Zuko groaned as he picked a tiny shirt from the stack in front of him. He held it up and pretended to examine the seams, checked the material. He knew little and less about clothing or its construction, but it seemed to be well made. It was…cute. It was similar to a shirt that he had, only much, much smaller. Smaller for a tiny human. Zuko took a deep breath and let it out slowly, folding the tiny garment with shaking hands. Maybe he wouldn't be so nervous if he didn't have a shop full of people watching him and whispering behind their hands. Maybe he wouldn't be so nervous if the entire capitol wasn't covered in red and blue streamers and flowers and candles, if the palace wasn't flooded with hundreds of similar shirts, pants, shoes, dresses, blankets, socks, hats, gloves, coats, well wishes and prayers. Maybe he would feel less nervous if he hadn't been receiving gifts from diplomats and dignitaries. Maybe he would feel less nervous if he could take two steps without getting advice from one well meaning person or another telling him the best way to ensure a boy or a girl, to make sure there was a smooth birth, or that the baby would be a firebender. Maybe he would feel less nervous if the baby wasn't due any day.

Katara was pregnant, and she could have their baby any moment.

Panic settled in the pit of his stomach with the next breath, and Zuko had a distinct feeling that he would pass out if he didn't get out of this shop. Suddenly, everything was too close, too closed in, the aisles too narrow, too many clothes, too many tiny things. Zuko turned and walked right into someone. He tried to apologize and make an excuse, but his ears were ringing, and he couldn't be sure that he was actually saying anything, and he was so incredibly hot. Through the haze, he could barely hear a familiar voice as a strong arm wrapped around his shoulder, guiding him outside and helping him to a bench in the shade.

"Breathe," Hakoda said, with a light laugh. "That's it. Deep breaths."

Zuko groaned. "Well, I just made a fool of myself…"

"Well, I wouldn't say that."

Hakoda rubbed his back, and Zuko did his best to relax, focusing on his breathing as the panic receded and he felt more normal."

"Have you ever just…realized you have no idea what you're doing?"

At this, Hakoda out and out laughed, doubling over. It was contagious, and Zuko found himself smiling before the laughter bubbled out of him, too. If he was honest, that was a silly question to ask a man who went to war then came home and realized that he didn't know his children. A silly question for a man whose son was quickly replacing him as chief and whose daughter ruled a nation that was once the most hated in the world. Feeling a little more relaxed, Zuko leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes, trying to focus on the nice cool breeze with just a hint of rain in the air.

"They were waiting to see if I would pick something red or blue," Zuko said. "I don't even think people are concerned if it'll be a boy or a girl. They're too busy trying to see if the baby will wear Fire Nation or Water Tribe clothes."

"I imagine they don't know what to argue about," Hakoda said. "Your entire reign has been everything but normal."

They sat in silence, watching the people pass by them, and Zuko couldn't help but smile. Hakoda couldn't have been more different from his uncle, and yet, both men shared the shame warmth and love for their families. It was easy to think that Hakoda was distant from his children, but in those early days at the Western Air Temple during the war, Zuko quickly realized that Hakoda just took a more hands off approach than his uncle did. He'd always respected his children's independence, but Hakoda was always there, just behind them, waiting to catch them if they stumbled. He'd been there to catch Zuko on more than one occasion, too, for which he was immensely grateful. In fact, he'd sort of adopted the whole lot of them.

"I've never held an infant before," Zuko blurted.

Hakoda shrugged. "Most people haven't until they've had their own kids."

"What if I do it wrong?"

"Then we'll show you the right way."

"What if I drop the baby?"

"Believe me, you are not going to drop your baby."

"What if…what if I scare her?"

Zuko whispered this last question, his face turned slightly away from Hakoda. It had been a thought in the back of his mind since he'd first felt the baby move and this whole thing became real. He tried to pretend that his heart wasn't racing and his face wasn't red as he waited for Hakoda to tell him that the baby would just get used to it, that eventually his child wouldn't be scared of him. He waited with dread in the pit of his stomach because, once again, he was in way over his head.

"Zuko…"

Hakoda's voice was soft and comforting, and he put his arm around Zuko's shoulder, squeezing him once before letting go. He sighed heavily, and was quiet while he thought.

"When I first held Sokka," Hakoda said quietly, "I was…terrified. Happy, but terrified. It's hard to explain. Kya had known him for nine months before then, and when she first held him, it was like meeting an old friend for her. She'd carried him inside of her, and sometimes I would see her talking to him before he was even born. It was beautiful, and I loved her for it. My bonding didn't start, couldn't start until I held him."

Zuko watched Hakoda from the corner of his eye. He was looking at his hands, but he was smiling slightly, thinking back to when his life was so completely different. Zuko could count on one hand all times Hakoda had ever talked about Kya, and it almost felt rude to be listening to him recall such a tender memory, now. When Hakoda smiled at him, though, Zuko found that he was immensely grateful that it was Hakoda, and not his uncle, who'd rescued him from the shop. He loved his uncle dearly, but Iroh was prone to romancing such joyous occasions. Hakoda couldn't have been more different. He'd always been a careful man, one who considered his words, and very rarely did he embellish things the way Iroh did.

"Birth is messy," Hakoda said with a laugh. "There are lots of things coming out of lots of places, and you may find yourself wishing you didn't see what you just saw. When they're first born, babies are wet and sticky and covered with stuff, and their faces are all squished. But, when you start to wash them off…"

Hakoda's smile slowly grew, and he held his hands out in front of him, palms up, as if he was holding an infant. Briefly, Zuko wondered what it would have been like if Hakoda had been his father. How much easier would his life have been? How much more joyous?

"The first time he opened his eyes and he looked at me," Hakoda whispered, "I knew he'd have me wrapped around his finger. He seemed so small and fragile, and… I just loved him. Then you start to see all the little bits of you in them. I mean, it's kind of hard when they're just born and still soft and kind of squishy—by the way, don't squeeze them, they don't like that and Kya yelled at me for doing it—it's kind of hard to immediately see yourself, but it's not actually finding them that matters."

Truth be told, Zuko was just as excited as he was nervous. He'd thought about just that moment Hakoda described. What it would be like to hold the baby for the first time, how she would feel, how light or how heavy she would be. What color her eyes would be. Whether she'd look more like him or Katara. Or a mix of both of them. Still, he couldn't help but be worried about the kind of father he'd be. It wasn't like his family had the best record.

"I should be getting back," Zuko said, standing.

"Honestly, I'm surprised that you've been away this long. "

"Gran made me leave. She said I was smothering Katara."

Hakoda laughed and slapped his back a few times as they headed back toward the palace. With Hakoda next to him, Zuko didn't mind as much when people offered congratulations and well wishes and advice as they made their way back to the palace. And even the specter of this last ordeal, this greatest test to see just how much he would or wouldn't follow in his father's footsteps didn't haunt him as much. He felt a distinct certainty that he would, without a doubt, be better than his father. He did already love his little pup, be he'd seen Katara talking to her in the same way Hakoda had described. He'd always felt like he was interrupting a conversation, and would wait politely until Katara was done, even though she would always tell him he didn't have to do that.

"So, you guys think you're having a girl?" Hakoda asked, breaking Zuko out of his thoughts.

"She thinks so," he said with a shrug and a smile. "I'm happy so long as she and our little pup are healthy."

Their wide smiles only grew when a messenger almost tripped over himself in an effort to not run past him. Zuko and Hakoda didn't even need to hear the message to know what it was about. The bells in the fire temple were ringing, and a great fire was being lit as they followed the messenger back to the palace. Several hurried Fire Sages crossed their path, bowing low before they continued on to the temple.

Every step he took toward his wife filled Zuko with excitement and a confidence that, finally, he could break a cycle that Sozin had started. As he neared the birthing room, Zuko found himself walking faster and faster. He knew it would be a long wait still before he got to meet the baby, but he couldn't help it. Even as Hakoda laughed and told him to save some of his energy for the long night ahead of him, he couldn't help thinking that this was it.

By sunrise, he had his baby, and she was beautiful and she was perfect, and Zuko wasn't the slightest bit worried about dropping her. He held onto her tightly, and Katara fussed at him for squeezing the baby, and Hakoda laughed and said that he'd told Zuko, but they secretly held her tightly and she burped, and it was beautiful and perfect, and Zuko never worried that she would be afraid of him, and Katara basically had to pry her from his hands so she could feed their little pup.

And when he saw those beautiful golden eyes looking at him, he thought more of his mother's love than his father's, and when she fell asleep in his arms, he promised her the world.