the teachings of master dawa

As they climb aboard Appa to leave Omashu's bustling market, a messenger calls out to Aang, panting frantically. "We've been looking for you for days," he says between breaths. "Your presence is requested in the Northern Water Tribe, your Holiness. They cordially invite you to the wedding of Princess Yue and her suitor, Captain Hahn. The bi-annual Tribal meeting is to follow shortly after."

Aang thanks him with a smile, but Katara can see the slightest flicker in his eyes, blanching at the thought of playing Avatar once more.

The messenger stares him down a moment longer, and Aang sighs. "Can you pay him?" he mutters guiltily to Katara.

"You think I have money? I spent about all I had on that dress."

"You have more than me-"

"Sokka," she says impatiently. "You pay him."

Sokka shakes his head. "We're all on the same bison."

"Oh, for Spirits' sake," Toph bursts out. She digs around in her coin purse, hands the messenger a smattering of gold coins. "Here you go."

The amount of money the Earthbender casually hands over sends both men into a state of apoplexy, and it is the talk of the flight back to camp.

"That was six gold pieces, Toph," Aang says. "That's more than my monthly stipend. By a lot."

Sokka hums in surprise. "You get paid that poorly?"

"Do you have any idea the kind of fast talking it took Gyatso to convince the Elders to pay me at all?"

Katara doesn't participate in the conversation. Her realization in the marketplace plunges her into silence, her knees against her chest while that quiet voice in her mind- the one asking if it's really so impossible that she could love him- blocks out every other thought.

She's never been in love. She's had a few brushes with it prior to departing for the North Pole- a passing fancy here and there, kisses and fumbling hands and awkward glances. Every so often, she'd wonder idly if she was meant for love at all, or if the Spirits had determined she should skip it altogether. With so many other things to occupy her, it was never a concern- certainly not for the past couple years.

So, how could she know what love feels like? All the storybooks she'd ever read - the poetry and epic fantasies and the romance novel she once stole from Aunt Asuna to see what all the fuss was about- implied that love was obvious, that one just knows. Katara's convinced she doesn't know anything. If anyone had asked her six months ago if loving Aang was even a possibility, she'd have laughed outright.

Obviously, they've come a long way since then. Where once she could hardly stand the sight of him, now she can hardly stand to be away from him- but that isn't a confession of love. Isn't a confession of anything. Lovers write poems. Lovers make calf-eyes at one another at inappropriate times. Lovers make promises to stay, to never drift apart, to never leave.

Katara hasn't made any promises to Aang, either- in fact, her time with him has an end date; the completion of his Waterbending training. She's made no changes to her plans, so surely that means it can't be love. A lover would stay, a lover would drop their own responsibilities to tend to him, and while she may not be in a rush to return to the South Pole, she won't follow Aang around from nation to nation, a pathetic hanger-on he can't get rid of. And so what if the thought of leaving him tears at her, causes her to press her hand into her heart to ease the pain? She was sad to leave Yue, too- and Sokka, Bato, her father.

Not like this, that small voice whispers.

"Shush, you," Katara snaps aloud.

It's a three week journey of hard flying to the North Pole from Omashu, and Katara spends all three weeks dreading the end of it.

Pakku will no doubt evaluate Aang's progress upon their arrival, and Aang will exceed the old master's lofty expectations. She's proud of him- and proud of herself, too- but underneath it all is a confused skein of emotions that she doesn't know how to unravel. She doesn't want to leave, but her time with Aang is coming to its natural conclusion.

Sokka notes the same thing one night as they're camping outside Gaipan village. "Maybe you and I should go home, after this," he muses, tossing a pinch of salt into their cook pot. "Dad will be happy to see you, and you could do a lot of good there."

It's true, she could. Set up clinics, tend to the sick and wounded. Assist her father in his councils- in the background, of course- perhaps teach Waterbending to the very few Southern benders.

Every last one of those options feels like a yoke around her neck, chaining her home. It makes her hands sweat, makes her lip curl in disgust- horrified at the thought of making Yue's old prediction reality.

"I don't think so," she says. "Not yet, anyway."

"You could at least visit."

"If I go home, they'll find a way to keep me there."

"Would that be so bad?"

It would, and she lets him know with a deprecating look.

His eyes are pointedly locked on the ground when he says, "Is it him?"

Warning bells go off in her mind at his insinuation. Or his intuition, that small voice supplies dryly. "Who says it is?"

"I do."

"It isn't," she insists. "It's me. Before I ever met Aang, I didn't want to spend my life in Dad's shadow... or yours."

He bobs his head, and gives her hand a squeeze. "I understand. But, even so... he's not going to need a Waterbending Master for much longer. What will you do then?"

Katara doesn't know- doesn't have an answer. She wanders away in silence, and that silence persists for the rest of the journey. Sparring, flying, cooking, she's withdrawn, answering in one or two word sentences or diffident shrugs of the shoulder. The others do their best to engage her, but with the changes looming on the horizon, she has a hard time focusing on anything else.

The day before they arrive in the North Pole, Aang approaches her as she's clearing away a square for her tent foundation.

"Do you want to spar?" he asks, hopeful.

She sees it for what it is, and she knows she should say yes. That would be the mature, responsible thing to do.

He has an evaluation coming up, after all, she thinks bitterly.

"No," she mutters. "Not today."

"Tell me what's wrong, Katara. Please."

While she's trying to think of how to explain it- while she's deciding if she even wants to explain it- he nervously supplies an explanation of his own.

"Are you upset about being here? Seeing all these people again? And... me?"

She frowns. She hadn't even thought of that- a sure sign that she must be going crazy. The Northerners tormented her for two years, and now, upon her impending return, she's scarcely given them a second thought.

He takes that as tacit agreement, and rubs his hands together nervously. "What can I do, Katara? I wish we could go back-"

She stops his train of thought with a shake of her head. "It's not that. I told you I forgave you a long time ago. I meant it."

An exhale of relief. "Then... what is it?"

"It's sort of complicated," she hedges. It isn't at all- but how do you explain to someone that the thought of leaving them breaks your heart? And how, that small voice asks dryly, can that not be considered love? She tosses that thought away forcefully. "It's... you've progressed in Waterbending so much."

He blinks in confusion, clearly expecting a different answer.

"Pakku will want to evaluate you."

"I figured." He shrugs. "I'm not worried about it."

"You'll do well," she agrees glumly. "That's the problem."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I'm here to teach you Waterbending, Aang." Her words come out in a rush. "After this, you won't need me anymore. It'll be time for me to do... something else. To leave."

There's a panicked flash in his eyes. "Well- I've got a lot of gaps in my defenses, and my Barracuda Position is still weak-"

"You dropped Toph the other night with enough water to fill a tea cup," she counters dully. "You'll be a Master before we leave the North."

He doesn't respond. Her stomach flips uncomfortably.

"And that's the whole point, right? It isn't supposed to last forever," she babbles, her hands twist in the fur-lined hem of her parka. "I'm just glad... I'm just glad we were able to become..."

Become what? she wonders. Friends? In all her years, she's never known someone like him. He can determine her mood by how forcefully she brushes her hair or pick an idea from her brain as if she'd said it aloud. 'Friends' doesn't feel right. Doesn't seem like enough.

He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it, lips pressed together in a thin line.

It makes her stomach twist harder. "I'm going to bed- long day tomorrow, you know? You should sleep, too. Goodnight, Aang."

She abandons the canvas of her tent and freezes a quick shelter in place, a little igloo of snow, and squeezes inside. There she sits, her knees against her chest and one fist pressed against her forehead as if she could knock the idiocy out herself, if she were capable.

She isn't. So she waits, instead, listens for Aang's dejected footsteps crunching on the ice as he finally shuffles away.

A congregation gathers to meet them as Appa lands heavily in the Northern Palace's courtyard. Chief Arnook and Master Pakku bow to Aang, and spare a polite greeting to Katara, Sokka, and Toph.

"Welcome back to the North Pole," Arnook rumbles. "With your arrival, the celebrations can commence."

After the niceties are observed, Katara darts to Yue, allows her Northern counterpart to squeeze her in a tight hug. As soon as they let go, though, Yue swats her sharply on the arm. "You've barely answered any of my letters," the Northern Princess carps angrily. "And I bought you enough stationary to write once a week for a year."

"I lost it- there was a brush-fire," Katara explains.

"I didn't realize the North Pole was the only place that sells paper and envelopes," Yue drawls, but the scolding is cut short by Aang's arrival. She bows gracefully to him. "Good to see you, your Holiness. I was just telling Katara how unbearably rude she's been, ignoring my letters-"

"There was a fire," he defends instantly.

Yue's eyes twinkle. "So I hear."

The moment is so strange- so at odds with the last time she saw Yue- that Katara has to laugh. It's infectious, and all three of them are still chuckling when Pakku materializes like a specter at Aang's elbow.

The Airbender jumps in surprise, but if Pakku notices, he graciously elects not to comment. "I expect to see you in my practice yard for a full report of your progress, first thing tomorrow morning," the old man announces without preamble. "Katara, too. We will determine the date of your Master's evaluation then." Without another word, he marches away.

"Spirits," Aang mutters. "I didn't even hear him approach. How does he walk so quietly?"

"Some people think he uses his bending to stop the noise," Yue says conspiratorially, "but I think-"

"He puts a sound-dampening liner on the soles of his shoes," Katara finishes for her.

Aang's eyes light with instant curiosity. "Does he, really?" he muses almost wickedly.

Katara recognizes the look- the one that precedes trouble, sends shopkeepers or statue guards chasing after them. But, before she can say anything, Chief Arnook calls Aang and Sokka to a meeting, an order phrased as a request, to discuss a trade agreement between the North Pole and the Northern Air Temple.

"Take tea with me," Yue insists when she and Katara the last two in the courtyard. "It's been ages."

They make for her apartments, cups of jasmine tea warming their hands in no time. "So," Yue begins innocently, "I see the relationship between you and the Avatar has improved."

There's no point denying it. "It took some time- and some stupid fights- but eventually, I realized we weren't as different as I thought we were."

"And how's his training coming along? Will Pakku be pleased?"

"He's a natural," Katara says. It's difficult to keep despair from her voice, but she manages, somehow.

"That's good news," Yue replies. "You can finally go home."

Katara sets her mug down, frowning.

"You don't want to?"

"I don't know," Katara admits. "I've been... things are different, now. I don't know if I can go back to the life I had before."

Yue eyes her like she has a thousand words at the tip of her tongue- 'I told you so' first among them, no doubt. "Changed you that much?" the princess asks mildly, instead.

It's a vague question- asked innocently enough that she could mean anything. But it doesn't take a mastermind to know what- or rather, who- Yue is speaking of.

Has Aang changed her? She doesn't know if it was him, or if it was really her all along, finally set free from the future she thought was unavoidable. One thing she does know is that it probably wouldn't have happened without him- and the thought of leaving him to go back to that fate sets her heart thrumming in panic.

At any rate, putting it into words seems frighteningly complicated, so she shrugs, and changes the subject. "So... Hahn, really?"

Yue wrinkles her nose. "Yes, he's not ideal, is he? But we have an agreement. I've explained that I'm not interested in sitting in the background of his burgeoning political career." An unladylike eye roll.

"I'm surprised to hear your father accept Hahn's proposal at all," Katara notes. "Last I recall, he wasn't the most impressive of your suitors."

"That's the point." The princess smiles triumphantly. "After your success, it became impossible for my father to deny that I'm far better equipped for Tribal leadership than many of my suitors. Hahn comes from a middle-class military family- grateful to be considered at all, and far more accepting of change in exchange for power. We'll rule jointly when my father is ready to pass the mantle. It's even a clause in our marriage contract."

"That's incredible, Yue."

Yue grins. "Isn't it, though? Look at us... look at how far we've come in just a couple years."

They spend the rest of the afternoon reminiscing over just that, and Katara finds a few hours of peace within her return to the North Pole.

Katara and Aang trudge into the training yard as the cool of pre-dawn still lingers in the air. Pakku glares as they pass under the arched entrace, like they're a pair of novices once more.

"Now, then," the old man grunts. "Let's see your progress."

Hours later, that lighthearted feeling Katara has carried since tea with Yue is sitting in a shredded pile in the yard behind her.

Two days. That's all she has. Two days until Aang's evaluation.

Two days until her presence is pointless.

Sensing the shift in her mood, Aang nudges her with his elbow as they make their way back to his room at the Palace. "Did you notice how silently he walks around?" he asks. "Maybe he really does wear some kind of liner."

It's an obvious attempt to cheer her up, and she gives him a half-hearted smile. "It's just a rumor, Aang. I overheard some of the other students talking about it when I was in training. I'm surprised you never heard it."

He frowns at the mention of their old classmates. "Well, I was distracted."

"Hmm."

At this point, even Aang seems to admit defeat, and eventually- after minutes of growing discomfort- he turns the conversation to the elephant in the room. "You wouldn't have to go."

He's facing it head-on, and although the idea makes her want to sprint away and hide in some secluded corner, she doesn't disrespect him by being obtuse. "You don't need me anymore- and I'm sure my father has his own plans for me."

A heavy silence, nothing but their footsteps crunching on frozen dew drops as they reach his room. He leans against the door, and she feels pinned there, too, unable to stay but unwilling to leave. Hoping he'd beg, and dreading that he actually would.

"I won't need you for training, maybe," he says. "Is that the only reason you're here?"

There's an unspoken admission, a silent understanding. He says 'here', but he means 'with me'. They both know it, and that cold barrier of logic that's protected her for weeks melts away like copper in a crucible.

She loves him. She's in love with him.

The realization is an arrow to the heart, a plunge into icy water, and suddenly, she's gasping for air.

She mumbles something- "I have tea with Yue" (not true)- and then she races away, down the halls of the Palace. Her excuse was made-up, but she finds herself sprinting for the Northern Princess anyway.

When she reaches the princess's apartments, she slams the door open; rude, but Yue is well aware of her shortcomings, anyway. There's a gasp of surprise from the bedroom, a hasty shuffling sound, and Sokka goes careening into the tearoom, his ponytail undone and his expression panicked.

Katara glares at him as he edges past her, toward the open door. "Your shirt is on backwards," she hisses.

The back of his neck is bright red, and he all but sprints down the hallway.

When she turns back around, Yue is smiling primly, not a hair out of place. "This is an unexpected pleasure."

"That wasn't my brother I just saw, was it?"

"Of course."

A heavy pause while Katara figures out how to bring up Suki- or if it's her place to bring her up at all.

Yue snorts wryly. "Come now, Katara. You didn't think I was going to pledge my undying loyalty to Hahn, did you? The half-wit already has a string of mistresses. I don't feel guilty."

"Maybe you don't, but-"

"I don't want to hear about Sokka's lovers or promises. They're his to keep- and he didn't mention them to me, anyway." The princess lifts one imperious brow. "Besides, I don't think you're in a position to judge me for finding peace in the arms of someone that actually cares about me."

Katara falters. "What do you mean?"

"Please, don't play dumb with me, Katara," Yue sighs, perching gracefully on the arm of a nearby chair. "I humored you yesterday, but since we're casting accusations, I might as well have my turn." She gives her a hard look. "So, go ahead. Try to deny it."

Katara bristles. Her temper flares, her fists clench, chest blows up like a bubble, and then deflates in an instant. She drops into the closest empty chair, one hand covering her face. What's the point in pretending? She'd come here to tell Yue that very thing. "I can't," she mutters, despairing. Her eyes begin to burn and blur, and to her horror, a tear drops down one cheek. "You don't have to tell me its stupid. I already know."

She doesn't. She glides over to her instead, and wraps her arms around her. Katara's head comes to rest on Yue's chest, and the tears pour faster, because she knows it's the only comfort she'll receive.

The morning of the evaluation comes, and Katara gathers on the raised dais with the other evaluating Masters. Aang waits for Master Pakku's arrival in the nearby changing room- he wasn't allowed to wait with Katara, but she suggested he use the time to meditate on the desired outcome, anyway.

The sun rises higher in the sky as the group begins to tap feet and shift impatiently in chairs, and a messenger arrives an hour later. "Master Pakku is indisposed. An urgent, erm, issue arose. You are to return here at noon."

Katara goes to the changing room to give Aang the news. As she pushes open the door, she finds the young Avatar surrounded by boots and slippers. He holds a pair up to the light, scrutinizing the soles, and a realization strikes her like lightning.

"Are those Master Pakku's shoes?!"

He drops them in surprise, leaping to her and covering her mouth with both hands. "Keep your voice down," he shushes. "I was just curious. By the way, he really does put a liner in them-"

"But-" she splutters as he pulls his hands away. "How did you get them?"

"His wine cellar has a flap for temperature control. They left it open last night."

"Casually mentioning breaking and entering to me-"

He winks at her.

"You're supposed to be preparing for your evaluation," she snaps.

"What do you need?" he asks, ignoring her outrage entirely in a blatant attempt to change the subject.

She scowls at him. "Your evaluation has been rescheduled for noon. Master Pakku is indisposed, apparently." A glance to the footwear littering the ground. "Though, if I had to guess, I'd say it's probably because he doesn't have any shoes. How are you going to bring these back?"

"Who says I am?"

"When he finds out what you did-"

"He'll what?" Aang asks derisively. "Stop me from mastering Waterbending?"

The subtext is as obvious as if he'd spoken it aloud. 'Go ahead. I wish he would.'

"Come on, you idiot," she mutters on a sigh. "Let's figure out a way to get these back."

In the end, he passes his evaluation with blazing colors. Bows are made, hands are shaken. Katara's praises as a trainer are sung- by Master Pakku himself, no less- and a week later, the whole tribe gathers under the moonlight for the ceremony. Katara is permitted to stand on the dais beside Master Pakku. She holds the bowl of black paint as the old man draws a series of symbols on Aang's face. There's a sharp pang under her ribs when Aang stands and faces the crowd- smiling that Avatar smile, balanced and calm, and nothing like the Aang she knows. It's the wrong smile, but it feels appropriate- this ceremony is nothing like them. Just another show for another crowd. When the ceremony finishes, she claps politely and avoids Aang's eyes. Wishes she were anywhere else.

She spends the rest of the visit- Yue's wedding, the Tribal meeting- in a state of near-despair. Yue worries- it's obvious in every knowing look, every gentle graze of the hand, and when it's finally time to leave (headed for the Southern Air Temple, so that Aang can personally inform the Elders of his progress), the Northern Princess cups Katara's face in her hands affectionately. They don't say anything- there's nothing that could be said anyway. Katara squeezes her hand one final time, unsure of when she'll see her Northern counterpart again.

"Write, this time," Yue murmurs.

With one last squeeze, Katara settles into Appa's saddle as he leaps into the air, and draws her knees to her chest, only lifting one corner of her lips in a half-hearted smile when Toph sighs with relief, "Finally, we're going to a place with rocks again."

The month it takes them to get to the Southern Air Temple passes in a blur, and once again, Katara finds herself avoiding Aang. But, this time, it's for an altogether different reason.

She doesn't know what to do with it, this feeling settled inside her chest. Tell him the truth? That she loves him, and that she doesn't know how to leave him- even though she has to?

And even if she didn't, what then? The Avatar, and his Waterbending Master? The sort of thing that happens in those novels of Asuna's? She berates herself. Those novels aren't real. The things that happen in them are fiction, and this is real life. This is reality, and reality has never been so kind.

Once again, Aang is swept into the Elder's confidences the moment they arrive at the Southern Air Temple. Katara, Sokka and Toph stand listlessly in the empty courtyard as they wait for the escorts Tashi promised would be with them momentarily.

"Well, what now?" Sokka asks, scratching Appa under his massive chin.

Katara shrugs. "Whatever you want. Last time I was here, I barely saw any of Aang." She glances meaningfully at Toph. "Be careful where you bend, here. A lot of these places are sacred. I'd ask before you start chucking rocks around."

Toph grumbles, arms crossing. "What was the point of getting an Earthbending Master if we only ever stay in places where we can't bend?"

"It'll probably get better once Katara leaves," Sokka notes, oblivious to the murderous glare his sister fixes him. "When it's just you and Aang, you'll probably get more say in where you stop. Maybe we could go to Kyoshi Island after this. Lots of rocks to chuck around there, and I'd like to see Suki again before Katara and I head back south."

"Maybe you could tell her about your reunion with Yue," Katara snaps pointedly.

"Once again, Katara, this was Suki's idea." He shakes his head. "You think someone like her is going to twiddle her thumbs at home while I'm away? Please."

Toph, disinterested in the fiftieth iteration of this conversation, whips her head in the direction of a pair of footsteps. Two Airbenders glide through the arched entrance of the courtyard. With a smile and laugh, Katara waves to Sangye and Kunchen- Aang's old friends, and her guides for her last visit. Sangye swings her around in a bear-hug, and Kunchen greets her with a shy smile and his typical blush.

"Introduce us to your friends, Katara," Sangye says as he sets her back onto the smooth flagstones.

"My brother, Sokka," she introduces, grasping him by the shoulder (possibly with a little more force than necessary). "And Toph Bei Fong, Aang's new Earthbending Master."

"Pleasure to meet you both." He bows.

"I hope you'll join us for dinner," Kunchen murmurs in his gentle voice.

Toph grins. "Thought you'd never ask. Maybe after, you can show what rocks I'm allowed to touch."

The dinner passes in easy companionship. Sangye and Kunchen are as engaging as the first time she met them, and they make space for Sokka and Toph like old friends. They make plans for the duration of their stay- hikes, secret spots and places to picnic- and afterward, Sangye brings Toph and Sokka to their rooms, and Kunchen guides Katara back to hers. He's sweet- stammering shyly as he wishes her goodnight, and with a pang, she remembers his feelings for her. The crush he harbors- and how different things might be if she could give him what he wants. If there were space in her own heart for anyone else.

Too late, she realizes that she's still standing outside her door- staring at him thoughtfully, and he's staring back- and before she can say anything (like a gentle, but firm, "Goodnight, Kunchen,") he leans forward, one hand reaching for her jaw, like he's going to kiss her.

She pulls back sharply. "Kunchen, I-"

He pales. Gasps. "Spirits, Katara- I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I saw you standing there- I saw you looking at me and I thought... I don't know what I thought."

If it were possible to shrivel up and die on the spot, Katara is convinced she'd take the opportunity. The last thing she ever wanted was to hurt him.

"I'm sorry," she says gently. "It's just- this isn't possible. I can't be this for you."

He nods. "I understand."

"I don't want this to ruin anything," she murmurs hopefully. "You're my friend."

A smile- half-hearted, but she can see in his eyes that he means it. "Of course it won't."

She gives him a gentle, comforting squeeze on his shoulder, and makes her way into the room. Before she can shut her door, Kunchen blurts one last question. "Is it Aang?"

There's no anger there, no ill-will that she can detect, just a sort of defeat. It breaks her heart. "It's me," she says. "That's all that matters."

She closes the door gently behind her and flops dejectedly onto her narrow mattress. Spends the rest of the night wondering how different things might be if there were space for anyone but Aang.

Katara finds herself surprisingly grateful that Toph and Sokka there, if for no other reason than to break up the tension between her and Kunchen. Things are awkward for a few days- so much so that even Toph notices, and makes a comment that sends Kunchen's cheeks flaming every time he sees the Earthbender for days after- but eventually, even that returns to a semblance of normalcy.

They explore high peaks and low valleys, swim in frigid pools that set their teeth chattering, and after a while, she's able to relax. Even delight in sharing the little slice of Air Nation culture with her brother and Toph- the pranks and quiet camaraderie, the meals all shared together and wild beauty of the Southern Air Temple.

Aang is still seen only scarcely, spotted occasionally at meals and in between meetings, or in guided meditation with Pasang or Gyatso- sometimes even Tashi. The part of her that misses him is rivaled only by her relief to have space to breath.

Her companions keep her busy during the day, but at night, in the quiet of her room, it feels as though she's drowning. The time away from Aang- away from the silver of his eyes, the way he grabs her hand when he wants her attention, or steals her lychee nuts when he thinks she isn't looking- gives her time to force perspective. Force understanding.

She is equally split, a perfect tear down the middle. On the one side, there is the feeling, emotion, plain and simple. She's in love with him, and it's only growing with time. And she could follow him around for the rest of her life, find excuses to stay with him until she's withered and gray. That kind of life seems so far out of reach, so impossible, but her heart pulls her toward it like a magnet.

On the other side, there is understanding. That the easiest option- the best and most sensible one- is to let him go. To let her time with him fade to a memory, and make her life the best that she can. He's the Avatar, and she has responsibilities of her own. Sokka's plan to go to Kyoshi Island and allow Aang and Toph to depart- for good- is the one that makes the most sense. Even if it hurts. Even if the thought feels like a jagged cut in her mind.

She sneaks away early one morning. The thought of pretending like her nights are restful and her mind is at ease is too daunting, so she goes in search of peace. As the sun rises, she finds herself in a secluded little temple, studying designs in the stone, the faded paint. When she turns around, Gyatso is there, gazing at her thoughtfully.

"Oh, Master Gyatso," she greets. "I didn't hear you approach." With a start, she remembers her manners, and offers a deep bow.

His hands are gentle when they lift her back to standing. He smiles, looks around warmly. "This is a secret little spot of mine- like your spot under the wisteria vines."

"The flowers are gone, now," she laments.

"They'll be back. It's the way of things."

She nods. "I suppose that's true. But, it just... seemed like some of the magic was taken with them."

"Have you ever studied the teachings of Master Dawa? He was an Air Nation philosopher, perhaps- oh, a thousand years ago?" Gyatso asks politely. When she shakes her head, he smiles. "It's rather long-winded- the elderly tend to be that way, even a millenia ago- but it can be summarized in a rather simple turn of phrase still used to this day: to everything, there is a season. Flowers, weather, even people."

She doesn't have an answer to that. It seems she never has an answer to his cryptic messages, but she finds comfort in the cadence of his voice, anyway. It's little wonder that Aang adores the old man so much.

"I understand that Aang has officially mastered Waterbending," Gyatso says, changing the subject. "According to him, we have you to thank for it."

Katara acknowledges the praise with a smile. More of a grimace, really, since it's related to the very topic she came to this secluded temple to escape. "He did all the work. I just... guided him."

"Don't sell yourself short, Katara," Gyatso chides gently. "Aang is willful, and it takes a special kind of patience to convince him to cooperate. It's driven Pasang and Tashi to distraction, but I've always found it to be one of his most endearing qualities." A wry chuckle. "He was that way even from infancy. Stealing toys, toddling off to get himself into Spirits-know-what. He has a curious mind. I saw a lot of myself in him. Before he was ever the Avatar, Aang was special to me." His gray eyes turn to her, pierce her. "Now, I can see he's special to you, too."

There's no point denying it. "Yes," she murmurs.

"But, to everything, there is a season," he says again. "And Aang tells me that your season is ending. That you intend to leave him, on Kyoshi Island."

A pained sound escapes her. Involuntary. "It makes the most sense, Master Gyatso. He doesn't need me anymore. He has Toph, and I have..." She struggles to supply the words. "I will have duties and responsibilities of my own."

"Do you remember what I told you under the vines, Katara? He will always need you. And you will always need him. Your bond is sacred."

"I can't transcend time," Katara bursts out. "I can't even decide what to do in the next month's time. I won't follow him around like some lost little girl, waiting in the background to be needed again-"

"Your reasons sound like the words of somebody who wants the answers to come easily," Gyatso interrupts. It's sharp, sharper than she's ever heard the man speak, and she is reminded that he was an Airbending Master and a leader of a great nation before he was ever anything as gentle as Aang's father-figure. "Nothing worth cultivating ever comes easily. Not flowers, not people, and when things seem like they're at their worst, I pray that you remember; to everything, there is a season. Spring will come again, but first, you have to make it through the winter."

He departs from her with a low bow, and leaves her standing under beams of sunlight.