The crickets were chirping a dissonant nighttime song as Katara made her way back to the inn, her thoughts jostling in her head with increasing discomfort the further she walked. She didn't know exactly how much time had passed in front of the fortune-teller's fire but the moon was much higher in the sky than it had been on the way to Aunt Wu's.
Katara still didn't know what to make of Aunt Wu's pronouncement. You will not have as much time with him as you would like. The words rang like a gong in her mind and caused her to physically wince. Utterly lacking in tools to process this disquieting mystery for the time being, she formed a box in her mind around it and wedged it shut.
Then, oh Spirits, there was Aang's near-panicked reluctance to have his fortune told by the fire in that cavernous, incense-soaked room. Katara now thought she had a pretty good idea why. Fuck. A young married couple, walking into a fortune-teller's shop. She clenched her hands into fists as she walked.
The question of whether she and Aang would have children, specifically airbending children, was an ever-present storm cloud hanging over their union. They both studiously tried not to think about the issue, waiting to cross that bridge when they came to it, but were forced to consider it with startling frequency by tactless nobility at parties.
In fact, just a few days ago at a banquet in the Fire Palace, one of Zuko's oldest, crustiest courtesans had approached the couple and asked "how they were planning on popping out an entire new Air Nation all by themselves." Mai, overhearing, had hissed at him to get the hell out, but the damage was done. Katara knew her husband was afraid of putting any kind of undue pressure on her over something neither of them could control. She also knew that if he became certain he was the last airbender ever, his heart would shatter and she didn't know if even she was expert enough to put it back together. If this had been on Aang's mind tonight, of course his avoidant nature would have sent him running at even the chance of settling this question before he was ready. Would he ever be ready, though? she thought. Even if Aunt Wu saw little airbenders in their future, if she told him that, and turned out to be wrong…
Katara let out a strangled scream of frustration. She was passing through a densely populated area and was acutely aware of the dozens of sleeping villagers within earshot but couldn't bring herself to care.
When she reached the inn, Katara paused at the front step and shook herself, doing her best to dislodge the anxiety that had wrapped around her like a thick cloak, to leave it piled at the entryway. She braced a hand against the door frame and waited until her heartbeat had slowed to a more moderate pace. She pushed open the front door, setting off the bell, and stole down the hallway that led to their room before the fawning innkeeper could appear.
Katara entered the bedroom and shut the door quietly behind her. The low table was now bare. Chun must have come by to clear it. Her husband was already asleep; he looked peaceful, his bare chest slowly rising and falling. The sight of him made her heart squeeze painfully.
Katara shed her dusty travel clothes layer by layer until she was standing fully naked. Aang had opened a window, as was his habit, and a cool night breeze wafted through the darkened room. She shivered. She fished a cotton shift out of her bag and pulled it over her head. Untying her long braid, she massaged her scalp in circles with her fingertips, releasing a faint smell of incense. Something fell on the floor: the daisy Aang had picked on the way into town. She had forgotten it was still there. Katara bent down, picked up the slightly wilted flower, and contemplated it for a moment. She went back to her bag and rummaged through it until she found the book on healing she had been reading earlier. She opened the book to a page about halfway in and carefully flattened the daisy on it. Katara closed the book and returned it to her pack before slipping into bed beside her husband. Aang stirred but did not wake.
She tried to clear her mind and allow dreams to take her, but sleep was predictably elusive. The session with Aunt Wu had unsettled her to the marrow of her bones. She felt like she had been taken apart and put back together again. It didn't help that even the simple fact of being back in this place she remembered from so long ago had created an itch in her memory her mind was stubbornly trying to scratch.
Katara turned her head and stared out the window, taking in the view of the steep slopes of Mount Makapu, outlined in cool moonlight. Her thoughts drifted gradually to their last visit to this village, a time when everything was somehow both simpler and more complicated all at once.
Years earlier, in this same odd little town, it had first occurred to her that she might be falling in love with the man sleeping beside her. In retrospect, she had known on some subterranean level that very day that it was the truth. She had pushed her feelings down out of a deep-rooted need, born from experience, to keep her heart protected in case of the worst. That way she could be strong for everyone who needed her.
When the war was over, balance was restored to the nations and the world was safer. She had soon realized, to her dismay, this did not mean that the lives of those she cared for the most were no longer in jeopardy. She had to learn to love with her whole self, even when it was dangerous. Especially when it was dangerous. It had been slow and difficult, and she knew the fear would never leave her entirely, but nothing in her life had ever felt more healing. Aang had helped her learn. This was his gift to her, one she would treasure for her whole life. She thought, distantly, that maybe this gift would help her deal with Aunt Wu's prediction, whatever it meant. She tried not to examine this too closely, yet.
In the darkness, Katara squeezed herself up beside her husband, laying her head on one side of his chest and her palm on the other. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the dual rhythms of his heart beating and his chest rising and falling with even breaths. Both were proof that he was as real as anything; that at this moment he was here, now, with her, safe.
Rather than drifting off, she found herself overcome with a need to look at him. Propping herself up on one elbow, she drew her hand inward to the place her cheek had vacated.
In the light from the waning gibbous moon streaming in through the window, his face was a landscape of shadows and silver-lit forms. Dark lashes brushed the tops of sculpted cheekbones. His full lips were just barely parted, and unbidden her mind overlaid an image of them from earlier in the day, when they were quirked impishly just before some joke he had made to keep her entertained on their long flight. She had to bite her own lip to stifle an unexpected laugh. He was beautiful.
Their journey those years ago had bestowed a hard-won peace on the world, and it had given her this.
The love of this ridiculous, powerful, remarkable man.
She moved her hand from its place over his heart to softly trace lines along the planes of his chest. Despite the cool night air, his skin was warm. Lost in her thoughts, she gradually gained an awareness of being observed. Her eyes flicked to his face. He was watching her, silently, his gray eyes not fully open.
They held each other's gaze for a few heartbeats.
"Hey," he murmured.
"Hi," she whispered, a little guiltily at having woken him up and, vaguely, at being caught.
"Something on your mind?" he asked.
"You."
He chuckled groggily and reached a hand up to cover her own still laying on his chest.
"I love you so much, Aang," she said.
"Oh, sweetie." He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a slow kiss to her knuckles. "I love you too."
Aang's eyes gradually opened wider, fighting off the drowsiness, and she could tell he was studying her, reading her. "How'd it go with Aunt Wu?" he ventured.
Katara hesitated. "It was kind of… vague. It was different than before. I think… I need to think about it some more."
"Ok. Well, if you want to talk about it you know I'm always here to listen."
"I know." She meant it. "Thank you."
She wondered if she should tell him what was inside the box she had just constructed in her head, even if she didn't know exactly what there was to tell. She wondered if, just maybe, he already knew.
"I'm sorry for leaving so quickly back there," Aang said. "I just, I couldn't—"
Katara wasn't going to make him say it out loud. "No, it's ok, love, it's—I know. It's alright," she brought her hand to his face and stroked her thumb along the ridge of his cheekbone. "Please don't worry about it. I couldn't bring myself to ask about that, either. Our family is our business, nobody else's. What will come will come."
Aang looked briefly surprised, then a deep wordless understanding passed between the two of them and he closed his eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly.
Katara gazed at him, chewing her lip. "You know," she said, desperate for him to stop looking so sad, "being back here… it's making me think about the beginnings of everything. Of us."
To her relief Aang smiled wistfully, opened his eyes, and shifted onto his side to face her better. "Me too. Do you remember going up on Appa and bending the clouds together?"
Katara nodded, picturing the azure and white sky, the soft clouds streaming around them with their combined efforts. "That was a pretty smart idea, wasn't it?"
"We certainly had our moments," Aang chuckled. "'The symbol for volcanic doom'," he recited. "If only all our problems were so easy to solve."
"If you think it would help I could sneak over to the Earth King's palace and do a little cloud manipulation during the negotiations next week," Katara suggested. "I'd bet at least a few of the more superstitious diplomats would buy it."
Aang hummed, pretending to mull it over. "I hope it won't come to that but I'll definitely let you know if I need some eleventh-hour assistance."
"Anything for you," Katara assured him.
"I know," he said. He meant it.
There was silence for a moment, as Aang's eyes traced the features of his wife's face.
"I can't remember if I ever told you, but the only reason I dragged Sokka up Mount Makapu in the first place was to find a rare type of flower so I could give it to you. A panda lily, I think. Spirits, Katara… you had such a hold on me even back then. I didn't know if you would ever feel the same way."
Katara felt a pang in her chest. She ran her fingers along his collarbone.
"What I feel for you now is so strong, I can't believe I could ever have hidden it. From you, or from myself." She looked directly into his eyes, letting the emotion she saw there wash over her.
"Thank you for not giving up on me," she whispered.
Aang looked almost stricken. "Katara… that's not… it was never even a question."
With the bewildered expression not yet gone from his face, he grasped her jaw and kissed her firmly.
"My love," he murmured against her lips. "I would have waited for you for a thousand lifetimes. Sometimes it feels like I have."
Katara released a shuddering breath and melted fully into him. Her mouth sought the heat of his as if it were the last fire in the dead of winter's night.
Aang was here, and he loved her, and as long as that was true everything would be ok. It had to be.
He pushed her onto her back and moved his body over hers. Her hands splayed over the sides of his face as she reveled in the feeling of his lips against hers, in the taste of him. The heat radiating off his body, so overwhelmingly close, quickened her pulse and she arched into him instinctively. She slid one of her legs against his and lifted it up to rest her heel on his lower back.
Aang began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of her neck. Katara's mind evacuated of anything but the sensations of the man above her. He was so precious to her. Her fingernails scraped lightly across the taut grooves of the muscles in his shoulders. She felt like a live wire, her skin sparking everywhere his lips touched.
Encountering the neckline of her thin nightdress, Aang sat back on his heels and looked at her with a question in his eyes. Katara wriggled out of her shift and lay back on the pillows, watching as her husband raked his eyes hungrily across her newly-bare form. She waited for him to step out of the loose pants he had worn to bed, and saw how badly he already wanted her. The draft from the window cooled spots on her neck and chest, still damp from his mouth, sending a small tremor through her. But the warm pressure of his body returned as quickly as it had gone, the contact now unbroken by cloth.
A moan escaped from her throat.
As they lost themselves entirely in each other, Katara had the feeling she could love this man for a thousand lifetimes. She told him as much, breathlessly, and the next kiss he gave her felt like he was trying to merge their two souls into one.
Afterwards, they held each other in the moonlight, breaths slowing in tandem.
As she was crossing just past halfway between waking and sleeping, Katara had a wayward thought.
"Aang?"
"Mmm?"
"The rock left over from the volcano erupting is a tourist attraction," Katara mumbled, barely able to articulate the syllables.
Aang snorted softly and held her closer to him. They both drifted, exhausted, into a dreamless sleep.
…..
In the morning, Katara and Aang stepped out of the inn to find that news of the Avatar and his celebrated waterbending companion's arrival had spread like wildfire overnight.
They were immediately surrounded by a throng of admirers. As they became separated by the dynamics of the crowd, Aang shot her an apologetic glance. Here we go, thought Katara.
Each fell into their by now well-practiced motions of fan-greeting. They graciously returned bows, answered eager questions, and ruffled the hair of several children each. Eventually, Katara told one particularly chatty woman, "I'm sorry, I have to go find my husband."
When she located him again, Aang was holding a cup of shaved ice decorated with what was unmistakably his own face, looking deeply confused.
"Will you explain this to me?" he tilted the cup to show her.
Katara burst out laughing. "Oh no, wise Avatar, I'm going to let you meditate on that one." She grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of the central village market.
At the market, they picked up a few extra supplies for the remainder of their journey to Ba Sing Se. Katara spotted a vendor selling some unusual types of melons and chose a few for Appa. When she brought them over to Aang to show him, he shyly held out a pin he had just bought for her, in the shape of a panda lily. She allowed him to fasten it to her tunic before setting down her basket, grabbing him by the collar, and kissing him right there in the center of the market. He was unable to form a sentence for a gratifyingly long moment after that.
Aang and Katara walked back to where Appa was waiting at the edge of town. The bison bellowed happily when he recognized his family, and roared even louder when he noticed the melons they had brought for him.
After stowing their bags in the saddle, the pair sat side by side on Appa's head. Katara slipped her arm around her husband's. Aang picked up the reins.
"All right, Appa, yip yip."
And away they flew.
Katara glanced back just once, before they had gotten too far above the tree line, the wind beginning to buffet her face. She could just make out the shaggy white head of hair standing post outside Aunt Wu's door, the large building unmistakable even from the air. A spark of agitation flared in her stomach.
She would just have to put the reading out of her mind. She could do that, right? It's not like she didn't already know he had a dangerous job. And, nobody lives forever, right? That's part of what makes life itself so precious, after all. And, like Aang had said, there was no use worrying about things in advance if there was nothing you could do about them. She squeezed his arm a bit tighter.
"Anyway," Aang said out loud, in response to nothing except the conversation he had been having inside his own head, "you're my future, Katara."
"You're nuts," Katara replied, and laid her head on his shoulder.
As years turned into decades, the old fortune-teller's murky prophecy would gradually fade into the recesses of her memory. Except when it didn't.
…..
Every once in a while, she would take Aunt Wu's words out of the box in her head and peer at them through her fingers. Trying to understand, trying to brace herself without putting up walls as had once been her impulse. Once, when their children (one airbending, all adored) were mostly grown, Katara broke down sobbing after a particularly harrowing experience involving some enraged spirits who decided they had it out for the Avatar. She had thought this might finally be it, and at last she told Aang what Aunt Wu had said to her all those years before. He was silent for too long, and a chill crept down her spine.
"I think I know what it means," he said slowly. "Recently, I've been talking to the spirits of the other Avatars more, and… those hundred years the Avatar spirit kept me alive in the iceberg… well, it seems that was some of my time."
"Shit, Aang." Her eyes welled over anew as she realized what he meant. "How long do we have?"
"I don't know if I'll make it to sixty-five. Well, a hundred and sixty-five."
"Don't you fucking joke, Aang."
"I'm sorry." A pause. "We still have time, my love."
Katara thought of her own father, in his eighties and still taking his grandchildren on fishing trips whenever they visited the South Pole. She covered her face with her hands, shaking. Almost instantly she felt strong arms wrap around her, holding her tightly, stroking her hair.
"I know it doesn't seem fair, but if I hadn't been frozen I never would have met you at all, Katara. I wouldn't trade the life we have for anything."
Aang held Katara for a long time. Once her eyes dried, she whispered, "I don't want you to go."
He sighed deeply, and Katara could tell without looking that he was blinking back tears. "I don't want to leave you, either. But sometimes, we have to learn how to accept the things we can't change."
It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't FAIR, but she couldn't deny that she had been fortunate, as the old fortune-teller had predicted. She had seen the seeds of peace grow deep roots and wide leaves in her lifetime, tended diligently as they were by herself and her friends. She had three beautiful children who made her so proud she could burst.
And she still had her love, her sweet Aang. Maybe not for as long as she would have liked, but she would figure out how to live with this unwelcome knowledge. To start, she would simply have to love him as fiercely as she could with each new day.
…..
Author's Note:
Thanks for reading! This ended up being a lot sadder than I intended butttt I feel like one of the interesting things about this pair is that they have so much intense sadness and joy interlocked so tightly in their lives sort of by default. I hope I captured that to some extent in this little snapshot. This is my first time writing fanfiction, or really attempting any creative writing during my adult life, so comments or feedback are much appreciated! Be well, everyone.