Chapter 1: Beneath the Southern Lights

AN: Welcome to the fourth and final book of this story! While I don't necessarily consider this part of the original trilogy, I see it more as a companion piece—similar to how the comics follow up on the main story. Rather than focusing on a grand, overarching plot, this book is all about giving the characters space to shine. Expect plenty of character development, fluff, hurt/comfort, and just a touch of situational angst. But don't worry—it won't be all fluff, and it certainly won't be as dark as the trilogy!

I plan to update once a week on Saturdays, aligning with my other story, Stars and Struggles, which updates on Wednesdays. So if you're looking for more reading material, feel free to check that out too!

Thank you all for the incredible support—it truly means the world to me. I hope you enjoy the start of this new journey!

The wind had grown colder. It nipped at their faces, slipping through the fur-lined coats they wore, a stark contrast to the warmer climates they had grown used to in their travels. Below them, the once-endless blue of the ocean had transformed, now dotted with floating chunks of ice, bobbing gently with the waves. The air carried the unmistakable scent of home—clean, crisp, and laced with the distant salt of the sea.

Katara was the first to notice the shift, her fingers tightening around the reins as she sat at the front of the saddle. Her heart pounded with anticipation, a familiar excitement she hadn't felt in so long. "We're getting close," she said, turning to the others, her voice light with happiness.

Sokka, who had been lying back against the saddle, jolted upright at her words. He squinted at the horizon, searching, before letting out an eager laugh. "Finally!" He stretched his arms above his head, grinning. "I swear, these past three days have felt longer than the entire war."

Katara rolled her eyes, though she couldn't hide her own smile. "You say that like you've been the one carrying everyone on this trip."

Sokka gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me, I've been carrying the morale of this group. It's an important job."

Rina chuckled from her spot beside him, shaking her head. "You know, I actually missed this," she admitted, nudging Sokka with her elbow. "The bad jokes, the over-the-top dramatics... It's weird not constantly looking over my shoulder for some surprise attack." She pulled her coat tighter around her. "Feels good to just... be for once."

Kya, sitting between her two children, reached over and smoothed a hand over Sokka's hair, then Katara's, her fingers lingering as if grounding herself in their presence. "I can't wait to have you both home," she murmured. Then she turned, her warm gaze falling on Rina and Aang. "All of you."

Hakoda nodded beside her, arms crossed, watching them with quiet pride. "The whole tribe will be waiting for you. They'll want to see our warriors return—especially the ones who fought so hard for all of us." His voice was deep, steady, but there was an unmistakable emotion beneath it.

Aang sat toward the back of the saddle, wrapped tightly in his coat and blankets, his wheelchair folded up and strapped securely beside him. He had been listening quietly, letting the conversation wash over him. There was a time when he would have jumped in, cracking jokes with Sokka or throwing in his own playful remarks. But right now... he just wanted to savor this moment.

No responsibilities. No war. No looming battles on the horizon.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn't racing toward a new fight, a new crisis. He wasn't trying to catch up, to keep pushing forward despite his exhaustion.

They were simply going home.

The thought alone made his shoulders relax, tension slowly unwinding from muscles that had been tight for far too long. He let out a quiet sigh, his breath misting in the cold air, before leaning forward slightly, resting his chin on his arms. "I just want to sleep in a real bed," he admitted, voice quiet but content. "With no one waking me up because the world's about to end."

Katara turned, her gaze softening as she looked at him. He looked... peaceful. Tired, yes—but not in the way he had been after battles, when exhaustion was edged with grief or guilt. This was something different. Something lighter.

She shifted closer, brushing her fingers over his scalp in that familiar way she knew soothed him. He barely reacted, only letting out a hum of acknowledgment, his eyes slipping shut for a moment as the wind ruffled through the markings of his tattoos.

"Soon," she promised, her voice just loud enough for him to hear over the wind. "We're almost there."

Aang let himself believe it.

As Appa rumbled beneath them, carrying them steadily forward, the first jagged peaks of ice in the distance confirmed what they had been anticipating.

"There it is!" Katara gasped, her breath visible in the cold air as she pointed ahead.

Sokka immediately shot forward, practically climbing over Rina in the process. "I knew I wasn't hallucinating! Land ho!" He turned to Katara, eyes gleaming. "You see that? You doubted me when I said I could smell home!"

Katara scoffed. "Sokka, you've been saying you could 'smell home' for three days."

"And I was right!" Sokka grinned victoriously before turning to Rina. "Rina, you're my witness, she doubted me."

Rina smirked. "I mean… I doubted you too, but I'll pretend I didn't for the sake of your pride."

Sokka clutched his chest dramatically. "Betrayal! In my own saddle!"

Kya and Hakoda exchanged amused glances as the children chattered excitedly, but neither interrupted. They knew what this moment meant. This was home, their home, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they were returning not as warriors, but as a family.

As Appa descended, the flurry of movement below became clearer. People were gathering, drawn out by the distant roar of Appa's approach. The moment his shadow stretched over the icy village, excited murmurs turned into full-blown shouts.

"They're back!"

Cheers rang through the village. People rushed forward, faces alight with joy. There were warriors who had fought alongside Hakoda, elders who had feared they'd never see their chief again, children who squealed at the sight of Appa landing with a mighty thud onto the snow-covered ground.

As soon as Hakoda and Kya dismounted, they were immediately surrounded. "Chief Hakoda! Kya! You made it back safely!"

Hakoda barely had time to respond before being enveloped in a tight embrace by an old friend. Kya was pulled into her own flurry of welcomes, people clutching her hands, pressing their foreheads to hers in greeting.

But the attention wasn't just on them.

"Katara! Sokka!" A woman rushed forward, nearly tackling Katara in a hug before moving onto Sokka, shaking him by the shoulders. "You're alive! Do you have any idea how much your parents worried about you?"

Katara laughed, though her eyes were already scanning the crowd to see where her parents went. "I can imagine."

A small child tugged on Sokka's coat. "Did you beat up the Fire Lord?"

Sokka puffed out his chest. "Oh, you bet we did. Took him down in one punch—"

Rina nudged him. "It took an entire war."

"Details, Rina, details," Sokka muttered before ruffling the kid's hair.

Rina, meanwhile, found herself immediately bombarded with pats on the back, warriors thanking her for everything she had done.

Then, as the energy settled just slightly, the attention turned toward Aang.

The murmurs of celebration softened as more and more people took in the sight of him—his heavily bandaged right arm, the way he sat bundled in blankets, exhaustion clear on his face.

A few of the elders bowed their heads in gratitude. "Avatar Aang… welcome back."

Aang managed a small, warm smile. "It's really good to be here."

But then came the hard part.

Katara, Sokka, and Rina moved quickly, unfastening Aang's wheelchair from where it was securely strapped in the saddle. They worked together to unfold it, shaking off the bits of frost that had settled into its frame. Then, carefully, they positioned it on the snow.

Katara turned back to Aang. "Okay, ready?"

Aang exhaled slowly, bracing himself. "Yeah."

They moved carefully, each one supporting him as they lifted him from the saddle. Even with their gentleness, pain lanced through Aang's body the moment he was shifted. He let out a sharp breath, a small groan escaping before he could stop it. His arm throbbed, his muscles stiff and uncooperative after days of travel.

But the three of them didn't falter. They eased him down into the chair, making sure he was fully secure before stepping back.

Aang let out a shaky exhale. "Thanks, guys."

Sokka gave him a mock salute. "Hey, what are friends for?"

Rina crossed her arms, smirking. "You'd do the same for us."

Aang huffed a quiet laugh. "Let's hope I never have to."

But as Sokka moved to push the chair forward, the whole group quickly ran into an unforeseen issue.

The wheels barely budged.

Sokka grunted, planting his feet as he tried again. The chair lurched forward maybe half an inch before sinking into the packed snow.

A beat of silence.

Sokka blinked. "...Huh."

Katara's hands went to her hips. "Oh no."

Aang stared at his stuck wheels, then at the snow surrounding them. "Okay, yeah, we probably should've thought this through."

"I got this," Sokka declared, adjusting his grip. He bent his knees, took a deep breath, and shoved forward with all his might—

Nothing.

He tried again. And again. The wheels groaned, shifting slightly, but the chair refused to glide smoothly.

Aang, watching this, leaned back in his seat. "Sooooo I guess I live out here now."

Rina patted his shoulder. "We'll send you food."

Katara sighed but couldn't help the amused smile tugging at her lips. "Alright, let's do this together."

With all four of them working together—Sokka and Rina pushing, Katara pulling, and Aang using what little strength he had left to help—inch by inch, they made progress. The people of the village, watching, had already started whispering and chuckling at the sight of their supposed war heroes struggling to push a single chair through the snow.

Finally, an elder cleared his throat. "Would you like some assistance?"

"Yes," Sokka huffed immediately.

Soon, more hands joined in. Within minutes, Aang was smoothly on his way, the whole ordeal now nothing more than a humorous first challenge of being home.

Aang, despite the difficulty, couldn't stop himself from smiling. Sure, they had some things to figure out—how to make the chair work, how to adjust to life here—but right now? Right now, he was surrounded by people who cared about him.

And after everything, that was more than enough.

Katara finally reached the door, and opened it wide enough so he could be pushed inside. The inside of the house was warm—warmer than Aang had expected after all that time in the cold. The moment they crossed the threshold, the biting chill from outside faded into the comforting embrace of home.

Kya and Hakoda followed closely behind, carrying what little luggage they had managed to bring. Their footsteps were soft against the wooden floor, their movements slow as if savoring the moment of finally having their children—all of them—back under their roof.

Katara barely made it three steps inside before she suddenly stopped short. Her eyes widened, and with an exaggerated groan, she smacked a hand against her forehead.

"Oh spirits," she muttered, turning toward Aang, exasperation clear in her voice. "I could have totally just bent the snow out of the way and made a clear path for you."

Silence.

Then Sokka snorted, followed by a full-blown laugh. Even Rina chuckled, shaking her head as she patted Aang's shoulder. "Well, at least we got some exercise out of it."

Aang huffed a small laugh, rubbing the back of his head. "You know, I was wondering why no one thought of that."

Sokka clapped a hand over his heart. "Okay, I promise that I'll think of a more efficient way to help you get around. Something innovative. Something genius."

"Oh no," Katara muttered.

"Oh yes," Sokka said dramatically, pointing a finger in the air. "You will be the fastest wheelchair user in the Southern Water Tribe, mark my words."

Aang gave him a skeptical look. "Should I be scared?"

Rina smirked. "Yes."

Sokka scoffed. "No faith. None."

Katara rolled her eyes before grabbing one of the bags and throwing it over her shoulder. "For now, let's just get everything put away."

"We can carry everything to your room," Rina added, hoisting another bag onto her back. "Where are we staying?"

"For now, all four of us will be in my and Sokka's room," Katara explained. "We'll figure out something more permanent later."

As they started making their way toward the bedrooms, Kya moved to Aang's side, gently taking hold of his wheelchair. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you settled."

She wheeled him toward the couch, positioning him beside it before crouching down to start the fire. The crackle of flames soon filled the quiet space, sending warmth flickering across the walls.

Hakoda stepped forward, resting a firm hand on Aang's uninjured shoulder. His grip was warm, steady. "It's good to have you home, son."

Aang felt something tighten in his chest, something warm and unfamiliar. The word son lingered in the air, wrapping around him in a way that made his throat feel thick.

He swallowed hard, offering Hakoda a grateful smile. "It's good to be home."

A few minutes later, Katara, Sokka, and Rina emerged from the bedroom, dusting off their hands after setting everything down. Katara barely hesitated before making a beeline for the couch.

She didn't sit—not at first. Instead, she settled beside Aang, her fingers reaching for his. He grasped her hand immediately, intertwining their fingers with a quiet sigh.

Sokka and Rina flopped down onto the couch, stretching out with a shared groan of exhaustion.

And then… it hit them.

They were home.

No battles waiting for them. No enemy looming on the horizon. No fear that they wouldn't live to see the next sunrise.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, they were sitting together in the quiet safety of their home, warm and whole and alive.

Aang felt it settle deep in his chest. He glanced at Katara, then at Sokka and Rina sprawled out across the couch, then at Hakoda and Kya, who had taken seats across the room.

They had made it.

They were safe.

A firm knock at the door broke through the peaceful quiet of the room.

Hakoda stood, stretching slightly before making his way over. The moment he swung the door open, a familiar face greeted him—a man bundled in thick furs, his weathered face lined with years of wisdom and a warm smile.

"Elder Nanook!" Hakoda greeted, stepping aside. "Come in, you must be freezing."

Nanook chuckled as he stepped inside, shaking the frost from his coat. "I won't stay long—I heard word that you all arrived home safely, and I wanted to welcome you back personally." His gaze swept over the group, his kind eyes lingering on each of them in turn. "It brings me peace to see you all here, alive and well."

Katara smiled. "Thank you, Elder."

He nodded before turning back to Hakoda. "You've all arrived just in time. The Southern Lights will appear tonight."

Sokka immediately perked up. "Wait, tonight? Really?!"

Elder Nanook chuckled at his enthusiasm. "Yes. It's going to be a magnificent display—one of the brightest we've had in years."

Aang tilted his head. "Wait… the Southern Lights?"

Katara turned to him, her eyes lighting up. "You've never seen them?"

Aang shook his head. "I've heard of the Northern Lights in the Northern Water Tribe, but I didn't know the South had them too."

"Oh, we do," Kya said, her voice warm with nostalgia. "They're breathtaking. Streaks of green and blue and violet dancing across the sky, moving like waves in the wind."

"They shimmer," Hakoda added, smiling at the memory. "Almost like they're alive, shifting and swirling over the ice."

Sokka nodded eagerly. "When we were kids, we'd all pile up together in the furs and just stare at them for hours." He nudged Rina playfully. "It's even better with someone to watch them with."

Rina smirked and nudged him right back. "Lucky for you, I am someone."

Sokka draped an arm over her shoulder with a proud grin. "Guess I am lucky."

Aang, meanwhile, had turned his attention to Katara. His fingers absentmindedly traced circles against her palm, their hands still intertwined from earlier. "Can I go?" he asked softly, looking up at her.

Katara blinked before laughing. "Of course you can, Aang." She squeezed his hand gently. "You have to see them at least once."

"Yeah, but first," Sokka interjected, sitting up straight. "We need to figure out how to get him there. I don't know if you've noticed, but rolling a wheelchair through snow? Not ideal."

Katara hummed in agreement. "We could always bend a path for him."

"That works," Rina admitted, "but what if the snow piles up again? You'd have to keep clearing it the whole time."

Kya, who had been deep in thought, suddenly brightened. "What about a sled?"

Aang raised an eyebrow. "A sled?"

Hakoda stroked his chin. "That's… not a bad idea. We could secure the wheelchair onto a large sled and just pull him along."

Sokka's eyes lit up. "Ooooh, I like that. That's efficient."

Rina tilted her head. "Think we can get one ready by tonight?"

Hakoda chuckled. "I know a few people who'd be very willing to help." He clapped a hand on Aang's shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll get you to those lights one way or another."

Aang smiled, feeling warmth settle in his chest. He shifted slightly in his chair, leaning a little closer to Katara, who instinctively rested her head against his shoulder. He let out a soft breath, soaking in the moment.

Sokka did the same with Rina, pulling her just a little closer as the conversation continued.

For the first time in what felt like forever, they weren't planning a battle.

They were planning a night to simply enjoy life.

And that, Aang thought, was exactly what he needed.

Hakoda patted Aang's shoulder once more before turning to Sokka. "Come on, let's go see if we can find a sled that'll work."

Sokka shot up from his seat, cracking his knuckles with determination. "Right. Operation 'Get Aang to the Lights Without Him Sinking in the Snow' is officially underway."

Rina smirked. "You need a shorter name for that."

Sokka scoffed. "Rina, please. This is important work."

Hakoda shook his head, amused, as he pulled on his thick coat. "We shouldn't be gone long." He glanced toward Kya. "Think you'll be alright without us?"

Kya waved him off. "Oh, please. I've kept the house in order without you plenty of times." She turned toward the others, hands on her hips. "Speaking of which, I'll get started on dinner."

Katara, still curled up beside Aang, immediately sat up. "I'll help!"

Rina perked up as well. "Me too."

Aang nodded, shifting in his chair. "Same here."

Kya smiled at the eagerness from all three of them. "Alright then, come on."

As Hakoda and Sokka disappeared out the door, Katara led the way into the small but well-kept kitchen. The fire she had started earlier flickered warmly, casting the space in a soft glow.

Kya moved first, rolling up her sleeves and heading straight for the storage area. "We should have some dried sea prunes left, and I think we still have some fish that the hunters brought in before we left…"

Rina grabbed a few of the empty bowls from the shelf. "Anything specific you want me to do?"

Kya chuckled. "Let's start with cutting the vegetables. Aang, could you—" She turned to him, but immediately hesitated.

Aang was already reaching for the sack of flour on the counter, but his right arm, still heavily wrapped in bandages, barely lifted from his side. His fingers twitched, trying to grasp the fabric of the sack, but no matter how hard he tried, his hand just wouldn't cooperate.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, brow furrowing in frustration.

Katara and Rina both paused what they were doing, their eyes flicking toward him.

After a moment, Aang let out a small, dry laugh. "Guess I'm not as helpful as I thought."

Kya's expression softened. "Sweetheart, you are helpful. You just need time to adjust."

Aang forced a small smile, but there was no mistaking the way his shoulders slumped slightly. He wanted to be useful. He wanted to do the simple things he had always done before.

Katara set down the dried sea prunes and stepped toward him. "Here," she murmured, moving behind his chair. "I'll help."

Aang blinked as she carefully guided his left hand to the sack, placing hers over his to steady it. "You can still use this arm," she said softly. "And I can be your right arm for now."

His fingers curled around the fabric, her hand warm over his own. It wasn't perfect, but together, they managed to lift the sack just enough to set it properly on the counter.

Rina watched before turning back to her own task, smiling faintly as she sliced through the vegetables. "You know, Aang, if you really wanted to impress us, you could just use airbending to help."

Aang huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, I could… but knowing my luck today, I'd probably just make a mess."

Kya chuckled as she pulled out the cooking pot. "Well, either way, I'm just happy you're all here. I've missed having a full kitchen."

Katara stayed close to Aang's side, her hands naturally guiding his as they worked together. It started with small things—helping him hold a knife steady while he sliced sea prunes, keeping a firm grip on the mixing bowl while he stirred with his left hand. Each time Aang struggled, she was there, her presence warm and unwavering.

"Okay," Katara said, reaching for a bundle of dried herbs. "We need to crush these for the broth."

Aang looked down at his hands. "I used to just—" He made a small motion with his right hand, a ghost of an old movement that now refused to follow through. He sighed. "Guess I need a new way to do things."

Katara smiled gently and nudged his left hand toward the bowl. "Good thing you've got me then."

Aang huffed a small laugh. "Oh yeah? What does the great Katara suggest?"

She smirked, plucking a handful of herbs and placing them in his palm. Then, she covered his hand with her own. "We do it together."

Aang's fingers curled slightly, trapping the herbs as Katara guided his movements. Slowly, she helped him crush them, the fragrant aroma of the fresh spices rising between them. Aang focused on the motion, the warmth of her skin against his, the way her breath tickled his cheek as she leaned in to help.

His heart swelled.

"See?" Katara murmured, her voice soft with encouragement. "You're doing great."

Aang turned his head slightly, watching her instead of the herbs. "That's because I have the best right arm in the world."

Katara's cheeks flushed, but she chuckled. "Glad to be of service."

They continued like that, falling into an easy rhythm. Every so often, Katara would adjust his grip or steady his hand when his movements faltered, but never once did she let him feel like a burden. Instead, she smiled at him like she always had—like nothing had changed, even when everything had.

At one point, Aang dipped a finger into the broth to taste it, but before he could react, Katara did the same—only she bumped into him in the process.

"Hey!" Aang laughed as her hand brushed against his.

Katara grinned. "Oops. Guess we both had the same idea."

Aang licked the broth off his fingertip, smirking. "It's missing something."

Katara raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what, oh Master Chef Aang, do you suggest?"

Aang pretended to think for a moment before nodding sagely. "More love."

Katara rolled her eyes, but she laughed, shaking her head. "You are so lucky you're cute."

Aang turned toward her fully, his smile softening as he reached for her free hand. Slowly, he pulled her closer until their foreheads gently pressed together, their noses brushing.

Katara stilled, her breath catching for just a moment.

Aang leaned in, placing the lightest, softest kiss on the tip of her nose.

Then, with a quiet sincerity, he whispered, "You know how lucky I am to have you?"

Katara melted.

She let her eyes flutter shut, her fingers squeezing his. "I think I'm the lucky one."

Aang's thumb traced over the back of her hand, and for a moment, the kitchen, the dinner, the world itself faded away. It was just them.

A quiet giggle from behind them suddenly broke the spell.

"Okay, okay," Rina teased, smirking from where she had been cutting vegetables. "I get it. You're cute. Can you finish making dinner now?"

Katara, red-faced, pulled back with an embarrassed huff. "We are making dinner!"

Aang just grinned. "Best dinner ever."

The kitchen smelled like home. The rich aroma of sea prune stew mingled with the scent of fresh herbs, the warmth of the fire flickering across the wooden walls as the final touches of their meal came together.

Katara moved effortlessly around the room, balancing bowls of steaming food in her hands as she made her way toward the table. Rina followed close behind, stacking plates with practiced ease, while Kya set out cups of warm spiced tea.

Aang, eager to help in any way he could, carefully placed utensils around the table. He moved slowly, his left hand still getting used to doing most of the work, but every time he fumbled, Katara or Rina was there to help.

As they moved about the room, a comfortable rhythm settled between them—one that felt normal. No war to plan for, no wounds to tend to, no exhaustion weighing down their every movement. Just a family setting the table for dinner.

Kya, adjusting a pot in the center of the table, let out a content sigh. "You know," she mused, glancing around at them, "it's been a long time since I've had all of my children home."

Aang glanced up from where he was setting a spoon beside a bowl. "I still can't believe you consider me and Rina your kids," he said with a small, warm laugh.

Kya tilted her head, smiling softly. "Of course, I do, sweetheart. You both mean the world to us."

Rina, who had been quietly adjusting the plates, stilled at those words. Her fingers curled slightly against the edge of the table, and for a moment, she didn't know what to say.

Katara noticed the shift and nudged her playfully. "You're stuck with us now, Rina. No backing out."

Rina huffed a small laugh, rolling her eyes. "I guess there are worse families to be adopted into." But despite her teasing tone, her voice was warm, and there was something soft in her expression—something grateful.

Aang smiled at them before turning back to Kya. "I'm really glad we're here," he said sincerely. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

Kya reached out, brushing a gentle hand over his scalp, her touch feather-light. "We're glad you're here too."

Katara leaned against Aang's wheelchair slightly, reaching for his hand beneath the table. He squeezed her fingers in return, his heart swelling at the simple comfort of it all.

Just as the final dish was placed on the table, the front door suddenly burst open.

"I HOPE YOU'RE ALL READY TO BE IMPRESSED BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS!"

Sokka practically barreled into the house, his arms flailing as he gestured wildly toward the door. Hakoda followed behind him, shaking his head with a half-amused, half-exhausted expression.

"We," Sokka declared, pointing dramatically at himself and Hakoda, "have just built the greatest sled contraption known to mankind."

Aang blinked. "Oh?"

"Oh?" Sokka repeated in mock offense. "Did you just 'oh' me? Aang, this isn't just any sled. This is the future of sled technology."

Katara crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Sokka, it's a sled."

"It's not just a sled," Sokka countered, practically vibrating with excitement. "It's a custom-built, specially modified, top-of-the-line mobility device that will allow Aang to ride in style to the Southern Lights."

Rina smirked. "So… it's a sled."

Sokka threw up his hands. "You people have no vision."

Hakoda patted his son's shoulder. "It's actually a good design," he admitted. "We made sure to strap the wheelchair in securely. It should work just fine."

Sokka grinned triumphantly. "See? Dad believes in me."

Kya chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, we're just about to eat. You two should wash up before we sit down."

Sokka's eyes darted to the table, and all at once, his expression shifted from manic enthusiasm to absolute joy.

"Food." His voice was almost reverent. He turned to Hakoda. "Dad, we worked hard out there. We deserve extra servings."

Hakoda sighed. "Sokka, that's not how portions—"

"I suffered, Dad."

Aang, barely holding back a laugh, looked at Katara, who rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.

Dinner was ready. Their ridiculous, wonderful, loving family was all together.

And tonight? Tonight was going to be perfect.

The warmth of the meal settled over them like a thick, comforting blanket. The clatter of spoons against bowls mixed with quiet conversation, the occasional chuckle breaking through as they ate.

"So, just to clarify," Rina said, pointing her spoon at Sokka. "This sled won't send Aang flying off into a snowbank, right?"

Sokka scoffed, hand over his heart. "I am offended by your lack of faith."

Hakoda cleared his throat. "We did triple-check the straps, so no, Aang shouldn't go flying anywhere."

Aang, mid-bite, swallowed and grinned. "Well, that's reassuring."

Katara squeezed his knee under the table, smiling. "You'll be fine. And besides, I'll be right there the whole time."

Before Aang could respond, a sudden commotion stirred outside—faint at first, then growing louder. Excited voices called out across the village.

Katara's eyes widened, and in an instant, she shot up from her seat. "It's starting!" she gasped.

Sokka practically choked on his food. "What?"

"The Southern Lights!" Katara turned toward the door, practically vibrating with excitement. "Come on!"

Everyone moved at once, the energy in the room shifting from cozy warmth to eager anticipation.

Hakoda and Sokka were the first to spring into action, heading straight for the sled parked just outside. Aang, still finishing the last sip of his tea, barely had time to react before Katara was at his side, already preparing to help him into the makeshift contraption.

"Alright, let's do this," Hakoda said, adjusting the straps on the sled. "Sokka, grab that side. Katara, you help Aang."

Katara crouched beside Aang's chair, her hands hovering gently near his good arm. "Ready?"

Aang let out a breath and nodded. "Ready."

With care, Katara and Hakoda supported Aang as he shifted onto the sled, Sokka securing the wheelchair in place as they moved. The straps clicked into place one by one, firm but comfortable.

"Alright, all set!" Sokka declared, patting the sled proudly. "Behold! Aang's chariot of glory."

Aang arched an eyebrow. "You just called it a sled."

"Yeah, but now it's cooler."

Rina, standing off to the side with Kya, crossed her arms, smirking. "It does look kind of cool."

Katara finished securing the last strap before kneeling beside Aang, brushing his arm lightly. "How's that? Comfortable?"

Aang tested the sled's movement slightly, feeling how snugly his chair was fastened. "Yeah," he said, smiling. "It's perfect."

Hakoda nodded, satisfied. "Then let's get moving."

As the family bundled up and made their way outside, the sky above them was already beginning to glow. The first wisps of green and blue danced above the ice, shimmering like spirits in the night.

Aang tilted his head back, eyes wide, breath catching in his throat.

And for the first time in so long, he felt pure wonder.

The sled glided smoothly over the snow, guided by Hakoda at the front while Sokka and Rina helped steady it from the sides. Kya and Katara walked just behind them, their presence a quiet warmth against the cold. The further they traveled, the more the village lights faded into the distance, leaving only the open ice fields stretching ahead.

Finally, they reached a wide, untouched ridge just above the village. From here, they could see everything—the ice, the sea, the endless sky above. But nothing compared to the lights.

The Southern Lights danced like living spirits, cascading across the heavens in waves of green, blue, and violet. They stretched in long, flowing ribbons, shifting and swirling as if they were painting the sky itself. Hues of pink flickered along the edges, blending seamlessly into deep indigo shadows. The stars beyond them twinkled faintly, caught in the glow of the shifting colors.

The lights reflected off the icy terrain below, making the entire world shimmer as though it, too, was part of the celestial dance. The snow beneath them seemed almost translucent, bathed in the ethereal glow, and the frozen sea in the distance mirrored the lights like a vast, rippling canvas of color.

Aang's breath caught in his throat.

He had seen incredible sights before—glowing crystals deep within the Earth Kingdom, the fiery blaze of the Great Comet, the endless skies above the Air Temples—but this… this was something else entirely.

Something otherworldly.

Without thinking, he reached up and patted his lap gently, glancing at Katara.

She blinked at him before understanding, her expression softening. With careful movements, she climbed onto his lap, adjusting so she wouldn't put too much weight on his injured arm. The moment she settled against him, he wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her close as she draped a thick blanket around both of them.

Katara rested her head against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Aang exhaled slowly, barely able to find his voice. "Yeah… it really is."

For a long time, no one spoke.

Sokka and Rina sat together just beside them, Sokka's arm slung casually over her shoulders. Kya and Hakoda stood behind them, close, their hands entwined.

The world felt still—not in an empty, lonely way, but in the kind of way that made you want to soak it all in. To remember it.

Aang tightened his grip around Katara slightly, his fingers fisting gently into the fabric of her coat. A small, shaky breath escaped him.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes before he even realized they were forming.

He swallowed thickly, staring at the sky, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

"I just…" His voice was barely more than a whisper. "I wish Kuzon and Bumi were here to see this."

Katara tensed slightly before her hand found his, her fingers threading through his own.

Rina let out a quiet exhale, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Yeah," she murmured. "They would have loved this."

Sokka's face, usually so full of humor, was somber as he stared at the sky. "Kuzon deserved to see this."

Katara swallowed hard. "He fought so hard. Right alongside us. Just like Bumi."

Aang closed his eyes, the memories hitting all at once. Kuzon, fighting with them instead of against them. Kuzon, standing beside Katara, Sokka, and Rina, making the choice to fight for what was right instead of what he was born into.

He had trusted them. Had believed in them.

And now… he was gone.

Aang's breath trembled as he shook his head slightly. "I miss them."

Katara turned slightly in his lap, shifting so she could see his face better. "Me too."

"They would have loved this," Rina murmured, voice soft but certain. "I mean, Kuzon? He would have been in awe."

Sokka nodded, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "And Bumi? He probably would've tried to convince us to ride the lights somehow."

That pulled a small laugh from Aang—wet and quiet, but real. "Yeah… he definitely would have."

Katara reached up, brushing away the tear trailing down Aang's cheek. He leaned into her touch slightly, eyes still locked on the lights above.

After a long pause, he whispered, "I'm so happy you and Sokka got to have this homecoming…" He swallowed, his voice so small, so fragile, that it barely carried over the wind. "I just wish I could have had a homecoming with the Air Nomads too."

Katara's chest ached at his words. She squeezed his hand tightly, as if trying to ground him in the moment. "Aang…"

He blinked quickly, trying to push the tears away, but another escaped, trailing silently down his cheek. He turned his head slightly, pressing his face into her shoulder, his breathing uneven.

Katara let him stay like that, her arms curling around him in quiet comfort.

Sokka, watching his friend so vulnerable, exhaled through his nose before muttering, "You know… I don't know if this makes it any better, but…" He hesitated, then pressed on. "If I could trade this for you getting to see the Air Nomads again, I would."

Aang lifted his head slightly, looking at him.

Sokka gave a half-shrug, his expression softer than usual. "You deserved that homecoming, too."

Aang inhaled deeply, then exhaled, his breath shaking.

He turned back toward the sky, watching the lights swirl and dance above them.

"I think they'd be happy I got to see this," he finally murmured. "Even if they can't be here."

Katara tightened her grip around him, tucking her face against his neck. "I think they are here," she whispered. "In the wind. In the sky. They're a part of it, Aang. Just like you."

Aang squeezed his eyes shut.

And for the first time in a long time, he let himself believe it.

They sat together in the quiet, the glow of the Southern Lights illuminating their faces in soft, shifting colors. The sky above them continued its breathtaking dance, green and blue waves twisting effortlessly through the darkness, stretching infinitely across the heavens. It was as if the spirits themselves had painted the sky just for them, a gift—a reminder that even after everything, there was still beauty in the world.

No one spoke for a long time.

There was no need to.

Aang let out a deep, slow breath, his body melting into Katara's warmth as she curled closer against him. He could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing, the familiar rhythm grounding him, soothing him. He tightened his arm around her waist, pressing his forehead gently against her temple.

Sokka and Rina sat just a few feet away, nestled together under their own blanket. Sokka had an arm wrapped lazily around Rina's shoulders, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns against her arm. She leaned into him, her head resting against his chest, her usually guarded expression softened into something peaceful.

Kya and Hakoda stood a little ways back, their hands entwined, watching their children with quiet contentment. Kya let out a slow, happy sigh, her head leaning against Hakoda's shoulder. "It's been so long since I've seen them like this," she murmured. "So… at peace."

Hakoda gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "They deserve this," he said, his voice low, full of warmth. "All of them."

Katara shifted slightly in Aang's lap, adjusting the blanket so it covered them both more snugly. She looked up at him, her blue eyes shimmering under the glow of the lights. "Are you warm enough?"

Aang smiled, resting his chin against her hair. "With you here? Always."

Katara huffed a soft laugh, rolling her eyes playfully, but she didn't argue. Instead, she just laced her fingers with his, holding his hand against her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath his palm.

The cold wind blew gently around them, but it wasn't biting—it wasn't harsh. It was just there, whispering through the snow, ruffling through their coats, dancing through Aang's tattoos like a long-lost friend.

They were home.

The war was over.

There were no battles waiting for them. No enemies to fight. No looming threats hanging over their heads.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, they could rest.

They could breathe.

Aang closed his eyes for a moment, just feeling it. The warmth of Katara in his arms. The laughter of Sokka as he whispered some joke to Rina. The familiar, comforting presence of Kya and Hakoda, standing close by. The gentle rumble of Appa, lying nearby in the snow, his fur glowing under the shifting colors above.

He wasn't running anymore.

He wasn't fighting.

He was here.

With the people he loved.

A quiet tear slipped down his cheek, but this time, it wasn't out of grief.

It was gratitude.

Katara must have noticed, because she shifted, cupping his face gently, her thumb brushing the stray tear away. She didn't say anything—she just kissed his cheek, soft and lingering, before pressing her forehead against his once more.

Aang exhaled shakily, a small smile tugging at his lips.

And in that moment, as the Southern Lights shimmered endlessly above them, he knew.

They were going to be okay.

Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow.

But together, they would heal.

And finally, finally…

They could just be.