Prompt: Momtara and Dadko

Summary: The Mom Friend, the Dad figure - it's who they are. But when do they get to just be children?

(Hint: when they're with each other.)

AN: One line divider signifies a POV switch, two line dividers signify a time jump.

I don't own anything you recognize from your tv screens. Enjoy!

Katara is one year old. She has only just started to wobble around the igloo on two feet and all her words are babbles of "Mama," "Dada," "Ga-ga", and "Sok!"

But this does not stop her from toddling to children, just a year or two older than her, and trying to pat them. When adults pull her onto their lap, she reaches up to pull their cheeks. When newborns wail, she presses her tiny lips to their heads in an effort to soothe them.

Her mother has done that for her when she's sad, and so she does it for others when they look sad. Although she's only one, she has already learned what you do for the people you love.

Zuko is three years old. He was born a sickly child, not showing any signs of being a firebender, but you wouldn't know it from looking at him now. He sits on a tall pile of cushions in the center of his room, using his chubby fingers to direct the servants to put his bed there and that portrait there.

Since Azula is the new baby of the house, he can't be the one with turtleducks painted on his walls. Lu Ten has dragons on his walls, so naturally, he must have them too. When he had demanded his room be redecorated at breakfast that morning, Uncle Iroh had smiled at him while Father patted him on the back. That's how he knew he had done something right.

He has seen his father pointing at the servants and telling them what to do, so he mimics that posture now. But when one of them puts a frame exactly where he told her not to put it, he thinks of his mother and how she gets so sad when Father yells at the servants.

"Eshcushe me? Can you pleashe put that over here? Not there." And when the servant smiles and nods at him before moving the frame, he knows he's done one more thing right.

*TIME JUMP*

"Ouch!"

"Sokka, what did you do now?" Katara asks in a voice that sounds far too much like Kya's, considering she's five, as she waddles through the snow to reach her brother.

"Nothing, Katara."

"Show me."

"No," her brother says petulantly, hiding his hands behind his back. She looks up at him with the baby penguin eyes that always make him give her more than her fair half of their shared blanket.

"Gah, fine." He holds his thumb in front of her eyes and turns his face away, as if by him not seeing it, the fishhook will cease to be stuck there.

"Sokka! Dad told you to not try fishing when he's not home! I'm gonna get Mom," and she moves to run home.

"No, wait! Mom's just gonna get mad at me! You can't tell anyone, okay Katara?" She frowns at him and he bends down a little to look her in the eyes. "Katara. Don't be a snitch, okay?"

"I'm not a snitch!"

"Prove it."

"Fine. I won't tell Mom." She crosses her arms. "Let me try to get it out."

"Nope. You don't- ow, ow, it stings- you don't know what you're doing. I'll get it out." She watches him struggle with the hook for a few more seconds and when the first drop of blood soaks into the snow, she shouts.

"Sokka, you don't know what you're doing either! Your blood! And you're gonna get insected," she says with all the authority of a girl whose medicinal expertise consists of watching her grandmother make healing mixtures and pastes.

"You should say 'you're bleeding', not 'your blood'. And you mean 'infected'. Don't worry, Katara, I got this." He plods over to the small box that holds the fishing equipment and she cranes her neck to see what he's rummaging through it for. "Aha!" he exclaims, holding up another hook.

She squints. "Sokka...what are you doing?"

"I'm gonna pull the hook out with a new hook." Katara doesn't know everything about fishing and injuries, but she's pretty sure this is not the best way to fix the problem.

"I don't like this."

Sokka sticks his tongue out in response. Then, he begins to tug at the hook with the other one as whimpers escape from his mouth until he gets the second hook stuck in his thumb too. He falls onto his back defeatedly, staring up at the clear sky. Katara crawls to his side and pats his shoulder.

"It'll be okay, Sokka. Let the snow kiss it better." Sometimes, when she cuts her knee on a sharp piece of ice or one of Dad's weapons, Mom tells her to let the snow kiss it better. It always works - the cut always disappears. And sure enough, when she whispers to the snow, "Make his finger feel better," and puts her whole soul into that thought, the bleeding stops, and the hooks are pulled away. "Sokka, look!"

He lifts the finger to his face and his eyes widen. "How did you do that, Katara?"

She grins. "I didn't do anything, the snow did!" Sokka studies the hooks that have been left behind in the snow with suspicion. After a few minutes, he shrugs and gathers his sister in a hug.

"Thanks, Katara. You're good at helping. Sometimes."

Katara laughs loudly. "I know."

"Haha!"

"Azula, what did you do now?" Zuko knows his sister too well for him to not be alarmed by that specific laugh. He loves Azula dearly, but ever since she's started spending more time with Father (more than he ever got to, his mind reminds him cruelly), she's started to get a little scarier.

"I didn't do anything, Zuzu. Calm down." Zuko pushes aside the bushes to see his sister sitting peacefully in front of a pile of rocks.

"Okay. That's good. Do you need anythi-"

" Quack! "

Zuko frowns at the shrubbery behind him. "Where did that come from?"

"We're in a garden, where turtleduckies live. Where do you think it came from, dum-dum?" He turns his most stern look on his sister. He never spoke like that when he was five. Where does she get all this- this confidence from?

"Mom said she took all the turtleducks to the animal healer so they can be checked. They're not supposed to be-"

" Quack! "

Zuko zeroes in on what he thought was just a pile of stacked rocks. "Azula…"

He crouches down and lifts the topmost rock to reveal a trapped baby turtleduck. "Azula!" He picks the baby up gently and stands straight again. "What were you thinking?" When he turns to reprimand his sister, he sees that she looks sad.

"Is it hurt?" she asks quietly. He glances down at the animal cupped in his hands.

"No. I don't think so. But let's take it to Mom just to make sure."

"Wait! You can't tell Mom I put it inside the rocks!" Zuko hesitates. If Mom asks where he found it, he doesn't want to lie to her. "Zuzu, promise you won't tell her!" He looks at his sister, who is clinging to the sleeve of his tunic and jumping up and down. "Promise. Please!" That seals it - Azula never says please.

"Okay, okay. I won't tell Mom. But you know what you did was wrong, right?"

Azula steps away from him. "Not that wrong."

He gestures for her to follow him as he heads to Mom's room. "No, it was that wrong. If the baby had been in your little trap any longer, it wouldn't have been able to breathe. And then it would have...died." He whispers that last word and Azula's eyes blow wide.

"Died? But- but I never meant to dead it!"

"You mean 'kill it', Azula," and he feels a little bad for saying that, because does a five-year-old really need to know about those kinds of things? So he keeps talking to make her feel better. "I know you didn't mean to. And you didn't. See? The turtleduck is fine!" He stops walking to hold the animal in front of her face, and his sister does look slightly comforted.

"Can I...can I pet it?"

"Yeah. I think it's forgiven you. Go ahead." Azula gingerly moves her index finger towards the baby's shell and strokes it. The turtleduck raises its tiny head and snuggles further into Zuko's hands while making soft noises of contentment at Azula's gentle touches.

After a few minutes, Zuko's hands start to get tired of this position. "Let's go to Mom now, okay?"

Azula nods and throws her arms around his ribcage. "Thanks, Zuzu." He's not sure what she's thanking him for, but he shifts the turtleduckling to one hand and gives her a half-hug back.

"Sure, Azula."

*TIME JUMP*

Katara carefully makes her way to the edge of the iceberg, where Sokka is sitting with his feet skimming the surface of the ocean. The packed snow muffles her steps and so she lets out a tiny noise to alert Sokka of her presence, just in case he wants to be left alone. (Not that she would leave him alone, of course. That would be the worst thing to do right now, when he looks like he might dive into the freezing fathoms any second to find Mom.) He doesn't respond, so she plops herself next to him. Her eight-year-old feet are not long enough to touch the ocean, but she strains her toes anyway. Sokka places an arm in front of her belly and pushes her backward until she's fully seated on firm ice.

She twiddles with her thumbs for a bit. "How are you feeling, Sokka?" He glances back at her.

"Mad. I hate them." She doesn't have to wonder who he's referring to - she actually saw his evil, bad, mean face. But right now, she has to focus on Sokka.

"That's okay. You wanna talk 'bout it?"

"No." She can't remember the last time Sokka sounded this upset. She wants to go get Dad or Gran-Gran, but they both looked so sad when she left home. Dad has cried so much these past four days, and Gran-Gran hasn't even come out of her room.

"That's okay too. We don't have to talk about it then." She does want to talk about it, a little. She wants to tell someone how she wishes she had run a little faster or screamed a little louder. She wants to tell someone how it's her fault Mom's dead. She wants to tell someone how she wishes she had never been a waterbender. But she can keep that to herself. Mom would have wanted her to be strong and brave, so she will be, for her family. She moves forward again, slides her mittened hand into Sokka's, and squeezes. He doesn't squeeze back. "It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay, Sokka." He lets out a loud sound, unlike anything she's ever heard before, but she knows it's a cry.

He puts his head in her lap and she can feel his tears soak into her pants. She bends her small body over his and whispers in his ear. "It'll be okay. We'll be okay. I promise." They sit like that for a long time, staring with tear-filled eyes at the spot in the ocean where they last saw their mother.

Azula is slumped in the chair across from him, and Zuko's surprised. Azula never slumps. He didn't think she knew how to.

"Everything okay, Azula?"

"No!"

"Hey, you're not supposed to yell in the library."

"I don't care! What's Grandfather gonna do about it?"

"Nothing." To you , is what he doesn't say. "What's the issue, then?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Well, that's not true. She wouldn't be sitting here if she didn't want to talk about it, and he knows that. She hardly ever talks to him nowadays, unless it's to bully him, but in any case, she's always the one to seek him out. So he'll give her a little time to figure out what she wants to talk about.

"How about this? I'll tell you about my day, and then you can tell me about yours. Okay?"

"I don't care about your day, Zuzu." He ignores that.

"Well, I've spent all day here, reading about our Great-Grandfather. His name was Sozin, and there are actually a few pages torn out, but it looks like-"

"I said I don't care! Let me tell you what I did today." He sits back, satisfied. "I was training with Father today, and I created a fist of flame that lasted 12 minutes. Have you ever done that, brother?" Those are the kinds of comments that make him grit his teeth. He doesn't need a reminder of his inadequacy. But he knows it'll make Azula feel better, so he shakes his head. "That's what I thought. And then, Father said it was time for Uncle Iroh to show me how to do the fire breath thing! Has he ever said that to you?" Zuko swallows his emotions and shakes his head again. "But then guess what? Uncle said I wasn't ready! I'm always ready for everything. I'm the best. Uncle knows that. He just hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," says the boy, always quick to jump to his uncle's defense.

"He does. But I bet he doesn't even know how to do the fire breath. It's probably just some stupid story he says to look cooler. Father says he's always been stronger than Uncle, you know?"

Zuko doesn't comment on that last sentence. "I don't think it's a stupid story. I read that some really powerful people are able to breathe fire. They usually have some connection with dragons."

"Well, all the dragons are dead. How's Uncle gonna have a connection with one?" He shrugs.

"I dunno. I just thought it was cool. Uncle's pretty powerful." Azula rolls her eyes.

"Whatever. I'm mad he doesn't think I'm ready. How dare he? I'm perfect! Everyone says so!" He thinks for a few moments.

"Azula...you know you don't have to be perfect, right?" She stares at him, genuinely astonished. "I know Father is always telling you to be the best, but you're only 8. You should relax sometimes. Join me and Mom in the gardens."

"I- I don't have time to waste with you and Mom, idiot. I have to keep training."

"Training for what?" Azula seems thrown.

"To be better," she says, but it's more of a question. He looks at her sadly. He's read about people who burn out their fire because they never take time to meditate or cool down. He's not sure if they're real stories, but he doesn't want that happening to his sister. He stands up, reaching a hand out to her.

"Come on. Let's go feed the turtleducks." Azula stares at his arm for a long minute before grabbing it and holding on tight.

"Okay."

*TIME JUMP*

Zuko stares at his crew. They've been working for hours without rest - as they should. Rest can come after they capture the Avatar.

But he's not heartless. He knows that they're running low on supplies. He knows that Lieutenant Jee would have made the men go without dinner if it meant their Prince - banished though he may be - got to eat. And so he excuses himself and sprints to the other side of the boat, where his quarters are. He grabs the bowl of rice, shovels just one spoonful into his mouth and then sneaks into Uncle's room. The loud snores assure him that his movement will not be sensed, so he quickly grabs Uncle's bowl of rice as well. He hovers for a moment, before pulling out a small ink dish from a writing desk and putting a spoon of rice in it. Unsanitary, yes, but Uncle will understand. Then he heads back to the planning room where his crew is arguing over the best possible route. They grow silent when he enters and recoil when he pushes the bowls toward them.

"Eat," he says, without ado, and turns his attention back to the maps.

Katara rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands. "No one does anything around here," she mutters as she puts the lid on top of the pot of stew.

"What was that, Sweetness?" She nearly growls at Toph.

"I said , no one does anything around here! I'm the one cooking, cleaning, mending, and packing all the time, all by myself! And on top of that, I have to train Aang and practice my own waterbending! I never get a break!"

"Cool," is the singular response she gets before Toph rolls over and faceplants in a spot of mud. She stands up and wonders how bad it would be if she just ran away. Could she do it?

"Hey, Katara, I- I didn't know you felt that way." She spins around to see Aang fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. Darn it, she had just finished sewing that back together!

And he didn't know? How did he not know? This had been going on for more than 60 days now - how could he have possibly not noticed that he never had to do any chores? But then again, she reminds herself, he is twelve. And he is the Avatar. He has more important things to do than laundry. She sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Aang," she says, even though he never actually apologized. "It's no big deal. I even...like doing the chores sometimes!" She's lying through her teeth, but Aang doesn't seem to notice as his face brightens. He gives her a big hug and skips away to poke Toph in the head.

Katara slumps back to the ground. Is it really too much to ask for everyone to do their own share? She loves all three of them, she does, but she deserves a little time to just relax.

Or maybe that's selfish of her. Everyone's doing their part to help save the world, and so must she.

*TIME JUMP*

Katara stops and stares. Her spot at the Western Air Temple's fire pit is occupied, and not by a flying lemur who just wants to warm up his paws. No, it's been taken up by a firebender, who's stirring something in a pot. She storms over to him.

"And what, exactly, do you think you're doing here?" He looks up at her with a confused look.

"Cooking?"

"Why?"

"Well, I thought you might want a break. Don't worry, I won't burn everything down." He looks back at the food in the pot. She blinks.

...a break?

That's all she's wanted, for so, so long. The absolute relief that floods her at the mere notion of taking a break from her constant and ever-growing list of tasks forces her to sit down next to Zuko, despite all her distrust.

He didn't even ask. He didn't bug her about it or try to force her to notice that he was doing something good. He just did it, without a fuss, like it was his responsibility. It seems too good to be true, but when he turns to her, holding a cup of whatever the meal is - it looks and smells and tastes delicious - she decides she won't question it anymore.

She finally got a break. It feels good.

He's a little concerned about her. Alright, that's not true. He's very concerned about her.

Does she ever stop working?

She wakes up at the same time as him - and yes, that does make him feel extremely stupid for saying "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" all those months ago - and goes to sleep at nearly midnight, and not for one moment in between does he see her just sitting and breathing in the salty air of Ember Island.

There's no way that's healthy. So he steps in.

He takes care of the dishes that he, Sokka, and Aang eat out of. He takes care of the boys' clothes too, and he cooks dinner almost every night. He would do all the dishes and clothes and cook all the meals in a heartbeat, but he also thinks that might piss Katara off more than she'll ever admit, and he does not have the energy for another life-changing field trip. Apparently, his help with these tasks doesn't phase her too much, because she never comments on it - and thank Agni for that; he can't imagine how awkward it would be if she thanked him for cleaning up after himself and doing the bare necessities.

What does catch her attention, however, is how he tries to shoulder some of her emotional burdens.

Katara approaches him one night after he's finished a particularly emotional talk with Toph about her inner conflict - she's homesick and loves her parents dearly, but she doesn't have the patience to be their good, docile, little girl anymore. Zuko had hashed out some of his own feelings about home life and Toph had found comfort in their shared experiences. Judging from the look on Katara's face, she had probably overheard a good portion of the conversation.

"Hey, Zuko. I, uh, I wanted to say...thank you. You know, sometimes, it feels like everyone comes to me to talk about their feelings." After a beat, she rushes to say, "Which is a good thing! I'm glad, I'm really, really glad. I want to help them. But also, I don't always know how to. Yeah, I was mad at Dad and of course I miss Mom, but it doesn't really help me relate to Toph's issues. Which makes me feel like a failure. I don't like that. But you- you're good with Toph. And Aang. I heard you practicing with him this morning and telling him he's talented - that was super nice of you."

He scratches his chin, unsure of what to say. This is all stuff he's supposed to do, right? He's Toph's friend and Aang's teacher, so really, he's only doing his job. He goes for lightheartedness with his response.

"So. You sure do like to stalk me, huh?" Zuko, shut up. This is why you don't have friends. Katara's eyes widen.

"Um, no! That is- I- well, ugh! You're so annoying!"

They stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before spinning around in synchrony and running towards the beach house.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, it sounded like Sokka yelling!"

"Damn it!"

*TIME JUMP*

It's Uncle Iroh's favorite palace event - Music Night. Coincidentally, this is Fire Lord Zuko and Ambassador Katara's least favorite palace event. They don't really have a favorite - they prefer not being in the palace at all - but if they did, this would definitely not be it.

It's not that they don't like music, not in the least. Their issue is with the constant requests to dance and sing. They're grown adults, for crying out loud, not circus monkeys!

So they attend Music Night for a few minutes, to humor Uncle, and then they hightail it out of there.

They're heading back to her bedroom (placed suspiciously close to the Fire Lord's quarters) when her shoulder starts shaking of its own volition. Then her hips follow the movements, as do her feet. She begins to hum along with the sound of the flute that is pervading the entire palace but is cut off very quickly.

"What are you doing?" Zuko's staring at her shoulder as if something has sprouted from it. She stops moving and checks, just in case. Nope, nothing there. She looks back up at Zuko.

"Dancing, I guess."

"Dancing?"

"Yeah. Dancing. You know, moving around while music plays in the background. Ring a bell?" He scrunches up his nose.

"I thought you didn't like dancing."

"I don't like dancing for a crowd," she corrects. "Come on, dance with me!"

"Dance with you…"

Zuko shakes himself and reaches out to hold her waist and hand, but she steps away.

"Nope, not fancy dancing. Just plain old moving around to the music." He looks confused, so she decides to demonstrate. She waves her arms around in a familiar waterbending gesture and her waist moves in tandem. The music's tempo picks up, and she adjusts her steps.

"It looks like you're just waterbending without water."

"Well, yeah. That's kind of what I'm doing, but it works. You just have to adapt a little. Relax!" Zuko nods, steels himself, and then throws out a fist. She grimaces. "Okay, well, obviously, you should not use offensive firebending moves as dance steps. Try something more...fluid." Zuko tilts his head before holding his arms out in front of him and doing a little wiggle. She will not laugh, she will not laugh, she will not-

She laughs.

Zuko juts out his chin. "You're the one making me do this! You don't get to laugh! I'm going to bed." Before he can stomp away like a child, she grabs his wrist.

"No, no, I'm sorry, Zuko. That was actually really good. Come on, let's do it together." She imitates his 'dance move' and she can see him failing to suppress a smile.

They burst out into laughter and start waving their arms around without abandon. They're not even moving to the beat, just stepping around each other, doing whatever they want with their hands and legs, and they shake their heads until both of their topknots come undone. Long after the music has stopped, they're still skipping around each other, clapping their hands, and shrieking with joy.

They look like fools and they know it. But they simply do not care. Their hearts are light and they feel more like children than they have in a long, long time.

AN: I love Momtara/Dadko in action as much as anyone, but they deserved to just be kids

Thanks for reading!

p.s. look, if three-year-olds don't have lisps...that's just too bad. baby zuko does.

reviews or messages on tumblr (thebluesunflower44) are always appreciated :)