inspired by a writing prompt list i've lost, oops.
He leans over her sleeping frame, gently brushing the hair from her neck all so he can press a kiss against the soft skin it once hid.
She sleeps facedown, arms tucked beneath her pillow, her breathing soft and slow, but she stirs ever so slightly as he traces his fingertips along the length of her spine. In the darkness of his room, she opens an eye and looks up at him from where she lays, a long, sleepy sigh escaping her as his hand falls into place against her buttocks, the thin sheet the only thing between their skin. “Can’t sleep?” She murmurs and he chuckles, leaning in over her once more, this time so he can kiss her temple, breathing in her sweetly scented hair.
“No,” he admits, breathless, thinking of the dream that had woken him several minutes before; it’s been a long time since he’s ever had a nightmare of any kind, but this one had left him reeling, as if he were just a kid amongst a war all over again. She rolls over then, onto her back, blue eyes gazing up at him as her hands outstretch, her palms falling into place on either side of his face.
“You wanna talk about it?” She whispers and he shakes his head, one of his hands sliding into place over hers.
As always, without words, without anything at all, she understands him completely. Things have been calm, it’s true, in the decade since the end of the war, but… He hates to think of it, but there have been several uprisings in the last year, all squashed of course, but that did not mean it was over. There seems to always be something happening now and he hates to admit that he’s afraid of whatever was to come. The peace could never last, wasn’t that his and Aang’s biggest fears? “Just a dream,” he says next, laying down beside her, drawing her in, thankful for the warmth of her body and the weight of her head on his chest. “Just a dream,” he reiterates, more for himself than for her, and she presses her palm against his heart, a gesture she’s done hundreds of times during their years together.
She knows the world weighs heavily upon him.
She’s done her best to encourage him to lead with empathy, with mercy, but in the last few months there’s been more and more times where Zuko has been forced to be anything but. He and Aang have worked tirelessly since the end of the war to ensure peace continued, but as always, there were those who still opposed what it was they wanted for the world. There were those who wished to see the old ways returned, to when the Fire Nation ruled it all with an iron fist, when they ruled out of fear, not love, when the other nations knelt in reverence to their might, their power, their violence. It would be easy to give into this world they wanted, but Aang and Zuko would never give in.
“Sometimes I dream about those days, too,” she says softly, so long after the silence had descended that he thought her to be asleep. “Nightmares, really,” she corrects and she feels his hand begin to stroke the long length of her hair. “Scared as I am when I wake up, I always remind myself that those days are long gone… We’ll never go back to them again. Not ever.” His hand pauses and she hears his soft intake of breath, feels the fall of his chest when he exhales, smiling to herself when he begins to stroke her hair once more. “No matter what happens, we’ll always have this peace, Zuko.” It was theirs, it was the world’s, and nothing could take it away from any of them. Not anything.
Always, his thoughts echo her words and he closes his eyes against the rising tide of emotions within him. Just as only she can do, she assures him that all is well, that it will continue to be well, that what they’ve fought so hard for will never slip away. “I love you, Katara,” he says, because it’s the only thing that feels right. She twists around, blue eyes looking up at him from where she lays, her hand still on his chest, her lips curving with a smile. He’s seen her in every sort of moment, in every sort of situation, and somehow this one would always be his favorite. This one would always be a testament to what they had now and forever.
The peace was the world’s, that was true, but it was theirs, too.
