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@zutaraweek (also on fanfiction.net under label “Shades of Tenderness”)
Seven long years had gone by since the gaang had been together properly.
Aang had gone on something of a long spiritual journey only stopping by here and there on his travels to catch up with some of his friends. He had grown a bead which he was very proud of. Sokka may have ribbed him once or twice about it, but he was trying to grow one of his own, so perhaps it was more jealousy than anything.
Toph had joined Aang on some of his travels and their bond had seemed to grow – almost evolving into something else. But Toph was not the touchy-feely sharing kind, so she didn’t give any details. If she felt the group should know, she would let them know. Aang, to his credit, seemed to share her feelings, but it must have been difficult to express knowing how Toph would react.
Sokka and Suki didn’t stop by the Fire Nation very often but they did keep in touch. They attended the annual World Summit involving the main leaders of all four nations. Sokka, as new chief of the Southern Water Tribe, was always in attendance. Suki balanced their youngest on her hip as she watched Sokka entertain their two other children with some story about a daring escape or something.
A lot had certainly changed for all of them.
“You seem far away,” said Zuko, settling down beside her and pressing a soft kiss to her temple thus drawing her back to the present.
She smiled up at her husband and then down at their child who beamed back. Long brown hair like hers cascaded down the child’s little shoulders. A few wisps had somehow come loose from her bun obscuring bright and curious amber eyes. She looked quizzically up at her mother who tucked her hair gently behind her ear.
Yen was a beautiful reminder of all they had come to share; all the heartache, sorrow, joy, laughter… she was the culmination of their destinies.
“I was just thinking about the past,” she replied in a wistful voice, “We’ve come a long way to get here, haven’t we?”
Zuko looked out across the banquet table and through the rest of the hall. The Solstice Feast had begun a few short years after Ozai’s defeat as a way to further strengthen the cultural ties of the four nations. Once every summer and winter solstice, everyone came together to celebrate their cultures and to appreciate those of their neighbours. While their friends had been busy travelling across the continents dealing with their own lives and new responsibilities, it was nice to see everyone together again, hale and hearty.
“We have indeed,” he responded and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
“Ew, get a room you two!” said Toph in a too loud voice. “Even I don’t want to see that.”
That cause a ripple of laughter across the table. The moment was lost, but the celebration wasn’t over. It was a day of celebration for one and all.
The last time everyone had been together, on this day of the Summer Solstice, Zuko and Katara had pledged their lives to one another in tandem with the celebration of the nations coming together. And here they all were, all that time later. It was truly a blessing.
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
The feast was finally over. Ot had taken a lot out of the Fire Lord and his lady.
Even Yen was properly tuckered out and sleeping soundly in her cot in the nursery.
Having completed their preparations for the evening, Zuko and Katara sat side by side on their bed appreciating the silence and enjoying each other’s company.
“Seven years,” he said echoing her earlier thoughts.
“Of a lot of things,” she mused and turned to face him.
“Of many, many, many more to come,” he said punctuating each word with a kiss.
She laughed and framed his face with her hands. A soft smile played on her lips as she drew his face to hers and gently rubbed their noses together.
“I love you,” she whispered.
His reply was lost in their consequent kiss. But she knew what he felt. Because when he wasn’t saying it, he was showing it. And he was right. They had many, many more years of love and laughter ahead of them.
While searching the palace for bandages after the Agni Kai, Katara finds an old souvenir hidden away in Zuko’s belongings.
The palace isn’t what she expects.
It’s enormous and lavish, of course. Gilded trims and flourishes adorn almost every surface, and the cavernous rooms seem to stretch on forever. The empty darkness, the copious ornamentation in red and gold, all of that suits her idea of his family perfectly.
But Zuko’s room, despite the opulence, is almost bare. After Katara helps him to his bed, she sets to work digging for something, anything, that she can use to bandage the wound in the middle of his chest. Still, though she opens one drawer after another and pokes her head into every cabinet she can find, there is nothing but more empty wooden shelves.
Everyone seems to know that Zuko and Katara plan to get married someday. The only question left is when they’ll finally get around to it.
For what feels like the dozenth time in a row, Zuko checks his own pocket. In his thick polar leopard fur parka, even a set of solid gold hair beads and combs is small enough, light enough to feel insubstantial. Still, he is aware of its presence. Almost too aware of it at times.
“I’m surprised the two of you haven’t gotten this all settled before now.” There is a familiar look in Hakoda’s eyes, the same one that Uncle gives him every time the subject of marriage comes up. A look of curiosity and impatience that usually comes just before another casual inquiry about when Zuko plans to marry Katara. But Hakoda isn’t quite as pushy as Uncle. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d decided to elope before you made it back to the South Pole.”
Her fingertips brush gently across the smooth carved oak surface of the armoire. Each perfectly chosen chisel stroke contributes to the comforting flow of her room. Her eyes drift through the rest of the space; the woodwork meanders like water, curving, ebbing, and eddying throughout the artistry of each piece of furniture. A wardrobe of similar craft sits next to the window. Thick dark curtains are pulled back to let in the evening’s moonlight. Atop luxurious surfaces live small paintings, snapshots of moments in time. The sight of her father, brother, and grandmother’s images ignite her smile. She lets out a contented sigh as her eyes fall on the final frame, a depiction of her husband and two children in front of a beach house.
A stack of carelessly thrown, yet still organized sun hats rest on the corner chair next to the dressing mirror. A light nightgown hangs from there, perched beside its reflection, discarded until its duty is next called. Her smile diminishes marginally as her eyes pan through the rest of the space, realizing the empty feeling in the room filled with things.
Journeying out from the room, she is surrounded by ornamental purple silks mingled with reds and some blues decorating the walls. Adopting a leisurely pace while traversing the halls, she recalls the recently changed aesthetic. Gone is the darkness and overbearing decoration, in favor of more open space, room to breathe. The hallways are more well-lit and brighter, such a change from the dark overbearing presence the place held when she first arrived.
Stopping before a large set of doors, she thinks back. She’s called many places around the world temporary houses, from the South and North Poles, to the back of Appa, to a house in the upper ring of the Earth Kingdom. She frowns at the lack of permanence any of them held.
Pushing the doors open, she is greeted by streams of cool moonlight filtering through the yet unblossomed fruit trees of the gardens. Walking out toward the glistening pool that houses her husband’s favorite small animal friends, she hears laughter and giggling floating across the garden. The sound is contagious, and she finds herself smiling as she rounds the corner.
The familiar voice of her love calls out to her, “Katara?”
It is followed quickly by excited yelps and screeches as her children cry out “Mom!”
She feels her cheek muscles stretch and begin to hurt as her kids rush over and hug her. She closes her eyes and takes in the feeling, drinking it in as if it would disappear the next moment.
The strong arms of the Fire Lord embrace her as he looks at her questioningly. “Weren’t you supposed to be in Ba Sing Se until next week?”
She gazes back into his golden eyes and leans into his hug. “We finished up business early.” Giving only a momentary pause, she places a loving peck on his lips. “Besides, I missed all of you. I missed this place. I missed home.”
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