FicWad

The crash of the doors hitting the walls nearly had Katara water whipping Iroh back into the corridor in a startled panic; only Sokka's worried shout of her name, and the realization that she felt completely drained, made her check herself. Sokka remained leaning against the door post, gingerly cradling his arm, looking whole but rather worse for wear. Iroh had taken a sweeping look around the room, making note of the still burning fires, the bodies of the generals, and the slumped form of the former Fire Lord. The last seemed to shake him, but then he was crossing the room with rapid steps and kneeling at Katara's side. Trembling, wizened hands reached for Zuko, pausing above the fallen firebender's still form and then took Zuko's limp hand.

"Is he," Iroh paused, swallowing thickly, grief in his eyes.

"He's alive," she said, her words tearful and shaky. She swallowed, clearing her throat. "His heart," her voice cracked, "it almost stopped."

Iroh grimly nodded his understanding, his eyes fixed on the water-covered hand she had pressed against Zuko's diaphragm. Katara grimaced. In those heart-stopping seconds when she thought he'd stopped breathing, she'd nearly torn his tunic open to press her palms against his chest and force his heart to start again. She was grateful it only needed a little coaxing.

Katara pulled the water away so they could both see the wound. Iroh sucked in a sharp breath. The flesh was raw, the edges curling and blackened. It looked better than it had, but there would always be a scar. Katara hoped it wouldn't be as gruesome as the one across his eye. She knew the shame Zuko felt because of it. She touched the old scar sadly then refocused on healing the new one.

"Ozai is still alive," she murmured, keeping her eyes down.

For a moment, Iroh didn't move and Katara wondered what was passing through the man's mind. Iroh lifted Zuko's hand, examining the faint burns on the fingertips and minor scorching that extended down his wrist. Without a word, he gently place Zuko's hand down and stiffly rose to his feet. Resolutely, Iroh turned and went to Ozai. Older brother regarded the younger brother solemnly. As if sensing the scrutiny, Ozai's eyes cracked open.

"Iroh," he croaked, moaning as he shifted.

"Again, it seems I've come to bid you a final farewell," Iroh said quietly. He fell silent and when he spoke again there was a note of wistfulness in his voice, "I'd wished we'd all chosen different paths. That there were other paths to choose."

"I am not like you," Ozai rasped, face twisting with pain.

"No," Iroh softly agreed. "But I still wished…"

Ozai's breath hissed between his teeth. "Azula?"

Iroh was quiet for a long moment and Katara lifted her head. Iroh's shoulders bowed and she suddenly thought he looked old and worn. "She is gone, brother."

Ozai was silent, his breathing a labored rasp. "Zuko?"

Iroh looked down at his brother for a long moment in silence, weighing the question. Ozai blinked heavily, struggling to focus, and his hand twitched toward his brother's robes, repeating with difficulty, "Zuko?"

"He's alive," he finally answered.

The dying Fire Lord looked torn, his expression twisting. Iroh knelt at his brother's side, taking the hand that lifted weakly toward him.

"Alive?" he breathed, twisting uselessly to search out Zuko. "My son…"

Ozai's hand clenched in Iroh's sleeve, knuckles turning white, gasping desperately. He convulsed, then his breath left him with a shuddering sigh and his grip fell slack, slipping from Iroh's sleeve. Gold eyes dulled into a sightless stare and Iroh gently pressed the lids closed, murmuring, "So goes the passing of Fire Lord Ozai. May the Spirits guide his path." He paused for a long heartbeat and Katara heard his breath hitch. "I'm sorry."

Iroh sat in silence at Ozai's side, gazing down at his brother's still features. With a resigned sort of determination, Iroh took a deep breath and released Ozai's hand, pushing himself heavily to his feet. He took another moment to gather himself before he turned and crossed the room to where Katara cradled Zuko's head in her lap. She'd done what she could for the moment and other healers would have to tend to both of them while she regained her strength. Now that the rush of adrenaline and terror left her, she realized her wrist and throat were throbbing and the sharp pain in her ribs was forcing her to take shallow, painful breaths.

Iroh knelt next to her once more, examining first Zuko and then Katara. His eyes narrowed at the dark bruising that was beginning to rise on her neck. He brushed a finger against the edge, a dark look on his face. "Who is responsible for this?"

Katara lifted a hand in a self-conscious attempt to hide the bruising, her eyes darting to the macabre scene on the far side of the room. Her blood-ice spikes were melting in the Fire Nation's late spring heat and her stomach heaved. She quickly turned her eyes from the sight, clamping a hand over her mouth. The former general followed her gaze, his features an expressionless mask as he took in the scene, and then he shifted to block it from her direct line of sight.

"You did well," he assured her. "You survived."

Katara's breath hitched and her eyes burned. Her lip trembled as the full-force of the past events suddenly hit. "I —"

Her throat tightened and her words got stuck on her tongue. Iroh took her hand from her neck, giving it a tight squeeze. "You both survived."

Tears spilled over and she couldn't stop the broken sob that burst from her mouth. He looked at her with dismayed understanding and swiftly brought her into a hug. That opened the floodgates in earnest and she clung to him, sobbing out her fear and pain and loss of innocence. She cried for lives lost. She cried for her mother. For Haru, Tyro, and Hana. She cried for the guards and for the generals whose lives she snatched away so she would live. She cried for Zuko and for Ozai. For what might have been, but never would be. She cried until she was a dry-heaving, hiccuping mess and someone forced her to swallow a bitter liquid. Iroh held her through it all, rocking her gently and speaking soothing words she couldn't understand. She cried until consciousness fled.

...........*.

Her eyes felt gritty when she next opened them, only to squeeze them shut when early morning sunlight slammed into her and let her know that her head was playing host to a earthbender rumble. She lifted her hands to pressed hard against her eyes in a useless attempt to ease the pounding in her skull. A chair creaked nearby and she heard the swish of fabric and the room dimmed.

"Katara?" Sokka asked quietly.

She lifted her hands and forced her eyes open again. The first thing she registered was that she was in an extremely comfortable bed. The next, she suddenly realized Zuko was absent. She levered herself upright with a gasp, only to collapse back into her pillow with a pained moan.

"That was stupid," Sokka informed her, tugging at her blankets to smooth them out again.

Katara squinted at him, breathing shallowly through the pain that lanced up her side and across her chest. He looked pale and exhausted, but largely uninjured. Satisfied that her blankets were once more situated to his standards, Sokka leaned back in his chair and scowled at her.

"Zuko?" she asked breathily.

Sokka's head tilted and he regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. "Iroh's with him. He's still unconscious, but the healers don't seem overly concerned. I'm not sure if that's because they still believe he's a traitor or not, but Iroh's been keeping an eye on them and they don't seem in any hurry to make him angry. Iroh will be by later to check on you. We're hoping for word from dad by then."

"What about you?" she asked, trying to ignore the worry that bubbled up. "Are you injured?"

"Broken arm," he said, his head tilting down to his left and then waved a dismissive hand. "And some bruising and minor burns."

For just a moment, Sokka's happy-go-lucky expression turned haunted but then he shook himself and grinned lopsidedly at her. It still looked a little forced.

"What happened?"

His grin faltered and he focused on a spot beyond her. "We confronted Azula in the prison. Something seemed…wrong. It's like she snapped. Iroh tried to talk to her…"

He trailed off, his gaze distant. Katara reached for his hand and he shook himself, clearing his throat. "Anyway, the fight itself was all very anticlimactic. Comparatively speaking. The prison was inside a dormant volcano, did you know?"

She tightened her grip on his hand, asking hesitantly, "Was?"

"Well, it's not there any more," he explained. "Iroh said that gases sometimes buildup underground. It was explosive. I don't really remember what happened next. There was a lot of screaming. The next thing I know, Iroh is pulling me out from under some rocks and telling me I'll be fine."

"I'm glad you're here," she told her brother quietly, smiling when he rolled his eyes.

Sokka huffed good-naturedly. "I'm sure you'd rather be making googly eyes at Sparky."

His words surprised a laugh out of her. "Maybe. Don't you have someone you'd like to make googly eyes at?"

A blush dusted his cheeks and Katara's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Oh," she teased, "so there is someone. Who is she?"

"No one," he denied, pulling his hand away from her and folding his arms across his chest. "She's nobody."

"Come now, Master Sokka," Iroh said from the doorway, "I'm sure your ladylove wouldn't appreciate being referred to as 'nobody.'"

"Uncle," Katara exclaimed, letting Sokka pull her upright. She leaned heavily against her brother, panting slightly.

"Miss Katara," Iroh greeted with a genial smile, "how are you feeling?"

Katara grimaced. "A headache and my ribs…"

"Ah, yes," Iroh nodded his understanding. "Your ribs are just badly bruised. Some tea will soothe your head. I've called for some and it," a brisk knock interrupted him, "ah, there it is."

A harried looking palace maidservant entered the room with a tray carrying the most ornate silver tea service Katara had ever seen. The servant looked uncertainly at Iroh before setting the tray on the bedside table and hurrying from the room. Iroh pulled a chair up to the bedside and settled easily into it, pouring each of them a cup of tea, passing the cups around.

"The staff are a little on edge," Iroh explained, taking a moment to breathe in the steam from his tea. "I don't believe they quite expected this turn of events."

Katara cradled her teacup and Sokka hungrily eyed the dainty cakes laid out on the tray. Iroh passed the cake plate with a knowing smile. "As a boy, my nephew preferred the honeyed cakes."

"How is he?" she blurted.

"You cared for him well. He is not yet awake, but we think he'll come to soon. If you feel well enough, I would like you to come see him."

She readily agreed, "Of course."

After a careful sniff, Sokka determined his chosen cake was safe enough to eat and popped the delicate confection into his mouth, nearly moaning with pleasure. He swallowed the cake and reached for another, asking, "Have you heard from the others yet?"

Iroh tapped his fingers against his teacup, setting it down on the bedside table and tucking his hands into his sleeves. "Yes. Jet sent word that there was surprisingly little resistance to the recapturing of Ba Sing Se. It appears Miss Mae and Miss TyLee weren't determined to keep it and agreed to a surrender of power. Bumi was also able to retake Omashu with relative ease."

Katara was almost afraid to ask. "And…Dad and the others?"

The sympathetic expression Iroh gave them made a cold shiver race down her spine and Sokka gave a worried squeak, choking on the cake he'd just shoved into his mouth. Iroh was on the verge of answering when sharp steps brought a palace guard to the door. Gold eyes examined the three of them, pausing with mild curiosity as he gazed at the Water Tribe siblings. He remembered himself with a start, snapping to attention and bowing toward Iroh. "You requested immediate notification of any correspondence received, General Iroh." The guard held out a leather message tube. "This just arrived, sir."

Iroh accepted the tube, glancing briefly at the seal. "Thank you, Lieutenant Chen. Please return to Prince Zuko. I will be there in a moment."

"Yes, sir."

Chen bowed and then turned sharply on his heel and left as quickly as he'd arrived, though neither Katara or Sokka paid attention to his departure. Iroh opened the sealed tube without ceremony and pulled out a single piece of parchment. He read in silence while they watched with bated breath and then he looked up with a smile, passing the missive into Sokka's eager hands. "Good news. The fleet was successful. The airships are either completely destroyed or grounded for the foreseeable future."

Katara released the breath she'd been holding, feeling like a weight had lifted from her. "And Dad?"

Iroh glanced at Sokka before he answered, "Chief Hakoda, Toph, and Aang are relatively unscathed. They will be here in three days. Now, the maids assisted our healers when they brought you here, but I'm sure you'd prefer a chance to bathe after two days abed." He stood and pulled a cord near the bed. "The maids will help you to the bathing chambers and provide anything you need. Feel free to send word when you're ready to see Zuko."

...........*.

The breeze from the ocean brought with it a taste of summer. Katara took a deep breath, relishing the fact that she could. Once she'd felt like her exhaustion had faded enough, she turned her bending skills inward and focused on the deep bruising on her ribs. Encouraging healing in herself proved more difficult than healing someone else and she'd had to take a night to recover from the migraine it'd given her before she could stand without feeling like she was going to be sick. Nearly three days after Ozai's death and they were all still reeling from the changes. A soft grunt had her turning away from the view.

"I move like an rheumatic old man," Zuko grumbled, using the doorframe to keep his balance.

"Come on," Katara chided gently, "it could be so much worse."

He huffed, letting her pull his arm over her shoulder. Together, they shuffled out onto the balcony off of his bedchambers. He dropped into the chaise lounge with a tired groan, letting his head drop to the raised back. Katara plucked at his loosely tied tunic, catching a glimpse of white bandages beneath, until he caught her hand, drawing it higher on his chest and forcing it still. Her fingers flexed and stilled as she queried anxiously, "Do you need your bandages changed?"

"Sit down, Katara," he sighed wearily.

"But…"

He cracked an eyelid to glare at her half-heartedly only for the glare to fade when he saw her worrying her lip. "I'm fine. You've done all you can. I'm just tired."

Tears welled in her eyes and she dashed them away furiously. Her emotions had waffled between relief and weepy tears. The tears would rise out of nowhere which had startled Sokka something dreadful and had sent him into frantic attempts to make them stop. His attempts only made them worse. Neither Iroh or Zuko seemed surprised when she'd burst into sudden tears without warning. Iroh had assured her it was perfectly normal after repressing everything for so long.

Zuko struggled upright, wincing as he stomach muscles pulled at his healing wound. He took her by the arms, guiding her to take the space next to him. She dropped heavily onto the seat, sniffling wetly and hiccuping, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Zuko said nothing and merely pulled her into an embrace, letting her cry it out. When her tears slowed to the occasional hiccup and sniff, he leaned back to look down at her, wiping away tear tracks. "It's okay."

Her breath hitched. "You almost died."

It was the first time the words had been spoken and Zuko acknowledged them with a small nod. Her vision blurred and she blinked away the tears. "I don't know what I would've — I don't know — I would've died, Zuko. I wouldn't have been able to—"

Zuko cupped her face, his eyes fierce. "No," he said sharply. "No," he repeated more gently. "You would've fought because you are stronger than that."

Her bottom lip quivered. "I'm fourteen, Zuko. It's not fair. I didn't want…"

He hugged her close, drawing comfort from her warmth and the beat of her heart. "I know."

Zuko smoothed her tangled curls, shifting so they could recline side-by-side on the lounge. They drifted into a doze, Katara emotionally spent and Zuko physically drained. The sun had moved across the sky and its light bathed them in a comforting warmth when Zuko stirred again, sighing quietly. Katara's brow furrowed and she snuggled closer.

"Love you," he murmured.

"Glad to hear it, son," a vaguely familiar male voice said.

Katara rocked upright with a gasp, nearly falling backwards off the lounge in her haste to get away from Zuko. The firebender cringed as her rapid movements jarred his injuries and he reached out to catch Katara before she ended up on the balcony's marble floor.

"Dad!" Katara exclaimed, scrambling to her feet and launching herself toward her father.

Zuko moved with a great deal more care, rising to his feet and facing the older man. Indeed, Hakoda, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and Katara's father, had been casually leaning against the balcony rail and watching them for an unknown period of time. Zuko straightened, forcing his hand away from where he wanted to clutch at his wound though he knew it would make no difference in pain management. Hakoda hugged his daughter tightly and then held her out at arm's length to examine her for injuries. To Zuko's surprise, he received the same careful examination. The chief's brow wrinkled. "You should sit down before you fall down."

Zuko hesitated and then slowly sank back to the lounge. Falling on his face in a faint in front of another leader was not something he wanted to experience. "Chief Hakoda—"

Hakoda held up a hand, releasing Katara so she could take a seat next to him, speaking sternly, "Now, I'm not a man to enter another man's bedchamber, but General Iroh assured me you were awake and able to receive visitors."

"Yes, sir," Zuko said uncertainly.

Katara slipped a hand into his, smiling when he gave her an incredulous look. Hakoda folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. "I see we will have to have a discussion when you are fully recovered."

"Dad," Katara protested, frowning at him. "Have you seen Sokka?"

Both eyebrows went up, but Hakoda accepted the topic. "I saw him this morning. He's gone to 'perform a prison break' and has taken Aang and Toph with him."

Katara's fingers tensed in his hand and Zuko suppressed a groan. He'd warned Sokka that a prison break would be dangerous, not to mention nearly impossible. The older man grinned. "General Iroh assures me that the Warden is aware of their coming and will release the fair maiden with little difficulty."

"Let's hope so," Zuko muttered.

...........*.

It turned out, Zuko's doubts weren't entirely unreasonable. Sokka, Toph, and Aang returned with a slim Earth Kingdom girl in tow, all looking a little battered, bruised, and singed. It seemed that the Warden refused to acknowledge the end of the war, the transfer of power, and Iroh's orders to release the Boiling Rock's prisoners of war. Aang and Toph had to forcibly enforce the release orders and now several guards and the warden himself occupied cells in the prison in which they once worked, awaiting war crime trials.

Sozin's Comet arrived on the solstice during Zuko's convalescence, but with nearly all the generals removed from power and Iroh's iron grip on the remaining, it passed without incident — though the fireworks that night were more spectacular than any in living memory. Katara had joined Zuko on his balcony, accompanied by Aang and Toph — her brother had vanished somewhere with the Earth Kingdom girl — to watch the fireworks.

Three weeks after the cessation of hostilities, Iroh declared Zuko well enough and stepped down from his role as regent. The nobles remained stoically accepting of their fate, even if there were some derisive whispers regarding the new peace, the Fire Nation's apparent fall from power, and Zuko's supposed cowardice. Despite the rumors, no one seemed willing to challenge Zuko's right to rule.

The day of Zuko's coronation and assumption of powers dawned cloudless with the promise of being pleasantly warm. Breakfast was delivered to Zuko's rooms promptly, but he could only manage some tea before the nervous twisting of his stomach made the thought of food nauseating. His formal robes were laid out by the servants the night before and their presence only increased his apprehension. He almost collapsed in relief when Katara's knock came and she entered the room, her smile bright and cheerful.

"I didn't think you'd be alone," she commented as she approached him. Her eyes narrowed a little when he only shrugged. "Is something wrong? Your bandages—"

"They're fine," he interrupted. "It's nothing."

"I'm sure it's not nothing." Her lips pressed together and she looked at him thoughtfully. "Uncle said you might be pacing or escaping over the balcony so I said I'd come check on you."

"He did not," Zuko grumbled.

"Not in so many words," she agreed. "Do you want me to help you?"

H scowled at the robes before sighing. "It'd probably be easier with help. It's still…difficult to move in some ways."

"Well, first things first," Katara declared, "sit down. We'll get your hair out of the way."

He sank to a stool, watching in the mirror as she carefully gathered his hair. A few pins later and she stepped back to examine her work. She tucked a loose hair back into place, commenting, "I'm surprised your hair is long enough for this style, though it does need a bit of a trim to even it out when it's down."

"So does yours," Zuko said and then winced when her hand flew to her hair. She'd been keeping it pinned up most of the time to hide the ragged ends. "Sorry."

"You're right," she agreed, pulling her hand away from her hair and turning toward the formal robes. "We'll both have to have our hair done when things have settled. In the meantime, they're probably waiting for you."

With some instruction from Zuko, the robes were donned and without the distraction, Zuko's nerves returned. As if sensing his anxiety, Katara smiled at him and ran soothing hands down his arms. "It'll be fine. You'll do fine. Uncle will be there and Aang will be next to you. Just remember, he's twelve and has been in an iceberg for the last one hundred years and he's the Avatar." She paused, smirking slightly. "You're just the Fire Lord."

His expression told her he was less than impressed with her assessment. "Just—"

A brisk knock interrupted him and a guard entered. "They're ready for you, sir."

"That's my cue," she said, stretching to press her lips against Zuko's cheek. "I'll be sitting with my father. Remember what I said."

...........*.

The coronation ceremony had gone off without a hitch, much to Zuko's surprise. A part of him was still waiting for a disaster since he was never so lucky. Everything in his life inevitably fell to pieces. Despite his gloomy thoughts, events continued to proceed smoothly. The citizen of the capital were celebrating and the party — Iroh insisted it was a Coronation Ball — was relaxed and cheerful. Many of the nobles Zuko had known before his banishment were either absent or awaiting the war tribunals. To his astonishment, he'd already been approached by several noblemen seeking betrothal contracts. Bewildered, he was grateful Iroh stepped in and took the nobleman's arm, guiding him away from Zuko. "Lord Huojin! I believe your oldest daughter is only five, correct?"

Zuko made a face as he watched his uncle and Huojin walk away. Movement out of the corner of his eye brought his attention to yet another nobleman approaching and Zuko quickly made his retreat. He hadn't had a moment to himself since he left his rooms that morning and he was desperate for some time away from the crush of people.

The doors at the far end of the room opened out onto the terrace and the gardens and Zuko rapidly made his way for them. He dodged a few more attempts of people cornering him and slipped out the doors into the evening air. The terrace and gardens were sparsely occupied, most of the party preferring to remain in the ballroom, and the newly crowned Fire Lord quickly sought out the most private, secluded spot he could find.

Hidden behind several large, potted plants, Zuko felt the tension drain out of his shoulders. It'd been over three years since he last stood in the Fire Nation capital. For three years he'd attempted to gain his father's love and had nearly lost himself in the process. A strange sense of nostalgia struck. He hadn't realized just how free he'd been out in the world.

"There you are, Fire Lord."

Zuko stood from where he'd been leaning against the rail, hiding a wince. Katara may have been able to heal the wound relatively quickly, but it was still sensitive to sudden movements. She assured him that it was unlikely for him to tear the wound, providing he didn't charge into another Agni Kai. He resisted the urge to put his hand over the injury.

"Chief Hakoda."

Katara's father grinned and Zuko was moderately surprised to recognize where Sokka had inherited his grin. "Hakoda will do, Fire Lord. We are allies, after all."

Allies. When he'd been a boy he'd never thought he'd one day consider the Water Tribes allies. Hakoda came to stand next to him, folding his arms and gazing out at over the garden. Zuko wondered if the man had ever imagined he'd live to see the end of the war.

"General Iroh mentioned there was a civilian uprising here in the city," Hakoda said after a moment of silence.

Zuko examined the man's weathered features, his brow furrowing slightly. "Yes," he finally said, "mainly civilians from the slums. Uncle sent word to the Order of the White Lotus in the city. It surprised us — Katara and me. I did not expect — I'm grateful for their assistance."

"It is a good thing to remember that you only have power by the people's consent," Hakoda muttered. "After all, there are more of them than there are of you."

Zuko could only nod in response, unsure if the Water Tribe Chieftain was expecting an answer. Hakoda acknowledged his nod with one of his own and then seemed content to stand in silence, staring out into the darkness while Zuko tried to contain his restless discomfort.

"I knew I wanted to marry Kya the moment I laid eyes on her," Hakoda said suddenly. A smile tinged with amusement and sadness tugged at his mouth. "She was less than impressed with my attempts to woo her." He glanced at Zuko. "I threw snowballs at her. I also teased her mercilessly. In my defense, I was thirteen and an idiot. It took a lot of convincing when we were older for her to give me a chance."

"Father wanted mother because her great grandfather was the Avatar," Zuko muttered. "And she was beautiful."

He wondered of Hakoda heard the bitterness in his words. He felt the older man watching him and Zuko glanced away from the gardens. Just when Zuko was beginning to think the chief would say nothing more, Hakoda said, "I understand it is custom for nobility in the Fire Nation to have arranged marriages."

It wasn't really a question, but Zuko nodded. "I was banished before my contract could be signed and no father would want a dishonored, banished man to marry his daughter; even if he was a prince."

Hakoda turned away from the garden, blue eyes settling on Zuko with a piercing stare. The firebender returned the look, uncertain what the Water Tribe Chief was searching for. Finally, the older man nodded, saying, "Two years."

"What?" Zuko blurted, surprised. He grimaced and backtracked. "I mean, excuse me?"

"Katara will be sixteen," Hakoda elaborated. "I will discuss…a stronger alliance between our two countries in two years." He paused, lifting an eyebrow. "If you still feel such a course of action is desired."

The meaning of his words sank in and Zuko could only nod his agreement, saying faintly, "Oh, right. Two years."

The older man nodded, seemingly pleased with the conversation. "You're a fine young man, Fire Lord Zuko. I believe you will lead your people well."

"Thank you, sir."

"Zuko?" Katara called, stepping around the potted plants that blocked them from the rest of the terrace. She stopped short, staring in surprise at her father. "Dad! Is everything all right?"

Hakoda's weathered features wrinkled in a smile. "Everything is fine. I was just congratulating the new Fire Lord."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously but she couldn't detect any deceit. Her father winked. "I'll return to the party. Again, I look forward to the future, Fire Lord."

He slipped past her with a cheerful whistle and she could only stare after him in bemusement. Shaking her head, she crossed the space to where Zuko stood at the rail, choosing to instead attempt to divine her father's behavior from the firebender. "Are you sure everything's all right?"

Zuko nodded, stepping closer to her, mindful of the crowd not so far away. "Not yet," he allowed, "but it's getting there."

She smiled, leaning into him and looked out over the night-shrouded garden. Fireworks lit up the night sky overhead and the breeze brought the faint sound of cheers to them. Nine months ago, Katara had never imagined she'd be standing on a terrace in the Fire Nation and the world at peace. Zuko's fingertips skimmed the fabric of her sleeve and slipped between her fingers. She smiled into his eyes and stretched up on her toes to press her lips to his cheek. "You're right. It'll only get better from here."