Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

               “Izumi,” Zuko whispered his daughter’s name with a divine reverence, his eyes scarcely having once left her face since she was born in the early hours of the morning that day. The sun was setting now, and the Fire Lord had finally convinced his wife to rest. While Mai slept in their large bed, limbs tangled in the messy sheets, Zuko was sitting on the balcony just off their room, cradling the newborn princess in his arms as the warm evening breeze caressed their faces.

               Zuko had always been terrified of the prospect of fatherhood – truthfully, he was still scared, but the second he laid eyes on his baby girl, the love and devotion that flooded him temporarily drowned out all fears and anxieties.

               “I love you,” he whispered softly, barely making a sound. He didn’t dare interrupt Izumi’s currently peaceful slumber, but he also felt that if he didn’t vocalize some of his emotions in the moment he just might burst.

               “I’ll always protect you,” he continued, softly stroking her chubby cheek before outlining the perimeters of her face with a feather-light touch. Zuko smiled fondly, noting that her nose and chin bore a striking resemblance to her mother’s. He then marveled at the wispy eyelashes that seemed to gently kiss her cheeks with her lids closed.

               “And I promise,” Zuko whispered, “I will never hurt you…” he absentmindedly stroked the outer corner of her left eye, thumb lingering on her temple. His breath caught when her eyes blinked open, and he saw brilliantly gold irises staring up at him. There was a moment of pure bliss before her face twisted into a disgruntled expression, and she started to cry.

               “Oh, shhh…” Zuko comforted her, lifting her gently to rest against his chest. He couldn’t even finish his thought of hoping Mai wouldn’t wake up when his wife appeared beside him.

               “I can take her,” Mai’s voice was ever-so-slightly hoarse, but soft at the same time.

               “Go back to sleep,” Zuko insisted, standing up and beginning to slowly pace, hoping the movement would calm the baby, “You’ve been taking care of her for nine months straight, the least I could do is give you a break for a few hours.” Mai smiled affectionately at that, and kissed him on the cheek, reaching her arms out anyway.

               “She might be hungry,” Mai said, stroking Izumi’s soft dark hair before tenderly taking her from Zuko’s embrace, “And besides…I missed her.” Zuko wrapped his now empty arms around them both, resting his chin on Mai’s shoulder. Izumi’s cries had quieted slightly, but she was still fussy.

               “Let’s go inside,” Mai cooed after a moment. As they stepped back into the room, Zuko watched from the threshold of the balcony. Mai sat onto the edge of the bed and deftly shrugged an arm out of its sleeve, all while keeping Izumi perfectly balanced in her other arm. It seemed Mai’s instinct was right, because as soon as she latched, Izumi’s fussing stopped completely.

               “How are you already so good at this?” Zuko mused, softly closing the balcony doors behind him before joining Mai on the bed. She smiled, looking up at him briefly before returning her gaze to her daughter.

               “I learned a lot from helping mom when Tom-Tom was born,” she replied, “But I definitely don’t know everything. Everyone kept telling me, as soon as the baby came, I wouldn’t be so worried about screwing up, that my ‘mother’s instinct’ would kick in.” She let out a sarcastic chuckle before continuing:

               “But from the second we heard her first cry,” Mai sighed, shaking her head slightly, “I’m even more afraid of doing something wrong.”

               “Do I even have to tell you I feel the same way?” Zuko responded, letting out a breathless chuckle of his own, “I’ve been terrified since you told me you were pregnant. But now?” He trailed off, finishing his statement with an exasperated sigh and a shake of his head. The couple were quiet for another moment, eyes trained onto Izumi. They watched as her nursing began to slow and her lids drooped lazily closed. Soon, she was fast asleep once more. When Mai moved to replace her currently discarded sleeve, Zuko wordlessly took the baby back into his arms. As he paced slowly across the room, Mai sidled up beside him, placing a delicate hand on top of Izumi’s head to stroke her hair again.

               A soft knock at the door brought them out of their spell, and they tensed for a moment, holding their breath as they watched Izumi’s face for any sign she might stir. When her eyes remained closed, Mai released a soft sigh, gently opening the door to see who it was.

               “Mai,” Iroh’s voice floated from the threshold, “What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting.” Mai smiled affectionately, opening the door wider to allow him inside. She also let him envelop her in a strong hug before he laid eyes on his nephew.

               “Uncle,” Zuko smiled, eyes briefly meeting Iroh’s watery gaze.

               “I came as soon as I received the news,” Iroh said, approaching the young father eagerly, but with his steps landing softly, “As quickly as I could.”

               “You made great time,” Zuko replied, “She’s barely eighteen hours old.” Iroh chuckled through his tears.

               “She?” he asked, “A princess. What a joyous blessing.”

               “Would you like to meet her?” Zuko asked quietly, his own vision beginning to blur with tears. Every moment of this day so far had felt like the happiest in his life, and this one was no exception. Iroh nodded silently, holding his arms out in preparation. Zuko gently laid his daughter into his Uncle’s waiting embrace.

               “Izumi,” he whispered, “This is Uncle Iroh.”

               “Izumi,” Iroh repeated reverently, “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” After a moment, his loving gaze turned back to Zuko.

               “I am so proud of you, nephew,” he said with a thick voice, “And the devoted father I know you will be.”

               Zuko’s tears began to fall, and he felt Mai at his side, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back before turning to plant a kiss on her cheek. He faintly tasted salt, and realized she had a few of her own tears trailing down her face.

               “Rest, love,” Zuko whispered to her, and Mai simply nodded before returning to the bed. Zuko led Iroh out onto the balcony, now lit by the moon that was high in the sky. As Zuko shut the doors behind them, Iroh sat gently upon one of the chairs, careful not to disturb Izumi too much. Zuko watched on, his heart swelling with love.

               “Uncle,” he asked abruptly, breaking the pleasant silence, “How are you so sure I’ll be a good father?” Iroh smiled fondly, and nodded to the empty chair next to him. It seemed he had been waiting for his nephew to ask this question. Zuko took the seat that had been offered to him.

               “The simple answer is because you’re a good man,” Iroh replied, keeping his voice low, “And it’s very easy to see just how much you love your daughter already.”

               “But, is that enough?” Zuko asked tentatively. He was unsure how to continue, but he could tell by his uncle’s expression that Iroh knew everything that remained unspoken.

               “You are not doomed to follow in your own father’s footsteps,” Iroh reassured him, “That is something I am completely confident of. I know you will do better, because you want to do better.”

               Zuko simply nodded, still not fully convinced.

               “You are not alone in this, Zuko,” Iroh continued, “While it is always best to believe in one’s self, a little help from others can be a great blessing. I believe in you, your wife believes in you, and this little one believes in you, too.” Iroh accented his last point by handing Izumi to Zuko. Zuko took her easily, briefly marveling at how natural it already felt to cradle her in his arms.

               “Thank you, Uncle,” Zuko finally spoke, “For everything. Ozai may have set a terrible example, but…” Zuko’s eyes shone as he continued:

               “You have shown me what it truly means to be a father.” Iroh stood up, shedding one final, joyful tear before gently squeezing his nephew’s shoulder. He then leaned down to place a delicate kiss on the sleeping princess’s forehead.

               “Thank you, my nephew, for this incredible gift,” Iroh whispered, “I will let you all get your rest now. It’s been a big day.” Zuko smiled after his uncle, and stepped inside to gently close the bedroom’s door behind him as he left. He listened to the sound of Mai’s steady breathing for a moment, only to be interrupted when he let out a dramatic yawn. He strode slowly over to the bassinet that was set up at the foot of their bed and gently lowered Izumi into it. He stayed there for a moment once she was settled in, and simply stared at her.

               “I’ll do whatever it takes to be the best father I can be,” Zuko whispered to her, “Every day for the rest of my life.” As if she heard him, and understood, Izumi softly cooed in her sleep. Zuko pressed a gentle kiss to her nose before falling into his own bed. In the few brief moments before sleep found him, Zuko considered his uncle’s words – he was still nervous about failing as a father, and supposed he always would be; but, no one around him was writing him off as a failure before he began – something he still wasn’t entirely used to. He was determined to prove himself, but rather than out of spite, it was out of the confidence that had been instilled in him.

               His train of thought was interrupted by Mai turning over in her sleep, and instinctually pulling him closer with the arm that had landed on top of his waist. Zuko wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

               “We’re gonna be good parents,” he murmured into her hair, saying it for himself just as much as for her. Surrounded by the warmth of his wife, and his love for their daughter, he slept, his mind finding peace.

Chapter Text

               The first time Aang held his son, he was speechless. For years he had been dreaming of and eagerly anticipating the day he would become a father, but nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelm of the moment. He could faintly make out the sounds of the room around him – Katara sobbing gleefully, the midwives congratulating them, and the baby’s strong cries. But nothing was louder than the exhilarating rush of his blood pounding in his ears. It was like he was feeling every possible emotion all at once.

               His spell was quickly broken when he heard his wife calling his name.

               “Aang,” Katara beckoned with a teary chuckle, smiling fondly when the avatar abruptly whipped his head around to look at her. He offered a breathless laugh in return.

               “Katara,” he managed to choke out, “He’s…”

               “I know,” she responded, nodding rapidly, “Bring him here.” Aang obliged, walking over to the chair she now sat in. He realized he must have been transfixed for longer than he’d thought, as the midwives had time to lift Katara from the water bath she’d given birth in, dry her off, and outfit her in a plush robe before leading her to her seat. The waterbender held out her arms, and Aang delicately passed their squirming baby to her, his eyes never once leaving the boy’s face.

               “Oh, Aang,” Katara gasped, new tears falling, “He’s perfect.”

               “He is,” Aang agreed, still mesmerized, “He’s everything.”

               As the new parents doted on their son, he began to settle, his once booming cries quieting into soft fussing groans. Katara hummed a soothing tune while Aang smoothed the boy’s thick, wild hair – the first thing either of them saw when he was born. In that moment, Aang chuckled to himself, thinking fondly on his old friend from Omashu. He and Katara had discussed many names for their first child, and for a boy they had settled on Tenzin, in honor of Monk Gyatso. However, the more Aang looked at him, the less he felt like the name fit.

               “He doesn’t seem like a Tenzin, does he?” Katara mused absently, as if she had been listening in on Aang’s thoughts.

               “Not really,” Aang chuckled again, “But you know who he reminds me of?” Katara finally lifted her gaze to her husband, but his eyes stayed fixed on the baby in her arms. Nevertheless, she rose an expectant eyebrow.

               “Bumi,” Aang continued, his voice taking on a warm tone. Katara looked to her son once more, and saw it immediately.

               “Hello, Bumi,” she whispered affectionately, leaning down to kiss his forehead. The touch of her lips seemed to calm him instantly, and the room suddenly felt empty without his tiny voice. The quiet didn’t last for long, though.

               “So?” Toph’s expectant voice came from beyond the door, “What’s the verdict? Boy or girl?” Aang smiled fondly, picturing their friends all eagerly waiting in the hall.

               “A boy,” he replied, his voice breaking with emotion. He cleared his throat before repeating:

               “A boy. I have a son.”

               Their friends’ celebratory cheers faded into the background as Aang watched his son. Bumi was now alert, eyes wide open and searching the air around him. Aang’s breath caught in his throat when their gazes briefly locked. Wide, icy blue eyes met his stormy grey ones, and Aang briefly marveled at how everything about this baby seemed to be a perfect mixture of him and Katara. He wanted to memorize every tiny detail in his son’s face, and resolved to stay exactly where he was indefinitely to do so, until he was startled by his wife’s hand coming gently up to his cheek.

               “Everyone probably wants to meet him,” she said.

               “They can wait,” Aang answered back, not even giving her a chance to continue speaking if she had planned to, “I don’t want to leave him.” Katara chuckled lovingly in response, heart swelling as she observed the reverence with which her husband gazed upon their son. It reminded her of when he’d first opened his eyes all those years ago upon emerging from the iceberg – a bright-eyed look filled with wonder, hope, and excitement.

               The couple’s blissful bubble was burst when a midwife made the mistake of opening the door to haul out the soiled towels and blankets – their friends didn’t even give her a chance to cross the threshold before they clumsily tumbled into the room, each one trying to be the first to get a glance of the newborn.

               “Quit pushing,” Sokka cried indignantly, “He’s my nephew after all.”

               “Oh, shut it, Snoozles,” Toph shot back, “Like the kid won’t be calling us all Auntie and Uncle.”

               “You’ll all get your turn,” Katara replied, not even trying to feign annoyance. Her smile was still far too brilliant, and spread throughout the group as if it was contagious.

               “Wow,” Sokka’s voice was suddenly much gentler than before, “He’s so…tiny.” The warrior approached cautiously, extending a timid finger to stroke the baby’s cheek. Bumi was still squirming a little, and when Sokka’s finger pressed into his palm, he gripped it with all his tiny might.

               “Hey, kiddo,” Sokka giggled, not even caring that a tear had fallen from the tip of his nose, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

               “What’s his name?” Suki asked, now standing just behind Sokka with her own admiring gaze coming from over his shoulder.

               “Bumi,” Aang answered, his voice filled with pride and love and a million other things he couldn’t quite name at the moment.

               “Hey, Bumi,” Suki cooed softly.

               “Can I hold him?” Toph’s voice floated from a few feet away, with a much more tender tone than usual. Katara’s smile stayed as her heart swelled once more.

               “Of course, Toph,” she replied, as if asking the question was silly simply because they all knew the answer. Katara made like she was going to stand, but Aang held her in her seat with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

               “Relax; I’ve got it,” he said, scooping his son into his arms once more. He strode slowly to his friend, wanting to savor the moment endlessly. He arrived to Toph much quicker than he’d admittedly wanted to.

               “Hold out your arms,” Aang whispered, and the earthbender obliged. Once Toph had shaped her forearms and hands into a cradle, the avatar gently passed the baby to her.

               “He is tiny,” was the first remark she made upon feeling the newborn’s weight in her arms, “Judging by how heavy Sugar Queen’s steps were these past few weeks, I was definitely expecting this kid to be bigger.” Sokka let out a snort at that comment, and Katara was too deliriously happy to take any offense or bite back with a remark of her own.

               “Good work, you two,” Toph said after a moment. Her voice was a little thick, and a small sniffle betrayed her.

               “Toph, are you crying?” Sokka asked, ever-so-slightly teasing her.

               “Yes, damn it, and I know you were too,” she retorted, “The occasion calls for it.” The friends shared a watery laugh before Bumi brought all attention back to him with a loud wail.

               “Come to mama,” Katara cooed, crossing to where Toph stood and lifting the baby from her arms. She began shushing him softly.

               “I think someone’s hungry,” one of the midwives chimed in as she entered the room, likely summoned by the sounds of the newborn’s cries. She made her way to Katara’s side and began to talk her through breastfeeding for the first time.

               “I think that’s our cue to leave,” Sokka said awkwardly, “We’ll be just downstairs if you need anything. Want me to send the news out to anyone?”

               “Just family for now,” Aang replied, following his friends to the doorway. Sokka knew what – and who – he meant by that, and answered with a smile and a clap on Aang’s back before heading out the door.

               After closing the door, Aang lingered there for a moment, watching in amazement as Katara seemed to follow every instruction the midwife gave her with graceful ease. He wondered if parenting was just something one is naturally good at, or if it’s learned by example from watching one’s own parents. Either way, insecurities started to tug at the edges of Aang’s thoughts. He never had a mom and dad, but rather was raised by the monks like all other airbenders at the temple. Monk Gyatso was the closest thing he’d had to a father, but his memories of the man were limited, and he wasn’t around to offer guidance or answer any questions Aang may have.

               Suddenly, Aang wasn’t sure if he was ready at all for fatherhood.

               “Aang?” Katara called softly, bringing her husband out of his thoughts, “Is everything okay?” Aang smiled warmly, grateful for the fact that she could always seem to tell when something was bothering him, and that he knew he could confide in her about whatever it may be.

               “It’s just all so real now,” Aang started, “He’s here. We’re really parents.”

               “I know,” Katara agreed, turning her gaze back to their son, “It’s…amazing.”

               “…Terrifying,” Aang had interjected at the same time.

               “That too,” she giggled before adopting a more thoughtful tone, “How are you feeling?” Before responding, Aang sighed as he walked over to take a seat beside her. At this point, Bumi was done nursing and had fallen asleep, and the midwives had stepped out of the room.

               “So many different things…it’s hard to pin one down,” he started, “I mean, this is one of the greatest days of my life, obviously. I’m overjoyed! But, I’m also…worried, I guess? I’m not sure that I’ll even be any good at this whole ‘dad’ thing.”

               “Why do you say that?” Katara asked, her tone curious.

               “I don’t know the first thing about being a dad,” he explained, “It’s not like I had my own that I could look back on for an example, or ask for advice.” Katara nodded silently at first, trying to think of the right thing to respond with.

               “We’ll just have to figure out together what it means to be a dad, and a mom,” she finally spoke after a moment, “As much as I wish she were, my mom isn’t here anymore for me to turn to. It’s up to us to work it out on our own.” Aang offered her a small, sad smile.

               “She’d be so proud of you, Katara,” he said softly.

               “So I’m told,” Katara smiled back at him lovingly. Aang’s smile grew a little wider before he planted a soft kiss to his wife’s cheek.

               “As long as we’re in this together,” Katara continued, “We’ll be okay. I’ll help you be a dad, and you’ll help me be a mom.”

               “Sounds like a plan,” Aang responded. His wife still felt like he needed a little extra confidence, so she passed their son to him before she spoke again.

               “How do you feel when you look at Bumi?” she asked quietly, resting a hand on Aang’s shoulder. The avatar took a deep breath.

               “Pride. Happiness. Honestly, a little fear, too – I never want anything to happen to him,” he said, “But most of all love – so much love. I never thought I could love anyone as deeply or intensely as I love you, and our friends, but this…this is something so different. I feel like I’ve already loved him my whole life. And I feel like everything I do from now on will be for him.”

               “Being a parent is about loving your child unconditionally, wanting the best for them, wanting to protect them and keep them safe,” Katara responded, “So Aang, it sounds like you’re already a pretty great father.”

               Aang’s cheeks flushed slightly as he beamed, first at his wife, then back down at his sleeping boy. There might be a whole lot of other things they’d need to figure out along the way, but right now, he felt confident that they could take it all in stride.

               “You hear that, buddy?” Aang whispered, “Your mom thinks I’m a good dad. I hope that I prove her right…I promise I’ll do my very best to.”