Zuko pushed himself off the cold stone column, chewing his rough bottom lip warily. He eyed Katara as he approached, slowly so that she didn't startle and freeze him to the column he had finally moved from; he had learned from their many years of marriage to never approach Katara when she wasn't expecting him, especially when she was in a less than good mood.
She was sitting under the old tree in the middle of the garden, knees tucked under her chin. Not moving, she sat and stared at the small pond, the clear water trembling in the still night. Her face was set like stone, not betraying a single thought running through her head.
Zuko took a moment to appreciate her beauty, something he clearly hadn't done enough in his youth. Gray had finally touched her hair – nearly a decade after his, which she teased him about as often as she could – and small lines had appeared around her eyes and mouth. But, to him, she looked just as beautiful as she had when she was twenty and she was standing across from him repeating the sacred vows that made her his wife. Her eyes still shown with passionate determination and her body was still capable of waterbending anybody into being frozen to the ceiling, something many nobleman forgot as she grew older and bore children.
Zuko settled down next to her, adjusting his thin robes. She didn't look up at him, just stared down at the water that still shook with the whirlwind of emotions that flowed through her. Zuko frowned sadly before wrapping an arm around her shoulders, rubbing comforting circles into her arm. "Katara? It's nearly dawn. You've been out here all night. Do you want to talk?"
She pressed her face into her knees, shaking her head minutely. Zuko sighed, resting his head against hers, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Okay."
They sat in silence for a time, before Katara sat up more fully, rubbing her red, swollen eyes. She curled her body into his side, burying her face into his shoulder, snaking her arms around his chest. She sniffled, letting Zuko cradle her to him as he murmured soothing words into her hair. "Sokka says he isn't going to get better. That I should start saying goodbye."
Zuko said nothing, rubbing his hot hands up and down her back. Katara didn't wait for him to respond, instead continuing on in that same, sad, defeated voice. "He said he's too sick and too old to get better. He wants me to visit before…" Her shoulders started shaking and her voice broke off. She shifted closer to him, a sob breaking through her tight throat.
"Do you want to go alone? It's okay if you do. I understand." Zuko ran his fingers through her thick hair, pulling out pins still left in from the night before.
She shook her head against his chest. "No. The kids deserve a chance to say goodbye. And I," her voice dropped to a whisper and Zuko nearly had to lean down to hear her, "…I don't want to do it alone."
Zuko nodded. "Whatever you need, Katara. I'll be there." He hugged her tightly. "Whatever you need."
Katara sniffled again. "He's my father, Zuko. And he's dying. How can I stare him in the face and say goodbye? I don't want to say goodbye."
"I know," Zuko muttered. "No one wants to say goodbye." He gathered her in his arms as rain began falling from the heavy clouds and stood, grunting slightly under the strain. Carrying her out of the small, silent garden, he headed back towards their room, keeping his golden eyes on Katara's downcast face.
She clutched the front of his robes, pressing her face in between her fists, tears soaking into the fabric. "I don't want to say goodbye."