Aang and Katara had an apartment in the Upper Ring in Ba Sing Se, and one in the guest wing at Zuko's palace. Either of these places would have been thrilled to accommodate them, to be the birth Nation of their firstborn. They were comfortable and populated with capable medical professionals and modern facilities. But they were determined to go South.

It had been their intention from the beginning to go to the South Pole in the last weeks of Katara's pregnancy. They had their own small hut there, only steps from Hakoda's and just as close to Sokka's. Katara was excited. Excited to be with her family, excited to bend her own birthing hut and to have Kanna as her midwife.

They were in Ba Sing Se, working, and Katara was becoming increasingly claustrophobic under the scrutiny of the public eye. It seemed everywhere they went, people wanted to talk to them, to congratulate them, to ask how they were. At first it was endearing. Then it was wearing. As her due date neared, the best way Katara could find to calm herself at the end of the day was to talk about getting out of the city.

They lay in bed one night, discussing their preparations for the impending trip as Aang rubbed her legs. Katara grew quiet.

"I just realized," she said, "we haven't talked at all about Air Nomad customs. Is…is there anything your people did that you want?"

Aang shrugged, "Honestly, I don't really know much about that sort of thing. The most insight I ever got was from the naming ceremonies. Gyatso named a couple of babies when I was a kid and I got to tag along. Those usually happened a little over a week after the baby was born." He paused, considering, "I think the first few days were pretty private. I remember hearing people talking about that." He blushed and cleared his throat, "I could do some chanting maybe? While you're in labor?"

Katara smiled but it was a little melancholy. "I'd like that," she replied.

A few days later, Aang returned to their apartment in the Upper Ring, finally done with the last meeting he had scheduled in the city. Katara was already home and in their bedroom, packing.

"There's been a slight change of plans," she informed him when he walked in the door. He arched an eyebrow and she took a deep breath, "I want to have the baby at the Southern Air Temple."

Aang's eyes widened, "What?"

She nodded, "I sent a letter to Gran last week and I just got word back today. She and my dad and Sokka are going to come with us."

"Katara…are you sure? I mean, there's no one there. What if something happens?"

She was unfazed by this, "Gran delivered every baby in the South my entire life, and she never had help from healers. I have total faith in her."

Aang frowned, "But you were so excited about going home," he took her hands, "I thought being in the South Pole for this was important to you."

She shook her head and looked up at him, "Being with my family is important." She paused, "Our lives have gotten so public in the last couple of years. When we talked the other night I realized what I really want is to be somewhere private, where we don't have to answer questions or worry about having to turn away visitors. I want this to be about us. You know?"

He nodded and kissed her forehead, "I know," he murmured. He could tell there was something else on her mind but she didn't vocalize it. Instead she released his hands and turned back to her packing, "I need to stop by the herbalist before we leave. The altitude might be hard for Gran, I want to make sure we're prepared. Will you come with?"

"Yes," he replied, "is there anything else I can do?"

"Well, you should probably draft a memo to the Council to let them know you and Sokka are going to be nearly impossible to reach soon," she said with a bit of a smirk.

Aang covered his face with his hands, letting out an aggravated groan, "They are going to freak out," he realized. Katara bit back a laugh, glad her back was to him. She didn't think he would approve of how delighted she was to have the Council over a barrel for a change.

"Probably," she replied lightly, "which is why you should tell your runner not to deliver it until tomorrow, when we're already gone."

He dropped his hands to his sides and sighed, "Good idea."

xXXx

Aang sat in the silence of the shrine room. The sun was setting and he knew Katara was in their room, going through the stretches she'd started doing each night before bed.

He'd been there nearly half an hour already and was comfortably settled into practice when he felt Kanna's footsteps in the hall. He wondered if Katara had ever mentioned his seismic sense to her grandmother, if Kanna knew she was as good as announcing herself simply by entering the room. She either knew or didn't care because she didn't speak, approaching the front of the room slowly and steadily. Aang had brought the Air Acolytes here before so the shrine room was already laid out to accommodate a small group. Kanna seated herself on the cushion beside his.

"May I join you?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied. After a moment of silence he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. Kanna sat with her knees bent, back straight, hands on her shins to support her posture. Her gaze was soft and unfocused, directed toward the shrine. His brow furrowed slightly.

"Have you done this before?" he asked.

"Oh, this is pretty much how old people pass the time, you know," she joked. He grinned and she went on, "The Southern Water Tribe has a celebrated history of contemplative traditions."

"Really?" he asked, surprised no one had ever mentioned this to him. She glanced at him and smiled.

"Have my grandchildren ever taken you ice fishing?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "No."

She nodded, returning her attention to the front of the room, "I think you would enjoy it. We'll go together sometime."

"I'm a vegetarian," he reminded her.

"Well, I won't tell anyone if you throw them back," she replied.

Still smiling, Aang closed his eyes and returned to his formal posture.

He had sat in this room with other people plenty of times over the course of the last few years. With the Acolytes, even with Katara, sometimes. There was a sense of nervous tension during those sessions, of expectation. People receiving meditation instruction often worried that they were doing it incorrectly, that they could somehow fail at this, in a definitive way. The energy was much different with Katara's grandmother in the room. Comfortable. It felt like the old days, a little, and he felt himself letting go of tension he hadn't even been aware he was carrying. She was good company. They sat for a while, nearly an hour, which was longer than Aang had intended to practice that evening.

Katara's sense of relief at being with her family again was palpable, but she seemed especially happy to see her grandmother. They'd taken over the sparse kitchen and spent a great deal of time in the common area together, talking. It seemed Kanna was always working on some project, sewing usually. He'd happened upon them once, early in the day, about a week after they first arrived. Kanna was sitting on a low bench and Katara was seated on the floor while her grandmother braided her hair. Katara was trying to tell her a story but she was giggling so much she could barely get the words out. She was sleeping better, too.

Aang took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "I'm glad you're here, Kanna," he said.

She reached over and patted his knee, "So am I," she said.

He gave her a sidelong glance, "Will you sit with me again tomorrow?"

She smiled, "I would be delighted."

xXXx

It was still dark.

Her sleep had been interrupted after only a couple of hours, but Katara was alert. She sat up in bed, pillows propping her up. Outside, rain was falling. Aang slept beside her, all sprawling limbs tangled in the sheets. He lay on his stomach, his face mashed into the pillows. Her eyes trailed inevitably to the scar on his back and she sighed, involuntarily. He had spent the afternoon in the moon peach orchard with Sokka and Hakoda, sparring. Although he displayed his bruises for her with undisguised pride over dinner, he'd permitted her to work on a particularly nasty looking one on his thigh before they went to bed.

Katara let her hands rest on her belly as she gazed out the window. If she reached out with her senses she could feel the droplets of water as they pooled on the balcony. She imagined walking outside, face upturned, letting the water fall onto her skin. The clumsy, self-taught exercises from her childhood came to mind: pulling tiny quantities of water from the ocean, struggling to hold them still long enough to freeze. She wanted so badly back then to harness her bending, to turn her abilities into something she could use to help her people, to make them proud of her. The rain grew louder as it fell harder. She thought of her mother. The baby moved inside of her.

A contraction gripped her and she closed her eyes, waiting for it to pass.

There was no rush. Her water had not broken yet and the contraction that woke her was almost an hour ago now. She readjusted the pillows pressed against the small of her back. Aang stirred and turned his head, looking up at her with bleary eyes. His brow furrowed slightly.

"You okay?" he mumbled. His voice was low and drowsy.

"Sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to wake you."

He rolled over and sat up, groggy and rubbing his eyes. He leaned over and kissed her on the temple, then rested against the headboard, yawning.

"You having trouble sleeping?" he asked. He reached over almost absently to rub the expanse of her belly between her hands.

She smiled faintly, looking down at her stomach, "You could say that. I'm having contractions."

His fingers tensed against her, "When did they start?" he asked.

"About an hour ago," she said. He shifted on the bed to sit facing her, now alert and fully awake.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, frowning.

She smiled reassuringly, "We have time." He started to respond and she talked right over him, "I wanted to let you get as much rest as possible because I am really going to need you later. Honestly, I was kind of hoping to get back to sleep myself but I don't think it's going to happen."

He took a deep breath, digesting this. Finally he asked, "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing."

He narrowed his eyes skeptically and she laughed, shaking her head.

"Really. Nothing. All we do now is wait." She took his hand and kissed his knuckles, "Just lay here with me and let's enjoy the last of our time alone together."

Still not entirely convinced, he slid his arm across her shoulders, rubbing her arm.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said, her voice soft. "These last couple of weeks have been so great." She hesitated and said, "I told Gran I want you to see the baby first, when it's born."

This shift in the conversation was so abrupt Aang didn't respond right away. He tilted his head to look at her, brow knit in confusion. Katara had been unable to explain this desire completely even to herself. She only knew that the gesture felt important, as important as the decision for the baby to be born here, in the temple. She leaned into him and closed her eyes.

"I know no one could ever replace your people," she murmured. His arm tightened around her and she sighed. "I need you to know it's okay to hope, you know?" She worried at the inside of her lower lip a little with her front teeth. "It's okay for you to admit you don't want to be alone any more."

He kissed the top of her head and nodded into her hair.

"I love you," he whispered, and his voice was husky. She twined her fingers in his and laid their hands on her belly.

"I love you, too," she replied.

xXXx

Katara had been pushing for nearly an hour now. She'd moved around the room, pacing, lying down for a while, then leaning over the edge of the bed. Now that she was close, she squatted over a couple of towels. She had stripped down to nothing but the bindings on her chest and was breathing slowly in through her nose and out her mouth. Kanna had twisted her hair up and out of the way for her.

Aang was on his knees in front of her, sitting back on his heels while she braced herself against him, holding his shoulders. Her eyes were closed and Aang smoothed her hair back from her sweaty forehead, watching her. She was remarkably quiet. Kanna rubbed her back between contractions.

They'd spent hours walking the temple when her labor first began, just the two of them. It was late and they didn't bother waking anyone, just wandered the halls and talked. Aang lit the way with a small flame in his palm, though he navigated the temple mostly from memory. The rain stopped and they were standing on a balcony looking out at the mountains around them when her water finally broke, at which point they made their way back to their room. While Katara stripped off her wet clothes, Aang went to wake Kanna.

"You're almost there," Kanna was saying.

It was warm in the room and her palms were damp on his bare shoulders. Her pushes now were punctuated with soft grunts that clenched down into low, weak moans. Aang wondered whether she was even aware she was making these sounds, there was something so raw and vulnerable about them. He wished there was something he could do other than hold her up. Surely there was something he should say? He didn't know what. He focused on her breathing. It was growing more rapid and shallow.

"Katara," he whispered, "breathe."

She let out a desperate whimper and fear shot through him so sharply it was like pain.

"I'm so tired," she murmured.

Aang swallowed down the helpless little sound that almost escaped him. He looked past her, to Kanna crouched behind her. They made eye contact for a moment and Kanna glanced up toward Katara's face before returning her attention to the floor between her feet.

"Katara," he repeated, his voice firm but still low, "breathe."

She opened her eyes finally and looked into his. He took a deep breath in through his nose and she mirrored him, blowing it out slowly. When she'd steadied herself again he pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

"You are so much stronger than this moment," he said.

Katara took another slow, deep breath. She nodded, straightened and licked the sweat from her upper lip. Her gaze was unfocused and inward. It was the same look he saw in her eyes before sparring, in the moments when she was preparing to fight. He gripped her upper arms.

She pushed with her next contraction, her eyes squeezed shut, and it seemed this was never going to happen. Kanna whispered encouragement that Aang barely registered. The baby's head emerged by degrees, first a thatch of dark, slick hair, then a pair of ears. Katara gasped and took a deep breath, her fingernails digging into his skin. He looked into her face again as she began her final push.

There was an energy radiating through the room, through her. It reminded him of the Avatar State, a little, a vibration and tension that stretched the boundary between two worlds. The Avatar State always felt muddled, the energy of his past lives swirled through it, brushing against his awareness. This felt clean and single-minded and seemed to draw in on itself as Katara let out a cry of effort that softened into relief.

There was a fourth person in the room, suddenly.

The baby slid out of her all at once, it seemed, into a towel and Kanna's waiting, capable hands. Katara opened her eyes to meet his and sagged forward, her forehead on Aang's shoulder, arms around his neck. He rose up slightly to better support her, sliding his arms around her, against her sweaty skin. Kanna stood, having already snipped the umbilical cord, and went to the nearby table. Aang closed his eyes.

"You're amazing," he whispered in Katara's ear. He listened to the sound of her breathing, a little labored but steady and deep. He opened his eyes, about to speak again, when the shrill, sharp cries of the newborn across the room cut him off. Katara let out a little gasp and then Aang wasn't sure whether she was laughing or sobbing. She held him as tightly against herself as she could manage for a moment before she pulled away to sit back on her heels. Aang cupped her face and kissed her once, then again. She leaned against the foot of the bed, massaging her abdomen gingerly.

"I'm okay," she managed. He hesitated against leaving her kneeling on the floor. She looked exhausted but gave a weak smile. "Go," she said.

He nodded and stood, wiping his sweating palms on his pants.

The dreams and the visions, the hope and the fear; none of it had prepared him. He and Katara had talked about it, countless times, what this moment would be like. None of it had seemed quite real to him until now. Their child had been an idea, beneath Katara's flesh and blood. He crossed the room and it was like someone else's legs were carrying him.

Kanna turned to face Aang, the baby wrapped in a blanket in her arms. The old woman smiled down at the newborn, stroking its cheek with one of her knobbly knuckles. She glanced up at Aang as he approached, staring at the tiny bundle in her arms. He felt strangely fragile and swallowed, hesitating. She looked down at the baby again, and in a quiet voice that would not carry across the room, she spoke.

"Aren't you lucky, little one," she said, "to have such a brave father." She looked up at Aang with a reassuring smile. As she passed the baby to him, into his outstretched hands, she said, "This is your son."

Aang let out a shaky breath, cradling the baby carefully against his chest. He looked down into the little face, at the eyes squeezed shut. He'd stopped crying and was making tiny, almost frustrated-sounding noises. They had already chosen names months ago and Aang realized he could greet his son properly. He licked his lips and swallowed.

"Hello, Bumi," he said softly.

The baby opened his eyes and looked up at him and Aang's breath caught in his chest. His eyes were bright and blue and so unmistakably Katara's eyes. He felt the tears rising in his throat and swallowed, convulsively, biting his lower lip to try in vain to stop them. Kanna was helping Katara into bed. Her grandmother kissed her on the forehead, then gathered the towels from the floor.

"I'll go and tell the others you're all right," she said, "I'll be back in a little while." She left the room.

Aang stood where Kanna had left him. He was elated and relieved, but beneath it all there was a gnawing sense of guilt.

He had felt guilty a number of times during Katara's pregnancy. Guilty over his own expectations at times, but mostly he'd felt guilty over the burden the rest of the world would be placing on their children. That they had already, before there were even lives to rest them on. He crossed the room slowly and sat on the bed beside Katara. Without speaking, he passed the baby to her, into her arms. Once his hands were free he wiped at his cheeks. She bent to kiss the tiny forehead, his nose. Katara's tears were still flowing unchecked and he laid his arm gently across her shoulders.

"He has your eyes," he pointed out, his voice low and wobbly. Katara gave a weak laugh and nodded.

"He really does," she murmured, stroking Bumi's cheek with her knuckles.

"He looks like you," Aang whispered in her ear. He tried to blink away fresh tears but they ran down his cheeks, instead. Katara shifted to turn toward him, the baby between them, to look into his eyes.

"What is it?" she asked.

He sighed, swiping at his face with the back of his hand again, "He's so small and he has your eyes," he said. He didn't think he could put into words what was gripping him now, the fierce desire to protect the helpless life in her arms. For years now, Katara had been the person he would have sacrificed the most for, to keep her safe. Now he was looking at a tiny, defenseless version of her and they all felt so exposed. It was like someone had reached into his chest and was holding his heart in their hands. At last he said, "Everyone is asking so much of him already. It doesn't seem fair."

Katara's eyes filled with tears and she leaned forward to kiss him. She pressed her forehead to his.

"You know," she whispered, "I thought that about someone once, too."