The presence or absence of light was meaningless in the never-ending gloom of Katara's thoughts, the endless cycle of worry and healing that had consumed her for three days. Exhausted, she lay on the softest bed she had ever not-slept on, her hair splayed over the pillow as she cradled Zuko's head to her chest. Her free hand worked over the wound in his chest, feeling for the veins and pathways of qi that refused to knit together, despite her coaxing. How could she have thought otherwise, without spirit water to heal Azula's lightning? He had seemed fine, had stood up and stood tall, but then everything had slowed to a dim crawl as he hunched and collapsed and sighed what she had feared would be his last breath in this world.

La, she never wanted to hear that sound again.

Stirring from a doze, she brushed a few silky lines of hair from his forehead and pressed a kiss, there, though the action made her blush and worry that she had no right to do any such thing at all.

"Please live," she begged him quietly. "I don't know what the world will do if you don't." Her voice sounded strange in the muffled silence of the room, but she drew strength from it, and took heart from the thought that maybe he would, too.

"He didn't kill Ozai in the end, you know," she told him. "Your uncle brought the news yesterday. He's really worried about you, but he's busy organising everything - recalling the soldiers, making up delegations to send for peace talks. He says you won't give up without a fight." His hair had the soft feel of turtle-duck down between her fingers. "He didn't have to tell me that - I've always known you were more stubborn than an Arctic camel. You chased us all around the world, remember? You can't die now."

She awoke some time later, not realising until she did that she had dozed off again. The dark circles she knew must hang beneath her eyes were a small price to pay for his life - did his heartbeat feel a little stronger?

A servant glided in with a tray of food and a pot of tea, bowed, and left. The room filled with dove-grey light and brightened until the hot Fire Nation sun peeked over the roof of the palisade outside and dripped copper on the walls. Zuko stirred in his sleep, his brow contracting with pain or effort until she smoothed the lines away. Sunlight had the same effect on his skin as firelight, and the bronze tint to his cheeks brought to mind those long nights at the Western Air Temple, on Ember Island, the day she lost her temper with Aang and he had followed to simply hold her hand and not say anything, counting every moment where she fell for him a little harder. In the South Pole there was a dance where the women started on one side of the room and the men on the other, and they met in the middle and peeled away with great sweeping arcs of the hands. How could she not have seen this coming?

"I had a thought, you know," she told him. "All those stories - Oma and Shu, Gyan and Su Li, the first firebenders - they're a lot like one my mother used to tell me. I'd forgotten it. I don't know if you can hear me, but I think it's important, so I'll tell you anyway.

"In the South, the first waterbender was not the moon. Before people knew about waterbending, everyone lived in one tribe so they would have enough people to hunt the big prey and keep each other comforted in the depths of winter. But one year the whale-sharks didn't come, and there was a famine. The people split into bitter factions and each decided the other was to blame for the lack of food. People became desperate, and in the darkest moment, they turned to eating each other." She swallowed.

"One night, the two best hunters of each faction met each other out on the ice. When the tribe had been united they had been husband and wife, but now, their love had turned to hate. As soon as they saw each other, they fell upon each other, fighting. They were just about to strike the death blow when the ice split beneath them, and the whole ice sheet exploded upwards and nearly cast them into the sea. They sat on a small floe together, too stunned to fight anymore, and watched as two kami rose out of the water, glistening in the moonlight. At first, it looked like the two sea dragons were fighting, but soon the hunters noticed a pattern in the movements as they pushed and pulled the water. It was a mating dance. The hunters began to imitate them and found they could move the water just like the kami. They returned to the villages together and showed how waterbending could be used to hunt and fish, and they ended the famine and brought the two tribes together again. But it wasn't so easy, because they had to teach the rest of the tribe how to waterbend, and they had to keep the peace they had made."

Pins and needles struck up Katara's arm and she shifted to ease the circulation back into the limb. "It's a bit like us," she continued. "The war's over now, but there's still so much to do. And Aang didn't kill Ozai. Azula is still alive. He brought the world into balance but he can't be everywhere, and he can't do everything. We can't just rely on him to keep the peace." She licked her lips, the thoughts in her head whirling too fast for her to voice, too complex for a one-sided conversation. The possibility that she might be a repetition on the cosmic wheel, a karmic remnant of ancient stories, conflicted with her fierce belief in free will. There was too much chance for anything else.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that… destiny is funny, it's like a circle, and we're all just dancing along to the music. The world needs you, and… I can't imagine the world without you in it."

"Katara?" He voice was weak, gravelly from disuse. "Thank you."

In the Jasmine Dragon tea-house in Ba Sing Se, a band played. Ostensibly it was a celebration for all those who had been instrumental in ending the war, the children who had become warriors in order to save the world, but tensions ran high between the guests. Katara and Aang were not speaking, owing to an argument that had begun on his side with an accusation of disloyalty and ended on hers with a demand to know exactly why he thought he was owed her undying love.

"I'm the avatar!" he had shouted.

"That's your problem!"

"If you think I won't have time to be with you, don't worry, you can come with me and -"

"Not everything is about you, Aang. Being the avatar is part of who you are, but it's not an excuse, and it's not a character trait."

"I know the real reason you don't love me. It's Zuko, isn't it? You love him."

"I…"

She was careful to keep Sokka between her and the avatar at all times, but eventually, his veiled, hurt looks and Toph's smug grins chipped too much away from her temper and she felt compelled to step out for air.

A few moments later, a light pair of feet followed her and a rasping, soothing voice asked if she was okay.

She leaned heavily on the balustrade as she answered. "It's nothing really. I had an argument with Aang and he's taking it hard."

"I'm not surprised."

She flashed a frown at Zuko, who looked older suddenly, with the crown of the Fire Nation in his topknot. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Err… it's just, it was kind of obvious."

"What was, exactly?"

He stepped up next to her, but gingerly, as if he measured the distance between them. "That you didn't feel the same way about each other. That you didn't notice, and that he took your feelings for granted."

She giggled. "That wasn't quite it."

"Then what?" A smile played about his mouth, too.

She turned so her back was to the ebbing sun, so that she could see the detail in his eyes more clearly. She wanted to see his reaction. "Actually, he accused me of being in love with you," she told him lightly, and giggled again when she caught sight of the blush warming his cheeks.

"Accused?" he managed to choke out eventually.

She nodded. "Pretty much. I got annoyed because he confused destiny with free will. You can't be destined to love someone." It was her turn to blush and look away.

Zuko sighed. "No, you can't," and her heart clenched. "But sometimes I think the spirits like to toy with us. My destiny was to be Fire Lord, and I am, but I never thought I'd get here fighting alongside the Avatar. People get put in the path of other people, and the choices they make determine the outcome."

"All those stories," she mused. "Two lovers with war dividing them. They brought peace."

"They did." His hand seemed closer to hers on the balustrade than it had a second ago.

"I think he was right."

"Who?"

"Aang. I think I do love you, Zuko, if that's okay." She dared not look at him, and he said nothing.

Then, from the open doorway: "Oh for the love of badgermoles, Sweetness, just kiss him already!"