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“Katara, we can’t wait on this,” Hakoda insisted, with a stubbornness that Aang recognized all too well. “I’ve already sent invitations to the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom. We’re having a conference this evening. I’d like you both to be there.”
Aang’s stomach lurched in a way it usually didn’t unless Appa had unexpectedly swerved to avoid a collision with a bird.
“Invitations? To send delegations of representatives, or…?”
“To the Fire Lord and the Earth King themselves. If the other nations are to regard the Southern Water Tribe as an equal partner, our Head Chieftain needs to be able to address their leaders as a peer. So I have—and they have accepted my invitation.”
“That’s… that’s great, Chief Hakoda,” Aang said mechanically, because he thought it was probably what he should say, as the Avatar.
Katara gave Aang an annoyed look. “I really wish you had waited until you were fully healed. And maybe consulted with us— er, with some other people…”
“The Mayor has assured me that she and the City Council are happy to host the other nations’ leaders and accept their assistance in rebuilding,” Hakoda said serenely. It was a subtle, graceful reminder: he was the Chieftain; Katara and Sokka, though their heroism in the war had earned them a place at the table, were still only his children, not his equals in authority.
They walked with him back to the Town Hall—slowly, as he still leaned on his cane and favored his wounded side. Katara chatted with her father—about people she’d known growing up, about Pakku and Gran-Gran, about the children who wouldn’t admit they were waterbenders—while Aang made generically interested noises and silently panicked beside them.
He thought he had been doing a reasonable job pretending to be paying attention until he heard Katara say sharply, “Aang. Aang! Are you okay?”
Following the arcaded pathways, they had arrived—finally—at a side door to the Town Hall. Katara and her father were both looking at him with concern, mixed in his case with mild puzzlement, in hers with irritation.
“What? Yeah, of course. Sorry, I was just… preoccupied.”
“Understandably,” Hakoda said kindly. “I’ll see you at the meeting this evening?”
“Of course, Head Chieftain,” Aang said with a respectful bow. Katara held the door open for her father and he limped inside.
“Seriously, Aang, are you doing all right?” Katara asked after the door closed behind him. “You’ve been miles away for the past five minutes, at least.”
“Sweetie,” Aang began, and his stomach twisted with guilt at the endearment. “Can I talk to you somewhere private?”
Katara’s frown looked increasingly confused and concerned. “It’s hard to find ‘somewhere private’ in a village like this… but maybe we can try to find an empty meeting room in there.” She nodded toward the door to the Town Hall.
“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Aang said, already feeling prematurely relieved. He knew his trials were only just beginning.
They walked past a number of closed doors, some of them with office nameplates that Aang thought seemed better suited to a heavily bureaucratic Earth Kingdom city like Ba Sing Se than to the South Pole. Eventually they came to a door that was slightly ajar; when Aang peered in, he confirmed that the room (a meeting room with a long rectangular table surrounded by chairs) was empty. There was a key in the lock on the inside of the door: it could be locked from the inside so that an important meeting would not be disturbed. Aang turned it, just in case.
“What’s going on, sweetie?” Katara asked, voice and eyes soft with sympathetic concern. Aang winced again with guilt to hear the word.
“Um,” he said, then cleared his throat pointlessly. “Something happened while I was in the Fire Nation dealing with the spirit disturbance. That wasn’t actually a spirit. Or, well, it didn’t just happen… it was something I did.”
Katara’s sympathy was curdling into annoyance again as he hemmed and hawed. “Spit it out, Aang,” she said, and the softness in her voice was starting to sound threatening.
So spit it out he did. “IkissedZuko,” he said, too loudly, all in a rush.
Katara was silent, uncomprehending, for a few moments that felt longer than they probably were. Then, finally, she burst out: “You what?!” It wasn’t a shriek, exactly, but Aang worried that the volume and pitch would carry halfway across town.
“We’d had a hard few days—weeks, really—and neither of us had gotten much sleep,” Aang said quickly, trying desperately (as he so often found himself doing in other situations) to put out the fire and minimize the damage. “I was trying to make him feel better about Mai and her new boyfriend…”
“By giving him a new boyfriend?” Katara’s voice was rising dangerously again in volume and pitch.
“No! No, of course not, I just… he said that before Mai got back together with him, he was afraid no one would want him. Because of his scar.”
“I would think that being the Fire Lord would enable a lot of people to look past that,” Katara said acidly.
“He wasn’t when Mai—” Not relevant; redirect. “And that was the whole point, that it doesn’t have to be a matter of looking past…” He stopped abruptly again: he wasn’t helping his situation here.
“So you kissed him to prove, what, that his scar is… is sexy?”
“No, I wasn’t trying to prove anything, it just sort of… happened.” Oh no, he was coming back to the passive language that he’d steered himself away from. “But I take full responsibility,” he added hurriedly. “It was my fault, and I’m really, really sorry, Katara.” He closed his eyes in pain and shame. “Can you forgive me?”
Katara was silent. Aang opened his eyes again and saw that her lips were pressed together tightly and her eyes dark and narrowed—with anger, yes, but also with hurt and betrayal. She sat down heavily in one of the chairs around the meeting table.
“Why are you just telling me this now?” Katara asked in a sharp, brittle voice.
I thought I might not tell you at all, Aang definitely wasn’t going to say. I’m starting to wonder again why I thought I had to, and maybe wish I hadn’t… But no, he was terrible at keeping secrets, and it just would have eaten away at him, and it would have come out eventually, and the longer it took the worse it would probably be.
“I— there wasn’t a good time. I came back in the middle of the festival, and then there was the attack, and your father was injured and you were so worried… but when he told us about the conference, I knew I had to say something.”
“Because Zuko will be here. And you were afraid… what? That he would say something? That something would happen again?”
“No! No, I just knew I would act weird, and you would ask, and I would have to either lie… or tell the truth. And I’d rather tell the truth now, so that this evening we can focus on making the best future possible for the Southern Water Tribe.”
Katara fell silent again, her lips tight and her expression worryingly, uncharacteristically inscrutable. Aang knew there wasn’t anything else he could say, so he just waited anxiously for her to speak, feeling as if his life rested in her hands.
“Well, I guess this means I have better impulse control than you do,” she said at last, unnervingly calm.
“What do you mean by that?” Aang asked cautiously.
“You think I’ve never been tempted to do the same thing?”
“You mean… kiss someone else, or Zuko specifically?”
“Him specifically. We had a… a powerful heart-to-heart in the Crystal Catacombs. He told me he’d also lost his mother because of the war… and I offered to heal his scar with the spirit water from the North Pole.”
“Would that have worked?” Aang asked with genuine curiosity, before he could stop himself. Again—very much not the point.
“I don’t know,” Katara said testily. “But I offered to try. It’s lucky I didn’t get the chance, because I needed the spirit water to save your life.”
“I know. And I’m so, so grateful to you, Katara…” And maybe healing the scar would have been the wrong way to help him, he didn’t say.
“And then, in the fight with Azula, he saved my life—he took a lightning bolt in the chest for me. And I saved his life by healing him with my bending. It was a very intimate bonding experience.”
“So… why didn’t you kiss him? If you were tempted.”
“Because I knew how you felt about me,” Katara said with a righteous air. She paused, then added in a more neutral tone, “And I think he might have been waiting for Mai. She had just given up her freedom to save him.”
“You didn’t have to hold back because of me,” Aang said, careful to sound conciliatory rather than self-justifying or accusing. “If you wanted him more… I would have respected that.”
Katara looked taken aback; that wasn’t the response she had been expecting. She blinked a few times, then sighed. “I didn’t know what I wanted. It took me a while to figure it out. I do know that I love you—more than anyone. Other than my family, of course.”
Is that an ‘of course’? I wouldn’t know, Aang thought, a little self-pitying. “I love you, too, Katara. More than anyone.”
“Then why did you…?” she began plaintively, then trailed off. “I’m trying to understand.”
Aang took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming and centering himself. It was very important that he answer this question both tactfully and truthfully. “Because I love Zuko, too. Not in the same way: I want to spend every day with you, for the rest of our lives—or as long as you can stand me.” He gave a sheepish smile, and was encouraged to see Katara’s lips twitch in return. “I miss you every day that we’re not together. And I don’t feel that way about Zuko. In fact, he can start to wear on me after a while—I need to take him in small doses, though he has mellowed with age. Still… there’s something magnetic about him. He attracts and repels, like he’s reversing polarity—”
“He does seem to ‘reverse polarity’ rather a lot, doesn’t he?” Katara muttered.
Aang chuckled ruefully, remembering. “But when he attracts, it’s… almost irresistibly powerful.”
He paused, waiting to see how Katara would react to that all-too-honest assessment. She flinched, her lips tightening again; but then, to his great relief, she nodded. “Believe me, I know.”
“And I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear… I find it especially hard to resist when I feel like someone needs me. This last time I saw him, it felt like he needed me.”
“No, I’m not surprised… and I know that feeling, too.” Katara sighed. “I don’t suppose I can ask you to promise it won’t happen again?”
Oh, that question was dangerous. If he and Katara didn’t know each other so well, he might have suspected it was a trap. But not only was he terrible at lying; he knew he couldn’t lie to her without endangering the sacred trust and understanding on which their relationship rested.
“I don’t know if I can promise that,” Aang confessed. “Not because I don’t treasure you and what we have together—I do, more than anything else in the world. But because a piece of iron can’t promise not to be drawn by a magnet. Because the tides can’t promise not to be changed by a more distant moon.”
Katara closed her eyes and put her fingers to her forehead, her face obscured by her hands. Aang bowed his head and waited for the axe blade to fall.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Katara said slowly, “If I say it’s all right for you to… do whatever you end up doing with Zuko, will you grant me the same allowance?”
Aang wasn’t sure he believed what he was hearing. He raised his head abruptly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… I’m also made of metal. And a moon’s orbit is also changed by another moon.”
“Hmm.” Aang rubbed a hand over his head. “Don’t you think we ought to run this proposal by Zuko before we agree on it?”
“Well, he will be here this evening.”
“Yes, yes he will.” Aang laughed nervously. “Won’t that be a fun conversation, right after the meeting about funding the reconstruction of the South Pole? ‘Excuse me, Your Fire Lordship, we were wondering if you would be interested in entering into ménage à trois…’”
“Excuse me?!”
“Oh, uh. That’s a Fire Nation expression. It doesn’t mean… what most people think it means. It’s just… an arrangement with three people who are. You know. Involved. But not necessarily. At the same time…”
“Oh, Aang, your face matches your cloak right now.”
“Yeah, it feels like it.”
Katara laughed, light and bubbly, and it was the most wonderful sound in the world. Aang felt enough weight lifted from him that he could float off the ground like a balloon, even without his glider.
“All right, sweetie, let’s get some lunch,” Katara suggested. “I think we’ll both feel better.”
The term of endearment still wrenched at his heart, but with overwhelming gratitude rather than guilt. “Yes, let’s. I could use something to settle my stomach.”
He moved toward the door, but Katara held out a hand to stop him, then beckoned him toward her. He obeyed; she stood and held out her open arms and he went into them. She was still a little taller than he was, and if he bent just a little he could bury his face in her shoulder.
“I forgive you,” she murmured into his ear.
“Thank you,” he said, the words muffled in the fur collar of her coat.
She kissed the top of his head, and he thought with another pang in his stomach of the kiss he had laid on Zuko’s forehead before nestling against his back to help him sleep. Should I tell her about that…? Maybe not now.
“Lunch,” Katara announced decisively, and Aang took that as his cue to extricate himself from her arms.
He approached the door, reaching for the key to unlock it, then paused. “Did you hear something?”
Katara frowned, confused. Not a sound, maybe; just a disturbance of the air coming in under the door, a vibration of the earth in the plaster walls…
He turned the key sharply and yanked the door open with some assistance from a gust of air he summoned from the other side. He heard rapidly retreating footsteps, leaned around the doorway toward the direction in which they were receding, and saw Sokka’s blue-clad back and stubby wolf’s tail.
Katara had emerged from the doorway and followed his gaze. “Sokka!!” she said sharply. Sokka froze. “Get back here.”
Aang turned to look at Katara’s furious, flashing glare… and spotted Toph leaning casually against the wall on the other side of the door, giving him a grin that he believed Sokka would describe as ‘shit-eating’.
“How long have you been listening?” he asked, resigned, at the very same time that Katara directed the same question threateningly at her brother. Seeing where Aang was addressing his question, she whirled around and gasped with shocked rage.
“Uh… for a while?” Sokka said, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Since Katara shrieked ‘You what?!’ ” Toph informed them cheerfully.
“I did not shriek,” Katara insisted. She was not helping her case. Toph’s grin widened to accommodate more shit.
“So you heard… just about everything,” Aang sighed.
“Yeah,” Sokka said with a sheepish smile. “Oh yeah,” Toph confirmed with no remorse whatsoever.
“What are you even doing here?” Katara demanded. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the construction site?”
“My lily-livers— my metalbenders almost got buried under an avalanche.”
“By which she means a big pile of snow that they didn’t clear safely,” Sokka clarified.
“I didn’t hear you giving them safety advice,” Toph griped.
“Anyway… she let them take a break and we escorted Malina back to Dad’s office. And then heard…”
“Katara’s shriek.”
“…sounds of discord.”
“So you decided to eavesdrop for, what, twenty minutes?” Katara huffed.
“Uh,” said Sokka.
“Damn right we did,” said Toph. “It was better than the play on Ember Island. Just needed some popped corn and fire flakes.”
“Toph, would you please stop trying to get me murdered?” Sokka moaned.
“I cannot believe you two,” Katara said, pitch and volume again rising precipitously.
“I can,” said Aang.
“Let’s all get lunch,” said Toph. “I actually did some work today and I’m starving.”
Katara gave an enraged growl but didn’t actually object. They all walked toward the exterior door.
“So, Zuko, huh?” Sokka said sotto voce to Aang, hanging back behind the girls. “I congratulate you, my lucky and talented friend.”
“Uh… what?”
“You know, Suki and I have also agreed that he’s our free pass.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we both agree that if one of us gets the opportunity, we should go for it and the other won’t complain. Well, except to be jealous that we didn’t get there first…”
“The opportunity?”
“You know.” Sokka elbowed him and winked.
Aang felt himself blushing furiously. “It was just a kiss, Sokka!”
“…for now.”
“Oh, spirits spare us.” Aang smacked himself in the forehead. “Is everyone attracted to Zuko and I just wasn’t aware of it?”
“We’re all just waiting for that life-changing field trip…”
“I never got mine,” Toph complained loudly from ahead of them.
“Blessed Avatar Yangchen on a lion-turtle…” Aang said.
“I would definitely hit that,” she continued, just in case it hadn’t been clear.
“You don’t even know what he looks like!” Katara protested.
“I don’t know what anyone looks like,” Toph pointed out. “It’s all about the magnetic energy and the adorable fits of rage.”
“Yeah, maybe don’t say that to him,” Sokka suggested.
“I can’t believe I’m related to you,” Katara said in disgust.
“Love you too, sis.”
And so, bickering fondly, they walked out into the polar sunlight glinting white off the snow.