying him knowingly. “It is customary for men to carve women a betrothal necklace in the Water Tribe, as I sure your uncle told you when he spotted you toting my mother’s necklace around that old rusty ship of yours,” Katara teased.
Zuko’s face turned as bright as his robes. “I was-I didn’t-it wasn’t-dammit Uncle you promised!”
Katara’s laugher cut him off. “It turned out that Dad is a great warrior, but a terrible artist. Gran-Gran took pity and gave him her old necklace, the one Master Pakku had carved for her.
“Wait, what? I thought your Gran-Gran married Master Pakku?”
“She did, recently; but they were betrothed before and she ran away.” Zuko just stared at her. “Gran-Gran never told anyone and I guess Dad just never asked about the necklace, or if he did Gran-Gran just didn’t tell him. Either way, I didn’t learn the truth until I met Master Pakku in the North Pole and he recognized the necklace he’d carved years ago.”
Zuko looked back to the necklace in his hand, digesting this new information. “So Hakoda didn’t carve this for your mother.”
“No,” Katara confirmed, “but he did carve this.” She turned the necklace over in his palm, revealing a simple set of worn characters roughly etched in the back. He’d seen them years before and wondered about them, as they obviously didn’t match the craftsmanship displayed on the front of the necklace. Now he knew why.
Katara traced the faded characters lightly, a sad smile once again pulling at her lips. “As long as there is water in the sea, my heart will belong to you.”
His breath caught and he glanced at Katara, but her eyes were still fixed on the necklace. He realized she must have been reading the engraving, or at least what it had once said. He wondered how many times she’d sat alone, running her fingers over those words and remembering her parents.
“My mother’s name was Ursa and she loved those stupid Ember Island plays. Used to drag us to watch them every summer, especially ‘Love Among the Dragons’. It was her favorite.
“Is that how she met…” she trailed off, obviously uncomfortable asking that question, but Zuko could see the curiosity.
“No. They had an arranged marriage. I don’t think my mother ever loved him but my father…he loved her.”
“Really?” Katara couldn’t hide her surprise. Zuko chuckled, wondering if she realized how close she was sitting now. It was nice.
“It wasn’t a healthy love. He was always very possessive and controlling. Even as a child I knew it was wrong.” Zuko sighed, looking down at Katara’s necklace again. He couldn’t help the sting of jealously that shot through him, wondering what would it have been like to grow up in a house full of love instead of what he’d experienced. It was no wonder Katara was such a wonderful, loving person. She’d been surrounded by love from the very beginning.
“Zuko?”
He looked up. She was watching him, concern wrinkling her young face. He could see where the wrinkles would deepen with age, could imagine her old and gray like her Gran-Gran with those same caring blue eyes and realized she’d be beautiful even then. To him, she’d always be beautiful.
She reached out, wiping away the tears he hadn’t even realized were there. That was the second time she’d touched his scar, the second time he’d ever allowed someone to touch his scar. One day he’d tell her that, he’d tell her everything, but not today. Wordlessly he handed the necklace back to her, watching as she tied it around her neck. Instinctively her fingers went to her throat. He’d seen her do it a thousand times.
“Won’t you miss it?”
She frowned, giving him a curious look. “What?”
“Your necklace, I mean-well someday…that is-” He was stammering like an idiot and he knew it. It’d started off as a simple question. He really had been curious what she would do without her mother’s necklace; to him it and her were inseparable, but he hadn’t thought it all the way through and the thought of her wearing another’s necklace made his insides churn unpleasantly.
Katara smiled gently. “It’s an heirloom now.” She explained, her fingers fondly tracing the carving. “One day, I’ll give it to my daughter, and she’ll pass it to hers and so on. Gran-Gran broke the rules and started a new tradition.”
“So, no one will ever carve you a necklace?” The thought made him feel conflicted. She should have her own necklace. It was tradition.
“Did your father make your mother her crown, or did she inherit it?”
Zuko looked away, suddenly feeling nervous. “Uh, it’s the Fire Lady’s crown actually. He stole it when they were married. Grandfather was furious because she was only a princess not Fire Lady, but he didn’t take it back, and uncle always said she looked lovely in it so…”
“She wasn’t Fire Lady?”
“Uh, no. Not officially. She vanished before father was crowned Fire Lord. Uncle was supposed to inherit the throne after grandfather’s death but somehow father stole it instead. I still don’t know all the details.”
They sat in silence, Katara looking at the crown thoughtfully. Finally she looked back at him, a smile on her lips. “And one day your wife will wear your mother’s crown, like my daughter will wear my mothers necklace.”
He blinked. “I-…I guess so.” He wondered how she could say such things so easily.
“Our mother’s will live on, through us.” She squeezed his hand gently, before standing. He watched as she smoothed her skirts, floored by her simple statement. She’d always had that effect on him though. “You coming?”
He shook his head. “No, not yet. I just need…”
“A moment.”
He nodded. She gave him another one of her sad smiles, and nodded. She understood that too; sometimes the pain required just a little alone time, even time away from your best friend.
He watched her leave, her words replaying in his head. His mother’s crown, no, not just his mother’s crown anymore. She was right. One day it would belong to his wife. “Maybe, it can be yours one day,” he said to the empty room.
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So I broke Katang in this chapter, and I may have actually cried myself. Also on AO3 for those that prefer that platform.
Chapter 3: Steamy
Ok, migraines suck and I’m super late, but here you go.
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@zutaraweek
She pulled the heavy cloak tighter around her shoulders. “Tell me again why we’re sitting out here, on the side of a mountain, in the middle of the night, in the cold?”
“It’s a surprise. Here, drink this.”
Katara frowned, accepting the now steaming cup of tea. Cradling it in her hands, she turned her attention back to the starlit sky. Zuko was talking, but her attention was fixed on the stars overhead, watching, wondering.
He stopped mid-sentence, realizing she wasn’t listening. Her tea remained untouched, growing cold in the night. She’d been like this for weeks now and a small, selfish part of Zuko wondered if he’d ever see her smile again. He hated himself for it.
Zuko knew she was grieving for her grandmother. He was grieving too, for his best friend. He hated seeing her like this. At first he’d held her, danced with her as she’d requested and he’d foolishly thought that maybe it’d be enough to carry her through. Since that night though, she’d become withdrawn and silent. Day by day he watched helplessly as the fierce, caring woman he loved disappeared before his eyes. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help her with this pain. She was drowning in her sorrow and he couldn’t do anything to ease her suffering. It hurt.
He followed her gaze, knowing where it would lead. She was looking at the sky again. She’d been doing that every night since Gran-Gran’s death; a solemn and silent figure bathed in starlight. She’d look beautiful if she weren’t cloaked in tragedy. He didn’t know the connection, but something about the sky was important to her. It was the reason he brought her out here tonight, to this cold, lonely mountainside. Out here, far away from the bright fires of the palace city, where the stars burned brightly against the inky darkness.
“What are you looking for?” he whispered, unsure if she even heard him in her grief; unsure if he even wanted her to answer him. Perhaps there was nothing and she was simply staring into space, lost in her grief, waiting to burn out and be swallowed by the darkness like the stars she’d taken to watching every night. The thought hit him like Azula’s lightning once had and for a moment he couldn’t breath, couldn’t think, past the paralyzing dread spreading through him. He couldn’t lose her too.
“The lights.” Her voice is so soft, so unexpected, that he nearly missed it over the howl of the mountain wind.
“Lights?” He pressed for an answer, hoping this would become an actual conversation instead of the few meager sentences he’d managed to drag from her lips these past weeks. She nodded, her eyes never leaving the sky. He missed those blue eyes. He missed a lot of things now. He’d never realized it was possible to be so close to and so far from someone at the same time. Zuko sighed, realizing she wasn’t going to offer any further conversation. He watched her, watching the stars, eyes searching for something that she never found. Finally he pulled his eyes away, looking for the lights she sought. He saw the stars, the moon, but nothing else. He tried again. “I don’t see anything.”
This time it was Katara that sighed. It carried the burden of unresolved grief as her finger unconsciously sought her mother’s necklace. “Neither do I.”
Silence enveloped them once again. This time Zuko had nothing to break it, so he said nothing. Her answers only begot more questions and he didn’t know what to do. Instead he focused on the one thing he could control, the fire.
He’d come prepared, a habit from his many years with Uncle; or rather a habit picked up after many years of Uncle’s lectures of him not being prepared. The fire flared brightly as he added a few logs and he was pleased to see Katara’s eyes on him. She’d moved closer to the fire while he wasn’t looking, her cloak now firmly clutched in her hands as she tried unsuccessfully to hide her shivering. Normally he would’ve teased her about not being able to take the cold, like she’d so often teased him, but not tonight. Instead he reached into his bag, pulling out a heavy wool blanket. Her eyes lit up, a smile pulling at her lips for the first time in weeks. Channeling his bending he warmed the blanket before wrapping it around her shoulders.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, feeling very pleased with himself and reached into his pack for his own blanket. The pack was empty. His smile fell into a confused frown. “Oh no…” Rather foolishly he peered into the obviously empty bag. “I couldn’t have-”
“Zuko?”
“Of all the stupid-”
“Zuko.”
He sighed, accepting defeat. His plan to cheer Katara had already gone so wonderfully wrong; he supposed she wouldn’t mind having to leave early anyway. “I forgot my blanket.”
Katara blinked, simply staring at him. “Are you cold?”
He grumbled, rubbing his arms absently. “No, I’m fine.”
She gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him. If he was truthful, he was cold. He could use his bending to keep him warm, but he needed something to keep the heat in, like a blanket. Without something to reflect the heat back to him, he’d just be wasting energy against a chilly mountain wind he couldn’t beat.
He was still berating himself for his mistake when something warm fell across his shoulders. He’d barely time to register it before a new, warm weight settled against his side.
“Better?”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The last time they’d been this close was the night they’d danced through their grief under the moonlight. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the warmth of her body until now.
Katara finished adjusting the blanket around them both and rested her head against his shoulder. She shivered. Zuko used it as an excuse to pull her even closer, channeling his bending to create pleasant warmth beneath their blanket cocoon. A happy sigh escaped Katara’s lips as she instinctively curled against him. Zuko decided it made the disastrous outing worth it.
Warm again, she’d turned her attention back to the stars. Zuko contemplated what to do next. He’d hoped that bringing her out here where the stars were brightest, would offer her some sort of closure. So far, that hadn’t happened. He didn’t know what else to do, what else he could do. He studied her profile, the tilt of her chin, the shape of her nose, and the blue of her eyes like it was the last time he was ever going to see them. It just might be. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t know if he could. Ashamed of his weakness he looked away, searching for any other option. “Tell me how I can help.”
“Zuko-”
“I know, you just need time, but still…I hate seeing you like this, knowing there’s nothing I can do. I just feel so…helpless.” He admitted, refusing to meet her gaze. “I would do anything for you.” He admitted quietly.
“I know. Just…just be here, beside me. That’s enough.”
He blinked, stunned at the sudden warmth against his hand, the slight pressure of her fingers entwining with his. “You...you, want to stay here…with me?”
Katara smiled. “Where else would I go?”
He didn’t want to say it. Agni, he didn’t want to, but he had to. It’s what she needed most right now. “Home,” he choked out, his voice far more strained than he’d intended. “Back to your tribe, to your…to family,” he finished softly.
She regarded him thoughtfully, her eyes piercing him in that way that he was certain allowed her to look right into his soul. One of these times he’d be brave enough to ask her what she saw, but not today. Finally she looked away, turning her eyes back to the stars. “I’m the Water Tribe ambassador. My place is here.”
He winced at the reprimand in her voice. “I know. I just…if you want to leave-”
“I can see the lights Zuko.”
“The lights,” he repeated dumbly. He still didn’t know the significance, but at least one fear had been quelled this night; she wasn’t going to leave him. Now if only-
“The lights.” She reiterated, lifting his chin towards the sky. Bands of color wove across the dark, shifting in hue and intensity before his eyes. Thousands of sparkling stars twinkled in and out of existence as the bands of color passed over them.
“The auroras,” he breathed in wonder. “That’s what you’ve been looking for? Why?”
“According to Water Tribe legend, when we die we join our ancestors in the lights.” Katara’s hand tightened its hold on his. Her voice was heavy with emotion when she spoke. “You found her Zuko. Thank you.”
He wrapped his arms around her then, pulling her tight against his chest. In silence they watched the auroras dance their way through the night. He imagined Gran-Gran’s spirit dancing through the stars like she had in life. It brought a smile to his face, even as his tears escaped unnoticed.
Their fingers slipped over each other’s in light caresses as they watched the auroras slowly begin to fade into the bright pinks and purples of sunrise. One by one the stars disappeared, replaced by rich golden oranges and reds that exploded across the sky.
Zuko looked down at the waterbender in his arms, startled to meet her eyes. He’d expected her to be watching the sky like she had for weeks, not him. She gave him a tired smile, squeezing his hand gently. “It’s a new day.”
He nodded, sensing she meant more than the obvious.
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