Ba Sing Se's Reckoning

***

The air was quite cold when Zuko suggested they set up camp. Katara didn’t put up much of a fight, but Zuko didn’t blame her. He knew that she must have had the fight of her life just a couple of hours ago...

As the ice daggers were lowered and the rain resumed its downpour, Katara had swiftly turned away from the lowly man who killed her mother and began walking with purpose, each step sending a splash of mud and water up and down her leg. 

Zuko scrambled to catch up with her, slipping and sliding on the soggy path. When he finally reached her, she had stopped walking, having reached the edge of a cliff. Zuko hesitated before placing a hand on her tense shoulder. 

He expected for her to shrug him off, but she did nothing. She was eerily silent, simply staring out over the deep chasm.

“Katara...” Zuko began, but it was at that moment that she wrenched out from his hand and screamed into the abyss, hot tears and cold raindrops streaming down her face.

For the umpteenth time that night, Zuko peered down at her, making sure she was covered in her sleeping bag. In sleep, her brows were furrowed and it took a surprising amount of will power for Zuko to not reach out to smooth them away-- to take away her pain.

He let out a long sigh, his breath coming out in a puff, like a lone whisper into the cool night air. Sleep evaded him. His only companion a crackling fire that he and Katara had used before turning in. He tilted his head up against Appa, reciting the constellations he had learned after years at sea, hoping the monotonous activity would lull him to sleep.

Suddenly, Katara stirred next to him, causing his voice to die in his throat. He waited, wondering if she would just roll over and go back to sleep, but soon a fretful moan fell from her lips followed by a sobbing plea.

“No... no! Mom-- please-- not my mother! Not her! Mom... please! Mommy!”

Katara’s movements became even more frenetic. Zuko could see sweat beading at her forehead and two tears leaked out from beneath her closed lids.

“DON'T KILL HER!” Katara yelled. She shot up to a sitting position, eyes suddenly wide and breaths coming out in deep pants.

“Katara, are you-- are you alright?” Zuko asked, leaning close to her. He felt torn and lost. 

Still breathing shallowly, Katara stared into the fire. The reflection of the flames danced in her eyes as Katara kept staring, almost as if nothing else around her existed. She hugged her knees close. Zuko slumped uselessly against the slumbering bison.

“Should I have killed him?” Katara whispered.

Zuko sat up next to her, leaning in close, thinking he had misheard.

“He killed my mother,” Katara said more firmly. She turned her head, her eyes fixed upon his. “I should have killed him.”

In that moment, Zuko felt the momentary fear he had experienced earlier when he saw Katara bloodbend the man on the ship, or when he had seen just how much power she had over her element in front of Yon Rha. The shadows from the fire quivered dangerously in her eyes, a blue so sharp it could cut ice. She looked at him for affirmation-- to tell her that yes, she should have killed that man.

Zuko swallowed before speaking. “No,” he said slowly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You did the right thing.” His words surprised him more than they did her. He swallowed again. “Your-- your mother would be proud of you, Katara.”

Katara inhaled then. Her eyes softened as they peered at him, examined him, searched him. Finally...

“Th-thank you, Zuko,” she said, laying a hand atop his.

He smiled, causing a tiny one to light up Katara’s face, which significantly warmed Zuko up against the chill in the air. The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, drawing warmth  from each other. Under the night sky, Zuko couldn’t remember feeling so at peace than at this very moment. Closing his eyes, he began humming a soft tune, not realizing that he was doing it.

“What is that?”

Zuko’s eyes flew open. “Hmm?”

“That tune... what you were humming just now.”

“Oh.” Zuko felt the tips of ears turn red. “It was-- my mom used to sing it me...”

“It’s nice,” Katara said. “I like it. It’s... soothing.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. Zuko forgot how to breathe.

“Are there words?” she asked, a small yawn escaping her mouth.

Zuko closed his eyes again, thinking hard, thinking back to a time where his mother was still around, when he felt safe and happy. In the back of his mind, he couldn't ignore how the feeling of Katara’s head on his shoulder was deeply comforting.

“The moon is bright, the wind is quiet,

The tree leaves hang over the window,

My little one, close your eyes

Sleep, dreaming sweet dreams.”

He was no singer. His voice was raspy and hitched at some parts, but to Katara, the words fell beautifully from his mouth, a tune that spoke of home. Katara’s eyes were closed as she huddled closer. “I like it,” she said again, her voice already drifting. Zuko carefully laid his head atop hers.

“I like it, too,” he whispered.

A/N: The words to Zuko's song comes from a traditional Chinese lullaby known as the "Northeastern Cradle Song". The tune really is quite nice.