Aang leaned over the balcony railing and looked over the Fire Nation, thinking about everything that had happened and how he felt so different than the boy that ran away a hundred years ago.
"Things are going to be different now." Katara said behind him. "Its going to be better. You did it."
"No, Katara. We did it. I couldn't have done it without you." She walked up to him and looked in his eyes. They were the colour of storm clouds and the sky at twilight, and they were looking at her full of hopeless expectation.
"I-" she paused. "I'm so proud of you, Aang. I love you. We all love you." She added the last part a little too quickly and Aang looked down with a quiet sigh. "Oh" was all he could get out through his disappointment. Her shoulders fell. "What's wrong with me?" She thought to herself. She felt unbearably sorry and embarrassed in the awkward silence.
"I just…"
"Katara…" They started at the same time, then laughed nervously. Aang smiled and gestured for Katara to go first. "I'm really sorry, Aang." She apologised. "I know the war is over and we don't have to fight anymore, but I'm still getting used to the idea. I just need a little more time." She put her hand on his shoulder and drew him to her. She felt his arms wrap around her, and then tighten as if he was never going to let her go again. She sensed the water pooling in his eyes. "I'm sorry." She whispered in his ear. Katara felt Aang's body go limp with discouragement and it was too much for her to bear. "It doesn't mean I don't… or never will…" she blurted desperately at Aang, trying to fix the mess. Aang knew what she was trying to do and looked up at her with a brave smile on his face.
"Its okay, Katara. Take all the time you need. I think I'm gonna go to bed, though. I'm beat!" He stretched his arms over his head for emphasis. "Good night, Katara!"
"Good night, Aang" she replied. She heard him tell everyone else that he was going to bed. Sokka made an animated protest, but Aang said goodnight to everyone and left the room. Katara felt there wasn't a whole lot to stay up for, either, so she told everyone she was going to bed, too. Suki, Mai and Zuko exchanged puzzled glances while Sokka and Toph, and her dad were still happily shoving pieces of meat in their mouths. When she walked out of the room, Sokka was asking a servant if there was any more smoked badger-pig.
She pushed open the heavy door to her room and looked around at the obsidian-inlaid floor and the ridiculously large bed dressed in red and gold silk. The surroundings were so different than the furs and blue-dyed hides from home. Feeling a little out of place in the Fire Nation palace, she walked to the window, slid the wood-and-paper shutters to either side, and breathed in the familiar evening air and looked up at the familiar stars. She felt comforted thinking it was the same air she had breathed and the same stars she had slept under for the last few months. Her pack had been placed on the edge of the massive bed and thinking she should unpack, she sat on the bed next to her bag, but before she opened it, she noticed how soft the bed felt and how tired she felt and before she knew it, she was curled up and asleep.
When she woke up, it was, judging by the moon, around midnight. She sat up sleepily and fumbled at the ties on her pack. When she got it open, she reached in and pulled out her Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation clothes, the money bag, and thinking she heard something clink, she fished around until her hand closed over something small and smooth. It was the spirit water flask. She rolled it around in her hand and realized there was still a tiny drop left, not near enough to be of any use. She bent it out of the glass anyway and suspended it at eye level. As she stared at the tiny blue bead of water, she thought of Aang and when he was injured. The memory was so painful it made her breath hitch and she almost lost the precious droplet. It was so awful seeing him hurt and the thought that she might have lost him forever had been unendurable.
Then, she heard a muffled thud from outside, a sound like someone dropping a giant bag of feathers. She looked out her window and saw Appa on the balcony off the dining room, the same place where she had talked with Aang earlier. Wondering what Appa was doing awake and on the balcony, and also thinking the company would be nice, she straightened up her dress and hair (in case she ran into any servants), and walked down the hall back towards the dining room. When she entered the doorway to the balcony, Appa was lying down and next to him, she saw Aang. Panicked, she ducked behind the wall. She peered around the corner to make sure she hadn't been discovered. Appa was lying on his side with his belly towards the door and Aang was sitting with his back against Appa's neck, both seemingly unaware of her presence.
Katara shifted sideways carefully. She didn't want to set off big vibrations, but she wanted to see them, too. They looked so peaceful together. The air was still, the night was quiet and, for once, not full of the anticipation of a fight or heavy with the fear of being hunted. She felt, for the first time in her life, safe. She didn't have to pretend not to be a water-bender, to not be from the water-tribe, to not be with the Avatar. Katara felt, for the first time in her life, safe to be Katara, and it was all thanks to Aang. She looked at him, framed by the stone floor and the night sky, and thought how young he looked. He was only twelve, but already he was talking about love and forever with such certainty. When Sokka was twelve, he could barely ice-fish and still needed Gran-gran to comb his hair. Aang had to be different, though, he was the Avatar. He was born with the wisdom of a thousand past lives and a power coursing through his body that shamed the oldest and mightiest bending masters. He was incarnated not to rule, which can endure failure, but to save, and save all. It was a destiny almost no other man could carry, but he did it.
She saw him begin from a scared child to this boy, no, he was no boy at all, this man who singularly carries the burden of peace on his back. Still, and in spite of his strength and responsibility, she saw the vulnerability of a boy in love. Then, through the fog of all the self-denial and insecurity war brings, she saw the truth. Aang had held onto love through the war and its hatred and death because it was a love strong enough to survive through it all, and instead of twisting and corrupting, the pain and fighting had only smoothed it, like the beach stones on Ember Island. She saw his goodness and vulnerability and asked herself: He was born the guardian of the world, but who would guard him? Who would give him the heart to fight when he was called upon? Who would heal his wounds and spirit when he was broken? It had to be her. She wanted it to be her. She wanted to be in the fire that warmed him, the earth under his bed, the water that soothed, and the air on which he flew, because that was where he was for her.
Aang was still sitting against Appa's neck, his hands out with a little flame dancing above his palms. He felt someone move in the doorway and stood up, letting the fire in his hands go out in a wisp of white smoke. Katara stepped out onto the balcony and into the light. Her braid hung over her shoulder and looked like a silver waterfall in the moon's reflection. "Katara!" he exclaimed. "What…?" He could see tears in her lake-blue eyes, but her face looked like happiness. Before he could finish his sentence, she was kissing him, and he understood. It was right, and they both felt it. It was right like Sokka eating meat, and the Avatar defeating Sozai, and Zuko becoming Fire Lord. It was destiny, and the world was set truly at peace because of it.