Author's Note: I had begun to write an author's note, but I found that it got excessively long-winded. So rather than include it here, I have written and posted it on the drunkzutarafeels blog. If you wish to read it, the author's note is available there. But you might just be better off not reading my rambling. It is entirely your choice.

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Sometimes true clarity was something that could only come from someone else.

Zuko saw her sitting by the pond with her toes dangling in the water. The sky was clear from clouds that night, letting the moonlight reflect off the water to shine on her face. But when she turned and smiled at him, her smile beamed brighter than the moon or the sun ever could.

"Hey, Zuko."

"Hi, Katara."

Katara patted the other side of the moss-covered rock on which she was already seated. They both knew Zuko was already headed to that spot, but old habits die hard.

"Well, that one took a bit longer than usual."

Zuko began to walk towards Katara and responded with a bit of laughter coloring the tone of his voice.

"It would have been shorter if you were there."

"By that you mean I always get to the point instead of listening to the sound of my own voice."

Zuko smiled. There was no need for him to nod or say "yes" for Katara to know he agreed.

Any meeting at which Katara was present would always end earlier. But being the ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe meant she could only be present at meetings relevant to the nation she represented. It irritated Katara and it irritated Zuko even more, but she had to keep to her position and he had to keep to his, even if they both wanted her to be there.

But Katara was still there. She lived in the palace. That was not a requirement for any person who was an ambassador to any nation. The multiple representatives of the Earth Kingdom and the two representatives of the Northern Water Tribe lived comfortably in the capital city of the Fire Nation. The excuse for Katara's residency in the palace was that she had no income to purchase her own home. She was not a landholder who could collect taxes and she did not own any private industries from which she could collect profits. Being a woman made obtaining such sources of income more than difficult and being the only woman ambassador made many individuals less than inclined to grant her a loan to purchase property or other investments that could give her a single shred of nonpolitical influence within the Fire Nation. Katara could have had a salary like the rest of the ambassadors, but she refused to let Zuko pay her. She insisted she did not need any salary when she had her own rent-free rooms in the palace.

But Katara needed nothing more than to be with him. Just as much Zuko needed to be with her.

Zuko reached his clearly intended destination and sat down next to Katara. They both fell into their usual habit, her tilting her head into his shoulder and him resting his head on the top of hers. He reached out to hold her hand even as she moved her own to hold his.

Because Katara loved him. Just as Zuko loved her.

She had been the ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe for more than two years by now, but Katara and Zuko had loved each other even before that. Maybe his choice to appoint her as the Southern Water Tribe ambassador made it a little obvious. Maybe her living in the palace made it very obvious. But even though she was only seventeen at the time of her appointment as ambassador, it was completely obvious that Katara would be the best representative of her people and nation.

Katara was the daughter of the chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Katara did have an elder brother, Sokka, but he was not quite suited to hold the position, or, to be more candid, he was too involved with his wife, Suki, to actually bother with almost anything else. The fact that the young man, who had hardly committed to anything in life, had committed to a marriage at age eighteen only made it more obvious that he could commit to only Suki. And knowing Suki, she would not have Sokka as her husband in any other way.

Katara was committed to her duties as an ambassador. She was committed to representing the Southern Water Tribe. She was committed to advocating about the things that really mattered.

And Katara was still more committed to him. Just as Zuko was committed to her.

Katara and Zuko both knew their commitment to each other was a commitment that would last for the rest of their lives. It had not been announced to the world, but it did not need to be. Katara was nineteen and Zuko was twenty-one. There were still many things to be done to protect the peace in the world that was still not entirely stable. But their relationship was stable. That would never change. They did not need to be married to set in stone to the world what was already set in stone with each other.

Silence was usual enough between them, but Katara could tell there was something more to this silence. Just as it always was, it was clear to her that something was bothering Zuko. He was not frowning or sighing. He was simply staring out across the pond. But Katara knew him well enough to know that something was weighing on his mind. She had to ask the question.

"What's wrong, Zuko?"

Zuko frowned and sighed. He leaned into Katara and answered her.

"I miss the turtleducks."

Zuko felt Katara's cheek expand with some kind of expression. She may have been smiling or she may have been frowning, but it did not matter to him when she squeezed his hand.

"Why do you think they left?"

"The palace was practically on fire, Katara."

Katara would have chuckled if she had not already known what look Zuko had on his face.

"I remember that, Zuko. I was there. But that was five years ago."

"It doesn't matter how long ago it was. The mother turtleduck led her turtleducklings out of here."

"And once that happens they don't come back?"

"Not unless she brings them back. Which I doubt she will. But I don't blame her. What mother in her right mind would stay in a place like this?"

Katara realized Zuko was not talking about the turtleducks anymore. She tipped her head to nestle it further into his shoulder.

"Are you thinking about your mother again, Zuko?"

Katara could always see right through Zuko. Maybe that should be something he ought to hate, but her ability to read every gesture he made, every expression he formed, and every sentence he uttered only made him love her even more.

"Yeah."

"Your mom is not a turtleduck."

"I know that, Katara."

"She'll come back, Zuko."

Zuko sighed. He could not help but doubt the idea that his mother would be found or would come back to the Fire Nation. He had spent five years searching for her without a single lead. He did not know if he would ever find her.

"You don't know that, Katara."

"Yes I do. I'm always right. You should know that by now, you idiot."

Zuko turned his head to bury it in Katara's hair and let out a tiny laugh. But his laugh was a hollow one. He stared at their intertwined hands. He knew Katara's hand well by now. He knew the smooth softness of the skin that covered that hand. He knew the way every bone and tendon rippled under the skin of that hand. More importantly he knew how it felt to hold that hand and how that hand felt like it fit perfectly in his own. Zuko squeezed her hand and spoke again.

"I do. But I just don't think I really want her to come back."

That hand sharply ripped out of Zuko's grasp. The owner of that hand spoke even more sharply.

"What?"

Zuko only realized what his choice of words conveyed when turned to Katara and saw the heat in her eyes and heard the icy tone in her voice.

"At least you still have a mother to think that about, Zuko."

Katara sharply stood up and began to walk out of the courtyard. She could not help but take Zuko's words personally. Maybe Katara could not fully understand Zuko's relationship with his mother, but Katara knew Zuko had learned a great deal about her relationship with her own mother. Zuko had been with Katara on her journey to find her mother's killer. He had proposed the idea. He had helped her pursue the truth. He had risked so much to help her find that closure she wanted and needed. Katara had spoken to Zuko about all that had happened with her mother on that horrible day.

Zuko clearly knew that horror too. Even when she had still thought of him as her enemy, Zuko had told Katara how he understood the loss of a mother in the caves below Ba Sing Se. Katara could not fathom Zuko's hesitation when she would have done absolutely anything to see her mother just one more time.

When the tears began to burn her eyes and blur her vision, Katara walked even faster. She was not afraid to cry in front of Zuko. She simply did not want his guilt and apologies to be directed at her. She instead wanted him to feel guilty and apologetic about how he had even slightly considered the idea of not wanting to see his mother again.

Fighting was perhaps a far too natural occurrence between Katara and Zuko. Fighting was a part of their nature. But the nature of every fight they had was that it was always somehow unnaturally able to resolve itself with mutual forgiveness because that evidently unnatural forgiveness was essentially natural for them. That was the nature of their relationship. It was the simple truth of how they naturally worked.

Only Katara knew that truth about him. Just as much as only Zuko knew that truth about her.

But this time, Katara did not want Zuko's apologies. She wanted him to sit and stew until he realized the words did not hurt her nearly so much as she thought they would have hurt his mother. Maybe Zuko's mother would not blame him for his words. But Katara wanted Zuko to blame himself for those words at least long enough for him to feel apologetic about the words themselves instead of feeling apologetic about the reaction of the person to whom he had said them.

Zuko made no attempt to yell out Katara's name or beg her to stay. He simply got up and ran to stop her. Zuko knew just how terrible he was with words. He knew just how detrimental his tendency for speaking before thinking was every single time he opened his mouth. But Katara had taught Zuko just how capable action was of communicating so much more than speech and thought ever could.

Zuko made no motion to reach out to grab Katara's arm when he knew she would only pull that arm away from him. Instead he ran immediately in front of her and reached forward to hold Katara's face in both of his hands. Katara ripped her head out of his hands and continued to walk, but Zuko only let her walk into him and pressed his top of his forehead to her own. His empty hands wove themselves into her hair instead. He did not tilt her head upwards to meet his eyes. He instead bent his head further down towards hers and closed his own eyes.

Katara and Zuko remained silent for a few moments. Her hands released from the tight fists she had held at her sides and rose up behind his back to tightly grip his shoulders and hold him to her frame instead. Zuko breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Katara had accepted the apology he had not needed to utter.

Zuko moved his hands again to hold Katara's face and bent his head further down, pressing his nose into her cheek alongside her own nose. He used the gesture to gently nudge her head up. He did want to kiss her, but he wanted to feel her breath ghost over his face much more.

There were still times in his life when Zuko could not believe a woman like Katara actually existed in this world. It should not be believable that a woman like her could exist in any world that also had a man like him in it. It should not be believable that a woman like her could exist at all.

But somehow a man like him and a woman like her existed in the same world. Maybe that could be believable. But a man like him and a woman like her sharing a private little world in which they existed together could be nothing but completely unbelievable.

But "could" and "should" would never hold any power over what was or was not truly believable when what could be or should be were not what truly was. And whether it was believable or not, everything about that woman and that man was true.

Truly Katara was that woman. Just as much as Zuko truly was that man.

He was that man who had chased her, hurt her, and betrayed her. And still she was that woman who had forgiven him, respected him, and loved him.

Whether anyone else could believe it or not, all of those parts of their pasts and their personalities were what both separately and together made them whole.

But a part of Zuko felt he knew that he would always be broken. He knew that parts of him had splintered internally with the events and circumstances that had happened over the course of his life. But he felt that some parts had been missing entirely for as long as he could remember living. Zuko felt like he was full of holes and cracks that seemed impossible to fill.

Yet he knew Katara could still make them whole. She could make him whole. She could bring together the shattered pieces and fill in the voids, not with illusion, but with truth. Given the chance, Katara could heal almost any wound. She was indubitably a master waterbender and there was practically no physical injury she could not heal. But she could heal so much more than that. She could heal not just the wounds on the surface, but also the wounds underneath it. And that is what Katara did for Zuko.

Zuko knew he would always have missing parts, broken pieces, and gaping voids in him. But he also knew Katara would never add to that. She would not go missing, she would not break him, and she would never leave him behind with a void in her place. It was a dangerous thing for Zuko to let himself unequivocally trust in anything being certain. He was so afraid to trust in the idea of certainty as even being a possibility when that trust had proven to be false so many times before. Zuko feared trust itself.

But despite everything his life had contained and all it would contain in the future, Zuko knew his life would always contain Katara in it. He knew he could trust in that just as much as he could trust in her. That was as clear to him as the as her face had looked in the bright moonlight. Zuko knew Katara's love would always be the one thing he could always trust in.

Zuko still could not quite fathom how that could be true, but he still knew Katara would always be true. Katara was true to her word, true to her will, and true to him. Katara was truth itself. And with his past being so thoroughly wrought with lies and deceit, Zuko truly could never be more grateful for anything else.

Katara felt Zuko practically shaking in her arms. She moved her hands from his shoulders to rest on top of his own hands, which still held her face, and wove her fingers between his own. She kept Zuko's hands on her cheeks as she pulled away from his forehead just enough to kiss the tip of his nose. Katara ran her thumbs along his wrists, waiting for him to open his eyes and speak the thoughts she knew were stumbling over each other in his mind.

Zuko took a deep breath before he opened his eyes. He saw Katara's small smile and almost whispered his next words.

"I do want to see my mother again, Katara. I just don't if I want her to come back to a place that is so full bad memories for her. She suffered so much here. Why would she ever want to come back?"

"Zuko, please. You're her son. She would come back for you. She will come back for you. I know she will. And I am always right."

"But what if you're not this time?"

"What did I just say, Zuko?"

"That I'm an idiot?"

"Clearly."