Quick oneshot written for @zkfanworkweek day 3 inspired by @tihnixx 's art
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27699590
She had lied to him, she already knew the myth of Ursa Major. She had found a scroll about the constellations when they first arrived at the old beach house. But for some reason she wanted to hear him telling the story. 'No, I've never heard about it, could you tell me?', she had said.
So now she smiled as he told her all about it. She has been smiling a lot around him these days. Later, she would try to understand why. For now, she was focused on wondering what was it about being there, outside, laying only a few inches beside him while the rest of their friends were already asleep, that made the stars above her sparkle a bit brighter and the grass beneath her tickle a bit too much.
"I remember one night, when Azula was still a baby, my mother told her: 'And there's Ursa Minor. Just like you and I, mother and daughter, they'll always be together'", he chuckled, "I got so jealous that I chose a constellation for me so I could be in the stars with them".
"Those things can coexist", she let out a chuckle of her own and tilted her head to look at him. Suddenly not only the grass but even the air around her and the strand of her own hair that brushed her cheek seemed to tickle. "Which one did you choose?"
"That one", he pointed to the sky and her gaze followed the invisible line that extended from the tip of his finger. "It's called Draco."
"The dragon? That's suitable", she giggled softly and even though she was facing upwards, she could swear she saw his irises wandering in her direction for a second and the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. "I liked your idea, I want to pick one for me too."
You can have them all. Did he really think that? What was it with him and his thoughts these days? "From my sky or from yours?"
"From both, even though they're the same."
Yes, they are. It doesn't matter if they are watched by different stars, the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation sleep under the same sky. It brought him some strange comfort to remind that, some strange, unsettling peace.
"From mine, I'll go with The Great Fish. It has one the brightest stars. From here, do you have any suggestion?"
He remained silent for a heartbeat. "Lyra", he once more pointed to the night, "those five stars", he drew them in the air.
It's right beside mine. "Do you remember that street musician we passed by on our way to that ridiculous play, that one you gave almost all of our coins to?" His voice got softer at that. "He was playing the Lyra."
"What? A lyra?" He looked at her and raised his brow.
"No, Zuko", she laughed. He realized his choice didn't do her justice, her laughter sounded sweeter than a lyra. "Do you want a constellation, from the south?"
"Oh, sure. Do you have one in mind?"
''I do, actually. The Fire Eagle. Long ago it was called The Sea Eagle. But once, a Water Tribe merchant got lost in a Fire Nation desert. He had already run out of water and thought he didn't have much time left. So he prayed, asked every water spirit to help him or send help. Then he saw an eagle with its wings made of fire. He followed it and it led him towards the city he was trying to get to. When he returned home he told everyone his story and then people started calling it The Fire Eagle. Some believe that The Sea Eagle and The Fire Eagle are the same spirit, a shapeshifter that adjusts itself to the environment it's in so it can help people from all around the world."
"I'm honored", he smiled but avoided her eyes. Was that pink on his cheeks?
There was another reason why she had chosen that one for him, a reason that she didn't want to tell him, it was stupid: The Fire Eagle is very close to The Great Fish.
"It's going to be nice". Why did she start saying this? "Once we win this war, once we're apart, each in our own home, I'll be able to look at the sky and know you're somehow there, near". She cursed her lips when she heard her own voice pronouncing those absurd words she didn't mean to let out.
She's going to be in the sky, in our shared sky. He smiled to himself. She's already everywhere, in everything. She's in the blue hydrangeas and in every body of water. There's a bit of her in every poem he's ever heard. And now, as if she weren't already in the moon, she's going to be in the stars.
Or maybe it's the opposite, maybe they are in her, he thinks when he allows his gaze to fall to the side and sees the entire night reflected on her. Why bother looking at the sky when all the stars are in her eyes?
Something stronger than the tides and gentler than the ocean breeze pulled his hand to rest on top of hers. It couldn't have been himself to do it, why would he do it? Maybe the grass started to move and accidently carried his hand. Yes, it must have been the grass. He had found it to be tickling a lot that night, after all. Maybe it had been already trying to move.
When the grass moves again, this time controlling her hand and causing her to intertwin their fingers, he thanks it. He refuses to admit it to himself but he hopes that, with this touch, there's going to be a bit of her in him.
And then he begins to hear a small, distant voice humming something incomprehensible from somewhere. Somewhere not that far away, actually. And just when he thinks he'll never understand what this voice that sounds an awful lot like his own is telling him, just when he thinks he'll never understand what is the word that's echoing in the walls of his heart, he realizes it's her name.
