He hasn't left her side in days, but tonight, he's decided that he needs to get some air. That room, that palace, had become much too red and much too painful. For a little while, at least, he's been able to find just a bit of solace in the cool greens and blues of the garden in the evening. He thinks that maybe, if he sits still enough by the pond, he can trick himself into think that nothing has changed.

It doesn't last, though.

The servant that has approached from behind had made every effort not to startle him, but her attempt wasn't exactly fruitful. The Firelord's shoulders tense when he hears a twig snap underneath her foot.

"Forgive me, your Grace…" She begins with a brittle, trembling voice. "I was sent for you. The Firelady has come to."

...

The corridors have all seemed to stretch on forever, lengthening and narrowing with each step. A trek through a desert or up a mountain would have been less daunting. When he finally reaches the door, the four guards stationed there all bow their allegiance, but there's something much less proud about the gesture, and more solemn. Their heads stay inclined for just a little longer than they would have otherwise, and the way they avert their eyes is deliberate and uneasy.

It is then that the door creeks open, and the midwife emerges. She jumps a little, startled at Zuko's presence.

"Oh… my Lord, I didn't expect you to return so quickly."

"How is she?" His voice is low and tired.

"Exhausted. Confused…" She pauses, swallowing hard.

"…What else?"

Rather than answer, she takes in an uncertain breath.

"What. Else." Now there's grit in his tone.

"My Lord, I'm afraid she… she doesn't remember."

"…What do you mean?" The tightness in his chest grows painful.

"She's asking to see her baby, my Lord."

He inhales suddenly, nearly choking as he reaches one hand out to support himself on the doorframe. "Are you telling me. That I have to go in there. And explain to my wife that… that…"

"…Unless you'd prefer to task someone else with the responsibility, in which case-"

"No." He interrupts, swallowing down the thick, painful feeling swelling in his throat. "No. Excuse me." He nudges her aside with his forearm, and, before he can talk himself out of it, pushes the door open and steps inside.

It's dim - the only light comes from a few candles on the dresser and bedside table - and in the center of the bed, propped up on pillows, lies Katara, wilted and weak with her head lolled over to one side. At the sound of him entering, though, she manages to sit up a little, raising one hand to wipe at the sweat on her forehead.

"Zuko?"

He could almost weep at the sound of her voice - it had only been a day or two ago that he worried he may never hear it again. She's hoarse and quiet and pained, but oh, it sounds lovely.

"Yeah."

"Oh, god. Zuko. Zuko, would you please tell that woman that I want to see our baby? I don't know what she's waiting for."

He stands there for a minute, silent and unmoving.

"Zuko." She's impatient, and rightfully so. "Go tell her."

He exhales a trembling breath before pacing to the bedside, and Katara's eyes - still bleary and swollen - follow him critically as he lowers himself to sit. For the moment, his back is to her, and he's got one hand on his elbow while the other covers his mouth as he shakes his head.

"…Hey." Katara urges, the newfound strength in her voice only mustered up from fear. She makes a few frustrated noises, exerting herself to wiggle over nearer to him. "Zuko, what's going on? Stop-… stop shaking your head like that. Would you look at me? You're scaring me."

"…You really don't remember anything." He breathes a miserable sigh.

"What?"

"Katara…"

"Zuko, if you don't tell me what's going on right now…" But she doesn't finish. She isn't sure she wants to know.

He turns to face her, then. As much as it will wreck him inside, he figures he should at least look her in her eyes. "…Katara, it was a long, hard labor."

"…So?" She stares back, wide-eyed and terrified, clamoring forward to grip his hands.

He only barely manages to choke out, "A lot of things went wrong."

"No…"

"I almost lost you." His hand raises to brush the backs of his fingers across her cheek - a gesture which she very nearly flinches away from.

"Zuko…" She exhales in a desperate plea. "Just tell me where my baby is."

"…Our daughter didn't survive, Katara."

For a moment, the blank look in her eyes, and the expansive silence, seems worse to Zuko than if she'd outright screamed. Her hands on his go cold and clammy, sliding upward until she's gripping the collar of his robe and pulling him slightly forward.

Then, as though she hadn't heard him, "Where… is our baby?"

He covers her hands with his. "Katara," he manages around the lump in his throat. "She died. She didn't make it."

"…What?" The word escapes as a tiny whimper, her grip on his robe tightening until her fingers ache.

"Please don't make me say it again." He begs, willing the wetness collecting in his eyes not to spill over.

"What? No, no, no, what do you mean? Zuko… Zuko…" The sobs that begin to surge through her body are painful, burning in her throat and throbbing in her core as she clings to her husband. Zuko thinks he can see the life drain right out of her, the same way it drained from their tiny, pale baby girl, right in his arms.

He draws her into an embrace, then, nestling his face in her hair. She's wailing against his chest, her nails digging angrily at the back of his neck, and though he'd meant to be strong for her, he finds himself falling apart all over again. He'd only been a week or so ahead in grieving their loss, but now… now it's fresh again. Fresh and gnarly, and there's nothing he can do to stave off the weeping any longer.

...

The grief permeates the entire palace, and if any of the servants and staff listen hard enough in what initially feels like silence, the Lord and Lady's cries can be heard - dark, like shadows on the walls.

...

Author's Note: This was a tiny little story that I had initially planned to write for the Zutara Week "melancholy" theme, but I ultimately decided that this was way beyond "melancholy," and decided to save it for later. "Later" came when an anon on tumblr messaged me today with a prompt for Zuko and Katara losing a baby. So I whipped this up real quick. There is a very good chance that I'll expound upon it later, either in a companion fic, or in an all-out rewrite, so stay tuned. :)

Also, to those of you who have been waiting for my Toko story update... I'm sorry. I suck. I'll get around to it. I swear on everything I well.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. :)