Day 1: Culture Sharing

Summary: KW 2024 Day 1: Culture Sharing. "They say the lights hold visions, memories, that if you look closely enough, you'll see your loved ones dancing in the next life." Or, the one where Katara and Aang go to see the aurora australis.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Welcome to Kataang Week 2024!

Aang jerked awake, startled by the sudden creak of a rusting door hinge. His hand darted to the cool stone wall behind him to feel who it was, sighing in relief when he realized.

"Scared me there for a second, sweetie."

He rubbed his eyes, still groggy with sleep, and squinted to get a better look at the dark figure in the doorway of their room.

Katara winced, her hand still resting on the doorknob. "Sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to wake you." She paused as Aang sat up in bed. The moonlight streaming through the window highlighted the sharp lines of his torso, the curves of his tattoos. His arrows were illuminated like glowing ribbons of sky.

The airbender smirked at her, his eyes now fully alert as he followed her gaze. "It's impolite to stare, you know." He gave her a knowing glance as a dark magenta blossomed on her cheeks.

Katara shook her head and chuckled. "Given the time it took you to notice, I think it's safe to say you were doing the same."

Aang gasped, mock-affronted. "Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe-" He stood abruptly, slowly stepping towards the waterbender. "You cannot possibly be insinuating that a man of my status, that a noble and ancient spirit such as myself, would commit such a heinous act of disrespect towards an honorable woman like yourself."

He stood in front of her fully, hand on his chest, eyes alit with passion as Katara struggled to hold in her laughter. "How could I even think of noticing the way your hair rests like a waterfall on your shoulders, the way your eyes shine in the light, the way you-"

The waterbender pulled him into a kiss, effectively interrupting his gallant ramblings. Katara giggled when she saw the goofy grin on Aang's face when they broke apart, his cheeks visibly pink even obscured by the shadows of the room.

"How very forward of you, Master Katara."

"My sincerest apologies, noble Avatar," she whispered, her eyebrows playfully furrowed. Katara shook her head in mock disappointment. "What in La's name am I going to do with you?"

Aang shrugged. "Have a baby with me?" A softer smile crept onto his face. His hand moved to grasp that of hers between them, her palms already resting on her swollen stomach. "Though I suppose you can't exactly change your mind about that now."

Katara laughed quietly. A distant look entered her eyes as her fingers squeezed his.

The airbender quirked an eyebrow at her, noticing the way her breaths seemed to slow, almost like sighs, and the way her gaze focused on their bedroom window.

"Why are you up so late, anyways?" he asked. "Couldn't sleep? It's not a full moon, is it?" He turned his head to check the window, frowning when all he saw were stars.

"No, it's-" Katara faltered. She tilted her head to the side, gaze still focused on the darkness outside their room. "It's hard to explain." She paused. The waterbender looked back up at her husband, shivers running down her spine at the way his gaze seemed to pierce hers.

"I could show you?" she whispered. She knew his answer before the words left her mouth.

The airbender reached for the doorknob, wincing as the hinge creaked loudly once more. Katara grasped his hand and pulled him silently through the hall of their house. She moved swiftly and carefully, stepping intentionally on the floorboards she knew didn't squeak, as if she had done this dozens of times before. Katara gave them both a minute to don their parkas as they reached the main entrance before leading them outside into the night.

The waterbender frowned as the street torches burned bright around them, their glow reflecting off the ice path below and flooding the city with light. A protective measure, her father had said, to keep the Southern Water Tribe's new tourists safe from coyotes and wolves.

Aang shivered as the cold wind hit his face. Rebuilding efforts after the war had gotten him far too accustomed to warm Fire Nation temperatures. Nighttime during the South Pole's winter was a harsh readjustment. "Where are we going, sweetie?"

Katara jerked her head to the side, gesturing to the plains that led away from the main city towards the mountains. Aang noticed her eyes transfixed on the dark sky beyond the glittering expanse, as if looking for something.

With a flick of her wrist, the snow beneath them morphed into a raised platform, ice encasing their feet for stability. Katara turned to the airbender and gave him a grin. "Hold on."

"Yes, ma'am, sweetie, ma'am."

He gave her a mini-salute before wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her bump gently but firmly. With a sweeping motion of her arms, Katara raised the platform higher and propelled them forwards, the torchlights of the city dimming as the darkness of the South Pole's wilderness overtook them.

Their path cut through the fresh snow of the plains like a blade- sharp, straight, and intentional. They left a trail of flurries in their wake, the disturbed snowflakes swirling in the frigid breeze, untameable. Aang hummed curiously as the waterbender began accelerating towards a tall hill, the glint in her eyes showing no intentions of stopping.

Aang nuzzled the side of her head, sighing softly at the determination in her countenance. There was a passion there, a certain fire that he hadn't seen in her in far too long.

"What in the world are you up to, my love?" he whispered into her ear.

She shot him a quick grin as the icy peak drew rapidly closer in Aang's peripheral vision. "You'll see."

The waterbender turned back towards the obstacle facing them and breathed deeply. With large up-and-down motions of her arms, Katara brought their platform higher and higher, the block of ice accelerating upwards directly parallel to the face of the mountain.

Aang inhaled sharply as the wind brought by the speed of their motions forced the hoods of their parkas down, exposing their ears and necks to the cold. The sight of everything around them- the distant lights of Wolf Cove like the smallest candle flame surrounded by the tundra, the shadows of the mountains against the horizon, their trail through the snow growing impossibly small with their ascent to the peak- left the airbender speechless.

The platform slowed as they approached the top, its ice melting away as the two set foot on the mountain, snow crunching beneath their boots.

"It's beautiful, sweetie," Aang whispered, gaze transfixed on the glow of the city below as Katara moved away from the cliff edge. "Just beautiful."

The waterbender snorted and shook her head. Aang turned towards her, tilting his head in confusion, when she grabbed his hand and brought him closer to the center of the flattened mountaintop. She sat down and motioned for him to do the same, before resting her head on the fluffy white snow beneath them, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her true motivations came into view. The airbender frowned but nevertheless imitated her actions, inhaling sharply when he looked up.

Above them were what could only be described as ribbons of light, streaking across the sky in shades of blue, pink, and green that Aang didn't even realize were possible. Jets of luster escaped upwards from the concentrated bands, which wove around the stars as if the night sky itself were a tapestry. The hues seemed to dance among their reflections from the snow and ice of the tundra, encasing the night in an otherworldly glow.

Aang swallowed. He had caught glimpses of the Southern Lights as a child at the Southern Air Temple- little emerald or ruby threads teasing the horizon from time to time in the winters, but it was nothing compared to this.

He turned his head towards the waterbender in awe, who was already looking at him with an amused glint in her eyes. An uncontrollable smile had flooded her face, and Aang couldn't help the beat his heart skipped at the beauty of the reflection of the lights in her eyes.

Katara's breath hitched as his gaze met hers, the pink band above them highlighting the rosy tint in his cheeks from the cold and the chiseled line of his jaw. "Do you like it?" she whispered shyly, her heart pounding at the mere thought of a negative answer.

The airbender gave her a cheesy grin. "Well, it's not as beautiful as you, but it'll do." They both giggled as Aang's hand reached for Katara's and he gave her fingers a short squeeze.

"In all seriousness, sweetie, it's just-" he shook his head before rotating his torso to look up at the sky. "I have no words. It's ethereal. Like a blessing from the spirits themselves." Katara chuckled at the last phrase.

Aang quirked an eyebrow up at her. "What did I say?"

"No, it's just that," Katara began with a laugh, "the Northerners say the lights are evil, the mark of a curse from the spirits."

The waterbender paused, smiling to herself- a distant, nostalgic sort of smile. "Gran Gran would tell Sokka and me as kids that even looking at the lights too long could make the spirits come down and curse us. Every time we saw them from the opening of our igloo, she forbade us to go outside."

"Something tells me you didn't exactly listen."

Katara giggled, shaking her head as the memories of her childhood came flooding back to her. "No, I did not."

She squirmed in the snow, shifting her body closer to Aang's. The airbender outstretched his arm so that she could lay nestled against him, her hand resting on his chest, as they both continued to watch the sky.

"Sokka never really cared that much," she murmured. "He thought they were cool but it was easy for him to avoid the lights with the threat of Gran Gran's wrath over him. Six-year-old me, however?" Katara hissed sharply. "She was not so easily convinced."

Aang laughed. "Your Gran Gran should've known better than to challenge the most stubborn waterbender in the world."

Katara pouted. "Not in the world."

The airbender gave her a look.

"Okay, maybe," she smiled sheepishly. Aang chuckled and pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand, fingers interlacing with hers on his chest.

"So you snuck out?"

"Not quite," Katara sighed. She closed her eyes as her mind was transported to another world, a different time. "The first thing I remember was praying to the spirits one night after Gran Gran had already gone to bed, asking them to pretty please not hurt me because I just really, really, really wanted to see the pretty lights."

Aang snorted at the image of a tiny Katara trying to quietly negotiate with the spirits with her grandmother asleep a mere few feet away, the waterbender's baby-faced features sporting the iconic Katara determination and fire.

"I was just about to leave the igloo when Mom caught me, all bundled up in a parka and my boots and gloves, and asked what I was doing. I told her the truth." Katara shrugged. "That I wanted to see the lights and that I had asked the spirits to be nice ahead of time so everything would be okay. She told me to give her a minute to put on her parka and that we would go see them together."

Realization dawned on Aang. He gave her a sympathetic look, squeezing her fingers gently.

"She brought you here."

Katara nodded. "Not all the way up this mountain to the top, of course, but high enough to see the glow of the lights across the plains."

"We came here just about every other night after that, if the lights were visible. She'd tell me that-" Katara's eyes glistened with moisture, each of her breaths shaky and unsure. "She'd tell me that one day, when I was older and had the stamina, we'd see them from here, from the very top. That it was something her mom had done with her and something that her Gran Gran had done with her mom- a tradition of sorts. But we-" she faltered.

"But you never got the chance," Aang finished quietly. "Oh, sweetie."

The airbender wordlessly turned his chest to envelop Katara in an embrace, hands rubbing soothing circles on her back as she clutched him for dear life. Her swollen belly pressed firmly against his stomach as he held her in his arms, waiting for the rise and fall of her chest to steady.

"She'd tell me about our stories, our culture," Katara whispered. Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his parka, arms still tightly wrapped around him. "The Southern myths and constellations."

The waterbender pulled away slightly, enough to crane her neck upwards to gaze at the criss-crossing rays above them while still pressed flush against Aang's body.

"The lights aren't evil in the Southern myth, you know?" she murmured, eyes transfixed on the sky. "In the South, they say the lights hold visions, memories, that if you look closely enough, you'll see your loved ones dancing in the next life."

The two lay in silence for a few moments. Then,

"Tell me more."

Katara looked at the airbender curiously, wondering where the sudden request had come from.

"Tell me about the constellations and your mom and the lights and the stars and the myths and everything in between." He held her hands in his, squeezing gently. "I want to know all of it. All of your heritage, all of your culture. All of you."

The waterbender's gaze softened, feeling her heart melt at his words. She cupped the side of his face gently and pressed a kiss to his cheek before nestling herself into the crook of his neck.

"She loved dancing, my mom. She was horrible at it but my dad would humor her anyways, twirling her around in the snow while Sokka and I played outside." A corner of her mouth upticked at the memory.

Katara's eyes darted around the sky for a moment, searching for something. She pointed to two white specks beneath a bright pink line of the aurora. "Those were her favorite stars. Sivulliik. They signal the beginning of winter, when the lights can be seen best."

"And over there," her arm moved towards a star behind a brighter line of three. "Kingulliq."

The airbender furrowed his eyebrows, trying to call upon his limited native Southern vocabulary. "The one behind?"

"Exactly!" Katara grinned proudly. "Do you want to hear the story?"

Aang nodded, shifting his weight in the snow to get more comfortable as the waterbender began her tale.

"There was once a boy, an orphan, who lived with his grandmother. He would visit this old man in their village who would taunt him about it, telling him to eat the meat from his mother's tailbone, things like that."

"But," Katara continued, "What the boy didn't know was that the old man had killed his own brother-in-law years prior. When the boy told his grandmother about the taunting, she told him to reply that he knew about the old man's crimes, and that if anything went wrong, she would save him."

"The next time the old man taunted him, the boy told him exactly that, so the old man started chasing him with a knife. The grandma came as she promised to save him, but she didn't immediately realize what was happening, so they were in front of her by a margin."

"The one behind," Aang murmured.

"When she joined the chase, all three got turned into stars. The boy and the man became Sivulliik, the first ones, and she became Kingulliq."

Katara turned her head to look at Aang, who was already staring at her like she was the moon itself.

"I love listening to you," the airbender whispered, a dark pink rising to Katara's cheeks in response. "Tell me another."

She gave him a soft smile. "Point to a star and I will."

Aang turned back to the sky and searched for a moment before jerking his head to the left, in the direction of a faint band of stars that stretched from behind the mountains to the sea's horizon line. "Those?"

"Aviguti, the great divider of the sky."

"How did he divide the sky?"

The waterbender chuckled. "Not a 'who,' but a 'what.' There's a belief that there was a great raven eagle who created the first people by walking across the sky. Aviguti is meant to be the trail left by his snowshoes."

Katara smiled, reminded of a new memory. "I remember asking my mom why a raven eagle would wear snowshoes when she told me that one. We must've spent hours debating whether proper boots would be too bulky for their talons."

The airbender scoffed, a playful glint in his eyes. "Obviously not. It's a great raven eagle! He can handle some boots."

"Are you kidding me?" Katara gasped overdramatically, bringing her hand to her chest with an audible thump while struggling to stifle a grin. "If he's such a great raven eagle then he shouldn't need boots in the first place!"

"Hey, just because he's great doesn't mean his feet can't get cold. I mean, look at me! I'm the great bridge between humans and spirits and I still wear a parka. In fact, you get mad at me when I don't wear a parka in the winter."

"That's different! You're a human- humans wear parkas. Raven eagles don't wear shoes!"

"How do you know? Maybe they've always wanted to but they're afraid of being judged, and now you're here contributing to the stigma against it!"

"Aang."

"Katara."

The two gave each other a serious look for a moment before simultaneously bursting into laughter, cackling until their ribs ached.

"Spirits, I haven't laughed that hard in ages," Katara managed to get out between giggles.

"Tell me about it." Aang wiped a tear from his eye, an uncontrollable grin on his face. "Can I hear more stories?"

The waterbender looked at him incredulously. "You're not tired of them yet?"

Aang shook his head and shrugged. "I'll listen to your stories for as long as you're willing to share them with me."

Katara's breath hitched at the honesty in his words, the unconditional willingness to listen to her reminiscing ramblings.

"Okay," she smiled. "Now you get to hear the story of the other Kingulliq."

"There's another?"

And thus the two lay on that mountaintop, sharing stories and myths, memories and dreams. It was only when their cheeks were permanently flushed red and their toes frozen that they began heading back to their house, the aurora's bright hues fading as the city lights came into view.

"Sweetie?" Katara would go on to say as they laid back down on their bed.

"Yes, Katara?"

She glanced down at her swollen belly. "Will you come with me if I take our baby up there? In a few years, of course, when they're old enough."

Aang smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Of course, sweetie. I'd be honored."

"Thank you," she whispered as she felt his arms wrap around her sides to cradle her bump. "Not just for tonight, but for everything."

She didn't need to elaborate on "everything." There was an understanding between the two, a shared grief for their cultures and loved ones, a shared loneliness of being the last.

"You would've done the same for me," he whispered into her hair. "You have done the same for me, many and many a time. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie. Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams."

And just before Katara closed her eyes, she could've sworn she saw the lights through their bedroom window for the shortest instant, flashing with the image of a smiling woman dancing in the snow.