|Come to Me
Author: Jakia PM
Come find me when you’ve figured it out. When you finally realize that you hate your father, that you hate this war, and death, and blood. I will forgive you. But first, realize that you need to be forgiven. [zutara, some jetara later one. part 2 up]Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Angst/Supernatural - Katara & Zuko - Chapters: 3 - Words: 3,337 - Reviews: 34 - Favs: 21 - Follows: 35 - Updated: 07-02-07 - Published: 02-01-07 - id: 3371501
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
We shall meet again, my Prince.
We shall meet again, or we shan't meet at all, because we'll be dead and gone and the world reborn, if that's the case. I believe we will meet again, if only because you need me. You don't know why you need me, but you do. You'll hunt the world once more, my Prince, but this time it will be to find me, not Aang the Avatar, who you need for your honor.
And I will be waiting for you.
Come find me when you've figured it. When you finally realize that you hate your father, that you hate this war, and death, and blood. Come to me for solace, for forgiveness. Look for me in the stars and the heavens. Come to me with tears in your eyes. Come with a stone face and walls around your heart. When you're finally tired of being alone, seek me out.
I will forgive you.
But first, realize that you need to be forgiven.
And when you do, come find me.
I'll wait for you by the stream at the end of the world, where the grass always smells of morning dew and the sun and the moon share the same sky. I'll wait for you in the endless desert, a wandering mirage your mind tricks you into believing. I'll be the statue of a goddess in the palace of your birth, made of stone and gold and not alive, but you'll stare at me just the same, if only for the blue in my eyes.
I don't know where I'll be, for sure, only that when you need me, you'll find me, and there I'll be.
I don't know when you'll find me, either. Perhaps I will be old, as old as my Gran-Gran and just as wise, with a blue-eyed granddaughter to call my own. You'll come to me out of a dream, with tired eyes and graying hair, but you'll be the same. Perhaps you'll have a desolate nephew of your own trailing after you, with a scowl that could rival your own. Our eyes will meet as your boots clinch in the snow, and you'll realize just how long it's been since we've seen each other last. You'll collapse in my arms, exhausted and desperate and finally, finally, aware of what you really need.
I will heal you then, my Prince, if only because I promised to once, and you've lived with your father's hatred for long enough.
Maybe you'll find me sooner. Maybe I won't be an old hag but a young woman, a grown woman, with breasts and hips and a husband, to boot. You'll wander in as if by accident, and oh what a surprise, such a good surprise, it will be to see you again. We'll talk for hours as if we were the best of friends, almost lovers, instead of mere acquaintances who shared one heart-felt conversation together in a cave. I'll have a haggle of children to call my own, who will watch you curiously even though I've told them to go to bed.
And then you will go to leave (really, you must leave, it wouldn't be right for you to stay), and I'll kiss you. Hard. Passionately. After all, isn't that what you came out here for, but didn't know it? In some ways, that's healing, too, because now you are free. Lost, confused, and still so very unsure, but you have my forgiveness and maybe my love, and that's all you've ever really needed, isn't it?
…Maybe I'm thinking too broadly. Maybe I'm not giving you enough credit—you are stubborn, my Prince, but all people learn in time. Maybe you'll come to me in a week, a month, a year, the same broken boy you've always been, with a sword in your hand and blood on your face and fire in your eyes. You'll stare at me from across the field where we both stand, as sunset, with you at the end with a falling sun and me at the side of the rising moon. You'll look at me as if I'm a stranger, a friend, a lover to you. And when the sun finally sets you'll finally allow yourself to fall to the ground, almost dead and ready to die.
I'll catch you, my Prince. And I won't let you die. And when you wake up, you can tell me of every petty mortal sin you've ever done, of every wrong that's ever been done against you, because for some strange reason you've never had a problem opening your heart to me. Maybe it's because you know I'm listening.
Come find me, my Prince. Come find me before the world ends.
With all my love,Katara
A/N: There will be more. Meh, it didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped it would. Ah well. It works.
And there is totally snow on the ground and I'm out of school. SCORE!