A/N: Wow, you guys really think Aang screwed up, huh? But thanks so much for all the feedback and follows. I'm a bit nervous about doing a multi-chapter thing, so any advice or critique would be hugely appreciated! Hope you all enjoy the update! ~TA

She doesn't quite remember all the snow. It stretches for miles, blots out the land, obliterates the Earth, blankets the world until all she can see is diamonds in the ice, a brilliant, dazzling carpet of cold. She has grown up in this blizzard, spent her entire childhood trudging through snow and breaking through ice, but it feels different, now.

"You've seen the entire world!" Gran Gran exclaims, when Katara voices this thought over dinner one night. "What'd you expect when you compare all that to all this?"

Although she doesn't like the implication that her homeland is a barren dump, Katara has to concede that her grandmother has a point. The world is big, vast, full of life and adventure. The South Pole ... lacks.

The restoration effort, at least, has done great things. Small huts and broken-down homes are transformed into strong houses; walls are erected, defensible positions are made. They are a Tribe that has survived the War by the skin of their teeth, and no one wants to be on the receiving end of some Bender's fury, ever again, so the South Pole is a fortress first, a home second. Pakku, blossoming under new purpose and regained love, has turned Katara's tiny village into something no one will want to trifle with, ever again.

There's a place for another Master Waterbender, of course, and Katara finally, truly understands what it means to be revered for your power. The younger children practically worship the ground she walks on, and the Benders of her Tribe speak to her with a kind of hushed awe, because she is the Waterbender who helped save the world. She is Master Katara, of the Southern Watertribe, and she is not a woman to be trifled with.

Supposedly.

It takes two weeks for Katara to realize she's not entirely happy, being home. She's happy to see Gran Gran and Pakku, of course; being without a family for so long has made her more appreciative of them, now that they're here. She enjoys watching her home evolve from next to nothing, to truly great, and it gives her great pride, to be considered one of the World's Best Waterbenders. She is nothing if not grateful for her blessings, at least.

But she's lonely.

The nights are cold, and the winds are harsh, and she doesn't quite remember her bed being so vast. She wakes up, sprawled out, as if she is searching for something in her sleep, and she knows that it's the presence of a warm body that should have been at her side.

But Katara refuses to be one for regrets.

She has learned that she can't erase history, and she can't change the past. It's gone, it's never coming back, and she has to let her regrets and her mistakes go. Nevertheless, there are some parts of history that cling to her, as stubborn as a donkey-hound, and she has to walk with that weight on her shoulders, when she should be feeling weightless.

She doesn't tell Gran Gran these feelings, because her Grandmother likes to make her opinions known, and Katara isn't sure she wants to hear these particular musings. There are certain subjects Gran knows are taboo, and, loving granddaughter though Katara is, Kanna has no doubt that the claws will come out if needed.

So they live in companionable, if tense, quarters, and they pretend that this was the goal all along: that Katara was going to come back after the War, that her plan was always to return home to her family. Even if they know it's not true, they spend a marvelous amount of pretense on making it seem that way.

The days pass, slow and steady, a simple routine established and followed, and Katara forces herself to teach her pupils the simple stances she has learned so long ago, to catch fish, to hang laundry, to ignore the destiny she thought was hers, so far away, and so, so angry with her.

(It's harder than she cares to admit, but Katara is a stubborn girl by nature).

The new moon brings a new flush of fish in the ocean, and, more importantly, it brings a ship. News is scattered at best in the South, and they make do with what they can, but fresh gossip is invaluable, and even Katara is a spendthrift for information. Today, she is doubly excited to hear the tidbits, because it arrives in the form of her father and older brother.

Hakoda looks a little older, in these days after the War; there are lines in his face that Katara doesn't remember being there before, and he favours his left leg when he walks, leading the Healer to suspect that her father won't divulge the extent of an injury. Sokka, however, is like the glowing sun: handsome, flushed with youth and vitality, and, of course, his irrepressible humor.

"You're getting old, Katara!" He exclaims when he sets eyes on her, and it's hard to believe they're not five and seven years old anymore, sticking out tongues and trying to trip each other up.

"If I'm getting old, what does that make you?" She shoots back, and Sokka laughs, slinging his arm around her shoulder and mussing her hair up, unchanged as always in his lightheartedness.

The men decline a feast, which means Katara gets her family to herself for a change. It's so reminiscent of old times, that it's hard to believe that Kya isn't at the head of the table, next to her husband, smiling that sweet smile of hers. Instead, Hakoda defers the seat of honour to his elders, and Pakku is the one to break the bread.

For a few minutes, there is silence. Then, finally, Kanna lowers her glass and sighs. "Alright, enough of this anticipation. I'm too old for it. Do you have news?"

Sokka grins at the undisguised impatience, and sets his own platter down, gnawing on a chicken-bat bone. "Lots, actually," he says importantly, nodding to his father. "Most of it from the Fire Nation."

"Is that pompous Firelord finally finished moping in his castle, or does he have another few weeks of winter to go?" Pakku inquires sarcastically, and the men snort with laughter.

"Zuko's been under a lot of pressure," Katara reproves, instantly on the defensive. "I've seen what he has to deal with, and I'd like to see any of you handle the Restoration Movement better."

"That's the thing, sweetie," Hakoda interjects, lowering his fork. "There's talk that he's going to abandon the Restoration Movement."

"He ... what?"

"Not completely," Sokka assures. "You haven't been up there in a while ..." He trails off delicately, and Katara flushes, wondering if she can get away with freezing his hands to the table. "And you haven't seen what's happening. The Colonies are fighting the Restoration tooth and nail. Half of them are refusing to leave their homes, and the rest are taking to the streets on a looting rampage. The Earth Kingdom supports Zuko, but it's strained because of all the hits they're taking from Rebels. There's talk that the Fire Nation might have to use extreme force against their own people."

"What does the Earth King say?" Kanna asked, a tiny crease appearing between her eyebrows.

"Same as always - that he's dedicated to the restoration of Balance and equality. The problem is, it's not just Fire Nation that are rebelling. The Dai Le kept a lot of people quiet during their reign of terror, and now that they're gone ... well, things are politically unstable, there's no question about that."

"And what about the Avatar?" Pakku stabbed a sprout with his fork and pointed it to his newly-acquired son-in-law. "What does Aang plan to do about all this?"

Katara suddenly became very interested in the contents of her plate.

Hakoda shrugged, glancing at his daughter out of the corner of his eyes. "He's made it clear that he doesn't want to use violence, but things are escalating. There've been rumors that some particularly pissed - begging your pardon, Kanna - upset Fire Nation soldiers have been planning to restore Ozai to his position of power. They claim Zuko is too soft."

Katara looked up, surprised. "That's not the popular opinion, though, is it?"

"No, not yet. But you have to understand what they're thinking, Katara. They've spent a hundred years occupying this land, and there is no power, in this world or the next, who will convince them it's not theirs. These people have benefitted from Ozai for years, and now, suddenly, Aang and Zuko are telling them that they have to abandon their homes, uproot their entire lives, for people most of the Fire Nation have been brought up to believe is ... well, dirt."

"The Fire Nation thinks everyone who isn't them is dirt," Kanna remarked dryly. "I don't see why they should start getting particular about it now."

"It's not just Fire Nation getting picky, though," Sokka interjected quickly. "There's a lot of people who are disenchanted with the Earth King, and how he let the Fire Nation literally bulldoze his people into hiding."

"That wasn't his fault, though!" Katara protested. "Long Feng hid the truth from him!"

"Yeah, but Katara, what kind of King holes himself so completely to himself that he doesn't notice the thousands of immigrants pouring into his city? It's a hundred years of war, and he didn't have a clue!" Sokka let his fork fall, with a clatter, to his plate. "It's left people feeling angry. They want someone to blame for all the injustices they've suffered, and they want to punish the people in charge. Zuko and the Earth King are just targets for their rage."

"So it's become obvious that the Restoration Movement isn't equipped to handle the problems," Hakoda finished calmly, bringing the tempers that had flared around the table back to a reasonable level. "And Aang is working on a solution. He's somewhere in Bai Sing Se right now, meeting with various Earth Kingdom leaders on how to handle the rioting. After that, we'll just have to wait and see."

Neither sibling said anything further after this dismissal, but Katara, who was seething with the news, knew that her brother would be waiting to bring her to a boil when he got the chance.

A chance that arrived shortly after dinner, when he had asked her to show him the battlements.

"It's sturdy!" He enthused, shaking the ledge. "Solid work! I - ... oops."

"Mostly sturdy," Katara dead-panned, a twist of her hand fixing the broken piece of defense.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, making a point to step away from the snow, arms raised. "I'll just ... stand over here."

He lowered his hands, head tilted up to view the empty night sky, eyes searching for the moon, although he knew as well as Katara did that it wasn't going to be out tonight. "Feels weird," he said after a moment, gaze still on the night sky. "Being home. Doesn't it?"

Katara chose not to expand on his question. "I've missed Gran Gran," she said lightly, looking out, not at the sky, but the deep, fathomless ocean. "I've missed my family. I'm glad to be back."

"No, I believe you. I just ... I dunno. I thought you'd be back in the Earth Kingdom. Where you're needed."

She bristled, like an indignant cat, and wrapped her coat more firmly around her. "I'm needed here," she replied, voice cool as frost. "They need a Waterbender, they need a teacher and a Healer, they need -"

"Aang needs you." Sokka interrupted flatly, tearing his eyes from the hole in the night sky to fix Katara with his best older-brother look. "He has Toph, and you know I'd put my life in her hands, no questions asked ... but I don't like that he's out there, practically alone. We agreed, didn't we? He's our friend, and if he needs us, we go with him. Simple as that."

"Then you go," Katara said tartly. "And give Toph my love."

Sokka made a sound that Katara thought might have been disgust. "So you're willing to carry a little grudge in the way of Aang's safety? The whole world?"

"Don't put the whole world on my shoulders, Sokka. I've had to carry it before, and I didn't like it then."

"And how do you think Aang feels?!" In his anger, Sokka hadn't noticed his voice rising to a shout. "Alone, abandoned, fighting off angry people who'd rather see him dead, supposedly the Bringer of Peace, but no closer to peace than when we started fighting Ozai! You said you'd never turn your back on people who need you, but I guess scorned love doesn't count, right?"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Katara shot back, stung.

"No, I know exactly what I'm talking about!" With one sweep of his arm, Sokka pointed out the huts, the walls, the defenses which were being built and being strengthened, but just not enough. "You gave up the entire world for ice and snow, and the worst part is, I don't even know if you care anymore."

And then he was stomping down the battlements, and was gone.

"Twinkletoes," Toph says one night, as they're sitting out on the balcony overlooking the Royal Gardens of the Earth Kingdom. "I want to be a mom."

The lyche juice that Aang has been gulping down gets caught in his throat, and he chokes, spitting and hacking for a good five minutes while Toph waits patiently. They've been travelling for weeks, exhausting Appa and themselves to get to Bai Sing Se, and they've arrived singed, sore, and very worried - for there was more dissent among the people than they had expected. Aang, who had hoped for things to heal after the War, has grown more quiet and drawn with every uprising he has to put down, and Toph, for her part, has let him brood in peace.

Finally, when his windpipe is sufficiently clear, Aang looks up, eyes streaming, and gasps, "I certainly hope you don't want me to help you out."

As anticipated, the fist comes flying, and Aang rubs his arm in good-natured resignation, still attempting to get past the initial shock of Toph's announcement. It's a bad time for declarations like this in general, but Toph isn't the maternal kind. Aang has suspected for some time that Toph was born without those urgings. She probably thinks she can make a baby out of a rock.

"I've been thinking about it," Toph continues reasonably, twisting her meteorite bracelet in her hand, squishing it into a pulp, before shaping it again. "And I thought ... well, if there's anyone I know who is good with kids, it's you, Fairy Legs. Would you trust me with young 'uns?"

"You never care what people think," Aang observes, deeming it still unsafe to drink anything, and instead toying with the grapes on his plate. "But you were alright with those kids from your metalbending school, weren't you?"

Toph gives him a look, as if to suggest that this example is not the best, and Aang shrugs, a little uncomfortable.

"I dunno, Toph. You're kind, which is always important as a parent. You're firm, so your kid would have boundaries. You're funny, you're smart. You're brave. You're a great teacher. Who says you can't be a good parent?" Now that Aang has some time to warm up to the idea, he finds he likes it a lot more. Toph might not be a conventional parent, but she'd be a good one. A child of Toph Bei Fong might just be the perfect balance of Toph's more extreme emotions and actions. "You, uh, do know that you're going to need a guy for that part, though, right?"

Toph waves her hand in airy dismissal. "When I feel like it."

They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, after that, listening to the cricket-ants chirp and the sparrow-flies whistle, and it's peaceful. It's hard to believe that the world is descending into chaos just outside these walls, but that's the purpose of Ba Sing Se, Aang supposes: keep the bad outside, keep the desirable inside. It bothered him back then, and it bothers him now, but it also benefits him, for the time being.

Back then, he muses, was a simpler time.

There are times - more times than Aang would like to admit to - where he finds himself thinking back to the past, when he was hunted and chased and so very, very frightened, and yet ... happy. Knowing his purpose and his goal, and what he needed to do, and having people to fight alongside with, so that even the bad days weren't so bad, and the good days were so very, very good.

It's different, now, and although Aang is considered a hero and the Greatest Avatar born, even though he has friends and supporters on every Nation, he realizes he's never really felt so alone.

He's grateful for Toph. They might not be alike, in terms of fighting, but the similarities are endless after that: patient, observant, no true family to speak of, lost souls who have found their own way. And even through their differences, even though Toph has the whole world at her feet and could go anywhere, do anything, she chooses to travel with him. She tells him it's because they're both in the Earth Kingdom anyways, and she's got nothing better to do, but Aang knows that she's there to give him support, and to be his friend. And he's grateful.

"I still don't like that we're letting the Generals vote on how to deal with the Fire Nation," Toph says after a time. "They've had a hundred years to come up with reasons to hate Zuko and his family; putting the power to do so in their hands won't make rainbows and sunshine."

Aang frowns. "The Earth King understands the position they're in, he won't let them declare war just because they've got a grudge to settle."

"You know that, sooner or later, something drastic is going to happen."

"Drastic like what?"

"I dunno. War. Something terrible. Assassination."

"Toph!"

Toph startles, slightly, and Aang wonders if he shouldn't have raised his voice; he intentionally lowers his tone. "Don't say stuff like that. We don't want Zuko dead, remember?"

"We don't, but they do. It was never going to be a simple matter of putting them back in their respective Nations and slapping ourselves on the back, Aang." Toph squishes the ball of meteorite in her hand; it oozes out like black blood. "There's a lot of anger and a lot of animosity, and it's not going to just go away. We have to be prepared for a drastic action."

"How?"

"You're the Avatar. That's your department."

He doesn't like her answer, but it's, unfortunately, the only one he's going to get.

"You can come in!" Toph calls out suddenly, and Aang turns his head to spot the startled attendant just opening the door. It's not the first time she's done it, and Aang knows it gives Toph pleasure to surprise the palace servants like that.

"I have a letter," the attendant announces, holding the scroll out for Aang to accept. "From Firelord Zuko. He says the matter is not immediately urgent, but he would like your response as soon as possible."

"Can't be too bad, then," Toph surmises as Aang unrolls the paper and scans the contents.

"It's Mai!" There's a note of surprise and delight in Aang's voice as he releases the royal edict, nearly dropping it to the floor. "She's having a baby!"

"... Idea stealer."

"He says that they're both very excited and Mai is in good health, but ..." Aang quickly reopens the letter, reading it aloud for Toph's benefit. "'Due to the recent events that have shaken the Nation, as well as threats closer to home, we are keeping the news a private affair until it's deemed safe to proclaim it. Hoping you are well, Zuko.'"

"So he's not announcing he has an heir until people stop chucking rocks at his face?" Toph chuckled. "His kid will be in junior bending classes by the time that happens."

Aang, rolling up the letter once more, did not respond. Zuko's decision made sense; it wasn't safe to announce the continuation of the Royal Line when it was already under such threat. Still ...

"They're going to need us up there," Aang said decisively, rising to his feet. "Not just for moral support. If we can turn public opinion towards Zuko starting in the Capital, it'll help with our peace negotiations in the Colonies. Feel like taking a trip, Toph?"

"You mean, leave Ba Sing Se?" Toph was on her feet in a flash, an excited grin splitting her face nearly in half. "Hell yeah! I'll grab a bag and we can leave tonight!"

"We should probably tell the Earth King where we're -"

"Leave him a letter. Let's leave tonight."

Arching an eyebrow, Aang turned to the previously-ignored attendant. "Can you tell the Earth King that we've left for the Fire Nation, and tell him to send us any news?"

"Of course, sir." With a bow, that particular order was taken care of.

"I'll go get Appa ready. Grab your stuff and meet me outside in half an hour." Aang sprang to his feet, suddenly bursting with energy. The idea of moving, of doing something, made him feel alive, eager, like he had just a year or two ago (had it been so long a time? it seemed like years away). He was at the door, ready to taste adventure again, when Toph spoke up.

"Should I tell Sokka and Katara?"

There is a distinctive feeling, when you are being Blood-Bent, where you feel like your veins have frozen, and the blood inside turns to ice. Aang felt it now.

"Zuko doesn't want anyone to know," Aang said automatically, even though Zuko only meant the general population, even though he would have wanted his friends to share his good news, even though Aang had no problems with Sokka knowing, and sharing in the good-natured teasing and jokes and celebration.

And if he knew, then Toph would, too.

She shrugged, like the matter was of no real importance, and brushed past him to get out the door, but she turned on the threshold. "You know," she said, very clearly, like she wanted Aang to take note of her words. "When you shout my name like that, it reminds me a little of Katara. Weird, huh?"

And then she was gone, without a word.