Look Who's Talking

"Zuko."

"Not now," the Fire Lord gritted from his desk, not looking up.

But the voice was insistent. "Zuko."

He'd had enough interruptions. The plans for the invasion were being bogged down by all the stupidity and distractions swirling around the palace. "This better be important because—"

He bit off his words at the sight of his scowling, round-bellied wife.

"It is." Her eyes narrowed. "You've been holing up in your office for weeks! Do you even care about me? About the baby?"

Zuko opened his mouth to respond. Of course he cared! He was planning this war to secure their happiness, wasn't he? All of Fadmon's lies, including this "Zutara" thing, had to be stomped out!

But Katara raised a hand to stop the words she seemed able to predict. "I know the war is important to you, but I want the baby to know you, too. And I want you to share this experience with me. I can't carry him all by myself." Her hand smoothed over the roundness of her tummy in big, soothing circles.

"He hasn't even been born yet. What do you expect me to do?" he asked irately.

"Walk with me in the garden. Hold me in your arms and tell me you love me and that I'm beautiful, even though I'm as round as a pot-bellied mongoose-beaver. Talk to the baby so it knows your voice." Her voice was deadly quiet. Not pleading or whiny, not complaining or admonishing. It was a simple request from a wife to her husband.

Zuko felt like a complete heel.

He immediately got up from his desk. The look of contrition glittering in his eyes said more than words could, and Katara accepted it with an answering smile.

Taking her hand, they walked out to the turtle-duck pond and sat under a tree, his wife couched in the circle of his arms with one leg on either side of her considerable girth. She tucked her head beneath his chin, and they just sat like that for a good long while.

A breeze sighed through the leafy canopy, bringing with it the sweet fragrance of jasmine and lilac. Zuko felt his muscles unclench and his angry, guilty frown melt from his brow. And as she began humming a lullaby, he suddenly remembered why he'd married Katara.

"Talk to our baby," she said, guiding his hand to the taut curve of her belly. "Tell him about yourself."

Awkwardly, Zuko poised himself above his wife's roundness.

"Uh…hey there…champ," he said to his unborn child. "How's it going?"

No response. Zuko frowned.

"Just tell him about your day, or your family," Katara encouraged, and to his skeptical look, said, "just do it for me."

He leaned a little closer and cleared his throat. "Well, you know how palace life is..." He scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, you will know when you're older. I mean, it's not going to be like my childhood—the bad parts, anyhow. It better not be. Wouldn't that just be ironic if it were? Hah…hah…"

He withered under his wife's pained look.

Clearing his throat, he went on. "Your grandmother and grandfather are getting along with everyone here…which is really surprising since Dad was always trying to kill me and stuff." His laughter was brittle. "Try to be nice to him, okay? He's still your grandfather.

"You'll love your great-uncle Iroh. I don't know what to tell you about him except that he's the best uncle in the world…except when he's on an energy tea kick, or is chasing women half his age, or…you know what? You'll meet him and you can decide what you think of him then.

"Your aunt Azula…well, she's just crazy. But she's making a cousin for you to play with, so try to get along." He thought a moment. "Just don't trust him. Or your aunt, for that matter."

"Tell him about the future," Katara murmured, snuggling against her husband, lulled by Zuko's husky voice.

"The war against Fadmon is…" he hesitated "…it's coming along. We should be able to launch the first wave in a month or two." He stopped. "Wait, when are you due?"

Katara's face was blank, but her cobalt eyes glinted with daggers. "In a month or two."

"Oh." Zuko fidgeted and quickly changed topic and addressed the baby. "Your life is going to be great, I promise you that. I'll be here, and your mom will be, too. Except for Fadmon, we don't have any enemies to worry about. You'll be the first royal baby in three generations born during a time of peace. Well, relative peace, anyhow. One day, you'll be the Fire Lord. And you won't have all the crazy problems I had." He paused, and conceded, "Have."

Katara giggled.

"Well, assuming your mom hasn't been eating curry and making you all cranky," he teased. "You haven't, have you?"

"Just a little," Katara admitted sheepishly. "But the baby wanted something spicy."

He grinned. "Maybe he'll be a Firebender after all."

"Oh!" Katara sat up. She grabbed her husband's hand and guided it along the taut curve of her stomach.

Zuko's heart did a backflip as he felt the strong pulse of his child's kick against his palm.

"Oh…oh my…"

"Say it again."

"Say what?"

"The thing about being a bender."

He bent low and whispered to Katara's belly: "You're going to be a great bender."

Kick. Kick. Kick.

Zuko never thought he could be reduced to tears after being kicked by a child.