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Chapter Text

A strong south-western wind made the sails bulge and let Zuko’s robes flap around his legs. He watched as the great ship with its green flags lowered the gangway and the passengers started to disembark. Parcels of various sizes as well as the usual crates filled with merchandise from the Earth Kingdom were unloaded and coolies ran back and forth, their backs bent under their heavy loads. Zuko’s mouth remained a straight line, but his eyes softened at this sight of prosperity. And then, between the brown-clad merchants, cursing seamen and sweating laborers, almost brighter than the sunlit ocean, a spot of blue appeared. There she was.
He walked down the steps to the dock, and the captain of the ship hurried towards him, bowing deeply.
“Y-your Highness,” he stuttered, his face red, but Zuko only nodded. He was too impatient to meet his guest, who neither bowed nor blushed when he greeted her.
“Welcome back, Katara.”
“Hi Zuko. It’s been a while,” she smiled with tired eyes. She wore a simple Earth Kingdom-style robe, in a hue that rivaled the summer sky. He took her arm and they turned their backs to the bustling docks, walking up the broad steps to the city.
“I am happy you’re here. How was your journey?” he asked.
“I’d forgotten how long it took, but the sea was calm and I loved being on the water again.”
“Of course. Don’t you have any luggage?”
“Only this bag. I didn’t need anything else.”
He noticed she didn’t sound very enthusiastic. The wind blew strands of hair in her face that had escaped from her long braid, and again he saw the fatigue in her eyes.
“You must be tired. The palanquin is waiting nearby.”
She smiled. “That’s very kind of you.”
On their way to the palace, in the hobbling palanquin, she was quiet. Zuko inwardly cursed himself for not knowing how to make easy conversation. She had never been this introverted. Where was the chattering girl that had made him both annoyed and jealous with her youth and carefreeness?
“How is Toph? And your brother?” he finally asked, a little abruptly.
“Oh, they’re fine. Well, actually I haven’t seen Sokka in a long time, he’s back at the South Pole with Suki and the children, but I was staying with Toph in Ba Sing Se when I received your letter. Her school’s doing great.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
And then he knew nothing more to say without mentioning the sore subject that pressed upon them with the weight of an elephant in the small, dark palanquin.
He swallowed and reprimanded himself. He’d have to ask sooner or later.
“So how have you been, since you left… since you came to Ba Sing Se?”
“I won’t die if you mention Aang’s name, you know,” she said. It sounded sharper that she’d meant and she quickly said: “Sorry, that was harsh. I appreciate that you’re trying to be considerate, but I just hate how everyone is tiptoeing around it. I’m doing fine.”
“I’m sorry,” Zuko said. “I’m not good at this.”
Now she smiled genuinely. “I know. Don’t worry. Of course I’ve been sad, but life in the city was a nice change, and I was happy to spend time with Toph. Though she’s never very affectionate. You should’ve seen the way she said goodbye, as if I was only going grocery shopping.”
Zuko laughed at the memory of that tough little woman. Then Katara looked at him sideways.
“Have you had any contact with Aang at all?”
“Very little. Only political business, but recently we haven’t had any major issues to worry about. So I haven’t heard from him in quite a while.”
She nodded. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from asking that which he wanted most to know. Why had she left the Avatar? As if she could read his mind she looked at him.
“Not now. I’ll tell you all, later.”
“Okay,” he said, and they both fell silent again.

Katara had to shield her eyes against the bright sunlight after stepping out of the palanquin. There was no wind here, and she felt the heat of the sun on her skin. With her hand above her eyes she took in the view of the palace.
“It was much bigger in my memory!” she said.
“Maybe you were smaller then?” Zuko asked. “I didn’t change much about it. But the trees have grown a lot since your last visit.”
She turned to him and laughed with squinted eyes. “It really has been a long time. You know, I’m actually happy to be here again!”
Zuko smiled. “Come. We’ll take the garden path.” She followed him inside the gates.
The garden was beautiful and green and the sunlight reflected on the golden roofs of the palace buildings. The shadows of the trees were small, it was almost noon. Despite the heat, a little girl came running towards them. Her nanny followed not far behind.
“Daddy!” she called, and threw her arms around Zuko’s legs. He kneeled down and picked her up.
“Hey Hanabi, look who’s here,” he said, hoisting her on his hip. “It’s auntie Katara!”
Hanabi looked at Katara with wide golden eyes. Although Katara smiled and wanted to pat the girl on her head, she looked confused and turned away from her, burying her face in her father’s shoulder.
‘It’s been too long,” Katara said, a little dissapointed. “You don’t remember me.”
“Come to the pond,” Zuko said. “I’m sure she’ll remember when you do your magic again.”
Under the shadow of an overhanging tree, the three of them sat at the edge of the water. Hanabi was still shy but watched Katara from the safety of Zuko’s arms. Katara dipped her hands in the water and instantly seemed to relax. She took a deep breath.
“Oh!” Hanabi squealed when a wave rose up and took the shape of a ship. The ship sailed around the pond, scaring a few turtleducks before taking the same shape as them. The watery turtleduck floated across the surface towards Hanabi, who strechted out her little hands to touch it, but then it dissolved back into the water. Before the girl could see where it had disappeared to, a ball of water rose up into the air. With a few swift movements of her hands, Katara made the water dance around Hanabi, who laughed and tried to catch it. After a few circles around the three of them, the stream of water dove back in the pond.
‘Again, again!” said Hanabi and clapped her hands. Zuko tried to hide his own fascination at seeing Katara’s waterbending again after years, and said: “That’s enough for now. Auntie Katara has made a long journey and she’s very tired.”
“That’s true,” said Katara. “And I don’t mean to be impolite, but I’m actually really hungry too.”
“Of course, I’m so sorry,” said Zuko. “I’ll get you lunch immediately. We haven’t eaten yet, either.” He waved to the nanny and she hurried ahead of them towards the palace.
“Where did you come from, auntie?” asked Hanabi. Zuko still carried her on his hip.
“I travelled across the sea on a very big ship,” Katara answered. “Have you seen the ships that come to the port?”
“Yes, I’ve seen them! Daddy and mommy took me. Do the ships really go to the sea, so far that you can’t see them anymore?”
“They do.”
“And you’ve been so far away?”
“Yes.”
“The Earth Kingdom is on the other side of the sea. Daddy told me. So did you come from the Earth Kingdom?”
“I did.”
They reached the entrance to palace and Zuko put Hanabi down. “Enough chatter for now,” he said. “Go to nanny and get your lunch.”
The girl pouted but skipped to her nanny. They disappeared into another room. Sliding open a door, Zuko invited Katara in.
“Come. Mai is waiting inside.”
Katara swallowed and nodded. She had never really been able to get along with the Fire Lady, but now it would be even harder.
In a half-lit room, a slender figure reclined on an elegant sofa. With a small gesture Zuko made the lamps burn higher, and Mai stood up. She slowly walked towards them and extended her hands to Katara.
“Welcome,” she said softly. Katara bowed slightly, taken aback by how beautiful the Fire Lady still was, despite her illness. Still, she clearly remembered that she had never liked the way her silver eyes were always half closed. She never seemed to really look at anyone.
Absently, Mai waved to the tables, where servants were putting down plates with rice and fish.
“Please sit down. You must be starving after that dreadful journey.”
“Thank you,” Katara said, not mentioning that she’d found her journey actually very pleasant. She knew Mai absolutely hated the sea. She sat down and attacked the plentiful meal, appreciating the superb quality of the food after living on dried fish and sea biscuits for days.
Zuko sat next to his wife and busied himself with making sure she ate enough.
“Here, taste the seaweed, it’s unbelievably fresh,” he said, but Mai pushed the plate away.
“It’s slimy.”
“Oh, I love it,” Katara said. “It’s so salty, you really taste the sea.”
Zuko smiled at her almost gratefully but Mai sighed with disgust. Then she looked at Katara.
“I am sorry for my lack of manners.”
“Oh, never mind it,” said Katara, “I’m really not bothered.”
“No, it’s not fitting for me,” Mai shook her head. “But I’ve been feeling so weak and disgusted with everything. I am not myself. I really hope you can help me.”
“I hope so too. That’s why I’m here in the first place.”
“I am very thankful that you could come. It means a lot.”
Katara was surprised by these words from the icy woman. She had never received this much cordiality from her.
“O-of course. Well, it’s not like I had anywhere else to be. And of course I want to help.”
Mai showed a small smile. Then she turned to Zuko and said in a very soft voice: “Can you bring me to bed? I’m so tired.”
Zuko helped her up and supported her with such care that Katara had to look away. How long had it been? A year or more, surely. But still the memory of Aang’s touch on her skin seemed as fresh as if it had been moments ago.
She shook her head and helped herself to a last portion of fish, until Zuko returned.
“Let’s go outside,” he said. “I can’t stand being inside these walls now.”
“Really? But it’s so hot outside,” Katara said.
‘Oh, of course, you’re not used to the climate. Let’s go to the back gallery then, it faces north and there’s usually a breeze.”
He led her through the halls with their squeaking wooden floors, past rooms with beautifully painted screens and splendid interiors.
“I’ve asked the staff to prepare your room. There should be fresh clothes as well,” Zuko said.
“That’s very kind. Where is my room?”
‘Very close to ours. To be honest I’ve been sleeping in my office lately, Mai needs all the rest she can get, but you’ll be close to her. Actually, would you like to go there to change first?”
“Oh, no, that can wait, thanks. How do you like my dress, anyway? The latest fashion in Ba Sing Se. Toph insisted on buying new clothes for me, even though blue was the most expensive colour. But green and brown look so bad on me…”
“Nonsense. I remember you dressed up in Ba Sing Se, with flowers in your hair. You really looked like a noble Earth Kingdom lady. And Toph too!”
“Haha, if you start comparing my looks to Toph’s then I’m not listening anymore. I love her, but I do care about my appearance a bit more than she does. Not that it matters to her, but still. I guess I’m just a little vain.”
She was starting to chatter a little like the old times again, and Zuko felt more and more comfortable in her presence. They reached the open gallery in the north of the palace and he invited her to sit down. They looked out over a little stone garden with some small trees. It was still hot, but they were sitting in the shade and Katara leaned back, enjoying the slight breeze that cooled her face.
“It is peaceful here,” she said. “So quiet.”
“We don’t actually have that much staff anymore,” Zuko said. “And this part of the palace isn’t usually busy. Of course you still remember it full of guards.”
“Yeah. But I’m glad that time is over.”
“Every era has its new challenges,” Zuko commented. Katara sat upright again.
“Don’t be so gloomy! Your country is absolutely blooming! The trade with the Earth Kingdom is going great, I spoke with a few merchants on board. And from what I could see when we travelled along the coast, the countryside is becoming wealthier as well.”
“Yes, that’s true. After all the trouble we had in the beginning, I’m happy with how the people are doing now. Trade is going well, too. But we still struggle with the farmers in the midlands, especially after the droughts of the past few years. We just don’t have a good irrigation system and rice production is at a very low point.”
“But surely you can attract some engineers from other countries? I might know a few! From Omashu, or even waterbenders from the North Pole, I’m sure they could help.”
“We’ve received so much generosity from other countries already, which we don’t deserve. I feel like I can’t ask for any more help.”
“That’s nonsense. Common prosperity is something everyone wants to contribute to. Besides, bad crops and famine are a much worse threat to peace than a request for help. You know what angry farmers can get up to…”
“You’re right. I just haven’t found the right person or the right words yet.”
“You shouldn’t hesitate with important matters like this.”
Zuko leaned forwards and rested his chin in his hands.
“I’ve just been so distracted, with Mai like this, she’s always been such a support for me and I really don’t know what to do now that she’s so ill.”
“I’ll look at her as soon as she’s ready,” Katara said, placing her hand on Zuko’s knee. Zuko smiled at her. “I’m so happy you’re here. I really wouldn’t know what to do if you hadn’t come.”
“Oh, silly. Of course I’d come. I’d always help a friend in need.”
Zuko looked out over the rocks. “You’re being too kind. I know you never liked Mai.”
“You’re my friend,” Katara said. “And you love Mai, so she is my friend as well.”
They were both silent. After a while, Zuko awkwardly said: “You know, uhm…”
“Yes?”
“It really means a lot to me that you say that. That I’m your friend.”
Katara looked at him, but he kept staring at the rocks.
“I’ve never really had friends, apart from my uncle, but that’s different. But you, and Aang of course, and Toph and your brother and Suki, for you to say that I am your friend, I feel like I don’t deserve it.”
Katara shook her head and wanted to say something, but Zuko interrupted her.
“I mean it. When I wake up, just before I am fully awake, I still feel like I am wandering all over the world, lost and hated by everyone, and then I realize I have friends, I have my people who look up to me, I have a wife and a daughter, and I just can’t believe it’s true.”
“I completely understand,” Katara said softly. “People always find it hard to simply be happy.”
“Exactly.”
After a while, when Zuko thought the warmth of Katara’s hand on his knee became almost too much, he said: “I’m sorry for not asking about you, but I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“You were right. I don’t think I can talk about it yet.” As he had expected, she removed her hand and leaned back.
“Did you also have difficulty with simply being happy?”
“No,” she said, curtly. “No, I don’t think I was happy at all.”
Zuko didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Katara sighed almost inaudibly, then asked: “Tell me more about Mai. You wrote that she has been ill for some time, but that it’s only getting worse?”
Glad for the change of subject, although this subject wasn’t exactly a cheerful one either, Zuko said: “Yes. It started a few months ago. She doesn’t have appetite, she’s tired all the time, she feels weak and says that her whole body hurts. Of course I’ve had the best doctors look at her, but nobody seems to know what it is or how to cure it. Now she’s only getting out of bed to eat, and even then she eats almost nothing. She’s gotten very skinny and pale, and she seems completely detached from the world around her. Even I sometimes can’t seem to reach her, and Hanabi gets really sad because of it as well. You’ve noticed she’s almost always with her nanny now. Mai just can’t take care of her anymore.”
“I see. That must be hard on all of you. It doesn’t sound like anything I know, but I’m sure I can make her better soon.” She sounded confident.
“I had planned to travel around and earn my living as a healer, you know,” she said. “But it didn’t work. I wanted to live anonymously, but I was just too well known. As soon as I healed someone, or used waterbending, people would know who I was and I’d get all these questions… It wasn’t at all what I had imagined. I wanted that adventurous, careless traveling life again, I’d really missed it. But it wasn’t fun on my own. So I just went to Ba Sing Se to live with Toph.”
“I’m sure Toph was very happy.”
“She was, actually,” Katara smiled. “She’s not been very lucky in love either, so we could support each other. And by the time I got your letter, I had established quite a succesful healing practice for myself.”
She noticed his look and quickly continued: “But I’m not sad to leave that. I’m not really suited for life in a city. To be honest I’m not sure how Toph can live there all the time. Luckily her school is outside the walls. The city was always so noisy!”
“I know. The capital here can be overwhelming too, but I try to keep the palace grounds as peaceful as possible. Especially since Mai hasn’t been able to endure any disturbance. The servants all walk on felt slippers in our quarters now.”
Katara nodded slowly. “Do you think I could look at her soon?”
“I can check on her. Then you can change first, I’ll show you your room.”
They walked back through the halls, to the inner quarters where the royal family had their rooms. Zuko led her to a sliding door decorated with pines.
“This is yours,” he said. A maid opened the door from the inside and bowed.
“I’ve prepared everything, Your Highness,” she said softly.
“Thank you, Sen,” said Zuko. “I’d like you to treat Master Katara with the same care you always treat us with, and to assist her in every way.”
“Of course, Your Highness,’ she said, and bowed to Katara.
“My lady, I’ve laid out a new kimono for you. If you require any assistence in dressing, or in any other way, I am always available.”
“Thank you, Sen,” Katara said, bowing back. “But I’ll be fine for now.”
The maid bowed again and went away. Zuko said: “I’ll wake up Mai. I’ll come to get you soon.” Katara nodded and stepped inside, while Zuko walked away. She took in the room. It was simple but elegant, being actually very luxurious, but not in a flashy way. The sublte pine decorations, the beautiful wooden closet, the soft blankets, it was all of the highest quality and yet looked as simple as possible. So very different from the pomp and glamour of the Earth Kingdom capital. Of course the Fire Nation people liked their gold, but it never seemed too much.
Katara took off her Earth-style dress, noticing that the journey had indeed taken a toll on it, and picked up the bundle of silk that was spread out for her. The supple fabric was cool to touch and smooth, and had a deep azure colour. For a proper obi knot she would need the assistance of a maid, and she didn’t want to bother with that, so she just wrapped one of the narrower bands around her waist, tied it simply and tucked in the ends. This was much less constricting, too. She saw new slippers as well, and took off her traveling boots with some relief.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“I’m coming,” she said, and stepped outside. Zuko was waiting for her.
“It’s blue,” she smiled, gesturing at her dress. “You didn’t have to do that.” Zuko only shrugged. They crossed the corridor and Zuko pointed to the sliding doors.
“The one with phoenixes is the Fire Lady’s room. My office has dragons and Hanabi’s nursery has cranes.”
“The dragon is the symbol of the Fire Lord, right?”
“It is. And the phoenix has always been associated with the Fire Lady.”
“What about cranes? And my pines?”
“Cranes usually symbolize good luck, and pines longevity.”
“Well, that’s suiting then.”
They quietly stepped inside the Fire Lady’s room. Katara had to adjust to the darkness for a moment. Slowly the interior became visible. A big bed with beautiful woodwork and dark red curtains was the main piece of furniture, the room being mostly empty otherwise. Mai arduously sat upright when they entered, assisted by a maid who quietly stepped away when the Fire Lord entered. Zuko was by her side immediately. Mai pushed her sheets aside and looked at Katara with half a smile.
“I’m all yours,” she said. Katara folded back her sleeves, pulled some water out of the air with a swift hand movement and asked: “May I?”
“Please,” Mai said, and Katara placed her hands on her temples. A faint glow appeared, and while Zuko watched in silent amazement, Katara slowly moved her hands across Mai’s forehead.
“It’s not mental. Your mind is completely clear and healthy,” she said. She expected a sarcastic remark from the Fire Lady, but it didn’t come. Mai kept her eyes closed. Katara turned to Zuko: “Can you ask for some more water?”
Zuko nodded and went to the other end of the room, said something to the maid, who nodded and disappeared immediately. After a few moments she returned, carrying a copper bowl filled with clear water. She placed it on the elegant table next to the bed, and Katara dipped her hands in it.
“This might be cold,” she warned, and Mai nodded, her eyes still closed. Katara untied Mai’s silk robe and let her hands slide along her chest. She took in a sharp breath.
“Now here is something. Your lungs are damaged.”
Zuko looked at her with an intense gaze. Katara wetted her hands again and the faint glow became stronger. She rubbed Mai’s chest and the Fire Lady began to cough violently. The maid was immediately by her side, supporting her, and casting a mistrusting look at the waterbender.
“You were well on your way to a heavy pneumonia,” Katara said. “No wonder you were so tired.”
Mai kept coughing, and the maid wiped her mouth with a handkerchief. Zuko asked: “So that’s it? Her lungs?” He sounded relieved.
“Don’t celebrate too early. It’s quite serious,” Katara said. “But she’ll be clean in a few minutes.”
After rubbing her glowing hands all over Mai’s back as well, she let the Fire Lady lay down again. Mai coughed one last time, then took a deep breath. She rested her head on the pillow.
“I feel much lighter,” she said.
Katara smiled. “Rest a little and you’ll be able to get out of bed before dinner.” Then she turned to the maid. “Make sure she drinks enough and get me immediately if you notice anything disturbing.”
She left the room while Zuko was still by Mai’s bedside, but she was only halfway the corridor when she heard his footsteps behind her. She turned around. He walked towards her, stretched out his arms and took both her hands, his face unusually full of emotion.
“Thank you.”
Katara was a little at loss for words and looked away. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled. She drew back her hands and avoided his look. “You know what I can do.”
“I know. I won’t ever forget what you did for me, nor this. You are a treasure.”
She laughed, uncomfortably.
“Thanks. If you’ll excuse me now, I’m going to unpack my things. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
She turned around and continued towards her own room, leaving Zuko a little puzzled. His confusion couldn’t surpress his relief for long though, and he went back to Mai’s room quickly. Katara probably needed some time alone, the unpacking was obviously a lie since she had only brought one little bag. But he found Mai sound asleep, and the maid was watching her so carefully that he felt quite useless there. So he just returned to his office to try to finish some paperwork.
Katara took of her new slippers and lay down on her futon. Healing Mai’s lungs had been tiring, and she closed her eyes. While dozing off she wondered how a pneumonia could manifest itself in a slow way like this, she hadn’t seen it before. The phlegm had been very thick and had stuck to the membranes, that’s why she hadn’t been coughing and the Fire Nation doctors hadn’t suspected a pneumonia. It was very unusual. But she’d loosened all the phlegm. Mai’s lungs were definitely clean now, she contented herself. Soon the fatigue of the journey and the healing became too much and she drifted off.

Chapter Text

A polite knock on her door woke her up.
“Master Katara?”
She recognized the voice of the maid from before. She rubbed her eyes and got up. “Come in, Sen.”
The maid opened the sliding door and bowed. “Dinner will be served in half an hour.”
“Good. Is there anything I should know?”
“His Majesty has asked me to warn you that dinner is very rarely a private affair. The royal family is often joined by courtiers and members of various noble families.”
Katara sighed. “I understand.” She had had enough official dinner parties when she still lived with Aang, and she had never liked it. “I suppose I have to dress a bit more formal then. Will you help me with the obi?”
“Certainly, milady.”
Sen was obviously an experienced dresser and quickly tied the obi in a formal knot. She also freed Katara’s hair from its braid and dressed it up in an elegant style. When Katara saw her own appearance in the tall mirror, she smiled. Although she didn’t feel like it, she did look more beautiful than she had looked for many months. It was good to know that despite everything, her looks were still an armour she could hide behind. She would need it if she was to face the crème de la crème of the Fire Nation nobility tonight. Even if she didn’t match their pale, blackhaired ideal of beauty, no one would be able to deny that her face was refined and symmetrical, and her figure was, although a little short, slender and well filled out.
She entered the dining hall a little hesitantly. Immediately she felt the eyes of about two dozen courtiers on her. She repeated I look good, I look good in her mind, but was glad when she noticed Zuko at the head of the long table, gesturing her to come closer. He stood up for her, and this was immediately imitated by all other guests. Katara felt her cheeks burn. A servant pulled back a chair, and she was surprised. She had expected to be seated somewhat down the table, since she wasn’t of noble birth, nor was she here on a political mission. But she was given the seat of a member of the royal family. Iroh would probably sit here when he visited, too. She could easily converse with Zuko this way. The two of them sat at the head of the table, and the courtiers and nobles were almost out of hearing distance.
“I’m surprised you’re letting me sit here,” Katara said. Zuko shook his head.
“Of course. What did you expect? You’re my personal guest.”
She smiled.
“Is Hanabi not joining us?”
“No, I think she’s still a little too young. She eats in the nursery with her nanny. But we can go there after dinner.”
Still uneasy, Katara couldn’t help feeling that all courtiers were observing her very closely. Zuko noticed her look and said quietly:
“It’s not very common that they see an outsider converse with me in such an informal way. They all have to do the bowing and the titles. Don’t mind it too much.”
“I do mind,” Katara said. “I would’ve preferred to be a little more inconspicuous.”
Zuko laughed. “Katara, there’s no way you could’ve been inconspicuous here, you stand out like a fish in the desert.”
She frowned. “I do feel like one, too.”
Before Zuko could say anything, the whole room gasped and looked up. In the entrance, the Fire Lady had appeared. She was still pale, but her cheeks had colour and she had obviously taken great care in dressing. Slender and tall, she made an impressive sight, the epitome of Fire Nation beauty. Gracefully she crossed the room and sat down next to Zuko. She made a gesture to the servants, who quickly started bringing in the food.
Noticing the amazed looks on the faces of the nobles, Zuko stood up.
“I would like to propose a toast,” he said, raising his cup. “After the illness that you have all been aware of, my beloved Fire Lady has been healed today by my good friend, the famous waterbender Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.”
Again Katara felt all eyes upon her, and everybody started whispering to each other. She was certain she picked up the word “Avatar” here and there.
“To Master Katara,” Zuko said, and drank. All nobles followed his example. One of them stood up and also raised his cup.
“And to our highly esteemed Fire Lady!” he said, and all others cheered and emptied their cups. Mai smiled and answered him:
“Thank you, Lord Inoue. Now, let us enjoy our meal.”
Everyone sat down and began eating. Mai took a bite of chicken, leaned towards Zuko and said: “Would you believe it? I’m actually hungry.”
He beamed, and Katara thought his face was worth all the mistrusting looks she’d gotten, and would undoubtedly still get.

After dinner the Fire Lord usually held a short audience with the present nobles. The men followed their Lord into another room, while the Fire Lady escorted Katara and the few other ladies out of the dining hall.
Although there were obviously quite a few noblewomen eager to speak to Mai, they didn’t have the courage to approach her without invitation. Katara couldn’t help but smile when noticing the clear respect and fear these women had for Mai. She could easily imagine how they felt in her presence. But Mai was all kindness to Katara. She walked by her side and thanked her again.
“I can’t believe how I feel. I could actually taste my food again, and I feel so energetic!” she said. Katara smiled in return.
“Don’t expect too much too soon, it will take some time until you are fully recovered.”
“I am aware of that, but I already feel so much better. I cannot thank you enough.”
Although Mai was attentive to her, much more than she had expected, it was out of gratefulness for her service, not out of interest in her person, and they soon ran out of conversation topics. Mai turned her attention to the ladies-in-waiting, who were very eager to respond and huddled around her, each of them trying to get in her favour by being the most attentive. Katara distanced herself and felt a little lonely all of a sudden. The noblewomen would bow to her, but none of them would speak to her. She was too much of an outsider. She wished Mai would end the gathering so she could return to her room. Write a letter to Toph, or to her brother perhaps.
It seemed like Mai had used up what little energy she had gained, because she beckoned Katara and left the room with her.
“I just want to visit the nursery before Hanabi is asleep,” she explained. They arrived at the crane-adorned sliding door and Mai opened it. The nanny was just putting Hanabi in bed, but she quickly stood up and bowed to the Fire Lady. Mai made a small gesture and the nanny stepped aside. Hanabi sat upright in her bed. “Mommy!”
“Hi sweetie,” Mai said, and kneeled next to her daughter.
“Are you feeling better?” the girl asked. Mai nodded.
“Your aunt Katara has healed me,” she said, and Hanabi looked at the waterbender in amazement. She quickly directed her attention to her mother again, tightening her little arms around her neck. “Now you have to stay here,” she said. Mai tried to loosen her grip. “No sweetie, you have to sleep,” she said.
“I don’t want to!” Hanabi said. “Can’t you read me a story?”
Mai smiled apologetically at Katara. “I’ll stay for a bit. If you see Zuko, could you tell him I’m here?”
Katara nodded. The nanny brought a colourful book to the Fire Lady and her daughter, obviously Hanabi’s favourite, then opened the door for Katara. She stepped outside and slowly walked to her own room. She was grateful for the quietness of the halls. Turning the corner, she walked into the Fire Lord, accompanied by three noblemen. In a reflex, she bowed. The noblemen bowed in return, but Zuko asked in a familial tone:
“Hey, where did you leave Mai?”
“She’s in the nursery with Hanabi,” Katara answered, trying to ignore the disapproving looks of the nobles, who were clearly offended by her directness to their Lord.
“Thanks, I’ll go there too.” Zuko turned to the three men. “We’ll see each other again tomorrow.”
They bowed deeply. “Good night, Your Highness,” they said in turn, and left, walking backwards until they reached the corner.
“I’m going to my room,” Katara said, before Zuko could say anything. “Be warned that Hanabi will demand a bedtime story when you go there.”
“I’m used to that,” Zuko smiled. “Good night.”
They parted. Katara stepped into her room and called for Sen. After the maid had helped her take off the kimono and had let her hair down, she bid her good night and left. Katara enjoyed the comfort of being freed from the constricting obi, and inspected her room a little better. She was happy to find the small, intricately carved desk equipped with writing materials. She wrote a direction to the South Pole, started with “Dear Sokka,” but then her brush hesitated. Where to start? She had no idea what to tell her brother. So much had happened since she had last been in contact with him.
She put the letter aside and took a new sheet of paper.
“Dear Toph,
I’ve safely arrived in the Fire Lord’s palace. My journey was easy. I’ve done my best to heal the Fire Lady and I think she’s doing much better. I’ll keep an eye on her for the next few days to see how she does. I hope your teaching is still going well. How are your students getting on with metalbending? And how did the tournament go?
Please say hi to everyone in Ba Sing Se from me. Zuko sends his regards as well.
Love, Katara.”
What a lousy letter. But somehow she didn’t know what else to write. What was there to write? She took off her slippers and lay down on the bed. The sheets were smooth and cool, and with a sigh she closed her eyes.

The next morning she woke up feeling very refreshed. It was not very light yet, so she guessed it was still early. Not wanting to wake Sen, she quickly washed herself and braided her hair. She noticed her light blue Earth Kingdom dress hanging over the closet door, freshly washed and ironed, and smiled. She put it on, stepped into her felt slippers and went out of her room. She longed to be outside. On her way to the garden she passed several servants, who all took the time to bow and greet her attentively. She answered them all politely, and asked one to post her letter to Toph. She felt touched by the great care she received from these people, who she had hated for so long. But the older she got, the more complicated the world seemed. She was often envious of her younger self, for whom everything had been clear and simple.
Katara reached the garden and breathed deeply, taking in the fresh morning air. She sun was just rising and the ground was still covered with dew. She took off her slippers and walked barefoot through the wet grass.
When she walked further into the garden, the peaceful silence was disturbed by the sound of crackling fire. Outside the dojo, on a wide training field, the Fire Lord was doing his morning practice.
His hair was tied back in a simple ponytail and he wore only his training pants. Instead of the sweaty, violent battle practice she’d been used to see him doing, he was calmly going through bending forms, and instead of blazing balls of fire, long thin flames followed the moves of his hands. She wasn’t used to this peaceful version of firebending. It was an elegant sight. She wanted to observe him quietly, but he had already noticed her. His flames disappeared and he walked towards her.
“Good morning,” he greeted her.
“Good morning! That looked good,” she said. “Very controlled.”
He shrugged. “It’s a great way to start the day. As soon as the sun rises, I just feel it in my blood, and the urge to create fire is very strong.”
“I suppose all firebenders have that feeling, you have such a strong connection to the sun,” Katara said. Zuko nodded. “But I meant your movements,” she continued. “They were very calm. I remember your bending in the past, it was so violent, you were so full of anger…”
“I was very frustrated and full of fear, mostly. But it’s true, most of my strength in bending came from my anger, then. It made me powerful but it was unbalanced. You remember how weak I was when I lost that source.”
“But you’re doing great now,” Katara said.
“Of course my adventure with Aang and the dragons helped me,” Zuko said. “And after the war Uncle Iroh taught me more.”
Katara smiled. “I know. I was there, remember? We were all there. When you were just installed as Fire Lord, and the three of you were training every day.”
Zuko rubbed his hands over his face.
“It was such a hard time, I had so much to learn… I still feel like I know nothing.”
“You’re a great Fire Lord, Zuko. Look at the palace you run. The staff adores you and the nobles have the greatest respect for you. And look at your country, how well you’re doing. Your people love you, really.”
He coloured.
“I do miss Uncle,” he said. “His guidance was so important for me.”
“But he trusts in your ability to do it on your own. And he’s right.”
“I still write to him about almost everything, though,” Zuko said. They walked towards the dojo and he picked up his shirt. “Have you seen him at all when you were in Ba Sing Se?”
“I did, actually. Toph is a frequent customer of the Jasmin Dragon. He’s still a tough one, isn’t he?”
“I’m starting to believe he’s immortal. I sure hope he is.” Zuko buttoned up his shirt and said: “He’s the one who told me you were in Ba Sing Se. I wouldn’t have known how to contact you otherwise.”
“I already guessed you’d heard from him.”
“He was very discreet though, he told me nothing else, only that you were staying with Toph.”
“He’s a discreet man.”
Zuko knew he shouldn’t ask any further. They walked back to the palace.
“The Fire Nation missed a great Fire Lord with him,” Zuko said. Katara shook her head. “I don’t think he feels that way. He is a wise man but he wouldn’t have been happy.”
“It’s not about personal happiness. Duty to your country is the only thing that really matters for the royal family.”
Katara looked at him sideways. “That’s so cold.”
“I’m lucky,” Zuko said. “I have a happy life now. But it’s not a given.”
“As the heir to the throne, you never really had a choice, did you?” Katara asked, trying to understand him better.
“My life has never been my own,” Zuko said. “Only when my fate became entangled with the Avatar’s I realized I could make my own choices.”
"Even so," Katara said, "You had no choice in ascending the throne. There was no alternative."
“As Uncle said, it’s all about balance. Now, I think breakfast is ready.”

They met Mai and Hanabi in the same room where they’d had lunch the day before. Mai kissed Zuko and smiled at him. “You smell sweaty,” she said, crinkling her nose.
“Is that the first thing you say to me?” he asked, but both their voices were playful. Hanabi sat on her mothers lap as they enjoyed their meal. They had some casual conversation and Katara was pleasantly surprised by the change in Mai’s behaviour. She was relaxed and seemed content, which Katara had never witnessed before. After breakfast, Mai had a meeting with her ladies-in-waiting, and Zuko took Hanabi and Katara to his office.
“Mai certainly seems different,” Katara said.
“She’s getting back to herself,” Zuko said. Katara smiled. “That’s a very different self than I remember,” she said.
Zuko laughed. “She had a lot of frustration as well back then,” he said. “You know about her relationship with her parents?”
“I’ve only heard about it from second-hand sources.”
“The beginning was hard for both of us. But of course it’s very different now.”
“Daddy, what are you doing today?” Hanabi asked.
“I have a consult with the Minister of Agriculture and Farming this afternoon,” Zuko said, holding Hanabi’s hand as they entered his office.
“Are we getting more goats?” Hanabi asked. Katara laughed, surprised, and Zuko explained: “We take her to the palace’s farmland often, she’s very fond of the animals.” Then he turned to Hanabi again: “No sweetie, we’re talking about the soil in the midlands.”
“Oh. Can I have some sweets from your jar?”
“Yes, but only one,” Zuko said. He went to his big desk and lifted the lid of a porcelain jar. It was filled with candied fruit. Hanabi climbed on the desk and put her little hand in the jar. She took her candy, jumped of the desk again and started playing by herself in the corner of the room.
Katara looked around the office. “This place hasn’t changed much,” she said. It was a spacious room, with calligraphy and maps hanging on the walls, and Zuko’s big wooden desk in the middle.
“We sure spent a lot of time in here,” Zuko said. They both remembered the endless political talks right after the war. Katara sighed.
“Is it strange that I sometimes miss that time?”
“What, the war?”
“Yeah. Sure, we were scared and hungry most of the time, but compared to now, everything seemed so simple then…”
“I think you’re looking at the past through rose-coloured glasses. Were you really happier then?”
“I was,” Katara said and looked at him directly. “We laughed, we traveled, we had a goal, it was so clear and I always knew what to do…”
“You were free,” Zuko said. “I understand.”
“Do you?”
“You were everything I was not. Of course I understand. Everything you had, I wanted.”
She nodded.
“Friendship and love and the knowledge that you were fighting for something good,” Zuko said, “and the freedom to make your own choices! What I wouldn’t have given for that!”
“It must be completely opposite for you,” Katara said. “I suppose you never miss the old times.”
Zuko thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No. Only in the last few years have I learned to enjoy life.”
He looked at the time-candle in the corner.
“I’m meeting the minister in half an hour. Would you care to join us?”
Katara’s eyes widened. “You want me to join?”
“I’d appreciate your advice,” he said. She couldn’t help laughing.
“Thank you. I’d love to,” she said. He nodded, as if he had expected nothing else.
“Come, Hanabi,” he said. “Back to mommy.”
The girl jumped up and skipped to her father. Zuko turned to Katara. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said. He took Hanabi’s hand and they walked out of the door.
Katara sat on the edge of the desk and peeked in the porcelain jar. How typically Zuko to keep a jar of sweets in his office. She was ready to bet he ate more of it than Hanabi. She took a piece of candied mango and put it in her mouth. Enjoying the sweet taste, she looked around the office again.
A big painting of the royal family, Mai holding baby Hanabi and Zuko beaming. A portrait of Ursa. Maps of the capital, the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom. Beautiful calligraphy.
The calligraphy scroll hung in a narrow corner, above an elegant flower arrangement. Katara read the two lines. First 群雄四分, ‘the powers are divided into four’. Next to that, 天下一匡, ‘all under heaven are guided by one’. A classic phrase. She stared at the simple straight line that symbolised the ‘one’ she knew so well. How would he be doing? Would he miss her at all?
Zuko entered the room again. Katara quickly swallowed the candy and jumped off the desk. Zuko pretended he hadn’t seen it.
“Did you write this?” Katara asked, pointing to the calligraphy, while trying not to blush.
“I did,” Zuko said. “Calligraphy was one of the classical educations Uncle took very seriously, so even when we were at sea I had to practice. But this one I wrote after the war.”
“You have great handwriting,” Katara said. “I was happy to learn how to write at all.”
“I always thought your writing was very clear and to-the-point. I remember you used to write all the Avatar’s letters because Aang’s handwriting was so sloppy.”
Katara laughed. “That’s true, he was too impatient for it.”
Zuko took some papers from a corner of his desk.
“Now, before the minister comes, I’d like your opinion on this.” Katara came closer and looked over his shoulder. She saw various plans for irrigation and proposals for the improval of the soil.
“This one will definitely not work,” she said immediately, pointing at one of the irrigation plans. “The water will all flow into the first field and none of it will reach the others.”
“See,” Zuko said, “that’s why I want you to join.”
There was a knock on the door. “Enter,” Zuko said. Two officials entered and bowed deeply. Zuko nodded to them and said.
“Katara, these are the Minister of Agriculture and his first secretary. Your honours, this is Master Katara. She will give us her advice on our new plans.”
Katara curtsied and the officials bowed again.
They laid out some plans and Katara gave her advice about the irrigation. She could feel that the Minister was wary of her in the beginning, and only his respect for Zuko made him listen to her without complaining, but within half an hour he was convinced of her expertise and asked her many questions about the flow of water and the shape the canals should have. She inwardly grinned at this victory. They managed to create quite an elaborate irrigation plan in a few hours. On the topic of the improval of the soil she couldn’t say anything though, but proposed to write to Toph’s earthbending school to ask for assistance there.
The Minister rolled up his scrolls and the secretary put them back in the large lacquered casket he carried. They bowed and left the office, walking backwards. Katara and Zuko looked at each other and both smiled.
“Thanks for your assistance,” Zuko said softly. Katara noticed the familiar hoarseness in his voice, and his slight lisp. “It was my pleasure, really,” she said. “I’m glad I can contribute to something.”

Together they walked back to the personal quarters. Zuko slid open the door to the nursery but hesitated, and Katara noticed he was moved by what he saw. She quickly joined him and understood. Mai was sitting at a low writing desk with Hanabi on her lap, her wide robes spread out behind her. The little girl had a brush in her hand and her mother guided her. When Hanabi noticed her father had come in, she jumped up, ran towards him and pulled at his hands.
“Look daddy, I wrote my name!”
Zuko picked her up and carried her on his hip. “That’s wonderful, sweetie.”
Katara looked at the shaky lines on the paper. “Flower of fire,” she said. “I’ve always thought it was such a pretty name.”
Mai showed a small smile. “I’ve always thought it silly that Zuko named our daughter after fireworks.”
“That reminds me,” Zuko said, “there’ll be fireworks tonight.”
“Really? Great!” Katara’s face lit up. “It’s been years since I’ve seen some!”
“It’s in honour of you, actually.”
“What?”
“Because the Fire Lady is healed. The people want to celebrate.”
Katara couldn’t contain her suprise and excitement. “I can’t believe it!”
“You’d almost think they cared about me,” Mai said languidly. Zuko turned to her abruptly. “Of course they do!” he said. “Don’t be so negative!”
Mai leaned backwards. “Maybe they’d care even more if I’d given them a crown prince,” she sighed. Zuko shook his head, lifted Hanabi off his hip and handed her to Katara.
“Could you take her outside for a moment? I need to talk to Mai and I don’t want her to hear this,” he whispered. Katara nodded. Hanabi looked a little surprised but seemed happy to be carried by Katara. She reached up to her face and tried to pull her hair loops. Katara laughed and pushed her little hands away. “Don’t do that! Come, I’m gonna give you a water show again,” she said, and quickly went outside.
Zuko turned to Mai. “Why would you say that? Can’t you understand that it might hurt Hanabi?”
“She’s too young to understand, anyway.”
“No, she’s not. Don’t you remember what it was like for Azula and me? And for yourself as well? Children are very aware of what their parents think of them, and it can really hurt them!”
“I know that,” Mai said, looking away. “I just feel like everyone thinks I failed to deliver a male heir.”
“It doesn’t even matter,” Zuko said. “She can become Fire Lord just fine. We’ve talked about this before.”
Mai looked down, her eyes hidden by her hair. She remained silent. Zuko knelt beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t move, but didn’t push him away either.
“Don’t you realize how proud and happy I am with you and Hanabi? You two mean the world to me. You’re only just feeling well again, and I’m so happy about that. Don’t start being gloomy now, please.”
Mai looked up. “I’m trying,” she said. “I’m happy too, truly. I just… It would’ve been so much easier if she’d been a boy.”
“I don’t want to hear about it anymore,” Zuko said sharply, and left the room. Mai sighed and leaned back. She closed her eyes, frowning slightly.

Zuko walked outside, to the garden. He was sure he could find Katara near the pond, and he was right. She was carrying Hanabi on her hip just like he usually did, and with her one free hand she made a stream of water circle around them. Hanabi clapped her hands and tried to catch it, only to splash herself. Zuko couldn’t help but laugh. Katara put Hanabi down and bended the water off her. When the girl was dry she spotted a butterfly, and went chasing after it. Katara sat down beneath the tree and played with the remainder of the stream. Zuko walked towards the pond and sat down beside her. He watched Hanabi play at a distance, and softly said: “I want my daughter to know that she’s perfect just the way she is. I don’t want her to feel like she’s a disappointment.”
“Why on earth would she be a disappointment?” Katara asked, truly astonished. Zuko sighed.
“We haven’t had a crown princess in centuries, and although there have been a few female Fire Lords in the past, it has been rare. Only in case of no direct male heir, or if the previous Fire Lord explicitly wishes it, can a princess become Fire Lord.”
“What would her partner be called, then?”
“If she marries a man he’d just be called Prince.”
“But people are uneasy about a woman being the next Fire Lord?”
“Not many, but some. And that’s not the only thing… She’s probably not a firebender.”
“I can imagine that would be a problem,” Katara nodded. “But look at it this way: the Earth King isn’t an earthbender either, nor is Chief Arnook of the Northern Water Tribe a waterbender. It isn’t that important.”
“It is in the Fire Nation,” Zuko said. “I’m just hoping she’ll turn out to be a bender after all. Like Mai said, it would be so much easier.”
“Since when do you prefer the easier road?” Katara asked, and elbowed him. “Don’t you know the easiest road is almost never the right one?”
“You sound like Uncle,” Zuko said, but grinned. “You’re right. Hanabi is perfect just the way she is. I only want her to be happy.”
“She’ll be a great Fire Lord, I’m sure.”
They stood up. Zuko called Hanabi, who came running towards them, and together they went back inside.

Chapter Text

Loud bangs accompanied the colourful bursts of light in the summer night sky. It surprised Katara how little it had cooled down. She'd forgotten just how hot the Fire Nation summer was. After burning her tongue on some fire flakes she went looking for Zuko, but couldn’t find him anywhere. Normally at festivals he would mingle with the people, as inconspicuous as possible, but not this time. She absently thought Aang would’ve loved a festival like this. Before she could determine whether she missed him or not, she heard her name.
“Master Katara!” Sen hurried towards her and bowed quickly. “Milady, His Majesty requested your presence at the balcony,” she said.
“I’ll go there then,” Katara said, and headed the direction of the palace. Before Sen could disappear in the crowds, Katara turned back to her and said: “You look lovely, by the way!” The young woman, who had exchanged her staff uniform for long sleeved festival clothes, blushed and bowed again.

Panting a little after climbing the stairs all the way up to the balcony, Katara looked up to see Zuko and Mai enjoying the view together. Mai leaned against her husband, her head on his shoulder. She didn’t want to disturb them and tried to walk away quietly, but Zuko had already noticed her.
“There you are!”
Katara bowed. She couldn’t deny she was impressed by Zuko’s formal outfit. He looked truly regal, his back straight and his head high, and he wasn’t even trying to impress. It just came so natural to him. Her feeling of being inferior, that had flamed up at the dinner last night, returned in full force. Not even silk robes and elegant hairstyles could cover up her very acute consciousness of her low status.
Before she had gotten up from her bow, Zuko had already grabbed her arm.
“Why are you bowing? This evening is meant to honour you!”
Mai huffed and turned her back on them. Katara raised an eyebrow but Zuko shook his head. He took her to the side, where a few low benches and tables with tea things were placed so the royal family could relax while enjoying the view. That goal wasn’t reached, Katara thought. The tea had gone cold and they seemed anything but relaxed.
“Mai’s in a bad mood,” Zuko said quietly, his head very close to hers. “She feels ignored by the people.”
“Why? Isn’t this festival to celebrate her recovery?”
“Of course. But er…” He seemed hesitant to continue.
“What is it?”
“She thinks you’re getting too much attention.”
Katara’s eyes widened. “Really?!” Before Zuko could stop her, she walked with big steps to Mai, who was still standing at the balustrade. The Fire Lord slapped his forehead.
“Mai, what is this nonsense?” Katara asked, and Mai sighed.
“Oh great, are you going to lecture me too?” she asked.
“No,” Katara said, clearly irritated by Mai’s condescending tone. “I just don’t understand. Everyone is celebrating that you got better, so where did you get the idea that they don’t care about you?”
“It’s not about me. You’re the one they’re honouring with these stupid fireworks.”
“Even if that were true, it’s only because I healed you! What would they care about me? You’re their queen!”
“The correct term is Fire Lady,” Mai said through clenched teeth. Zuko, who was watching from a safe distance, could tell that this was the point where Katara lost her patience.
“I don’t give a damn what the correct term is, let them call you Royal Platypus for all I care! It’s just a ridiculous idea! Why can’t you just enjoy the festival?” she shouted, her hands in fists.
“Well I’m sure you’re enjoying it just fine. You got to play the hero again and everyone is admiring you, just the way you like it.”
Katara gasped. “What?!”
“You can show off your great skills and save the day, like you always do. Don’t you just love it when people look up to you?”
“Excuse me? I healed you, and you were the first person to thank me for that. Can you blame the people for being happy that I saved you? Would you rather I hadn’t helped you at all?”
Mai turned her back on Katara and clenched the balusters tightly.
“As if the people are happy that I recovered… Why would they care about me anyway?”
“You’re talking nonsense.”
“What have I ever done for them? I gave birth to a princess, well, bravo. I couldn’t even deliver a male heir. Talk about being useless!”
At that moment, Zuko could swear he heard something snap within Katara. Before he could stop her, she had splashed the contents of the tea pot in Mai’s face.
“Do you have any idea how blessed you are?!” she yelled. “If you can’t appreciate what you have then you really don’t deserve it!” Her voice broke. She quickly turned around and rushed down the stairs.
Mai wiped her face with her long sleeve, and met Zuko’s eyes with an incredulous look. For a moment Zuko stood awkwardly between Mai and the staircase where Katara had disappeared, but after a look at Mai’s very grumpy face he hurried down the stairs as well.

It took him a while to find Katara. He’d taken off his crown and mantle and let down his hair in an effort to attract less attention, but he still had a hard time to get through the crowds unnoticed. That damn scar always gave him away, so he had to take the back alleys to avoid being seen. He figured Katara wouldn’t stay in the city if she was really upset, but she couldn’t have gone far. She’d want to be near water, so he took the shortest way to the coast, just outside the city walls. Sure enough, there he found her.
She sat huddled between the rocks on the stony beach, hugging her knees to her chest. She stared out over the dark sea, and when Zuko sat down beside her he saw traces of tears on her cheeks.
“Sorry I snapped,” she said, barely audible.
“Don’t be,” Zuko said. “She kind of deserved it.”
Katara shook her head. “It’s not for the reasons you think. Although I agree with you.”
“You know she was an only child for fifteen years. Her mother was overjoyed when she finally got a son, and Mai felt as if she was never wanted. She has the idea that nobody cares for a daughter. I understand why she feels that way, but she’s hurting Hanabi with those thoughts.”
“She has no idea how blessed she is.”
Zuko looked at Katara sideways. He was surprised by the pain in her voice.
“I try to convince her of that every day, but why does it hurt you so much?”
She took a deep breath and kept staring at the sea, unable to meet Zuko’s eyes.
“I guess this is the right time to tell you. You know, why Aang and I separated.”
A thousand questions burned on Zuko’s tongue but he kept silent, not wanting to interrupt her.
“I can’t have children. I’m infertile.” She coloured deeply when she said it. When Zuko said nothing, she continued: “That’s why I got so angry at Mai. She has a child and she doesn’t even appreciate it, while I would’ve given the world to get pregnant.”
She glanced quickly at Zuko but immediately turned her eyes back to the horizon.
“You know how much Aang wanted children. I wanted to give him a family so badly… But it’s impossible. Do you know what the people in the Earth Kingdom call me? The life bringer! Isn’t it ironic?”
Zuko felt he had to say something. “Are you sure?” was the only thing he could think of.
“Of course,” she said bitterly. “I could’ve gotten pregnant when I was seventeen if I wanted. When I was so young I didn’t think about it too much, but the years passed and I still didn’t get pregnant, even though we tried very hard, and I started to do research. I made plannings and kept close track of my periods and the moon cycle, I drank special teas and tried all kinds of medicines, I consulted creepy old ladies in obscure villages, I made offerings to the spirits… I can’t think of anything I didn’t try.”
“That must’ve been hard for you,” Zuko said quietly.
Katara nodded, her lips pressed together.
“It was hard enough for myself,” she said. “And at first I felt sorry for Aang too… But the worst thing was that he started to blame me. He got impatient, he had the wish to repopulate the Air nomads and I was getting older and older…”
“How could he blame you when you were trying so hard?”
Tears welled up in her eyes again. “I would’ve gotten twenty children for him, as many as I could get. Of course I wanted to be a mother myself, but I did it for him, mostly. I had my own sadness and disappointment to deal with when it became clear that I would never have children, but Aang didn’t want to accept it, he kept pushing me to try new things. He thought I didn’t care enough. After years of hating myself I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I left him. I think he then realized it was a hopeless case, because he never tried to get me back. You can’t imagine what a relief I felt once I’d gone.”
“I can’t believe I never noticed. How horrible for you. Why didn’t you tell your friends what you were going through? You never mentioned it in any of your letters.”
“I was so ashamed. I felt so completely useless, I thought I had failed my most important duty in life.”
“Now you’re the one talking nonsense.” Zuko scooted closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into the embrace and sighed.
“It’s so unfair. I’ve always felt like a mother, I know I’d be a good one. I’ve always wanted children, and I wanted to give Aang the happiness he deserved…”
“I’m sure you would’ve been a great mother,” Zuko said, rubbing her arm. “But you’re so much more than that. You saved the world when you were just a kid! You’re one of the best benders in the world, you’re an amazing healer, and you’re a great friend. Don’t ever think you’re useless.”
Katara showed a shaky smile. “Thanks.”
Zuko continued: “And you already are a mother figure. You and your brother and Aang and Toph were just like a little family, and you were obviously their mom.”
“Yeah, they used to tease me with that.” She smiled a little more. “But it’s just so painful. I was like a mother to them, I’ve helped deliver dozens of babies, I’ve saved so many lives, and yet I’m unable to give life myself.”
“Isn’t there fulfillment in helping others, as well? I mean, I get a lot of satisfaction from the knowledge I’m helping my people, even if I’m not always happy myself.”
“Sure, there is. But sometimes that’s hard to see, you know?”
“Of course. I know.”
They remained quiet for a while. The stars reflected on the dark surface of the sea, and the only sound came from the waves quietly brushing against the shore. Zuko kept his arm around Katara and she leaned against his chest. His steady heartbeat calmed her down. She suddenly remembered they had sat like that before, many years ago, and she moved away from him a bit. He probably remembered, too, because he said: “How long has it been? Ten years at least, since we…”
He hesitated, she coughed, and they both coloured.
“Shouldn’t we get back?” Katara asked abruptly, and stood up. Zuko also got to his feet. “Yeah.” He brushed the sand off his trousers and followed Katara. They slowly walked back into the direction of the city, awkwardly silent for a while. Then Zuko asked:
“Are you sure the problem was you, though?”
Katara gave him a puzzled look but then she realized what he meant.
“Oh! Yes, I’m sure. I’ve healed Aang often enough to know he’s completely healthy and functional.”
Zuko looked away, not wanting to think about that. “But how do you know it’s you, then? Surely you could heal yourself, too?”
“I tried. Believe me, I tried. But it’s not an illness or anything like that. It’s genetic. My body functions as it should, but the ingredients are just not there. It’s not something that can be healed.”
‘That’s tough.”
She sighed. “I’ve been sad about it long enough. It’s time to move on.”
At that moment the final show of fireworks started. They saw the colourful lights burts out above the city and Katara grabbed Zuko’s hand, smiling widely. The lights reflected in her eyes.
“You do have a lovely city,” she said, and Zuko squeezed her hand tightly.
“It’s even better now that you are here,” he said, and enjoyed her blush. When they re-entered the city he let go of her hand, but they kept walking closely together on their way back to the palace.

When Zuko entered Mai’s bedroom, he was pleasantly surprised. Mai had taken Hanabi to their bed and they were sleeping together, Mai’s arm wrapped around her daughter, who was curled up beside her. Their faces looked so serene that Zuko caught himself staring at them for a while. Hanabi did look a lot like her mother. She had the same fine nose and thick black hair. Her face was still chubby now, but no doubt she would start to show the same high cheekbones in a few years. He softly brushed away the black hair from her forehead and pressed a kiss there, then did the same with Mai. He took off his boots and laid down beside them.

Katara fell asleep quickly, but her dreams granted her little rest. She was fourteen again and scared. Running, flying, hiding, her bending weak. She had left home for the first time, she was alone and enemies were everywhere. They were coming after her. She could feel hot breath in her neck, she felt burning fingers on her arms, confining her, strangling her, she couldn’t move she couldn’t breathe she couldn’t see- and then she saw his face, his head shaven and his scar bloody and raw, his features distorted and his eyes full of murder and she screamed-
Panting and sweating she shot upright in her bed. For a moment she stared wide-eyed into the dark, not knowing where she was, not daring to move. Then she exhaled deeply and let herself fall back into her pillow. She knew it would be impossible to fall sleep again. The moon was strong tonight, growing. She could feel its energy push and pull inside her. Quietly she wrapped herself in the white underdress of her kimono, left her room and tiptoed out of the palace, to the gardens.

Chapter Text

The sensation of the sunrise woke Zuko up. He tried to get out of bed quietly, but Mai grabbed his arm. She looked at him with sleepy eyes, her hair in messy strands, and whispered:
"I'm sorry."
He smiled and kissed her fingers. "It's alright. Sleep some more." He pulled the blanket back over her and Hanabi and quickly left the room.
He had felt the call of the sun stronger and stronger in the past years. It always made his blood boil and his bed unbearable, evoking the urge to move, to breathe, to create. His bending was at a very high level now and he'd never felt more in control.
He walked outside barefoot. It was still dark. A thin moon lingered in the dark blue sky above the pointed roofs of the palace. But just above the horizon the pale glow of morning was already visible. He wanted to go to the dojo to do his morning practice, but on the way there he was distracted by a figure in the pond. Katara stood thigh-deep in the water and she was bending, bigger and stronger than he'd seen since she had arrived. Her hair hung down in loose wet strands, and the thin white fabric of her kimono was completely soaked and clung to her skin. Great streams of water circled around her. It was a magnificent sight. There was something very tense about her bending that reminded him of the old days, so he quietly walked up to her. She hadn't seen him yet. Suddenly he jumped into the pond and shot a big ball of fire into her stream. She let out a scream and whirled around, immediately trying to waterwhip him, but he deflected and created enormous flames around him. He felt full of power and laughed, pointing at the sliver of golden sunlight that now showed above the horizon.
"You rise with the moon, but I rise with the sun!"
He'd only wanted to catch her by surprise for old times' sake, but she growled and sent a big wave at him. He had some trouble to keep his footing while it crashed over him, but a trail of flames soon chased after her. She frantically dodged them and sent wave after wave at him.
"Katara, easy! I didn't mean to frighten you!"
She seemed not to hear him. He jumped closer to her, dodging her ice needles, and noticed her eyes were bloodshot. Her jaw was clenched. She had that intense expression, something between fear and determination, that he knew so well from the times they'd fought either against or with each other.
"Calm down Katara! It's just me!" he said, but before he could get any closer he was lifted up by a wave and slammed against a tree on the edge. He was dizzy for a moment and felt the water freeze. For a few seconds he was unable to move, but he had quickly melted the ice and slid down the tree. Protecting himself from her icy daggers by a circle of flames around him, he quickly moved towards her. She was halfway creating a many-armed defense but he cut through it and managed to grab her wrists. She tried to wrestle herself loose, but he was stronger. He tried to get out of the pond with her, but close to the edge she managed to kick his legs out under him and they both fell. The water was very shallow here. Katara landed on her back, with Zuko, still holding her wrists, falling over her. In a reflex she froze the water surrounding her, trapping them both. Their faces were very close and Zuko saw the sheer panic in her eyes. She was breathing very quickly.
"Katara, please calm down," he said, his voice steady and soft. "You don't have to be afraid of me."
Slowly he saw recognition dawning on her face. The panic disappeared from her eyes and she took a deep breath. She blinked a few times, trying to prevent tears, but in vain. A few hot drops rolled down her temples and fell on the ice below, creating little dents in the smooth surface.
"Are you alright?" Zuko asked.
"S-sorry," she breathed. Even with his nose inches away from hers, he could barely hear it. "I panicked."
"I noticed. Now, if you'd like me to let you go you might consider melting the ice. I could melt it myself, but I'd burn you," Zuko said. Katara closed her eyes, breathed through her nose and the ice melted away. Zuko could move again and let go of Katara's wrists. He rolled off her and crawled out of the water, completely soaked. While he shook out his hair in a futile attempt get dry, Katara got to her feet and stepped out of the pond. Zuko did his best not to notice her nakedness under the wet cloth, he didn't want to embarrass her even more. With a small movement she bended the water off herself. Then she wrapped her arms around herself and hung her head, seemingly lost in thought.
Zuko carefully approached her, wary of another attack, and placed a hand on her shoulder. She winced under his touch.
"Are you alright?" he asked, trying to look at her, but she turned her face away.
"I had a dream," she said. "And I was so scared. You were chasing me, like before, and all my old fears came back. So when you jumped at me just now, I just… panicked."
"I think you feared me more than I deserved. I was a pretty pathetic hunter back then."
She didn't reply. He walked around her so she had to face him fully, and grabbed both her hands.
"Katara, I would never do anything to hurt you."
She looked into his earnest eyes. "I know. It wasn't rational."
He gave her half a smile. "I know everything about irrational fears from the past coming back to haunt you. You don't have to explain anything."
Her eyes softened and she wrapped her arms around him. He resisted the urge to stroke her hair, and instead patted her lightly on her back.
"You're still wet!" she said, quickly stepping away from him. She bended him dry. The sun was almost completely visible now and Zuko knew the rest of the palace would soon wake up.
"I guess this was enough for my morning practice," he said. "Come, let's go back, put some more clothes on."
Katara blushed and pulled the thin white fabric closer around her. Zuko pointedly kept his gaze directed at the palace while they walked back, not looking at her again.
"You know, I wasn't even that afraid of you," she said while they entered the building. "Back then. I was mostly angry."
"You didn't have any reason to be afraid, you could defend yourself well enough. Especially after you'd mastered your bending at the North Pole."
She laughed. "That was a nice match we had at the Oasis. But I think that deep down, my fear never really went away."
"Fear and anger were your source of power too, then. Your bending was best when you were really upset."
"Yeah, that's true."
"But your mind was much calmer. You didn't have any inner conflict, that's why it never affected your bending after the war."
"I guess…" she looked away. The truth was that her bending had always been very much influenced by her emotions. Master Pakku had told her that of all the elements, water was most closely connected to emotion. It had been funny to hear the stern old man talk about feelings, but he'd explained that that was what made waterbending powerful.
They had reached the pine-adorned door to Katara's room. She slid it open and stepped inside. Zuko started to walk away, but Katara grabbed his hand and pulled him to her. She hugged him again.
"Thank you."
He returned the hug, then stepped back.
"See you at breakfast."
He walked away. Katara turned around, smoothing her tangled hair, when she noticed she wasn't alone in her room. For a split second the fear was back, clawing at her throat, but then she recognized the figure of the maid in the dim light. Sen bowed and quickly apologized:
"Excuse me, milady, I was just bringing new towels when I noticed you weren't here."
She seemed a little upset. When Katara dismissed her, trying to appear calm, she made great haste to leave the room. After she'd gone, Katara caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and blushed when she realized what Sen must've thought. She was dressed only in her thin underdress, her hair was messy and her cheeks were red. All the apparent evidence of a rough night. And then the maid had probably witnessed her hugging Zuko too… She couldn't help but laugh at the situation. She washed herself, pulled a brush through her hair and put on her azure kimono. With a slightly grumbling stomach she made her way to the other wing and entered the breakfast parlor, where the royal family was already gathered.
"Gee, you look awful," Mai said as soon as she saw her come in. Katara's smile fell off her face. Mai noticed and quickly said: "You look tired, I mean. Haven't you slept well?"
It was obviously a cover-up, but for Zuko's sake Katara put her smile back on. "I had some bad dreams, but it's alright. Once I've eaten something I'll be all good."
Mai opened her mouth, glanced at Zuko, and closed it again. Instead, she gestured to the plates on the low table. "The cook prepared some excellent steamed buns this morning. I hope you'll like them."
Katara sat down eagerly.
"The whole bun won't fit in your mouth, sweetie," Zuko said to Hanabi, who was busy stuffing her face. "You have to chew them well."
"Bud they'we so goopf!"
"Don't speak with your mouth full," Mai said sharply. Hanabi immediately closed her mouth and did her best to chew her bun silently. Zuko sent a reproachful look to Mai while Katara, feeling defiant, promptly stuffed a whole bun in her mouth too. With her mouth full she said:
"They weally awe dewicious, awen't they?"
Hanabi's eyes almost popped out of her head at seeing an adult with such bad table manners, and Zuko couldn't hold in his laughter. When she noticed her father laughing, Hanabi too began to giggle. Only Mai was evidently not amused. She pushed her chair back and stood up.
"You wouldn't say this is the royal family," she said. "Let me know when you've grown up."
She left the room with her long robes swishing behind her.
"Is mommy angry?" Hanabi asked.
"No sweetie," Zuko said, still laughing. "I think she doesn't like the steamed buns."
Katara met his eyes, her cheeks still puffy, and burst out in laughter too.

After she finished breakfast, Katara walked into the garden. It was warm and quiet, with softly rustling bamboo and quacking turtleducks as the only sounds to be heard. She passed the pond and, to her relief, saw no traces of her embarrassing encounter that morning. She found Mai near the dojo, throwing knives at one of the walls. They landed in the wood with small, decided thuds. She decided it would be safer to wait at a distance. Mai noticed her and stopped throwing. She held up a small knife, the metallic gleam matching her silver eyes.
"Two years ago, I could've cut off those hair loops of yours from this distance," she said.
"I know." Katara did her best not to sound impressed.
"But now…" She threw the knife, and it buried itself in the grass about halfway between them. "My aim is off and I don't have any power."
Katara carefully approached her. "I'm sorry I yelled at you last night, and I'm sorry for making fun of you just now. I hope you're not mad at me."
Mai shook her head. "I'm not mad. I'm sorry for my behaviour too. I'm just feeling very irritated and weak. I can't stand anything."
"Are you still feeling ill?"
Mai looked at her intensely. She was taller than Katara, who had never gotten used to the cold, hard eyes that gazed down at her. It was like a metal sheet covered all her emotions. As someone whose eyes were a mirror of her soul, she'd never been able to understand that. As a girl she'd worn her heart on her sleeve, but in the last few years she'd gotten used to shut her feelings up inside as well. She knew the safety it brought. Maybe that was why Mai seemed so unfeeling- for safety. She was determined to try to understand her better.
"Yes, I do still feel ill."
"I only checked your lungs. There might be more," Katara said. Mai slowly nodded.
"My whole body aches. I had a little more energy after you healed my lungs, but that seems to have seeped away already."
"Your appetite seemed back?" Katara asked.
"It's been worse," Mai said, shrugging. Katara tapped her lip.
"The moon was small when I checked on you. That normally doesn't affect my healing, but you know it does have influence on my powers. I might have missed something in your lungs, or maybe there's something in another part of your body."
Mai stepped a little closer.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd look at me again," she said. Katara bowed slightly.
"I will. Whenever you're ready."
Mai picked up her knives and put them back into her sleeves. She started to walk back to the palace, and Katara followed her, but Mai turned to her.
"Don't think I'm a bad mother," she said. "I really love Hanabi."
Katara stopped abruptly. "I don't doubt that. Why would you say that?"
Mai sighed. "I know I'm not as good a mother as Zuko would like me to be. I can't compete with his memory of Ursa. And I guess I just wasn't cut out to be a mother. But that doesn't mean I don't love her."
"Of course you do," Katara said. "Who wouldn't?"
"She's sweet. Zuko adores her, of course. He thinks she's the best thing that's ever walked the earth. But he's blind to anything negative about her."
"Are you talking about the problems of her succession to the throne? Or her lack of bending?"
"For example. He's so focused on protecting her, letting her lead a happy life, but he doesn't prepare her for the hardships of being royalty. People will oppose her, she will have difficulties. She has to be prepared. He just spoils her."
Katara looked doubtful. "Isn't she a bit young to prepare for hardship yet? I can imagine Zuko wants her to have a happy childhood, even if the rest of her life won't be that easy."
"Of course. None of us have had a carefree childhood and I want Hanabi to be happy as much as Zuko. But she's soft and vulnerable. If she is to be Fire Lord one day, she has to be stronger."
"There is no weakness in softness," Katara said. "She doesn't need to rule with fear, she can be powerful without losing kindness."
"You would say," Mai said with half a smile. "You've spent too much time with the Avatar."
Katara closed her eyes and sighed. "I guess. But it's true."
"Zuko doesn't want to push her like his father pushed Azula. But whether he likes it or not, Azula would've been a great Fire Lord."
"You're not serious, are you? Azula was completely twisted."
"I am serious. Of course she was messed up and I was absolutely terrified of her, but she had everything under control. She was in charge and no one doubted that."
"Have you forgotten that you were one of the first ones to defy her?"
Mai looked up at the sky with a face like a porcelain mask.
"Zuko would've died," she said. "I couldn't stand by and watch him die. No matter what would've happened to me, I couldn't just let her kill him."
"You were brave."
“I wasn’t. If I’d been brave I wouldn’t even have gone with her. She bullied Ty Lee into it, but I came with her willingly. Anything to get out of that dirty hole full of peasants.” She caught Katara’s frown and sighed, irritated.“I know, I shouldn’t talk about the Earth Kingdom like that. Anyway, I wanted to get out of there by any means, so I followed Azula. We let her lead us. It wasn’t just intimidation, she had a way to make you want to be approved by her. I guess she’d picked it up from her father. I wanted her to admire me. And I agreed with her! I wanted the Fire Nation to be victorious, I wanted the Avatar gone. I wanted Zuko to be on our side and I felt like he betrayed not just me, but his whole country when he left. I didn’t want him to die, but that doesn’t mean I chose his side. Even though I opposed her by saving Zuko, I still agreed with Azula. I had already accepted that I would be punished for that act, and I thought I deserved it.”
Katara tried to discern what was going on behind Mai's unmoving face. "You've never talked about this much, have you?"
Mai shook her head and tucked a strand of jet black hair behind her ear. "It's coming back to me. I've spent a lot of time in bed, with my whole body hurting, just staring into the dark. Then the memories just start to replay."
"But do you regret anything?"
She was silent for a moment. "I'm not sure. In any case I'm happier than I ever expected to be. I used to be disgusted by everything, but Zuko and Hanabi have really made me happy."
"I envy you," Katara admitted. Now Mai couldn't hide her surprise, and looked at her with slightly widened eyes. "You envy me?"
"You have such a happy marriage and a healthy, happy child. What's not to envy?"
Mai laughed sarcastically. "A whole court full of people judging every step you take," she said. "Nobles to please and peasants to keep satisfied. Never an evening to yourself, always surrounded by people who want things from you."
"I understand being Fire Lady is not an easy job," Katara said. "And I think you're doing it well. You may say you weren't cut out to be a mother but you certainly were cut out to be Fire Lady."
The corners of Mai's mouth lifted up a little. "I am good at it," she said. "Thanks."
They reached the doors to the palace. The guard bowed deeply and Katara bowed back, while Mai only nodded slightly.
They went to Zuko's office and Mai slid open the door. Zuko was looking over documents while Hanabi sat on his desk, playing with his writing equipment. Mai exclaimed: "Hanabi, sweetie, you've got ink on your face!" She hurried to the desk and rubbed her daughter's nose with the tip of her sleeve. Hanabi laughed and Mai couldn't help but smile. She picked her up and held her close against her.
"Little inkmonster. Where's your nanny?" she said in a soft voice. Zuko looked up from his paperwork and shrugged. "She didn't want to play with her nanny, so I just let her stay here."
"I want to write letters too!" Hanabi said. "Just like daddy."
"Very good," Mai said. "What were you writing?" Hanabi pointed at the crumpled sheet of paper and Katara picked it up. "You were drawing," she said. "Look how pretty!" She held up the paper to show Mai, who smiled. "Is that the palace?" she asked.
"Yes. And there's a tree and that's the sun," Hanabi pointed. Mai buried her nose in Hanabi's hair. "That's wonderful, sweetie."
Zuko looked at the happy scene with a strange expression. Katara noticed and raised her eyebrows at him. He quickly smiled. "I see you've reconciled," he said. Katara nodded.
"Mai needs another healing session, I think," she said.
"Tonight, if it's not too much trouble," Mai added. She winced, and held out Hanabi to Katara. "Could you hold her for a moment? She's getting heavier." Katara quickly took Hanabi and Mai exhaled. "I can't even carry her now. I'm still weak."
"Get some rest," Katara said, hoisting Hanabi a bit higher on her hip. "Once you're ready, just send a maid to call me."
Zuko was at Mai's side already. "I'll bring you to bed." He took her arm and they left the room. Katara was lost in thought for a moment, but then Hanabi started stroking her hair.
"You have pretty hair," she said, and Katara laughed. She carefully freed her hair from the grabby little hands and sat Hanabi down on the desk again.
"You made a very nice drawing," she said. "Can you show me more?"
"Uh-huh," Hanabi nodded, and took the brush. "I will draw you in a beautiful dress," she said. Soon Katara saw herself appear on the paper, although she had no ears and her body was the same size as her head.
"That's great," she said. "Can I try?" Hanabi gave her the brush. "What should I draw?"
"Draw daddy!" the girl said. Katara swallowed.
"Are you sure? I'm not very good at drawing people. How about a boat instead?"
"No, draw daddy," Hanabi insisted. Katara gave in. "Alright, I'll try."
She carefully drew the outlines of a human figure. She gave him his formal robes and added his crown, but didn't know how to start his face. Nose and mouth were easy, and his his right eye turned out very life-like, but she struggled with his scar. It ended up much more obvious and heavier than she'd intended. Nevertheless Hanabi was thrilled.
"You're so good! You're better than nanny! Can you teach me?" Before Katara could agree to anything, Zuko entered the office again. Katara became red and tried to hide the drawings, but he'd already seen them.
"Show me," he said, playful, and Katara reluctantly stepped aside. Zuko picked up the papers and smiled at Hanabi's picture, but when he saw his own portrait his mouth became a thin line. He stared at it for a while.
"Is this how you perceive me?" Katara didn't answer. "Well, how fierce I am."
"I'm not very good at drawing, as you know," she quickly said, fidgeting with her hands. "I'm sure you like Sokka's picture of you better."
"Yeah, he's obviously the more talented sibling." He had already put his smile back on, and put the picture away. He picked up a children's book from the table and gave it to Hanabi.
"Sweetie, you can stay here but you have to be quiet, okay? Here's your book, you can practice your reading."
Hanabi nodded with a serious expression and took her book to a corner. Zuko sat down behind his desk and pulled out an extra chair. He offered it to Katara and asked:
"Katara, can you help me write a letter to chief Arnook? I'd like to request the assistance of some waterbenders for the irrigation project."
"Sure," she said, and sat down next to him. “Choose your words carefully though, and don’t mention the South. Chief Arnook has always been an easily offended man, and the relationship between our Tribes has been a bit tense in recent years.”
“My advisors warned me about that. Why is it?”
“The North has always been richer and more sophisticated than the South. We were freer, less formal. I think they looked down on us a little. But recently, thanks to my dad and Sokka, we’ve become much wealthier. The North is much more conservative so they’re not eager to enter into new trade agreements or use new technology, which is why they’re falling behind now. They also still feel bitter about the war, they think they suffered disproportionally during the siege.”
“While every single man of the Southern Tribe was sent to war?”
Katara nodded. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, feelings aren’t rational. Just be careful with your words.”
“It does explain why Chief Arnook didn’t like it when the healers of his tribe went to the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation to help the war victims.”
“All their healers are female. They don’t like the idea of their women traveling unchaperoned,” Katara said. “I’ve been back only once to finish my training with Yugoda, as you know. I completely understand why Gran-Gran left that place.”
Zuko tapped his chin with the writing brush. “Nearing the end of the war, the Fire Nation started drafting women for the army as well. There was a lot of resistance about it at first, but I think in a way it has made the women more aware of their importance. They’ve become much more equal since then.”
Katara smiled. “I noticed that too. Especially compared to the Earth Kingdom, it’s great to see women so emancipated here. Your country is very modern. I think only Kyoshi Island and the South Pole have the same level of gender equality.”
“Well, women have never been excluded from anything. They learn bending, they can enter the military, there are even female Fire Sages. But in history we’ve always been a patriarchy. Just because it’s allowed doesn’t mean it’s encouraged. Most noble women are still raised to be nothing more than a supporting wife.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if those women ‘supporting’ their husbands are actually the ones pulling the reins behind the scenes.”
Zuko laughed. “You might be right. But it’d be nice if they could pull the reins in the open. I’m trying to appoint more female Ministers, and the Council has been thoroughly refreshed as well. After the war more girls started studying law, so the number of female judges has also increased in the last years.”
“That’s great.”
“Have you read the story of the Ninth Prince? You’d like it,” Zuko asked. Katara shook her head. “I haven’t. Fire Nation history?”
“Yeah. About four hundred years ago, when the Fire Lords still had multiple wives, they usually had many children. That caused a lot of rivalry when the Fire Lord passed away. In that time, only princes could ascend to the throne. This particular prince was the ninth son of the Fire Lord, and he was not a very strong character. But his wife was very ambitious and manipulated him, trying to take over the throne. Legend has it that there was a secret corridor behind his throne, where she would stand and whisper instructions to him when he kept audience.”
Katara was listening with gleaming eyes. “And did they succeed?”
“No. Their coup was intercepted and their palace got burned to the ground.”
“So there’s no way to check if that corridor was really there. Too bad…”
“The whole history is in the library. You can look it up if you have time,” Zuko said. “But let’s write this letter first.”

When the letter was finished, they took Hanabi back to the nursery. The little girl had seriously studied her book and only interrupted them a few times when she didn't understand a word. When she had grown tired of her book, she had curled up in a chair and taken a nap. Katara saw the soft looks Zuko cast in his daughter's direction when he looked up from his papers every now and then, and felt they caused a strange feeling in her stomach. Envy, probably, but also something like endearment. It was conflicting.
When Hanabi had disappeared to have lunch with her nanny, Katara tugged at Zuko's sleeve.
"About that drawing," she said, hesitantly. "I hope you don't feel bad about it. You know that's not how I see you."
He looked down on her, obviously trying to keep his face expressionless, but he was not as good at hiding his emotions as his wife. Katara could read him like a book. She'd always been able to.
"I know. It was just… confronting." He raised his hand to his face and absently traced the edge of his scar with his fingertips. "I'm so used to it, I hardly notice it anymore. But I suppose it's stupid to hope that other people can see me without blemish." His voice faltered a little and he turned away from her. She grabbed his arm and forced him to face her, saying, louder than she meant to: "It's not a blemish!" Lowering her voice, she continued: "It really isn't. You were hurt, you were innocent. Surely you don't think of the scar on your chest that way?"
"That's different," he said, still avoiding her eyes. She carefully placed her hand on his cheek, and her cool touch calmed down the storm of emotions inside him. She had been able to calm even the raging Avatar, but still he was always surprised when she managed to soothe him. He'd seen himself as impossible to soothe, and yet one light touch of tan fingers on his skin and his inner turmoil was quieted. He'd missed that when she was away. Her voice was as soft as her touch when she said:
"I always thought it helped the people in other countries accept you more, accept the Fire Nation more. To see that the Fire Lord was scarred by the war just like they were. That you had suffered just like them."
"I don't want them to pity me."
"It's not pity, it's empathy. It wasn't pity that made you ask about my mother and help me find Yon Rha. That was empathy, because you recognized what I felt. Pity comes from a feeling of superiority. Empathy comes from feeling like an equal... feeling the same."
His golden eyes softened when he looked at her. "You and your eloquence," he said, but he smiled lightly. He placed his hand on top of hers, that was still cupping his cheek.
"I know I never offered to heal you again, and you never asked…" Zuko nodded, remembering that actually, one star-lit evening at Ember Island, she had offered again, but he decided to let it pass. She continued: "I guess it's a good thing I never tried. From what I've learned since then, it's impossible to heal scars. It only would've been a disappointment."
One corner of his mouth pulled up. "It wouldn't have been. You, offering, was enough to heal me."
Something flashed in Katara's eyes, and Zuko knew she too remembered her second offer, years ago. For a second she didn't know where to look, but quickly regained her composure. She stepped away from him and put her business face back on.
"Shall we check if Mai is ready for another healing session?" she asked. Zuko nodded. They walked to Mai's room, which was close by. The silence between them was so thick it could've been cut with a knife.

Chapter Text

The Fire Lady was laying on piles of silk on the dark wooden bed in her half-lit room. She was chewing on some almonds and looked excessively bored. A maid was reading to her, but she waved her away when Zuko and Katara entered. Despite her seemingly gloomy mood, she made the effort to smile to them and sat upright.
“Are you ready for another try?” Katara asked. Mai gestured to the copper bowl full of water next to her bed and said: “Go wild.”
While Mai took off her upper clothing, Katara wetted her hands. With her watery gloves she touched Mai’s forehead and closed her eyes. Concentrating deeply, she carefully moved her fingers across Mai’s temples. When she slid her fingers to the soft spots below Mai’s ears her eyebrows furrowed. Mai kept her eyes closed and her expression blank while Katara’s cool hands slid down her neck and further down her chest. Zuko realized she was following her chi channels, and wondered about that. Mai wasn’t a bender, she didn’t use her chi- right?
“Could you take off your robe?” Katara asked. Mai cast a quick glance at Zuko, almost shy, but took off her underdress without objecting. She had become very skinny and her pale skin seemed almost translucent in the half dark. She kept her eyes down. Katara slid her hands down her frail torso and she shuddered a little when the cold water touched her skin. Zuko took her hand and squeezed it, and she gave him a grateful look.
“I don’t understand,” Katara mumbled with her hands still on Mai’s back. Mai gave her a questioning look over her shoulder.
“There’s no infection,” Katara said, “and I can’t sense anything that shouldn’t be there.”
Zuko and Mai looked at her confused. Katara dropped her hands and said:
“Okay, time for a lesson in healing. I wish my teacher Yugoda was here, she could explain it so well… Anyway,” she traced the chi channels in Mai’s neck, “if there is any infection or strange substance in your body, like poison or rotten food or anything else that can make you sick, I can sense your own body fighting against that. I feel the activity of your chi. Then I can use my healing to help. In a way I only enhance your body’s own healing mechanism.”
Mai nodded.
“But with you, I can’t feel that. Your body isn’t fighting anything.”
Zuko opened his mouth to say something, but Katara interrupted. “Of course, you are obviously ill. I can tell your body is upset, tired. As your lungs showed, you’re prone to infection, your resistance is very low. But I can’t find the cause of it.”
“Is there nothing else you can try?” Zuko asked, looking a little angry. Katara bit her lip.
“There is,” she said hesitantly. “But we will have to wait for the full moon.”
Mai seemed confused but Zuko narrowed his eyes. He understood. “I see.”
“What?” Mai asked. “What can you do?”
“I can examine you better with a full moon. I have powers then that I don’t usually have.”
“Waterbending stuff?” Katara hm-ed a confirmation. Mai shrugged. “If you think it’ll help. But is there nothing you can do now? The full moon is still almost a week away, right?”
“Well, I can strenghten your chi and boost your resistance, that will at least give you more energy. I’ll do that now.” Katara rolled back her sleeves and wetted her hands again. Zuko silently watched as she worked with the glowing water over Mai’s body. He tried very hard to remember the few occasions he’d seen Katara’s bending during the full moon. First of all their match at the oasis in the North Pole, but that had been normal waterbending, just much more powerful. There were a few occasions where she had bended without water, and those had all been during the full moon. The captain of the Southern Raiders came to mind. The assassin that had tried to kill him, months after he’d been crowned Fire Lord. She had planned to heal Azula’s mind during a full moon, too, although she never got the chance. He pressed his lips together and tried to ban those dark thoughts from his mind.
They left Mai to sleep until dinner. Zuko looked glum, and Katara felt frustrated too, but she was determined not to let Zuko feel unhappy.
“I’m sure I’ll figure out what’s wrong with her,” she said.
“If anyone can, it’s you,” Zuko answered, but he didn’t sound any more cheerful. Katara elbowed him. “I’m hungry, aren’t you? Let’s get Hanabi and have some tea.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”

Katara had been right, Hanabi did cheer Zuko up. He took her on his lap after he finished making tea and her cheerful chattering lightened the mood. They sat on their knees on the mats in a small pavilion in the far west of the palace, looking out over the gardens.
“This is a beautiful room,” Katara commented, holding the elegant ceramic teacup in both hands. “I love that painting of the purple flowers.”
“My grandfather Azulon painted it. This was his favourite room,” Zuko said, smirking at her shock. “Aside from a brilliant strategist and mass murderer he was also a talented painter and poet, and a master at the tea ceremony.”
“Oh.” Katara said, swallowing. “Don’t tell me he made this teacup as well?”
Zuko’s face softened. “No. No, that one’s from my mother’s collection.”
Katara drank the last bit of her tea, raised the cup to her forehead in a gesture of respect and placed it before her on the mats.
“I noticed you still keep her picture in your office. Am I wrong in thinking that Mai looks a lot like her?”
Zuko stroked his daughter’s hair and stared at the teacup.
“No, I guess you’re not wrong. They do look a bit alike.”
“Mai told me this morning that she feels like she can’t compare to the memory of your mother,” Katara said, carefully choosing her words. “I think she fears that you think she’s not enough like her.”
“Mai may look like her, but she’s nothing like my mother. I never thought that,” Zuko said curtly. Katara noticed she had touched a sore subject and was silent. After a while Zuko said, in a very different tone: “Maybe I do expect too much. I know she does her best.” He looked at the ground. “I guess I’m hard on her sometimes. But I really do love her.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself,” Katara quickly said. “I know you love her. But I know as well as you that we can still hurt the people we love, even if we don’t mean to.”
Zuko looked at her. “Does this have anything to do with Aang?”
Now Katara directed her gaze to the ground. “Maybe. I thought he was unfair to me, but I haven’t always been nice to him either. I can say mean things when I’m irritated,” she sighed. Zuko glanced at Hanabi and was relieved to see she wasn’t paying attention to their conversation.
“I know you can be fierce,” he said. “You never held back with me. But with Aang you were always the epitome of gentleness and patience. I can’t imagine the two of you arguing.”
“I couldn’t either,” Katara said, looking sad. “He was always sweet and good-natured, a cheerful guy. That’s what I liked so much about him. He really made me laugh.”
“That’s what I hated about him in the beginning,” Zuko said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “But he got to me.”
“He gets to everyone eventually. That was part of the problem,” Katara explained. “I mean, I know he adored me. It was obvious. But he had so many things that distracted him. And not Avatar things, I would’ve understood that, but just simple daily things. He couldn’t ever be serious, he couldn’t give me attention for longer than a few minutes before running off to something else. Every serious conversation we had was about him, about his problems, never about what I was feeling. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for me, I know he cared for me more than anything in the world. But I guess I got impatient and jealous. I needed more.” She hung her head. “I always thought that with patience, maybe a gentle nudge now and then, he’d come around. I never confronted him head-on about what was bothering me, I only hinted, hoping he’d pick up. But I should’ve listened to Toph. Sometimes I think she understands him better than I do. He's so flighty in nature that he just… flew over me. Maybe if I’d been more firm, more steadfast, we’d still be together.”
“Don’t you think you’re glossing over some essential problems there? From what you’ve told me, I think your way of communicating wasn’t the only thing that wasn’t working out.”
She sighed and leaned back. A strand of hair had come loose from her hairdo, tickling her forehead, and she blew it away. “I guess you’re right. But we ended in such a bad place, I still feel guilty about it. He didn’t deserve it.”
“Do you think he’s still sad about it?” Zuko asked. Katara looked downcast. “I wouldn’t be surprised. But maybe I flatter myself. I hope he’s happy, anyway. Happier than me.”
“Do you miss him?” Zuko asked quietly, taking another sip of his tea to hide his curiosity. He hoped she didn’t mind his prodding, but he was dying to understand more of the whole situation.
“I’m not sure,” Katara admitted. “I’d gotten so used to his presence that it was strange to break with that habit, and I truly felt lost for a while when I had just left the Eastern Air Temple. You know how we Water Tribe people are, we need a family. But to be honest, it was great to be alone again. I’d been taking care of that community for so long that, after I left, I felt like I was finally getting to know myself again. I wasn’t looking at myself through the eyes of others anymore, I didn’t have to bend to anyone else’s needs. By the time I’d arrived in Ba Sing Se, I felt light and free, although of course I was still sad.”
“And are you still sad now?” Zuko asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage. Katara looked at him with a soft expression.
“No. I’m not sad anymore,” she said, and smiled. Zuko lifted Hanabi off his lap and said: “Hey, I have an idea. Would you like to go into the city this afternoon? I’m out of red ink and I’m picky, so I like to buy it myself. We can take Hanabi with us.” Katara’s eyes lit up and she poked Hanabi’s side. “Do you hear that? We’re going into town!”
Hanabi laughed, ducking away from Katara’s tickling fingers. She shrieked and tried to hide behind Zuko. “Daddy, help, she’s tickling me!”
“Just tickle her back,” Zuko said, “like so!” and attacked Katara. Hanabi could escape while Katara turned into a giggling mess, trying to dodge Zuko’s fingers.
“You meanie!” she said, panting between her laughs, but managed to work him down on the ground. She poked his sides, which she knew were his weak spots, and he wriggled, protesting, but then Hanabi jumped on her back.
“I’ve got you Auntie!” she squealed, wrapping her arms around Katara’s neck.
“Oh no!” Katara exclaimed, dramatically falling to the ground next to Zuko. “I’m slain!” Hanabi jumped around the room and did a little dance. “I won, I won!”
Zuko stood up and laughed. He held out his hand to Katara, she grabbed it and stood up. While Katara straightened Hanabi’s clothes Zuko left the room to call a servant from the corridor. The tea things were taken away and Zuko took Hanabi’s hand.
“Come sweetie, we’re going out.”

Chapter Text

They took two guards, but no palanquin. Zuko liked the walk and often went into town like this, and Katara also thought she had been confined inside the palace for too long. Hanabi complained though, she liked the palanquins.
“No sweetie, walking is good for you,” Zuko said. “It’ll make you stronger! If you sit in a palanquin all the time your legs will turn into pudding.”
“Besides,” Katara added, “this way you can enjoy the view much better!” She gestured to the magnificent volcano that towered over the city, and the sparkling sea below. They were walking down the broad paved lane that serpentined down from the palace to the city. The lavish gardens belonging to the mansions of the noble families rolled out on either side, their trees casting a welcome shadow over the road while giving privacy to the residents. The palace lay on high ground, where it was slightly cooler, but the city would be very warm. Nevertheless Katara enjoyed the heat that permeated her body, seeping up the rays of the sun. Every inch of her was warm, fluid, alive.
“But it’s so hot…” Hanabi sighed.
“We’ll walk in the shadow, and we won’t go too quick. How about some shaved ice when we’re at the market?” Zuko proposed. Katara took some of her bending water and sprayed a light curtain of droplets onto Hanabi’s face.
“Ohh, that’s nice!” the girl exclaimed. “And I want mango flavoured ice!”
They reached the city soon and Hanabi got her ice. Katara bought some too, but Zuko insisted that the Fire Lord couldn’t be spotted eating ice in public, so he declined. She shrugged and gave his portion to their guards instead, who clearly didn’t think it unsuitable for them to enjoy shaved ice on the job.
The market was big, the biggest in the capital. Katara was sure you could get anything you could think of here, anything that wasn’t illegal. But surely there were other places in the capital for that. She strolled past the stalls, inspecting some leather, while Zuko looked for a stall with writing equipment. He held Hanabi’s hand while she enjoyed her rapidly melting ice, and his guards followed not far behind. He nodded in answer to the bows he received from passerby's, but in general people didn’t seem too surprised to see their Fire Lord amongst them and he could shop relatively undisturbed. Katara figured he went into town often. She thought back of the tiny market in the village nearby the Eastern Air Temple where she’d walked to so many times. She remembered the high, snow-covered mountains all around it, the crisp air, the Air Acolyte women that would accompany her to post letters, buy cooking knives, watermelons, ink brushes, shoes, heavy bags filled with the local long-grained rice. They sold what they grew on the Temple grounds, ranging from sweet potatoes to medical herbs. Katara would often be approached by the village people, and she was always ready to heal the grazed knees and bloody noses of the kids, the fevers of the babies and the painful joints of the elderly. Sometimes the villagers would even make the long walk to the Temple to ask for help, either spiritual or medical. She bit her lip. There was no healer now that she’d left. How would the villagers be doing? And the Air Acolytes at the Temple? But she shook her head. They had plenty of medical herbs growing on the mountainsides, and Jaya and Shanti had always helped her take care of the sick and picked up a lot of knowledge. They would be fine.
She saw Zuko beckoning her and joined him at the stall with writing equipment.
“Which one do you prefer?” he asked, showing two ink sticks. Katara blinked.
“I don’t see the difference.”
Zuko explained: “This one gives a thicker ink, opaque and somewhat darker, but this one is more fluid and allows more refined writing. I don’t know which one to use for my signature.”
Katara inspected the crimson sticks closer. She rubbed her finger over them, causing a disapproving look from the vendor, but he didn’t dare to speak up in the presence of the Fire Lord.
“I wouldn’t take the darker one, it’s too heavy for you. If you take the more fluid one you can show off your beautiful handwriting,” she said, and winked.
Zuko pretended not to blush and handed a coin to the vendor, who bowed deeply.
“Could you send a pack of that mulberry bark paper to the palace as well? Thank you,” Zuko said.
“I’ve just received some excellent quality brushes as well, Your Highness,” the vendor said. “Imported from Whale Tail Island, made with tiger-cat fur!”
“Maybe another time,” Zuko said, prying a carved jade ink stone out of Hanabi’s hand and placing it back. Before the girl could protest, they quickly walked on. Suddenly Katara started.
“Do you hear that?”
Further down at the square, a flute could be heard accompanying a steady drum and a pipa. Katara’s face lighted up and she grabbed Zuko’s hand, pulling him towards the sound.
“Maybe they’re giving a show! Let’s check it out!”
Hanabi caught her excitement and hurried along too, followed closely by the guards. They reached the square where a crowd had gathered, and Katara swiftly maneuvered through the people. No one seemed to notice the Fire Lord had appeared among them, being dragged along by a Water Tribe woman.
In the middle of the square a fat man sat on a small stool, energetically beating a drum. A tall man in long robes struck the snares of his pipa while a woman with flowers in her hair played the flute. A girl of about ten years old was balancing on a tightrope that was strung between two buildings, a meter or so above the ground. She was dressed in brightly coloured clothes and performed some tricks on the rope, yielding applause and cheering from the crowd. Hanabi watched her with wide eyes and Zuko smiled, remembering an eight-year-old Ty Lee in a poofy pink dress, balancing on the edge of a fountain, grinning from ear to ear.
The girl jumped off the rope with a backward flip and bowed to the final round of applause. Some people left the square, others joined, and the man with the pipa stepped forward.
“We will now perform our most popular song,” he said, “made famous in Omashu. Let’s hear your applause for The Two Lovers!”
“I love that song!” someone behind Zuko exclaimed, and Katara laughed out loud.
“Do you know this one?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said, smiling. “It’s Hanabi’s favourite. She wouldn’t stop singing it last summer. It drove Mai crazy, she was mad at me for teaching it to her.”
The girl was jumping up and down and clapped her hands. The flower-adorned woman and the young girl, apparently her daughter, had joined together for a dance in the semicircle created by the other musicians. Their leader struck a chord on his pipa and sang, only slightly out of tune:
“Twooooo loveeers!”
The drum beat a steady tempo. The women started their dance and some people in the audience joined in. “Forbiddeeeen from one anotheeeer!”
Katara grabbed Hanabi’s hands and started dancing with the girl, singing along.
“A waaaaar divides their peopleeee! And a mountain divides them apaaaart!”
She glanced over her shoulder, her braid bouncing with her movements.
“Come on Zuko, join us!”
He shook his head, although he was laughing.
“I’m the Fire Lord, Katara, I can’t be seen dancing to some silly song!”
She stuck out his tongue to him. “Suit yourself, spoilsport,” and continued hopping up and down to the rhythm with Hanabi. Even the guards couldn’t keep still, although they quickly regained their straight posture when Zuko shot them a look. The band had reached the final chorus.
“Secret tunneeeel! Through the mountains! Secret tunneeel! Secret secret secret secret-”
The movements of the dancing woman and her daughter became bigger while the rhythm became quicker, ending in a dramatic climax involving a lot of swaying robes at the final chord:
“Tunnel!”
The crowd cheered and applauded while the musicians bowed. The girl grabbed a basket and quickly went round the audience, smiling broadly at the people who dropped some coins into it. While the people swarmed out over the square again, Katara approached the still slightly panting dancer, who picked up a flower that had fallen from her hair during the dance.
“Lily?” Katara asked. The woman looked up.
“Katara! How nice to see you!” she exclaimed. She turned around and waved to the pipa-player. “Chong, look what a surprise!”
The tall man joined them with a wide grin. “Hey Katara, long time no see. What brings you here?”
“I’m visiting an old friend,” she said, gesturing to Zuko who followed behind her. Chong extended his hands and shook Zuko’s eagerly.
“A friend of yours is a friend of mine,” he said. “Splendid to meet you! I’m Chong and this is my wife Lily.”
“Fire Lord Zuko,” Zuko said, and enjoyed the amazement on the man’s face.
“No way!” he said, “Did you hear that Lily? He’s the Fire Lord!”
“Oh yeah, you look just like him,” Lily said to Zuko. He raised his eyebrow at Katara, who shrugged. “How’d you like our dance?” the woman continued.
“Very nice. Is this your daughter?” Zuko asked, looking at the girl who had brought the coin-filled basket to the drum player and was now showing off her costume to an admiring Hanabi.
“Yeah, that’s our little flower, Bluebell,” Lily smiled. “Isn’t she great on the tightrope?”
“She’s certainly talented. Where did she learn it?” he asked.
“On Kyoshi Island, we were there a few months ago,” Lily answered. “We just couldn’t drag her away from those warrior women there.”
“The Kyoshi Warriors?” Katara piped. “Did you, uh… speak to any of them?”
“Nah, we didn’t really, but Bluebell did. Honey-bun, come over here for a second,” Lily called. The girl cartwheeled to them with Hanabi running after her.
“What is it mom?” she asked, balancing on one foot.
“Do you remember the Avatar’s wife? She wants you to tell about what you learned on Kyoshi Island.”
“Oh! Uhm- well, actually,” Katara stuttered. “I’m not the Avatar’s wife.”
Lily looked at her with big eyes. “Then are you another Katara?”
She sighed. “No. We used to be together, but I'm no longer with the Avatar.”
“The Avatar!” Chong exclaimed, having only heard Katara's last word. “Is he here too? Wonderful, he can join our next dance!”
“No, Chong, he’s not here,” Katara said curtly, though she quickly changed her tone to a more friendly one. “But I’m sure he would’ve loved to dance with you.”
“He’s a great dancer,” Chong nodded. “I keep telling him he should quit all that spirity-shmirity business and join our group. He’s a nomad just like us.”
Seeing Zuko’s face grow more and more incredulous, Katara quickly whispered to him:
“We found out they’re descendants from Air Nomads. Aang’s been trying to get them to live at one of the Temples but they prefer wandering around. Much like the original Nomads, actually.”
“Aha.”
Katara turned back to Lily and her daughter.
“So Bluebell, you learned those tricks on Kyoshi Island?”
“Yeah, one of the Kyoshi Warriors taught me. She said she used to live in the Fire Nation!”
“I think I know who you mean,” Katara said, smiling at Zuko who was listening attentively.
“She said we reminded her of a circus and she came to every show we gave there. She showed me how to do somersaults and walk on a tightrope,” the girl told proudly.
“And did you meet the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors as well?” Katara asked, hiding the excitement in her voice.
“No,” Bluebell answered, “but I want to! I want to be a Kyoshi Warrior when I grow up!”
“I want to be a Kyoshi Warrior too!” Hanabi said, mimicking the older girl. Zuko laughed.
“Don’t let mommy hear you,” he said, and grabbed Hanabi’s hand. He had noticed the disappointment on Katara’s face.
“It was an honor to meet you, Chong, Lily,” he said, slightly bowing to both of them. “But I’m afraid we have to go on.”
“Yeah, us too,” Chong said, bowing back. “We can’t let Moku pack up everything by himself.”
“If you’re still in the Fire Nation next month you’re welcome to play at the End-of-War festival,” Zuko said. “Just come to the palace and I’ll make sure you get a good stage.”
Lily and Bluebell bowed as well. Katara waved a goodbye to them and so did Hanabi, a pout on her face.
“I want to learn how to do that, too,” she said, tugging at Zuko’s sleeve. Katara looked at him.
“It might be a good idea, you know,” she said. “If she does turn out to be…”
He looked at her sharply and she understood she shouldn’t mention Hanabi’s lack of bending. Maybe the girl knew how much of an issue it was, and was self-conscious about it? Or didn’t he want the guards to hear?
“Anyway, it would be nice if she could learn a few things,” she said. Zuko nodded slowly.
“It wouldn’t hurt,” he said. “I’ll discuss it with Mai. We could visit Kyoshi Island when she’s better.”
Katara smiled.
“Why were you so curious about Suki, though?” Zuko asked.
“I just wanted to know how she was doing,” she said, looking a little embarrassed. “I haven’t heard from her in a while.”
Zuke eyed her sideways. “I wanted to ask you, but I forgot about it,” he said. “Why didn’t you go to the South Pole instead of Ba Sing Se? I thought you would want to return home, to your family.”
She looked at her feet. “I was… I thought… I wanted to, really,” she stammered, “but I was…” She stood still and Zuko startled when he saw teardrops splashing on her robe.
“Katara, what is it?” he asked, panicking. Had he said something wrong? He looked around for something, anything, then grabbed her upper arms. “Katara, please, I didn’t mean-”
She covered her mouth with her hand in an effort to stop sniffling. He stroked her arm, trying to comfort her while she rubbed her eyes and nose.
“I’m sorry, it’s alright, don’t worry,” she said, taking a deep breath.
“Don’t cry, Auntie,” Hanabi said, hugging Katara’s knees. She smiled shakily and ruffled the girl’s hair.
“I’m alright. Thanks,” she said, and looked at Zuko.
“I was ashamed,” she said, colouring. “I couldn’t go home and tell my dad that I broke up with the Avatar, that I could never give him grandchildren, that I’d failed…”
“You didn’t fail, Katara, that’s nonsense and you know it.”
“But I know he’d be disappointed. And I couldn’t face Sokka, he would immediately know how unhappy I was and it would make him unhappy too, and I couldn’t see Suki and their children, it would be so confrontational…”
“You mean you haven’t told Sokka about your… not having children?”
She shook her head.
“But what reason did you give him then, for leaving Aang?”
She mumbled something he couldn’t hear.
“What?”
“I didn’t give him any!” she said, louder. “He doesn’t know I left Aang, at least not from me. I haven’t written to him yet.”
“You haven’t written to him since you left Aang? But that’s been almost a year!” She turned a deep red.
“No,” she admitted in a small voice.
“Write to him,” Zuko said. He sounded very stern. “As soon as we’re back in the palace. You have to.”
“B-but I don’t know what to say to him.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s your brother. You can’t lose contact with him.”
“I know. I was going to write to him eventually.”
“Never hesitate with that, it’s too important. The bond you two have is something special, you shouldn’t risk that.”
She looked at him inquisitively.
“You’re thinking of Azula, aren’t you?”
He pressed his lips together and looked away.
“I still feel so guilty,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want you to feel the same.”
“That won’t happen,” Katara said. “And I promise I’ll write to him when we’re back.”
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” Hanabi said. She didn’t understand a thing about the adults who suddenly seemed so sad. Hadn’t they just had fun and danced?
“Nothing, sweetie,” Zuko said. “Katara just misses her brother.”
“Oh,” Hanabi said, and grabbed Katara’s hand. “I understand. I wish I had a brother. It would be fun to have someone to play with.”
“It’s not so much fun when he throws snowballs at you,” Katara said, but she smiled. She squeezed Hanabi’s hand. “But you’ll meet other kids when you go to school next year, and you can play with them.”
“I play with the kitchen boys sometimes but they’re all so much older than me! And they’re all boys,” she pouted.
Katara kept holding Hanabi’s hand, chatting with her. She seemed calm again, but Zuko still had to regain his inner peace. He observed Katara walking down the market, holding his daughter’s hand. How cruelly ironic, he thought. That she, the girl who had radiated the same warmth as his mother, who had fussed over the ragtag group of kids under her care, who everyone turned to with their little or big problems, that she should be the one unable to have children of her own. His eyes rested on her back, the sunlight glowing in her wavy brown hair, holding Hanabi’s hand and smiling at the girl. He heard them laugh. Was this what she would have looked like, if she would’ve had a child? His child?
He stopped his train of thought. That was a dangerous path, he knew it. He quickened his step and caught up with them.
“What do you say, should we get some coconut rice cakes to take back home?”

Chapter Text

“Thanks for bringing the coconut rice cakes,” Mai said. Katara looked up.
“No problem. It was Zuko’s idea.”
The corner of the Fire Lady’s mouth turned up. “He knows I like them.”
Dinner was over, and they were sitting in one of the elegant rooms in the company of the present noble ladies. One was telling a story about her husband’s political ambitions and some others were listening and laughing, while the rest of them were quietly chatting with each other.
“Lady Ou-yang may talk about her husband as if he’s a political klutz,” Mai said in a low voice to Katara, “but she’s the one who talked him into that stupid idea in the first place.”
“Zuko told me the story of the Ninth Prince this morning,” Katara said. “Are many women of the Fire Nation like that?”
Mai showed something akin to a smile. “Some of them, yes. We can’t always rely on the men to do their jobs right.” Katara smiled back, happy to have found a topic of conversation that seemed to interest Mai.
“I’m always happy to notice how equal men and women are here,” she said. Mai nodded. “Well, it becomes less the higher in rank you go. For soldiers, farmers and market vendors there’s no difference, but for us noble daughters, there wasn’t much perspective. When we were children Azula always said she wanted to change that.”
“Were you also that ambitious?”
Mai cast a pensive look at the women in the room. “I didn’t really care. But I do know that I was bored out of my mind. Maybe if I’d been given more opportunity, I would’ve had a different sense of purpose.”
When Katara didn’t answer, she continued: “Look at this room. Why are the men and the women sitting apart after dinner? The men discuss politics with the Fire Lord, but what are we supposed to do? Embroidery?”
Katara laughed and said: “You’re right, it is strange. Especially now that there are also female Ministers.”
“There’s only one female Minister, and she’s for education and the protection of cultural heritage. Not exactly an exciting subject.”
“Well, it’s better than nothing. What subject would you have preferred?”
Mai smirked. “There’s no Ministry of War anymore,” she said, “but I like to think I would’ve been a good strategist.”
Katara laughed. “I think you would have. What about Hanabi though? You said it would’ve been easier if she’d been a boy, but does it really make a difference?”
Mai’s face instantly became a mask again and Katara knew she had touched a sensitive spot.
“A woman can be Fire Lord. We’ve had those in the past. Azula would’ve been one. That’s not the problem.”
“Then what?”
“What man is going to marry her, knowing he will never be anything more than Prince Consort?” Mai asked, suddenly fierce. Her eyes had a metallic gleam as she turned her face to Katara. “A woman doesn’t expect power when she marries a Fire Lord, but a man? Who would want to stand in her shadow all the time?”
She regained herself and gazed expressionless at the noble ladies, who had no idea about the rage in their Lady’s mind.
“And besides that, I told you, I think Hanabi is too weak-hearted to be Fire Lord.”
“And I told you that I don’t think that will be a problem,” Katara said sternly.
Mai remained still. “Then we don’t agree on that.”
Katara didn’t know how to react to that, so she decided to change the topic and asked: “Are all these ladies married?”
“Yes,” Mai answered. “Unmarried women aren’t seen as adults here and usually stay with their family. The noble ones, that is. Come to think of it,” she turned to Katara, “why did you never marry the Avatar?”
Katara tried to hide her sudden peak of distress, but she was sure Mai noticed. Was this a punishment for her questions about Hanabi?
“Well, first of all, he’s a monk,” she said. She could’ve slapped herself. Mai raised an eyebrow. “But am I right in assuming he didn’t keep celibacy?”
“He didn’t- I mean, we didn’t, no,” Katara said, colouring. “Although in normal circumstances he probably would have. But we were trying to revive the Air Nomads.”
“Well, the Air Temples are populated again and there are quite a number of new airbenders. But none of that was a result of your marriage, or lack thereof.”
“You don’t have to rub it in. You know we wanted children,” she said sharply, and Mai remained silent for a moment.
“Is that why you said you envied me?” The Fire Lady sounded like she had unexpectedly solved a murder mystery.
Katara checked if none of the noble ladies could hear them.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I would’ve done anything for a child of my own.”
Mai gave her a look that was more empathic than Katara had ever seen. Her silver eyes were clear and light, and full of attention.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice much softer than before. “I never realized.”
Katara shook her head. “Don’t mind it. I’ve resigned myself to it a long time ago. But anyway, that explains why I’m not married.”
“There are plenty of ladies in this room who are married but don’t have children,” Mai said. “It’s a pity for you, but why should it hinder your marriage?”
“In the Southern Water Tribes, marriages are very different from here,” Katara explained. “You are more like the Northern Tribe, with arranged marriages as political moves. But we don’t really have an institution like marriage. Once two people have a child together, they’re considered married in your sense of the word. But it’s more like a community, the whole village raises the kids. It also happens that people have children with different partners. The Air Nomads used to be like that as well. The children were raised in the Temples. Aang didn’t even know exactly who his parents were.”
“But we attended your brother’s wedding. Why did he think it was neccessary to marry, if that’s not your tradition?”
“It is the tradition of Kyoshi Island. That’s where they married.”
“Of course. I forgot, I keep thinking Kyoshi Island is part of the Water Tribes.”
“That’s not very strange, we have a lot of similarities. Officially it’s Earth Kingdom, but they’ve been independent ever since the age of Avatar Kyoshi.”
Mai sighed. Apparently she was bored again already. “I’m getting tired. Will you accompany me to my room?” she asked. Katara nodded. Mai stood up and dismissed the assembled ladies. When the Fire Lady leaned on her arm for support when they left the room, Katara noticed the jealous looks she received. Mai was singling her out as her special companion, a privilige that was envied by the court ladies. She was once again thankful that she didn’t have to deal with court intrigue on a daily basis.
“It looks like there are many ladies eager to lend you a supporting arm as well,” Katara said when they walked down the hallway. Mai laughed sarcastically.
“Oh, sure they are. It’s fun to let them dangle, begging for attention. They’re all hoping to climb the social ladder.”
“Can you ever form an honest friendship with one of them? I assume they always have a hidden agenda, don’t they?”
“Yes, definitely. None of them can be trusted. It’s annoying how they try to win my favour, they’d kiss my feet if I asked them. All for a little more prestige!”
“How lonely that must be. What can they gain by that? Being looked up to by the other ladies?”
“Actually most of them try to win my favour for their husbands. They hope I’ll put in a good word with the Fire Lord and his political career will get a boost. It never works, but they keep trying.”
“So the only political power you have is your influence on Zuko?”
“Technically, yes. That’s why I’m so worried about Hanabi’s marriage, the Royal Consort never has any real power. It’s a remainder from centuries ago, when only men could inherit the throne. Women were married to princes in the hope that they could be beneficial to their families, and to prevent nepotism in that regard the Fire Lady was stripped of all power.”
Katara laughed. “If all wives were like the one in the story of the Ninth Prince, I understand why the Fire Lady wasn’t allowed more power. But I’d feel very frustrated if I were you.”
Mai shrugged. “It’s the way it is. I never had political ambitions anyway.”
“But do you help Zuko with his work?”
“No. All that paperwork bores me.”
They had reached Mai’s room. Mai released Katara’s arm and gave her a small bow.
“It’s been a pleasure,” she said. Katara smiled and bowed back. A maid opened the door and Mai stepped inside. Katara turned around and went to her own room, which was only a few steps away.
She pulled the golden pin out of her hairdo and the brown waves fell down over her shoulders. Her hair had gotten very long, it reached past her hips. It looked beautiful but it became an impossible mess if she didn’t keep it braided. She shrugged off her heavy outer robe and stepped into the comfortable felt slippers. What a lot of work to keep up appearance… She couldn’t imagine sitting down to a formal dinner every day, with all the hassle that came with it.
She took her unfinished letter to Sokka out of the lacquered letter-box and sat down.

Dear Sokka,

I’m sorry I haven’t written to you in so long. There is a lot I have to explain. I’m not at the Eastern Air Temple anymore- if you’ve sent any letters there you might have already gotten a reply with the news that I left.
Aang and I are no longer together. There are many different reasons for this but the main one is that it’s impossible for us to have a family. You know we’ve always wanted children, but a few years ago I discovered that that’s impossible for me. I tried to find a solution but nothing works. I will never have children. I’ve been sad and frustrated and angry about it, but there is nothing to be done. I have accepted it as a fact.
You probably wonder why I didn’t share this with you sooner. I can’t deny that I was jealous of you and Suki when Kunik and Maaya were born, and I didn’t want to admit that to you. Don’t take that the wrong way: I love them and I’m very happy for you. It just… stung a little. I was also very ashamed- I still am, but I don’t want to hide it anymore. If you want, you can tell Dad. He has to know sooner or later, but I’m afraid I can’t tell him face to face. Embarrassing as it is, I can’t keep it a secret now that Aang and I separated, and I don’t want to. You’re free to let Suki or anyone else from our family read this letter, too.
I went to Ba Sing Se after I left the Eastern Air Temple. I asked Toph not to tell you I was there, but I’m not sure if she kept her word. I don’t mind if she didn’t. It was good to be alone for a while, and it was even better to stay with Toph for so long. She gave me a lot of support. I feel like I know myself better now. I’m sure you think that’s girly stuff, so I won’t talk about feelings too long. I’m in the Fire Nation at the moment, staying with Zuko. Mai is ill and I’m here to heal her. I will probably stay here until she’s fully recovered. The End-of-War festival is next month. That’s usually the time when the envoys and ambassadors of the other nations visit. Maybe I’ll see some Southern Water Tribe folks then?
Anyway, I’m doing fine. I hope everything is going well with you, too. Please give my warmest love and kisses to Suki, Kunik and Maaya, and to Dad. I miss you all very much. If you can, please let me know how you are doing. I look forward to hearing from you- and again, I’m really sorry for not writing sooner.

Love you,

Katara.

P.S. You can thank Zuko for kicking me into writing this letter. He sends his regards.

She put her brush away and sighed deeply. She blew on the paper to dry the ink, then rolled it up and sealed it. She hadn’t seen Zuko since they left the dining room so she wanted to show him she’d fulfilled her promise. Carefully she stepped out of the room, sliding the door close as silently as possible. It was dark and probably very late. Zuko was probably asleep already so she just wanted to put the letter on his desk. He would see she had kept her promise and then it could be posted first thing in the morning.
The wooden floors squeaked beneath her feet, giving away any assassins that might manage to sneak in. Absently she thought the sound made secret midnight rendez-vous impossible as well. She passed a patrolling guard on her way to Zuko’s office. He eyed her strangely, but answered her bow and didn’t ask anything. Her thoughts about assassins brought back memories of the months just after the war had ended. The whole palace felt like it had been turned upside down. Most guards and nobles didn’t really mind the sudden shift in the royal family- they just served whichever Fire Lord was in power. But big changes had to be made, and not everything was easy to adjust to. The military had to be redesigned, not to conquer, but to rebuild. Colonized land had to be given back. Reparations had to be paid, and that money had to come from somewhere. The war had sucked the country dry already, so Zuko had decided to cut into the personal allowances of the noble families significantly, himself included.
“I can’t tax the people any more, they’ve paid too heavily for the war already,” he’d said. “And besides, no one needs to wear silk stockings every day.”
This had not fallen well with the nobles, who still made up the majority of the Council. There had been periods where Zuko had reasonably feared for his life. Their group had formed a silent agreement never to leave him alone. Someone was always with him, and often the whole group still slept together on mats in his office, rows of guards posted outside. She fondly remembered the endless chatter during those sleepovers, the legends and fairytales they’d told each other, the games of Elements and pai sho they had played, although weapons had always been within easy reach. Nothing major had happened, luckily- apart from that one assassin, who had made the mistake to attack during the full moon. After Ozai and Azula had died, the resistance had diminished. Katara bit her lip. Advantageous though it had been, Zuko had been inconsolable. Sokka and Aang hadn’t understood- weren’t his sister and father the very people who had made his life hell? Wasn’t it easier for him now that no one could dispute his right to the throne? But Katara understood that the last chance at a semi-normal family had disappeared. Now he really had no family besides his Uncle left. Toph, who disliked her parents but missed them nonetheless, understood him as well. Nephew and uncle had grown even closer after that. Aang and Zuko received firebending lessons from Iroh almost every day, and the old man was an omnipresent shadow at every official gathering of the young Fire Lord. He was tired of pulling invisible strings though, and slowly handed them over to Zuko. A few months after their victory, they all returned with him to the tea shop in Ba Sing Se to celebrate the end of all troubles.
Katara sighed at the memory of that sunny autumn day, when she had looked out over the green tiled roofs and decided that she would go with Aang instead of returning to the South Pole. She always felt like that was the moment her youth had ended, in a way. It would be more logical to pinpoint the day she left the South Pole as that moment, but it wasn’t. The carelessness and freedom had gone, and she had assumed new responsibilities. Of course she had had responsibilities before, but it felt different. Her father had already warned her that adult life was full of sacrifices, of giving up personal happiness for the greater good. Now she realized how right he had been.
She had reached Zuko’s office and remembered what he had told her at the rocky beach. “Isn’t there fulfillment in helping others, as well? I mean, I get a lot of satisfaction from the knowledge I’m helping my people, even if I’m not always happy myself.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. He felt it too.
She slid open the door and tiptoed inside. Before she had reached the desk, she heard rustling and a faint light in the back of the room grew bigger. She startled, but exhaled when she saw Zuko coming from behind a folding screen, a bright flame in his hand. He had a frown on his face, but it melted away as soon as he saw it was her.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to leave this letter on your desk.” She awkwardly held up the scroll. Then she noticed Zuko’s tousled hair, and the robe he’d quickly thrown on and that was now slipping from his shoulders.
“Were you sleeping?” she asked. The fire in his hand grew a little bigger.
“I usually sleep here. There’s a bed behind there,” he said, gesturing to the screen. “I told you, right?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Katara answered. She remembered now. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
“You didn’t. I was reading a letter from Uncle.”
“Okay.” She suddenly felt very uncomfortable and fumbled with her hair. She stared at Zuko’s bare feet and said: “I wrote that you send your regards to Sokka. Is that alright?”
“Of course. I’d be offended if you didn’t include them.” He showed a satisfied smile. “I’m happy that you wrote to him. I’ll make sure the letter gets posted first thing in the morning.”
“It does feel good. I can’t keep running away,” Katara said. Zuko came closer and checked the direction on the scroll. Katara didn’t move. She felt the warmth coming from the flame in his hand, and studied the way its yellow light lit up his face. His eyes seemed to be glowing when he looked at her.
“I’m proud of you,” he said, and again she noticed the familiar hoarseness in his voice. He was very close. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, with only his half-open chamber robe, a few inches of air, and her thin underdress between them. Her heartbeat suddenly seemed very loud.
She raised her head to meet his eyes. “Thank you,” she breathed. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Katara looked away and stepped back, and the moment was broken. She made a movement as if she wanted to leave, and he grabbed her arm before he could stop himself. She startled.
“Sorry,” he said, quickly letting go of her. “I just wanted to ask…”
She looked at him expectantly. He swallowed.
“That panic attack you had this morning. Do you often have those?”
She shook her head, biting her lip. “Not very often. Only when I’ve been thinking of the past too much.”
“Don’t be ashamed of it,” he said, only causing her to blush more deeply. “I’ve had it too. Many soldiers who returned from the war had similar symptoms.”
She rubbed her neck and avoided his eyes. “You don’t happen to have any valerian root tea? It found that it works very well for me.”
“I do, actually.” He observed her closely. “Did Uncle advise it?”
She looked caught. “…yes.”
“How often did you see him, really, when you were in Ba Sing Se?” He couldn’t help but feel almost jealous.
“I told you Toph is a frequent customer of the tea shop. We went there a few times every week. Every time we went into the city, almost.”
“I see.”
She noticed his look and poked his side. He jolted. “Hey!”
“He would never shut up about you, so you have no reason to be jealous,” she said, grinning. “And now, I won’t disturb you any longer.” She turned around and headed for the door. She looked over her shoulder before she stepped out, her profile contrasting against the white paper of the sliding doors.
“Good night.”
And with those words, she was gone. Zuko shook his head. He let the flame in his hand die out and went back to his bed behind the folding screen. He picked up the letter that was still laying on his sheets, and carefully put it aside. With a sigh he fell back on the bed. Iroh’s letter made a lot more sense now. He knew his uncle had a close relationship with Toph, being a mentor for her just like he’d been for Zuko, but somehow the realization that Katara had a bond with him as well now was a strange sensation. He wondered what they’d talked about. He had advised her valerian root tea, the same tea he had brewed for Zuko when they were at sea just after his banishment, and he’d woken up screaming every night. So Iroh knew about her panic attacks. What else would he know? Her problems with Aang? Anything that Zuko didn’t know? Would they have talked about himself, too? An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. His uncle knew a lot of things about him that Katara didn’t have to know.
He stared at the ceiling and tried to clear his mind. He kept seeing the soft roundness of her cheeks, illuminated by his fire, and the subtle curve of her breasts beneath the thin white fabric of her robe. Her gleaming eyes, her mischievous smile. Her blush.
He grumbled and rolled to his other side, trying to ignore the rising heat in his body.

Chapter Text

The next day was uneventful. On Zuko’s request, Katara helped the Minister of Agriculture compose a letter to Toph’s earthbending school. The letter was finished soon enough, but she found that the man was a pleasant conversationalist and had innovative ideas. After their first meeting he had warmed up to Katara, and now found an eager discussion partner in her. They talked about different methods of fishing and the pros and cons of farmers’ unions, and he ended up explaining the current dynamics in the Council to her. Katara listened eagerly, asked lots of questions, and left for lunch feeling energetic and accomplished.
She found Mai and Hanabi in the small dining room, but no Zuko. Mai noticed her look and explained: “Zuko’s meeting with the envoy of the Earth King is delayed, so he won’t be joining us.”
Katara plopped down and attacked her bowl of rice. All that talking had made her hungry.
“Did you have a nice morning?” she asked Mai. The Fire Lady shrugged. “Nothing special. How about you?”
“Oh, it was great,” Katara said enthusiastically. “I spoke to the Minister of Agriculture and he explained a lot to me, we even discussed the methods of fishing that are used in the South Pole!”
“That’s nice,” Mai said, although she was clearly unimpressed. “I always get distracted by that man’s beard, though. Did you see how umkept it is?”
“I didn’t pay attention to it, actually,” Katara said, shoving some more rice into her mouth. One eyebrow on Mai’s smooth forehead twitched.
“I have some business to discuss with the housekeeper,” she said with a sigh. “Maybe you and Hanabi could bring Zuko his lunch? I’ll send a servant if you don’t want to, of course.”
“Oh no, I’d love to!” Katara said. Hanabi grinned at her. She grabbed a bowl and started scooping rice into it. Mai gestured to a servant, who immediately brought a tray.
“What do you think your daddy likes more, papaya or mango?” Katara asked.
“Mango for sure!” Hanabi said. “He doesn’t like papaya.”
“Excellent taste,” Katara smiled, and placed a mango next to the bowl of rice on the tray. She scanned the table again, looking for something else.
“Take the black bean salad,” Mai said. “He needs more vegetables.”
“Sure,” Katara said. “Oh, and some of this satay!” She grabbed the plate. “I know he loves these. It’s goat, right?” she asked Mai, who nodded.
“You remember that well,” she said. Katara coloured. “He and my brother were always fighting about the best meat,” she explained while she placed a few skewers on a plate. “Goat tastes a bit like reindeer meat so it reminded us of home.”
“I can imagine. Does your brother still have the same appetite?”
“I’m sure he does,” Katara laughed. Mai smiled.
“How old are his children now? His son is a little older than Hanabi, am I right?”
“Yes, Kunik is six this year. Maaya is turning four soon.”
Mai nodded slowly, looking pensively at her daughter. She caught herself, stood up and said: “I have to go now.” After stroking Hanabi’s hair quickly, she graciously left the room, her robes flowing behind her. Katara picked up the tray and looked at Hanabi.
“Can you carry the water jug?” she asked. The girl nodded and picked up the jug, holding it with both hands. Noticing it was too heavy for her, Katara moved a finger and the water gently streamed out of the jug. Hanabi followed its path into the air with wide eyes. Keeping the water floating around them, Katara grinned at Hanabi, who carried the now empty jug with ease out of the room. Katara followed, carefully balancing the tray while keeping up the waterbending.
The little princess ran through the halls and eagerly knocked on the door to Zuko’s office. She didn’t wait for an answer but pushed the door open and strutted inside.
“Hi daddy! We brought you lunch!” she said. Katara quickly followed her into the room. Zuko and the Earth King’s envoy were standing together at Zuko’s desk, and the envoy looked at the Fire Princess with slight bewilderment. Hanabi placed the jug on the table and smiled broadly at them.
“My apologies,” Zuko said to his guest. “Sir Jian, please meet my daughter, Fire Princess Hanabi.”
The envoy smiled and bowed deeply. “Honoured to meet you, Princess Hanabi.”
Hanabi gave him a perfect curtsey in return. Meanwhile Katara had bended the water back into the jug and put the tray down on the desk. She turned to the two men, bowed slightly and said: “Sorry for disturbing you.”
“That’s alright,” Zuko said. “I think we reached a satisfactory conclusion, didn’t we, Sir Jian?”
“Certainly, Your Highness,” the man said. “Although I am happy I stayed long enough to meet your daughter and.. ahh…”
“Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe,” Zuko quickly said, and Katara bowed again. Sir Jian eyes widened and he bowed back deeply, almost as deep as he would have for royalty, and Katara coloured.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Jian,” she said.
“And it’s a great honour to meet a legendary hero like you, Master Katara,” Jian answered. He had a pleasant voice and youthful green eyes, although his hairline was already receding. Katara noticed an old burn wound peeping out from above his collar, and when she looked better, she saw red marks on one of his hands as well. War wounds, undoubtedly.
“You are welcome to join us for lunch,” Zuko said, but Jian shook his head.
“I appreciate it, Your Highness, but my hostess at the inn in the city spoils me so much, I’m sure she’d be disappointed if I missed her homemade meal. I’ll be going there now.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re taken good care of,” Zuko said. He escorted Jian to the door. While Katara helped Hanabi to unload the plates and bowls from the tray, she heard the two men exchange a few formal parting words. Jian asked:
“May I inquire how old the princess is?”
“She just turned five,” Zuko answered, and from the corner of her eye, Katara saw the envoy smile. “She’s precious. My two girls are a bit older. I’ll make sure to bring a present for her on my next visit.”
Then the two man bowed and Jian departed. Zuko walked back to the desk.
“Who was that, daddy?” Hanabi asked.
“A messenger from the Earth King,” Zuko answered.
“He seemed nice,” Katara said. “You two were speaking quite informally. What did you discuss?”
“He’s a very gentle man,” Zuko said. “He’ll be at dinner tonight, so you’ll have a chance to speak with him. He always enjoys stories about our ‘heroic deeds’, as he calls them.” Katara grinned. Zuko continued: “I’ve requested the Earth King for seeds of a type of grain that grows well in hot, dry climates. You probably heard about the problems with the rice from the Minister of Agriculture this morning, right?” Katara nodded. “We want to try if wheat might be a better product to grow, if irrigation turns out to be too complicated.”
“That could be a good idea. But the people here are so used to rice, do you think that would work?”
“They’ll have to eat more noodles, then,” Zuko said. “Or we could trade the wheat for rice. We’ll figure something out. But Jian was very cooperative. He promised that we’ll receive a batch of grain with the next ship from Ba Sing Se.”
“That’s great,” Katara said. They were interrupted by an impatient Hanabi.
“Daddy, your satay will get cold if you keep talking,” she said. Zuko smiled. “You’re right, I’m getting hungry.” He sat down at his desk and took a bite of the goat satay.
“It’s so sweet of you to bring me something,” he said, ruffling Hanabi’s hair. “My favourite, even!” Hanabi smiled broadly.
“I knew you liked goat,” Katara said. Zuko held out a skewer for her while chewing on his own, but she declined. “I already had some. They’re really good, though.”
“You must’ve missed meat at the Air Temple,” Zuko said. “All the Air Acolytes are vegetarian, right?”
“They are,” Katara said. She sat down and pulled Hanabi on her lap to hide her unhappy feelings. “You know Aang never obliged me to stop eating meat, but it was very awkward to be the only one. I often cooked for them, and the looks I would get when I gutted a fish… Like I was comitting a murder. Of course, for them, it really felt like that, but I hated how guilty they made me feel.”
“So what did you do?”
Katara bit her lip. “I had a few fights about it with Aang, actually. He said it would be much easier if I just ate the same as all the others, but I didn’t want that. I’m not an Air Nomad! I’m Water Tribe! I grew up on fish and meat, I wasn’t going to give that up.”
“Of course,” Zuko said.
“I wouldn’t want to give up satay either,” Hanabi said. “Can I have a piece, daddy?”
“Sure,” he said, and handed her a skewer. While Hanabi chewed happily, Katara continued. “It wasn’t just the food. When you live among a group of people for so long, all the little differences start to become really obvious. For example, the non-bending women cover their foreheads out of respect for the benders, just like the non-bending men shave their heads as well. But I didn’t do that, so after a while I was the only woman without head coverings. Some people started to feel offended. Aang even accused me of not respecting his culture one time.”
“Really?” Zuko sounded incredulous.
“Well… we were both very tired and we’d been arguing all evening,” Katara said, looking guilty. “I said he was the one not respecting my culture. I said I might have given up everything else for him, but I would never forget where I came from. It wasn’t pretty.”
“I can’t imagine Aang saying things like that. He is always respectful.”
“I know, and he is, really. Please don’t let my bitterness influence your friendship with him,” Katara said quickly. “I’d never forgive myself.”
“Don’t worry,” Zuko said. “If anyone understands nobody is perfect, it’s me.”
Katara smiled at him.
“I’m writing a letter to him at the moment, actually,” Zuko said, gesturing to his writing set. “I’m asking him to pray the Spirits for Mai’s health. Do you want me to be silent about you?”
“Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you. But… no. You can tell him I’m here. I’m not hiding from him.”
“Okay.”
They both didn’t know what to say after that, so Zuko finished his meal while Katara played with Hanabi. She hopped her knees up and down so the girl was bobbing on her lap. Hanabi giggled and wrapped her arms around Katara, trying to hold on. Katara laughed and started to sing a nursery song: “Hop hop hop, seahorse at a gallop.”
She continued the song while hopping Hanabi at various speeds, then suddenly she exclaimed: “Hole in the ice!” and spread her knees, causing Hanabi to drop a little. The girl shrieked and laughed when Katara hoisted her back up. Zuko laughed too.
“That’s what you sing to entertain children in the Water Tribes?” he asked. “Seahorses and ice holes?”
“My mom used to do this all the time. Sokka even made up a very complicated version, with jumps and lots of shouting and Dad throwing him around.” She smiled, lost in the happy memory.
“My mother always played hide and seek with me and Azula and Lu Ten. I still know all the best hiding spots in the palace.”
“How old were you then?”
“I can’t have been older than seven or eight,” Zuko said. “After that, Lu Ten said he was too old for games and Azula didn’t want to play with me anymore.”
“Can you show me the hiding places, daddy?” Hanabi asked. “I don’t think Nanny knows them and she never likes it when I run away and hide.”
“That’s because Nanny is afraid she can’t find you anymore,” Zuko said. “But I’ll show you tonight, after dinner, okay?”
“When can I join you at the big dinner?” Hanabi asked, jumping from Katara’s lap and climbing onto Zuko’s. “I’m big now, am I not?”
“Yes, you are big, but not big enough. You can join when you’re eight.”
“But why? That’s three more years! I can’t wait that long!”
“It’s the rules, sweetie. And I think you’d be bored.” He wrapped his arm around her. “You’d have to sit up straight and be well-mannered all evening.”
“Well, mommy would love that,” Hanabi muttered, but it was enough to temper her enthusiasm. Katara looked at the two of them and realized that while she expected to feel jealous, instead she felt strangely comfortable. When had she last played games with a child? She remembered the children at the Eastern Air Temple. But there had always been a certain distance between her and the Air Acolytes, a distance that she didn’t feel with the little Fire Princess. Hanabi’s quick trust and her endearing enthusiasm had touched her. She wondered what it would be like if Hanabi had been her own daughter. Maybe she would’ve had blue eyes. Maybe she would’ve been a waterbender. Would she still have had Zuko’s black hair? She felt her breath catch in her throat. The idea of Zuko being the father of her child set her stomach on fire and sent an incredible heat to her face. She glanced at Zuko and swallowed. This was not a wise thought to have.
“Have you finished eating?” she asked superfluously, because all plates were empty now. She grabbed them and hastily put them back on the tray. “I’ll take this back to the kitchen. See you at dinner!”
She hurried out of the room, feeling Zuko and Hanabi’s surprised looks burning in her back.

After practicing her waterbending at the dojo all afternoon in blissful solitude, Katara made her way back to her room to wash herself quickly and get dressed for dinner. Sen did a great job on her hair again, and with a high braided updo and dressed in her long azure robes, she entered the dining hall confidently.
She was early. The chairs at the head of the table were still empty, and only a few nobles had gathered. They were chatting together, and while the noblewomen who recognized Katara nodded to her, they didn’t approach her. Unsure, Katara looked around, but she was saved by a servant.
“Allow me to guide you to your seat, Master Katara,” the young man- barely more than a boy- said. She smiled at him while he pulled her chair back.
“Can I offer you some wine before dinner starts?” he asked.
“Yes please, that would be lovely.”
He quickly brought her a glass. She took a sip, hoping the drink would give her more confidence, and looked around the room. The door opened and Jian, the envoy from the Earth King, entered. He stood out as much as she, his green robes an oddity between the red silks of the Fire Nation nobility. He also looked around a bit hesitantly. The same servant that had guided her came to him and brought him over to the head of the table as well. Jian was given a seat next to Katara. When he, too, was provided with a glass of wine, the servant bowed and left.
Katara smiled at him. “For how long are you in the country?” she asked.
“I’m returning tomorrow,” he said, and smelled his wine. “Ah, lovely aroma. I have to buy a bottle for my wife to bring back to Ba Sing Se, she loves the Fire Nation wine even more than I do.”
“Have you been here often, then?”
“Quite regularly, since I was promoted to envoy a few years back,” he told her, and she heard the pride in his voice. “But this is the first time I’m here alone. It’s just a short mission, after all.”
“You seemed to know Zuko- I mean, the Fire Lord, pretty well?”
“Yes, our contact has always been very pleasant. His Majesty is a generous and kind person, and he made great effort to get to know me when I was installed as envoy. But of course, you must know how kind he is like no one else.”
“He doesn’t make friends that easily,” Katara said. “He must like you.”
“We do have some things in common,” Jian smiled, pushing back his sleeve a little. Katara saw that the red burn marks continued up his arm. “I was a foot soldier in the war under General Fong,” he explained. “My whole arm was burned, up to my neck.”
“It has healed amazingly well,” Katara said and took a closer look, her curiosity greater than her manners. “Normally such a big wound gets infected in no time.”
“That’s what usually happens, yes,” Jian said. “I was lucky, it happened in one of the last battles. After the war I was treated by a lovely woman from the Northern Water Tribes, a healer just like you. Her touch was something magical.”
Katara smiled, imagining a romance between the wounded soldier and his gentle nurse, but was disappointed when he continued his story: “But she was a lot older than you. Reminded me of my mother actually. But she told me fantastic stories about the Water Tribes. The icy palaces and the white mountains of the North, and the endless blue sea… I had never seen the sea, you know.”
“Really? I can’t imagine! Although of course, I had never seen a desert or a big city like Omashu or Ba Sing Se before I left the South Pole either…”
“I grew up in a small village. My parent were devastated when I was drafted for the military, but it was a great chance to travel and I actually liked it, most of the time. Until I got burned of course.”
“How did you end up from foot soldier to becoming an envoy?”
“I’ve been lucky. The healer’s stories inspired me and I wanted to travel more. I managed to be part of the Earth King’s guard when he first came to the Fire Nation. I still remember the first day I came here, after traveling over the sea for days, it was just magical. Apparently I did my job well because I got asked again and again, and I started to be seen as an expert on the Fire Nation. I even married a girl who descended from Fire Nation colonialists! My parents were not too happy at first, but they love her now. And I learned even more about the Fire Nation from her. So step by step, I made my way up until I was where I am now.”
“That’s a very inspiring career,” Katara said. “And all because you wanted to travel!”
He smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling in a pleasant way. “It’s nowhere near as inspiring as your own adventures, Master Katara,” he said. Katara laughed, but before she could answer, the room fell silent and everyone stood up. The Fire Lord had arrived and strode to the table. Katara and Jian stood up as well and bowed. Zuko nodded back and took his seat next to Katara.
“How nice of you to join us, Sir Jian,” he said, and the envoy bowed again before sitting down.
“The pleasure is mine completely, Your Highness,” he said. “I’ve been having a delightful talk with Master Katara.”
Zuko smiled. “I’m happy you two get along.” He moved closer to Katara and brought his mouth very close to her ear. “Mai asks if you can take a look at her after dinner.”
“Of course,” she whispered back, and turned more towards him. She lightly laid her hand on his arm. “I’ll go to her as soon as we’re finished.”
Zuko smiled. After the food was brought he turned his attention to the envoy.
“Sir Jian, you mentioned something about your daughters this afternoon?” he asked.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Jian said. “I have two girls. Mimi is eight and Kwa Mei is ten.”
Katara laughed. “Kwa Mei?”
“Yes, after the legendary beauty from the 8th century.”
“She was a poet, wasn’t she?”
“Yes. Her cycle about unrequited love is still widely popular among school girls in Ba Sing Se.”
“Not just school girls,” Zuko said. “My Uncle has a volume of her tanka’s. He used to quote them all the time when we were in Ba Sing Se.”
“Really?” Katara asked. “That doesn’t surprise me. But, sir Jian, do you know I took that name as a disguise when we tried to get an audience with the Earth King, during the war?”
“I didn’t! How funny.”
“We were all in disguises there,” Zuko said. “That city of secrets…”
Both he and Katara fell silent, lost in memories. Jian looked from one to the other, unsure.
“I understand that you’ve recently been in Ba Sing Se, Master Katara?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Were you on a visit to the Earth King? I didn’t hear about you at court.”
“No, no,” Katara said. “I was there to visit a friend.”
“I already thought it strange that we didn’t hear anything about the Avatar being in town.”
“I wasn’t with the Avatar.” Katara’s voice sounded cold suddenly.
“Oh! I thought…” Jian hesitated.
“I’m no longer the Avatar’s companion,” Katara said with a tired look.
“I’m very sorry,” Jian said. He looked for support to Zuko, who placed a hand on Katara’s back to comfort her.
“Aren’t you being a bit hard on him?” Zuko said softly, leaning in to whisper in Katara’s ear. She inclined her head.
“Sorry. You’re right,” she whispered back, and turned back to the envoy.
“Forgive me, sir Jian, this subject is still a bit painful for me. It’s okay, we didn’t make a big deal about it, so it’s not strange that you didn’t know.””
He shook his head. “I understand, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“Let’s return to more happy subjects,” Katara said, making an effort to smile. “Which poem of Kwa Mei do you like best?”
The conversation turned to poetry and children again, and dinner passed altogether pleasantly.
When the tables had been cleared Zuko stood up, and the nobles prepared to follow him into the other room. Katara tugged at his sleeve.
“I’ll go to Mai now,” she said quietly. He nodded and turned back to his messmate.
“Sir Jian, would you please join us?”
As Katara walked away, Jian joined Zuko and the noblemen on their way to the drawing room. Most of the men sat down together in small groups, some of them lighting pipes, others starting a game of cards or pai sho. Jian had expected more political talk, but although some men seemed to watch Zuko expectantly, the Fire Lord apparently had no mind to talk about political matters right now. He continued his conversation with Jian about his family, inquiring about his wife. They sat on a beautifully decorated, low bench along one of the walls, a little aside from the rest. A few minutes of pleasant politeness passed, but then Jian couldn’t hold back his curiosity anymore.
“Forgive me for asking, Your Highness,” he said tentatively, “it’s only because of the great confidence you’ve honored me with that I dare ask you this…” Zuko raised his eyebrow and looked at him, waiting.
“I understand Master Katara has been a close friend of yours ever since the war, and the way you treat each other clearly shows your mutual respect and understanding…”
Zuko nodded, although he began to look slightly confused.
“Well, what I mean is, I haven’t seen the Lady Mai at all when I was here, and well… If there are any delicate situations that I shouldn’t mention, I would appreciate it if you’d warn me about them.”
Zuko’s eyes widened. He stood up abruptly and said: “Lady Mai is ill. Katara is here to heal her, as my friend, and nothing more. Implying otherwise would be an insult to both her and me!”
Jian quickly stood up as well, bowed deeply and raised his hands in an apologetic gesture.
“I didn’t mean to imply anything, Your Highness! I would never question your honor, upon my word!”
Zuko frowned, and Jian could’ve sworn sparks blew out of his nose as he huffed. A few noblemen stared in their direction, curious to the source of the commotion. Conscious of their inquiring looks, Zuko subdued his temper. He breathed in, and out. His shoulders relaxed and he put his hand on Jian’s arm, turning his back to the room.
“I know that. But please don’t mention anything like this, not to any of the nobles here, nor at the court of the Earth King.”
“I would never, Your Highness. You know the respect I have for you.”
“I know, Jian, and you know my respect for you as well. I like you. But some things are better not mentioned.”
Jian lowered his gaze. “I understand.”
Zuko awkwardly patted his shoulder. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. Come, join me in a game of pai sho, will you?”
Jian nodded, smiling relieved, and they joined a group at one of the low tables.

Chapter Text

Katara softly knocked on Mai’s door. After a few seconds a maid opened it.
“My Lady is asleep,” she whispered. “Can’t you wait for a bit?”
Before Katara could answer, Mai’s drawling voice came from the bed. “I’m awake. Let her in.”
The maid bowed her head and stepped aside to let Katara pass. Katara thanked her and went directly to Mai’s bedside. She put a hand to her forehead.
“You’re a little clammy,” she said. “How do you feel?”
“Miserable,” Mai sighed. “It feels like the walls are closing in on me.”
“I’ll try to do something about it,” Katara said. She turned to the maid. “Do you have any water?”
“I already prepared a bowl, milady,” the maid said, gesturing to the table beside the bed. Katara smiled and thanked her, and bended the water out of the copper bowl. She tried to ignore the curious stare of the maid and brought her water-gloved hands to Mai’s temples.
Mai breathed a sigh of relief at Katara’s cool touch. Katara closed her eyes and concentrated. She visualised Mai’s chi channels, the path of her nerves and her blood vessels. It was hard, she couldn’t wait for the full moon when the details of Mai’s insides would appear clear as day to her. But with the full moon only two days away, a lot of things were already clearer than they had been before.
“I can see some parts of your body are under pressure,” she said. “There are various places where I sense sources of pain. Your chi doesn’t flow optimally, and you are obviously very fatigued again.”
“Yes, I can feel that,” Mai said, and Katara ignored her sarcasm. “But what can you do about it?”
“I’ll ease the pain for now. I’ll be able to see more with the full moon.”
“I’ve never looked forward to a day more,” Mai sighed. As Katara worked her glowing hands over Mai’s body to take away her pain, she smiled.
“Surely there have been days you’ve looked forward to more? How about your wedding day?”
“Ugh,” Mai frowned. “What a hassle was that.”
Katara raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Nothing but a day full of protocols and uncomfortable clothes. Well, at least my parents were finally proud of me.”
“I thought it was a very festive day. You seemed happy.”
“Sure, I was. But it did feel like… I don’t know. Like I was giving in to what was expected of me.”
“How do you mean?”
“I can still remember the words of my mother. She said,” Mai swallowed, “that I had finally proved myself useful to the family.”
Katara paused her work and looked at her. “Really? That must’ve been painful.”
Mai turned her face away. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she said. “I must really be getting weak.” She showed a thin smile.
“I appreciate it,” Katara said. “How is the contact with your family now, then?”
Mai sighed deeply. “Not very good. I think they expected more. My father was very influential, you know. Part of the reason Zuko married me was to please him and the other conservative nobles in the Council.”
Katara nodded and said nothing. Mai continued:
“But I told you, as the Fire Lady I don’t have any real power. Surely my family’s status has risen, and they’re as rich and influential as ever, even though Father’s retired. But I still feel like I disappointed them. Not that Tom-Tom isn’t just as big a disappointment, though,” she laughed bitterly.
“Your little brother? The toddler that got lost in Omashu?”
“He’s not a toddler anymore. He’s an annoying, spoiled teenager now. Does nothing but eat all day, and he can’t even ride a mongoose lizard or a komodo rhino properly. And to think Father expected so much of his only son…”
Katara didn’t know what to say. “It doesn’t sound like a warm home,” she finally said. She’d finished healing and bended the water back into the bowl.
“It’s not,” Mai said, laying down on the pillows again. “Maybe that’s why it’s so hard for me to be a good mother. I never had a good example, I only know how to reprimand and scold.”
Katara smiled at her. “That’s not true. It’s clear you care for Hanabi.”
“To you, maybe,” Mai said sadly. “I just hope it’s clear to her as well.”
Katara hesitated for a moment, but then took Mai’s hand. It was the first time she touched her that wasn’t in a medical sense. Mai seemed to freeze, but didn’t pull back.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Katara said. “Trust your instincts, and you’ll be fine.”
Mai shrugged, but smiled slightly. Her pain had disappeared and she sunk back into the pillows. Katara lightly squeezed her hand, then let go. Mai closed her eyes and seemed to relax. Katara silently walked to the door and left the room to let the Fire Lady sleep.

Katara walked through the dark hallways, greeted a passing guard, and almost bumped into Zuko when she turned a corner.
“I just tucked Hanabi in, and I was on my way to see how you were doing,” he said. “How is Mai?”
“Better. She’s asleep now.”
“Okay.” Zuko kept standing in front of her, obviously unsure of what to do now. Katara felt the fatigue of the healing in her whole body, and a familiar darkness was tugging at the corners of her mind. She fiddled with her hands.
“So… is the offer of valerian tea still standing?”
He looked a little surprised. “Of course. Shall I ask a servant to bring it to your room?”
She shook her head. “I’d rather brew it myself, if that’s okay.”
She’d expected him to look even more surprised, but instead he smiled. “Sure. You still know the way to the kitchens?”
“Vaguely. It’s been a while.”
She followed him through the maze-like corridors. They left the personal quarters and passed another group of guards, who all bowed. Closer to the outside of the palace –closer to the water well, to the farmlands and the market- was the kitchen, with its large wooden table, stone walls, and the big hearth that Katara remembered so well.
Zuko entered first. “Good, there’s no one here.”
“There’s only day staff now?”
“Yeah, most of them go home after dinner.”
“Great. It’ll be just like the old days.”
Zuko chuckled. “I do miss your cooking.”
“Oh, don’t remind me! The fights I’ve had with this furnace…” She walked over to it and patted the metal stove fondly. “It just doesn’t compare to a campfire.” In those months after Sozin’s Comet she had personally prepared anything that went into Zuko’s and Aang’s mouths. The threat of assassination was not taken lightly in that chaotic time, when the peace had been still fragile.
“But you didn’t have a campfire in the Air Temple, did you?” Zuko asked while he rummaged inside a cupboard, looking for the tea.
“True. There were very nice kitchens there. The monks sure loved their food.”
“I haven’t visited in so long. What’s it like now?”
Katara sighed, and Zuko wished he could take back his words. “Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t whine.” She took a kettle from the racks and put it on the stove. She bended water into it, and Zuko only had to snap his fingers to ignite a fire underneath it.
“You know how it is. The air is still pure and crisp and the eternal snow on the mountaintops still shines in the sun. The mountains are still impossibly tall, and the Air Nomads are still vegetarians. Not much changes there.”
“Do you think it’s different now that you’re gone?”
“Honestly?” She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it makes a difference. Most people will actually be relieved. I didn’t really fit in.”
“Surely they’ll miss you.”
“I wasn’t that essential to them. Sure, in the beginning I sort of ran the whole Temple, but other people have taken over. The Nomads have really grown. In the end, I was just… bored. ”
“Really?” Zuko had found the valerian tea and put the little glas jar on the table. It was filled with cold water and contained slices of the medicinal root. He reached into another cupboard to procure two earthen cups and a small teapot. “What did your day look like?”
“Nothing special. Sometimes I went to the market, sometimes I’d do some Avatar-administration… If I was lucky I’d get some waterbending training with Aang. I felt myself getting so sloppy with my bending, I didn’t get any practice at all. In the end, the worst wounds I healed were insect bites, and I mostly used my waterbending for washing the dishes.”
“You’re kidding.”
“What else was there to do? I could practice on my own but that doesn’t compare to sparring. And Aang was always doing other things. More important things, obviously, but still...”
“Couldn’t you practice against the airbenders? Or non-bending warriors?”
She laughed. “You’re forgetting they’re pacifists. None of the non-benders were fighters. They were all housewives or farmers or monks. Nice people, sure. But I didn’t have a lot in common with them.”
“How many Air Nomads are there now, anyway?” Zuko asked while he put the leaves in the pot. “I’m not very up-to-date anymore.”
Katara watched the steaming kettle. “There are groups of about twenty to thirty people living at each Temple, mostly families with little children. Then there are some groups and individuals who are traveling around from temple to temple, I’m not sure how many of those there are now. That’s constantly changing. You might even count the traveling musicians among them. ”
“What about airbenders?”
“Three masters including Aang, and five students. Feng, the girl we discovered first, is living at the Northern Air Temple. She received her tattoos a few years ago. And Bao is still traveling around, though he does drop by the Eastern Temple quite often.”
“He was a strange man, wasn’t he?”
“Very solitary. So used to hiding and fear, he never really became social. But he’s thawed quite a bit in recent years. Aang’s still hoping he’ll start a family someday, but I doubt it.”
“Well, it’s not that crucial anymore, isn’t it? Aang has students enough.”
“Yeah. Five little airbenders…” The kettle had reached the boiling point, but she kept looking at it in silence. Zuko thought he could guess what she was thinking. He walked up to the furnace, took the kettle and poured the hot water over the herbs in the teapot.
“Sorry, I got distracted,” Katara said, taking the kettle from him and putting it back. She waved her finger and the water swirled around in the teapot, steeping the tea more quickly.
“I understand.”
She looked at him from the opposite side of the table. “I know what you must think. How I regret that I didn’t get any little airbenders myself. But that’s not what I was thinking.”
He looked at her inquisitively.
“I talked about this with Toph, actually. How it would have been if I had gotten pregnant. Who can tell what kind of baby it would’ve been?” She looked down at her feet. “It might not’ve been an airbender at all. What would’ve happened if I’d gotten a waterbending child? Or a non-bender? There’s no guarantee. How would Aang have coped with that? He was so convinced that he could revive his people. I mean, we’re lucky that we found other airbenders, but what if the survival of the Air Nomads had completely depended on my kid? Imagine the pressure on the poor child!”
“I see some of that pressure on Hanabi already, but that’s obviously no comparison. You’re right, it’s not a pleasant thought.”
“It’s not hard to imagine Aang’s disappointment. I know he’d love the kid either way, but he’d still be disappointed.”
Zuko nodded slowly. Katara picked up a teacup and held it out to him. “So sometimes I feel lucky that at least I’ve escaped that scenario.” He poured the hot golden liquid into her cup, then served himself. With closed eyes he took a long sip, enjoying the scalding heat.
He looked at Katara again, who was still blowing on her tea.
“I think you’re forgetting one important thing,” he said. “The airbenders may have returned, but you are still the only Southern waterbender. What about an heir for you?”
She didn’t move, but her eyes seemed to shoot fire from above the rim of her teacup. Then she lowered her gaze and slowly shook her head. To his surprise, she smiled.
“I should’ve known,” she softly said, as if to herself. He cocked his head. She looked up again and met his eyes.
“How is it possible, Zuko, that after years of not seeing each other, we spent three days together and you already look right through me again? I should’ve known. You’ve always been the only one to understand me.”
He remained speechless, though he could feel his heart pounding loudly. Katara kept her eyes on his, and he felt as if the wooden table between them had disappeared and there was no more distance between them. Her eyes were a window through which he could see right into her soul, and he knew she could read him just as well.
Katara was the first one to look away. She drank her tea and mumbled: “Why do you have to be like that? It makes me feel so vulnerable.”
“I’ll stop asking questions if you don’t like it.”
“I’m not used to it anymore. But it’s alright. You’re just like your uncle,” she winked. “He kept trying to analyze me, too.”
Zuko shrugged. “I don’t think I resemble Uncle at all,” he said. “But I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“It is,” she smiled. “And to answer your question: yes. I would be really happy if there would be another waterbender born in the South. But we’re not numerous, and there have never been that many benders in our Tribe, so I’m not having high hopes. As for a waterbending baby of my own, well… it’s been years since I last dreamed of that.”
The pain in her voice seemed to hit him in his chest. He put down his tea and walked around the table. He awkwardly stretched out one arm, but she understood the hint and buried her face in his shoulder.
He could feel his shirt getting wet, and felt her lightly shaking. She took a quivering breath and tightly grasped his robes.
“S-sorry,” she hiccuped. He stroked her hair and made a soft shushing noise. “It’s alright.”
“It’s just- I can see it so clearly, a little blue-eyed baby, so clear as if I can almost touch her- I could’ve named her after my mother…” She kept sobbing. Zuko hugged her tightly.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I understand.” He rubbed her back and stroked her hair out of her face, then placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She inhaled deeply and the sobbing diminished. She rubbed her eyes and said, blushing: “Gee, I am crying a lot these days, aren’t I?”
He raised one corner of his mouth. “I don’t know you any differently. Tearbender,” he said. Despite herself, she laughed at his mischievous tone.
“Oh, you jerk!” But she smiled and didn’t let go of his robes, staying in the comfort of his embrace, and rested her cheek against his shoulder. He wondered if she could feel his heart beating itself almost out of his chest. His hand slowly slid down from her upper back to just above her hip, where it stayed. She turned her head slightly, and he looked down. Their foreheads touched.
She realized she was breathing in the same rhythm as he was. She felt warmth rising to her face, and although she wanted nothing more than to stay in his embrace, she reluctantly freed herself.
“Thank you,” she mumbled. “I needed this.”
“I know,” he said, and picked up his teacup again. He drank to hide his embarrassment, and she, too, buried her nose in her cup to avoid looking at him again.
“Don’t think you can escape, though,” she said after she’d finished her cup. “I’ll analyze you too, until all of your secrets come out as well.”
“Please don’t,” he said. “If you try to blackmail me I will have to banish you.”
She laughed. “Oh Zuko, I would never!”
He smiled and poured her another cup. They finished their tea in comfortable silence.

They said good night in front of Katara’s room. She seemed relaxed and drowsy, the tea had been effective.
“Sleep well,” Zuko said softly. The door was almost closed already, and Katara looked back at him through the narrow space that was left. Her eyes gleamed.
“I think I will,” she said. “You, too.”
He smiled and she closed the door completely. Slowly Zuko walked back through the dark corridors of his palace. He passed a serious-looking guard and stopped for a moment by the door to Mai’s bedroom. Their bedroom. They were supposed to sleep there together, but he’d been sleeping in his office for so long now that he couldn’t help but feel like the royal bedroom had become Mai’s territory entirely. Not that it wasn’t unusual- his ancestors used to live in completely different wings altogether- but he had never thought it would happen to him. Katara’s presence had made him realize how lonely he had been. He felt connected for the first time in… he didn’t know how long. The last time he saw his Uncle, probably. He walked on, quietly, to his office.
He sat down on the mat behind the folding screen and lit five candles. He arranged them in a neat line in front of him and stared at the flames through half-closed eyes.
With every inhalation, the flames rose. With every exhalation, they shrunk. He heard his Uncle’s voice in his head, quiet and monotone as it had been during his training at sea:
Inhale fresh energy. Exhale fatigue.
Inhale peace. Exhale all negative emotions.
You do not create the fire, it lives on its own. You only control it. Feel its life, that is your life. You are one with the flame.
Inhale peace. Exhale peace.
Your mind is like a lake without waves.
He was relaxed, but still he couldn’t stop the wandering thoughts invading his mind. He wanted to write to Uncle.
Why did you suggest this? Did you realize what it would cause? Inviting her back into my life- when I thought I had become untouchable. Did you think that too, or do you know me better than I know myself? You do know me better. Was it your intention?
His Uncle knew. Of course he knew.
Destiny is a funny thing, Prince Zuko. Some people believe our lives have been written long before we come to this earth. But that is not true for you! You have the power to shape your own destiny.
Except he didn’t. His life seemed like a bunch of bad decisions strung together. None of his actions had ever played out the way he’d intended.
He breathed out through his nose and the flames sparked. That wasn’t true. His marriage to Mai had reached its goal. Politics were stable. He had an heir. He had a family. He smiled slightly. Hanabi. The happiness she gave him had been the reason he’d believed that he had become untouchable. That he would not doubt or regret again.
What he felt when she was born could only compare to what he had felt when the fireworks burst out over the capital city in celebration of the end of the war, and he had experienced, for the first time, the weight of the heavy crown in his hair. An overwhelming, unbelievable happiness. That is why he had insisted to name her after those fireworks. He hadn’t told anyone, of course. “Flower of fire” was a suitable name for any firebender’s daughter, and especially for the heiress to the Fire throne. Not even Mai knew the true reason, she only knew he really liked fireworks. She hadn’t seen his face when the sky above the Fire Nation had lit up in a hundred colours. She hadn’t seen the tears that streamed down his cheeks as he realized the war was over and his people –his people!- were celebrating his coronation. He had felt loved, truly loved for the first time since his mother had disappeared. Three things had caused that: the words from his uncle in the letter he had just received, the fireworks lit by the citizens, and Katara’s hand on his arm, her gleaming eyes the only witnesses to his tears.
But of course, that couldn’t last. Years later, when he was already married, he had asked his Uncle about happiness.
“You make it seem like there is only one way to be happy, Nephew, when in truth there are many. What does happiness mean to you?”
Zuko had been silent for a while before saying, hesitantly: “A family… friends… a sense of purpose.”
“Then it doesn’t matter whether you are Fire Lord, or a carpenter in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se. You have a wife, a daughter, a job. You have faithful friends. The rest are details.”
“Sometimes I feel like I am cursed to regret every decision I ever make.”
Iroh had shaken his head. “Happiness is not about making the perfect decisions. There is no perfect way to be happy. True happiness can only be found if you allow yourself to be happy. That is what you have to learn.”
Zuko exhaled with closed eyes. He had allowed himself to be happy. And what was the result? His wife had fallen ill and the fabric of their marriage was tearing. Mai was like a flower on a high mountain that he could admire from afar, but never reach. They had found a way to live together as harmoniously as they could, and Hanabi had filled a void in his heart that he had never realized he had. It had worked. He had been happy. But now…
His Uncle must have known. He must have realized what he would cause when he sent Katara to the palace, even when Zuko didn’t.
Inhale peace. Exhale peace. In. Out. The flames obeyed his wishes, but the fire inside him burned wildly, without control.

Katara dreamed. For the first time since she had left the Eastern Air Temple, she dreamed without having a nightmare.
She was in a castle made of snow. Sokka had build it, and he was still building more. He kept adding snow to one of the towers. He looked like he was twelve years old again. Suddenly she heard a noise and turned around, only to see Aang sliding down one of the sloping walls on the back of a penguin. He laughed and waved, and she laughed and waved back.
Two children came running to her, and wrapped their arms around her. A boy and a girl.
“Look what I can do, mommy!” the blue-eyed boy said, and turned a pile of snow into water. He raised a small stream off the ground, but it splashed down again. A few drops hit the girl.
“You splashed me!” she shrieked, and jumped on him. She grabbed a handful of snow and tried to shove it down the neck of his parka, but Katara held her back.
“Don’t fight with your brother, Hanabi,” she said. The girl pouted with remorse.
“Sorry mom,” she said, and turned around to hug her brother. “That’s alright, I’ll get you back,” the boy said while he returned the hug.
“Kya,” she heard behind her. Was that her name? Or was she her daughter, who was now running off and throwing snowballs with her brother? She turned around.
She felt strong arms wrap around her. A warm body, a steady heartbeat. She leaned her cheek against the rough leather of his parka, and the fur of his collar tickled her face. He wore the polar fox furs meant for a Northern chief on his wedding day. She herself wore the heavy furs and beaded robes of a royal bride. The ivory beads of her headpiece dangled on her forehead.
She looked up to kiss her groom. His golden eyes burned into her soul and she felt his warm body against hers. The furs and robes were gone. She raised her hand to cover the scarred side of his face.
Katara shifted in her sleep, blinked, and turned to her other side. She breathed deeply as she drifted off into another dream. When she awoke the next morning, as the sun was already high above the horizon, she remembered nothing of it.

Chapter Text

Two days passed. Mai stayed in bed most of the time, though she asked Katara to heal her before dinner so she could sit, beautiful and proud, with the nobles. She hated to appear weak.
On the evening of the second day, just before sunset, a palanquin was waiting in front of the gate. As the Fire Lord walked out of the gate, the guards and palanquin carriers bowed deeply. The Fire Lady leaned on his arm but held her head high. A few steps behind them, the blue-clad healer followed.
A few guards whispered together: “So that waterbender is healing our Fire Lady?”
“Yeah, the women from the North sometimes have some kind of magical healing power.”
“Wasn’t she from the Southern tribe?”
“They’re all Water folks, does it matter?”
“She’s the one who saved the Fire Lord’s life during the war.”
“And the Avatar’s, too!”
“So that’s the legendary Master Katara?”
“She was the Avatar’s fiancée, but I heard they split up.”
Katara, who walked past them, sent them a look, and they immediately fell silent. As soon as the palanquin had taken off, though, the conversation continued.
Contrarily, the passengers inside the palanquin were silent. Mai rested her head against Zuko’s shoulder, and he supported her. Katara, who was sitting in front of them, felt the full moon pulling at her blood, and was restless. She kept fidgeting with her feet and hands, until she finally excused herself, stood up and jumped out of the palanquin.
As soon as her feet touched the ground she felt better. She kept walking alongside the palanquin, in the same tempo as the carriers. She felt strong and energetic. Soon she smelled the salty air of the seaside. She quickened her step and arrived at the small, secluded beach before the parade of palanquin and guards. She stood still in front of the surf, spread her arms and deeply breathed in the humid air. She could taste the salt on her lips already. The light had not yet gone and the sky was a greyish hue, with the full moon hanging like a great gilded disc above the horizon. Katara could feel its strength fill her up to her fingertips.
She turned around and watched Zuko help Mai out of the palanquin. The guards and carriers went back to wait at a respectful distance.
“Tell me why I have to get into the water, again,” Mai said in a tone that made clear she did not enjoy that prospect. She pulled her robes tight around her and looked at the waves with repulsion.
“The moon and the ocean grant me my greatest power,” Katara said impatiently. She shrugged off her outer robe, let it fall on the sand and beckoned the Fire Lady to come closer. “There’s not a better place for a waterbender to be, right now.”
“I’ll help you,” Zuko said. Mai frowned at him. “I can handle it,” she snapped, took off her outer robe and pushed it into his hands. “You don’t have to hold my hand all the time.”
“I don’t,” he said, a little offended. But he stepped back and let Mai walk into the surf by herself. She seemed as though she regretted refusing his help, because her steps were unstable and she shivered at the touch of the water on her skin. Katara came to her side and guided her in further.
“We won’t go far,” she said. Mai’s jaw was tense. She gave Katara a fierce look that only betrayed how much she wished to hide her fear.
“I hate getting wet,” she mumbled, as she reluctantly waded deeper into the water. Zuko watched from the shore, his hands itching to help, but he didn’t want to risk another reproach from his wife.
“This is far enough,” Katara said. She was standing up until her waist in the water. Her white underdress drifted on the waves like a mermaid’s tail, as did Mai’s red robes.
Mai looked at Katara with an intense expression in her silver eyes. She was even paler in the moonlight.
“Lie back into the water,” Katara said softly. “Let yourself drift.”
Mai leaned back, very reluctantly, a frown etched on her face.
“I hate this. I hope it’s worth it.”
Katara ignored her words and continued in the same soft voice: “I’ll support you. Lean on my hand and lie back. The water will carry you.”
With her waterbending, she created enough lift for the Fire Lady to keep floating. Mai finally let her head fall back, and her black hair fanned out like a halo.
It was getting darker, and from the shore Zuko had trouble seeing the two women in the waves. He created two flames and sent those towards them, and they illuminated the strange scene.
“Don’t be scared if you feel anything unusual,” Katara said, still speaking softly. Her voice barely raised above the crashing of the waves on the shore. “I’ll be bending the water inside your body. It might feel very strange.”
She prayed that Mai wouldn’t be freaked out, and was glad that Zuko had remained out of the water. She’d only discussed the theory of full-moon healing with Yugoda, but never practiced it before.
Mai closed her eyes, though her body was still tense. “This better work,” she said through clenched teeth.
“If this doesn’t, nothing will,” Katara said, not knowing how much hope that would give.
Katara closed her eyes and focussed. She felt filled with the silvery-white energy of the moon, and imagined herself being only a vessel, an intermediate, a way for the Spirits to manifest their power. The water around Mai moved and started to glow. Katara raised her hands, stretched her fingers and pulled.
Mai gasped. Katara immediately released the hold on her blood and supported her as she breathed quickly.
“What was that?” she asked, absolutely terrified. Katara bit her lip. Was this wise? It was the only way to look inside Mai’s body. She had to.
“I’m bending your blood,” she said. “Don’t be scared, please. I’ll be very careful.”
Mai’s eyes were wide with horror. “You waterbenders are crazy.”
“We can stop. I’m sorry if I scared you,” Katara said, but Mai shook her head.
“No. I’m not scared,” she said, determined. “Continue.”
The Fire Lady leaned back into the water again and Katara once again stretched out her hands above her. Very carefully, she let the blood in Mai’s veins slip through her senses. It was like touching an object in the dark, tracing its outlines and trying to guess its shape. She closed her eyes and prayed to the Moon and Ocean Spirits.
Bit by bit, a sort of map of Mai’s insides became clear to her. She could trace every tiny blood vessel, feel every contraction of every muscle and sinew and nerve. She felt her anxiously beating heart and tried very hard not to think of the cruel power she possessed. One little squeeze of her fingers and there would be no more Fire Lady… She furrowed her eyebrows and whispered another prayer to Yue.
Yugoda had known, in theory, about bloodbending. It was something the battle-trained male waterbenders had never thought of, but the healers, they who dealt with blood and the insides of people on a daily basis, had suspected its possibilities. The old woman had nodded with a very serious expression as Katara had told her about her frightening experience.
“The powers that the spirits have gifted us with are neither good nor bad,” she had said. “They just are. It is up to us how to use them.”
Just like Zuko and Aang had discovered that firebending was not only about anger and destruction, but also about warmth and life, Katara had discovered that her own bending could be both good and evil. She thought about Aang and what he had experienced after absorbing Ozai’s energy. The true heart can touch the poison of hatred, without being harmed. Be true, she thought. Be like Aang, pure and untouched.
She moved her hands over Mai’s body. The Fire Lady trembled, but was pliant as a puppet in Katara’s grasp. Katara shifted her focus from the blood to the lymphatic fluid, and her her eyes opened wide in shock.
“Oh!”
She quickly checked the nodes in Mai’s armpits, then continued to the rest of her body. Careful not to become too rough in her excitement, she extended her reach to the fluids in between the organs.
“Oh, Spirits,” she whispered. She checked again. There was no denying it.
She released Mai, who fell slightly deeper into the water and jolted up, splashing. She trembled over her entire body. Katara put her arms around her and created a big wave that brought them to the shore in less than a second. There, Mai stumbled and let herself fall into Zuko’s arms. She buried her face in his neck and held on to him tightly. He embraced her, stroked her back, and gave Katara a burning look.
“What did you do?”
She slowly bended the water off them. “You know what I did.”
He closed his eyes and silently comforted Mai. She quickly came back to herself, straightened her back and said, still holding on to her husband:
“That was one of the scariest things I’ve ever felt.”
“I’m very sorry,” Katara said. “It was scary for me, too. But I won’t have to do it again.”
“Did you… see anything?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered hesitantly. Mai scowled. “You were shocked. I’m not stupid. Tell me.”
Katara bit her lip. She slowly shook her head. “I don’t know how to put it into words… I have to think about it.”
“I need to know, Katara,” Mai said sharply. “I’m not letting you perform your witchcraft on me for nothing!”
Zuko looked from his wife to Katara, who had a pained expression on her face.
“Mai is right,” he said quietly but sternly. “Tell us.”
Katara took a deep breath before burying her face in her hands.
“It’s… bad. Really bad. I’m not sure what it is, because I’ve never seen it before, but I can tell it’s something horrible.”
Mai’s face was white and expressionless.
“What is then? Surely you can heal it, whatever it is!” Zuko said, his voice rising. Katara helplessly let her hands fall down.
“It’s not- it’s really complicated. I have to write to the healers at the North Pole, I think.” She sounded sad and defeated. “Let’s go back to the palace.”
Zuko stepped forward angrily, but Mai placed a hand on his chest. With a tired sigh she said: “I want to go back too. Could you help me get dressed again?”
Zuko scowled for a moment longer, but gave in. He held up Mai’s robe and helped her put her arms through the sleeves. Katara picked up her own dress and tied the sash quickly.
The ride back to the palace was long and silent. Mai was exhausted, Katara disturbed and troubled, and Zuko was too confused and angry to formulate coherent thoughts.
When they stepped out of the palanquin, Zuko supported Mai and said to Katara:
“Use my office and write that letter to the North Pole now. I’ll prepare a messenger hawk.”
Katara nodded solemnly and disappeared into the direction of his office, while Zuko guided a languid Mai through the dark corridors to her bedroom.

Katara wasted no time and pushed the door to Zuko’s office open impatiently. She fumbled with sparkstones for a second before managing to light a candle. She sat down at his desk and grabbed the first blank sheet of paper she saw. She hastily rubbed a black ink stick onto the wet ink stone until she thought she had enough ink, and dipped Zuko’s beautifully carved brush into it. In her hurry she spilled a few large dark drops onto the wooden surface of his desk. She quickly waterbended them back.

Highly respected teacher, dear Yugoda,

I must request your help. You may have heard about the illness of the Fire Lady- her symptoms are fatigue, loss of appetite and general weakness and pain. There was an infection in her lungs, but I’ve cured that. Tonight, during the full moon, I looked inside her body and saw something I’ve never seen before.

She hesitated. She had agreed with Yugoda never to mention bloodbending in case that knowlegde should fall into the wrong hands, but how could she explain what she had felt?

In the lymphatic fluid, lumps of cells were drifting. In and between various organs (most notably lungs, intestines and liver and the breast tissue) these lumps had settled and grown, constricting the flow of chi and suppressing the organs. These lumps were not alien, they were part of the Fire Lady’s own body. It is hard to explain- I will try to draw how it felt.

Awkwardly, she drew a human figure with visible veins and organs, and drew in the lumps where she had felt them.

Please note that there is no infection or poison. The lumps feel as though they are made of her own flesh, and do not respond to healing.
I implore your wisdom, highly respected teacher. I am at loss and without your knowledge, I cannot do any more.
Please send your answer back with this messenger hawk as soon as possible. Spare no costs if you know of any cure, the Fire Lord will cover them.

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, at the Fire Nation Royal Palace.

She wrote the direction to the Northern capital at the top of the paper and rolled it up. She heard the door slide open again and looked up to see Zuko enter. He noticed she had finished her letter and walked over to the desk. From a small lacquered box he took a jade stone and pressed it into the red ink he used for his signature.
“The Imperial Seal,” he said. “This will be taken seriously.”
He applied the seal to the scroll. Two entangled dragons in flaming vermillion joined Katara’s hasty characters.
After sealing the scroll Zuko gestured to Katara to follow him. They went outside, in the direction of the stables. That was where the hawkery was as well. Silently they climbed the steps to the tower that served as the center of the country’s messaging system.
When they arrived at the top of the stairs a servant approached them, carrying a hawk on his arm. Zuko attached the scroll to its leg and held up his arm to take over the bird. He carried it to the window, took off its cap and stretched out his arm. The bird blinked a few times, then spread its wings and flew off into the night.
“It will reach the North Pole by morning,” Zuko said.
“Let’s hope the answer will be here just as quickly,” Katara said gravely. Zuko dismissed the servant and they went back down the stairs.
“Care to tell me what exactly you felt, now?” Zuko asked. Katara’s mouth was a thin line.
“No,” she said.
“Why not?” he frowned, irritated.
“I hardly know it myself,” she said in an equally irritated voice, “let alone how to explain it to you. I want to wait for Yugoda’s answer first.”
He felt his anger peak again. The inner turmoil that had been building up gradually inside him seemed to have reached its breaking point. He grabbed Katara’s shoulder and turned her towards him roughly.
“I will not be kept in the dark!” he growled. “I demand you to tell me what you know!”
She stumbled with her back into the wall. They were still standing on the stairs to the hawkery.
“Let go of me, Zuko,” Katara said in an icy voice. “Don’t make me angry.”
“Or else? What are you going to do, bloodbend me?” His voice cut like a knife. Katara’s eyes shot fire and she slapped his hands away from her shoulders.
“I could,” she hissed. “And you’d be completely helpless. But unlike you,” she said sharply, “I know that violence will not help me in this case.”
He was taken aback by the coldness of her voice, and let go of her. She didn’t hesitate and rushed down the stairs. “Answer me, Katara!” he yelled after her. She didn’t even look back. He watched her disappear, still frowning.

Chapter Text

Mai slowly opened her eyes. Her body seemed to hurt less than it usually did. Still drowsy and content after a good night’s sleep, she tried to remember why she felt better. Had she had a healing session yesterday? Then it hit her. With a sigh, she welcomed reality and said goodbye to the blissfully forgetful world of sleep.
She turned her head and saw Zuko sitting at her bedside. He noticed she was awake and smiled.
“Good morning.”
“What’s so good about it?” she asked sarcastically. With regret she saw the smile drop off his face, and cursed her inability to answer his niceness in an appropriate way. She always put him off- yet he never seemed to let it discourage him from trying again and again. He never gave up, that’s what she liked about him.
“It’s good if you’re feeling better,” he said.
“I am,” she said. She sat upright. “I guess Katara did do something right, yesterday.”
He seemed to cringe at the mention of her name. She raised an eyebrow.
“I got angry at her yesterday,” he admitted. “She knows what’s wrong with you, but she didn’t want to tell me.”
“So you don’t know yet?”
He shook his head. Mai felt pity when she saw his crestfallen face. She moved closer to him and brought her hand to his cheek. He looked at her and she gave him a small smile.
“I know I don’t say it often,” she said softly, “but I really appreciate how much you care for me.”
She kissed him. Kissing had always been an easy solution whenever he wanted to talk about feelings. She enjoyed being intimate with him physically, but not when he wanted to be intimate with her thoughts as well. She liked to keep her thoughts private. By the time they got married he had learned to respect that and didn’t pry for feelings or emotions anymore. Their physical intercourse had become her way of communication. If she couldn’t say it with words, at least through her body she could show that she cared for him as well.
He answered her kiss reluctantly. That was unusual. He was a passionate lover- another thing she liked about him, but never acknowledged out loud.
He pulled back. “What’s wrong?” she asked. He looked almost guilty, she thought.
“Listen, Mai,” he said. “I know you don’t like talking about it, but to me it’s very important.” She furrowed her eyebrows warily. “I just want to know how you feel. That healing session yesterday was… intense. And you’ve been sick for so long now. I want to support you, and I would really like to know how you feel.”
“You know how I feel,” she said. “Miserable.”
He raised his hands apologetically. “I know how your body feels. I know you’re tired and in pain. But what are you feeling? Katara said it was something horrible. Aren’t you upset?”
She lost her patience. “What good would talking do? Can’t we just have sex instead of talking about it, like we always do?”
He looked sad. “That’s the problem, Mai. It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“Well, I like it that way.”
He stood up. “But I don’t! I feel like I’m losing you, Mai, if I ever really had you. How can our relationship work if you never express yourself?”
She pulled her sheets up to her chin. “It seems to have worked fine the past ten years.”
He sighed. “Forget it.”
She frowned. “Why do you want me to express myself so badly? Would you feel better if I admit that I’m absolutely fucking terrified?” she said, loudly, despite herself.
He had already turned his back on her, but looked over his shoulder. Slowly he came back to the bed and climbed on top of it, next to her. He took her in his arms and kissed her again.
“Happy now?” she asked, in between kisses.
“No,” he said, caressing her and pulling away the sheets. “But I’m happy if I understand you better.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she glared, before reaching for the ties of his pants.

Katara was at the dojo. She was restless and frustrated and angry, and paced the reed mats up and down.
She approached one of the guards who was inspecting the spears.
“Sorry?” she asked. “Do you do any battle practice around here?”
The guard looked up from his work and swallowed nervously. “Most of the heavy training is at the military bases, ma’am,” he said. “But we have drills here every day.”
“Do you think I could join those?” Katara asked, trying to sound friendly.
“I’m, err, not sure…” he hesitated. A higher-ranking guard noticed their conversation and walked towards them.
“Can I help you, Master Katara?” he asked. She knew him- he had been captain since the first year of Zuko’s reign. Li, wasn’t it? Of course it was. They were all called Li. She put on her best smile.
“Good morning, Captain Li. I’d like to train my fighting skills again,” she said. “I’ve been getting a little rusty.”
“Of course,” he nodded. “You’re welcome to join our drills if you want. It’ll be interesting for my men to practice against a waterbender.”
The guard next to him began to sweat slightly.
“You are a firebender, aren’t you, Captain?” Katara asked.
“Yes ma’am!”
“And you?” she asked the nervous guard.
“No ma’am! I specialize in the jangchang, the long spear!”
“Excellent. When do we start?”
“As soon as the ninth group is back from their morning rounds, ma’am.”
“Great.” Katara grinned.

Zuko slipped out of Mai’s room, quickly tidying his hair. He sighed. She had tricked him again- distracting him by physical affection, but ignoring the matters of the mind. Their bodies were close and familiar as they had been the last thirteen years, but he felt further away from her than ever.
He felt restless. He doubted what he needed- mediation or training? There was a meeting of the Council tomorrow and he had to be focused. If anything, fresh air first. He walked to the garden.
When he came outside, he heard Hanabi call him. She came running towards her, her nanny behind her.
“Daddy! Daddy, you have to come look!”
He caught her in his arms and hoisted her up. “What’s happening?”
“It’s auntie Katara! She’s in a big fight!”
For one moment, panic struck him. A fight? Katara? But he quickly came to his senses. There was no way Hanabi would laugh so broadly if there was any real danger. He turned to the nanny.
“What’s going on, Doona?”
“Master Katara has joined the daily drill of the guards, Your Highness,” she said. “It has attracted quite a few spectators.”
He followed the noise to the dojo. Hanabi’s face was flushed with excitement. On the training field next to the dojo, a large swirl of water was kept afloat in the air. Three groups of five guards each (their normal formation) approached the waterbender in the middle of the field. One group of firebenders, one with long spears, and one with swords. The long spears approached her first, thinking the distance would grant them safety. They were disappointed to find their spears encased in a thick layer of ice, and when they tried to retreat, their feet as well. The firebenders came at her then, but she drenched them in water, while creating an eight-armed form that took out the swordsmen that came after.
Katara saw Zuko at the edge of the field and looked at him triumphantly.
“I am a little disappointed in the level of your guards, Fire Lord,” she said. He could hear her mocking tone and felt a fire rising in his stomach. He nudged Hanabi back to her nanny and threw off his mantle.
“Looks like I’ll have to have to deal with you myself.”
He spread his legs and with a circular motion created a wall of fire around himself. Katara smirked and looked like she could hardly contain her excitement. With a little movement of her fingers she raised the arms of the octopus-form that was still around her. Arm after arm lashed out at Zuko, but he countered them with blows, keeping his footing wide and stable. Meanwhile the firebending guards had melted the ice and freed their frozen colleagues, and retreated with them to the sidelines of the training field. They watched the fight with bated breath. It wasn’t often they could see their Fire Lord unleash his full power- let alone witness a match between two legends.
Zuko started to move forward slowly, cutting through each watery arm that came at him.
When he had come very close to her, she quickly gathered all the water around her in a big wave and sent it crashing into him.
“I’m still angry at you, you know!”
He shook the water out of his hair and two sharp, blazing flames appeared out of his fists.
“I think I have more reason to be angry with you,” he said, and his face was grim. He launched himself at her and she could barely dodge the edges of his flame-daggers. She hit the back of his head with a water-whip and he was forced in the defense again. They kept lashing out at each other, and the guards watched with some concern the icy shards and the fiery balls that flew off and on across the training field.
Eventually they both sat down on the ground, panting, a few meters from each other. Pushing her wet hair out of her face, Katara looked at him and said with half a smile:
“I guess we needed this.”
Zuko merely grunted and got up to his feet with some difficulty. He held out his hand to a guard, who quickly handed him a towel. While rubbing his hair dry he walked off the field, and did not look back.
When he had disappeared Katara stood up as well. She straightened her clothes and bowed to the guards and Captain Li, then left. Still slightly flabbergasted, the guards resumed their normal routines.

The next morning Katara was woken up by a knock on her door.
“Master Katara? There is a letter for you from the North Pole,” she heard Sen, the chamber maid, say. She jumped out of bed and pushed the door open violently. Sen barely had time to bow before the letter was snatched from her hands.
“Thank you, Sen,” Katara said breathlessly before closing the door again. Sen blinked a few times, but smiled slightly. She’d been right, the letter had looked important.
Katara broke the seal after fondly rubbing her thumb over the symbol of her Tribe, and unrolled the letter. She quickly scanned Yugoda’s neat, small sentences, and her eyes went wide. She held up the letter closer to her face, but that didn’t change the words on the paper. She threw the scroll onto the desk and turned around, pacing the room. She put on her chamber robe and sat down at the desk. Slowly, she carefully re-read the entire letter.
It was very clear. Yugoda’s words left no room for doubt- nor hope.

Zuko, who had been up and dressed since dawn, had been alerted by Sen the chamber maid that Master Katara had received a letter. He quickly strode down the corridor, reminding himself to give the maid a raise. When he reached Katara’s door he knocked, but didn’t receive an answer. After a few seconds, he impatiently pushed open the door. His breath caught when he saw Katara, her hair a mess, cheeks stained with tears, in her half-open chamber robe at the desk. She was clutching a letter with the blue Water Tribe seal. He looked at her speechlessly. Slowly she raised her head and met his gaze, her eyes big and wet and full of grief.
“Is it… as bad as it looks?” he quietly asked. Her face suddenly contorted and she let out an agitated sob. Tears flowed from her eyes when she said in a broken voice:
“Your wife is dying, Zuko.”

Chapter Text

“Dying?” Mai repeated Katara’s last word. The waterbender stood at her bedside, looking down, wringing her hands together. Zuko sat next to his wife on her bed, his face very grim.
“Those lumps that I felt in your body… They can’t be healed. They’re constricting your organs and your chi, and they’re growing,” Katara said. Her voice was soft and small. Mai had never seen her look so defeated. She frowned.
“But- how?” she asked. She felt Katara’s words slowly sinking in, but somehow they didn’t seem to reach her.
“They’re multiplying. Slowly but surely, they’ll cause your organs to stop functioning. There is no way to stop it.”
Zuko hit his fist on his knee. “But how can you be sure?!” he said loudly. “You’ve never seen it before, how can you know it can’t be stopped?”
“Yugoda has seen it before,” she said. “Her letter was very clear.”
Mai stared at her knees beneath the silken bedsheets. “Dying?” she repeated. She blinked. Katara slowly nodded.
Zuko reached up to Mai and wanted to put his arm around her, but she slapped his hand away.
“Go away,” she said, her breathing shallow and quick. Her eyes were wide and unfocused.
“Mai, I…”
“Go away! Leave!” she shouted, pressing her eyes shut to prevent herself from crying. Zuko pulled back his hand and hesitantly stood up from the bed. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, but he knew she wanted nothing more than to be left alone. He clenched his teeth together and turned around to leave the room, pulling Katara along with him.
Mai stared unseeing into the half-dark, shaking over her whole body. When she heard the door close, she allowed her tears to fall.

Zuko stalked the corridors with large steps. Katara almost couldn’t keep up with him. She fought back her sobs and rubbed her eyes feverishly. Suddenly Zuko halted, and punched a wall with all his might. He stared at the smoking splintered wood for a few seconds, then continued punching it.
The noise attracted guards and within moments they were surrounded by soldiers with concerned faces. Katara took a deep breath and turned to them, doing her best to appear composed and in control.
“Please leave us for a moment,” she asked the guards. “One moment. We’ll be fine.”
Looking very suspicious, but having confirmed that their Fire Lord’s life was not in danger, the guards retreated.
Katara put her hand on Zuko’s shoulder. He tried to shake it off, still slamming his fists into the wall until they bled, but she held onto him.
“Your rage won’t change anything,” she quietly said. He stopped punching, resting his bloody knuckles against the ruined wood, and leaned his forehead on the wall.
“This can’t be true, Katara,” he said, his voice thick. “It can’t.”
“I wish it wasn’t,” she whispered, taking his hands into hers and gently healing the bruises. “But Yugoda only confirmed what I suspected. I knew it as soon as I felt it in her blood.”
Zuko closed his eyes and pressed his lips together.
“That’s why you didn’t want to tell me.”
She nodded quietly.
A few tears dripped down Zuko’s nose, before he turned away from her and let out a howling scream. He covered his face with his hands and took a few deep breaths. When he had calmed down a little, he turned back to Katara.
She looked at him, his contorted, grief-stricken, tear-stained face, and she felt as if a heavy weight hit her.
She loved him.
Immediately she tried to push that thought away. She could not deal with it right now- there couldn’t be a more inappropriate time. But it did make her realize that her position here had become untenable.
“I have to leave,” she softly said.
“What?” Zuko asked.
“I have to leave,” she repeated. “Why am I here? To heal Mai. And I can’t- I’ve failed. I shouldn’t stay.”
Zuko’s eyes were wide in disbelief.
“No.”
She shook her head. She felt her heart burning with longing to wrap herself around him and comfort him, but it was not her place. She had to deny her feelings and get away before they became obvious.
“You can’t leave, Katara,” Zuko said, and stepped closer to her. “If I have to lose Mai, I can’t lose you too.” He grabbed her upper arms. “I need you.”
“I have no reason to stay if I can’t help. I would only be a nuisance, an intruder,” she said, but Zuko shook his head determined.
“I forbid it. I mean it,” he said. “Don’t leave me, Katara. I need you, now more than ever. And Mai, she needs you too, even if you can’t heal her. You can’t let her be in pain.”
“You can get another healer to relieve her pain,” Katara said, avoiding his eyes. “It doesn’t have to be me.”
“Yes, it does. There is a reason I asked you,” he said, and he reached up to cup her chin, forcing her to look at him.
“You’re right, there are other healers I could have asked, but there is only one person I know who would never, ever turn her back on the people who need her, and that is you. That is why I asked you, and that is why you can’t leave now. We need you. You can’t give up, that is not who you are. Please stay, even if only for my sake.”
She looked away. He was right. She would never turn her back on those who needed her.
“Alright,” she said quietly. “I’ll stay, for your sake.”
He pulled her into a tight hug, and she allowed herself to lean against him, engulfed in his warmth, and felt overwhelmed with guilt.

Zuko went back to Mai’s room to attempt a first try at comforting her. Katara did not envy that task and went to her own room, to allow them time together. She sat down on her bed with Yugoda’s letter, which she had read ten times already, clutched tightly in her hands.
She stared at her teachers handwriting without seeing the letters. She could dream every sentence, but her thoughts were not with the contents of the letter now.
She loved Zuko. Why, of all possible times, did this have to be the moment she realized that? When had she fallen in love with him? She could not remember a specific moment, or she would have to go back thirteen years in time. Had she always loved him, then? She could not remember. She could not imagine what it felt like not to love him.
She shook her head. This was not a time to be selfish. How could she be thinking of loving him, when his wife was dying? It was outrageous to even think about!
With a heavy sigh she let herself fall down on her back. Staring at the ceiling she recalled everything she knew about healing. What could be done?
Her thoughts went back to the small silver vessel, decorated with a crescent moon, that had enabled her to save Aang’s life. Would water from the Spirit Oasis be able to heal Mai? She shook her head. Yugoda had tried that on the case she had had at the North Pole- an older woman, who had felt lumps in her breasts. But spirit water only healed spiritual wounds. That’s why it wouldn’t have worked on Zuko’s scar, she knew now. That was why Master Pakku had given it to her, because only spirit water could heal the spirit of the Avatar. He had known, and trusted her to save it for the most important object- the Avatar, only hope of the world. And she would gladly have spent it on a banished enemy prince! Had she loved him then, already?
She sighed again and closed her eyes. She murmured a prayer to the Moon Spirit.
“Oh Yue, I am in trouble,” she whispered. She could almost feel her old friend smile at her. The princess would know about forbidden love. Maybe she wasn’t the right spirit to pray to.

Chapter Text

Mai lay in a copper, lion-footed bathtub while Katara moved the glowing water in small waves over her body. She let out a deep sigh, but it wasn’t one of her usual sighs of malcontentment. It was a genuine sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” she murmured so softly that Katara could hardly hear it over the rushing sound of the water.
“Are you feeling better already?” she asked. Mai nodded slightly.
“Yes. The pain is almost gone.”
“Okay, good,” Katara said. She continued her movements. Mai leaned her head back with closed eyes. Her black hair drifted on the water, fanning out around her.
“Do you think we should tell Hanabi?” she asked suddenly. Katara stopped in the middle of her bending stance. Mai’s eyes were still closed, but when she didn’t receive an answer, she opened one eye and peeked at Katara.
“I don’t know,” Katara said. “Why would you ask me?”
“You’re better with children,” Mai said and closed her eyes again. “Don’t stop, please.”
Katara resumed her healing motions and chewed on her lip.
“I’m not so sure if I should advice you,” she said. “I’m usually too overprotective. I don’t think I could tell her.”
“I want to protect her, too.” Mai’s voice was devoid of emotion as usual, but Katara knew better now. No one could’ve predicted she would get to know Zuko’s wife so well, she thought wryly. “But she has to know, the sooner the better. I’m getting worse by the day.”
She raised her arms up from the water and stared at her own pale, almost translucent skin, still covered in faintly glowing healing water.
“I look like a spirit already,” she commented, and waved her thin fingers. Katara made a noise that held the middle between a laugh and a snort of surprise. She felt immensely relieved when Mai smiled too.
“I never knew you could joke,” Katara said. “Let alone at a time like this.”
“And I never knew you could be bitter. Aren’t we all full of surprises?”
Mai sat upright in the bathtub and leaned on its edge, resting her chin on her folded arms.
“Can you feel it now?” she asked. Katara raised a questioning eyebrow. “The cancer. Can you feel it?”
Katara swallowed. “Not really. I feel the places where your organs are compressed and where your chi is blocked, but not in detail. I need bloodbending for that.”
“And you can only do that with the full moon.”
Katara nodded.
“What a fascinating ability…” Mai mused. “To be able to control people like puppets… I was completely helpless in your grasp.”
“It’s dangerous and I hate it,” Katara said sharply. Mai raised the corner of her mouth knowingly.
“It’s pure power. Imagine if Azula had possessed it.”
“I’d rather not,” Katara cut her off. “Why are you talking about that?”
Mai stared at the wall of the royal spa. “Nowadays she seems… closer.”
Katara cast her a concerned look. Before she could say anything, Mai looked up to her rather abruptly.
“Is Ty Lee coming soon?”
“The zeppelin should be arriving tomorrow,” Katara said. “But it’s a long way from Kyoshi Island.”
Mai was silent. Katara rounded off her healing and helped the Fire Lady out off the bath. Two maids immediately were at her side and dried her off carefully. They helped her into a silk robe. Mai dismissed Katara with a small, grateful nod of her head. She sat down at the elegant dressing table to let the maids comb her hair, and Katara left the spa.
She crossed the halls slowly. Mai was doing much, much worse. The only thing she could do now was relieve her pain. Although she hid it under sarcasm and morbid fascination with her own demise, Katara knew Mai was despairing. She couldn’t feel what Katara felt- her organs slowly faltering, her already low energy plummeting- but she did feel that her body had betrayed her. Although she was hesitant to tell her, Katara knew she had only a few weeks left at most. She was sure Mai knew that, too, even if only subconsciously. Zuko suspected it, and the only one left in blissful ignorance was Hanabi.
Katara tried to remember the time when she was eight and she lost her mother. The memory was as vivid and painful as ever. Hanabi was only five. How much of it would she understand? She had never had to deal with the concept of death before. Her oldest relative was Iroh, and he was still in perfect health. If international politics stayed as they were, she would never know the terrors of war. At eight, Katara had seen the gruesome wounds of the warriors, and she had known people who never returned from the battlefield. She had helped to gut seals and twisted the necks of snow-hens herself. She had been aware of the cruelties of life and death. Finding her mother’s smoking corpse had scarred her unto her bones nonetheless. How would Hanabi, sheltered and unused to pain or sadness, take her mother’s inevitable death?
She was sure Zuko had given this a lot of thought as well. She knew how deep his own mother’s disappearance had hurt him, how it had shaped him. It was a major- if not the first- pillar of their friendship. She hadn’t spoken to him much. They both spent a lot of time with Mai, but not often at the same time. He was always either with Hanabi, or at work. But she thought about him all the time.
She reached the nursery and heard his voice from inside. She slid open the door and peeked inside. Zuko lay on the ground on his stomach, in front of a colourful array of playthings. Hanabi sat behind a pile of books and boxes with a plush dragon balanced on top.
“You’ll never take my castle!” she exclaimed triumphantly.
“Advance, soldiers,” Zuko commanded, and pushed the little tin figures forwards. He looked up when he saw Katara enter. “I see we’ve got reinforcements.”
Katara couldn’t help but smile broadly.
“I’ve come to your aid as you requested, Fire Lord,” she said, kneeling down beside him. “How may I be of service?”
“The evil Purple Dragon has taken the castle and imprisoned the queen,” Zuko said. “We must conquer it and save her.”
“I will send my waterbenders around the back to make a surprise attack.”
Katara let her fingers walk around the pile of books and lightly slapped the tail of the plush dragon.
“Who dares to attack me?” Hanabi yelled, and turned the dragon around. “I’ll roast you! Raaawr!” While she pretended to spew fire at Katara, Zuko manoeuvred his tin soldiers onto the books and pricked their little swords into the plushie.
“Now my soldiers will take you down!”
“Oh no!” Hanabi said dramatically. She grabbed the dragon and fell back on the floor with a grand gesture. “I am slain!”
Katara watched Hanabi roll around the floor with her plushie with a soft expression, but then turned to Zuko.
“We need to talk,” she said quietly. He nodded, helped her up and they went to the other side of the room.
“Mai says it’s time we tell her,” Katara said, and she noticed how all the happiness immediately drained from his face. It hurt her. She resisted the urge to kiss him, and instead lightly pressed his hand. “I agree with her. I don’t think we have that much time left. It’s better if she can get used to the idea first.”
Zuko pressed his lips together.
“I can’t tell her, Katara. Not alone. Help me with this, please.”
“I’m with you always,” she said, and his eyes met hers. They were full of emotion. How much of her feelings had she already betrayed?
“Thank you,” he whispered. They turned back to Hanabi.
“Sweetie, there’s something we need to tell you about,” Zuko began. Katara heard how constricted his voice was. Hanabi put her plushie down and looked at her father with big, serious eyes. He sat down and pulled her on his lap.
“You know that mommy has been ill for a long time already, right?”
Hanabi nodded.
“Auntie Katara is trying to heal her, but…” his voice faltered. Katara sat down next to them and took over. “She won’t get better.”
“Never?”
“No, never,” Katara said, and closed her eyes. Like ripping off a bandage, she thought. The quicker the better.
“Does that mean you’ll stay here forever? So we can play every day?” Hanabi asked, stretching out her arms to Katara and laughing. Katara swallowed.
“No, sweetie,” she said. “It means…” she looked at Zuko, who answered her gaze helplessly. Katara picked up the plush purple dragon and the doll that represented the queen.
“Look here,” she said. “What would have happened if we hadn’t saved the castle and rescued the queen?”
Hanabi grabbed the plushie. “The dragon would’ve eaten her!”
Katara nodded. “That’s what’s happening to your mommy. The illness is like a dragon, and it’s eating her.”
“Then why don’t you send soldiers to fight against the dragon?”
Zuko shook his head. “This isn’t a dragon that soldiers can beat,” he said. “The dragon is inside of her.”
Hanabi looked very confused. “But what happens when he eats her, then?”
Zuko swallowed. “She’ll… Her body will stop working. She’ll fall asleep, but she won’t wake up anymore. Her spirit will be gone away. And she can’t come back.”
“Where will she go?”
“To the Spirit World,” Katara said, and took Hanabi’s hands. “That’s a beautiful place, but normal people like us can’t go there.”
“And she’ll never come back?”
“No.”
A second passed, in which both Zuko and Katara held their breaths. Then Hanabi pressed her eyes shut, threw her plushie on the ground and started to cry.
“I want to go to mommy!” she wailed. “Mommy can’t go away! Where is my mommy?!”
Zuko hastily picked her up and carried her, still crying and struggling, out of the room. Katara followed, making shushing noises and trying to calm the girl by stroking her hair, only to get her hands slapped away. She locked eyes with Zuko, who grimaced.
“Well, that worked wonderfully,” he said. “Where’s Mai?”
“I think she’s still in the spa,” Katara said. They quickly went there.
“Mommy-y-y-y!” Hanabi cried. Zuko pushed the door to the spa open with his foot and carried Hanabi inside. Mai, still sitting at the dressing table surrounded by maids, looked up in surprise.
Hanabi struggled loose from Zuko’s arms, reached out her hands and threw herself on her mother.
“You can’t go away mommy, don’t go, don’t leave me!” she cried, and buried her face in her lap. Mai instinctively put her arms around the weeping girl. She raised an eyebrow at Zuko and Katara, who stood awkwardly by the door.
“You told her.” It wasn’t a question. They both nodded, a guilty look on their faces. Mai sighed, and hugged her daughter on her lap.
“Shh, sweetie,” she said. “I’m not gone yet.”
Hanabi kept crying. Mai stroked her hair and rocked her, but she seemed inconsolable. Mai winced.
“I can’t keep her like this,” she quietly said. “I’m too weak.”
Katara hastily approached her and Mai carefully removed Hanabi’s hands from around her neck.
“It’s alright sweetie, your auntie will take care of you. I’m still here.”
Hanabi sniffed and wiped her eyes, allowing Katara to carry her. While Katara soothed the still sobbing Hanabi, Mai looked at Zuko.
“I’ve decided something,” she said. “Once Ty Lee arrives, I want to go to my parents’ estate in the south to tell them. They need to hear it first-hand.”
Zuko nodded. “Do you want to travel by zeppelin? That’s the most comfortable way. We can take the one that Ty Lee will arrive with.”
“Yes. But I don’t want you to come.”
He looked more surprised than hurt- but hurt nonetheless. She explained: “I don’t want to go there as the Fire Lady. I want to go as myself. My parents have only ever seen me as something they wanted me to be, never as just myself. Now, if it’s the last time, maybe they finally will.”
“And you want to take Ty Lee with you?”
“And Hanabi. And Katara.”
Katara looked up in surprise. “Me?”
“Don’t get excited, I’m not taking you to introduce you to my parents. I need a healer or I’ll be in constant pain. And I want you to take care of Hanabi. I’m not strong enough, and I trust you with her.”
Katara opened her mouth, wanting to protest, say something about nannies, but Mai raised her hand and cut her off.
“I’m sorry, but this isn’t a request. It’s an order. I am still Fire Lady, you know.”
Katara bowed, with Hanabi still in her arms.
“Very well. As you wish, Your Highness,” she said, but her sarcasm was ignored. Zuko frowned.
“And you’d leave me here all alone?”
“Surely you’ll have work enough to keep you occupied,” she said languidly. “Now please, let me rest. Notify me when Ty Lee arrives.”
She ushered them out of the door with a wave of her hand.

Katara still carried Hanabi, who, exhausted from crying, had fallen asleep with her head on Katara’s shoulder. Zuko sighed.
“What am I supposed to do when all of you will be gone? Ty Lee hasn’t even arrived yet and it’s already decided that she’ll leave again as soon as she gets here.”
“How far is the estate?”
“It’s in the south of the Fire Nation. If you take the zeppelin you’ll be there in half a day, with some traveling by palanquin for the last bit.”
“I really don’t get why she wants me to come.”
Zuko looked at her sideways. “I do get it,” he said, with a meaningful look to the now peacefully sleeping Hanabi in her arms. Katara shrugged. “She could take Doona the nanny to take care of Hanabi. She just wants me as a healer.”
“No, not just that. She trusts you, Katara.”
She took a deep breath. If Mai knew the extent of her feelings, surely she wouldn’t trust her so much anymore. Being this close to Zuko made her both incredibly happy and unhappy at the same time. She wasn’t sure how long she would be able to bear it. But, as Zuko had told her, and as she often told herself, there was happiness in helping others even if you couldn’t be happy yourself. She had promised to stay for his sake, so she would. She would devote herself to Mai, Zuko and Hanabi like she had devoted herself to Aang and the Air Acolytes. Apparently this was the way she was supposed to lead her life- forever in the service of others.
“I’ll put Hanabi in bed,” she said, suddenly resolute. “You should go back to your office. Don’t you have a Council meeting to prepare?”
He nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Katara quickly walked away, rocking Hanabi, and blinking away her tears.

Chapter Text

The dinner that evening was especially awkward. Mai was tired and irritable, Zuko avoided conversation and Katara was lost in her own thoughts. Luckily there were musicians to distract them. Although she fondly remembered how wildly she had danced to Fire Nation music in the past, tonight it couldn’t please Katara. She watched the dancers clad in their red and gold saris with wistful eyes. To imagine that just two weeks ago, she herself had danced to the music of the nomads, lighthearted and happy… She felt anything but lighthearted and happy at the moment. No, she felt heavy with guilt, heartache and a sense of failure. She pushed her noodles around in her bowl, and couldn’t finish her meal.
After Zuko left the room with the nobles, Mai asked Katara to bring her to bed. She didn’t even bother to greet the court ladies. Again Katara felt their jealous gazes in her back, but she shrugged it off. She had other things to worry about now.
She relieved Mai’s pain and left her soundly sleeping. Back in her own room, she was restless. It wasn’t very late yet, but she had nothing to do. Nothing to read, no letters to write. She wondered when she would hear back from Sokka. Her letter should’ve reached the South Pole a few days ago. Her stomach twisted at the thought of him reading her words, after not hearing from her for a year. She wouldn’t blame him if he was angry. Maybe he wouldn’t write back at all- she’d deserve it.
She shook her head, trying to get rid of the upcoming headache. Maybe she needed some valerian tea again? Her golden hairpins were heavy. She pulled them out and let her brown waves cascade down her back. She thought back on Hanabi, and how she had cried her heart out on her shoulder. Comforting her had been the most natural thing. How would she be doing now? Suddenly she felt bad for the little girl, sleeping all alone in her nursery. When she had been five, she’d never slept alone. She closed her eyes and could almost smell the furs in their tent, and feel her mother’s warmth. She remembered kicking Sokka’s cold feet away, and always wanting to claim that special spot inside the curve of her mother’s body.
She stood up and left her room. Very silently she approached the nursery and slid open the door. She heard Hanabi breathing deeply and regularly. She tiptoed to her bedside and knelt down.
In the half-dark, she watched the girl’s peaceful face. There were no more traces of tears visible on her soft chubby cheeks, but Katara could still remember how desperately she had cried. She looked down on Hanabi’s sleeping form and felt her heart swell. She knew, instinctively, that she wanted nothing more than to protect this child. It reminded her of her fierce protectiveness of Aang, back when Zuko…
Speak of the devil, she thought, because the sliding door opened with a light squeak and the Fire Lord entered his daughter’s room. He was walking soundlessly, too, and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Katara.
He knelt down next to her at Hanabi’s bedside.
“I wanted to check on her,” he explained superfluously, whispering. “You too?”
“I didn’t want to let her sleep alone,” she said sheepishly. He must think her silly, clinging to her Water Tribe custom of sleeping with the whole family together. But instead he smiled.
“Do you remember how we slept in my office just after the war? With the whole group?” he asked.
“One big mess of limbs,” Katara laughed silently. “Or in our little camp under the stars, when we were on the road, and we’d tell each other stories…”
His eyes lit up. “I do miss it,” he confessed. “Despite everything.”
“Me too…” She sighed wistfully, but a smile had nestled itself around her lips and wouldn’t leave. She eyed Zuko sideways as he tucked the edges of Hanabi’s blanket in more neatly, and wished she could stay in the palace forever. She shook her head. No. Those were silly thoughts. This could only last until Mai would blow out her last breath. What would they do after that? What would become of the delicate balance and tension between her and Zuko? She felt like he already blamed her because she couldn’t save Mai. That would only get worse. Better to grab the walrus by the tusks, she reprimanded herself, and asked:
“Zuko?”
“Yes?”
“Do you blame me for not being able to heal Mai?”
With a very serious expression he turned and looked at her directly. He checked if Hanabi was still sound asleep and said quietly:
“Katara, I’ve never known a person more devoted to helping others than you. Not even Aang. I know you’re doing everything you can, and I’m immensely grateful.”
She had not expected such a well-worded answer. She coloured and looked away. “I’m trying. I’m only doing my duty.”
Her earnestness touched him. It wasn’t like her to be in such a heavy mood, even if the situation was as serious as it was now. He wanted her to lighten up, so he teased: “Of course you are. You’re happy to serve the Fire Lord, aren’t you? Like a good, loyal citizen.”
It worked. She smiled. “Fiiiire Looord,” she softly sang, “my heart burns for thee!”
He scooted closer to her. Too late she remembered the text should’ve been ‘flame’ instead of ‘heart’, and felt like she had betrayed herself.
“I know,” he said, very softly. “And you know, surely you must know, how I feel.”
She held her breath. “Zuko…” He placed his hand on her arm. “You know how much I care for you,” he said, and she could only look at him, breathlessly. He swallowed. “And how much I… appreciate… our friendship.”
She let her breath escape, unsure whether she was relieved or disappointed.
“And what you have done for me. For us,” he continued. “I’ll never forget it.”
She looked at him, smiling in what she assumed was a friendly way. “I only wish I could do more,” she said, and hoped he would catch the double meaning.
“You are already doing more than enough,” he said, struggling a little with the words. Yes, he had caught the double meaning. She inwardly slapped herself. What was she doing now? Playing with words and trying to fish for hidden meanings, with a man whose wife was dying?! While they watched over his sleeping daughter, nonetheless! And yet she felt so at home between him and Hanabi, like she truly belonged with them. She tried to imagine what it would’ve been like if they had lived in the Water Tribe. A simple life, no war, no royalty, just a normal family. She would’ve slept between thick furs, curled around her daughter, shielding her against the cold. And wrapped around herself would be Zuko’s arms, his stomach against her back, his warm breath in her neck. The thought ignited a fire inside her. Zuko saw how her eyes began to gleam, and suddenly thought the room had become very hot. His emotions had not been shaken up so drastically in years as they had in the past weeks, and he felt like a ship caught in a storm on the open sea, rocked to and fro by the waves. He felt a hundred things at the same time. And yet, and yet, when he looked at Katara he felt only one thing. He scooted even closer.
“Katara,” he said, very quietly, and reached up to her face. He brushed her loose, long hair away and tucked it behind her ear. He could see the blood rising underneath her tan skin, a deep pink glow spreading across her cheeks, and her lips parted slightly when he leaned towards her.
“Zuko…” she whispered, and he could read her whole heart in her eyes. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, he was sure of it. Then her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret.”
“I’ve already made so many mistakes in my life, one more can’t do much damage,” he said, and pressed his lips to hers. She was as soft and sweet as he remembered. For a second she answered his kiss, almost desperately. Her lips moved against his, warm and moist, and he felt her eyelashes flutter against his cheekbone. But then she froze.
“No, Zuko,” she said, and pushed him away. “I don’t want to be a mistake. This is not how it’s supposed to be.”
“It’s not- I don’t- you’re not- ,” he stuttered, before lowering his head. “You’re right,” he sighed deeply. “This is not how it was supposed to be.” He could punch himself and his recklessness. Instead he grabbed her hands and looked at her again. “But this had to happen eventually. I can’t deny it, and I know- I’m sure that you feel the same.”
She bit her lip and he wanted to kiss her again, but restrained himself. “I do, Zuko, but…”
“I know. Of course I know. We can’t.”
She turned her face away and started to cry quietly. He pulled her closer, wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her head against his chest. He carefully wiped her tears away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t mention it again.”
She buried her face in the fabric of his robe. Between her sobs, she said: “Why does it have to be like this?” Her voice sounded muffled. She pushed his arm away and raised her tear-stained face to him. She looked like she was going to say something, but when she opened her mouth, it was to kiss him again. They were connected for a heartbeat, then she jumped up and left the room, a flurry of loose white robes and long brown hair.
Zuko still sat on his knees, next to the bed. He stared at Hanabi’s sleeping face, an innocent witness of his weakness. Then he buried his face in his hands and cringed until his forehead almost hit the floor.
“Why do I make such a mess of everything?!”

----

Slowly the red zeppelin lowered itself to the ground. It was windless and warm, perfect weather to fly. Surrounded by guards, four people stood waiting for the passenger. Mai leaned on Zuko for support, and Hanabi had her arms wrapped around her mother’s legs. Katara stood slightly away from them. The gangway lowered and Ty Lee came running down, her braid bouncing behind her, and she flung herself in Mai’s arms.
“Mai!”
Mai released Zuko’s arm and hugged Ty Lee tightly. Hanabi had to let go of her mother, and Katara quickly took her hand. She looked at the two women sideways. Mai had become much better at expressing emotion, even if she didn’t know it herself. Her illness had softened her.
“I’m happy you’re here,” the Fire Lady murmured. Ty Lee looked at her with tear-filled eyes.
“Why didn’t you let me know sooner?”
“We didn’t yet realize how serious it was,” Mai said. “But Katara found out.” She gestured to the healer and Ty Lee bowed to her. Katara bowed back. Then Ty Lee made a deep reverence to Zuko, her hands pressed to her chest.
“Fire Lord Zuko,” she said gravely. He laughed uncomfortably. “Please, Ty Lee, you’re making me shy.” She smiled at him.
“Welcome to the palace,” he continued. “I’m afraid you won’t see much of it for now, though.”
“I’m going to my parents, and I’d like you to come with me,” Mai took over. Ty Lee nodded. “Of course. When are you leaving?”
“As soon as the zeppelin is refueled. Your luggage is still on board, I guess?”
“Yes. So we’re going together?” Ty Lee asked.
“I’m coming too,” Katara said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not! But why? Do you know Mai’s parents?”
“I know Lord Ukano from the Council, and I met her brother once in Omashu, thirteen years ago,” Katara smiled. “I’m sure you remember that day too. But no, I’m coming as Mai’s healer, and to take care of Hanabi.”
“I see.” Ty Lee cast a long look at Katara. Her aura had some unusual colours. It had not often been this tumultuous, and she seemed to experience strong emotions. She saw her glance at Zuko, who avoided her gaze. Zuko’s aura, too, was coloured intensely. She bit her lip and turned her attention back to Mai.
Servants carried Mai’s bags on board of the zeppelin while others reloaded its fuel. Mai kissed Zuko goodbye, and Hanabi hugged her father.
“Bye daddy, see you soon,” she said.
“See you soon,” Zuko said, hunched on his knees to be at her height. He ruffled her hair. “Be nice to mommy and to your aunties, okay?”
“I’m always nice!” Hanabi protested. Katara laughed and pulled her away from her father.
“Come Hanabi, we’re going on board,” she said. She looked awkwardly at Zuko.
“Uhm. See you soon?”
“Yeah… bye,” he said, and raised his hand. Ty Lee watched them from the gangway, while Mai was talking to her with her back turned to them. Those two were so bad at hiding their feelings, she thought. It was obvious they had been intimate. She wondered how long it had been going on. Not very long, as apparently Mai didn’t seem to know it. Or maybe she just didn’t mind? It wasn’t her business, Ty Lee decided, and kept an innocent smile on her face.
When they had taken off, Hanabi was beyond herself from excitement. She loved flying. It distracted her from her worries about her mother, and Mai was relieved to be rid of her constant clinging for a while. Hanabi pressed her nose to the window and pointed out the various landmarks below them.
“Look, auntie, those are the Great Gates of Avatar Roku! And there, look at those tiny ships!”
Katara sat next to her and shared her excitement, though she hid it a little better. She also had different emotions to distract her, but didn’t want to dwell on those.
“Yes, it’s really pretty. We’re lucky it’s such a clear day.” she said. “Look, there’s an Earth Kingdom ship, do recognize the flag?” She continued chatting with the girl, while Mai and Ty Lee sat together in another corner of the vessel.
“I’m happy she’s here,” Mai said, gesturing to Katara. “I could never take care of Hanabi on my own in this state.”
“I can imagine,” Ty Lee said. “You seem very weak.”
“I am. If it wasn’t for Katara’s healing, I’d be in constant pain.”
“It’s a good thing she’s here, then.”
Mai nodded. Ty Lee carefully asked: “I imagine it’s a relief for Zuko as well, to have a friend who can support him in these difficult times.”
Mai looked at her a little surprised. Then she shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. It must be hard for him, too.”
Ty Lee took both Mai’s hands and looked at her earnestly. “But Mai, tell me now, is it true? Are you really… is it really fatal?”
Mai sighed. “Yes,” she said sadly. Ty Lee’s lip started to quiver. “I can feel it. I don’t have much time left.”
“Oh, Mai!” Ty Lee sobbed, and threw her arms around her friend. “How is this possible? It’s so unfair!”
Mai patted the back of Ty Lee’s head while she stared in the distance. “Nothing in life is fair, Ty-Ty.”
Ty Lee pulled back, rubbed her nose and sniffed. “Don’t use that name for me now, please,” she said. “You know I don’t like it.”
“Azula used to call you that,” Mai remarked. Ty Lee shuddered.
“I still have nightmares about her.”
“Can I tell you something strange?” Mai said, lowering her voice. “Sometimes I feel like she’s here. I can feel her presence. As if she’s just around the corner.”
Ty Lee looked at her with big eyes. “Do you think you’re hallucinating from your illness?”
“No, it’s not a hallucination. Just a feeling. I think maybe it’s because I’m… you know, getting closer. That I’m already with one foot in the Spirit World.”
“Don’t say that,” Ty Lee said, her eyebrows twisted. “You’re not gone yet!”
“But I will be soon.”
“Are you scared?”
Mai looked at the ground. Her voice was small when she said: “Yes.”
Ty Lee scooted closer to her friend and wrapped her arm around her. Mai stiffened initially, but leaned into her after a second. “What of?”
“I’ve not exactly been a good person, Ty Lee. I’m not like you. I’ve been selfish and mean and… I’m scared about what my judgment will be.”
“Do you believe in that, then?”
She sighed. “I don’t know what I believe anymore. All I know is that I’m scared. It’s strange, I’ve never been scared in my life.”
Ty Lee squeezed her hand. “You stood up to Azula so bravely, and you’ve always held your head high since then. I’m sure you’ll be just as brave when you face whatever it is you’ll meet in the Spirit World.”
Mai gave her a small smile, her eyes suspiciously moist. “Thank you, Ty.”

Chapter Text

The zeppelin landed and the four of them transferred to a palanquin. The rhythmic swaying soon made Hanabi fall asleep, her head in Mai’s lap, and the three adult women made some quiet small talk. Katara peeked through the curtains, out of the palanquin, and took in the scenery. It was unbelievably green and lush, and the heat was even heavier than it had been in the Capital. Colourful fruit seemed to grow on every tree, and thick leaves stretched out as fingers up to the sky. On the hillsides she saw rice paddies, like green tiles on sloping roofs, glittering in the sunlight. What a contrast to the dry midlands, she thought. This was a very fertile region, no wonder Mai’s family was so rich. She spent her time calculating the annual rice production of the fields they passed, until they arrived at the estate.
A row of servants stood outside the gate and bowed deeply to Mai. Two men immediately came to carry their luggage. For the first time Katara felt like she was really part of the Fire Lady’s entourage, part of the long colonne of palanquin bearers, maids and servants that accompanied her, and it impressed her. She observed how Mai kept her back straight and her face expressionless while three people emerged from the front gate. Katara recognized the former Council member Ukano. He’d grown old and gray, but his face was still as stern as it used to be. Next to him his wife, whom Katara had never gotten to know well. Half behind her hid a young teenaged boy with a round, soft face and thick black hair in a bowl-cut. His cheeks were red and he seemed rather shy.
Technically Mai was the highest-ranking person in their company, but Fire Nation etiquette demanded high respect for parents, even from royalty, so Katara wasn’t sure how the greeting was supposed to go. She and Ty Lee bowed, but Mai walked straight to her parents. Hanabi still clung to her skirts and followed her closely. Mai bowed to her father, but her mother engulfed her in a hug, which she endured. Tom-Tom didn’t seem to know how to greet his older sister, but Hanabi looked at him curiously and waved. He gave a timid wave back.
Mai stepped back to let Ty Lee and Katara greet their hosts.
“Lord Ukano,” Katara bowed.
“Master Katara,” he nodded back to her. “What an honour.”
“My mother, Lady Michi,” Mai introduced. Katara bowed, but the woman extended her arms and grabbed her hands.
“Welcome to our estate. We are so happy to have you.” She looked sideways to her son. “Come Tom-Tom, say hello.”
The boy, who was short and plump for his age, raised his round eyes to Katara and turned even redder.
“Hello,” he said in a small voice, and bowed. Katara gave him a broad smile and returned his bow.
Ty Lee knew Mai’s parents well, and was soon the life of the party- her natural state. She chatted easily with Mai’s mother while they walked to the manor, and Tom-Tom seemed to like her, too. Hanabi still clung to Mai’s hand. She had greeted her grandparents hesitantly and kept hiding herself behind her mother. Her curiosity got the better of her, though, and she looked around with inquiring eyes. Katara guessed she hadn’t been to the estate before, or at least not in a very long time.
“Master Katara,” she heard Lord Ukano’s voice behind her. He caught up and started walking next to her. “I suppose you are in the Fire Nation for a political mission?”
“Oh, no, sir,” she said. “I’m just here to visit my old friends.”
“I knew you were close with the Fire Lord,” Ukano said, “but I never realized you were a friend of Mai’s, too.”
She couldn’t help a smirk. “I didn’t use to be. But we’ve gotten to know each other a little better.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. Life at court can be challenging, it’s good if Mai has a friend there.”
Katara nodded but didn’t know how to answer. She remembered Lord Ukano as a strict conservative, holding on to traditions, always unyielding and uncompromising. It had often frustrated her when she was negotiating with the Council after the war, and she knew he had caused Zuko countless headaches. But he came across very differently now. She’d heard he had become more lenient after his daughter married the Fire Lord, and it seemed like old age had made him even milder.
A servant opened the door for them and their company entered the manor.
“Why don’t you go change before dinner,” Michi asked. “The servants will show you your rooms.”
Before she knew it, a young maid was carrying Katara’s bag to the guest wing of the manor, and she and Ty Lee were brought to two large rooms. A little dazed, she brushed and re-braided her hair and put on the nice azure robe Zuko had given her. It was either that or her well-worn traveling clothes, and she realized very well that a dinner in this manor was almost as big of a deal as a dinner at court.
She met Ty Lee on her way back to the central wing, who had also put on more formal attire.
“I think this guest room is even larger than my room at the palace,” Katara said, sharing her marvel. “And there’s so much gold!”
“I know right?” Ty Lee answered. “It’s always been like this. Mai’s family is one of the oldest and richest in the Fire Nation. I’m from a noble family too but we’ve never been rich. It was always made clear to me that I was extremely privileged that she and the Princess were my friends.”
“I can imagine. I feel myself getter smaller already.”
“Don’t give in to the intimidation. They’re nice people. You know Lord Ukano from the Council, right? So you’ll know how to handle him. Besides, he’s very different in private. And Lady Michi is just the sweetest.”
“They do seem nice,” Katara agreed. “It’s funny to see Tom-Tom again, too.”
“Isn’t he a cutie!” Ty Lee exclaimed. Then she seemed to remember something. “By the way, we really need to catch up too. It’s been so long. Let’s have a chat after dinner,” she smiled. Katara agreed, smiling as well, but an uneasy feeling crept up in her stomach. Ty Lee was as smooth as glass so she couldn’t put her finger on it, but she definitely was onto something. She took a deep breath to steady herself before they entered the dining hall.

In the end it seemed like she had worried for nothing. Yes, the dinner was extremely refined and luxurious, with servants running to and fro, carrying shining plates laden with finely spiced curries and rare fowl. Lord Ukano’s presence at the head of the table was as heavy and domineering as it had been in the Council, but his voice was softer and the wrinkles seemed to have made his face more friendly. Lady Michi sat next to him, her back pin-straight despite her age, nothing but proper etiquette and manners, but she radiated hospitality and generosity. She was the epitome of Fire Nation elegance, and Katara noticed how much she resembled Mai. Undoubtedly Mai would look exactly the same when she was older. Then it struck her that Mai would never get that old, and she choked on her lemon-grass curry. She coughed and excused herself. It cost her a lot of effort to keep her face straight for the rest of the meal.
When the servants had taken away the bowls and plates, Mai stood up. She looked around and said: “Ty Lee, Katara, could you check if Hanabi’s sleeping well?” Katara got the hint and immediately stood up from the table. The last thing she saw was Ukano’s quirked eyebrows, before Ty Lee grabbed her arm and pulled her along out of the room.
“I don’t think she really wanted us to check on the little one, did she?” Ty Lee said once they were outside. Katara shook her head.
“Let’s go outside for a bit, then.”
The two of them walked across the hall and out of the front gate to the garden, where dusk was already falling over the trees.
“How do you think they’ll take it?” Katara asked. Ty Lee shrugged.
“How would your parents take it? How would you take it if it were your own daughter?”
She shuddered. “You’re right. There’s no way they’ll take it lightly.” She looked sideways at Ty Lee. “It can’t be easy for you either. She’s still your best friend, isn’t she?”
Ty Lee pressed her lips together. “Mai and I… We’ve been through so much together. I can’t stand that this is something she has to go through alone.”
“Hm-hm.”
“And…” her lips started to quiver, “soon, I’ll have to go through everything else without her.”
Katara awkwardly placed her hand on Ty Lee’s arm. The acrobat sniffed and rubbed her nose, and straightened her back. Then she forced a smile at Katara.
“How strange it must be for you, to be at the center of all this drama, and yet still be an outsider.”
Katara’s eyes widened and she looked at Ty Lee directly. “That’s exactly how I feel. I couldn’t put it in words myself, but you’re absolutely right.”
Ty Lee sniffed again and pulled up a shoulder. “I am good at reading people. Speaking of which…”
Inwardly, Katara braced herself.
“What’s going on between you and Zuko? And does Mai know about it?”
Katara quickly checked if there were any servants nearby. The two of them were strolling the winding stone path in the garden, and they were alone.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, and she could hear how fake it sounded.
“Oh come on,” Ty Lee said. “You could barely look at Zuko this morning, and he was even more awkward than usual. Something happened.”
“You’re mistaken,” Katara insisted, but Ty Lee raised her hand.
“I understand you don’t want to tell me. But you can trust me. I won’t judge you. I know relationships can be complicated, and honestly, what you and Zuko do doesn’t concern me at all. The only thing I’m interested in is if Mai is unhappy or not.”
Katara let her breath escape. “Mai doesn’t know.”
“So there is something going on!”
She closed her eyes and let her head hang down.
“Ty Lee… promise me you won’t tell Mai.”
“She won’t hear it from me.”
“I’m… I’m in love with Zuko. I think he knows, but it’s not… it’s not like we’re doing anything behind Mai’s back. He would never do that.”
“But you would?”
Katara glared at her. “She’s Zuko’s wife, and she’s dying. How could I?”
Ty Lee shrugged. “What do you plan to do? Does Zuko answer your feelings?”
Katara sunk down on a stone bench between the low trees. She sighed deeply.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? I can’t do anything about it, anyway.”
“No, you can’t,” Ty Lee agreed, and sat down next to her. “Am I the only one who knows?” she asked.
“Yeah. Not even Zuko knows the extent of my feelings for him.”
“Which is a good thing, I suppose.”
They sat next to each other in silence for a while. Katara stared at the ground.
“Aren’t you going to ask me about Aang at all?” she finally said.
“What do I have to do with Aang?” Ty Lee asked. “Does he still want me to come live at one of the Air Temples? Because I’ve told him a hundred times already, just ‘cause my grandma was an Air Nomad doesn’t mean I want to be one too, and…”
“No,” Katara said, cutting her off. “That’s not what I meant. But you don’t seem surprised at all about me being here alone, and, you know, in love with someone else.”
“Mai had written you were at the palace alone, so that wasn’t new,” she said. “And I had heard some rumors that the Avatar was single again. But to be honest, Suki came to Kyoshi Island the day I left, and she told me it was true that you and Aang had broken up. Apparently you sent a letter to Sokka?”
Katara gasped. “They already got my letter?!”
“Yeah, it was very fresh news,” Ty Lee said. “Suki sounded concerned about you.”
Katara was speechless for a moment, and stared at the smooth stepping-stones.
“How are they doing?” she asked finally.
“Fine, as far as I know. Suki looked radiant, but then again she always does. And I’ve seen Sokka some months ago too. He’s grown a beard, it looks quite good on him.”
Katara let out a laugh. She tried to imagine her brother with a beard, and could only think of his disguise as Wang Fire. She started giggling despite herself, and Ty Lee joined her.
They were disturbed by a servant who hurried towards them, a concerned look on his face.
“Forgive me, but the Fire Lady requests your immediate presence,” he stammered while he bowed. Ty Lee and Katara exchanged worried looks and quickly followed the servant back to the manor.

Mai was waiting for them outside the dining room. She looked very tired. Katara heard faint sobbing coming from inside, but the doors were closed.
“I told them,” Mai said matter-of-factly. Ty Lee looked at her with big eyes beneath her furrowed brows.
“Don’t give me that look, Ty. They’ll get over it,” Mai said, then turned to Katara. “I’d like a healing session, if it suits you.”
Katara nodded. “Of course.”
“Let’s use the bathroom next to my rooms. Ty Lee, come with us.”
Mai strode to her quarters and the two others followed. When they arrived at Mai’s bathroom the Fire Lady waved her hand to dismiss the maids that were waiting for them. She sighed and turned to her companions.
“I’ve seen enough people for today.”
Ty Lee took her robes and Katara helped her step into the deep bath. It was built into the ground, not a tub like in the palace, but more like a pool. It reminded Katara of the bathhouses built around geysers in the North Pole.
Mai leaned back in the water and Katara stretched out her hands above her. It had become a daily routine by now. While the glowing waves rippled over Mai’s body, Ty Lee sat down at the edge of the bath and asked:
“How did your parents take it?”
Mai kept her eyes closed and answered: “Father doesn’t believe it. I think he wants to talk to you, Katara, before he can accept it.”
“Pff,” Katara blew her hairloopies out of her face. “I’ll do my best, but he has never wanted to take my word for anything before.”
“He’s changed since he left the Council,” Mai said. “I almost think he cares a little about me now. Of course, I’m the Fire Lady, so even if it’s not for his daughter, at least he’ll mourn for his monarch. His love for the Fire Nation is something that will never wane.”
“I think you don’t give him enough credit,” Ty Lee said softly. “I know he’s always been a royalist, so you may think he only thinks about that, but he does care about you a lot.”
“Hmmm.”
“What about your mother?” Katara asked. “I heard her crying.”
Now something like sadness did seem to cast a shadow over Mai’s face.
“Yes, she cried. She has always been emotional,” she said.
“I thought she was the one who taught you to hide your emotions and be well-behaved?”
Mai didn’t immediately answer. Instead, Ty Lee said:
“I remember that your mother wanted you to be a bit more outgoing, actually.”
Now Mai frowned and grumbled: “In any case, they always wanted me to be something else than what I was.”
Katara moved her hand over Mai’s stomach, easing the pain she felt there, and she seemed to relax more.
“Maybe I don’t give them enough credit,” she sighed. “I’ll try to be more patient with them tomorrow.”
“Don’t underestimate what a powerful force grief can be,” Katara said. “Parents losing their child… I can’t even imagine it.”
“I guess...”
“What about Tom-Tom?” Ty Lee asked, while she stretched out her legs over her head. “I mean, I know you weren’t close, but it must impact him! He’s a sensitive kid.”
“Yeah, he is. But he’s still a child.”
“Ha! We fought a war when we were his age,” Katara huffed. “Don’t underestimate kids!”
“True, but he grew up very differently. He’s never been in a fight as far as I know, and I doubt he would do well in one.”
“Be glad. Isn’t that what we fought for? A peaceful world where kids could grow up safely?”
“You fought for that, yes,” Mai almost smiled. “I only fought because it gave me something to do.”
Ty Lee laughed. “Oh Mai, you’ve never changed!”
“Come to think of it,” Mai turned to Katara, “how old were you when you started bending?”
Katara blinked. “Uhm, five or six, I think. I don’t really remember.”
“Hmm. Azula was barely three, but then again, she was an exceptional genius.”
“Why do you ask?”
“For Hanabi, of course.”
Katara didn’t know what to say. She wanted to say Hanabi would be fine even if she couldn’t bend, but it was painfully obvious that she was the only bender in the room, so did she really have a right to say that? The truth was that she had no idea what it was like to be a non-bender. Bending was such an integral part of her…
“Zuko was pretty late, wasn’t he?” Ty Lee chimed in. “Seven, right?”
“Yeah, his father wouldn’t let him forget that. Azula had been bending for years already before he could even produce a small flame.”
“So Hanabi might just be late as well.”
“That’s what I hope.”
Ty Lee smiled. “The genes of the royal family are strong. Neither Lady Ilah nor Lady Ursa were firebenders, but all of their children were.”
“I know. But they came from bending families. No one in my family bends.”
“None in mine, either,” Ty Lee sighed. “Though there might’ve been some airbenders no one told me about.”
“When did you find out about your grandmother, anyway?” Mai asked. “I can’t imagine you could have attended the Royal Academy for Girls if that had been known.”
“A few years back.” Ty Lee locked eyes with Katara, who paused her healing to nod.
“Yeah, we were digging through the royal archives with Zuko’s help. Aang found out that during the raids on the Western Air Temple, most women and children were not actually killed, but taken prisoner or driven out. Some managed to escape, some ended up living in captivity and servitude in the Fire Nation…”
“And my grandma was apparently so beautiful that my grandpa made her his wife. He was the sixth son, anyway, so I guess it didn’t really matter who he married.”
“Your family must be huge,” Katara commented. Ty Lee shrugged.
“I don’t really see them anymore. I don’t like visiting the old house and they all think Kyoshi Island is too far away.”
“Hanabi wants to become a Kyoshi Warrior, you know,” Katara blurted out. Ty Lee looked up with widened eyes. “Oh?”
Mai sighed. “Is that her newest fancy? Where did she get that idea?”
“We met some traveling musicians in the city, a while ago. They’d been to Kyoshi Island and their daughter had learned to walk the tightrope there. I knew it had to have been you,” she said to Ty Lee.
“Bluebell!” Ty Lee’s face lit up. “They were such sweethearts!”
“I hope she won’t start wearing face-paint,” Mai muttered, and sunk back deeper into the water.
“I can teach her some moves tomorrow,” Ty Lee said enthusiastically, grinning at Mai but directing her smile at Katara when she didn’t receive a response. “So she can fight even if she’s not a bender.”
Katara nodded in approval. “I think that’s a very good idea.”
“Do I get any say at all in this?” Mai asked sharply. She rose from the water and wiped her wet hair out of her face. Ty Lee quickly leaned over and handed her a towel.
“Would you not like it?” she asked, slightly pouting. “Oh come on Mai, it’ll be fun, she’ll love it!”
“And don’t you want her to be able to defend herself?” Katara added while she stepped out of the water as well. “You said yourself she is too sheltered and needs to get tougher. A little training might be a step in that direction.”
“You’re both very persuasive,” Mai sighed, but she wasn’t frowning. “Fine. It might distract her, too.”
She wrapped the towel around herself and when she met Ty Lee and Katara’s happy faces, she couldn’t suppress a small smile herself.

Chapter Text

The next day Mai sat under the balustrade, stretched out on a long chair. Her mother sat beside her and occasionally they would exchange a few soft-spoken words. Ukano stood by at a slight distance, just listening, his hands behind his back and his face blank. His eyes remained focused on a scene that took place on the grassy field in front of the manor.
Ty Lee and Katara stood in front of Hanabi and Tom-Tom, who had very serious looks on their faces. Ty Lee stepped back and took a defensive stance.
“Now, when an attacker comes at you like this,” she said, and Katara ran at her with raised fists, “you intercept their movement and try to make them lose their balance.”
She moved aside and dodged Katara’s fist, who pretended to stumble, allowing Ty Lee to lightly tap her side.
“And then you can hit their weak spots!”
Hanabi’s eyes were big and Tom-Tom applauded. Katara made a little bow and explained:
“The great thing about this move is that it’s not about strength. You don’t have to be taller or stronger than your opponent in order to win.”
“Can I try?” Hanabi asked, barely hiding the excitement in her voice. Ty Lee nodded. The girl hopped to her feet and raised her fists. Ty Lee corrected her form and showed her how to hold her arms. Meanwhile Katara turned to Tom-Tom.
“Do you want to practice as well?” The boy blushed and nodded.
“Have you had any combat training?” she asked, as he assumed a pose.
“Only a bit of swordfighting. I’m not very good at it,” he said. Katara stood beside him and imitated his pose.
“Look, if you place your right foot a bit more forward, you’re more balanced,” she said. He copied her.
“And now you can use your left arm to defend your stomach and lower body, while you have your right to attack. Can you try to hit me?”
He pursed his lips and nodded, drew back his arm and swung it forward in a punch. She held up her hand in front of her face and caught his fist.
“Very good!” she said. “Now, the most important thing is to keep your wrist straight.”
She continued teaching him and felt like she was getting back in her element. Healing was a big part of her, but it was all she had done for the last weeks. Using her fists, running, dodging, feeling her muscles work, that was something she relished in. It was fun to be teaching again, too. She’d forgotten how good she was at it.
Tom-Tom was obviously not used to moving around so much. He was out of breath quickly and had trouble with his coordination. He stumbled, lost his balance, and missed aim a lot. But he showed determination. After half an hour of practicing punches, he rested his hands on his knees and stood bent over, panting, sweat dripping from his hair.
“C-can we take a break?” he asked between heavy breaths.
“Of course,” Katara nodded. She sat next to him in the grass while he let himself fall backward.
“Sorry I’m so bad at this,” Tom-Tom sighed.
“Don’t be,” Katara smiled. “You’re working really hard. You can’t expect to do something right immediately. Practice is everything.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he said. She pointed at Ty Lee, who demonstrated a backflip for a wide-eyed Hanabi.
“Look, this seems so easy for her now, but Ty Lee has been walking on her hands since she was a child. Everything requires time and effort.”
“I’m just not sure if I have any talent for fighting at all.”
“Talent may give you a nice start, but it can also make you lazy,” Katara warned. “And you can already do more now than you could before, so that’s something, right?”
“Yes… But I think I wanna go back to my books after this.”
“Of course, whatever you want,” Katara said. “What kind of books do you like?”
His face lit up. “I’m reading an adventure story about the hidden library of Wan Shi Tong at the moment! It’s really exciting! I think I want to write my own version and make it into a play- I want to become a playwright when I grow up.”
Katara smiled. He continued telling her about the story while they watched Hanabi and Ty Lee, who were still playing. The Fire Princess was balancing on her hands while Ty Lee held her ankles.
“You’re doing great!” she exclaimed. “Now try to take a step.” Hanabi moved a hand, swayed, and Ty Lee steadied her. She seemed to be standing straight again, but as soon as Ty Lee released her grip, Hanabi fell over and rolled in the grass. She and Ty Lee both roared with laughter, and Katara started giggling too. Just then, a shadow fell over her. She looked up and quickly straightened her face when she saw Lord Ukano looming over her. She jumped to her feet, and Tom-Tom quickly stood up as well. He looked worried, but Ukano gave him an approving look.
“Well done. I saw you worked hard.” A deep red colour spread out over Tom-Tom’s face up to his ears, and he bowed. Ukano turned to Katara.
“Master Katara. Might I have a word?”
Katara nodded and followed him back to the manor. As soon as they were away from Tom-Tom, his face turned very solemn.
“Just to be sure,” he said, and Katara felt her mood sink, “you have tried every possible method of healing on my daughter?”
Katara swallowed. “Yes, sir. I have even used techniques I’ve never tried before.”
“Hmmm.” The hem of Katara’s sleeve was suddenly very interesting, and she plucked at it, unable to look at Mai’s father.
“Now, I am not a medic,” he said, “but am I right in assuming this visit is the last one she will pay to this house?”
Katara nodded hesitantly. “I believe she told you so herself last night?”
His face seemed to be carved out of stone. “She did. I just wanted you to confirm it.”
“I’m very sorry, sir,” she said softly. “I wish there was more I could do.”
“I’m sure you’re not the only one who wishes that,” he answered curtly. Katara bit her lip. She reminded herself she had to remain polite.
“Sir, let me assure you that I am doing everything in my power,” she said. They had reached the large hall and stood before the entrance to the library. Lord Ukano pushed against the door and entered it. It was small but elegant, the walls paneled with intricately carved wood, and a heavy desk in the center. He walked up to a shelf and took a scroll.
“Are you familiar with Fire Nation history?” he asked, unrolling it.
“I’ve studied it,” Katara said, trying to hide her surprise.
“Then you must know Fire Lord Xuan, of the Han era.”
She blinked. “The Han era? That was… a long time ago.”
Ukano merely looked at her, expressionless. She didn’t have to guess which parent Mai took after most.
“His life story is quite remarkable,” he said. “Shall I read it to you?”
Katara understood that it wasn’t a question, and nodded.
“Shortly after Xuan was born, his grandfather, the Crown Prince, was falsely accused of treason by jealous ministers and sentenced to death by the Fire Lord. His whole family was executed as well, including Xuan’s parents. Only Xuan, a baby of barely a few months old, was spared and imprisoned instead of executed. But the prison warden knew the Crown Prince was innocent. He took pity on the child and had some female prisoners take care of him. Xuan grew up in prison and the Fire Lord seemed to have forgotten about him. Eventually the Warden took him into his home and raised him as his own child. This boy, the only surviving heir to the throne, grew up as a commoner.”
He looked up from the scroll and gazed intensely at Katara. “Remarkable, isn’t it? To think that our current Fire Lord has also lived as a commoner for quite some time.”
“Very,” she said, her throat dry.
“Now, through a stroke of luck, the old Fire Lord died without an heir. A regent named Huo took care of things for a while and uncovered that the Crown Prince had actually been innocent. He found out that the Prince’s grandson was still alive, and suddenly Xuan was restored to the throne. He was only seventeen years old.”
“Just like Zuko was. Remarkable, yes,” Katara commented in answer to Ukano’s raised eyebrow.
“Xuan had already married the Warden’s daughter by then. Her name was Pingjun and they loved each other very much. But the ministers opposed to having a mere commoner as Fire Lady. They wanted a noble woman as Fire Lady. Regent Huo let the young Fire Lord marry his own daughter Chengjun and tried to change his first wife’s status into Royal Consort.”
“His first wife was made a concubine so the regent’s daughter could become Fire Lady?” Katara asked, frowning.
“That’s what they tried,” Ukano answered. “But Fire Lord Xuan wouldn’t allow it. He made Pingjun Fire Lady, and Chengjun became a consort instead. This was, of course, a source of bitterness for her.”
“I can imagine,” Katara said. “I think it’s good you got rid of that whole multiple wives thing centuries ago. It makes no sense.”
Ukano didn’t answer but continued: “Fire Lord Xuan ruled wisely and was loved by his people. Soon, Pingjun became pregnant. Chengjun had hoped to get pregnant first and give birth to the heir, which would raise her status, but now that chance was gone. Her father, regent Huo, still wanted her to be Fire Lady and came up with a plan. When it was time for the baby to be born Chengjun pretended to assist Pingjun during labour, but instead of giving her medicine, she poisoned her. Shortly after Pingjun gave birth to a son, she died.”
Katara gasped. “How horrible! Were they found out?”
“No,” Ukano said in a dark voice. “They were not. Their plan was a success. Chengjun was made Fire Lady after Pingjun’s cremation. After a while she gave birth to a son herself and for years, she lived a lavish life. Because Xuan had grown up as a commoner he had never cared much about wealth, nor had Pingjun, but Chengjun changed that. Her palace became one of the most luxurious ones in Fire Nation history. This set bad blood among the people, and rumours started. Rumours that Pingjun’s death had been a little too sudden, and a little too convenient for Chengjun. These rumours became more and more persistent, and Chengjun and her father became scared. Something needed to be done before the Fire Lord would get suspicious. They came up with another plan. They were going to kill the Crown Prince and the Fire Lord, so Chengjun’s own son could take the throne.”
Katara’s eyes went wide.
“This time however, they were found out. Their coup was intercepted. When Fire Lord Xuan learned what they had done to his first wife… they and their whole family were executed.”
Katara clasped her hand over her mouth. “How cruel!”
Ukano shrugged. “That’s what happens when you plan a coup.” He rolled up the scroll and put it back on the shelve.
“Wait, that’s it? That’s the end?” Katara asked. “But what about Chengjun’s son? And why didn’t the Avatar interfere? And what happened to the Warden? And-”
“That is irrelevant,” Ukano said, crossing his arms.
“Then why would you even tell me this story?” She gasped when it hit her. “You don’t honestly think-!”
“I am merely informing you of a very remarkable piece of Fire Nation history,” Ukano said, but his tone was still dark. “One cannot deny there are obvious parallels to the present. See for yourself what lessons you extract from it.”
“Lord Ukano, if you are accusing me of anything…”
“I wouldn’t dare. But I know you are close with the Fire Lord, and from our time in the Council together, I know how ambitious you are and how politically savvy. So I thought I shouldn’t withhold this story from you.”
Katara felt the hairs on her neck prickle as they rose. She took a breath to steady herself and said in a cool voice:
“Mai is my patient. I care deeply about Zuko and her, and I am doing everything I can to help them. I have no other motives. If you fail to see that, I don’t know how to convince you otherwise.”
“I am not convinced of anything. I just wanted you to know what the wrath of a Fire Lord can be. And I also want you to know that I love my daughter, and I love my country, and I will stop at nothing to protect them both.”
“That is a noble characteristic,” Katara said, her hands cold. “Thank you for this history lesson, sir. I am going back to Mai now.”
The corners of Ukano’s mouth rose while the rest of his face remained unmoving. “I’ll escort you outside.”

Katara sat through dinner very uncomfortably. She was relieved that the rest of the company seemed in better spirits, but she felt Ukano’s eyes upon her constantly. She absent-mindedly touched her necklace. The familiar ridges offered a little comfort.
“Father,” Mai said, putting down her spoonful of steamed mackerel. “Can I visit the ancestor’s temple tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“I’d like to take Hanabi there. I trust the first-born’s relic is still on display?”
Ukano’s eyebrows rose. “It is. Why do you ask?”
“I think it’s time for it to not be just a relic anymore.”
Michi cast a concerned look at her husband, but he only inclined his head and remained silent. Katara nudged Ty Lee under the table.
“Can I talk to you after dinner?” she asked quietly. The girl looked surprised but nodded. When they were dismissed, and Mai left for the sitting-room arm in arm with her mother, Ty Lee and Katara went outside again.
“What is it? Your aura’s gone all pale,” Ty Lee said. Katara buried her face in her hands.
“I think Lord Ukano thinks I’m poisoning Mai.”
“What?”
“I’m not sure if he thinks it’s because I want to marry Zuko or to ruin the Fire Nation, but he told me a story about an ancient Fire Lord with two wives, Pingjun and Chengjun, and one killed the other and I-”
“Fire Lord Xuan of Han? Really, he told you that? That story is super famous, there’s like a million novels and plays about it. I danced in an adaption of it at the circus. But are you sure that’s what he thinks of you?”
“I guess so! It felt like a warning.”
“But he doesn’t know about your feelings for Zuko, does he?”
“He did say he knows we’re close, but we’ve been close ever since the war! He’s one of my best friends! No, I don’t think he really knows, but he might suspect it?”
“When someone dies of illness their doctors are usually blamed,” Ty Lee shrugged. “People need to blame someone, it’s part of the mourning process. Like you said, grief can be a very powerful drive.”
“But I don’t want anyone to think I’m letting Mai die intentionally!”
Ty Lee took a hold of her shoulder and looked into her eyes.
“Katara, the people who know you would never believe that.”
“But what about the people who don’t know me?”
Ty Lee blew a strand of hair away from her face. “You’ll just have to, you know, not give them any reason to.”
“Thanks,” Katara mumbled, grasping her own elbow. She stared at the ground. “When did this all become so complicated?”
“Hey, don’t ask me!” Ty Lee shrugged. “There’s a reason I ran away to the circus. Welcome to the life of a noble court lady.”
“Pfff,” Katara sighed. “I wish I was still a peasant.”
“Well, technically you still are.”
Katara glared at her. “You really know how to cheer me up, don’t you?”
Ty Lee grinned. “Sorry.”
“In all seriousness, though,” Katara continued, “do you think I should tell Mai?”
“About what her father thinks? Or about you and Zuko?”
“Both, I guess.”
Ty Lee narrowed her eyes and the smile dropped off her face. “Listen Katara, I told you before that I don’t care about you, or Zuko, or anyone’s feelings. There’s only one thing I care about, and that is Mai. If she really only has a short time left on this earth, then don’t you dare make her unhappy!”
“You feel very strongly about her, don’t you?”
Ty Lee avoided Katara’s eyes and looked away. She kept staring at the treetops on the edge of the garden.
“For so long, fear of Azula was what ruled my life. Everything I did, I did to please her. It was paralyzing. I didn’t even allow myself to think things that she’d disagree with. But then Mai stood up to her, and she said the love she felt was stronger than her fear, and I realized…” She stopped.
“And you stood up to Azula as well.” Katara’s mouth fell open. “I see.”
“Mai would’ve died to protect Zuko,” Ty Lee said, “and I would’ve died to protect her. It’s quite simple, really. But she married Zuko, so it doesn’t matter anyway.
“Is that part of the reason you moved to Kyoshi Island?”
“I am motivated by a lot more than just a bruised heart,” Ty Lee protested. “But I guess it might’ve played a role.”
“Does Mai know?”
Ty Lee slowly shook her head. “It’s okay though. I value our friendship much more.”
Katara carefully put an arm around her shoulders.
“I think you understand exactly how I feel about Zuko, then,” she softly said. To her alarm, tears started to well up in Ty Lee’s grey eyes.
“There’s one big difference,” she said in a thick voice. “Zuko returns your feelings, at least.”
“I’m not so sure of that, and I don’t know if that would make the situation better or worse,” Katara said, rubbing Ty Lee’s arm.
“And I’m not sure if I’m happy for you, or jealous, or angry about it,” Ty Lee said, sobbing for real now. “But above all I’m just so, so incredibly sad…”
She buried her face in the crook of Katara’s neck, and Katara wrapped her arms around the crying girl and softly rocked her.
When Ty Lee’s sobs evened out, Katara quietly said: “Come. Let’s go back inside, wash your face. Go back to Mai and make the most of the time you have left.”
Ty Lee rubbed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Katara,” she whispered. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Promise.”

Chapter Text

The next morning after breakfast, Mai took Ty Lee, Katara and Hanabi to a temple in a faraway corner of the estate. Hanabi clung to Mai’s hand at first, still unwilling to let go of her mother, but after half a mile Mai’s fatigue worsened and she had to release her. They continued in a different formation: Mai leaned on Ty Lee’s arm for support, and Katara took Hanabi’s hand instead.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have one of us go back and ask for a palanquin?” Ty Lee asked. Mai shook her head. “No. It’s not that far, I can manage. And it’s a greater sign of respect to my ancestors to arrive on foot.”
A small white temple with golden details became visible in the distance. It was built on a wooden loft between the thick green foliage.
Mai stood still before the entrance and sounded the small copper gong that hung there. It gave a clear, metallic clang and she bowed. Then she stepped out of her shoes, placed them next to the entrance and went inside. The others followed her example.
Katara held her breath when she entered. A strong smell of incense filled the small space, and in the half-dark she saw a large altar decorated with gold and precious stones. About two dozen urns in various shapes and sizes stood on little plateaus on the altar.
Mai clapped her hands twice and bowed to the altar. Ty Lee nudged Katara, and she hurriedly did the same.
“Come Hanabi, light the candles with me,” Mai said. She took two lighters and some spark stones. Hanabi took one of the lighters from her hands and started igniting the candles in front of the urns on the left side of the altar, while Mai started from the right.
When all the candles were burning and the temple seemed to bathe in a warm golden light, Mai kneeled on the floor before the altar. She gestured Hanabi to kneel next to her, while Katara and Ty Lee kept a little distance.
“Noble ancestors,” Mai started, and folded her hands together. “I humbly come before you. My name is Mai, daughter of Ukano and Michi, and spouse of the Fire Lord. I’ve brought my daughter here today, Hanabi, Crown Princess of the Fire Nation.”
Hanabi looked at her mother with wide eyes, then returned her gaze to the altar and bowed until her forehead almost touched the floor.
“I do not have long to live,” Mai said, and swallowed. “I have come to ask your blessing for my daughter, before I will join you in the Spirit World.”
Katara whispered to Ty Lee: “Why is there no priest? I thought all temples were led by Fire Sages?”
Ty Lee shook her head. “Not in ancestor temples like this. This is all run by the family.”
Katara turned her attention back to the scene in front of the altar.
“In the house of Ukano, I am the first born,” Mai said. “As is Hanabi my own first and only child. Although it has been resting here for generations, I request permission to remove our family’s heirloom from this temple and gift it to my daughter, the heir of our bloodline.”
Katara quirked her eyebrows, wondering what this heirloom could be. Mai placed her hands in front of her and bowed deeply again, then strenuously stood up. She walked over to a small box in front of the altar. It was carved out of dark wood, in the same delicate style as the furniture in the manor, and decorated with intricate golden smithwork and small, gleaming jewels. Katara thought she recognized the shapes of dragons on it. Mai raised the lid and reached inside. With both hands she lifted a long dagger out of the box. Its handle seemed to be made of gold, and the blade was curved. Like a serpenting river, Katara thought, or a dragon’s tail. Next to her, she heard Ty Lee gasp.
“But Mai, that’s-!”
Mai glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrow, and Ty Lee fell silent again.
“What’s that mommy? A sword?” Hanabi asked. She stood up and joined her mother.
“Something like that,” Mai said. “It’s called a kris. Long ago, before the islands of the Fire Nation were unified, people from our island fought with these.”
“But it’s so pretty. How can you fight with it?” Hanabi stretched out her hand to touch it, but Mai held the weapon back.
“Careful, it’s very sharp. It may look beautiful, but it’s just as dangerous as a sword or a dagger. But it’s different from other weapons. Every kris has its own personality. A spirit, so to say. And this one is no exception.”
Hanabi’s eyes were big and she cast a frightened look at the dagger.
“What’s this one, mommy? Is it a good spirit?”
“I don’t know,” Mai said, and her lips betrayed a slight smile. “I never used it. It’s been kept in here for as long as I can remember.”
“Why?”
“It’s an heirloom. The firstborn child inherits it. But a kris is an old-fashioned weapon. Your grandfather didn’t want to use it. And I… well, they never let me.”
“But you’re the firstborn, so it’s yours, right?” Hanabi asked. Mai nodded.
“And I’m giving it to you now, because you are the next one to inherit it.”
Hanabi’s mouth fell open. She came closer and inspected the smooth curves of the blade, running her finger over its surface.
“But if it has a spirit, mommy, isn’t that dangerous?”
“It depends. The bond between a kris and its owner is very personal. A kris that might be good for one person could be very bad for another. But since no one has used this kris for generations, I don’t know what kind of spirit it has.”
“That’s… scary,” Hanabi said, biting her lip. Even so, she kept staring at it in fascination.
“You will have to develop a bond with it,” Mai said. “I never had the chance. But I’ve been thinking, and I want you to take it back with you to the palace. Then you can train with it. I saw you practice fighting yesterday, and I know you like it. This kris can help you.”
“I can use it to fight? But mommy, I thought you didn’t like me fighting!”
Mai shook her head. “I hope it will never be necessary that you’ll have to fight,” she said softly. “But I want you to be able to, nonetheless. I learned how to fight because I was so bored that I practiced throwing knives at the wall until I was good at it. I want you to have a better alternative.”
She held out the kris and Hanabi carefully took it from her hands. The gold of the handle seemed to reflect in her eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “Like a flame.”
“The blade is made to look like a dragon,” Mai explained. “But a kris is said to contain all four elements in it. It’s made from metal, won from the earth. Then a fire is used to forge it, fed by air, and water is used to cool the metal down.”
“Wow…” Hanabi held her breath, completely entranced by the elegant weapon.
“Be careful, don’t cut yourself,” Mai said. “Don’t start playing with it right away. I want you to train with your father. He knows how to fight with swords and daggers, and he can teach you. I’m sure you’ll be very good at it, too. And then, when I’m gone… You will have something to remember me by.”
Hanabi lowered the kris and stared at her mother with big eyes.
“Mommy…” She dropped the kris back in the box and threw her arms around her mother, burying her face in the folds of Mai’s robe. Katara felt her eyes burn and she turned around, mumbled an excuse and hurriedly left the temple.
As soon as she was outside she sunk down in the grass and let the tears stream over her cheeks. She touched her necklace, felt its familiar weight, and cried. Whether it was the solemn atmosphere in a temple dedicated to ancestors, or Mai’s moving words, she didn’t know, but somehow she was overwhelmed by a feeling of her mother’s presence. She hadn’t felt it in years. The last time had been on the South Pole, when she had helped Suki give birth to her daughter. When Hakoda had held the little baby girl, Katara could’ve sworn she felt her mother smile. That was fours years ago. She hadn’t been back in four years. Homesickness hit her like like a downpour of rain.
“Hey, are you alright?”
She felt a hand on her shoulder and tried to wipe her tears away quickly. Ty Lee looked down on her, a worried look on her face.
“They’re saying their goodbyes to the ancestors now, so they’re coming out soon,” she warned. “Here, use this.”
She took a handkerchief out of her sleeve and handed it to Katara. She accepted gratefully and wiped her eyes. She sniffed and stood up, smoothing her dress. When Mai and Hanabi excited the temple, hand in hand, Katara could meet them with a smile. Hanabi held the dagger, in its engraved golden sheath, in one hand, and with the other firmly grasped her mother’s hand. Mai’s face was calm, but tired.
“Can you give me your arm again, Ty?” she asked. Her friend was at her side immediately. Slowly, the group made their way back to the manor.
“My parents might protest,” Mai said to the two other women, “but you should ignore them. The kris is Hanabi’s by right, and I don’t think it should be left in that temple, forgotten by everyone.”
Katara cast a long look at Hanabi, who was completely absorbed in studying the engravings on the sheath.
“It’s obviously something special,” she said. Mai’s talk about spirits had made her a little concerned. Did she mean the dagger was possessed? Aang would know. She pushed that thought away. Aang was at the other side of the world, in his Temple high on the mountain, doing- what would he be doing now? She shook her head.
“We’re going back to the palace tomorrow,” Mai said, and Katara couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

At the Capital’s harbour, Zuko stood together with the Minister of Agriculture and his first secretary, along with some other clerks and guards, watching the ships unload.
“There should be six young earthbenders,” Zuko said. “You’ve got the letter, right?”
The secretary held up a scroll. “Yes, Your Highness!”
Sure enough, after a few minutes they saw a group of green-clad teenagers come down the gangway. They spotted the royal banner one of the guards was carrying, and walked confidently up to their hosts. When they reached them they put their fists together and bowed deeply. The Minister returned the bow and immediately began introducing them to his secretary and the other staff, but Zuko was distracted. He watched the ship as the other passengers disembarked. An old man was the last one to walk down the gangway, dressed in simple Earth Kingdom garb, with a well-kept beard and the cap of a retired scholar- but his twinkling golden eyes gave him away.
“Uncle!”
Zuko hoisted up his long robes, ran down the docks and flung himself into the old man’s arms.
“My boy,” Iroh said, engulfing his nephew into a hug. “My dear boy. It’s been too long.”
“It’s always too long,” Zuko answered, keeping his arms around his uncle but leaning back to look at him. “I’m so happy you’re here! Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”
“It was kind of a last-minute decision,” Iroh said. “But when Toph told me her students were going here, I thought I might as well go with them.”
Zuko glanced back at the group of officials, painfully aware of the un-lordly scene he had just made, but looked back at Iroh with a smile.
“Wanna go have some tea in the city before we go back to the palace?”
“Do you really need to ask?” the old man answered.
Zuko dismissed the guards and left his Minister to deal with the rest, took off his crown and mantle, then turned back to his uncle. Iroh set a leisurely tempo and together they strolled to the city. Just walking beside his uncle at this slow speed made Zuko feel more at ease, as if calmness radiated from Iroh and seeped into him. They chatted about Iroh’s journey until they sat down in the back of a small teahouse, overlooking the sea. Then Iroh’s face took a more serious expression.
“Nephew, you realize of course I didn’t just come here to make sure Toph’s students arrived safely.”
Zuko nodded.
“I got your letter,” Iroh continued. “This must be very hard for you. How long have you known? And how is Mai herself under it?”
Zuko stared down at his teacup, plucking at a chip in the porcelain.
“We’ve known it since... since the last full moon, I guess. Well, after Katara got a letter from the North Pole that confirmed it.” Iroh raised his eyebrows, understanding. “I wrote to you almost immediately after that. Oh, Uncle, I’m so relieved that you’re here,” Zuko sighed. “I feel so lost and confused.”
“Then I’m glad I came,” Iroh smiled. “Tell me, how’s the atmosphere in the palace?”
“We haven’t publicly announced it yet. Mai’s at her parent’s estate right now to tell them, she didn’t want them to hear it second-hand.”
“I can imagine. It must be quite a shock for them.”
Zuko glanced carefully at his uncle. Iroh knew what it felt like to lose a child. He didn’t dare to ask. But his thoughts were understood, anyway.
“I can’t give you or them any comfort,” Iroh said. “It will be a very hard time, for all of you.”
“I can’t…” Zuko stopped and swallowed. “I hate that Hanabi will have to grow up without a mother, now.”
Iroh slowly nodded. “That is pitiful. You must take it upon yourself to be the best father you can be for her.”
“I’m trying,” Zuko sighed. “But I don’t feel like a good father at the moment, or a good person, even. I find it so hard to do what’s right.”
“Nonsense! I know how you are with Hanabi, you know what’s right for her!”
Zuko buried his face in his hands. “It’s not about Hanabi, Uncle. I’ve made a mistake, I think, or maybe I made a mistake by not making it, and I’m… I’m so confused, and ashamed, and…”
“Hmmm.” Iroh looked at his nephew long and inquisitively. “I had a feeling this might happen,” he finally said. “Is Katara still at the palace?”
Zuko stammered something incomprehensible, his face as red as the lining of his robe. Iroh raised an eyebrow. “You told me about your feelings years ago, nephew. This old man has an iron memory.”
“Especially when it comes to gossip,” Zuko muttered. “No, she’s with Mai. For healing.”
“I see. And how precarious is the situation, exactly? What can I expect when they come back?”
“I’m not sure… It depends on Katara, I think. She… well, after we…”
“After you..?” Iroh urged.
“I kissed her,” Zuko admitted, unable to look his uncle in the eye. “It was very late, and she was… she seemed to feel the same. I’m sure she feels the same!”
“Nephew, you are married,” Iroh said, and Zuko cringed under his gaze.
“I know. I feel terrible. I just keep making mistakes,” he said, “Katara, she said she didn’t want to be a mistake, and she’s right of course- she’s always right, but it didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt so natural… But it was wrong, I shouldn’t have done it.”
“I do agree that it was wrong to do,” Iroh said. “The wrong time, in any case. Does Mai know?”
Zuko shook his head.
“Do you plan on telling her?”
When Zuko remained silent, Iroh said: “I suggest that you don’t. There is no need to distress her. But you should talk with Katara and make it clear that whatever your mutual feelings are now, they have to be put on hold.”
Zuko sighed deeply. “You must be so disappointed in me.”
Iroh put down his teacup, reached out over the table and placed his hand on Zuko’s.
“I know you’re going through a hard time, and I know you’re trying your best,” he said. “That is what counts. Making mistakes is human, but if you can prevent it, you should not deliberately hurt others.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone!” Zuko said.
“Of course not. But you made a choice, nine years ago. And you should stand by it.”
“I did… And I will stand by it.” He clenched his fist. “I can’t be weak now. I can’t stray.”
“You won’t,” Iroh smiled. “I’m here to help you.”

Chapter Text

After their morning healing session, Katara played outside on the grass with Hanabi and Tom-Tom, while inside, Mai said goodbye to her parents. Katara tried very hard not to think about it too much. She distracted herself and Hanabi by teaching her how to tackle a running opponent, with Tom-Tom as her not very willing assistant. The sun was almost at its highest point when a servant appeared and summoned them all inside.
Lord Ukano’s face was still dark, but he civilly said his goodbyes to Katara. Lady Michi grasped both her hands and thanked her, with tears in her eyes, for everything she’d done for her daughter. Katara had a hard time keeping her eyes dry. She felt her insides tremble, but managed to keep her face straight.
Later, in the swaying palanquin, she played guessing games with Hanabi who was curled up against her mother’s side. She still clutched the kris in its golden sheath and wouldn’t part with it. Mai rested her head on Ty Lee’s shoulder, a rare show of vulnerability, while Ty Lee stared out of the window with a melancholic smile on her face.

When the zeppelin landed it was already dark. Hanabi was fast asleep on Katara’s lap, and she carried her carefully out of the cabin. Mai and Ty Lee followed, arm in arm. Katara was both surprised and relieved that Zuko wasn’t waiting for them at the landing deck. Now she had a little more time to prepare herself mentally for their encounter. She still didn’t know what to say to him.
“Do you want to get something to eat?” Ty Lee asked Mai, while they followed the servants carrying their bags inside. Mai shook her head.
“No, I’m not hungry. I just want to go to bed now. I’ll make a public announcement tomorrow.” She turned around. “Katara, can you bring Hanabi to bed?”
Katara nodded. She had planned to do that anyway.
“I’ll see you for a healing in the spa tomorrow morning, then,” she said. She left the two others and headed to the nursery. She still carried Hanabi. The girl’s short black hair spread out over her shoulder, and her arms were curled around her neck. She pushed open the door to the nursery with a nudge of her hip, and carefully laid Hanabi down in her bed. Doona the nanny wasn’t there. Katara guessed their party hadn’t been expected to return until the next day. She unbuttoned Hanabi’s clothes herself and pulled the sheets over the still soundly sleeping girl. She folded the clothes and placed them next to the bed, with the golden dagger on top. She was still skeptical about the gift. Obviously Hanabi was taken with it, and she understood that Mai wanted to leave her daughter something meaningful, but a spirit-possessed weapon? It seemed an odd choice. Then again, it hadn’t exactly shown many supernatural qualities yet. It was just an antique, valuable heirloom. And beautiful. She traced the curves of the engraved dragon on the sheath. Its eyes were rubies, and the many scales on its body were carved in great detail. It showed incredible craftsmanship. She wondered what Zuko would say about it.
She sighed and looked back at the sleeping girl. Within a few weeks or less, she would be motherless. Katara felt her protective instincts awaken, like a polar bear that bared its claws. The strength of those feelings baffled her. This cheeky little brat had somehow gotten a firm hold of her heart. She leaned over the bed, stroked Hanabi’s smooth black bangs away from her forehead and pressed a kiss there.
“Good night, sweetie,” she whispered.
“G’night mommy,” Hanabi mumbled, ducking away deeper into her pillow. Katara had to clasp her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from gasping. Hanabi was still fast asleep. She hurriedly stood up and tiptoed out of the room, shut the door and leaned against it. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her heartbeat was loud and fast. Here comes another night of little sleep and much reflection, she thought wryly. But beneath all the confusion and guilt, she couldn’t suppress a feeling of happy pride.
When she entered her own room, the first thing she saw was a letter on her desk. It was sealed with a blue stamp, and her breath caught in her throat. It had been a long time since she’d seen the seal of the Southern Water Tribe. She picked up the scroll and turned it over in her hands, shaking slightly. It was thick. However eagerly she wanted to read it, she was anxious as well. What would Sokka say? And her father? Would they be angry, disappointed? Would they pity her?
She sat down on her bed and broke the seal. A few sheets of paper fell out when she unrolled the scroll, and she picked up the longest one. She instantly recognized her brother’s handwriting.

Dear Katara,

I’m so happy that you finally wrote. When we heard the rumours of your split-up we didn’t know what to believe, and when I wrote to Aang he only said that you had left the Eastern Air Temple and that he didn’t know where you were. I figured you needed some time for yourself, and I’m happy I was right.
Don’t feel guilty about anything. Whatever happened between you and Aang is none of my business, but I know that you two would’ve done anything to work it out. If it really didn’t work, then maybe it wasn’t supposed to be that way. Don’t be sad- Aang has moved on and so can you.
To be honest, I don’t know what to say about what you told us. Suki says she hopes that you know being a mother isn’t the most important thing in life. She’s writing a letter to you as well, I’ll include it in the scroll. There’s also one from Dad. They can probably say it much better, but I just want you to know that I love you, and that you’re an extremely important person in our family. Ever since Mom… well, you know that. You’re also still my little sister, whom I can throw snowballs at but who still mends my clothes, and makes fun of me when I deserve it. I miss you. I know that you have your own life and duties and that they are not on the South Pole, but I still miss you every day that you aren’t here. I know Dad does too, more than he wants to admit. The kids love you, and you’re as much of a sister to Suki as you are to me. You’re family, Katara, and we will always love and support you.
I feel very bad telling this after what you wrote, but Suki is pregnant again. There’s probaby more about that in her own letter. I feel guilty now, for your sake, but I know how happy you were for us when Kunik and Maaya were born, and I hope that the knowlegde that you are an essential part of our family can be a comfort to you. It wouldn’t be the same without you- I mean, you delivered them! That’s practically like a second mom, right? Now, I don’t know how you’d feel about it, but when you’re done healing Mai, you could come back home. We all miss you. No pressure, of course, but if you want to come, we’ll be waiting for you with open arms.
I love you, Katara. Take care. Be nice to Zuko.

Sokka

P.S. Please don’t wait another year to write back.

Katara sniffed and wiped across her eyes with her sleeve. She wanted so badly to hug her brother, it was like she could almost hear his voice. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her. She quickly took the other letters.

Dear Katara,

We got your letter this morning, and although Sokka is writing a reply right now, I can tell he’s upset and doesn’t really know what to say. I don’t really, either, but I’m going to try anyway.
First of all I’m sorry about you and Aang. Some rumours had reached the South Pole, but without confirmation from either of you I always hoped they weren’t true. I hope you didn’t end things in a bad way. And I hope you know that there is so much more to being a woman than just motherhood. I know you know that! It might be hard to hear it from me, but having a baby doesn’t define you. I would’ve been the same person, with or without Kunik and Maaya. That doesn’t mean they haven’t made a difference in my life, because of course they have, but I never felt like I needed to have children to be ‘complete’.
In a way, you already are a mother. Having a baby is one thing, but being a mother is something else. The role you played during the war, when you took care of all of us, that showed your motherly, caring and loving side much more than whether or not you pushed out a baby at some point in your life. You were there when I did- you know that’s not a pleasant feeling. You helped me so much when I was pregnant, you took care of Sokka and your father and the entire Tribe here when Kanna passed away, you took the rebuilding of the Air Nomads almost entirely upon yourself… I admire you, Katara. If there ever was a matriarch, it’s you.
Now, Sokka will probably mention it in his letter as well, but I just found out I’m pregnant again. I really hope that doesn’t make you feel bad. I understand if you do, but I didn’t want to hide it from you.
I hope you’re doing good in the Fire Nation. Let Zuko take good care of you, and don’t let Mai get on your nerves. I hope she gets better soon, and then maybe you can come to the South Pole? Or let us know where you’re going after this, so we can visit you!

Love, Suki

My dear girl,

I’ve started this letter over and over again, but I can’t seem to write down what I want to say. I wish you were here so I could just hold you in my arms.
It seems such a short time ago that you were only thirteen years old and I had to leave you and Sokka behind. But I was assured then that you would be fine, because you are strong and responsible and brave, and I knew you would take care of your brother and grandmother. And I was right, and that is why you will always be fine. Life may be hard sometimes, but you’ll pull through, because that’s who you are. You are the center, the heart of our family, and everything we tried to do in the war would’ve been a failure if you hadn’t been there.
I want to write so many things but I can’t seem to find the words. So let me just say that I am proud of you, and I love you.

Dad

Katara fell back on the bed, still clutching the letters. Tears dripped down the sides of her temples and created small wet spots on the pillow. Overwhelmed by too many conflicting feelings and the fatigue of the journey, she closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She did have a home and a family. There were people in the world who would always love her. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to gather her things and leave with the first ship south, and if Hanabi hadn’t mumbled in her sleep, she might have done it. But she had never been one to run away from her problems. No matter what would happen, she would face it head on, strengthened by the knowledge that there was a loving family waiting for her back home.

-

Mai and Katara entered the breakfast room together. Mai’s hair was still wet, and Katara’s stomach grumbled- the effort of healing had made her hungry. Mai seemed content and relaxed. Although it cost Katara more trouble every day to keep her chi flowing, her organs functioning and her pain suppressed, this morning Mai’s body had lost its usual tension. Usually she subconsciously resisted the invasion of Katara’s healing water, but now she had just leaned back and let it happen. Katara wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing. It made her job easier, but it also implied that the Fire Lady had stopped fighting.
When the door opened, Zuko looked up in surprise.
“You’re back already!” he said. “I thought you wouldn’t arrive until today!”
Mai shrugged. “I guess we had a favourable wind. We came back late last night.”
“Why didn’t you send me a message?” he asked. Katara could sense his disappointment. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, so she turned her eyes to the other people in the room, and let out a squeal of surprise. Next to Hanabi sat another old friend.
“Iroh!”
He smiled at her contently. “Lovely to see you again, Katara.”
She sat down in front of them and stretched her legs out under the table. “Good morning!”
“Morning!” echoed Hanabi. They exchanged the usual small civilities while Katara attacked the rice and fish. For a moment it seemed like Mai and Zuko would start quarreling again, but Mai held back a sarcastic reply, and Zuko asked about her parents, and their conversation turned to a normal one. They spoke together in low voices, while Katara turned all her attention to Iroh. They chatted about Ba Sing Se and Toph’s earthbending students for the duration of breakfast, but when Katara put down her chopsticks on her empty plate, Iroh said:
“Before I forget, I have a letter for you from Toph.” Katara’s eyes lit up. “I left it in Zuko’s office. Nephew, will you excuse us?”
Zuko looked up at his uncle shortly, nodded, and turned back to Mai. Katara followed the old man out of the breakfast parlor and through the halls to Zuko’s office.
“Did Zuko ask you to come?” she asked. Now that they were alone, she felt she could leave the small talk behind and talk about things that truly mattered.
“Not in so many words,” Iroh answered, “but I recognize a call for help when I see one.”
“I see. And, ah… what exactly did he need your help with?”
“A little respect for the confidentiality of the Fire Lord’s correspondence, please, Katara.” Iroh sounded gentle but stern, as only he could be. Katara lowered her head.
“Sorry.”
“I believe you can guess.”
“Of course he needs support from his family, with Mai… well.”
Iroh nodded slowly. “Family needs to stick together, especially in difficult times,” he said. Katara’s stomach clenched together when she thought of her letters from the South Pole, still under her pillow. Suddenly she longed for cold wind on her face and the crunch of snow under her boots.
They had reached the office. Iroh nodded to the two guards posted outside and pushed against the sliding door. He reached inside a bag that he’d left on the desk and retrieved a small folded paper from it, sealed with the Bei Fong stamp. Katara eagerly held out her hand and took it. Toph could write, in theory. She had learned quite a few characters from Sokka, who had carved them in stone so she could trace them, but stone slates were not very practical for international correspondence. Katara recognized the handwriting of Chun, a non-bending girl from Omashu who acted as Toph’s secretary. While Iroh poured himself a cup of tea out of the pot that stood on the heater in the corner, Katara sat down on the edge of the desk and opened the letter.

Hi Sugar Queen,
How are you doing there in that boiling hot country? Not melted yet? Hope Mai’s being nice to you. How is she doing? I heard news that she’d been healed, but now Iroh told me she’s worse again. But it’s nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.
Anyway, I hope you’re not too upset about Aang. I know you told me you were over it, but still, after all those years of trying it must be hard for you to hear the news that he’s going to be a father---
Katara almost dropped the letter.
“Iroh.” Her voice was shaky.
“Yes?” the old man said, putting down his cup.
“Am I reading this right?” she asked, and held up the paper. Iroh cast a quick glance at the letter, and when she saw him catch his breath, she knew enough.
“So it’s true?”
Iroh looked as if he was weighing his words very carefully. “The news reached Ba Sing Se about two weeks ago…”
“You mean you knew?!” Katara gasped.
“I didn’t realize you hadn’t heard it yet,” Iroh said. “Zuko said-”
“Zuko knew? So everyone knew and nobody thought about telling me?”
“Now Katara, I don’t think…” but Iroh’s words were lost on her. She crumpled up the paper and hurried out of the office, almost bumping into Zuko in the doorframe. She cast one look at him with flaming eyes, then stormed off. Zuko blinked and looked at Iroh, pure confusion on his face. His uncle sighed.
“You might have wanted to inform me beforehand that you hadn’t told her about the Avatar’s recent engagement,” he said. Zuko’s eyes went wide.
“Shit.”
He turned around immediately and ran after Katara.

Katara sat on the wooden veranda that formed the end of the northern corridor, staring out over the quiet stone garden. The heat made the air vibrate above the pebbles. Toph’s letter lay crumpled beside her. She’d read the rest of it, but somehow the words didn’t seem to have sunken in yet. She hugged her knees that were drawn to her chest. Footsteps approached. She didn’t look up. Even when Zuko sat down on his knees beside her, she kept staring blankly at the garden.
“I know you’re upset,” he said. She remained silent. He tried again: “Look…”
She turned to him then, and asked in a pained voice: “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He stuttered something incoherent.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Zuko? Did you think I couldn’t handle it? That I was too weak to face the truth?”
“I didn’t want you to feel bad,” he said defensively. She snorted. “Right.”
“You had just told me why you split up, I’d seen you cry about it, and I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”
“So you were just planning to never tell me?”
“I was waiting for the right moment!”
“And when would that have been?”
He sighed deeply and shrugged. “It just didn’t seem right.”
She stood up brusquely. “I know exactly why you didn’t tell me. You only think about yourself. Your own problems were more important to you. You just loved the attention and care you got from me because I pitied you, and you didn’t want me to think about other things.”
Zuko paled, and the only thing he could bring out was: “You… pitied me?”
“Yes,” she narrowed her eyes. “I pity you. You chose the easy path, the path everyone expected of you, thinking it would cause you the least trouble, and still you are unhappy. You’re weak. Serves you right that it’s all falling apart now.”
Zuko’s good ear turned a deep red and he frowned. “You don’t mean that.”
“You’re so self-centered! Have you ever even thought about what other people might feel? What I might feel?”
“This isn’t about Aang anymore, is it?”
She clenched her jaw. Unable to reply, she turned around and walked away. Her footsteps were heavy on the wooden floors. Zuko stared at the corner she’d disappeared around. Maybe she just needed time. But her words stung nonetheless.

Chapter Text

After crying some more in the privacy of her own room, Katara smoothed her hair and washed her face. Her initial shock and sadness were over, but now confusion and anger battled for dominance inside her. She needed clarification, so she would have to swallow her pride and go back to the persons who could give it. She wasn’t ready to face Zuko again, so she asked a chamber maid where Iroh was. The woman led her to the tea pavilion that had once belonged to Fire Lord Azulon, bowed and left.
Quietly Katara opened the sliding door and blushed when she saw Iroh looking up with a smile. He sat comfortably cross-legged on the mats with a volume of poetry in his hands and a tea kettle boiling in front of him. The scent of the tea mingled with that of the fresh flowers in the corner and created a wonderfully peaceful atmosphere. Katara bowed deeply.
“I apologize for getting upset earlier,” she said. Iroh put down his book and patted the ground next to him.
“Don’t worry about it. I understand. Zuko should have warned me.”
She sat down and accepted the cup he handed her.
“I just don’t get it. How come everyone knew and nobody cared to tell me?”
“I figure Zuko had reasons he thought valid.”
“He said he didn’t want to upset me,” Katara sighed. “I’m not sure if I believe that.”
“Why would you not believe it?”
She bit her lip. Carefully choosing her words, she said: “I think he would benefit from it, if I wasn’t distracted by worries of my own and could focus on him and Mai completely.”
“I think I understand,” Iroh nodded. “But I’m sure you know my nephew better than that. His sense of honour is too big to willfully mislead you for his own benefit.”
She looked at the floor. “I suppose you’re right about that. I don’t think he did it on purpose, really…” She took a sip of her tea and allowed the warm drink to relax her.
“So even if I believe that Zuko didn’t tell me to spare my feelings, why didn’t Sokka or Suki or my father even mention it? They didn’t keep Suki’s new pregnancy a secret from me, so why would they remain silent about Aang? Did they think it would be too sensitive a topic?”
“When did you receive the letters from the South Pole?”
“I read them when I came back yesterday. They probably arrived here when I was at Mai’s parents’ estate.”
“Mail to and from the South Pole takes a long time, you know that. The news reached Ba Sing Se two weeks ago, so I guess it reached the South Pole about a week later. Their letters must have been sent before they had heard about it.”
Katara slapped her forehead. “Of course. I’ve been so upset that I completely forgot how to count.”
“So, you can be assured that no one has been wilfully keeping secrets from you,” Iroh smiled. Katara nodded, starting to feel ashamed of herself.
“Could you clarify a few things for me, Iroh?” she asked. “I didn’t fully understand Toph’s letter.”
“Of course. What is unclear?”
“The only thing she mentioned is that Aang is going to be a father, but without any details. Could you tell me what more you know?”
Iroh swirled the tea in his cup around. “Now, you must realize that I, too, am dependent on the news that came to Ba Sing Se, but Zuko has been writing to Aang so he probably knows more.”
“I… don’t think I can talk about this with Zuko just yet,” Katara admitted. Iroh hmm-ed understandingly.
“I gather that there are more things you have to work out with him,” he said. Katara coloured deeply. Was there anything this old man didn’t know? But he gave her an encouraging smile.
“I’ll tell you what I know,” he said. “The news I heard is that after you left, the Avatar was inconsolable for a while, but eventually found comfort with a girl from the Air Temple. She is pregnant now and he has made an official announcement a little more than two weeks ago. Gossiping tongues say that she has had an eye on him for years and saw her chance when you were gone. Others say the Avatar only used her to forget you and she got pregnant by accident.”
“People can say such mean things,” Katara sighed. “But what about them, now?”
“Well, Aang has announced the pregnancy to the world with pride and this girl is treated as his fiancée now. But I don’t know if they are planning on getting married soon.”
Katara shook her head. “Air Nomads don’t marry. They’re not even monogamous, traditionally, although Aang wanted to be.”
“How different from the Fire Nation,” Iroh said wistfully. “Marriage can be like a prison here.”
Katara quirked her eyebrows. “How? Isn’t is an expression of love?”
“You’re still young and romantic, Katara,” Iroh said. “Marriage here is not for love. It’s to create a bond between families, beneficial for both sides, and to produce heirs. It has nothing to do with love. We have a saying: when a husband loves his wife, his mother loses her best maid.”
Katara shuddered. “That’s horrible. I know most of your marriages used to be purely political, but I thought that was in the past. Did you feel like a prisoner in your marriage too, then?”
“My wife was a sweet woman and a good mother,” Iroh said with a faint smile. “I loved her as well as I could, especially after she gave me Lu Ten. I regret that we didn’t have more time together. But I’ve seen too many people I care about getting trapped in marriages that didn’t bring them joy.”
“You mean Zuko’s mother?”
“For example.”
“You must be happy then, that Zuko married for love,” she said with half a smile. Iroh raised an eyebrow.
“You say that with conviction.”
“Well, didn’t he?”
Iroh remained silent. He blew on his tea and watched the steam spiral up from the cup.
“I pride myself on knowing my nephew well,” he said, “but sometimes he still makes choices I don’t understand.”
Katara didn’t know what to say. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, and the purple flowers in the corner suddenly seemed very interesting to her.
“Did, uhm… Did he ever talk to you about… well, me?”
“It’s not for me to share that,” Iroh said. “And, given the circumstances, it’s not wise to dwell on the past or what could have been.”
The air seemed to press down on her.
“I’ve told you the same thing in Ba Sing Se, Katara, when we talked about your life with Aang. And I will say again what I said then: there are more ways than one to be happy. You shape your own life.”
Iroh put down his teacup and smiled at her with kind, wrinkled eyes. “But I suggest that you and Zuko have an honest heart-to-heart talk. Whatever feelings might cause barriers between you, your mutual friendship is something the two of you desperately need right now.”
She bowed her head.

On her way to Zuko’s office she was stopped by one of the guards.
“Fire Lady Mai requests your presence on the balcony,” he said. “She said she has an announcement to make. The Fire Lord is there as well and many people have gathered already.”
Katara’s breath caught in her throat. Mai was going to announce the severity of her illness right now! She chastised herself for getting worked up about her own worries when her patient was going through this hardship. She gathered up the skirts of her robe and ran through the palace, to the balcony that overlooked the big plaza.
A little out of breath she joined the royal family just outside the entrance to the balcony. Zuko glanced at her shortly and turned his head away, keeping his hand on Mai’s back. Ty Lee was holding Mai’s arm and looked distressed, but Mai’s face was calm.
“There you are,” she said. “Come. It’s time the people know I’ll be leaving them soon.”
Katara swallowed. She followed them to the balcony with a twist in her stomach. Once she stepped outside she was blinded by the sun for a moment, and shielded her eyes. Then she saw the enormous crowd that had gathered on the plaza and her stomach twisted even further. All these people braved the midday heat to listen to their Fire Lady- for the last time, but they didn’t know that yet. Mai squeezed Ty Lee’s hand quickly and released it, then stepped forward. Zuko kept his eyes on the back of her head, his face like a mask.
“People of the Fire Nation,” Mai started, her voice magnified by the acoustics of the plaza. A cheer went up from the crowd.
“Today I have something difficult to tell you. You know my health has been declining. It is with great sadness that I must announce that I will not be among you for much longer anymore.”
The cheering died down and people looked at each other with confused expressions.
“Although the best healers in the world have tried their hardest,” she gestured to Katara, whose face heated up immediately when she felt hundreds of eyes upon her, “it seems that my disease is one that can’t be healed.”
The crowd was very silent. Mai raised one pale, skinny hand and said: “I want to thank you for your support, people of the Fire Nation, and say goodbye. I will leave this world soon. Please remember me in your prayers.”
Now yells rose up from the crowd. Katara saw the face of one of the council members, Lord Inoue, who had gone completely pale and allowed tears to stream down his cheeks.
“Long live our Fire Lady!” someone yelled, and others joined in. “Long live our Fire Lady! Long live our Fire Lady!” they chanted, and Mai’s face cracked a little. She had great difficulty to keep her composure and turned back to Zuko. Ty Lee wrapped her arm around her, and when they were back in the corridor behind the balcony, Mai buried her face in the nook of her friend’s shoulder. She stayed there for a second, took a deep breath and seemed to regain her calm.
“Well, that’s that,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ll have some servants put up posters throughout the city. Now, Zuko, will you bring me to bed?”
Zuko nodded, and after another short glance at Katara, took his wife’s arm and went away with her. Katara looked at Ty Lee, who stood a little forlorn in the corridor with wet eyes and quivering lips, and she spread her arms without saying anything. Sobbing, Ty Lee threw herself into her arms and cried her heart out on Katara’s shoulder. Katara rubbed the other girl’s back while biting back her own tears.

Chapter Text

She didn’t have a chance to talk to Zuko until late in the evening. He and Mai had held audience after dinner and every single one of the nobles and council members had wanted to speak to them, to offer their respects to the Fire Lady. Lord Inoue in particular seemed very distressed, and Katara wondered if Zuko was aware of his apparent admiration of his wife. It was way past midnight before Katara had finished her evening healing session with Mai and brought her to bed. She felt like she needed a drink stronger than tea before she could sleep. Quietly she made her way to the kitchens. The servants were all asleep and the halls were empty. She snuck into a storage room, looking for a bottle of firewhiskey, sake or baijiu, anything strong, but in the first cupboard she only found shelves full of dried noodles.
She turned to the next cupboard, and immediately ran into a half-empty bottle of baijiu. It wasn’t on a shelf though, but in Zuko’s hands. She gasped.
“Sorry, I didn’t expect you here,” she said quickly, but then she noticed his red eyes and disheveled hair. Had he drunk half of this bottle by himself already?
“A-are you alright?” she asked timidly. He glared at her, unfocused. “Can’t you sssee I’m not?” he slurred. He slumped down the door of the storage room and sat down on the floor. “It’s all my fault,” he said. Katara sat down next to him and took the bottle from his hands.
“What is?”
“Everything!” he said. He vaguely gestured, but dropped his hands again and leaned his head back against the wall. Katara took a large gulp straight out of the bottle and grimaced. Now she remembered how much she hated the taste of it. She took another sip.
“It’s my fault. It’s my fault I married her, it’s my fault she’s unhappy. It’s my fault she’s ill, it’s a punishment of the Spirits for my dishonesty…” Zuko said. “And now she’s gonna die because of me.”
“Stop it, Zuko. That’s nonsense.”
“No it’s not! The universe always punishes me.”
“Don’t assume it has anything to do with you,” Katara said. “You’re being self-centered again. Illness is never justified! If it’s anyone’s fault she’s not getting better, it’s mine…”
“No, you stop it!” Zuko looked at her angrily. “You’re doing everything you can for her! And I…” He rubbed his eyes, “I’m only letting her down, and you too, and Uncle, I’m such a failure…”
Katara took another gulp, then pushed Zuko’s shoulder. “Stop feeling so sorry for yourself!”
He sighed deeply and hung his head. “I should have been honest straight from the start, then none of this would have happened.” Then he rubbed his eyes again and looked at Katara, doing his best to focus.
“Oh, Katara, forgive me- you’re unhappy too and I can only think of myself again.”
She smiled hesitantly. “I was angry with you this morning, but it’s alright. I understand why you didn’t want to tell me. I’m very sorry I lashed out like that. It wasn’t true and you didn’t deserve it.”
“I didn’t want to make you sad, honestly!”
“I believe you.” The sight of the great Fire Lord, with a red face from the alcohol and tiny eyes, hiding in a storage room and crying into a bottle, was extremely endearing. His sash had become untied and his robes fell open, and his hair was a mess. She couldn’t hold back a small smile.
“What I can’t believe though, is that the first proper talk I have with you since… well, since we kissed, is in a cupboard while you are being an emotional drunk,” she said. She downed another gulp of baijiu, feeling her head getting lighter already. She needed a little numbness right now.
“I’m so sorry, Katara,” Zuko said, his eyes wet. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have asked you to come here. I should’ve known I wasn’t strong enough.”
“How could you have known this would happen?” she asked. He leaned over her, supporting himself with a hand on her knee, and brought his face close to hers.
“Because I have loved you,” he whispered, hoarsely and slurring slightly, “ever since we were imprisoned together under Ba Sing Se.”
If she had died of a heart attack right there and then, Katara wouldn’t have been surprised. She took a deep breath to steady herself.
“You’re drunk,” she said, and pushed him away. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“No, I do,” he protested. “And I should have been honest about it. But you’re right- I was weak. I chose the easy path. And look where it got me! Drunk crying in a cupboard,” he laughed bitterly, “while my wife is dying. Fitting.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Katara whispered. “Why did you let me leave with Aang if that’s truly how you felt?”
“But you were in love with Aang!”
“You didn’t know that!”
“It was self-evident! Everybody loved him after Ozai’s defeat. Spirits, even I was a little in love with him then! You both had done so much for me, I thought it would be selfish to come between you.”
“But there was nothing for you to come between! Not then at least, not yet! Didn’t… didn’t that evening on Ember Island mean anything to you?”
He coloured at the memory. “I felt like I didn’t have the right. You were so confused and you’d only recently allowed yourself to trust me. Besides, I hardly knew my own feelings. There was so much going on and I was changing so much myself, that I didn’t want to make any more decisions I might come to regret.”
“You thought you’d come to regret kissing me?” Katara sounded hurt.
Zuko shook his head violently. “No! The only thing I regret is my indecisiveness. I just went with what happened. And really, I’m happy with what I’ve reached and with the family I have, but now that that’s being taken from me… I can’t help but wonder what could’ve been different.”
“I guess we will never know what could have been.” She sighed. “But did you never consider what I might have felt?”
Zuko looked guilty. “I thought I knew. You told Aang you were confused, and I could imagine you didn’t want to fall in love with me- even if I flattered myself that it was possible you could fall in love with me. But I knew how deep your connection with Aang was. I thought I’d never be able to compete with that. Besides, he’s the Avatar! There’s not much topping that! Why would you choose me if you could have him?”
“Is that seriously what you thought? Even after you almost sacrificed yourself for me?”
“Anyone would have done that after what you did for me,” he said quietly. “I owe everything I have to you. You saved my life, and not just when you healed me. You showed me kindness when I thought I deserved none, and forgiveness, and what a family can be, and… all the things to live for. I owe so much happiness to you.”
She reached out to him, pushed his robes aside and traced the scar on his chest.
“You were willing to give your life for me,” she said. “I think I loved you from then on, even if I didn’t realize it until a few days ago.”
“I couldn’t lose you. I’d do it again, with no hesitation.”
She gazed into his eyes, his golden eyes that couldn’t lie, and leaned closer to him.
“Can we pretend the last thirteen years never happened?” she asked. “I want to forget everything right now.”
He wrapped his arm around her. “Because of the news about Aang?”
“I don’t want to think about that,” Katara said, and took another large gulp. She put the bottle down and climbed on Zuko’s lap, one leg on each side of him. “Please, let me be selfish, just for now…”
She leaned over him, felt his warm breath and her heart seemed to almost jump out of her chest. She parted her lips, but Zuko turned his face away. He placed a hand on her shoulder and swallowed, trying to focus.
“Katara, I want nothing more. But I can never look at myself again if I do this now. Please… understand.”
Wrong timing. Always the wrong timing. If Aang and Iroh had arrived in the Crystal Catacombs ten minutes later, she would’ve healed his scar and he would’ve come with her. If she had told him how she felt right after their last battle with Azula, he would never have gotten back with Mai. If she had… but it didn’t do. She could lament all she wanted, but apparently it wasn’t meant to be. Not then, and not now.
She lowered her head. “I love you, Zuko. And I admire you even more for standing by your principles,” she said, and she meant it. He reached up to her face, his hand trembling, and she read the intense desire in his eyes and the intense effort to suppress it.
He touched her cheek, and she grabbed his hand. He squeezed it tightly. Then he took a deep breath and said: “It’s better this way.”
“Yes… yes, it is,” she said, and blinked away her tears. He pressed his forehead against hers and held both her shoulders. Their breath mingled for a second.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said, and the tension broke. He tried to stand up. She helped him, almost stumbling over her own feet. “I’ll bring you to your room.”
“I think it’s better if you don’t,” Katara said and started to giggle despite herself. “If the guards see us like this…”
“I don’t care what the guards think,” he protested, but she shook her head.
“Yes, you do. Tomorrow morning you will, in any case.”
“Why are you so smart?” he asked, and playfully pushed her shoulder. She lost her balance and they almost tumbled back into the cupboard together.
“Shh!” she said. “Be careful!”
“You would’ve been a wonderful Fire Lady,” Zuko said, smiling in a way that reminded Katara of her brother whenever he looked at Suki.
“You’re really very drunk,” she reprimanded him.
“I mean it!” he sputtered, but let her drag him away from the storage rooms. She gave him a nudge in the direction of his office, and said: “Let’s have a proper talk tomorrow, when we’re sober.”
“Yeah, good idea. Good night, Katara,” he mumbled.
“’Night, Zuko. Sleep well.” She watched him stagger down the hall. When he’d gone round the corner she made her way to her own room, bee-lining through the corridors and not walking quite as silently as she would usually do, and fell down heavily on her bed when she finally reached it. She buried her face in her pillow and sighed deeply.
He loved her. He’d loved her as long as she had loved him, or maybe even longer. Even if the world ended tomorrow, she would die happily. Her jealousy of Aang and guilt over Mai had hidden in a faraway corner of her mind, and she fell asleep with a smile.

Chapter Text

The heat lay like a blanket on the garden. The air seemed to throb and the branches of the trees, heavy with leaves, swayed slightly under the weight of the hot, humid air. Mai sat on a lounge chair in the shadow of a tree. At first a maid had fanned her, but she had become irritated with the girl and sent her away. Now she was languidly watching Hanabi and Ty Lee play in the pond and eating blueberries that Katara had covered in ice. Katara lay on her stomach on the grass at the edge of the water and was amusing herself by creating waves in the pond, to Hanabi’s immense pleasure. The girl tried to jump over each wave, splashing herself in the process. Ty Lee nimbly somersaulted out of the water and started doing stretching exercises on the grass. Now and then Katara waved her hand slightly to refresh the ice on the bowl of fruit that stood between her and Mai. A sheen of white crystals formed over the blueberries, and both Mai and Katara’s fingertips were stained purple by their juices. Katara felt the heat press down on her, and even her light linen dress stuck to her skin. She had tied up her hair in an unruly bun on the top of her head, unable to bear any strands touching her neck.
Hanabi jumped out of the pond, causing a disgruntled quack from a few turtleducks.
“There’s daddy!” she exclaimed, and ran towards him. Mai slowly rolled her head to face Katara.
“I don’t understand how she can run in this heat,” she said, the words seemingly coming out with great effort.
“Ah, the power of youth,” Katara smiled. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched Zuko approach, who was trying to avoid getting his clothes smudged by the soaking wet Hanabi. He was followed by two secretaries, but he dismissed them with a slight bow before joining the women at the pond. He took off his mantle and the pointy shoulderpieces and threw them down on the grass. He plopped down with a sigh, crossed his legs and said:
“I gave the ministers the afternoon off. No one could concentrate and after a few hours the smell of sweat just became too much…”
Katara crinkled her nose at him. “You’re practically steaming yourself,” she said. He laughed, cupped some water from the pond in his hand and let it evaporate.
“There you have your steam,” he said.
“I’m surprised there’s even water left in the pond,” Katara said, resting her head on her arms that she folded as a pillow under her chin.
“These days are the worst,” Zuko said. He turned to Mai. “How are you feeling?”
She shrugged. “I’m okay. These berries aren’t half bad, although they’re making me purple,” she said, showing Zuko the stains on her fingers.
“Oh, that looks great,” he said, watching Katara cast a fresh layer of ice on the fruit. “I remember you used to do that.”
She smiled. “Yes. It’s a desperate measure. I’d forgotten how insanely hot the summers here are.”
“Well, we had an excellent remedy for that on Ember Island,” Zuko said. Katara’s eyes began to sparkle.
“The beach! That was so much fun!”
Ty Lee had finished her stretches and sat down beside Mai. “I wouldn’t mind a visit to the beach now,” she said, wiping the sweat off her forehead with her arm. “Or better yet, the South Pole!”
“Here, take some of these,” Mai said, and held out the bowl of frozen berries to her friend. Ty Lee took some and her eyes went wide.
“That’s delicious!”
Zuko turned to Katara. “Could you join me and Uncle in my office? We need to discuss some things about the irrigation project.”
“Sure,” she nodded. “Now?”
“I think Uncle is still reading historical romances in the library, but we can go pick him up,” Zuko smiled. Katara looked back at the people under the tree. Mai lay back on her chair and shared the berries with Ty Lee, while they watched Hanabi play in the grass. Katara turned back to Zuko. “I don’t think they’ll miss us here,” she said. “Let’s go.”
They stood up and strolled through the garden, back into the direction of the palace.
“Don’t you have a hangover?” Katara asked with a slight smile. Zuko closed his eyes and sighed. “Terrible. I’m getting too old for late-night drinking.”
She laughed.
“Luckily my ministers are even older and they’re all suffering from the heat, so I wasn’t the only one with a headache in the throne room,” he laughed as well. She commanded a small stream up from the brook that flowed through the garden, and let it wrap around her hand like a glove. She touched Zuko’s temple with the glowing water and he immediately let out a sigh of relief.
“I know your healing has saved the world on numerous occasions, but I think I never appreciated it more than I do right now.”
“You’re silly,” she said, still laughing. She felt at ease with him again. The alcohol-fueled confessions of last night had cleared the air between them.
“So, I think we have some things to talk about,” she said in a business-like manner. He slowly nodded. “Yeah. I should tell you what I heard from Aang,” he said. “I’ve got his letters in my office. Let’s go there before getting Uncle.”
She followed him inside, grateful to get out of the blazing sun. In his office, Zuko rummaged through his lacquered letterbox.
“Here,” he said, pulling out some scrolls. “That’s my correspondence with Aang from the last month.”
“I thought you said you weren’t writing with him that much anymore,” Katara asked.
“I wasn’t, but when I wrote to him about Mai and you told me it was okay to mention that you were here, he wrote back very quickly. We’ve been corresponding more frequently since then.”
“Oh. That’s… good, I guess.”
Zuko smiled. “It is good. I’ve missed him.”
Katara looked at the ground. “It feels really weird to say it, but I miss him too. Is that… wrong?”
He looked at her empathically and put an arm around her shoulders. “No Katara, it’s not. You were together for so long! And you weren’t just lovers, you were best friends before that.”
Katara nodded. “I do miss how he could make me laugh.”
Zuko nudged her. “Sorry I’m so boring then,” he said, and she smiled. “Just kidding. But it’s a good thing if you can move on from the bitterness of your breakup and find a way of being friends again.”
She sighed. “That’s going to take a while. But I’m ready to try.”
“Good. Now, here’s his latest letter,” Zuko said. “It’ll make everything a lot clearer.” Katara took it and unrolled the scroll, reading it while leaning against the desk.

Flameo Fire Lord!

How’s Mai doing now? I’m sure Katara will have her healed in no time. It’s a good thing you asked her. Thanks for taking care of her. I understand that she’s not ready to talk with me again, and to be honest I don’t think I am, either. We’ve been a little too hard on each other and we didn’t part on good terms. I think we both need time to heal and move on. But I’m happy that she’s with you, I know you’ll take good care of her.
There’s something I want to tell you before I announce it officially, and I want to ask you to please not tell Katara until you think she’s ready. I’m actually really, really excited and happy, because: I’m going to be a father!

Here, Katara had to put down the letter for a moment. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and continued.

Do you remember Shanti? She’s a descendant of the Air Nomads who used to live in hiding in the Fire Nation. I think you must’ve met her when you last visited the Eastern Air Temple, she’s been living here for years. Though I can imagine you don’t remember everyone you’ve met here! She actually studied herbal medicine with Katara and since Kat’s gone, she’s been our main healer. Anyway- she’s really sweet and she’s been a great support for me the past year, and, well… Last month we found out she’s pregnant. Apparently, with twins! I can’t tell you how excited I am. She’s due coming winter. You really should visit the Temple again when they’re born!

Although the letter went on, Katara stopped reading and rolled up the scroll again. She felt like that was all she could manage for now.
“Well. That explains things. I’m… happy for him, I think?” She looked at Zuko as if she needed his approval before she could sort out her feelings. He took the scroll from her hand and put it back in the box.
“It’s okay to be confused about your feelings, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to know everything clearly immediately.”
“Yeah…”
She leaned against the desk and stared at the calligraphy on his wall. All under heaven are guided by one. One. It still amazed her how the simplest character could have so much meaning. A single straight line, a bridge between worlds.
“A silver coin for your thoughts,” Zuko said. She smiled. “Not even your crown could bribe me, Fire Lord,” she retorted. He laughed. “Ha! Don’t tempt me.”
He put the lacquered box away and said: “So do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “Not now. I think I need to let it sink in.”
“Okay. I’ll get Uncle from the library then, so we can discuss the irrigation project.”
“I thought that was just an excuse,” she laughed. He shook his finger at her.
“No, Katara. No matter the mess in our personal lives, there is still a country that needs to be ruled,” he said in jest, but with a serious undertone. He knew what he was talking about. She nodded and he left the room. As soon as the door was closed, the smile fell off her face. She stared at her hands that leaned on the desk and studied the lines in the wood. Before she knew it, a large drop splashed on the surface. Her breath became ragged and she allowed more tears to fall. After a minute of sobbing, she rubbed her face with her sleeve and straightened her back.
“Spirits, Katara,” she mumbled to herself. “Is crying really the only thing you’re capable of nowadays?” She took a deep breath and tried to calm her mind. Yes, it was bitter and painful that Aang had found the happiness she hadn’t been able to give him with someone else. On the other hand she did not begrudge him that, she wanted him to be happy. But her own childlessness stung all the more. She scoffed at the papers with irrigation plans that were spread out on the desk. Barren land, barren like herself, but at least the land could be brought back to life. She would be forever infertile.
She heard footsteps approach, and when Zuko and Iroh entered, she met them with a smile.

Chapter Text

Suddenly, everything happened very quickly. While in the middle of writing an answer to Sokka’s letter, Katara was disturbed by quick footsteps and loud banging on her door. It was drawn open before she reached it.
“Master Katara, come quickly!” Sen the chambermaid exclaimed with tear-brimmed eyes. “The Fire Lady has collapsed!”
Her brush dropped to the ground and Katara ran along the corridors, Sen heavily panting behind her. She stumbled into Mai’s bedroom, where two other maids and a guard just carefully lifted Mai’s limp body onto the bed.
“Water, bring me water!” Katara yelled at one of the maids. The woman disappeared with a frightened face. Katara immediately loosened Mai’s collar and checked her heartbeat. Her breathing was very shallow and her pulse weak, but it was still there.
“Get Zuko,” she said to Sen. The girl nodded, completely pale, and ran out of the room again. Katara beckoned the guard to help her stretch out Mai’s legs, and the other maid placed a pillow under her Lady’s head. Katara thought she noticed the woman’s lips quivering, but she didn’t say anything. The first maid returned, carrying a bucket full of water that seemed to have come straight from the cleaning staff.
“Perfect,” Katara said, and plunged her hands into it. She forcefully commanded Mai’s chi to flow, her heart to beat, her lungs to swell.
Mai coughed. She slowly opened her eyes and made a futile attempt to sit up. The two maids supported her immediately, but she ignored them.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said when she recognized Katara. She allowed the healer to touch her forehead with water, and closed her eyes again. She heavily fell back into the pillow.
“It’s over, Katara,” she whispered. “I’m done.”
Katara bit her lip. “I’ll fight for you, Mai, as long as I can.”
“Please don’t. I don’t want to drag it out any longer. I’m ready.”
Before Katara could answer the door was thrown open with a loud bang.
“Where is she?!” Zuko yelled, barging into the room. Katara quickly turned around to shush him, but it wasn’t necessary. As soon as he saw Mai he fell quiet and knelt at her side immediately. Ty Lee and Hanabi appeared in the doorframe, their eyes big and frightened. The maids and the guard understood that they were superfluous and disappeared quietly.
“Mommy? Are you alright?” Hanabi asked. Mai strenuously sat up, while Zuko supported her.
“Come, sweetie,” she said. “Time to say goodbye.”
“No!” Hanabi shrieked. She ran to the bed and jumped on top of it, throwing her arms around Mai’s neck. “You can’t go, mommy!”
Mai weakly tried to pry Hanabi’s hands loose. “Let go, sweetie, that hurts,” she said. Hanabi started to cry and only held on tighter. “No mommy, no, don’t go! Don’t leave me!” Zuko grabbed her hands and pulled them away from Mai, and picked her up. He held her very close against him and she buried her face in his chest, crying loudly. With his arms wrapped around his daughter he turned to leave the room, only looking back over his shoulder to say: “Call me back when you’re ready.” Katara nodded and turned back to Mai. Ty Lee sat next to the bed and held one of her hands, pressing it against her cheek without saying anything. Mai smiled weakly at her. Her breath was shallow and strained. Her other pale, bony hand lay limply on the sheets. She seemed only a ghost of herself.
“This is it, then, I guess,” she said. “Goodbye, Katara. Thanks for everything.”
Katara shook her head. “Don’t thank me. I’m not sure how to say it,” she started, hesitant. “But I- I need you to know…”
Mai raised her hand. “I already know.”
Katara blinked. “What?”
“I’m not stupid, Katara. I knew you liked him, even back then.”
“But- why did you-”
“Because he was mine, and I wasn’t about to share,” Mai said. She sighed, her breath rasping, and squeezed Ty Lee’s hand. “But what does that all matter, really, in the grand scheme of things?”
Katara plucked at the skin around her thumb’s nail. Mai turned her head and looked at her, her half-open silver eyes still sharp. “Take care of him, Katara. Take care of Hanabi, and of Zuko, please. They need you.”
Katara swallowed, then nodded. “I will.”
“Good.” Mai closed her eyes and leaned back into the pillow. “You can let Zuko back in now. I want to say goodbye.”
Katara turned around and quietly left the room.
Outside in the corridor she found Zuko, sitting on the floor with his arms around a still inconsolable Hanabi. She touched his shoulder. He looked up and wordlessly handed his daughter to her. Katara sat down on her knees, pressed the crying child close against her and slowly rocked back and forth, not sure who was comforting whom anymore.

Zuko entered the room again. He was by Mai’s bedside in two steps. His jaw was clenched and he almost couldn’t speak. The only thing he could bring out was a stammered:
“I’m sorry, Mai, I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t be,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m ready.”
He leaned over the bed and pressed his forehead to hers. Grasping her hand, he said: “I failed you, Mai. I wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t strong enough...”
“This has nothing to do with you,” she said, brushing his hair out of his face. “It’s bad luck, that’s all.”
“I didn’t give you what you deserved,” he said, his voice thick. “How can you ever forgive me?”
“There’s nothing for me to forgive,” Mai said. Zuko violently shook his head. “You don’t know-!”
“Oh, shut up,” she cut him off. “I do know. But it’s alright. You know, I was prepared to die to save you. Maybe I’m just fulfilling that promise now. I would’ve done so gladly. Because I loved you. And Ty Lee…” she looked to her side and smiled at her friend, who answered her gaze with wide wet eyes. “You would’ve died in order to save me.”
Ty Lee’s lips quivered. “I’d do it a hundred times over,” she said breathlessly. “I’d do it now if I could.”
Mai pressed her hand and smiled weakly. “I know.” The two women looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then Mai turned back to her husband. “But you, Zuko… No. When you threw yourself in front of that lightning, blindly and without hesitation, it wasn’t for me.”
Zuko pressed his eyes shut, his face full of pain.
“Mai… I’ve loved you Mai, honestly, you’ve given me a family, you were…”
“Shh. I had everything I ever wanted in this life, and you gave it to me. I’ve been happy. So thank you.”
He clutched her hand, his knuckles white.
“Be happy, Zuko. You deserve to be. Don’t get stuck in mourning and self-pity. Let Katara take care of you.”
He tenderly caressed her cheek, stroking the backsides of his fingers over her pale skin. “I love you, Mai.”
“And I love you,” she whispered. “Good bye.”
He blinked and the tears rolled down his face. “Good bye,” he managed to say, his throat thick. Mai closed her eyes and pulled Ty Lee’s hand closer. Ty Lee gave an almost guilty look to Zuko, but directed her teary eyes at her friend’s face again immediately. She softly stroked her hair. Zuko held onto Mai’s other hand, staring at the bedsheets.

After about half an hour, a quiet sobbing could be heard. Zuko stepped back into the corridor and cast a look down at Katara, who was still holding Hanabi. He seemed barely able to hold himself together. Reluctantly Katara freed her arms from Hanabi’s grip, and Zuko wordlessly took over his daughter. She stood up, carefully shook out her sleeping legs and followed him through the door. When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see Ty Lee’s form bent over the bed. She was still holding Mai’s hands, but Mai’s pale face was waxy and expressionless.
Ty Lee kept her face pressed against Mai’s hands when Katara approached and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“She’s not breathing anymore,” she said between quiet sobs. Almost mechanically Katara checked for a pulse, but found none.
“I’ll ask the maids to help us,” she said flatly. The inevitable had finally happened. Mai had crossed over to the Spirit World.

Chapter Text

Mai’s body lay on display to the nation for three days. Katara thought the tradition was nothing more than torture for the bereaved, but the citizens made a big show of their grief and she guessed they found a form of comfort in it. Zuko stood next to the open coffin, his face a stony mask. He answered everyone’s condolences politely but his mind seemed completely absent. If it hadn’t been for his Uncle’s comforting presence next to him, Katara was sure he wouldn’t have been able to face anyone. Hanabi’s young age excused her from the formal parading that she wouldn’t have been able to endure. She spent most of her time with Katara and Ty Lee, who also weren’t allowed to be present due to their lack of royal blood.
Finally, on the evening of the third day, a funeral pyre was lit on the golden balcony and Zuko held Hanabi’s hand as they knelt together before the Fire Sages. He stared at his knees, clad in the white mourning robes, and thought back on the last royal funeral he’d attended. Not his father’s or Azula’s, their bodies had been burned without ceremony in the backyard of the prison. No, he thought about his grandfather Azulon’s funeral. After that day he’d had to live without his mother, just as Hanabi would have to live without hers from now on. But at least Hanabi knew what had happened to her, and she wouldn’t have to spend years guessing, and long nights of laborious searching in the archives to find out the truth. Because yes, Zuko had found his mother eventually, although it was nothing like he had imagined. Endless research had finally revealed the events of that fateful night in a few summary words. His mother, who had been his whole universe, who had taught him everything he knew, had been reduced to a small footnote scrawled in the executioner’s journal. She had offered herself instead of her son- but not before taking her father-in-law with her. When Azulon’s body burned, so did hers, but not on a golden balcony. She had ended in a prison’s morgue. Even the last words his father had said to him had been lies, efforts to manipulate him.
What did it matter now? They were all dead, anyway. Zuko watched the flames of his wife’s pyre and held his daughter’s hand tightly. When the fire reached up to the roof of the palace, the heat of the late summer finally succumbed to the storm that had been brewing for days, and lightning shot across the sky with a loud crack. On the other side of the pyre, Ty Lee shuddered.

While the rain washed down on the hundreds of attendants making their way back to the city, Katara bended an umbrella over her and Ty Lee. She watched Iroh, Zuko and Hanabi come down from the balcony with big, concerned eyes. As soon as they were out of sight of the masses, Zuko placed Hanabi’s hand in Iroh’s and pulled the crown out of his hair. He handed it to Katara while avoiding her eyes.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said to his Uncle.
Katara watched his tensed back disappear in the rain, and felt Iroh’s hand at her elbow.
“My nephew needs some time alone,” he said. “Allow him that.”
She nodded, and clutched the crown tightly in her hand.

The rain streamed down Zuko’s face, mingling with his tears.
“Why do you keep taking everything away from me?!” he shouted to the sky. He stood on a mountaintop just outside the capital. Beneath him he faintly saw the lights of the city, but up here everything was dark. Thunder cracked.
“Just when I was finally happy?! What have I done to deserve this?!”
He clenched his fists. He knew what he had done. He had not been honest, he had deceived both himself and Mai. And now she was dead! It would only be fitting to get struck by lightning and join her. He already knew what it felt like, anyway. That hellish hot electricity crashing through his body, the blue light, Azula’s laughter, Katara’s scream… Mai had known all along! That he loved Katara more than his own life- she’d realized it even before he did himself! How could she have been content with a marriage when she knew her husband didn’t love her?
He shook his head. No. He had loved Mai, he really had. He just should have realized sooner that they weren’t fit for each other. How different could everything have been? The wind pulled at his mantle and he shivered. Another lightning bolt split the sky. Was Azula laughing at his misery? Or was this her way of welcoming her old friend to the afterlife? Was she inviting him to join them?
Zuko wondered who would be welcoming him when he died, now that his wife and most of his family members were already in the Spirit World. He remembered his mother with a bittersweet smile, but shuddered at the thought of seeing his father or sister again. They had been dead for years, but he still felt a jolt of adrenaline whenever he imagined them. Despite the millions of people wishing for their death after the war, he and Aang had agreed to let them live. But their noble efforts were thwarted by the subjects themselves. Ozai decided that an honourless life in prison was unbearable, assaulted his guards and threw himself on one of their swords in the struggle that followed. The next morning they found Azula’s cold body face down on the floor of her cell. She’d bitten her tongue. Katara had been waiting for the full moon in the hope that it would allow her to heal Azula’s mind, but now she’d never get the chance.
Maybe they thought they would keep their honour this way. But Zuko had stared at their limp bodies on the prison morgue’s pyre and felt cold to his bones. There was no honour in death. There was only sadness, anger and bitter regret.
He did not beg to be struck anymore. He had a daughter to care for, a country to rule. He had his Uncle who loved him. And Katara… he thought about Mai’s words. Don’t get stuck in self-pity. She had been right. It wasn’t wrong to want to live, to want to be happy. And he knew he could be happy again, if only he allowed himself time.
He pulled his mantle closer around him and turned back to the city.

Meanwhile at the palace, Katara was doing her best to calm down a very upset princess. Hanabi had taken the kris dagger she had gotten from Mai and clung to it as if it was her mother’s hand. She shouted through her tears: “Bring me to mommy! I want to see her!”
“I wish I could, sweetie,” Katara pleaded, “but mommy is gone. We can’t see her anymore.”
“Bring her back!” Hanabi shrieked, stomping her feet. Katara knelt down in front of her and vainly tried to take the dagger from her hands.
“Careful sweetie, you’ll hurt yourself.”
“I don’t care! I want my mommy!” Hanabi shouted. Katara had never seen the girl so angry. Sad or upset, yes, but never outright angry. Still in her white mourning robes she clutched the kris in her hands, the rubies on its handle gleaming in a menacing way. Again Katara wondered what on earth Mai had thought when she gave her daughter a very sharp, very dangerous weapon as a present.
“Hanabi, sweetie,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm and authoritative. Where was Ty Lee now? Where was Iroh? And where, for the Spirits’ sake, was Zuko? “Put your kris down and listen to me.”
“No!” Hanabi shrieked, swung her kris, and flames danced over the blade. Katara’s eyes grew wide as she watched the fire burst from Hanabi’s hands and lick along the metal curves of the dagger. A door fell shut behind her. She quickly turned around, just in time to see Iroh and Zuko standing in the doorframe with shocked expressions. Zuko stared at his daughter for one moment, then whirled around and hurriedly left the room. Hanabi herself seemed shocked at her newfound ability, too. She gazed at the dagger in her hands, watching the flames die out. Iroh quickly walked up to her and knelt down. He gently took the dagger from her hands.
“I think that’s enough, don’t you agree?” he said. Hanabi had a guilty look on her face, and she stared at the door through which her father had disappeared.
“Is daddy angry?” she asked in a small voice. All her rage had faded away.
“No, dear,” Iroh said. “Daddy is only sad and confused, just like you.”
Katara nodded. “We all are,” she added. “Come.” She spread out her arms and Hanabi came to her, engulfing her in a hug.
“It’s okay to be sad. We all miss your mommy. But I’ll be here to take care of you.”
“Please stay here. Don’t leave me too, auntie,” Hanabi mumbled. Katara stroked her back and remembered her vow to Mai. She whispered: “I promise.”

“Zuko! Nephew, wait,” Iroh called, panting as he tried to catch up with his nephew. Zuko kept walking through the dark over the garden path, ignoring the rain that had completely soaked his white robes already. Just as Iroh had caught up with him, he turned around.
“She’s bending!” he said, gesturing wildly. “Firebending!”
“Well, it would've been a surprise if she turned out to be an airbender after all,” Iroh said, resting his hands on his knees while trying to catch his breath.
“Don’t joke now! It is a surprise! We thought she couldn’t bend!”
“I already told you, you were too soon with your conclusions. Not everyone starts at the same age. Five is still quite young, mind you!”
“But why now? If only Mai could’ve seen it… She wanted her to be a bender so badly!”
“Parental love should not be based on bending ability,” Iroh said sternly. “You of all people should know!”
“I do, and I did not agree with Mai. But it would’ve made her so happy!”
“Whether or not it would have, it’s no use wondering about that now. Mai is gone, but you have a daughter right here who is very much alive, and very confused too. She needs you. She will need guidance in her bending, but most of all she needs the love of her father right now.”
Zuko stared at the ground and nodded. “You’re right, Uncle. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You need time to work through your own grief. But don’t let it swallow you up. There are others who need you, and that will help you overcome it.”
Zuko looked up at the older man. “Like I needed you, when you lost Lu Ten.”
Iroh closed his eyes. He remembered them, twenty years ago: the motherless prince and the childless general. How badly they had needed each other.
Zuko wrapped his arms around his uncle and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Uncle. I love you.”
“And I love you, my dear nephew. I’ll always be here for you.”

Katara finished her letter to Sokka. It still seemed unreal to write down those words: Mai has passed away. She sealed the scroll and gave it to a guard to post, then returned to her room and took the hairpins out of her hair. She ran her hands through the long brown tresses and sighed. Her work was done. She had been summoned here to heal Mai, and she had failed. Now what? When would Zuko ask her to leave? Even if he was too polite to say so, she knew she wasn’t supposed to stay. But her promise to Mai still nagged at her. She had vowed to take care of Hanabi and Zuko. But how could she do that? She didn’t feel like becoming a nanny of sorts, and staying near Zuko would only complicate things.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.
“Come in,” she called, and the door slid open. The subject of her thoughts stepped inside.
“Zuko!” She couldn’t hide her surprise. His robes were still wet from the rain and she resisted the urge to bend the water off him.
“I brought Hanabi to bed,” she said. “She’s… calm now. As much as she can be.”
”I’ll take care of her tomorrow,” he said. “Thanks for doing what I should’ve done, today.”
She shook her head. “Don’t feel guilty. You have your own grief to worry about. How do you feel?”
He ran a hand through his loose hair. “Miserable, to be honest. But I’ll manage.”
She stepped closer. “I’m here for you, you know that. If you want to talk.”
“Thank you,” he said, and cracked a small smile. “I already had a good talk with Uncle just now. But… keep the offer open, if you will.”
“Of course.” She didn’t really know where to look, so she focused on the golden embroidery on his pointy shoulder pieces.
“I think you still have my crown,” he said after a few seconds of silence.
“Oh! Yes,” she answered, and turned to her desk. The crown lay next to her hairpins on a blank piece of paper. She picked it up in both hands and extended it to him. He reached for it and wrapped his hands around hers, while she was still holding the jewel. The gold was smooth and cool, a strong contrast to Zuko’s calloused, warm hands.
He looked at her, long, without saying anything. His eyes said enough. She looked back and understood everything that he couldn’t put in words.
After minutes, she pressed the crown into his hands and smiled. “Go to bed,” she said gently. He answered her smile timidly.
“Thank you,” he said again. She inclined her head, and he left her room.

Chapter Text

“I’m going back to Kyoshi Island,” Ty Lee announced the next day at breakfast. All others looked up in surprise.
“You’re very welcome to stay here, you know,” Zuko said immediately. She shook her head with a small smile.
“I know, and thank you. But I want to go back. I need a change of scenery.”
“We understand,” Katara said, and put a hand on her arm. “But we’ll miss you.” Hanabi and Iroh voiced their agreement.
“Oh, I’ll miss you too,” Ty Lee said, and pulled Hanabi closer to hug her. “Keep practicing those moves, okay?” she said. The girl nodded fervently.
“I’ll ask daddy if we can go to Kyoshi Island sometime. Daddy, can we?”
“Sure,” Zuko said. Hanabi beamed and she and Ty Lee exchanged smiles.
“By the way, sweetie,” Zuko said to his daughter, “I’ll show you how to use your kris today. And maybe some firebending as well, if you want to.”
Hanabi’s eyes grew round as soup bowls. “Really?!”
She ran up to Zuko and engulfed him in a hug. In her excitement she knocked the teapot off the table. Iroh was just in time to catch it- he sighed with relief.

After they’d all waved goodbye to Ty Lee at the docks, Katara sat next to Iroh in the shade of the veranda next to the dojo, a low table with tea things between them. They watched as Zuko showed Hanabi the correct way to hold her dagger. The two of them stood barefoot on the mats in the dojo, dressed in simple training clothes.
“What do you think triggered her firebending yesterday?” Katara asked in a low voice. The old man answered: “I’m not sure. Strong emotions always play a role in bending, so it might have been her anger.”
“I have never seen her that upset before,” Katara agreed. “And I know Zuko used to rely heavily on his anger with bending, too.”
Iroh nodded. “But that isn’t a reliable source,” he said. “If it is the case, she has a lot of work to do.”
“What did you think of the way the dagger caught fire?”
Iroh slowly stroked his beard. “I know about firebenders who use flaming swords,” he said pensively. “There have been remarkable heroes with that technique in the past. Zuko can do it, too.” Katara remembered his nephew, dressed in all black, a dark ghost with flaming dual blades. She blew on her tea, even though it wasn’t hot.
“That kris bothers me,” she admitted. “It’s… there’s something about it.”
Iroh raised his eyebrow. “So you sense it too?”
“You don’t like it either?” she asked, turning to him.
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Iroh said, and picked up his teacup. “It doesn’t seem malevolent. In fact, I think it has become rather fond of its new owner.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A kris has a soul,” Iroh said. “Didn’t Mai explain?”
“She wasn’t exactly clear about it.”
“But you can feel it, can’t you? Its personality.”
“Isn’t that… dangerous?”
Iroh shook his head. “Not necessarily. As long as you treat it right. But I can sense that it likes Hanabi.”
Katara cast a pensive look at Hanabi and Zuko, her eyebrows furrowed. The girl held the dagger very naturally, the curvy blade an extension of her own arm just like Zuko showed her. The rubies on the handle gleamed softly. She stepped forward and brought her arm down at the same time, swinging the blade.
“Very good,” Zuko said. “Keep your elbow relaxed.”
Hanabi nodded and did it again, perfectly this time.
“Now, put the kris away for a bit,” he said. Reluctantly, Hanabi shoved the weapon back into its sheath and placed it on the ground near where Iroh and Katara were sitting.
“Do you think you can make fire again, like you did yesterday?” Zuko asked. Hanabi bit her lip.
“I’m not sure…”
“That’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Zuko said. “You don’t have to.”
“No, no, I can do it!” Hanabi said. “I think it went like… this!” She took a deep breath, moved her fist forward, and sure enough a few sparks flew off her fingers. Zuko nodded slowly.
“You’re a real firebender, sweetie. I’ll teach you what I know,” he said, and Hanabi made a very serious face. “So listen well. First of all, strength in firebending comes from the breath.”
Next to her, Katara saw Iroh smile. She poured him another cup, and together they watched as Zuko showed his daughter the first basics of bending.

“Those basics are all very nice,” Katara said after half an hour of breathing exercises, and stood up. “But why don’t we show Hanabi what else she’ll be capable of, if she trains hard?”
Zuko grinned, and Hanabi clapped her hands in excitement.
“Come sit next to your old Uncle, dear, and watch,” Iroh said to her, patting the floor next to him. Hanabi skipped towards him, her hair tousled and her cheeks red. He handed her a cup of tea and she watched her father and Katara over the rim, wide-eyed.
Katara pushed back her sleeves and spread her legs. She felt the hum of water outside the dojo. The rain was still falling, and she called the droplets towards her. They were joined by a long spiral of water that rose up from the pond. It circled around her like a whirlpool. She shook her hair out of her face and gave Zuko a fiery look. She was done with healing. Now she would remind him what other things her element was capable of.
In response to Katara’s whirling wave, Zuko jumped into a wide stance and fire burst from his fists. The flames roared and reached up to the ceiling, where the support beams were scorched black by years and years of exposure to those same moves.
They reached out with their element, teasing the other, trying to find holes in their defense. Hanabi followed her father’s flames wide-eyed. Iroh kept calmly sipping his tea. To any other, a clash between titans like this might seem a fierce fight, but he recognized it for what it was. Friendly sparring, training to keep in shape, but mostly: a way to express emotions that couldn’t be put in words.
Zuko had been walking on his toes all day. Hanabi seemed alright now- she laughed, she played, she listened to them. But who knew when that would turn around? She could burst out in crying any moment when the distractions were over. And Zuko himself had a long way to go to fully work through his grief, too. Iroh watched as his nephew launched firebolt after firebolt at Katara’s icy shield, then had to duck when she lashed out with a waterwhip. His emotions always showed in his bending. That was why he still wasn’t able to produce lightning. Iroh wondered if he ever would be. If he was honest, probably not. But that wasn’t a bad thing. Emotionlessness wasn’t something that seemed to rhyme with Zuko’s nature. It required a certain detachedness that he simply didn’t have. He was too involved with the world, he cared too much about others to not let it affect him. In that way he was very similar to the young Avatar.
Panting, Zuko and Katara stood opposite of each other. They were both completely soaked, with scratches and bruises starting to show. The reed mats had suffered more scorch marks than usual and had turned more black than brown.
Katara’s hair stuck in wet strands to her skin. Her lips were swollen and her eyes gleamed. Zuko stared at the droplets that clung to her eyelashes and the flames in his hands died out.
“Zuko? Are you alright?” Katara asked, worry in her voice. He closed his eyes and turned away his head.
“I’m fine,” he lied. “Let’s stop.”
“Okay,” she said. She didn’t want to pressure him further so she started to gather the water that had soaked the reed mats. Zuko walked over to the tea table on the side and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He gratefully accepted the teacup Iroh held out to him, and emptied it in one big gulp. Then he kept staring at the wall. It still showed indents from small, sharp throwing knives.
He felt a tiny hand wrap around his own.
“I miss her too, daddy,” said Hanabi. Her voice was calm, the complete opposite of her rage and despair yesterday. But it was laced with sadness.
He squeezed her hand and looked down on her. She held her kris close, and looked up at him with clear golden eyes.
“Do you want to go outside for a walk?” he asked. “I think it’s not raining that heavily anymore.”
She nodded. He gave a quick smile to Iroh and then they left, hand in hand, into the direction of the turtle duck pond.
Katara had finished getting all the water out of the mats again, and watched father and daughter leave. After the magnificent display of her waterbending prowess, her figure suddenly seemed small and forlorn, standing alone in the middle of the dojo.
Iroh rose to his feet with a heavy grunt, calling her attention.
“Why don’t we write a letter to Toph? I’m sure she’d like to hear how her students are getting along with their project,” he said, and Katara’s grateful smile rivaled the sun that started peeking out from behind the rain clouds again.

Chapter Text

A few days passed by in relative tranquility. There were no Council meetings, as the country was officially in a period of mourning. The palace staff and all members of the royal family still wore white. Zuko and Hanabi took walks through the garden together, or went to feed the goats at the palace’s farmland, or sat in contemplation at the edge of the turtle duck pond. Hanabi received firebending training from her father every day, as well as lessons in kris fighting. Although she did not display signs of great talent, she was determined and disciplined, and worked hard. Meanwhile Katara and Iroh worked together to keep the country running. Iroh knew the ins and outs of the political system, and Katara was up-to-date with the various projects that were going on. She’d met and worked with most of the ministers now, and they had found mutual respect. For every decision that could do without the Imperial Seal that only Zuko could use, Iroh’s tiny white jade dragon was pressed at the bottom of the decree.
“I was thinking of inviting Piandao and Jeong-Jeong to the palace, for the End-of-War celebrations,” Iroh said to Katara after a meeting with Lady Soo-jin, the minister of Education. “What do you think Zuko would say?”
“I don’t think he’d mind,” she said, “as long as the only reason you’re inviting them is to drink tea and play pai sho togheter.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “And somehow I doubt that.”
“Ah, but tea and pai sho are such delightful pastimes,” Iroh sighed. “And they are best enjoyed in the company of old friends… Now that I’m not in Ba Sing Se anymore, I have to miss my daily games!”
“There are more than enough games for you to play here in the palace, old dragon,” Katara teased him. Iroh shook his head and tutted.
“Young lady, you say that as if you’ve never played a game in your life.”
Now Katara fell silent.
“Iroh… if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell Zuko?”
He raised an eyebrow, barely hiding his curiosity. “I cannot betray my Fire Lord and country, Master Katara, but as long as it’s not treason I think I can keep a secret.”
She sighed. “It isn’t, but I’m afraid that some people do think it is.”
“Now you’ve got me really curious!”
She turned her ink brush around in her hands. “Well… when I was at Mai’s parents’ estate, her father very backhandedly made clear that he didn’t trust me, and that he suspected I was poisoning Mai.”
“But why on earth would you do that?”
“Right?!” She pulled up her shoulders. “I think his theories were that I either wanted to ruin the Fire Nation or get into Zuko’s bed, or maybe both.”
Iroh blew out through pursed lips. “Surely there are easier ways for either of those things, if you truly wanted them.”
She glared at him. “You’re not helping much.”
“I’m sorry, Katara,” he said. “But it’s a wild accusation!”
“I’m just scared that he’ll start rumours, and that people will believe him.”
“First of all, you are not the only doctor who’s treated Mai. Everybody knows she was very ill. Second, you are known to be one of the most important contributors to the Fire Nation’s recovery after the war. Even now you’re taking care of the country and its people. You may not realize it, but the people here know your name, and they admire you greatly. Thirdly… Lord Ukano has had stranger theories in the past. Don’t you recall? He was convinced that Ozai wasn’t dead, but escaped and in hiding, for I don’t know how many years.”
“I do remember. That was very painful.”
Iroh nodded. He put his hand on Katara’s back and smiled at her. “Don’t be too afraid of rumours. They are a part of court life, so you’ll probably have to learn how to deal with them.”
She looked at him sideways. “So you, too, assume that I’m staying here?”
“My dear girl,” he laughed. “you’d never leave Zuko when he needs you most.”
She shook her head. “I don’t get it. He needed me most when I still had a chance of healing Mai. Surely there’s nothing he needs me for, now?”
Iroh’s eyes were soft. “You may not have been able to heal Mai,” he said, “but you can heal Zuko.”
She kept turning the ink brush round and round in her hands. Then she put it down, looked at Iroh and said: “I’ll do my best.”

One of the only good things about the period of mourning, according to Katara, was that the formal dinners were canceled. Instead they had dinner with just the four of them; Zuko, Hanabi, Iroh and Katara, in the small parlor that was usually only for breakfast. However, this didn’t prevent Hanabi from breaking out in sobs when dessert turned out to be coconut rice cakes. Mai’s favourite. Zuko angrily spoke to the staff and would have run to the kitchens to extract an apology from the cook himself if he hadn’t been too busy consoling his daughter.
“Hanabi,” Katara said, and although the girl kept sobbing, she continued. “Can I tell you something?” She moved closer to them. “My mother’s favourite dish was stewed sea prunes. Have you ever tasted them?”
Hanabi peeked from under Zuko’s arm and quietly shook her head.
“They’re soft but chewy and salty. Ask your daddy about them some time, he hates them. I hated them too as a kid. But my mother absolutely loved them. She cooked them at least once a week.”
Hanabi sniffed but kept looking at her. Zuko, too, gave her a curious look.
“After my mother had… gone,” she swallowed, “it was up to me to cook. I wasn’t very good at it, but there was one dish that I made more than any other. Stewed sea prunes. Because every time I ate them, I felt close to my mother. And soon they became my favourite dish, too.”
Hanabi had quieted down. She sat up a little more upright on Zuko’s lap and said:
“Auntie, can you bring me to bed? I’m really tired.”
Katara blinked and immediately looked at Zuko. He shrugged.
“Sure, sweetie.” She held out her hand and Hanabi climbed off Zuko’s lap. Together they left the room and went to the nursery.
With the help of one of the maids Katara brushed Hanabi’s hair and undressed her. Then the maid left and Katara put the princess into bed. She tucked in the edges of her blanket.
“Auntie, your mommy died when you were little too, right? Just like daddy’s mommy.”
Katara nodded.
“And mine.”
“We’re not very lucky, aren’t we?” Katara said bitterly.
“Do all mommies die?”
She bit her lip. Maybe Iroh was better at answering questions like these.
“Well sweetie, everybody dies eventually. But most people only do so when they’re very old. My mommy, and Zuko’s mommy, they died because there was a war and bad things happened to them. But there is no war now. Your mommy just had bad luck and became sick.”
“But why did it happen to her? Why couldn’t someone else’s mommy get sick?”
“We don’t control those things, sweetie.”
“Was it because I did something bad? Mommy was often angry at me. Do you think she got sick because I was naughty so often?”
Katara sat down next to Hanabi’s bed and looked into her eyes.
“No, sweetie. Your mommy loved you and she was very sad that she had to leave you. She didn’t think you were naughty. She knew you are a very sweet, hard-working girl.”
“Auntie… Do you love me?”
“Of course, sweetie.”
Hanabi pulled up the blanket to her nose.
“Do you love me as much as mommy loved me?”
After a heartbeat, Katara said: “Yes.”
“Then I’m happy you’re my auntie and not my mommy, because mommies die, but aunties won’t! So you’ll stay with me.”
Katara shook her head while biting on the inside of her cheek. “Yes, sweetie. I won’t leave you. I promised, right?”
Hanabi nodded, content, and closed her eyes. She soon drifted off to sleep, and Katara tiptoed out of the room.

Katara was awoken by a soft knock on her door. After a split second of panic she realized there wasn’t any shouting or running, and she stepped out of bed calmly. She wasn’t surprised to see Zuko when she opened her door.
He stepped inside without waiting for her to say anything.
“I can’t sleep,” he said. “I can’t stand that big, empty bed, but my office feels so cold and lonely, and I don’t want to wake Uncle, so…”
“So you decided to wake me, instead,” Katara smiled.
“Sorry,” he cringed. “I thought…”
“It’s alright,” she said immediately. “I don’t mean it. Come in.”
He carefully sat down on the edge of her bed. He was barefoot, dressed only in wide trousers and a quickly thrown on nightgown. His hair hung loose onto his shoulders. She sat down next to him and smoothed a strand out of his face.
“I like it like this,” she smiled. “You should have it loose more often.”
“Can’t wear the crown then,” he smiled.
“Good. That thing is heavy.”
“It is… but somebody needs to wear it.” He looked up at her. “Maybe you could.”
“Me?”
“It would suit you. I told you, you’d be a good Fire Lady.”
She shook her head. “You were drunk when you said that, silly.”
“I still meant it.”
He crossed his legs and sat down more comfortably.
“I realized I haven’t even thanked you properly yet,” he started. Katara raised her hand.
“Don’t. You don’t need to.”
“But I want to. I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for… for Mai. I want to thank you for taking care of Hanabi when I couldn’t, and for always being there for me, and for your assistance with running the country. I truly don’t know what I would do without you.”
She pulled up one corner of her mouth. “I haven’t exactly made it easier for you.”
He shook his head. “You respected my boundaries even when I clearly was the one out of line. You’ve never asked questions, you’ve only supported me. Thank you Katara.”
She blushed. “Are you going to make a whole speech?”
“No, I’m done. I can’t think of anything else to say. If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more.”
She felt her breath catch in her throat. Her cheeks burned and she stared at her toes.
“You know I love you too, Zuko. Always have, always will.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“But I don’t want you to feel like I expect anything from you. I’ll stay here as long as you want me to, but I don’t want to obtrude.”
“Katara…” He took her hand. She tried to ignore how loudly her heart was beating.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be ready. Please be patient with me. But if you can trust that I love you, please, stay and wait.”
She scooted closer to him.
“Well, it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”
He smiled. “I know that’s not true. But thank you.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. She leaned her head on his chest and stretched out her legs. He wiggled until the pillow was in his back, and she pulled the blanket over them.
“Zuko?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“…Yes.”
She propped herself up on one elbow and placed her hand on his upper arm for support. Then she leaned in closer, engulfed in the warmth of his body and the blanket, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her nearer, kissing her back. After one kiss on her lips, he placed another on her forehead. She nestled comfortably beside him, one leg over his, and his arms still around her. His lips were soft, still pressed to her temple, and his heartbeat was steady. She ran her hand through his hair and nuzzled her nose into his neck. Slowly, his breath evened out. The Fire Lord had fallen asleep beside her.

Chapter Text

From then on Zuko spent his nights in Katara’s room. It wasn’t long before the staff noticed, and when the staff started gossiping, the nobles overheard. Just what Katara had feared. Rumours.
After the period of heavy mourning was over, the formal dinners had begun again. But now there was no Fire Lady to lead the ladies out of the room, or to intimidate them into good manners. After dinner, Katara picked up fragments of their whispered conversations.
“…all very convenient for her, now that...”
“…no shame.”
“…customs of those barbarians…”
Lord Inoue was the first one to say it out loud: “Our Lady’s ash wasn’t even cold yet before she had already lured him into her bed.”
Sadly, neither Zuko nor Katara were present when he said it, but they heard about it from the other nobles. Zuko almost exploded with anger, and Katara hissed: “I swear I’ll put an icicle through his throat the next time I see him, that filthy toad, that…”
But Iroh calmed them down. He argued that their anger would only be seen as a confirmation. Indifference was the best solution.
Two days later, Lord Inoue was appointed as the new governor of the northernmost province of the Fire Nation. It was a great honour, and he accepted it as gracefully as he could. After that, no one said their suspicions out loud again.
And why would they? Katara had become almost indispensable in the palace. The irrigation project was growing into a big success under her guidance, and a double harvest of rice was expected in the fall. The ministers knew all their proposals would have to pass her judgment before the Fire Lord would even look at them. She was often seen in public with the Dragon of the West, who was still a favourite among the people. At the weekly market in the capital, it was a common sight to see her walking hand in hand with the young princess, shopping for toys or clothes or ink brushes. She was always ready to smile and chat with anyone. And slowly but surely, the court ladies smiled at her more, and did their best to include her in their conversations. It became fashionable to be seen with her. She remained distant at first, but always stayed polite. She dressed in red a bit more often. She was careful not to take the Fire Lady’s seat at dinner, but she always sat right next to Zuko. It wasn’t long before he asked her to join the Council meetings.
He slept in her bed every night. And yet, after that first night they hadn’t kissed again at all. It didn’t really bother her. She was content with his slow breathing next to her, the warmth of his body and his smile when he woke up. When he looked at her through his eyelashes, just before he was fully awake, he smiled at her as if he had not a care in the world. But as soon as he opened his eyes completely, a darkness seemed to come over him. She understood. Of course she did. Only time could help to heal that wound.
Hanabi recovered a bit more easily. She still clutched her kris closely at times, but she didn’t insist on sleeping with it anymore- that had seriously scared Katara. It hung on the wall in her room, and she wore the sheath on her back every day when she practiced. She also showed great progress in firebending. After a few weeks, she was able to create small flames and keep them burning in her palms. Zuko beamed with pride.

The end of summer drew near. The capital was busy preparing for the yearly End-of-War festival, that would commemorate the fourteenth year since the defeat of Ozai. Katara held her breath at rumours that the Avatar would attend, and quietly sighed in relief when she heard the confirmation that he would join the festivities in Ba Sing Se this year. She almost leaped with joy, though, when Sokka wrote that he and Suki would be part of the Water Tribe emissary.
A few days before the festival, Piandao and Jeong-Jeong arrived at the palace. Jeong-Jeong had grown very wiry and bent, with his hair and eyes wilder than ever. Piandao, however, had not changed much. His figure had only become slightly more filled-out. Katara glanced at his thick hair, graying only at the temples, his straight posture and calm, regal expression, and admitted to herself that he really was a very handsome man.
“I am looking forward to meeting your brother again, Master Katara,” he said after they bowed and exchanged the usual formalities. “I trust he hasn’t put down the sword?”
“Oh, no,” Katara said. “Quite the opposite. He even teaches now!”
“What a good thing to hear. Is there a school on the South Pole?”
“Yes, Sokka and Suki started it. It’s attached to the bending school, so non-benders get training as well, and benders are obliged to attend hand-to-hand combat classes too. That way everyone will always be able to defend themselves.”
Piandao hummed. “Benders, too? Very good, very good.”
Zuko, who had been listening to their conversation, joined in. “Speaking of that, Master Piandao,” he started. “I would be honoured if you could watch the training of my daughter, one of these days. She has only just begun firebending, but I’m training her in kris-fighting too.”
At this Piandao raised his eyebrows. “Kris-fighting? That is an art that isn’t practiced much anymore. It would be my pleasure to attend her training.”
Zuko bowed. Then Piandao and Jeong-Jeong joined Iroh in the tea pavilion, to drink tea and play pai sho and, in Iroh’s own words, ‘talk about things that only old men are interested in’.
“I’m going to revise Hanabi on her writing,” Zuko said to Katara as they walked back through the hall. “Could you take care of the Minister of Finance? He’s requested a meeting this afternoon, no doubt to complain about the costs for the festival.”
“Sure.”
“And the Earth Kingdom delegation is set to arrive before sunset, too. If I’m not finished before then, could you welcome them?”
“Zuko, you know, if you’re going to make me work this much you could as well make me a member of the Council officially,” she joked. He gave her a lopsided smirk.
“Everything in its due time, Katara. Besides, if I didn’t ask you, you’d do it yourself anyway. You and Uncle are almost more involved in the administration than myself.”
She laughed. “That is true. I’ll see you tonight then.”
She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. Sliding one arm around her waist, he leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“See you tonight,” he said softly. Then he released her and quickly disappeared. Katara blinked and felt her heart beat rapidly. She absentmindedly smoothed down her hair, still flustered, and couldn’t suppress a smile. Then she started towards the Fire Lord’s office, where the Minister would probably be waiting already.

Chapter Text

“Sokka!”
“Katara!”
As soon as Katara saw her brother disembark she ran up to the boat and unto the gangway, almost throwing them both in the water when she jumped into his outstretched arms. The waves in the harbour leaped and crashed on the hull of the ship, riled up by the waterbender’s emotion. They squeezed each other so tightly that when they finally let go, both had to gasp for breath. Sokka laughed widely.
“Sis! You look well!”
“So do you,” Katara said with beaming eyes. “I like the beard!” They still stood in the middle of the gangway, blocking the way for the other passengers. Katara felt something poke in her back.
“Would you mind letting the others disembark, too?” a familiar voice said, but its owner laughed. She unfolded the fan with which she had poked Katara and waved it at herself. “Oof, this country is even hotter than I remember.”
“Hello Suki,” Katara smiled, and threw her arms around her sister-in-law. It didn’t quite fit as she remembered, since Suki’s pregnant belly stuck forward, still subtly, but proudly.
Sokka clapped his hands on both women’s backs and looked around excitedly.
“Come, let’s get to land,” he said. “Now where is that hotheaded Fire Lord of yours?”
Katara laughed. They stepped off the gangway, allowing the coolies to start unloading the cargo.
“He’s not my Fire Lord,” she protested. “And he’s back at the palace. We’re very busy preparing everything for the festival, on top of the normal administration. And I wanted to come pick you up myself,” she smiled. “I’ve missed you for so long, I didn’t want to share you immediately.”
Sokka hugged her again.
“I missed you too, sis.”

Katara took them on a small tour around the palace to re-acquaint them with everything. She brought them to their guest rooms in the somewhat cooler northern part of the palace, and explained the schedule for the upcoming festivities. Meanwhile she directed the servants on where to take the Water Tribe’s gifts for the ceremony. During her talk, Sokka smiled.
“I’m glad to see you’re bossing everyone around, as usual,” he said. She glared at him.
“It’s good that you’re appreciated so much here,” Suki added. “You look right at home.”
Katara tilted her head. She cast a look over the stone garden and the veranda that faced it.
“I do feel appreciated here. But I’m not sure if it’s home.”
“I meant to ask you, actually,” Suki said when she saw Katara’s hesitating look. “When the festival is over, and if you want… I mean, if you can… I wondered if you could come back with us to the South Pole. I’m due in a few months and to be honest I’m not really looking forward to it. You being there would be a big relief.”
Katara bit her lip. She had turned that possibility around in her head ever since she received Suki’s first letter.
“Besides,” Sokka chimed in, “Gran-Pakku is getting old. We need a new teacher for the waterbenders. Preferably one that doesn’t have a face like he’s permanently sucking a lemon.” He poked at the edge of a floorboard with his toe. “Plus Dad misses you like crazy. And uhm, so do I.”
Katara’s stomach twisted. She took a deep breath. “I miss the South Pole too. I’ve missed you two so much! I miss Dad and the children and even Master Pakku. But I’m not sure if I can leave Zuko.”
Sokka’s face fell, but Suki took Katara’s hand. “We understand.”
“His grief is still raw,” she said. “And I promised Mai I would take care of him and Hanabi.”
Her brother nodded hesitantly. “I get it. Well, think about it. You know you’re welcome, whenever you want to come.”
Katara gave him a smile. “I know. I’ll think about it.” Then she clapped her hands together. “But first! You must be hungry! And there are other guests who would like to meet you!”
She took them to the private dining room, where they found Zuko, Iroh and Hanabi just getting ready for lunch. They bowed, but Zuko jumped up immediately when he saw them. He hugged Suki, then crushed Sokka in a strong embrace.
Sokka answered the gesture and affectionately clapped his friend on his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry about Mai, brother,” he said quietly. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
Zuko released him and pressed his lips together. “Thanks,” he said. “I… well, we manage. We have to.” He pulled up one corner of his mouth in a lopsided attempt at a smile.
“I’m happy Katara seems to be taking good care of you,” Sokka said. Zuko nodded.
“I’m very grateful for her presence.” His smile grew a little. “And for yours, now. It’s so good to see you. Come, sit and eat, we’ve got goat sateh.”
He did not have to say that twice.
After the first greetings Suki and Katara had sat down next to Iroh, and the old man inquired after the situation in the South Pole and Kyoshi Island.
“There’s not much to tell, really,” Suki smiled as she scooped up some rice. “Everything is as it always is. But we’ve recently expanded the Water Tribe’s school to include hand-to-hand combat training for waterbenders, as well as a larger program for non-benders.”
“Do you educate the Water Tribe people in Kyoshi techniques?” Iroh asked.
Suki nodded. “Yes. Not fan-fighting, that’s exclusive to the Warriors, but we teach sword and hand-to-hand. I’m trying to get Ty Lee to teach pressure point technique, but she’s not been in the teaching mood recently. Understandably, of course.”
Iroh nodded slowly.
“How are things here?” Suki asked, lowering her voice a little. “Everything seems to be going quite smoothly, but it must be hard for all of you.”
Iroh cast a look at Hanabi, who was chatting with Katara, and Zuko who was engaged in a lively talk with Sokka.
“We’re alright,” he said. “We’ve had time to get used to the idea, and life goes on… But of course it isn’t easy for anyone.”
Suki rested her chin in her hand. “I cannot imagine… losing your wife so young… how terrible.”
Iroh sighed. “I had hoped it was something of the past. My own wife succumbed to a fever when I was only a little older than Zuko is now. But it seems that death finds a way to sneak around any advances in medicine we make.”
Katara picked up their conversation and turned around.
“I don’t agree, Iroh,” she said. “Mai had terrible bad luck. But in general, I know that the public health has greatly improved.”
“It also helps that the harvest is getting better, and that there’s no war anymore,” Suki added.
“How many healers are at the South Pole now?” Katara asked. Suki furrowed her brows.
“None permanently,” she said. “We’ve got a few waterbenders from the North stationed, as you know, they’re training with Master Pakku, and there are some healers that visit quite regularly, but none of them want to live in the South.”
“Why not?” Iroh asked. Katara laughed. “I can imagine,” she said. “Leaving the North Pole at all is already a challenge for women, and when they do, they don’t usually want to go back to the Water Tribe. Most healers I’ve met enjoyed traveling around and did not want to settle anywhere. If they do want to, they usually go back to their family in the North.”
“I see,” Iroh nodded. “What about the male waterbenders?”
“Those are Master Pakku’s students from the North,” Suki said. “They don’t particularly enjoy the South Pole, but they have to finish their training with him. But Master Pakku is getting old, so they might move back to the North when he stops teaching.”
“None of them are healers, anyway,” Katara added.
“If they leave, then the Southern Water Tribe would be without any benders again?” Iroh asked. Suki nodded, and Katara bit her lip.
Iroh decided to change the subject.
“Speaking of schools, this little one is starting her education in the autumn as well,” he said, and patted Hanabi’s hair. She looked up and pouted.
“I don’t want to go to school,” she said. “I can already read and write, anyway!”
“Yes, you can, and very beautifully too,” Iroh said, “but there are many more things you can learn!”
“Besides, you’ll get to meet other children too, and play with them,” Katara said. Hanabi shook her head and wrapped her arms around Katara’s waist.
“I don’t want to. I want to stay with you,” she said and buried her face in the nook of her arm. Zuko noticed and looked up, making eye contact with Katara. He looked worried. Apologetically Katara loosened Hanabi’s hands and said: “I know sweetie, but we still have a while. Don’t worry about it yet.”
Hanabi seemed pacified and went back to her food. Zuko nudged Sokka.
“You should come to Hanabi’s training this afternoon. You might like to meet her teacher.”
Sokka raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were teaching her yourself?”
“I was. But recently I’ve gotten help from someone you and I both know well.”
Sokka’s curiosity was triggered, and after lunch the entire group went to the dojo. Only Katara left to arrange the accommodation for the Earth King’s envoy, while Iroh excused himself and went back to the tea pavilion to finish his game of pai sho with Jeong-Jeong.

Sokka, Suki, Zuko and Hanabi entered the dojo. Hanabi unsheathed her kris and stepped out of her boots, while Zuko looked around for her teacher. He was supposed to be here, right?
Suddenly Sokka jumped away and kicked against the sword that had poked his back. Suki immediately took a fighting stance and whipped out her fans. Sokka grabbed a wooden pole that hung on the wall and readied himself, before Zuko had even noticed what was happening.
Piandao stepped out of the shadow and smirked.
“Hello Sokka,” he said. “Good to see your reflexes are still sharp.”
“Master Piandao.” Sokka lowered the pole and bowed deeply, as did Suki. Piandao answered the gesture, his stretched hand above his fist.
“So you’re the Princess’s teacher!” Sokka said. “I should’ve known!”
“Yes, I’ve been honoured to train her in kris-fighting. An ancient art that I’m happy to see preserved.”
“It’s wonderful to see you again,” Suki said. Piandao smiled.
“I heard that you’re both teachers yourself now,” he said. “How’s that going?”
Sokka coloured. “I’m trying, but of course I can’t compare to your teaching… Suki’s better at it, anyway.”
She laughed. “The people from the Water Tribe are harder to discipline than my Warriors, though!”
Zuko turned to them. “Would you like to sharpen your skills against a firebender again?”
“I’m always ready to fight a firebender,” Suki grinned. Sokka laughed. “Two against one would be unfair!” he said. “You go first, Suki, but leave something for me.”
Zuko grabbed his dual blades while Suki picked out a sword from the dojo’s arsenal. Piandao spoke to Hanabi shortly, then gestured Sokka to come to them.
“Her Royal Highness… Princess Hanabi, I mean,” he smiled when the princess crinkled her nose at the title, “has been working hard, but she’s only trained with her father and myself. I would like to see how she does in a spar with someone else. Will you be her opponent?”
Sokka nodded. He was still holding the pole he had grabbed from the wall earlier, and walked to the middle of the hall. He stamped his feet to try out his footing on the reed mats, and threw the pole from one hand to the other.
“Whenever you’re ready, Princess,” he called. Hanabi pulled a very serious face, tightened her grip on her kris and took a stance opposite of him.
“Don’t be intimidated by your opponent’s size or his big words,” Master Piandao said to her. “Remember your technique and stay calm. If you can do that, you’re halfway to securing victory.”
She nodded, pressed her lips together and made a stabbing move forward. Sokka evaded and blocked her blade, and made a counter-attack. He moved slowly on purpose, so Piandao could point out the angle he was coming from and the way Hanabi could block his attack.
While the little girl and her tall, broad-shouldered opponent went through their moves calmly, meanwhile Zuko and Suki faced off in a much fiercer match. Although Zuko had been keeping up with his firebending practice, he didn’t have a good opponent in swordfighting at the palace. His guards were hesitant to face him and Katara fought only with waterbending. He found that Suki, although a little slower in her movements because of her pregnancy, was still the formidable opponent he remembered.
Panting after dodging another of her vicious stabs, he said:
“Remind me never to attack Kyoshi Island again!”
“When my students graduate you might want to avoid the Southern Water Tribe, too,” she replied. He caught her sword between his two blades and tried to knock it out of her hands, but she jumped backwards and almost made him lose his balance.
Halfway the fight, Katara entered the dojo. She watched the two battling groups for a moment with a smile, but then cleared her throat.
“Sir Jian of the Earth Kingdom requests an audience with the Fire Lord,” she said. Zuko, his swords still in his hands, wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his forearm and walked towards her. His hair was tousled and he’d thrown off his outer robe, and he was still breathing heavily from the match. Katara watched him as he put back his blades. Suki caught her husband’s eye and raised an eyebrow. He smirked. They had both seen the flustered look on Katara’s face.
“Suki,” Piandao asked while Zuko put his robe back on and left the dojo, “I haven’t had the chance to practice against the Kyoshi style in a very long time. Would you do me the honour?”
“Of course,” she said with a slight bow.
“Hanabi, your training is done for today,” Piandao said to the princess. “You can stay and watch us if you want.”
She nodded, carefully put back her kris in its sheath and sat down along the edge of the mats.
Suki took a deep breath and raised her sword to Piandao, whose face was calm and calculating. While they faced off, Sokka walked over to Katara and nudged her.
“Wanna go outside for a bit?” he said. “Sure,” she answered. They left the building and walked into the garden.
“How did you fare against the princess?” Katara asked. Sokka smiled. “She’s cute. A fierce one! She’d be a good friend for Maya.”
“How are the children anyway?”
“They’re doing well. Kunik knows how to read already! He’s a smart kid. And Maya’s just a little angel, Dad adores her. He’s taking care of them now. They’re disappointed they couldn’t join us, of course, but Suki and I agreed that the journey would be too heavy for them.”
“Yeah, that’s what you wrote. It’s a pity the South Pole is so far away.”
“It is… Although that’s obviously not the only reason you’re prolonging your stay here,” Sokka said as he wiggled his eyebrows. Katara looked at him quizzically.
“You’ve got the hots for Sifu Hotman!” her brother sing-songed. She turned bright red and balled her fists.
“I don’t! That’s not how it is!” she exclaimed.
“Oh sis, I can see right through you,” Sokka laughed. “The way you looked at him just now! All sweaty and hot from training… You liked what you saw! Admit it, you two are totally doing it.”
It was impossible for her to turn redder. She sputtered in denial, only causing Sokka to laugh even louder. He patted her shoulder.
“Don’t take it the wrong way. I’m happy for you, although I am a little surprised. It’s a bit quick after the funeral, to be sure, but you two have been making eyes at each other since the war, so it’s not completely unexpected.” He chuckled. “And here I thought I’d have to comfort you because of Aang.”
Katara sighed and covered her face with her hands. “It seems like you’re completely up to date with all the news,” she remarked. “But you’re missing a few details.”
“Sorry for teasing you,” he said. “You know I don’t mean any of it.”
“Of course, I know.” Her cheeks lost some of their redness and she smiled again. “I owe you an update, anyway.”
They had reached the palace’s farmland and walked between the great white peacocks, that cooed at them as they passed. Katara climbed on the fence that stood around the goat’s field and sat down.
“So. Tell me everything,” Sokka said as he sat down next to her. Katara stared at her toes.
“Well, you read my letter. I can’t have children, things got bad between Aang and me, and I left.”
“That’s a very brief summary of the past year, I guess,” Sokka said.
“It’s the gist of it, yeah. It’s still a little hard for me to talk about. But I don’t want you to think that I’m jealous or bitter, especially now that Aang is becoming a father and Suki’s pregnant again. I’m really happy for you, and for Aang too.”
Sokka nodded in understanding.
“I guess I’m mostly ashamed. I feel like I failed Aang, that I wasn’t able to give him the happiness he wanted. And I was too ashamed to admit that failure to you, too.”
Sokka put his arm around his sister’s shoulders.
“Listen Katara, I know family is important to our Tribe, but that doesn’t mean that your duty in life is to have children! You can be a part of the family in many different ways.”
Katara smiled but shook her head. “It’s not the same.”
“Honestly, don’t think like that,” Sokka said. “You’re part of the tribe. That will never change. We miss you.”
“I miss you too… I really do want to go home,” she admitted, and leaned into her brother’s embrace.
“But..?” Sokka suggested.
“But…” Katara continued.
“Zuko.” It wasn’t a question. She nodded.
“It’s so strange,” she said. “I came here with my head still full of sadness and bitterness about Aang, and all that seems to have disappeared. While I was spending more time with Zuko, my worries seemed so irrelevant, and I realised…” she smiled. “I realised that I’d loved him all along.”
Sokka nodded. “I always thought there was something between you back then, before you got together with Aang,” he said.
She blushed again. “Well… sort of. We never actually talked about it. But now it turns out he felt the same, and still does.”
“But what about..?”
“Mai? Yeah, that complicated things a bit.”
“I’m guessing that’s an understatement. I know their marriage was mainly political but he isn’t the type to be unfaithful.”
“He wasn’t. And we’re not…” she coloured. “We’re not doing it, as you put it.”
“Not?”
“It’s too soon, anyway. I don’t want to pressure him.”
“No, of course.”
They were silent for a moment. Then Sokka elbowed her.
“You still want that hot booty though,” he grinned. She snorted and almost fell off the fence.

Chapter Text

“Daddy?” Hanabi asked just before Zuko left for dinner. “Is it true that Master Jeong-Jeong is the best firebending teacher in the world?”
Zuko blinked. “Who told you that?”
“Uncle and Master Piandao. They said he even taught the Avatar!”
“I taught the Avatar,” Zuko said defensively. “But yes, so did he. As did Uncle Iroh,” he added immediately, trying to hide his indignation.
“Do you think he’d want to teach me, too?” Hanabi asked. Zuko shrugged.
“He’s a bit old, but I don’t see why not. Why don’t you ask him tomorrow?”
She grinned and hugged her father. “I will!”
He kissed her cheek and nudged her towards Doona the nanny, who was waiting in the doorframe.
“Now go and have your bath, I have to go to dinner. Sleep well, sweetie.”
“Sleep well daddy,” Hanabi smiled. “Can you ask auntie Katara to come and give me a goodnight kiss, too?”
“I think she’s still busy talking to our guests from the Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom,” Zuko said, and Hanabi’s face fell. “But I’ll ask her, of course,” he quickly continued, and she smiled again.

Zuko entered the dining hall and saw Katara, who was indeed talking to the Earth King’s envoy. Sokka, Suki and Iroh were also part of the conversation, so he could easily take her aside for a minute.
“Hanabi asked for you to kiss her goodnight,” he said. Katara’s first reaction was to smile mollified, but then she frowned.
“Listen, I don’t want to imply that it’s a bad thing…” she started hesitantly, and Zuko nodded.
“I know what you mean. She’s getting too attached to you.”
“Yes, I feel so too. I’m afraid she’s coping with her mourning by projecting her longing for her mother on me.”
“It’s understandable. You do care for her like a mother.”
Katara lowered her eyes and bit her lip. “I do… Zuko, I don’t want to impose, but I really do love Hanabi, and it’s hard for me not to take on that role.”
Zuko touched her elbow lightly, careful not to show too much affection in front of other people. In a low voice he said: “It would make me very happy if you took on that role one day.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Doing her best to keep her voice down, she replied: “Are you serious?”
He nodded, looked over his shoulders to the hall full of nobles, and turned his back on them.
“I’m not sure if now is the right time. I don’t want you to feel like you’re only a compensation for what she’s missing. But I know that there is no one else I would rather share her with,” he smiled. “And I know she will love you like a mother, too.”
She swallowed to get the lump out of her throat.
“Let’s go and tuck her in then, shall we?” she asked with a shy smile. They sneaked out of the hall quietly and walked through the corridors to the nursery.
When Zuko slid open the door, however, he stiffened.
“She’s not here.”
Katara’s blood ran cold. A thousand scenarios crossed her mind. The palace was full of people from the other nations. Sure, there was peace now, but how many people still resented the Fire Nation? And how many would want to take out that resentment on the Fire Princess, the only heir?
“Oh no,” she whispered. She glanced at the empty futon and the rest of the room. All was in place, no sign of a struggle. Even the kris still hung in its sheath on the wall.
Zuko balled his fist. He was doing his utmost to remain calm, but Katara knew he’d be blasting down the walls in a minute. She took a deep breath.
“Let’s check the bathroom first,” she said.
There was no one in the bathroom.
“Where is her nanny?” Katara asked. Zuko’s face had become grim and pale. Through clenched teeth he said: “She usually tidies up Mai’s room after putting Hanabi to bed.”
“We should check there, then. And maybe the other rooms too. Do you want to split up?”
“No,” he said decidedly. Katara could hear the unspoken ‘I’m not losing you, too’.
They hurried to the royal bedroom, but when they came to the door they heard a quiet sobbing behind it. With big eyes they looked at each other. Then Katara slowly pushed open the door.
The room hadn’t been in use since the funeral. Zuko slept in Katara’s room, and only the maids had come in to clean. No one had had the courage to start sorting out the Fire Lady’s wardrobe yet.
On the bed lay a big heap of clothing. Silks, brocades, linens, from thin underdresses to richly embroidered ceremonial robes. The air was filled with the musky perfume Mai used to wear on formal occasions. Amidst the clothing was Hanabi, wrapped in one of Mai’s favourite black ao dais, her face buried in the pillows. She was sobbing heavily.
Zuko carefully walked up to the bed and sat down beside her. She didn’t give a sign that she’d noticed their presence, but when he softly put his arm around her back, she limply let go of the pillow and allowed her father to press her close against him. He slowly rocked her and shushed quietly. “Shh, sweetie. I’m here. It’s okay.”
“I can s-still smell her,” Hanabi sobbed. “How can I still smell her, when she’s never coming back?”
Katara sat down next to them and stroked her hair.
“She’ll always be close to you, even if you can’t see her. The people who love you will never really leave you.”
“I couldn’t even say goodbye,” Hanabi wailed. “I was only hurting her. And now she’s gone! She must still be angry at me.”
“No, she’s not,” Zuko said. “I know she’s not, because she told me.”
Hanabi sniffed.
“She told me that she loves you, and that she’s proud of you,” he continued. Katara nodded. “Yes, she told me the same.”
“Really?” Hanabi asked with big wet eyes. “When?”
“Just before she… went away,” Zuko said. “She said you were everything she ever wanted in life, and that you had made her happy.”
This made Hanabi cry again. She buried her face in Zuko’s neck and tightly grasped his shirt. He held his arms close around her.
Zuko looked at Katara. “Could you let everyone know I won’t be at dinner on time?” he quietly asked. She nodded and stood up. She pressed a kiss to Hanabi’s temple and caressed her hair, then left.

Dinner without the Fire Lord was an awkward affair, but after Katara had briefed him Iroh took care of things gracefully. After what seemed like hours Zuko entered the hall again, his clothes wrinkled and his face still dark. He sat down next to Katara without saying anything, only grasped her hand under the table and did not let go. He finished his meal without appetite.
“Come outside with me,” he said to her when he had dismissed the nobles with a curt nod of his head. “We need to talk.”
Sokka overheard. He pulled a face to his sister, but she shook her head. He gave her a sympathetic look, then joined Suki, Iroh, Piandao and Jeong-Jeong for after-dinner tea.
Outside, in the dark evening air that had cooled down already, Zuko could breathe again. He held on to Katara’s hand until they reached the turtle duck pond, plopped down into the grass and leaned back to look at the stars.
“Katara, it’s a good thing you’ll never be a mother,” he said. She blinked, slightly hurt, but he continued. “There have been too many dead mothers in this palace. My grandmother died when she gave birth to my father. My aunt, Iroh’s wife, died of a fever before I was old enough to even remember her face. My own mother- you know. And now Mai. It’s a curse, I’m sure of it.”
Katara shook her head. “It’s terrible, but I don’t think…”
He cut her off. “Of course. Aang’s been here often enough, if there was anything wrong with this place he’d have known. Uncle has a connection with the Spirit World too. I trust them.”
“Then why do you say this?”
“I don’t think Hanabi should stay here. The palace is too full of memories for her. When my mother had gone, seeing all those familiar places without her in it became torture. I’m sure she’s going through the same now.”
Katara remembered how empty the fireplace in their tent had looked, and nodded.
“She’s going to school after summer, isn’t she?”
Zuko pursed his lips.
“I’m not sure if the Fire Nation Royal Academy for Girls is a suitable place for her, honestly. Of course the curriculum has been changed in recent years, but I still don’t like sending her there.”
“Then where would she go, if you don’t want to keep her here?”
“I was thinking of asking Master Piandao. She likes him, and I trust him. His school is in a beautiful place and it’s not very far from here. He and Jeong-Jeong can teach her everything she needs to know.”
Katara drew her knees up to her chest and tapped her lip, staring at the reflection of the stars in the pond.
“She’s only five years old…”
“She’ll be six soon. Honestly, I think getting out of the palace is the best thing for her now. After my mom had gone, I wanted nothing else but to run away. What about you?”
Katara thought back on all the bleak mornings she had stared at the sea, wondering what on earth kept her in the village. Only a sense of duty and fear of the unknown had held her back.
“You might be right. A change of scenery, like Ty Lee said.”
“Exactly.”
She looked at Zuko sideways. “Do you know I made a promise to Mai?”
He eyed her curiously. “No?”
“I promised her that I would take care of you and Hanabi. She asked me to.”
Zuko didn’t say anything.
“So sending Hanabi away to school, even if we know it’s good for her and she would like it, feels like I’m breaking that promise. Like I’m leaving her.”
“You promised to take care of her. Not to stay with her at all times.”
“That is true…”
“Is that promise also the reason why you won’t admit that you want to go back to the South Pole?”
She inhaled sharply. Of course he saw through her, there would be no use in denying.
“It is a factor,” she admitted.
“So you do want to go back.”
She nodded. “I want to see my father again. I haven’t seen him in years and I miss him. I want to feel the cold wind bite my nose and hear the snow crunch beneath my boots, I want to wear fur and leather again. I miss the taste of seaprunes and seal jerky…” Zuko pulled a face and Katara punched his shoulder. “Don’t give me that look! You’ve never even tried seal jerky!”
“I’m not eager to,” he laughed, but then he became serious again. He gazed at the pond for a minute, then looked back at Katara.
“Would you stay here if I asked you?”
He saw the conflicting emotions play across her face. She bit her lip. There was longing in her eyes, sadness, but also love and something like gratefulness. Then resignation.
“Yes. I’ll stay if you ask me.”
Completely unexpected, he turned and grabbed both sides of her face, kissing her hard. Kissing was still something they shied away from, even holding hands or hugging caused emotions to rile up, so Katara gasped and stumbled backwards. Zuko wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her upright and placed his other hand at the nape of her neck, digging in her hair. He kissed her hungrily, like he had been starving for weeks and she was an oasis, and after the first few seconds of surprise Katara returned the kiss. Her knees turned weak. She held his arm, felt the muscle under the fabric of his sleeve and a fire started in her stomach. She pressed more closely against him.
“You would stay…” he said between kisses, a little out of breath. “You would stay if I asked you, even if you didn’t want to. You would do that for me.”
His lips had traveled from her mouth down her cheek to her neck, and articulating was hard, but she managed to say: “Yes. I won’t leave you if you need me.”
He kissed her collarbone and closed both hands around her waist.
“Then it’s a good thing I won’t ask you,” he said. She stopped kissing him.
“What?”
He stepped back a little, loosening his grip on her but still keeping his arms around her.
“I won’t ask you to stay. I love you, Katara, and I love you even more because you’d be willing to stay for my sake, but I don’t want you to.”
She blinked, unable to reply.
“You’d come to resent me. If I was the reason you couldn’t return home, then this place, and my love, would start to feel like a prison. Wasn’t it the same with you and Aang?”
She nodded slowly.
“Don’t make that mistake twice, Katara. You sacrifice yourself for the people you love, but it’s not necessary. I will never ask you to give up anything.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.
“Thank you.”
He coloured and looked away. “Not to say that I won’t miss you terribly…”
She caressed his cheek. “I’ll miss you too. And I’m worried. How will you feel when you’re left here all alone, with both me and Hanabi gone?”
“I won’t be alone. Uncle said he’d stay here for a while, and it’s not like I have to be locked in my office all day.” He shook his head and smiled. “I needed you before, I couldn’t deal with everything on my own. You’ve been a great support to me. But I’ll manage now.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. He nodded confidently.
“You can go back with Sokka and Suki after the festival. As the Fire Lord, I dismiss you from all obligations here.”
She stepped back and made a curtsey. “I am honoured by your generosity, Your Highness,” she giggled. Then she hugged him again and pressed a last kiss to his lips.
Arm in arm they walked back to the palace.

Chapter Text

On the morning of the festival, Sokka and Zuko were late for breakfast. Covered in sweat, wearing only training pants and their swords strapped to their backs, they made their way through the garden from the dojo back to the palace.
“Aah, it’s too hot!” Sokka exclaimed. “Unfair advantage for a firebender! You should come to the South Pole. I’m sure I’ll beat you in a colder climate.”
“I kicked your ass in the snow before and I’ll do it again,” Zuko taunted. “You won’t have the chance to let that space sword go rusty.”
Sokka patted his dark blade affectionately. “I’d never let you go rusty,” he assured it. Then he turned back to his opponent.
“I mean it though. Why don’t you come? You must want to go with Katara.”
“I can’t just leave the country. Getting out of the capital is already almost impossible, let alone a foreign trip.”
“Nonsense. You need to reconnect a bit with the other nations. Ambassadors can only do so much, it’s good for a leader to show his own face now and then.”
“You might be right,” Zuko smiled.
“I know I am! Take Hanabi with you, and come when it’s snowing. She’ll love it.”
“Yeah, she’d love snow. I’ll think about it.”
Sokka was satisfied with that answer. They entered the breakfast parlor and were met with a chorus of: “There you are!”
Suki, completely decked out in her uniform and face-paint already, shook her head.
“While you two have been playing outside, Katara and I have prepared everything for the ceremony.”
Sokka didn’t seem impressed by her stern look. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her painted cheek.
“We’d be absolutely lost without you,” he said. She smiled but pushed him away.
“You’re sweaty. Eat first, then hurry up to bathe and get dressed.”
She didn’t have to urge him to eat twice. He and Zuko sat down to wolf down the fruit and congee. Meanwhile Katara was checking a list, tapping her charcoal pen against her lip. Zuko had become familiar with that gesture during their many Council meetings in the past month and glanced at her affectionately. Katara put down the list and looked back at him.
“I think we’re complete,” she said. He smiled. “Wonderful.”
He emptied his bowl, stood up and nudged Sokka.
“Come, let’s get dressed quickly,” he said. “I don’t know about your ceremonial clothes but mine take ages to get on.”
Sokka blew out through puffed cheeks. “I’m mostly worried about wearing fur in this heat,” he said. Katara, who would be joining the Water Tribe side during the festivities, nodded in agreement. “It’s only for the ceremony though. We can take it off as soon as the real festival begins.”
“Now hurry,” Suki urged, waving at them with her fans. “You too Katara!”

Sokka had been right, the fur and leather clothes were unbearably warm. Nevertheless Katara was elated to be wearing them again. She helped Sokka put on his wolf-like mantle and leather armor, then strapped on her own beaded and embroidered jewelry. She’d had to do her own hair, because Sen the chambermaid only knew Fire Nation styles. It was now in three thick braids that descended from a low bun, with double loopies richly adorned with beads framing both sides of her face. She wore a large headpiece in the shape of a rising crescent moon. Sokka, too, wore beads in his usual wolf-tail hairstyle.
Clad in blue wool and black fur and leather the two of them walked down to the plaza. They contrasted with the gold and red halls of the palace, and the colour combination became even more diverse when they were joined by Suki in her Kyoshi Warrior’s uniform, and Sir Jian in light green, yellow and white silk robes in the Ba Sing Se style.

At the plaza, a stage was set up. Traditional Fire Nation music was playing now, but after the ceremony the nomadic musicians would give a show. Hundreds of people had gathered on the wide, flat terrain, and Katara suspected they were more interested in a reprise of ‘Secret Tunnel’ than in the ritual exchange of gifts and vows. But before the actual festival could begin, the envoys of all four nations gathered in a circle on the stage. Zuko, in his long mantle and gold embroidered shoulderpieces, with the crown proudly in his topknot, led the ceremony. To his right stood Iroh, who had changed his commoner’s clothes for royal robes once more and made an impressive sight. Next to him stood Suki and Sir Jian as representatives of the Earth Kingdom, then came Sokka and Katara for the Water Tribes. The Air Nomads were represented by two people from the Temples. One of them was Feng, the first discovered airbending child after the war, who was seventeen years old now and had received her tattoos a few years ago. Her hair was still short, but she had grown a lot taller since Katara had last seen her. She knew her well from her years of training with Aang before she had moved back to the Northern Air Temple, where her family was originally from. The girl smiled at her a little shyly. It hadn’t been easy for her to grow up as an anomaly, -airbenders were still extremely scarce-, but she had embraced her identity eventually and wore the Master’s tattoos proudly. Now she was training to become a monk. An older woman, a non-bending Acolyte from the Western Temple, accompanied her.

Zuko started the ceremony by igniting the candles on the stage with a single flick of his hand. The guards in the audience all moved at the same time and fired candles around the rest of the plaza.
Zuko stepped forward and the people cheered. He raised his hand to quiet them.
“Words cannot express how grateful I am to stand here today with all of you, and to be able to celebrate thirteen years of peace,” he started. He was interrupted by more loud cheering. A smile played on his lips.
“Nothing gives me greater joy than the knowledge that all over the world, people are celebrating the same at this very moment. Fire Nation ambassadors have travelled to Ba Sing Se and Omashu, to the Air Temples and the Water Tribes, and are joined by other representatives of other nations. We are all united in our gratefulness for thirteen years of peace and prosperity.”
The people cheered again.
“Our happiness comes at a price. We appreciate our freedom now, because we all know how different it has been. I know it’s a painful memory for many of you, but I request you to close your eyes for a moment and think back on the war. Think of the fear and uncertainty we lived in. Think of the cruelties we committed. Remember the innocent people who suffered and died. Think of the loved ones we’ve lost. Honour their memory.”
He closed his eyes and hung his head. The representatives on the stage followed his example, as did the people on the plaza. Everybody was silent.
After a minute or so, Zuko began to speak again.
“To make sure that this will never happen again, we must continue to strive for peace, freedom and prosperity for everyone. This may be difficult sometimes, but we know how much it’s worth. Never forget! Never again!”
“Never forget! Never again!” the people repeated. The words echoed against the palace walls that magnified the hundreds of voices even more. Katara, too, let the mantra pass her lips. That sentence had been repeated over and over again after the war. To how many ceremonies had she accompanied Aang? Impossible to count.
“Now let’s vow our unwavering dedication to peace,” Zuko said, and turned back to the representatives of the other nations.
Feng stepped forwards first. Her face was tight from the nerves, but her voice was firm.
“We vow to recreate what was lost.”
She placed an offering of incense on the altar in the middle of the stage. She folded her hands together and bowed. Her orange robes swayed in the breeze that came from the sea and brought some coolness to the sweltering city. After she stepped back, it was Jian’s turn. He placed an armful of flowers on the altar and said:
“We vow to repair what was damaged.”
He bowed too, and then Sokka took his place. Sweat trickled from under his heavy fur mantle, but he kept his back straight and approached the altar with a serious face. The Water Tribe gave an offering of wine.
“We vow to teach what was forgotten,” he said.
Finally Zuko stepped forward and placed a candle on the altar.
“We vow to protect what is vulnerable.”

All representatives kneeled, closed their eyes and bowed their heads. While the whole plaza seemed to hold their breath, they prayed in silence. Then they stood up again. Tradition dictated that the offerings should be burned to reach the Spirits- at least in the Fire Nation custom. Katara expected Zuko to set the altar on fire, but instead he gestured to someone behind the Fire Sages. To her surprise, Hanabi came forward. She was dressed in her white mourning robe, but with the wide red skirt of a Fire Sage priestess, and the golden shoulderpieces of the royal family. Her kris hung at her side and a crown that Katara hadn’t seen before enclasped her topknot. Two rounded flames on either side, with a pin going through them. No, she had seen that crown before. It had once been Fire Lord Sozin’s when he was still prince, then it had been Avatar Roku’s, and she had last seen it in Zuko’s hands- although he had never worn it. The crown of the Heir of Fire. The girl that stepped forward to face the people she would one day rule seemed very different from the girl that had cried at her mother’s funeral only a month or two ago. This was a true Crown Princess, and the people gaped at her in appropriate awe.

She bit her lip with a serious look and spread her legs widely into a horse stance. Her fist shot forward, and fire burst from it. The altar lit up in flames.
A collective gasp went through the audience. Besides her, Katara heard Sokka and Suki gasp as well. She realised that only Zuko, Iroh and herself had known about Hanabi’s bending ability before. She looked at Hanabi’s proud face, enlightened by the fire she had just produced, and smiled. Typically Zuko, to announce his daughter’s talent to the world in such a theatrical way. But it suited her. Petals of the burning flowers fluttered around her on the sweet-smelling smoke, mimicking her name. Flower of Fire, heir to the throne. Katara felt her heart surging with pride, and when she glanced at Zuko she saw the same look on his face.
“So the jerkbender’s kid is a jerkbender too,” she heard Sokka say quietly. “Figures.” He and Zuko exchanged grins. Hanabi bowed to the altar, to the cheering people, and lastly to her father. Then she ran across the stage to Katara and threw her arms around her legs. She looked up to her with gleaming eyes. “Did you see me, auntie?” Katara knelt down, trying to ignore the stares from the audience. She hugged her and whispered: “I did! Well done!” Hanabi blushed. For the rest of the ceremony, she kept holding her hand.

After the Fire Sages had closed the official peace-sealing ceremony, it was time for the musicians to climb the stage. The representatives of the Nations descended the stage at the backside. Sokka threw off his wolf-fur mantle with a loud groan. Katara, too, unbuckled her stole and shrugged off her thick outer robe. Under it she wore the light cotton dress in summersky blue that had been her go-to the last few weeks. Sokka also stripped down to his sleeveless wrapped shirt and even Suki took off her armor.
“Aren’t you warm?” Katara asked Hanabi. The girl shook her head.
“I like warm!” she said. She pointed at her topknot. “Do you like my new crown, auntie? Daddy gave it to me yesterday.”
“It looks very beautiful on you.”
Sokka clapped Zuko on his back. “That was a great speech once again, my brother,” he said. “Now come on, take off that mantle and crown, and come drinking with me.”
Zuko grinned and shook his head. “I can’t be seen getting drunk, Sokka…”
“What do you care about who sees you? You’re Fire Lord, you can do whatever you want!”
“Just wait until you are chief,” Suki said. Sokka shrugged.
“If it’s up to Dad, I still have a while.”
“Just change your clothes, wear your hair loose and go to the cheaper inns,” Katara said. “There are more people with scars there, and they won’t ever have seen their Fire Lord up close.”
Zuko smiled at her. “Will you come with us?” he asked. She shook her head. “I’ll come find you later. I want to walk around the festival with Hanabi a bit first.”

The plaza filled with loud music and dancing people. Katara was happily surprised to see dark-skinned Water Tribe people, green-eyed Earth Kingdom citizens and even a handful of Air Acolytes with shaved heads among the crowd. No one paid attention to her in her simple dress, and with Hanabi’s hand in hers she weaved through the masses. They were just two other people celebrating the festival. Happy excitement filled her stomach.
“Fire flakes?” she asked Hanabi, who nodded enthusiastically. At the stall she was joined by Suki, who had washed her face and wore her casual dark green tunic again. Iroh, changed back into his look of retired scholar, pushed her hand away when she wanted to pay and handed the vendor a few coins instead.
They danced to the nomads’ music for a while. When Hanabi got out of breath, the five of them retreated to the quieter alleys in the old city center. They drank some water from a fountain. The smell of incense engulfed them as they passed a large temple. Iroh cleared his throat.
“This is the temple dedicated to the souls who have passed to the Spirit World,” he said. “I’d like a moment here, if you don’t mind.”
“We’ll join you,” Katara said.
“I’ll wait outside,” Suki said, subconsciously placing a protective hand on her belly. Kyoshi Island had a strong belief in death contamination, and she did not want to trigger bad luck for her baby.

As she followed Iroh in, Katara was reminded of the temple at Mai’s parents’ estate. Large red-lacquered beams of wood supported the high roof, and candles cast a low light over the many, many wooden nameplates that hung on the walls. Fresh flowers adorned the altar and were left here and there in front of names. Hanabi must also have felt the similarity, maybe just by the oppressing atmosphere, because she became quiet suddenly. She grabbed Katara’s hand and held it tightly.
Iroh slowly walked purposefully to a corner, a little aside to the main altar. The nameplates were gold here, some inlaid with rubies, others covered with fine filigrain. Katara recognized the herald of the royal family and stepped back to give Iroh privacy. Turning her back to the kneeling old man, she led Hanabi to the opposite corner, away from the other visitors. Hanabi gave her a questioning look and Katara knelt down beside her.
“This is a place to remember people we have lost,” she whispered. Hanabi’s quick mind had already figured that out.
“Like mommy,” she said, her lip trembling. Katara nodded, and caressed the side of her head. Seeing the tears well up in the girl’s eyes, she quickly suggested:
“Do you want to pray for her? Come, we can do it together.”
Hanabi sniffed and nodded. She sat down on her knees next to Katara and imitated her folded hands and closed eyes.
Grief tore at her heart like a beast, and anger and regret also flared up, making her feel the hot sparks that usually preceded her uncontrolled firebending. But she breathed deeply, the way her father had taught her, and managed to tame the beasts. Underneath the raw sadness, she tried to remember her mother before her sickness. Beautiful, stern, but she had also often seemed sad. Hanabi suddenly remembered details that had never seemed that important before. The lips, that had so often pressed together in disapproval, smiling when she had written her mother’s name for the first time. The slender cold hands that used to berate her, tucking her in at night.
Her tears were still hot, but she was quiet and composed as they rolled slowly down her cheeks.

Meanwhile Katara bowed into the direction of the altar, so deep that her forehead touched the cool tiles of the floor.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Hanabi heard her whisper. Then she felt Iroh’s hand on her shoulder, and looked up. He helped her to her feet and handed her a small candle.
“Here, you can go put this on the altar,” he said. She solemnly took the candle from his hands and walked over.
Iroh carefully lowered himself to the floor next to Katara, groaning as his knees creaked.
Katara came up from her kow-tow, her face pale.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Iroh said. “But isn’t the fact that we’ll all be dead one day all the more reason to celebrate life?”
“Life just seems to slip away between my fingers,” Katara said. “Even my own.”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself in a place like this. But realizing how quickly everything can be over... I feel like I wasted my youth chasing an illusion.”
Iroh gave her an ironic smile. “You are still so young, Katara. Your best years haven’t even started yet. I hadn’t even seen a real battlefield when I was your age, and I was still convinced of our Nation’s glory. Be glad that you have gathered so much wisdom already.”
“But I only left unhappiness in my wake, and I can’t even be happy myself.”
“Both are untrue. We all get thrown misfortunes at us, but it is up to ourselves how we deal with them. Happiness you can only build yourself. Look at Aang,” he said, ignoring Katara’s pained expression. “He lost his friends and family, but he gathered a new family around him. The world was torn in war, so he set out to change it. He thought the love of his life had left him, but he found happiness with someone he would otherwise never have given that chance. Learn from him, Katara. Let the dead rest, and don’t let the past tug too heavily at you.”
Katara groaned. “Why are you so wise?!”
Iroh laughed quietly. “It comes with experience, and sometimes at great cost. Come, help your old uncle to his feet,” he said. “I’m done with being wise for today.” Katara quickly stood up to give him a hand. Hanabi came back to them after having lit her candle, a serious but calm look in her eyes.
Back in the sunlight they reunited with Suki, and continued their way down the street. As they passed a small tea shop, Iroh halted and cast a look inside. Half in the shadows, an elderly lady was bent over a pai sho board. She raised her eyebrows at the group, and slid a single tile forward.
Iroh looked at his companions. “How about some tea here, ladies? Or some refreshing cold wine?” Suki and Katara glanced at each other, then both shrugged.
“Sure!”

“Another one?” Sokka nudged his elbow just a little too hard in Zuko’s side. “Come on, I’m paying.”
“Nonsense,” Zuko protested as he pushed his friend’s hand away from his purse. “The Fire Nation hasn’t raided the Water Tribes for all those years to expect them to pay for my ale now!”
He took a string of copper coins from his sleeve and put it on the bar before them.
“A bottle of your best firewhiskey, good man,” he said to the innkeeper. The man scratched his stomach and narrowed his eyes at Zuko, wondering where he had seen that scarred face, half-hidden under unruly hair, before. He shrugged. Countless ex-soldiers frequented his establishment, situated conveniently close to the dance halls. Plenty of them had burn scars. And good copper didn’t smell. He grabbed the money and turned around to reach up the shelves with glassware. He pulled the cork from a dusty bottle, placed it in front of the two shabby-looking men and gave them two cups.
“Enjoy, gentlemen,” he said as he took their empty ale jugs away. They looked like vagrants, but their coins were shiny and their shoulders a little too broad to argue with, so he decided to just leave them alone.

Zuko poured a cup for his guest, which Sokka emptied in one gulp. He grimaced.
“I can’t believe you people drink your alcohol from these tiny tea cups! Just let me have it straight from the bottle,” he said. Zuko shook his head.
“Haven’t you peasants learned civilization yet?” They both roared with laughter.
Sokka wiped his face and, still chuckling, poured a cup for Zuko.
“I’m glad to see you can still laugh,” he said. Zuko’s face quickly changed, his expression becoming more solemn.
“It’s strange. I knew it was coming, so in a way it was almost a relief… One moment I’ll be consumed with sadness and feel like the world can never be the same, but the next moment something mundane will bring me back to earth and I seem to manage just fine.”
“Mourning is weird,” Sokka agreed. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever really gotten over Yue, but somehow that feeling is just a part of my life now.”
“We learn how to cope with it, I guess. I’m so used to the feeling of loss from losing my mother that I almost can’t imagine not having it.”
“Yeah, exactly. I had the same when my mom passed away, though I guess I was lucky to have Katara.”
Zuko gave a lopsided smile. “Anyone would be lucky to have Katara.”
Sokka put down his cup and gave his friend a long hard stare.
“You really love her, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question. Zuko’s cheeks became red with guilt, but Sokka was quick to pat his shoulder.
“She already told me. Don’t worry, I support you two.”
His friend let out a sigh in relief. “Thanks, that means a lot. I do love her, I have loved her for a long time. It’s just… so confusing.”
“I totally understand, brother,” Sokka said, pouring Zuko another cup before taking a sip straight from the bottle himself. “I used to be confused too. How can I deal with my feelings for Yue, honour her memory, and yet be happy with Suki? It felt like I was in love with two persons at the same time, which I guess is possible. But nonetheless I couldn’t compare them at all. Yue had always been unattainable. I knew I would never be able to be with her from the moment I saw her. That made it a little easier.”
“I see what you mean… But if, hypothetically, Yue would suddenly come back to life? What would you do then?”
Sokka stared at the table, then took another swig. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Guess I’d be in trouble then. But I’ve built my life with Suki, and honestly… My love for Yue feels more like the memory of a dream now. We only knew each other for such a short time, and we were so young. Maybe it wouldn’t even have worked.”
Zuko slowly nodded.
“I see what you’re getting at,” Sokka continued. “But you and Katara know each other much better. It’s not like she’s been dead for the last fifteen years.” He took another sip and passed the bottle on to his friend, who followed his example. “It’s pretty simple, really. Katara loves you and you love her. What happened in the past ultimately doesn’t matter. It’s gone. You have to look towards the future.”
Zuko’s face remained solemn for another second, but then he broke out into a smile.
“I’ll toast to that. To the future!”
Their cups clinked together again, and the innkeeper gave them another suspicious look from the corner of his eye, concerned about his glassware.

Chapter Text

Zuko groaned and rolled over. His head was bursting. He was getting too old for so much alcohol… How much had he had, anyway? He tried to remember the details of the later hours of last night, but it was all very blurry. He blinked, grateful for the dimness of the room, but frowned when he didn’t see Katara next to him. He’d gotten so used to waking up to her comforting presence that this sudden disappearance shocked him. Again he strained his blurry brain. Had she even been there when he fell asleep? He slowly stepped out of the bed, unsteady on his feet. He made his way to the bathroom and rinsed his mouth. A cold splash of water to his face cleared his mind somewhat.

It had been good to hang out with Sokka again. It reminded him how few friends of his own age he had. He had felt truly equal and at ease. With Sokka he didn’t have to weigh his every word or put on the wise Fire Lord act. The same could be said for Katara of course, but with Sokka at least there were no confusing feelings, and he could just have uncomplicated fun.
He fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe it was time to finally gather the courage and re-organize the official Fire Lord’s bedroom. He couldn’t keep acting like Mai’s ghost haunted the room. It was no business to sleep in his office, or worse, the guest’s room- especially if Katara was leaving. He couldn’t keep relying on her support.

The door opened, and the subject of his thoughts entered. She carried a steaming pot of tea and two cups.
“I’ve never been happier to see you,” he groaned.
She chuckled. “How do you feel?”
“Like a komodo rhino ran over me.” He took a cup from her hands and she filled it. The bracing heat and strong flavour cleared his mind. Katara sat next to him on the bed. He noticed that she also looked a bit rough around the edges. She sipped her tea quietly.
“I made a decision about Hanabi,” he said. Katara put down her cup.
“Oh?”
“I don’t want to send her away to school. I had a talk with her before the ceremony, when I gave her the Heir of Fire crown, and I think it’s best if she stays here. Not only does she need the comfort and safety of a familiar environment, I also don’t want her to associate the palace with tragedy. If she leaves now, she will only look back on it as a place of loss and sadness. But she has to re-learn all of its other aspects. And that counts for me, too.”
“But what about her education?”
“Master Piandao has agreed to travel here once a month for training. It’s not that far of a journey for him, and he has frequent business in the capital anyways. He might take his top students with him sometimes to train the royal guards, too. Jeong-Jeong is too old to travel much, but that’s okay- I figured that a teacher who trained the Avatar is good enough to train my daughter, too.”
Katara laughed at his proud face during those last words. “So you’ll train her in firebending yourself? That’s great! I know what a good teacher you are.”

Zuko leaned back on one elbow, his hands around the warm teacup. His headache had lessened and his mind was somewhat clearer now, and the remnants of the alcohol together with the tea made him feel more relaxed than usual.
“You called her Hanabi after those fireworks on your coronation, didn’t you?” Katara asked. “I’ve never seen you look at anything like that afterwards, except for her. Your face was radiating pure joy.”
“She’s the sun of my life,” he said. He looked at her, thoughtful. “I guess that makes you my moon.”
She blushed, and lightly pushed against his shoulder. “Don't be silly.”
He put his teacup down. “Do you even realize how much I’ll miss you?”
She looked at the ground and was silent for a moment. “I guess I made myself quite useful,” she said finally.
He pulled her arm to drag her down beside him. She tried to avoid his eyes, but he looked at her intently. “Now you shouldn’t be silly. It’s not about your usefulness. You’re not a secretary. I value what you did for the Council and everything else immensely, but that’s not what I’ll miss. Other people can do that too. But I will miss you, Katara, the person I love.”
“You’re not making the goodbye any easier,” she said with a weak smile. “Zuko, how can I leave you?”
He rubbed her shoulder. “It’s not forever. We each have work to do. But maybe in a few years, when we’re both ready, would you... would you consider coming back here, to be a mother to Hanabi, and… a wife to me?”
She pressed her lips together, her eyes aflame, and then burst out in a wide smile.
“Would I? Zuko, of course I would!”
He grinned widely and hugged her close. Their noses touched, and he carefully kissed her. She kissed back with vigour.

After all those months of repressed pining, followed by months of tiptoeing and guilt, it was almost surprising how natural making love felt. Katara’s skin was as soft as it had looked, glowing warm in the candlelight in his office late at night. Zuko’s caresses were even gentler than what she had imagened when she still slept alone in the guest room. The hangover blurred everything together into a pleasant stream of kisses and touches in the half-dark. A soft “is this okay?”, a whispered “ah, yes, I like this,” a quiet moan, a giggle. Nothing but skin and lips and hands. It was new and yet it had always been like this. Finally their love was more than a single, secret, stolen kiss or a tearful drunken confession, finally they could openly express all their feelings and desires.
Zuko mumbled I-love-you’s into the curls at Katara’s temple, as she lay huddled in the curve of his arm. She traced the scar on his chest, the scar that should’ve been hers. The confusion, the guilt, the grief- everything was at peace now.
“I’ve never felt so complete,” she said, more to herself than to him.
“It’s like everything is finally in the right place,” he agreed. She looked up at him smiling, and nodded.
“I’ll be sad to leave you tomorrow, but now at least I can go without any regrets.”
“My only regret is not having this sooner. Not having worked harder to achieve it.”
She kissed his forehead. “Don’t work yourself up over the past. We are here, now. It’s good.”

Zuko stood at the docks, looking out over the ships, while a strong north-western wind let the sails bulge and made his coat flap around his legs. The last of his gifts to Kyoshi Island and the Southern Water Tribes were being loaded into the belly of the huge ocean liner moored at the nearest dock. It would take only a week to reach the South Pole.
Katara stood next to him, Hanabi’s hand in hers. She was explaining the workings of the ships to her and answering her endless questions. Sokka and Suki came up from the ship, signalling that the loading was done. Hanabi skipped over towards them to ask more questions about sailing.
While Hanabi was distracted, Zuko tugged at Katara’s sleeve to take her aside. She was wearing the long-sleeved sky-blue dress that she had arrived in months ago, and carried her parka over her arm. The sea wind would be cold, and back in the South Pole it might already be snowing.
He took her hand and pressed something into it. Cold metal pricked her fingers, and her eyes grew wide at the sight of gold.
“I can’t accept this. This is the Fire Lady’s crown, I have no right wearing it. ”
“I’m not asking you to wear it. I just want to you keep it with you. It’s a promise. That as long as I am Fire Lord, no other person will wear it.”
She looked at him with smiling eyes. “Then I will treasure it as such.”

Hanabi came running back to them and threw her arms around Katara’s legs.
“Auntie, uncle Sokka says the ship is going to leave soon!”
“I guess I have to get going then,” Katara said. She knelt down to be at the same height as the girl.
“Do your best in training, okay? Work hard. And if your daddy is strict with you, know that it’s only because he believes in you.”
Hanabi nodded solemly.
“Write me letters when you practice your writing. I’ll send you letters, too.”
Hanabi’s face started to crunch up. She sniffed. “I don’t want you to go. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. But it’s not forever! I’ll be back.” Katara smiled confidently at the girl, although to part from her weighed heavily on her heart, too. She had come here bitter over her childlessness, but had somehow, in between everything else, gained a surrogate daughter. She kissed Hanabi’s forehead and ruffled her hair.
“If you nag your daddy enough, maybe he’ll take you on a trip to the South Pole,” she teased. Zuko groaned as Hanabi’s eyes glittered. Katara rose to her feet again, and met Zuko’s gaze. They said nothing; everything had already been said. Katara reached out her hand, and Zuko took it. He softly stroked her fingers.
“Write me.”
“Of course.”
“Now, go. Don’t miss the boat.”
“I’m sure they’ll wait for me,” Katara said, but she was interrupted by Sokka, who ran at them and yelled as he crushed Zuko in a hug.
“Bye bye, jerk lord! Don’t drown in paperwork. Come to the South Pole soon.”
Zuko punched Sokka’s upper arm and tried to escape from the hug. “I’ll try, okay? Now let me go and leave already!”
Suki also came up to hug Zuko, a lot gentler than Sokka.
“Seriously, don’t overwork yourself,” she said. “Or we’ll come back here to drag you away ourselves.”
“Please do,” he laughed. Then he turned back to Katara. His eyes caught the light of the afternoon sun and burned a deep gold.
“Safe travels. See you soon,” he smiled.
“Yeah, see you soon,” she smiled back. Then the blue-clad group crossed the gangway, and Zuko hoisted Hanabi onto his hip. Together they waved until the ship was out of the harbour.

Chapter Text

The full moon tugged at Katara’s blood. She knew trying to sleep was futile. Although the nights were getting shorter this time of year, the moon had lost nothing of her power.

She snuck out of her tent and quietly walked towards the hilltop, from where she knew she could look out over the sea. What fourteen years ago had been a collection of huts and tents with only a handful of campfires and a watchtower made of snow, had grown into a town of considerable size. It grew and shrunk with the seasons, as the migrating tribes came for trade in winter and went off again in summer on fishing expeditions or grazing their herds on the tundra; and now, early in the light season, the town was small. A collection of stone houses formed the center of it, but those were mainly warehouses, and of course the large communal hall. Most people still preferred tents for their homes, especially in summer when the nights weren’t even freezing.

Katara passed the school building. Suki was headmistress, and a handful of Kyoshi Warriors also taught there. In summer it was just the townchildren, but during the trade season in winter, children from the migrating tribes would also join for the classes in writing, history, maths, and fighting. Until recently, Sokka had been instructing engineering, swordfighting and boomerang techniques, but now all his time was consumed by preparations for Chiefdom.
His installment was next month. Technically, anyone from the tribes could still challenge him, but he was so generally beloved that no one expected any trouble. Still, Sokka seemed to grow more anxious every day.

As if to prove her point, she found her brother already sitting on the hilltop. He stared at the double moons, one low above the sea, the other reflected in the water. As a child she had envied him for his sound sleep during full moon nights, when only she, the waterbender, was restless, but ever since their first trip to the North Pole he had joined her in her moon-fueled insomnia.
“Hey,” Katara said.
“Hey. I thought you might turn up.”
“I always hope it’s less in summer, but it never is.”
“Yeah.”
She sat down beside him. His wolftail had grown long, and he wore beads in his hair now. She’d gotten used to the beard, too, although she still teased him about it. All the swordfighting, sailing, fishing, and building had made his shoulders broad and his skin tough. Sometimes, if she saw him from the back, at a distance, she mistook him for her father. But his puns were still terrible and he had still not learned to successfully avoid slimy objects. Katara was not surprised the tribespeople loved him.

They sat quietly for a while. A thin cloud drifted across the sky, revealing glittering stars in its wake. In the east, the sky started turning a pale pink already.
“It’ll get busy in town soon. All the tribes are visiting for your installment.”
He grumbled. “I just hope no one challenges me to a duel.”
“Well, you are the best warrior of the village, right? Don’t worry,” she elbowed him. “They already voted for you. You’ll be okay.”
“I feel nauseous just thinking about it. I’m not even sure if I want to be Chief anymore. Can’t I just stay a teacher, build some houses, and fish a bit?”
“You can still teach and build and fish. You just also have to make decisions about the Tribe. You’re already telling everyone what to do, now it’s just going to be official.”
“That’s what Suki tells me too. I’m just worried I won’t do it right. What if I’m not a good leader? I’m not like Dad…”
She looked at him sideways. “You don’t have to be like Dad to be a good leader. You’re good as yourself.”
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“It’s about time you became Chief, honestly. Your children are already way older than we were when Dad was installed.”
“I don’t even remember that.”
“Neither do I. I just heard about it from Gran-Gran. A pity, I would’ve liked to know what that party was like! What do your kids think about it?”
“Kunik’s excited for the party. Maya seems a bit concerned. Yuka hasn’t given me her opinion yet but she cries a lot.”
“I suppose a Chief installment party is a big thing when you’re three months old.”
“It’s also a big thing when you’re three decades old!”
Katara laughed. They fell silent again. After a few minutes, Sokka asked:
“Hey, I noticed something recently. Doesn’t Maya remind you of someone?”
Katara bit her lip. “Actually, yes.”
“Who?”
“… Mom.”
Sokka kept looking out over the ocean. “Hah. Why Mom?”
“The way she smiles, as if she’s holding back a bit. And the shape of her face, I guess.”
“That’s interesting. I hadn’t noticed that yet.”
“Who do you see in her, then?”
He hesitated. “Yue.”
“Oh?”
“She has the same eyes. It’s weird, I know.”
It surprised Katara, but she shrugged. “I suppose we always try to find traces of the people we miss.”
Sokka leaned back and reached up a hand towards the moon.
“I sometimes think… Now that I’m going to be Chief, would I have been able to marry Yue? Would that have been good enough for her father?”
Katara scoffed. “Even a Southern Chief would never be good enough for a Northerner. They wouldn’t have enjoyed seeing their princess going here.”
“Guess I would’ve had to abduct her,” Sokka smiled. “Not that she would’ve agreed on that, anyway.”
Katara observed her brother quietly. “Do you still miss her often?”
“Not that often,” he said. “Sometimes.”
They stared at the moon together in companionable silence. After a while, when the pink dawn had turned the sky pale and starless and the moon was only a translucent ghost hovering above the horizon, they walked back to the village to catch a quick few hours of sleep before their tasks of the day would start.

A few days before Sokka’s installment, a Fire Nation ship moored at the docks. It was much larger than Zuko’s old little warship, that had been so impressive when it first showed up here, but it was still dwarfed by the big-bellied Earth Kingdom merchants' boats. The merchants seemed smug about this. But despite its modest size, the golden dragon and phoenix decorations betrayed its royal purpose.
Zuko was welcomed by a small delegation. Bato, Sokka and Katara waited for him, together with the dockworkers who would carry whatever luggage or gifts he had brought. Accompanied only by a couple of guards, Zuko and Hanabi descended the gangway.
Hanabi, wrapped in a thick quilted coat, halted at the end of the plank and took the view in. When she saw Katara her face lit up, and she ran up to her.
“Auntie Katara! I missed you!”
Katara caught the girl in her arms and lifted her up. Hugging her tight, she said: “Oh, you’ve grown! I’m so happy to see you!” Then her gaze fell on Hanabi’s father, coming up behind her. She carefully put the girl down and smiled at Zuko with gleaming eyes.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he said back.
Sokka interrupted their shyness and grabbed Zuko’s arms. “You two can smooch later! Let me at least properly welcome you first!”
Zuko grinned at him and returned the hug. He bowed to Bato, then to the dockworkers, and gave instructions about the luggage. Then the small delegation took him to the Chief’s tent, to pay his respects to Hakoda.

Hanabi’s eyes went wide as she took in the inside of the tent. Having come from the bright outside, she had to get used to the dim light, but when she had adjusted she gazed at the wall hangings- woven tapestries, lush furs, artifacts in strange shapes-, and at the people that filled the tent, with their strange hairstyles and strange clothes. Towards the back of the tent stood a seat that looked suspiciously like a folding chair, covered in furs and leather. On the seat sat a large man, who was also dressed in furs and leather. His wavy graying hair was half tied up in a wolftail, half hanging over his shoulders, and decorated with braids and beads. He seemed intimidating to Hanabi, but his large hands rested calmly on his knees, his broad shoulders were relaxed, and a smile glimmered in his eyes.
Hanabi squeezed her father’s hand, but he nudged her towards Katara. Hanabi reluctantly let go. At least auntie was here, a familiar beacon amidst all this unknown, even though she was also dressed in furs and smelled funny.
Her father bowed to the man in the seat, and they exchanged formal-sounding greetings. The gifts they had brought on the ship were carried in, and the man in the seat seemed pleased.
“Who is that?” she whispered to Katara. Her auntie laughed softly. “That’s my father,” she answered. “Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribes.”
Hanabi’s mouth formed a small ‘o’. She considered for a moment if this made Katara a princess, like her, but then decided that a Chief was something very different from a Fire Lord.
The official part of the welcome seemed to be over. The Chief -Katara’s father- had stood up from his seat and clapped Zuko on the back, and they were chatting and laughing now. Katara tugged Hanabi along to a group of people to the side. Hanabi recognized Katara’s brother, her uncle Sokka. To her surprise, she also saw some children among them. A girl around her own age with round blue eyes and two dark braids, and a slightly older boy who kept so close to Sokka that he was surely his son.
Uncle Sokka knelt down and smiled at her.
“Hanabi, I’d like you to meet my children,” he said. She was a little irked that he omitted the ‘Princess’ before her name, but she supposed they were guests in a strange country, so she couldn’t expect to be treated with the same reverence as at home. And uncle Sokka’s smile was so friendly that she immediately forgave him. She politely nodded at the two children.
“This is Kunik, and this is Maya,” Sokka said. The two stared at her impassively.
“Hello, nice to meet you,” Hanabi said to them, determined to show her good manners despite their obvious rudeness. Maya, the girl, mumbled a quiet “Hi”, but Kunik said:
“Your eyes are weird.”
At this, Hanabi lost her patience.
“Your eyes are weird, peasant,” she snapped.
“Hey!” Katara said to her. “Don’t say that.”
“He started!” she protested, pointing at Kunik. The boy crossed his arms. Sokka nudged him though.
“Yes, that’s not a nice thing to say, Kunik,” he said. “How about you apologize to each other and call it even?”
Hanabi stuck her tongue out to the boy, but he shrugged, and bowed to her.
“I’m sorry.”
At this apology, of course, she couldn’t stay behind, so she also bowed.
“I’m sorry too. Please forgive my rudeness.”
“Sure. Do you want me to show you where our playground is? We have a really cool slide.”
Hanabi nodded, and Kunik grinned. Sokka and Katara both sighed in relief.
“Diplomatic disaster avoided,” Sokka said, wiping mock sweat off his brow. “I’ll go with them to make sure they don’t hurt each other. You can take Zuko for a tour of the town,” he winked.
Katara narrowed her eyes at him. “Just be careful that you won’t be the one getting hurt.”

Katara and Zuko walked around town side by side, still a bit too self-conscious to hold hands or otherwise touch. Katara showed him the current building projects, the large communal hall where the festivities would be, and ended at the school. They saw Suki from a distance, supervising sparring students with her baby in a sling on her back.
“It’s lovely,” Zuko said. “You must be proud.”
“I am,” Katara smiled. “We’ve come far.”
“Do you teach at the school as well?”
“No. There are no other waterbenders anymore, they all went back to the North Pole with Master Pakku. I assist with sparring sometimes, it’s good for the students to know how to work with bending. And I help out with construction work. I think that’s where I’m most useful right now!”
Zuko laughed, but heard the badly hidden frustration. He changed the subject.
“Looking forward to the celebrations?”
Her smile returned. “Yeah! I’m gonna do a really cool waterbending demonstration that no one has seen yet, it’s gonna be great! I’m so proud of Sokka, too. He’ll be a great Chief.”
“Your father is still in good health though, isn’t he? Why is he stepping down?”
“It’s custom to have a young chief, in the prime of his life. Old men tend to get stuck in their habits, and we don’t like that. Traditionally the leader needed to be the strongest and fittest of the entire tribe. He’d lead the fishing, the sailing, and of course the fighting. Dad won’t be gone from the scene though! He’s going to be Sokka’s advisor. Old Chiefs are usually still very involved in everything.”
“I see. I always thought the habit of having young Chiefs was born out of necessity during the war.”
“Oh, it was too. No thanks to your Nation, no offense.”
Zuko inclined his head. “Justified.”
She elbowed him. “At least you have a proper young Fire Lord now, and all is well.”
He turned towards her, his face soft. “I missed you, Katara,” he said quietly. She reached out and cupped her hand around his elbow.
“I’m happy you’re here.”
He drew her towards him and pressed her close against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist and they stood like that for a long moment. Katara snuggled a bit deeper into the firebender warmth. Zuko rested his chin on top of her head and slowly exhaled.
“It’s good to be away from court for a bit. Calm down. See things from a new perspective.”
She looked up at him with teasing eyes. “Got any fresh ideas yet?”
“Hmm, maybe,” he hummed. He lightly touched her face and traced the curve of her cheek. “Only one has priority, right now, though.”
“And what might that be?”
“Kiss my love,” he said, and kissed her.

“It’s so cold here,” Hanabi pouted, stuffing her hands under her armpits and stomping around. “How do you bear it?”
“This is normal,” Maya said. “Mom said it’s even warm for this time of year.”
The two girls stood at the edge of the playground. Kunik had run off to join some older kids, but Hanabi didn’t mind. She liked Maya, who was quiet and thoughtful, but still wasn’t sure about her brother.
From the corner of her eye she saw uncle Sokka leaning against one of the playhouses, but he wasn’t paying attention to them. He had taken out a notebook and was scribbling rapidly, his tongue poking out a little.
“I thought there would be snow,” Hanabi said.
“You should come in winter then,” Maya answered. “Kunik and I built an igloo last time. We played battlefield and had to defend it with snowballs.”
“Ha! I bet I could’ve melted it with firebending,” Hanabi said. Maya’s eyes went wide.
“You’re a firebender?!”
“Yeah! Wanna see?”
Maya nodded fervently, and Hanabi jumped into a stance. With pursed lips she went through the movements of her latest exercise, and thin trails of flame followed her hands as she turned and stepped through the form.
Kunik came running back. “Wow, that’s so cool!” he shouted. “Do it again!”
Hanabi huffed. “I’m not a show pony,” she said. “You could at least say please.”
“Pleeeeease?” Kunik said, putting on his best puppy eyes. “It looked amazing!”
Hanabi could not resist such praise. She jumped on the low wall around the playground and took a moment to find her balance. Then she decided to show off her most difficult form, the one that ended in a kick. She took a deep breath, stepped, turned and kicked, and a blast of fire burst from her heel. Kunik and Maya clapped and shouted: “Again! Again!” Hanabi frowned, a little disappointed in the size of her flame, so she readily obliged to their pleas.
She breathed, stepped, and turned again, but at the moment she wanted to make an extra big kick, her foot slipped. She yelped and tried to regain her footing, but overshot and tumbled down the wall. Maya gasped, and Kunik shrieked.

Hanabi lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of the wall, clutching her ankle. She took short, ragged breaths and clenched her teeth in an attempt not to cry, but tears leaked from her eyes. Maya and Kunik rushed over to her.
“Quick, get Dad!” Kunik said, and Maya ran off. Kunik tried to help Hanabi sit up, but she kept curled up, her body shaking with soundless sobs.
Sokka and Maya came running back. Sokka saw Hanabi and his face went pale with worry.
“Okay, keep calm,” he said, kneeling down next to her. “Where does it hurt?”
Hanabi still couldn’t speak, but gestured to her ankle between sobs. Sokka gently lifted her up and stretched her leg out in front of her. She winced in pain as he slowly pulled her boot off.
“Right. Well shit, we’ll have war with the Fire Nation again now… But let’s see if you can move your toes, okay?”
Still clenching her teeth, Hanabi tried to wiggle her toes. When this was successful, Sokka carefully traced her ankle with his fingers and checked the bones. Kunik and Maya watched with wide eyes. Maya asked in a small voice: “Will we really have war with the Fire Nation now?”
Sokka shrugged. “Nah, Zuko will probably just kill me and call it even.”
“I’m so sorry, Dad, it’s my fault, I asked her to do it,” Kunik said. His lips were trembling.
At this, Hanabi finally looked up and said with clenched teeth: “No. It’s my own fault. I slipped.”
“Well, luckily it’s only a bruised ankle,” Sokka said. “You’ll be fine, you've got some good sturdy boots. We should get Katara to take care of it, though.”
“I’ll go get auntie!” Maya said, eager to be useful. She jumped up and ran off.
“Be careful!” Sokka shouted after her. “I don’t want you to slip too!”

He looked back at Hanabi. The girl had calmed down a little and was rubbing her eyes, still refusing to cry.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly to her, patting her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. I know it hurts, but Katara will heal it quickly.”
“My hands hurt too,” Hanabi sniffed. She held up her palms, where angry red lines showed how she had scraped her hands, trying to catch herself.
“Well, we can wash those already, that’ll help,” Sokka said. He uncorked the gourd that hung from his belt and poured some water over Hanabi’s hands. She grimaced.
“That’s cold.”
“Auntie Katara can heal it, right?” Kunik asked. Hanabi and Sokka both nodded.
“Auntie is the best healer in the world,” Hanabi said. “It’s because she’s a waterbender.”
“Hmm,” Kunik said, and took Sokka’s water gourd. “How does that work? Like this?” He poured some water on his own hands, and placed them on Hanabi’s ankle. Sokka reached out to pull his hands back, and started to say: “Don’t hurt-” when a faint glow erupted from under Kunik’s palms.
Sokka’s mouth fell open. Hanabi stared wide-eyed at Kunik, who also seemed surprised.
“Huh. Cool,” he said. Hanabi stretched her leg and carefully rotated her foot. She pulled herself up on Sokka’s shoulder and tried to stand. Gingerly she put her foot down. Then she met Kunik’s eyes. “You healed it!”

At that moment, Zuko came running towards them. Katara followed close behind, slowed down by carrying Maya.
“Hanabi! What happened?! Are you hurt?” Zuko said, frantically grasping his daughter’s arms. She winced, but said: “It’s okay, daddy. I’m fine.”
Zuko hugged her tight. Katara caught up with them and put Maya down. “But Maya said you’d bruised your ankle?”
“I did!” Hanabi said. “But Kunik healed it!”
All eyes shot towards the boy, who awkwardly held up his wet hands.
“I think we’ve got another waterbender, sis,” Sokka said.
Katara stood motionless, and Zuko could only say: “What?”
“I just did it like this,” Kunik said. He poured out a little more water from the gourd, took Hanabi’s hands, and lightly stroked over the grazed skin. When the glow subsided, her palms were soft and whole again. Everyone stared.
“Is- is that okay?” Kunik asked, suddenly nervous. Katara made a strange hiccuping noise, then crushed him into a big hug.

On the morning of Sokka’s installment, Zuko woke up in Katara’s tent only to find her gone already. This was unusual, she never got out of bed before him.
He quickly dressed in his formal clothes, then went to get Hanabi and take her to the Chief’s tent. Hanabi spotted Maya and Kunik at the table and immediately ran over. The three had been inseparable since the accident. Hanabi, completely at home, helped herself to fish and rice from the communal bowls, then sat cross-legged on the pillows and started chatting with her friends.
“You look like you could use some breakfast too,” Suki said from her seat next to the fire, and beckoned Zuko to join. He sat down next to her and also got himself some food. Suki noticed his gaze roaming around the tent, and said: “Katara’s helping Sokka get dressed in his Chief clothes. Hakoda’s there too. It’s a big family moment.”
“I can imagine. Must be stressful.”
“They seemed to be having fun,” Suki shrugged. “I heard a lot of laughter coming from our tent just now.”
She bounced her baby daughter up and down on her knee. Little Yuka seemed a lot more energetic and loud than Hanabi at that age, or maybe Zuko just didn’t remember it.
“Do you think you’ll feel different, being the Chief’s wife?” Zuko asked.
“Nah,” she said. “I’ll still go on teaching. Sokka’s been preparing for this so long, I don’t think things will change immediately.”
The tent flap at the entrance was pushed aside and a small but robust figure stepped in, still dressed in oversized sleeping robes and with unruly hair.
“Goooood morning to all of you,” she said, stretching herself out, “and especially to that tiny loudmouth on Suki’s lap. She woke me up.”
“Good morning, Toph,” Suki answered. “Hungry?”
“You bet!” Toph planted herself next to Zuko, who handed her a bowl, and she extended her feet towards the fire.
‘Aah, that’s nice. I’m glad you didn’t decide to hold this ceremony in winter. My feet are already frozen and it’s not even snowing.”
“Why don’t you wear those sole-less socks Shanti knitted for you?” Suki asked.
“I don’t like the colour.” It took one second, then Suki and Zuko both burst into laughter. This prompted baby Yuka to cry again.
“Hey, can I hold her for a bit?” Toph asked. Suki looked doubtful, but carefully placed the baby in Toph’s arms. Zuko raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Since when do you like babies?”
“I don’t. Especially not after spending three nights on a sky bison with Aang’s twins. Still better than getting seasick on a boat, but Spirits, they’re annoying. But this one seems… feisty. I like her.”
She cradled the baby in the nook of her elbow and lightly poked her. Yuka firmly grabbed her index finger with one little hand and her thumb with the other. She had stopped crying and seemed content exploring this interesting new person.
“Hah. Unbelievable how much strength she has in those tiny hands,” Toph said. Zuko and Suki exchanged glances. Zuko shrugged. Suki took another bite of fish.

In the back of the tent, Katara pushed a flap away and stepped inside. Aang entered after her, and they stood next to each other, observing the others. No one had noticed them yet.
“Hard to believe this is the Chief’s tent,” Katara said. “It feels more like a nursery right now.”
Aang laughed quietly. “Yeah, if even Toph is holding a baby…” He studied Katara’s face, soft and warm in the reflection of the fire. He shuffled his foot on the carpeted floor, and awkwardly started: “How is that for you? With the children, I mean. Sorry if that's uncalled for, if you don’t want to talk about it…”
Katara turned towards him and smiled. “It’s alright. I’ve made my peace with it.” She bit her lip. “Though I have to say it was a bit difficult to see Shanti and the twins, at first.”
“I’m sorry this is the first time you meet them,” Aang said. “I hope it doesn’t ruin the festivities for you.”
“It's good, actually. I was dreading it for a long time, and having it out of the way really clears things up.”
“I was dreading it, too,” Aang said. “I knew how it must make you feel.”
They were silent for a bit. Katara stared at the fire. Aang swallowed.
“You know, I can’t change the past, but…”
Katara raised her hand. “Don’t say it, please.”
“I wasn’t going to say what you’re thinking. Katara, I…” Aang took her hand, which startled her, but he looked at her earnestly. “I want to thank you for the time we spent together. I’m sorry I made it difficult for you. I felt really guilty ever since you left, but… Well, the truth is, I’m really happy right now. I want to leave the past behind and just enjoy the present. And I hope you can do that too. Do you think that’s possible?”
Katara nodded. “I understand. Thanks, Aang. Some things are still a bit painful, but I’ve also moved on a long time ago.”
Aang gave a cursive glance towards the fire, where Zuko was engaged in light-hearted banter with Toph and Suki. “I’m happy for you. I really am,” he said.
“I’m happy for you too. You deserve happiness.”
“So do you,” Aang smiled. He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.

At that moment, a horn sounded loudly outside. They both turned around. On the stage in front of the communal hall, Bato was blowing his lungs out on the large instrument, and Aang ran over to him. “Oh, let me, let me!”
Bato gladly pressed the narwalrus horn into his hands, and airbending-enhanced horn-blowing blared all through the town. A crowd was already gathered in front of the building, and more people rushed in.

Zuko stood up from the fire and saw Katara, silhouetted against the bright light in the entrance. He walked up to her and offered her his arm. She smiled and took it. Arm in arm, they stepped outside.