Zutara: Our Bond Grows

She watched him through tear-stained eyes as he rose, the man Hainen dead at his feet.  The swords at his sides were gruesome, splattered with the blood of her mother’s killer.  Without a thought to his own well-being, he had made the swift, decisive action to draw his swords and defend her against the demons of her past.  She had watched him make quick work of her enemy.  His movements were fast and accurate, and within seconds, the leader of the Southern Raiders lay dead at Zuko’s feet.

Katara’s eyes began to cloud over and she covered her face with her hands as she wept.  The shouts and jeers of fighting still echoed around her as the rest of the gang, including her brother, fought the remaining Southern Raiders.  The rumblings of the earth, the whistles in the air, and the clashing of the swords could not be heard in her ears.  The only sound was of her own sorrow and pain.

She could feel her entire body begin to shake as the weeping turned into sobbing.  Her knees were giving way and she fell into the puddle of water at her feet.  The cool, refreshing liquid only made her sorrow deepen as she thought of her mother.  It had been years since she’d seen her, and Katara felt her mind reaching for that image, that one solid glance, but the picture in her mind was fading.  With each tear that fell, she saw her mother’s face fleeing from her memory, slowly escaping from her thoughts and bringing all the anger and hate and pain of the past to the surface.  Katara balled her hands into fists and rubbed her eyes, trying to stop the tears, trying to stop the memory from fading.

Katara’s sorrow quickly turned to hate, hate for the man that lay dead only feet away from her.  This Hainen, this leader of the Southern Raiders, had ambushed her village and killed her mother, laying waste to a love she would never be able to regain and a memory that would be lost forever.  How could he?

The noise of feet shuffling towards her made her heart quicken.  It was Zuko, the Prince of the Fire Nation, a son of the very civilization that had killed her mother.  Her hate for him had seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.  How could he have joined them?  How could he see himself as redeemed?  How could he ask for their forgiveness, for hers?

Katara brought her hands down from her eyes to rest folded in her lap as the footsteps neared.  When she saw the golden braids that laced his boots and the emblazoned red colors that represented the Fire Nation, her hatred for this man and his culture swiftly rose to its boiling point and she was ready to lash out at him in fury.  But before she could, he knelt down before her and put a gentle hand upon her shoulder.  She could instantly feel the warmth coming from his touch and it soothed her pain and made her hatred subside.  Unconsciously she lifted her eyes to meet his and what she saw there was only compassion and heartfelt regret for his actions of the past.  She saw in his eyes a plea for forgiveness, for acceptance, a hope for that bond that had once been shared to be renewed.  The gold in his eyes sparkled as the fire burning around them and for the first time in her life, she found herself lost in the beauty of the flames.

“Katara,” he spoke softly.  “It is done.”  Those simple words made her weep once more, and without a second thought to her actions, she found herself falling into the arms of the man who had once been her enemy.  What she found in his warming embrace was like nothing she had felt before.  The strength in his arms surrounded her, keeping her safe; the warmth of his touch soothed her, taking away the pain; and the gentle caress of his hand down her hair and back made her heart race with a feeling she could not describe, a feeling that made her heart more alive than it had been in a long time.

As the tears continued to slip down her cheeks, Katara’s hands moved to clutch the fiery red fabric of Zuko’s tunic.  Her head slowly fell down to lay underneath his chin and against his chest.  Zuko did not resist her movements but only welcomed her into his embrace, bonding with her sorrow.  He too knew the pain of losing a mother, and he too wished for the memory of his mother to never fade from before his eyes.

As Zuko’s thoughts drifted to the memories of his own mother, he felt the tears begin to prick his own eyes.  He quickly shut them and tried to hold back his own pain at the loss of the person who had always been there to push him to be more than he ever thought possible.  Instead of dwelling on the past, he forced his mind to the present, and his embrace began to tighten around Katara as his head slowly dropped down to rest upon hers.  He understood every tear that fell from her eyes, every shiver that ran down her spine, but the tightening grasp that kept her near confused him and made his heart beat faster.  This young girl that held onto him had once offered to heal him, to help him, and now he found himself healing and helping her.  His mind began to question whether she would ever forgive his mistakes, and then he thought maybe, just maybe, she was already beginning to pardon him.

The sounds of fighting began to dim, but neither Zuko nor Katara noticed the silence that soon engulfed them.  Both were focused on the peace they had found in each other’s arms, on the sorrow they both could relate to, on the bond they equally shared.  And so when the rest of the gang came around the corner of a building nearby in the once quiet town, their commotion went unnoticed by the young man and the young girl he was holding in his arms, but their embrace was not so unnoticeable by the rest of them.  Sokka was the first to step forward, ready to say a biting word at Zuko, but then his eyes spotted the body of Hainen that lay in the dust just behind the pair.  His eyes widened in disbelief at the wound that was so obviously inflicted by a sword.  Zuko had defended his sister and, in turn, defended him.  Sokka knelt down behind Katara and put a hand on her shoulder, and, in an act of gratitude, he put another hand on the shoulder of the man who had slayed his mother’s killer.

After Sokka had knelt behind Katara, Toph came to kneel beside Sokka with a hand on his shoulder as well as his sister’s.  Haru, Teo, and The Duke also stepped forward but remained standing around the group.  For Aang, upon seeing Katara in Zuko’s arms, he didn’t know what to think.  He could only stand in amazement at how easily she had fallen into his arms, weeping openly.  A sharp pain gripped Aang’s heart, but upon seeing Hainen’s dead body only feet away, his pain lost significance as he too knelt down beside Zuko and Katara, putting a gentle hand on either one of their shoulders.  Soon the simple cries from Katara were mixed with those of her brother as he too let the tears fall from his eyes over the loss of his mother at Hainen’s hand.  And quick to follow were those of Aang’s at his friends’ sorrow.  Haru, Teo, and The Duke knelt down to reassure them all but found themselves falling subject to the grief that was so evident among the group.  Even Toph had tears rolling down her cheeks.  The gang put their arms around each other, but no arms were as tight as those of Zuko’s around Katara.