Author's Note: Still learning! Be patient, leave reviews, thank you for reading in the first place. Season 2 will probably be posted in a week or so. Characters, world, etc of Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to its creators who are not me.
After: The Siege of the North
Sleep weighed on Aang like a heavy blanket. It slowed his movements, smothered his breathing. His eyelids seemed to have a mind of their own, sliding shut as soon as his attention was diverted away from actively keeping himself awake.
Despite his exhaustion, Aang was doing everything in his power to keep himself from going to sleep. The past two days had brought so much turmoil, he dreaded what would happen when it finally claimed him. On the occasions his eyes did shut, seemingly of their own accord, flashes of the siege would return to him. A gray twilight. Visions of the world through a blood red film. The bright, flashing lights and the strange, alien mind of the Ocean spirit, a dreadful, avenging angel that wrought havoc upon the forces of the Fire Nation.
He blinked back the memories. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid. Although Chief Arnook was still in the midst of addressing his senior council about his tribe's recovery and rehabilitation following the attack, Aang stood abruptly. He knew what the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe was saying was important, but he couldn't think of a surer way to fall asleep than to stay in a council chamber listening to the Northern Water Tribe Elders argue about financial recovery stipends and work parties.
He heard Chief Arnook pause his address. Aang could feel the eyes of all the council members upon him, and he realized that standing to leave in the middle of the Chief's speech could be considered rude.
He placed his fist against his palm and bowed to the Chief. "I beg your pardon, Chief Arnook, but I must excuse myself. I…" he cast around in his mind for a legitimate excuse, but exhaustion slowed his thinking, and none came to mind.
Fortunately, he was saved by Chief Arnook's kind nature. "Of course, Avatar Aang," the Chief said, standing to bow in return. "You must be tired. You have done me and my tribe a great service. If you need anything, do not hesitate to let us know. Otherwise, we shall not disturb you. If you wish to rejoin us, we will be continuing this meeting until dinner time."
"Thank you, Chief," he answered, ignoring the looks of disapproval from some of the more senior statesmen.
Aang pulled back his chair and exited the chamber, but did not head to the rooms Chief Arnook had set aside for him and his companions in the palace. Fire Nation soldiers had destroyed the lavish yurt that had housed them upon their arrival, but the palace rooms were just as comfortable, with thick furs and soft cushions covering every surface of the apartments. The mere thought of that kind of warmth and comfort sent his eyelids drooping, but he had no wish to spend the next few hours in the throes of nightmares of drowned Fire Nation soldiers, or to relive the immeasurable grief of the Ocean spirit at the loss of his partner.
An ornate door made of ice, covered in beautiful illustrations of the very same spirits who now plagued his memories, caught his eye. He made his way over to it, pushing through to step outside onto a large platform that overlooked the whole of the great Northern City.
He sighed. Although the Waterbenders had been working night and day since the Fire Nation siege, the damage to the city was still great. Only days before, the city had been a pristine, glowing white and blue, but the exhaust of dozens of Fire Navy ships had stained it a filthy gray. Here and there, great burn marks stretched like ugly scars across the beautiful architecture. Buildings lay open to the elements, roofs melted and walls caved outward, blocking the great canals that the people of the city used to travel. It would take months, maybe years, to repair the physical damage that the Fire Nation had wrought in just one night.
A frigid breeze swirled around him, and of its own accord, a memory took hold of him. He awoke in a frozen cave, Zuko seated across from him. Aang closed his eyes, trying to banish the vision from his mind. His gut churned at the memory of the horror of meeting with Koh, the face-stealing spirit, to departing the spirit world, only to find himself in Zuko's clutches. When he had last been in the physical world, Katara had been there protecting him. If he was with Zuko now, what had happened to Katara? What had he done to her?
Cold fear gripped him, and despite the freezing temperatures, sweat formed on his brow. He took a deep breath to bring himself back to the present. Katara had been just fine. She had shown up only moments later, in perfect health, to Zuko's great disadvantage. She had dispatched him quickly, even effortlessly, but the thought of what could have happened left him feeling weak and breathless.
After journeying across the entire world, the siege wasn't his first experience with the effects of a one hundred year world war. But it was certainly the most visceral. He had never been so afraid for his friends before. For Katara. He was almost grateful for the things that had happened after she had saved him from Zuko. With the death of the Moon Spirit and the immense wrath of the Ocean Spirit, his apprehension over Katara's well-being was almost forgotten. Almost.
He knew that Sokka could attest to how easy it was to lose someone you cared about. Aang had never seen Sokka in such despair before. Although he wanted to serve as a source of strength and comfort for his friend, a deeper, more secret part of himself shied away from that kind of grief and pain. Aang hadn't actually witnessed Yue make her noble sacrifice, but a dark part of his mind substituted Yue's lifeless body with Katara's.
His panic was acute to the point of nausea. Aang thought it would almost have been better if he had seen it. Maybe then his waking nightmares wouldn't be quite so vivid.
Looking across the frozen city, Aang knew he would be plagued by memories of the siege for the rest of his life.
He was disrupted from his thoughts by a light crunching noise behind him, the sound of footsteps on the hard packed ice. A soft scent of spice and flowers was carried on the breeze, and before he even turned, he knew it was Katara.
The look on her face as her eyes met his spoke volumes. He was struck with the realization that no one in this world understood him the way she did. The world was made better with her in it. He hardly needed a series of increasingly dark nightmares to tell him that losing her would be a loss akin to that of the loss of his people. They had been through so much together. So many trials had brought them here. A feeling of determination coursed through him. He had to protect her. He had to protect the world. He had to succeed.
Both of them stepped forward at the same time, and without speaking, they pulled each other into a warm embrace. Her cheek rested against his shoulder, and he felt her cold nose rubbing against his neck. Knowing she would pull away soon, his arms tightened.
Momo purred behind them, and they separated. Katara's voice was lighthearted as she called to him to join them, and Aang held his arm up for Momo to climb on. From behind them, Sokka came through the ornate door to stand beside them as they looked over the great city. Although the North Pole could not hide its battle scars, Aang realized he stood upon one of the last free cities in the world. They had done that. He had done that.
The sun burned above the great city as Appa joined them on the platform, ready to face whatever the day brought them.