#sokka the actual diplomat: ignore them. please. that's what i do.

[concernedbrownbread]

reconciled zuko and azula the good-cop bad-cop dynamic

[azenkii]

A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons

...that i couldn't get out of my head:

(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)

he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.

his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'

he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)

he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,

he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time

when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)

when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them

he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture

he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)

he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap

he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.

he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')

(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)

he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)

the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law

once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee

when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord

the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.

zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar

he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear

he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden

most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)

one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket

zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)

on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it

the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'

zuko: facial what now

he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before

'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'

he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.

(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)

his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)

he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances

during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some

he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).

he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.

the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.

after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.

unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)

he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)

he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere

when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid

on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes

this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks

just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential

[bubble-tea-bunny]

pretty please

[zuko x reader]

author’s note: wowowow it’s been a minute. until this story, i literally hadn’t written anything since april. i really don’t like to write unless i’m in the correct headspace and it took about 4 months to get back into one ^^’ anyway, i’d been sitting on this idea since july, and i’m glad to have written it. hope you enjoy

word count: 3,341

The doors of the Jasmine Dragon are always open to welcome patrons and a cool breeze. Zuko marks the beginning and end of each day by the size of the crowd—which grows in the early hours and keeps him and Uncle Iroh decently busy until finally it begins to shrink—and by the crisp air which greets him in the morning and again in the evening, both instances when the sun is hidden by the horizon. Heavy rain has been pouring over Ba Sing Se as of late, but today is the first day where the clouds have cleared, and Zuko is once again able to gauge the time by the color of the sky: at opening, a wash of indigo with strips of pale yellow at the horizon like the sands of a faraway land, and at closing, reds and oranges like fire.

Dusk paints the rug in the center of the shop in a warm-toned light, the jasmine dragons embroidered upon it more like crimson dragons now. Zuko gently sets the tray with its empty pot and teacups down on the counter before turning around to wave at the last customers of the evening. They’d lingered to chat with Uncle Iroh, and Zuko had spent the time tidying the rest of the shop, so that once it’s just the two of them left, most of the cleaning is done.

Zuko yawns, feeling the fatigue catching up to him now that the place is silent but for the quiet clinking of ceramic dishes. Uncle Iroh chuckles.

“Tired?” he asks.

Zuko shrugs, a noncommittal answer. “A little, but I think I’d rather eat dinner than go to sleep right now.” As if on cue, his stomach growls. It had been busier than usual today, and as consequence, he’d decided to work through lunch.

“Did someone say ‘dinner’?”

A loud voice carries from all the way across the threshold, prompting Zuko and Uncle Iroh to see who it is. Sokka leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and crooked smile on his face. “Because I could do with some food right about now.”

Upon realizing who is standing there, Zuko smiles widely. “Sokka! You didn’t mention you’d be in Ba Sing Se.”

“To be honest, I didn’t really plan on it, but I was in the area, and you know how the saying goes: spontaneity is the spice of life, and yada yada.” Sokka waves a hand dismissively.

Catching up with a friend he hasn’t seen in a while makes Zuko look forward to dinner even more, but he stops short and glances to his right, where Uncle Iroh is already watching him.

“Go,” he encourages with a nod. “I’ll clean up here.”

“Thank you, Uncle.” Zuko gives a respectful bow, and then he’s traipsing across the teashop to join Sokka, and they descend the steps together into a dark and brilliant night.

The first subject of conversation is figuring out where to eat, and after tossing a few suggestions back and forth, they settle on a noodle bar that stays open late. If they get caught up talking for too long, they could remain there a while. The rest of the walk, then, is spent swapping stories of what they’ve been up to since last they saw each other. Zuko listens attentively, smiling absentmindedly, truly interested in the adventures his friend has been on.

It’s when the tables are turned and Sokka asks What about you? that Zuko heaves a sigh, shoulders sagging. He’d been so busy back in the Fire Nation with diplomatic affairs, talking to this person and then that person, visiting other regions and welcoming ambassadors to his own. By now, he handles his position as Fire Lord with grace and respectability, but he’s still human and gets worn out too.

“That’s why I came to Ba Sing Se,” he explains. “To get away from all that and just spend time with Uncle.” And sure, he gets tired after working at the Jasmine Dragon all day, but it’s mostly from being on his feet, going from the back of the shop to the front to serve customers, a route he repeats for hours. It’s a different sort of tired from fulfilling his duties as the Fire Lord, and is entirely worth it to him, to take a moment to be no one but Zuko, a guy who works at a teashop.

Sokka smiles sympathetically. “I’m glad I chose to stop by Ba Sing Se. I was wondering how you’d been doing.”

The stress slowly melts away as Zuko smiles back, his shoulders not feeling nearly as heavy as when he’d first arrived in the city. He misses his friends whenever they’re all apart, and he too has lingering thoughts about their wellbeing always in the back of his mind as he goes about his days, and now that he’s finally reunited with one, he’s beginning to feel more like himself again, pulled back down to the ground.

As they turn the corner, the Firelight Fountain comes into full view, yellow lanterns illuminating the ground and the nearby buildings. Though it’s dark, there are still people here, either passing through on the way to their destinations or choosing to congregate on the benches and the edge of the fountain itself. It’s in the latter location that Zuko spots you.

You’re seated a little farther away from the only other two people who have chosen the fountain as a place to rest, perhaps to afford you some quiet as you read a book. The gurgle of the water behind you serves as a perfect white noise, enough to fill the silence but not to pull your attention away.

“Ah… She’s pretty cute.”

Zuko blinks and glances at Sokka. “What?”

Sokka tilts his head in your direction. “I saw you looking at her.”

“Wha—I was not.” But Zuko’s avoiding eye contact and his cheeks feel warm, embarrassed to have been caught (even if he hadn’t exactly been attempting subtly to begin with).

“Hey, come on, nothing to be shy about!” Sokka playfully nudges him with his elbow, and they slow to a complete stop, finding themselves now under the lights of all the lanterns, stopped just on the inside edge of where the light meets the darkness it couldn’t quite reach. Zuko’s still not looking at him, and Sokka’s grin grows. He is thoroughly amused. “You should go talk to her.”

Zuko shakes his head. “No!” he replies hastily. And then, more slowly, “She looks busy anyway.”

Sokka raises a brow. “I bet she’d make time for you. Any girl would.”

The matter-of-fact way in which Sokka says this is flattering, truly, but it doesn’t convince Zuko that approaching you would be anything but a bad idea. “Forget about it. Let’s just get food.” He tries to continue walking but Sokka is quick to clap him on the shoulder, halting his steps, and he just barely keeps from stumbling backwards from the sudden stop in momentum.

“Oh no you don’t,” Sokka declares. Zuko brushes his hand off with a groan and twists around, a silent plea to let the subject drop inherent in his eyes, but Sokka easily ignores it. “What if she’s your soulmate? You can’t just keep walking!”

“My… soulmate?” Okay, now Sokka is starting to blow this out of proportion. He’d spared a glance your way because you were pretty and that was it. “There’s no such thing—”

“You don’t know that!” Sokka exclaims.

“And you do?” Zuko counters.

Sokka shrugs but it’s not a sign of defeat. “I’m just saying, when the soul knows, it knows. You didn’t pick her out of the crowd for no reason.”

It’s awfully dramatic and Zuko opens his mouth to respond but then closes it, deciding he wouldn’t win this debate. Sokka is persistent when he wants to be, and when it comes to the topic of love, Zuko’s on the losing side every time. He knows, however, that if he were really insistent, Sokka would let it drop and they would resume their walk to the noodle bar, but it wouldn’t be without a warning that Zuko was making a huge mistake and that he’d regret it, going to bed thinking about you and then dreaming about you but he’d never be able to find you again—

Even imaginary Sokka is hard to handle and Zuko takes a deep breath, momentarily diverting his gaze from the real Sokka in front of him over to you, and back again.

“So…” Sokka trails off, watching him expectantly.

“I’d mess it up,” Zuko offers weakly in the way of an excuse.

“You’re the Fire Lord,” Sokka says as if that solves the issue. “You got this!”

“I don’t… really see how that’s supposed to help me…” Zuko tilts his head, confused.

Sokka rolls his eyes. “Just go!” He gives Zuko an encouraging shove.

With a quiet huff, Zuko ambles in the direction of the fountain, where you still sit reading, none the wiser to the fact you were the subject of their conversation. Halfway through the walk, he looks over his shoulder at Sokka, who gestures enthusiastically for him to keep going and to stop looking over here because you’re over there and you’re what’s important.

Is it too late to turn around? Zuko thinks begrudgingly to himself as he sets his sights on you. He ruminates on the question with every step he takes, reasoning that perhaps he could deal with Sokka talking off his ear about how he will regret not doing anything, because surely Sokka couldn’t keep it up for that long, right? (The immediate doubt Zuko feels upon considering this point speaks for the contrary.)

But before he can make up his mind, suddenly he’s in front of you and though he’s said nothing, you sense his presence and your eyes slide up from the pages of your novel to him, the lower half of your face concealed by the hardcover. The few seconds of silence that follow feel instead like a few years, panic filling Zuko as he fails to say anything. Your eyes flicker to the side, which he assumes you do to check if he’d actually meant to approach someone else because, well, why would he be talking to you? You don’t know each other.

“That book seems really interesting,” he says finally, and he wants to crawl into a hole and hide. Five words in and it is already not going well. What kind of opening was that?

You blink and lower the book, using a finger to mark your place before closing it to get a better view of the cover. It’s blank.

“W-Well, I just thought it was really interesting there’s nothing on the cover!” Zuko rushes out. “Since, you know, you usually don’t see that, and… and…” His intention was to segue into asking you what it was about, having decided that to be his way into a longer interaction with you, but the words die in his throat the longer he looks at you now that your face isn’t hidden because you’re a lot prettier up close and he learns tonight that you’re what all those love stories must be talking about when they extol the levels of beauty which render a lovesick heart speechless.

If you’re bothered by the bouts of silence, this most recent one stretching longer than the first, you don’t say anything. In contrast, you continue to sit there, watching him steadily, waiting patiently, and Zuko feels bad that he’s so bad at this. Never has the act of talking come less easily than it does now, in a situation where the stakes are lower than any dialogues he has with diplomats or government officials. It really shouldn’t be this difficult talking to a girl, but maybe he has it backwards and the stakes here are higher, because if he entertains Sokka’s admittedly outrageous claim just a few minutes previous about what you could possibly mean to Zuko, and if in fact the hands which keep the world turning are also those which keep hearts beating with purpose to seek out their companion, then the stakes as he stands here are the highest of all.

He’s still scrambling for what to say next, entirely unsure how to salvage a conversation that hasn’t even taken off yet. Nervously he rubs the back of his neck. Sokka must be observing the whole situation unfolding with equal parts stress and exasperation because even if Zuko isn’t actually flailing his arms, helpless and drowning in an open sea called love, his awkward posture and anxious spluttering are enough of a metaphorical signal. Sokka’s on the shore, too far to come to his rescue right away, but maybe this will go the way of those romantic tales and it will be you who holds a hand out to save him instead.

However, you’re beaten to the punch by those aforementioned invisible hands of destiny as they, quite literally, push Zuko closer to his own. A couple of kids dash past the fountain, laughing loudly as they chase each other in a game, and one of them checks Zuko in the back, which causes him to stumble forward.

He manages to catch himself with a hand braced on the edge of the fountain, and luckily too, because if he hadn’t, he would’ve fallen on you and knocked both of you back into the water. But now the two of you are face-to-face, mere inches away, and your eyes are wide in surprise and he is mortified. This entire conversation (if one could call it that) he had been plagued with the urge to apologize for being so skittish and acting so strange and the urge multiplies now because he could’ve accidentally kissed you and he’s honestly not sure what would be worse—that, or the two of you tumbling into the fountain.

This close up, the top half of your face takes up most of his field of vision, but in his peripherals he notices the curl of your mouth, and his gaze briefly drops down to it, to the smile which has found its way there.

“Looks like you just fell for me,” you remark teasingly, the quip slipping from your lips so easily and in this moment he can think only of two things: one, that your voice is incredibly soft, like the first warm light of morning settling on his skin, and two, that you have no idea how right you are.

Zuko’s wrist begins to feel slightly sore from bearing the brunt of his weight and that’s when he realizes he’s stayed that way for too long, and he clears his throat and stands back up straight. “S-Sorry…” he says quietly. For being skittish and acting strange and, now, for almost falling on you.

Your smile widens and it reaches your eyes and in their depths are the reflection of the lanterns surrounding you both and Zuko can’t help but liken them to stars strung across the sky. “It’s okay.”

The tension has slowly ebbed away, your almost-collision the perfect ice breaker. It had been a shocking one, certainly, but that was what Zuko needed. Anything more subtle and he probably wouldn’t have felt relaxed enough to think clearly. From the few words you’ve said, he knows you’re far from bothered by him approaching you, and he’s able to calm down a little bit.

“So as I was saying, that book of yours…” Internally he cringes. Why did he have to go back to the book? This was the perfect chance to steer the topic elsewhere! What was he supposed to follow up to that?

“It is interesting,” you comment. Zuko’s cheeks heat up. You’d noticed his struggle. But he is grateful nonetheless that you’re helping carry the conversation along. The fact you’re seemingly in no rush to end it must be a good sign.

“I could explain it to you, the plot, since there’s no summary or even title on it or anything, so…” You trail off and he wonders if he’s imagining the nervousness suddenly inherent in your amiable grin, as you go quiet and look up at him and—oh. Oh.

This is the opening he’d been looking for, the one he’d been unable to find himself because he is completely helpless in scenarios like these. If the universe and its mysterious machinations had been the hand to keep him from drowning, you’re on the lifeboat checking to make sure he’s okay, the sun behind your head a halo and maybe heaven feels like a warm day and smells like salt in the ocean. And maybe it looks like you.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Zuko states. “Maybe over some tea?”

“I’d like that.”

Then, before he has the chance to change his mind, “Are you free right now?”

The question stops you short, and he’d completely understand if you said no. This is incredibly short notice, and there was no issue with making plans for another day. But you have no qualms about the sudden invitation, for you place your bookmark to save the page then stand, clutching your book close to your chest. “I am.”

Zuko grins lopsidedly. “Great.”

He guides you in the direction of the Jasmine Dragon, and as you begin to walk, while your focus is on the path in front of you, he glances quickly over at Sokka. He wouldn’t have made the split second decision to ask you out right now if he didn’t think Sokka would be fine with it. But he knows his friend well and Sokka is, indeed, perfectly okay with the unexpected turn in the evening. From across the way, by the lanterns farthest from you two, he is smiling proudly and giving a thumbs up. They would have time to catch up tomorrow (and Zuko is sure Sokka will want him to recount everything about his time with you).

At the teashop, he tells you to pick any table you’d like while he goes to prepare a pot of tea. You both lose track of time as you talk, for the conversation opens up to other avenues aside from your novel, and Zuko notes that the tea he’s drinking has never tasted so good. It reminds him of something he heard a while ago, hazy in his mind currently, and he wracks his brain trying to recall it. What was it that Uncle said?

The best thing to have with tea is a good friend. Yes, that sounds correct. Zuko can envision him as he says that, a teacup clutched in his hands and wise grin on his face, and at the thought, Zuko hides his smile behind his own as he takes another sip. But the move doesn’t escape you, and you catch the small smile. It makes you halt in the middle of your sentence to address it.

“What?” you ask, amused and curious.

Zuko shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

Your eyes are sparkling and he knows that you know he’s lying, but for his sake you drop the subject, instead returning to your original topic. And he continues to listen and hang on all your words and he is the luckiest man in the world because he’s sharing tea with someone who is beginning to feel like so much more.

He’s left wondering if this is the feeling of finding the one, the right one, the one for him. He doesn’t want to give this to Sokka, to admit that okay, perhaps there had been substance to what Sokka had claimed and maybe the idea of soulmates is real, and not just written about in stories for the lovestruck and the romantic. But then you dazzle him with a large smile in response to something he says, and he doesn’t dwell on the question for long as he comes to the conclusion that honestly, the answer doesn’t really matter to him.

[bollywood-and-phoenix-feather]

manic hours opened yesterday and @just-another-trans-twink and I went on a 24-hour zukka lockdown. this was the result!

essentially: more sokka and azula content is absolutely necessary in this fandom, so here are five times sokka and azula collaborated for the better, and one time it was definitely for the worse

Read on AO3 above!

1. the gaang threatens murder

Sokka hadn’t felt this anxious in nearly six years – since the end of the war. Well, not counting the numerous attempts on his boyfriend’s life; those set him on edge for weeks afterwards. Today was different, though. It wasn’t just he and Zuko and the guards who were unusually tense and hyper-alert. The whole palace felt like it was holding its breath, terse silence stifling in the late summer air.

Sokka checked his timepiece. Thirty minutes until Azula arrived to move into the palace, hopefully (or unfortunately?) for good.

Zuko had been back in contact with his sister for years now. He’d been to visit her in the hospital many times, and she’d even visited the palace occasionally. The fact that she and Zuko could now hold a conversation without setting each other on fire was testament to how she’d changed. Even the doctors said she was better, more stable.

But Sokka still didn’t trust her - couldn’t trust her, after everything she’d done to Katara, Suki, his dad, Zuko… they were his family, and he had to be ready to protect them. Sokka wasn’t the only one that felt that way. Zuko might have started to trust her again, but everyone else was skeptical.

Katara was pissed; Sokka didn’t need Toph’s seismic sense to know that. She, Aang, Toph, Suki, and a few other Kyoshi warriors had arrived a few days ago for extra security. Zuko had stubbornly maintained that it was unnecessary, but he’d finally conceded it was probably a good idea after Sokka had asked them to come anyway.

Zuko, in his earnest quest to be a good brother, wanted to give Azula a proper welcome to the palace, with a small celebratory dinner with their closest friends - which were Zuko’s closest friends, since Azula didn’t really have those anymore. Ty Lee and Mai declined to come, and he was pretty sure everyone else had only agreed to come to provide moral support and physical protection for Zuko. Sokka was just hoping a fight wouldn’t break out.

-

Dinner was, well. Tense.

Katara did little but pick at her food and glare icy daggers at Azula, who pretended not to notice, acting coolly unperturbed by the tension around her. Suki looked relaxed, but Sokka knew better. Her fans sat on either side of her plate, ready for a fight, and she never quite shifted her weight to the back of her seat. Toph might have been the only one actually having a good time, irreverently picking her nails and drinking more sake than a person her size should have been able to.

Aang was desperately trying to ease the mood, chattering on far too cheerfully about new trade routes between the Earth Kingdom and Southern Water Tribe, while Zuko passively nodded along, glancing over at his sister occasionally like he wanted to talk to her.

“... so then, shipments will move primarily between Akahime, Kyoshi Island, and the Southern Water Tribe, like they did when I was a kid! Or was a kid for the first time, I guess! Huh. Anyway! This is gonna be great because it’s a relatively short and easy trade route but the quality of goods -”

“Aang,” Sokka snapped, physically unable to listen any longer. “I love you like a brother, but that does mean that if I have to listen to you recite the trade proposal that I helped write for any longer, I will shave your eyebrows off while you sleep. And Katara -” Sokka whirled on her - “I know you’re upset, but can you please return my water to a liquid state? And everyone else’s, for that matter? Otherwise someone’s gonna have to deal with a hungover Toph tomorrow, and it sure as hell isn’t gonna be me!”

Sokka glared at his sister across the table. Her face was stony, her eyes slightly narrowed. Was this going to end well for Sokka? No. Did that mean he was going to back down? Absolutely not.

“Fine,” Katara muttered through gritted teeth. With a twitch of her fingers, the ice filling everyone’s cups of water melted back to liquid - all except Sokka’s.

“Real fucking mature, Katara - ” he began, and then she flicked her fingers out towards him, melting the water in his cup and sending it right at his face.

“You little shit!” Sokka shrieked in what he was sure was a very, very manly tone. As he rose to confront his sister, Zuko and Suki turned to exchange a fond look, both of them struggling to hide their laughter. Sokka took a breath, feigning sincerity. “You know what? I take it back. You’re ALL a bunch of assholes.” He yanked the tablecloth towards him, sending food and drink flying, before attempting to make a hasty escape.

Chaos erupted. Katara bent the water off herself and onto Zuko, apparently declaring him guilty by association. Toph began shooting grape-oranges at people with alarming precision, while Suki deflected them just as easily. Sokka didn’t get more than a few steps away from the table before his feet were earthbent into the floor.

“You’re not going anywhere, Snoozles!” Toph bellowed, now pelting him with various fruits. He tried to dodge without falling on his face, and was only saved by Zuko grabbing both his arms to keep him balanced. Sokka looked up to see Zuko with a wide grin on his face, and Sokka, hopelessly-in-love bisexual that he was, had barely started his usual inner monologue about how beautiful Zuko’s smile was when Zuko leaned in to smear egg custard on his face.

Just as Sokka opened his mouth to voice his betrayal, another shrill scream split the room: “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Everyone turned to see Azula standing in the corner of the room, irate, steaming the water off her shirt and picking a few stray noodles out of her hair. “I lost to you?! You?”

Tense silence returned, dragging on as everyone tried to anticipate Azula’s next move.

Toph, who had remained unscathed by using the metal plates as shields, and who was somehow still sipping from a full, intact glass of sake, broke the silence. “Yep,” she said, popping the “p”.

Azula stared at Toph for a few moments before sitting down, a look of resignation on her face. Hm. That was new. So was the “Whatever,” Sokka thought he heard her mutter under her breath.

Slowly, everyone returned to the table to pick at what was left of their food and exchange uneasy glances with one another.

Aang cleared his throat. “Did anyone try the chicken? I thought the chicken was lovely.”

-

“I’m going to bed. Are you coming?” Zuko’s hands rested lightly on Sokka’s shoulders, and Sokka sleepily tipped his head back, away from the scroll he was reading, for a kiss. Zuko smirked, a few strands of hair that had escaped his topknot softly framing his face, and obliged.

“I’ll be there soon, okay? I just have a couple more things to take care of,” Sokka murmured in response. As usual, they were up late working in their study. (Technically, it was Zuko’s study, but Sokka almost always worked in here and was steadily covering any available flat surface with his scrolls, reference books, and blueprints. Not that Zuko was complaining.)

Zuko hummed, “Okay, love you,” against Sokka’s lips, before striding out of the room. Sokka waited until his footsteps had faded down the hall before rising, hoping he remembered the way to Azula’s room. He really didn’t want to ask for directions.

A few minutes and wrong turns later, he found Azula. She yanked open her door before he had really finished knocking, snapping an acidic “What?” in his face.

Sokka shouldered his way inside, closing the door behind him and choosing to ignore the fact that she could fry him like a pig-chicken in an instant if she decided it was worth it. He couldn’t think about that right now; he had to do this.

“Listen,” he growled, not bothering to hide the years of hurt and anger behind his voice. “I don’t know if you’re actually better or if this is part of some elaborate scheme of yours, and you know what? Right now, I don’t really care. You’ve hurt too many of the people I love. But you have Zuko convinced, and I guess -” His voice cracked, and he took a breath, trying not to wince visibly. “I guess that’s all that matters right now. He cares about you. A lot. So if you hurt him again, know this: consequences be damned, ending you will be my sole mission. Understand?”

Azula, level and unflinching, arms crossed over her chest, held his gaze for a long moment before huffing and breaking eye contact to inspect her nails. “Bold of you to assume I can be killed, Water Tribe.”

Sokka could only continue to stare, gritting his teeth to prevent his mouth from drifting open in astonishment. The fuck kind of response was that? What did that even mean?

Apparently satisfied with her nails, she turned her face back up to look at Sokka, a new, hard glint in her eyes. “Don’t worry about me. The threat is mutual. Guards!” A royal guard stepped through the door, standing at attention. “Please escort Ambassador Sokka out. I need my beauty sleep.”

And before Sokka could even begin to form a response, the door was closing behind him, and his feet were guiding him to Zuko’s chambers.

2. the gaang goes crafting

Sokka placed two thumbs on his temples, rubbing vigorously before giving up his headache for a lost cause with a sigh. This was the second Four-Nation (well, three-nation plus Aang) diplomatic council meeting he had attended, and as both the Southern Water Tribe representative and a young man who had seen far too much over the past few years, he was deeply frustrated.

When he'd been younger, he'd sat through enough war meetings to know how they usually went: chaos and argument, with Hakoda listening carefully before picking out the bits and pieces that mattered. It was a lot like hunting: waiting and watching for the correct moment to strike. Sokka had learned long ago how to listen, and listen well.

Unfortunately, it seemed like he might be the only one. The Earth Kingdom generals had not taken kindly to being placed in a small room with their Fire Nation counterparts, and every word out of their mouths demonstrated all too clearly that the war, for them, was not yet over. Zuko's position was still precarious - twice-banished and once-crowned - and so he could only do so much. The Earth King's travels had clearly done him some good, but the bar for improvement was unbelievably low. And Sokka did not yet have his dad's ability to command the room.

So this wasn't, at all, like hunting. It might actually be more like the moment after the hunting was over, when the offal was thrown to the polar bear dogs and they went wild, howling and yelling and stomping down the snow.

"I know that face," came a snide voice to his left.

Sokka jumped and drew his sword, mostly on instinct. Azula met his eyes over its point, and then pushed it away, lazily. Sokka let her.

"You're thinking," she said. "If you were my brother, I would say it was a rare feat. But you're not him, are you?"

Like everything Azula said, this question was a test, or a game, or both. Sokka rolled his eyes and chose not to play. "What do you want?"

"I want what you want," said Azula. "And I can help you get it."

Spirits. Even when she was trying to help you, she sounded like she was planning world domination. "Tell me how to get General Wu to shut up for more than five minutes, and then we can talk."

Azula examined her nails. They were much shorter, now, than they had been at the start of the war, so the effect was less like a predator picking its claws, and more girlish; it made her look her age, for once. Sokka wasn't sure if Azula knew, and if not, he certainly wasn't going to tell her.

"General Wu's daughter is studying at the Royal Fire Nation Academy, in her third summer. That means she's currently memorizing the fifty-eight rhetorical principles, and she's probably been practicing them so much that he can recite them by rote. If you bring up the one about the value of being concise - "

"He will finish it, embarrass himself, and then keep quiet for at least the next five minutes so that I can shut down his stupid air-balloon outreach plan." Sokka blinked, surprised at the words coming out of his own mouth. "Did I just agree with you?"

"Of course you did," said Azula, smiling. Her palm was sparking a little, in the way it did before she said something about collective power for utter domination, etc., so Sokka took the opportunity to head her off early.

"Come back to the library with me," he said. "We still have nine generals to go."

Azula looked at him. Sokka looked right back. He had the upper hand here, and he knew it - Azula must have been bored out of her mind after months nothing interesting to do but watch the path of the odd frog-fly. As far as Sokka knew, she wasn't even allowed out of this wing of the palace unattended, let alone permitted to read anything more recent than her great-grandfather’s time.

"Fine," said Azula, finally, feigning boredom. Sokka smiled.

-

Zuko stared. "What is this?"

"What does it look like?" said two voices at once. Sokka and Azula looked at each other in brief, honest shock, before turning back to him as one. Zuko swallowed nervously and resisted the urge to draw his swords.

"Um. It looks like the librarian is gonna be mad at you for defacing the general's royal portraits," said Zuko.

"What did I tell you?" said Azula, scornful. "I knew he wouldn't understand."

"We just have to give him a minute," said Sokka, patiently. Zuko stared. We? he mouthed.

"Oh, well, let him be," said Azula. "Zuzu - " she began, sweetly, and Zuko didn't even flinch this time - "you take all the time you need. If you have questions, we will be in my chambers."

"In your chambers," agreed Zuko, haplessly. "Why?"

"We're finishing the border agreement," Sokka threw over his shoulder. Azula was already halfway down the hall.

"The border agreement. The one that - they've been working on that for months! What do you mean you're finishing it?"

"Oh, you know, teamwork and whatever. It wasn't that hard." Sokka grinned brightly at Zuko, giving him a large thumbs up, and then skipped after Azula.

3. the gaang does science

As much as Zuko was unnerved by the...alliance? working relationship? collaboration? between Sokka and Azula, he had to admit that they were making great progress. They had resolved the border agreement, a messy affair Zuko was sure would take the rest of the year and possibly also Aang’s moderation to conclude, in less than a week.

That had been months ago, and since, they had gotten everything from education reform bills to reparations proposals approved by the council and various world leaders. Sometimes Zuko wondered who was really running the country right now. He didn’t mind, though. It was fun to watch the dusty old men on his advisory council squirm in meetings when Azula sat in the corner, staring them down and taking meticulous notes.

Plus, he got more sleep this way.

Zuko rose and stretched after signing off the Power Duo’s latest proposal for terracing the mountainside of a nearby village to grow rice. Dismissing his constant internal struggle over whether their partnership should make him thankful or fearful for his safety, he went to find Sokka. He got more time to eat in places that weren’t his study now, too. He’d thought a surprise picnic by the turtleduck pond might be nice; it’d been so long since he and Sokka had been able to go on an actual date.

He’d already asked for a blanket and a basket of food to be sent over to the pond, so all he had to do was find Sokka, who…wasn’t in his office. Zuko frowned; he must be outside.

Zuko headed towards the courtyard behind the building instead, lost in thought about their last date - Sokka had talked him into seeing The Ember Island Players’ most recent atrocity, which had lived up to Zuko’s rock-bottom expectations, but they’d gone swimming afterwards, and then -

Zuko’s train of thought (and the accompanying flush in his cheeks) was cut off abruptly by the truly alarming sight greeting him in the courtyard.

Azula was elaborately strapped and tied to Sokka’s back like a baby hog monkey, her arms falling in front of his shoulders to tighten a couple last straps. Both were wearing large, ridiculous, leather-framed goggles that fit snugly around their eyes. As Azula worked with the straps, Sokka unfurled two triangular pieces of cloth that bore suspicious similarity to the wings of Aang’s glider. The bottom part of the cloth appeared to be attached to his boots, the top edge to his arms.

Before Zuko could even say, What the fuck, Sokka? , Sokka grinned over his shoulder at Azula and said with far too much vigor, “Ready?”

Azula, clearly still focused on the straps, snapped, “I’m always ready. Are you sure this will work?”

“No, but there’s only one way to find out! That’s science! Sokka-POW!” And with that, Azula lit a massive flame under her feet, sending them both flying above the roof of the palace. Immediately, despite Sokka’s best efforts with the cloth flaps, they careened wildly out of control before plummeting directly into the roof of the residential hall on the opposite side of the courtyard.

As he sprinted towards them, calling for his guards to send a healer, he could think only two thoughts: (1) spirits, please let them be okay, and (2) if they’re not dead, I’m going to kill them.

Crashing through the door of the building, he found Sokka and Azula on the (very charred) floor, a few small fires surrounding them, which he snuffed out with a wave of his hand. The two were still mostly strapped together, Sokka rolling around on the floor in an attempt to dislodge Azula, while she tried to undo the straps at Sokka’s front with mixed success.

Zuko unsheathed one of the daggers at his waist and willed himself not to breathe fire as he launched into a tirade that bald-ponytail, sixteen-year-old Zuko would have been proud of. “What the fuck were you two thinking! Are you stupid? Don’t answer that, smartass,” He glared pointedly at Sokka while he sliced his way through their bindings. “What would I have done if something happened to either of you? There’d be a fucking diplomatic crisis, I’d have a dead ambassador and a dead sister and a very, very angry Southern Water Tribe -”

“In my defense,” Sokka muttered hoarsely, head lolling back onto the floor, “my dad would definitely believe you if you told him that I did something like this.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” He sheathed his dagger and whirled on his sister. “Azula,” he pleaded, “why?”

She shrugged, and offered only, “Science.” A smirk spread over her face, splitting streaks of soot. “Maybe if you’d let me read a book published in the last two hundred years, then I’d know it was a bad idea.”

Zuko’s imminent death threat was cut off by Sokka’s chuckling from the floor. “Nice one, ‘Zula. Up top.” He raised his hand weakly for Azula to give him a high five.

I can’t believe I’m in love with this concussed idiot, Zuko thought (not for the first time). Healers rushed in to save the two from Zuko’s remaining wrath. “I’m telling Katara,” Zuko muttered.

“Nooooo, babyyy, please don’t tell Katara, she’ll -”

“I’m telling Katara, mostly because you deserve to be yelled at by someone else, but also because she and Aang get here in a week, and I don’t know how else I’m going to explain why it looks like a comet crashed into the palace. And, you know what? Royal decree - you two are not allowed to hang out unsupervised any more.”

Azula glared at him - less her old I’m-going-to-mount-your-head-on-the-palace-gates glare and more the usual your-existence-tires-me glare that he saw pass between Sokka and Katara so often. That was better, though, and Zuko decided that he would take it. Sokka just pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and batting his eyelashes. Zuko found this look cuter than he should, and Sokka knew it.

Zuko steeled his resolve. “I’m telling Katara, and I’m not going to stop giving you shit about this until we’re approximately eighty, okay? But you can read whatever you want in the library. Happy?”

The Power Duo cheered, and Zuko couldn’t hold back a soft smile.

4. the gaang hoards the brain cells

Maybe it was a lifetime of being the oldest sibling and also the responsible sibling, or maybe it was just because he had grown up around Katara, but despite all appearances to the contrary (see: the as-yet unrepaired roof of the residential hall) Sokka was actually a great influence on Azula.

Part of this was definitely due to the fact that Azula, like, listened to him. Sokka wasn't sure that he'd ever been around someone who did what he said without question. Zuko supported him, but in a boyfriend kind of way; sometimes Sokka would jump in with a plan fully formed, and then Zuko would make him explain it back and work out the kinks; other times - and especially in fights - by the time Sokka had come up with a workable plan, Zuko was already in the middle of it, flaming-feet first, and Sokka had to improvise (brilliantly, but desperately) to keep up.

Katara, conversely, never actually listened to him. She just did what she wanted. If what she wanted happened to line up with Sokka's exact plan, she would never admit it. It was her right, really, as a younger sibling; Sokka knew this, and he loved her.

But Azula understood his plans almost before he said them out loud -  most of the time because she was thinking the same thing. And somehow, out of everyone - she respected him the most; sometimes Sokka felt like she was trying to earn his approval, like she knew that if Sokka trusted her, so would Katara, and even Zuko. If she was a sail, Sokka was just a rudder, steering her: they didn't have to be pointing the same direction, but their boat would never crash.

Sokka frowned, trying to imagine himself as a boat. Would his wolf-tail be the rudder? Or would his whole body just be triangle-shaped?

It didn't matter. (It did. He would figure it out later.) Right now, he needed to talk to her about some of the villages at the southern border; heavy rains had induced mudslides, wiping out shrines and causing the spirits to run amok. Sokka thought that maybe, this village might be a kind of Heroism Starter Pack for Azula, that they could - what was that noise?

Sokka looked down. The castle floor should not be splashing his feet, and yet it was; he was standing in a giant puddle. He looked up, suddenly focused; there was a trail of muddy water making its way down the hall.

Sokka followed it. The water grew muddier and deeper as he went, and Sokka despaired for whoever would have to clean it up. Finally, he caught up to the source: his very bedraggled sister, and his equally soaked boyfriend, trudging toward the baths.

"Um," said Sokka. "What's happening, here?"

Katara turned around. "Well, someone had to do it." Her hands were on her hips, her nose upturned.

"Yeah," agreed Zuko, smiling. "We took care of it. It was fun."

Don't get him wrong - Sokka was all for Zuko's little smiles, and Zuko having fun, but - "Take care of what? What did you do?"

Zuko and Katara scowled, eerily identical. "What we did," Katara said, edging from 'self-satisfied' to 'fiercely righteous', "was settle the spirits and save the villagers, since obviously the Earth kingdom civil forces don't have the bending knowledge to do it yet!"

"Yeah, like I said," said Zuko. He was frowning like a kicked puppy, which was unfair to Sokka specifically. "We took care of it."

"Oh," said Sokka, relaxing. "That's great! So you guys talked to the villagers?"

"Um," said Zuko. "About what?"

"...the mudslides. And, like, preventing them? The tiered rock formations?"

Zuko stared at him, a little furrow forming between his eyebrows which meant he was totally lost. Katara avoided his gaze, shifting from foot to foot.

"Katara," said Sokka, using his absolute best big brother voice, "remember my designs? Which I told you about last week?"

"Look, Sokka," said Katara, gently. Sokka frowned and crossed his arms; Katara had not been able to fool him with that voice since she was about ten years old, and she knew it. "We solved the problem. The spirits are settled and everything is okay now! Your designs were great, but we just...didn't need them?"

Sokka stared her down; Katara stared back.

"If you're going to -" "Well, what exactly was your - " they began, at the same time, and Zuko sighed; before they could really get into it, a rush of heat interrupted them, shrinking the puddles on the floor to sad little piles of dirt, and blowing Katara's hair dramatically into her face. Sokka stifled a laugh.

"I think the real question is, what did you actually do?" Azula asked, appearing from the shadows. She was holding Zuko's Blue Spirit mask, which was dripping with mud.

"Dramatic entrance high-five," said Sokka, because she deserved it, and because she was going to be on his side. Azula obliged, and then raised an eyebrow to Katara and Zuko, who reminded Sokka a bit of blow-dried cat-herons.

"We're not dumb," said Katara, smoothing down her robes. "We entered the village in disguise, and then cleared the mud and repaired the shrines. The spirits calmed down pretty quickly after everything was fixed."

"Right," said Azula. "Until the next time it rains. You know, what might have worked better would be to educate the villagers about flood barriers, or perhaps even offer them assistance in moving their shrines."

She sounded about as scornful and sarcastic as usual, but Sokka knew better; her ideas were legitimate and compassionate. He was so proud. Their murder baby was all grown up and trying to save people.

Katara did not pick up on the fact that Sokka was swelling like a pig-chicken about to crow. "You don't know that - "

"What we do know," interrupted Sokka bossily, "is that at some point it's going to rain again, and then the villagers are going to sit and pray to the Blue Spirit and the Painted Lady instead of building these custom-designed flood barriers on the mountain."

Zuko shuffled his feet. "I didn't really think about that."

"Zuko, I love you," said Sokka. "but in my humble opinion? No, you did not."

"I don't agree," began Katara, but Azula cut her off. "I do. I feel the same way Sokka does."

Zuko stared at her, like he was desperately trying not to ask: about what? But Azula was biting her lip and kind of looked like she was about to break into hives, so Sokka let her have this one.

"Here," he said, thrusting his plans into Katara's arms. "I support the fact that you guys got to do your dramatic spirit thing, but now please go back and give them my plans."

Azula brought two fingers up to her nose, showily. "And do take a bath, please. I doubt the villagers will appreciate your particular stench.”

5. the gaang plans a proposal

“...and that’s why you can’t trust General Yin, but you can use him to gain influence with Ambassador Xi and her supporters,” Azula finished, emphatically pointing at a few points on the elaborate web of papers tacked up on the wall of Sokka’s quarters. It’s not like he’s slept in there in years, anyway.

Zuko’s bed is much nicer. Because it has Zuko in it.

Sokka jotted down a few notes from Azula’s monologue, absentmindedly passing her their (stolen) bowl of noodles. He dropped his pen and rubbed his eyes. On to more important work. “So,” he said. “I’m proposing to Zuko. Wanna help?”

Azula met his eyes and stared him down. Sokka waggled his eyebrows, smile as big as his face.

“You’re serious,” she realized.

“Of course I am! It’s the biggest tactical challenge of the century, because Zuko is the most suspicious guy we know and he absolutely cannot suspect.” Sokka tossed her a scroll. It was long - and detailed. “What do you say?”

“With my help, this will be the best proposal ever made. Together, you and I are unbeatable!”

“Cool beans,” said Sokka. “Plan over breakfast tomorrow?”

-

Zuko stared at Katara. Katara stared at Zuko.

“Okay, so. I love your brother.”

“Obviously.”

Zuko shifted in his seat; his tea was untouched. “No, I mean. I really love your brother. He’s - the love of my life.”

Katara narrowly resisted the urge to say: if you love him so much, why don’t you marry him? Then, abruptly, she got the point.

“Are you asking for my blessing?”

“No,” said Zuko, and in response to Katara’s murderous glare, backtracked immediately. “Yes? I mean. I already asked Chief Hakoda.”

“Oh,” said Katara. Then, more gently, and possibly because she was worried Zuko might pass out, she asked, “What do you need my help with?”

“Planning,” he said, letting out a breath. “I want to propose and do it right, but Sokka’s the plan guy. Everyone knows that. And I thought, that since you know him, you could - “ He cuts himself off. “Forget it. It was a dumb idea anyway.”

Katara wills him to meet her eyes, because she is completely certain that they are actually sparkling. “Zuko,” she says, hand to her heart. “I would be honored.”

-

“Hello, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe. Your boyfriend, Zuko, here. Well, you probably know me because of...all the time we spend together. You know, dates and other things. Like meetings - “

Sokka’s hand was suddenly on his forehead. “Zuko, babe, are you feeling all right?”

In short succession, Sokka examined his eyes, ears, and tongue, and took his pulse (ripping his robes open to do so). Zuko flushed, which just seemed to make Sokka more concerned.

“Sokka!” he growled. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. And also normal. Fine and normal.”

“Of course!” said Sokka, laughing a little maniacally. Maybe he was spending too much time with Azula. “Fine and normal. Why wouldn’t it be?” He laughed again.

“Uh, guys,” said Toph. “Are you two okay?”

Zuko blinked, and came back to himself. In front of him were ten to fifteen very important diplomats, and all of his best friends. He was in public, at dinner. And his robes were ripped wide open.

Sokka was suddenly jerked back in his chair, presumably by Azula. His eye twitched. “Nothing to see here, Toph! Look! I’ve finished my dinner!”

Toph frowned. “You haven’t, and I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Fine, I’m not hungry!” Sokka declared. “What are you, a cop?” His eye twitched again. “I have to go now, for unrelated reasons. To, uh, review some paperwork. Bye!”

He was gone so fast Zuko was pretty sure he left a little dust cloud behind. Toph looked nonplussed. “But,” she said, “I am a cop.”

Katara reached over to help Zuko straighten his robes, giving him a sympathetic look. He felt Suki’s glare from across the room. When he and Sokka had started dating she’d threatened to - quote - remove his entire spine from his body by way of his mouth if Zuko broke Sokka’s heart, and with the way Zuko was acting right now…he couldn’t blame her for being suspicious.

Katara followed his gaze. “Hey, Zuko,” she said, brightly. “Didn’t you have that - thing?”

“What thing?” said Zuko. Oh, god. He had forgotten something, hadn’t he? He -

Katara pinched his arm, hard. “You know. That thing. That you had to do in your chambers?”

He couldn’t lose face any more than he already had. “Of course, Katara,” he said. “I will go now to do that thing.” Zuko stood up and retreated with dignity, praying that whatever it was, he would remember when he got there.

The table was quiet in their absence. The diplomats - who seemed to be inured to this sort of thing - soon began chatting peacefully, or placating Aang, who had helpfully pulled out his usual marble trick.

Azula watched Katara steadily over the table; Katara refused to meet her eye. “What,” Katara said, finally. “Is there something on my face?”

Azula leaned forward, bangs shadowing her face. “Tell me everything you know.”

“About what?”

“You know what!” Azula snapped. “Is my brother planning to propose?”

Katara shifted in her seat. “Unlike you,” she began, haughtily, “I know when to retreat. So, fine. I will tell you some of the things I know.”

“Where,” Azula demanded, “and when?”

“Princess, Sparky,” Toph said, irritated. “Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter whether you know, because those two dumbasses haven’t figured it out!”

This brought the table to a halt. Even Aang stopped his marble, because it was true: Sokka and Zuko might together be the force that had liberated Boiling Rock, but when it came to each other? That famed intellect went sailing out the window.

Katara deflated, laying her head on the table. “We’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we?”

Azula reached out and, wonder of wonders, patted her arm with something close to sympathy. “Might as well get started.”

-

Zuko paced his chambers restlessly. What had he forgotten? Oh god, was it something related to the proposal? His hands flew to a fold in his robes, finding the necklace he’d engraved for Sokka - a smooth, deep blue leather band with a perfect moonstone pendant, which Zuko had engraved with a dragon and a wolf, nested together in a loving embrace. He sighed in relief.

Spirits, Zuko was so in love with him. He was desperately trying not to fuck up this proposal, but it seemed he was fucking up the not fucking up and -

He needed to take a walk and clear his head. He could almost hear his uncle sagely murmuring, “You rarely find answers in a crowded mind, Nephew.” Or something like that. Zuko made his way from his and Sokka’s room to the turtleduck pond. It seemed he was usually able to find answers there; it reminded him of his mom.

Approaching the pond, he saw a familiar figure sitting at the base of the cherry tree, already starting to bloom. Sokka seemed lost in thought, staring down at something in his lap, but jerked to attention once he heard the rustle of Zuko’s boots against the grass.

Zuko sat down next to his partner, nerves momentarily overshadowed by the sweet, peaceful movement of wind through the branches of the cherry tree and his abundant love for the man sitting next to him. Zuko reached up to brush a stray blossom from Sokka’s wolf tail, cradled his face to run a thumb over his cheekbone. “Hi,” Zuko murmured, gently pressing their foreheads together. “I’m sorry.”

Sokka pulled back slightly, face contorted in confusion. “For what? I’m the one that should be apologizing. Zuko, I -”

“Apologize? For what? I’m the one who acted like an absolute ass. Ugh, spirits, ‘Zuko here,’ what was I thinking,” He dropped Sokka’s gaze, his hands drifting towards his lap, getting painfully frustrated once again. “And then I just - I couldn’t - fuck!” Zuko was interrupted by Sokka’s hands grabbing his hips and pulling him onto Sokka’s lap, and by Sokka’s lips meeting his.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Sokka murmured in between tender kisses, and his lips were soft and warm and everything Zuko wanted right now and for the rest of his life, and if he had to keep this a secret anymore, Zuko thought he might literally die.

Zuko pulled away, just enough to look Sokka in the eyes. “Marry me,” Zuko breathed. “Please, Sokka. I love you so much, and I don’t know where I’d be without you, and I - I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Zuko only realized he was crying when Sokka ran his thumb under Zuko’s good eye, brushing away tears while Zuko fumbled in his robe for the necklace.

At the sight of the necklace, tears began to spill from Sokka’s eyes, too. “Zuko… it’s beautiful, I - yes. Zuko, yes.” Zuko released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and they were kissing again, and then all of a sudden, they weren’t, because Sokka, the absolute fucker, was laughing uncontrollably.

Zuko immediately began imagining worst-case scenarios. What if he didn’t mean it? What if the past five years with him have been some extremely elaborate prank, and -

Sokka, noticing his now-fiance’s abrupt silence, attempted to quash his laughter and held Zuko’s hands - still clutching the engagement necklace - in his own. “Zuko, love, hey, look at me. I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because, well…” He pulled a small pouch from one of his pockets and opened it to reveal two delicately engraved golden bracelets, traditional Fire Nation engagement gifts. One held the image of a dragon; the other, a beautiful motif of waves crashing against a shore. They glinted warmly in the moonlight alongside the pendant of the engagement necklace. “I’m laughing because I had the same idea, I guess. I love you so much, and I want a life with you. Will you help me put this on?”

Zuko first let Sokka slide the bracelets over each of his wrists, then lifted his hands, shaking slightly, but steadied by Sokka’s warm touch, to clasp the necklace behind his neck. The tension bled out of Zuko, and he melted into Sokka, pushing him to the ground and kissing him senseless, from his mouth to the stone now resting at the base of his throat.

Sokka started laughing again, and Zuko joined in, overjoyed at the beauty and the absurdity of it all, at how lucky and in love he was.

6. the gaang commits arson

Librarian Hirai had been working at the royal palace since before Firelord Zuko had been crowned, going on forty years, now. His vast experience hadn’t prepared him for everything, certainly; the time with five Kyoshi warriors and a badgermole had been unprecedented, and he wasn’t sure he was going to lift the ban on platypus-bears in the palace anytime soon.

Hirai’s experience, however, had prepared him for this: the Fire Nation’s most formidable duo, Ambassador Sokka and Her Highness Azula, together, with access to children.

Hirai did not know the children’s names. He classified them solely on their capacity to irritate him; the only name he knew was that of the youngest, Tenzin, because the sweet child had never caused him any trouble. Naturally, Tenzin was to be found nowhere near this unholy gathering: instead, Hirai saw the bouncy one (liable to cause things to fall over), the Princess (insolent, with her fathers shamelessly wrapped around her finger), and the Teenager (arms always crossed, eyes forever rolling).

Her Highness Azula’s hand was alight with blue fire. To the courtyard and everyone within earshot, she was saying: “If you want to burn it, just go ahead. Everything important, your uncle or I have memorized.”

Hirai stopped listening, in an effort to avoid a coronary and possibly death. There was a protocol. Everything would be fine.

He moved methodically, double checking fire suppressant stations and tightening the seal on the vacuum chambers holding the oldest scrolls. He closed every entrance except the main one, and he stood guard outside of it.

This was not a long process; their royal Highnesses were still gathered like a storm cloud in the courtyard. A particularly loud storm cloud. Hirai had weathered storms before.

The ground rumbled, slightly. Republic City Chief of Police, Toph Beifong, emerged from it, and dusted herself off.

“You know,” she said conversationally, “arson is illegal. I can have you arrested for that.”

Hirai relaxed, infinitesimally. Beifong was known to be tough and fair; perhaps, after so many years, the spirits had thought to grant him an ally.

“So,” said Toph, rubbing her palms together. “Today, I’m going to teach you how not to get caught.”

It was interesting: Hirai had never before actually lent weight to the expression that one’s life could flash before their eyes. In that moment, swaying slightly where he stood, he was forced to concede that there might have been some truth to it after all.

He turned around, very calmly, and made his way to his desk. He groped vaguely for some parchment and ink, and in precise lettering dictated his resignation from the palace staff, effective immediately.

Somewhere out in the courtyard, their Highnesses’ Uncle Sokka and Aunt Azula high-fived.

[jyndor]

Cop-thing-anon here:

(I don't believe in the blue lives matter thing by the way)

I do get where you're coming from. I guess I see the thing about cops and cop AUs differently because the police is different and not as fucked up in my country. The thing about the fanart is just..I think you're reading too much into it. I don't think the artist really focused on the skin colour of Sokka, I mean, it's a kids show. Skin colour was never really mentioned or important in atla. But Sokka's personality is most likely why the artist was inspired to draw him as a "gangster", with azula (the villain) being a cop. It is kind of insensitive to draw that with the events going on, but I think that a lot of people in the fandom take some things way too seriously, for a kids show back in the late 2000's anyway.

hey anon, I say this with love and I am being sincere. I'm gonna need you to rewatch the show if you think skin color didn't matter. and it doesn't matter where you live because there is no part of the world, no culture, that isn't shaped by colonialism. I don't mean to be condescending so please bear with me, I truly believe in educating people as a part of allyship and anti-racism.

Anon, please know that I am not angry or anything but sincere in what I’m about to say. Just bear with me because I know that unlearning shit is difficult and can be painful, but we’ve gotta do it. I do appreciate you wanting to have this conversation at all. And I’m not writing this just for your benefit - this is for anyone who wants to learn about why A) race is a part of ATLA’s narrative and B) why critical analysis of mass media is actually important. So I’m not assuming you don’t know basic things about this stuff, I’m not trying to be condescending.

Now we’re gonna fix colonialism and imperialism XD wee okay here we go.

No matter where you live in the world you have some awareness of skin color. Your understanding of race might be different than mine, in fact it probably is. Race as we know it today is a social construct that stems from many things (and I wrote several hundred words on it but it was too much and too far removed from the point I’m trying to make so I edited all of that out. Yay.)

You don’t usually see imperialism, one of the major themes in Avatar, without colonialism. Imperialism is slightly different than colonialism - you can think of it like the ideology behind the practice of colonialism.* Imperialism can be used to describe expansionism in general - which has been going on since the bronze age lol humans, I stg - but usually when people today refer to colonialism and imperialism they’re talking about imperialism starting in the 17th century.

Now imperialism is not just a European concept. ATLA is set in a world that we know is supposed to be like a combination of different Asian cultures (with some influences from the Americas). And the Fire Nation is clearly influenced by Imperial Japan. So briefly:

Japan had a policy of sakoku (chained or closed country) which kept it mostly isolated (out of concerns that Japan would fall victim to something like the Opium Wars in China, among other things) from the rest of the world for a couple hundred years until the 1850s when a US Naval commander named Matthew Perry (I am not kidding) forced Japan to open its borders for trade to the United States by gunboat diplomacy, an oxymoron if I have ever seen one before.

Japan ended up signing unequal treaties with a lot of Western countries, and this bred xenophobia and hostility in Japan. The Emperor who signed these treaties died of smallpox, and after some internal conflict his son decided try to renegotiate these treaties. The US and European countries were not interested in renegotiating dick but the mission wasn’t unsuccessful because the diplomats A) exchanged some islands with Russia and B) were inspired by western economic policy and society to “modernize” Japan. Japan began industrialization and it converted to a market economy with the help of the US and other western powers.

So over many years, Japan went to war with China, Korea, Russia (and took back some of the land they exchanged with them), and others. From wikipedia:

Using its superior technological advances in naval aviation and its modern doctrines of amphibious and naval warfare, Japan achieved one of the fastest maritime expansions in history. By 1942 Japan had conquered much of East Asia and the Pacific, including the east of China, Hong Kong, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Burma (Myanmar), Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia, part of New Guinea and many islands of the Pacific Ocean.

But ATLA is not a Japanese story. The Fire Nation is not Imperial Japan. The Earth Kingdom is not China or Korea, the Air Nomads are not Tibetan monks, and the Water Tribes are not Inuit. The creators definitely drew heavy inspiration from all of these places and others, but ATLA is a story written by American people in the United States for American kids. It is an American story.

And it was created at a time when the United States was victimizing people in Afghanistan and Iraq (and other places) in many similar ways to how the Fire Nation victimized people. In fact, the show starts in the Southern Water Tribe, which represent Inuit people, indigenous people in Alaska, Canada and Greenland, I think it’s safe to assume that the genocide being referenced here is not one by Japan but rather by European colonizers and later by the United States and Canada.

Imperialism is in the show’s DNA. 

And so is racism. In our world they are inherently connected. And visual cues from the show along with things the characters say suggest that we are meant to make the comparison between our world and the ATLA world. Every story has a purpose - it doesn’t have to be political, but for Avatar it is political, it is anti-imperialist.

In this article about how ATLA resonates with us in 2020, Aina Khan of the Guardian interviews Professor Ali A Olomi about using ATLA to teach at Penn State. “One of the things we see with the Fire Nation is the ideological justification for what they’re doing. We are a glorious civilization. We have abundance, we have wealth, we have technological advancement; we need to share it with the rest of the world. That’s almost word for word European colonisation.”

Zuko and Azula both call Katara a peasant. In fact, Azula calls her a dirty peasant. This is one step away from calling her a s*vage I mean come on. While peasant might just be purely classist (lol no) because Zuko and Azula are royalty, um it’s clearly racialized classism because of real life context. There is real history with colonizers calling indigenous people this, dismissing their cultures as primitive and barbaric.

Add into the mix colorism, which is bias against darker skin and privileges fair skin (which is a byproduct of imperialism) and you have clear race shit happening in Avatar.

When I saw that fanart, I was immediately reminded of black lives matter of course, but mainly of the fact that indigenous peoples are also at high risk of being victimized by police. Not just in the US. And how gross it is to depict a colonizer like Azula as an angry cop (representing the state) turning her gun on an indigenous man who is dressed like a gangster which... yike.

Mass media influence everything we do. The messaging we get, our politics, what we want to eat for dinner because we’re hungry and have been writing this stupid essay for three hours LOL. It’s important that people think critically about what they consume. Otherwise you get the goddamn United States with half of our population stanning a racist fraud. You want to know why US Americans are so ignorant? Because our education system sucks, because we don’t have any real media literacy. But apparently the rest of the world has some fucking nerve making fun of Americans** because all of us suck at it. No one is thinking critically about media.

A really terrifying thing about people is our ability to take whatever message we want from stories, even if it is in direct contradiction with the narrative of a story. There’s a movie called American History X which is explicitly anti-fascist, but because it’s a drama and Ed Norton is cut and looks badass and uncucked or whatever LOL, the iconography in that movie is fairly popular with neo-nazis. Yike. This is not at that level of course, this is some random niche fanart for a rare pairing.

For better or for worse, US media and entertainment gets a lot of attention and people around the world eat it up. Maybe you don’t need to know every little detail about US American shit, and I know we tend to dominate media, but black lives matter is not just a 2020 thing. People have known about it for years, since it started. If that fanart was created in 2019, which I think it was, the BLM movement had already existed for six years. If you’re watching an American show like Avatar and you’re making fanart on social media but you don’t know what BLM is in 2019... well educate yourself lmao.

Considering that Black fans have expressed frustration and discomfort in fandoms over and over again, and I am sure indigenous fans have too because fandoms are racist sometimes, it’s important that white fans help make fandoms better. And I am a white fan, and I consider myself an anti-racist. Which means I have to be active about racism when I see it.

btw I found this great essay by @cobra-diamond which you should read if you want more details about the similarities between Japan and the Fire Nation.

* that is very reductive but it’s fine lol

** I am kidding, unless you are english feel free to make fun of americans for non-gun, non-trauma related things pls

[sokkathebluewolf]

Has Azula really never killed anyone? That doesn't seem like her but it does seem like it could be an interesting plot point that she's been hiding the fact that she has from sokka out of shame or something

*sigh* 

Well, this isn’t the kind of ask I usually get on this blog, but I’ll answer as earnestly as possible. Preemptively sorry if I come off strong, but I’m going to assume you really haven’t read the whole story and thus some of its underlying themes and established backstories (or absence thereof) have gone unnoticed for you because of that.

Canon Azula, at fourteen years of age, goes out to track down her brother and uncle in war times. Canon Azula is not morally appalled by murder, not by any means, but unless you count Aang, who (because of LOK and because he literally came back to life) hardly really counts despite her very obvious intent to kill him, Azula’s canon kill count would be ONE (1), and it’s still someone who didn’t stay dead. Aang has canonically and consciously killed more people than Azula (and I don’t mean Koizilla, I mean Sozin’s Comet, the falling airship that crashed pretty hard against solid ground when he knocked it down. Were there survivors? Likely. But genuinely thinking no one would have died after that sounds extremely naïve). So, please, keep that in mind before thinking “that doesn’t seem much like *insert character name here*”. 

Gladiator Azula, at fourteen years of age, goes NOWHERE. Gladiator Azula didn’t have to track down Zuko and Iroh because they were a failure and a traitor, respectively. Why? Because Aang didn’t come back. There was no Avatar on the loose that Zuko and Iroh would fail to capture heaps of times. Therefore, if Azula doesn’t have to go find Zuko and Iroh by Ozai’s orders, Azula doesn’t fight the Avatar and friends, Azula doesn’t end up anywhere near Ba Sing Se. Someone else (General Tiang) takes Ba Sing Se in Gladiator with the power of the comet, because in this setting the Fire Nation wouldn’t have the opportunity to take it any sooner. I am pretty sure the comet-enhanced take of Ba Sing Se is literally stated in the first chapter: there are no aircrafts yet because Sokka hasn’t helped the Mechanist complete them, ergo, Ozai can’t rain fire from the sky even if he dreams of that. There are also no dragons, so the firebenders couldn’t use this grand opportunity for something gradiose like burning the entire world to the ground and had to settle for an old-school military strategic victory.

Gladiator Azula is established, then, to not have taken action in her younger years because Ozai had no need to send her anywhere. Gladiator Azula has seen no military glory when the story begins, she has taken no missions before the first one she has in the South Pole, a mission where her role was meant to be diplomatic, first and foremost. The first enemy she meets whom she just might have a pretty good reason to kill? It’s Sokka. And we all know how that turned out. Had she been a trigger-happy murderer like you might think she is (considering zero murders “doesn’t seem like Azula” to you), that’s where our story would have ended. Funny.

Therefore, had Gladiator Azula killed someone before Sokka was part of her life, it’d have to be a Fire Nation someone. I repeat, she had never dealt with anyone who could be considered an enemy of her nation before the South Pole. If she didn’t kill Huang Li for disrespecting her, if she didn’t kill Admiral Chan for trying to screw her over and instead bided her time until she could one-up him for good… do you SERIOUSLY think the way I’m characterizing Azula leaves room for her to have committed, what, recreational murder of her own people because she was frustrated she didn’t get any chances to join the war?

Throughout the story, Gladiator Azula has showed very little compunction about threatening people with death, or even talking about killing others when she’s in a really bad mood. This is done as a very deliberate and intentional contrast with Sokka, who has killed countless people and wishes he’d never have to do it again. Why’s that?

Because often in fantasy fiction, in many stories I’ve found (including ATLA), killing isn’t treated with the gravity and seriousness it deserves. Sokka has canonically killed plenty of people too, and yet it never seems to bother him in the least there. I’ve read at least two other fics that give him PTSD for the deaths he dealt through the war, and to me, that’s a thousand times more sensible than him being utterly unconcerned with what he’s doing or who he’s killing. I like my characters more complex than Liam Neeson in Taken. Want senseless killing with zero consequences? That’d be a good movie to go to for that.

Gladiator Sokka killed his first man in the settlement, chapter 2, remember? He hasn’t forgotten it even now, despite at the time he tried to ignore it and move on to his actual mission. What was the purpose of that? If it needs spelling out, the purpose of it was to outright contrast the Canon Sokka mentality of “it’s what needs to be done”, a mentality he shares in this story at first, with the eventual Gladiator Sokka mentality of “taking people’s lives destroyed me on the inside because I don’t think I deserved to live when they died”. All this to make death a lot less leisurely, recreational, inconsequential than it is in countless works of fiction. Do you shrug off real life deaths as though they were inconsequential too? Has any relative of yours died and you’ve thought it’s irrelevant? Or, like me, are you living in a tyrannical country where fighting back against said tyranny has resulted in meaningless deaths of young people who were fighting for a future that was stolen from them? People whose deaths have just become a mere number on a list of atrocities a tyrannical regime refuses to answer for? Yeah, that sounds hella dramatic, I know. But I like to take my storytelling and the themes I deal with in it seriously, and death is one theme I categorically refuse to take lightly. ATLA did try to take death seriously too, but they certainly failed more often than not for me, especially when their heroes cared about death only if the plot required it.

That Azula hasn’t killed anyone so far doesn’t mean she won’t ever do it in the story’s future. But it does mean that, by the time she does, it will affect her, as it rightfully should affect any human being who isn’t completely amoral and, if you’ve read any further than the first three arcs, I’d like to think you already know Azula has a conscience she tends to ignore but that is still there. Spoiler alert, said conscience becomes louder and harder for her to ignore until eventually she starts abiding by it.

In conclusion, no, Azula hasn’t killed anyone. No, I don’t find that implausible for a character who hadn’t gone to war the way her canon counterpart did, especially considering said canon counterpart has only ever killed ONE (1) person if you do count him, despite being involved directly in the war to the point of even conquering a city herself. No, there isn’t some secret death Azula is responsible for that she hasn’t told Sokka about, because if there were, she would already have shown signs of keeping that kind of secret (yes, Sokka kept secrets that weren’t strongly hinted at, but they WERE hinted at: Rhone for instance was teased all the way in chapter 41 despite he only showed up in chapter 113, and the reasons for his reluctance to go home were implied since chapter 3, even if he didn’t outright tell Azula about them until chapter 106).

I’m sure there are countless other stories that don’t deal with death the way I do. But this is how Gladiator does it, and this is how Gladiator will continue to do it, because it’s being written by someone who doesn’t think carnage should be dealt with as lightly as it often is. Yes, there’s death in this story, a fair share of it, and that share will only increase in later chapters (I literally just finished an entire arc about serial murders through the Capital?), but I won’t ever take it lightly and I sure won’t turn my characters into secretive murderers for drama’s sake, especially if said suggestion contradicts virtually every bit of characterization I’ve worked on and developed for Azula throughout six years of studying her character and writing it in this story.

(Also… hiding it out of shame? If you think it’s unlike Azula to not have killed anyone, do you really think it’s “like her” to be ashamed if she really had done it? Do you really think she wouldn’t have been proud to own up to her kill count before her conscience kicks in for good later on in the story? What reason would Azula possibly have to be ashamed of killing someone in the earlier stages of Gladiator?)

[words4bloghere]

Blood and Seawater version 1

Okay I promised my readers on AO3 that I would post the original version of B&S on Tumblr. So, please feel free to ignore this.

I hate these chapters. SO MUCH.

Three full chapters here so, SUPER LONG. I do not recommend reblogging. I’m not even tagging it properly because holy hell.

Chapter 1: The North Pole

It was dark.

More than the cold, Katara found herself struggling with how dark it was. When they pulled into the main courtyard, her face was slightly numb from the cold and she found it difficult to adjust with the firelight.

A figure descended the stairs toward them and, when Katara freed herself from the sled, discovered her father had come to greet them.

“Dad!” Katara said as she squeezed her father tightly.

“Hey, not that I’m complaining, but why are you the only one out here?” Sokka asked, walking up to them. Hakoda patted the back of Katara’s head and they parted.

“I asked Arnook if I could have some time with my family before they all descended on you like wolves.” He replied and hugged his son. He then stepped back and regarded them. “So, what have you been up to?”

Katara and Sokka exchanged a look, blinking.

“Kind of a lot dad.” Sokka said, nodding absently.

“Wonderful. Then you might be too distracted to notice that I’ve started courting again.” Hakoda replied.

The siblings balked and started squabbling at Hakoda, to which the older man just laughed. Aang, who had waited with the tribute sled, arrived, landing Appa gently in the snow. The large beast lowed as Aang jumped down and attendants rushed forward. Hakoda welcomed the Avatar warmly, but was distracted when another attendant arrived to check in the tribute. If they were wondering why there was no Fire Nation emissary with them, no one asked.

Katara and Sokka, meanwhile, were ushered inside.

The buildings were made mostly out of ice and snow, with oddly open entranceways and wide halls. Heat did not build up here as they did in the igloos back home. Instead, people bundled in ornate layers, almost to the point of immobility. Hard labor, which required more freedom of movement, was done in short shifts to allow people to warm up before having to remove clothing.

It all resulted in a more regal presentation, but it just seemed like so much more work.

Servants took her things to her father’s apartment, as he had permanent holdings within the palatial city. Katara meanwhile was, for awhile, with her father and brother, but broke off to use the restroom. When she returned to the hall they had been in, she found it empty.

After wandering around aimlessly for a few minutes, Katara finally found someone else wandering the halls.

“Excuse me.” Katara called as she trotted up to the man. He was about her age and was dressed in normal Northern clothes, which meant he probably knew where he was going.

“Do you know where the king is receiving the Avatar?” She asked and the man blinked.

“Most likely in the great hall. At least, that’s where I saw the tribute being taken.” He paused and smiled warmly at her. “I’m headed there myself, may I escort you?”

“Thank you, that’d be nice.” They walked down the hall for a bit silently, with Katara looking around at the halls. “The palace has changed since they last time I was here.”

“Oh yes. With the Southern Reconstruction going on, it’s been a good time for architects. The ones who didn’t get signed to contracts for the south have been put to work here.” The man said and Katara nodded.

“It’s weird. I want to see the Southern tribe improve but at the same time,” She drifted.

“You don’t want to lose your culture right?” The man finished and Katara smiled.

“Is it that obvious?”

“It’s a common argument around here. The company in charge of the project is facing a lot of pushback.”

“That’s unfortunate, and I mean that honestly.”

“Chief Hakoda has been trying his best.” The man replied and Katara nodded. Her father would try his best, pushing forward to improve the lives of his people.

“Ah, here we are.” The man paused as they reached a door. “This is the side entrance, but it’s not an official greeting at the moment.” He opened the door and let Katara step through. A lot of people were bustling around the large room, and indeed this was where the tribute had been heaped. As Katara craned her neck trying to find someone familiar, she felt the man approach from behind. He waved his arm in the air, flagging someone.

“Hakoda! I found your daughter!” He called out. Katara smiled when she saw her father lift up his head and then start over. Katara turned to the man who escorted her.

“Do you know my father?” She asked. The man smiled, it was a nice smile, and nodded.

“I do. I mean, most everyone does, but I get to work with him.” He said.

“Ah, Amaq, thank you for bringing Katara here.” Hakoda said and Katara frowned as she heard the name.

The two men spoke in front of her but Katara didn’t pay any attention. She had heard the name before, but she couldn’t place where. Who had told her? Who had been in the North Pole to tell her?

She got letters from her family. Hakoda, Pakku, Gran-Gran.

Katara snapped to focus.

Gran-Gran.

“You’re the prince?” Katara balked and the two men startled, turning to her. Amaq actually colored and rubbed the back of his head bashfully.

“Ah, well, yes. I thought you knew who I was.” He looked away with a small nervous smile. “I have no idea how you would know that but…” He broke off into a mumble and Katara groaned.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t even think to ask.” She said. Hakoda laughed, putting one arm around Amaq’s shoulders and the other clapped the prince’s upper arm.

“Amaq is still getting used to the office of prince. He’s only been one for what, four years?” Hakoda jostled Amaq, who chuckled and stepped free.

“How did you end up being adopted? Were your parents okay with that?” Katara asked. Hakoda’s face fell and he coughed into his fist. Katara glanced between them, confused.

“My parents died.” He said with a small smile and Katara squeezed her eyes shut.

“I am so sorry.” She groaned. “I can be phenomenally stupid.”

“It’s alright Katara. I’m sure you understand.” Amaq looked at Hakoda. “My father died during an early invasion by the Fire Nation.” He turned back to Katara. “My mother was a healer and she was killed at the invasion during the lunar eclipse.”

“She was a bender?” Katara asked.

“They both were.” He paused and his eyes got a faraway look. “They were both excellent people.” Amaq refocused on her and smiled again. “And for their unwavering support of the kingdom, I’ve been adopted into the royal household.”

“That does seem like a lot to get used to.” She remarked.

“Oh that’s nothing when I look at what’s being told about you, Master Katara.” He said and grinned. Katara snorted dismissively and waved him off.

“Well come on Katara, you need to check in with the chief before you head off to your rooms.” Hakoda said and started walking. Katara grabbed his sleeve and winced, looking awkwardly at Amaq.

“Could you just give us a second?” She asked.

“Of course.” Amaq said and then gave a small bow before walking away. Hakoda then turned his full attention to his daughter.

“What’s going on?” Hakoda asked. Katara shifted uneasily and glanced over his shoulder to watch Amaq walk over to where Chief Arnook stood.

“Aang and I,” Katara licked her lips and looked back at Hakoda. “We aren’t together anymore.” Hakoda looked surprised but nodded.

“I had wondered if that was going to happen.” He said and then sighed. “I would like to say we could keep it just among the family, but we’ll need to tell Arnook. And you know what he’ll want to do once he knows you’re available.” Katara groaned and slumped backward slightly.

“Just because I’m not dating Aang doesn’t mean I’m available.” She muttered and Hakoda laughed.

“Come on, we need to go and make our greetings.” He said. Katara straightened and walked over with him.

Arnook was there, though not wearing his official robes. He was talking to someone who had a writing board and who kept pointing at the amassed tribute. Amaq had reached them first and the man with the writing board walked off, leaving the royals to turn and watch Katara approach with Hakoda.

“Master Katara! Welcome back.” Arnook said as Katara bowed.

“It is good to be back Chief Arnook.” She replied. Arnook nodded over at the pile of gifts.

“It seems the young Fire Lord is eager to begin the council’s proceedings early. You were there recently, what do you think of the state of things?” He asked. Hakoda chuckled in surprise.

“Already trying to get her to quit?” He asked and Arnook responded with a thin smile.

“The Fire Nation is economically depressed. I think that while it’s important for reparations to be made, I think it would be a disservice to the United Republic of Nations if we impoverished one to benefit only ourselves.” Katara replied evenly, watching as boxes were being pried open.

“So you would advise leniency?” Arnook inquired.

“I think there is merit in being one to not add to a burden.” Katara said. Arnook nodded and Amaq smiled at her.

“As I said, father, I think it would be wise to welcome a diplomat.” Amaq said and Arnook grunted.

“Arnook, it’s time for dinner. I was hoping to take Katara to my apartment.” Hakoda said.

“Yes, yes. My apologies. Even after a lifetime, I still have a hard time keeping track of the schedules.” The chief replied and, with one last bow, Hakoda and Katara walked away. Katara turned briefly and waved to a smiling Amaq, who waved back.

“He’s a nice guy.” Hakoda said. Katara whirled and glared at him.

“Don’t.” She warned. Hakoda laughed and held up his hands.

“I’m not! I’m just saying,” Hakoda calmed and kept a small, knowing smile. “After losing his daughter, I think Arnook is well served by Amaqjuaq.” He brought Katara into a walking side hug and she chuckled. “Much as I have been well served by my children.”

The apartments Hakoda kept were not within the palace itself, but in the inner apron of the city that radiated from it. He had three floors and a small number of hired servants. What interested Katara, and her brother both, is that the apartment had been modernized.

Wood floors and stone walls were built into the ice. There were vents carved into the ceilings and the fires did not melt the ice that was exposed. It was like a lodge and ice cave, built in tandem.

There was furniture that was no of their tribes, but more Earth Kingdom in nature. There was a low standing couch with embroidered cushions, and a loom woven blanket thrown over the back.

“Did Gran-Gran make this?” Katara asked as she ran her hand over the blanket. It was vaguely South Pole in design, but held the more geometric shapes of the North.

“Actually, no.” Hakoda said after a moment’s hesitation. Katara’s hand rose and hovered.

“Ah.” She said, realizing.

“Will we be meeting the mystery lady tonight?” Sokka’s voice rang out from the stairwell and Katara smiled as she saw him descend.

“No. I thought it best to have it be only family tonight.” Hakoda said, meandering in no real path.

“So no ex-boyfriends?” Sokka asked and eyed Katara, who elbowed him. He grunted but laughed, walking over to steer their father into the kitchen that was attached to the living room.

“The Avatar was asked to dine with the King and his family.” Hakoda answered.

“And Gran-Gran?” Katara interjected as she sat down on the couch.

“With her husband.” Hakoda added.

“Her husband?” Sokka needled.

“I am far too old to call Master Pakku my father.” Hakoda said evenly. Katara rolled her eyes but began to pick absently at the blanket. It was a curious thing and she wondered what it really said about the woman who made it.

Kanna soon arrived with Pakku and the family prepared dinner. Mostly that involved Sokka in the kitchen with Gran-Gran, while Katara and Pakku spoke about Waterbending while Hakoda listened politely.

They ate and caught up, while navigating around the problematic topics involved with politics. Katara mentioned the work being down on the palace grounds in the Fire Nation and Sokka discussed the work happening in Republic City. That sparked a conversation on the restoration project of the South and that fell into a lively debate on the whole thing.

Both Katara and Sokka had issue with calling it a “restoration” project as the South Pole had not decayed during the Hundred Year War but instead been stagnant. There had been no palaces to fall into disrepair, as the young men had been called to battle and the Waterbenders rounded up.

The conversation lasted longer than it should have, causing Kanna to leave Pakku behind as he and Sokka broke into the ale in order to argue the cultural repression of Northern architecture. Katara walked with Kanna to the rooms the older pair kept in the palace itself.

“How do you like being back here Gran-Gran?” Katara asked as they reached the interior courtyard of the palace. Kanna stayed quiet for a minute and then nodded, as if she had come to some sort of agreement.

“It’s funny, but since I met your grandfather in the South Pole, and I raised your father, and with you children, I have come to find that the South is my home. But here is where I was born, where my family is from, and so I find it satisfying to know I will die here.” She said.

“Gran-Gran!” Katara admonished and Kanna chuckled a low dry laugh.

“None of us are meant to live forever Katara.” She said. Katara frowned but didn’t reply and they walked into the palace together.

“How did you find the prince?” Kanna asked suddenly and Katara grumbled.

“I will not be set up Gran-Gran.” She replied.

“I didn’t say anything like that.” Kanna retorted and Katara glanced at her pointedly.

“He is a very nice man.” She said.

“And handsome.” Kanna added. Katara smiled and shook her head.

“Yes, he is very handsome.” She replied and then eyed her grandmother out of her peripheral. “For a Northerner.” Kanna again chuckled and Katara’s smile settled into a more wry expression.

“I would like you to at least get to know him. It will be important for you two to be friends when you young folk take over.” Kanna said.

“I can manage that I think.” Katara agreed.

“Will you return to the Avatar?” Kanna questioned. Katara tilted her head as she thought.

“No. That’s not a possibility anymore.” She said. Kanna didn’t reply.

They made it to Kanna and Pakku’s rooms, where Katara kissed her grandmother good night. After assuring her that she could make it back on her own, Katara began walking back toward the courtyard.

It was easier to retrace her footsteps and she came to it easily enough. The guards nodded to her and she went to an ice fountain that stood silent. She sat on the edge and collected her thick fur coat around her, nestling into it up to her chin. Gazing up at the sky, she felt a little sad to see that the moon was waning, thus meaning the nights would be getting darker.

It was quiet, as most people had settled into the dark days schedule of strict sleeping times. It was impossible for most people to regulate their sleeping cycles so the hours were kept exactingly during the light and dark days. Midday Moon Madness was just as real as Midnight Sun Stroke. But with the long journey compounding the lack of sunlight to orient herself, Katara felt like she herself occupied a physical twilight. She was neither tired nor fully awake, instead feeling sort of dreamy.

“Master Katara?” Startled, Katara stood and turned, finding Amaq standing behind her.

“Oh, Amaq.” Katara said dumbly. Amaq smiled and stepped forward.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He said.

“You didn’t.” Katara sat back down automatically, frowned, then rose again. “I was heading back to my father’s home but I wanted to just, sit.” Internally, Katara groaned.

“I can understand that. It’s the one upside to the dark times, the tranquility.” Amaq replied and Katara smiled quickly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier.” She blurted and Amaq shrugged.

“There is literally no way you should be expected to have known who I was. You on the other hand, I knew immediately.” He said and sat down on the ledge of the fountain. Katara returned to her seat as well.

She didn’t know how to respond so she stayed silent and looked about her, fidgeting.

“Katara,” Amaq started and Katara immediately faced him. He took in a breath, as if he was about to say something, but he paused and his breath hitched as he released it. She waited, giving him the space to begin again.

Amaq clasped his hands together, letting them fall between his knees, and he looked down at them.

“I know you’re aware of what everyone is thinking. About the potential, let’s say alliance, that we could make.” Amaq clenched his fingers and then released his hands. He put his hands on his knees and looked over at her. “But I want you to know that I will not attempt to court you for political gain, unless it is something you are amenable to.” Surprised, Katara recoiled slightly.

“I didn’t expect you to come out and say that.” She admitted and Amaq laughed, pushing his hair back from his face as he did.

“My whole life is political now. I don’t,” Amaq shied and turned his face away from her again. “I don’t want to marry on a political pretense if it is undesired by the bride.”

“But you would.” Katara said and Amaq looked at her. “Marry for political reasons?”

“In this instance, yes.” He said. “I could do worse than the beautiful Master Katara who helped the Avatar save the world.” Katara felt her face warm and she pulled her coat up higher to hide in.

“I would like to have the opportunity to get to know you Katara, and not have you worry if it’s a pretense. Regardless of how things turn out, you and I will be working together someday.” Amaq continued.

“My grandmother just told me the same exact thing.” Katara said lightly.

“It has been a long conversation here.” Amaq stated and Katara nodded.

“I would like to get to know you as well Amaq.” She said, her voice muffled by her coat. Hearing Amaq rise, she looked up.

“Would you like to join me in the waking hours for bending exercise? I train with the other new corps and I’m sure they’d love the opportunity to work with you.” He said. Katara raised her head and smiled.

“I would enjoy that.” She said. Amaq held out his hand and she took it, letting him pull her up. He lingered, holding her gloved hand in his own.

“I will call on you then. Would you like an escort to your father’s home?” He asked. Katara shook her head, finding it impossible to reply right away. Amaq let go of her hand and she pulled it toward her body. “Then I bid you good sleeping hours.” Katara gave him a curt nod and watched as he walked back to the palace. She too quickly turned and began walking stiffly back toward her father’s.

There were twisting threads surrounding her and Katara worried how each choice she made would tighten them. Amaq was a dangerous knot, and she did not wish to be strangled or entrapped.

Having Aang here was another tangle and with a bitter, pained heart, she was almost thankful that Zuko was so far behind her.

Katara stopped and put a hand to her chest, where there was an actual pain. Tears were dangerous during this season, but she felt the hot prick in her eyes.

Why had she been so angry with him? There had been no reason to part on those terms.

“Zuko.” She whispered to herself, just to feel the name in her mouth. With a sniff, Katara blinked back the tears and walked back to the home she desperately wanted to feel like was the right one.

Chapter 2: Suitors

It was still dark when Katara was shaken awake. A maid holding a lamp nodded to her as Katara startled awake and then settled into disoriented grogginess. She wondered how long it would take her to succumb to sun deprivation.

“Katara, the prince is here.” The maid said after lighting the wall torches. Another jolt went through her and Katara threw back the heaps of blankets and furs.

“Blazes, how early does that man wake up?” Katara muttered. Hearing the foreign curse, the maid’s eyes widened but she said nothing.

“He is speaking with Master Pakku in the living room.” The maid stated. Katara nodded and rubbed her face vigorously. It was hard to wake up during the dark season.

“Tell him I’ll be down shortly.” Katara said and the maid dipped a small curtsey. When she left, Katara set herself to quickly dressing.

After a few minutes, Katara clattered down the stairs and found Amaq, alone, examining the blanket from the couch. He looked up as he heard her approach and smiled.

“I apologize for calling so early. I suspect the palace works on a different schedule.” He said and laid the blanket back down. “That is an interesting design.” Amaq gestured to it and Katara stepped up, running her hand over it.

“My father’s, well, girlfriend. She made it.” Katara said and then looked up at Amaq, returning his smile.

“Malina?” Amaq glanced back down at the blanket. “That is surprising.”

“How so?”

“I didn’t think she had the patience for weaving, to be perfectly honest.” Katara didn’t know what to do with that information, and so said nothing. Amaq shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. “Were you still interested in coming to drill this morning?”

“Of course!” Katara said in a rush and Amaq chuckled.

“Wonderful, I think you’ll be excited about this.” He paused and looked her over, almost concerned. “Would you like to eat first? I don’t before drilling but I know some people prefer it. Otherwise, we could eat at the palace after.”

“We can eat after. My stomach isn’t even awake yet.” She replied. Amaq flashed a grin and then gestured to the door.

They walked together and Amaq explained the concept of his platoon. The North Pole still did not have a standing army - it went against the Treaty of Ba Sing Se for any nation to have one - but they had put together a reserve. Much of the core reservists were non-benders and trained in defense, specifically focusing on engaging in close quarters due to how the North Pole was built.

The Waterbenders who were part of the reserves were placed in one of two squads within the platoon: Moon Squad and Night Squad . Moon Squad also focused on defense, but were more aggressive in their fighting. The Night Squad was focused on offense with a speciality in stealth and city warfare.

Both of the squads were mixed.

The ban on teaching women in martial bending had been lifted, but with heavy caveats. Women who wished to be trained in martial bending had to enlist in the reserves and they were limited to being healers. The concept was that if the healers were attacked or were called to fill in depleted fronts, they had to have martial training to fall back on.

However, if a woman got married, was married, or became pregnant, she was dismissed from the reserves.

“So, it’s far from perfect, but it is an improvement.” Amaq said and Katara sighed, letting go of her retort.

“How did Arnook get sold on the idea?” She asked instead.

“I wanted the reserves, just in case. And I pointed out that it was hardly fair to bar women who wanted to volunteer since the world saving Waterbender was none other than Master Katara.” Amaq replied and Katara chuckled.

“The best thing is,” Amaq went on. “The term for enlistment is only ten years and the age to volunteer is eighteen. So, a young woman joins the reserves, trains up in martial bending, and at only twenty-eight is released as a Guardsman.”

“And what does that do?” Katara questioned.

“A Guardsman is the same rank as a Master.” Amaq said. When he saw Katara still looking confused, he continued. “They can unofficially take students.”

“Oooooooh.” As realization dawned on her, Katara felt pleasantly surprised. “Does that mean they have the same legal status as a Master?”

“The Guardsman do, yes. Unfortunately, any students they take would be unable to get a designation unless they join the reserves.”

“Not perfect, but definitely an improvement.” Katara agreed and Amaq smiled.

They approached a large courtyard that was devoid of any decoration. A large group of about fifty people were milling around the courtyard, talking and shivering. Spotting Amaq, a horn blew and the platoon fell into five lines, with two men standing in the middle.

“Good morning your Highness.” The two men said in unison and saluted. At the same time, Katara watched as the lines of the platoon snapped to attention and also saluted. All in perfect time.

Amaq returned the salute and then gestured Katara forward. The two men and the platoon still held their salute.

“Good morning Master Katara.” The two men said. Katara awkwardly returned the salute and mumbled a greeting.

“At ease.” Amaq said, then repeated as he turned to the platoon. “At ease.” The platoon and the two leaders - Katara figured they were leaders of some sort - fell into a trained yet relaxed stance.

“Katara, this is Senior Guardsman Karpok and Pimniq. Karpok overseas Moon Squad and Pimniq, Night Squad.” Amaq explained.

“It is an honor to have you here this morning Master Katara.” Karpok said.

“Normally, Karpok and Pimniq drill their squads separately but I thought a joint exercise might be best.” Amaq turned to her and his eyes glittered. “They all wanted to see the Hero of the South Pole.” Katara rolled her eyes. Then she froze.

“Wait, I’m not leading the drill am I?” She shot back at him. Amaq laughed and Pimniq fought a smile.

“No, no. I thought we’d go through our regular drills and, if you’re up for it, you could show us a thing or two.” Amaq replied and Katara sighed heavily in relief.

Morning drill was usually an hour, and involved the squads breaking into sparring pairs or small sections to practice forms. There were longer, more intensive training parts of the day where combat - and healing for the women - was taught, practiced, and refined.

This morning, due to the novelty and the gathering of the whole platoon, the morning drill was extended to two hours. Katara circulated among the groups, taking part in exercises she was unfamiliar with, while with the pairs she found herself critiquing forms. It was amazing to see so many women - almost a fourth of the platoon was made up of women Benders - and she had even recognized some of the healers she had met during her first visit to the North Pole.

After the drills, the platoon was dismissed, though many of the Guardsmen hung around to talk to her. However, Katara felt a familiar band tightening in her head and she was looking forward to breakfast. She looked around for Amaq and found him surrounded as well. Though by lavishly dressed women and not the uniformed Guardsmen.

“Who are they?” Katara asked idly, to no one in particular.

“Oh, they’re Ice Girls.” Mikki, a First Class Guardsman, answered. Katara glanced at her quickly before looking back at the group, her brows furrowed.

“Ice Girls?” She repeated in question.

“Ice Girls live in the palace. Snow Girls live in the city and Slush Girls live near the docks.” Mikki explained. “Those Ice Girls are the daughters of ministers or Masters and want to marry the next chief.” Katara pulled a face as she contemplated that.

“So what am I?” Katara asked, turning to face Mikki, who laughed.

“If you weren’t a Master you mean?” Mikki asked, one eyebrow raised in wry frankness. “You’re a Southerner. That is a class of its own.” Katara huffed.

“Should I be offended?” She remarked.

“Not by me,” Mikki replied. “Before I joined the reserves, I was a Slush Girl. Being a Guardsman is my ticket up.”

“But you can’t get married.” Katara, while eschewing marriage for herself, still didn’t like the idea of having the option totally removed from choice.

“That really isn’t a problem for people like us.” Another woman, Atuktuk, said as she draped her arms over Mikki’s shoulders. Mikki hissed and tried to shrug the other woman off, but Atuktuk didn’t move.

“People like you?” Katara repeated, confused.

“We’re career girls. In it for life.” Atuktuk said and Mikki clicked her tongue. Still confused, Katara said her farewells and walked over to where Amaq was holding court.

As she got closer though, it looked more like he was trapped.

“Amaq?” Katara said as she got closer and Amaq turned to her.

“Katara!” He replied a little too forcefully.

“Can we get breakfast now?” She asked.

“Of course!” He turned back to the group of women and clapped his hands together. “Forgive me ladies, but I promised to escort Master Katara to breakfast with my father.” Amaq hastily retreated and flicked his head to the side so Katara would follow. As they left, Katara glanced back over her shoulder quickly, and found the women glaring after her.

“You’ve got quite the fan club.” Katara remarked as she faced forward. Amaq sighed and he seemed to deflate a little.

“I knew there would be suitors, but I never could have imagined the intensity.” He said, his tone low. With a shake of his head, he brightened and looked over at her. “Having you here has actually dampened it.”

“Oh?” It was all Katara could think to say.

“Well, even though you’re with the Avatar there’s still-”

“I’m not.” Katara interjected quickly. Amaq stopped speaking and eyed her. “I’m not with the Avatar.”

“Ah.”

“It’s fairly recent.” They lapsed into an awkward silence but Amaq quickly recovered.

“Well then, I just want to apologize for everything that my parents are going to do once they find out.” He said and Katara, startled, stopped.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“Remember how I told you I wanted you to see my friendship as something without an ulterior motive?” He said and Katara nodded. “Well, they are going to make an ulterior motive very obvious.” With a mix of a laugh and a groan, Katara started walking again.

“When did someone decided to politicize romance?” She asked and Amaq laughed.

“The moment property became powerful.” He replied. They entered the palace and found it surprisingly active. At one point, Amaq took her hand to guide her through the pockets of people as they made their way to a smaller dining room.

Even more surprising was finding her family and Aang there.

The room paused as they entered, as the food had already been served, and Amaq released Katara’s hand.

“Ah, Amaq, did drill go overlong?” Arnook asked.

“It did. I’ll admit, I wanted to show off the platoon.” Amaq said as they both walked over to the long table. Amaq went and kissed his mother’s cheek, while Katara went and took her seat next to Sokka.

“How did you find the troops Katara?” Arnook asked. Katara was distracted by a servant bringing her various dishes, but she looked down the length of the table toward the chief.

“They were amazing, though I can imagine it’s a bit boring to be a soldier during a time of peace.” She said and caught Amaq smile.

“Your father has told us that you are visiting the Restoration Project’s office today.” Siku, the chief’s wife, said.

“I am.” Katara replied awkwardly, trying to make it sound like less of a question. She continued earnestly. “I am very excited about the project.”

“Malina will definitely be pleased to hear of your family’s support.” Siku said.

For awhile, the conversation consisted of broad, innocent topics, mostly involving how the Avatar was acclimating to the dark season. More, Katara wanted to know, was how he was acclimating to the cuisine. She remembered well how much Aang disliked South Pole food, and while the North Pole was definitely influenced by the Earth Kingdom, there was still a lot of meat.

And sea prune stew.

Katara watched with no small amount of glee as Aang diplomatically responded to the inquiries. A few times, Arnook would ask something of him that regarded Katara’s family, alluding to their previous relationship. This, Katara listened to nervously as Aang dodged the topic.

Her father had not yet spoken to the chief it seemed.

To complete the nosedive of the conversation, Arnook brought up the biggest topic on the global stage at the moment.

“Amaqjuag has been pressing me to allow a Fire Nation diplomat to visit before the council meeting in the summer.” Arnook began idly.

“I heard General Iroh was coming in the spring.” Sokka interjected as he scooped a generous portion of sea prune stew.

“Yes, but it seems that the Fire Lord is eager to visit.” Arnook said. Katara’s stomach twisted, but she focused intently on her food.

“Zuko is coming here?” Aang asked excitedly, and Arnook cleared his throat.

“Unfortunately, the young Fire Lord is attending to other business. And he’ll be spending the month in mourning.” Arnook said and paused briefly. “The poor boy has lost so much in his young life.”

Silence fell over the table and Katara looked up. Sokka stared at her, a blank look on his face. After a moment, he turned and looked down the table toward the royal family.

“So is he sending a minster?” Sokka asked, breaking the quiet.

“The letter he sent along with his, gifts, mentioned sending his Minister of Interior Affairs. She would also be accompanied by a new priest of something called the Cult of Shawran.” Arnook paused and gave a dissatisfied grunt. “The priest apparently wants to examine the Spirit Oasis.” Amaq perked up and beamed at his father.

“Perhaps I can introduce him to Annin.” Amaq quickly turned to Katara. “Annin is the head of the Followers of the Atka. They’re trying to create a similar oasis in the South Pole to the one we have here.”

“Tiguaq.” Siku said gently. Amaq calmed, a little, and smiled softly at his mother.

“They really aren’t so bad.” He replied.

“When is the Minister supposed to arrive?” Hakoda asked.

“In three weeks. There is still a week left in the royal mourning period I believe.” Arnook answered.

Breakfast finished quickly and Katara excused herself as soon as she possibly could. She claimed exhaustion after waking up so early. As she slid her chair away from the table, Aang also rose.

“I can walk you back Katara.” He said. Katara froze with her mouth slowly open.

“Uhhhhhhh.” She turned, feeling someone staring at her, and caught Amaq’s eye. Something in her face made him lean forward. But just as he started to stand, Sokka stood up abruptly.

“She doesn’t need an escort.” He said and started walking around the table toward her. “But I’m heading home anyway to grab a few things.”

“Well I-” Aang started, but now Amaq did stand.

“Avatar, if you have the time, I would like to get your impression of the Followers.” Amaq said.

“But…” Aang drifted and looked at Katara.

“I would appreciate it as well Avatar. I think my son is overfond of the group.” Arnook added and Aang looked pained as he turned away.

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Hakoda said as he too finally rose from the table. Arnook inclined his head and Katara mouthed her thanks to Amaq.

As Katara, Hakoda, and Sokka left the dining room, Katara let out a loud breath. Hakoda chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m going to my office, but I’ll send someone by to get you to show you around.” He said. Katara looked up at him balefully. He laughed again. “Later, I promise.” With that they waved their goodbyes and Hakoda headed deeper into the palace while Katara and Sokka walked toward the city.

“If Suki were here, I think she’d finally understand.” Sokka said as they left the main building. The vast black sky stretched over them, holding twinkling stars in its depth. The moon was just a bit thinner than yesterday and Katara frowned reflexively.

“What do you mean?” She asked, still looking up as they walked.

“Between Amaqjuaq and Aang, I will be surprised if you can even get a moment to yourself while we’re here.” Sokka explained. Katara let out a short laugh and then faced forward.

“Aang will get it through his head that…” Katara lost the thread of her thought and just tapered off.

“That you don’t love him anymore.” Sokka finished for her.

“Yeah.”

The silence that came with nighttime, even though it was morning, was nestled into every gap. Even between their pauses, it wedged itself in, allowing Katara to only hear the crunch of snow under their feet and the soft workings of her lungs.

“So Katara, I want to ask you something.” Sokka said so smoothly, it was if he was breathing out the words.

“Sure.”

“Aang asked me who you met in the Fire Nation.” Katara’s stomach twisted again and her throat squeezed shut. Sokka went on. “Now, we were all together a lot and I don’t remember you being out with anyone.”

In the quiet of his pause, Katara could hear the hammering of her heart as it rattled her chest and crashed through her ears.

“And I don’t think you’re the type of person to lie out of hand, just to be nasty.” Sokka said. Katara bit the inside of her cheek as she thought.

She could lie. It would be easy to say that she had been driven to that point of nastiness and spat out something she knew would hurt Aang. Sokka would probably understand and Katara knew he wouldn’t judge her regardless.

But that would mean lying to her brother.

It had been one thing to hide her relationship with Zuko from the public. Even with Chang’s handpicked staff, someone undesirable might happen upon an embrace and Zuko’s already fragile reputation would be crushed.

It was another thing entirely to hide it from their friends.

There had been nights when it was just the four of them. The staff had long since retired, they had emptied a number of kegs of ale, and were just enjoying each other’s company.

One night, specifically, they had almost let it slip.

They had ended up on a deck overlooking one of Zuko’s favorite gardens. It was where he had often gone with his mother to feed the turtleducks. Sokka and Suki reclined together on a lounge while Zuko and Katara shared a couch. They sat apart but Katara found herself curling onto the cushions and leaning toward him. Occasionally, they would look at each other and Zuko would smile warmly at her.

It would have been nothing to move closer to him, to have him hold her to his chest as they all talked.

Just imagining him kissing the side of her head softly made her heart thunder even louder.

But they had not moved. After some time, Suki excused herself to bed and Sokka had gone with her. Then Katara moved, Zuko’s body turned to accept her. They lay on that couch, chest to chest, while their breathing synced and they shared the same pulse.

There had been no discussion about hiding things. It was just how it had to be.

And if they couldn’t even be honest with their friends, how could they ever have a lasting relationship of any kind?

Katara shook her head, clearing away the past and focusing on Sokka.

It didn’t make any sense to be honest with him, as it would only open a still fresh wound. Plus, Katara knew it was over. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to go back to Zuko.

“I,” Katara stopped as abruptly as she started. Taking a steadying breath, she started again. “Remember Razan?” Sokka immediately looked incredulous.

“I am one hundred percent certain that he is gay.” He said. Katara snorted in spite of herself.

“Well, he certainly isn’t one hundred percent into women.” She countered. “But I could work with the difference.” Sokka choked on a laugh but shook his head.

“And here we thought you just really enjoyed the library.” He said.

During the time when Katara had been trying to distance herself from Zuko, she had spent a lot of time in a small library. And Razan had often been at hand to serve, but not in the capacity she was insinuating to Sokka.

“Is he a Firebender?” Sokka asked. Katara considered the question, and shook her head.

“No. I don’t think they allow Firebenders as servants.” She replied. Sokka nodded as if she affirmed something. “Why?”

“I just could never picture you being with a Firebender. I mean, you’ve gotten over a lot but I just can’t imagine you making that leap.” He explained.

He was speaking, of course, of their mother.

“I don’t know, Zuko’s not so bad.” Katara said quickly and then seized up. Sokka didn’t seem to notice, as he snorted.

“That’ll be the day.” Sokka muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Katara questioned indignantly.

“You and Prince Socially Awkward? No way. Plus,” Sokka stopped moving and looked her squarely in the eyes. “He’s my Fire Nation beau.” Katara scoffed and rolled her eyes as Sokka grinned.

“I still can’t imagine you two being so close.” She said as they started walking again. Sokka shrugged exaggeratedly.

“Eh. Like you said, he’s really not so bad.” They were quiet, comfortably so, for a few moments. “Plus, you can’t be any more surprised than I was seeing you two being friendly.”

Her heartbeat had calmed, but now it fluttered momentarily.

“Don’t get jealous now.” Katara quipped.

They reached Hakoda’s apartments, their apartments too she supposed, and walked inside. The rooms were quiet and the siblings looked around.

“I don’t think anything will ever feel like home.” Sokka murmured.

“Once you and Suki settle down, then it’ll feel like home.” She replied. Sokka heaved a heavy sighed and shook his head slowly. Otherwise, he did not respond.

“Can you come get me in an hour? I want to lay down.” Katara asked and Sokka nodded before moving into the living room. Katara watched him as he sat down on the couch and then moved to the stairs.

Once she was in her room, Katara too let out a weighted sigh. She wished, with more fervor than she expected, that Chang would bring her tea and they could talk. She felt bereft, robbed, and it was a familiar feeling that she was tired of lugging around.

First, after her mother had passed, Katara often felt the absences where her routine included a maternal figure. Nightmares were no longer brushed away by her mother’s soft hand. Her small bending feats were no longer presented to her mother the same way Sokka presented a fish to Hakoda.

When her father left, she suddenly felt the empty space his presence usually filled. There was an energy and physical support that Hakoda offered, and it was gone. If Kya’s death had been a rug ripped from under her, Hakoda’s departure was her realizing she had been standing over a pit.

Having everyone scatter after the end of the war had also shaken her. In less than a year, they had all come together and found themselves bound by ties stronger than kin or even love. Destiny and survival were heavy chains of iron that anchored them together. But once destiny and survival had been faced, the chains melted away.

Perhaps that was why she had clung to Aang. He was a constant, and offered her a lifeline.

Chang’s death had punched her in the gut. There had been, briefly, the maternal hand to disperse the nightmares. And Azula had taken that away. And Zuko had rewarded her.

Katara squeezed her eyes shut as she leaned against the closed door of her room. As tears fell down her cheeks, so did she slowly slide down to the floor.

That wasn’t why she was angry.

Opening her eyes, Katara felt a shuddering breath leave her.

Chang had made her choice, much in the same way Katara’s mother had. Chang had chosen her.

Zuko had chosen duty over her.

If it had come down to it, Katara believed she would not have been able to kill Azula. But she remembered Hama, remembered how anger could warp a person. Katara had been so angry for so long, she was unsure if she would have been able to restrain herself from seriously harming Azula.

“Then good, he saved you from doing something horrible that you would have regretted forever!” Katara muttered to herself. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them.

Zuko would always choose duty over her. It was why they hadn’t even told Sokka and Suki the truth. Zuko would never really run off to open a tea shop with her. Stepping between her and Azula, instead of going to her, showed her how he thought.

Zuko would break himself for his nation. So he would not move to be with her.

For once, Katara just wanted to be more important than a nation. She wanted to be more important than family. Sokka could run from everything he had ever known to be with Suki. Katara wanted that.

And Zuko would not leave his throne.

Huddled against the door, Katara began to quietly weep.

Chapter 3

If she had been worried about meeting Malina, Katara quickly realized it was over nothing. The woman was young, born in the North Pole but spent most of her life in the Earth Kingdom. Katara suspected that she had been picked as lead architect due to her being the most neutral Northerner around.

Not that she wasn’t competent.

Malina showed them the blueprints and schematics, with large sketches of how she imagined the small pockets of tribes being laid out. She spoke with a lot of energy but would falter or cut off when she found Katara and Sokka staring.

During lunch, Hakoda took them to a restaurant that served Southern fare, though with heavy interpretation on the part of the Northern cooks.

“So what are you doing up here? Shouldn’t you be in the South Pole?” Sokka asked Malina as they started on their meal. Malina looked startled, but then cast a quick glance at Hakoda.

“My brother Maliq usually oversees the field. But I’m here to submit a requisition for additional supplies.” Malina paused to stir her stew. “We’ve been having some trouble at a few of the sites. We’re running critically low on some supplies.”

“What’s been happening?” Sokka asked before scooping a large sea prune into his mouth.

“Well…” Malina drifted and looked at Hakoda again, who in turn, sighed heavily.

“There’s been a streak of sabotage.” He explained

“You don’t think it’s the villagers?” Katara asked, concerned. Hakoda shook his head and Malina put her hand on the table.

“We’re being assured that while some people aren’t happy, they haven’t touched the sites.” Malina said. “And we’re not inclined to disbelieve them.” Katara relaxed and stirred her stew.

“But it has to be something.” Sokka posited. “Could it be the weather?”

“For some things. There has been some seismic activity at the center of the pole that’s damaged structures. But recently some heavy machinery has been damaged.” Malina replied.

“That’s so disappointing.” Katara sighed and shook her head slowly.

“It’s nothing we can’t manage. It’s just pushing back our timetable and straining our budget.” Malina said brightly.

“Of course. And everyone knows those things aren’t important.” Sokka interjected blithely. Malina smiled while Katara and Hakoda laughed.

The lunch was, easy. Katara was worried, when they had been walking over to Malina’s office, that she would dislike the woman. For not being Kya. It was irrational, and she truly did want her father to find happiness with a partner again, but it was still something that tugged at the back of her mind.

Meeting Malina, she found a woman that was so unlike Kya, there was no way to compare the two.

Overall, Katara found Malina easy to get along with, though the woman seemed to try too hard. Sokka took to her quickly, as they talked about the university Malina went to in the Earth Kingdom. Katara smirked as she saw Sokka laying down plans to get Malina to change their father’s mind about sending Sokka to learn law.

After lunch, Katara knew that she wouldn’t find a mother in Malina. Where Chang had been wordly and conspiratorial, Malina was friendly and a little high strung.

When they said goodbye, Katara hugged Malina warmly, feeling the woman stiffen slightly in surprise.

“Thank you for taking care of my father. It means so much to me to see you both happy together.” Katara said and Hakoda smiled at her as he put his arm around Malina’s shoulder. Malina, for all her education, could think of nothing to say.

“So what do you have planned for the rest of the day?” Malina asked.

“Some friends were heading to a lodge. I was going to go with them.” Sokka said and both Hakoda and Katara snapped to attention.

“Friends?” Katara said at the same time Hakoda asked, “Lodge?”

“I did make friends during the war.” Sokka replied. “And yeah, they’re taking over a lodge for their fathers. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

The lodges were cabins built on an ice shelf, where men got together and fished through a hole in the ice. Mostly it involved a lot of drinking and boating, while occasionally the lucky lodge would find a lion seal coming up from the hole.

“But you just got here.” Hakoda said, plaintively. Sokka shrugged, bringing his hands up.

“And I love you but I want to go ice fishing.” He stated. Hakoda looked forlorn but Malina put a hand to his chest.

“They’ll be here a while yet.” She said softly and Hakoda sighed.

“Fine.” He turned to Katara. “What about you Katara?”

“I need to meet with Master Kupun to begin learning about law codes. You did say you were saving that project for me.” Katara added wryly. The tribes of the South Pole were barely unified under any sort of jurisdiction, and so with the fifty some tribes came fifty some constitutions and codes of law.

It wasn’t a difficult project to stitch them together, but it was tedious.

“You won’t only be working will you?” Malina inquired.

“She could always start up another torrid romance.” Sokka quipped and Katara glared at him.

“Romance?” Hakoda repeated, sounding alarmed. Katara let out an exasperated noise and her shoulders slumped.

“I’ll be working with Amaq.” She turned back to her father and straightened. “I’ve never been formally trained and I’ve been picking up a lot of bad habits. Amaq has offered his squads for me to go through some exercises with. And I think I’ll be heading to the healing hut.”

“That just sounds like more work to me.” Hakoda said pointedly and Katara grumbled.

“I admire your work ethic.” Malina smiled and Katara returned the gesture.

By the end of the week, Katara had settled into a routine. She spent the mornings with Amaq’s Moon Squad to correct and strengthen her combative bending. The mornings were for Master Kupun, to go over charters and law codes, while going over the submitted documents from the various south pole tribes. The evening, Katara would eat a quick meal with her father - and sometimes Malina - before going to the healing hut for a more indepth education on healing.

At her first visit, she had spurned the healing lessons as they had placed her with the children. Now that she was a Master, however, Katara was allowed to learn more about surgical procedures, and, more importantly, how to use Waterbending on internal injuries.

Healer Nukilik explained that working with the inside of the body required sightless reognition of organs and a way to feel for things that should not be present, or were conspicuously absent from where they should be. To gain this intimate level of familiarity, Katara first had to learn her own body.

“All of the world is controlled by rhythms and cycles. Our minds act as a moon to pull on the tides of our bodies, making us tired or alert or stressed. In meditation, you can learn to feel for that tide, and through it, feel the organs an the fluids that sustain us.” Nukilik was an old woman, and was able to tell the gender of a baby while still in the womb. There was the story of how she told a mother she would bear a son, but when the baby was born, the parents exclaimed that it was a girl.

“When you can feel the tide, you can feel the true self of a person. You can tell if the child will grow into a bender, and what kind. You can tell the true identity of the person.” Nukilik explained. The child was ‘beer poured into a water pitcher,’ he was later named Sillia after he successfully completed the ice dodging rite and Nukilik was proven right.

So Katara learned, once again, how to meditate.

Aang had of course taught her how, showing her how to let the edges of her mind dissolve so that she could be more apart of the world around her. Nukilik changed all of that, telling her that now she had to sharpen the boundaries of her mind and body. She had to learn to trace the boundaries without her hands, to learn the proper shape and heft of them.

It took time for her to get used to the change in scope, from outward to inward, and it was a struggle that frustrated her. The inside of the body, even inside of the mind, was slick. Organs were jammed into place and Katara couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. The bowels were the worst and the same organ held three different sections that ebbed in their own rhythms.

After days of not being able to identitfy the proper placement of organs, Nukilik took Katara into the treatment room. An older man laid on a rug, a young woman kneeling at his head.

“This is Qimmiq. He suffers from inflammation of the bowels.” Nukilik said as they approached the pair. “Good evening Qimmiq.” Qimmiq groaned on the floor and the young woman nodded to them as they knelt on the other side of the man.

“What is the treatment?” Katara asked. Nukilik smiled and held up her hands.

“Bending.” She looked back down at the man. “It’s the only thing that seems to work, but it is temporary.” Nukilik paused, seeming to examine Qimmiq. She then looked up at the young woman.

“Has you father taken nothing but water?” She asked. The young woman nodded once. Nukilik turned to Katara. “Alright, I want you to find his bowels.” Katara grimaced but pulled melted snow around her hands. She held them above Qimmiq’s lower abdomen and almost immediately felt something hot and tight.

“Here?” She asked and Nukilik nodded.

“Now, you will need to use the water in his system to massage the bowels gently.” The old woman replied. Katara pulled on the moisture she felt in Qimmiq’s body, gently squeezing on the tubes of flesh.

She also felt that the blood was not being allowed to flow as it wanted.

Feeling her own pulse quicken, Katara focused on her breathing. There was nothing she could do for the blood if the flesh was pressing on its path. She could not force it.

Katara felt the tightness under hands relax. Qimmiq let out a sigh of relief.

Nukilik took over the treatment while Katara prepared boneroot tea. Ground from the roots of one of the rare tubers to grow in the south pole, boneroot was a useful painkiller. It was best not to take it on an empty stomach, however, so Katara brought along a small bowl of sea prune stew.

Once Qimmiq and his daughter had gone home, Nukilik took Katara back into the training room.

“Now that you have felt what is wrong, you should have an easier time recognizing that which is right.” She explained and Katara sat for a moment, feeling her own body. She could recognize the smoothness of her own flesh, how the healthy rhythm of her body was supposed to make it difficult to tell things apart. When things worked as they should, they were barely noticeable.

“How can you feel things like bending?” Katara asked at the end of their session. Nukilik sucked on her teeth as she thought.

“The other nations, they call it Chi. It flows through every living thing and it is the energy that gives us life. In benders, the chi is different. Just as hw I told you there are rhythms for sleep and hunger and the woman’s cycle, so is there a cycle for bending. It is just another thing you will learn to recognize.” She finally said.

“If the other nations call it chi, what do you call it Nukilik?” Katara questioned.

“Life.” Nukilik chuckled and as they walked out of the hut, looked up at the sky. “It is our spirit, that is housed in all things. And what will feed the lights when we have passed on.” Katara looked up and smiled as she saw the Northern Lights run like bright green rivers through the sky.

“Master Katara, Grandmother.” Both women looked down and watched as Amaq approached.

“This is your grandmother?” Katara asked and Amaq laughed.

“Any babies born into Nukilik’s hands call her grandmother.” He replied.

“Two generations of families call me grandmother.” Nukilik said proudly.

“I don’t need an escort Amaq.” Katara said and Amaq took on a haughty look.

“Well, good thing I’m not here for you.” He said and held out his arm to Nukilik. The old woman tittered as she held onto him. Amaq was tall and broad, covered in thick muscles after years of combative training. He towered over the old stout woman.

“When the lights are bright, Amaq comes with me to talk with the spirits.” Nukilik added.

“You talk to the spirits?” Katara directed the question to Nukilik but glanced over at Amaq, who shrugged.

“Well, I talk. I don’t know if they listen.” Nukilik answered.

“I’ve been trying to get her to meet with the Followers. But she won’t.” Amaq said. They had started to walk, and Nukilik tottered along with her hands on Amaq’s arm.

“It seems like a lot of people aren’t fond of these Followers.” Katara remarked. Amaq sighed loudly as Nukilik chuckled.

“There are actually a number of people who are Followers. A lot of the elders are looking to bring back some of the older traditions. But they are very, serious.” Amaq explained.

“Why are you interested in it?” Katara continued.

“You could say it’s a point of pride. The Avatar, well.” Amaq cut himself off, looking annoyed.

“Go on.” Katara prompted.

“Everyone now thinks that the Airbenders were the only ones with a connection to the Spirit World. When even the Fire Lord’s uncle has been there. But we are the protectors of the Spirit Oasis. We house the two living spirits in our pond.” Amaq spoke quickly and sounded almost bitter. “I am tired of the other nations think we’re only good for fur and blubber.”

“The Followers think they can come and go as they please through the Spirit World.” Nukilik quipped.

“Have you been in the Spirit World?” Katara asked idly.

“Yes.” Amaq said, sharing a small smile. “Want to go?”

The followers met in an old lodge. To see that much wood was an oddity in itself among the glittering ice buildings. But even more interesting, were the large animal totems carved into beams supporting the roof.

Instead of meeting with her that morning, Amaq had taken Katara to the Followers’ lodge as he had promised the night before. They stood alone now, as the Followers only met at night as they had other jobs, Katara gasped softly as she looked around.

“How old is this lodge?” She asked.

“Old. It was the first permanent building to be erected among the villagers.” Amaq said.

Katara recalled the book she had read in Zuko’s study. In the south pole, they observed the solstices, returned the bladders of animals as they housed the soul, and reverently told the stories of the greater spirits. She knew from Granny Yura that much of the same rituals and observances were kept in the North Pole, but to a much more lavish degree.

Amaq walked here around the building, pointing to the varied totems of the animals. They were all sea animals: lion seals, jellyfish whales, and large twisting fish. The land animals only lived in the South Pole, but Katara could see smaller motifs carved into what must have been replacement totems.

Katara lightly traced the deeply carved images.

“They don’t look anything like that.” Amaq said. Katara turned to him, smiling.

“You’ve seriously been to the Spirit World?” She questioned and he nodded. She knew Iroh had been. Zuko had told her about how Iroh had once seen Aang on the back of Roku’s dragon. Aang of course, and even Sokka had managed it - though being kidnapped by an angry spirit may not count.

“Admittedly, it’s very difficult. I’m the only one among the Followers who can, though they think they can open a portal through me.” Amaq said.

“Through you?” Katara repeated, slightly alarmed.

“To make a link or something. I’m not sure what they’re thinking, but it’s been life changing to be able to go there.” He clarified.

“I want to go.”  She said emphatically. Amaq chuckled and rubbed his mittened hands together.

“We can definitely try it. It’s similar to the meditation Nukilik teaches. Except you’ll have to go beyond while still holding onto your own mind.” He replied.

“Oh, is that all?” Katara rolled her eyes and Amaq laughed harder.

The other constant item on Katara’s itinerary every day, was dealing with Aang.

As a guest of Arnook, the Avatar stayed in the palace interior and took most of his meals with the royal family. Now that Arnook was aware of their split, he seemed to be filling up the Avatar’s time, while releasing Amaq in order to escort Katara when she needed.

Still, Aang was persistent.

He came to the exercises Katara attended with the squads, but quickly got distracted by showing off.

He tried to sit in on Katara’s meetings with Master Kupun, but between the dry material and the constant night, he would start to nod off part way through.

He would send invitations to take in a show, but Katara had filled her time with training.

She felt bad, knowing that she she was passively avoiding him. It had been her choice to fill her schedule, no one had demanded anything from her. Hakoda had needed to make her summons to the North Pole seem urgent because she had been passively avoiding her obligations here as well.

Water always finds a way around an obstacle, not always meeting problems head on.

It was uncomfortable to have obligations, although it wasn’t unexpected. As Toph had said, they had saved the world, what more did people want from them? For awhile, before they started to reach adulthood, they had had a reprieve. Toph creating her Metal Bending school under the Beifong name was a conflict waiting to happen. But her parents were politic, and could not summon their daughter while she was still so famous.

Sokka had gone with Suki. Katara wondered if her brother was ever bothered by his identity being so inexorably linked to Suki’s. She herself had been obviously straining under the irritation of being the Avatar’s girlfriend.

It had not always been so irritating.

Aang was fun. He was adventerous and spontaneous. It was almost required that he be selfish, as neither the call to adventure nor spontaneity had the time to consider others. However, it was fun to get caught up in that. To not have to always be making decisions. To want to do something in the morning and by the afternoon be on their way.

The world existed to please Aang. How many times had he bemoaned the absence of his friends and games due to the war, instead of the very real losses so many people faced?

He had been a child. They had all been children.

Shivering in the dark afternoon, Katara shook her head. Maybe she was being too hard on him. Afterall, wasn’t she getting angry that Zuko wasn’t abandoning his throne for her?

She sat down at the same muted fountain as she had before. The northern lights still ran its course overhead, offering no useful light for them but shining brightly none the less.

“Katara.” Her name, said a hundred different ways, a hundred hundred different times. She sighed, couldn’t help it, but kept her face tilted up to the sky.

“Hi Aang.” Katara replied, her voice muffled by a scarf.

“So. Been busy?” They had never been this awkward. Even when they had been strangers and he had burst out of an iceberg.

“Just trying to catch up.” She admitted. Hearing him sit down, Katara turned to face him.

“Can’t imagine you needing lessons for anything.” He said, flashing his wide, easy smile at her.

“Just the same issues anyone has at being self taught. I’m sloppy, I don’t know some of the foundations, and compound techniques elude me.” She replied, echoing back some of the criticism Pakku had offered.

“Well your bending seemed to hold up well enough to end a war.” Aang remarked, a tinge of laugh in his voice. Katara shrugged.

“I’m allowed to be bad at things. It doesn’t mean anything to have to learn.” She said blandly. They lapsed into an awkward silence.

“Katara, about Peva.” The name crashed against Katara’s eardrums and she shut her eyes. To her, there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t have her leaving this conversation happy. So why did he feel the need to go into it?

“There’s no need for this Aang.” She said and opened her eyes.

“There is though, if you think something was going on.” He replied. “I didn’t sleep with her.” Katara sighed loudly, emptying her lungs of air.

“It doesn’t matter. You chose to be with her instead of me at times. That should never have been the case.”

“I’m sorry if you felt that I neglected you…”

“Felt?” Katara had managed to keep hersef together. Till he dropped that half-hearted apology. “It has nothing to do with my feelings on the matter if you’ve let your acolytes talk to me as if I was a walking talking womb, whose only purpose is to produce more Air Benders.”

“Lots of people talk about babies Katara.”

“Sure. But even when I’m here, when they talk about how I’m so lucky, it has to do with surviving the purge of Waterbenders from the South Pole. Not about my ability to procreate with the Avatar.”

“No one says that.”

“No? How do I get introduce to the new acolytes?”

“What?”

“When I am being introduced to the new acolytes, I am ‘Katara, the Avatar’s girlfriend.’ In the North Pole, even with their sexist ways of treating women, I am not ‘Hakoda’s daughter.’ I am Master Katara.”

“So you just want to feel important?”

“I am important!” Katara stood abruptly, feeling hot despite the gulping breaths of icy air. “I am sick of feeling like a perk!” Aang did not respond right away, instead just looking up and examining her face.

“I’m sorry Katara. You’re right.” He finally said and stood slowly. “I’m sorry I never made you feel like you were important. You have always been the most important person in my life, and I just assumed you knew. I will try harder.” He hugged her then and in her bewilderment, she could only sputter as he walked away.

“For the love of all that is sacred, please don’t.” She muttered. With a groan, Katara clapped her hands to her face.

She needed to not be surrounded by men.