"I believe in angels,

Something good in everything I see.

I believe in angels,

When I know the time is right for me,

I'll cross the stream.

I have a dream."

("I Have a Dream," Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again)

Katara first saw the old royal summer home during her and Zuko's honeymoon on Ember Island. It had been neglected for over a decade and allowed to fall into a dreadful state, so Katara and Zuko stayed at the island's Grand Hotel instead. She was curious about the house where her new husband had spent the few happy summers of his childhood, and Zuko, who could deny his bride nothing, agreed to show it to her.

With its graceful pagoda roofs and wrap-around veranda, the royal summer house sat atop a hill overlooking the harbor. Voluminous skirts billowing behind her, Katara ran up the driveway to survey what improvements would have to be done.

The roof needed to be patched up and retiled in several places, parts of the veranda would have to be rebuilt entirely, and a decade's worth of dust and debris had to be cleaned out, but the place had potential. Upon entering the front hall, Katara closed her parasol and pulled out a small notebook and pencil.

Patch roof and rebuild veranda, she scribbled down.

The hem of Katara's white summer dress dragged in a thick carpet of dust, mold, and mildew. Great cobwebs attested that the place was probably a city of spiders. The front hall needed to be thoroughly swept, dusted, and scrubbed.

Katara quickly jotted down in her notebook, sweep, dust, scrub.

Most of the first floor was cluttered with junk: rotting wooden and paper screens, moth-eaten tapestries, stained and moldy zabuton cushions. Katara shook her head and declared it all beyond repair or reuse.

Toss out junk.

The painted murals on the walls and ceilings were in good condition. They would only need to be touched up in places. But the tatami mats and the paper in the shoji screens would have to be replaced entirely.

Touch up murals. Replace screens and mats.

On the second floor were the sleeping quarters. Several futons were piled on the floor in one of the guest rooms. They were dirty and torn in places, but washed and patched up, they would be good as new.

Wash and mend futons.

The boards and beams of the stairs creaked and cracked when Katara and Zuko walked on them. Katara leaned too hard on the banister, and it crumbled to pieces. She shrieked, and Zuko swept in to catch her before she fell.

Fix stairs.

Katara walked back down the driveway with a head full of plans and dreams. She was as anxious to finish the summer house as she was to meet the unborn child she then carried. She, Zuko, and the baby would spend many happy summers together on Ember Island.

"She had a marvelous time, ruining everything."

("The Last Great American Dynasty," Taylor Swift)

The nobles who summered on Ember Island turned up their noses at what Fire Lady Katara got up to in that summer house of hers. She romped on the beach with her children and took moonlit walks with her husband (they even held hands and kissed) as if she were an ordinary wife and mother. This behavior was vulgar enough, but the parties she threw were positively scandalous. The parties were loud and unruly, the most disreputable people always managed to show up, and every single noble would sell their soul for an invitation.

And what Lady Katara wore to these debauched gatherings was perhaps the worst of all. Each of her ball gowns had shorter sleeves, a lower neckline, and a larger bustle than the next. The ladies tutted behind their fans but ordered similar dresses from their seamstresses the following day.

Katara couldn't help but smile whenever the stuffy matrons of Ember Island, the same ones who called her ill-bred and shameless, copied what she wore or dropped hints about wanting to be invited to her parties. Love or hate her, they needed her favor to secure lucrative posts for their husbands and advantageous marriages for their children. She was the Fire Lady, whether they liked it or not.

The best part of every day on Ember Island was after the children went to bed, and she and Zuko took moonlit walks on the beach. Katara would turn around and look at the summer house she'd helped to rise like a phoenix from the ashes. She'd lean against Zuko's shoulder and say, "This is our true home."