Warning: Occurs ten years post-series and contains spoilers.

Aang sat before his altar, his eyes closed, in full lotus position. Before him was a tray laden with fruit, wine, and three candles. Twisted around the candles, as if connecting them, were worn prayer beads that bore symbols of the Air Nomads.

The Southern Air Temple was deserted still. Despite the years that had past since the end of the war, settlers had yet to settle in the cold of the southernmost temple. While it was peaceful and still liveable (Katara, Sokka, and Suki helped him one summer in cleaning it up and planting a few gardens), most were still wary about the place.

Aang, in his most sympathetic moods, could understand. While the temple was the site of great beauty and significance, the scars of battle and murder were evident, even after the clean-up, and unlike the other temples, seemed almost haunted because of it.

In his most bitter moods, Aang wanted to smack them all, How did they think that his culture would survive if they wouldn't listen, wouldn't help? How did they expect to help his culture along if they were too cowardly to take a risk?

His bitterness was fleeting, and often he was able to let it go. It was trying, especially since it was almost ten years since the war's end, but then...

He breathed in deep through his nose, letting it out through his lips slowly. The air was quiet, and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees around him. If he focused, he could even hear the sound of Appa's content snores and Momo's bored chittering. The peace of it all, being able to focus his energies, to open his mind to the elements that he was destined to bend... the comforting realisation that there had been almost a decade of peace was well worth the memories of that one combined year of pain, of sorrow, and of loss.

"Aang?"

The soft voice broke through his musings, sending his heart racing, but not out of surprise. He smiled, opening his eyes slowly and relaxing his back, turning a bit around.

Katara stood behind him, smiling back. "I just checked on the bok choy plants, and they look wonderful this year. Did you see them?"

Aang shook his head, getting to his feet slowly and stretching out his stiff back. "No, I haven't had a chance to get there yet."

He turned back and placed his hands on his hips, cracking his neck a little. Katara joined him at his side, her hand sliding over his back and resting between his shoulderblades. Her eyes feel on where the altar sat.

Monk Gyatso's statue looked back at them calmly.

Katara and Aang stood in a brief silence, a thousand thoughts racing between them.

"Where did you leave Tyana?" Aang asked softly, his arm slinking around hers to anchor itself around her waist.

Katara grinned, leaning in closer. "I left her with Sokka and Toph in the game yard. Last I checked, Suki was heckling all three of them about the integrity of their form."

Aang laughed. "That sounds about right."

Katara leaned over and hugged him around the waist before pulling away to stand closer to the statue. She looked up, studying the features thoughtfully.

"Aang," she said softly, not looking at him. "Are you alright? You've been up here for hours. We're starting to worry about you."

Aang sighed a little, reaching up to massage a knot out of his neck. "I'm fine," he replied.

Katara didn't answer. She turned around, her mouth set in a firm line, and her eyes narrowed. Aang stared back, not glaring, but not smiling anymore. They stood in a silent stalemate for a long time, before Aang finally cracked.

"It's tomorrow," he finally admitted, looking away.

Katara blinked. "Tomorrow?"

Aang puffed out his cheeks a little in slight frustration. "What do you think I mean with tomorrow?" he shot back, sounding irritated. "Tomorrow marks a full decade since Zuko's coronation."

Katara nodded. "I know that, Aang," she agreed. "I just don't understand why it seems to be a problem for you."

Aang sucked in a breath, shutting his eyes. At times like this, when he knew that Katara tried her hardest to follow but seemed almost unable to fully comprehend how he felt. When they were younger, fights would often break out about the silliest things, and usually because Aang was just unable to word his feelings properly. It took him years to get it right, and even then he still had trouble.

"You miss him."

His eyes snapped open in shock, his eyes meeting hers. She looked sad. "You miss Gyatso, and wish that he had been able to see ten years of peace after so much pain."

Aang nodded slowly, looking away. While he was never the type to be too proud to cry, he still sometimes felt shy about it, even around her. Especially, he thought, when I was ready to assume that she didn't understand, and she understood completely.

Katara stood behind him, carefully sliding her arms around his waist and pulling him backwards against her. He relaxed, leaning in close, and she kissed him gently, right in the place that felt best, at the side of his neck. He exhaled deeply and shut his eyes tight, feeling the tears fall and not bothering to wipe them away.

"Aang," she said, her voice a whisper in his ear, "he'd be proud. Do you know why I know this?"

He did, but he shook his head slowly.

"Because we're proud of you. We're so proud of you. I know you miss him, and love him, but you're not alone, and we love you, too." And here she leaned in close, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Especially me."

"Katara," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He couldn't think of anything else to say but her name, and yet, from the way she tightened her hold on him, he also knew that it was just enough.

"You have grown up so much," she continued, and he heard her voice catch. "You have had to grow up so fast to endure everything, so much sooner than anyone should ever have to endure, and you still keep your head up...oh, Aang, I am so proud of you."

Gently, Aang reached up and pulled her arms away. She looked puzzled, then relaxed when he turned around to face her. He smiled faintly, and she reached up and brushed his tears away with the sleeve of her sweater. Wordlessly, he closed the distance again and hugged her, burying his face into her hair and losing himself in her. She held him tight, rubbing his back.

They stood for a long time before the statue of Gyatso, so long that the candles burned down into puddles of wax and the incense winked out into ashes.

It was only with the sound of approaching voices did they break apart.

Sokka had Tyana on his shoulders, who was looking both terrified and elated at being so high up, occasionally uttering a "whoa" or a "yikes" in her high-pitched voice. Suki was tossing the ball they were using from hand to hand, and Toph was shoving Sokka in the back a few times for no reason other than to shove him.

"Sokka!" Katara snapped, rushing forward towards her brother with flashing eyes. "You shouldn't have her up that high!"

Sokka stared at her in disbelief. "Katara, she's the daughter of an airbender!" he protested. "A little height won't hurt her!"

Toph stopped pushing Sokka sheepishly. "I wasn't going to really knock him down, Sweetness," she admitted belatedly.

"Yeah, she was just being a pest," Suki chipped in helpfully. Toph was instantly in her face but was disarmed when Suki pinched her cheek and declared that she was cute, which resulted in alot of blushing and elbow-nudging.

Katara reached up and gently tugged the toddler from Sokka's shoulders, hugging her tight. Tyana looked somewhat disappointed, her blue eyes wide and her mouth set in a stubborn line, and it didn't escape notice.

"Look, see? She's fine!" Sokka held out his arms, but Katara glared at him. "She's still just a baby!" she shot back.

Aang shook his head and joined them before another fight started. Without a word, he reached over and gently took Tyana from Katara, holding her up high and smiling into her face. A silence fell as everyone watched them, but Aang didn't really notice; he only had eyes for his daughter.

Tyana laughed, her arms waving in the air happily. "More!" she cried, her chubby brown hands reaching out for the sky. "Up!"

"Aang," Katara broke in, her voice stern.

Aang grinned at her, lowering his arms and setting Tyana onto the ground carefully. She was still getting used to her own two feet. "Just once around the temple," he said.

Katara's eyes narrowed. "Halfway."

"Once!" Tyana chimed in, squirming a little in excitement. "Once, once!"

Sokka grinned. "You can't say no to that, little sister," he declared.

"Fine, once, and I hate you!" Katara grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away from both her brother and her husband.

"Great!" Aang reached down, grabbed Tyana in his arms (something she loved) and, awkwardly, reached into his pocket and pulled out a spare belt. With expert ease, he secured Tyana to his front with the belt, then ran back to the altar and picked up his glider from the ground. "We'll be back!" he called over his shoulder, already running. He thought he heard another grumble from Katara, but his mind was already distracted by the thrill of this one thing: sharing the sky with his daughter.

Right before he reached the ledge, Aang threw the glider out and, with one arm firmly around Tyana, jumped into the air after it. Tyana screamed, her hands going to his arm, but it was a scream of pure joy, of unabashed triumph, and he joined in, feeling that same elation. With expert ease, he reached up and grabbed his glider, and they took off together into the sky.

As they flew, Aang thought bittersweet thoughts about the past, about what possibly could have been if he had just stayed one more night in this very place, if he had just waited to speak to Gyatso, to share his fears...

A chittering sound broke him out of his dark thoughts. "Momo!" Tyana screamed, reaching out to the lemur with a laugh. Apparently their activity was enough to drag him away from the peach groves to join them.

"Glad to have ya, buddy," Aang grinned.

If he had waited, it would have changed alot. But would that of been better? Would that possible past, with all of its possible outcomes, be better than this?

Aang shut his eyes, listening to the sounds of the wind rushing past him, of his daughter's happy giggles, of Momo's answering purring...

He listened to the sounds of laughter from his friends, of the water hitting the rocks below, of his own heart beating.

No, he concluded, opening his eyes. Nothing is better than this.

"Tyana, hold on!" he called to her, keeping his arm firmly around her. She dug her fingers in and, with a shout, Aang bent the wind under the glider and forced an updraft, sending them soaring towards the clouds. She screamed, and he laughed, and it was better...so much better.

The best.