The Intimate Scene We Should Have Gotten
(This short fanfic of mine takes place at the same time as the boiling rock episode where Sokka and Zuko go break suki and sokkas dad out of prison. NOTE: AM I COMPLETE AMATEUR)
Chapter: The Field of Blue Flowers
The war never stopped taking.
The eclipse had failed. The invasion had collapsed. Friends had been captured, and hope had once again slipped through their fingers.
Tomorrow, they would return to the fight.
But today...
Today belonged to Kya.
---
The Fire Nation war balloon rested quietly against the morning breeze, its thick ropes tethered firmly to the ground. Zuko inspected the burner while Sokka tightened the straps of his armor one final time.
Katara stood nearby, watching her brother in silence.
"You don't have to leave today," she said at last.
Sokka looked at her, a tired smile crossing his face.
"I know."
He reached into his satchel and produced a small cloth bundle.
"I almost forgot."
He placed it gently into Katara's hands.
She unfolded the fabric.
Inside sat a neat stack of ginger cookies.
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
"Mom's favorite."
Sokka nodded.
"When you and Zuko searched those Fire Nation records... you found the exact day."
Katara lowered her eyes.
For years they had never known when Kya died.
The Southern Water Tribe rarely marked the passing of days with calendars. Life followed the tides, the seasons, the changing ice.
Dates disappeared.
Memories didn't.
Now, for the first time, she knew exactly when her mother had been taken from them.
She had made herself a promise.
This day would never become a day of mourning.
It would become a day of remembrance.
A day to celebrate Kya's kindness.
Her laughter.
Her courage.
Sokka rested a hand on her shoulder.
"I kept thinking I should stay."
Katara looked up.
"But then I realized..." he continued, "...Mom gave her life protecting the people she loved."
His thoughts drifted somewhere far away.
"Today, I'm going to honor her by saving someone else I love."
"Suki."
He smiled.
"Suki."
Katara wrapped her arms around him.
"I know you'll bring her home."
"I'll do my best."
They held each other for another moment before Sokka climbed into the balloon beside Zuko.
The ropes were released.
Slowly, the balloon rose into the pale morning sky.
Katara watched until it became only a tiny silhouette against the clouds.
---
"I know a place."
She turned.
Aang stood a few paces behind her.
His staff rested against one shoulder.
"What kind of place?"
He smiled.
"A beautiful one."
---
Katara stopped walking.
Before her stretched an endless sea of blue flowers, swaying gently beneath the afternoon wind like waves upon an ocean.
She let out a quiet breath.
"They're beautiful."
"I found this place while flying."
Aang looked across the field.
"They reminded me of the ocean."
Katara knelt among the blossoms.
She brushed one delicate petal between her fingers.
"Flowers almost never grew at the South Pole."
A warm smile appeared.
"My mother loved them."
Together they gathered smooth stones and built a simple altar in the center of the field.
Nothing grand.
Nothing elaborate.
Just a small place where memory could rest.
Katara carefully placed Kya's necklace upon the stone.
Beside it she laid the ginger cookies.
The wind stirred softly around them.
For a long while, neither of them spoke.
---
Aang lowered himself onto the grass beside her.
Not too close.
Just close enough.
After several quiet minutes he asked,
"Tell me about your mom."
Katara looked at him, surprised.
"What?"
"I want to know about her."
She tilted her head.
"Why?"
Aang looked toward the altar.
"Because your mother raised one of the people I've come to love and care for most in this world."
Katara's expression softened.
"She must have been an amazing person."
He smiled.
"Help me know her."
His voice was almost playful.
"Tell me what made her smile."
Katara stared at the necklace resting atop the stones.
Then...
She smiled.
"You really want to hear stories?"
"I really do."
She folded her hands in her lap.
"She sang."
Aang's eyes lit up.
"Whenever she cooked?"
Katara laughed.
"When she cooked... when she cleaned... when she thought nobody was listening."
"What did she sing?"
"I honestly don't remember."
She smiled to herself.
"I was too little to pay attention."
A brief silence passed.
"I wish I had."
Story after story followed.
She told him about evenings gathered around the fire while snow battered the walls outside.
She spoke about her mother's terrible jokes that somehow always made Sokka laugh.
About the way Kya would secretly slip Sokka an extra serving whenever Hakoda wasn't looking.
About the careful way she braided Katara's hair before celebrations.
About the afternoon she slipped on the ice while carrying fish, laughed so hard she couldn't stand up, and somehow convinced everyone else to laugh with her.
Aang laughed until tears nearly came to his eyes.
He asked questions.
Little ones.
What was her favorite meal?
Did she have a favorite song?
Could she waterbend?
Mostly...
He listened.
Hours slipped away unnoticed.
For the first time since losing her...
Katara wasn't remembering how her mother died.
She was remembering how she lived.
---
Far away...
Steel rang against steel.
Sokka and Zuko fought through the Boiling Rock, refusing to leave without Suki and the others.
---
Back in the field, the sun had begun to sink below the horizon.
Golden light washed over the blue flowers.
Katara's smile slowly faded.
She looked at the altar.
The silence settled around her once more.
She blinked several times, swallowing hard.
"I'm okay," she whispered before anyone had asked.
Aang looked at her.
She offered him a reassuring smile.
The same smile she always wore whenever someone else needed her.
"I'm fine."
He didn't answer.
Instead he quietly said,
"Katara."
She looked away.
"No..."
Her voice remained steady.
"I'm alright."
Another pause.
Then Aang slowly opened his arms.
Not asking.
Not insisting.
Simply making the offer.
"Do you want a hug?"
Katara stared at him.
Every instinct told her to shake her head.
To smile.
To be strong.
Like always.
Instead...
She stepped into his embrace.
She rested her forehead against his shoulder and closed her eyes.
For several moments, there was only silence.
No tears came.
She held them back.
She always had.
Aang gently rested one hand against the back of her head.
"Katara..."
She breathed slowly.
"You're one of the strongest people I've ever known."
Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his robe.
"But strength doesn't mean carrying everything alone."
His voice softened.
"You don't have to fight your feelings."
"They're part of you."
"Let them flow through you."
He paused.
Then whispered,
"Just for tonight..."
"You don't have to be strong."
Something inside her finally gave way.
The breath she had been holding for years escaped in a trembling sob.
Then another.
Her hands clutched the back of Aang's robes as tears streamed freely down her face.
She had held everyone together for so long.
Now...
Someone was holding her.
Aang said nothing.
He simply stayed.
He let her cry until there was nothing left to hide.
Only then did he whisper,
"It's okay."
His arms tightened around her.
"I'm here for you."
A gentle breeze carried blue petals into the air.
"Always."
The flowers swayed beneath the evening sky.
The altar stood quietly among them.
A daughter's love.
A mother's memory.
And, in the stillness between them, the beginning of a love built not on grand gestures...
...but on the simple promise that neither of them would ever have to face the world's burdens alone.