Post by brilliantlygreen on May 16, 2007 20:09:10 GMT -5
Summary: Three years since the war ended. Three years since Katara's death. Three years of loneliness. Aang would never have been alone if Katara had lived. He would be happy if Katara had lived. He would be loved if Katara had lived. But those were only dreams. And eventually, dreaming must end.
(I had to put up a summary since this was nominated for FF awards.)
Anyway. This story was slightly inspired by the lyric, "Why live life from dream to dream? And dread the day when dreaming ends.." From Moulin Rouge.
I might use this thread for more than just this story, and post my new drabbles and oneshots in here. I haven't decided.
- When Dreaming Ends -
Every now and then, a person gets this feeling. This feeling of loneliness, abandonment, and agony. No one really knows where it comes from or how long it will last, but they try to find the first possible thing to get the feeling of gladness back into their hearts.
For Aang, this feeling was always there. It never left. For years he had tried searching for the love and joy that had once filled his heart, but it was gone. Forever.
He had actually learned to perfect the look of happiness. He had to. He was the Avatar; it was his job to keep peace. He couldn’t do that with heartache etched into every line of his countenance. The façade was all people needed to feel comfort. He put on this face when he visited different towns in different nations to make sure life was remaining tranquil around the world.
Every time he came across an old town that he had stopped by years before, he always received the same question: “Where’s that water tribe girl that was with you?” or “Where’s your friends?” or –his personal favorite- “Why are you alone?”
Alone. The word struck deep into the core of his body until an overwhelming feeling of numbness encompassed his entire being.
“…Aang? ....Aang??” They would call him back into reality as they waited for an answer, a look of curiosity mixed with interest on their faces.
“She’s gone.” He would reply simply.
They would watch him for a moment to see if he would explain more, but he never did. The silence that followed had an eerie way of answering their unasked questions, causing them to find sudden interest in their cuticles or a bird in the sky. Every now and then, someone would reply with a quiet ‘I’m sorry’ before deciding they had somewhere to be at that exact moment.
How do you comfort the avatar? The epitome of hope, joy, love and peace? To see him suffer was hard for people, and the awkwardness left them with nothing to say. Every time they would ask him about her, he would slip back to the day…the horrible memory…where his entire life changed…
The field was dead. Everything was dead. The trees, the grass, the people. Limbs were removed, heads were decapitated, everyone dead. He had just left the fire lords palace, after watching earth kingdom soldiers drag the body away. Aang had done what he was meant to do. Now it was time to find his friends.
Off in the distance, he could see a small group of water tribe warriors searching through bodies for anyone still alive. Aang scanned the land for his friends, but only came across earth kingdom and fire nation soldiers attempting to stand and get to the water tribesmen for help.
It was then when he heard the most heart wrenching scream come from behind him. Aang noticed that no one even looked up or was the least bit surprised at the noise. They were immune to the sound of death and sorrow.
Aang turned around slowly to see Sokka’s back. He was kneeled on the ground, hunched over. His body was shaking violently, and Aang could tell his arms were wrapped tight around something.
Aang approached slowly, “…Sokka?” He asked almost inaudibly. Sokka didn’t move. Aang slowly walked up behind him till he could see what was in his arms.
Katara.
An icy cold shiver ran down Aang’s entire body. His limbs went numb, causing him to subconsciously collapse to the ground on all fours. Every organ in his body seemed to liquefy as his head began to spin.
For what seemed like hours, Aang stared at her. Her natural dark complexion was now quite a few shades lighter except for a few bruises here and there. Her clothes were torn and her body was limp in Sokka’s arms.
Aang slowly looked up to Sokka, who was sobbing so hard, no sound came out.
Aang couldn’t accept it. He just couldn’t. Katara wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be.
Aang couldn’t take her body from Sokka, no matter how bad he wanted to hold her and touch her.
He thought of all the times he spent with her. All of the wonderful moments that had helped him grow to love her. He had dreamed of this battle…this victory. Everything had turned out so well in his dreams.
He would have confessed his love to her and kissed her. They would have spent the rest of their lives together, picking flowers, dancing, star gazing and laughing. He would have married her. She would have had his children. He would have given her the world. But all of those moments had been ripped from his grasp so brutally that he wasn’t sure what emotion to feel.
Why Katara? Why the most wonderful, beautiful, stunning, caring, sweet, amazing woman in the world?
Aang wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there, but he was awoken from his trance by Sokka lightly kicking him. Aang looked up, surprised that Sokka had got up without Aang noticing.
Katara was in his arms and looked like nothing but a sleeping princess.
“Where’s Appa?” He asked.
“Sokka, she’s…”
“I’m not leaving her out here.”
Aang nodded as he pulled out his bison whistle to call Appa.
The fact that Katara was dead had yet to sink in to Aang. He was still in shock.
It wasn’t until they were on the back of Appa, soaring towards the South Pole, when Sokka gently laid her lifeless body onto Aang’s lap and into his arms. It hit him.
Aang immediately pulled her close, and began sobbing into her hair. He curled up against her and hugged her so tight, it was as if he was clinging onto her for his own life.
Each second that passed, he cried harder. He had dreamed of her body against his. But not in this way. This was not how his dreams were supposed to end.
His eyes clamped shut, one hand around hers, the other holding her head close to his chest, he brought his knees up so his body almost formed a barrier around her as he continued to cry. The love of his life was gone.
- - -
Three years had passed, and the memory was clear in his mind as if it happened just the night before.
Late at night, he found himself wishing that the sibling’s places had been switched, and Sokka would have been taken. He would always internally beat himself up for this, because he knew it was a horrible thought, and he loved Sokka. But it just wasn’t the same.
As he curled up on Appa’s saddle, he held her mother’s necklace tight in his hand, and covered himself with her parka.
He slept like this every night. It was all that he had left of her. It was all that he had at all. He had no one anymore. Sokka in the South Pole, Toph with her parents.
It was just like the villagers said. He was alone.
The cold breeze stabbed at his skin like tiny icicles. He shivered, thinking of how warm it would be if Katara was next to him. He thought that every night. He would never have been alone if Katara had lived. He would be happy if Katara had lived. He would be loved if Katara had lived.
But those were only dreams. And eventually, dreaming must end.
(I had to put up a summary since this was nominated for FF awards.)
Anyway. This story was slightly inspired by the lyric, "Why live life from dream to dream? And dread the day when dreaming ends.." From Moulin Rouge.
I might use this thread for more than just this story, and post my new drabbles and oneshots in here. I haven't decided.
- When Dreaming Ends -
Every now and then, a person gets this feeling. This feeling of loneliness, abandonment, and agony. No one really knows where it comes from or how long it will last, but they try to find the first possible thing to get the feeling of gladness back into their hearts.
For Aang, this feeling was always there. It never left. For years he had tried searching for the love and joy that had once filled his heart, but it was gone. Forever.
He had actually learned to perfect the look of happiness. He had to. He was the Avatar; it was his job to keep peace. He couldn’t do that with heartache etched into every line of his countenance. The façade was all people needed to feel comfort. He put on this face when he visited different towns in different nations to make sure life was remaining tranquil around the world.
Every time he came across an old town that he had stopped by years before, he always received the same question: “Where’s that water tribe girl that was with you?” or “Where’s your friends?” or –his personal favorite- “Why are you alone?”
Alone. The word struck deep into the core of his body until an overwhelming feeling of numbness encompassed his entire being.
“…Aang? ....Aang??” They would call him back into reality as they waited for an answer, a look of curiosity mixed with interest on their faces.
“She’s gone.” He would reply simply.
They would watch him for a moment to see if he would explain more, but he never did. The silence that followed had an eerie way of answering their unasked questions, causing them to find sudden interest in their cuticles or a bird in the sky. Every now and then, someone would reply with a quiet ‘I’m sorry’ before deciding they had somewhere to be at that exact moment.
How do you comfort the avatar? The epitome of hope, joy, love and peace? To see him suffer was hard for people, and the awkwardness left them with nothing to say. Every time they would ask him about her, he would slip back to the day…the horrible memory…where his entire life changed…
The field was dead. Everything was dead. The trees, the grass, the people. Limbs were removed, heads were decapitated, everyone dead. He had just left the fire lords palace, after watching earth kingdom soldiers drag the body away. Aang had done what he was meant to do. Now it was time to find his friends.
Off in the distance, he could see a small group of water tribe warriors searching through bodies for anyone still alive. Aang scanned the land for his friends, but only came across earth kingdom and fire nation soldiers attempting to stand and get to the water tribesmen for help.
It was then when he heard the most heart wrenching scream come from behind him. Aang noticed that no one even looked up or was the least bit surprised at the noise. They were immune to the sound of death and sorrow.
Aang turned around slowly to see Sokka’s back. He was kneeled on the ground, hunched over. His body was shaking violently, and Aang could tell his arms were wrapped tight around something.
Aang approached slowly, “…Sokka?” He asked almost inaudibly. Sokka didn’t move. Aang slowly walked up behind him till he could see what was in his arms.
Katara.
An icy cold shiver ran down Aang’s entire body. His limbs went numb, causing him to subconsciously collapse to the ground on all fours. Every organ in his body seemed to liquefy as his head began to spin.
For what seemed like hours, Aang stared at her. Her natural dark complexion was now quite a few shades lighter except for a few bruises here and there. Her clothes were torn and her body was limp in Sokka’s arms.
Aang slowly looked up to Sokka, who was sobbing so hard, no sound came out.
Aang couldn’t accept it. He just couldn’t. Katara wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be.
Aang couldn’t take her body from Sokka, no matter how bad he wanted to hold her and touch her.
He thought of all the times he spent with her. All of the wonderful moments that had helped him grow to love her. He had dreamed of this battle…this victory. Everything had turned out so well in his dreams.
He would have confessed his love to her and kissed her. They would have spent the rest of their lives together, picking flowers, dancing, star gazing and laughing. He would have married her. She would have had his children. He would have given her the world. But all of those moments had been ripped from his grasp so brutally that he wasn’t sure what emotion to feel.
Why Katara? Why the most wonderful, beautiful, stunning, caring, sweet, amazing woman in the world?
Aang wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there, but he was awoken from his trance by Sokka lightly kicking him. Aang looked up, surprised that Sokka had got up without Aang noticing.
Katara was in his arms and looked like nothing but a sleeping princess.
“Where’s Appa?” He asked.
“Sokka, she’s…”
“I’m not leaving her out here.”
Aang nodded as he pulled out his bison whistle to call Appa.
The fact that Katara was dead had yet to sink in to Aang. He was still in shock.
It wasn’t until they were on the back of Appa, soaring towards the South Pole, when Sokka gently laid her lifeless body onto Aang’s lap and into his arms. It hit him.
Aang immediately pulled her close, and began sobbing into her hair. He curled up against her and hugged her so tight, it was as if he was clinging onto her for his own life.
Each second that passed, he cried harder. He had dreamed of her body against his. But not in this way. This was not how his dreams were supposed to end.
His eyes clamped shut, one hand around hers, the other holding her head close to his chest, he brought his knees up so his body almost formed a barrier around her as he continued to cry. The love of his life was gone.
- - -
Three years had passed, and the memory was clear in his mind as if it happened just the night before.
Late at night, he found himself wishing that the sibling’s places had been switched, and Sokka would have been taken. He would always internally beat himself up for this, because he knew it was a horrible thought, and he loved Sokka. But it just wasn’t the same.
As he curled up on Appa’s saddle, he held her mother’s necklace tight in his hand, and covered himself with her parka.
He slept like this every night. It was all that he had left of her. It was all that he had at all. He had no one anymore. Sokka in the South Pole, Toph with her parents.
It was just like the villagers said. He was alone.
The cold breeze stabbed at his skin like tiny icicles. He shivered, thinking of how warm it would be if Katara was next to him. He thought that every night. He would never have been alone if Katara had lived. He would be happy if Katara had lived. He would be loved if Katara had lived.
But those were only dreams. And eventually, dreaming must end.
