KATARA

SHE WOKE UP FIRST, BUT SHE DIDN'T GET OUT OF BED. She never did. The world outside was hard and cold, and her husband's arms were soft and warm. Whenever she woke up, Zuko's arms were always around her. She never quite knew how that came to pass. A traumatic childhood, four years in the Army, and a year on the run had all combined to make a light sleeper who tossed and turned and was visited by nightmares far more often than he would admit to anyone but her. No matter what, though, when the time came to open her eyes, his arms would be wrapped around her body, and she would be snuggled deep into his chest.

She breathed deep, in and out, and closed her eyes. He smiled like ash and smoke and polish and cigarettes. She loved every bit of it. She took it in, wrapped him tighter than ever around her soul, and didn't get out of bed until he did.

They didn't talk as they got ready; they didn't need to. They held entire conversations without saying a word. He heated the bath water for her and she bathed while he shaved and then he bathed while she did her hair. Sometimes they bathed together, which always seemed to take longer than when they bathed separately. There were a lot of giggles on those days, from both of them.

She tied his topknot before they left. She always did. His topknot always skewed to the left when he did it himself; their wedding day had been a fluke, and they both knew it. So she tied the topknot, slid the ring that held it together into place, and all the while, they kissed far more than even newlyweds were prone to do.

They ate breakfast together, all of them, the group Sokka insisted on calling the Krew. Sometimes they all talked like schoolchildren at recess, and sometimes they said not a word. After eating, Katara would always drink at least one full cup of moon tea. Sokka didn't even blanche anymore when she did it.

After breakfast, everyone went to wherever they needed to go, and did what they needed to do. They always tried to get back together for meals, though. Sometimes, it didn't work perfectly, but they always tried. Katara loved that. They all needed to know that they weren't alone, that they were in this together.

The meetings came after lunch. Oddly enough, she liked the meetings. Sure, they could drag, and sure, a lot of the time, they were just rehashing the variety of things they didn't know, but she was always with Zuko, and he was always with her. She loved watching him take notes, loved how she could make him stiffen and lose his train of thought just by brushing her foot up his leg underneath the table. He would always turn bright red and cough awkwardly into his hand to cover it up, but everyone always noticed, she was sure of it, at least, Azula did, who was always willing to help when it came to teasing her brother. It all drove Zuko crazy, but she didn't care. He deserved it, because sometimes, when she was getting all ranty, as she was wont to do, he would yawn, stretch his arms, and pinch her butt, making her turn nearly purple and forcing her to bite down on a squeak.

Not that she minded. She would be crazy to.

Dinner, though, was always best. Everyone would be tired and worn out, looking to relax, blow off steam. A bottle of some kind of alcohol would always make an appearance, and her husband and her brother would poke at each other's egos, and she and the other girls would giggle and pretend they weren't actually adults. Lobsang would puff his pipe and tell dirty jokes which never failed to make Asami splutter and blush, and Katara would steal puffs off of her husband's cigarettes and, if the mood was right, steal one and make him light it.

Sometimes, after dinner, she would drag Zuko outside and they would spar, while Azula and Suki cat-called and Sokka tried not to turn green, because, come on, when Katara spared with her husband? It was pretty much foreplay. Though, really, Katara felt that her brother should get over himself. After all, she had seen how it looked, whenever he and Azula got out their sharp-and-pointy instruments and squared off on one of the temple's training grounds. Guy really didn't have a right to judge.

Other times, she and her husband would go straight to bed, assuming there wasn't some other meeting to go to. They would go to bed, and snuggle, and talk, and maybe do other things, though that is really no one's business but theirs.

He always fell asleep first. She would watch him. It was just what she did.

But that was only half of her day, wasn't it? Sometimes, it was even less than that. There was one place she spent most of her time in, one room she knew better than the room she shared with her husband. In that room, she would go in, make sure Toph was fed, turn to the girl in the bed. She would wash the girl, have Toph hold her while Katara changed the sheets. She would feed the girl, read to the girl, sing to the girl, help Toph do the girl's hair. Sometimes, the others would come in, though not as often as her. Katara lost count of how many times her and Zuko acted out Love Amongst the Dragons, because the girl had loved it so much. It got crazier and dirtier every time, especially when any of the others got involved. Azula's rendition of the female lead's final speech cracked Katara up every time.

Eventually, sleep would come for Toph. By then, Zuko was typically in the room. Together, they would pick Toph up, very carefully, and gently lay her in her bed, which was also in the room. They would tuck Toph in, and then Katara would tuck the girl in. She would brush the hair from the girl's face, kiss her softly on the cheek, and blow out the candle before she left.

Sometimes, afterwards, in bed, she would cry. She hated crying, but sometimes, she couldn't help it. She was only human.

It had been four weeks now, four weeks since the battle.

In all that time, Korra, the daughter of her heart, had uttered not a word.

In all that time, Korra, who broke Katara's heart anew every day, had not opened her eyes.

And yet, every day that Katara woke up in her husband's arms, she felt renewed.

Because, in all that time, she had never blinked, faltered, or stumbled. Sure, sometimes, she cried, but that was all.

She was Katara of the Southern Water Tribes, and she would never, ever, turn her back on those who needed her.

It was just what she did.

She just wished it wasn't so hard sometimes.

Not much to be said here, except to note that, for those playing the home game, time's going to speed up for a bit, and we're going to be jumping around a little. Remember, we're not always in absolute sequential order. If I do my job right, you won't spend too much time confused.

That's all for today! I hope everyone enjoyed our little trip around the world of the story, and is ready for the plot balls to start flying.

Moving on! In the next chapter, Sokka decides that it's time to break the mood. Stay tuned!