Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar; this is just Fan Fiction.

Somethings you should know: This story takes place several years after the war against the Firenation. Some things have changed over all that time. Sokka is dead (Oh no! What am I going to do for comic relief?)… Almost all of the Firenation was whipped out during the final battle, only a hand full of fire benders remain. Zuko fell into a volcano (as the blue spirit at the time) - or rather was pushed by his now dead sister, Azula - no-one could have survived a fall like that, not even a firebender. Katara thinks Aang killed the Blue Spirit – with whom she had fallen in love - they haven't spoken since that battle.

Authors note: Sorry if the people are really out of character, it's hard to keep them in character for me. Also, you should be warned that I'm a supporter of Zutara – I don't care if it doesn't make sense, or if there's no supporting evidence – it just seems right to me!

The wind howled loudly over the open plain creating a mournful wail as it traveled into the trees beyond. The tortured cry of some lonesome animal added to the nighttime symphony. A little house stood at the edge of the clearing, nestled warmly in by the trees around it. It was a modest house, as if the person in it didn't really care for furnishings and such, like they just wanted to forget. Attached to the back of the house was a largish barn that seemed to get more attention than the house.

Presently, the curtains pulled back to reveal a round white edged face with a brown center. It stuffed a small nut into its mouth, and then looked back to the window. Two ball shaped green eyes looked out over the landscape.

"Ook" the lemur chirped, looking intently at a dark shape moving on the horizon.

"What is it Momo?" a voice asked. A tallish man probably in his late twenties or early thirties came to the window. His head was round and had a large blue arrow tattooed to the top of it, he had large ears that looked like he'd never grow into them, and his mouth was slightly to the right instead of dead center. His eyes looked tiered, like he had given up on life, defiantly not the high spirited Airbender he had been all those years ago, not even the determined yet slightly terrified boy that hadn't quite mastered all the elements he had been on the day the Firenation was invaded. His shoulders sagged in a way that looked depressing. Nothing was the same since the day he won the war. All his friendships seemed to slowly dissipate, if not end suddenly.

Sokka had died due to a wound received during the battle that even Katara's healing abilities couldn't fix. Toph - though she had come to help with the final strike against the Firenation - had gone back home again, she would never give up Earth Rumble 6 and since she couldn't read or write she and Aang eventually fell out of touch. Katara had somehow convinced herself that Aang had killed the Blue Spirit and had never forgiven him for that fact.

Aang looked out the window, squinting at the dark shape until he could see the outline of three people, two large, and one small like a child. They seemed to be traveling, but so late at night? It seemed odd that they hadn't set up camp by now. It was cold out, and they would need a place to stay, perhaps they had seen his home and would come requesting shelter. For once in what seemed like a blue moon there was a possibility that Aang would have someone else besides Appa and Momo for company. He had been alone for so long that the thought of guests of any kind caused Aang to smile. He missed having friends, and he'd like to have a conversation with someone who could actually reply to him in a human tongue.

Aang was at the door almost before the knock came. He had busied himself cleaning out Aapa's barn while he waited for the travelers to come over to his home. The second he heard the tap he had rushed to the door, barely able to contain his excitement at visitors. He was all smiles up to the point where he saw the face of the first in the group. The second he met the strong amber gaze his face was a mass of shock, his jaw dropped, and he stared.

The mans face was riddled with burn marks, instead of just the one he had harbored in days of old, but he was still unmistakably the prince had had been when Aang was twelve. You could see it in his stance, the way he carried his head, and in his eyes. He was still proud, even though he had no empire left. His whole nation had fallen, everything he had was been destroyed before his eyes and yet he was still the same strong person that he was before all the tragedy that had befallen him. Most shocking though was that fact that –

"You're not dead" Aang whispered in shock. "I saw you fall. No one could survive that!" Zuko evenly returned Aang's stare, the look of shock that had been on his face only moments before was gone now.

"We come here to ask of shelter for the night" was all that he said as if Aang had never spoken, as if they had never met. Perhaps they hadn't, perhaps this wasn't Zuko after all, perhaps Aang's mind was playing tricks on him, but he doubted it. Aang looked at Zuko for a few seconds more, deciding weather or not to let him in. He was about to say no when he remembered that in the last moments he had seen him Zuko had been fighting his sister, Azula. He had been on Aang side.

"I would not turn down shelter to anyone" He said evenly, playing the same I-don't-know-you game as Zuko. His gaze swept over the rest of the group. The other traveler – a woman – had her back to him, and was keeling down next to a child. She had long brown hair, it was rolled in a similar way to how Katara once did her hair, but instead of a braid, the river of brown cascaded down her back freely. She stood up, her movements as fluid as water. She was like the Katara Aang remembered in more ways than one. Then she turned around and for a second time that night Aang's jaw dropped.

"It's rude to stare" The child said. This was followed by a stern look from her mothers clear blue eyes.

"Well it is!" the girl said as she was shooed inside by her mother. The woman looked expectantly at Aang, waiting for a greeting of some sort, but all Aang could do is stand there, dumbfounded. After what felt like an eternity or two Aang opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Zuko coming outside once again.

"Katara it's freezing out here" He said "You'll get sick, come inside!" She gave him a look that said 'you worry too much,' then followed him inside.

Aang came after them quickly, closing the door behind him a bit too loudly. The whole world spun, memories and thoughts flew unbidden into his head. The two thoughts that stuck were: 'Why won't she talk to me? Zuko's alive. He must have told her that I'm not responsible for what happened to the Blue Spirit that day. Why does she still hate me?' and 'She has a kid?!?' He wasn't sure which one hurt more. Instead of voicing these thoughts though, he just removed four bowls from a cupboard and a loaf of bread.

"You must be hungry after your travels" he said, it took all his abilities to keep his voice even and not to burst out with questions. "Would you like soup? It's not the best, but it's something." They agreed to being famished and Aang poured the soup with shaking hands, placing it on his small table and putting the bread in the center.

"Real food!" the girl cried joyously and dug in. Aang smiled, she was defiantly Sokka's niece. At least they had something to remember him by.

The dinner was silent for the most part, the air filled with awkward tension. After about half an hour had gone by Aang couldn't take it anymore.

"Why won't you talk to me, Katara?" he said at last. "Zuko's not dead he must have told you it wasn't me that pushed him! Why are you still mad at me?" Katara looked at Aang with tears in her eyes, but still didn't say anything. Her hand went to her neck almost involuntarily, Aang's gaze followed her hand and when in reached her neck he saw a large burn mark scarring her flawless skin. He turned to Zuko, his rage blatantly obvious on his face.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?" He shouted, the wind started to rise, and the edges of his tattoos got brighter, but before he could enter the Avatar state Katara placed his hand on his arm, and pulled him down, shaking her head.

"It wasn't me" Zuko said. "There was an… accident. I got there fast enough to save Katara, but I was too late for her voice." He looked down at his hands, an ashamed look on his face. "I failed."

Katara looked to Zuko with love-filled eyes that made Aang's belly tighten and placed her hand on his arm as if to say 'you tried.' 'Why does she have to love him?' Aang thought 'I loved her first! He tried to kill us more than once and I'm the one that saved her! It's not fair!' he would, of course, never say any of this, just like he never found the courage to tell Katara how he felt about her. And now it was too late to do that.

"You could have healed yourself!" Aang insisted, turning to Katara. "You can still heal yourself! There's no reason not to, is there? Why won't you fix it?" Aang looked desperate; he hated seeing Katara like this, she looked so unhappy.

"She tried, trust me, she tried" Zuko answered for her, as Katara turned her blue gaze onto Aang once more, but her hand stayed on Zuko's arm. "It was all she could do to heal the vocal chords back in one piece. That's one reason were so grateful that we found you." A look of confusion crossed Aang's face as Zuko continued. "Only an realized Airbender, -" for some reason the daughter gave a little huff at this "- like you, could fully heal Katara."

"How could I help her?" Aang asked, looking a bit confused, but feeling proud that he could help her where Zuko could not. "If her healing couldn't fix it, what could airbending do for her?" Zuko looked at Aang with bewilderment on his face, as if he expected Aang to know already, but how could he?

"You don't know, do you?" Aang asked. Zuko shook his head "Well, now were really screwed." Aang said with a sigh. Katara tapped him on the shoulder and gave him an expectant look. She was holding a piece of paper in one hand.

"Mother knows" the little girl said from the other end of the table. "If you give her something to write with she can tell you" then she looked back to her soup bowl and idly twirled her long oddly colored pale hair between her thumb and four finger, as if she hadn't said anything. Aang got up and quickly fetched a quill for Katara to write with. She began scribbling things down immediately, and when Aang looked over her shoulder it wasn't how to fix her voice.

"You can say all that when you've got your voice back!" Aang and Zuko said almost in unison. They looked at each other surprised to be agreeing on something. Katara shot them both a glare for reading over her shoulder, but she crossed out the extra thoughts and began writing on the back. When she was done she handed Aang the parchment. He read it and his eyes grew wide.

"You want me to do WHAT?"

A while later Katara was sitting at the table, resting one delicate hand on her neck. It was a slightly reddish color as if it had been rubbed for several hours by sandpaper, and it stung when Katara touched the spot, but it was worth it. Her daughter was sitting next to her on the chair, her head resting against Katara's side, half asleep, her long blonde hair draped over her mothers shoulder and her eyelids drooped almost to a close.

"Time for someone to go to bed" Zuko said, coming over to the little girl.

"Dad!" she protested, struggling to sit up. "I'm not tired!" She threw off the statement by letting out a huge yawn.

"Okay" she said "So maybe I'm a little tired" she got up and followed Zuko to where Aang had shown them the extra bedroom, rubbing her blue-grey eyes the whole way there. Katara smiled as she saw them go, she loved her little girl dearly.

"That's Kenyasan, my daughter" she said to Aang. Her voice was horse, and it wasn't the most comfortable thing to speak, but what did you expect after not being able to talk for three years?

"I never thought of Zuko as a father" Aang said, turning his head away to hide the tears that he could feel welling up in the corner of his eyes. He suddenly grew very intent on washing his hands for what seemed to be the twentieth time. He continued to bend the water onto his hands and back into the bucket.

"Aang" Katara said, suddenly by his side, her hand on his shoulder. He turned his face away from her.

"Aang" Katara said again "Kenya is an Airbender," she paused "just like her father." The water fell to the ground with a splash.