Disclaimer: ATLA and LOK and all characters therein are not mine.

A/N: The chapter title is actually the title of a character-centric indie movie, which is basically all about might-have-beens. Appropriate, I think, and still one of the most beautiful phrases I've ever encountered.

A Change in the Wind

XXXV. All the Days Before Tomorrow

In the North Pole, life returned to its usual rhythms with the tenacity of an old habit; once the civilians had all returned and with the reconstruction efforts underway, it almost seemed as if those rhythms had never been interrupted, as if the battle had never occurred at all. The sun still shone—and still never set—and the tides still rose and ebbed, and life went on, for as it turned out, humans had descended from hardy stock and the world, even long out of balance, would always tend back to equilibrium.

Characters came and went, but the story never really ended.

At the harbor, which bustled with mercantile mayhem once more, Sokka shielded his eyes from the sun's glare with one hand as he cast his gaze up the dark iron side of the last remaining destroyer. It was the one he had commandeered, but he would not be the captain who steered it home. "Are you sure you want to go like this?" he asked, lowering his gaze again.

Suki nodded; behind her, Jet ambled up, having finished assisting his friends with loading the last of the supplies on board. "Yeah. I appreciate your offer to sail back with the Water Tribe, but we have loose ends to tie up on the continent before we ever see Kyoshi Island again. The Freedom Fighters will want to return to the Gaipan Forest, for one thing, and for another, we never did visit Ba Sing Se," she added with a bit of a laugh. "Besides, even with Zuko sending out the falcons and ordering a full retreat of the Fire Army as well, there might still be a few messes that need cleaning up."

Sokka scratched at his wolf-tail and hummed an affirmation. "Zuko did say that there could be some resistance to his authority—he singled out some general named Kai—but hopefully, the army will go quietly. I bet the regular rank-and-file are tired of being on the road, anyway, and won't protest the opportunity to go home."

The Kyoshi captain tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing him with a sympathetic gaze. "Speaking of going home, I was surprised to hear that you guys will be heading back to the South Pole. After all the effort you undertook to get here…" She trailed off, hoping to prompt an explanation.

He exhaled a heart-heavy sigh. "It does seem a little funny, doesn't it," he murmured, and he shook his head. "But Chief Arnook granted my request for aid, so we won't be returning empty-handed. Master Pakku and about a dozen of his waterbenders, along with a whole bevy of civilian laborers and emigrants, will be coming along to help rebuild the Southern Tribe. Even, ah, Princess Yue is coming; she said that it was the least she could do in Korra's stead."

A brief silence followed that statement, and Suki's sympathy only intensified. "How is Katara holding up? I haven't seen her since the funeral."

"She's spent every waking hour under Yugoda's wing, studying the healing arts," Sokka replied, his tone not entirely fortified. "But Yugoda and several healers will be accompanying us, too, so it's not like Katara won't be able to keep learning, which is another reason why I don't feel too bad about leaving here. But she's…she's doing as well as can be expected. Taking it one day at a time, you know." He paused. "I regret to say that she has ample practice with this sort of thing. We both do."

Suki reached out to touch his arm. "And how're you holding up? Your sister wasn't the only one close with Korra."

A flickering smile shadowed his lips. "One day at a time," he echoed, but then some of the tension drained away, and the brittle brightness faded to something softer. "She…she taught me a lot, you know," he said, more musingly, more deliberately. "About courage, about sacrifice…how to be the kind of leader that people not only want to follow, but that they should follow. I'll be a better chief when the time comes because of her."

"She influenced all of us for the better," Jet agreed, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I didn't know her half as well as either of you, but she didn't have the kind of personality you could just ignore or overlook. She was the fiercest fighter I've ever seen, but she knew how to direct her strength and when to make use of her anger. And I'm…not so angry in light of that."

Sokka hesitated, and then he extended his arm. "To great leaders," he said, "and to trying to be like them."

Jet grasped that arm in a warrior's handshake. "To one day succeeding," he added.

The Water Tribe boy nodded in acknowledgement of that, and the Freedom Fighter must have considered that their farewell, as he strolled away, laconic as ever as he made his way up the gangplank and onto the ship. Suki remained, though, for a final moment and caught Sokka in a brief embrace.

"I'm sure we'll see each other soon," she offered once she'd pulled away.

He smiled crookedly and gave an idle shrug. "You know where to find us," he replied, "and Kyoshi Island isn't so far away from the South Pole, anyway. We're practically neighbors."

She grinned, just a sliver, as she teased, "I'd say the grass is always greener…"

"But we have a distinct lack of it," he concluded in a chuckle. "And whenever you visit, feel free to forget to bring Xiang Mei."

Suki laughed brightly at that, and she, too, began her retreat towards the ship. "What, do you expect me to make life easy for you? Remember, I only liked you for maybe five minutes."

He snorted and flapped a blithe, dismissive hand at her. "Bah, off with you already. I'm pretty sure you have places to go and so on and so forth."

She returned the wave, but more genuinely. "See you later, Sokka."

A genuine smile eased across his lips as well. "I'll be around," he replied. He remained at the dock until the destroyer had backed up and glided out of the harbor, and even after that, he watched until it vanished beyond the southern horizon, until the smoke from its stack had thinned to nothingness.

Only then did he tuck his hands into his pockets, and sparing one final glance, he walked away.

The wind ruffled Zuko's short hair and the equatorial sun warmed his skin, but for all that pleasant comfort, he only felt that this ride on Appa was surreal. To be here, without any of the Water Tribe teens, and to know that, even if the sky bison flew to the farthest corners of the Four Lands, he'd never be able to accompany all of them again…it wounded him, somewhere in the pit of his stomach.

He was grateful, though, to Aang. The new Avatar had made sure to rendezvous with the Fire Navy fleet following his predecessor's final rite, and he'd brought Toph along with him—otherwise, Zuko would have had quite the time attempting to free the sailors from their own ships, as the destroyers' portals had remained welded shut.

Now, though, the fleet was anchored back at the capital, and with Iroh supervising the continued reclamation of Fire's far-flung military, Zuko had been given the chance to break away for a while. There were some matters he had yet to attend to, and since Aang and Toph happened to be heading in the same general direction, they'd thoughtfully given him a lift.

He peered over the edge of the saddle as Appa tilted into a downward spiral; wooden ships, their blue sails and moon-emblazoned pennants flapping proudly in the breeze, crowded the sea below. It was also surreal, Zuko had to admit, to see the Water Tribe out in force in Fire Nation territory, but in a good way.

This wasn't a navy, in any case. This was a fresh start for his friends.

Aang angled his trusty companion towards the foremost ship, and Zuko caught a glimpse of Sokka giving a friendly wave as the bison touched down in the water beside the vessel. Appa gripped a mooring line in his teeth so as not to drift away from the ship on the restless ocean currents, and his passengers readily disembarked, especially Toph.

"Ahoy, Husky—I'm assuming," she remarked as she vaulted from one blindness to another.

"Unfortunately, yes," he replied archly, and his expression veered towards pleasant surprise as he regarded Zuko, instead. "I wasn't expecting to see you here, not that I was expecting to see any of you. Why're you…?"

Aang landed lightly on the deck, his orange and yellow robes rippling in the wind. "We're on our way to the Earth Kingdom, and since our path was bound to cross yours, I thought I'd take this opportunity to ask Katara something."

Sokka glanced over his shoulder, and Zuko and Aang followed his line of sight; the waterbender was sitting against the curved wall of the ship near the stern, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms hooked loosely about them. She didn't even seem aware of their presence, her gaze lost somewhere in the middle distance, so much farther away than miles could measure.

Zuko's brow pinched. She looked so small in Korra's tunic, even though it didn't fit her that badly; this was a frailty that had nothing to do with size. Swallowing, he started over towards her, saying as he did so, "If you don't mind, Aang, I'd like to speak with her first."

The Avatar permitted that with a slight nod, and Zuko completed his journey, waiting for several heartbeats at her side before she ever looked up. When she did, she didn't seem terribly surprised to see him; she simply lifted her eyebrows in weakest welcome. "Hey, Zuko."

He interpreted that as his invitation, and he reclined against the shallow curve of the bulwark as well, his shoulder just brushing hers. Despite the explanation he'd given to Aang, Zuko in truth had nothing in particular that he wanted to say to her. He'd just wanted to offer his solidarity, meager as it was.

She took no offense at his silence and, in fact, seemed grateful for it; now, she didn't have to try to find the words, either. And slowly, in the most gradual descent, she leaned more and more heavily against his shoulder until she was resting her head on its support. Her hair strayed, tickling, across his arm, and he could almost hear her eyes sliding shut.

"Thank you," she murmured, long after he thought she'd fallen asleep.

"Anytime," he replied, infusing as much honesty in his tone as was audibly possible. Another minute drifted past on the waves before he added, "You were there for me when I needed you. It is the least I can do to return the favor."

She nodded, and he felt more than saw as she turned her face into his arm, no longer resting on her temple. "Your shoulder, it's…comfortable. Familiar, almost." She let out a sound that might have been a laugh, but it retained more of the trappings of a sigh. "I don't know what that says about Korra."

"I think," he dared to teasingly venture, "that it means she was in really great shape. Because I'm pretty fit, so…" He shrugged, gently so as not to disrupt her repose.

Her lashes fluttered against his skin. "Yeah, I suppose so," she breathed, and however much of the humor she might have caught, she could reflect none of it back. She dismissed the whole segue, though, with a vague shake of her head, and simply echoed in a whisper, "Thank you."

He lifted his opposite hand, still not wishing to disturb her, and after a lengthy hesitation, he followed through on his original intention and settled it on the silky, sun-warmed strands of her hair, permitting it to weigh heavily enough to let her know it was there—that he was there. She must have understood the sentiment, and further accepted it, as she let herself sink that same amount into his shoulder.

Eventually, Aang sought to press his own agenda, and Zuko glanced up at the Avatar as he approached and then gently nudged Katara. She raised her gaze questioningly to the monk's but did not go so far as to raise her head, remaining slumped against Zuko's side.

The older man cleared his throat and passed his staff to his other hand. "I, um, have a request," he said. "Seeing as how you're a master waterbender and I am required to learn the element, I…was hoping that you would be willing to pass on your knowledge."

Zuko heard her breath shudder in her throat, and he couldn't begin to guess where her train of thought must be leading. To make the idea seem more palatable, he interjected, "I'll be teaching him how to firebend, and Toph agreed to do the same for earth. We'd all be together again, and probably traveling, too."

Her every cell radiated reluctance as she hollowly replied, "Guys, I am tired. Down to my soul, I am tired. I just want to go home." She lifted an arm and gave it a weak wave. "Look around you, Aang, and take your pick. There are plenty of other waterbenders to choose from, and I'm sure they're all better waterbenders, too."

"More experienced, perhaps," the Avatar conceded, his brow pinching beneath his arrow tattoo. "But I can think of none better. Korra, after all, taught the art to you. It would be very appropriate if you were to teach it to me."

Katara stared up at him now, her gaze as hollow as her voice. "I don't know, Aang," she whispered. "I'll think about it. But not for a while yet. Not for a long while yet."

He dipped his head in meek concession to that. "I understand," he replied. "Please, do consider it, though. This could be a good opportunity for you to…well, to heal."

Soft and slow, each syllable a stagger, Katara confessed, "I loved Korra more than anything else in the world—I still love her that much." Her eyes, unblinking, were locked on the new Avatar's as if in challenge. "Do you really think the pain of losing that will go away just because I help you master an element?"

"No," he admitted quietly. "But I believe it might be a good place to start."

She regarded him a moment longer, a muscle pulling taut in the back of her jaw, before she wilted and sheltered her face once more in the shadow of Zuko's shoulder. "I'll think about it," she echoed, the words just a scrape in her throat.

The Avatar shifted his gaze to the prince, who tilted a brow as if to say, Well, you did what you could.

Aang acknowledged that with half a nod. "We ought to be on our way, then, Zuko."

But Katara lifted a hand, her fingers tangling in the firebender's tunic; other than that, she failed to move or speak, but the message was as clear as if she'd shouted her protestations aloud.

Zuko arched his brow more meaningfully. "Maybe not quite yet."

It was only once Aang had agreed to that condition and moved away that Katara's hand relaxed, and even then, she did not remove it entirely.

Zuko couldn't find it within himself to mind.

Over a week later, the perpetual background bustle of Ba Sing Se lent texture to the otherwise formless quiet in the orphanage's kitchen, where silence had reigned uncontested ever since Zuko had finished relating his description of the recent past. It had been so strange to say it aloud, to recount the events as if they were mere bullet points out of history and not something he had lived through, not something that had not only affected him to his core but also rocked the very foundation of the world.

Ursa had prepared some tea when he'd shown up on her doorstep, but neither of them had touched the drinks for the duration of his tale. Now the cups sat tepid in their saucers, and he watched as his mother reached out and closed her fingers on the handle, not yet raising the vessel to her lips—not yet freed from this trance.

"It's really all over, isn't it?" she finally breathed.

Zuko ducked his head, his gaze trained on the reddish brown depths. "Yes," he agreed, "I guess it is. Uncle's assumed control in the meantime, and he's recalling the army as we speak. But…" He trailed off, needing to square his shoulders before he raised his gaze to his mother's curious one. "But he does not plan on keeping the throne, and neither do I plan on claiming it yet. Before she—well, before, Korra discussed the future of Fire with me because she thought you'd be the best candidate for the throne, actually."

Ursa lifted her brows, honestly staggered by that assessment. "Me?" she echoed. "I…I don't…"

He reached into his pack and withdrew the crown; without ceremony but not without reverence, he slid it across the table towards her. "Korra had a pretty good argument for it, too," he said, a hint of wryness flitting across his eyes. "You've already been Fire Lady, so our people will like and accept you as ruler, and being Avatar Roku's granddaughter gives you the benefit of the doubt with the rest of the world, too—certainly more of it than I would receive, considering my paternal lineage. I don't think anyone at all would object to you taking the position."

She studied him for a long, stagnant second before she lowered her gaze to the crown, a furrow appearing in her brow. "It would be unthinkable to refuse," she murmured at last, reaching out a hesitant finger to trace the ornament's contours, and something about her lightened as she concluded, "And I have so wanted to go home."

He smiled warmly and accepted the decision with a nod. "I'm glad. I don't think I'm quite ready to inherit, for one thing, and for another, I already have tentative plans."

"Oh?" Ursa wondered, and she took a slow sip, still looking at him over the rim of the cup.

He nodded again. "I've actually arranged it with Toph and Avatar Aang. After I take you back to the Fire Nation—Captain Jin's speedboat is still stashed on the western coast, so we'll get home in no time—I'm going to rendezvous with them at the Southern Air Temple, where Toph is doing some renovations that Aang has planned; I think she'll be creating an entire harbor, all to make it more accommodating for non-airbenders. Anyway, once that's all taken care of, we'll head down to the South Pole to pick up Katara, because she agreed to become Aang's waterbending master."

His mother's expression acquired the distinct flavor of sympathy. "How is Katara?" she asked, genuinely concerned; she had taken quite a shine to the girl during their long stay in the city. "You told me she and Avatar Korra were very close, so she…must've taken it hard."

Zuko grimaced. "To put it mildly," he confirmed, but he shook his head. "She's strong, though—she'll pull through. Being home for a while will do her good, and I hope that teaming up with me and Toph to teach Aang the elements will…give her a sense of purpose, something to focus on, you know. Something she can still change and affect for the better. I think she realized that, and that was why she accepted the idea in the end."

Ursa bowed her head as she acknowledged that sentiment, and she took another draught of tea to fill the silence. Once she'd swallowed, she remarked anew, "It's so strange to think the war's over. For Ozai to be gone…" She gave her head a slow shake, her eyes losing focus, as if this were a reprieve she just could not fathom, like a doomed prisoner receiving a last-minute stay of execution. But eventually, with less disbelief and more awe, she concluded, "For there to be a new Avatar, too…the world is truly changing. I never thought I'd see the day."

He drained his drink and set the empty vessel on the table. "Neither did I," he replied, and he fidgeted anxiously with the cup in its saucer. "Er…there is one last thing we need to do, though, before we can go home."

Ursa laughed, a soft and delicate sound. "Oh, there is more than just one, my son. I have to see that the children here are relocated and cared for, and that will take some time."

"Of course you must, but that's not what I meant," Zuko denied. "There is something else."

The summer sunlight, thin and somehow watery at this altitude, slanted through the slender gaps in the stone that passed for windows in this turret in the Northern Air Temple; with her head resting against the frame, Azula gazed out at the mountains, dimly aware of the way the snow-capped peaks sparkled in the day's glow. She listened to Ty Lee chatter on about…something or another—old circus stories, maybe. The princess hadn't paid sharp enough attention for several minutes, her focus wandering as surely as the dust motes.

But she woke properly to the present when she heard the bolts on the trapdoor scrape back, and Ty Lee fell silent, too. Together, they gazed with interest and muddled confusion at the portal, as they both knew it was too early yet to be their next meal.

The trapdoor rose on its usual creaky hinges, and Azula stared in nonplussed silence as Zuko popped his head through the opening; his golden gaze caught hers, and he simply looked at her for an indecipherable moment before he hauled himself up into the attic. Crouching at the opening's side, he reached down to assist whoever followed.

Azula's whole world tottered soundlessly off its axis when she saw it was her mother.

Ursa hardly—she hardly looked different at all. It was like seeing a dream come to life, a memory given physical form and sent to haunt the waking eyes…

Tension wrapped icy fingers around Azula's ribs, holding her lungs and heart cold and taut and still, and she stared at her mother with a wary, uncertain gaze. How was she supposed to react to this? What was she supposed to say? Agni, what did Ursa want her to say…?

For a timeless moment, mother and daughter considered each other across this last separating space, and then Ursa did away with distance and knelt in front of Azula and pulled her into a long-forgotten embrace. "My darling girl," she whispered, her voice thick and soft, and she threaded gentle fingers through silky black hair. "I have missed you so much."

Azula could not return the embrace, bound and shackled as she was, and she could not return the words, as her throat had swollen shut. But she could bow her head forward to rest on the woman's collar, and in the silence, she could listen with amazement and disbelief and unending gratitude to the measured, precise echoes of her mother's heart.

When the tears welled up, she let them fall.

Perhaps they, at last, could wash her sins away.

The entire length of the Earth Kingdom away, Aang brought Appa in to land outside a walled estate; winter was slow to loosen its grip in the southern half of the world, and snow lurked in the shadows of trees and buildings alike. That proved to be no deterrent to Toph, though, as she hopped out of the bison's saddle with as much relief as ever.

"Ah," she declared with pronounced sarcasm, "home sweet home."

The Avatar swiveled on his perch but did not dismount, having already been remonstrated otherwise. "Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you? I generally have a very soothing effect on people, and I imagine your parents will be distraught at your homecoming, especially considering the nature of your departure."

Toph snorted. "What makes you think I want to soothe them, Feather Foot? I'm just here to smack the truth into their thick heads, and they can do what they will with it afterwards! You don't even have to hang around here; I'll meet up with you in Gaoling, okay? I've always wanted to actually see the dumb place—well, see, so to speak," she added, pulling a half-comical, half-rueful face.

Aang hesitated a moment more, but then he adjusted his grip on Appa's reins. "Very well. I'll try to find some good tea, although nothing tastes the same after being treated to Iroh's brews."

"Yep, Uncle's in a league of his own," she lilted, and she raised a hand in farewell. "See you in a bit." And then she waltzed up to the estate's barred gate and, cackling, metalbent it open. Guards immediately rushed to discover the source of the unorthodox invasion, and she sensed them all double-taking in pure astonishment.

"Mistress Beifong!" one of them managed to blurt. "Y-You have returned! And…and what in the name of dirt did you do to the door?"

She just flashed them all an infuriatingly unhelpful grin and continued her swaggering route to the actual main house, possessing all the blazing, slightly sharp arrogance of a conqueror. Blithely unconcerned, she slammed aside the heavy wooden doors and stomped into the halls, hearing more than sensing now as servants and other staff become aware of her presence and fled from it, exactly as if she were that conqueror.

But none of them had fled needlessly, and soon her father's voice reached her ears. "Toph Beifong! You had your mother worried sick! Explain yourself immediately, and then prepare to suffer the consequences for your reckless disobedience!"

Toph just jabbed a finger in his general direction, though, and settled her other hand on her hip. "No, you listen to me, Dad!" she declared, and her authoritative tone must have shocked him into silence, as he offered no immediate rebuttal. "I'm not some helpless little kid that you can order around—I never was, and I'm definitely not anymore! I'm a master earthbender, got it? I taught the Avatar, and she killed the Fire Lord, got it? I discovered metalbending! I can see with my element! I went to war, for rock's sake, Dad, and I killed people! Yes, me, frail tiny Toph, helped turn the tide of an entire battle! Your daughter is a warrior and some idiot somewhere will probably call me a hero, and you know what? I won't argue the fact! I think I am a hero! And as Spitfire would say, you're just gonna have to deal with it!"

"Ngh?" her father managed to utter.

At his side, her mother automatically replied, "Well said, dear."

"Ngh?" Lao repeated, all the blood draining from his face.

Toph flourished a hand, riding high on the wings of pure audacity. "I'll be back sometime! Probably for the holidays and whatnot! But I've got a life! Things to do! Temples to overhaul and tournaments to fight and general glory to revel in! So if you can find a way clear to accepting that, great! If not, well, whatever! I kicked the dust of this place off my feet a long time ago, and I don't really care to stick around long enough for it to accumulate again! Laters!"

And with that, she strutted off, her blood pounding in her ears and flushing her cheeks. This time, when the servants avoided her, it might've been out of a healthy measure of fear—or potentially greatest respect—and the guards, too, let her pass without comment or interference. Her stride had lost none of its jaunty quality by the time she arrived in Gaoling, and she swaggered through the streets, stretching her sixth sense out for any glimpse of Aang.

The monk, though, was not the first familiar person she encountered.

"Well, as I live and breathe! The Blind Bandit, out in public! I never thought I'd see that!"

Toph came to a halt and turned in the appropriate direction, zeroing in on the bulky form of the announcer from Earth Rumble. "Oh, Xin Fu. What's up?"

"What do you think is up?" he replied with a chuckle, and he folded his muscular arms on his chest. "Can I put you down for Earth Rumble Five?"

"Of course," she agreed, blowing her bangs idly out of her face. "I'll be there."

He nodded and stroked at his chin. "And, er, do you happen to know about your, well, rival? Rocky Rapids? She's slated to take the second tier, after all, but I can't seem to track her down."

Everything about Toph froze, as if her personal time had ceased to tick, and her sightless eyes were blanker than usual as they pointed across Gaoling's crowds. "No…no, she won't be coming," she eventually replied. "She…retired."

Xin Fu's shoulders slumped. "Oh," he remarked. "Damn. That's a shame. I was really hoping for a rematch."

Tears sparked but did not yet fall as she throatily agreed, "Yeah, so was I."

His forehead furrowed, cognizant of her distress but not understanding its source. At a loss, he simply offered, "Ah, well, I'll see you at the tournament then, Bandit."

Toph's expression shattered at the revival of that name, at hearing it in a different voice, in the wrong voice. "She was the Avatar, y'know," she croaked, unsolicited but unstoppable. "Rocky Rapids. Her real name was Korra. Avatar Korra."

His brows skyrocketed, but his astonishment soon melted into acceptance. "Wow! Really? Huh, I guess that goes a long way towards explaining that whole 'Water Tribe girl who can earthbend' thing."

Her head wobbled on her neck, the most listless gesture, and her voice was so brittle it was a wonder that it didn't shatter as surely as her expression. "Yep. She couldn't beat me, but she could take down the Fire Lord. How's that for ironic? Or is it just stupid? I never can tell the difference."

Xin Fu blinked as the hits kept coming. "Lord Ozai's defeated?" he said in all of a whisper. "I mean, we all heard the rumors that the Chin Outpost had been deserted, but I never dared to think…so does that mean—"

"Yep," Toph echoed. "The war's over. Or it's getting there." She sniffled as she concluded, "And it's all thanks to her."

He shifted his weight, tapping the toes of his boots against the cobblestones, and nodded several times as he absorbed that tremendous revelation. "That's amazing. We'll do something at Earth Rumble Five to commemorate her involvement—in both the war and the tournament. We'll announce it all properly, let the world know. Credit where it's due, right? And…" He paused, not certain if he should trespass like this, but he couldn't help but notice her use of the past tense, so he concluded, "I'm…sorry for your loss."

Toph acknowledged that with another fragile nod. "She was my best friend," she told him, glassily bright.

Xin Fu almost appeared as if he were going to offer a more concrete example of sympathy but then thought better of it, and he braced his hands on his hips, instead. "What're you going to do now?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged, a small lift of small shoulders. "Teach the new Avatar to earthbend, I guess. But he'll never come close to her caliber."

He lifted an eyebrow in concession of that assessment; he didn't need to know the new Avatar to make such a judgment, not when he'd known the old one. Musingly, he remarked, "Yeah, I don't think we'll ever see the likes of her again."

"No," Toph agreed, somber and distant. "We never will."

Like the Avatar cycle, the seasons turned, and in the South Pole, winter eventually melted into spring.

The village was unrecognizable now, and Katara was frankly astonished by its transformation, even though she'd witnessed it, even though she'd taken part in it. The existing edifices had been shored up and expanded, and dozens of new ones had been added; the initial immigrants from the North had only been the first wave, and several more curious groups had arrived over the weeks and months as the shipping lanes in the Great Ocean were reopened, no longer choked by the Fire Navy's blockade.

Master Pakku had returned to the other side of the world with several of his benders—he and Katara's grandmother, oddly enough, hadn't seemed to get along well, but Katara herself hadn't paid it as much attention as she might have done, once—but some of them remained with their families to take up new lives on this fresh ice. Katara could barely comprehend the enormity of that: she was no longer the only waterbender in the South Pole.

Eventually, there would be dozens, and then hundreds.

Eventually, this village would be one of several, and perhaps in a distant future, it would be a great city, too.

The Water Tribes, so long separated, would be equal in power, and they would be united as well; Sokka was already formally courting Yue, and while they'd tried to keep their relationship quiet, perhaps out of some sort of deference to Katara's wounds, she took no issue. Why should her brother not be happy? And if it were with Korra's sister, well…that almost seemed like some sort of poetry. The families would mix one way or another, as if fate couldn't quite let the idea go.

Katara herself still couldn't let it go, so she couldn't judge fate for its failings.

Swallowing a sigh with an ease that denied the action as habit, she brushed aside the heavy curtain and entered her family's new home. Fit for a chief, it was large and capable of catering to honored guests in addition to its permanent residents, but she kept her gaze trained on the snowy floor as she made her way to her room. There were several healing scrolls she wanted to review, and she'd promised to let Sokka study their mother's necklace so that he could draw inspiration from its design while he worked on carving one for Yue. Their father, long returned from the Earth Kingdom's shores, had patched things up with his son and further bestowed his enthusiastic blessing on the marriage, and all that remained was the Northern Princess's acceptance.

Katara knew Yue would agree, though. For some reason, the other girl was head-over-heels for Sokka.

But she never made it to her room, as her father interrupted her thoughts and her stride.

"Ah, here you are," Hakoda said. "I've been trying to find you. Your friends have arrived."

She regarded him for a quizzical second, honestly ignorant of his meaning, but then comprehension dawned. "Oh," she replied. "Okay."

He settled concerned hands on her shoulders and tried to catch her listless gaze with his own discerning one. "Are you sure you want to go? You don't have to, you know. You can stay here. There's plenty yet to do, and it will doubtless prove entertaining to see Sokka continue tripping every time he gets near Princess Yue. The boy regrettably takes after me that way," he concluded with a fond chuckle. "Was I ever hopeless around your mother!"

Katara almost cracked a smile, but only almost, and she was already shaking her head. "No, I'll go. I told Aang I would, so it'd be bad to back out now."

The chief was not reassured by that. "I'm sure the Avatar will recover from his disappointment," he remarked. "That's not a reason to go if you're—"

"I'll be fine, Dad," she interrupted, but quietly. "I just need to get my things."

He acquiesced to that, although his expression suggested he might do otherwise, and Katara brushed past him, resuming her journey to her room. It didn't take her long to pack, as she just shoved whatever spare clothes were closest into a bag. She hesitated, though, when her fingers traced along the folds of Korra's tunic.

She hadn't worn it in a while; she'd transitioned to leaving it on her bed and holding it at night like a child with a security blanket. The fabric was smooth beneath her touch, well-worn but not threadbare, and she raised it to her face with slow, stilted motions and tentatively inhaled.

It didn't smell like anything, though. It hadn't for some time.

Nothing lasted forever.

Tears prickled in the backs of her eyes, but she held them stubbornly at bay, absently shaking out the shirt, instead. She considered it for a wrenching moment, thought about taking it with, thought about leaving it behind. In the end, she succumbed to her need and stowed it at the bottom of her pack, and her stumbling heart found its balance; even like this, it seemed that Korra still gave her strength.

Katara wondered how long she would—maybe some things could last forever.

Her love certainly would.

With her spartan possessions settled on her shoulders, Katara strode back out into the bright antarctic sunlight to find her family waiting for her. She embraced her grandmother and father tightly, murmuring reassurances of her health and safety, and then she turned to Sokka. He simply looked at her for a sparking second before he engulfed her in a fierce bear hug.

"You take care of yourself, okay, little sis?" he said, thick with emotion. "There might not be a war going on, but it's still a crazy old world."

"I'll be fine," she echoed, holding on a moment longer before she pulled back and removed Kya's necklace from around her throat, leaving the skin it usually sheltered oddly bare—but also freer than it'd been in years. She didn't even hesitate as she offered it to him.

Sokka stared at it, round-eyed, and turned that stare on her. "…Are you sure?" he breathed.

She tilted her head, a contemplative quality overtaking her expression. "Yes," she decided. "I will want it back, so don't actually give it to Yue, but…" She glanced away, off towards her friends, off towards the future. "This is a new beginning, right? I shouldn't be too weighed down by the past, and, well, I have fresher burdens to carry. So." And she nodded at the necklace again. "You can keep Mom with you for a while. I'm sure she's missed you."

Moisture rippled across his vision, but he smiled as he closed his fingers on the precious gift. "I'll keep it safe."

"I'd expect nothing less from my big brother," she replied fondly, and she hugged him again. "I don't know how long we'll be gone or where we'll be, but I'll try to write."

He nodded, and as she walked away, he called after her, "Oh, and little sis—teach Aang every last bit of your fancy magic, okay?"

She glanced over her shoulder and couldn't resist the old barb, "Even how to fish?"

Sokka grinned, ear to ear, his tears tracking down his cheeks now. "Especially how to fish."

Katara flashed him a thumb's-up before she resumed her trek, winding through igloos and tents until she had arrived at the sky bison's side. The crowd of onlookers had dispersed by now, only their footprints left behind, and all was quiet on the gleaming snow before a familiar drawl broke the silence.

"You ready to rock, Ice Queen?"

Katara let out a slow breath, which frosted in the air. After a beat, she looked up at them: Aang sitting on Appa's head, solemn but supportive; Toph lounging carelessly and determined to keep spirits up by sheer force of sarcasm; and Zuko leaning over the saddle's edge, one arm extended to help her climb up, one corner of his mouth curved to help her carry on.

"Yeah," she whispered, and she accepted his outstretched hand. Smiling stronger and steadier than she had in months, she nodded at her friends.

"Let's go."