Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar or anything associated with it except my fanfiction

To say this past week has been rough is... well.

Likewise with this chapter. I did my best, though it is rushed.

Snow.

Believing he was almost delirious, Aang stuck his tongue out. But his tongue did not betray the delirium. When the sensation of the first frosty needle settled, he almost leapt for joy.

He did leap, regardless, to tell the others. But there was no need. Sokka was already standing, hands cupped and outstretched, capturing as many of the floating crystals as he could. Ty Lee, though sat over Katara, stared with wide-eyed wonder at the sky.

It was snowing.

Aang couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face. Nor did he try to. Somehow, tenured in the Ba Sing Se, the thought of snowflakes had melted away under the sun as meetings and advisories flooded his life in their place. The sun and the clouds and the rain and the wind had become his life, and without travel to the Poles for eons, Aang remembered snow as little more than a fairy tale. But here, in the now, the snow was a fairy tale - a real, magical tale filled with joy and promise, and a reminder of something more than the drivel of the ground or the machinations of the sun.

And the snow was a sight. At first, only one or two strays glided towards the bison, their brief kisses on skin so fleeting as to be figments of wishes and miracles. But within the span of blinks, the flakes became flurries, enough to be seen everywhere at every turn, but not heavy enough to obstruct sight. Even the weary Appa stuck his tongue out in curiosity and Momo began an elaborate dance to dodge the snow, albeit with marked screeches signaling unsuccess.

The snow eventually abated - as it always did - but as the skies cleared, something else in the distance took their minds and elation off the snow.

"Land spotted!" Aang crowed, standing on Appa's head, the grin now with no cause to disappear.

"And - wait. There's no way that's home..." Sokka, forgetting about the saddle, crawled past Appa's neck in awe. "I swear, you look away for one moment and the place follows a function of exponential growth!"

"Stop nerding out, Sokka," Aang said dryly. Sokka frowned and snorted. Then Aang leaned in, conspiratorially, to Sokka's ear. "Logistic growth. Just wait till there's no more room to grow."

Sokka gaped at Aang. The airbender only shrugged. "Hey, you left one of your scrolls open."

A smirk tugged at Sokka's mouth. "So you actually read it?"

"Well, I thought it was going to be something official. Or important. But it was math."

A scandalized Sokka dropped his smirk with his jaw. Aang never knew a jaw could drop down so far - it might as well have been dangling just above Appa's head. Laughing at the comical reaction, he patted Appa's head appreciatively and praised the wonderful bison's determination, prepared the reins for landing, and sombered as he checked on Ty Lee and Katara. They had taken shifts in watching Katara, and Ty got the short end of the stick, since Aang guiding Appa and Sokka handling the navigation and the weather left Ty with the longer end of the shifts.

"Nothing new's happened. A bit of a raise in the fever, but it was mild to begin with... still being careful, though. I don't want..." Ty grimaced, almost obsessed over Katara's well-being. "Anyways. We were running a bit low on water, so it's good that we're going to be landing soon. Would be nice to try and bend some snow into water right now, though," Ty Lee muttered. She blinked, finally seeming to realize Aang was in front of her. "At least, it seems like we're landing soon? The snow is a bit... bright. Like the sun! But also, everywhere. Which is a bit..."

Aang nodded in understanding. "Not quite what you're used to, is it?"

Ty sighed, although concern was not the only mood laced into the wondrous breath. "No. But... is it always like this?"

"It is. White all the time, I mean. The days do get shorter, though, the later in the year it gets. Not by much, but it does help with the glare, even if it doesn't fix the cold," Aang laughed. "Hopefully the coat is alright?"

"It's comfy!" Piped Ty, eagerly offering up her covered arms. Under such short notice of Ty's coming, they had not the time nor material to source Ty a coat, and Katara, Team Avatar's only tailor, humble though her expertise was, did not possess the capacity to fashion a properly-fitted garb in preparation for the South. At the moment, she wore one of Aang's spare Watertribe coats, which were quite big for her considering Aang's growth spurt. Her frame barely held up the shoulders of the robe, and her arms were utterly engulfed by the swarming mass of fabric. "Maybe... a smidge big?" She mused, experimentally holding a oversized sleeve to her face. "But that's fine! No, it's great, even! I love it! Because I get to do this!" She playfully swatted an hanging sleeve at Aang, who barely sidestepped the whiplike jibe in time.

How is she not an airbender, yet so fast? He mused, as Ty suddenly tackled him in a particularly warm hug and drew - even under the crushing suffocation of the heavy fabric - Aang's second smile of the day.

"Okay, okay!- Glad you like it. The coat's cozy and all, and it's very hearty and... hefty... in hugging," Aang wheezed anxiously, as the need for air returned with an endearing swiftness.

Ty Lee got the message. "Sorry," she said, somewhat apologetically. Aang shook his head, the smile not leaving his face until Katara moaned beside them and reality returned in a rush.

"Gotta check up on Appa. Momo? Could you glide down and pay Hakoda a visit? He'll probably have treats for you, and some premeditated anticipation of our arrival wouldn't hurt his good will towards me- er, us." Aang chided himself for the fumble. Sometimes, in his pursuits for Katara, he sometimes confused the father of his interest with the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Regardless, whether emergency or currying favor, proper notification - or at least, an early one - could make a large difference in affability and communications.

"Math is important!" Sokka screeched, finally overcoming his stunned indignation. Realizing no one was close to him anymore, he blinked, swiveling his head this way and that as he scoured for Aang, who was ambling back towards him.

Ty Lee stifled a quick giggle before returning to tending to Katara.


It was lonely.

It was ironic, too. How far his city had come, from little more than tents and recesses in the ground for the campfire that cooked enough food to feed the whole tribe, to... this.

This palace.

This city.

This... monstrosity?

Hakoda shook his head. Monstrosity was far too wicked a word for the development of the Southern Water Tribe. It was, in many ways, vast improvement over old. But all the same, "blessing" would have missed as much as "monstrosity." Because even if it was good...

Hakoda shivered, the cold in the midst of its first seeps into his body. He had been warned of this, of course. The young were able to bear more of the cold than could any old man. But Hakoda, in all the mirth and action of his life, easily forgot his age even as the ages flew past... as War turned to Peace turned to Reconstruction turned to...

Well. It was as it is. Hakoda was not an iceberg to drift off to sea. He had ensured that the transition to this new way of life would be borne as easily as possible, even if some Northern Water Tribe choices were... not exactly palatable. But as he reminded those who were disgruntled, and those who would attempt to enforce concrete philosophy of life - water was not an element to remain as it was for hundreds of years. It flowed. And eventually, when the South gained a voice of its own, and remembered its song from before the howls of war, then, perhaps, the South would sing again, and those Northern Walls would be reformed, recast, reshaped, into something distinctly Southern Water Tribe.

But regardless, the monumental efforts led in large part by their Northern brothers and sisters were not simple tokens to toss. There would be memorials and memoriams to enshrine the efforts of those with nothing but goodwill... except, perhaps, a little bit of self-intent. But that always existed.

Hakoda left his own house - though updated in construction to fit the theme of the surrounding, expanding land, Hakoda made sure the size did not follow suit. It was a cozy abode, reminiscent of the old days when he could carry Sokka and Katara in each of his hands as they laughed and squirmed and shouted, maybe in some annoyance, but also in endearment.

The days of Kya...

The bittersweetness came and went, as it always did. Katara did confide in him about some of her theories about... Kya's sacrifice. He did not know what to make of them. He did not want to make of them, save that it was yet another fragment of his past life, with not even their old tent left...

But there was always Katara. And Sokka.

Sokka he only spared a quick thought towards. He would always be fine. He took after him quite nicely. On Yue, Hakoda felt certain that even the wildest of antics (not the most dangerous though - there was a steady difference between the two that Hakoda made sure was always clear in his mind) of Sokka were still somewhat eclipsed by Hakoda's. Not that they made any difference - different times and different circumstances forged difference people, and Hakoda was very much proud of how close yet how far the iceberg drifted from the mainland.

There was Katara, though. A smirk flitted across his face, then weariment settled. In truth, he was not particularly happy about the current arrangement between the Avatar and his daughter. Granted, he was happy for them, and even thought them a great match, but this was a given. What was not a given were the cultural and societal implications of such courtship. Every time there was a visit, there was never a moment free of the strangely charged atmosphere that sparked between the Avatar and... Hakoda. Especially considering the almost vainglorious efforts Aang put into gaining Hakoda's approval. There was nothing to gain approval for. Aang already had it.

Hakoda. Hakoda. He was a bit uneasy with the Chief title still. Such things were not so pronounced when the community was small and close and tight-knit, but... different circumstances.

He sighed. His mind. It was certainly slower and more manageable than in youth, but all the same, it did flow through ideas very quickly. He only had a few moments to spare them, of course, but all the same the difficulties in "choosing his icebergs," as his father once said, were certainly annoying. Especially when, in his age, he found it harder and harder to recall exactly the thought that transpired before the other...

Katara. Yes. And Aang.

He wished courtship were not a thing. Not to the extent of elopement, of course... but enough to dispel the discomfort the Avatar felt around him. At least enough so that the delicate dances and customs could be avoided. Goodness knew how much Katara and Aang and Sokka - and all the rest of them, as well - had endured. Leave the pomp to those who could still afford pretention. Not those who could ill afford it.

He walked along, the snow crunching lightly under his boots. There was a light flurry, but that did not last long. The city bustled around him, and above, and below, and in front and behind. It was something to be used to, for certain.

He was so engrossed in the traffic and the greetings and discussions along the way that he almost missed the tap and the screech in the ear.

"What-" he whipped around, then winced. Years of incessant battle, coupled with his aging bones, made for interesting reactions and subreactions. It would definitely be a source for some good puns, he thought wryly, but that would have to be for another time. "Hello, Momo. What brings you here?"

The flying lemur, unexpectedly alarmed yet put-together, gesticulated wildly towards the sky. His mouth opened and closed, likely in talk that Hakoda couldn't hear. But he was used to communicating in silence, and with the flying lemur. Somewhat surprisingly, he managed to figure out Momo's message almost immediately, something that tickled him with satisfaction.

"So they are here, you say?" Momo nodded vigorously, and Hakoda smiled. But then the lemur continued on, and began communicating something Hakoda was not sure he saw. That he hoped he didn't see.

"Wait... so they're here. And... they have trouble?"

Momo nodded. Hakoda's face set. It looked like some preparation was in order.

The last time Momo had signaled for trouble was when their ship had been stormed during the Hundred Years' War.


Hakoda was there to greet them when Appa finally landed.

Aang muttered into Appa's ear: "I'll get to you soon. Gotta... you know."

Glancing anxiously at Katara, he bounded off the bison, skipping towards Hakoda.

Hakoda nodded somberly. "What tidings, Avatar. Your message was delivered successfully - and quite a succinct message it was. And your face corroborates this emergency. Perhaps you wish to tell-"

"Oh! Nope! Er, sorry uh..." Aang embarrassingly hopped up and down on one leg. "I was actually wondering... it's been a while. Since we've stopped and landed, I mean. So, uh... Where's an outhouse?"

Hakoda blinked. Then threw back his head and laughed. "I see, Avatar... there should be one around the outskirts of the city. I trust it won't take you long to find -"

And just like that, Aang was a puff of smoke and gone.

Sokka walked up, his face a not-so-reminder of the present.

In his arms he carried Katara.

"She's not... dead. Or badly injured, as far as we can tell," Sokka said, shooting a quick glance towards his sister. "But... she's been in fever, and it's been climbing a bit..."

Katara suddenly moaned, and thrashed about in Sokka's arms, before settling with her hands cradling her head. Sokka scowled, almost losing his sister to the snow, but he recovered in time. "Yes. So... healers. Now."

Hakoda shouted for some healers, and then put an arm around Sokka. "Take her back to our... home." Sokka curled a lip in slight distaste. Although son was certainly more partial to the new than older people - including Hakoda himself - it was never a fond moment when an home changed forever. "That way, we can give her a place to rest. It's also closer than the healers' station to here."

"We should fix that," Sokka noted coolly. "It's more effective for travellers. But also have multiple stations throughout, so everyone has easy access to healing if need be."

Hakoda shrugged. "Perhaps at that. It is the first stages of implementation, but truth be told... things have been progressing slowly. It's incredibly trying to mediate between the people."

Sokka growled. "Can't they see it's the best solution for now? We need the help. We need to grow. Dislikes aside, the North has been very helpful, and even if I understand why people are unwilling to relinquish their old ways, that's no excuse for returning to the same sad state that we were forced into by war!"

"People are slow to change. Even us watertribesmen. But we are making progress, even if it's slow."

"Perhaps," the young man grumbled. But there was something in the start of his gait towards home that was not precisely passive towards the people around them.

Hakoda sighed. Youth. Such energy and vitality. But such impulse.

He turned his attention to the lady who had just came down herself from the bison's saddle. "Welcome to the South, fair one," he said, brandishing a hand. "I hope you find this sight... manageable, if not appealing."

The lady bowed. "Hello, Chief Hakoda. My name is Ty Lee. I just can't get over how amazing the place looks!"

"Perhaps you would like a quick exploration, then?" Hakoda offered.

Ty Lee's face sparked with hope, but quickly dulled. "I can't. It sounds amazing, but I'm sorry I cannot accept the invitation. Katara's..." she stared emptily at Sokka's receding figure.

Hakoda chuckled. "I know. But she's in good hands. The healers will be able to tend to her soon, and in the meantime there is not much else to do but wait. This may be the best opportunity for you to get a breadth for the city, small though the window may be."

Ty Lee's eyes shot up immediately, and before Hakoda knew it, he was left alone again.

Even despite the innocent prattle of the young adults, Hakoda knew there were things afoot. Abhorrent or not, custom at least dictated cordial anticipation. The fact that Aang had arrived on such short notice was unbecoming the anxious young suitor, doubly so by his political significance. Sokka, too, was unusually grim, having not cracked one single pun since he returned home. Granted, Sokka was not quite reclusive yet, but neither was he his usual playfully caustic self. This, more than even the frigid bite of the air, was what made Hakoda's hairs stand. A gust of wind blew.

But this warm wind was not a gale of the South. "Back!" Aang panted, out of breath. "We need to discuss A- where'd everyone go?" Swiveling this way and that, Aang suddenly realized it was only Hakoda and himself left. "Wait... did Katara -"

"She's in safe hands. Make yourself feel at home - it might as well be your second one at this point regardless."

Aang sprinted for the siblings too soon for Hakoda to discern whether he made the young man flush.

Shaking his head, he followed Sokka's freshly imprinted footsteps, but not without a small smile teasing at his face.

Youth.


Snow.

Such incomprehensible folly. Water attempting to become something tangible and permanent, something that strove for eternum. All to be crushed and melted.

Water. What foolish prattle. An element that claimed permanence on change. Such paradoxical principles. One innately could not be permanent if their very essence was changed.

Which was why she liked fire. It always burned, until it didn't. But she did not plan on being snuffed out. Or rather, she had not intended it.

But at least hers would always be blue.

Azula's hands steamed in the frigid air. Any snow that dared to brush her skin was summarily vaporized. She would be the one who decided the fate of herself. Not the whims of flimsy flakes.

She spared a brief glance to her palms. Of course, the slight puncture had not healed satisfactorily, so she had tended to it promptly. The skin looked almost alien, lifeless. Smooth.

Perfect.

Under other circumstances, Azula would have tried experimenting. The scar was strange, certainly, and ruined everything else around it, but the scar itself was pristine. A bit too shiny for her taste, but much, much better than the hideous porous thing of miniscule wrinkles and ridges and other unbecoming sights on her palm.

Unfortunately, the otherwise ugly ridges served purpose for gripping. And though Azula did not know what else she would need to hold, she would not take the risk of removing them.

That, and also the implications of removing them.

Of course, age brought decline. Thoughts became slower and unmanageable. Memory decayed. Movements not as precise nor graceful. All these things, she hated with a passion. It was a weakness of humanity, but more important it was something even she herself could not escape.

And then there was the recovery.

Healing took longer. Too long. And too soon. Her small puncture should have scabbed and halfway healed by this point. But, to her dismay, still her hand had been bleeding slightly on her second day. So she took matters into her own hands.

Azula clenched her fists again, then immediately relaxed them. She cursed. She did not dream that she would need to be so cautious, that she would be so fragile.

It was despicable.

The icebergs danced around, bobbing up and down. If she squinted, she could almost make them appear as if they were nodding and agreeing with her. That she was the best, that she didn't deserve her fate, that she needed to transcend beyond humanity.

But it was no use. A blast of fire melted the surrounding offenders, the unwitting liars. She was not the Avatar. And even incarnations of the Avatar weren't immortal. Nor impregnable. Let alone weak patches of ice. All of which she had proven by her own hand.

But what would she do now with the Avatar?

Nothing.

She would not be doing anything to him. Of course, the destruction of the order of the world would be a devastating blow, but to him she would do nothing. She was done with doing her own work. She would leave that to her pawns.

"I am coming for you..." she purred absentmindedly. Then scowled as she realized she had spoken aloud, unbidden by anything except her deteriorated and deteriorating mind.

Youth... she thought bitterly.


Snow.

Snow, snow, snow.

She could toss it around. She could carve angels into it. She could build snow-penguins. She could sled.

But she spun around, laughing. She could taste the snow she caught in her mouth. It was water, but it was a special water, one that floated through the sky, that fluttered instead of pattered. It tickled and it soothed, and she laughed every time one poked her with its impish dance. She couldn't contain herself, jumping and squealing as she vainly batted at the snowflakes with her mittens.

But then the taste of water turned into the taste of dust. Coughing at the acrid congestion in her throat, she opened her eyes, to see the strangest sight of her life.

Where there had been crystals, there were now blackened flakes drifting along the sky. At first only dotting, the land it did not take long for this strange substance to smother the land in a blanket of night, as the strange flakes grew into a hideous torrent of fragmented night.

Underneath the ashes, Katara spotted the ships.

They were far larger than the dainty little sailboats her dad captained, far larger than anything she could remember, larger than even her entire tribe. Clouds billowed from large poles, darker than even the black snow that was now hailing in droves. Katara looked back to try and run, but to her horror, there was nothing there.

No people. No village. Nothing.

She was suddenly seized by the arms. Barely daring to look up. She cringed away at the shadowed faces behind the fearsome helmets. The faces were disfigured, snarling, all sneering at her, their hatred all focused onto one frightened little girl.

Katara wanted to scream, cry, anything. But before she could even think of opening her mouth, a hand clamped over it. She raised her hands to try to waterbend, but panicked when the snow wouldn't respond. She tried bending the sea, the sea would not respond. Trying to scream, she writhed and wriggled, as the soldier carried her off towards its friend, who eagerly ignited his hands and walked towards her with driven purpose.

She shook her head wildly, trying to escape. She knew the terrible things fire did. She had been burned - when, she did not know, but she knew she had faced the rage of the flame, the memory so burned into her mind. The whiteness, the pain, the screams, the tears and the flash of white and red... and that was only for the briefest of moments, on her hand.

The firebender cackled, an inhuman cross between a screeching dodo and an iguana seal that almost seemed to draw strength from Katara's despair. The sound, which jarred her into silence, was completely contradictory to the almost tender-like gesture of cupping a flickering hand to Katara's face. Her eyes widened.

Desperately, Katara made one last, desperate bid, calling to her senses, summoning what little power she had, redoubling her efforts to slip free, call the water, anything to escape the torment. The laughter was louder now, filling her ears and her senses, mocking stronger and stronger with every failure to free and fend herself. Her vision became blurry with tears. She couldn't escape. She was doomed.

Sobbing and limp, Katara couldn't watch as the flames began to obscure her vision. She stiffened her body, a scream slowly building as the fire burned brighter and brighter and the pain grew and grew -

Until it stopped.

Katara cautiously opened her eyes.

The soldiers had let her go. The fire had been stifled, the last wisps of smoke drifting off into the smog. She immediately scooted away to escape them, but they did not react to her backpedaling. She stared in confusion. They had been so adamant on taking her and torturing her. Why did they simply... stop? It was as though she was invisible, like they did not see her.

She crawled forward.

The first thing that struck her were how tense the soldiers were. Whereas before they had simply been strong, now... it was as though they were attempting to lift their own mighty ships by hand. Even the armor they wore failed to contain their bulging muscles as they appeared to escape something Katara could not see.

The next thing that struck her were the eyes. Wide. Tracing her. She walked ever so slowly, unsettled by the gazing. She felt cold, too cold. She might as well have been encased in ice. But something greater than temperature was beckoning her. As though she did something wrong.

She tripped, falling into the snow. For the briefest moment, she saw the figures move, but they immediately froze again when she recovered. Standing up, she could see that the firebender had begun turning around, to run back to the ships. The other reached out for her, an expression of fear anger carved into his face.

Her eyes widened. She looked at her hands. Then back at the soldiers again. They had begun trembling. One of them fell over, the helmet falling, bouncing, rolling away, settling in the snow. The face was blue, bluer than clear sky. The lips trembled, fully sealed. The nostrils were flared. But the chest did not rise. Neither chests rose, even as the soldiers began shaking in earnest.

The soldiers weren't breathing.

Her heart quickened. Spots appeared in her eyes. There was no way. She couldn't have - it wasn't possible. The soldier's eyes rolled upwards, only the whites showing. The scream finally burst out, as Katara desperately tried to undo whatever she had done to these soldiers. She could not even waterbend. But these soldiers...

But the movements intensified, then recessed, even as she screamed and cried and tried to stop herself or save them. She waved her hands, took her channeling postures, tried to see if her healing could work -

The moment the bloodbending ended, the soldiers crumpled completely. Unmoving.


Katara shot up, an excruciating pounding in her head. Her chest heaved violently, and she felt like she was going to pass out again.

I... I didn't do that. Yue, please!-

But she saw the ice. Saw the snow, and its pristine whiteness. There was no black, no grey, no soot to behold.

Then she remembered. The last time the Fire Nation visited was when they retrieved the Avatar. And then before that, there was only the raid that killed her mother.

Terrible things had happened. But they were gone, they were over. They were relics of the past. Things were better now - there was no Mom, but there was Dad. And Sokka. And... Aang, strangely the most of them all...

She took a shaky breath. She had bloodbent in that nightmare - the only thing to call it. She had promised herself to never bloodbend. Did dreams count?

But it was a strange dream. And in fact, it could not have been her. She could not have bloodbent, when in fact she could not waterbend. It simply made no sense.

Experimentally, she reached out and breathed a sigh when she extracted a trickle of water from the floor. That was okay. It was real life. But she would not be able to in her dream. She wasn't even sure if it was her. She made no motions, and she wasn't even sure she was the one in control in her dream.

No. It had to be something else. Maybe it was the suits. Maybe...

It was no matter. It was a dream - not an ordinary one by any means, but it was a dream. She would survive. And she would never bloodbend.

Once she had assured herself that it was only a terrible nightmare, and that she would never bloodbend, ever, she finally took a moment to take in her surroundings.

She was... home?

But it wasn't home - not quite. There was no flaps to the tent; no pointed roof; not even the furskins that lined the floor. It was all ice - ice and snow, pure white and blue that almost dazzled her with the sun's reflection on them.

But everything else - she recognized her dad's club. The raiment she had been embroidering for the summer. A little project she had tried to make for the more temperate parts of the world - suns on the edges, shortened sleeves, all sorts of neglected projects from her last visit. She also saw Sokka's own projects - an unfinished balloon, a strange project he had termed an 'aeroplane': "A glider but with propulsion without need for airbending!" Sokka had proclaimed quite proudly just before it took a nosedive onto his own crotch - and also a gift or two from the Mechanist. Prototypes of weapons - some more successful than others - lay across from Katara's own items.

She grinned weakly. At least Dad knows to keep our things as far apart from each other as possible.

Her head throbbed. It was not terrible - not like the last time she had been awake. She knew, as soon as whatever had came over her, that something bad was affecting her, and that she would likely not wake for a while. She, however, did not think they would have reached the South Pole before she awoke, let alone have her situated for a good time now.

Someone stepped into the room. Once Katara's vision cleared enough to see, she wished she didn't see who it was.

"Hey."

"Aang." No greeting. She debated on it, but she was far too tired to.

The Avatar was morose. Dark circles underlined his droopy eyes. His shoulders sagged. A slight stubble had begun growing under his chin, even if the top of his head was still meticulously shaved. He almost leaned on his gliderstaff for support, his back halfway between barely straight and barely bent. Even though he fidgeted, Katara knew instinctually that it was a fidget of intense fatigue, not of enthusiasm, something that made her somehow feel worse. "So..." he began, his tiredness stressed in every possible sound of the word.

"I have a bit of a headache, but I'm fine." Aang was taken aback by her response, but he quickly nodded in appreciation. Katara nervously bit her lip. "Aang..."

"What?"

Katara mustered all of her strength. "What... happened?"

Aang hesitated. "Well, we're at the South Pole."

Katara couldn't help laughing a little. "Thank you very much, Captain Obvious."

Aang smiled quickly, suddenly Katara's heart skipped. "I thought that was Sokka's title."

"Well, it's been transferred to you. Unless you prefer First Mate Obvious?"

"Mmm, not the same ring. I was thinking more Admiral Obvious."

"Avatar Obvious."

"Obviously the Avatar."

"Okay, no, but seriously," Katara lightly reprimanded. Some diversion was good, but times like these... were not times to humor humor. "What happened with me?"

Aang became serious again, and somehow looked even straighter, yet more anxious. "You just... passed out. After... Ty Lee..."

Katara winced. "Don't remind me. I don't even want to think about it -"

Aang shook his head. "It's okay. We've all forgiven you - even Sokka, although to be honest he's not the person who needs the apology. Um, so you took your hand back, and you looked confused, and then -"

"Then?"

"Hey, if you keep interrupting me, you're not gonna get what you want."

"But you're here." She couldn't help smirking as his face cherried. It was good to be able to do that to him, a thought that gave Katara such a strange but happy leap.

"As I... erm." Aang cleared his throat when he realized Katara was still smirking. "As I was saying, you had a fever, and passed out. A good while too. About as long as you'd expect."

Katara had stopped smirking. It was a monumental effort to even be looking. She closed her eyes. "The fever's gone, that much I can say for certain. But -"

"You still need rest. Yes. Sorry for bothering you -"

"Don't be. I appreciate it. But I'm actually a bit curious why it's you and not my Dad in here... " She cracked an eyelid open. Aang would not meet her gaze. "How many?"

"Not many - there was apparently a little thing today about how the South keeps complaining about the goodwill of the North so the guards had to be there to keep the peace instead of watching over you, but... I mean. Avatar things. Helps that I'm faster than the guards - and also that I already took a complete tour of the place from above and below. You know, you'd think they'd patch that opening up in the ceiling so no one could drop in and ambush... Although I did fix it myself, so you don't need to scold me for exploiting it."

Katara couldn't help from smiling. "You, cheeky little airbender you."

"I mean, when there's a game to play, and the prize is you..."

Katara's smile should not have grown bigger. "Oh, will you quit it? But also, you look like you need rest. Seriously. Even more than I do."

Aang nodded. He yawned. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps," Katara mocked, her stupid smile somehow still plastered to her silly face. "Shoo."

Smirking tiredly, Aang bowed to her. "As you wish, Princess."

"I am not a Princess," Katara said loudly. Aang, on his way out the door, paused to turn and face her. He winked. It suddenly struck her that through all the stress and fatigue, Aang's eyes were always the same calm grey.

"You might as well be one to me."

And with that, she was alone again. She sighed, the echoes whispering to her. The nightmare, so vivid in her mind, had ceased to plague her, now a bygone memory. She wondered what it was, but she couldn't seem to conjure it. All that remained was the grey of Aang's eyes and the unjustifiable silliness of his smile.

"Thank you for seeing me," she whispered, even though she knew he wouldn't hear it.

She put a hand to her forehead, winced, and everything went dark again.

I really do like the new plot - I just wish my writing could handle it