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XxXxXxXxXxX
Appa's resounding roar of greeting echoed, followed by Samir's chirp: "Daddy! Mommy!"
Aang braced himself as Samir dashed forward, sprinting with impressive grace, and collided against him, beaming up at him. "I'm back," he confirmed as Momo flew over his head, excited, in dizzying circles before landing on his head. "We won—it's over."
While Azula remained next to him, waiting for her physical greeting from Samir, the scarce number of others began to filter past them, which, unfortunately, Samir noticed as she pulled back, confused; she blinked and looked around. "Where's everybody? Where's Sokka?"
He sighed, knowing what was imminent; he had been dreading it ever since they began the journey back to Chameleon Bay. Samir had latched onto Sokka with powerful affection, who had helped rescue her and Ursa from Ozai's kidnapping, and because of it, she had great trust and affection for Sokka, who Samir liked and loved most besides Aang himself, Azula, Ursa, Zuko, Toph, and Katara, was dead, never to be seen again. Azula had warned him it would be difficult explaining the truth to Samir, but he had not realized how difficult it would be upon seeing Samir's innocent, worried gray eyes peering up at him with trust, looking for answers. He was reminded, unfortunately, of his pervasive struggles in accepting his race's murder and how he rebelled against the truth staring him in the face for years.
"I'm sorry, Samir," he began, wishing suddenly for Gyatso's gentle guidance, but none of his memories of Gyatso prepared him for the bitter reality to share with Samir. "Sokka is gone."
"Gone where?" she asked, voice light with curiosity. "Is he getting food?"
Azula was quiet, clearly letting him handle the situation—for now. "No, he is gone, Samir," he repeated gently. "He died to see us win."
And so had Hakoda, Pakku, Batsu, Anju, and Haru. More people—more friends and family—who had died because of him.
Samir swallowed, finally grasping his meaning as her gray eyes began to water—and become alight with denial. "No."
"I wish it was different- "
"You're lying!" Samir accused, voice breaking; her heartbeat was of terrible speed as she looked at Azula, desperate. "Mommy, he's lying! Where's Sokka?" She swung her head to Ursa, desperate. "Grandma, where's Sokka?"
Azula's eyes closed briefly, looking much older than she was as she kneeled before Samir and pulled her into an embrace. "He died, Samir. I am so sorry."
Samir thrashed in Azula's grip, trying to push away, but she couldn't escape. "No! Sokka! Sokka! Where are you? Where is he, Mommy? Stop lying! This isn't fun!"
Aang crouched on Samir's other side and rubbed a hand over her trembling back, unsure what to do. His own experiences with death, more numerical and significant, wouldn't help Samir—because he knew no platitude helped, not during the moment. It took him nine years to accept what happened to Gyatso and his race. For all he knew, it could take Samir a long time, too. "I know," he soothed.
Samir sobbed herself to the point of exhaustion, looking like Aang felt when he first had problems with The Avatar State, like something inside her had been rocked out of its equilibrium, and she could not adjust to it, which made her falter and start to shut down. He took her from Azula's arms and said nothing; he carried Samir to Appa's tail, on which she had evidently been sleeping ever since they left to fight Ozai.
Appa licked his face, and he patted Appa's fur, resting on his giant arrowhead. "It's me," he confirmed. "It's good to see you, Appa. Were you good for Samir—or was Samir good for you?"
Appa huffed a puff of air but, knowing Samir rested on his tail, did nothing but lower his head back to the ground, which Aang knew meant a reward of a long flight later would be in demand.
There would be plenty of long flights for several months henceforth, so Appa would get his wish.
"I will stay with her," Ursa offered and crouched next to Samir, running a hand through her hair in compassion. "Death is never easy."
"No, it's not," he agreed softly.
He turned around and felt concern when he saw Azula marching directly at Jin, who had previously been speaking with Toph and Bor, who was experimenting with a peg leg, made of metal, and was getting more skilled at walking around with it; by the struck, dazed expression on Jin's face, she had learned about Haru's death, and she was not prepared for Azula's interrogation—possible assault based on Azula's murderous stare.
Aang caught up to Azula instantly but did not try to deter her—not yet, at least—and Azula did not even glance at him in response. Upon reaching her, Azula glared at Jin with the force of combustion-bending. "Were there any problems?"
Jin shook her head, barely meeting Azula's intimidating gaze. "No. She is a wonderful—most well-behaved. You should take pride in her."
"Are you suggesting I do not?" Azula hissed, golden eyes narrowing into slits.
Aang placed a hand on Azula's shoulder. "Peace," he soothed, knowing finally why Azula treated Jin with such suspicion, paranoia, and doubt. He was not exactly pleased that Jin had attempted to assassinate him in his sleep, but he understood why she did—he was unsurprised by it. "I'll talk to Jin."
Azula scoffed but said nothing as she spun on her heels and stalked off.
"I'm sorry about that," Aang apologized. "I guess you know about Haru."
Jin flinched and swallowed. "He was going to help me rule Chyung."
Aang sighed. "I'm sorry. I'll help you if you let me."
Her flinch made him regret his offer. "No. King Bor and Queen Toph said we would discuss it. His cousin is dead, leaving no heir to Omashu but him. He is King of both Ba Sing Se and Omashu."
He really wished there would not be so much work to do—so much rebuilding—but knew it was necessary.
"He should be King of Chyung and Zaofu, as well," she whispered, glancing in Bor's direction, eyes tired—and resigned. "I would give it to him if he simply asked. I will give it to him, regardless."
Aang watched as Bor fiddled with the metal lodging into his foot while talking to Toph, who snorted and shook her head; it was a complex contraption that Toph helped shape, where the metal somehow latched into his shinbone, wrapped around the radius of his leg, without causing him any pain and remain lodged firmly in place. "You are Chyung's rightful queen," he said slowly, knowing of the risks should Jin do as she wished but knowing that if he interfered, it would destabilize matters—when he had already destabilized so much. "If you think that is best, you think that is best. But you must think about what the people of Chyung would want. You cannot forget them."
"It is about what I want."
His smile felt sad to his own judgment. "It is never about what you want, not when you hold a position and authority greater than others."
Jin's fists clenched. "There is no position that should be greater than another. There must be consequences."
Knowing she was making a thinly veiled, vague allusion to his murder of Ba Sing Se, he nodded. "There are always consequences, whether you realize it or not. There will be consequences to giving Chyung to Bor."
"Who else would I give it to?" Jin snapped, staring at him for the first time in his memory without fear; she looked enraged. "I have no children, and I never will. My family is dead; there is no heir, except of my choosing. I choose King Bor as my heir since he is worthy; he is my friend. He saved my life and killed my rapist."
Aang never knew that. "I'm sorry- "
"Cease your impotent apologies, Avatar. Do you order queens to obey your bidding or not?"
"If the balance is threatened, I do," he said gently but firmly. "What you want to do may upset the balance on the continent, which could upset Fire and Water in ways you don't see. Wait until you return to Chyung to make a decision; wait for several years to make a decision."
"My child-bearing years are slipping away," Jin said, hollow. "I must make my decision quickly. I would have tried for a child with Haru—I trusted him. I could have seen myself loving him. But he is dead now, and I foresee myself never trying for a child again."
"Which would lead to an uprising in Chyung upon your death," he realized, rubbing his face. "That's why you want to give Chyung to Bor, who will have children with Toph, which ensures a succession, which is better than no succession."
Jin peered up at him, though feared had slowly returned to the depths of her eyes, darkening them of their natural color. "You know the pressure of producing children—you know it is the only salvation we have. I am childless, but I will not make Chyung childless—heirless."
"I would never let Air remain heirless," Aang whispered in agreement, especially upon knowing that Azula was pregnant, sensed by Indra, which meant an Airbender—it was the joy of his life! It felt like an ache inside him because he so desperately wanted Azula to give birth immediately to see another Airbender besides himself and Samir. It only further reminded him of the Northern Temple—and Ty Lee's family. There was so much work to do. "I understand whatever decision you make, Jin."
"I do not ask you to understand it; I ask you to accept it and not ruin it."
"If it leads to balance on the continent," he amended. "This whole Greater War was fought because of Imbalance; I will not let imbalance happen—never. It's time to rebuild and grow."
Jin turned away from him. "Some will be more successful than others."
Aang had no response and watched as she walked away from him; in effect, she was correct—he would have to rebuild himself and his legacy. He needed to rebuild his reputation across the world—across the very Realms—because his reputation was likely never lower across his whole existence, trapped in a disastrous state. But he needed to rebuild and grow from it and encourage others to trust him again—trust him fully for the first time across his existence because his title of Balance-Keeper was finally accurate for the first time.
It was only when Ozai's nature was reborn inside him that he realized how much was missing; he realized how incomplete he had been for eons. Instead of the Light and Darkness existing inside him in unequal amounts, as it had been for so long, the Light and Darkness were in equal standing—they were in harmony for the first time, which meant he was in harmony, which meant the Realms could be in harmony. Thus, his own nature was reborn, reinforced by Ozai's own nature. There were subtle differences but nothing that made him feel like not himself; ironically enough, he felt more like himself than he ever had. He felt more balanced, powerful, and strong, capable of so much more—not only in bending.
For the first time—lifetime—ever, he was actually The Avatar instead of an incomplete imposter trying to take on an impossible burden without ever understanding the problem and his inadequate solution.
Aang had redeemed Wan's failure.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Zuko waited until Aang was finished with Jin before making his move; he grasped him by the arm, making it clear he would accept no other response but an agreement. "We need to talk."
Aang was silent as he dutifully followed Zuko away from the others, giving them privacy—until he pierced the silence when they reached the distant trees. "I assume this is about Sokka."
"Part of it," he confirmed, closing his eyes briefly in memory of his dead friend—dead brother. He rubbed his fingers across the bark on one of the trees, patting it with his other hand. "You lied to me. Do you know what you lied to me about?"
"I have an idea."
Zuko glared back at Aang, who looked regretful but simultaneously unapologetic. As always, he looked for a sign of Father in Aang, but he found none—it was relieving if not infuriating, for he did not want to feel the impulse to look for Father in anyone, least of all his best friend, who was his brother because he was married to his sister. "You lied to me about Father's survival. He lives in you."
Aang frowned. "Azula told you?"
The confirmation that Azula knew the truth and kept it from him embittered his sense as he whirled around, glaring at the trees. "No. Sozin told me. Mother, Toph, and Bor know the truth, as well. I think the only one who doesn't is Katara, but she's too deep in grief to even care right now. And she's been breastfeeding Yakone often. It's like a fountain that came out of nowhere. Uncle gives her that blend, and, suddenly, her nipples are like fountainheads, and there's plenty of milk when there was nothing before."
He should care, but he was too anxious, worried, and bitter that Father would live forever when he was unworthy of the honor.
"Ozai must have told Sozin," Aang explained softly before sighing, gray eyes evaluating him—he saw none of it but felt the pressure against his back. "Yes, Ozai was reborn inside me, but it's not what you think. I had to let it happen—it must be this way."
Zuko almost threw a fireball at him. "Why? I smell dragonshit, Aang, and I hate dragonshit."
"I'm The Avatar now, but I've never been The Avatar before, not really."
"What? That makes no sense!"
"I was the Light Avatar, and Ozai became the Dark Avatar," Aang explained, and Zuko began to realize how deep the whole situation was. "I don't know if you grasp it, but Raava and Vaatu are no more—literally, they are gone forever. There's nothing left of them; they were destroyed with no recovering them. But even though they were destroyed, absorbed by me and Ozai respectively and so much more, Light and Darkness still existed—and were at odds, imbalanced and disconnected. Light and Darkness needed to be united forever again, as they were originally when the Tree shaped Raava and Vaatu. Ozai had to be destroyed in his Avatar State and be reborn inside me, or I needed to be destroyed in my Avatar State and be reborn inside him. It was the only way for Eternal Balance. I won, and now I fill the void left by Raava and Vaatu's separation when they created the Mortal Realm."
Zuko blinked, feeling in disbelief. "What Father did was a good thing?"
Aang looked tired but amused, and Zuko didn't understand how. "Yes. He restored Eternal Balance by doing everything he did. Without him, there would be no Eternal Balance. He did the right thing, Zuko; he fought to do the right thing. We all owe him a lot."
He squeezed his eyes shut, recalling how Sozin shared Father's motivations and reasons for giving him his scar. "He had his reasons," he echoed. "And they were good reasons, even if stupid reasons."
"Ozai was more of a hero than I was in some ways- "
"Don't fucking say that," Zuko hissed, enraged. "He was no hero!"
"The cosmos seeks Eternal Balance, but I stood in the way, not Vaatu—it was never Vaatu—and not Ozai. It was always me because I began the imbalance by becoming The Avatar in the first place, destroying the Balance that already existed and replacing it with this imbalance, Zuko. Your father saw the wrongness and worked to fix it, and though he died, he did fix it; he succeeded."
Zuko exhaled a sprout of flames from his mouth, nails digging into his hand from how hard he clenched his fists. "He's part of you forever."
"Yes," Aang agreed. "Victory came at a big price. All my past lives are dead."
His eyes widened in astonishment—and dread. "What?"
"They were destroyed in the process. I'm the First—with Ozai's nature harmonized with my own."
"He should have died, too!" he snapped. "Why can you not see that? He doesn't deserve to live, least of all forever!"
Aang shook his head, looking maddeningly patient while Zuko felt like he was collapsing on the inside. "It is not him who was reborn inside me but his nature, and I tell you now that his nature is a good thing—I feel it inside me, Zuko. I'm not changed because of his nature; I actually feel more like myself than I ever have. He and I were, in so many ways, the same, trying to do the same things, fighting the same things, and thinking the same things. Azula married a man very much like her father."
Zuko had already known that, but to hear that Aang felt 'better' because Father was reborn inside himself was sickening. "This is evil."
"No," Aang denied, almost stern. "This is his nature, and as you know, there are many things lovable about his nature. It's not him as you understand and remember him that's reborn inside me; it's his nature. I'm still me; in fact, I'm Whole for the first time across my existence. The Realms know Eternal Balance now after having been deprived of it for so long. And Ozai played a massive part in it, which made what he did good. Everything is connected, Zuko, and Ozai is who made this redemption possible. The Greater War is over because of your father."
"Never call him a hero, Aang," Zuko whispered, feeling exhausted; he doubted he would ever grasp the intricacies that Aang was talking about. "Do you feel him?"
"Only his nature, which is, thus, my nature—nothing has changed in any substantial way for who I am, Zuko."
"Do you hear him talking to you?"
Aang's laugh was a choked but surprised one. "No. It's only me. What I am changed, but who I am is the same."
Something tight loosened inside him, and though he was unsure it would ever not be there, he felt better. "Good."
"I'm sorry for not telling you- "
Zuko waved a hand, catching Aang's regretful expression. "I know why you did. You made the right decision. I would have never let it happen if I knew about it."
"Everything worked out, Zuko."
"Look at us," he said, gesturing vaguely back to the others by the ships—there were now way too many ships. Only one or two were necessary instead of the many they had. So many had died—too many had died. "There's maybe seventy or eighty of us- "
"Seventy-six survived, including us," Aang interrupted, looking lifeless—like all the dead bodies they buried at what was once Wulong Forest.
"It didn't work out if only that many survived," Zuko bit out, feeling exhausted. "It didn't work out if Sokka, Chief Hakoda, and Haru died—which they did. Sokka was decapitated right in front of Katara, and I know he died feeling like a failure for not being able to spare Katara from seeing his head cut off."
Aang nodded, gray eyes dull. "I know."
Zuko stared at Aang, feeling an urgency grow inside him. "But I won't let his legacy be failure—I won't. There are massive consequences to Sokka and Chief Hakoda's deaths—political consequences. There are no legitimate heirs to Water now except for Kotoro and Tonuk, but they are too young; they are vulnerable. There will be upstarts who seek to control the North and South, and they may even attempt to kidnap the boys to seize power."
"I don't know if it will reach that point," Aang said slowly after several moments of thought, but he did not appear possessively resistant to it. "I know it's bad for Water, but it's bad for Earth, too."
"Earth at least has a rightful heir in Bor," Zuko pointed out. "Bor is grown; he's mature. He's a powerful Earthbender, Metalbender, and Lavabender—and he's married to Toph. Bor will be fine. But Kotoro and Tonuk are babies; they are more vulnerable than anyone. I know Katara thinks the Family will never turn on itself, but Hama showed that Water is very capable of it. What happens when men see power available to seize? You know it as well as I do. Look at Kai and Chin the Conqueror. Power—real power—is available right now across Water, and the only two who have the rightful claim to it are the only ones who can't claim it right now because they are babies."
Aang stared at him, clearly deep in thought; the sudden lines on his face revealed he saw the true depths of the struggle—it was the very anxiety that Zuko felt. "You thought about this already."
Zuko winced. "Yes. I have to—those two boys are my nephews. Katara's nephews, yes, but still my nephews. Sokka was my brother, not only my friend—I won't fail his children."
"What's your solution?"
"To bring Suki and the twins to the Fire Nation to live with Katara and me, where I can protect them. If they stay with me, I can give them an education in ruling and politics they would never get in the North or South. I failed Sokka, but I'm not going to fail his sons. He was my friend—he became my brother, like you, Aang. I would do the same for your children if I needed to."
Aang closed his eyes. "That takes this already political situation and turns it more political. It will never look good to see the future Southern and Northern Chiefs being, in effect, raised by the Fire Lord. The North and South will look at Kotoro and Tonuk as your puppets—as Fire's puppets. This will make Kotoro and Tonuk's claims all the harder to claim."
Zuko nodded, having already thought about it. "I know, but what other choice is there? Leave them in the North or South? If Chief Hakoda was still alive, this wouldn't be an issue, but he died, too. The point is, and I think you agree with me—I don't trust anyone, least of all Onartok in the North or anyone in the South, with Kotoro and Tonuk's future and safety. Power—generational power—is there for the taking with no one to defend it adequately with the deterring threat of violence. Sokka and Chief Hakoda are dead. The only two people across Water's race who could fight for Kotoro and Tonuk's claims in a real way are dead. There will be a civil war likely."
Aang flinched. "No, there will be a regent- "
"There can only be a regent if the regent knows his place," Zuko stressed, willing for Aang to understand the gravity of the situation. "No regent for babies will know his place—because his natural place is already above those babies because he is a grown man. I'm worried Kotoro and Tonuk will be killed. There are few men left in the North and few left in the South. However, those who are left are survivors; they are fighters. No baby can compare to their resiliency." He looked across at all the warriors of the South who survived the final battle, healed of their wounds by Aang, suspecting that one of them was ambitious and willful. He had no idea which one, but he knew one was there, waiting, already thinking about it, knowing what Sokka and Chief Hakoda's deaths meant and conceiving solutions founded in blood—because blood was the only way. "One of those men will see the obvious, glaring opportunity present and seize it, likely believing, truly and fully, that he's saving Water from a threat, from possible deterioration and extinction because no baby can ever be considered a ruler or leader. You know it as well as I do—you have to know it. You're not stupid."
"Have you told Katara yet?" Aang asked quietly, brows pinched.
He shook his head. "No. She's focused on Yakone, taking her mind of things. I'll worry for her. She said she will go to the South and notify Suki about what happened. She said she needed to do it alone. Before she leaves, I'll tell her to bring Suki and the twins back with her to the Fire Nation, but I need your backing for it—I need The Avatar's endorsement."
Aang was quiet for a long time until he groaned. "It's up to Suki and Katara. If Suki doesn't feel safe in the South or thinks that Kotoro and Tonuk being raised under your care and education is best, that's fine. It's also Katara's decision. She's Sokka's sister, and she may know—or have an idea of—what Sokka would want."
Zuko's jaw clenched. "Sokka would want his kids—his heirs—safe. I'm telling you now—they are not safe in the South or the North. They are too vulnerable. They have no one to protect them. You think Suki can protect them? She's not only a non-bender in a realm filled with ice and water but, more critically, an outsider. She's not of Water, and they all know it. She was under Sokka and Chief Hakoda's protection, and no one dared challenge her or push her. But people—men who see opportunity for power—will now challenge her because Sokka and Chief Hakoda are dead. Katara would be perfect to protect Suki and the twins as she is Water's only princess, but Katara has to come back with me to the Fire Nation; she will never stay at the South. Suki will be stranded in the South, and my best assumption is that Kotoro and Tonuk would be taken from her; my worst assumption is that Kotoro and Tonuk would be killed. Hama more than showed that Water is willing to murder babies for an objective and goal."
"It's still Suki's decision, Zuko," Aang repeated, voice soft. "I do think and fear you're right, but Suki is Kotoro and Tonuk's mother. She has the final say."
"Then I need to convince Katara to convince her," he decided, knowing there was no other choice. "Suki is pragmatic; she will see reason."
Aang's gray eyes shadowed. "Or she may be blinded by grief over Sokka's death and wish to stay in the South to feel closer to him."
"Shit," Zuko cursed. "I have to go myself to convince her."
But could he afford to go and leave the Fire Nation in possible chaos since not even Uncle remained as regent? Or should he send Uncle with Katara to speak with Suki? Uncle was charming and persuasive and would know how to word the request in such a way to a grieving widow. He would rather Mother go with Katara, but Mother had already vowed and made plans to leave with Aang, Azula, and Samir—part of Zuko suspected that Mother wanted some time away from Yakone and what he represented.
"Or send Iroh in your stead to help Katara," Aang suggested.
Zuko almost laughed but sagged in relief. "You read my mind. I was just thinking that."
"Iroh will go because you need to get back to the Fire Nation."
"Yes. While I return home, Katara will go to the South to talk to Suki and explain the situation—we already discussed it."
Aang nodded in agreement. "While you do that and Katara goes to the South, and Bor and Toph start fixing up the continent with Jin's help, I'll go to the North and explain what happened—and what will happen."
Zuko felt grim. "Onartok is the Chief now. You realize that, don't you? He has no rival. A baby is not a rival—a baby is a steppingstone. You can demand he step down, but the North will not accept a baby as Chief, even Sokka's heir."
"I know," Aang assured. "I will make Onartok regent until Kotoro or Tonuk comes of age."
"Onartok will never accept it," Zuko warned. "What he sees is a permanent transformation of his generations. He will use Kotoro and Tonuk's youth to discredit them and make people look to him for leadership—and he has been in the North already all this time, leading the North. People trust him more than a baby. It would be like the madness of Fire Lord Zyrn, which no one wants, in trusting a baby."
"Zyrn was an Airbender," Aang recalled distantly. "I'm also going to stop at the Northern Temple."
"Northern Air Temple?" Zuko asked, confused by the sudden change in topic, especially as he spied the urgency—and gladness—on Aang's face.
"Yes. I also need you to do something for me."
"Which is?"
"I need you to gather Ty Lee's family—everyone related to her lineally when you get back to the Fire Nation. Send out a proclamation or something if you have to."
Zuko felt his single brow furrow. "Why? Does this have to do with Azula saying her body was the vessel of a dead Airbender?"
Aang smiled tightly before it softened suddenly—for whatever reason. "Somewhat. Ty Lee's two grandfathers were both Airbenders, born of my race."
He felt certain he misheard as he blinked. "What?"
"Ty Lee died before she could tell me," Aang revealed, looking remorseful, likely about his previous behavior at some point. Zuko had heard from Azula how Aang initially treated Samir. If Ty Lee actually was a half-spawn of Air with more Air inside her than Samir herself, Ty Lee likely experienced or suspected how Aang would treat her, which alienated her from telling Aang the truth. "But she told Sokka before she died. I guess she felt like she had to tell someone. And Sokka told me and Azula. You know that Ty Lee and Samir are—or were—cousins; Samir is lineally related to Ty Lee's family."
"Yes."
"And Ty Lee's family is descended from Fire Lord Zyrn, who was an Airbender."
"But you just said Ty Lee's grandfathers—both of them—were Airbenders," Zuko pointed out, struggling to keep up.
Aang smiled. "Exactly. Ty Lee had a lot more Air in her than she ever told anyone—her whole family does, including Samir. My guess is that all of Ty Lee's siblings and cousins, because according to Azula her family is notorious for their inbreeding, are all technically half-spawns- "
Zuko closed his eyes, piecing it together. Ty Lee's appearance—and her whole family—had been unlike anyone else's across the Fire Nation that he had ever seen. "Yes, they were inbreeders. Some said it was because they wanted to stay non-benders, but it was clearly done to stay Airbenders—if what you claim is true."
"It is true. It was done to preserve Air's presence," Aang confirmed, gray eyes sparkling. "I have a race to return to because of Ty Lee's family and never knew it. But I know it now."
"Are you sure?" he asked, not wanting Aang to get his hopes up because it all seemed to simply be a theory without much evidence.
However, instead of withering, Aang stood taller. "I'm certain. Samir's airbending must come from someone more recent in time than Fire Lord Zyrn, who lived during Kuruk's reign. And Samir is an obvious Airbender; she was born an Airbender. Ty Lee has an obvious resemblance to her, which can only come from a shared origin, and their shared origin reveals similarities to me and my race—because both of Ty Lee's grandfathers and at least two of Samir's great-grandfathers were Airbenders. I've thought about it—believe me, I've thought about it. I always knew that not every Air Nomad was slaughtered the day of the Attack, and from what Ty Lee said and Azula said, there were seven Air Nomads—seven Airbenders who survived in Ty Lee's family."
Zuko almost laughed in shock as he remembered the peculiar stories about Ty Lee's family. "The seven advisors that raised Ty Lee's family to prominence. I know the story, which is only her family's story—no other family in the Fire Nation has anything like it. Ty Lee's great-grandfather was the last of his house and sired seven daughters only daughters, having no sons; he was the last of his line, and his lands and titles—he was one of the minor nobles—were supposed to fall back to Sozin, who would disperse them to whomever he pleased. However, instead of taking the lands and titles, Sozin augmented Ty Lee's great-grandfather, raising his noble eminence and married seven advisors to his seven daughters, and the family grew quickly in number. But none were ever benders, the only family in the Fire Nation with such a mystery. Sozin saved Air—he married seven secret Airbenders into Ty Lee's family, which made Ty Lee and Samir possible."
Aang nodded. "And many more Airbenders possible."
He frowned. "But it makes no sense. I knew Ty Lee since we were children. She was never an Airbender, and no one in her family ever was, to my knowledge."
"It was hidden knowledge—it was a secret. Ty Lee said she saw the portraits of her grandfathers when they were young, and she said they looked like me—as in, likeAir, born of the same race. She also said they aged slower than normal, which means they were benders. They weren't Firebenders like assumed but Airbenders. The fact that Samir, an Airbender, is the result of that lineage confirms it. I was never satisfied by the explanation of Zyrn, who lived and reigned inKuruk'stime, as the source of Samir's airbending—it never made sense. This actually explains things about Ty Lee, like the gray eyes and her Air Nomad-like physique and mixed appearance, temperament, and propensities. Those can only happen if the source from which she inherited such things wasrecent, as in from her grandfathers, both of whom were Airbenders, born of my race, who clearly looked like me. The connection to Samir is thebiggestpoint in its favor. It confirms it more than anything else, I think—Azula agrees with me."
"Of course, she does, but why is Samir the only Airbender?"
Aang sagged. "I'm not sure. All I know is that Ty Lee's chi was wrong—it was stuck and stunted of any growth. Her chi was blocked permanently. I don't know how, but when you take into account that chi-blocking is an Air Nomad skill, discovered and mastered only by my race, it fits even more. I don't know how it became permanent, but my guess is that Ty Lee's chi was blocked to protect her life, especially since no one but Sozin knew the truth about Ty Lee's family—except possibly Ty Lee's family themselves, but even then, I really doubt they ever knew. From my understanding, Ty Lee only put it together because of her direct experience with me and Samir. I'll have to explain everything to the rest of her family, which is why I need you to gather all of them for me. Those grandfathers—seven advisors, you mentioned—are dead, but their children and grandchildren aren't, and those descendants carry Air—like Samir does. Air will never go extinct because of inbreeding now. They will help me revive Air, and my children will marry their children, making a stronger, healthier new race, making the odds of not only Air's revival but survival all but certain. This adds more lineages other than mine, strengthening Air, making Air healthy and not at risk of extensive inbreeding. I never wanted my children or grandchildren to inbreed because that was the only initial option to save Air in the long term. But now, because of the miracle of Ty Lee's family, my children and grandchildren will never marry each other; my great-great grandchildren will, which is much more ideal and tolerable. Now I have to find Ty Lee's family and notify them. I really doubt they know the truth, and I need to tell them. It's the most important thing for me now."
Zuko dimly wondered if Grandfather ever knew the truth about Ty Lee's family, but he nodded to Aang's request, feeling amazed and gladdened. "That is miraculous news. Sozin saved Air."
"That's part of why I forgave him," Aang divulged. "And the fact that I understood him. He did the best that he could with what he was given—just like us. He was a better man than anyone of my race but likely Gyatso and my father."
"Tenzin, right?" Aang glanced at him, surprised, to which Zuko smiled slightly. "Azula told me about him."
Once, Zuko knew that Aang would have been outraged that anyone dared speak of Air for him, daring suggest any understanding but his was good enough, but by the joyed and proud expression on his face, he felt only joy and contentment that Azula was his wife and Mother of Air.
"She's pregnant," Aang said quietly, like he was afraid if he said it any louder, he would scream it at the top of his lungs for the world itself to hear.
Zuko's eyes widened in shock. "Azula?"
"Indra is the one who noticed," Aang continued, looking dazed; he actually looked near tears. "An Airbender lives in Azula's womb right now, growing. It's actually why Indra betrayed Ozai and switched sides. Azula being pregnant is what ended the Greater War, truly—because I don't know if I could have held on without one of the Elementals on my side before Sozin killed Ozai, and Indra was the only Elemental capable of turning to my side."
Zuko recovered from his surprise, realizing he was now not only a father to Yakone and uncle to Samir, Kotoro, and Tonuk but an uncle four-times over—he knew he would be an uncle many-times over by the time he died. "That's amazing news, Aang—this whole conversation is amazing news, frankly. Yes, while you're gone, I promise I'll gather Ty Lee's family. I don't know how many were killed from the plague- "
"I hope none were," Aang interrupted. "Something tells me they survived with great numbers—they've been surviving extinction threats for over a century. But the plague would have never targeted them because they are non-benders—or secret Airbenders, I'm not sure."
Zuko winced. "But they could have been killed in all the chaos."
"Some probably were," Aang admitted, saddened. "But I have hope that some survived. Just gather as many as you can and have them stay at the palace with you until Azula and I return from the North. Do whatever it takes. Offer the Dragon's Throne if you have to."
He sighed. "You have to stop telling me to offer the Dragon's Throne as incentive."
"Why?"
"No one will ever take me seriously if you are heard saying that."
Aang's brief grin flashed; his gray eyes gleamed with amusement. "One look at you, and you will be taken seriously."
Zuko rolled his eyes. "You really are Azula's husband."
"How do you think I wooed her?"
"By insulting me?" he inferred, almost impressed. "That actually sounds like something that would arouse her."
Aang's grin grew. "I have a lot of subject matter to draw from, don't I?"
Zuko scoffed, but he laughed, despite himself. "You will have little difficulty seducing her into your bed for all the children you need to produce, I imagine."
"You're a good brother, Zuko."
"I know."
XxXxXxXxXxX
Everyone was saying goodbye to each other, knowing time was short and the rebuilding efforts needed to begin immediately; order needed to be restored across the endless chaos impacting Water, Earth, and Fire.
Katara hugged Toph tightly, trying not to let her tears fall since she had already let so many fall in the past days, but it was impossible to stop. "After the South, when I get back to the Fire Nation, I'll write you."
"Wait for me to write you first," Toph advised with a brief laugh. "I have no idea where we'll be. Omashu may have fallen since Anju left—no one knows. But we'll be okay, Katara, and you will be, too. You're a mom now—you're finally being yourself, you could say."
She rolled her eyes and pulled back, seeing the gleam of wicked mirth in Toph's milky eyes. "You take care of yourself. And if it helps at all, while you're learning how to be a queen, I'll be learning how to be a Fire Lady."
Toph's brows rose. "I bet I figure it out before you do."
"Not everything is a competition—but I'll figure it out before you."
"You're going to do fine, Katara," Toph encouraged, punching her arm gently. "You were born for this. I'm much more worried about me."
"You will do fine," Katara promised. "Earth is a lot more complicated with the different kingdoms, but I know Queen Toph—I mean, Queen Tough—will figure it out."
Toph smiled. "I do like ordering people around. It will be fun when it's not annoying."
"That's the spirit. Just have that for the rest of your life, and you will be a great queen."
"And you a great Fire Lady," Toph reminded, voice softening.
She nodded. "Anything less isn't good enough."
"I'm going to be seeing Azula a lot more than you in the coming years because she'll be going with Aang everywhere. But I don't know when I'm going to see you again."
Katara wiped a sudden tear from her eye—because she had no idea, either. "We'll do a vacation every year, all of us. We'll meet up for a week or two."
"Sounds like the Great Gathering all over again."
"No politics," she promised, liking the idea the more and more she thought about it. She would have to discuss it with Zuko to get a better idea, but it had a lot of promise. "It will only be us."
Toph grinned. "There will eventually be a lot of kids on a vacation. Aang and Azula will be dragging along a whole race with them."
She forced a laugh to distract herself from the bitter reminder that Sokka's children would only ever number at two—Kotoro and Tonuk—because Sokka was dead. "This is it," she whispered. "This is the last time we're all going to be together where we are just ourselves instead of our titles."
"I think I'm ready for my title," Toph admitted, surprisingly. "I'm ready to start rebuilding. Earth hasn't just been broken because of these past years and during the Great War. I learned that we've been broken for a really long time, and I want to help fix it. Kyoshi did a serious number on us when she married the Conqueror."
Katara blinked in pained disbelief. "I forgot about that. There has been so much going on."
"This is where we stop mistakes and prevent new ones. This is our chance to really make a difference, and we can only do that with our titles. I'm looking forward to it."
A not-quite-so-brittle smile spread over her face—it felt like her first real smile since Sokka and Dad were killed. "So am I. I look forward to negotiating, as Fire Lady, with one of Earth's queens."
Toph inclined her head in a strange way. "The honor will be all mine."
Katara rolled her eyes and looked at Bor, who had been lingering to the side, silent. "I'm sorry for your losses, Bor."
Bor looked at her; his unattractive face expressed pain and sympathy in equal measure. "I'm sorry for yours. I never expected to become friends with Sokka, but I did. I'm going to miss him for a long time, if not the rest of my life."
"Me too," she said, throat tightening as it worked passionately. "You watch out for Toph."
"I literally have to," Bor said dryly, but his lips twitched in weary amusement.
When Katara glanced back to see Toph's reaction, Toph was already gone, having departed to say her goodbyes to Iroh. "I hope your foot holds up," she said, returning to Bor.
Bor looked down at his peg leg and moved his fingers, which morphed the metal of his peg leg. "It can be useful. I'll watch out for Toph if you watch out for Zuko."
Katara blinked back her surprise at Bor referring to Zuko informally as 'Zuko' instead of 'Fire Lord Zuko.' "Of course. You're going to be a great king, Bor."
"Maybe one day I'll believe it."
"Bumi believed it," she said. "I know he did."
It was obvious that Bor appreciated her words but did not believe their essence yet, but he nodded his head. "You take care of yourself, Katara—and Baby Yakone."
"And Zuko," Katara vowed as she hugged Bor for a brief moment, surprising him based on his stiff posture, before she let go with one last smile and made her rounds of the others she was acquainted with—some more intimately than others. When she reached Jin, she placed a hand on her arm, startling her. "I'm sorry. We don't know each other very well, but I wish you luck."
Jin's face tightened before a genuine smile cracked. "Thank you, Fire Lady Katara- "
"Just Katara."
"Thank you, Katara. I am sorry for the losses you suffered, and please tell Suki she has my condolences for Prince Sokka's death. I know how grueling and withering it feels to lose a husband."
Katara inhaled slowly, recalling how Jin almost murdered Aang but stalled her attack. "I'll tell her. And when you get settled in Chyung, I'm sure there will be a means to message her that can be implemented. You can message any of us if you want. I would be happy to hear from you."
Jin's eyes locked onto her, wary but curious. "You know what I did to Avatar Aang."
"I know what you didn't do," she corrected. "I know from experience how hard it can feel not to kill someone who wronged you and your family."
"It was easy not to kill him," Jin corrected, looking simultaneously ashamed and cold. "It took strength I never I possessed to sneak into his room and hold a knife over him while he slept, but it was so easy to drop the knife."
Katara smiled kindly—or tried to, rather. "You made the right decision."
"I know, but there are times it seems so unfulfilling."
Shocked by Jin's brutal honesty, she could only nod. "I hope you find peace one day, Jin."
Jin glanced at her. "I hope you find it one day, as well, Katara."
Katara made her way over to Ursa, Azula, and Samir, who Toph had already said goodbye to based on the metal trinket Samir held in her hands—it was shaped intentionally into Air's symbol. "You're going to be seeing that symbol a lot more, aren't you, Samir?"
Samir had been noticeably very quiet and sullen ever since she heard about Sokka's death, but as hoped for, Samir beamed at Katara's observation, gripped the trinket tighter, and nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh. We're going back to the Air Temples!"
Azula placed a hand on top of Samir's head. "Eventually, yes. We have business to see to first."
Apparently, Samir was already notified of the development as there was a lack of pouting or questions. "Look! You're a mommy, too, Aunt Katara!"
"Yes," she confirmed, glancing back at Zuko, who held Yakone in his arms with much less awkwardness than she expected, as he spoke with Iroh and Aang, although it seemed that the conversation was mainly between Zuko and Aang as Iroh kept making faces at Yakone and wiggling his fingers above his face. "But you need to promise me you'll be good for your mommy."
Samir nodded obediently. "Uh-uh. I'm always good."
Azula smirked. "Indeed."
"And Grandma's gonna be a mommy again."
Katara had already heard from Toph that Ursa was pregnant again. Zuko was in disbelief, almost seeming to refuse to believe it, but Katara had known instantly by the look on Ursa's face, which she saw staring back at her—a grief that her baby would never know Ozai but a gladness that she would always have another piece of Ozai with her. "Your grandma will be the best mother—she's a great one."
Ursa smiled. "Thank you, Katara."
"Uncle Zuzu looks weird with a baby, Aunt Katara. Mommy thinks so, too!"
"No secrets around here," she said in amusement. "I don't think he looks weird, Samir. I think he looks handsome."
"But I'm still his favorite, right?"
Azula shook her head while Katara stifled a laugh at the hopeful, desperate expression on Samir's face—like the fact that she could not be Zuko's favorite was the evilest thing in the world. "You are my favorite, Samir," Azula drawled. "Is it not more important to be my favorite than Uncle Zuzu's favorite?"
"And you are my favorite grandchild," Ursa added, and while Katara knew it wasn't intentionally, she almost flinched at the slight to Yakone—who was now, technically, Ursa's grandson.
"Is that not enough, Samir?" Azula challenged.
Samir pouted. "But I should be everybody's favorite, Mommy."
"If you were everybody's favorite, nobody would like you."
"But that doesn't make sense!"
"It does," Katara interrupted, finding her thoughts settle on the distant memory of Kuei, who wanted to save the world, be everybody's favorite—but in the end, nobody, least of all Aang and Zuko, liked him. She had even heard Zuko use Kuei's name as a curse—such was his animosity for even the thought of Kuei, and while Katara wished things went differently in so many countless ways, she couldn't disagree with Kuei's legacy after all the stories she heard. "You want those closest to you to like you—you want to be their favorite."
Samir nodded, although she clearly didn't understand the distinction. "Uh-huh. I'm Daddy's favorite, and that's what matters."
Katara smiled down at her before looking at Azula, who was, against all odds, part of her Family—and she wasn't bitter or resentful of it. Rather, she was glad Azula was part of the Family, actually. She had grown so accustomed to Azula's presence that she suspected she would miss Azula—a shocking revelation. In fact, she had started liking Azula so much that she could perceive no other woman as Aang's wife and Mother of Air. There was no fear of her children—of Yakone himself now that he had arrived—having Aunt Azula as their aunt.
"Go to your father, Samir," Azula ordered, clearly sensing that the subsequent words were not for Samir to hear, and thankfully, Ursa grabbed Samir's hands and guided her away.
"There's so much to say," she said, voice drifting as she stared at Azula, who stared back with a reflective consideration. "There's a lot I want to say."
"Your lack of verbal continuance, notwithstanding," Azula drawled in amusement, but her golden eyes were dark with memories. "I shot lightning to kill you during Sozin's Comet, and for a long time, I wished, truly to my core, that Zuko had not been possessed by such gallantry. However, now I no longer regret his silliness—in fact, I am glad Zuko intercepted my lightning like the fool he is."
Katara laughed, despite herself. "So am I."
"It is an honor to know you, Sister. I once thought no one could protect Zuko when it really mattered but myself, but you have proven me wrong and eclipsed my natural skill at and inclination for it. You are his wife, and while there is no doubt he could have obtained a worthier Fire Lady, he could have never found a better one than you."
"I feel the same about you being Mother of Air," she said honestly. "I can never describe the horror I felt when I realized how much Aang loved you, but I feel no horror anymore because I see how much you love him back."
Azula smirked. "Someone must keep him from losing himself in the clouds."
"Thank you for doing that; thank you for loving him—I know it must have been hard at some points."
Something flashed over Azula's face before it was gone. "I met him on Ember Island first, which is likely what made our marriage possible. If I had met him at any point before he decided to take his vacation, I am unsure I would have felt invested enough to love him. I was attracted to him swiftly and loved him shortly thereafter upon reflection, but I never expected his friendship. He told me Air is all about friendship and that we could be friends; he said that Gyatso once told him that nothing ever ends and that there are only directions. I thought my life, upon Zuko freeing me from my prison, was over—I thought I would be killed somehow in the new war, likely by Spineless Kuei. Yet I was wrong—because it was a new direction my life went, and I had little idea of what its culmination would be. Air teaches that the root of all love is friendship. That is why Air traveled once, why their roots were nomadic—to experience Life and cultivate friendships to produce love. They were once nomads wandering the world in small units—units who knew values and wisdom—and made friendships everywhere they went. I nominated myself for Mother of Air out of friendship because I did love Aang and Air—and Air's values, including friendship. I doubt I grasped its meaning when I did nominate myself, but the feeling was there, however confusing and obscure. Aang's decision to take his vacation changed my life forever—because it exposed me to friendship, not only with him but all of you. You have become my friends, and I consider all of you such, even your brother, against all odds. His loss grieves me because he was a friend, but though he is gone, his friendship—the memory of his friendship—remains, and it will only die when I die; it will stay with me all my life, which means he will stay with me, as well."
Katara's eyes watered from emotion, and she inhaled slowly to prevent a sudden sob. "I know, but it's not good enough. I want all of him here. Memories aren't good enough."
Azula's face was shockingly powerful in its knowingness and even sympathy. "No, but memories are all we have and have left in the end. Aang told me that Life is a memory, and he is right. To live in times before they are memories is not only destined but tragic, yet the memory is what is powerful—it holds an undying quality that stays forever with you. The goal is to not simply remember your memories but live your memories; it is the only way the memory stays real, and Sokka, your father, and everyone we lost and will ever lose are worth the memory."
She wiped tears from her eyes, almost laughing in hysteria. "No wonder Aang married you."
"I learned most of it from Aang," Azula replied, voice softer. "He battled with his memories for a long time—more than you or I can fathom. Yet his memories brought him no peace, only torment—because he fought against them and refused to accept their nature. Yet he has peace now and embraces the memory; he stopped fighting it. If you are to ever have peace about Sokka and your father, you must do the same. You must live instead of remember."
"I can't do that," she gasped, heart racing in pressure from the thought—it was horrifying! "I don't know if I'll ever be able to do it."
"Yes, you will," a familiar voice echoed from behind her.
Katara turned and stared at Aang, whose gray eyes were gentle and kind. "I'm not like you, Aang," she admitted. "I can't forget what I saw—I can't forget how Sokka and Dad were murdered right in front of me. I watched Sokka get decapitated."
It was the worst moment of her life.
"I don't forget everything I saw about my race. You're not supposed to forget; there are some things impossible to forget," Aang consoled, staring down at her with deep compassion, and she was momentarily startled by the brilliant clarity in his gray eyes before she nodded, holding onto her emotions. She suspected that Sokka and Dad's deaths would be a wound that would never heal—or at least take a very long time, like Mom's death. "I'm sorry about Sokka and your dad."
"Me too," she whispered, dimly realizing that Azula had left them alone. "Things are different now. I think the only thing that's getting me through it is the fact I know that they're with Mom again; they get to see her and talk to her again, just be with her."
"I know," Aang said, and the look in his eyes, free of tears, told her that he really did know exactly what she felt, likely better than she could ever know and feel—because he had experienced Air's murder and everything that went with it, living with it for every day of the rest of his life. "It's the only bearable thing in an unbearable situation."
Katara thought of her newborn nephews, who would never hold any memory of their father and grandfather. "Why did it have to be them? I know I shouldn't think it or feel it, but I wish it was someone else, like some of the other survivors we found. Why couldn't it have been them? Zuko told me all about the politics, and I agree—Water's going to have no real peace for another twenty years, at least, while Fire and Earth will have much more peace and stability because of it. Sokka and Dad were too important, not only to me but Water and the world's future, to die."
Aang's smile was serene. "My race, fundamentally crucial to the world and Eternal Balance, was wiped from the world, but Air returns; Air hasn't had peace in many generations, and Air returns. Water's peace will return, Katara. It will work out."
She nodded, though it didn't hold much conviction—she felt too weary. Maybe one day she would believe it, but today wouldn't be that day. "It will work out with us apart. We have to say goodbye."
"In one way or another."
"It's not forever," Katara promised, breaths rattling in her chests as she remembered what happened after the Great War ended. What happened after the Greater War's end would be different—she would ensure it!
"I know," Aang whispered. "We all know what we're doing now and what we have to do. We're no longer children who don't know anything."
She pulled him into a hug and felt reassured—somehow—by his arms around her. The Greater War was over, and Aang was still alive and himself, which meant, just like with the Great War, there would always be hope—even when it felt so impossible after Sokka and Dad's deaths. "We're going to write each other," she said, squeezing him. "It won't be like last time."
"We'll visit."
Katara tried to smile but felt it was more like a grimace as she pulled back, staring up at him, taking in his appearance, which was so powerfully different from the boy she woke up from that iceberg—but it was still recognizably Aang, whose gray eyes were mesmerizing and bright with the hope of the world. "You saved the world again—I'm so proud of you."
Aang's smile flared for a moment. "I had the best of friends to help me. I could have never succeeded without any of you. The Greater War is over because of you, not because of me."
"He only says that because Azula is not here," Zuko interrupted with a drawl.
Katara smiled slightly as she glanced at his approaching form and eagerly accepted the sleeping Yakone into her arms. "I can imagine," she said in agreement, adjusting Yakone's weight until she found a more optimal and comfortable position; it was getting easier and easier. Her breastfeeding sessions had taught her a lot about how his body nestled with her own.
Aang rolled his eyes. "She's not that bad."
"Azula has always been well aware of status," Zuko said, sounding like he was reciting something. "She would make sure her husband shared a similar awareness, whether by force or not."
"That awareness tells me that she is in need of my presence," Aang said, inclining his head with what could have been an obnoxious grin if not for the teasing mirth in his gray eyes. "I'll see you both when we get back from the North."
Katara returned his goodbye, echoing Zuko, and watched as he bounded over to Ursa, Azula, and Samir, who spoke animatedly with Iroh, showing with pride her airbending forms. "He's grown so much," she said distantly.
"Yakone?" Zuko asked, single brow rising as he peered down at Yakone, who was still asleep. "I don't notice a difference. He looks the same."
She half-heartedly smacked his shoulder but smirked. "No, not Yakone. I mean Aang. He's not that boy anymore."
"But in some ways, he's more like that boy than ever."
"It gives me hope," she confessed but looked down, finding focus on Yakone's sleeping face. "I'm worried about what's going to happen."
"The trip?" Zuko asked, glancing down at her in concern. "If you are worried about having days to dwell on what to say to Suki and how it will madden you, the trip would go faster if you took Druk- "
Katara rolled her eyes fondly. "That would be hard on our newborn son, Zuko, who's accompanying me. And I doubt Iroh would fit on Druk."
Zuko blinked, as if the thought of Yakone's fragile constitution never occurred to him when it came to Druk and the hazards of dragon-riding. "And if Suki agrees to return with you, that would be an impossible trip," he recovered, lips stretching slightly. "This is why I married you—for your wisdom alone."
"I hope some other things," she said idly but could not stop the small smile on her face; it stretched her face strangely after all the grief that had worn it recently—but it was real.
"It will be a brutal conversation," Zuko warned, but he looked confident—somehow. "It may be the worst one of your life. But I know you got it. Your strength is one of your best traits."
Katara kissed him, knowing the memory would have to satisfy her for their time apart. "Thanks. Go be the Fire Lord."
"Always. You make sure Suki and the twins are safe, and if you have to knock them out and drag them back with you, you do it."
A surprising laugh escaped her. "That's a little too Avatar-hunting-like for me."
Zuko smirked. "You know what I mean. Do whatever it takes. Uncle will help."
"If Suki wants to stay, I won't stop her," she warned firmly, already dreading what Suki's reaction would be to Sokka's death. "It's her decision, Zuko. I know what you and Aang said about all the politics, and I'll tell her, but it's still her decision. I'm not going to take that decision from her. Those are her babies—those are Sokka's babies. She knows what he would want better than you or I do." When it looked like he was going to argue, she placed a finger over his lips. "Trust me, please."
He sighed. "I trust you."
Katara glanced out at Iroh, who was waving at Aang, Ursa, Azula, and Samir as they began climbing on Appa; Iroh awaited by the ship she would help sail back to the South. "I'm going to tell her the worst thing she's ever heard. I'm going to be the Family-destroyer in her mind, not Karnok or the Moon Spirit."
Zuko winced. "Did you really ask Aang to destroy the Moon Spirit?"
She closed her eyes. "No. It doesn't matter how much I want him to or how much she deserves it, I know he never will. It would be like restarting the Greater War all over again."
"In some way," Zuko agreed, sounding relieved, sad, and proud simultaneously. "Tell Suki she is more than welcome to stay with us. Tell her I'm not afraid to order her."
"As Fire Lord?"
"As a friend—a concerned uncle, too."
Katara saw Iroh begin climbing the ship's ramp, accompanying the twenty-seven Waterbenders who survived the final battle—none of whose names she actually knew. "You learned from the best."
"And how to be a father," Zuko agreed, brushing his fingers over Yakone's fine baby hair. "You take good care of Yakone while there. He's half Fire; he may get cold while there."
She smiled. "I'm full Water and I get cold there. The only one who doesn't get cold anywhere is Aang."
If he was still alive, Sokka would mutter something about 'fucking Airbenders' with bitter jealousy, but Zuko simply nodded, as if it was an easy fact. "Just be on guard."
Katara thought of her Family's depleted state and gripped Yakone tighter and leaned into Zuko more. "Nothing will get past me."
Never again!
XxXxXxXxXxX
Beginning to rebuild the Earth Kingdom was grueling work that demanded immediate oversight and command. Luckily, by the time they reached Omashu, the city was still standing—although there had been a man who was masquerading as the new king, having seized the throne after Anju left with her army.
Bor challenged the man to a duel for the throne, following Omashu's ancient tradition where anyone could challenge the king for the throne, issuing his own claim. Naturally, having been refined over his many combat experiences and spars with Toph and Grandfather, he defeated and killed the false king in short order and reclaimed Omashu's throne for his bloodline, following in Grandfather's footsteps in doing whatever was necessary for the betterment of his race.
"If we weren't already married," Toph insinuated with a commendatory whistle after he ordered the few nobles who remained and were still alive to resume their duties and begin ensuring order across the city and territories belonging to Omashu until he could focus extensively on it—he had too many other things to attend to, first—mainly preserving the continent during all the chaos and creating lines of communication with men and women he knew would be loyal to him. "I'd demand you marry me right now. You make Bumi proud with how strong you've become."
"Do I make you proud?"
Toph snorted. "We're married, aren't we?"
"I'd have it no other way," he said idly as he reviewed a list provided to him by the nobles—a report that had been ordered by his fake predecessor to gauge an estimate of the continent's stability and happenings.
"What are you reading?" Toph asked, coming near him, milky eyes looking at him but not looking at him—he was well used to it. In fact, he found comfort and gladness in it—because it was Toph.
Bor put the report down, mind working rapidly. "A report about what's going on—the latest intelligence across the continent."
"What's it say?"
"What we already knew, but it gives more specifics. The continent is in chaos; there's turmoil and hysteria everywhere as people are competing for resources and killing indiscriminately, fighting miniature wars when the Greater War is over. People don't believe that things are okay now and can be okay. Factions have broken out among people out of the remains of Ba Sing Se. The territories are brimming with people looking for safety but unable to find out because there's no order; they look for a leader like Grandfather and can't find him. There's too much confusion and disarray. The death toll has surpassed numbers—it's too steep and deep."
Toph looked grim. "It's been like this for a long time now."
Jin nodded, face pinched in worry and stress; she had appeared to age years since she heard about Haru's death. "More exoduses of people—mass movement, trying to find a refuge. No one knows the truth."
"That's what we have to provide," Bor said, feeling the true burden of kingship of rebuilding efforts hit him simultaneously. "We have to reassure people—our race—that all this death, tragedy, and confusion is over and can be over. We have to give everyone hope and confidence. We need them to trust us."
"When few Earth Kings in the past generations have proven themselves worthy of trust," Jin whispered, looking overwhelmed. "I should not be Queen of Chyung—it is not within my capability. You should be its king, King Bor. You should be King of Earth—there is no one of real value and significance to oppose you."
Bor closed his eyes. "That's not going to happen. Grandfather always said that one King of Earth was a badgermole shit solution."
Toph sighed. "It may be the only one we have."
"You want to be Queen of Earth?" he asked, surprised. "That doesn't seem like you."
"It's not," Toph confirmed. "I'd rather crush a noble's skull than have him kiss my ass, but we need to rally behind someone, and you can be that king, Bor. You're Bumi's known grandson, and whether you like it or not, you have a lot of nobility in your blood—you have Kyoshi's blood in your veins, too, which is legendary."
Bor felt his jaw clench at the reminder of his father. "No one will ever know that. I'd rather lose my kingship than have anyone know about that."
"You would rule Chyung better than I could," Jin pointed out.
"I would still need a representative there, even if I was its king," he snapped. "I would need a vassal- "
"I will be your vassal."
Bor stared at her, trying to figure out her strategy. "But you don't want to be queen."
Jin's face was frozen in a steely determination—and tragedy. "Queenship requires producing an heir, and I am unable to produce one—I cannot put myself through the agony again, especially when I have no husband."
Toph snorted, but it sounded dull. "You could have every man on the continent wanting to be your husband."
"And that is why I want none of them. I would have accepted Haru, but he is dead. There is no one I would accept."
"You're lying," Toph said sharply, eyes narrowing, though she didn't sound particularly surprised. "How desperate are you?"
Jin's face was blank—too blank. "If I knew it was a feasible option, I would recommend we become sister-wives to ensure King Bor is King of Earth."
Bor blinked, certain he had misheard, but Jin's expression remained the same. "What? I'm not doing that! I'm not marrying you! I have Toph!"
"I know," Jin agreed. "But the truth is that you are the only other man besides Haru or Thryn I would accept as my husband. I trust you."
He wondered dimly if Zuko had ever felt so tangled by the romantic connections forced on him by people who wanted to set the Fire Lord in a marriage. "Jin, that's not going to happen- "
"I know," she confirmed almost in dismissal. "Yet because I trust you, I offer to you Chyung's throne. You would thus hold Ba Sing Se, Omashu, and Chyung. It would not take long for Zaofu, whoever is holding it currently if it is being held, to offer you the same."
Toph tapped her finger on the stone table between them scattering several papers provided by the nobles. "Unifying Earth is in your blood, Bor, and unlike the Conqueror's wife in Kyoshi, I'm not going to eventually disagree with your methods. His was built on bloodshed, but yours is a campaign to end the bloodshed. I'm never going to go 'Kyoshi' on you or anything."
Bor scoffed, heart racing—he knew Toph felt it. "That's not what I hate about it. It shouldn't be my burden to do this. It should be someone else's."
"There is no one else, King Bor," Jin said kindly. "All of Earth's kingly lineages are wiped out, except for you—and me. However, I can have no children. I can hold Chyung for you as a vassal, but it will inevitably pass to you upon my death as I will not live as long as you. You are the only one who can extend the lineage- "
"That does not mean I should," he bit out, reminded bitterly of his inbred lineage, given to him by his father. "Fire and Water do not need this unification process because Fire is already unified and Water can't be unified."
He had never told Sokka, but it had always been his suspicion that the North and South could never be unified because of the vast distance between them—it never made sense to him. Not to mention the evident cultural differences he heard Katara talking about several times.
Toph's eyes narrowed. "Yes, because Sokka's dead—and so is Hakoda. Water's way more fucked than Earth is because you have the chance now—we have the chance now—to make sure there's peace, order, and stability a generation from now by working for it. I heard Zuko telling Katara about what he thinks is going to happen to Water because Sokka is dead, and it's not pretty. Now, that may be Zuko's idea of sweet-talking his wife, but I don't want that to happen to Earth. I want Earth to be secured as quickly as possible; I don't want more uncertainty to keep happening for years because there's always the possibility that something bad will happen. I want us to make it certain that nothing bad can happen to Earth. Our race has suffered enough these past generations, and if I understood Aang correctly, we've really suffered ever since the Conqueror and Kyoshi. I know why Kyoshi reversed everything the Conqueror did, but part of me thinks that if she didn't and left us unified as the Conqueror intended, we wouldn't currently be in this mess and maybe the Great War would have never happened in the first place."
"It was always going to happen," he reminded uselessly.
Toph nodded. "Exactly. This is our chance to really make Eternal Balance like Aang kept talking about; this is our chance to make sure that something like the Great War, which was only possible because the Earth Kings, chosen by Kyoshi, decided to be some wicked, selfish cunts, never happens again; and this is our chance to give us some peace for the first time in our lives."
Bor began to grasp the picture she provided him. "You really want us to do what Kai successfully did with Fire, the Conqueror successfully did with Earth before Kyoshi changed her mind, and what Water will never have the odds to do?"
Jin's eyes were determined. "This is the only option we can see."
"You've already discussed this," he realized, cursing as he should have known they would team-up on him.
Toph shrugged and cracked her knuckles. "I figured I should test my diplomatic skills by talking with a fellow queen—I mean, one of our vassals."
When Bor saw only hope and relief on Jin's face, he realized it really was the only choice; he was bolstered by Toph's calm logic and actually felt his lips stretch in a smile. "We start now."
XxXxXxXxXxX
Aang had not been to the Northern Temple in many years, but the last time he had seen it, it was pristine—because he had spent months restoring and augmenting it, making it look as perfect as possible. Yet as Appa flew closer, he glimpsed visible evidence of imperfections that were once not there after he restored it. He urged Appa onward, intensifying his speed, ignoring Azula and Samir's sudden questions—his eyes narrowed in discontent as, instead of being a trick of Agni's light, the imperfections grew in size and quantity. There had evidently been a big fight, cracking some of the temple areas and toppling statues and ruining some of the murals and frescoes.
Upon landing, he expected to be greeted by possibly Teo, the Mechanic, or any of the other refugees he had begrudgingly allowed to live on the temple's sacred grounds with an explanation for what happened—possibly several 'modifications' or 'inventions' made by the Mechanic that went poorly. But what he didn't expect was to be greeted by people he had never met before with no Teo or Mechanic in sight. The people were clearly of Earth, but many were older; they looked like fighters based on their builds and expressions on their faces, who watched him warily as he jumped off Appa's head and met their stares.
"Something is not right," Azula advised in the faintest of whispers, something audible only to his ears; her grip on Samir's arm tightened, and for once, Samir stayed quiet, possibly grasping the urgency. Beside her, Ursa, golden eyes were sharp and prepared, ready for anything.
However, Aang only smiled and approached the group, keeping his senses sharp. "It's good to see you all. Where's Teo? What about the Mechanic? I'd like to speak with both, preferably."
"Not here," the lead man with a large beard answered. "They went down to the ravine."
Aang sensed no lie. "And you are?"
"Just a refugee, Avatar—like the others here."
Again, he sensed no lie, but he couldn't shake the instinct that something was wrong as he continued observing all of them—and recognized none. When he stretched his sense, he felt the energies and presences of many more people inside the temple, hidden behind the walls that still remained, hiding on different levels. "If Teo is in the ravine, I'll go find him and speak with him- "
When the leader's face flashed with panic and urgency before it was hidden behind a fractured mask, he cut himself off. "You won't find him. Anything you can say to him you can say to me."
He frowned. "That's not your decision to make."
Azula whispered something to Samir, who nodded obediently and remained in the saddle with Ursa as Azula jumped to the temple ground, landing gracefully; her golden eyes, piercing and probing, evaluated the group. "You are most suspicious. Shall I be most suspicious, as well?"
"Who are you?" the leader demanded with boldness, evidently eyeing Azula's Fire features but Air garbs.
"His wife," she answered with a hum. "Whose permission do you hold to be here?"
The leader froze. "What?"
"Whose permission do you hold?" she demanded, voice sharpening—waiting.
"The Avatar's- "
Aang felt the man's heartbeat quicken. "You're lying."
Azula's smile was cold. "Whose permission, deceiver?"
The man's glare was chilling. "Ours."
"Where is Teo?" Aang repeated, having that dreadful feeling in his gut—again.
"I told you—in the ravine."
"With all the others, I assume," Azula judged. "But should we go down to find them, we will find only a collection of broken bones, I gather."
Aang closed his eyes as he realized the truth. "You threw all of them off the temple and let them fall into the ravine. You murdered them."
The man's jaw clenched while the men and women behind him looked panicked but resolute. "We had no choice. They wouldn't let us stay here."
"At my insistence!" Aang hissed, feeling horrified that so much more blood had been shed on Air's sacred grounds. The wind began to pick up around him in deadly warning. "You are not welcome here, trespassers! I command you—leave."
The leader's defiance shone in his eyes. "No."
When his sudden rage almost engulfed him, Aang remembered Samir and glanced at Appa. "Yip-yip."
Appa took off, obeying his command, moving Samir from the possible conflict—and giving Ursa a powerful vantage from above to shoot lightning, if necessary. Though Azula would likely be annoyed by his concern, she would appreciate it because it was born of his concern for Samir. He had no doubts that Azula could easily deal with any attack and was thankful she was with him to be part of the possible conflict
"You think my wife will stop me, but she won't," he hissed as he glared at the group of men. He made the air begin to howl through the air in undeniable presence. "But she knows not to stop me. If she tried, I'd probably annul our marriage because this is too important. This is Air—this is my race. You are not of my race and have proven yourselves not to be friends of my race by tarnishing the temple's perfections, seeking murder on these holy grounds. You are not welcome here. This is the only peaceful chance you have. Leave now or share the fates of those you murdered here."
"And go where?" the leader spat, furious—but fearful. "We fled here from the continent's destruction! This was our only salvation!"
"It is a salvation not meant for you," Aang retorted. "You enjoyed stolen salvation long enough. I see what happened. You killed everyone previously living here because you didn't trust them, and there was fighting that broke out. I hereby banish you because of it."
"You can't do that!"
Aang felt the Darkness inside, given to him by Ozai, and let it color his words with power. "I am the only one in the world beyond Indra herself in possession of the authority to make any decision regarding Air and Air's temples. These sacred grounds have been watered by too much blood," he hissed. "This temple has seen too much death. Leave—you are not welcome here."
"Where do we go?"
"Back from where you came. The Greater War is over—I ended it. The continent is rebuilding; there will be no more destruction."
The leader and his followers looked distrustful and resentful—and fearful. "You caused the destruction with Ba Sing Se. Why should we trust you?"
Aang understood the doubt but was weary of the reminder of his crime. "You should never trust me until I earn your trust."
"Banishing us from this refuge is not the way to earn our trust."
His fists clenched. "So be it. This is my home, and it is not yours. These temples are monuments of my race and my race alone—they exist only for those of my race and whom I deem welcome."
"The Air Nomads welcomed everyone," the leader protested.
Aang almost laughed at the delusion—no one knew his race but him. "No, they didn't. They welcomed no one but themselves."
The leader finally looked back at his followers, who remained silent but either refused to meet Aang's gaze or glared at him in impotent defiance. "You would cast us out?" the leader whispered, face betraying his desperation. "Do you know what we had to do to survive this long?"
Azula raised a brow. "Besides murder, you mean."
"We have children with us—please."
Aang shook his head, understanding a weaponized situation when he saw one. "You're leaving. I'll even fly you down the mountains if- "
The leader scoffed, disgusted. "We are Earthbenders; we can get down easily."
"Then why are you still here?" Azula asked, looking bored but vigilant. "You sully the sanctity of this place with your reeking presences. I am surprised we did not smell your stench in the clouds."
Aang stared at the leader. "Is there going to be a problem?"
"There already is one," the leader hissed but motioned toward his followers. "Gather your things, everyone. The Avatar murders us like he did Ba Sing Se, and he's not even sorry."
His fists clenched; he felt the wind pick up its speed. "You murdered the refugees I let stay here, who, while not Air Nomads, lived Air's culture to the best of their limited abilities. Of course, I am not sorry for banishing you. Consider my mercy in the forgiveness I bestow on you for murdering them and only demand your banishment of this place instead of your lives."
Azula let a sapphire flame blossom across her fingertips; there was an expectant look on her face, conveyed by the gleam in her golden eyes. "Must he demand more?"
The leader bowed his head in defeat, but Aang felt little satisfaction—he would only feel satisfaction when not only the Northern Temple but all the Air Temples were housed with Air Nomads again.
But when he looked at Azula, he reminded himself of the baby living inside her, growing, maturing into the inheritance that was Air's and Air's alone.
It would be enough.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Restoring order to the Fire Nation was not as difficult as he feared—if anything, it was as if those who remained of his race were waiting for order to be restored and welcomed it with eagerness and joy. His race was so obviously exhausted by the all the death and abandonment due to Jet's plague and its devastating consequences; his race wanted the memories of fathers hunting sons and mothers ripping their children apart to fade forever, be something forgotten in a nightmare too indistinct to ever describe, least of all remember; his race wanted the horror stories and damnation from which they suffered to end!
Zuko wanted it, too—he wanted it more than anything!
Upon returning to his homeland with the Greater War behind him, he was prepared to kill, shed blood, and fight his way back onto the Dragon's Throne, expecting for rivals to have tried to claim it, but it was obvious that no rival ever did claim it while he was gone, almost as if there was a perennial recognition that only a man of Sozin's line could occupy the Dragon's Throne with honesty and goodwill. He quickly re-established authority and communication, connecting with those who had dared return to the Caldera after the plague had ended, even, to his surprise and relief, finding out that several of the minor nobles who had always been loyal to him were still alive.
Thankfully, those nobles knew their orders but also had news about Ty Lee's family when asked and said that while some of Ty Lee's family, all the elderly, had died, the majority had survived. To keep his promise to Aang, who he had promised to gather Ty Lee's surviving family, he asked one of the nobles to return with Ty Lee's family, offering him the enticing vow of a favor from The Avatar and Fire Lord—the two most powerful men in the world—if he braved the uncertainty and returned with them. All that remained was waiting for them to show up and offer them guest royal quarters until Aang arrived after speaking with Onartok in the North.
But there were still so many other things to do.
Zuko felt like the pressure mounted as each thought and action revealed that more thoughts and actions were needed, and he scrambled with consistency to ensure that all issues were resolved competently and completely. In some ways, it was eerily familiar as he had implemented remarkably similar actions and solutions after the Great War ended, but there was a critical difference—he was no longer a naïve idiot who made decisions out of ignorance and hope instead of experience and foresight.
He committed to his decisions with complementary enthusiasm and weariness, feeling the grief of Father's death lingering in his mind and heart, haunting him with a precision so terrible he feared that his decisions carried its taint and would infect everything he tried to accomplish. His stress at times, upon considering how numerically devastated Fire was because of Jet's damned plague and the Greater War as a whole, made him feel ragged, almost like ripping out his beard hairs just to feel something other than the stress. So many were lost—it was confirmed and reinforced with every decision he made, which had to take into account Fire's numbers, both projected and actual. And amongst all those who were lost was Father.
He had lost his father, something that never seemed possible to him. He had always known he would lose Father, preparing him for the real occurrence, but he had never foreseen the actual impact it would have on him. Even in his prison cell after the Great War, firebending smothered, Father had seemed unkillable somehow—but Father still died. Yet Father was reborn inside Aang—but he would never see Father again or hear his voice.
He had lost so many people in his life, starting with Lu Ten, then Grandfather after him, Mother the day after for eleven years before he found her, and Father when Father elected to be a weak Fire Lord and maim his face out of desperation because he had allowed himself to be trapped in a tightening range of options that narrowed from death to maiming; he lost Azula to her madness and Uncle to Ba Sing Se; and now he had finally lost Father to his death.
It felt miraculous that Mother and Uncle survived the Greater War, though judging by how severely Uncle aged across the past three years, Uncle perhaps only had several more years left. Azula also survived, but he had already technically lost her once to Father's lightning attack before Aang returned her spirit. Katara had survived, but Katara had lost many parts of herself by the end with Sokka and Chief Hakoda's deaths—and Hama's cruel, treacherous behavior.
Would he lose anyone else, or would the losses impact Fire in a rebirth, which was desperately needed after all the chaos and tragedy that had befallen his race for generations?
Zuko intended rebirth, no matter the cost—he endeavored for it!
XxXxXxXxXxX
Arriving at the South wasn't a joyful experience, most of all because Suki took one look at her and somehow knew the truth instantly without needing any words to convey it to her. Immediately, the South changed; the air itself did. While it was as cold as it always was, carried forth by the frigid wind with its icy presence, the cold felt heavier, like it actively pierced everyone to the innards, and no amount of protective layers could stop the cold from enveloping and consuming—and harming. News of Sokka and Dad's deaths spread like fire where no fire should ever burn—because it was too cold!—and she tried to control the spread, wanting to maintain the calm, but it was disastrously obvious that there was no stopping the information's coverage.
There was a powerful uproar and public grief for Sokka and Dad—and all the others who were lost since so few of the South's warriors survived and came back with her—with everyone demanding questions and explanations, but with every time she was forced to give a more and more stilted account of the events, despite Iroh's gentle help and best efforts to take the burden from her, she felt the cold swallowing her more deeply, pulling her in like it was the Ocean itself. Once, she would have wanted to be in the Ocean, but after the Ocean Spirit—the Ocean Spirit would have never been in disagreement with the Moon Spirit's decision to not save Sokka and Dad—betrayed her by not saving Sokka and Dad's lives, she wanted nothing to do with the Ocean Spirit, who classified as a Family-destroyer just like the bitch Moon Spirit.
The whispers were everywhere and growing louder and more prominent—much more quickly than she had ever expected, and it left a dreadful sensation inside her. Questions about the succession were everywhere with factions beginning to form to support a temporary chief to stand for Kotoro or Tonuk. It all happened so quickly that it was almost as if people—the Family—didn't care, deep down, that Sokka and Dad were dead. There was an incessant insistence for answers, a pervading sense of seeking authority during the possible chaos—and the chaos was very possible, especially with so many people compromised by grief from their loved ones' deaths.
She knew she should pay more attention to the frightening developments, but she paid more attention to Gran-gran, who had collapsed upon hearing that their Family was devastated with her new husband, son, grandson, and sister dying. She had worked diligently to heal Gran-gran, while taking periodic breaks to breastfeed Yakone, but it was difficult; it was almost as if her body didn't want to heal. Even showing and introducing her to Yakone didn't help as much as she thought it would; while the visible evidence that a piece of her sister would live on helped somewhat, the gains were minimal compared to what they could have been.
"Iroh's watching the twins and Yakone," Suki said suddenly, entering the healing hut, where Katara watched and worked on Gran-gran, taking breaks every once in a while; in some ways, it was a reprieve from all the chaos outside, but in other ways, it was more of a torment. "I thought we should talk."
"Do you want to come back with me to the Fire Nation?" she asked, feeling hollow as she stared at Gran-gran's withered, vacant face, pulling her water-coated hands away. It was almost as if Gran-gran was dead—just like the rest of her Family beyond Zuko, Yakone, Suki, Kotoro, and Tonuk. "Zuko thinks it's a good idea."
"Iroh thinks so, too," Suki added, voice tired; there were deep, sunken bags under her eyes—not only due to being a new mother. "He's already discussed it with me. He called himself Zuko's official ambassador on the subject and you the unofficial ambassador."
Katara glanced at her, not even trying to smile; she lacked the energy—and it looked like Suki lacked the energy to deal with a smile, especially a fake one. "He said you said no. Has that changed?"
Suki's laugh was like a puff of air in the breeze. "What else can I do, Katara? I'm technically Water's Chiefess now, but it doesn't feel like it at all. It has to change if the twins are going to have the lives Sokka and I always dreamed for them. I must stay here with them and work to secure a position of authority—I must be the Chiefess."
She swallowed, the truth blinding her. "You will never be Chiefess here—or in the North. Water will never have a Chiefess. You must know that."
"Sokka would want me to try for our boys. If I don't, they lose their inheritances, and I don't see how they can ever get them back in a real way. If Zuko houses them and educates them, as he's offering, Water would see them as outsiders—exactly like they see me. I won't let that happen for them—I know what it's like, and this is my chance to make sure they won't experience it."
"I don't know if Sokka would want it," she whispered, truly uncertain.
Suki's eyes blazed. "All I know is that Sokka is dead and can't speak for himself, and it's up to me, as his wife, to speak for him; there's no one else who can in any honest way. He fought for his inheritance and position; he did everything he could except marry Arnook's cousin; he even stood by and did nothing when you were engaged to Kuei, no matter how much he didn't like it and wanted you to be happy, so he could secure his position—and, thus, our children's positions. He did all of this for our family, and I have to think of that—I have to remember it. I have to fight because he no longer can. I appreciate Zuko's concern—I do so much and so deeply—but I can't accept the offer, not in good conscience when I know that leaving the South means losing it and the North for the twins, which Sokka would never want to see happen."
Katara swallowed, recalling some of the stories that Zuko shared with her about Fire's history—how the political game resulted in deranged murders of innocent children who obstructed the path to perceived power. "I think Sokka would want the twins alive, and if seeing them alive means sacrificing their claims to their inheritances by leaving, he would do it."
"What do you think is going to happen?" Suki asked in disbelief, staring at her in concern. "Iroh already told me about the political turmoil and uncertainty—it's already started. Do you really think the twins' lives are in danger?"
She startled herself with the choked laugh that escaped her. "I don't know what I think—not anymore. All I know is that Pakku, Dad, and Sokka were murdered right in front of me by someone who should have been, by all accounts according to Water's culture, part of the Family since he was of Water like we were. But he was Karnok the Deranged, legendary Chief in the North who united all the communities through terror and force, and he didn't care who we were or what we were—he still butchered Family just because he could. How many more men of Water are capable of being deranged? I never thought anyone of my race would murder children, but I watched Hama, before my eyes, slit her own throat, killing herself, with the goal of murdering her baby, who I only managed to save because the Ocean and Moon Spirits felt obligation to Ozai instead of the Family. Water's supposed to be one Family, but everything I've seen and learned reveals that Water doesn't value Family as much as I ever thought. Even the split of North and South reveals a deep fracture in our ethics. Maybe I do think the twins' lives are in danger—I'm not sure."
Suki placed a kind hand on here shoulder. "When was the last time you slept?"
"I don't sleep well without Zuko," she mumbled, eyes returning to Gran-gran's sleeping face; she felt a sudden envy that Gran-gran could sleep so peacefully and easily after hearing about all the horrors and desolation that had happened to their Family, whereas she couldn't sleep at all.
It was like her nightmares all over again after the Great War ended; every time she closed her eyes and rested her mind, those images swam to the forefront and haunted her with their vivid precision.
"You look awful," Suki whispered. "You need to take care of yourself; you can't run yourself ragged, Katara."
The skin around her eyes was dry and felt itchy after all the tears she had shed; it felt like the well was empty. "I know. Are you really going to stay here?"
Suki smiled sadly but resolutely; her eyes brightened in determination. "Someone must. I must fight for my children, Katara."
"They're my nephews," she said, hoping to appeal to her. "They're Zuko's nephews, too—he'd kill for them, I know it. So would I."
"But not your children," Suki retorted almost gently. "I know you love them, and I know you'd do anything for them, but you have your own children to worry about and raise in Yakone and the heirs you give Zuko. I want Kotoro and Tonuk to have what Sokka and I always dreamed about. I know it will be hard, but I'll secure power- "
"You will never be Chiefess," Katara interrupted, hating to repeat herself because it sounded so awful to crush Suki's hopes and dreams, which meant crushing Sokka's hopes and dreams—but she had to do it. "What's your plan?"
Suki looked unmoved. "I'll make a deal with whoever I need to. Kotoro and Tonuk will be protected—by me and whomever I connect with. If I have to remarry, I will. I'm willing to do anything to see our dream saved."
Katara cringed at the thought of Suki marrying another man but understood its possible necessity. "Sokka would kick his ass."
"I'll kick his ass if I have to," Suki said, but sudden grief ravished her face, and tears welled in her eyes. "I lost him. I'm going to forget everything he was over time—it's going to happen. In twenty years, when the twins are grown and ask me real questions about Sokka, I won't be able to answer because all I will remember is an idea."
She clasped Suki's hand, her own grief stirred by Suki's. "I know."
Suki's teary eyes peered into hers, almost desperate. "I have to stay here. Don't you see? The only way I'll ever feel close to him—the only way not to forget him as much as I otherwise will—is by staying here and fighting for the twins. I lost Sokka, but I won't lose his legacy; I won't let anyone steal Water's Chiefdoms from our boys."
Katara's smile felt more like a grimace, but she squeezed Suki's hand one last time and let go. "I know you'll do anything and everything you can. Just be careful. I saw what a man like Karnok's willing to do. A baby is nothing to him."
A baleful light ignited in Suki's gaze. "If there is a man like Karnok here, a baby—my babies—better be everything to him."
XxXxXxXxXxX
The North's restoration efforts were impressive; compared to when they had all left the North after Ozai and Vaatu's invasion, it was like a generation's difference, like the North had healed its appearance to its splendor prior to any conflict. The North looked exactly as healthy as his memory demanded it should look. Much progress had been made—but too much in the royal aspect as Onartok had clearly made himself into the de-facto Chief in the North. People in the city openly referred to Onartok as Chief Onartok instead of Regent Onartok as Aang had commanded after leaving the North previously with Azula, Zuko, and Katara. He thought he could trust Onartok to maintain power in Sokka's stead, but even without hearing about Sokka's death, it appeared that Onartok took immediate advantage to augment his own standing and change the nature of the arrangement Aang ordered.
It became more than clear upon meeting with Onartok to discusss the succession.
"Avatar Aang, how wonderful to see you," Onartok said, smiling at him in greeting from the North's icy throne, but it was glaringly noticeable that Onartok didn't bow to him, choosing irrationally to speak to him as an equal—when he was anything but. "And your wife looks as beautiful as ever."
Azula clearly tracked the same based on the sharp glare in her golden eyes, but she bowed perfectly with etiquette. "It is a pleasure, Regent Onartok."
Aang knew it was intentional and was grateful for Azula's thinking—and for Onartok's instinctive frown at his proper title before he resumed his practiced smile. "Dowager Fire Lady Ursa, I assume," he judged, staring at Ursa.
Ursa bowed. "Regent Onartok."
Again, Onartok frowned but smiled with a not-so-practiced ease. "And this must be your daughter, Samir," he continued, looking at Samir, who looked to simultaneously bask in the attention and be shy from it—or perhaps it was her memories in the North, where she was kidnapped by Ozai and Vaatu. Regardless, Aang had no intention of letting her out of his sight and knew Azula and Ursa were of the same mindset.
"It's nice to meet you, Regent Onartrok," Samir chirped, gray eyes innocent and unaware of the intentional slight; she was simply mimicking Azula's greeting.
While Ursa hid a smile, Azula looked never prouder of Samir as Onartok seethed silently on the North's throne. "Thank you for welcoming us," she said. "It is also a pleasure to meet your wife."
Aang glanced at Onartok's wife, an evident Waterbender who was pregnant, sitting at his side. "It's nice to meet you."
She inclined her head and rested her hands on her swollen stomach, which only reminded Aang of the child in Azula's womb—another Airbender! It had, unfortunately, taken more time at the Northern Temple to restore it of the imperfections sullying it from the group of refugees who assaulted it. And it was fun to show Samir and Azula every surface and edge of the temple since neither had ever been to the Northern Temple before—and it prepared Ursa for what it would be like to live at the Southern Temple. "Avatar Aang, Princess Azula, and Dowager Fire Lady Ursa."
"And me!" Samir added, looking insulted that she was forgotten about.
"And Princess Samir," Onartok's wife added in kind amusement.
"There is much to discuss," Aang intervened, staring at Onartok. "We bring news to the North—good and bad. The Greater War is over; Ozai and Vaatu are gone forever. Our purpose was a success, and there's victory, peace, and balance now."
Onartok's face gladdened with happiness and relief. "That is the best news, Avatar Aang. I'll order celebrations immediately."
"Not yet," he said. "Is it within your power to order such a thing?"
As expected, Onartok's eyes narrowed; all congeniality slipped beneath a calm mask. "I sit on this throne, which gives me the power."
"That throne belongs to one of Sokka's twins—both are sons and Waterbenders," he notified, watching carefully, remembering Zuko's advice—and his own suspicions.
Onartok's face expressed his displeasure at the news for a moment before it disappeared. "That is excellent news, Avatar Aang. I congratulate Sokka and his wife on this blessing. Truly, the Moon has blessed them."
Aang exhaled slowly, wondering if grief would ever get easier to deal with. "Sokka is dead; he was killed in the battle, along with Chief Hakoda."
"I was wondering because you said the throne belongs to one of his heirs instead of Sokka himself," Onartok said idly, looking not at all displeased by the news; he clearly tried to convey grief, but Aang knew grief better than anyone alive—he knew when someone was not feeling grief. No, Onartok felt joy but was trying not to show it.
Zuko was right about Onartok, and even more critically, Azula was right; she had warned him at the Northern Temple that Onartok would find relief and pleasure in Sokka's death—because it made him, in effect, the real Chief in the North, no longer a temporary placeholder. Sokka's death made Onartok's placement permanent.
Aang stared at Onartok hard. "Do I have your vow to hold the North's throne until one of Sokka's sons comes of age?"
Onartok's eyes narrowed; for possibly the first time, Aang saw the resemblance to Master Pakku, who had also died in the battle, which he had not mentioned yet. "No, you do not, Avatar Aang. That will be, at least, two decades, likely. The only type of vow I would make to anyone for that long of a duration is my wife and children."
Azula raised a brow but kept a hand on Samir, likely to keep her from running off to explore or something. "I commend you on the continuance of your lineage, and your child will undoubtedly be a strong Waterbender, but the child in your wife's womb is not the North's heir."
"The child is now," Onartok argued. "My people chose me to lead them during this chaos after Hahn's betrayal. I was willing to step aside for Sokka because I knew what kind of man he was, but I'm not willing to step aside for Sokka's son, who may be as weak as Hahn for all I know. I will not risk the North's future for a baby, Avatar Aang."
Aang shook his head, almost missing the simplicity of fighting a battle. "The North's future is not yours to decide- "
"It is now—I am the Chief with Sokka dead. If you think otherwise, send Sokka's son here now to press his claim and fight for it like a man. You have no right to interfere in this, Avatar Aang. It's clear this is nothing more than a charade to mask your blatant nepotism, hanging onto the memory of a dead man, however unfortunate his death was."
Aang's eyes darted to Onartok's wife's swollen stomach—she was probably five months pregnant—and stretched his sense and frowned when he sensed the child inside was a Waterbender, which would make Kotoro or Tonuk's claim all the harder to claim. For the first time, he doubted if Sokka's heirs could claim their inheritances peacefully—it wasn't a good feeling, especially since he mistakenly thought the challenging parts henceforth wouldn't be so challenging.
"I fight for my friend," he said slowly. "Air is all about friendship. You don't have the authority to claim your heir as the North's heir because only Sokka had the authority, and his authority, to his final breath, was that the North passes to one of his sons."
Onartok glared at him. "Sokka is dead, Avatar Aang. I'm sorry for your loss—I really am. But a dead man doesn't decide a nation's future. Do I not sit on the North's throne? Do I not make a Chief's decisions? Do others not perceive me as and call me Chief? Am I not the Chief? Tell me I'm not the Chief—lie to me."
"You are a temporary- "
"Temporary is a months-long," Onartok interrupted boldly. "Sokka's death ensures this is not months-long but decades-long. It makes me the Chief."
He was glad Azula was part of the discussion as she laughed suddenly; it appeared genuine, but Aang heard the subtle mockery lingering in it. "What makes you Chief is your desire, nothing more."
Onartok's face was like ice. "Is that not how your forefathers claimed their rules of power, Princess Azula?"
"Of course, it is," Azula agreed. "But you mistake Water for Fire—our races are not the same. All you must do is look at us and see the distinctions; then look at our cultures, values, traditions, beliefs, and ethics. Fire worships Power, and Power is synonymous with rule. What does a Water Chief, least of all a regent, know of Power? Chief Arnook put the North in a terrible position with his weakness and ineffective choices. However, Chief Arnook was Chief not simply by right but by blood; his lineage stretched back generations. You have no claim to the North's throne and are an imposter."
"I was chosen by my kinsmen," Onartok said slowly, an indication of how close his temper was. "That is how the first ever Chief was chosen."
Azula scoffed. "Power is never achieved by choice. It is achieved by will. Do you think Kai, who enforced our Unification, harnessed choice and let others speak for him? No, he understood Power—he spoke for himself and himself alone."
"What about Chin the Conqueror?" Ursa added. "What about Karnok the Deranged, who achieved something similar here in the North many, many centuries ago? There was no choice—only the will to seize."
"You spoke of the distinction between Water and Fire—this is it. We returned to the old ways, selecting a Chief from amongst the populace rather than one man seizing power, because there is no heir—we all know it. Sokka is dead- "
"But you did this before you knew about Sokka's death," Aang interrupted, narrowing his eyes. "Thus, it classifies as a seizure of power. There was no selection—there was you making the choice to try to undermine and circumvent the natural arrangement we had."
"This is all pointless because it is moot!" Onartok exclaimed. "Sokka is dead. I will never relinquish this throne—my throne—to a baby who understands nothing but gurgles!"
"Sokka and Chief Hakoda weren't the only ones to die," Aang said quietly, but his voice rang through the air. "Your father also died in the battle. I wanted to break it to you gently, but I didn't know how, and I certainly don't know how now. I'm sorry for your loss."
Onartok squeezed his eyes shut, chest rising at a greater speed, and his wife placed a hand on his arm in concern; there was a gentle heartbreak on her face, concern for her husband the only matter that mattered to her. When Onartok opened his eyes, there were tears inside. "Thank you for telling me, Avatar Aang. How did he die?"
Aang had never dared ask Katara for details on what happened; seeing Sokka's decapitated head was enough of a grim picture to have some semblance of an idea as to what happened to Pakku, Chief Hakoda, and Sokka. "Bravely," he said instead. "He fought to his final breath; he was a warrior, even in his older age."
Azula nodded. "He was consistent and stable; he never deviated."
He knew it wasn't the best time, but he pressed onward: "But your father support Sokka's claim to the throne- "
Onartok's eyes flashed. "He supported Sokka's claim, not his children."
"Prince Sokka's claim passed to his children," Ursa pointed out.
"His children are infants, Dowager Fire Lady Ursa," Onartok snapped. "Neither could rule for twenty years or more with any competency or wisdom. The only one who can rule the North and be accepted by the North right now is me. I'm the Chief, and I know for a fact that my father would agree with me if he weren't dead."
"You are not the Chief," Azula said boldly. "Seizing power before Sokka's death- "
"If—and I repeat if—I seized power, it was by the consent of my kinsmen," Onartok clarified. "They chose me to seize power; they wanted me to do it, and I guarantee they are proud and relieved about their decision since the alternative is now a baby."
Aang unfortunately began to foresee many problems with Water in the coming decades; it looked like there was going to be a lot of turmoil. He supposed it was all balancing out. Before the Great War, it was about Air's cultural problems; during the Great War, it was about Fire's cultural problems; after the Great War, it was about Earth's cultural problems; and now, after the Greater War, it was about Water's cultural problems.
Azula was not appeased while Aang felt the situation was hopeless. "This is a false rule, Regent Onartok, administered under disingenuous pretenses."
Onartok looked finished with the conversation, waving his hand. "Better than childish pretenses. We can resume this discussion in ten years' time."
"We will have to," Aang promised, resigned.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Gran-gran's health wasn't getting better—it was distressingly obvious. It was getting worse and worse, and nothing worked—nothing helped.
"Remember, Yakone, Gran-gran?" she asked, holding Yakone closer to Gran-gran, who was incapable of speech; she had not said a word since her collapse and seemed to barely recognize her. "This is Hama's son; he's your nephew, remember?"
As always, there was no response, and the clarity of observation pierced through her hope and desperation.
"You're dying," Katara whispered the obvious, swallowing as she adjusted her hold on Yakone and reached out for Gran-gran's hand. "It's the heartbreak, isn't it? I see the state you're in, and it's obvious. I can't heal you anymore. You're ready, aren't you?"
It was the same situation as when she remembered speaking with Aang after Azula's death when he was brutally honest in confessing that he was ready for Aang's time to be over, but unlike Aang, who shared the same bearing, Gran-gran's body reflected it, instead of only the eyes.
"Release, Gran-gran," she encouraged in whisper, watching. "You can see Dad, Mom, Sokka, Gramp-gramp, and Hama again. I'll look out for Yakone, Kotoro, Tonuk, and Suki."
Katara felt Gran-gran's heart give out but did nothing to heal her or try to preserve her. Gran-gran died—with the peaceful smile on her face.
"I'm so sorry, Katara," Suki whispered from behind her.
Katara wiped her tears and held Yakone closer, careful not to hurt him. "You'll see that she gets her last rites."
Suki nodded, solemn. "We all will, yes."
She hugged Suki briefly from the side, keeping Yakone from being squished. "I have to go," she gasped, voice breaking as she watched the last one of the home and Family she grew up with and cherished expire. "I can't stay here. There's too much death—too many memories."
"I understand," Suki said kindly. "Will you visit?"
"Every year," she promised, knowing she would never forgive herself if she didn't. "Zuko, Yakone, and me will visit every year."
She concluded her goodbyes to Suki and the twins, hugging and kissing all of them with the promise of visitation, and left as quickly as possible, unable to take in the sights of her home that could never be her home again—because her Family was destroyed. All she had left was Suki, Kotoro, and Tonuk, and though she wished to take them with her, she respected Suki's wishes and recognized Suki was best equipped to ensure Sokka's legacy instead of her—a wife knew a man better than his sister did, after all, for the sister would only ever know the boy, not the man the boy became.
It was a bitter lesson she had observed happening over time.
Iroh took care of ensuring the ship was prepared and manned appropriately. By the time she boarded, she dreamed of seeing the Fire Nation's volcanic islands instead of the South's glacial features; she wanted thoughts associated with a possible future instead of dying memories enabled by a dying home where no one she loved and grew up with remained. She had worked so hard after the Great War to revive its communal aspects while the terrors plaguing her nightmares haunted her, and she supported everyone and everything she could, offering something as simple and profound as help and healing to make the South a rising power in the world that would surpass the North's presence and legacy. Yet instead of seeing all the progress she helped her community make, she wanted to see the old South, the South of her childhood with scarce resources and even scarcer people, living in tiny huts instead of ice palaces and structures—because to see that old South meant her Family was still alive. It was a damning notification that the South was different, and its apparent difference registered as her Family's destruction—it was the only way she could look at the South now. Instead of seeing all the progress she helped make, all she could see now after all the horror and grief was the regression in her personal life when it came to that which mattered most to her—her Family.
She had lost everyone to ever matter to her in grueling ways. While she hadn't watched Mom's death at Yon Rha's hands, she had seen her scorched body afterwards, a haunting sight from which she would never recover. She once thought seeing Mom's corpse would be the worst sight of her life, but she was wrong—so terribly wrong!—because she saw Dad die right in front of her and watched, powerless, as Sokka, her brother, the foremost member of her Family from childhood, was decapitated. Then she watched Gran-gran expire in front of her, at least dying peacefully and naturally—but it was still horrible after all the death she had seen happen to her Family!
She was unsure the South would ever be a solace and comfort to her; the days when she and Sokka would run around having a snowball fight, penguin sledding, and making snowmen across the frozen tundra were gone. The only solution was to get away from the South, where the grief could not rip her to pieces that she could never salvage; instead, she would go back to the Fire Nation and live her life with Zuko as his Fire Lady, where she could retain those pieces she needed to retain without fear of losing them due to the grief.
In time, after leaving the South, already into the journey back to the Fire Nation, Yakone began fussing, an indication of his hunger—a recurring nightly feeding that she gave him. However, when she began the process to apply him to her breast to feed him, she froze as she realized that she forgot Iroh's herbal blend designed to induce her breasts to fill with milk—a blend she needed to keep feeding Yakone who was not her natural child but one she loved just as much.
"Iroh," she said urgently, running across the deck to him. "I'm sorry—I need to go back."
Iroh's bushy eyebrows furrowed in concern. "What is it?"
Katara wasn't afraid to convey her desperation. "The herbal blend. I forgot it in my old room. I need to go back and get it. I'll dry up before we get back to the Fire Nation without the blend, and Yakone will starve."
"I'll let the helmsman know to turn around- "
She shook her head and gently handed him Yakone, who had begun to cry his frustrations over being denied the satisfaction of her breast milk. "No, don't turn around—keep going. I'll jump off and speed back to the South with my waterbending. I need to do it now so it's the shortest trip to make. It shouldn't take me more than an hour to catch back up."
It would be tiring, but she would definitely be able to do it.
Iroh sighed but accepted Yakone, rocking him to soothe his cries. "I see I cannot stop you. Zuko married a woman of passion."
Katara allowed a small, brief smile. "You already knew that."
"So I did," he agreed.
She kissed Yakone's forehead and leaped off the ship, beginning her journey back to the South, dashing across the Ocean's surface, propelling herself forward with her waterbending. She pushed herself hard enough to make her surroundings difficult to track, but she knew her direction and where she was—and it was an excellent distraction from all the grief. Instead of focusing on the death of her Family, she was focused on the life of her newborn son in Yakone, who needed her breast milk to survive, which meant she needed the herbal blend to induce her body to supply it since she lacked a natural supply of breast milk as she didn't give birth to Yakone herself, and her body wouldn't recognize the necessity of producing breast milk without the herbal blend's inducement.
The Moon's light shone across the surface, providing a brilliant light to illuminate her journey, but she didn't like the Moon's light—not anymore, like she once did, not since the Moon Spirit proved herself a Family-destroyer by refusing to heal Sokka and Dad. But Katara kept going, begrudgingly and bitterly grateful for the light, pushing herself harder and faster to keep any of the drowning thoughts from seizing her and weighing her down, sinking her to the Ocean's depths, where she would really drown.
The Ocean stretched forever in every direction, but the number of icebergs and glaciers, pillars of the icy atmosphere, increased as she continued forward. Soon enough, she saw the South's outline in the distance, but once where she would have been gladdened to see such visible prosperity and growth, it only reminded her of everyone and everything she had lost. But she hastened her pace until she surged out of the Ocean and onto the frozen tundra, where she blitzed forward in a blizzard of her own making; the icy wind flared against her cheeks, biting with ferocity and reminder, threatening to drain her strength and leave her to die, buried under all the snow—never to be found, the very fates of traitors, murderers, and thieves.
While she wished for the Moon Spirit's death, she wasn't a murderess and swept the frigid air away by flinging the water back. She reached the city's entrance, but she traveled underneath, making a hole for her to fit through and, knowing exactly where she was underneath the city, despite the lightless snow and ice, she crawled out by the left corner of her old house. When she stood to her feet and stretched her arms to ease some of the strain that had built during her extensive waterbending, she saw two men walking away from Sokka and Suki's house—just Suki's house now since Sokka was dead—with their backs to her, postures and pace casual. Katara dimly recognized them as officials who had taken on authority since the news of Sokka and Dad's deaths, but she didn't remember their names—she had been too busy helping Suki with the twins, nurse Yakone and spend time with him, trying to heal Gran-gran all at once, and being forced to explain the events of everything that happened multiple times to everyone who asked. As a result, she never had a chance to have a satisfying conversation with those selected officials, too busy to do so. Suki had made more ventures than she had since she was technically the Chiefess, though it would never be official.
Katara ignored the officials, wanting to leave as soon as possible without alerting anyone of her return, and snuck into her own old house. As she was there, she grabbed several other souvenirs, such as family drawings that she hadn't thought to pack in her grief to leave as quickly as possible; she grabbed other trinkets and made her way to her room, where the desk was exactly where she left it, and on top sat the crucial box of herbal blend that Iroh gave her. She snatched the box from the desk and stuffed it into her parka with the scarce mementoes she grabbed, where it would be secure, and left her old house. But as she walked down the steps, feeling the chilly air bite into her with renewed vigor, she hesitated as she saw Suki's house right across from hers, almost as if it was waiting for her, expectant.
She decided to say goodbye to Suki one last time, possibly asking if she could grab something of Sokka's to take with her as a keepsake; she bounded up to Suki's icehouse, almost passing into countless memories when she had done the exact same thing, but she no longer lived in memories—she lived in a nightmare, where Sokka wouldn't be there to fling the door open and tell her not to eat any of his special seal jerky or she would never be welcome again.
Katara brushed aside the memories as she let herself in the house like it was any other day. "Suki?" she called out. "I'm sorry if I woke you."
The only sound she heard was the icy wind howling against the house's exterior.
"Suki?" Katara tried again, peeking her head into the many rooms on the bottom level, but while she found countless signs of occupancy, including what looked like a half-eaten meal at the table, she didn't find Suki herself—until she went upstairs.
When she entered the twins' room, she froze at the crumbled body, motionless—too motionless, just like Sokka's and Dad's had been!—but familiar from the hair to paler flesh. Her gaze was petrified in horror as she recognized the vast pool of blood beneath Suki's body for what it was—a lethal confirmation of Suki's fate, which was death. Suki was dead—just like Sokka and Dad. There was no evident weapon, but when Waterbenders lived in a realm of snow and ice, everything was weapon—likely, the ice had shifted into water to hide the evidence.
Katara choked on her spittle for several moments as she fell to her knees, uncaring that she slid in the blood as she cradled Suki against her, bowing her head against hers. "I shouldn't have left," she mumbled in betrayed disbelief; she followed the Moon's light splayed through the window to its source—and felt nothing but fury. "Is this all you do, Moon Spirit? Family-destroying is your passion!"
The worst part she registered was that Suki's body, while dead, was in its first stages of expiration; the blood itself, spilled in a butchering statement, was still fresh. Instantly, she recalled the two men she saw earlier and snarled, realizing they were the assassins. Near furious hysteria, she whipped her head towards Kotoro and Tonuk's shared crib, preparing herself for the grisly sight of two babies murdered in the crib, like Hama had tried to do to Yakone, but something fractured in numbing relief when the crib was empty with not a sign of blood or struggle in or on it.
Those officials she saw were not only Suki's assassins but Kotoro and Tonuk's kidnappers since their bodies were nowhere to be found. Had the South become so corrupt without Dad, Sokka, and the old generation's leadership that power-hungry monsters were willing to murder a new mother and steal her newborn babies? Had the South become so corrupt and disinclined toward Family that power-hungry monsters would take the literal first opportunity available to seize power by murdering Suki, the never-to-be-official Chiefess, the moment Katara, the only one lineally connected to Suki's husband besides his children, left the South? Was anything she loved about the South even real if the South was capable of such a thing?
The South really wasn't her home, capable of inflicting horror in equal measure to Yon Rha's horror in murdering Mom, but unlike Yon Rha, who did not commit the horrific deed in her presence, letting her run away to find Dad, Suki must have been murdered in the same room as Kotoro and Tonuk, and the only saving grace was that Kotoro and Tonuk were too young to remember it—but if they had been older, like Katara had been when Mom was killed, those officials would have murdered Suki in front of them, regardless.
What had the South become? Had the survivors of the Greater War, who only fought in the final battle and not any of the others like Katara and the Gaang did, been so overstressed and horrified by what they saw that they were willing to take such drastic measures as depriving infants from their mother? Or was it simply the nature of power-hungry monsters when real power, like generational power, was up for grabs? Was nothing off limits when real power was there for the taking?
Katara sniffed, throat working furiously to smother the sobs; instead, she let the fury and protectiveness fill her—she would avenge Suki and rescue her nephews! "I'm so sorry, Suki," she whispered as she laid Suki back to the ground, where her smooth, bloodless face glimmered under the Moon's light—because of the tears Katara had already spilled onto her face. "I'll get the twins—I'll save them. You tell Sokka I have them and neither of you need to worry. I'll get them—I swear."
She took off before she could waste any more time, unsure of how much exact time had passed since Suki's death—all she knew was it was recent. She took off through the city, retracing the steps she saw taken earlier, but the trail went cold quickly due to the powerful wind, which rustled the snow and made tracks indecipherable from one another—there were too many footsteps set in the snow in a familiar, well-used path to distinguish a single pair, or two pairs, as distinct.
She rode a wave of water and began ripping walls away to see who was inside each building before reshaping the structure just as quickly when she saw neither the officials or the twins; she caught bewildered and outraged gazes, but she paid no mind, working swiftly as she went from building to building and ascended her wave to look at the different levels, even rotating around the building on a funnel to perceive all angles before moving to the next. Katara ignored the various shouts of surprise and demands for explanation over her actions, the stunning chaos she unleashed; her eyes peered with analytical judgment to glimpse a sign of familiarity everywhere she looked, whether inside a building or outside a building.
Then when she ripped away a wall on the next structure, allowing a gust of icy wind to blow inside, she heard a baby's sharp cry, followed by another equally distressed shriek. She froze and watched two women try to hide two squirming bundles, muffling the obvious cries with their hands, but it was too late. The presence of the two officials in front of the women, shielding them, was confirmation enough.
Katara felt a lethal serenity cascade through her as she descended her wave and stalked into the house; she raised the wall back up, sealing them all inside—with her. She took one moment to glance hard at the bundles and recognized Suki's identifiable knitting work in the matching blue and green onesies—one was green with blue stripes and the other was blue with green strips, an exact harmonizing of Earth and Water as Kotoro and Tonuk embodied in their bodies, which embodied their blood.
She had taught Suki how to knit after marrying Sokka, welcoming her to the Family officially even though she had long been part of it unofficially—and Suki had knit Kotoro and Tonuk's onesies, something she had done to distract herself after everyone left the South to take part in the final battle, from which few returned.
The two babies were undoubtedly her nephews—she had found Suki's assassins and Kotoro and Tonuk's kidnappers.
Katara felt pitiless as she glimpsed the terror of the officials and their wives; she was cold to her heart—they were all Family-destroyers! "You have one chance to step away from them, or I will make you."
Kotoro and Tonuk's cries grew louder, and when the women hesitated, glancing at their husbands, Katara's nonexistent patience flared; she seized all their blood, ignored their screams of shock and horror, and contorted their limbs as she wished. She forced the women to walk forward unnaturally, limbs too straight and rigid, and distance themselves from Kotoro and Tonuk, who squirmed violently on a table, looking for their mother.
But Suki was dead, and Katara was now all her nephews had in the world—they were her Family, just like Zuko and Yakone.
"What are you doing?" one wife shrieked, face bloodless with horror and terror—Katara felt it with her bloodbending.
"Let us go!" one assassin shouted, voice sharp with warning.
Katara ignored both and rushed toward Kotoro and Tonuk, analyzing their bodies for any sign of a wound, but it was apparent that their distress was emotional, not physical. "Family-destroyers," she whispered, glancing back at the officials and their wives. "You murder my sister and steal her children—and for what? Political power?"
Eyes glared back at her, teeming with emotions she couldn't name—not that she particularly expended much effort to decipher. "Liberation. Your sister, foreigner that she was, intended to hold the South—and later the North—hostage all for the sake of two babies with mud in their veins. We need leadership, not vacancy!"
"You legitimize your actions as saving the South," she realized in disgust, wondering dimly how Zuko had predicted the fallout from Sokka and Dad's deaths with eerie accuracy. "You shed blood to save blood."
One of the wives lifted her head, remorseless. "The Moon Spirit agrees with our course."
Katara sneered, remembering the Moon Spirit's innate cruelty in letting Sokka and Dad die. "Anything the Moon Spirit agrees with is evil to the core! She's the Family-destroyer, and you are devoted followers to her sick creed!"
"We just lost countless warriors!" the other man snarled. "Now isn't the time for nepotism! No one wanted Sokka and Chief Hakoda to die, but these babies are the rightful heirs—they must be raised in our culture if they are to represent our culture as Chiefs!"
"Suki understood Water!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "She married Sokka and- "
"She was of Earth and would make her children muddy to match their blood. A Family is never a Family if it has outside influence. We will ensure the children are raised appropriately with no foreign influences."
Katara's eyes turned to slits. "No, you won't."
Immediately, she constricted her hands into fists, crushing their hearts—they all gasped simultaneously before she dropped their bodies to the ground.
She paid them no mind and focused on her nephews, looking down at the two bundles, who demanded her attention, love, and energy and relied on her for protection and safety—on top of Yakone, who was safe on the ship with Iroh. Thankfully, their cries had ceased, but they still squirmed to show their discomfort. "I have to care for all three of you," she whispered, grieved by Suki's death. She wanted to rage and throw all the ice and snow around her into a tsunami, but it would never help. All she could do was find solace in Suki reuniting with Sokka and vow to protect and raise their children—her own nephews. "I hope the Fire Nation accepts three Waterbenders running around in the palace."
Tonuk's face stretched in a gummy smile up at her, seemingly recognizing her, unaware of the tragedy—tragedies—that had happened to their shared Family.
"I know," she agreed softly as she adjusted her parka, twisting it around into firm knots as she placed Kotoro into her parka, which accepted Kotoro's weight; her nephew stared up at her, blue eyes matching her parka. "It's only for a little while, and then I'll switch you with your brother," Katara soothed as she hefted Tonuk into her arms, realizing the commitment she was making, almost feeling delirious under the impact of everything that had happened—all so much so quickly. "I'm now a mother to three. I'm going to have to breastfeed all of you—or find a woman in the Caldera to help. Zuko told me about wet nurses."
Kotoro and Tonuk both gurgled at her, drool seeping past their lips, but one clapped his hands while the other's face puckered in displeasure.
Katara realized how much the displeasure looked like Sokka's grumpy face and kissed his displeasure away in effort to force her own grief away. "Come on."
She set off, never once looking back—the South wasn't her home anymore.
XxXxXxXxXxX
"You will release him."
Tui sneered at him. "He killed me, and you demand his release? What kind of balance is that?"
Aang sighed, staring down at Zhao, who was imprisoned in the innovative prison made by Tui and La for his reckless, thoughtless crime. Zhao's golden eyes were raw and desperate; he looked like he coveted death and spent every moment of his worthless existence praying for it. "Your immortality is yours again—I gave it to you."
"You are who took it away," La muttered viciously, glaring at him with the Ocean's black discontent. "We spent eons trapped in those mortal forms- "
"You made the choice- "
"Because of your influence!"
He closed his eyes, knowing the only reason Tui and La didn't attack was their assured destruction. "You will release Zhao," he ordered. "Or must I release him? This is the time to forgive. I forgave Sozin, who took so much more from me than Zhao ever took from you. Forgive him, Tui; forgive him, La. I forgave you for healing Ozai's injury; I forgave you for allying with Ozai and Vaatu; and I forgave you for not healing Sokka, my friend, when you could have easily. Forgive Zhao as I forgave you."
"You lost your race while I lost my life, which should be immortal but you ensured was mortal when you deceived us," Tui hissed. "You promised to restore us to our rightful, natural eminence once our Children's numbers were replenished, but you never did. You deprived us of our immortality for eons."
Aang knew what they referred to—Kirku's premature death, which ensured his successor never knew of Kirku's oath to restore Tui and La to their immortality, or if his predecessor had known, he had not cared to. "Kirku died before he could. I don't know why Bahan chose not to restore you—maybe he didn't know."
"It is still your fault," La condemned.
"Which I corrected," Aang defended. "I restored to you your immortalities. I'm sorry it took so long- "
"It took the Face Stealer to force you- "
"It was always the plan," he vowed. "I couldn't do it with the Greater War still going on because I knew you would ally with Vaatu and Ozai, which you did the first chance you had."
Neither Tui nor La looked apologetic. "Ozai should have won. You are not worthy of your victory."
Aang stared back, spreading his arms in resignation. "I hoped we could come to an understanding; I hoped forgiveness was possible."
"Only when you suffer in a similar way is forgiveness possible."
"I did suffer like you did," he countered. "I suffered longer than you ever did. In every lifetime I lived, I suffered—each was different, which increased and enhanced the suffering over time. I lost wives and children in all my lives; I lost friends; I lost memories; I lost names; and I lost faces. I suffered as I watched everyone and everything I loved die while I was trapped in a near-invincible body. And in those lifetimes I died prematurely, like Roku, it was dying in failure, suffering to the final moment before I was reborn in another woman's womb, knowing that those I loved would suffer without me, which made me suffer even more. This happened for thirty-seven lifetimes across the span of over 9,100 years, and I carried all the suffering with me across my lifetimes, deep down—I felt it, like an ocean whose depths get colder and deeper with every moment, which I'm sure you appreciate. But on top of all the mortal suffering, there was also immortal suffering because I was incomplete the whole time across those 9,100 years, imbalanced to the core of my spirit—more suffering because I was in agony and never knew why, though I always felt it. Those 9,100 years, each more complex and evolving than the stagnation and stationary situation you were in, surpassed the 7,200 years you suffered in isolation, where you had each other, the one you loved more than anyone, and never had to watch the suffering of others and those you loved—except the one time when Zhao killed Tui. But that was one time, whereas I watched thousands of times, including in this life where I watched my race die and the later friends I made. Believe me, Tui and La, I have suffered enough to repay my debt to you hundreds of times over."
Even Zhao had seemed to stop his wishful begging for death and stared at him, eyes no longer dazed but aware—with the truth. Tui and La were silent, each ruminating on what he said, but he felt hopeful that he pierced through their resentment.
He knew resentment better than anyone, after all.
"Have you ever lost your sister?" La whispered, voice a frothing wave crashing against the sand. "Have you ever watched her be annihilated in front of you, powerless to stop it or save her?"
Aang no longer possessed the memories of his predecessors, but he knew the answer. "Not a sister of blood, but a sister of spirit, yes. Old age took everyone I've ever loved and evaded me until not even my great-great grandchildren knew my name."
Tui's bright light dimmed slightly, though she retained her innate radiance. "Has an enemy ever threatened your existence completely and promised you annihilation—and worked to secure it?"
"Vaatu and Ozai," he responded. "And all of you who allied with them. You fought with me everything you possessed; you were desperate and determined to annihilate me; you burned with lust for it. I know the feeling."
"You have never known the feeling of an enemy holding your fate in his hands," Tui retorted, voice faint. "You have never known the feeling of vulnerability."
"I have been reborn as a baby thirty-eight times now—I know vulnerability."
"But your vulnerability was a façade to hide the divinity dwelling within you, always there and present, waiting to awaken at the moment danger threatened you. You have never been in real danger in your life across your 9,100-year existence—always divine with your divinity right there to protect you. But our divinity, which should have naturally dwelled within us, was taken from us. Yes, we forfeited it of our own willing, but you betrayed your oath and damned us to vulnerability for eons. You have never once known vulnerability like that."
Aang sighed. "I suppose I haven't, no. I'm sorry that I betrayed my oath. I know why you don't trust me, but maybe one day decades from now, you'll be able to."
La frowned, water rotating around him faster in aggravation. "Yet you still demand we release this murderer."
He refused to back down. "Yes. You hate not that he did it but that I made the situation possible in the first place. Release him."
"We imprison him because we can never imprison you," Tui said sharply. "What penance can you ever pay?"
"I paid penance, Tui," Aang reminded. "You want Zhao to suffer, but I've suffered more than he can fathom; I've suffered more than you and your brother can ever fathom—because I have lived a human's life, no matter how extraordinary, for the past 9,100 years. You knew mortality, yes, but you never knew humanity—I do. I suffered—I suffer still. My destiny is to suffer. The penance is more than paid. Release him."
Nothing happened for several tense moments until the ocean's waters receded from Zhao, who gasped in relief as he convulsed in the sand for breath. Aang walked over and stood over him, allowing him to catch reorient his senses after the torture.
Zhao blinked up at him in a daze, gratefulness filling his face. "The god saves his victim."
"And kills him himself," Aang replied and snapped Zhao's neck with a lash of water, sending him to the Gardens of the Dead, where he belonged; he turned to Tui and La. "Eternal Balance is all that matters. Do you agree?"
Although La looked bitter, he nodded, begrudging. "Yes."
"We do," Tui added.
Aang nodded. "Good. Maybe there won't be so much suffering now."
XxXxXxXxXxX
The North was beautiful, something she had never had a chance to register during the Greater War, but there was a pristine majesty in its icy walls and frozen tundra, which expanded like the Ocean itself. It was unlike any place she had been in her life in the Fire Nation or in the Earth Kingdoms. Even when she stayed at the South during the Greater War's twilight, preparing for the final battle, she never paid much attention to the periphery of her surroundings.
Now she had the time—or lack of distraction to distract her—to appreciate it.
Aang had left to deal with Tui and La, leaving her with Samir and Mother to tour the North and its evident many restorations. While there was a small part of her that recalled Father and Vaatu kidnapping Samir and Mother the last time she was at the North, that small part of her became smaller and smaller the more she walked around with Samir and Mother and saw the North's beauty—and obvious lack of danger.
"Mommy, do you have twins like Suki?" Samir asked, staring hard at her stomach like she could see inside for the truth.
Samir had taken the news of Azula's pregnancy exceptionally well and was excited for the baby to arrive, but Azula had never quite expected all the questions, which were asked often and seemingly without any connection—it was only intensified because Mother was pregnant, as well. For whatever reason, Samir had never been as inquisitive about Suki's pregnancy. "Toph will have to say when we visit her."
"I feel sad about Suki and her babies. Why'd Sokka have to die?"
Azula sighed, but she was unsurprised because Samir had taken Sokka's death very hard; she had nightmares and carried the grief of it in every action she did. While she did not remember what the Face Stealer did, she remembered Sokka's death and its impact. "Because he was human."
"Grandpa died, too," Samir whispered, darting a hesitant look at Mother, who remained composed.
"He did," Mother agreed diplomatically.
"Did he know about your baby, Grandma?"
"He did."
Azula had no idea how Father could have known about Mother's pregnancy upon his death, but Samir accepted the admission with only a blink. "Do you miss him?"
Mother's smile was soft but pained. "Yes, but I let him go."
"I don't miss him," Samir blurted out, eyes widened, like she wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.
"I do not expect you to," Mother consoled, rubbing a hand through Samir's hair.
Azula remembered how that hand felt in her own hair when she was younger and found the absurd urge to feel it again. "You never have to speak of him if you do not want to, Samir."
Samir looked at her with big gray eyes. "Did Grandpa know about your baby, Mommy?"
"No, he did not. You were the first one I ever told after your father and grandmother."
Samir perked up, seemingly taking pride in the trust placed in her. "Really?"
"Indeed. You will have many siblings."
"But only one this time?" Samir challenged, pressing her hands boldly to Azula's stomach, which began showing its natural swell to accommodate the child. In comparison, there was no hiding the fact that Mother was pregnant, even with bigger robes—because the bigger robes were a declaration of the truth in and of itself.
Azula hoped so after seeing the agony Suki experienced giving birth to her twins in the South. Twins would be acceptable later on after she understood what she was in for. Having twins for the first time would be difficult. "Toph will have to confirm."
Samir placed her other hand to Azula's stomach and patted in a rhythm, a gesture of welcome to her months-away sibling. "I miss everybody."
"I know."
"I miss Sokka."
"I know."
"Do you think Uncle Zuzu misses me?"
She suspected that Zuko was too busy to even miss Katara on her trip to the South but nodded in assurance. "Of course. You are his favorite."
Samir's usual bright grin was subdued, likely from the thoughts of Sokka and death—and Father. "He's my favorite, too."
"Your favorite uncle, you mean."
"Uh-huh. I wish Grandpa was like Uncle Zuzu."
Mother looked away in pain while Azula almost snorted in amusement—it was possibly the only time in her life when she had heard that Father and Zuko were not alike. "Besides physically, you mean."
Samir nodded. "Uh-huh. Uncle Zuzu's nice, but Grandpa was mean. I'm glad he's dead."
Mother flinched, saying nothing. Azula would never dare mention to Samir that, technically, Father was alive evermore inside Aang, reborn for Eternal Balance between Light and Darkness. "As am I," she admitted, shooting an apologetic look at Mother, but she did not regret her honesty. "He was cruel. It grieves me you saw his cruelty and understood it."
Samir peered up at her with a familiar boldness. "Do you miss Grandpa?"
She inhaled slowly, surprised by the question but not sure why. "I miss the idea of him," she said after several moments. "There was once a time when our family was healthy—we were a real family then until we collapsed. I miss those days, and I know your Uncle Zuzu and grandmother do, as well."
Mother nodded; there was a visible mist in her eyes. "I am grateful for what we had. They were the great times of my life. We were a family."
"Will you, me, Grandma, and Daddy always be a family?" Samir asked, desperation rising in her voice, revealed in her vivid gray eyes. "Is the same thing gonna happen to us?"
"Never," Azula vowed with fierce passion, crouching so she was eye-level with Samir, locking their gazes. "I swear to you our family will never break like mine did. Okay?"
Samir swallowed but looked reassured. "Okay."
"Indeed," Mother agreed, smiling a convincing look at Samir.
She smirked and bumped Samir with her elbow. "Besides, I would shoot lightning at your father if he ever did what my father did."
As expected, Samir giggled at the seeming 'absurdity,' not realizing that Azula was deadly serious; it was a relief to know that Samir knew nothing of her capabilities and past deeds—for now. "Mommy, you're so silly! Is the baby making you silly?"
Azula laughed and stood to her feet. "A reasonable assumption. Let us say you are right."
Samir patted Azula's stomach, and there was a childish, protective glare on her face. "Stop making Mommy so silly, Baby. Mommy's supposed to be fun, not silly."
However, Azula would not mind more silliness—more mischief, specifically—in her life after all the severity and seriousness.
It was a good thing she was Mother of Air, a title that required both fun and mischief—and glory.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Aang was pleased by the developments he saw across the continent after returning from the North. There was no sign of chaos or destabilization; there seemed to be an eager readiness in the air as all the survivors were more than willing to stop the nonsense of war and start rebuilding their societies and cultures. He was going everywhere, from Major City to Major City, province to province, village to village, town to town, and discussing the situation with survivors, notifying them they had nothing to fear; they only needed to rebuild, and no one, least of all him, would stop their rebuilding efforts. Azula, Samir, and Ursa accompanied him from location to location across the continent, ensuring the rebuilding strategies implemented were healthy and going according to plan. Unlike after the Great War, when he assumed everyone, such as Kuei, would have best interests in mind, he elected to be more proactive and make sure that best interests were remembered—he had his fingers in everything he could, wanting the effects of the Greater War to be washed away by all the restoration.
It would be a long road, but the road's foundation was already being laid and set.
"Hi, Toph!" Samir screamed in jubilation as Appa landed in Omashu; she dashed off and slammed into Toph for a big hug. "I missed you!"
Toph patted Samir's head, but the smile on her face much softer than her usual sharp one. "I missed you, too, Hitchhiker. It's good to feel you."
"Where's your crown?" Samir asked, scrunching her eyes as she looked up at Toph. "I don't see it. Mommy says princesses have crowns, but you're a queen, and queens are higher than princesses."
"You really think I should have one?"
"Uh-huh!"
Toph clapped her hands. "How about I get some metal, and you tell me how to shape it, and that will be my crown?"
Samir's eyes bulged from their sockets before she beamed and nodded her head vigorously. "Uh-huh! Yes!"
"You know, that's definitely an Airbender in there," Toph greeted when she first sensed Azula, much more visibly pregnant than the invisible pregnancy previously, hop off Appa. "That heartbeat is stronger than Twinkletoes and Hitchhiker's!"
Azula smirked and accepted Toph's punch to her arm before returning the physical gesture of affection. "Twins?"
"No, only one."
Aang didn't fail to see the flash of relief cross Azula's face, but she quickly glanced at him with a raised brow, challenging. "Only one, Avatar? What were you saying about Eternal Balance?"
He rolled his eyes but smiled, unable to help himself; seeing the visible evidence of his race's revival in Azula's swollen stomach was a joyful sight. "I already told you there was one, not two."
"I hear an evasive strategy, Airbender."
"Maybe next time my seed will be more 'efficient,'" he relented. "How about instead of two, I do three?"
At Azula's sudden glare, he almost regretted the quip, but he felt too much happiness even at the thought of three of his children that it felt impossible to smother. "If you make such jokes, I will make your two one."
Aang shook his head at her subtle allusion to castration. "What was that about Eternal Balance, Azula?"
Azula waved a hand, though the amusement on her face was most evident. "Forgive my folly, Avatar. Shall we blame it on a food craving?"
"Only if it's for fruit pies."
Samir gasped in delight, suddenly tugging on Toph's hand. "Toph! Are there any fruit pies? Can we? Please? Grandma, you have to try fruit pies! It's the best!"
Ursa, who moved around more gingerly than Azula, laughed as Toph groaned. "Come on—Bor's waiting. Maybe Twinkletoes can fly around for the ingredients to fruit pies, Hitchhiker."
Upon reaching the throne room, Bor, who had been stuck in a meeting with advisors, met them with enthusiasm and began showing them, with Toph's help, the upgrades made to Omashu and how the politics were shaping in the Earth Kingdoms in a more concentrated way. Under Toph's advisement, Bor had implemented a series of agents posted across the provinces to keep track and report to him on how the rebuilding efforts were going. Headway was made to restore order and belief by the people in the Earth Kings again—or a single Earth King, rather—by showing honesty and diligence in rebuilding, taking into account the necessities of those who had suffered most. Earth's economy was in pieces—all economies were in pieces—but Bor began the long process of raising it from its collapse, creating opportunities through the rebuilding efforts to employ all those who once basked in their natural aggression and reorienting their energies towards health and order instead of riotousness, desperation, and fear. Cleaning house of the imposters who arose to attempt to lead Earth was a quick affair with Bor finding all former advisors and military personnel across the continent and offering them refuge and positions of reputation to reclaim their former lives—if only they helped him rebuild Earth from its crumbled state. There were several small rebellions during the initial chaos, but each one fizzled out as Bor proved his goal was to rebuild instead of continuing the chaos and death, which everyone was sick of with a hateful passion.
Unlike another 'king,' apparently.
"Zaofu is a mess," Toph notified after Samir went to bed, allowing them to discuss subjects more freely. "Like, a badgermole-got-the-runs mess."
Aang frowned. "I never heard anything when- "
Bor shook his head. "You wouldn't. Tornor was killed when the Butcher invaded Zaofu and sacked it, absorbing many men into his army and greater 'family.' All of Tornor's direct line was wiped out, but there's a distant cousin of his through his mother's side of the family that has claimed the throne. We can tell he's going to make an attempt to claim the whole continent for himself, and he's trying to fortify Zaofu and raise an army out of the wreckage. He even knows about Jin and is trying to marry her to put himself on equal standing with me; I have Ba Sing Se and Omashu, and he would have Zaofu and Chyung."
Azula's brow rose. "Yet this cousin has no true, legitimate royal claim—he carries the wrong blood. He can never hold Zaofu because of it. Blood is the beginning of power—it is the only legitimizing force."
"He lacks legitimacy," Ursa concluded, nodding as if the conversation was settled.
Toph shrugged. "But he had the guts to claim the throne, regardless—it's impressive, if not legitimizing."
Aang sighed. "If not worrying, you mean. We need to keep an eye on it. Have you reached out to him?"
"He's open to negotiation," Bor supplied, nodding. "He knows his position is tenuous at best and treasonous at worst. He wants my blessing and support and is willing to give a lot to get it—he made it clear. But we still know that he wants the whole continent—the spies are clear on it."
Toph snorted. "He's a suck-up who's going to stab us in the back the moment he gets the chance—just like Kuei. He actually offered Bor his firstborn daughter to marry even though he's married to me. Can you believe that?"
Azula smirked. "It sounds like Zuko's situation before Father escaped. He was offered women constantly. It is too bad he only embraced his whores for so long and not those women. We could have used a good scandal when Zuko inevitably fumbled the intricacies of juggling so many women as his Fire Lady and Court Concubines—it might have even distracted Spineless Kuei from his spinelessness."
Ursa's expression was sour at the mention of Kuei. "Nothing would have distracted him."
Aang was equally pessimistic. "Or provoked him sooner, thinking the distraction was universally felt."
"I declined the offer," Bor clarified like it wasn't already obvious. "Not least because she's not even born yet."
"That is ambitious, even for Fire's standards," Azula admitted, brows rising briefly in assessment. "Is he married?"
"His wife was killed during the Butcher's invasion. He's looking to marry as soon as possible to secure his stolen throne, which is why he wants to marry Jin."
"Because, in effect, it would not only give him Zaofu but Chyung," Ursa said, almost needlessly.
Toph sighed. "Jin thinks we should just take Zaofu now while things are still being rearranged and rebuilt. She says it would extinguish whatever threat he represents now, nipping the problem in the bud as quickly as possible."
Azula glanced at Toph, eyes narrowed. "The Queen of Chyung is here?"
Toph rolled her eyes in exaggeration. "Don't break your water there, Lightning Psycho. I know what Jin did—or what she didn't do—to Twinkletoes. She told us. She won't do anything."
"Not that she could," Azula muttered with a vicious bitterness.
Aang forced a smile. "Why is she here? And where is she?"
"She's in the guest wing of the palace—she didn't think it was a good idea to meet you."
Azula's face was frigid. "Indeed."
"She came back to stay with us because she was afraid she would be kidnapped and forced to marry the son of a bitch," Toph said, shrugging lightly, though there was a tight force around her eyes. "Not that I can blame her. She's a sitting platypus bear egg there in Chyung, which is close enough to Zaofu for an incursion to kidnap her, and I doubt people in Chyung would line up to defend her or something. She said she didn't have any other choice."
"This would be her only viable solution," Ursa judged.
Bor nodded. "It is more likely that Chyung would rally behind the possibility of a new king who has the backing of the rebuilding Zaofu with him. Jin's claim is a real one but a weak one while his is a false one but a strong one. Strength is what often wins."
"A lesson relearned across all generations," Azula agreed.
Toph played with a metal shard in her hands, warping it every so often. "She said we need to set up her official vassalage to Bor by doing a mock invasion where she agrees publicly before all of Chyung's capital to become Bor's vassal."
Aang closed his eyes, wondering what consequences would arise from such a decision. "That would make you the three-quartered King of Earth, missing only Zaofu."
"He won't be able to hold Zaofu long, not if we act quickly," Bor replied. "We do this for peace; we do this to end bloodshed, which he wants to continue or redirect."
"And once you beat him, you will take over Zaofu, as well," he assumed. "I will accept it only if the peoples on the continent accept it. If you are embraced as King of Earth, I will embrace you as King of Earth."
Bor smiled slightly. "That's all I ask."
There were many things to do, including resuming Samir's airbending training, which had been stalled ever since she was kidnapped by Ozai and Vaatu, which only reminded him of Ty Lee's family—and Samir's lineal family—in the Fire Nation in which he would meet fellow half-spawns with Air's presence within them, but Aang found himself standing in front of Jin's room. He had already decided to venture across the Divide himself to notify those who were lost that they needed to worry about nothing, but just maybe, he needed to bring someone else with him—maybe it was the only way to ensure balance on the continent during all the political turmoil.
Jin stared up at him in wariness and suspicion when she opened the door. "Avatar."
He smiled kindly to put her at ease, but it was obvious that his smile only increased her paranoia. "It's just me. Azula's with Samir and Ursa; she doesn't even know I'm here."
"I would appreciate it if you were not so cavalier with my life," Jin snapped.
"What are you talking about?"
"Your wife vowed my slaughter should I ever be alone with you again- "
Aang knew he shouldn't laugh, but he couldn't help it—because that sounded just like Azula. "I vow your preservation. I wanted to talk to you—offer you something, if you can believe it."
Jin's eyes narrowed as she angled herself against her doorframe, clearly an instinct to keep him out. "What is it? What do you want?"
"Who did you lose in Ba Sing Se?" he asked, daring challenge her. "Who did I kill?"
Her narrowed eyes flashed with ire and haunting memories. "Millions."
"Whom nearest to your heart did I kill?" he clarified, feeling heavy by the reminder of his great crime.
Jin's face spasmed. "No one."
Aang frowned. "I know I did something that impacted you in Ba Sing Se. Someone died- "
"Before you murdered Ba Sing Se I was pregnant, and after you did, I no longer was."
He bowed his head, closing his eyes for several moments—if such a thing happened to Azula with his newest Airbender, he feared his reaction, which could possibly be worse than what he did to Ba Sing Se in the first place if he was in such grief. "You lost your baby—the stress, right?"
"It was always destined," Jin said, hollow. "My womb is polluted; it has killed all my babies before they could ever open their eyes."
"I'm not going to apologize," he whispered, "because I know how meaningless it would be to you. But I want to take you somewhere—I was already going to go, but I think you should come, too. It may be good for you. I planned to go alone, not even with Azula, but I'm asking you to come with me. Do you trust me?"
"No," she answered instantly like it was a universal, undying, undoubted fact.
"But I trust you," Aang retorted, clearly surprising her based on her stunned expression. "It's a surface-level trust, but it's a start. I'm asking you to bridge that trust with me. You're going to be Queen of Chyung—or rather, Chyung's vassal for Bor. But either way, I've had enough trouble with the Earth Kings; there has been enough problems with the Earth Kings for the past 150 years. I don't want trouble with an Earth Queen, even if a vassal."
Jin looked uncomfortable, arms wrapped around her stomach. "I think Queen Toph will have that handled."
Aang's lips stretched in a smile. "Yeah, she will. Will you come with me, Jin?"
She was silent for a long time, distrustful eyes roaming his face, and he let her see everything she needed to see. "Where?"
"A place of legend—a place everyone knows or will know. It's the Gardens of the Dead."
Her eyes widened, and she seemed to stop breathing; he sensed it with his airbending—before her chest quickened its pace. She was more affected than she tried to let on. "The Gardens of the Dead?"
"I cannot bring any of them back, and even if I could, I would not, but I can give you a chance."
"A chance?" she whispered, blinking rapidly as she processed his offer.
Aang hoped she accepted it; he knew better than anyone how powerful a single chance could be. "Closure. There was a time when I got closure that I never thought I would get. I can give you something similar."
"Like what?"
"Seeing them one last time—all of them. Even those you didn't get to see."
Jin's eyes watered. "You mean my babies?"
Aang nodded. "And your husband—and Haru, if you want. They're all in the Gardens of the Dead, and I can take you there. Only once, though. Just for the chance of closure."
She wiped tears from her eyes, looking overwhelmed, but there burned a determination in her eyes that he had never seen before; for the first time, he saw who she might have been otherwise without all her grief—it was an experience he knew well. "Yes. Yes. Please."
"I'll need to force you into slumber," he warned, not wanting to betray her trust. "You'll have to trust me. Will you?"
Thankfully, she didn't look suspicious. "Why must I be unconscious?"
"Because you cannot meditate to enter the Immortal Realm, so I must bring you there myself. Before becoming Eternal Balance, I wouldn't have been able to do it, but I know now how Vaatu eluded my gaze for so long and how he was able to teleport everywhere. He used the holes in the Realms to hop between them, utilizing the Void of Eternity. I'll do the same with you, so you can come with me, but you must be unconscious. If you were awake, your mind would be obliterated by the experience. Do you trust me?"
Jin stared at his offered hand, and Aang didn't know what she would do. After several moments, she stared up at him, eyes roaming his face—for signs of deception, he knew. "Please take me there. Let me gaze upon my babies and let me hug my husband one last time and say the things I always wanted to."
Aang grasped her hand and induced slumber in her immediately before he stretched his power, perceiving the fabrics of the Realms, woven with one another—but not completely. Raava and Vaatu had made subtle errors—holes—that could be exploited to teleport, but only if possessing enough power and sense to perceive them.
He hauled Jin into his arms and stepped through the holes, passing through the endless Void of Eternity, which hailed him in welcome, recognizing him as kin rather than sin—because he was Eternal Balance now instead of Imbalance. He bowed graciously to the Light and Darkness he saw, acknowledging their sovereignty—and sovereignty inside him. Within moments, he found another hole and pulled himself and Jin into the Immortal Realm and summoned themselves to the expanse of the Gardens of the Dead—but this time, unlike all other times, he crossed the boundary.
The Races greeted him serenely, parting as he approached each section of the Gardens, powerfully aware of his race's colors in the distance, visible by their familiar robes, but he held firm until he was confident he was in the correct area for Jin. When he was satisfied, thinking he had found the area, he released Jin, setting her down, and roused her spirit, waking her from her induced slumber.
She blinked up at him before blanching as she looked around the Gardens of the Dead, clearly stunned by all the spirits she saw, all of whom paid them little mind—they were serene.
"This is really it?" she breathed, awed.
"Yes. You must find them," he encouraged. "This is the area, but you will find them. Once you find them, they will find you."
Jin stared up at him with desperate hope but nodded, swallowing. "How long do I have to find them?"
"As long as you need, but you can't stay here forever," he warned gently. "This is for closure. I know how hard it is, but its hardness is surpassed only by its fulfillment."
She took off in a swift pace, running most un-queen-like, and collided with many of the spirits, peering into their faces. Her cries of identification rang through the air, calling her husband's name constantly, as she traveled farther into the Gardens, and Aang let her go, knowing it was something she had to do herself, but he made sure to keep an eye on her in case she became overwhelmed—or maddened herself in her obvious desperation.
"About time I see this Hair Nomad again!"
His eyes widened in shock, and he whirled around in joy when he saw Bumi—Bumi!—again, despite the evident change in appearance where he was many years younger, in the prime of his life. "Bumi!"
Bumi's smile was crooked and genuine. "Aang- "
He cut him off by pulling him into a joyous hug, squeezing him tightly. "I was going to find you!"
"I thought I should find you for once in my life," Bumi quipped, pulling back, and Aang saw suddenly a multitude of spirits giving them privacy, but he knew who they were instantly based on the resemblance—and on the fact he saw Anju and Batsu amongst them. "Aang, these are all my children."
Aang bowed his head, caught in emotion. "You're with them again. I'm so happy for you, Bumi."
Bumi waved his children away and slung an arm around his shoulder. "I'm happy for you. You won, didn't you? You ended it?"
"The Greater War is over," he confirmed. "There's Eternal Balance again."
There was only contentment on Bumi's face—not a flicker of surprise. "I thought so. We all felt it when it happened. This was bigger than the Mortal Realm. It had just as much an effect on the Immortal Realm."
"I'm sorry you weren't there to see it won."
Bumi snorted. "I'm not. It was just like the end of the Great War where it can't feel like a victory because of all the death in the air. Anju and Batsu told me how they died."
Aang thought of how many had died, including Sokka, and agreed. "You're not going to understand, but it was my fault it all happened. But it's never going to happen again. I've taken the most extreme measures to ensure it—I've sacrificed to ensure it."
"Just make sure the sacrifice isn't your joy, Aang," Bumi advised with a lazy grin. "There hasn't been enough joy in the world for a long time. You can help bring it back by being joyful yourself."
"I'm going to be more joyful than I ever have," Aang assured, thinking about Azula's pregnancy—Air was revived! "The world will hear your name again."
Bumi cackled. "You got one of the poets to write a song about me, huh? I hope it rhymes. Those poems without rhymes are awful. They're to my ears what shit is to my tongue!"
He laughed, and he felt joy at hearing Bumi's laugh. "No, although I think Bor would do it for you. He could commission one of Omashu's poets. He could tell a story beyond any other centered around you."
Bumi shook his head. "That honor belongs to you, Aang. I'm not worthy of it."
Aang looked across the distance at Jin, who had fallen to her knees, surrounded by several infants crawling to her and a man that he could only assume were her dead children and husband. "I'm really not," he said, looking back at Bumi.
"Agree to disagree. If it's not a poet, what's my name doing being uttered by people who don't know me?"
He felt his spirits rise. "Azula is pregnant, and while we won't name the first after you, we will name our second after you."
Azula had been adamant that she wanted to name their firstborn after Gyatso, and Aang married her again instantly when she demanded it.
"A boy?"
"I saw it."
"Airbender?"
"Impossible to miss—Indra herself confirmed it."
A massive grin lit up Bumi's face. "I'm honored. But 'Bumi' is a Child of Earth's name."
Aang shook his head. "It's a worthy man's name. And he will be one of the worthy Heirs of Air."
Bumi cackled in joy. "Oh, the poets will love that! 'Heir of Air'—brilliant!"
"I wish you would see my children."
"I don't need to," Bumi assured. "I have my own children to catch up with. And you don't need me anymore—I don't think you ever did."
He sighed, thinking of all he accomplished after Bumi's death—it was more than he had ever accomplished before, no matter how wrongly to perceive. "Maybe."
"You have others to visit, don't you?" Bumi observed, face understanding as he smiled. "Go on—don't wait on me, Aang. I never waited on you to return, and you shouldn't wait on me to return. Live your life."
Aang hugged Bumi. "You're the craziest genius I've ever known."
Bumi pulled back and winked. "I was about to say the same to you."
He continued through the Gardens, keeping a subtle but permanent sense on Jin, but he was giving her as much privacy as he could; he wanted her to have everything she could. It did not take him long to find his next target, but when he saw who stood beside his next target, he choked in horror.
"Suki?" he gasped, staring at Suki—yes, it was Suki, clear as day!—huddled with Sokka, Hakoda, Kanna, a woman who could only be Kya, and several other generations of family members.
Suki's eyes stared at him inn surprise and relief. "Aang."
"I'm so sorry," Aang whispered, realizing what happened to Suki—she was killed somehow. He looked around to see if Kotoro and Tonuk were crawling around, but there was no sign of them. Kanna met his gaze and inclined her head in a warm welcome, laying her head against the arm of a man who bore a resemblance to Hakoda—or Hakoda bore a resemblance to him, as the man was clearly Hakoda's father, Chief Hada. But it was clear that Kanna died, as well, possibly from grief.
Suki saw his expression and looked frantic while Sokka had a more relaxed demeanor, but his face was possessed by a tightness that Aang had never seen before. "The twins. They were kidnapped—I was killed by two officials who wanted to raise the twins themselves. It happened the moment after Katara left to return to the Fire Nation. You have to find them—rescue them. Take them to Zuko. I should have accepted his offer. I thought the South was safer than it is."
Aang's fists clenched, angered over something else he failed to prevent—another friend died, and worst, left her children motherless after just losing their father and grandfather! Would he ever stop something from happening in his life? "Of course. I'll grab Zuko first and go. Seeing The Avatar and Fire Lord step foot in the South, furious, will deter any possible violence—not to mention whatever Katara will do."
It would also give Zuko a necessary chance to negotiate with whoever seized power in the South and ensure that Sokka's legacy would not be forgotten.
Sokka rubbed a hand over his face. "Go ahead and 'Ba Sing Se' whoever did it—whoever thinks it's okay to kidnap our children and murder their mother, my own wife."
Hakoda's eyes were chilling in their resolve. "These two men tarnished Family—you have my permission, as the last official Chief of the South, accepted by all, to destroy their families for what they did. They proved themselves traitors and kin-slayers—they deserve nothing less than dying in the cold, and there is no one colder than you, Aang. Make them feel your chill."
Aang grabbed Sokka and stared into his eyes, seeing the same energy inside. "I'm sorry you died."
Sokka's smile was melancholic. "Me too. I wanted to see my boys grow up; I wanted the opportunity to be with Suki in Family and make our Family grow. She shouldn't be here—she should be with them. Children need their mother, too."
Who he suspected to be Kya was confirmed when she squeezed her eyes shut in pain, and Hakoda pulled her against him in comfort, but Hakoda's eyes never left Aang's. "Yes, but we do the best with what we're given. Katara's going to raise the twins—she'd attack anyone who says otherwise."
"With a lecture," Sokka clarified, looking fond for the first time ever of Katara's lecturing habits.
"I'd prefer killing," Suki muttered, looking treasonous over her fate given to her by greedy schemers.
"When I leave the Gardens, the first thing I'll do is take Azula and Samir back to the Fire Nation to let Zuko know what happened—and Katara, if she already returned," Aang promised.
"Katara's going to have a hard time for a long time," Hakoda advised, voice softening. "You have experience with this, Aang. Please be there for her in any way you can."
Aang felt his face twist in discomfort. "It's different."
Hakoda's smile was warm but grieved. "It is," he agreed. "But you know what it's like. The levels are different, but you've been at Katara's level while she's never been at yours—no one's ever been at yours."
He looked at Kya and nodded. "I'll do everything I can to help her. She's my friend."
Sokka's lips twitched. "And Air's all about friendship."
Aang swallowed, realizing how good of a friend Sokka really was for remembering that fact about Air. "It is. You're my friend, Sokka—I'm sorry I failed you. Suki, I'm sorry I failed you, too. But I won't fail your sons. I'll see to their health and success. I've already spoken with Onartok about the North- "
"That polardog shit took it for himself already, didn't he?"
"He did," he confirmed. "But I've talked to Azula about it. We have a plan. We'll have to negotiate for the North for one of your sons. But the South seems a lot more dangerous."
Hakoda bowed his head in disappointment. "More dangerous than I ever thought."
"I'll make sure things are straightened out," Aang vowed. "It will take a long time, but I will do it—I will see to it. Imbalance is a curse, and I won't let imbalance flourish again."
Suki smiled, though there was an exhausted emotion on her face. "Thank you, Aang. We trust you."
"We do," Sokka added, frowning. "But you're not leaving now to take care of it and find the twins. Who else are you visiting besides us?"
Aang sighed. "One more."
"Then get to it," Sokka urged, actually grabbing him and beginning to walk him—escort him—to a new area. "The faster you take care of this, the faster you'll rescue the twins."
Aang pulled away from Sokka, memorizing his face, even determined in death. "You're my friend, Sokka—I hope you know that. I'm sorry there were times I doubted you and made you doubt it."
Sokka snorted and clapped him in the shoulder. "I doubted you plenty—I think that's what friends do. We proved to each other over and over again we're friends with our doubt."
"Thank you for your friendship, Sokka."
"Thank you for yours, Aang."
Knowing time was of the essence for Kotoro and Tonuk because of how time flowed in the Immortal Realm versus the Mortal Realm, he quickly moved to the next area, bypassing many other spirits in the crowds conglomerate everywhere.
Aang continued through the Gardens, heading for his last destination—the best for last. He felt giddy at the thought of seeing Gyatso again, especially since he was no longer the shameful man who sought out Gyatso in the past but a victorious man who triumphed over his obstacles—he was himself again, which Gyatso would appreciate. He stood taller as he began running through the Gardens, psyching himself up, preparing for the meeting that would stay with him the rest of his life. He visualized his memory of Gyatso, which lured him through the Gardens like a beacon, calling him.
He once swore that he would stop failing Air, failing their very memory, and he had finally succeeded—because Air's revival had started inside Azula, provoked by his seed. It was the beginning of glory again. Airbenders would be real Airbenders and use airbending with the proper forms, knowledge, and techniques. The Air Temples would brim with laughter and joy with Airbenders respecting the ancient structures and secrets and loving the lives they lived. Beaming children would run through the temple halls, faces red from exertion and gray eyes vigorous with fun and cheer. The Air Temples would never be attacked again, and airbending children would never run in fear again and die in terror again.
It would be a new age.
"Avatar!"
He froze in surprise but relaxed when he saw seven Airbenders running toward him, but the confusing part of their appearance was that they had no tattoos of mastery—and none were bald. Instead, they even seemed to be wearing Fire garbs in some places, though they wore the traditional Air garments.
"Yes?" he asked, searching their faces for a sign of memory, but while they were obviously of his race, he had never seen any of them before.
The leading man bowed to him but looked startled, eyes bulging. "What did you do to your tattoo of mastery?"
He felt great pleasure in hearing someone other than himself refer intelligently to his tattoo of mastery; he swept his hair to the side with his hand, giving a clearer vantage. "It's because I mastered combustion."
"Combustion? What art is that?"
"A subset of firebending," he explained. "Would you like me to demonstrate?"
When they all nodded, Aang floated into the air, ignored their awed gasps at his airbending prowess and stared directly upward into the heart of the Immortal Realm's sky. He felt his own inner flame thrash through his chi and quickly, the energy erupted out of his forehead from the mark, shooting up into the sky with detonations echoing terribly, the sky a red color for several moments as a shockwave of energy exploded through the heavens; the whoosh of air slammed back down towards him, but he merely waved it back, calming the out-of-control air. He floated back down and the Airbenders were in terrified amazement.
"Avatar, your power has been greatly falsified in the legends—you are much stronger."
Aang waved away all the other spirits who were staring at him, disturbed of their natural peace by his show of power. "I'm sorry—do I know you? You seem vaguely familiar to me."
They really did, but he could not put his finger on it.
"You finally returned," the leader said, smiling. "We always believed you would—we knew it. When we started dying off, we died within days of each other, unable to bear the burden that is yours—the Last Airbender."
Aang frowned, trying to keep up. "What are you talking about?"
"They are from Ty Lee's noble family," a familiar flat voice called out.
He whirled around and smiled as one spirit appeared out of the many around them. "Mai, it's good to see you."
Even in death, Mai's face didn't reveal much. "These are seven secret Airbenders who married into Ty Lee's noble family- "
Aang inhaled sharply and looked at the Airbenders in a new light. "It's you," he breathed. "You are why I have a race to return to."
"Yes," the leader confirmed, relaxing in relief; he looked joyful, matching the looks on the faces of the others. "Sozin spared us because, apparently, we looked similar to you."
He blinked and looked closer and realized that, indeed, they bore a vague resemblance to him; perhaps they were lineal cousins or second cousins of his or something. "But he knew you weren't me."
"Our lack of tattoos of mastery confirmed it. We were never masters. Yet he kept us alive, marrying us into one of Fire's noble families, a family that was heirless. Sozin vowed his wrath on us should we ever use our airbending again—his spies were always watching. He said that if any of us told anyone the truth of ourselves or used airbending, we would be powerless as Sozin would kill one of us, whoever betrayed our oath, keeping us all in line. Sozin thought he could lure you into a trap to save the last of our race."
Aang looked away, seeing Mai watching him carefully, but he ignored her. "But it never worked because I was gone. It was a set trap that was never sprung—it never culminated."
"But we knew you would return. Sozin always watched us, and in time, he realized we were of profound talents—literally unlike anyone else in the world because we were all that remained of our gifted race. We became Sozin's spies—and later Azulon's spies. Azulon never knew we were Airbenders as far as we know, but he likely had his suspicions. Our noble house became the Fire Lord's spy agency, and we secret Airbenders were his spies, forced to work for him. But because we weren't masters, we could never touch Sozin or attack him, even all at once. Survival was paramount—we did what we had to do. It wasn't until Azulon's tenth year as Fire Lord that we were released from service—he tired of the Great War. He told us openly that he sought its negotiated end, and we were retired and free to spend more time with our families."
Aang nodded slowly, digesting the information. "And your children? I found one of your great-granddaughters—or she found me, rather. I adopted her, and she's an Airbender."
"Good," the leader said, relieved. "We were afraid Air would die out- "
"It will be much harder now because of your many children," he interrupted. "Based on what I've gathered from your family, I'm not worried as much about Air's extinction because there are now more blood and lineages from which Air can be revived. Air's new race will be me, my wife, and your noble family mixed so often together across multiple generations that a new race, unique and separate from the others, will be created. I'm very aware of the irony—Sozin is the weapon by which why Air was murdered, but Sozin also provides Air's revival in my wife as the Mother of Air and logical candidates to wed for my children in your noble family, creating a new race."
"The thought occurred to us long ago, but it is surprising that you choose a woman of Sozin's blood as your wife."
Aang understood the severe judgment he heard—and felt. "She proved herself worthy of it. She loves Air and will do anything to see us revived. Now tell me about your children. I knew one of your granddaughters, Ty Lee. She died, but I felt her chi—it was wrong. It was stunted of any natural development. What did you do?"
The leader looked withered, saddened, and morose. "We had to all do it. All of our children were Airbenders, and all our grandchildren after them—and we made cousins breed with each other to preserve Air as long as possible since Air had a lasting significance. We chi-blocked our children every day and later our grandchildren, teaching them how to do it, introducing the skill to our family. But what they never suspected is that we chi-blocked them when they were young—too young to remember. We stunted their growth and ruined their chi flows. No one ever noticed or anything, but we had to sabotage them if they were going to live. We had to keep the secret if Air was going to survive. We had to smother their airbending. It was the hardest thing we ever did, but we did it so Air would have a chance."
He had begun to suspect it was something like that as for the reason why Ty Lee or anyone in her family never showed any signs of airbending while Samir was a clear Airbender. "Is it reversible?"
"We always discussed it. We think so, but it will take time. But you are The Avatar—you may be able to restore their natural airbending talents easily."
"I owe you everything," he whispered, overwhelmed, tears welling in his eyes as he realized how much these seven Airbenders had sacrificed just for their shared race to have a chance in the future.
The leader shook his head. "If you keep our race our race, as we tried to, and preserve them, all debts are paid."
"The evidence is clear based on your family. If an Airbender and Firebender produce children, the children are naturally more likely to be Airbenders than Firebenders because Air is more primary. Fire literally relies on Air for life and sustenance, which makes Air more primary and more powerful, which means that when it comes to the inheritance the children receive, the more primary one, the airbending connection, will take effect, beating out the other because it has deeper roots. I don't have to worry about my wife having few Airbenders; I will have a few Firebenders, but the vast majority will be Airbenders."
It was the greatest relief of his life, besides the Greater War ending.
"Thank you, Avatar- "
"Aang," he corrected instantly and pulled them all in for a hug, making sure to thank each one. "You all have to thank no one, least of all me. Do you understand? You need not thank anyone else for the rest of your existences. No one has done what you have. You made sure Eternal Balance is real and possible—made it achievable in the long-term. I do owe you everything."
The leader's smile was gentle but at peace. "Just let our children and grandchildren know of their inheritances—let them know the truth of themselves that we could never tell them."
"I will," Aang promised.
He said his goodbyes to the seven Airbenders, letting them enjoy their afterlives in peace after their lives were never peaceful, and anticipating with powerful eagerness when he would meet their other descendants beyond Samir and Ty Lee. Their sacrifice and achievements could never be understated. Air's revival had little to do with anything Aang had done but everything to do with what those seven Airbenders did. He could only imagine what their meetings and conversations with Sozin were like during the first years of the Great War and its later years when Sozin began to let Azulon take over the war effort, hindered by his imminent madness; he could only imagine what acts of service they were forced to perform for Sozin to prove their loyalty and test their talents; he could only imagine the stealth and espionage in which they played to be Sozin's secret spies; he could only imagine their many journeys across the Fire Nation to root out saboteurs, critics, and rebels, possibly even being the ones to stop Kuzon's attack that evaded Sozin but instead killed two of Sozin's children; he could only imagine their secret wanderings on the continent to supply Sozin with information no one else could provide; he could only imagine all the stress and worry they felt each and every day when they needed to guard their innermost selves, showing no one, not even their wives and children, whom they clearly came to love and adore, that they were Airbenders in possession of a marvelous inheritance from Heaven; he could only imagine the lies they told and misdirections they employed to guard the secret that could only damn them; he could only imagine how they spoke honestly with only each other and no one else, whispering strategies to each other to ensure Air's survival through their children; he could only imagine how they hoped and prayed with desperation for The Avatar's return to smite Sozin and free them from the bonds of the secret they carried with them, burdening them to their bones, weighing them down in such a way that was unlike Air Nomads; he could only imagine the grief they felt at living for decades upon decades without their race, knowing they were the only survivors of the Attack; he could only imagine their fury and horror over feeling indebted to Sozin for their very lives, which Sozin alone preserved and held over them in warning and promise should they ever step out of line and reveal the secret he forbid them to share; he could only imagine the powerlessness they felt when their children were born, never to know their renowned heritages; he could only imagine the pride and simultaneous relief when their children revealed they were Airbenders; he could only imagine the heartbreak, anguish, and desperation they felt when they intentionally chi-blocked their children so much that their chis were stunted of their natural development; and he could only imagine their bitterness in raising their children as non-benders instead of rightful Airbenders, depriving them of their gifts.
Aang loved those seven Air Nomads, who were truer Air Nomads than anyone on the High Council of Elders for many generations.
Except one Air Nomad.
"Hello, Aang," Gyatso greeted with a beaming smile when he found him in the Gardens.
Aang yanked him forward for a hug. "I did it," he gasped, embracing him tightly. "It's over—the Greater War is over. There's Eternal Balance again."
Gyatso laughed. "I knew you would do it!"
"I'm okay," he whispered, voice choked. "I'm okay. I never thought I would be, but I am. Air's coming back."
"It always will," Gyatso assured, gray eyes bright as he stared up at him. "I'm so proud of you for holding on and fighting—you had the will to fight, which our race lacked for so long."
Aang looked across the other Air Nomad spirits walking through the Gardens, dressed exactly as he remembered, and unlike any other time when he had imagined entering the Gardens, he felt peace about their situation. "I could have never done it without you—without your memory guiding me. Seeing you again changed my life—seeing you again is what saved the Realms and made Eternal Balance possible."
Gyatso winked. "So, the Tree knew what It was doing."
He laughed, recalling his previous vulgarities launched at the Tree in Gyatso's presence. "Yes, It really did. Everything worked out."
"It is What Is," Gyatso reminded. "And your friends helped you along the way."
Aang swallowed, knowing Air's ethic of Friendship. "I couldn't have done it without them. I lost some of them. But even though some are dead, they are still my friends."
"Friendship is real when not even death can smother it."
He nodded. "These friendships are real; they never won't be."
Gyatso smiled. "And Azula and Samir?"
"Alive," he confirmed in relief. "There were close calls, but they are alive and well. Azula is pregnant."
Gray eyes twinkled at him. "Is she?"
"Don't pretend you didn't see this coming!" he replied, laughing. "She wants to name our firstborn after you if a son, and naturally, I agreed with her. I think she almost thinks of you more as her father than Ozai."
Gyatso's lips pulled in a strange but delighted smile. "It was a pleasure to know her and speak with her when I did. You chose well. She is worthy of everything Air has to offer. You gave her a chance, for which I commend you. She is exceptional and wise, rivaling the legendary nuns across our history. There is no one better than her for the task you have set upon—the task she has set upon herself by embracing it. She loves Air—I saw it, heard it, and felt it. She understood our ethics and wisdom in a much greater abundance than everyone but a scarce few in our last generations and, most importantly, is willing to help you—help Air revive itself to its former glory, splendor, and radiance. In fact, she will supplant in Air a steadfast power that we always lacked, for she will be Mother to a new race, one that is not ugly and horrid but beautiful and lovely to behold. She is prepared and dedicated not only to you but Air—she looks to the future with determination, not doubt. She is ready for her task and engaged to uphold it for all her life, working with you for revival, regardless of the time and energy required of her, including many pregnancies as she bears you dozens of children across her life to populate Air's new race. She will raise your children with Air's wisdom and teach them to look inward, as Air teaches, for guidance and support. There is no Mother of Air but her, and everyone across the generations of ages henceforth will know her name, accomplishments, and sacrifices. She is the right choice, and I am as proud of her as I am of you."
Aang smiled back. "I'll tell her."
"She already knows," Gyatso assured in dismissal, amused. "Something tells me she will add to it."
"She will have Samir telling it to everyone," he agreed with a laugh. "I never thought I would have this—this peace. I speak to you now and feel no urgency or hatred; I feel glad."
Gyatso chuckled. "You are in alignment with What Is—you accept What Is. That is peace, remember?"
"I never thought I would have it."
"I always knew you would."
His throat felt tight as he swallowed, staring at Gyatso in desperation, hoping he conveyed exactly what he wanted to with accuracy. "There would be no Avatar without you; there would be no Eternal Balance without you—I mean that. I would have never won the Greater War without you. You were the crucial impact on my life that made me capable of victory."
Gyatso shook his head. "You had others- "
"I only had those others, was capable of having those others, because I had you first," Aang confessed with a raw intensity. "You made it all possible. Thank you, Gyatso. My words can never say enough. I hope you know that. You have to know that. I want you to know that."
Aang accepted Gyatso's hug and memorized the feeling. "Raising you, knowing you, and loving you was the greatest gift of my life, Aang. It only pleases me that I had as big an impact on you as you had on me. You changed my life for the better in every way."
"I let you go," he gasped, "but you're always going to be with me, even when you're here in the Gardens."
Gyatso looked proud. "Yes. That is what letting go means. I let you go, too, Aang. It's time for you to leave the Gardens and keep living with those who aren't in the Gardens."
He maintained the embrace for several longer moments before he backed away and bowed properly—a student to his master. "Thank you for everything, Gyatso. I love you."
"Thank you for everything, Aang. I love you, too."
By the time Aang returned to his starting position, he found Jin waiting for him, and her husband and children were nowhere to be seen; she sat in front of a tree, knees pulled to her chest, arms resting atop, and she stared into the distance with a relaxed, teary expression.
"Did it go well?" he asked gently, crouching next to her.
Her eyes, moist with grateful tears, darted to him; there was something looser in her face, like a permanent constriction, welcomed by grief, had been released of its burden. "Thank you, Avatar."
Aang recalled Gyatso's kindness and bowed his head. "I know peace is a hard thing, but maybe now it won't seem so hard."
She smiled through her tears. "Thryn named our children. I finally know their names and what they looked like, and I know they are okay. It is more than I ever thought was possible. Thank you. I forgive you for Ba Sing Se; I forgive you for what happened."
He released a slow breath. "Thank you, Jin. I'm sorry for what I did; I'm sorry for what happened to your baby."
"I saw my baby I lost that day because of you," Jin said, voice awed. "I saw what she looks like and how beautiful she is; I looked into her eyes and recognized my eyes staring back at me. You gave me the greatest gift anyone ever has. I was always going to lose her—it is my polluted womb's destiny. You were only the means of the inevitable. Yet you are the one who gave me the chance to see her, hold her, talk to her, and say goodbye. If I were not so terrified of your wife, I would hug you."
Aang's lips pulled in a small smile. "Closure. I'm glad you got it. I know how much it means."
Jin looked at him directly for the first time with kindness on her face; there was no fear, doubt, distrust, or suspicion. "The right man won the Greater War. Thank you, Aang."
"You're welcome, Jin."
XxXxXxXxXxX
"I got Uncle's letter," Zuko rushed out as soon as the ship's gangplank hit the dock; he bolted up it, uncaring that he broke decorum, and saw Katara immediately on deck—it looked like she had aged years since he last saw her. "I'm so sorry."
Katara sunk into him but was careful not to squish Yakone, who she held in her arms. "Thank you."
"Where are they?"
"Iroh has them," she whispered. "I look at them, and all I can see are Sokka and Suki—their parents. But their parents are dead, and we have to be their fake parents now."
Zuko blinked and almost cursed but refrained; it had not actively occurred to him that he would now be Kotoro and Tonuk's father with both Sokka and Suki dead. There was no one else to fill Sokka and Suki's shoes—no one he would trust, anyway, with his brother's children and heirs. "Sokka and Suki don't blame you- "
Katara's laugh was shaken and near hysterical. "I blame me—it's more than enough. And I'm worthy of the blame, Zuko—I need to be blamed. The moment after I left the South, Suki was attacked and murdered. I didn't feel comfortable leaving her there, but I trusted her judgment. I should have pushed harder or simply forced her to come back with me. Now Kotoro and Tonuk are going to look at me and think 'Mom' instead of 'Aunt'—instead of 'Failure' or 'Family-destroyer' like they should."
He cradled the back of her head with his hand, holding her against him, fingers sinking into her hair. "No. You are the Family-saver, Katara. You saved Kotoro and Tonuk the very second you could when you realized what happened. You saved them from being raised by enemies; you saved them from being attacked or killed in the South with no one, least of all a mother, there to protect them. You protected them when no one else would. Everyone in the South stood by and did nothing, but you're the one who did something. You just gave Kotoro and Tonuk the greatest gifts of their lives beyond having those weeks with Sokka and Suki to know them. You gave them each a life rather than an existence. You did it, and you needed no one to tell you to do it—you just did it because it was the right thing to do."
She looked grateful but not convinced. "But it wasn't enough. Suki's dead. Those officials were the ones to murder her, but I'm the one who doomed her. I should have stayed longer or dragged her back with me. Now the twins are stuck with us—they are stuck with me, who let their mother die."
"You didn't let Suki die," he corrected, shaking his head firmly. "Katara, you didn't know. If you knew, you would have stopped it—I know you would have. The only way you could have let Suki die is if you knew what was going to happen and let it happen, but you had no idea. The moment you had an idea of what happened, you acted immediately and rescued Kotoro and Tonuk. This isn't your fault—I won't let you say that. It's just what happened, which we had no idea would happen. Never blame yourself. Blame those officials and their wives; blame the South's situation; blame Arnook; blame the Greater War; blame Vaatu; blame my father—but never blame yourself."
One of her arms circled his back, holding him closer. "They had so short a time to be parents," she choked out. "I wanted them to have a lifetime with the twins—they deserved a lifetime. But Kotoro and Tonuk will never remember them; they will only remember us. It's not right."
"It's not, and it will be hard, but we will give them everything they need."
He was really going to have to speak with Uncle for advice—or maybe Aang since Aang was going to have enough children to forget names.
"They need their mother and father, not us."
Zuko sighed, agreeing with her but knowing it would do no good to think that way. "Yes, but do you know who made sure I reached my destiny? It was not Mom. You know it was not my father. It was Uncle. Sometimes an uncle—or aunt—can make the difference that a father or mother cannot. We are all these two have, same as Yakone. I never thought this would happen, but we can make it work. We have no choice but to make it work."
Katara exhaled roughly, and Zuko took Yakone from her arms to help ease her strain; he glanced down at Yakone for several moments, finding signs of Father in him, but he also noticed Hama, as well. Honestly, he was much more worried about Yakone and his situation than he was about Kotoro and Tonuk and their situation. Kotoro and Tonuk would be easy while he suspected that Yakone would be difficult.
He hoped, at least—because he knew from experience that there was always a difficult child, and he would rather it be Yakone, who he would know how to handle due to his own experience with Father.
"How do we make it work?" Katara asked at last, voice soft, as she pulled her other hand and brushed gently across Yakone's forehead. "We have three infants to raise now, which reminds me—we need a wet nurse. I can't nurse three infants. I've tried already, and my nipples feel like they're about to fall off; I never knew they could feel so sore."
"I'll arrange for a wet nurse as soon as possible," he promised. "We will make this work—I swear."
"How?"
"Yakone will be our official son, but Kotoro and Tonuk will still be officially recognized as Sokka and Suki's sons," he explained, knowing it was the only possibility. "This is too politically charged and complicated. We will raise them and love them, but they will always know that they are our nephews, not our sons, unlike Yakone."
Katara peered up at him, ashamed. "I'm so sorry for all this. I never wanted to put this extra pressure on you. I know how hard it is to be Fire Lord, and having three infants, all Waterbenders, looks terrible for you. You should have a Firebender- "
Zuko waved a hand. "Fire will accept. It would be terrible if we were recognizing Kotoro and Tonuk as our sons, but we are not. This situation does not suggest Fire's blood is weak, not at all. What it does is convey to Fire what a generous uncle I am. Samir does say I'm the 'best' all the time."
As he intended, she laughed slightly. "I feel furious and distraught—I have since I found Suki's body. But I feel better now because you're here. Thank you."
He kissed the side of her head. "I feel better now that you are here, as well. I'm sorry for everything that has happened. Uncle said your grandmother died."
Surprisingly, there was peace on Katara's face when he mentioned it. "She was ready. My Family is gone, but I have a new Family here with you. The South is never my home again."
Zuko began to rethink his vow to take her to visit the South once a year every year, but he knew it would still likely be necessary considering he was now raising and housing the South's rightful heir. "We're going to make the Family grow."
While her brilliant blue eyes were moist with tears, a smile stretched across her face. "We will."
XxXxXxXxXxX
Aang cut a breakneck pace to reach the Fire Nation to notify Zuko of the developments in the South, but when he arrived, he found Katara already there—and with Kotoro and Tonuk. While he was relieved that the twins were safe, he learned the full story from Katara of what happened to Suki and how it happened. He had already explained what happened to Azula, Samir, and Ursa, but it didn't appear to register to Samir what exactly happened until she saw the twins living with Zuko and Katara and realized the depths. She freaked out and accused the twins of stealing 'Uncle Zuzu' from her and asked why Suki lost her babies, which necessitated a long, exhausting conversation that culminated in the comparison of her adoption by him and Azula and how the twins would have a similar situation because they had no one to care for them.
Unfortunately, Suki's death only confirmed that Water's trials would likely be the most intense and long-lasting, confirming his fears after his discussion with Onartok in the North. There would need to be much monitoring and negotiation to ensure there was peace instead of strife—and it would be decades long, likely. For now, Aang decided to let the South have a regent that falsely declared himself Chief in Kotoro or Tonuk's absence, refusing to take vengeance for Suki's murder and the near-kidnapping of the rightful heirs; to keep the peace, the very balance that was only possible currently with the boys so young, he would have to let it slide—for now. If there would be any vengeance, it would be in Zuko and Katara raising the twins to reclaim Sokka's title and position many, many years from now once they reached manhood and maturation.
But there was something much closer to his heart—to his very spirit!—that drew his attention away from his concerns over Water and with Kotoro and Tonuk.
In the many weeks—closer to two months—since Aang last saw Zuko and Zuko having returned to the Fire Nation, Zuko managed to gather Ty Lee's surviving family, which was larger numerically than he had hoped. The majority of them survived the plague, but every older member had died during the chaos—all the direct children and first grandchildren of the seven Airbenders he met were killed. Their other grandchildren, all half-spawns due to the inbreeding, were alive and well, beautiful to know. And simply by being in their presences and stretching his sense, he knew they were Airbenders with stunted chis that could be healed and reversed, and he took the most profound pleasure of his life in revealing to them the truth of their natural talents and inheritances.
They all looked very similar to Ty Lee, all evident half-spawns of Air with Fire with gray eyes—just like Ty Lee and Samir. Their hair was not the pitch-black of Fire like Ozai, Zuko, Azula, or Ursa's hair or the light of Air like he had seen in Gyatso and the other Air Nomads he knew, both elder and younger, but it was a beautiful brown color—a blend between the two. He saw the truth of themselves in their features, which were like Ty Lee's and more similar to Air's than Fire's. The biggest difference he gathered was the brown hair instead of the light hair, but Aang's own hair was black, descended from the black-haired Air Nomads, the renowned rebels who were so rebellious the High Council of Elders hunted them to extinction.
Air would survive.
"I know it's hard to believe," he began, bowing to them, overwhelmed with all the passion and joy mingling inside him. He could barely contain himself from simply running forth and hugging each of them. "I see it when I look at you. I knew Ty Lee, and she figured out the truth. You will have to live with me and my wife at the Southern Air Temple, where you will learn Air's culture and ways; you will live the legacy of the powerful, free blood in your veins. I have a daughter, and one of you or your sons will marry her if it works out—or she will marry one of my natural sons. You will—or your children will—all marry our children to preserve and revive Air simultaneously. I know this is difficult to grasp- "
"Fire Lord Zuko already explained everything, Avatar Aang," one said with amusement. "And it explains much of the confusion and secrecy in our family and provides the answers we always sought. Some of us even suspected aspects of this but never had the full picture. We understand the necessities for Air's survival—our heritage's survival. We are grateful you accept us as your own. We will do everything we need to do."
Aang swallowed, knowing how he would have never accepted them previously before he saw Gyatso again and learned the truth. "Thank you. You give me hope I have never had before. I will heal your chis and teach you airbending; you will live alongside myself, my wife, and daughter—and all other children born to us. We will make a new race with all our descendants intermarrying across successive generations to give Air a lasting power and presence fundamentally necessary to Eternal Balance. The majority of you who survived the plague are around my age or somewhat older. You will continue your family's practice of inbreeding to preserve Air. Breed with your cousins to keep the lineages alive and connected with each other, and once your children and my children are grown, they will marry and produce their own children, who will be the foundation of a new race. It is not only me who revives Air; it's also your grandfathers—the seven secret Airbenders saved, preserved, and spared by Sozin—who live on in you with great presence. We win against extinction because you are here. Do you understand what I'm asking? Do you understand what Air, which is the greatest friend you will ever have, demands of you?"
"The inbreeding does not bother us," another assured with excitement, likely wanting to learn airbending as soon as possible and walk the winds. "It is a pre-existing ritual of our family. We will do it for one more generation before our children marry all of yours, which will guarantee Air's survival—as our grandfathers endeavored to do."
"Your grandfathers sacrificed so much," Aang observed. "I hope you know that. They did everything they could to see to Air's survival, yes—they also smothered your airbending through chi-blocking, which is an ancient Air Nomad skill, discovered and mastered only by Air Nomads. None of the other races have the inclination or sense for it—never have except on the rarest occasions. Your grandfathers loved you so much and loved Air. It destroyed them to do everything they did, but they did it to save Air—and they succeeded because they loved and knew determination. From what Zuko told me and how it seems, your family is likely the most populated Fire noble house with the two or three generations between yourself and those seven Airbenders having dozens of members. The oldest were killed, but you all remain, and within you remains the airbending connection that your grandfathers were forced to suppress. Your chis were blocked to such an extent when you were realized Airbenders that the effects became permanent, stunting your airbending chis, trapping the chis in infancy. But I will fix it—I know how to fix it. I will even introduce you to Indra, the Air Spirit, who is deliriously joyful to know of your survival—exactly as I feel."
"When can we start?" another member, even younger than Aang, asked, gray eyes—gray eyes!—alight with wonder and anticipation.
Aang stared at the eagerness on all their faces—half-spawns of his race, which meant Air would never suffer the threat of extinction so severely!—and swore he heard Gyatso's gentle, knowing laughter ring in the air.
He was unsure he had ever smiled with such radiance in his life. "We can start right away."
XxXxXxXxXxX
The gentle water was crystal-blue with innocent waves swaying forward with rhythm, white billowing foam cascading off the top as they reached the sand. The air was warm, heated by Agni's glare, but the water was a refreshing coolness, reflecting Agni across its comforting waves in a dark, mystifying blue that contrasted to the sky's lighter tone. Motion was constant, never still, but the water lapped forward peacefully, leaving soft imprints along the shore. Glimmering rocks and shells, highlighted by Agni's beaming light, were smooth and solid to walk upon. The smell of the ocean enveloped the air, whiffs of salt filling nostrils, a light mist that soaked into the flesh. It was addictive, a smell and sight so pure of which he would never tire.
Ember Island looked as majestic as his memory told him.
"Quite a familiar sight!" Aang called out as he jumped from Appa's head into the saddle when he landed after flying over the beach. Immediately, Samir was already climbing down to set foot in the courtyard. In contrast, Azula was much slower and methodical in her movements, each gesture made with consideration and calculation.
He held out a hand to help her, but she glared at him. "I am not helpless."
Aang purposefully refrained from glancing at her very prominent swollen stomach. "Considering you will push for hours, the least I can do is- "
"Abstain from mothering me," she drawled, rolling her eyes. "I doubt Katara is as mothering to Yakone and the twins as you are to me, nor is Mother mothering Rina so extensively."
Ursa had recently given birth to her newest child—a daughter named after her mother, the same woman Aang once met—and stayed at the Southern Temple with Ty Lee's extended family to recover.
He shrugged, shameless. "I have to look out for my little Airbender in there."
"If you look too closely you will see a lightning strike."
Aang laughed and kept his hand in position—because, as always, Azula eventually grabbed it, and he helped her down. "Would you treat the others so terribly? To think we left them at the Southern Temple all so you could treat me terribly without influencing their noble perception of you. They worship you as the Mother of Air and love that you were friends with Ty Lee."
Azula scoffed, golden eyes alight with delighted challenge. "As they should. And exactly who treats whom terribly? You impregnated me, which compromises my balance, reveals a propensity for fatness, disorders my emotions, increases my hunger, encourages excessive urination, and makes simple tasks challenging. If I am this compromised at seven months, I shudder at the thought of how compromised I will be at nine months."
He grinned. "All pretty terrible, yes, but never as terrible as a life without you in it."
She rolled her eyes but smirked. "Avatar, Avatar, why try so diligently to seduce me into your bed when you never need to?"
"Your beauty is too great to ignore," he explained, patting Appa's side as he walked alongside her to the fountain. "It stirs my advances with every moment. I cannot help but forward my seduction with Air's swiftness and Fire's passion."
"Make sure the next pregnancy includes swiftness and passion. Promise me twins."
Aang smirked. "Yes. My seed will be more 'efficient,' Azula. But the question is—can your womb handle it?"
Her eyes lit up with competitive fire. "Of course. Make it triplets if you dare."
"Daddy!" Samir exclaimed in interruption; her face was flushed in expectation after she finished exploring the courtyard through a vigorous 'run through.' "Mommy said there's volleyball! Let's play it!"
Azula smirked up at him and patted his bearded cheek briefly. "Your father is too afraid, Samir—he knows I will beat him."
Samir gasped in surprise but beamed up at him. "It's okay, Daddy! I'll be on your team so we'll beat Mommy! Airbenders are the best!"
Aang rubbed a hand across Samir's head, gliding his fingers through her hair. "Yes, they are. How about you go pick your room in the house, and then maybe we'll play volleyball."
"Okay!" she agreed, grabbed her bag with a flourish and bolted—with a gust of wind accompanying her.
In the four months since returning to the Southern Temple to live, Samir's airbending had gotten better, helped by the presence of all the other Airbenders—members of her lineal family—living at the Southern Temple with them all. Aang had restored all their airbending connections and begun teaching them airbending—with minimal progress made. However, because Samir was finally with other Airbenders at her level, she was making more progress—or it appeared that she was, at least. It seemed that some of the others could speak to Samir in such as a way that she understood it while Aang always had difficult 'dumbing it down' to reach her level.
Air was more alive than it had been in so long—it was a miracle!
Azula rolled her eyes when Aang tossed her a volleyball—left in the courtyard in one of the slots with other supplies and tools for 'having fun.' "I hope you are not serious about beating me at volleyball. You could play the whole world in volleyball and still win."
Aang grinned as she caught the ball. "And that's exactly why you married me—so I would always be on your team, and you would be on the winning side forever. It was a strategic choice."
"Indeed," she confirmed with a laugh. "It was the most rational choice to make."
"I can't wait until you see airball," he breathed, the yearning present as always, but unlike other times, there was anticipation to go with it—because he would be able to play airball again once Samir and the others were capable. "Maybe we can make some modifications so you can play it, too."
One of her brows rose. "I would still lose."
"Of course, but it could be fun."
"There is no fun in losing. Why did I marry you again?"
Aang gasped in performative shock. "The secret is out! And I thought it was for my rogue behavior!"
Azula's golden eyes were serious and intent. "It was for many things. Thank you for everything, Aang. You ensured my recovery and saw the best in me when no one else but Zuko and Mother would have. You should have hated me, killed me, and disposed of my corpse, but you befriended me, instead. It was impossible not to love you after that. And now we are back on Ember Island, where I fell in love with you the first time and find myself doing it again."
He sat down next to her on the fountain's lip and pulled her close, smiling. "Why do you think I brought you here? We needed another vacation with everything going on. Once our child is born, everything changes—it becomes more real and permanent. There will always be significance henceforth. But here on Ember Island, we can recover and relax—just like we did the first time where we loved each other. We started here, and we end here."
"If that is not Eternal Balance, I cannot conceive Eternal Balance," Azula drawled, lips pulling in a contented smile.
"This is where it started; it is where it must end," Aang agreed. "I told you we would get another vacation during the Greater War."
Azula turned and stared up at him, golden eyes marvelous under Agni's light, shining with not only pleasure but satisfaction. "There are no endings, only new directions."
Aang remembered Gyatso saying the same and kissed her in reward for remembering Gyatso's priceless wisdom. "I don't know about you, but I love this new direction."
"As do I. It is the best."
"Eternal Balance," he whispered, feeling the wind lap around them with its salty breeze from the ocean so close to the house. It felt powerfully right with Azula sitting next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "It's coming back."
XxXxXxXxXxX
I hope that you all enjoyed it. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I'd really appreciate it! There will be one more chapter—an Epilogue.
*The recovery begins after the Greater War's end where Eternal Balance is possible! People notify one another of everything that happened and how things can move forward where the Realms' are in alignment with Eternal Balance, including Air's revival in Ty Lee's noble family and Azula's pregnancy.
Political situations are discussed, along with the ramifications of events, specifically for Earth and Water with everything that happened in the Greater War. For Water, Sokka and Hakoda's deaths have massive consequences that will take many years to resolve, which everyone feels. Unfortunately, due to the politics and glaring problems, Suki is murdered to try to salvage the situation in the South without any possible candidate for Chief but twin baby boys, but Katara finds out and kills the murderers and takes Kotoro and Tonuk to raise herself with Zuko, seeing no other option—wanting to do right by Kotoro and Tonuk, who can't defend themselves.
[In a realm of snow and ice (which means water is everywhere and can and will be used as a weapon), Suki has no feasible defense against any attacks for a long period of time (like more than a minute). She was also still recovering from her pregnancy which takes time. It has nothing to do with the skill level of the assassins; it has to do with the context/circumstances/situation where she doesn't have the means or capability to defend herself in a realistic manner for an extended period of time. A non-bending woman who recently gave birth, even one as skilled as Suki, has no chance against two waterbending assassins (men who fought in the final battle of the Greater War and survived) in a location that benefits and strengthens them while only compromising Suki's ability to survive because everything is water and, thus, a weapon, which assassins would take advantage of. Suki's very skilled—she absolutely is. It's just the location in the South where EVERYTHING is a weapon because everything is snow and ice (which means water). There's no way she could realistically put up a fight in such a place, especially with her body still recovering after giving birth to twins. Normally, the South would never condone such behavior, but the South will accept the new leader because Katara literally takes the twins away to raise in the Fire Nation, which is a horrible look in terms of politics. Katara's not going to change her mind because she's in so much grief about Sokka, Hakoda, Kanna, and Suki's deaths.]
For Earth, Bor has taken steps, under Toph and Jin's advisement and Aang's reluctant approval, to unify Earth under himself in a bid to end the bloodshed and chaos. Just because the Greater War is over doesn't mean the battle is over—because word travels slowly, and with how destructive the Greater War was, it takes a lot to be able to rebuild, and Earth was devastated terribly.
For Fire, Zuko has started rebuilding and ensuring that Fire is unified as they have been for countless generations for Kai. Critically, Fire is already unified, unlike Water and Earth, which makes for a much easier and seamless process in rebuilding infrastructures and culture.
For Air, Aang meets Ty Lee's noble family and explains to them what needs to happen for Air's survival, and they all are willing to do anything. Air's population just got bigger, but its presence will only be confirmed when the next generation—Aang's children with Azula—is born.
Well, I think that is everything. I hope that you all enjoyed it, and I would really appreciate it if you left a review to tell me what you thought about it.
Stay Safe
ButtonPusher
