It had been a long night. A really long night. It was early winter in the South Pole, when the sun only rose for a few hours each day, never seeming to lift more than a few feet off the horizon. It was a day long expected and hoped for by many, both living and dead. A day repeated over and over by every father who has ever lived.
For Avatar Aang, it was a day he'd honestly never thought about, until it was here, staring him in the face.
And he had absolutely no idea what to do.
Katara had been through this twice before, of course, but with both Kya and Bumi he had been off averting some crisis or other and had missed the actual birth. His position as the Avatar called him away from his family more often than he would like, often at horribly inconvenient times.
The small tornado that had been spinning about him for most of the night had finally died down, leaving the airbender pacing rapidly, wearing an ever-deeper worry line into the snow. Surely they should be done by now, he thought. How long did these things take anyway? How should he know, he'd been raised by celibate monks!
Katara's labor pains had begun early in the evening the night before. They'd been about to settle in for dinner with Sokka and Gran Gran when she had suddenly doubled over, clutching her stomach. With a single look the old woman confirmed it. Katara's water had broken, the baby was on its way.
Aang had very nearly had a panic attack right then and there. He and the others had been hastily shooed from the house, Sokka taking the children to stay the night at Grandpa Pakku's. Aang had lingered nervously on the porch until Kanna sent him off with instructions to "go boil water". However, when he had returned seconds later, having firebent a snow bank beside the house to a rolling boil, the ever-patient Gran Gran had taken his face between her hands and sternly informed him that "when a woman says to boil water, she means go away."
For a while he and Sokka had sat on the front stoop, fidgeting and feeling generally useless. Occasionally they would hear Katara yell from inside. Each time this happened Sokka would shoot him a dirty look, as if to say, this is all your fault.
Now it was late morning, at least by South Pole standards. The sun was slowly rising to the east, clouds rolling pink across the sky. Sokka had eventually left to get some rest, but Aang hadn't slept at all.
At long last the door opened behind him. Aang flew through the air, landing in front of Kanna and spraying her with snow. "What's happened? Is she alright? When can I—"
Gran Gran smiled tiredly. "She's fine, Aang. You can go in now." Without waiting he leapt past her for the door, blowing it open as he reached it. The airbender blew through the house, finally coming to a stop in the doorway to their bedroom.
Katara lay in the bed, head tipped back and eyes closed. Her long, dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, even her "hair loopies" gone for once. In her arms was a bundle. A very small, very quiet, unassuming bundle.
"By the way, it's a boy."
Aang jumped, having not noticed Kanna's entrance. Katara opened her eyes and smiled broadly at him. "C'mere Aang." She whispered. "Come see."
He tiptoed over to the bed and sat down beside her. She tipped her arms away from her body, causing the bundle to turn towards him. Inside was a small, squarish face. Red-faced, eyes squished closed, with just a hint of dark hair on his crown. His breath caught.
"What are you going to call him?" Kanna asked, leaning against the door frame.
"Gyat—" Aang began.
"No, Aang." Katara cut him off. "We are not calling him Gyatso. It's too old-fashioned!"
"But—"
"What was that other one you suggested? From the airbender fairy tale?"
"Tenzin and the bison? Katara, it's not a legend, he was the first human airbender! And I suggested that as a joke!"
"Aww,I kinda like it." She turned her wide blue eyes to his face. They were bloodshot and lined from the long night, but he knew the puppy look when he saw it. He sighed.
Before he could say anything, the tiny boy wrinkled his nose and sneezed. Katara's hair flew straight back, and the window shutters rattled as they were beset by the sudden gale. Katara and Aang looked each other in joy.
An airbender! At last! Aang reached out and took his son into his arms. Staring at the tiny face, a strange feeling came over him. I'm not the last airbender anymore, he realized. After being alone for more than 100 years, finally there was one more. Another airbender. Someone who could learn the ways of the wind and sky, the stories and the forms, and keep them alive to pass them on. He realized he had begun to fear that he would have no airbending children, that the bold people he remembered would die with him.
He looked out through the window at the rising sun. The first airbender to be born in over 100 years. A thought struck him.
"Katara," he began. "I think . . . maybe Tenzin wouldn't be such a bad name after all."
She smiled at him, warmly this time, as if she already knew what was in his thoughts. "Alright then." She reached over to touch the baby's nose. "Tenzin."
Suddenly there was a loud BANG as the front door was very nearly bashed in. Bumi's voice sounded through the hall, reverberating down to the floor. "BROOOO-THEEEER!" he called.