Hey all, just an update. I don’t really know what’s going on with me right now but I’ve been too exhausted to work on Blood & Seawater. I’m going to the doctor soon to make sure everything is on the up and up, so hopefully I’ll be able to get back to work soon.
I want to thank my lovely Patron who surprised me recently and reminded me that I’m missed. You are an angel and I am so grateful to have you.
As a token of my love and appreciation, I’m dropping a link for the newly edited first chapter of How Dragons Fall in Love.
Yes, there are plot changes. A lot of things need to be tweaked and rework to have my story make sense when I started Dragons I hadn’t planned on the narrative going this long.
I’m also changing the Zutara portion of the story and cutting the smut. I was desperate for readers and jammed that bit in there for attention, which I think ruined my intentions. I’m still desperate but I really want this story to be as close to my dream as possible.
What this means for you is that the writing should be tighter and less horribly paced.
I went to a writer’s conference and everything, just to bring you the goods!
I love you all and thank you for your support. I literally couldn’t do it without you.
Part 4 is short because I realized I wanted a distinct break between this stuff and the end. Part 5 will be it and then I’ll be able to post in Blood & Seawater (obviously I needed to get in Zuko’s head before I could write more.) Thanks for reading!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
When Zuko returned the palace, it was much quieter. Disappointed, he found that Sokka and Suki had retired, so Zuko went back to his office. Alone. The lamps had been kept lit and a small tray holding a tea pot and some crackers sat on his desk. He ignored it, sat down and pulled out more paperwork.
As he listened to the rushing of blood in his ears, he finished amending the notices and his recommendation for the next Head Matron.
As he tapped the papers upright on his desk, he eyed the tray again. Remembering the awful tea he drank at the prison, Zuko grimaced and laid the papers down. His attention turned, now, to the box.
He had put it together last week, bitterly anticipating the day Katara would have to leave. Of course he had imagined passing secret letters tucked into books or rolled up in furs. Perhaps naively, he thought he could continue to woo her even as she sat on top of the world.
The moment he had seen her, the moment she had walked up to him, Zuko had finally realized what Chang had meant. If he respected Katara, he needed to be straightforward. He needed to make things perfectly clear so there was nothing to taint their friendship.
Seeing her, with dark circles under her eyes and her tangled from the wing, his heart had risen.
Remembering that she loved Aang caused it to plummet.
When she told him she wasn’t with Aang, he didn’t feel it beat at all.
Now, though, things had changed again.
He didn’t understand why she was so angry. He understood grief, and the anger that can come from that. But Katara had been enraged.
Closing his eyes, Zuko recalled Katara’s face back in Hira’a. She looked murderous, a face he had seen before. Zuko knew he would never have been able to offer her Azula’s death. Even after all of it - the torment, the hate, the history - Azula was still his little sister.
And a future with Katara had never been assured.
Opening his eyes, Zuko grabbed a slip of parchment and quickly, but carefully, scratched out a note. It was her gift and perhaps as she got closer to home, she would start to feel less angry. Slipping the note into the box, Zuko knew he would have to find a servant to deliver the box to Katara before she left.
Before she left him for good.
Just as he closed the lid, the door to his office cracked open, followed quickly by a slight knocking.
“Come in.” Zuko called and let his hands linger on the lid for a moment.
Then Aang entered and a shock shot through his veins.
“Aang.” Zuko stated. The Avatar smiled softly as he walked into the office.
“How are you Zuko?” Aang asked.
“I’m-” Zuko halted, cutting off his automatic response. “I’ve been better.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Thank you, but everything that can be dealt with right now has been.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I-” Zuko felt his throat tighten. “Thank you.”
The two men stood in silence and Zuko forced himself not to look at the box. Would Aang ask? It was an innocent enough present. A stationary set for a friend who would be far off and inaccessible. He wouldn’t ask. Why would he?
“I wish I had made it here before you guys had left.” Aang said and Zuko focused on him. “Maybe I could have helped.”
Zuko remembered the night Katara had gotten Aang’s letter. He remembered being in her room. On her couch.
“It was supposed to be an easy trip.” Zuko shook his head. “There was no way we could have anticipated it turning out as it did.”
“Well, thank you for taking care of Katara.”
There was the sound of a breath. The smell of sweat. A moan. The flash of bare skin.
Feeling his face warm, Zuko cleared his throat and started idly sorting through the things on his desk.
“She can take care of herself.” He said hurriedly. Aang chuckled and finally took a seat on the other side of the desk.
“That she can. But a spirit! I wish I had been there.”
“It sounds like she’s a regular occurrence there. You should go visit.”
“I’ll have to when I get back.”
“Back?”
“I’m going with Katara to the North Pole.”
Ice squeezed his throat and stomach. The dual icy grip twisted and pushed towards his lungs.
Had Aang gone to Katara while Zuko had been to prison? Had Katara gone back to Aang?
“That’s, will.” Zuko stuttered as his thoughts were pulled in a wild array of directions. A deep, aching pain broke like ink from a burst pen. It bloomed out from behind his heart, moving through him toward his back.
Even with her leaving, he hadn’t actually thought he had lost her.
“After she and I fought in Republic City,” Aang continued. “And with what happened, I thought it would be helpful for me to go along. I haven’t been the most attentive boyfriend recently.”
And all at once, the pain was gone. There was an illuminating emptiness that filled Zuko.
Aang was just oblivious.
“That should be, nice.” Zuko said hesitantly.
“Did you need any help with the cremation?” Aang asked. Zuko looked at the other man - and they were men now, he supposed. They were friends, of course. They were the young, great leaders of the world. The Avatar and the Fire Lord, companions once again.
But they were so different. Aang was the embodiment of a summer breeze. He floated around, with a purpose in mind and sometimes the force of a gust, but ultimately he came and went. With the world at peace, more or less, there were no demands made of Aang’s time. He was young - blazes, they were all young - and he reveled in his youth.
Zuko was trying to become older, to command the respect of his people through the sheer weight of his ancestry. His line had held the throne since the Fire Nation had unified. He had been blessed by the gods to rule.
Aang was a god who walked the earth.
With a heavy sigh, Zuko fell back into his chair and Aang looked alarmed.
At that moment, Zuko felt nothing but intense jealousy. Aang had the freedom to pack up and follow Katara to the North Pole. Zuko wanted to go. He wanted to be able to see Katara’s face every day. To not have the animosity of the entire Water Tribe. To sit himself in the ice palace and burn with the passion he had only ever felt with Katara.
Aang had all of that, and had it so easily.
“No, Aang. It doesn’t take much and I,” Zuko rubbed his eyes vigorously. “I really need to be the one to do it.”
“Her death was not your fault Zuko.” Aang said. Zuko moved his hand away from his eyes.
“One day I’m sure I will believe that.” He replied. Another sigh, and Zuko stood up again. Aang followed suit, still looking worried. “I should get ready.”
