katara

Rolling her head to the side, Ming opened an eye to look at Katara. In a matter of minutes the younger girl went from calm to bouncing off the nonexistent walls. She kept listening to the other chatter and finally she felt the same excitement Katara felt. It was actually a plausible idea from what Katara was getting at, and one that Aang liked. She rolled onto her stomach and sat up. “So, wait.” She held a hand up. 

“What you’re saying is that this is something we should look into? Because the book I was reading only mentioned it in a single sentence, and I have a feeling the government censorship would keep any other information under wraps as well.” She took a second to think about where they could find out more about the council… “I’ve got it!” She scrambled to her feet at the idea.

“Katara, the only place I can think of in Caldera that could possibly give more insight would be the Palace Library. There are thousands of books in there, but the only problem is the only person that I’ve ever seen in there was Azula.” When her brain finally caught up with her mouth, Ming registered Katara’s last question. “I think it could work. The Fire Lord would be a fool to not at least try, but the Earth King and Water Tribes… I don’t know if they’d go for it.” Feeling resigned to the fact that the idea was a long shot, she sat back down on the ground. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t try, right?” She wanted so badly to find a solution to the problem, and this was as close as she could get.

Katara nodded along with Ming’s words, pushing herself to her feet in excitement when the other girl hastily stood. “The Palace Library? I haven’t been there yet… but maybe I can ask Zuko to show me around it when he has some free time. I’m sure there are texts there dating back to before the government censor. And if anyone would know where they were kept, it would be Zuko.” Or possibly Azula, but Katara didn’t think that the Fire Princess would have necessarily been a reliable source of information—even if she hadn’t been currently imprisoned. “Zuko has his hands full right now… so I may not be able to search the library right away. However, as soon as I can, I’ll report back whatever I find, and then we can go from there.”

A half hearted smirk lifted the left corner of Ming’s mouth at the thought that Katara, the girl who was so open and honest with Ming, practically a stranger, would have a hard time trusting Zuko. It was one more thing the two girls have in common besides jewelry and dismissal of the bloodsuckers around lakes. “I can give him a chance, I suppose. I just hope he doesn’t disappoint.” The whole world, she could have added, but reframed. Katara probably knew that kind of pressure better than anyone, and Ming didn’t need to remind her.

At the other’s answer to her question, Ming couldn’t help but feel her mood and smirk fall. “Yeah, you’re right. The world is tough right now, that’s for sure. You’ve probably lived more life in three years than most people live in a lifetime. Take as much time beside the water as you need.” She felt a cramp in her leg, and decided to flatten out and lay down on the grass. Arms behind her head, she closed her eyes and soaked in the sun. She tried to calm her mind, think of happy things to brighten up the mood. “You probably know a little about politics, right? I read this thing in a history book about some sort of council between the four elements, how do you think that played out? I mean, what did they talk about before the war, the price of Komodo sausages?” She let out a little laugh, hoping Katara liked the joke.

Katara grinned, resting her chin against the arms wrapped around her knees. “A chance is all any of us can ask for.” The rest would fall on Zuko. She, too, hoped he wouldn’t disappoint. The waterbender could only trust that, like he had with the gang in the three (yes, very long and adventure-filled) years that they had known him, Zuko would ultimately win over his nation’s citizens.

“Sorry,” Aang said, laughing in a good-natured way. He knew he’d probably gotten way too excited, but, even though Sokka was the ideas guy, Katara had some pretty good ideas too. Anything she came up with would be useful. Zuko needed all the help he could get to quell the angry protesters. So, Aang went quiet and watched Katara eagerly, waiting for her idea.

He nodded as she spoke. She was right– everyone had demands and requests and stories they wanted to be heard, but change needed to start at the source, and the Fire Nation needed to be addressed first. But that crowd of protesters wasn’t just made up of Fire Nation civilians. Aang followed Katara’s gaze, and looked at the mixture of people standing together – Earth Nation, even some people from the Water Tribe. They weren’t all there about the council. They couldn’t be. They had other issues, other reasons for protesting. Katara was right – after the Fire Nation council, Zuko needed to look at healing the pain his forefathers had caused to other nations as well. But Aang knew that already. They all knew that, right? What was her idea?

She squeezed his hand, and Aang squeezed back, and met her gaze. A council of nations. As Katara spoke, she got louder, but Aang didn’t care. She was passionate – she always had been. She believed in what was right, and she wanted to change things, just like Zuko, just like he did. He didn’t say anything, or interrupt. He just let her talk, patiently waiting for her to finish voicing her idea. After a moment, he said, “We don’t know if Zuko’s thought of this, Katara. But it’s a good idea. A really good idea.” He smiled warmly, wanting to encourage her. “You’re right. This isn’t all Zuko’s responsibility. And I like the idea of having a representative from each nation. They could be chosen by the people, so it’s fair.” He looked into Katara’s eyes, not letting go of her hand, and smiled. “If I see Zuko before you, I’ll tell him your idea,” he said, firmly. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“Thanks, Aang,” Katara breathed, giving his hand one last squeeze before finally letting go. She meant it, too. Because though she felt deep down that the idea was a good one, she couldn’t help but have lingering doubts. The nations all on equal standing, working together to determine the next stages of this era of peace? Just a few weeks ago, when the Fire Nation was still under Ozai’s reign, the idea would have been laughable. In fact, in many ways, the idea was still a level of optimism that even Katara—someone who clung to hope in even the darkest moments—had difficulty maintaining. If they were to seriously consider undertaking such a large endeavor, it would take time and a whole lot of effort—two things that Zuko didn’t necessarily have much of right now with his hands full with his own nation’s calls for action.

“Perhaps we wait to mention it to him, though… At least a few days after all of this has died down?” Katara nodded her head toward the crowd once again, reminding him—and, more importantly, herself—that there were more pressing matters at hand. “I’m afraid this won’t be over when the protest ends,” she confessed, grimly. Actually, it didn’t seem like the protest itself would be over any time soon as more and more voices joined the fray. Frowning in concern, Katara turned her gaze back to Aang. “As much as I want to stay back here talking with you, it might be time for us to split up to keep a better eye on the crowd... Just in case we have to intervene if things start to get violent.” She really, really hoped that wouldn’t happen, but you could never be too careful. “I’ll meet up with you later, okay?”

“Of course,” Hahn nodded at the mention of the Northern waterbenders, letting out a nervous laugh. Okay, perhaps his effusive manner had been a bit much, but at least she hadn’t said anything about it. At most, she’d probably think he was an obsessive fanboy, which wasn’t that bad. At least it would have the desired effect of scaring her away without him actually having to scare her anyway, so he’d call it a small victory, misconceptions about his true emotions be damned– she’d probably be kinder to him if she thought he had an unrequited crush anyway.

Not that he hated her, though. Perhaps there was a tinge of jealousy, if he ever decided to be honest with his emotions, but apart from that, he didn’t think he had any particular strong feelings towards her. Just a preference for zero interaction with the war heroes, please and thank you; they reminded him too much of his own pains. It was nice to know that Katara actually knew the bounds of her own capabilities, though, unlike that nut-brained boy she called her older brother. Her maturity exceeded his by leaps and bounds, it was honestly a surprise to Hahn that they were related at all, much less that she was the younger of the two.

At the mention of her brother training with his army, Hahn could only offer a tight-lipped smile. “The warriors were definitely skilled, I knew some personally.” He couldn’t stop the small sense of pride blooming, flowers finding homes in the cracks of his ventricles, knowing that he’d had a hand at training some of their finest warriors. Knowing he had been one of them, even if it had only been for a blip on the grand scale of things. Even if some of the petals were tinged with sadness.

With a modicum of effort, he pushed the sullying thoughts out of his head space, disappointment beginning to fill its place. She didn’t give him much about the Fire Lord to go on, which he supposed was his cue to leave… if he could. He merely nodded at her questions muscles straining to keep his lips upturned. Ending the conversation there would have been rather awkward and extremely rude, so Hahn opted instead for a rather curt comment. “The food here is lovely.” He punctuated the sentence with a long pause, hoping the silence would be enough discomfort for Katara to let him go.

The young man’s short responses and drawn-out silences had their intended effect on Katara, who awkwardly shifted her stance. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that he was purposefully trying to rid himself of her. But that was silly… right? She had been nothing but pleasant, and it wasn’t like he was harboring some deep-seated grudge against her—being a total stranger and all. Either way, she couldn’t help but feel as awkward as she did the day before when she had tried to keep up a conversation with Zuko’s girlfriend, Mai, and had explained that Aang had been eating a bowl of raw lettuce because it was a “monk thing” before rushing off to potentially find him something “less leafy.” (Definitely not one of Katara’s finest moments…)

Forcing herself to keep her smile from slipping, the waterbender decided it was as good a time as any to take her leave and try to locate her friends. After all, the protesters were all gone. Her job here was done—not that she had really done much outside of sit and listen to the protesters speak, mind you. “Well, I should probably be heading back.” She gestured vaguely away from the Palace grounds. “I hope the rest of your stay here in the Fire Nation isn’t as… eventful as today has been, and that you get to actually enjoy it,” she stated, truly meaning the sentiment despite how awkward she now felt. “Oh, and do try those scallops if you get the chance!”

With one last friendly grin and a small wave, Katara turned away from the Northern Water Triber, her feet swiftly carrying her away. It wasn’t until she was safely around a corner, letting out a sigh of relief that she had escaped the awkward silence without saying anything too embarrassing, that she realized that he hadn’t even told her his name.

“You’re probably right, Katara. It’s just hard to trust him, when you know all of the bad things he can do. Didn’t it take time for you, too?” She didn’t know necessarily, but she had heard from the Ember Island Players play that Zuko had hunted her and Aang and some other people, and if that was true Ming had no idea how Katara did it. Trust was something that didn’t come easily to Ming, not anymore at least. She knew things about the Fire Nation that made her skin crawl, and in some ways she wished she’d been blissfully unaware of the whole thing. At least then she would have been happy.

But that wasn’t possible anymore. What had been done was done, and now everyone had to pick up the pieces of themselves and society, both tasks hard and sometimes impossible. She sat down on the ground then, patting the spot next to her as an invitation to Katara, and watched the water glisten in the daylight. “Has life always been this complicated, or do the Spirits just hate everyone?” She had her knees to her chest, and chin to her knees in a bit of a vulnerable position. It felt like the world was always one gentle breeze from caving in, and Ming couldn’t handle another rebuild. “You don’t have to answer that. But I do have a question I would like a response to: why are you out here on the Eastern Lake when you could be waterbending in the Palace garden?” She then looked over to Katara, waiting for a response.

Completely at odds with her previously serious demeanor, Katara suddenly let out a short bark of laughter at Ming’s first question. “Oh, you have no idea how long it even took me to stop hating his guts—let alone trust him!” The waterbender shook her head, clearly amused. “In fact, if you had told me a few years back that our enemy would one day become Aang’s firebending teacher and our friend, I wouldn’t have believed you,” she confessed, only willing to admit these things to Ming because they were the only two people crazy enough to be in the vicinity of this bug-infested lake… and because, well, she trusted the older girl. (Hopefully that trust wasn’t misplaced.) “I was only able to trust Zuko once he proved to me that he was worthy of my trust. But first, I had to give him the opportunity to prove it…” Like the Fire Nation citizens needed to do, she wanted to add. However, she knew that would be a bit too on the nose.

As soon as Katara said she’d be here to help, Aang felt himself relax. He hadn’t realised how much he needed her until she said she’d that. He knew it wasn’t fair – she’d already travelled across the world for him, and faced danger so many times – but he still needed her for whatever came next. She’d helped him so much. She squeezed his hand, and he wanted to throw his arms around her and hug her, but the protesters could still see them, and he had to act like the Avatar. Which meant no hugging his maybe-girlfriend. So he just grinned, looking at her so that only she could see.

“Yeah, we will,” he agreed, when she said they’d help Zuko. He liked that he could say we. He’d been afraid of her answer, afraid that, now the threat of Ozai had passed, Katara would want to go home to the Southern Water Tribe. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. If he could have gone back to the Southern Air Temple ruins again, just to see it – if he could have taken some time for himself – he would have done. But he couldn’t. Already, he could feel the responsibilities and pressures of being the Avatar weighing down on him. He’d defeated Ozai three days ago – he could still feel the heat of Ozai’s flames burning through his rock shield, melting it, and he could still hear the clear ringing of his energybending, clearly in his head. He’d only just saved the world, but his duties weren’t done, and he knew it. When he talked about them, he focused on building a better world for everyone, and bringing peace, like Zuko had said. But when he thought about everything he still had to do? He felt tired and sick and overwhelmed.

Katara asked if he planned to speak to Zuko, and said she had an idea, and Aang brightened up immediately. “You do?” he asked, excitedly. “That’s great! I knew you would!” He could always count on Katara to have a good idea. Aang just bounced from job to job, figuring out what he had to do as he went, but Katara planned ahead. He smiled at her, expecting some kind of miracle.

Katara chuckled behind her free hand. Just as she had been thinking about how much Aang had matured during their travels and the stress of the past few days, he practically turned into an otter penguin pup in his excitement. It was like someone had flipped a switch in the teenager the second she had mentioned that she could potentially have an idea. “Now don’t get too excited! I’m sure it’s nothing that Zuko hasn’t thought of himself,” she demurred. Though she hadn’t had the opportunity to personally speak with Zuko one-on-one since the fight with his sister, Katara was certain that he had plans to change the way his nation was run. In the time that he had spent with the gang teaching Aang firebending, Katara had grown to respect and to trust Zuko. She trusted that he would do the right thing by the Fire Nation as well.

“Right now his focus should be on the Fire Nation citizens and addressing their concerns,” Katara began, volume dropping in pitch to keep the conversation between the two of them. “But what about after his citizens’ needs are met? What about the citizens of the other nations? Will there just be more and more protests outside his gates?” She let her gaze trail over to the crowded streets, taking in the pitchforks and the shouts and the chaos. No, they couldn’t just leave their friend to fend for himself in a sea of discontent faced at the Fire Nation. “After Zuko addresses the concerns with his own Fire Nation council, I think we should propose something bigger.” 

Katara’s unexpected greeting had Hahn fumbling with a bow of his own, but more a consequence of a lack of practice than anything else. His angles were probably awkward, motions a little excessive, and stance slightly askew, but it was the heart that counted, no? Except… he didn’t think that was there either. He scoffed inwardly, rising after he felt like what was an acceptable time to convey his (nonexistent) respect for the teenager. She didn’t have to know that, though, he thought wryly, the smile of his face slowly widening into a grin. “Ah, it’s such an honour to meet an extremely skilled water bender like you,” he gushed, holding back the bile that threatened to bubble up his larynx. Even with the years of grovelling as a teenager, it never did get easier. But ingratiating with her especially? The sour taste in his mouth was particularly pungent. “I used to envy water benders.”

Chief Arnook? Well, she certainly wasn’t lacking in her arsenal of weapons, was she? If Hahn had been any more aggrieved, his eyes would probably have narrowed by then. Instead, they merely twitched, as he began to work on ripping away the new metaphorical ice knife she’d just driven into him, sealing whatever hole was left in its wake. He hadn’t spoken to Chief Arnook in years, shame practically consuming his entire being when he gave his resignation. And even as shame morphed into something akin to grit over the years, he’d simply kept his head low. There was little reason to continue with formalities anyway. It wasn’t like he would be Chief anymore: with Yue gone and his credibility lost, The Northern Water Tribe would never have accepted his leadership.

“Ah, I wish I could tell you!” he laughed as he pushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “I’m just a commoner who wanted to see the coronation with my own eyes… clearly wasn’t expecting this, though.” He gestured towards the now-serene landscape of the Palace grounds, and it would have been difficult to imagine how it could ever be decimated by an angry mob had it not just happened. “Fire Lord Zuko must be having a hard time now,” he mused out loud, looking up at domineering structure that stood before them. Perhaps she could give him insight into the current Fire Lord’s psyche– it would certainly sweeten this encounter with her.

Such an honor to meet an extremely skilled waterbender like her? Katara felt like he was laying it on a bit thick… but then again, maybe he just had an overly enthusiastic personality. (She’d give him the benefit of the doubt.) Feeling awkward at the gushing praise, she simply smiled in return. “Um… thanks. Calling it an ‘honor’ may be pushing it, though,” she confessed with a laugh. “There are just as skilled waterbenders in the Northern Water Tribe, if not more.” Sure, Katara was proud of her waterbending; her skills had come a long way in the years since she had left the Southern Water Tribe to travel with Aang. However, she would never be one to brag about her abilities—especially to a stranger. Besides, Katara had just as many non-bender friends who could hold their own equally as well in a fight. Her brother Sokka, for instance. 

Speaking of Sokka… “From what I saw during my time there, the Northern Water Tribe had extremely skilled warriors, too. My older brother trained with them for a bit.” The young man before her certainly looked like he could be a warrior, but Katara refrained from flat-out asking out of fear that she would unintentionally insult him. The Northern Water Tribe, though in many ways similar to her own tribe, had some fairly antiquated notions about things like who could learn to fight. Perhaps there was some (stupid) law that commoners, as he claimed to be himself, could not be warriors? After all, before she had come along, women couldn’t learn to use waterbending for fighting.

Watching the water droplets release themselves from her hair and face and settle into the lake, Ming felt amazed by the power of waterbending. In the course of minutes it had frightened and confused her, and yet again the impression it left shifted like the tide, making Ming appreciate the beauty and prowess of even the smallest of drops. Now that she was dry, Ming could smile at the other. “No need to apologize, I just got carried away by the surprise.” Ming focused on tying up her hair as she listened to the rest of what Katara said, but paused at the mention of yesterday.

Yesterday, she had not been herself, not at all. She had been a monster who terrorized the street with an angry mob, slanging the names of two people whose names had no place on her lips, and above all, she had made a mockery of her own name. In that moment, she wanted to hide away from the world, crawl into a hole and pity herself. But, instead she finished fixing her hair, and focused on keeping her voice even and her eyes on the ground. “Yeah, yesterday… I-” Sighing, she tried to look into the other’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. If I said anything that hurt you, and even if I didn’t, it was unacceptable and I should have kept my mouth shut.” Apologizes always felt harder than they should, especially when you felt worse afterward. But, it had to be done, especially if it felt wrong. Wasn’t that how you knew you needed to apologize? “I know Zuko is a friend of yours, and having met him personally, I can tell he’s a good person. I just think he’s too young to be doing this alone, and that counsel? He may not be naive, but I’ve witnessed how some of those guys act and… let’s just say deceit and lies are their specialties.” She had good intentions, it was true, and she hoped that Katara could see that.

Katara immediately shook her head at Ming’s words, gently dismissing the need for the other girl to apologize. It was starting to become a bit ironic. How many times now had one of them apologized to the other—only to turn around and reassure that no apology was needed—during their brief encounters? The waterbender wasn’t sure how they kept finding themselves in this constant back and forth dance, but she couldn’t help but feel fondly of Ming because of it. Despite what Ming felt that she had to apologize for now, Katara knew deep down that Ming was one of the good ones. Harsh (heart-felt) words spoken at a protest—even if they had been spoken against one of her friends—wouldn’t be enough to change that.

“Thank you, but you don’t owe me an apology… No one should have to apologize for voicing their opinion.” Katara smiled wryly, thinking of all the apologies she herself would owe if that were the case. “If the citizens of a nation don’t speak up and make their concerns known, how can anything ever change? It’s the responsibility of those in power to listen to and act on those concerns.” She looked out toward the lake once more, watching a single dragonfly flit across the surface. “Zuko is young,” she agreed, quietly, “but I know him well enough to know that he won’t try to do it alone.” And if he did try to do something that pig-headed, the rest of the gang was there to remind him of how bad of an idea that was—whether he wanted the reminder or not.

Being with Katara made everything feel better. Aang could ignore the crowd behind them, even if it was just for now. He felt calmer and safer immediately. But, when she said she was distracted by the crowd, his smile faded a little. “Yeah I know,” he said, seriously. He knew a lot of people were still angry, and they wanted justice, but this? When he thought about the work he still had to do – the weight of responsibility that still hung over his head – he wanted to run away, like he had at the Southern Air Temple. He knew that was wrong, and he’d never, ever, abandon his friends, and the people who needed him – not after what had happened – but it didn’t stop him from feeling it. He might have been a fully realised Avatar now, but he still felt sick when he thought about how many people were counting on him.

But, as bad as he felt, he knew it was probably nothing compared to what Zuko felt. He met Katara’s gaze. Part of him wanted to tell her that he didn’t know what he was planning to do – what should he do, as the Avatar? Should he go visit the Fire Nation colonies, and try to get them to leave Earth Kingdom territory? Should he stay here, and help Zuko deal with the requests of the Fire Nation people? Should he try to rebuild the crumbling, ruined, architectures of his people, and preserve the Air Nomad culture? In his heart, he knew what he wanted to do. What he had to do. And he nodded.

“Yes,” he said, and it felt like he was making his first real decision since defeating Ozai. “I’m gonna stay here and help Zuko.” He turned around to look at the crowd again, holding his glider like a staff. “You’re right, Katara. These people need a lot of healing. I can’t just leave it Zuko to deal with on his own. I’m the Avatar. I’ve gotta help him restore balance to the Fire Nation.” He’d let the coronation and the celebrations get to him, and he’d forgotten his duties. He turned back to Katara, and he had to ask. They hadn’t talked about it yet. His voice was softer, more nervous now. “What… what are you gonna do?” he asked, quietly.

Katara solemnly watched as Aang turned to survey the crowd with glider in hand, once again feeling a pang of regret in her chest that the world wasn’t a kinder place. Instead, it was greedy and demanding, always taking, and taking, and taking. It had taken Aang’s childhood. (It had taken all of their childhoods, if she were to be completely honest.) And now, when the war was finally over—when a well-earned rest was just within their reach—it came calling with further demands and responsibilities. And because Aang was the Avatar, he was expected to sacrifice everything once again to answer the world’s call. And because Aang was Aang, he would do it without complaint.

It was too much weight for one person to bare. Just as Katara knew that Zuko would need Aang’s help, she knew that Aang would need help, too. So when Aang turned back to her with the quiet question of what she would do, Katara’s answer sprung immediately to her lips without hesitation. “I’ll be here to help you.” She reached forward to give his free hand a reassuring squeeze, her expression still serious but not as solemn as it once was. “I may not be the great Avatar,” she shot him a small teasing grin, “but I can at least provide another perspective. We’ll help Zuko through this.” She was confident they would. And then after… after the fire was put out here in the Fire Nation capital (no pun intended), Katara would figure out what path her future would take. She couldn’t promise Aang that she would always be by his side, but she would at least remain there for now.

Of course it would be her, he thought bitterly, now only registering who it was in front of him. Katara: a fraction of the Avatar’s beloved ragtag team. He should have recognized her a mile away. He really should have, so he wouldn’t be in this awkward mess of a potentially disastrous situation. There was nothing he could do now, though, so Hahn figured he’d just have to suck it up and make this conversation as painless as possible. At her question, his brows furrowed slightly, more affronted than anything. He’d be lying to himself if it said that it didn’t feel like Katara had waterbended icicles and driven them straight into his heart, opening wounds of the past he’d sworn to keep sealed. Without a doubt, old thoughts had begun to spill out of the open cut now: he could feel them bubbling, threatening to overflow and consume his placid demeanor. How could she– every girl in the North was probably crazy about him! Had he not been worthy enough for her to remember him? Did his rank in the army mean nothing? (And, although he wasn’t willing to admit it in retrospect: was he not good looking enough?)

No, you’re better than this, he thought trying to coax whatever Katara had inadvertently dredged up back to where they had to be. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could only hope that his scrunched face looked more like one of intense concentration and recollection than of aggravation.

Feeling somewhat in control of his emotions once more, he relaxed his features, even putting on a small smile. Hahn considered lying, but she knew Sokka and… well, it wouldn’t turn out too well if she found out she’d been lied to, would it now? He settled instead for vague truths. “Maybe? Don’t think we ever formally met, but… I was from the Northern Water Tribe,” he shrugged, omitting as much detail as possible. If luck was on his side, maybe she’d get called to do her ’hero duties’ (words laced with as much derision as he could possibly muster in an internal musing) before she’d even get the chance to ask about his past.

So he was from the Northern Water Tribe. Relief washed over Katara at the knowledge that she hadn’t been completely mistaken and made an utter fool of herself by addressing a total stranger. Not that she minded talking to strangers, usually, but she couldn’t help but feel that the tail end of a protest—where tensions were still running high—was perhaps neither the appropriate time nor place to be questioning an innocent bystander. (Even though the question of whether they had previously met was harmless by most standards.) The waterbender still felt like there was something she was forgetting—some memory lurking just beyond her reach—but she mentally put a pin in that to consider at a later time.

“That must be it! I spent some time in the Northern Water Tribe a while back, training under Master Pakku… with the Avatar.” Katara always felt awkward saying those words aloud—with the Avatar—however it was the one thing that people tended to remember. By herself? She was just some teenage girl from the Southern Water Tribe who could waterbend. She wasn’t remarkable or particularly memorable. But put into the context of being one of Aang’s companions? Suddenly people considered her to be a hero. Not for the first time, she wondered if her identity would always be defined by her friendship with the Avatar… but immediately felt the sharp pang of guilt that followed that train of thought. After all, she knew she was lucky to count Aang as a friend and to have had the privilege to accompany him on his journeys.

Aang saw Katara standing by herself. He wanted to go over to her straight away, but he knew he had to calm the crowd first. He couldn’t just run over to her. He stayed where he was, holding his glider like a staff, in case anyone wanted to talk to him. He had to do his Avatar thing, right? And listen to people’s concerns? The problem was, he didn’t even know why everyone was so angry. He’d been afraid people would protest but he thought they’d be people who supported Ozai, people who didn’t want Zuko as the new Fire Lord. Or maybe, they’d be people who had requests for reforms. But, as he looked around the crowd, he saw a lot of people he recognised from Zuko’s coronation party. And people were shouting for change and justice. How could Zuko change three generations of tyranny in a few days?

Everyone seemed happy to stand and talk to each other. Nobody wanted the Avatar’s help. Feeling kind of awkward, Aang took a few steps to the side. No one stopped him. So, he walked over to Katara quickly. He needed to see her, to talk to her. He felt bad, abandoning the crowd like this, but they obviously didn’t want another speech. And it wasn’t his place to speak. It was Zuko’s, as Fire Lord, and Zuko had said everything that needed to be said.

“Katara!” he said, relieved. She looked like she was deep in thought, and Aang waved at her as he approached. “It’s so good to see you.” He didn’t wanna hug her, in case the protestor’s saw, and said something. Was that dumb? Probably. But he wanted to look ethereal and Avatar-y, so he stood with his back straight, and his glider clutched in one hand. “Did you… uh… see Zuko and me?” he asked. What he really wanted to know was if she’d seen the protester’s yelling at him, but that sounded a little on the nose, so he just smiled. It was easier to relax, now he had his back to the crowd.

At the sound of her name being called, Katara dragged her gaze away from the protesters, blinking as though waking from a dream. Though she should have expected that he would find her within the crowd, she was still surprised to see the Avatar suddenly standing before her. “Aang,” she breathed, reaching out to gently place a hand on his arm. Without even realizing she was doing it, Katara gave him a quick glance over to ensure that no harm had befallen him as he had made his way through the crowd to her. Though the teenager in front of her had defeated Ozai and saved the entire world, she couldn’t help but still feel protective over him even now. (It seems old habits truly did die hard.) Satisfied that he was safe and sound, she returned his smile. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Dropping her hand from his arm, Katara nodded, her smile turning solemn. “Yes… but I was a bit more distracted by the crowd.” She slowly shook her head. “I mean, we knew there was the potential for protesting, but I never imagined it would be like this.” She gestured a hand to the scene before them. Though some citizens had evidently been pacified by Aang and Zuko’s speeches and had dispersed, the majority of the crowd seemed to be just more incensed than before. “There is a lot of healing that will need to be done here. Not just between the Fire Nation and the people of the nations it wronged, but also between the Fire Nation and its own people.” She let out a slow sigh, blowing a few strands of hair away from her face. “Zuko is going to need all the help he can get.”