Even taking on Ozai was easier than this.

He sat outside in the courtyard once Toph left, feeling old, feeling worn. Feeling out of touch with everything he'd thought the world was supposed to be. He was hurting. And he was alone. This wasn't how he'd imagined things going. Or rather, it was exactly how he'd thought it would be – right up to the point where the girl he loved ended up betrothed to another guy. Oh, he knew Toph was right - the two of them did have something between them. Admitting that wasn't the hard part. The hard part was trying to figure out how what they had could possibly trump the fact that she belonged with him.

I paid attention to her. I love her. So what if I didn't want her to go after Yon Rah? She didn't have to do that. She should have just let it go. It's not like threatening him would bring her mother back anyway.

But even as he tried to rationalize everything, he knew the earthbender had been right. He had tried to...not control Katara, not really. But change her mind, bring her around to his way of thinking. How often had she expressed reluctance to do something and he goaded or guilted her into it anyway?

Still...Zuko? Why? Why him? He might have been able to handle it better if she'd ended up with almost anyone else. But he trusted Zuko. They were friends. How could the firebender do that to him? How could he take away the one person Aang loved?

And Katara – how could she? How could she walk away from him? Didn't she know that they belonged together? She was the Avatar's girl, everyone knew it. She found him, she taught him. She was supposed to stay with him. They were supposed to be together forever. She was supposed to help him rebuild the Air Temples, to help him look for any other Air Nomads that may have escaped the slaughter, that may have hidden from Fire Nation wrath. For crying out loud, she was his first friend! She should have stayed with him! But no, she overreacted to his perfectly reasonable expectations for their future, and when he returned after giving her some space it was to find that the girl who claimed to not want marriage had agreed to become betrothed to the former prince. How wrong was that? Katara didn't belong in a palace. She belonged with him, traveling on Appa, flying the skies, exploring the planet, enjoying the perks that came with being the saviors of the world.

When did it all go wrong?

His thoughts chasing each other like a puppy that had just found it's tail, the Avatar leaned back and stared up into the night sky, knowing it had no answers for him but hoping anyway.


"Where's Aang?" Suki asked as Toph wandered into the hall and dropped into her chair. The younger girl shrugged.

"Left him in a courtyard thinking about stuff. How're Sparky and Sweetness doing?"

"They're doing great. Katara looks like she was born to this role," Suki said with a fond smile. On her other side Sokka snorted.

"Katara was born Water Tribe," he mumbled around a mouthful of food, his speech almost incomprehensible. "There's nothing we can't do."

"Except learn table manners, apparently," Toph snarked. "Or is that just you?" Suki laughed while the boomerang wielder sputtered, insulted.

"I'll have you know I have very good table manners," he said with a pompous air.

"Okay, okay, I believe you," Toph said. "By the way, you've got sea prunes on your shirt." The entire table laughed when Sokka gasped and looked down only to realize the shorter girl had played him again.

"Very funny, Toph," he grumbled before deliberately ignoring her and returning back to his second helping of dinner.

"Master Toph – how did the Avatar seem to be doing when you left him?" Hakoda's calm voice was tinged with parental worry. Toph sighed.

"He doesn't think he's to blame for anything – he sees it as Zuko taking Katara from him." The older man nodded slowly.

"I thought he might feel that way. He's got a lot to deal with and no real frame of reference to help him."

"I explained a few things to him, and I know he understood what I was saying, but he's being stubborn and getting all 'I'm the Avatar'-y." Toph sighed and picked at the plate the server had just sat down in front of her, taking a small bite of the roast duck more out of reflex than hunger.

"He'll come around eventually," Suki said with hopeful certainty.

"I hope so," the earthbender muttered.


From their place at the head table Zuko and Katara saw Toph come in unaccompanied. Katara sighed.

"He must still be mad," she murmured. Zuko reached out and placed his hand over hers, holding it briefly.

"We'll talk to him. We'll work it all out." Though his voice was sure, his eyes were as concerned as hers were. They ate in silence for a while before she spoke again.

"Zuko, earlier, after the announcement, before Uncle interrupted you, you were about to say something. What was it?" Blue eyes fixed on him curiously and he choked on his sausage and rice, taking a few sips of rice wine to clear his airways before trying to answer.

"I, um...I...I don't remember." She arched a skeptical eyebrow at him and he felt his cheeks heat but he turned back to his plate. He was relieved when she didn't push the issue, but he knew better than to think it was along term reprieve. Still, Zuko didn't want the first time he confessed his feelings to his best friend to be in front of a room full of people, when they were both worried about Aang. Suddenly his meal didn't seem as appetizing. His mind began to wander on its own.

It had been a lot of work to get them to accept him. He'd tried to convince himself he didn't want their acceptance, didn't need it. He was there to teach the Avatar firebending so that his father could be taken down and he could work on trying to fix the injustice and the wrongs he'd finally decided to face rather than ignore. Besides, the kid was annoying, never listening, never applying himself. It was a frustrating mess. But somewhere along the way he'd come to respect Aang a little, to trust him a bit. Somehow, some way, he'd stopped seeing him only as a duty and realized that the kid was actually a friend. To think that he'd upset his friend bothered him. But at the same time, he couldn't deny that he rejoiced in the fact that Katara was by his side, and with any luck he could convince her to want to stay there. He sighed and pushed his rice around his plate. A moment later he felt her hand cover his and he turned to her. Her cheeky grin nearly masked the worry in her eyes.

"Don't look so fierce. They'll think we're having lover's spats already." He blinked repeatedly, partially because of the knowledge that apparently his public demeanor had slipped enough for her to notice, but also because that word had rolled so easily off her tongue that it stunned him momentarily.

"Lover's spats? But we're not lovers!" he blurted quietly – and watched her cheeks blaze as she suddenly found her empty bowl fascinating. Her voice was low when she spoke.

"You know what I mean. If you sit there scowling they'll think we're not happy together and they'll start questioning. We're supposed to be blissfully happy, right?"

He sat in silence for a moment, digesting what she'd said before deciding he'd never get an opportunity this perfect again. In full view of the gathered nobility and guests, the family, the servants, Zuko waited until she had picked up her glass of wine, leaned over, and brushed one finger over her neck as he pressed his lips softly to her bare shoulder.

Then he had to keep from laughing as a servant scurried over to clean up the mess from where the glass had crashed out of her hand, over the front of the table, and shattered on the floor. The entire room was staring at the front table, at the obviously flustered waterbender and the Fire Lord who was trying desperately to keep his expression innocent while she glared at him with eyes of blue flame.

"You really want to play this game, Zuzu?" she inquired, her expression as sweet as her voice was not. "Think before you speak."

"Is that a challenge, Master Katara? Because you know I cannot let it slide if it is." He loved baiting her, loved seeing that spark, that temper flare. But rather than responding immediately she simply turned her attention back to her new, unbroken glass of rice wine, sipping daintily while she gazed out over the room with all the regal bearing of a queen. He figured she wasn't going to reply and decided to return to his own dinner when her low, haunting murmur caught his ears.

"You forget, my darling, you still have to get through the betrothal dance."

The mischievous, retaliatory look she shot him out of the corner of her eye made him swallow hard and wonder if perhaps poking this particular dragon had been the brightest idea.


In a nondescript house on the outskirts of a small Fire Nation village, a man was waiting in the shadows. He'd been waiting a while, but he was patient. For the amount they were paying, he would be as patient as they wanted. The sound of footsteps outside were followed by the slight whisper as the door was pushed open. Two cloak-clad shapes entered, walking with deliberate steps and very obviously trying to make no noise. The man snorted to himself. Amateurs. But that was okay. Amateurs paid well on average. He decided to let them stew for a while before announcing his presence.

"Where is he?" the slimmer shape hissed.

"He'll be here," the other one said with the confidence born of wealth. "He wants this as much as we do. Our goals are his goals."

The man in the shadows rolled his eyes. His goal was money, pure and simple. These men with their petty schemes and their politics and their doubletalk – if they wished to believe him an avenging angel for their side, it didn't bother him any. They could call him Avatar Roku and praise his name through all three nations as long as he got the money they promised.

"How much do you know about this man?" the hesitant one asked, seeming to forget that they were trying to be quiet and speaking in a normal voice. The slight accent and cultured tone gave him away as a member of nobility, if the observer had needed such hints.

"No one knows a lot, just that he's the best at what he does. He'll get the job done."

"So he'll be able to..."

"Yes."

They stood there in silence for a few minutes, getting more and more nervous and twitchy. The man thought it was rather amusing.

"So where is he?"

"He'll be here."

Deciding to end the game, entertaining though it was to watch the high-class pansies shaking, he stepped out of the shadows behind them and glided silently up until he was close enough to smell their sweat.

"Do you have the money?"

Both nobles whirled to face the voice, the endeavor quite comical as the slighter one got tangled in his own cloak. They gained their composure fast enough, he supposed.

"Right here. Half in advance. Those are your terms, correct?" the larger of the two said as he pulled a canvas pouch from beneath his outer tunic, along with a rolled parchment sealed with wax.

"Yes."

"And here are the instructions," the nobleman continued, proffering the parchment. The man took it and slipped it in his own pocket without even glancing at it. Time for that later when he wasn't surrounded by morons. He kept silent, waiting to see if they'd have anything else to say. The wealthy were so predictable. Sure enough, the shorter one spoke nervously.

"So, how will we...I mean, when it's done..?"

"You'll know when I am successful."

"How?"

The man began to walk backwards slowly, blending back into the shadows he was so at home in.

"The entire nation will scream." With that he disappeared from their sight completely, though he remained hidden in the darkened room.

He was impressed, though. It took the men a whole five seconds to bolt for the door and the comfort of freedom.

How stupid they are. They don't realize they have sealed the death of the freedom they so blatantly claim as their birthright.