A/N Uh, confession time:
I have absolutely no idea what this is.
I guess I wanted to try my hand at the "Aang and Katara don't immediately get together. I've seen fics where Aang gets jealous and stuff, and I'm like... that's not what would happen at all.
I wanted to write out my own hc where Aang would be satisfied with a friendship (or would he?) post-war. Don't worry, they do eventually get together.
Anyways, hope you enjoy!
It is done.
The war is over.
And Aang is alive.
He never thought that he would make it past the war, if he is honest. A deep, dark part of him had feared death when he had stood atop that submarine, and again in that theater when he had seen himself (not real, not real) die on that stage, and again in the midst of an inferno, when he thought he would never see his friends again.
(he wonders when he started to truly fear death, when he became aware of his own mortality)
(was it when he found his people gone? when he lost Appa?)
(when lightning struck him in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se?)
But—somehow, some way—he is alive. He is alive, and here, and breathing. He is here, on the balcony with Katara's hand in his, watching the sun rise to a new dawn, a new era of peace, surrounded by all his friends.
He is here. He is alive. He didn't have to compromise himself to save the world.
And that is more than enough.
Katara approaches him on the balcony of the Jasmine Dragon.
She hugs him, a long, lingering hug that speaks of her relief and joy and triumph better than any words can. He, in turn, hugs her back just as tightly, trying to tell her of his own relief and joy and triumph.
Afterwards, they talk.
She says she isn't sure that she wants to start a relationship just yet. She speaks a little fast, a little nervously, as though she is afraid he will get mad at her.
(a part of him is saddened by this. did they really drift apart so much that their relationship has come to this?)
(though it was his fault in the first place)
She hugs herself and says she needs to find herself first, to understand who she is before she commits herself to being with him—with anyone, really. She asks him to understand, to give her more space and time to find her identity.
"Of course," he replies. And really, how could he not? It was his fault in the first place for pushing her beyond her comfort levels, for violating her set boundaries. The least he can do is respect her now and respect whatever choice she makes.
Even if it means not being with her for the rest of their lives.
Katara smiles brilliantly—which only makes him feel guiltier, how could he have not seen what she really needed—and she wraps her arms around him again.
As Aang rests his chin on her shoulder and breathes in her scent, he reminds herself that being here—in Katara's arms, with their friendship intact, breathing, alive—is more than enough.
Years pass. They grow older together, and still they keep their amicable relationship.
As the Avatar, Aang often travels the world, sorting through the various issues left over from the century-long war. Katara had traveled back to the South Pole to rebuild her home and restore her lost culture.
(while Aang is thrilled for her, a part of him is saddened)
(even though she is the last Southern waterbender, there are still waterbenders and elders who may still remember the traditions of their sister tribe to help her rebuild her culture)
(who will help him rebuild his?)
Still, they keep in touch. Aang tries to send as many letters as he can to her when he has the time. She, in turn, responds quickly. Often, in the dead of night, Aang stares at the elegant handwriting under the light of a lamp (or even his own hand) and thumbs the writing, wondering if her words mean more than what they seem.
When there is a ball held for all the nations, they often find themselves bumping into each other. As the Avatar, Aang is required to be there; with Katara and Sokka as heroes of the war and representatives of the Southern Water Tribe, they find themselves being pulled into the politics as well.
Balls are the hardest for Aang to go to, because that means more men to make a pass at Katara.
But when he sees her talking to other men, he stamps out the flare of jealousy that surges through him, telling himself that it's for the best.
Their friendship is—should be—more than enough.
One month after a series of years, Aang finds himself back where it all started—at least, for him: Makapu Village.
He greets Meng, who has found her mysterious big-ear lover, before ducking into Aunt Wu's fortunetelling shop, where he finds her waiting expectantly for him.
Aunt Wu looks up at him with a twinkle in her eye and says, "I presume you want to know more about your fortune?"
Afterwards, they talk.
"Yin and yang are balance," she says—how they got onto the topic, Aang doesn't remember. She holds her hands up like a scale, as if to demonstrate. "They may seem like opposites, but they are complementary forces that complete each other. There is never one without the other. Life and death. Push and pull. Moon and ocean."
Aang wonders why she is speaking about yin and yang when he already knows what it means.
"You may know what it means for the world," Aunt Wu says, "but do you understand what it means for you?"
He ponders her words, turning them over in his head.
Life and death.
Push and pull
Moon and ocean.
He furrows his brow.
Moon and ocean…
Aunt Wu must have seen the dawning comprehension on his face. Her eye twinkles. "Now do you understand?"
He does.
Ever since he visited Aunt Wu, he notices it.
He notices how incomplete he feels. He notices how nothing feels bright and full of life unless he is with Katara. He notices how the world seems just a little bit dimmer, a little bit duller, without her.
He notices how much of himself feels gone without her.
Never one without the other.
I need you, he wants to tell her. You complete me. I am not me without you.
He wonders when he will ever get the courage to tell her.
He wonders if she feels the same.
It isn't until several months later when he gets his answer.
By a stroke of fate, he is allowed to bring the rest of Team Avatar—minus Zuko—to Cranefish Town to take care of a bender supremacist uprising that was happening. They have a few scuffles here and there, but it isn't serious.
Not until the uprising launched a full-scale attack against the nonbending residents.
Aang fights off two benders with ease and takes a moment to breathe before he feels a ripple in the air currents. He jerks to the side, and the fletching of an arrow appears at his feet.
He looks up to see an archer draw another arrow.
But the archer is not looking at him.
Time seems to slow down. With each second that creeps by, Aang fears he will not make it. His legs feel like they are moving through mud as he runs to intercept the archer's target.
Aang reaches Toph and shoves her away just as the air currents ripple again.
Pain explodes in the middle of his back, stabbing through him like lightning.
(glowing eyes, arrow tattoo)
He falls to his knees.
(flash of white-hot pain)
His ears are ringing. He's not sure if it's because of the blood roaring in his head or if it's because of the screams.
(faltering)
He stares at the glint of metal jutting out from his abdomen and distantly wonders why his robes are darkening and why he can taste copper in the back of his mouth.
(falling)
He lists to the side, but someone catches him before his head strikes the hard ground. There is now a frantic voice, and despite the panic in its tone, he feels a sense of comfort and safety wash over him.
He opens his eyes (when did he close them?) to see bright blue eyes staring down at him—Katara. There are tears in her eyes and a waver in her voice as she shouts at him. Though the words themselves are lost in the clouded, muddled fog in his brain, he hears them.
Don't leave, her tone begs.
Don't go.
Don't die.
Stay with me.
He tries to say, "Always," but what comes out in place of words is red liquid spurting from his lips.
He feels her tears splatter on his face as her trembling hands flatten on his abdomen.
The last thing he sees before he is swallowed up by a cool, calming darkness is her eyes, filled with a thousand unspoken regrets and apologies.
He sits on the edge of the ice shelf, looking out to the horizon to behold the orange sun sinking below. Footsteps crunching in the snow behind him is the only warning he gets before she appears next to him.
They simply watch the sun set in a show of orange and red that shimmers on the water, reflected on the ice and snow.
"It's been a long day," he finally says. His voice feels scratchier somehow, older.
"It has," she agrees.
He looks over to her. Her face, once youthful, is now creased with wrinkles and worry lines—the former from age, the latter from having to juggle three rambunctious children.
And still, she was the most beautiful person in the world.
"What would I ever do without you?" he breathes, awestruck and filled with a sudden adoration for his wife.
She chuckles. "I don't know. Maybe you'd feel lost. Alone. Incomplete."
Aang could only stare at her, dumbfounded. "How do you know?"
Katara sits next to him and takes his hand, looking at him softly. "Because that's how I feel when I'm without you."
Overcome with sudden love, Aang leans forward to kiss her forehead.
"I love you."
He wakes up slowly.
Aang finds himself staring up at a canvas. He wonders why it's so quiet and why it feels wrong.
He slowly raises himself to a sitting position and looks around. From what he can see, he is in a tent. Through the flaps, he can see activity bustling about, although it didn't feel hostile.
That's when he notices that he is bare-chested. Clean bandages are wrapped around his abdomen, and the shock of agony he remembers feeling has dulled to a steady throbbing in his back.
He looks to his left and finds—
"Katara?"
One instant, Katara has her back turned to him, her fingers twirling about and commanding her element. The next, Aang finds her suddenly clutching him like her life depended on him, her body shaking. She speaks a million words a minute, and though Aang cannot hear them, he understands what she says.
I need you, her tears say.
You complete me.
I don't know what I would do without you.
How incredibly lucky, he thinks to himself as he holds her trembling form in his arms, how incredibly lucky he is to be here, and alive, and holding her. How incredibly lucky he is to have this moment, to hold her and tell her how much he loves her.
He knows that their friendship is—should be enough for him. That is what he told himself all those years ago, and continually every time he sees her chat with another man, or when they part company.
But without her, he isn't Aang—only the Avatar. Without her, he is incomplete. Without her, there is no Aang.
Perhaps it is selfish to want more. Perhaps it is selfish of him to want more than just friendship, when it should be enough for him. It certainly feels selfish, and he cannot help but feel guilty for it.
His only reassurance is that Katara feels the same way.
Air and water.
Sky and sea.
Moon and ocean.
Push and pull.
Balance.
Never one…
For the first time since the war ended, they kiss.
… without the other.
A/N The phrase, "Never one without the other" takes inspiration from League of Legends character Kindred's in-game quotes.