Honorable

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Half an hour after sunset and Pema had managed to get three of her children to bed. She'd had to rock a fussy Rohan, tell two bedtime stories (the first didn't have enough action for Meelo), and promise Ikki that they could go and visit Blueberry Spicehead the next day, but still, it was practically a record. Now she was in search of the fourth, who surprisingly was neither reading in the sitting room nor playing Pai Sho with her uncle. After checking all throughout the temple's living quarters, Pema finally found her eldest daughter with Tenzin in the courtyard.

Jinora and her father sat together on the steps, poring over one of Tenzin's journals of Avatar Aang's adventures by the light of a lantern. Pema hung back to watch the pair. She fell in love with Tenzin all over again whenever she saw him like this with their children. It seemed like everything he did, he did for others. For his family, for Korra, for Republic City. Even with Meelo the day before, he'd only wanted to help, though the results had been more than he'd bargained for. She could not ask for a better father for her children, and she just wished that he could see that more often.

Over on the steps, Tenzin was nearly hunched over, bending his tall frame to his daughter's level. Though Pema couldn't make out what he was saying, she could hear the tone of his voice, low and warm and strong as he pointed to something on the page. Jinora listened with rapt attention, soaking up every last bit of information.

With a fair bit of reluctance at interrupting such a moment, Pema cleared her throat, and father and daughter swung around to face her. Even though Jinora took after Pema's own parents more, in that moment she could clearly see Tenzin in the young girl's eager, intelligent eyes. "Jinora, it's time for bed, sweetheart."

"But Mom, I only have twenty pages left," Jinora pleaded.

Pema looked to Tenzin but realized he would be no help tonight, delighted as he was with his daughter's love for history, and Pema had to admit it seemed counterproductive to suppress Jinora's desire to learn. She folded her arms, but her smile ruined the stern posture. "All right, you can finish the book, but only if you go and get ready for bed now."

"Thanks, Mom!" Jinora beamed, hugging her father tightly before running to her mother to do the same. As their daughter disappeared inside, Pema made her way to the steps and sat beside her husband.

"So," she raised an eyebrow at him, "Ikki told me she wants to see the baby bison tomorrow. She thought you'd like to go with her."

He chuckled. "You know, I really would."

The lines of his face were relaxed, and she knew he was content. Watching him, she felt a rush of love for this silly, stubborn, uptight, wonderful man. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she drew his head down and kissed him firmly. When she pulled away, she couldn't hold back a laugh. Even in the dim light of the lantern she could see his reddened cheeks. Fifty-one years old and he could still flush like a boy.

"What was that for?"

Pema shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips. "I love you."

His face softened. "I love you, too."

A mischievous light entered his eyes then, and he leaned forward to capture her lips again, his arms encircling her and pulling her flush against him. For a moment Pema allowed herself to revel in her husband's warm embrace before reluctantly breaking away.

"Wait," she began apologetically, placing a hand against his chest. "I told Ikki and Meelo you'd be in to say goodnight."

He retreated a few inches as well, clearing his throat. "Right. I'll—I'd better go do that."

As he stood and turned to leave, she caught his hand. Her thumb brushed along the blue arrow on the back of it. "But after…"

He smiled broadly at her unspoken promise, his gray-blue eyes a bit darker than usual. "I'll be there."