Being of complete inanities
Story: short and sweet to the soul i intend
Summary: Maybe they wouldn’t be wishing and wanting and lying blatantly and horribly to their spouses that they’re happy running the world and keeping the pieces from coming apart when, in truth, everything inside is unraveling.
Notes: Inspired by Neptune47's heartbreaking pieces, A Long Time Ago and We Used to be Friends . . . which were in turn inspired by "We Used to be Friends" by the infinitely talented Dandy Warhols.
~
There is a big difference, Katara has noticed, between inflections. For example, she and Aang used to be friends. Now they’re married, even though she still is not one hundred percent (completely) sure that Aang is her soul mate, and that’s because she feels that she shouldn’t have to look after her soul mate like he’s four years old.
Katara and Zuko used to be friends. Now they’re not. Now they’re nothing except diplomats with excellent connections and equally impressive spy networks that occasionally overlap. Katara is in charge of her people because no one else was stepping up to do the job, and Zuko has genetics and lack of other candidates stacked in his favor (or against him, really, depending on the day of the week).
Katara thinks, personally, that he does a damn fine job of running the Fire Nation, even if he does occasionally lose his grip on some of his soldiers and Katara’s people have to set them right. And Zuko knows that the Water Tribes wouldn’t be coming together like they are, uniting across an entire hemisphere, if it weren’t for her leadership.
On paper, they’re terribly close, and maybe they could’ve been, if Aang hadn’t wanted to get married so soon and Katara hadn’t been weakened enough by childhood dreams and the war to give in.
Maybe she wouldn’t have thrown Zuko’s awkward kiss back in his face, gotten married to Aang the next hour like she hadn’t been pressing her lips to Zuko’s skin and wishing that there was a way she could honorably withdraw from the ceremony, the tedious process, and not send Aang into the Avatar state.
Maybe Zuko wouldn’t have destroyed those priceless scrolls and had that useless spat with Aang that is still-still, eight years later-being played out in Toph’s drawing room when they need to have face-to-face meetings (which invariably end with Zuko and Aang glaring at each other from opposite corners, while Toph and Katara have tea and try to avoid the really big pink rhino-elephant in the room).
Maybe Katara wouldn’t feel guilty that when she steps into the lake by the edge of the Bai Sing Se estate for “training exercises,” it’s Zuko’s face she sees and imagines that the warmth of the water is him, closer than he had been in years, wrapped around her and pressing his arms into her side and lifting her heart like her small, child-like husband can’t. Maybe she wouldn’t wish that his lips were real, that he didn’t care about all the stupid things she did because she was afraid and because she wanted to be her mother.
Maybe Zuko wouldn’t sit in his quarters, neglecting trade scrolls, flicking his fingers and making the little fire figures that his children love so much, watching Katara’s face bleed red and yellow and gold in his hands like her skin never had. Maybe he wouldn’t wish that he’d been smarter, had better timing, aimed his lips a little to the left so he could’ve caught her mouth rather than the corner of her lips, used a more convincing argument than a breathless I love you cut off at the knees.
Maybe they wouldn’t be using their bending for very Non-Regulation Activities, wishing and wanting and lying blatantly and horribly to their spouses that they’re happy running the world and keeping the pieces from coming apart when, in truth, everything inside is unraveling.
~
Thoughts? I suppose it's a rather depressing take on the whole Zuko-and-Katara-not-ending-up-together, namely that it's their own fault rather than social circumstances.
Ugh. Now I need fluff.
Summary: Maybe they wouldn’t be wishing and wanting and lying blatantly and horribly to their spouses that they’re happy running the world and keeping the pieces from coming apart when, in truth, everything inside is unraveling.
Notes: Inspired by Neptune47's heartbreaking pieces, A Long Time Ago and We Used to be Friends . . . which were in turn inspired by "We Used to be Friends" by the infinitely talented Dandy Warhols.
~
There is a big difference, Katara has noticed, between inflections. For example, she and Aang used to be friends. Now they’re married, even though she still is not one hundred percent (completely) sure that Aang is her soul mate, and that’s because she feels that she shouldn’t have to look after her soul mate like he’s four years old.
Katara and Zuko used to be friends. Now they’re not. Now they’re nothing except diplomats with excellent connections and equally impressive spy networks that occasionally overlap. Katara is in charge of her people because no one else was stepping up to do the job, and Zuko has genetics and lack of other candidates stacked in his favor (or against him, really, depending on the day of the week).
Katara thinks, personally, that he does a damn fine job of running the Fire Nation, even if he does occasionally lose his grip on some of his soldiers and Katara’s people have to set them right. And Zuko knows that the Water Tribes wouldn’t be coming together like they are, uniting across an entire hemisphere, if it weren’t for her leadership.
On paper, they’re terribly close, and maybe they could’ve been, if Aang hadn’t wanted to get married so soon and Katara hadn’t been weakened enough by childhood dreams and the war to give in.
Maybe she wouldn’t have thrown Zuko’s awkward kiss back in his face, gotten married to Aang the next hour like she hadn’t been pressing her lips to Zuko’s skin and wishing that there was a way she could honorably withdraw from the ceremony, the tedious process, and not send Aang into the Avatar state.
Maybe Zuko wouldn’t have destroyed those priceless scrolls and had that useless spat with Aang that is still-still, eight years later-being played out in Toph’s drawing room when they need to have face-to-face meetings (which invariably end with Zuko and Aang glaring at each other from opposite corners, while Toph and Katara have tea and try to avoid the really big pink rhino-elephant in the room).
Maybe Katara wouldn’t feel guilty that when she steps into the lake by the edge of the Bai Sing Se estate for “training exercises,” it’s Zuko’s face she sees and imagines that the warmth of the water is him, closer than he had been in years, wrapped around her and pressing his arms into her side and lifting her heart like her small, child-like husband can’t. Maybe she wouldn’t wish that his lips were real, that he didn’t care about all the stupid things she did because she was afraid and because she wanted to be her mother.
Maybe Zuko wouldn’t sit in his quarters, neglecting trade scrolls, flicking his fingers and making the little fire figures that his children love so much, watching Katara’s face bleed red and yellow and gold in his hands like her skin never had. Maybe he wouldn’t wish that he’d been smarter, had better timing, aimed his lips a little to the left so he could’ve caught her mouth rather than the corner of her lips, used a more convincing argument than a breathless I love you cut off at the knees.
Maybe they wouldn’t be using their bending for very Non-Regulation Activities, wishing and wanting and lying blatantly and horribly to their spouses that they’re happy running the world and keeping the pieces from coming apart when, in truth, everything inside is unraveling.
~
Thoughts? I suppose it's a rather depressing take on the whole Zuko-and-Katara-not-ending-up-together, namely that it's their own fault rather than social circumstances.
Ugh. Now I need fluff.