Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt, Blood and Violence, Bloodbending (Avatar), Post-Canon, Character Death, I'm Sorry, Angst with a Happy Ending, from a certain point of view, Protective Katara (Avatar), Possessive Katara, Badass Katara (Avatar), Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Eventual Smut, Zutara Month 2025 (Avatar), no beta - we die like ... you'll see
Summary:
Katara knew grief. Her life has been a long conversation with grief, one that began too early and never truly ended. But the end of the war was supposed to be the end of suffering. All the pain, all the loss, the heartbreak and nightmares should have been worth it for peace.
Standing in front of the burning pyre of the man she loved, Katara realized that there could never be peace for her — not now, not ever. The world had already taken everything from her.
But Katara was a fighter, Katara was a warrior. She would not beg the world for mercy. She would take what was owed, by grace or by ruin. And if her soul must burn upon the altar of justice, then so be it. After all, it was already broken.
This was supposed to be my Halloween celebration this year! But I'm late, so whatever! 🤣 I was lured by the concepts of dragons and fish! I always thought this was just something that would appear in fan concepts!! But?? It's just perfect! So I had to do it!!🥺🥺
The woman who sat straight-backed by the fire had eyes to match its flames. The eyes were the only things that moved in that rigid frame. They reminded Katara of a polar hare, as if the slightest movement might cause her to run.
Just like she did before, Katara thought.
She watched as Zuko sat down next to her. The small woman startled a bit at his arrival, until she turned to see who it was, relaxing as her son embraced her in a warm hug.
At this distance, Katara could not hear what they were saying, but she could see the expression of warmth, relief, and happiness on Zuko's face. It was rare that he looked so open, but it happened more and more these days, when he was among friends. Or family, she thought, reminding herself that this woman was his family, the reason for his current happiness. Still, she watched them closely from across the bonfire, looking for any sign of the pain she knew Zuko carried in the glow of his eyes from the firelight.
They laughed together, mother and son, and finally Zuko lay his head on Ursa's shoulder, his eyes closed. The woman was dwarfed by her son, making the sight almost comical, and yet it was sweet, and long overdue.
"You've watched him very closer since he's arrived with her," Gran-Gran observed. There was a question in the way she said it, one which Katara chose to ignore in the moment.
"You don't know how many times I've held him while he cried," Katara said, "told me that he didn't know if either of his parents had ever wanted him. I can't imagine that. The not knowing. I don't know if it's better this way, or worse."
Gran-Gran took her gloved hand in her own. "Even a boy who is almost a man needs his mother's arms," she said, her eyes meeting Katara's. "But he will return to yours when the time is right."
Katara felt her face color. "That isn't what I meant," she said, loudly enough to draw attention from a few people sitting around the fire near them.
"His father hurt him so deeply," she continued, quieter. "But she hurt him, too. She didn't mean to, but she did."
Gran-Gran nodded sagely. "Memory is a terrible burden," she said, and Katara couldn't help be reminded of how she had thought the same of Zuko, once. He had hurt her, once, and she hadn't known whether that meant he would do it again. She had made the choice to trust him, then, but it had been a long, hard road. For both of them.
And then, after the war, the first time he had returned to the Southern Water Tribe, she had watched as he'd stripped himself of his outer firelord's regalia, fallen to his knees in the snow before her Gran-Gran, the tears marking freezing tracks on his cheeks as he'd recited some old rite of expressing remorse and asking for council from an elder. She'd had no idea where he'd learned it. Some book, perhaps.
All Gran-Gran had said in response was "You will have to stand up to take my hand, boy. These old knees do not bend as easily as yours."
Now, Gran-Gran spoke quietly to her. "I have not told you all of the story of my own past, and for that I apologize."
"Oh, you don't - " Katara began, but Gran-Gran silenced her with a hand.
"These memories I have carried for so long," she said. "My mother's face on the day before I chose to leave my village. I had not told her, you see. The last words we spoke were about preparing seal-jerky. I did not learn until years later that my father had been killed in the fighting, and she followed him not a year later. A chill, they said, but I knew that it was grief that had settled in her bones. A grief that I had caused."
"But," Katara started to protest, "you left because they were forcing you to get married!"
"Yes," Gran-Gran nodded, "And I betrayed them, my family. At the time it was the only choice, the price I was willing to pay for my freedom."
"But that didn't mean it wasn't hard," Katara said, sadly.
Gran-Gran nodded again. "Every choice we make has the power to hurt, and to heal. And sometimes the choice is made for us. Sometimes we can only follow the path shown to us. This world is not easy for a young woman." Gran-Gran took both Katara's hands, and smiled. "This I know you know, my proud, strong granddaughter."
Katara's fingers went to the necklace at her throat, thumb rubbing against the smooth stone. She looked back at Zuko, holding out a hand to Ursa, helping her stand. The woman wobbled on her feet a bit, not used to the feel of boots in heavy snow.
"I will always regret that my mother never met the man who gave me my son, nor her own grandchild. But I made my choice, and I know you will make yours when the time comes. As will he," Gran-Gran said, nodding toward where Zuko and Ursa stood.
Katara felt the heat return to her face again at the thought that she had really been this transparent, and she looked away from the sight of Zuko and his mother.
Gran-Gran still looked behind her in their direction, though, and not a few minutes later, Katara heard the call from across the snow-covered ground as they approached.
"Katara!" He called. "Grandmother Kanna. I want you to meet my mother..."
Summary: In which Sokka wants to inform his sister and friend about the huge sum of money he just won, but both seem to have disappeared off the face of the earth.
Warning: Implied sexual content
Tagging @zutarawasrobbed and @poeticmoonspirit because anything tagged nsfw doesn’t show up in the search.
The odds of winning the lottery are statistically very low. The odds of winning on one’s first try are even lower. With that said, the odds of obtaining a girlfriend like Suki are infintestimally low. So maybe he has a shot.
The whole lottery thing wasn’t his idea in the first place. Sokka doesn’t really do games of chance. He likes plans that are solid, based in evidence. Not desperate bids for money that will likely never come. But Toph threatened to leak the drunk call he made last month to the whole group if he didn’t, so…here he is. He refreshes the webpage a few more times until he sees it.
5 4 23 16 44 9 30
Wait. Wait wait wait.
Sokka turns on the nearest lamp, gropes in the darkness for the card he bought yesterday. His hand closes around it. He squints at the numbers and ignores the extra fast beat of his heart.
It’s a perfect match. Every single digit is there on the screen. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
He lets out a (very manly) shriek. He won. He, Sokka Idlout, a random Inuk kid from eastern Nunavut, just won the fucking lottery. It feels surreal.
The door flies open. Aang stands in the hallway separating their rooms, a mildly concerned look on his face. “Are you all right? I heard screaming.”
Sokka turns the laptop around and holds the card up above it.
Aang’s eyes grow as wide as saucers. “You have to tell Katara.”
Yes. That’s a good idea. And not just because she said the lottery was a waste of his money, and he wants to show her how wrong she was. Katara is s the person Sokka cares about the most. After Mom died, they had to lean on each other a lot. He’ll never admit it, but he misses living with her—even if she is only a few buildings away.
She doesn’t pick up. Not on the first ring, not on the third. He gives up around Attempt #16.
Aang bites his lip. “Maybe she’s busy?”
“Yeah,” Sokka says. “Maybe.”
Zuko doesn’t come to swordfighting class the next day.
Anyone else, Sokka would assume just overslept, but Zuko has never been late for a class ever—not even the eight a.m. ones. Skipping also seems unlikely, since swordfighting appears to be one of his favourite courses.
Sokka approaches Professor Piandao after class. “Did…” He’s almost embarrassed to ask. “Did Zuko send you an email about why he didn’t show up?”
“No,” Professor Piandao says. “But I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. Everyone misses one or two classes.”
That doesn’t make Sokka feel better.
Katara continues to not respond to his calls. He switches to texting.
Sokka: Hey Katara what’s going on (10:30 a.m.)
Sokka: Are u ok? (10:45 a.m.)
Sokka: Is there a reason you won’t answer the phone? Did I do something wrong? (11:15 a.m.)
Sokka: I’m starting to get a little worried. did something happen to your phone? (12:00 p.m.)
Sokka: Katara plz text me back so I know you’re still alive. (12:30 p.m.)
He’s relieved when History of Martial Arts finally rolls around. It’s the only class he shares with Suki, who is herself the only person who might know where his sister is.
Suki sits up straighter when she sees him. “Aang told me you won. I’m so happy for—”
“Where’s Katara?”
“I don’t know,” she says.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Sokka holds back a few curse words. “You’re her roommate. How can you not know where she is?”
“She left the dorms last night. Said she had to visit someone.” Suki wrinkles her nose. “It’s not really my business.”
“B-b-but—”
Toph saunters into the classroom. “Hey, Snoozles. Suki.”
Sokka rolls his eyes. “Why doesn’t Suki have an insulting nickname?”
“She’s too cool for one.” Toph folds up her cane. She tucks it under the chair and between her feet. “Is something wrong?”
“Sokka won the lottery,” Suki says.
“Sweet. Can you give me some of your money?”
He pulls out his notebook. “You’re already rich, Toph.”
She shrugs. “Excuses.”
“Have you seen Katara or Zuko anywhere?” he asks her.
Suki frowns. “…You didn’t tell me Zuko was missing, too.”
Toph, on the other hand, is smiling broadly. “Don’t worry about it, Snoozles. I’m sure they’re fine.” Her voice carries a heavy I know more than you tone.
He opens his mouth to argue when the professor enters.
Katara finally, finally shows up for the group’s afterschool hangout at the Jasmine Dragon. (They used to hang out at a bar, but then Toph joined and she won’t turn nineteen for another month.) Sokka is so relieved to see her that he doesn’t think twice about the unwashed hair or the fact that she is wearing the same clothes as yesterday.
Zuko is right behind her. There are dark circles under his eyes.
“You okay, man?” Sokka asks. “You weren’t in class today.”
He glances at Katara. “I, uh. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Yeah,” she says, voice hollow. “Me neither.”
Something weird is going on between those two. Sokka isn’t sure what yet—but definitely something.
Ah, well. They can talk about that later. “I won the lottery.”
Katara folds her arms. “Prove it.”
He reaches into his pocket and…the ticket isn’t there. He remembers, too late, that he gave it to Suki to hold on to. Sokka has a habit of misplacing items, and he really didn’t want to lose his chance at a million dollars. “…I don’t have it on me right now.” He looks over his shoulder. Suki must still be at aikido practice.
“Let me know when you do,” Katara says smugly.
Sokka can’t summon the energy to argue. He is too busy being glad that she is okay.
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Both flowers rife with symbolism, both in the world of Avatar and real life.
In real life, moonflowers are so named because they bloom at night, and are associated with the feminine, romance, and hope. They grow best with a trellis, and are native to tropical climates. I like to imagine that they grow in abundance along the walls of the Fire Nation palace, their vines creeping over the stones. In the past, they had to be kept back from invading, but Zuko lets them grow as a sign of peace between the nations.
Moon flowers need to cling to something to grow. In ATLA, they appear in the episode Tales of Ba Sing Se, during the Tale of Iroh. We see Iroh out shopping, purchasing flowers for a picnic. The shopkeeper offers him a lavender, and suggests it is especially good for a romantic picnic. Iroh says that his outing is not romantic, but buys the lavender flowers nonetheless. But before he goes, he spies a moonflower that is wilting, and moves it into the shade, saying that moonflowers need partial shade to thrive.
In real life, moonflowers need full sunlight (which also connects back to the day/night dichotomous nature of the plant) but let's forget that for a minute and focus on what this is meant to show us about Iroh. Iroh who is seen throughout this episode helping strangers in need, who sees a delicate flower and does a simple act to help it grow.
He doesn't buy the flower, though. We don't learn what the purpose of Iroh's outing is until the end of the episode, when he takes the flowers to Lu Ten's grave.
Perhaps Iroh chose not to take this particular flower to Lu Ten's grave - although its meaning would probably be more appropriate than the lavender flowers the shopkeeper suggests - because it isn't his to take. Iroh is an invader in Ba Sing Se, disguising his identity as someone who once lay siege to this very city. It would not be appropriate for him to pluck a flower that represents the opposite element and sacrifice it on the grave of his son, who died fighting an unjust war. Not only does Iroh choose to leave the flower where it is, but leaves it better off.
All of this is meant to show Iroh as a changed man, as someone who is no longer interested in war and destruction, but now only wants to bring peace and hope.
In real life, fire lilies grow after a fire. In ATLA, they appear in the episode the Puppetmaster. Hama tells Katara that they only bloom a few weeks a year, but are one of her favorite things about the Fire Nation. Hama uses them to teach Katara to draw water from the things around her, and Katara mourns the flowers' wilting as a result. Hama says that they are "just flowers" and that as a waterbender in the Fire Nation, she does what she has to to survive.
There's something really tragic about Hama saying that she loves the fire lilies right before destroying them, and this of course is a parallel to the person Hama was forced to become due to her trauma. The kind of person that Katara - representation of hope in ATLA, connecting her to the moonflower - ultimately resists becoming.
The idea of fire lilies growing after a fire might be ominous considering the way fire is associated with destruction in ATLA, but they also are meaningful for their association with rebirth, the hope that life will return. In ATLA, they are treated as unique to the Fire Nation, but I imagine that after the war, they bloom in many places where fire has been, and become a symbol of healing throughout the four nations.
Zutara Month Day 26: Zuko the Comic Artist, Katara the Actress
"I'm sorry, I just can't work like this," she said, motioning for the cameras to stop recording.
The snow machines were still whirring, even though everything else had stopped. Zuko strode over to where Katara sat on a faux ice block, fidgeting with her hair extensions.
"What is it?" He asked.
Katara stood up so she was roughly level with him, which made him take a short step back. "Well," she said, plainly, "I just don't think he would say that to her. I mean, 'aren't you a big girl, now?' Who wrote this sexist crap?"
Zuko's eyes narrowed. "I did. And he's the villain. He's supposed to be a dick to her."
"Yeah," Katara said, biting her lip, her eyes widening slightly. She hadn't known that the director was also the author and illustrator of the original comic when she agreed to take this project, but he had to know who she was. She was known for acting in roles that emphasized female empowerment, it was one of the things that had drawn her to this story in the first place. "But...I don't think he sees her that way. He's competitive. He has this connection with her because he sees himself in her, sees his own shortcomings and weaknesses. And she likes that, too."
Zuko shifted, intrigued. "Go on."
"She sees something in him that she doesn't see in her actual love interest. Someone who's on her level. She hates him, yeah, but she can prove herself to him in a way that gives her the validation that she really wants. That's what spurs her on, what motivates her. And she finds herself being more drawn to it the longer it goes."
"Interesting," Zuko conceded, not used to being challenged on his work. The series already had thirteen published and critically acclaimed issues, and at least three movies had the rights purchased. The story he wanted to tell wasn't finished, but he'd known for years how it would end, and had fought with executives who'd wanted to change things to make it more palatable for the big screen.
But he had to concede that he'd never actually thought about the dynamic between the characters that way. It was almost impossible for him to consider that an actress could know his characters better than he did...and yet.
He'd found himself thinking about it that night, as he'd sat at his desk working on the illustrations for the latest issue. Katara didn't actually resemble the character the way he'd drawn her, she'd been chosen mostly based on her reputation from previous roles. But as he looked back at the pages he'd done since they'd started work on filming, he was surprised to notice that the character had taken on more of her live-action counterpart's physical traits. He wondered when that line had become blurred. Today was the first time they'd spoken directly, but there had been something about her from the start. He'd thought he'd known what it was. It wasn't the first time an actress had caught his eye by any means. But his conversation with her today had changed things, and Zuko found himself thinking about it long after he had retired for the night.
Rising actresses Katara Imiq was getting a lot of hate for her new role in The Painted Lady. Critics stated she shouldn't play a Fire Nation role and was downright horrible until the original comic writter Zuko Kaji stepped in, saying he personally picked her for the movie adaptation.
There's still a lot of tension, but Katara and Zuko lean on each other through the press conference and backlash from internet trolls. The two grow closer, and the partnership grows to genuine friendship, then something more.
Katara's natural charm and emotional performance win people over, and the movie becomes an instant classic. Zuko even redraws the original comic cover with Katara as the Painted Lady and presents it to her as a gift during the awards ceremony.
They work on more projects together, start dating, (though at this point, it was already an open secret), and eventually get married. Everyone gets excited whenever they see both Zuko and Katara’s name on something, knowing it's going to be a hit.
And being the massive dorks they are, they name their first daughter after the character who brought them together, Izumi the Painted Lady.
Zutara Month Day 25: "There's Only One Way Out of This...We Have to Get Married."
It seemed that neither of them could be seen in public, much less with each other, without the accompaniment of stares, whispers, echoes of rumors, each one more creative than the last, extrapolating on the latest developments of the relationship between the Fire Lord and the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador.
The problem was that there WAS no relationship to speak about. But that didn't stop people from talking. From seeing things that clearly weren't there. Reading into every touch, every smile.
Iroh had once made the remark that people were always going to need some kind of story, and that if this were the price of peace, he would gladly take it. Zuko had had the feeling that there was more meaning behind that statement than he let on, but had chosen not to comment.
That was before Chief Arnook had made the suggestion during an important dinner that the Fire Lord's "lack of commitment" to Hakoda's daughter was clearly a snub against the Southern Water Tribe, making reference to Zuko's grandfather's and great-grandfather's tendency to employ royal concubines, something that wasn't exactly a secret in the Fire Nation.
Since then, the rumors had grown an edge, one that held the possibility of sharpening into another war if they were not careful.
Katara was the one to say it, over cups of mulled cider while they sat in his mother's garden one evening. She'd had several cups (they both had), and her giggle at the statement had been a little too loud, lasted a little longer than it needed to, and Zuko had been surprised at the feeling of something twisting in his guts at the sound.
He'd cocked his head to the side, then, downing the dregs of his own cup and trying to affect an air of nonchalance that he hoped would disguise the warmth that spread from somewhere in his stomach when he thought about her laugh, her smile, the small moments like this. Moments that meant nothing but were somehow everything.
