OMG! I actually finished the chapter! #_#
Lol. I thought I'd never finish this stupid thing. Did you ever have so many ideas in your head that you can't get them all onto paper quick enough? I swear, I got distracted so many times from completing this damn chapter because I was repeatedly ambushed by plot bunnies to use in future "episodes". I'm actually pretty confident that I'll see this whole thing through, though. I have a basic plot outline for every episode now, which will be 24 total. I know how I want it to start, I know how I want it to end, and I know exactly how I want it to get there. I just don't know exactly how long it will take.
But it's all about the journey, baby. ~_^
This is actually the most fun I've ever had writing a fic because I keep replaying all the scenes that I want to write in my head, and I swear I could have actually seen them happening in the show if it had continued. And while my primary objective in writing this story is to get to the Zutara yumminess, I also am striving to remain as true to the original show as possible - not just the character's voices, but also the ambience the world of Avatar contained. Therefore, it may take awhile for the said yumminess to get there. Again, see above, re: journey. But when it does happen, I hope it will be glooooorious. :)
So here's the first installment of my fic Book Four: Spirit. It's pretty long, so I'm gonna upload it by individual chapters since it's not on ff.net yet. Hope you enjoy!
1.1
“And that’s when I stomped my foot under the table and BLAM!” The floor shook for emphasis, “The egg custard splattered all over his face!”
The room erupted in laughter. Sokka moaned and buried his face in his hands as Suki threw a sympathetic arm around his shoulder. “Really, Toph, do you have to keep repeating that story over and over again? We get it. Everyone is already well aware how talented you are at humiliating me. So can you give it a rest already?”
Toph leaned back on her cushion and folded her arms behind her head. “Okay, I will.” She grinned broadly. “As soon as it stops being so funny!”
Once again, laughter rang throughout the tea room, and Zuko smiled. He had missed this. After his coronation, the Fire Lord believed that he would never again be allowed to enjoy the too often taken-for-granted moments like this. He feared that the rest of his years would be wasted away by countless hours in the war room (now, instead, dubbed the “situation” room by Aang), developing strategies to keep his nation united, to keep his people happy, to keep the cost of rice from rising and jobs from disappearing. But as he looked to each of the laughing faces gathered at his uncle’s tea shop, his friends, his family, he realized that as long as these people were in his life, not a moment of it would be wasted.
And then Zuko suddenly noticed that two laughing faces were absent. He scanned the room once more, wondering when and how Aang and Katara had managed to slip out of his notice so quietly. Ignoring the chatter and laughter surrounding him, Zuko began to rise in search of them when he quickly glanced out the window and…
…Suddenly, Zuko couldn’t breathe.
He felt a stab in his gut, as if a dagger of ice had lodged itself deep beneath his chest, the cold spreading throughout his body and encasing it in a dull numbness. Zuko couldn’t help but stare as, unbeknownst to anyone but him, the Avatar and the Waterbender kissed quietly, gently, in the glow of the fading sun.
After a brief moment of paralyzing shock, Zuko became much too uncomfortable witnessing their private moment and instead whipped his eyes downward to the teacup that sat on the table before him. He tried desperately to shake off the feeling of numb disorientation and unease that threatened to overwhelm him, but for some reason he couldn’t escape it.
“Zuko,” Uncle Iroh peered at his nephew over his own teacup, concern etched deep in his eyes. “Are you okay? You look as if you are becoming ill.”
Zuko swallowed hard and looked up at his uncle, using all his strength to will away any turbulent emotions that may have been hiding behind his own eyes. “I’m fine, Uncle. My stomach’s just a little upset.” He tried to smile reassuringly at the old man, but Iroh’s concerned frown lingered.
“Well, if your stomach is upsetting you, let me add some shaved ginger root to your tea. It will help ease your discomfort.”
Iroh rose with Zuko’s cup in his hand, and he noticed his nephew’s grateful smile falter briefly as he stole a glance out the window once more. The old man followed the boy’s gaze and, after a moment, let out a small sympathetic sigh. Laying a gentle hand on Zuko’s shoulder, Iroh looked at his nephew once more. “On second thought, let me brew you some chamomile tea instead. It soothes both the stomach and the spirits.”
Zuko smiled sadly. “Thank you, Uncle.”