Chapter 35: Fertility

Author's note: This is a tough, angsty chapter, everybody. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Content warning: miscarriage, infertility, pregnancy loss


When Aang finished his morning exercise and meditation, Sokka was at the table eating breakfast and reading the newspaper, and Toph was sprawled on the couch in her robe petting Momo. Katara was already on her way to the clinic. The airbender greeting his friends cheerily and put on a kettle for tea.

"So the twins went back to Omashu?" Sokka asked Toph.

"Yeah, they left yesterday."

"Oh." Aang said, disappointed for her. "I thought maybe you were going to….take up a new hobby."

"Or two." Sokka added with a smirk.

"Nah." Toph waved away the idea. "I decided I couldn't pick between two identical hobbies, so I didn't need one. That's all either of them would ever have been good for, anyway."

"So you do understand the difference now," Aang said smugly.

"Whatever." She stood and stretched. "I'm going to get dressed and go to mom and dad's. They have better food. What are you two doing today?"

"Colony talks, then an afternoon sparring session with Suki. And I might take her to a little poetry reading in the evening." Sokka seemed so excited they had to assume sparring was a euphemism.

"Colony talks, then lessons on the last hundred years of Earth Kingdom history with King Keui." Aang made a face.

Sokka shuddered. "You poor thing."

Aang shrugged. "It's not like I can hang out with Katara anyway. She'll be at the clinic again all day."

"Stuck in classes and neglected by your girlfriend?" Toph shook her head ruefully. "Maybe you need another hobby."

"Do you mean hobby or relationship?" Aang asked testily.

"Either. Both." Toph teased.

Aang bent a bit of dishwater across the room to flick the earthbender right in the forehead. Toph started to get into a stance, until Sokka warned her, "Hey, we don't want to wreck the Earth King's house again. It might have serious diplomatic consequences this time!"

"What's he gonna do? Banish the Avatar? Piss off the Flying Boar?"

"Stop listening to us in the colony talks and spark another global conflict?" Sokka retorted.

"I thought you were leaving to eat at the townhouse," Aang imitated Poppy's snobby voice.

"Yeah. Gonna eat lots of bacon too." She stuck her tongue out at the vegetarian and left the room.

"There's an article here you need to see." Sokka tossed the paper in front of the younger boy. He opened it and saw the headline: "Avatar Aang needs to think about breeding, expert says."

The article pointed out that since Aang was the last airbender, that meant he had sole responsibility for the rebirth of his nation. He was the only one who could sire any future airbender, and if he failed, airbending would die with him, and the Avatar cycle would only last 3 more generations. The expert who had been consulted, a breeder of racing ostrich horses, went on at length about how many foals a single stud could produce, given a large enough stable of fertile mares. He'd calculated that assuming Aang lived to a ripe old age of 80, he could father as many as 20,000 airbenders, all his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, with a sufficiently vigorous breeding regimen, but he would need to start soon.

"I feel sick."

He did look green in the face. And his breathing was all wrong. "Are you going to throw up?" Sokka asked uncertainly.

"I haven't eaten yet this morning, or I probably would."

"Maybe put your head between your knees?"

Aang complied. When he came up, he looked more red than green. "I don't really have to do this, do I?" He asked, looking utterly miserable, and nearly panicked. "Is this what the world really expects of me?"

"No." Sokka reassured him. "This guy is kind of extreme. I think the world does expect you to have kids someday. Like a normal person, not like a stud ostrich horse. If you, uh, died childless, it would be considerably more tragic than it would be for anyone else."

Aang slumped and stared down at the table. "I guess that's true."

Sokka picked up the paper again, and tried to speak about the breeder's recommendations with a bit of distance and humor. "My question is how this guy came up with these numbers. Does he expect you to do the deed every single night with a different fertile woman? How many women does he think are just dying to donate their womb to help repopulate the world with airbenders? And I don't understand the economics of this. The breeder is obviously used to getting paid stud fees—the owners of the mares pay him to have his champion ostrich horse impregnate them. But I think with humans, if anything it would go the opposite way, and I don't know who he thinks would be paying these women. You? Zuko's reparations fund? Sure, you might get a few volunteers, but not thousands."

Aang's face was changing color again, and this time he seemed to be getting more angry than nauseated. "Using women and…..breeding people like this is-offensive."

"I agree, especially at this scale." The older boy responded mildly. "But I'm a little surprised that you feel this disgusted by it. You told us how your people were kind of casual about this kind of thing."

"I wouldn't say that." Aang shook his head. "We take sex very seriously."

Sokka tilted his head to the side, puzzled. "You said there was no marriage."

"You're not married, and you and Suki-don't you take it seriously?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do now. But the way you described them, it didn't even sound like your people were monogamous."

"I don't see why you'd have to be monogamous to be serious about sex." Aang answered reasonably.

Sokka crossed his arms and looked at him with a steely gaze. "You'll have to explain to me how that works."

Suddenly this felt like a very important conversation to Aang. As if Sokka had just asked him, 'what are your intentions concerning my sister?'

"Are you inquiring out of anthropological interest in my people, or on Katara's behalf?" Aang carefully requested clarification.

"How about first your people, then Katara."

"Ok. I….can't really speak from experience here, so I'll just tell you what we learned in the Air Temple." He tried to remember the open, matter-of-fact way his teachers had talked about matters that the other three nations seemed to see as so intimate, even taboo. Without meaning to, he seemed to have absorbed some of his companions' reticence, but this conversation demanded a return to the broad-minded attitudes of his people. "Our lessons were pretty comprehensive. I told you how we were all one big family. It could have destroyed the whole community if sex were-misused in some way, so they made sure to instill good values in us, starting really young. The monks and nuns told us that you should always treat the other person with respect and care, even if you only come together once. They said it's not enough to make sure that both people are ok with what's happening: it's totally pointless unless you're both actively enjoying it the whole time. They taught us that sex should ideally always be about…..a moment of connection, not just with the other person but with something bigger than both of you. But also that sometimes one encounter could simply be enough; it could be all you needed from that partner ever. The Air Nomads never slept together for the purpose of making babies, or at least not only for that purpose. Kids were just a happy byproduct. The fertility festivals were a celebration of life, a way to share pleasure, attraction, affection, at least, and usually love as well… But all of those would be completely absent for me with any woman but Katara. If I'd never met her, maybe I'd want to have the kind of love life that the adults of my childhood had. It might be interesting to get to know a lot of people that way. But now that I do know her, I just have no desire for anyone else, and I can't imagine that ever changing."

"That sounds a little different and more nuanced than what you told us before. Not as libertine as I was imagining." Sokka responded thoughtfully. "And I didn't know you'd decided you didn't want that kind of lifestyle. Honestly, for my sister's sake, I'm glad you hate that ostrich horse breeder's idea so much. There are a lot of guys who'd be pretty excited about the concept of a harem. But not a lot of brothers who'd want their sisters to be part of one. Especially not coming from the Water Tribe. Not that Katara would ever go along with that anyway."

"I'd never ask her to. That would be such an insult! I'd rather die as the last airbender than suggest such a thing, under any circumstances. Katara is…..everything I could ever want." He looked away, staring into the distance, as if caught by a beautiful vision. "Making love to her would be….."

"Ew, stop right there. I do not want to know." Sokka made a face and held up his hand.

Aang shrugged and started cutting a piece of fruit for breakfast. He hoped he hadn't said the wrong thing. It seemed like he hadn't. Sokka turned back to a different page in the newspaper. The kettle whistled. Aang made his tea and sat back down.

"Ok, fine." Sokka threw down the paper, exasperated. "I'm going to regret this, but you made me too curious. What were you going to say before I cut you off?"

"A sacrament." He said softly, then noticed his friend's confused expression. "Do you have that word in Water Tribe religion?"

"Guess not. It's something special?"

"Beyond special. Something holy. A transcendent spiritual experience."

"Uuugh!" Sokka groaned, scrubbing his eyes with his hands, as if trying to clear his brain of the words Aang had said. "That is the most oogie, disgusting thing I have ever heard!" Then, resigned, he sighed. "It's also exactly what she deserves. I know that now, because of how sex is different with Suki from before. I mean, it was always nice. Great, even. But now?" He widened his eyes, popped his lips, and made a gesture with his fingertips coming apart at his temple, as if to say 'mindblowing.' "And I don't just mean physically."

Aang wasn't sure how to react to that. "That's—uh-really cool, Sokka. I'm—ah—happy for you?"

"Thanks, bro. I'll be honest, I was kind of weirded out by what you said about your people's….customs at the Air Temple, but now that I understand you a little more, it's fine. I approve." He said magnanimously, then paused. "But that doesn't mean you should-there's no rush, you understand?" Sokka lowered his chin and narrowed his eyes at his sister's boyfriend.

"Oh, of course!" Aang assured him. It occurred to him that Katara wasn't that much younger than her brother had been when he first began sleeping with Suki, so he was being pretty hypocritical, but that was to be expected. No point arguing about that when this conversation was going better than he'd ever imagined. "I'd never-she's the one who decides…who makes the timeline."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Sokka muttered. "Maybe pretend she's your age, and make it two years behind her timeline. No reason she should spoil your innocence too soon."

Aang reddened at his implication. The idea that Katara might be ready before he was, was a bit overwhelming, but maybe not really all that farfetched, given the way he could barely keep up with her sometimes. He remembered the noncommittal language his girlfriend had used with her father and borrowed the technique. "I'll—uh-keep that recommendation in mind."

Sokka tilted his head reflectively. "You know, I think I was wrong before."

"About what?"

"When I said Katara was just killing time with you. She hasn't even looked at any other guys, and she's had plenty of opportunity in the north, and here in the city. Now I'm thinking maybe the fact that she didn't want Madame Wu to tell her fortune means that being with you has changed her in a way I didn't anticipate."

Aang vividly remembered how Sokka's words back in Makapu Village had instilled such fear and insecurity in him. Hope rose in his chest. "You mean-you think she does want to be with me?"

"Probably." Sokka paused. "But are you telling me you two still haven't discussed getting married, or not getting married, or anything?"

"Not really. We did talk about how we want to be exclusive, but she still hasn't brought up marriage. And I've been too afraid to." Aang admitted sheepishly. "How do you even start that conversation without just….proposing? I don't want to presume that she would want to marry me in the first place, and we're too young anyway."

"You are, yeah. But she's sixteen in just a couple weeks. You two definitely need to talk about your future and what it looks like. And it would be best if you were prepared to make some compromises." Sokka advised. "I don't think she's ready for a proposal either, but she has to have thought about it, as madly in love as you two seem to be."

Upon hearing this, Aang burst into hysterical laughter. Mid-guffaw, his mouth twisted and he gasped. His elbows dropped onto the table and he hid his face, as his shoulders continued to shake.

"Are you ok?" Sokka asked, concerned.

"I'm great," Aang spoke into his hands. Then he took a deep breath and uncovered his face, his shoulders sagging weakly. "I don't think I've ever felt so relieved."

"Not even when you defeated the Fire Lord? Or when Appa came back?" Sokka wondered, his expression one of disbelief.

"Close, but no. Ever since you said Katara was about to break up with me, I've been working so hard to be the best boyfriend of all time. To win her over, so she'd want to stay with me." The airbender explained. "I've been arranging my schedule around her time at the med school and the clinic, cleaning this place so she doesn't have to, complimenting her as much as I can without going overboard, kissing her just the way she likes it, buying presents and planning her birthday…."

"That's….kind of cute. And I'm sure you did win some points that way. She seems pretty happy."

"You think so?"

Sokka shrugged. "Yeah."

"Good." Aang nodded. "Then it was worth it. It's been a little exhausting, but only because it's been fueled by anxiety. And now you're telling me I don't need to be anxious?"

"I guess so, yeah." Sokka appeared abashed, guilty, even, which was not a normal look for him. Aang thought he might have been about to say he was sorry for the anguish his misunderstanding of his sister had caused his friend, but he found he didn't care to hear it. The assurance he'd just been given made his past worries fade into insignificance.

Instead of allowing a pointless apology, he made a joke of his assuaged angst. "I could kiss you right now."

"I'd rather you didn't." The Water Tribe boy stood to leave. "We better head over to the palace. Zuko will be mad if we're late and he has to make small talk with the Earth Kingdom guys for too long."

"Right." The Avatar did too, grabbing another moon peach for the road. "Don't let Katara see that." He pointed to the newspaper on the table.

"Oh, no. That would be like putting out a hit on that guy." Sokka grabbed it, and dropped it in a garbage can several blocks away from the house.


At the midwife clinic, Katara was excited to see one of her favorite patients, Nuwa. She had recently arrived in the city, a refugee from the outskirts of the Si Wong Desert, where the Rough Rhinos had run rampant before the Fire Nation's defeat had sent them into hiding. When their home was destroyed, she and her husband had left for the city, along with a few others from their village. But unfortunately, he had caught an illness on the road, probably from bad water, and passed away before they arrived. Days later, her pregnancy had been confirmed; he had never even known. Despite her tragic story, Nuwa was cheerful and excited about her baby, which was due soon. Her pregnancy was healthy, uncomplicated, and nearly complete. Katara was glad to have an easy patient with only good news to share. She sent her home with a delivery kit and instructions for signs of labor to watch for.

After that happy appointment, Katara had two sad ones. When she examined her next patient, a seventeen-year-old who was in her fifth month, she couldn't find a heartbeat for the child. She called in another midwife to confirm, before giving her a tea that would bring on labor and help her pass the stillbirth. The girl was in good spirits at first, as she explained how the pregnancy had derailed her plans for a job in her favorite bakery, and the father had proven himself unequal to the challenge and disappeared. She insisted that she was glad to be rid of him, and that losing the pregnancy was a relief—and yet, when the tiny baby came apart from her, she wept uncontrollably.

"She knew," the girl sobbed, "she knew I didn't want her, and now she's gone-" she covered her mouth, choking off another wail.

"It doesn't work like that," Katara told the girl, squeezing her hand. "You didn't cause this. I know you're going to have another baby someday, with the right guy." She comforted the girl as best she could, and released her to the care of her older sister.

Next, she met with another woman in the middle of a miscarriage, this one very early. She brought clean linens for the bleeding and massaged her belly with water to ease her discomfort and help the process along. This woman already had one child, but it was her third loss in a year, and each one seemed to hurt more than the last, she told Katara.

"People tell me I should be happy with my daughter," she explained, "and I am, but I still want to give her a brother or sister. Our family doesn't feel complete. I miss having a baby. The thought of that part of my life being over-" The woman's chin began to tremble, and her eyes grew shiny with tears.

Katara encouraged her to try again, when she felt ready. "Take time to mourn these losses, and find more sensitive friends. You were able to conceive and to bring one child to term. There's no reason why the next one might not turn out differently. You have so much time."

Katara noticed that the only way she could think to comfort these women was to urge them to look forward to having another baby someday, and she had no way of knowing if that would ever happen. Though she knew a woman who miscarried had a good chance of eventually bearing a healthy baby, she was also aware that one miscarriage made future ones more likely. True happiness for these women seemed unthinkable if their desire for a child was never fulfilled. At least, Katara was sure she would feel that way in their situation.

The healer's next patient was a mystery. Liao had been referred to Katara by the other midwives, who couldn't explain why she'd never been able to conceive. The hope was that the waterbender would be able to "see" under the woman's skin and diagnose the problem.

"How long have you been married?" she asked Liao.

"Sixteen years."

"And how old are you?"

"Thirty-six."

"Do you and your husband sleep together often?" Katara asked tactfully. "Do you know about timing it with your cycle?"

"For the first five years of our marriage, it was every other day. Now we average once a week. Maybe an extra time or two in the middle of my cycle, when the other midwife told me I'd be most fertile."

"Your periods are regular, then?"

"Yes. Thirty days, sometimes thirty-two."

"Are you sure the problem is on your side?" She asked. "Has your husband seen a doctor?"

"Yes, and his doctor said he's perfectly healthy. And, well, he's already fathered a child once before, you see. He had a wife and son who he lost before I met him." That was pretty good evidence that the problem wasn't her partner.

"Lay down and I'll examine you." Covering her hands with water, Katara touched Liao's abdomen, feeling below the skin for cysts, fibroids, scarring, blockages, any other abnormalities that might explain what was happening-or in this case, not happening. But everything seemed to be in order. She could identify all of the structures and organs she'd learned about in her anatomy class, and they all had the proper shapes and connections. Her hormones seemed to be in the correct balance. She could tell that she was in the later part of her cycle, and would begin bleeding in a couple days.

Katara was at a loss. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what to say. I can't explain why it's not working. You're perfectly healthy."

Liao looked down. Her voice was flat and numb, as if she were no longer capable of feeling much of anything at all. "I've let him down. You should see him with his nephews; he loves kids so much, and I want to give them to him, and I don't understand why…"

"Please don't take it on yourself. It's not your fault. There's nothing you've done wrong to deserve this or cause it." She reassured the woman. "I hope your husband doesn't blame you."

"Oh, no. He's so kind. He would never make me feel bad about it. He says he's happy and I'm enough for him, but of course that only makes me love him all the more. I know how much being a father again would mean to him, especially after losing his first child, but he hides his disappointment every month now because he doesn't want me to feel guilty."

Liao's love for her husband was clear, and made the situation that much more devastating. Katara's heart went out to her. She thought of using the spirit water, but there was nothing she could find to cure, nothing wrong inside that she could use it to fix. And the idea of using it to cure infertility, if that was even possible, made her want to save the healing magic for herself.

Because she couldn't help imagining herself in Liao's place. The fact that she couldn't explain this infertility was what made it so chilling. That meant that it could strike anyone, for any reason or no reason. There would be no way to escape it if it was lying in wait for her, like a bomb inside her body. Her knowledge and skill as a healer wouldn't help her in the least, just as she couldn't help Liao. And she wouldn't know until she'd been trying to conceive for years, riding out cycle after cycle of hope and letdown while the whole world watched and waited.

How much more devastating would infertility be if it meant not only an empty crib and a lonely old age, but the complete disappearance of a nearly-extinct race? Poor Liao hoped to replace a single lost child, and not being able to do so was crushing her. Aang needed to restore an entire nation. No one woman could do that for him by herself, even if she were lucky enough to avoid the tragedies that happened every day in this clinic. Katara supposed there was a way around it, but it would break her heart.


Katara came home late from the clinic. When she arrived at the house, dispirited, her boyfriend invited her to sit up on the roof with him. He took her in his arms and jumped straight up, landing nimbly on the clay shingles. Instead of facing him and starting a conversation, as she normally did, Katara immediately sat as close to him as she could, wrapping her arms around his waist and clasping her hands tight, her head stuck in the hollow of his shoulder. One of his arms naturally settled around her shoulders. She didn't say anything, just held him like she was afraid he would disappear.

Sokka had said they needed to talk about the future, and Aang figured this was a perfect time for that kind of conversation. They were alone and not likely to be interrupted. The night was clear and they could see a few stars over the rooftops of the city.

"I've been thinking about that talk we had at the ball." Aang began.

"About the fangirls?" She asked.

"Yeah, and before that, about being exclusive. There's a lot of stuff we haven't talked about, like the future, but maybe we need to."

He was right, they did need to, but Katara couldn't bear it. She couldn't let him make a promise he might have to break someday. She shook her head, still pressed against his shoulder. "I think we should just take it a day at a time. Who knows what's going to happen years from now?"

"There are some things we can be sure of…." Aang protested. He was sure his feelings for her would only grow, for example.

"No, we can't." she insisted flatly.

He felt dismayed, almost rejected. Wasn't that exactly the point—with all other things uncertain, to have one person you can cling to and depend on, no matter what? Sokka had seemed to imply that was what she wanted from him. Aang didn't understand why she would feel so precarious, so unsure. Surely it was nothing he'd done, right? Was it a lingering effect of the war? Had not knowing they would survive the final confrontation made it hard for her to rely on anyone?

Maybe there was another way to show her what he wanted for their future, to reassure her and pull her out of the despondent mood she seemed to be in. He pulled Katara's chin up for a kiss, trying to concentrate all of his hope and love in the gentle press of his lips on hers. But she didn't open her mouth to him the way she usually did. She kissed him back in a perfunctory manner, as if it were a quick public kiss of greeting or goodbye. He stopped, and her head returned to its spot on his shoulder.

"Bad day at the clinic?" He wondered.

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Thanks, but no. Can we just….sit here?"

"Sure." Aang rested his cheek on her hair and looked up at the stars.

She was holding him tight, and that seemed to be giving her comfort. It felt great, having her body pressed so firmly against his side. She fit there perfectly. There was something needy about her arms, something that made him feel secure despite her refusal to discuss their future. To help her get even closer, he hooked his hand under her knees, and swung her legs over his, so that she was almost sitting in his lap. He thought whatever had happened at the clinic must have been pretty bad, if she didn't even want to kiss. Odd that she wouldn't tell him, but that was probably because it was private for the women she had treated. She was conscientious like that. She was such a great healer. He was proud of her.

There was no reason their discussion of their future had to happen anytime soon, despite what Sokka had said. Aang knew he would never push her, never impose unwanted questions or declarations on her. He was good at living in the present, the way she said she wanted them to. Each day with her was such a gift, that asking for a guarantee of endless days together seemed greedy, ungrateful. This was enough.

Katara had always known she'd have to share him with the world. She'd thought that would just mean interrupted dates, prolonged absences, and constant travel. She'd never imagined sharing him so intimately. That was probably naïve of her. She'd focused on Aang's role as the Avatar and forgotten about what it meant for him to be the last airbender. She realized now that though it would tear her to pieces, she would take any part of him she could get. Maybe that meant that it was too late to spare herself: she really did love him. Irrevocably, hopelessly, to the point of self-destruction. What a way to finally figure that out.

Because there were worse things than the pain she was anticipating for herself. She remembered the way Aang had clutched her at the Southern Air Temple, even more desperately than she was holding him now. She imagined him experiencing a version of that grief every month when she bled with disappointment, or, worse, with the loss of an almost-child. There wasn't much she wouldn't do to spare him that. Some risk of loss was inevitable, of course, inherent in the act of reproduction, but maybe it wouldn't feel so perilous if he could….hedge his bets. She could be generous enough to allow him a way around her limitations, generous the way he always was with her. Anything he did to bring back his people, she could forgive him, much more easily than she could forgive herself for failing him.

Katara recalled his perfect sincerity as he'd assured her, "I'm not interested in anyone else." Now she wished she'd never asked for a pledge of exclusivity; this might be easier if no commitment had ever been voiced. What he might have to do-it would break his heart too, she realized. He would hate it, maybe even run away from it the way he had fled his Avatar training so long ago. Oddly, there was a bit of consolation in knowing that she wouldn't be completely alone in her misery. But of course Aang would do his duty in the end. And she thought he was not one who could share his body without feeling. If he grew to care for another through the course of fulfilling his obligation, if he loved a woman who gave him something she couldn't—how could she blame him?

She shifted, and gripped him still more tightly. Maybe she needed one night where he was just hers, and then she could put this problem in a box inside and worry about it later. She was getting good at that. The box was getting full. It felt like splitting herself: the happy surface, the heartache buried down deep. Did love always feel like this? The waterbender wished her mother were here to tell her. She felt sure her parents' marriage had been idyllic and simple, in comparison with the complications of her intercultural relationship, though of course it had been tragically cut short.

Even now, Katara remained confident of the choice she'd made, because the calculation she'd told Aang about on their first date held: the good still outweighed the bad. Though she was becoming more aware of the challenges in their future, the joy he gave her every day grew in intensity at an even faster rate. Those good feelings would be back tomorrow, if she could just get through tonight. Luckily, he was here, helping her through it.

She resolved again to take each day, each moment, as it came, enjoying the simple pleasures he constantly offered her, the way he always did, the way he was teaching her to do. That way, then even if disaster struck—whether it was the violent kind that woke her, sweating and gasping, with flashbacks of Azula's lightning, or the slow-motion kind she'd witnessed today—at least she'd have no regrets.


Author's Note: Deep breaths. I promise they're going to be ok…..in the loooong run. And in the short run, Katara had gotten really good at compartmentalizing, at keeping that little box of worries firmly shut, so they're still going to be able to have fun and enjoy their fluffy romance. If you have questions about the implications of this chapter, feel free to drop them in a review or PM and I will respond. Or just let me know what you think of Aang's talk with Sokka, and Katara's painful decision, and her choice to keep it to herself. Reviews mean so much to me!

Next week we're taking a break from this heavy angst with politics, flirty Iroh, and bros bonding over meditation and tea. If you're not already subscribed, hit the button so you can get an email on Friday with a link to the next chapter!