Author Note: This was originally supposed to be the start of Chapter Four, but I ended up having too many ideas and it really did not fit into what I had planned for the rest of it, so I cut it. But I had too much fun writing it to dispose of it completely, so here you go! Think of it as a thank you to all of you for your kind words and support. Admittedly not a Zutara chapter, but there is an awkward Ursa and Katara moment, which was surprisingly fun to write. Don't worry, I will make up for the lack of Zutara next chapter. Enjoy!

"The dark realization came to him that a difficult and miserable age had begun for him, and he couldn't imagine when it would end. [Puberty]" –Alberto Moravia, Agostino

Bonus Chapter: Growing Pains

During her tenure as Fire Lord, Ursa developed a reluctant yet profound respect for her predecessors. She felt she had a deeper understanding as to why they were so prone to violence, especially when trapped behind her desk with a mountain of unanswered letters, proposals, reports, and laws to review. If she were a bender, she would have loved very much to throw a few fireballs at something, too. As she was not, all she could think do was to sigh loudly, lean back in her chair, and glare hatefully at the ceiling as she remembered that it was, in fact, her predecessors' faults that her country was such a mess to begin with.

A soft knock at her door roused her from her reverie. A servant girl of no more than seventeen entered, carrying a tray.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, for the intrusion, but master Iroh sent me to bring you some tea. He said you needed sustenance if you—and these are his words, madam—"insist on running yourself into the ground with all this political nonsense." There was a proverb somewhere in there, too, but I can't remember it. At any rate, I also brought you some fruit and pastries."

Ursa smiled weakly and rolled her eyes skyward. "Thank you. You can set the tray here." Ursa took up the nearest scroll and began scanning it without gleaning its contents. When she looked up, the servant girl was still there.

"Is there something else?"

The girl nodded, looking mildly uncomfortable. "Yes. This morning when several girls and I were changing the linens in Lady Katara's room, we found blood on her sheets. Since…well, since her upbringing is so different than ours, we weren't really sure how much she really…knew…and if there was anything you would like us to do for her beyond changing the sheets…" She trailed off, her cheeks flushed.

Ursa's eyes widened as she listened. The girl's embarrassment and confusion were understandable; she had no idea how to approach such a delicate subject. The first time she bled, she had been thoroughly distressed until her mother explained everything, and then she was just mortified. With Zuko, obviously, adolescence would be different, and so Iroh, who was the prince's chief mentor in all things, bravely took on the role of explaining the facts of life. It did not go well. She never even had to explain anything to Azula; like so much in life, she seemed to inherently understand what was happening and found it amusing when everyone made a fuss about it.

Katara was a different story.

Ursa had no idea how much Katara knew about what growing up entailed for a young woman. She knew the Watertribe was a tight-knit, family-oriented group, but without a maternal figure, whose job was it to explain these things to her? Did Katara's grandmother step in to fill that role? Another woman of the tribe? Or has she been forced to learn most of these life lessons, like she had with her bending, on her own?

"Thank you for informing me," she said finally. "Please bring her the usual supplies, and if one of you could make yourself available to her if she needs anything else on that front, please do so. Otherwise, if you could send for her to come see me, that will be all. And, of course, use discretion."

"Of course, my lady." The girl exited the room quietly.

Ursa pinched the bridge of her nose. Please, let this go smoothly.

"You wanted to see me?" Katara poked her head around Ursa's door.

Preoccupied, Ursa looked up from the letter she was in the midst of answering. "Yes. Have a seat."

"Am I in trouble?" Katara wondered, sitting opposite of the ruler. "Is this about the man with the cabbages? Because I clearly told Zuko it was a bad idea and he just—"

Ursa waved her hands, cutting her off. "What cabbages?"

"Never mind. What's up?"

The Fire Lord blinked several times, gathering her derailed thoughts. "Well, uh…this might be a tad…awkward. So bear with me. I promise to make this conversation as quick as possible so we can both get on with our day. So," she began, taking a deep breath, "earlier one of the servants informed me that she found blood on your linens and…I just wanted to make sure you understood what was going on, if you had any questions—"

"We really don't have to talk about this," Katara squeaked, her face as red as the walls behind her. "Gran-Gran already covered this particular conversation."

"Oh! Good! Good. I mean, not that I would not be willing to have this conversation, if you needed it. I am just glad that you understand already. I did not want you to be scared or anything like that."

"Nope. I'm good."

"So, we do not need to talk about where babies come from either, I suppose."

The blush on Katara's face deepened. Her eyes were wide. "Nope. I actually knew about that one longer than the other thing. A lot of babies were born after the warriors came home. So…"

"Ah."

They sat in silence. Katara stared pointedly at the ground and Ursa gazed blankly ahead. This had not panned out as she had originally thought it would. She had planned for awkward explanations and unhelpful metaphors that everyone accepted because they simply wished to drop the subject; yet, once again, she met with a child who already claimed to understand the inner workings of female adolescence. At least Katara had the good grace to be equally uncomfortable by the subject matter, unlike her own daughter who laughed at her discomfort.

When did children become so knowledgeable of such things? She wondered. Has it always been this way?

Katara finally shattered the awkward silence. "Thanks, Ursa, for…you know. I honestly wish I had had the conversation with you instead of Gran-Gran; she was weirdly eager to tell me all about it. Anyway…are we good?" The girl looked all too eager to escape the office.

Ursa had mercy on her. "Yes.