How could she not know?
How long had they been plotting this?
How could she be so stupid? so desperate?
Katara felt Hei-Won's blood coursing through her lithe body, she had kept a tight focus on the woman's heart, ensuring it remained strong but steady. Maybe that's why she missed it? The beating hearts of the others. Their fluttering pulses descended on her all at once, and by the time realization had begun to sink in, it had been too late, she was caught in their snare. As if on cue, the looks of curiosity and wonder Hei-Won had worn for her fractured into fear and agony. A bloodcurdling scream tore from her throat, shattering her focus. Katara's hold broke, and fear and confusion washed over her when Hei-Won collapsed onto the grass. Had she done something wrong? No, they had barely started.
When shouts erupted behind her and women clad in orange and yellow elbowed roughly past her to scoop up their fallen sister Katara had just begun to grasp the situation but her time quickly ran out. At her back, the roar of whipping wind filled her ears, dying out as quickly as it came. There was no need to turn around, Katara knew he'd be there. Wherever they went, he was always close by. She kept her back to him, her muscles winding tight, bracing for the coming fight, not one of bending and combat. Those were easy. It was the ones of sharp words and broken emotions that wore her down.
"Anya!" his voice had deepened since he was a boy, not the decadent baritone of Sokka or Zuko but a lighter, rich tenor that could still cut a command through the night.
Hei-Won's closest friend snapped obediently to attention, "Yes, Avatar Aang."
"You and the other acolytes go back to the temple, get Hei-Won settled in her chambers, and have Sete take a look at her," he ordered.
Katara listened, but still refused to face him, preferring to watch the show in front of her. The gaggle of women made a grand spectacle of lifting the limp Hei-Won from the ground, with tears, whimpers, and fearful glances tossed her way. The healer in her knew an unconscious person when she saw one, and Hei-Won's acting was terrible. The other woman's eyelashes fluttered rapidly as she tried to catch a glimpse of her handiwork.
The sham performance and the slight pull at Hei Won's mouth should have thrown Katara into a fury, but there was nothing left to fuel that flame. Instead, she let her eyes silently follow the procession of women as they carried their fellow acolyte back to the stone structure she still struggled to call home.
Aang turned to her, the stern but solemn expression looked so strange on his boyish face, "Katara, tell me you weren't bloodbending."
He thought he had done her a kindness, waiting until the acolytes were out of earshot. She wanted to blame it on the naivety that had, on more than one occasion, cost him dearly but this was willful ignorance on his part. She didn't need to feel the rushing of blood to know that more than a couple had stayed, hidden away to eavesdrop. She could tell him but after being dismissing her a hundred times, what was the point? He would just assure yet again, that his acolytes would never stoop so low. Even when they questioned details neither had divulged, or commented on conversations no one else had heard. When the snide remarks on their declining intimacy began, he explained it away with their spiritual perceptiveness allowing them to know when something was amiss. The constant invalidation became so painful, simply not bothering to bring it up was more bearable. Choosing to forever be at a disadvantage, to have her words twisted and turned on her by these women hurt less than facing her love's inability to believe her.
"Well?"
Her silence had stretched too long.
Katara's jaw clenched, she straightened her spine and squared out her shoulders, the familiar stance lent her mettle for the war of words that awaited her.
"Would you prefer I lie to you then?" she posed the question to the night more than him.
"We talked about this, it's not right. You yourself had said it was wrong." he chastised.
Katara spun to face him, "I was a scared child back then, but just like you feared the destruction of firebending, I feared the power of bloodbending, its ability to rob someone of their free will." Katara countered, "But I was wrong, bloodbending isn't inherently wrong."
"They're not the same, what you just did was wrong!"
"She asked me to show her Aang!"
Incredulity washed over Aang's face, "Hei-Won would never, she's terrified of bloodbending, she told me herself."
"Then why did she tell me that she thought it could help people, that it could have saved her sister."
"Hei-Won doesn't have a sister, she never did!"
"She told me this just this afternoon in the inf-"
"LIES!" he shouted, eyes squeezed shut and his fists balled at his sides.
Katara jerked, taking a step back, her eyes frantically watching for that telltale flash in his irises or the glow along his skin.
Aang held a silent moment, taking a long breath and putting measure to his words.
"I know you don't get along with my acolytes, Vayu, you don't even like them, but bringing one of them out here to bloodbend them and then lying about it." Aang's anger melted into anguish, "Katara it's like I don't know who you are anymore."
"I am not lying," Katara growled through gritted teeth.
"You are, Anya told me everything. How you lured Hei-Won out here after she confronted you about bloodbending in Gaoling."
"I saved that woman's life! Or would you have preferred that her husband grieved for his wife too?"
"But we can fix this," he said softly, sidestepping the question.
"How Aang, tell me how? Please." Katara wanted nothing more than to fix this, to go back to being in love with the boy she had taught waterbending and helped to save the world.
"You just need to commit to being an acolyte." Aang said closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his, "I mean really learn and participate in our ways and traditions, instead of just watching from the sidelines. You'd earn your tattoos by this time next year, and- " Aang swallowed hard, "And promise me you'll never bloodbend again."
Katara wore a blank look at his requests as each word pieced itself into the idea Aang pushed on her, more thorns wound their way into her heart.
"Come with me to the Winter Solstice," she said quietly.
Aang turned his head off to the side, unable to look at her, "I- I can't."
"Then I can't" She wrenched her hands from his and turned toward the temple.
Katara had only made it a few steps before a breeze tangled in her hair and a hand on her forearm stopped her, holding her in place.
Aang looked at her his face a mix of regret, sadness, and fear, "Katara please."
It was the same expression from when they were kids, when he thought she and Sokka were going to abandon him for their father. But they hadn't, instead, they gave up their only chance of finding Hakoda and continued traveling with Aang despite his betrayal. She had been making sacrifices for him since they were children and now he was asking for her to give up even more. Once upon a time, that look would make her heart ache, make her want to run and comfort him, wipe away his sadness, and console him in his loneliness. But Aang was no longer alone, and tonight that pathetic look only served to make her angry.
Katara pulled roughly from his grip, the fire she thought extinguished years ago re-ignited in her chest and burst from behind her teeth in a roar "For years you couldn't find the time to celebrate the solstice with me and now you have the nerve to ask me to renounce my culture, my tribe, my family? To become one of your acolytes? And then you ask me to give up part of my bending on top of it, to prove to you, what? That you can trust me? That I am worthy of being your wife?"
"You are more than worthy of being my wife" Aang argued, "but after tonight, after what my acolytes have been telling me-"
Katara raised a hand cutting him off, "Aang, if the errant whispers of a few rumormongers holds more weight than my word then there's nothing left to discuss. Nothing I say will change anything, will it?"
Aang stood quietly, he had no words to give her, but the silence was an answer, wasn't it? Katara reached up and tugged at the yellow velvet collar around her neck until the silver clasp gave a stinging crack against her skin.
Aang's eyes went wide, "What are you doing?"
Katara held it out to him, the heavy orange stone glittering coldly in the moonlight.
"Katara no," Aang said softly
She grabbed his tattooed hand and dropped the ruined necklace into his hand closing his fingers around it, pressing the shards of a broken promise into his palm.
"My father once told me that the right kind of love, the kind that's real. That kind of love doesn't blind you, it actually helps you see." her voice cracked as she spoke, unshed sobs clawing at her throat, "I've been blind a long time Aang, I've sacrificed so much that I don't think there's anything left of me to give. You've taken it all."
Katara silently begged La for the strength and composure to hold her tears, she refused to let the hidden acolytes see her cry, they had taken so much already, and she refused to let them have her dignity.
Taking a step back, she gave herself some much-needed space between them before continuing, "I'll sleep in the infirmary tonight and pack my things during tomorrow's meditation so I don't disturb you and your acolytes. I'll send Hawky to South Harbor City tonight so my family can prepare for my arrival. If you'll allow it, I would like Appa to take me to the port. If that's not an option, it might take a few days, but I can arrange for an ostrich-horse. Give me your decision in the morning."
"Will you come back?" the question came not from the Avatar, leader of the new Air Nation, but from the twelve-year-old boy, she found eight years ago.
She held her resolve against the painful cracks forming in her heart, she wanted nothing more than to fling her arms around him and chase the hurt from his face but if there was one thing she needed to do for herself, this was it.
"No Aang," she said softly, shaking her head, "I don't think there's anything left for me to come back to."
She left Aang standing under the moonlight and headed toward the temple. The full moon promised a night of restlessness, if sleep wouldn't come, she might as well prepare the infirmary for her absence. It would keep her busy and keep her mind off the growing hole in her chest.
In her walk along the path, soft whispers and girlish giggles pulled Katara from her clouded mind and anger quickly bloomed in the abyss of her heart. It felt like a balm in all the places pain he had fractured her. Without thought, her bending unfurled revealing to her the sweet pulsing of three hearts. Katara reached out her arms, palms spread wide, and she drew life from plants beneath her feet. When the gentle pulsing turned to fearful racing, she smiled, and once again screams erupted into the night.
Aang had come running the wind at his back pushing him faster than anyone could move on their own. When he rounded the neatly cultivated bushes he nearly stumbled over in his shock. Horror crystalized like knives in his chest, he had been wrong, so very, very wrong. Laid out on the ground before him were Anya and two more acolytes, the three struggled against shackles of ice. Beside them stood Katara, bathed in cold moonlight and surrounded by the death of withered grass.
"Maybe now you'll believe me." Katara hissed before walking away.
What had he done?
…
By the time she made it to the infirmary the hot flash of anger had cooled leaving only a sharp, grating pain. She allowed the tears to fall for a while, letting herself hurt as her heart broke for what was and what could have been. And when she had none left, she wrapped the all pieces of herself in her grandmother's shawl and picked up a brush to write home.
Less than two weeks later Katara found herself leaning on the railing of a ship with sea mist in her hair, her body exhausted and aching from the last forty-eight hours, and in her red, paint-smeared fingertips was her mother's necklace.
As the Fire Nation disappeared into the horizon she began to recognize how much of herself she had lost and how much she missed those parts of her. How much of her she had allowed to be erased for the sake of Aang, for the sake of being the Avatar's betrothed, and for the first time in days, she let herself start to believe that, just maybe, she had made the right choice.
That day at the shop, Ty Lee had been right, Katara always did seem happy, because it was her job. The Avatar was a beacon of hope for the world, and as his betrothed, it was her responsibility to reflect that light, even if it did nothing to illuminate her. So she did just that, no matter what, even when her own light had begun to dim, even when it had almost gone out.
It took time but over the weeks and months, the pain of that night faded, it went from something sharp and deep to the occasional ache of an old wound. Gran had told her that the pain of lost loves fade but they never truly disappear, instead they leave tattooed marks on the heart. Each a lesson, some a warning, and others a fond memory, but the deepest marks were those of survival.
Her grandmother's sentiment had helped but strangely - or not so strangely - it was her father's words that gave her the courage to move forward. Just before she boarded the ship meant to take her back to the Fire Nation, Hakoda wrapped her up in one of those warm elk-bear hugs that made her feel like she was seven again. He murmured one last thing that made her eyes water, before kissing her on the cheek and wishing her a final goodbye. Katara managed to hold her tears until the small city had disappeared even as the words resounded over and over in her head.
A scarred heart still beats and a beating heart still loves.
"Master Katara." Mai's sharp tone forced her to resurface and catch a glimpse of the noblewoman before she melted into the crowd. Katara trailed close behind her, through the throngs of dignitaries draped in the finest jewels, and, fabrics their nations had to offer. The whispers had quieted but still followed them like the buzz of errant horseshoe flies but the oppressive wall of murmurs was quickly interrupted by a familiar shade of blue that filled her vision.
Sturdy, tanned arms wrapped her up into a crushing hug, lifting her off the floor and twirling her around, much like Aang had spun Hei-Won.
"Katara! I'm so happy to see you, you made it!"
"Sokka!" Katara yelped, she gave her older brother a soft pinch to let her down, "You just saw me a few hours ago!" he set her down so she could look up at him, "At lunch, remember?"
Sokka's bright eyes looked back at her with pink-tinged cheeks, a sign that he had already 'quality checked' the ice wine their father had sent. Unlike her, Sokka wore a 'summer' version of their tribe's traditional furs and skins. With more and more time spent in warmer climates, the ancestral clothing of the Southern Water Tribe had gone through some revisions that allowed them to suit the Fire Nation's balmy weather.
"Am I not allowed to miss my own sister?" Sokka grinned, a short step back let him get a look at good look at her and that's when his jovial expression quickly soured, "Does Dad know you're wearing that?"
"Dad isn't here Katara huffed, even if he was, I'm a grown-" Katara didn't get to finish, Sokka suddenly doubled over with a muffled 'oof', at the elbow that had made a home in his ribs.
"Move it Snoozles!"
Toph's deceivingly petite frame replaced her brother's presence, the self-proclaimed metal-bending master and reluctant socialite wore an unconventional two-piece outfit. The fern green dress Toph's mother sent a few weeks earlier had been heavily modified. Stripped of its frilly embellishments the long-sleeved bodice had a line of well-placed crystal buttons to close up the deep neckline and its seams were then outlined by sleek, chartreuse satin piping. The skirt excised from many yards of tulle had its front sliced open, giving the 'not-gown' a medium gold-trimmed train and walkthrough front that contrasted beautifully with chocolate tailored trousers, tucked into knee-high, russet, sole-less boots
"Hi sweetness, how ya been?"
Katara took a glance around the room, "I've been better." she answered honestly.
"Don't worry Sugar Queen," Toph grinned punching a very unladylike fist into her open palm, "I've got your back."
Toph may not have been able to see the smirk Katara grew to match her own but the genuine relief that spread through her frame was palpable. When that air-headed avatar stopped running from her she'd finally give him a piece of her mind.
"Mai-Mai!" The affection pet name was all the warning the noblewoman got before a force of pink satin and cream tulle attempted to crash into her but Mai reached out and caught her girlfriend with practiced ease. Apparently, the loving assault was a regular occurrence. Mai's matte black gown contrasted sharply with Ty Lee, who stood draped in various shades of soft pink. From a jeweled, blush bodice that hugged her slender curves, decadent skirts bloomed like a fresh peony. Mai's hands around Ty's waist, brought them face to face, her crimson lips pressing a soft kiss to Ty's pink-tinted ones.
It had been years, but Katara was still amazed at the effect Ty Lee had on Mai. Every time, Mai's stoic expression would soften, her cheeks taking on a delicate pink color and her lips pulling into the slightest smile that translated her features into a different kind of fleeting beauty. Katara would be lying if she said she wasn't the tiniest bit jealous of the pair.
Ty Lee, smoothing down the numerous layers of her flounced skirt, turned to Katara, and her grey eyes lit up, "Oh my spirits! It looks even better than when you tried it on in the shop!"
Ty grabbed Katara's hand twirling her around to get a good look before pulling her in for a hug and whispering, "You'll gonna do much more than knock his socks off, those royal robes don't stand a chance."
Katara's mouth fell slightly open at the suggestive comment, Ty Lee catching Katara's expression giggled and returned to the arms of her girlfriend.
"My turn." the words made Katara tear her eyes from the couple. Suki had appeared beside Sokka in a sateen cotton gown of gleaming emerald with a matching overskirt. Her hidden fans made the slightest interruption in the lines of her dress, without knowing what to look for, no one would know she was armed. No detail of Suki's dress was wasted, the cotton fabric was breathable and moved with her without clinging, the flowing overskirt concealed her weapons and could be discarded at a moment's notice giving her mobility while her dainty slippers had studded leather soles for traction on vertical surfaces. The taisho of the Kyoshi warriors was, as always, elegantly battle-ready.
Katara smiled and hugged her soon-to-be sister-in-law, "I see you and Mai have been talking to the same seamstress."
Suki winked, "Maybe."
This prompted Sokka to turn his attention to the noblewoman and ask, half in curiosity, half in trepidation, "Mai, exactly how many knives do you have hidden in that dress?"
"Why, did you need one?" Mai asked, a wicked gleam in her eye.
Toph tapped the polished marble floor with a calloused sole, what she found made her smirk, "Twenty-seven, impressive Ms. No Face."
"I know right?!" Ty Lee gushed, beside her, "Mai-Mai is full of surprises."
"If by surprises you mean twenty-seven ways to turn a man into a shish kabob, you would be right," Sokka replied hoarsely.
Mai rolled her eyes despite the pink that rose in her cheeks, "You're getting a little too proficient at counting them Toph."
The metal bender grinned and nudged Mai with her shoulder, "When they come flying at your head once a week, you get good at keeping track."
"Excuse me, what?!" Sokka's sputters brought him back into the conversation.
"Didn't you know?" Ty Lee inquired innocently, "Mai-Mai and Toph train together. Babe tries to get her knives past Toph and Toph tries to catch them with her metal bending."
Sokka cocked an eyebrow his bewilderment giving way to curiosity, "Who's winning?"
Mai glanced at Toph, "It's been about even."
Toph crossed her arms and shrugged, "If Ms. No Face wants to be modest I'm not going to stop her."
"How's training with Zuzu." Ty Lee asked Sokka.
Rubbing the back of his head, Sokka deflated, giving a sheepish look, "Uh, it's … going."
"He's still getting his butt kicked." Katara supplied.
Sokka scowled while the rest of the group snickered, "I got him that one time."
"You mean in the Western Air Temple when we were kids? You cheated and hit him in the head with your boomerang." Katara laughed.
"It still counts." Sokka scowled.
"Don't feel bad Sokka, Zuzu has been training for as long as I can remember, he had Master Piando as a personal tutor for years." Mai reminded him.
"Speaking of Masters, how is Azula doing?" Ty Lee asked the siblings, the sound of hope held in that one question sat heavily on their shoulders.
Sokka shifted his weight from one foot to another and gave a small smirk, "She's doing alright. Never stops bitching about the cold but she's ok."
"Training with Master Pakku has been helping," Katara explained.
"Well training with you worked for Sparky, it makes sense it would work for her." Toph agreed.
Katara nodded, "Uncle seems to have been right, training in her opposing element is helping her find balance and Pakku even thinks she should be ok to visit for the mid-Autumn festival."
"That's good to hear." the relief in Ty Lee's voice was apparent, she missed her friend.
Suki looking for a lighter note changed the subject, "Speaking of our esteemed Fire Lord, I've heard your sparing sessions with Zuko have been pretty intense." she stated leaning on the last word.
Katara could feel heat begin to pool in her cheeks, across from her, Mai and Suki exchanged mischievous looks, and she nervously tucked a nonexistent lock of hair behind her ear, "Uh yeah, we've been testing each other's limits a lot lately."
"All that screaming and groaning first thing in the morning, I can only imagine how you've been pushing each other's physically." Mai's bored tone took on a slight lilt, "But that's to be expected, Zuzu was always an early riser ."
It was true, with a soft knock, he'd be the one to wake her for those pre-dawn sparing matches. They quickly became intense, often ending with both of them stripped down, slick with sweat, and gasping for breath by the time sun rose. But that's all it had been, sparring.
"I haven't heard anything," Sokka interjected, the implications of his friends' insinuations lost on him.
Toph bit the inside of her cheek attempting to stifle a laugh, not setting off Sokka's big brother's senses tonight was probably for the best. She clapped him hard on the shoulder, "Probably because you sleep till noon Snoozles. What? Is Honey keeping you up"
"Ow!" Sokka blushing, rubbed his bruised shoulder, and hid behind Iroh's words "A man needs his rest."
Suki shook her head and shot Katara a knowing look before turning to Sokka and planting a soft kiss on his tanned cheek, "Yes love, we know a warrior needs plenty of rest."
"But that means you need rest too my gorgeous warrior queen." Sokka countered nuzzling Suki's neck, "Maybe we should think about calling it an early night."
Suki snorted and looked up, she only had eyes for him, "You idiot." she murmured before kissing him.
Suki may have needed the patience of a sage to keep up with her brother's ego, but Sokka worshiped her like a goddess.
"Ugh, you guys are giving me the oogies." Toph made a face and grabbed Katara's hand dragging her toward the other side of the room, "Come on sweetness, I'm too sober for this. Let's see what crazy Uncle came up with this time, even his chewy tea would be better than this."
Katara let the metal bender lead her to something Uncle had called a bar. Instead of having numerous staff walk around with trays of glasses, Iroh proposed that only a few served drinks from two counters on opposite sides of the ballroom. She had a suspicion it was a way for the staff to mix Uncle's strange concoctions that he cheekily referred to as libations.
Toph abruptly dropped Katara's hand to turn around and wave, "Uncle!"
Speak of the spirits
Iroh was still a good twenty feet away, how Toph managed to discern his footsteps among the hundreds of other guests, Katara could only wonder.
"Oh my, I seemed to have found not one but two beautiful ladies."
Toph bowed respectfully to her mentor before sweeping him up into a back-cracking hug, "You're laying it on thick old man."
Iroh drew himself up to his full height, "I speak only the truth young lady and you look absolutely regal this evening."
Toph fought against the upturn of her lips resulting in a smirk that dusted her cheeks pink, "You didn't do so bad yourself."
"Why thank you, my dear. So tell me, have you tried the offerings?" Iroh nearly vibrated with excitement, he had spent many a late night perfecting each recipe so they would be ready to unveil tonight.
"We're getting our first round of many." Toph promised, "Got anything strong up there?"
Iroh took his chin between his thumb and forefinger, giving his recommendation deep thought when his eyes lit up, "Try the General Old Iron!"
"You named your concoctions after the spirit that tried to smush me and my students?!" incredulity seeped from Toph's accusation.
"General Old Iron was a formidable and strong opponent," Iroh's eyes twinkled, "much like the drink that takes his namesake."
Toph tilted her head with a thought before she rolled her eyes, "Fine, I'll try it."
"Master Katara you should try something I like to call The Mist, it starts with Fire Nation whiskey layered with Southern Water Tribe ice wine and sweet mangosteen lychee in between." Iroh's words held a hint of something she couldn't quite discern.
Katara nodded "It sounds … interesting."
"It is quite the intriguing mix, please, let me know what you think in the morning."
His request came with a wink but before Katara could comment the general gave a bow, "Now if you will both excuse me I have some duties to attend to before joining the festivities."
The general quickly disappeared into the crowd leaving Katara and Toph at the bar. Toph ordered first and was presented with a glass of spiced, murky brown liquid garnished with a long sliver of citron-lemon peel, Toph took a tentative sniff and dared a sip of the concoction.
"How is it?"
"Pretty good actually, try it." Toph handed her the glass.
Katara took a sip and the taste of rye-oat cut across her tongue first, the whiskey's sharpness was quickly tempered by sweet tamarind spiced with clove and balanced with citron-lemon.
"Wow."
"Right? Who knew Uncle had a way with spirits?"
Katara grimaced at the terrible pun and Toph plucked her drink from her hands, "Ok Sweetness, your turn"
She turned to the drink mixer, "The general told me to try the mist?"
The man behind the counter gave a nod and began to work on her libation. A bottle of pearlescent ice wine, the spiced amber of whiskey, a bowl of peeled mangosteen lychee, each item passed through his hands at a dizzying pace all for Katara to be presented with a small glass that held no more than an ounce, maybe two.
The confusion must have been apparent on her face because the man behind the bar, after a beat, explained, the contents of the small glass were to be taken all at once, no sipping.
"It's called a shot." Toph supplied.
"Why do you know that?" Katara asked suspiciously, her innate motherliness seeping into her voice.
"Because I do, now are you going to take it or not Sweetness?" she dared.
Not one to back down from a challenge, Katara, in one swift movement brought the petite glass to her painted lips and tilted her head back, after all, daring was the name of the game tonight, wasn't it? The cool liquid slipped past her lips burning a line down her throat, the whiskey's heat came first, pooling in her belly, flushing her cheeks, and warming her from the inside out. The ice wine's chill followed close behind setting goosebumps on her skin and sending a shiver up her spine. The lychee-mangosteen she first thought to be lost between the two fighting spirits, now lingered pleasantly sweet on her tongue.
When she lingered a few moments too long Toph spoke, "That was some shot huh?" she teased sipping from her glass.
The slight flush in Katara's cheeks turned into a full burn that made her swear they were glowing.
It gave Toph pause, "You're nervous." she stated a bit more seriously.
"I am." she reluctantly confessed.
Katara already knew what being dishonest would entail, an interrogation that would have her giving up more information than she ever wanted to. Over the years, she'd learned - the hard way, mind you - that it was easier to lean into whatever Toph picked up on rather than resist or worse, lie.
"Why?" the gentle curiosity in Toph's question caught her off guard.
Suki did tell her that growing up had smoothed some of Toph's edges, but this was the first time she had been on the receiving end of it. Her friend had given her, her first glimpse of that softness, the least she could do was respond with honesty.
"I'm kind of afraid. What if he doesn't feel the same?"
Toph grinned, "You have nothing to worry about there Sugar Queen."
"Of course I do." Katara looked around for stretched ears before ducking down and continuing in a rushed whisper,
"I'm going to confess to one of my best friends, it's one thing for him to not feel the same way, but what if he doesn't want to even be friends after?"
Toph set down her glass and gently took Katara's face in her hands, "Sweetness, relax. He feels the same way, he has for yea-" Toph paused tilting her head, "-well a while, and it's been killing him."
Katara peeled Toph's calloused hands from her face, "Why didn't he ever say anything?"
"You've been with Airhead since we were kids. The Fire Lord confessing his feelings to the Avatar's girl would have probably started another war."
Katara opened her mouth to retort, but the trumpeting horns interrupted her.
The Fire Lord had arrived.