Zutara Week 2025 - Lantern
Have a listen to the song that inspired this writing!
The hot, sticky air was thick with humidity as Katara waded through it, and each step forward added an even more intense, sickeningly sweet smell of vegetation as she approached her destination. Sunset was over an hour ago, yet the sky was still warm and glowing over the tops of the stone buildings that obscured her view of the distant horizon.
The hike there was always worth it.
Nestled at the edge of the upper ring, Katara had found this spot days earlier: an overgrown lake surrounded on all sides by a miniature forest of trees, with a small sloping beach of grass leading to the lapping water’s edge. Willows dotted the perimeter, perfect for relaxing, and on most nights, she found herself in their company. She was sure that others did spend time here, but for the last several visits, she hadn’t seen another soul. It was the perfect place to think. To relax. To be alone.
Spirits knew she felt alone these past few days.
The sight of the oval lake brought the smallest smile to her face. It wasn’t an ocean, but it still made her feel more at home. She approached the body of water and stared into its depths, possibly seeking some sort of answer or feeling or emotion that was missing. But it was just water. It didn’t care for the questions she had or the feelings she kept hidden. It just was. So she took a breath of the lake-cool air and sat with her back to the nearest willow.
The tree supported her, and she was thankful. She chose this for herself, but Katara could never have guessed just how much being away from her friends and brother would affect her. In fact, it was the first time she’d been by herself in months, and it was wearing on her. Their journey and missions were important. Ba Sing Se was not the place to spend hours and days locked in her own head. Despite the warmth of the air, the city outside of this oasis of green was cold and uncaring and would grind down anyone with a desire to help.
With a simple motion, she kicked off her shoes, then dangled her feet above the water in front of the tree, letting her toes dip into its cool embrace before submerging them entirely. That felt good after a long day spent transporting missives between generals. The water sparkled as ripples expanded from her disturbance, and at the far edge of the pond, just beyond the horizon-trees, a blip of white began to emerge into the sky. The waxing gibbous moon quickly grew to enormous proportions, and she estimated that there’d be perhaps another few days until it was full. Not that it would matter. She didn’t need its strength. She was safe in the city.
Its presence did as much to comfort as to distress.
Looking out over the lake, not far from the rising light in the sky, she spotted a shadow reclining against another old willow. It was too far to make out any detail, but it was a person, she thought, and it looked like they too were trying to escape from an unfortunate reality with how the dark form crumpled on itself. Katara observed them. It was somehow reassuring to see someone, anyone, out there in the dark wilderness hidden in the city. She sighed and felt the tiniest rivulet of solitude float away from her. The veil had lifted. It was incredible how the presence of an anonymous companion in the night, despite being separated by distance and the cool evening air, could make her feel that much lighter. Their presence in and of itself was enough to make her feel that much less alone.
She decided to take a risk.
The moon cast its light on her while it bathed the opposite shore in darkness. The shadowed figure was almost invisible. Almost. She could make herself seen. It would be a simple action. She could make herself be heard, but dared not disturb the careful quiet ambience of the low, slow hum of the evening insects, their calls growing ever louder under the moon’s continuous ascent.
She threw caution to the wind.
As Katara waved a greeting toward the far shore, the shadow rose in a smooth motion, then departed into the wood behind it. They returned her feeling of solitude and reinforced the dreary emotions she felt before spotting them. With a sigh, she slumped forward and drew her knees to her chest.
Her presence wasn’t welcome.
Katara returned to her private hideaway of forced reticence the next night, hoping to see the shadowy figure at the opposite end of the lake. She waited and welcomed the distraction from her thoughts, but as the night grew darker and the moon rose higher, she was still alone. The silent, unknown kinship wasn’t to repeat, she supposed.
In the quiet near midnight, she whispered her grievances to the lake’s enshrouding nature. Yes, she offered to stay behind; someone had to do it, but she hated to be alone with her thoughts. They were dangerous things filled with anger and sadness, and regret. She needed her friends and what family she had left to keep her grounded. Without them for so long, she was drifting and didn’t know how far the currents would take her. She stared at the moon, and it welcomed her consternation with countenance.
Through the next day, she hoped the shadow person was well, and cursed herself for disturbing their placid peace the night before. It didn’t have to be anything more than the nothing it was, yet her yearning to not be alone wormed into her every thought. When she arrived at her tree the next night, she found it had already been visited. Of course, it wasn’t her tree, and it would be presumptuous to consider what she saw to be for her, but there was no other explanation. A single white water lily lay on the root she frequently perched on.
It couldn’t be a coincidence.
She sat in her spot, held the flower gently in her hands, and watched as the near-full moon rose again. The cicada-hoppers chirped their resonant song, and the water lapped, and Katara spoke to the flower. She told it how she worried for her friends, for the Avatar, and for her brother. She told it how she missed her father. She told it that she wished she had accompanied Toph to make sure the girl was alright on her visit. She stared at it in the moonlight as tears began to form in her eyes.
She confessed that it reminded her of her mother.
Katara felt rather than saw the shadow begin to move away from the tree to her right. She froze. She was afraid. Not of the shadow, but that they would go again. She wanted them to stay. In her heart, she knew they were who left her this flower that brought her every emotion to the forefront, and with everything in her, she spoke out. She quietly begged, “Don’t go.”
And she asked once more for them to remain here with her at the lake, at least for a time. She shuddered a sigh and murmured a thanks for the flower, hoping it would be enough to change their mind.
Katara waited for their next move with bated breath, expecting them to run, but instead, they faced slightly away, pulled their hood low over their face, and sat next to her, quieter than the night. The spectre offered her nothing but silence, but everything she needed. She spoke of home. Of the ice fields. Of the long night. Of the distant taiga forest, and the summers when the lake at its center thawed and grew flowers just like the one she held. She spoke of her mother’s love for the flowers in that lake, and how much Katara missed her and cried at the thought of going through the rest of her life without her.
Next to her, the shadow of a person shifted.
His hand – she assumed his because of the callouses and roughness and size – was warm when it gently touched hers. It was a tentative thing, slowly, ever so gently, his fingers curled under her palm and offered a comfort that solitude could never provide. It was more than she wanted. More than she hoped for.
It was exactly what she needed.
The tears fell, then slowed, then stopped. And as she calmed and the moon rose higher still, Katara’s breathing settled. Nature returned to its quintessence, and they shared the night for what felt like hours, but the minutes that passed in truth brought an end. He released her hand, and the distant frogs croaked as he disappeared into the darkness.
She was no longer so alone.
Katara spent the entire next day with an intense desire to know who he was. It was foolish to expect him to return the next night. And why would he reveal his identity? He kept it hidden for a reason, right? Besides, he nearly fled when she noticed him last night, let alone when she waved to him earlier that week. She’d just have to accept that it was a moment in passing, and nothing more.
The universe had other plans.
When she arrived, the lake was not empty as usual. The cool air was present, the insects were playing their music, and the full moon was now high, but her shadow was waiting, seated by the willow with a basket at his side. She wouldn’t force him to reveal anything if he didn’t want to. It wasn’t her place. She did, however, owe him an explanation. Keeping her eyes forward, Katara sat on the roots and thanked him for coming back.
He gave her the tiniest nod.
The lake was a mirror, perfect in every way before them, and she took in the stars of its reflection, few due to the moon in its grandeur, but splendid in their shining small number. After a time, she breathed deeply and told him everything. He deserved that much. Katara quietly weaved the tale of her mother, how she raised her, and how she was lost, and at the end, the boy shifted. She saw him pull back his hood, but she stared straight ahead, scared to break the mystery. He removed something from the basket and placed a small boat in the water. And then he spoke with a telltale rasp.
“I’m sorry. That’s something we have in common.”
Her mind reeled in an instant. She looked over, and in the next moment, was sobered. He had his eyes shut and was shedding tears of his own. He was her enemy. But he offered her the comfort of a friend. He spoke of his own mother and how she was lost to him. How she protected him and how much he missed her. Sometime between the first tears and the last words, she put her arm around his shoulder and gently pulled him closer. It was all she could think to do.
She knew he needed the same comfort.
The boat bobbed in the water in front of them, waiting, and she watched as he pulled a small lantern from the basket, lit a candle within, and placed it on the tiny vessel. A small breeze swirled between them and carried the warm glow out into the lake, where it drifted to a stop under the reflection of the moon. He apologized and said that he wished things were different. That he didn’t want things to be the way they were anymore. That he was tired. That he felt so alone in the world that most nights it just hurt to consider the next day’s trials. He hated who he had become. The lantern’s light began to extinguish at the lake’s center, and she knew the moment was about to pass.
Zuko gently shrugged off her arm and turned to leave.
“Wait.” She said. The light flickered, and he turned to face her, and she could swear she saw hope in his eyes.
“Stay.” Katara continued, her breath failing and heart pounding. “With me.”
She bit her lip and pushed away the pessimism in her mind. “With us,” she added shakily.
The low orange glow in the middle of the lake dimmed, then blazed to life as his eyes grew wide. She wasn’t sure whether it was the right choice -- making such an offer to him -- then his breath shuddered once. He drew it back, steadying himself, and embraced her. She wrapped her arms around his middle and felt a small smile touch her lips as his head nodded twice fervently, just above the crook of her neck. The candle in the lantern returned to a gentle glow and flickered, and the small wooden boat bobbed, and the sounds of the night continued their chant, and they weren’t alone.
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