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Zutara Week 2014: Unrequited The light from the crystals falls across them jade green like the shadows of bamboo stalks. His eyes are golden and warm like fire whiskey, and they burn her just like it to. She holds up the container of Spirit Water as an offering for what she cannot say. He closes his eyes, and she presses the tips of her fingers to the patch of rough, red skin across his eye. She does not hesitate, and he does not flinch. *** “I thought you had changed,” she cries and hurls all of the water, all of her fury, all of herself at him. “I did,” he replies, and fire blooms in his hands as he meets her rag

Zutara Week 2014: Cobalt Blue Fire Lord Zuko sat at his study twirling the crown of his station between his fingers. The gold gleamed in the candlelight like the gilding on the furniture and cuffs and hems of his robes and tunics. Everything was red and gold in the Fire Nation, blood and fire. He thought once that those were his colors. After all, they were the colors of his family. They had been his father’s colors and his grandfather’s and his great grandfather’s. Now looking back on his life in the quietness of the night, Zuko realized it was blue that had painted his life. He had been swimming in it and never even reali

Zutara Week 2014 Jubilant Fireworks burst in the sky overhead, sprays of red, gold, and green light scattering across the blackness of the night. It was the thirteenth annual jubilee of the end of 100 Year War, the anniversary of the day that the Avatar had defeated Phoenix Lord Ozai. Cheers went up as another explosion went off, the people drunk off free wine and food and sheer happiness at the fact that they drew another breath. Down below, the people of the Fire Nation rejoiced at the reminder that the tyranny was over though the cost had been dear. From a balcony high above the sea of churning masses, Fire Lord Zuko looked down on his pe

Zutara Week 1: Melancholy Based off of a scene in How to Train Your Dragon 2 Mist curled around their feet as they ran to the dock. The sun was just cresting over the water, turning the whole world soft pink and purple. Katara stopped in front of him to stare out at the sunrise, the heat rising off the sea making the gossamer of her veil waft in the breeze. Zuko padded up beside her, huffing and puffing. He rested the palms of his hands of his knees and the joints creaked. “Slow down. I’m not as young as I once was, and being the Fire Lord has made me more out of shape then I would like to think.” “No, we are not a