Lights will guide you home
Apr. 21st, 2009 11:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
timepiececlockAbout 2+ years ago I wrote a season 2 Avatar fanfic called "Guide Me Home", where I played with the idea of two characters sharing each other's dreams. It wasn't detailed or developed enough, but I enjoyed giving both Katara and Zuko chances to peak into each other's headspaces.
I ended the first chapter with on character setting off to track down the other, and I always meant to write a second half to show what happened when they met. But I was never able to properly conceptualize what I wanted from my head onto words on onscreen. I was obsessed with the song "Fix You" by Coldplay, and it bled into the mood of the ficlet. I wanted, very much, to show the energy and drive Katara felt to go retrieve Zuko. It's not even expressly romantic, could be based on pure friendship. They've shared this intense spiritual experience, and when something happens in Zuko's half of events to drive him to the mental break point, Katara knows it has happened, and decides to go get him. She no longer questions that it's real or not, or even that he would want to join the gaang, she just knows that he's alone and vulnerable and that she has to bring him back with her--that their dreams have been leading up to exactly this moment. It's what Katara does: she goes after the people who need her help, and doesn't give up on them.
But when I tried to write that moment, I got intense writer's block. Almost like I was afraid to mess it up. Eventually, a year later, I wrote the few paragraphs you see below. Unfortunately it's not really enough to add to the fic on ff.net as a new chapter. That makes me sad, because all told I got 69 reviews for the first chapter, and that's a high enough number that I feel ashamed to not give them more.
The darkness was full and heavy beneath the forest, but from the moment Appa broken the canopy Katara could see for miles. The moon was high and waxing, shining light that reflected off distant clouds and a slithering river. Katara looking over the landscape, set Appa to follow the river. Vivid images of her dreams tugged at the corners of her eyes: a twisting bank of water, a burning pyre. It was not coincidence and it was not a mistake that Zuko and Iroh had been following the same river as the Avatar's party. Water was life, water was community, and less than a four hundred miles away this same river fed silt to the farmlands of Ba Sing Se.
On Appa's back Katara clung to her hope and her bravado as tightly as she clung to the bison. White fur twisted between her fingers, and she murmured reassurances to the giant beast that this was the right thing to do. This was the only thing to do.
If Aang had been conscious enough to ask her why she thought it was necessary to take such careless risk, Katara probably would have answered with a lie. How could she tell Aang that somewhere out there, lost in the moonlight, the son of his enemy was weeping, and that she--Katara--knew in her bones that they needed him? How could she tell Aang that for weeks his best friend had been dreaming of the enemy, talking to the enemy, coaxing a friend out of a villain? How could she possibly tell this to the Avatar, and then admit that maybe, in the end, none of it was real?
That was the beautiful thing about Aang, though. As well as Katara knew that Iroh was dead and Zuko was vulnerable, she also knew that Aang's response would be one of perfect faith and moral fortitude. He wouldn't turn her away, he wouldn't disbelieve her. He would be on the back of great flying bison with her, hoping and praying at her side because someone out there needed his help. The Avatar was meant for such things, born for these moments, and that's why she'd left him behind.
A column of smoke curled above the hills not far from their camp, white and ashy in the brilliant moonlight.
I ended the first chapter with on character setting off to track down the other, and I always meant to write a second half to show what happened when they met. But I was never able to properly conceptualize what I wanted from my head onto words on onscreen. I was obsessed with the song "Fix You" by Coldplay, and it bled into the mood of the ficlet. I wanted, very much, to show the energy and drive Katara felt to go retrieve Zuko. It's not even expressly romantic, could be based on pure friendship. They've shared this intense spiritual experience, and when something happens in Zuko's half of events to drive him to the mental break point, Katara knows it has happened, and decides to go get him. She no longer questions that it's real or not, or even that he would want to join the gaang, she just knows that he's alone and vulnerable and that she has to bring him back with her--that their dreams have been leading up to exactly this moment. It's what Katara does: she goes after the people who need her help, and doesn't give up on them.
But when I tried to write that moment, I got intense writer's block. Almost like I was afraid to mess it up. Eventually, a year later, I wrote the few paragraphs you see below. Unfortunately it's not really enough to add to the fic on ff.net as a new chapter. That makes me sad, because all told I got 69 reviews for the first chapter, and that's a high enough number that I feel ashamed to not give them more.
The darkness was full and heavy beneath the forest, but from the moment Appa broken the canopy Katara could see for miles. The moon was high and waxing, shining light that reflected off distant clouds and a slithering river. Katara looking over the landscape, set Appa to follow the river. Vivid images of her dreams tugged at the corners of her eyes: a twisting bank of water, a burning pyre. It was not coincidence and it was not a mistake that Zuko and Iroh had been following the same river as the Avatar's party. Water was life, water was community, and less than a four hundred miles away this same river fed silt to the farmlands of Ba Sing Se.
On Appa's back Katara clung to her hope and her bravado as tightly as she clung to the bison. White fur twisted between her fingers, and she murmured reassurances to the giant beast that this was the right thing to do. This was the only thing to do.
If Aang had been conscious enough to ask her why she thought it was necessary to take such careless risk, Katara probably would have answered with a lie. How could she tell Aang that somewhere out there, lost in the moonlight, the son of his enemy was weeping, and that she--Katara--knew in her bones that they needed him? How could she tell Aang that for weeks his best friend had been dreaming of the enemy, talking to the enemy, coaxing a friend out of a villain? How could she possibly tell this to the Avatar, and then admit that maybe, in the end, none of it was real?
That was the beautiful thing about Aang, though. As well as Katara knew that Iroh was dead and Zuko was vulnerable, she also knew that Aang's response would be one of perfect faith and moral fortitude. He wouldn't turn her away, he wouldn't disbelieve her. He would be on the back of great flying bison with her, hoping and praying at her side because someone out there needed his help. The Avatar was meant for such things, born for these moments, and that's why she'd left him behind.
A column of smoke curled above the hills not far from their camp, white and ashy in the brilliant moonlight.
