Note: The prompt for this chapter is Blending Cultures.

Together

The day was beautiful, the sun high and bright and hopeful. Almost a signal to signify the start of new, brilliant things.

The day started out softly, quietly, on the outskirts of sunrise. It was the calmest Katara had ever felt in her whole life. Light streamed through the slit between the heavy curtains, a line of gentle yellow hues. It cast a sweet shade of peacefulness upon her as she got ready for the day.

The dawn before Zuko's coronation was a marker for the beginning of her real life. The kind of life where war did not exist.

She had made it out alive. She survived. She was always a survivor, but this time it was different.

As a child she never thought that the world would ever reach this point, that she would reach this point. It seemed impossible to a fault. Katara was a master waterbender, she had a group of friends from different nations, she was a world traveler. They were all things that helped define who she was now. They were things that she had only ever dreamed of before.

A kind of giddiness filled her when she thought of all the possibilities. That joy and lightness only increased when she finally pushed open the door for her chambers and stepped into the gilded corridor outside.

The Fire Nation palace was not a place she would have called magnificent, especially before, but it had a sort of regal grace to it that she now noticed. It was a helpful bonus that she and her friends resided in the palace for the past few days in preparation for the event that would define their generation.

The wind from the tall, unlatched widows that lined the halls swept past her. A sense of freedom came over her, like she was floating above the world and seeing pinpricks of miniature people below her. If this was what being an airbender was like, she suddenly understood why Aang was the free spirit he was.

She heard his laugh as she neared the entrance to the kitchen, and her heart swelled for him.

When she opened the door, she was met with the sight of his back to her. He was clothed in muted red Fire Nation garments while he waited for the new robes that he would wear for the coronation ceremony later in the afternoon to be ready for him. He stood there, chopping skinned lychees into smaller pieces on a chopping board, humming a song she did not recognize to himself.

A frazzled-looking middle-aged woman with an apron and a disheveled topknot fretted around him like a bee buzzing over a flower. "Oh, please, Avatar Aang…please let me do the cooking!" she begged, clasping her hands together and practically about to fall prostrate on her knees.

Aang chuckled, shaking his head. "It's baking, Aika," he admonished good-naturedly. "Besides, today's a special day!"

To her credit, Aika did try to coax him into letting her do the work herself, but Katara interrupted them with a cough as she stepped through the entryway.

Aang straightened at the sound of the door sliding closed. He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Good morning, Katara!" he said with an enthusiastic tone. "Here for the feast?"

She laughed, walking toward the stove. "You're here early," she observed. She started searching through the cabinets for a pot. "I have to say I'm a little concerned over what Sokka has planned," she mentioned, tossing the comment at him with a levity that she had not felt in years.

"He mentioned something about replicating arctic hen yesterday."

Katara grimaced. "I don't know if I trust him with that," she said. "I'm making seaweed noodles. Hopefully that will cover up whatever mistakes Sokka wants to create."

For the next few minutes, they worked in tandem, side-by-side. The way they danced around each other in the kitchen, from moving at just the right moment when someone was grabbing for a bowl, to blatantly ignoring the cook who desperately wanted to assist, it felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be. Like they were always together, always comfortable, always understood.

Katara liked it…being by Aang's side.

It was easier to think of things like that now that the war was over. She glimpsed Aang from the corner of her eye as he made his way around a mixing bowl, stirring ingredients to make dough. The way the soft light framed his face made him look just like the boy she knew he was, the person she knew he would become. She felt the blush that rose in her cheeks and swiftly turned to focus on the dried seaweed that she mixed into her dish.

As time trickled by, more and more of their friends arrived. Toph and Sokka were more bleary-eyed than Suki and Zuko who were more awake than Katara thought should have been allowed.

Aika was groveling at Zuko's feet as soon as he entered. He held a pot of steaming tea that he looked rather proud of himself for having.

"Oh, Prince Zuko, please forgive this lowly servant for—"

Zuko himself simply raised an eyebrow at her before cutting her off. "You could set us a table, Aika. That would be helpful," he suggested.

Aika snatched the teapot from him with a bow. When she left with such haste that there was a stunned silence in her wake, Zuko added, "What? She likes feeling useful and she wasn't going to leave any time soon."

After a moment, movement resumed. Katara and the others continued their work, some finishing quickly. Aang was already sitting at the island in the center of the kitchen when half an hour passed, his hands and arms covered in flour. There was some that dusted the side of his nose. He was watching the clay oven and would occasionally stand to regulate the flame underneath with his firebending.

Toph stood there nodding or shaking her head with each taste she was offered from Suki. Zuko had taken it upon himself to cook on one of the many stoves that was closest to Sokka. Katara appreciated his foresight because Sokka had begun to raid the pantry for spices that he clearly did not need.

Then, a handful of hours later when it was midmorning, everyone was ready with their food. Just in time, Aika was at the door ready to lead them. Katara took her pot of noodle soup, careful with the handles, and followed behind.

In a sitting room not far from the kitchen was a rather extravagantly set table with polished chopsticks and porcelain plates with high backed chairs that had intricate carvings of dragons. The teapot was in the center, standing atop a short pedestal with a lit candle beneath it to keep it warm. Matching cups were set around it.

They all set out the dishes, laughing and smiling when they sat down to eat.

Katara and Sokka had made traditional dishes from the Southern Water Tribe: seaweed noodles and an unfortunate botched version of arctic hen that Katara was sure was burned at the edges. (And probably burned in the center too.)

"This is jook," presented Suki, sweeping her arm out to gesture at her pot of food. "It's boiled rice porridge. You can add any of the garnishes Toph and I prepared. There's ginger, salted eggs, and bamboo shoots."

Katara saw Zuko give the porridge an odd look.

Toph shrugged. "I didn't really help, but I can tell you it tastes good."

Zuko nodded to his dishes. "I'm not the best at cooking, but I made something easy…Komodo sausages. They were already prepared. I just fried them." He smirked and pointed at a dish next to it. "I'm pretty proud of making this though…it's taro leaves with coconut milk and chilies. My mom used to make it."

Content with the introductions, all of them started to eat. Katara was suddenly so aware of the fact that they could openly sit here in what used to be enemy territory to share their cultures with each other. She was able to try food that she never would have if she was still living in the Southern Water Tribe.

The jook was a perfect blend of starchy textures and the snap of ginger. Zuko's contributions added a spicy kick that she was not used to, but she appreciated the smooth blend of hot and cool that the taro leaves offered.

When the meal ended, her gaze set upon Aang who had stood up. He glowed with excitement, and the thought of him sharing his culture with them made her eyes water. Air Nomad cuisine was special, not only because there was one Air Nomad left, but because it was part of Aang.

"I've always wanted to share this with you guys," said Aang with a grin. He gestured to the spread laid out on the table. Katara giggled when she noticed that he pointedly ignored the horrified expressions that cycled along the cook's face who had tried to help him with the reveal. "An authentic Air Nomad fruit pie! Oh boy, Monk Gyatso and I used to airbend these onto the Council of Elders. He said that it was to test my reflexes, but I always thought it was hilarious when Dote said that it was really to test their reflexes."

His hand made a whirl of air above the round pie, and a bouncy top of swirled yellow cream appeared at the center. He cut into it with a knife, offering pieces to everyone.

Katara let the taste of sweet lychee settle on her tongue. "This is delicious, Aang!" she exclaimed.

He smiled at her. "I'm glad," he replied. The answer was bittersweet somehow. He took a bite, and he looked lost in thought, rubbing the back of his head in a constant, subconscious motion.

Katara was worried for him. She placed a hand on his, hoping another kind expression from her would urge him to bring up his mood.

"I just wish Gyatso was here," Aang informed her in his quiet way.

"I know," she said, just as quietly. "But in a way…he is here. He taught you how to make this."

For a while that was all Aang needed to hear.

It was a simple thing from then to go to the coronation. Their stomachs were full; a warmth was there because of it. The bustling crowds were not a hindrance when all of them had spent the time they needed with each other before the world needed them again.

Katara had put on her best clothes, and she stood in the courtyard near Sokka and their father. She watched as Zuko was introduced as Fire Lord, as he officially announced the end of the war, as Aang walked up to the forefront in his new Air Nomad robes, a golden beacon of faith and peace.

He gazed out into the crowds below, and she could not take her eyes off him.

"The war is over!" people yelled over and over. It was thrilling and it felt like an illusion that could not possibly be true. But Katara basked in it anyway.

There were celebrations commencing right in front of the palace as soon as the Fire Sages had adjourned the coronation. People shouted their praises, dancing to tunes only they could hear. She searched for her friends, wading through the people from all over the world, blending cultures in a fashion they had ever gotten to before.

She saw a flash of yellow, and she reached through the armor and the fabrics that separated her from it. She caught Aang's sleeve.

She met Aang, who looked both happy and exhausted. A tiredness around his eyes that no one else seemed to have. He rubbed the back of his head. Too many people were talking at him, over him, trying to get his attention. She grasped his shoulder and leaned in. "Let's get out of here," she whispered in his ear.

He looked at her and she saw an understanding there and gratefulness.

He took her hand. His eyebrows scrunched together. He raised his free hand to his temple.

Then, without warning, he looked scared. Terrified even. He turned his head as if searching for something, but unable to find it.

He gripped her hand tighter, and his eyes flashed into a daunting purple light.


Note: Zuko's dish made of taro leaves, coconut milk, and chilies is loosely based on a Filipino (specifically Bicolano) dish called laing. The one he makes contains no seafood or meat.