You don't remember the last time you fought outside of a sparring match. Or rather, you do (ten years, five months, an Earth Empire general unwilling to let Kuvira's dream die) but it feels like it belongs to another life. You are fairly certain your younger self would be horrified with you. There have been no dramatic confrontations over the fate of the world, no villains only you can slay.

There are meetings, sometimes tense, between Earth Federation states over resource rights or the military budget. You swallow the urge to strangle both representatives and guide them to a compromise. They listen to you, mostly. Not because you're the Avatar and could level them without breaking a sweat. Because they trust you to be impartial and honest.

There are nights after a mine has collapsed. You spend hours heaving through the rubble to reach the dozen trapped miners. Nothing any earthbender couldn't do, but you are an earthbender and present. Afterwards, you run water over their bodies and expel smoke and dust from their lungs. You save one woman's left leg. She throws her arms around you, feebly, praising the spirits and the ancestors.

And then there are nights like this one.

You creep into Eri's bedroom. She's sitting up in bed, clearly sleepy but equally clearly unwilling to go to sleep before she sees you. Asami sits by the bed. You kiss your wife, marveling again at how lucky you are that this is your life.

"How was Ember Island?" she asks with a smile.

"Hot. You two are totally coming with me next time. I think it's time someone learned how to build sandcastles from a master."

"You mean Uncle Bolin?"

You clutch your chest theatrically and stagger backwards. Asami hides her smile behind her hand. "I'm shocked, shocked, that you don't consider me a master."

"Mom…"

You pull your little family into a hug. Because that's what being the Avatar is. Preventing wars. Saving lives. Giving an orphan a home. Grafting them into your life until you can hardly tell where you end and they begin. The Avatar is the moments of unexpected grace, the small miracles, that bring life instead of death and allow people to shape their own futures.

And you think you can deal with that just fine.