Chapter Text
Aang sat at the precipice of an active volcano, though it seemed quiet at the moment. He knew how violent and destructive and powerful they could be when the pressure became too much. The air was still and heavy, choking. He looked down across a lush, thick city, down toward the azure sparkling waters of a midday ocean dotted with colorful sails. From his perspective, he could see some of the black sand beach that was famous along the western edge of the island, and the industrial harbor used for warships, the gates of Azulon, and the palace.
But he wasn’t looking at anything. Not really.
His eyes were unfocused, gazing out toward the water, beautiful and ugly, mixing war and art and color and soot. But all he could see was…that day.
He hadn’t wanted to do it. He’d tried to think of everything he could not to.
Then, suddenly, it was time. He was standing in front of the world’s most powerful and dangerous man, and he looked just like Zuko.
No one is beyond saving.
Right?
The Fire Lord had been so confident. He’d told his guards to stand down and prowled over to Aang. He’d felt so nervous and queasy he’d thought he would throw up right then and there.
The man had teased him, and taunted him. Aang tried to stand tall and proud but the words rang true. You’re just a child…You don’t know what you’re doing…You don’t even want to be here…”
Aang wasn’t a killer. Or a fighter. The monks had taught him to see value in all life.
Yet.
He had tried to backtrack, and distance himself from the Fire Lord, not wanting to engage in anything so clearly physical. As much as the man looked like his son, he was decades older and the idea of fighting a man, not a teenager, a man who was so cruel and vicious…
In the moment, Aang had remembered when Katara’s hands were burned. How sick and twisted the man holding them had been, smiling while she screamed.
For her. For those who had suffered. He had to make sure the war ended. And he hadn’t thought of any good way to do it where Ozai could be allowed to live, but the Fire Lord died.
So there he was. Standing in a circle fo guards, armed and ready despite losing their bending, facing a Fire Lord who looked hungry and victorious, unable to muster the strength to fight him all alone.
And he thought of Monk Gyatso.
The smiles. The pies. The pranks.
The dead soldiers. The closed chamber. The calm, seated position of his bones.
Sokka’s guess from the Southern Air Temple.
“ Aang! Can you- could you- is it possible?”
“What, Sokka?”
“Can you air bend all of the air out of a room?”
It was mostly blank after that. He’d resigned himself, taking a large, slow inhale while the Fire Lord mocked him with an easy smile and relaxed stance. And he’d sucked all the air out of the room.
That was the part that he wanted to forget. And that was the part he was seeing when his eyes gazed out toward the waters and beauty of Caldera.
He yelled, frustrated, and opened his glider.
Aang needed to leave. He needed solitary meditation and a chance to find his own peace. Tomorrow was the crowning of the Fire Lord, and their planned international peace summit. Then, he’d be gone.
—
Ursa sighed as she looked down at a desk, completely overladen with papers half-hazzardly stacked and barely organized. She pinched the bridge of her nose and lit another candle. The moon wasn’t nearly full enough to help her tonight, and she wasn’t going to sleep until she’d made a bit more progress.
One of her advisors sat in the corner, at his own, smaller desk, thumbing through correspondence with the leaders that she had carefully cultivated friendships with. If not friendship, she grimaced, then at least trust.
It would be vital for the recovery of her nation that they knew she had been on their side for years, that she and Iroh had been raising the next Fire Lord as best they could, with intentions of peace.
The door opened, and she didn’t look up from her readings. The servants knew to expect her single-minded focus when she was dedicated to a task. For years, she’d been too privileged to realize her own rudeness, and she tried to make up for it now. But still, when her mind was captivated, she found it hard to look up, smile, say thank you, and be doing anything but her task.
Footsteps stopped in front of her desk, and a throat cleared. She tore her eyes from the papers, mildly irritated.
Iroh looked down at her. His hands were folded over his belly, sleeves long and draping. He looked older. And tired. And sad.
They’d won a battle, and despite what they were telling everyone else in the world, they both knew that the war was still Ozai’s. They had a lot of work to do before they could claim victory.
“You should rest,” he said softly. She sighed.
“No, I should finish this reading while I’m in the middle of it. Did you bring tea?”
He shook his head, a small smile on his lips, in on the joke.
“Just company and wisdom from an old man.”
“You’re only ten years older than me, brother ,” she teased, pushing her papers away.
“Time has been kind to you,” he said. Iroh found a chair nearby and sank into it with a groan. “I need a vacation.”
“Well, put in a request. We can approve one for, hmm, two, three years from now?”
They laughed, and the advisor stood and bowed goodnight to them. He brought his papers. Ursa smirked, thinking he was just escaping to a quieter space.
“If you aren’t going to rest,” Iroh, said, “how about a game of Pai Sho?”
“I can’t, Iroh. I’m surprised you aren’t equally as busy.”
“I am. I just have firmer boundaries on my own time, for my health.”
Ursa put the papers down and called for a servant. She ordered tea, strong green tea, and Iroh chuckled.
They sat across from each other.
“He’s so young, still,” she said, needing no further introduction.
“Yes. But he has accepted his role, and his destiny.”
“There are things we can do. He can have time.”
“I’m sure he’d like some time, but too much and he will be forever stunted. After all, he was banished at thirteen. While we spent the last four years traveling and hunting the Avatar, he has not learned anything of court etiquette, politics, history, or any of the other topics he needs to know. I worry about this.”
“I worry about him, too, Iroh, but I’m more worried about my son as a human. Who will he be if he’s thrust into this impossible role?”
“He’ll have us as support.”
She scoffed. “You, who’s ready to take a vacation and already claiming to be too old for most things. And me, who he hates and won’t talk to.”
Iroh softened. “He doesn’t hate you. He is working through complicated feelings. You left, and while it was for a good reason, and perhaps he will never fully understand that, it hurt him. He was vulnerable and in the charge of a dishonorable, selfish man.” Iroh’s voice quivered with emotion, and he wiped at a tear in the corner of his eye. “I love my brother. I will always think of him as who he was as a child. When he was brave and foolish and arrogant but still kind and silly and playful. I wish I had spent more time with him. Had been a better friend. But our age gap–only ten years, you say, as if it’s nothing–was too much. When he was six, I was serving in the military. When he was ten I was becoming a father.”
Their tea came in, and they sat in silence for a few minutes, until they were alone again.
“I love my children,” Ursa said. “I love them, and I…”
“Have you seen Azula?”
“I can’t. Not yet. I will.”
Iroh nodded, drinking from his cup. “The war has failed many of us. It has forced our young men and women into thinking they are superior beings, that others are less valuable, less worthy, less . We have altered our way of being, so that everything is an exchange. I’ve learned a lot about the world in my travels. Did you know there are still places where they take care of each other, as a community, without a thought of money or price or value? I heard from Chief Hakoda that when he was a boy, he and the others would wish fishermen luck as they set out, and if the fishermen were lucky, they’d share their catch as a thank you. Extras weren’t hoarded. The line of mine and yours was blurred and unimportant.”
“You’re rambling. It’s late.”
“True. I mean to say, Azula and Zuko and countless others have suffered, even within our great nation, thanks to this war and it’s propaganda. I hope we can help them both. But we might never know the extent of the damage.”
“I already know we have an impossible task in front of us. I just…I want to help my son. Can I be selfish like that, now? After all these years?”
Iroh sipped at his tea thoughtfully.
“Maybe you can.”
—
Katara couldn’t believe that today was the day.
She and her tribe dressed together in a large room, laughing and singing and dancing between layers of fur and cloth. She braided her father’s and brother’s hair, weaving stories and meaning through their thick locks and placing one of her only two beads on each head. She was with them, now and forever, and they could take these beads with them to remember.
When she was finally ready, she snuck out before their procession and made her way through the enormous palace hallways until she found Zuko’s room. She blushed, but knocked anyways, stomach anxious when he called out, “Come in.”
As soon as Zuko saw her, his face melted from scowl to smile. It made her melt, too. She walked over quickly, and he stood from where he’d been sitting, and they met in the middle of the room.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. They stood, swaying slightly, embracing tightly, as if they couldn’t get close enough. She smelled him, smoke and salt and oranges, and sighed into his neck.
He held her closer.
“I’m going to ruin your robes,” she laughed, pulling back. She kept her hands on his arms as she appraised his outfit.
He looked regal. Important. Handsome.
She swallowed, feeling tears come on.
“I can’t believe we did it,” she whispered.
“It’s over,” he confirmed, cupping her cheek and wiping a stray tear with his thumb. “The world is free, now.”
She sniffed, and hugged him again, crumpled robes be damned.
“My mom came to see me this morning,” he said into her hair. She wanted to pull back and look at him, but he held her tight. She gave in, sinking into his arms and resting her head on his chest.
“What did she say?”
“She said…That I could decide to not be Fire Lord. Not right away.”
Katara did pull away. With a small gasp, and stepped back and searched his expression. “What?”
He shrugged. “She said that, since she was married to the Fire Lord, that she could take over until I decided I was ready. That I would be her heir, and whenever I decided to take control she would abdicate for me.”
“So…”
“I could be free, too. For a little while.” He looked away, walking toward a balcony overlooking the royal family gardens. Katara followed, enjoying the cooling breeze from outside. “Uncle was there, too. He said I shouldn’t be gone for too long, that I should stay and learn about the role and take responsibilities on slowly, until I felt ready.”
“What do you want to do?”
He laughed. “I don’t know. I want to be Fire Lord. Eventually.” He eyed her. “But I also want to see the South Pole. And spend time with my friends. And…”
She linked her hand in his. “You are officially invited to the South Pole, any time you want to come. I’m sure Gran Gran is excited to have a long, serious chat with you about your manners…”
The color drained from his face, and she laughed, kissing his cheek. “I mean it, Zuko. I’d love for you to come to the South, to see my home.”
“What do you want to do? Now that the war is over?”
She hummed thoughtfully and leaned on the railing. “It’s hard to say. I haven’t really let myself imagine the end of the war. I want to go home, and see Gran Gran and the others. I want to spend some time with my dad. I want to help rebuild our home and, if there are any new southern waterbenders that pop up in the next few years, I want to be there to train them.” She grinned. “That might be five or six years in the future, though.”
Zuko looked like he was going to say something, and so she waited. She’d learned that, often, he needed time and space to articulate his thoughts. She wanted to hear them. So she looked down at the garden where he’d spent his youth meeting turtle ducks and picking herbs and reading and playing with Azula.
“I…Once I become Fire Lord, I’ll be tied to this place.” She turned, giving him her full attention. He seemed tense, and she tried to reach out and soften him.
“I won’t be able to travel much, and when I do it’ll be for official business. My grandfather never left. And I don’t think my Father did, either. Not once he was Fire Lord. I’ll be more flexible, because I’ll be trying to make peace, not war. But…I wouldn’t be upset if I had a partner who traveled, who left. As long as they came back.”
He wasn’t making eye contact. He was staring at the ground by her feet. And while the Water Tribe part of her was bothered, she knew that his Fire Nation life had told him that eye contact was a challenge. It meant they were at the same station. If he was looking down, it wasn’t because he wanted to avoid her. It was because he was saying she was better than him.
There were a lot of things she hated about the Fire Nation.
But a lot that she loved, too.
She took his hand again, and held it between both of hers. She kissed his knuckles and smiled softly at his slight gasp.
“We both have a lot of work to do, in our futures,” she murmured. “You are going to do huge, amazing things for the world. And I hope I can help. I want to do as much as I can for my people. For all people.” She blushed again, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know what that will look like. But right now, there is nowhere I’d rather be. And…” she smiled slyly, eyes flicking up to catch his, “I think what I really want is to spend some time with you, without a war, without training, without all of this. Just for a little while. The rest of that work can wait.”
She stood on tiptoes to put her face before his. They were centimeters apart. His eyes were dark and stormy, and it shocked her to the core, suddenly hit with waves of love and desire and adoration and understanding and fear. She didn’t close the space. Instead, she breathed in and out deeply, mixing their breath and mixing them. He touched their foreheads together, not breaking eye contact, and followed her lead.
Finally, she broke the spell.
“You should probably ask my dad to officially start courting me,” she teased.
Zuko’s ears turned red, and he was clearly fighting to keep his smile off his face. “Are you serious? You? You want me to ask someone else for permission?”
She laughed. “Not permission. But…acknowledgement. Approval.” She winked. “Something tells me he’ll be glad to give it.”
This time, when they leaned toward each other, their lips met.
“I love you, Katara,” he breathed against her neck.
“I love you, Zuko,” she replied, hands running through his hair, heart pounding in her chest.
The future spread out before them, and she found herself with more hope than she could have dreamed. Hope for them, for the world, for their friends and families. For happiness and family and a better tomorrow. And she'd be fighting for that tomorrow with Zuko at her side. Sure, she needed to sort out her feelings about the end of the war. And Zuko had a lot on his plate, even with the unexpected rest period his mom and uncle were offering him. He had grief, and loss, and pain to work through. Just like her.
But they would do it, together.