A/N Costume Party ATLA and LoK canon-compliant.

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She helps him slide on the red tunic, the silk is cool and smooth to the touch.

Her fingers brush over lightly the star-shaped wound, still so fresh and he winces from the pain. "Thank you, Katara," he smiles gratefully. "I still feel like an invalid, I can't even dress myself."

"You should be in bed, you almost died." Katara looks at him sternly.

Zuko ignores the comment about dying, and simply shrugs, "You know I'd rather be lounging around, but it's important that I show up to my first meeting as Fire Lord with the military commanders. I have to demonstrate that I'm in control, it's a delicate time." The complexity of the political situation doesn't escape Katara, but it's surreal that the awkward dork who was washing dishes with her a few days ago now suddenly has an entire country to run.

The burgundy west with the golden hem comes next.

He continues. "If they think I'm weak, they'll pounce like puma-hyenas, to tear the whole thing apart. We'll end up with warlords sitting on their islands again."

"Is that a bad thing?" Katara thinks that the empire needs to end, and learning to be small again may not be the worst thing for the Fire Nation.

"I understand how you feel about the empire, Katara, believe me, I do. But that doesn't mean we should go back to the days of the tribal wars and bloodshed."

He raises his arms and she twists the golden belt around his waist.

"I didn't mean that." She doesn't wish war on anyone, there has been enough lives lost.

Zuko sighs. "I know you didn't. I'm just nervous." He bites his lips.

Katara ties the intricate knot, taking care that the lines are perfect. "You'll be fine, Zuko. You prepared for this your entire life. It's your destiny."

"Well, not for the three years I was banished," he sighs.

"Especially those three years," she says firmly. "Think about it, what did your uncle teach you?"

Zuko pauses for a moment then smiles. "You're right. Strategy, politics, diplomacy, leadership, patience…tea." Mentioning his uncle lightens him up without a fail. Katara thinks that maybe it reminds him that even with a missing mother, an imprisoned father and a crazy sister, he is not all alone in the world.

"You forgot pai sho," grins Katara.

"Don't even remind me of the pai sho," he grimaces.

She helps him get into the ornate long robe.

"I still feel like a kid playing dress up… What if they don't listen to me?" Zuko is back to worry-mode.

"They will. You are their legitimate ruler, and more importantly, they will see that you are right." At least she hopes they will.

He bows his head slightly, so she can tie up his hair.

The black locks feel like pure silk under her fingers. They never touched much before, but since she has been healing him constantly in the past few days, she has become more tactile with him. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch lightly. Katara fusses with the knot for an unnecessarily long time; both of them unwilling to break contact.

Katara pins the three-pronged golden headpiece into the topknot.

He raises his head and his transformation is complete. In this moment, she's acutely aware that he's not only her dear, awkward friend, but also the Fire Lord, who belongs to his people. The feeling of closeness is replaced by a feeling of grief as she realizes that the part of their lives roaming free as a group of friends is irrevocably over. Something whispers inside her that it was probably the best part, only they didn't realize it then.

"Aang said that he'll leave for the Earth Kingdom tomorrow," Zuko says quietly. There is a question hidden in the statement which he doesn't say, but Katara hears nonetheless. Will she leave as well?

"Iroh needs his help to prepare for the peace conference… I mean it's good no? We'll be together again in two weeks." Katara rambles instead of replying because she simply doesn't know. It's all hellishly complicated. In wartime, necessity ruled their life often leaving them no option, but now that peace is here, the future is wide open. Zuko's and Aang's destiny is written, but she's free to become who she wants to be. Suddenly it feels like a terrible weight and she's unsure if she's capable of making a choice.

"Yeah, it's good," mutters Zuko, but there is a sadness in his eyes. He takes a deep breath and motions to his attire. "How does it look?"

Katara steps closer.

She smoothes her fingers over his eye gently, purple-red mark blooming under her fingertips.

The scar feels dry, scaly and warm. It reminds Katara that pomp and circumstance is only the surface, her dear friend underneath remains who he is. Reckless, brave, heroic, caring. She's unsure if the caress is a good-bye or a promise. He goes very still and surrenders to her touch, just like he did that day.

"Perfect," she nods.

They are yet again on the crossroads of their destiny, except this time the choice is hers to make. And now she feels the agony he must have felt, torn between the familiar and the new. She breaks away.

She squeezes his arm and nods at him encouragingly. "Go, knock them out…"

"…moose-lion," she says and he flashes a big toothy smile at her. He runs out of the hut. One of his friends, dressed as a penguin, greets him.

"Cool Zuko-costume, Bumi. But I think the scar is on the wrong side."

"No, it's not on the wrong side," retorts Bumi, and waves back at Katara one last time before the boys race towards the communal hall where the costume party is about to begin.

Katara watches his son skipping away happily, dressed as Fire Lord. Before, it would have been unimaginable for someone in the water tribe to pick a Fire Nation costume, but Aang and Zuko working tirelessly on peace have managed to turn things around in a surprisingly short time.

But there is more than that. Zuko is Bumi's personal hero since he took the devastated boy last summer on a trip to the Fire Nation, while his siblings were training with their bending, introducing him to swordfighting, theater, white sandy beaches and other exciting adventures. Things he should have done with his father, but…well,…never got to. The trip changed the boy, he came back all laughter and confidence.

Katara looks at the frayed golden thread stuck to her hand and wraps it around her finger. In the last pale rays of the setting winter sun it looks like a golden ring. She closes her eyes and as the fading light caresses her face, she lets herself think about the life she didn't choose.

When darkness falls over the South Pole, she goes home and starts preparing dinner. The kids will be back from the party soon and hearing their excited chatter over the family meal is the favourite part of her day.

Notes: I don't know why such a fluffy prompt ended up with such a sad tone. Anyway, the fic doesn't want to imply that Katara was unhappy with Aang - the relationship was not perfect - and if she chose differently, there would have still been obstacles to overcome.