A Silent Morning
Title: Morning Exercises
Prompt: Silence
Word Count: 726
Rating: PG-13
Author Note: This is my first ZxK fic.
"I prefer silence," Zuko mentions, as he rolls his bare shoulders and straightens out his back in the thick air of the forest. Flush against a willow tree, she flattens herself against the trunk and lets out a deep breath as she watches him perform his morning exercises. There are the smooth movements of his arms weaving through the air, much like a dancer's legs in a waltz. Katara wonders whether bending could be related to dancing in that respect. The air is heavy and it is early morning. She had risen as quickly as Zuko had touched her shoulder, nudging her to wake her up.
He had pulled his dark green tunic off earlier, as soon as the sun had risen. The heat was nearly unbearable in this part of Earth Kingdom territory. The water tribe girl sits cross-legged on the forest floor and begins to re-braid her hair, her nimble fingers flitting over loose strands of silky, dark hair. It is increasingly quiet in the wilderness; Katara is accustomed to it. There is no bubbling laughter erupting out of Aang's mouth here. He is back at the campsite, peacefully sleeping. Like a mother she utters nothing when she finds him asleep, brushing her fingers over the gentle features of his face.
The heat is nearly as unbearable as the silence.
Usually she'd be chattering away, or at least bending to keep herself preoccupied. There is no river or stream nearby. The last body of water they passed was a shallow pond, where she had refilled her canteen. In the Earth Kingdom there were stretches of land but few streams, rivers, or lakes. She longed to be near water; Katara felt less insecure that way. A thin, wispy twig crunched underneath Zuko's movement and she immediately glanced at him. He was waking her early every morning for nearly a month now, just to watch him perform his exercises. Iroh would be wide awake at this hour, but generally unwilling to accompany his nephew in the hot weather. Zuko would lead her by the wrist into the clearing and expect her to be quiet - to respect the silence.
It was bothering her. She wanted to open her mouth and ask him why he would bring her here every morning. The heavy air and even heavier silence was making her mind foggy and unclear. Her hair was neat and tidy again, so she flipped the braid behind her shoulder. After he completed his exercises, he would sit across from her. In between them there was a small, circular patch of dirt, clear of grass and forest growth. Zuko would push the sweat forming across his forehead with a swipe of his hand - his shirtsleeves not an option as his shirt hung on one of the branches overhead.
Katara is tired with the silence. Forget respecting it, she has to deal with it first. And what is the acceptance of silence anyway? A lack of communication, that is what it is! That can't be good for her, can it? She mentally argues with herself before she glances at him and notices he is rubbing his shoulder. Zuko realizes that she is about to speak, to break their unspoken code of respecting the silence. Her smooth lips part to speak. Zuko does not want to hear what she has to say. He wants her to respect the silence. It is then that he darts behind her, and holds her wrists in his hand, tightly enough for her to utter a small gasp more in surprise than in pain.
He leans in closely to the shell of her ear, letting her feel and hear his continuous breathing pattern. Zuko now slides his deft fingers up from her wrist to her elbow and finally to her shoulder. With a lean in to the side of her face, he gently tilts her head towards him. His short, dark hair is glistening with sweat in the sun - she can see it at this angle. He leans in close to her mouth, just to breath with parted lips over her own. She closes her eyes because for once, she does not know what to do.
When Katara finally opens her eyes, she realizes the clearing is empty aside from her, and that when Zuko drifted out of the forest, he left in perfect silence.
Prompt: Silence
Word Count: 726
Rating: PG-13
Author Note: This is my first ZxK fic.
"I prefer silence," Zuko mentions, as he rolls his bare shoulders and straightens out his back in the thick air of the forest. Flush against a willow tree, she flattens herself against the trunk and lets out a deep breath as she watches him perform his morning exercises. There are the smooth movements of his arms weaving through the air, much like a dancer's legs in a waltz. Katara wonders whether bending could be related to dancing in that respect. The air is heavy and it is early morning. She had risen as quickly as Zuko had touched her shoulder, nudging her to wake her up.
He had pulled his dark green tunic off earlier, as soon as the sun had risen. The heat was nearly unbearable in this part of Earth Kingdom territory. The water tribe girl sits cross-legged on the forest floor and begins to re-braid her hair, her nimble fingers flitting over loose strands of silky, dark hair. It is increasingly quiet in the wilderness; Katara is accustomed to it. There is no bubbling laughter erupting out of Aang's mouth here. He is back at the campsite, peacefully sleeping. Like a mother she utters nothing when she finds him asleep, brushing her fingers over the gentle features of his face.
The heat is nearly as unbearable as the silence.
Usually she'd be chattering away, or at least bending to keep herself preoccupied. There is no river or stream nearby. The last body of water they passed was a shallow pond, where she had refilled her canteen. In the Earth Kingdom there were stretches of land but few streams, rivers, or lakes. She longed to be near water; Katara felt less insecure that way. A thin, wispy twig crunched underneath Zuko's movement and she immediately glanced at him. He was waking her early every morning for nearly a month now, just to watch him perform his exercises. Iroh would be wide awake at this hour, but generally unwilling to accompany his nephew in the hot weather. Zuko would lead her by the wrist into the clearing and expect her to be quiet - to respect the silence.
It was bothering her. She wanted to open her mouth and ask him why he would bring her here every morning. The heavy air and even heavier silence was making her mind foggy and unclear. Her hair was neat and tidy again, so she flipped the braid behind her shoulder. After he completed his exercises, he would sit across from her. In between them there was a small, circular patch of dirt, clear of grass and forest growth. Zuko would push the sweat forming across his forehead with a swipe of his hand - his shirtsleeves not an option as his shirt hung on one of the branches overhead.
Katara is tired with the silence. Forget respecting it, she has to deal with it first. And what is the acceptance of silence anyway? A lack of communication, that is what it is! That can't be good for her, can it? She mentally argues with herself before she glances at him and notices he is rubbing his shoulder. Zuko realizes that she is about to speak, to break their unspoken code of respecting the silence. Her smooth lips part to speak. Zuko does not want to hear what she has to say. He wants her to respect the silence. It is then that he darts behind her, and holds her wrists in his hand, tightly enough for her to utter a small gasp more in surprise than in pain.
He leans in closely to the shell of her ear, letting her feel and hear his continuous breathing pattern. Zuko now slides his deft fingers up from her wrist to her elbow and finally to her shoulder. With a lean in to the side of her face, he gently tilts her head towards him. His short, dark hair is glistening with sweat in the sun - she can see it at this angle. He leans in close to her mouth, just to breath with parted lips over her own. She closes her eyes because for once, she does not know what to do.
When Katara finally opens her eyes, she realizes the clearing is empty aside from her, and that when Zuko drifted out of the forest, he left in perfect silence.