Disclaimer: I… actually… own the rights to this story. However, Avatar belongs to Nickelodeon Studios and its creators Mike and Bryan. (sigh)

Author's Notes: Don't kill me. Please. I want to LIVE. D: But first, I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed my other stories, including some wonderful regulars! These include Pheonee, AvatarAiris, Sokka's Fan-Lawyer, and the ever-present Miyiku. This one's for you guys. (: And yes, I know I'm supposed to be working on my other projects. But I decided to take a break and write something semi-romantic and outside my usual pairing triangle (I call them the "Canon Trilogy").


Together


"Love is patient, love is kind.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.

It is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails."

-I Corinthians 13: 4-8


No one thought this day would come.

The Avatar was dead.

Not four years after the end of the war, Avatar Aang had been murdered in cold blood. All it had taken was one stray arrow, one moment of not paying attention, one second for the barbed-wire tip to enter his heart, and the sixteen-year-old was dead. Today was his memorial service.

Friends, family, and many of his admirers gathered together for the occasion. It was difficult for Aang's closest friends to wrap their young minds around the concept—the Avatar, their closest companion, wasn't coming back. It wasn't their fault, though; nothing had been able to save him. No Avatar powers. No magic water. Not even prayers or tears or bargaining with the Spirits.

The Avatar's young wife stood at the back of the crowd, obstinately refusing to be comforted by her friends. She couldn't bear to glance at her brother—his trembling jaw and white-knuckled grip told the whole story. They were his original friends; they were hurting the most.

Katara clenched her teeth and looked straight ahead; she would not let her sorrows get the best of her. She wouldn't.

A heavy-set, over-dressed man stood before an ornate casket. She shook her head. Aang wouldn't want to be seen in that. If he… if he were here, he would've laughed—the fancy designs, the inlaid gold leaf, the ornate inscriptions. They just weren't his style. She knew what he would've wanted (she was the one that knew him the best, after all)—she knew that Aang would've asked for Zuko to cremate him, then spread his ashes into the wind to be carried out to sea. He was always being romantic like that.

Katara touched her necklace. Her throat began to burn as fluffy, high-rising clouds calmly rode across the sky. Stupid clouds. Didn't they know today was a horrible day? The worst day of her life, actually. They should be turning gray with hopelessness and crying raindrops all over.

But they didn't. They let the unbearably hot sun continue to shine.

Her necklace. The one he gave her. Light blue, with beautiful and intricate designs carved into it. He was just trying to respect her cultural traditions.

She breathed heavily, hearing his name rush past her lips unchecked. The Water Tribe girl turned when her companion looked at her. Golden eyes narrowed into slits, firm jaw set to ward off trembling. But she could see through him. She always could. 'I'm sorry,' his eyes told her.

'Sorry isn't enough. Sorry can't bring him back.' Katara turned her back on Zuko as the man before the casket continued to talk. How great the Avatar was. How many good things he did in his short life. How they would all miss him.

You can't miss him, the woman thought between anger and bitter loneliness. You didn't even know him.

She suddenly caught Sokka's eye. His grip on his two female companions tightened—one his wife, the other his partner in crime. They shared a glance. In the beginning, it had just been the three of them. But now there were only two left. Yes, they had Toph, and Suki, and Zuko, but it wasn't the same. The siblings had discovered Aang in the iceberg, and the trio had set off on an adventure that seemed—at the time—nigh impossible. But they had done it.

Just the three of them.

She felt warm fingertips brush her arm. "It's over," he said. Had it been three hours already? Her lips trembled as she approached the place where her love had been buried. An expensive granite marker, carved by the world's best Earthbenders, had been placed above his head to mark the spot where he had been laid to rest. Softly, the Waterbender ran her dark fingers over the characters inscripted in the stone.

He didn't want this.

Aang was a plain, fun-loving fellow who would much rather ride hopping llamas and wild hog monkeys than be caught dead at a gala. A plain stone would have done the job. Or perhaps leave his grave unmarked, like the Air Nomads of old.

Katara felt the unwanted sorrow begin to well in her chest. It swirled up and consumed her, before finally finding escape. Crystalline tears dripped down her dark cheeks and mixed with sweat before dripping off her chin in a tiny waterfall. She took in great gasps of air to keep herself from completely breaking down—and because air was his element. She breathed him like she breathed oxygen, and suddenly, she couldn't get enough of it.

But her efforts were in vain. Her sorrows fell more quickly now, as tears began to pelt the ground faster and faster. The bright sun was still high in the sky. The woman tried to hold back her sobs, but she couldn't. She just ended up choking herself.

So the young Waterbender cried and doubled over, gripping her stomach. Tentatively, she placed a trembling hand over her belly. She couldn't lose this. It was all she had left of him.

--

Everyone expected her to do this. When her husband had died, everyone assumed that this was what she was going to do. Katara softly knocked on the fire lord's palace door. But instead of an overdressed servant to usher her in, a familiar face greeted her. "Zuko."

"I knew you would come," the Firebender said formally. His eyes held nearly the same amount of hurt and loss that hers did.

"Everyone expected it of me," she replied automatically. But her face was set in formality, icy blue eyes nearly empty of anything except 'duty.' There was no romance, no long-winded speeches about how much she loved him, no sudden realizations. There was just… nothing. Katara had lost too much to try to feel anymore. Zuko understood.

--

They were married a month later. The two companions exchanged their vows before the altar at two ceremonies—one at the fire lord's palace in the capital of the Fire Nation, and one at the South Pole, the bride's homeland. She gave him a golden ring, as was traditional in Fire Nation culture. But he gave her no betrothal necklace. Zuko knew she didn't want a new one. Not when she already had one.

Katara looked beautiful; she really did. She wore the same dress to both receptions—a traditional dark blue fitted dress with elegant fur trimmings and a bejeweled bodice. Zuko thought she looked absolutely stunning. Sokka nearly cried when he had to walk her down the aisle for a second time.

"I wish Dad could be here to see you," he said softly to her veiled face.

"As do I," she whispered. Her voice was small and still—not nearly what it used to be.

And then, all too suddenly, the new bride and groom kissed. Cheers arose from the crowd, but only a few knew what it meant. They could see. They knew. But everyone else only saw it as one thing—two opposing elements, finally uniting in peace.

The reception and honeymoon were lovely as well. Absolutely perfect. Katara lay on her back, chocolate hair released from its bindings and sprawled across the silk sheets. Still, she traced patterns in the bodice of her dress, right over her stomach. Zuko rested himself beside her. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too, Zuko," she replied. And she kissed him, as a sister would kiss her brother on the cheek.

--

Months passed, and still, the woman traced patterns over her abdomen. She and Zuko still kissed occasionally, the same way she would kiss Sokka when he came over to visit. The kisses were quick and chaste, usually on the cheek, but sometimes on the mouth—but nothing more than that. No sprouts of steam. No unexpected nights of passion. Yes, they slept in the same bed, but nothing ever came between the two. Katara could tell that she wasn't the woman he wanted. The woman Zuko saw had flowing ebony hair with slitted silver eyes and a one-of-a-kind smile.

And, she was sure, he could tell the same to her. Because every time she sighed—truly sighed, every time she snuggled closer to him, every time she truly, honestly, without a doubt fell in love… she was imagining someone else. Someone with a goofy smile and a heart of gold. Someone who could take a life with a flick of the wrist, or calm an argument with a raise of the hand.

One day, as Katara was bathing, Zuko accidentally walked in on her. Up until then, they had always been sure to never see each other naked. But now that it had actually happened, his face immediately lit up in a bright red. "Oh… I'm terribly sorry, Katara."

She looked at him with eyes that held nothing. "It's all right," she said evenly. "We're married now… or don't you remember?" The Waterbender's smile was almost playful. Almost.

The man nodded and joined her. The water was only waist deep. But then he noticed her body. "Oh… I didn't know…"

She looked confused. "What?" He was staring at her stomach. Oh. Her heart began to tremble. "Zuko, I'm so sorry… I should have told you."

The husband shook his head, spraying little water droplets all over her. "No. Don't be. I would have done the same."

Katara swallowed the lump in her throat. "Would you… would you like to— um…" Her question went unfinished, but it didn't matter. He was already reaching for her tummy, splaying warm, Firebender fingers over her caramel skin. Slowly, cautiously, awkwardly, pale fingers felt their way over the tiny bump. Breathing in and closing his amber eyes, the young lord could feel the life beating underneath his fingertips.

Liquid gold met solidified sapphire. He questioned, "You and Aang?"

"Yes," the woman replied, a genuine smile finally gracing her lips. "Aang." And she placed her hands over his, like she was afraid the life she held within her would disappear into nothingness. Just like he had done.

The Firebender knew he had to do that more often. Anything to make her smile. Anything to make her happy again.

Because that's what friends did.

--

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe could barely wrap her mind around the concept. Fire Lady Katara. It still sounded strange to her, even coming from her own lips. She knew she didn't want this. The red silk, the endless meetings, the congratulations—she would throw it all away in a second if it meant she could go to the Spirit World and see him again, even for just an instant. The young woman stood beside his marker, remembering. Just remembering. Not crying. Not feeling. Not loving. Not doing much of anything, really. Just… remembering. Him. And the short time they had spent together.

She sighed, sun-kissed fingers smoothly running over her carved betrothal necklace. Bliss.

A familiar voice greeted her. "How did I know you would be out here?" She turned to meet the face of her husband. He had quickly become her closest companion in the weeks and months following the worst day of her life.

She gave a small half-smile. "Because I'm just so predictable."

He chuckled and helped her up, giving her a small kiss on the nose as she passed by. "You are many things, my dear friend Katara, but you are definitely not predictable."

--

As the days passed, the life within Katara grew—so much so that it quickly became obvious, even through her heavy fur parkas and flowing silken robes. Unfortunately, so did the congratulations.

The fire lady was with child. Oh, how exciting—the first trans-cultural child born between two opposing elements since before the war. The entire world was practically atwitter at the news; the two were so lucky, they said, to be having a child together. It was such a grand occasion to see the healing relationship between Fire and Water finally solidified. It was an unbreakable bond, they said. The world would be in peace, and continue to live in such a way, forever.

Now Katara was no scholar, but even she knew that 'forever' could be a terrifyingly long time. She knew, because the woman faced it every time she realized that she could no longer spend the rest of her life with Aang. She had to live without him.

But Zuko knew. They had both learned to read each other. And he knew that she wasn't really living; his wife was just existing. Trying to survive a cruel world that had taken away her love far too early.

"I'll tell them right now," he told her one morning, grabbing her cold fingers in his warm ones. "I'll set them all straight. They need to know the truth right now."

She shook her head, dark ringlets of hair falling over her eyes. "Zuko… don't. The people wouldn't understand."

"Yes, they would," he insisted, light golden eyes turning dark with passion. "They would. I know my people. They will understand that you loved him with all of your heart, but more than that, they will understand that this changes nothing between the Fire Nation and Water Tribes."

And, slowly, reluctantly, the woman nodded and bowed her head, placing a hand beneath her swollen belly. She felt her child kick eagerly, and a true smile crossed her lips. "Tell them. Let the whole world know that I am with child, and that it is the Avatar's."

Fire Lord Zuko nodded eagerly and smiled back. The announcement was made that very day, less than three hours later.

Katara was very proud of her Firebender friend. And when he returned from his (surprising) announcement, the Waterbender quickly pulled him into the best hug she could muster, considering her extra weight. She told him how proud she was, and how happy she was to have him as her friend. Zuko hugged her back and told her the same. How he admired her for pressing on, even though she had lost the man she loved. But more than that, how she had promised to stick with him, even when he knew she didn't need to. She had no duty tying her to him. He wasn't forcing her to live a boring life in the Fire Nation; she chose it on her own, because she cared about her people, and she cared about him.

That's what friends did.

--

Katara's delivery came far too quickly. The couple was sitting beneath an aged oak tree, feeding the baby turtle ducks, when she suddenly felt a strange wetness beneath her legs. She had been feeling uncomfortable nearly all day, but this was just strange. But then, the contractions came. Wave after wave of heart-pounding, sweat-inducing AGONY that she could hardly bear to describe.

The palace herbalists had no time to take her to the infirmary for fear that she might accidentally give birth along the way. It was much too far away for her to walk, and carrying her was out of the question. She as in enough pain as it was. So they guided her to the turtle duck pond for a water birth.

Zuko was frantic. He wasn't sure what he should do. Three or more healers were already kneeling at the shallow end of the water with her, gripping her hands tightly and telling her to breathe. But all he could see was the look of pain and absolute terror on Katara's face; the dark chocolate tresses glued to her skin; the gasping breaths; and the shuddering cries of a woman in labor. Sokka and a few other friends of Katara's had come up earlier to be present for the birth of the child, so for the moment, Zuko decided to tell them about his wife's predicament.

Everyone took it… ah, fairly well.

Everyone except Sokka, that is.

Immediately, he flew to his feet and insisted that he get to see his sister. Suki tried to calm him down, but he just pulled away from her. The Firebender could see it in his eyes, though—Sokka needed to be there. She needed him.

So, quickly, the duo made their way to the garden where Katara was still panting and breathing heavily, clothes askew and soaking wet, air coming in breathy gasps. Sokka was by her side in an instant, sloshing through the surprisingly clean water to kneel by her side. The herbalist tried to shoo him away, but the Water Tribesman sent one glare her way that said, 'You just try to get between us.'

None of the other healers bothered him after that, either.

Zuko thought he was the most anxious man there. He sat beside Katara, opposite of Sokka, and gripped his wife's hand as if his life depended on it. And she oftentimes squeezed back, as the severity and intensity of her contractions increased with every moment.

Hours, it was. It was strange, though, he thought. This whole process began so quickly… so much so that Katara was giving birth in the turtle duck pond… but yet, it had been hours, at least, since she had begun contracting. He checked the position of the sun. Nineteen, actually.

The husband tried to calm himself, even as his wife screamed loudly and gripped his hand so hard he thought it would break. This was normal. Women usually took a long time giving birth, especially if it was their first child. Every baby came faster and faster after that. He was sure she was fine. Just fine.

It was when Zuko tried to wipe a straying lock of hair from her face that he realized how badly his hands were shaking. After that, he began to breathe slowly, regularly, to keep his heart rate normal. If he was calm, then so was she. Because they just worked that way.

Finally…

Finally.

Finally, the baby was born, kicking and screaming. The healers made sure his face was above the surface of the water before cutting the umbilical cord and rubbing the child vigorously with rough towels. Sokka was trembling as he wiped the sweat off of his and Katara's faces. His grip on her hand tightened even further. The baby began to cry loudly as he turned pink from all the rubbing and slapping from the healers.

And then… finally… the eldest of them offered the child to Zuko. "Your Highness." The young lord could do nothing but smile, even as the baby continued to wail.

His golden eyes were calm and solemn as he finally looked up to meet the eyes of his wife and brother-in-law. Carefully, and with trembling hands, he passed the child to his mother.

Katara eagerly took the bundle and sighed heavily, leaning back against the soft towels in sheer exhaustion. She pushed back the swaddling to get a better view of his face. Her baby's beautiful face. He had coal black hair and a pale, pinkish skin—the spitting image of his father. And Katara nearly cried when her boy finally stopped crying and opened up his eyes.

Slate gray.

"He's an Airbender," she exclaimed joyfully. She felt it. Katara felt it. For the first time since that day, she LIVED.

Sokka tilted his head to the side and scratched his chin, a little bit of that old playfulness finally returning to his demeanor. "How can you tell?"

The child suddenly sneezed and blew out a spray of air that violently disrupted the covers surrounding him. And then, he did something strange and amazing and beautiful all at once—he smiled. That same smile his father used to make. Katara replied tearfully, "Call it a mother's intuition."

Her brother chuckled sheepishly as Zuko offered him a punch on the arm.

Katara sighed as she snuggled down further into the water, wedging herself between her two favorite people. Yes, her heart would always be broken for the love that she had lost, but she had friends and family there with her every step of the way. She always had; she was just too blind to see them.

But now her eyes were opened. "You're a bender, you know it?" she cooed to the child. "The very last Airbender—just like your daddy." A crystalline tear rolled down her face. Not out of sadness, but out of sheer joy. Aang was gone, but her baby boy was just arriving.

Zuko rested a hand on her shoulder. He knew things would never be the same—not after Aang's death. But they were together as friends.

And maybe… just maybe… they had a chance of surviving as something more than that. Maybe.