Oh, I'm so excited to be actually writing again! I got such a wonderful response to my last piece that I decided to write a lengthy story this time! Yay! This story will focus mainly on Aang, Katara, and a little Zuko, but other characters will obviously pop up here and there! This is mostly Kataang, as I'm a really big shipper of the original romance, but I threw in some Zutara for fun. ;) Most of this story will be rated T, but I do know that currently there will be at least one M chapter. I bet you guys will all be looking forward to that. Hahaha. As for the age of the characters, I meant for everyone to be around 20, so Aang is like 19 here, and Zuko is 22? Whatever honestly. lol. Onward to the Aangst!

Just for reference, this chapter has touches of M, but there's nothing a teen can't handle. Also feedback! I'd like it! As this is going to take a while to write, I'd love to hear whatever you have to say about it!


The day had been bright and sunny and the cherry blossoms outside Katara's window swayed gently in the late spring breeze. Her eyes drifted past the clouds of pink and watched as merchants and farmers packed up their products for the day. They had had a short winter this year and the farmer's reveled in the early harvests that would feed them well into the fall. She watched a small group of children toddle along together, giggling and pointing at the merchant obsessing over his cabbages as they passed. Her smile was faint and she looked back at the blank paper in front of her.

It was supposed to be a letter by now, and she frowned at her inability to figure out what to write. Her father had never been one for idle gossip and since there were few diplomatic issues to address before the meeting in Ba Sing Se next week, she found herself wishing for other news to inform him of. Her fingers lightly grazed her mother's betrothal necklace and she sighed deeply, wishing she didn't feel the customary wash of confusion that always came with those type of thoughts.

She took another shaky breath, inhaling the scent of the cherry blossoms and early summer heat. Her mind drifted back to those many nights spent under a canopy, lounging around a campfire as they waited for morning to arrive. In her memory she saw Aang, prodding the fire with a twig, his younger body still thin and inexperienced. He smiled at her and she unconsciously smiled back as her mind reminded her of just how important those nights had been.

Something in the corner of her vision moved and she turned her head, the memory dissolving into smoke, to watch Aang saunter into the room, nonchalant and tired. He smiled weakly in acknowledgement and quickly shed his top before collapsing onto the bed behind her. The crimson sheets puffed with the pressure and they slowly drifted back to the bed like a leaf falling in the wind. Her eyes lingered on him, heavy with displeasure and unease, as she watched his breathing level out and his chest rise and fall with each slumberous breath. It was all too often that this happened and she felt the longing twist deeply in her gut. She realized that her letter would not be written that night and she turned to extinguish the candle by her side.


It was not often that Aang had the time to sleep in and it was even further rare when Katara could allow such luxuries as well. His days were filled with meetings and conferences, and while peace had finally settled on the land, rebel forces were always an issue, and he found himself struggling to maintain the balance between his relationship with Katara and his duties to the world. He reached out to draw a hand over her slumbering form, the dark red sheets slipping away to grant him access.

He bit his lip as her mocha skin came into view, a soft palette of curves and crevices that he had explored countless times. Her brows furrowed and she made a quiet sound of protest, but he was too quickly seduced by her nakedness to stop himself. His callused hand grazed over her hip and he was about to draw a finger between her legs when she abruptly flipped over, exposing her back to him. His brows drew down then and he wondered why, with so little time to enjoy each other's company, she'd refuse now.

He sighed, dropping his head back to the pillow and gazing up into the deep red silk canopy above their bed. Zuko had been very kind to offer them housing in Capitol City, and while Sokka and Toph were enjoying their house together, Aang had never felt one hundred percent at home in the fire nation. He was sure Katara felt the same way; he could see it in her eyes when she looked around the market for produce. She'd often commented that while the fireweeds were delicious stewed, she much preferred the sea prunes of the southern water tribe. And while he would have agreed to live anywhere as long as he was with her, he had a duty he had to attend to, and she had agreed that it was in their best interests to live in the city.

She rustled beside him and his thoughts returned to her warm body and the pleasures they had shared together. It had been so long since they had last had the time for lovemaking and his body ached for him to push into her folds. He winced as his erection swelled to its full thickness, and glanced over at her once again. She was moving now, waking up, yawning and her eyes settled on his when her arms dropped from a long stretch.

His smile was wicked and held tawdry thoughts behind it. "Good morning, my love."

Katara incredulously raised a brow. "Good morning, Aang." Suddenly there was a knock on the bedroom door and a slender messenger slipped through the archway to stand before them. He flushed a little at the apparent lack of clothing but cleared his throat to deliver his message.

"Avatar Aang, your presence is requested by Lord Zuko. He wishes to discuss his preferences on leaders for Omashu, now that King Bumi has passed, before you and Lady Toph leave for Ba Sing Se this afternoon." Aang rubbed his cranial arrow tattoo and nodded.

"Yeah, tell him I'll be there in a few minutes." The messenger bowed and closed the bedroom door behind him. Aang exhaled deeply, no longer feeling as rowdy as before. He looked up to gaze into Katara's eyes, but they were strangely veiled, a new occurrence since Bumi's death a couple of weeks ago. He felt her hand grasp his, and he nodded slightly, a silent confirmation to a silent question if he would be alright.

"Aang..." Her voice called to him, but he could sense the hesitancy. He looked at her again. "Aang, you know I'm here to listen if you need to talk. I know Bumi's death was hard on everyone, but I'm mostly worried about you."

He felt oddly insulted that she should think him so weak as to be affected by his friend's death. What with the wars and the rebel resistance he had lost many people he cared about, but Bumi was different, and they both knew it. He couldn't place why that annoyed him so much.

"I'm fine, I told you before." He snapped as her hand lifted off his. "That's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se with Toph, to make sure Omashu has a new king. A king we approve of."

"Of course. If it's for Omashu." He could feel the chill of her words even as she spoke them, and for one split second he let the anger and anguish of Bumi's death surround him and speak out.

"Glad to see we're being civil about this." He regretted it before he said it, and he turned away from her to make angry faces at his shadow. She was only trying to comfort him and here he was being a total prick to her. But when he turned back to apologise she had risen from the bed and had dragged a robe across her beautiful curves, stomping into the adjoining closet to put her bending practice tunic on.

"Katara... I-" But her icy cold stare from the closet spoke volumes and he was wise enough to close his mouth and sigh. He thought it best to simply leave, and return later when her anger had subsided. He snatched his shirt from the floor and slipped from the room.


When she heard a faint click, she turned to the bed expecting him to be fidgeting with some trinket, and she was ready to lay into him with all the pent up fear and anger she had kept from him for the past few weeks. She knew King Bumi's death meant that the last of Aang's friends from before the war were gone and she also knew that she was strong enough to support him through the pain, yet each time she offered him support he simply shrugged and pretended like it hadn't been a big deal. "He was over 115 years old, Katara," she remembered him saying the night they got the news, and just like that he had blocked her off. It both angered her and worried her to no end. What if their bond was slipping? What if he no longer felt the need to confide in her? What if his love was waning as quickly as the moon?

She discovered the bedroom empty and Aang gone. The air was still ripe from their brief argument and she felt a familiar pang of despair run down her spine. He had left. Just gotten up and left instead of trying to apologise or fix what was wrong. That wasn't at all like him, and she feared that she was losing him forever. Katara collapsed onto the bed, unable to keep back the tears any longer.

It was in that depressed fury that the slender messenger from before found her an hour later. His knock had sent desperate hope to Katara's eyes and as she saw the red robes of the messenger the light went out from them and he swallowed, worried he had once again disturbed something.

"La... Lady Katara? Are you alright?" His weak words seemed petty and insincere to her ears, but she nodded and wiped at her face blindly. He nodded and continued. "Master Iroh is expecting you for your lesson. Would you like me to cancel it?"

"No... no, I'll be there, I'll just be another minute." The messenger bowed and left the room and she turned to the window to look out upon the street. A small boy dressed in orange robes held a ball of concentrated air in his hands for a girl in blue who giggled and blushed. She smiled to herself and then drew her brows together, looking closer to see if she had actually seen what she thought she had just witnessed. But the light from the sun blinded her for a moment and when her vision returned the lonely street only contained the cabbage merchant, quietly cooing to his cabbages.