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Chapter Text

The pale moon flowers twisted around the balcony handrail, their sickly glow disrupting the calm yellows and browns of the Air Temple.

Katara sighed, staring into the night. She had suggested the flowers, hoping for a touch of control in the rushed chaos of planning the wedding. But Hana, their diligent wedding planner, was right: they really didn’t make sense.

She pulled away from the balcony, forcing herself  to not dwell on the alien flowers any longer. 

It puzzled her, the whole ordeal—how a moment so monumental could feel so fleeting. The proposal had come right after Zuko's coronation, Aang kneeling before her with a clumsy, almost grotesque water tribe pendant in hand. She smiled back at him, her heart swelling with the love she had always felt.

This was what she wanted. 

Peace.

Yet, even in this moment of joy, a storm of anger brewed within her. The fat, wet kiss he planted on her lips, followed by the clumsy act of tying the pendant around her neck, ignited a fire she couldn’t quite explain. 

She’s angrier than ever, and she doesn’t know why.

You’re angry at yourself. A voice echoed in her mind, a relentless reminder: yourself.

She loved Aang—always had. His childlike humor, the hope and peace he embodied. But this wedding, so rushed and haphazard, felt like a transition from one endless limbo to another, like she was stepping into a future that wasn’t truly hers. 

Her legs moved on autopilot back to the room where her bridesmaids anxiously awaited. Each step felt heavy, as if the flowers lining the hallways could echo her doubts.

Knocking on the plain wooden door, marked only by an engraved Air Nation symbol, she was greeted by a scowling girl with dark hair. 

“Took you long enough, Sweetness.” The black haired girl grumbled, but her eye brow furrowed slightly in a concerned fashion, in a way one who didn’t know her for many years would have failed to see. 

Katara flushed and opened her mouth to respond, but another bridesmaid grabbed her by the wrist. 

“Katara,” she said, firm yet loving. “I’d do anything for you, but what’s going on? This isn’t like you. You’re late.”

It wasn’t necessarily true, the wedding wasn’t for another two days, but the girls had planned numerous pampering activities, all of which the bride missed. 

Katara shrugged and waved her hand nonchalantly, “Just tired. Wedding planning is exhausting, you know.”

Suki arched an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Katara, you have a wedding planner.”

Katara shrugged dismissively at the girl and turned her gaze to the empty room around them, feeling a knot of slight discomfort twist in her stomach. How could she—a self proclaimed feminist and fighter of sexism—have only two close female friends? It felt pathetic, a contradiction that gnawed and nestled its way to the shoulder of the rest of the messy contradictions inside her.

She sighed again, plucking an apple bush berry and popping it into her mouth, her thoughts swirling with frustration. Suki and Toph exchanged worried glances, their concern palpable in the dim candle light of the room.

“You know,” Suki finally said, her voice gentle but firm, “this isn’t like you, Katara.”

A tight ball of anger ignited within her, melting away the icy regret she’d been building. “Mind your own business,” she bit, her tone sharp and stinging.

Toph raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “We’re just concerned for you, that’s all. No need to get snappy.”

Suki stepped closer, her expression earnest but exhausted. “We want what’s best for you, but it feels like you’re not thinking clearly. This isn’t who you are.”

Katara scoffed, spinning to face them. “What part of ‘mind your own business’ don’t you fucking understand?”

Both girls fell silent, their mouths slightly agape, taken aback by the fierceness of her words.

Abruptly, Toph laughed short and rough. 

“Spirits, Sweetness, you’re starting to sound like Zuko” 

That remark struck a nerve Katara didn’t know she had. She let out a frustrated groan, Katara stormed away, her footsteps heavy against the ground. 

As she passed, the delicate moon flowers lining the hallways wilted next her, their pale colors fading to an evermore dull, lifeless hue as she subconsciously drained them of water.

She couldn’t even bring herself to care.

Chapter Text

After sulking through the unfamiliar corridors, Katara finally returned to the modest room she shared with her fiancé. The space was simple, dominated by a king-sized bed dressed in pale yellow and pale orange sheets that reflected the classic Air Nation designs. Yet, despite its beauty, she felt a profound emptiness.

As she sank onto the edge of the bed, longing washed over her—a longing for the thick tiger seal duvets and fur coverings of the Southern Water Tribe. 

Here, in this airy, bright room, she felt stripped of the warmth and familiarity of home. It wasn’t that she was unfamiliar with being away; she had traveled far and wide in her short life, but on her wedding day, the absence of her tribe, her father, her home felt almost treacherous.

A sharp ache settled in her chest, a pain she feared might linger long after the celebrations were over. 

She grit her teeth and slid out of her pale red silk robes, the fabric whispering against her skin as she changed into an ivory slip that glimmered like moonlight. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, wishing the weight in her heart would lift with it.

Aang was still absent, and while she was grateful to avoid the emotional tension that seemed to hover between them in the days leading up to their wedding, she couldn’t shake the need for connection. She longed to speak to her best friend. 

A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts. She moved to the door and cracked it open. A short, curvy older woman stood before her, her short black hair speckled with gray and her large brown eyes warm and inviting.

“Master Katara,” the woman bowed respectfully. Katara returned the gesture, puzzled.

“Your presence is being called for in the grand hall.”

“At this hour?” Katara asked, her brow furrowing.

The woman shrugged and turned briskly, leading her down the hallway across the building.

The grand hall was the most impressive room in the building, its walls adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of hope and love.

Wind chimes sang softly, creating a gentle melody that filled the air. Suddenly, the song grew louder, the wind swirling with more purpose.

Petals cascaded down from the ceiling, and a young boy in soft yellow silk robes, wearing a lopsided smile, floated down, a rose clenched in his mouth. Just as Katara was about to speak, the boy caught her off guard, lifting her off her feet with a gentle breeze and wrapping her in his arms.

“Katara, my forever girl, one last dance before our destinies intertwine and our souls merge,” he declared, his charm evident, though the gravity of his words felt somewhat childish.

She gave him a gentle smile and kissed his cheek softly, “It’s so late Aang, we have a big day tomorrow.” 

He pouted, rolling his eyes. “Please, Katara,” he stretched her name out like a plea.

A pang of guilt twisted in her chest. She could see the hopeful light in his eyes, and it gnawed at her resolve. “Fine, for old times’ sake.”

The joy that erupted on his face almost made her inner turmoil fade, almost.

They bowed to each other, stepping left and right, sliding back and forth, twirling and diving. For a moment, it felt like old times—dancing in a dark cave, with the world on the brink of destruction, yet they had each other.

But as the dance slowed and the wind chimes quieted, reality crashed back in. They weren’t in that cave anymore; that they weren’t on the run. That she was about to be tied to this boy for the rest of her life, reduced to nothing more than the wife of the Avatar, a mother to his children. Stuck in an inevitably unhappy, boring marriage. 

A flame of anger flickered in her chest, and she quickly avoided his gaze. “We really should get to bed.”

Her voice came out colder than she intended, and she felt an icy chill settle between them.

Aang studied her, his expression shifting from playful to concerned. He wordlessly nodded, his grin fading as he turned back toward the hallway she just came from.

She loved Aang—she truly did. But the thought of living this life, of being defined solely as the “Avatar’s girl,” felt suffocating. She was the last Southern Water Tribe waterbender, the one who had defeated Azula in hand-to-hand combat. She had traveled the world, not just with the Avatar, but with herself and alongside her friends.

She risked everything for a better future; she wasn’t going to throw it all away. 

The duo stepped into the room they shared, and they climbed into the unfamiliar bed, the girl trying not to dream about the days ahead of them. 

“Katara,” Aang twisted himself in the sheets to look at the waterbender, “Do you not want to get married.” 

Her stomach dropped, she felt a lump form in her throat. 

“Well,” she started, conflict building inside of her, unsure of whether to lie or break his heart.

He turned to face away from her, her hesitation gave him the answer he needed. 

“I love you Aang, you’re my best friend and you’re kind and honest,” he perked up a little at that, shifted to face her once again, his facial features a mixture of hope and fear. 

“I’m just not ready.” 

The words tumbled out, fleeting, terrified. She felt sick, the fiery anger inside of her was dim, but the icy guilt was so cold it burnt.

“But you said yes,” he replied, hurt lacing his voice, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Aang please.” But she wasn’t sure what she was asking for, for him to stop crying? For him to stop loving her? 

“Katara you can’t do this to me. After all we have been through, after everything, you can’t do this to me.” 

The girl reached her hand towards the boy, tangled in the same bed as her. He recoiled as if she burnt him. 

“You can’t do this to me,” he repeated, firm, “This isn’t like you.” 

She considered going back, to the mundane, to the comfortable, boring, quiet life that being with Aang promises.

She hates herself for even thinking about it. 

So she shakes her head, “I’m sorry Aang, please try and understand.” 

He was scrambling out of their bed now, “What is there to not understand? You just don’t love me!” His voice trembled. 

She copied his motion of pushing off the foreign covers, “I do Aang,” she was practically begging now, “Aang I really do love you I just-” 

She couldn’t find the words. 

He stared at her, expecting something, a reason, a shout. 

“I just can’t be your wife.” 

“Why not,” he whispered, angrily, hurt, fearful. 

“Because it’s not who I am,” her voice was slightly softer now, “It’s not who I want to be!” 

“Why not,” he demanded angrily, throwing his hands in the air, involuntarily blowing papers off the desk in the corner. 

“I can’t live like this! In a strange place, with people who only know me as the Avatar’s wife! I’m more than that!” Her voice broke, anger igniting within her.

“Spirits, Aang, you asked me to marry you the moment peace returned! What was I supposed to do? I haven’t even lived yet, and now you want to take that away again!”

Aang glared at her, his own fire burning inside him, “Fine.” 

“Fine?” She scoffed, “Aang that’s really all you have to say?” 

“I’m sorry i’m so suffocating!” he shouted, wind swirling around him, papers flying off the desk.

“I’m sorry it’s so hard to be with me! I’m sorry that I’m such a bad person I didn’t even notice how unhappy you were! Wait a minute,” He laughed joylessly, “Maybe that’s because you didn’t tell me.” 

He took a deep, long breath and the papers around the room dropped and in one motion he turned around and walked out the door. 

Katara fell to her knees, sobbing violently into her hands. Guilt felt like it was consuming her. She had to ruin the one good thing she had. 

She ripped the ugly pendant Aang gave her off and stared at it, tears streaming down her cheeks as she collapsed into her arms once more. 

She cried, throat sore and eyes burning. She cried until she felt numb, the fiery anger in her chest dimming, leaving behind only icy guilt. But beneath that, a very, very small spark of relief emerged.

Like she was once carrying the world and now nothing at all. 

And with that she stood up, surveyed the damage the couple had done, and packed her bags. 

Chapter Text

The note Katara wrote to Aang turned out to be much longer than she had planned. But she needed to say it all: yes, she loved him, no, she would not marry him, no, it wasn’t his fault, and yes, she was going back to the Southern Water Tribe.

She tied the scroll tightly with the betrothal necklace Aang had carved for her. She’d taken her time writing the letter, packing her few belongings with great care, as if some part of her still expected Aang to return and have one last conversation, one last chance to make sense of everything.

But, in typical Aang fashion, he was nowhere to be found.

Sighing, Katara gently placed the scroll on his bedside table, her fingers lingering for a moment before she secured her mother’s necklace around her neck for the first time since the war ended. 

As she walked out of the room, she was met by Toph, who was storming toward her with Suki at her heels. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Toph demanded, her face twisted into a frustrated frown.

Katara stared, her voice flat. “I’m leaving. Don’t try to stop me.”

Toph rolled her eyes, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, we can see that, Sweetness.”

Suki stepped forward, voice calm  but angry, “Katara, were you really just going to leave us without saying anything?”

Katara turned away, her heart heavy as she spoke. “I can’t stay here—not with Aang, and not at these temples. I just... I can’t do it anymore.”

Suki’s hand gently gripped Katara’s shoulder. “Obviously you can’t, Katara.” Her expression softened. “You don’t love him, and he deserves someone who does. And... that’s okay, people grow apart.”

Katara blinked, “You knew?” she asked, her mouth falling open in surprise. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Toph let out a short laugh, crossing her arms. “It’s not really our business, is it?”

Katara pressed her palms to her face, the weight of the decision crashing down on her. “Spirits, where am I even going?”

Toph snorted. “Good question.” Suki, though a little amused, gave Toph a gentle shove.

“Katara, we understand why you’re doing this,” Suki said, her voice softening, “but were you really just going to leave without telling us? Without saying goodbye?”

The icy guilt in Katara’s chest returned, a heavy, cold feeling. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

Suki, sensing her struggle, looked at her and gently smiled. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We don’t care that you don’t want to marry Aang.”

“Yeah we wouldn’t want to either,” Toph giggled, but she too looked a little sad. 

Katara knelt down to the floor, her knees pressing against the cool stone. Without hesitation, Toph and Suki followed her, sitting down beside her.

“It’s just so hard,” Katara whispered, her voice breaking as the weight of everything she was leaving behind became overwhelming.

Toph nodded, “Yeah. It will be hard. Probably for a long time.”

Katara gave her a dry look. “Thanks, Toph. That really makes me feel so much better.”

Toph shrugged, unfazed. “Just listen, Katara. I’m blind, and even I could see that your marriage with him wouldn’t last. If you stayed, you’d both end up miserable.”

Katara fell silent, mulling over Toph’s blunt yet surprisingly kind words. After a moment, she looked up at her. “Thank you, Toph, I needed to hear that.” 

Toph snorted and punched her on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head, Sweetness.”

“And don’t think we aren’t still pissed you tried leaving without us,” Suki interjected, “You should know by now you can’t get rid of us that easily.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Katara smiled—a real smile, not forced or weak, but genuine. It was the first real smile she’d had since Zuko’s coronation.

“Thank you, guys,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry I’ve been so...”

“Rude?” 

“Bitchy?” 

“Standoffish?” 

“Antisocial?” 

Katara rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, but there was warmth in her gaze. “I was going to say distant. But sure, whatever works for you.”

The three girls fell into a familiar banter, which ended up with them all giggling, clutching their chests. 

“I missed you guys,” Katara confessed, between giggles.

Suki smiled at her, “Katara, we never left.” 

“What am I gonna do?” She said miserably, “What am I even going to do when I get home.” 

“Whatever you do we support you and love you, no matter where you go, no matter who you marry,” Suki grinned at the water bender, “But, I do suggest you tell Sokka where you’re going. He’s still in our room stressing about his speech.” 

Katara smacked her face with her hand, “Oh my Spirits I forgot about him.” 

Toph laughed hard at that, “Very thoughtful of you.” 

She shot the blind girl a glare and stood up from where the trio was sitting. “I suppose I have to get going.” 

Toph hugged Katara, very quickly and awkwardly, but Katara still beamed from ear to ear. 

“Awwww are you getting soft on me now Beifong?” She teased, but her heart pained leaving the earth bender. 

“Shut up princess,” she spat, and punched her hard in the stomach. 

“Ouch! Fuck off Toph.” But she was still grinning. 

She turned to Suki, “Goodbye Suki, Thank you, for everything.”

Suki smiled back, “You better visit, not just for Sokka.” 

“Of course, keep him out of trouble, will you?” 

Suki rolled her eyes, “I mean, I’ll try.” 

She embraced the warrior one last time, holding onto the comfort of this moment. She would miss it—the sense of belonging, of having a place and people to lean on. 

Reluctantly, she picked up her bags and turned away from the duo, offering a bittersweet wave, her heart heavy with the knowledge that they were all on the verge of a painful goodbye. 

She descended the spiral staircase of the Temple, stepping out into the sharp bite of the evening wind. The air, cold and crisp, rushed into her lungs, easing the ache in her sore throat as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the chill seep through her skin. 

Katara set her bags gently on the ground, next to a twisted, gnarled tree, before walking toward the edge of the cliff. The night stretched wide before her—vast and empty—and her heart felt the same way. She wondered how, exactly, she was supposed to confront Sokka.

She groaned softly, lowering herself onto the cliff's edge, her feet swinging out into the open air. The weight of everything pressing on her chest. She knew Sokka would stand by her, support whatever choice she made, but still, the icy guilt clung to her like a second skin.

"Can't sleep?" came a voice from behind, gravelly yet soft, cutting through the night.

She stiffened, glancing over her shoulder. "Oh, yeah, sorry, I’m just—"

Zuko sat beside her, not waiting for an invitation. "It’s alright, Katara. I, uh, get it."

She nodded, letting her gaze drift over to him. His black hair, which he had started tying back into a small bun after his coronation, was undone and fell over his eyes, longer than it had been at the end of the war. Gone were the elaborate royal robes; in their place was a simple red tunic—almost the same one he'd worn in the war, but embroidered with small gold detailing, more expensive and certainly more fit for a Firelord.

"You should get some sleep," he suggested, giving her an odd look

She shrugged, gaze lingering on the horizon, tracing the hills. 

"You know, big day tomorrow," he said, but the words were distant. Katara caught something in his tone, a bitterness that felt out of place, though she quickly blamed it on the altitude and the late hour.

"Oh," she began, her voice unsure, "me and Aang... we aren’t getting married. I’m going back home."

Zuko didn’t immediately respond. He just stared at her, his golden eyes unreadable, but they seemed almost relieved. "Ah. I see."

A heavy silence fell between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was thick and melancholic. "Good for you?" he added, his voice uncertain, the words clearly not fitting him well.

Katara nodded, her lips tight. "Thank you, Zuko. It’s just too much, you know?"

Zuko’s smile was thin, the skin around his scar crinkling as he chuckled quietly. "Yeah. I get it." He hesitated for a moment. "How did Aang take it?"

Katara snorted softly, the tension in her chest easing for a moment. "I think you can guess."

Zuko’s lips quirked into a brief, almost wistful smile. "Yeah, I bet I can." But then his expression turned more serious. "You didn’t seem happy here, or with him."

She looked up at the moon, its pale light casting a soft glow on the distant hills. "I wasn’t," she murmured, the words coming easier than she'd expected.

“Mai and I broke up, not too long after you and Aang left to plan the wedding." He didn’t seem angry, in fact, he seemed at peace.

Her hand instinctively lifted, wanting to comfort him, but she hesitated, not fully putting her hand against his shoulder. It felt different now than it did during the war. She let her hand fall back into her lap.

He shrugged, unaware of her abandoned gesture. "It was bound to happen. She loved the old me—the angry me. But I’m not that person anymore."

Katara’s heart tightened. "I think it was the same with Aang," she said quietly. "He loved the perfect version of me—the one who didn’t have this anger or blood on her hands."

Zuko didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stayed quiet, letting the words hang between them. Katara realized, for the first time in a long time, that he was actually waiting for her to speak, listening without rushing in to fill the silence.

"I'm more than just the Avatar’s wife," she said, the truth sinking deep into her chest as if she'd just admitted it to herself.

Zuko met her gaze, his amber eyes sharp, intentful. "Damn fucking right."

"I want to find my purpose," she added, her voice stronger now, more sure.

Zuko nodded, though he looked uncertain of how to respond. "Want to spar? It sometimes helps me clear my head." 

Katara’s lips curled into a grin. "You’re on."

The cool wind whipped around them as they both rose to their feet, the challenge now alive between them. Katara’s blood thrummed, the energy of the moon pulling at her. Zuko mirrored her fighting stance, a fire in his eyes as he smiled.

He struck first, a stream of flames cutting through the air, warm gusts of wind hitting Katara’s face. She dodged effortlessly, her hands sweeping out to draw water from a nearby fountain. The cold liquid whipped through the air, slicing at Zuko with precision and power, anger and guilt fueling her every move.

They clashed again and again—slicing, striking, jumping—until they were both drenched in water and sweat, the night air hanging heavy with the intensity of their battle. 

Katara summoned a tendril of water, pushing Zuko back. He countered with a burst of fire, rolling forward in a spiral of heat. She lifted him into the air with icy tendrils before throwing him back to the ground. Zuko sprang to his feet, but before he could react, Katara sent another tendril out, yanking him back down to the grass.

He shot a burst of fire at her, but she danced around it, landing on top of him, her legs straddling his torso, pinning him down. She laughed, her voice ringing out in the still night air. "Still got it, Firelord Zuko."

Zuko’s face flushed a deep pink, but he grinned, his chest rising with breathless laughter. "Fine, I yield Master Katara," he teased, his voice light, still a little breathless. His eyes sparkled with something foreign and dark. Something that made Katara's breath catch on its way out.

The exhilaration of their sparring faded, and Katara suddenly realized how they were positioned, her face flushing a warm pink. She quickly rolled off him and sat beside him in the grass.

"I haven’t bent like that since we fought Azula," she confessed, her voice quieter now.

Zuko gave her an incredulous look, as he wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt. "Really? Not even sparring?"

She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "Aang didn’t like sparring. He thought it was... nonsensical and violent."

Zuko let out a surprised snort, and Katara couldn’t help but smile. "Of course he did."

Some things, it seemed, would never change.

"I know you’re going back to the Southern Water Tribe," Zuko began, his tone shifting slightly, "but... if you’re interested, the Fire Nation is looking for a Water Tribe ambassador. It’s hard work, but it could make a real difference." He hesitated, glancing at her to gauge her reaction. "You could stay in the palace with me and take trips back home frequently. Politics are relentless and unforgiving, but you might find your purpose there."

Katara smiled, feeling a weight lift from her chest. The world felt wide and full of possibilities now—possibilities that she could shape. "I’ll think about it, Zuko. But I have to tie up some loose ends first."

Zuko nodded, his golden eyes softening. "If it isn’t with the Fire Nation... I really do hope you find your purpose, Katara."

His bright gaze held hers for a moment longer than usual, and something unfamiliar stirred inside her—a fluttering sensation she couldn’t quite place. She swallowed and smiled, trying to ignore it.

"Thank you, Zuko."

"Anytime Katara," he said, his voice quiet and unexpectedly gentle.

She stood, extending a hand to help him up from the ground. "I’m going to talk to Sokka and then I’m leaving."

Zuko raised an eyebrow. "Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on Aang, make sure he doesn’t try anything funny." 

Katara grinned, already turning to walk back to the temple, but then, impulsively, she turned back and gave Zuko a quick, fleeting hug. She let go quickly, and didn’t look him in the eyes as she started to leave. 

He stood a little straighter after that, his face even more pink. “Think about my offer Katara, but wherever you go, just know you can write to me for anything.” 

She nodded, "I will. Thank you, for everything."

And with that, she walked away.

Chapter Text

She knocked on the door leading to the room where she knew Sokka was sleeping. She felt a little awkward just barging into his room well into the AM, but her time was precious, and she wanted to leave before she had the chance to change her mind. 

She knocked again, hearing Sokka’s loud snores catch as he woke up from his deep slumber. 

The wood door cracked open and the older boy peered out, annoyance dancing on his features. He was a spitting image of Katara, same tan skin, dark hair, and ocean blue eyes.  

“Katara,” he whined, dragging out the last syllable of her name, “If you’re not dying I’m gonna kill you for waking-“

“Please,” Katara cut him off, her voice trembling just a little. “I just need to talk to you.”

Sokka blinked, clearly still half-asleep, but his expression shifted from frustration to concern as he pushed the door open wider. “Alright, alright. Come in, just make it quick. I’m trying to get some beauty sleep here, I leave first thing in the morning.”

For a moment, she didn’t know where to start. She had told herself this conversation would be easy, that it would make sense, but now that she was here, it felt anything but.

Katara fidgeted with her robe, “Well that’s the thing,” she took a breath, “I want to come with you, back to the Southern Water Tribe, back home.”

His brows furrowed and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Katara,” he surveyed her, and Katara felt like a little girl again, asking Sokka to leave with her to travel the world with The Avatar. 

“What about Aang? Would he come too?” He asked, but something in his gaze told her he already knew the answer. 

“We aren’t getting married,” she breathed, tears suddenly spilling out of her eyes, “We aren’t getting married.” 

Sokka grabbed her in a hug, “Oh, Katara,” He squeezed her shoulders and pulled away, “What happened? Do I need to kill him ‘cause I will.” 

He mocked the action of unsheathing a sword and swung it around, pretending to defend Katara. 

Katara smiled at his antics, and Sokka smiled when she stopped crying. 

“But Katara seriously,” he put away his ‘sword’, “What happened?” 

She opened her mouth, and closed it again, it felt easy to explain before, but now she felt small and childish trying to tell him that she broke the Avatar’s heart because she ‘just wanted to’.

“I wasn’t myself around him,” she started, worrying her mothers necklace in her fingers, the familiar crevices helping to pacify her fears. 

Sokka cocked his head to the side, “What do you mean? I feel like you were more yourself around him than when you were back in the village.”

Katara hesitated, her chest tightening. “Maybe I was, but I still wasn’t myself. I thought it was what I wanted, but every time I was with him, I felt like I was playing a part. Like I was pretending to be someone I’m not.” She paused, her gaze distant. “And I don’t think I even know who I am anymore, Sokka. I’ve been so caught up in everything, I just don’t know anymore.” 

Her voice broke and he pulled her into a hug, “You’re just a kid Katara, it’s ok to not know who you are, or what you’re doing.” 

She sniffled, a wave of frustration rising in her chest. “But it’s not fair. You’re going to be chief, Suki’s going back to Kyoshi, Toph’s opening her academy, Aang’s doing- whatever Avatar stuff, and Zuko’s the Firelord. And I’m just… here. I thought my purpose was with Aang, but now I just feel even more useless.”

Sokka’s embrace tightened, and he pulled her back to look at him. “Katara, you’re not useless. You never have been.” He searched her eyes, trying to ground her. “You’re still figuring things out. And that’s okay. We all are.”

She frowned towards the ground, “Is it wrong that I miss the war sometimes, obviously not the death and destruction, and certainly not Ozai. But stopping it felt like what I was meant to do, like that was my purpose and now with peace there’s nothing more for me. Like my destiny ended with the war.” 

Her brother shook his head, his tone sharp. “Katara, don’t even say that.” She turned away, avoiding his gaze. “Your destiny didn’t end with the war. What you did was incredible, it was so important, but it’s not the only thing you’re meant to do. The war showed you who you are—you're Katara, the last Southern Waterbender, a master healer, and a warrior who took down Azula in one-on-one combat. The war changed all of us, but it also helped you see who you are and who you can become.” 

Katara let out a shaky breath, wiping away her tears. “Spirits, I’m a mess.” 

Sokka chuckled, his voice warm with affection. “Maybe, but aren’t we all?”

She smiled and pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry for disturbing your beauty sleep.” 

He pulled back and rolled his eyes. “It’s fine this time, I guess. But don’t make a habit of it.”

“No promises!” she giggled. 

Sokka gave her a curious look but smiled. “What about Aang? How’s he taking the breakup?”

It felt strange to call it a breakup, as though it were some petty, juvenile thing when it had been her entire world for so long.  

“He’s taking it about how I expected,” Katara sighed, her eyes drifting downward. “Not great.”

“He’ll get over it. If not, that’s his problem. He’s fourteen. Plenty of time to find a wife.”

Katara smiled, a little lighter. She often forgot how young they all were, how much time they still had ahead of them. 

“You’re right,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t even know why I agreed to it in the first place.”

Sokka smiled, nonjudgmental. “It’s alright. You were lost. No one’s blaming you for making decisions based on teenage hormones. Though, maybe Suki would’ve—she thought you were an idiot for even looking in his direction.”

Katara laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like Suki.”

They exchanged goodbyes, and Sokka, now eager to get back to his sleep, quickly ushered her out of the room. Katara agreed and headed to find a guest room to crash in for the rest of the night. 

She stayed in her bed, staring at the ceiling, and she closed her eyes. 

She dreamt calmly of pale moon flowers and penguin seals, a black sea filled with stars in which she was the moon. She dreamt of a warm flame grazing her face, very gently, almost playful, spinning her around and causing her to orbit in the sea with the stars and flowers.
Warmth encircled her and the flowers wrapped around her arms like vines on a tree, they glowed in light of the flames and didn’t once appear washed out.

Chapter Text

Her peaceful slumber was abruptly broken by the sound of a frustrated voice and the sensation of her shoulders being shaken roughly. Katara groaned and rolled over, pushing her brother away.

“Katara, wake up! We have to go,” Sokka said, his voice grating as he dragged her unwillingly from her warm dreamland.

A loud groan escaped her lips as she groggily flipped over in her bed away from him, but then, without warning, her face was splashed with cold, icy water.

She gasped, her eyes snapping open. Startled, she scrambled out of bed, reaching out to smack her brother.

Sokka yelped and jumped back, narrowly avoiding her slap. The sudden movement caused Katara to become tangled in her covers and tumble face-first onto the floor.

She groaned, using waterbending to twist the wetness from her clothes and fling it back at her brother. “I swear, Sokka, I’m going to fucking—”

Sokka made an angry noise, mouth gaping open like a fish, staring at his soaked clothes. “Spirits Katara I’m all wet! Do you want to come or not? I tried waking you up the normal way, you left me with no choice.”

Katara shot him a venomous glare, her ocean-blue eyes seething. “Just. Go. Away.”

After several more frustrated jabs and groans of exhaustion, they finally began their journey toward the warship Zuko’s fleet had lent them for their trip home.

Instead of the typical red Fire Nation banners, Zuko had arranged for the ship’s insignia to be adapted to reflect a traditional Water Tribe design. Long, slender blue ribbons with faux fur adorning the edges. 

“It’s more Northern style don't-chu think?” Sokka said, gesturing to the banners she was looking at. 

She shrugged, he was right, the navy banners reflected a distinctly Northern style, she supposed it was better than the normal blood red the warships usually carried. 

It wasn’t a long flight, but by the end Katara felt sick and weightless. A deep sense of shame felt nestled in between her ribs sticking to them like penguin seal fat. She hasn’t returned home since she ran away almost two years ago. She abandoned her people, her home. 

She put her head in her hands shielding her eyes from the yellow morning light. 

Sokka seemed trapped in his own thoughts as well, Katara noticed the boy pull out a small paper from his pocket, stare at it, fold it up, and return it to his pocket. He repeated this cycle around four times before Katara’s curiosity and plain concern got the best of her. 

“What’s that?” She nodded towards his pocket where the paper was concealed. 

He jumped, startled at the sudden question, he swayed as if he was unsure what to say. Slowly and carefully he pulled out the paper, cheeks tinted a slight pink. 

“Um, it’s just a portrait,” he thrusted it out towards her sheepishly. 

It was of a young Suki, gray eyes crinkling with laughter, dressed in traditional earth kingdom clothes. She was holding up a small animal to the viewer, presenting it proudly, a familiar competitive glint in her eyes. 

Katara laughed and Sokka yanked it out of her hands, “Don’t laugh!”

“Aww Suki was so tiny!” She cooed as she laughed. 

Sokka’s ears turned a deep red, and he very gently folded the picture into his pocket once more. 

His face suddenly turned serious, “I’m going to miss her.” He confessed, hands folding in his lap. 

Katara stared at him sympathetically, “I know, I will too.” 

He nodded and stared out across the landscape, “I just don’t know what to do, I have to look after the tribe, it’s my duty, and she has to lead the Warrior’s, that’s her duty.” 

Katara stayed silent, waiting for the boy to continue. 

“But I know I can’t lose her,” He shook his head, “I can’t, she’s my everything. We’re trying to go long-distance, but it's so scary. What if she’s in danger? What if she dies, I won’t even know until days later!” 

He put his head in his hands and sighed, Katara stepped towards him and rubbed his shoulder, “Genuinely Sokka, you and Suki are the most strong-willed people I know, neither of you would allow yourselves to die without the other. And besides, Suki is tough, she’ll be okay.”

Sokka sighed, “I know, I know, I just will miss her.” 

She nodded and smiled, “Of course you will, and she will miss you, more than you know.” 

He looked off into the distance again, and Katara noticed how much he has changed since the beginning of their journey. He definitely looked older than when they left, but he also looked so tired. The thin skin under his eyes were painted a sick violet color, his cheeks once full with youth were gaunt. Scars and burns disrupted the skin on his face and arms. He looked plagued with memories, not unlike the soldiers she saw frequently in her travels. Haunted with blood. 

As the bright sun rose and the balloon traveled south, the air became crisp and cold. 

Snow gently swirled in the air, and Katara couldn’t help but feel a sense of childlike glee from the sight. 

“Feels good to be home,” Sokka grinned, facing the white snow caps.

As they landed, they were immediately greeted with hugs and cheers from the people of their village. At first glance, the town looked very similar to when they left, besides for a couple new huts here and there, but, with the addition of the soldiers who survived to come home, the village was more full of life than Katara can remember. 

“Dad!” She yelled gleefully, running towards his arms, she buried her face in his chest. 

“Katara! You’re here?” His thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

She shifted uncomfortably, glancing around at the townspeople surrounding her. 

“Where Aang?” A small villager yelped running up to her. 

“Yeah! Where is he?”

“Can we see the necklace?” 

“When are you having kids?” 

“Where Aang?!” 

Fear built up brick by brick in her chest, small children and even some soldiers crowded her, anxiously awaiting for her husband to emerge from the shadows. 

“Um well,” She started, kids still shouting over her, her head spinning. 

“Aang will not be returning with me, and we will not be getting married,” she said this faster than she meant, words stuttering and tripping over themselves. 

The village people exchanged glances, some confused and others downright disgusted. Her dad stared at her mouth slightly agape. She avoided their eyes to the best of her ability. 

“What?” Someone, older this time, in the crowd shouted, breaking the cold silence that fell over them. 

People snickered, covering their faces, “The Avatar is not even good enough for you?” 

More people joined in the laughter, jeering various insults and names. An onslaught of disgusting, venomous words that pierced through her skin and sank into her heart. 

Icy tears filled her eyes and she looked away again. 

“Oh boohoo water-bending slut!” 

Hakoda whipped his head around and the crowd fell into a deafening silence.

 “If I hear another person even so much as look at my daughter again the wrong way.” His voice was low and dangerous, sharp and cold. “I will make sure you pay, this young lady has done more for the war effort than every single person in this village combined. She defeated Firelord Azula, she led the Avatar to victory. She is a hero and I expect her to be treated as such.” 

His voice boomed across the village, his command sucked the air out of the town and Katara couldn’t help but feel ashamed. 

She felt weak, like a damsel in need of saving. Bile rose to her throat and embarrassment clung to her like frostbite. 

She bowed to the village and took a deep breath, “My relation with the Avatar is no one’s business but my own, I am ashamed of the outdated, sexist, disgusting-”

Hakoda put his hand on her shoulder, “Let us have a feast, in celebration of the return of the heroes who saved the world from the wrath of the Fire Nation.” 

The crowd cheered for the chief, and as she looked up at him she saw the flicker of disappointment in his blue eyes. 

But it wasn’t directed at the townspeople, it was directed to no one but herself. 

Chapter Text

During the feast, the invasive questions slowly came to a stop, much to Katara’s relief. The whole village was crowded on a long table adorned with a fur table run, a wide assortment of warm foods were piled on. Sea prunes, misiraq, seal soup, and of course, a cup of warm sake. 

The village pulsed with excitement, children and elders alike gathered around enjoying beautiful food with beautiful company. 

And Katara felt sick. 

Mere moments ago, she was ripped apart, torn apart by the delicate threads that string her together, and now she was laughing and drinking and eating with the same people. 

She took a sip of rice wine, the liquid burning her throat. Her thoughts tangled as the conversations swirled around her, but they kept snapping back to the same place. Her father. His eyes, always so full of quiet judgment. The disappointment there, subtle but sharp enough to cut through the noise

It was going to be a long night, in the Water Tribe feasts like this could last well into the night, up until when the cold wind became unbearable and they had to retreat into the warm safety of their huts. 

She noticed Sokka glancing over at her, worry glazing over his eyes, he tilted his head with a silent question. 

She shrugged in response, and his frown deepened. They have gotten good at communicating silently during their travels, whether it be they were kidnapped by some crazy Fire Nation soldier, or lying to a shop owner, the siblings had a quiet language that only they could understand. 

Around desert, (akutaq with white sugar dusted on top) Katara’s tongue became loose with alcohol. 

Her laughs rolled off her tongue easily and she felt her speech become slurred, tripping over some words in her native tongue, confusing them with Fire Nation dialect or Earth Kingdom conjugations earning her wary looks from the other villagers. 

Sokka was shouting something, completely untrue, about their travels, something about a great monster they defeated in some far away town, the villagers clapped and cheered along laughing along with him. 

Katara felt a pang of jealousy, the way he commands a room, with respect and power, is something Katara has never had. 

Her hands shook as she poured another glass, a little too much this time. She was losing control. But at least here, in this haze, it didn’t matter.

Her head spun as she tried grasping onto the different conversations happening around her, but her mind kept settling back to her father, and her people. 

Water-bending slut

She was more than that, she knows it, she knows it isn’t true, but it still seems to hit a tender nerve. The play they saw on Ember Island seemed to have a similar perception of her, seductive, motherly, emotional, water bender. 

But she knows it isn’t true. And maybe that’s the reason she feels so deeply hurt, that she knows she is more. 

She placed her head back in her hands, mind spinning, it was going to be a rough morning. 

She got up suddenly from her seat to the right of Sokka, she stumbled up and her vision danced with spots, it was going to be a really rough morning. She stood outside, staring through the arctic tundra, her body felt so warm still, her feet tingling numb. 

She tripped as she walked, and her father got up from his chair and followed her, excusing himself politely for a moment. 

“Katara,” Her father’s voice cut through the fog, and she jumped, startled as if the world had suddenly been yanked from beneath her feet. She hadn’t even realized he had come outside. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking away the dizziness as he approached.

“Can you not follow me?” Her voice was thick and slurred, barely audible, as it was soaked in the same rice wine that she’d been drinking. 

Her father’s eyes stared down on her, the same quiet disappointment lining them.

“Katara, I am worried about you,” he stepped towards her, but she stepped back, fast, causing her to lose her balance and stumble again. “Please Katara, I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore. I thought it was the war, but this? Getting this intoxicated in front of your whole village? Leaving the Avatar at the altar? What is going on with you?” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, praying the sickness she felt will just go away, “Dad please I didn’t just leave him it’s… complicated.”

It felt painful to talk, like she was dragging a heavy rock through tar.  

He stepped forward, and this time Katara didn’t jump away, “I know, and I know you have your reasons, but you have to see how your actions affect others.” 

She wanted to scream, obviously she knew that, obviously she spent hours and hours of painful self reflection trying to decide what to do, obviously she saw the hurt casted over Aang’s eyes as she broke his heart. 

But in her drunken state all she could mutter was, “Please Dad.” 

He stared at her sympathetically, he looked heart broken. He then took her in his arms and held her, shielding her from the harsh wind, “Let’s get you to bed ok?” 

She nodded wordlessly, surrendering to him and walking towards her hut. 

Her hair stuck to her sweaty face, and her eyes behind her head were spinning in a dizzying way. Her hands itched to pour another glass. 

Her mind went blank after that, as much as she reached into her mind to recall, nothing appeared. 

It was a little frightening, the loss of control, the feeling of losing everything tangible around her, the only feelings in her own mind. She never really was a drinker. 

She woke up with a splitting headache.