Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

–Azula.

She had never heard Aang speak in such a serious tone, so Azula stopped drawing and looked at him.

Aang didn't look well; that was her first thought when he appeared that night. His eyes looked tired and anxious, and there was a nervous energy in his body that prevented him from relaxing for more than a minute without seeming to remember something and becoming restless again. Azula tried to distract him as best she could for the first hour, but asking him to make clay figures stopped working when Aang decided he had too many and that they should do something else.

Unfortunately, drawing was no longer working as a distraction.

“Do you like the palace?”

The question baffled her because of how stupid it was. “No.”

Aang's eyes widened a little, seeming surprised by her easy admission. “Oh, well. Would you miss it? If you ever left.”

She thinks about that. Would she miss her home if she ever left? The big walls? The tense, silent servants, like mice? The clear, suffocating presence of her grandfather, never physically present but still there in some way she would never understand? Would she miss this bedroom? The one where she had cried so much, screamed and felt like she was drowning without anyone hearing her before Aang arrived?

She... doesn't know.

“I don't know, but I don't think so,” she murmured after long seconds of deliberation. Aang nodded, not pressing her for a more concise answer.

“I'm undecided, Azula,” Aang admitted after a moment of silence.

She looked at him curiously. “About what?”

“I... plan to take Zuko away when he turns five in few weeks.”

The news caused a pang of fear in her chest, her breathing stopped, and for a moment it was as if the world had lost its color and sound. The only tangible thing was the terror and anxiety growing in her chest and causing a lump in her throat.

Would Aang take Zuko and leave her alone?

Was she... not important?

“And I want you to come with me.”

Her head jerks up; she hadn't even noticed when she had lowered it.

“Huh?”

Aang... Does Aang still love her? Does he want her to go with him?

Her eyes sting in a stupid and familiar way; she knows that happens when she's about to shed stupid tears. Normally, Azula would do anything to avoid it, but this time she does nothing to stop them.

Aang continues to stammer, his hand scratching the back of his neck nervously, his eyes not looking at her, too lost in his thoughts to notice her sudden changes. “...And I don't want to force you or pressure you or anything, Azula, but I'd really be happy if...”

She stops Aang's stupid talk by jumping on him in tears. Aang lets out a muffled scream and holds her, trying to regain his balance and prevent them from falling to the ground. “Azula?” he blurts out, confused and concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yes! I want to go with you and Zuzu!”

Aang says nothing for a long moment, and Azula uses this silence to snuggle into Aang's chest. She can't help the big smile that spreads across her face, and she doesn't bother to try. Joy bursts from her chest in waves.

Aang loves her!

Aang's arms around her finally tighten and pull her close to him.

There is something wet on her shoulder, and she doesn't mind. She knows that Aang is not crying out of sadness, but out of joy, just like her. For once, she won't tease Aang for looking ugly when he cries, mainly because she can't see him.

“That's... great, Azula,” he murmurs against her head. “Thank you, thank you, you won't regret it, I promise.”

She doesn't think there's any way to do that, but she nods to assure Aang that she understands.

—

“Aang, why don't you like Mom?”

The abrupt question broke the pleasant silence that had grown thicker until that moment. Zuko looks reproachfully at his sister, who stares back at him fervently, challenging him to scold her.

Aang coughs a little, taken by surprise and not knowing how to respond immediately. “Who told you that?” Aang looks at him briefly, silently asking if it was him. Zuko shakes his head vehemently, not knowing where Azula got that from.

Azula snorts. “I'm not blind. Every time you watch us in the courtyard from your tree, you always look at Mom with that face like she did something bad. And when I mention her, you always seem a little tense.”

Zuko can't say anything in response to his sister'accusation. He's not blind either; he's also noticed that Aang doesn't seem to have the best impression of his mother. However, he never said anything bad about her, apart from a strange look or two.

The older boy shakes his head. “I have nothing against Ursa, Azula. She's fine.” He knows that Aang is forcing his voice to sound casual and calm, as if this subject doesn't bother him, but Zuko easily notices the lie.

It must affect him deeply if he can't fake it well, Zuko thinks.

Azula isn't fooled either. “You said you wouldn't lie,” she points out angrily. Aang looks at her with pure exhaustion.

“I have nothing against Ursa, I swear, Azula.” He pauses, debating whether to continue. “It's complicated, but I don't dislike her or anything, she... she's nothing to me, I hardly know her.”

Azula opens her mouth, looking ready to argue, but Zuko stares at her intently, trying to tell her with his eyes to stop and back down. Luckily for him, and to his confusion, his sister obeys him for once and rolls her eyes, snorting and making a disgruntled face but saying nothing more.

Aang, standing next to him, sighs with relief at being able to drop the subject, but there is some uncertainty.

“I'm sorry, Azula. These aren't things I should be discussing with young children.”

Azula looks at him, puzzled. “But you're a child.”

“Yes, but not a small child, and that's a big difference.”

Later that night, after leaving Azula's room, Aang says goodbye.

“I'll be back in a week and a half,” he promises. “Just a few days before your birthday, okay?”

He nods with a smile and dismisses him with a wave of his hand. Aang is about to jump off the balcony and leave, but he can't help calling out to him.

“Aang?”

Aang turns around, curious. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

It's now or never, he thinks, trying to encourage himself. “Is it because Mom doesn't stand up to Dad? The reason you don't like her”

The question takes him by surprise, as seen in the way his breathing stops for a moment. However, he hesitates.

“No, Zuko. She... I don't know, it's complicated and I don't know how I feel about her, but I don't dislike her for that.”

He nods and doesn't press further. “It's just... Mom is like Lala and me, she's as terrified of Dad as we are. And... she tries to take care of us, but I think sometimes her fear gets in the way, but it's not her fault.”

There is something painful in Aang when he says that, but he doesn't argue as he thought he would.

“Yes, I understand,” Aang assured him, then a flash of hesitation crossed his face before he said, “Tell me, if your mom could leave and forget about her life here, including you guys, how would you feel?”

Minutes pass, long minutes where he tries to understand Aang's question. How would he feel if his mother decided to forget about them?

“Would she forget about dad too?”

The question takes Aang by surprise, but he nods anyway.

His eyes relax a little. “I think it's okay,” he murmurs, even though the idea makes him sad and fills him with the urge to cry. “If I had the chance, I think I would do it too. Azula would too. And mom spends more time with him than we do, so it must be worse for mom, right?”

Aang seems to want to argue, but he says nothing. There is something in his eyes, conflict, he thinks. Aang doesn't seem to know what to think of his answer or his mother.

“I hope you don't hate her, Aang. Mom does everything she can.”

The older boy doesn't respond to that, he just says, “Goodbye, Zuko. See you in a few weeks.”

And with that, he leaves. Zuko watches him go in silence, wondering why Aang seemed so guilty.

—

Kya watches Aang closely before allowing her eyes to wander to observe the rustic landscape that was her small village from the small hole in her igloo that simulated a window, covered by thick skins that blocked the window so that not too much outside air could enter.

With Aang there, her village was no longer so rustic. With his control over all the elements, the dome that surrounded and protected them was just one of the many things Aang had given them to improve their lifestyle. From cozier and larger igloos, to the large bonfire they had in the center of the village that never went out or weakened even in the absence of the avatar himself, to the materials he brought from the rest of the world, reconnecting them with the earth kingdom and forming a safe and discreet trade route so they could exchange, sell, buy, and, well, connect with the rest of the world and somehow remain part of it without fear that the Fire Nation might attack them.

With all these things given and more, she doesn't think they can ever repay the boy for all he has done for them, even at his young age of twelve and a half (twelve years, she thinks sadly, the boy has spent five, almost six, long years with them, and he is still as young as the day she met him, if a little more tired).

Of course, Aang has never interfered with their way of doing things. He has granted them things to move forward quickly, but he has made it clear that it was their decision what they would do with this and in which direction they would go. Aang established safe trade routes, but did not urge them to use them. Aang granted a safe dome, but never insisted on how it should be built internally or how the residents should manage life within it.

Aang didn't impose his ideas or culture on the tribe. Kya sometimes wishes he would do so a little, at least to comfort the boy.

At first, when Aang suddenly appeared in their lives, everyone in his tribe was suspicious of him, watching him with fear and caution. Outsiders in his tribe were always trouble, and his tribe didn't have the strength to deal with trouble at that time.

Aang came into their lives just a year after she married Hakoda, and he barely knew them when he became attached to them like a baby polar bear cub clings to its mother from the very first moment. Hakoda tried to scare him away by acting tough, and Kya avoided him as much as possible, but Aang stubbornly clung to them and followed them everywhere with his big, childlike eyes.

Her chest tightens at the sight of the exhaustion, sorrow, and pain in those eyes at such a young age. Even when the child clung to their clothes for security and looked at them with blind trust in his eyes, there was something about him that made him seem older, wiser, larger than life itself.

She wonders how much it must hurt. If it hurt her just to look at him, how must it feel to live it? Aang is just a child trapped in his twelve years in a small body, and she shudders to think how much it must hurt to endure everything Aang endures in such a small vessel.

Eventually, they gave in and decided that if Aang was going to follow them everywhere like a lost puppy, he might as well live with them and not be alone in that tiny little igloo that he had absentmindedly built for himself when the elders insisted that he should have a place to rest.

Kya remembers despising that little igloo. Aang had put so much effort into giving them all the help and comforts possible to ease the change of home that the tribe had to endure in order to be safer and more protected. However, when it came to him, he barely made an effort to try to make what would be his home somewhat comfortable. To be honest, he put much more effort into the stable he built for his sky bison; at least there was heating there.

Yes, with all that, Hakoda and Kya decided that the boy would live with them if he was unable to take care of himself.

So much has happened since then. Kya is getting older and will soon be twenty-eight. She has a tribe that is thriving better than ever under the care and love of its people and the constant help of a boy who saw in them something more than 'savages’ or ‘backward people’. She has a wonderful husband who is a loving father, a good companion, and a wise leader.

And above all, she thinks fondly as she watches the pile of blankets and limbs curled up near the small fire in her igloo, three wonderful children. Her intelligent and astute two-year-old daughter, her brave and stubborn son, who just turned five three months ago, and her patient and kind twelve-year-old son.

They are all her greatest pride.

Aang's eyes flicker as he wakes up groggily from a long nap he fell into after trying to calm his siblings and put them to sleep, falling right into the trap set by Sokka and Katara, who were trying to tire him out and force him to sleep since they all knew that Aang was a 'dream escapist'.

Soon Aang noticed her presence and tried to sit up, but the weight of Katara and Sokka together forced him to remain lying down.

She smiled fondly. “Did you sleep well?”

Aang shook his head, she could see him holding back a pout, as he considered the action too childish for him.

“The idea was for them to sleep,” he complained.

She chuckled. “I think their idea was for everyone to sleep.”

It wasn't really Katara and Sokka's idea. If Kya had to bet, she would bet that Hakoda may or may not have had something to do with that plan. Hakoda is always the one who forces Aang to rest, even if it's by unconventional methods.

“Still, it'll do you good,” she tries to convince him, reassure him. She knows how quickly Aang can become distressed if he feels he has failed. “Especially so close to the big day. Are you excited?”

She expected a smile that matched the sun, not a grimace full of worry and conflict.

Aang has been waiting for this day for years. The day when he could finally take the boy, Zuko, away from his horrible father, who also happens to be the prince of the Fire Nation. The idea has long since ceased to frighten or make her nervous, perhaps because she is certain that the prince of the Fire Nation, Ozai, would look everywhere but here.

So, why did Aang seem so conflicted?

“Aang?”

Aang's head remains bowed, but she can see him wringing his hands as he often does when guilt eats away at him. She approaches carefully, trying not to startle him, and sits down next to the pile of blankets in which Aang is trapped.

“I don't know what to do.”

She blinks, confused. “About what?” Something in her hesitates. “You don't know whether to take Zuko with you?”

Aang shakes his head vigorously, his eyes flashing with determination for a second before weakening and returning to uncertainty. “No, no, I'll take Zuko, there's no question about that...” He pauses for a moment, hesitant, before taking a breath and continuing, “I'm not sure about... everything else.”

She nods even though she doesn't quite understand what he means. "What is everything else? Is it about the girl, Azula? You know it's okay to bring her, we already discussed this. No one has a problem with that."

And if the elders decide it is a problem, well, Kya and Hakoda are more than enough to convince them that it really isn't.

Aang nods, but guilt is consuming him, she can feel it, it's almost palpable in the air. She wonders if all airbenders do this unconsciously, changing the atmosphere according to their emotional state, however slight the change may be.

She'll never know, she thinks bitterly, Aang, her little one, is the last of them.

"It's just... everything has always been so clear. I've always known who the enemy was and who wasn't, the instinct to know whether I'm on the right path or not. Knowing who is safe and who isn't, but lately... I wonder how much of that instinct, of that knowledge, is impartial and how much is clouded by prejudice."

Oh, she realizes, this is about the future. About Aang's knowledge of the future regarding certain people, such as his children, for example.

The secret that Kya and Hakoda swore to take to their graves three years ago, after Aang, in a panic attack too big and too uncontrollable, confessed his memories of future events with tears in his eyes and a throat torn by sobs and muffled apologies.

If Hakoda or she had known about this the first year they met him, they would have kicked Aang out of the village, or at least branded him as crazy. But by the third year, Aang was too intertwined in their lives, too attached to them. Aang was family, their first child even before they knew it, and by then, the resentment or fear they must have felt was replaced by concern and sympathy.

No matter what happened, Aang was still family, their son.

She placed a soft, gentle hand on Aang's shoulder, who shuddered before bowing to the touch. Kya always wondered when was the last time an adult touched this child, when was the last time someone cradled him in their arms or at least comforted him before Hakoda or she came into his life.

It's a stupid question, she knows how long; a hundred years. Maybe more, it's impossible to know how long Aang spent in those 'dreams' about the future, it could have been a second or hundreds of years.

“What are you doubting?” Who is Aang doubting? The boy has always held his ideals close to his heart and firmly in his mind. People who were dear to him or important to his loved ones were a priority and treated well, while traitors or enemies were met with nothing more than his disdain. Aang has always been clear about who deserved his help and who didn't

Aang looks away and seems like an embarrassed child.

“Ursa,” he confesses.

Her hand, which was caressing Aang's shoulder, stops. She did not expect that name. “Zuko's mother?”

She didn't expect it to be her, among all the names Aang always repeated on especially bad days as if it were a kind of mantra or reminder. As if he were reminding himself who he was fighting for and who he was fighting against.

Ursa wasn't a woman she had a good opinion of, but she could admit that she had only heard things from Aang, who might not be so impartial with people he disliked. Besides, Aang was still a child, even if he didn't always act like one.

She leans down and gently moves Sokka, freeing Aang and urging him to sit up. The boy does so carefully and moves closer to her, curling up against her shoulder. Kya wraps her arm around him and lets him sink further into her side.

“I thought she wasn't a good mother, or at least not one who cared deeply about her children's well-being,” she said softly, removing any accusation from her tone, yet Aang shuddered and could see the guilt twisting more.

“She's not bad,” he murmurs, almost sounding reluctant. “She's not bad,” he repeats, more convinced.

“No, she's not bad, you never said that,” she reassures him.

Aang now looks even more guilty. “But I said she was a bad mother.”

He grimaces. Aang didn't say that specifically, but from what he said about her, it could be implied. “You didn't say that, but something like it.” “She's not bad,” he murmured, sounding almost reluctant. “She's not bad,” he repeated, more convincingly.

“No, she's not bad, you never said that,” she reassures him.

Aang now seems more guilty. “But I said she was a bad mother.”

She grimaces. Aang didn't say that specifically, but from what he said about her, it could be understood that way. “You didn't say that, but i guess you did say something like that.”

“It's just... things seemed so clear at the time...” explains Aang, his hands trembling. “I still feel that way sometimes. And Ursa... I always thought she was a horrible, horrible mother. I thought she wouldn't care about leaving her children behind if it meant saving herself and having her perfect life.” He pauses for a moment, taking a breath and trying to sort out his feelings. “She did that in her other life! She left them and forgot them willingly! That destroyed Zuko and Azula!”

Kya nods. “But if she's so bad, why do you feel so bad about her?”

There is a long silence.

“I... never saw Ursa's perspective in... my memories. Only Zuko's, and maybe that didn't help the idea I had of her.”

“Oh” was all Kya could say.

“She's not a bad person,” Aang finally admits, guilt in his eyes. “Maybe she's not such a bad mother either.”

Kya hums, reflecting on Aang's words. She knows that Aang is telling her all this because he trusts that she can give him a different perspective, an angle he may not have seen. Aang is telling her this because he needs an impartial judge.

“That makes sense,” she admits after a while. “Everything you thought about Ursa makes sense, Aang. All your assumptions about her were not made lightly. You have so much knowledge at your hands, so many versions and perspectives encapsulated in your mind. It must be difficult to decide who is right and who is wrong, who is trustworthy and who isn't.”

Aang shakes his head, as if trying to deny the heavy burden on his shoulders.

“But even with all your knowledge, you can sometimes fail, you can err in your judgment of a person, and that's okay, Aang. It's human to err, especially in a situation as complicated as this, kid.”

Calling Aang a kid always seemed to make him shudder without fail, as if he sometimes forgot that he was only twelve years old. Even if Aang had lived a hundred years trapped in that iceberg, living through the perspectives of the lives of people he loved with all his being but never knew and who never knew him, it didn't change the fact that Aang was still twelve years old and a child whose culture, people, loved ones, and home had been so cruelly taken from him.

The Southern Water Tribe, above all others, can understand that intimately, even if not on the same scale as Aang.

“I'm not a kid,” Aang snapped harshly, but it was not directed at her, but at himself. “I'm the Avatar, I should know better.”

She shook her head sadly, interrupting the boy with just that movement. “Avatar or not, you're a child, Aang.”

‘You're human,’ she didn't say, but iremained clear.

Aang shuddered at her unspoken words almost as much as at the spoken ones.

“I don't know what to do,” he confessed. “I can't—I can't forgive everything she did,” Aang's voice cracked. "She—she was living the life of her dreams, with her kind husband and her sweet daughter, and meanwhile her son, her firstborn son, was screaming, begging for mercy in a stadium while they burned his face for being a decent person! She was the one who taught him to be good! But where was she when her son was punished for being good? Where was she when her daughter was constantly manipulated by her father, to the point of making her believe that if she wasn't a perfect weapon, she would be nothing in life? That her value was based on her fire?

She believes that the hardest part of being a mother was moments like these; moments when her son breaks under the weight and expectations of the world, moments when she can see how much they have hurt him and how powerless and useless she is to stop his pain.

“It's not fair! Why was she the only one who could escape? I understand... she did it for her children...” Aang's voice breaks and his tone is drowned out by a cry of frustration. She can feel his body shaking and doesn't know if it's from helplessness or confusion, or perhaps anger. "Even so... why forget them? Isn't she their mother? She should at least be aware of the pain her children went through if she can't even be with them!

The tragic thing about all this is that Kya can understand both sides. Ursa, from what she knew in the past to the new information now, is a woman who did everything she could to keep her children safe, even if it didn't always turn out the way she wanted, even if her best efforts weren't enough. She tried to protect them, to keep them happy, even if most of the time she failed. She knows now that Ursa cared so much that the idea of failing them tore her apart more than anything Ozai could do to her.

Maybe that's also why Ursa failed her children so many times; because seeing the pain her children suffered even when she was there made her writhe with guilt and powerless.

Kya, of all people, can understand that horrible feeling.

“I... I can't forgive that. If she loved them so much, why turn her head and pretend she never had Zuko and Azula? Did she hate her memories with them so much, even if some of them were good and happy? Did she hate that those memories tainted her new, perfect life?”

Even so, despite understanding Ursa, she also understands Aang. Aang, who was raised by elderly monks who were responsible and mostly loving. Aang, who always had a reliable support system and who, even when he ran away, never did so because of the adults around him but because of the terror of being the Avatar.

Aang, who never knew people with bad parents. Maybe those who were somewhat absent, maybe those who were strict, but never those who were abusive. Kya knows that encountering Ursa and Ozai must have changed his whole perspective on many things.

Seeing everything from Zuko's perspective must not have helped him at all.

After all, when your friend is hurt in such a way, when you see how all the people who should have helped him failed in a thousand different ways, it's hard to see any of them in a good light. Even victims like Ursa. With Azula, it's easy; she's just a girl who grew up in the same conditions as Zuko.

Ursa? She was an adult and his mother. Kya understands Aang's anger and resentment towards her, even though she is a victim, she understands why Aang can't help but think that Ursa could have done more, could have done better than she did. Aang, in a way, still sees adults as figures who can do more than they are sometimes actually capable of doing.

“But...?” she encouraged, knowing that Aang was not finished.

Aang sighed, his watery eyes drifting to the floor.

“But... even so, this Ursa isn't that Ursa. I treated her unfairly even before I really got to know her in this timeline. I scared her and threatened her, I told her to find a way out of there on her own, I told her I wasn't interested in her.” His voice caught, and he could feel his hands clutching the fabric of the sheets. “I... I wasn't fair to her.”

She grimaces. No, Aang wasn't fair or kind in doing that. She knows that his boy always tries to be impartial and put aside his memories of the future, but Aang isn't perfect and he isn't a mature adult, he's a child trying to do the best he can.

“No, that wasn't fair, Aang,” Kya stated, and Aang cringed at the gentle rebuke. “But you already know that. Now you understand that she was never a bad, as a mother or as a person, just someone trying to survive, like we all do, right?”

The boy in her arms nodded.

“Now, with all that said, what do you want to do, Aang? What'the best thing to do?”

There was a long silence.

“I... I don't know.”

She smiles and strokes the boy's shoulder.

“I have some ideas.”

Just before she could explain, her husband enters their small home with a wooden box, obviously from the latest shipment from the merchants of the Earth Kingdom. However, Kya doesn't remember ordering any supplies; her spices hadn't run out yet, and the thick, large needles she had ordered after breaking her last ones wouldn't arrive for another couple of weeks.

Her husband looked at the boy beside him with a raised eyebrow. “Your order arrived, special delivery from King Bumi. There's a letter that looks like instructions.”

Aang jumps up so high that it would be impossible without his airbending and strides over to Hakoda, almost snatching the wooden box from his hands, checking the contents before smiling with relief. “This is just what I need.”

Kya approaches and looks at the letter Hakoda is holding. The contents are... well, unusual. “What do you need something like this for?”

Aang looks at her and smiles. “It's the last piece I need.”

Yeah, well, that doesn't answer anything. Luckily, Hakoda and she have the whole afternoon free, so there's time for explanations.

And for plans.

—

“But when you get there, their birthday will already be over!” Sokka complains, trying to force the gift he and Katara had prepared for Zuko into Aang's hands.

His parents watch the scene from a few feet away, not intervening after Aang exchanged farewells with them and his mother had double-checked that he had everything he needed for the trip and his father had fed and checked Appa to make sure he could carry him safely.

Aang chuckles at his complaints, shaking his head. “It'll only be a couple of days, it won't be that long. And wouldn't it be more meaningful if the gift came from your own hands than from mine?”

He has no argument for that, but Sokka still snorts loudly and turns his head away, refusing to agree with him. Katara, two and a half years old, clinging to his side so she wouldn't get tired of standing, giggled amusedly at the confrontation.

A hand pulls him closer, and soon Aang is hugging them both. “I know you don't like it, but trust me. Besides, you have many birthdays ahead of you to celebrate, right? And when I arrive with them, we can all celebrate together. Even if it's technically over, I'm sure neither Zuko nor Azula will mind.”

Katara jumps up, excited. “Azula!”

Katara was delighted to learn that Azula would be joining them and that she would no longer be the only girl in their small group. She couldn't wait to meet her pen pal, even though neither of them ever wrote anything. They always sent each other greetings and compliments, even though neither had ever seen the other face to face.

Aang nods, his eyes soft as he says,

“Yes, you, me, Zuko, and Azula, all of us will celebrate Zuko's birthday, I promise. Just be patient.”

Katara nods without protest because of the two of them, she always tries to listen (which is unfair because she never listens to Sokka when he says something).

Sokka grumbles and mutters words too low to be heard, but nods in the end because he doesn't want to make Aang sad and have a bad goodbye. He's done it many times, and Aang always looks devastated every time it happens, which makes him feel a little bad.

“Fine,” he mutters, then hands over a letter he had written a few hours ago in a hurry, in case he couldn't convince Aang with the gifts. “Can you at least give him this?”

Aang smiles and accepts without further ado, carefully storing the letter in the leather bag he hasn't let go of since he arrived a week ago. The airbender turns around and is about to climb onto Appa when he runs up and grabs his leg.

“Sokka?” He sounds confused by the sudden embrace.

He hides his face against his side, trying not to show the fear in him when he says, “Please be careful with the monster.”

He feels Aang's breath stop for a moment.

“I will,” he promises.

Sokka clings to his promise as tightly as he can as he watches him leave.

—

Azula hummed, leaning against her hands as they moved gently to comb her hair into a pristine braid, just as the many etiquette classes had taught her.

(Just as her own mother had done.)

Ursa finds peace in her daughter's soft humming. It's a lullaby, she soon realizes. It's gentle and quite sweet, beautiful and unlike anything she's ever heard before. The melody mesmerizes her and makes her feel safe. It sounds like a spring breeze, like the steam from a cup of hot tea, like something nostalgic that makes you remember home. She wonders where she learned it, because it certainly wasn't from her.

“It's very pretty, where is it from?”

Her daughter turns around, ruining her half-finished braid, and she sighs inwardly because she will have to start over, although she discovers that it doesn't bother her.

There is something bright in Azula's eyes, something confidential and mischievous. It almost feels as if there is a chaotic spirit in front of her instead of her daughter, but the thought does not make her recoil or shudder as it usually would.

“Someone close to me taught me.”

Her daughter's smile is wide and cheerful, there is something she is hiding and they both know it, but Ursa doesn't press her because children love to have their little secrets, they love to know things their parents don't know. Instead, Ursa smiles back and continues combing her hair as Azula looks ahead again and starts humming that tune again.

Only a few minutes pass before Azula speaks again. “Mom, would you miss me if I flew far, far away one day?”

She blinks, unsure where that sudden question came from. “That’s a very curious question, Azula. Where would you fly to?”

Has Azula been thinking about leaving? Escaping from the palace, far away from these monsters in fancy clothes? If so, she wouldn't blame her one bit, yet the question still echoes in her mind and something feels wrong. Azula doesn't answer her question and for a moment no one says anything.

She ponders what she has just been asked. Ursa would miss her terribly if she went somewhere she couldn't reach, but she would never blame her for it. Ursa would leave if she could, if she were given the chance to leave, she would take her children's little hands and fly far, far away, without looking back.

It's something she has considered more than once. The thousands of combinations of chemicals, plants, and liquids she has thought of are not innocent. She thinks of the thousands of papers she has thrown into the fire to burn the evidence of her treacherous thoughts in the form of toxins that would kill in less than a minute.

She thinks of her little personal recipe, made from her own knowledge of botany inherited from her parents. She thinks of that little piece of paper containing her deepest and most twisted desires, which is safely tucked under a loose floorboard where Zuko's nightstand is right now.

She wouldn't do it, not with the risk of her children getting caught up in that mess.

Her daughter continues to stare at her with inquisitive eyes, bringing her back to the real world.

“If you ever fly far, far away, I'd like to be there to say goodbye. Of course I'd miss you, but someday we all fly the nest, don't we?”

She thinks about her parents, their warm hugs, their silly smiles, their kisses on her forehead, and their loving words. She remembers the horrible terror and anguish at the thought of never seeing them again, a feeling that remains even to this day. She remembers that wedding night, the tears mixed with sweat, and her mind desperately trying to imagine someone other than the person on top of her. She remembers the bitter kisses and the pain of her wedding night.

Above all, she remembers the bitterness and the malicious smiles. She remembers the lack of love in that whole act, which until that day she had considered sacred.

“I just hope that when you fly away, you can start something new, something good. And I hope you start it on your own terms.”

Azula no longer hums, she remains silent and her smile is replaced by a more serious face.

Her daughter then says to her, in a tone she doesn't recognize, “If you flew far, far away, mom, I would miss you very much. But I hope you'll be very, very happy wherever you are.”

She doesn't know what to say to that.

Instead, she wraps her arms around her daughter and hugs her. “Thank you, Azula, that's very kind of you to wish for me.”

Silently, she feels the sand slipping through her fingers, the last grains in the form of seconds, minutes, hours, days.

Three days.

—

Aang watches the starry sky intently, trying to make shapes with the bright dots in it, but he only manages to make a kind of deformed dragon. He soon gives up and tries to focus on his breathing, counting from one hundred to one, hoping to bore his restless and overly active brain and convince it to just fall asleep.

A breath beneath him distracts him from his counting. Appa sleeps deeply and carefree, taking the well-deserved rest he deserves after another successful journey from the South Pole to the Fire Nation. He easily ignores the guilt that tries to twist in his stomach, knowing that these trips are hard on the bison. Appa is young and only a little older than him in age (at least in physical age, he assumes), and these trips leave him exhausted, especially with how often they do them.

At least, he consoles himself, this should be the last one. After this, they will be reduced much more. Their next destination is a mansion in the Earth Kingdom, which is closer to the South Pole than the Fire Nation will ever be. Appa will be able to rest and won't be so exhausted, and Aang can make a couple of trips alone to the Earth Kingdom if necessary.

It's hard to believe that five years have already passed, hard to believe that Zuko's birthday is only a couple of days away. He has come a long way and believes he has done a good job with both Zuko and Azula, the little time he spent with her, yet there is something that twists with anxiety; this is not the end.

Getting the two children out of there is not the end, and he knows it well. Even if his body seems to act as if it were, there are still many things he must do, many people to contact, a war to end, a dictator to stop. In these cases, envy wells up in his chest toward a more carefree and innocent version of himself, a version that made the decision to stick to his ideals and not kill. A version of himself that didn't personally bear the misfortunes of all his friends and didn't see the monster beneath Ozai. A version of himself that saw the options and was able to choose, one that didn't feel it was a betrayal to allow Ozai to continue breathing after all he had done.

He wonders what Zuko, Katara, Sokka, and all the others would say. Not this version of them, but the version that went through the horrors of war with him, the version of them that embraced him, comforted him, loved him, and defended him tooth and nail, the version of them that would fight this war with him without hesitation, the version of them that in a way would never fully exist, not anymore.

He wonders what they will be like in this timeline, if the sharp edges will be more curved and smooth, if their abilities will be kinder and less lethal, if their eyes will be softer instead of calculating, if their attitudes will change drastically or if there will always be something dangerously sharp in each of them. There is excitement and anxiety, he wonders if in this timeline they will still be friends, if they will still be united, if they will still be family.

Or maybe the connection he saw in that other life was the price he had to pay to fix everything. Maybe that connection he had with all of them was only possible because of the horror and flames of war, maybe Aang killed his chances of having a family.

Or maybe it's just his anxiety talking, maybe it's just his fear and paranoia.

He slides off Appa's back and curls up against his side, the bison curving around him like a cat in an attempt to comfort him, and something is relieved by the action.

He can no longer regret or retract, he knows that well. That child, who lived among monks and nomads of the air, who fled his home out of fear and fell into the ocean during a storm, that child no longer exists. At least not in the way he once did; the memories of another life tore him apart and put him back together again.

He wonders if, in a way, the deal he made with Raava was a kind of murder of his own being. He wonders how many times someone can change before they can mourn the person they once were. However, he doesn't wonder if being torn apart and put back together was worth it. He will never ask himself that question.

Perhaps the cost wasn't the lost timeline, but himself. The thought is not as terrifying as one might suppose; in fact, it is quite reassuring, meaning that whatever happens, he will be the one to suffer the worst of it.

Maybe he should go to sleep before he starts thinking more than he already is.

With one last sigh, he allows himself to rest, curling up against his small leather bag, its comforting weight finally lulling him to sleep.

—

Zuko watches the moon from his balcony. It's not full or even half full; rather, it appears as a crooked smile greeting him from the sky. The night is warm, and there's no breeze to give him chills. It would be perfect weather for anyone, but Zuko can admit that he finds instinctive comfort in the wind, its sounds and its playful, cool gusts, although that's entirely due to his best friend.

He doesn't sit on the edge of the railing. Aang has told him many times not to do so because it's dangerous. He remembers, with a weak smile, Azula complaining and rolling her little eyes, a carbon copy of Lu Ten when Uncle Iroh scolds him, while Aang gives her a long speech about why balancing on the edge of the railing is dangerous and she should never do it alone.

Something in his chest tightens uncomfortably and somewhat painfully, the thought that tomorrow will be his last day with Azula makes his eyes burn and makes it hard to breathe. It's not that he wants to stay, but he doesn't want to leave Azula alone with that monster.

The memory of Sokka's letter, which Aang had to read because Sokka forgot that his writing style was different from that of the Fire Nation, comes back once again.

“Zuko! Happy birthday in advance!”

The letter had started cheerfully, bringing a smile to your face.

“I can't wait to see you! We'll have fun together, you'll see!”

Everything had been fine until the next sentence:

“Only one week to go and goodbye monster, just hang in there a little longer.”

He doesn't remember what else the letter said, his mind frozen on that sentence, guilt blossoming in piles as Aang continued reading the last sentences of Sokka's letter wishing him a happy birthday and rambling about the games they would play together. However, none of that mattered as the realization that neither Azula nor his mother would finally be freed from his father sank into his bones.

His mind has been spinning ever since, unable to stop thinking about it.

If he asks Aang, will he do it? Aang seems to love Azula so much, but he didn't mention anything about taking her with them, so maybe he can't? Maybe he doesn't want to? But they can't leave her, Azula doesn't deserve that, she doesn't deserve to be left behind.

A gust of wind plays with his hair, and when he turns his head, he finds Aang wearing his wind spirit mask, sitting precariously on the railing even though he always tells him and Azula not to do so. He wants to point out that he is setting a bad example, but in the end he decides not to.

No one says anything. Tomorrow he will turn five, and there are too many emotions in his chest to distinguish what he truly feels. Part of him wants to cry to Aang and beg him to take Azula with them, maybe even his mother, even if his mother might be too afraid to leave.

Aang is the Avatar and his best friend. He knows, from the weariness on his face, from the dark circles under his eyes, from the dimmed glow that fades away out of pure affection, that he has too much on his shoulders. Zuko knows that Aang is doing too much for him. he knows how selfish is to ask for more.

Zuko wishes he could be content with all that Aang has given him, Aang who has given him the world and friends and a place to belong. Aang, who gave him hope for something better and who didn't let him sink into that horrible swamp that everyone pretends to ignore.

He really wishes he could say he was satisfied, that he wished for nothing more. He wishes he could be more grateful.

"What's the matter?" Aang is the first to speak, as always. Aang is always the first to act, to say something, to try to cheer him up if he feels something is wrong. He is his guardian, his protector and the ghost that guides him in this dark, cold palace. Aang has done so much for him since always. He should be grateful and not ask for more, but he can't help his desire, he can't help wanting to ask him for more. Just a little more.

Aang has given him all he can ask for like some kind of benevolent spirit from his mother's stories. He is like the ungrateful, like those evil mortals in that tales, who asked for more and more even though they already have more than enough on their hands.

"Tomorrow is my birthday." He finally says hesitantly. He is not afraid, Aang would never hurt him, he only feels guilt because he knows that his wishes could very well be Aang's orders.

"Yes, it is." Aang affirms easily. "Tomorrow is the big day, nervous?"

He shakes his head, he doesn't know when or where Aang will look for him, he just assumes it will be in the evening, a few hours before the day ends. However he is not scared nor does he fear for his father or his grandfather or any guard watching over him. He knows that Aang will come looking for him wherever he is and they can safely leave this palace together. He never doubted that, Aang is someone powerful after all.

Aang hums and keeps talking because he knows Zuko won't do it. "So, does the birthday boy have any requests from yours truly?"

He really must be an open book to Aang, if he can easily pull out what he wants from him after a few words. Or maybe, Zuko is an open book for anyone and doesn't know how to hide his intentions, either way he doesn't complain, he doesn't know if he could have said it if Aang didn't insist and press the right points.

"Azula, that's all I want for my birthday."

He doesn't dare look at Aang. He knows he won't be able to see his expression because of the mask on his face, yet Aang has always been expressive even with his face covered. There's a long silence that runs across the balcony and he almost wants to take it back, but he remains firm and stubborn in his words.

A chuckle echoes in the air. The sound is peaceful, joyful and seems the embodiment of freedom. Aang has always been someone too free for him, as if even gravity and the laws of the world couldn't catch him, too elusive for such banal things as that. He always seems a second away from just leaving and becoming one with the wind again, too big to be contained.

Zuko supposes he is the only thing keeping Aang bound to this moment, the only reason the laws of the world bind him. He is one of the few people for who Aang would willingly hold back himself for, even though he would never understand why someone like Aang would choose to hold back and tie himself to someone like him. Maybe it doesn't matter, he decides as with lightness in his chest he hears Aang's hearty, joyous laughter slowly subside.

"My surprise has just been ruined! Zuko, come on, it's not even twelve o'clock, how could you ruin my big surprise? Azula will be furious with both of us!"

He blinks, trying to follow Aang's animated tirade as he uses his hands to pull the mask off his face, a big grin fills the airbender's face, still trying to breathe between little giggles.

"What? I don't understand," he tries to say, but Aang sighs and finally jumps off the railing onto the balcony, standing next to him.

"I was supposed to tell you in an hour, when it's twelve o'clock. It was a surprise, Azula is coming with us to the South Pole."

His eyes go wide, too surprised to do more than that. Aang looks at him with some guilt. "I asked her a couple of weeks ago, before I left for the south pole, and she agreed. She made me swear it would be a surprise for today, she wanted to surprise you so much with the news. Spirits, I should had told you sooner, but she-"

He heard no more from there, something wet slid down his face and it took him a few seconds to understand they were tears, Aang noticed them a few moments later and shut up, cringing in fright as he apologized for not telling him sooner and tried to calm him down or get any reaction out of him other than tears.

He threw himself against him, almost knocking him to the ground. Aang drew in a sharp breath and let out a hiss of surprise at the new weight on his chest, but still hugged him immediately, hunching against him in an attempt to hide it from the rest of the world. In exchange, Zuko wrapped his little legs around Aang's waist as best he could and squeezed his neck with his short arms, snuggling against his chest.

The knot in his chest that he didn't know he had eased all too quickly.

Yes, tomorrow would be a good birthday, he decided, the best one ever.

His chest felt much lighter.

(Not quite, but enough.)

-

Her birthday passes without incident. The morning was calm and quiet, his mother and Azula woke him up with a personal recipe for blackberry and strawberry shortcake. They laughed, chatted and quietly sang a happy birthday to him as his mother handed him a small elegant wooden box, where he found two matching bracelets with a fire lily symbol on them, one has velvety red strings and the other blue.

He looks puzzled at his mother, who smiles shyly at him. "It's the symbol that represents my family, we are botanists, that's why the fire lily. One is for you and I thought you would like to share the other one with Azula, I had them specially ordered to match for this occasion."

Azula squeals excitedly and snatches the other bracelet which is an electric blue color. "I love it!"

His mother laughs and says; "I'm glad, but I think it's important to know if the birthday boy liked it too, right?"

His sister rolls her eyes, feigning disinterest. "Of course."

He smiles at his mother as he places the bracelet on his wrist and adjusts it until it's tight enough that it won't fall off, but not tight enough to hurt. "It's very pretty, mom, I like it very much."

His mother looked relieved at him. She gave him a long hug and kissed his forehead. Her eyes were watered but neither him or Azula commented it. Hand in hand, Ursa led them to the palace gates after a peaceful breakfast, thanks to his father's absence, so they could explore the popular markets in the heart of the capital. They spent the rest of the afternoon there, shopping and trying anything that caught their eye.

The sun was slanting slightly to the west when they returned to the palace. Their uncle greeted them at the entrance next to Lu Ten, joy fluttered in his chest at the sight of his cousin. Zuko hadn't seen Lu Ten since a year ago when he was accepted to be the disciple of a famous swordsman who lived far away from the capital, he didn't know they would see him today. That was good, at least he will be able to say goodbye to him properly, he doesn't feel as sad as he thought he would be, Lu Ten would be fine and he knows it won't be goodbye forever, he is sure of that.

He plays with Lu Ten and Azula for the rest of the afternoon, and, when the sun is only a few hours away from hiding, he is taken to his room by the maids and dressed to appear at a gala in his honor for his birthday. It is the least remarkable part of the day, his mother and father pretend to be a loving couple, Azula is demure and quiet and he smiles and thanks all the congratulations for a day he knows no one here really cares about.

A couple of nobles introduce their daughters and sons to him, he supposes to start forming bonds and all. Azula is even introduced to a couple of girls that her father approves of.

Finally, after dinner and the farewell to the noble guests, Azula and he are free to slip away while Azulon talks to his sons and nephew about boring political things and his mother bids the last guests farewell. With their hands clasped together, they walk through the desolate, dark corridors, lit only by the spaced torches. This is his home, he reflects. Or, at least, this is his home for one last night. After today, everything will be different. Everything will be better.

The hand against his can assure him of that. Azula walks at his pace even if it is somewhat slow, she doesn't complain about how long it takes them to get there, she doesn't fill the silence, they both understand that this moment is something really important, a kind of farewell.

Finally, they reach their rooms, side by side as it was since ever. Their hands part and Azula gives him a big smile as she says goodbye for the short time they will be apart.

"Make sure you're ready." He reminds Azula before she enters to her room. "Once Aang comes, we leave immediately and we can't come back if you forget anything."

Azula nods and goes into her room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

The door to his room opens with a familiar creak, he enters the large empty room. He always felt small in these four walls, in this room where there wasn't much furniture except his closet, his bed, his bedside table, a desk he doesn't often use, and a chest where he kept a couple of toys he doesn't use much.

He lies on his bed and looks up at the ceiling. There is a black leather bag under his bed, ready to be grabbed the moment Aang arrives. There's not much in there. Only three of his more casual, warm pairs of clothes, his comb, a towel, a couple of treasured scrolls, and his treasure chest where his favorite clay toys are.

That and the small wooden box that has a red lily engraving on the surface, empty of its contents but equally precious. The bracelet on his wrist has a suddenly noticeable weight to it.

Beside his bed, hidden in the empty drawer of his bedside table, is a neatly folded cloak and a Dark Water Spirit mask, waiting to be taken out and put on. On the edge of his bed, hidden under a couple of pillows, is a change of clothes ready to be dressed in less than a couple of minutes. His sleepwear will soon be forgotten and left on that bed he has slept in for so many years.

There is something that makes his stomach hurt, he can't recognize such a complicated emotion. He's not sad to leave, but there's something about leaving all these little things with big memories that hurts in a way he can't explain.

"Zuko?"

He turns and it's not the person he expected to see, though that's obvious. The moon smile is not yet at its highest point even. His mother walks in and looks relieved to see him, as if she thought he had disappeared in the short time they were apart. Something about that is somehow something that will happen, that makes him feel horrible.

He should say goodbye to his mother, he should say he's tired and say goodnight, a painfully peaceful goodbye. But this is his mother, the woman who has held him in her trembling arms and seen him with nothing but pure love, she is the woman who has told him so many tales and stories and legends, who has comforted him when she could through tears. She is his mother. She loves him as much as he loves her, even if that love between them is sometimes more painful than comforting. Even if that love leaves more open wounds than closed scars.

His mother, who smiles with nothing but love in her eyes and says; "Do you mind if I stay a while, love?"

Instead of refuse, as he should, he steps aside and pats his bed, opening his arms in a sign that he wants a hug.

His mother sits on the edge of his bed and hugs him tightly, cradling him as if he were a newborn. She hums a lullaby and whispers how much she loves him. She strokes his hair with gentle hands and settles him in his bed to make him comfortable. His chest aches in a tender and painful way, he loves his mother, he loves her so much. He hates to leave her behind. His eyes sting and burn.

He closes his eyes and pretends this is like any other night. He closes his eyes and dozes restlessly, waiting for warm arms and a voice light as the wind to carry him to his new life.

-

Zuko's breathing is slow and quiet, a kind of lullaby to his ears on that night with weather so perfect that it ends up giving more shivers than comfort. The moon smiles in the sky, its rays faintly crossing the window as a witness of what will happen tonight, its weak light seems a comfort for her, an attempt to make her feel less scared, less alone. That night seems to be an exact replica of the night where it all started.

This time she is not the intruder in the room, she is not the last to arrive at the scene of the crime. Instead, she sits patiently as she lovingly strokes her firstborn's hair, counting the minutes until it is the promised time.

The moon was high in the sky when the balcony doors opened wide, the curtains twisting in an agitated manner from the gust of breeze used, the wind flooded the room in a wild and almost overbearing manner, forcing her to close her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them, the wind was gone and the doors were closed again as if they had never failed in their duty to begin with and had been opened. The curtains crumpled and disheveled as the only witness that what had happened wasn't her imagination.

And there, in the middle of the large, spacious room as if it had always been there, the spirit stood. A cane with strange engravings that she knew she recognized as the one from their first encounter in one hand, half hidden behind it and being grasped as if it were a weapon and a kind of source of power for the spirit. He was dressed in black clothes, yet there were orange details on them this time, small and almost unnoticeable in that darkness. Tied around his waist, a dark brown bag of sorts rested there. The hood was up and a mask she knew she recognized as that of the wind spirit greeted her.

She wonders if the mask is to avoid scaring her child, to try to gain trust points and not force the child to go with him in fear or terror, she couldn't help but feel grateful if her thoughts were true.

The spirit says nothing, though she didn't expect it to, in their only two encounters it has never been a being of words, instead it seemed to prefer to observe her, looking for changes in her or judging the essence of her soul, perhaps trying to see if it is worth even speaking to her.

She says nothing this time, unlike the others, she doesn't think there is much more to say. Whether she begged or pleaded, it would never be enough. Ursa is just a mere mortal in front of a powerful spirit, what could she do but surrender?

Yet she cannot help the gentle pressure her hand makes against her son's head, unable to help the urge to flee with her progeny even if she knows it is futile. If the spirit notices her instincts, it doesn't take it to heart or get defensive, even though there is no reason for it to do so, the spirit made it clear that wherever she takes Zuko, the spirit will find him.

So, she shakes her son and wakes him up.

Zuko opens his eyes, sleepy and somewhat groggy, his eyes look at her with confusion, and when he sits up, they land on the spirit in front of them, who has not yet made any move to take what he wants.

"Zuko, this is-"

She is interrupted. "Aang!"

Gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face, his child broke free from the restrictive grip of the sheets and jumped off the bed, leaping over the spirit in an embrace that pulls it back a few steps before wrapping around the child's shoulders in both a grip to keep the child from stumbling as in a welcoming embrace. The spirit didn't immediately take the child in a strong grip nor did it lift the child in its arms to disappear, instead, it remained there until the child detached from it. There was familiarity between them.

Her son, as if he had forgotten she was there, turned to see her with some anxiety, as if her presence there was a greater intrusion than the spirit behind him, as if she had broken a sacred moment. Her son turned to look at the spirit and whispered very thinly, as if she could not hear him in such a silent room. "Aang! Mom's here! She saw you! What do we do?"

His whispered little cries caused the spirit to let out a giggle that sent shivers down her back, the spirit's hand lovingly stroked Zuko's hair, and even if the mask said nothing, she could almost feel the joy emanating from that ancestral being.

'Aang,' was that the being's name? Or was it just one of his probable thousands of nicknames? Or maybe it's a nickname chosen by his son that the spirit felt insurgent to allow? Be that as it may, his son was intimately familiar with that being, there was no fear or nervousness there, his eyes were sharp and clear enough to be hypnotism or any other trick, his son recognized him.

Then it all finally made sense. The stories of his son, his eyes lost when they saw the balcony of his room, his all too knowing eyes, his silences that held something too important to say out loud, the healed wounds and all the rest of the little things she was sure she missed along the way; it was all because of this being.

The memory came all at once; Zuko's first words, which at the time she took to be babbling, were Aang.

Oh, this isn't something from a year or two ago, it's since that deal they made started. The spirit never intended to come and take the child away amidst crying and screaming, no.

Instead, it snuck out at night hundreds of times under her nose and spent time with her son, cooed to him on cold nights, sang lullabies on restless nights, played with him when the night was young, took him to places she could only imagine when the moon was at its high point and sang stories as it tucked him into his bed.

She can't even be angry with that being, she can only blame herself for being so careless, for not seeing the signs. For assuming that the spirit would disappear and it wouldn't see it's charge again until the promised day.

"Don't worry, Zuko, your mother and I have known each other for a while."

The boy blinks, surprised and somewhat puzzled. "Then why I couldn't talk about you with her?"

The spirit shrugs and it's mask drifts to a spot in the room, away from where she or Zuko were. "It's complicated."

Her son grimaced, not satisfied, but didn't press. "Is it time?"

She shuddered at the tone in Zuko's voice, it wasn't scared, nervous or resigned, there was emotion there, there was anticipation, just a hint of sadness but nothing more. Zuko looks at the spirit with pure trust in his eyes and she realizes that if the spirit were to take him right here, her son wouldn't resist, but would curl up in it's ghostly arms and look at her one last time with some regret in his eyes.

"Almost." Concede the spirit. "Get your things and go to Azula's room to see if she's ready. We'll join you in a moment."

The boy hesitates, hesitates and looks between them as if they were about to jump down each other's throats. However, he nods without putting up any resistance and, slowly and almost methodically, reaches under his bed for a bag and pulls out of his drawer some clothes and a Dark Water spirit mask that Ursa never knew he had.

Then, he runs to the door and leaves the room.

-

Ursa looks at him as one who looks at a villain, as one who looks at a monster or a vengeful and chaotic spirit. Silently he thinks that maybe the Dark Water Spirit's mask fits him better than Zuko in this life, or maybe not, after all, not even the Dark Water Spirit would prepare such a long-term and morally dubious plan as he did.

He sits down at the small mousetrap table in the middle of the room, sitting as respectfully and elegantly as possible because he doesn't forget that Ursa is still a princess of the Fire Nation and he knows that manners are all for nobles and royalty here. He raises his hand and signals Ursa to sit across from him, she does, her eyes look at him, she looks cornered and everything in her body screams painful alertness.

He doesn't comment on any of this, it would be rude and he doesn't feel like talking platitudes. No, today he has a purpose, the same as five years ago and at the same time totally different. After all, five years ago he would never have thought of sitting down and talking to Ursa, far from it. But things change, people change and so does he. So does Ursa.

Ursa sits across from him with an elegance he expected, her eyes left the fear of prey and look at him with caution and some curiosity, this evening is not going as she expected, he knows she didn't expect any of this for tonight. Maybe she expected screaming, crying and a heartbreaking farewell, but Aang never considered himself a person of such calculating or uncaring cruelty even when he believes it is for the greater good. After all, if he was that kind of person, Zuko would never have met his mother and would have been at the south pole long ago.

In this life, he always considered his mercy more of a burden and a nuisance than the strength he would have considered it to be in another life, another world. Perhaps that was his first mistake.

"I'm sorry." It's the first and most important thing he has to say to the person in front of him, it's the least he owes her and it's the right thing to do.

He wonders, while Ursa looks at him with confusion and disbelief, when he started trying to eliminate things like his empathy, his mercy and his compassion. When he decided that these things were too annoying and a luxury he couldn't afford instead of something basic that made him human, that made him who he was. Maybe it was during all that time he was locked inside those memories of another life, or maybe it was later, maybe it was that night he saw Ursa and wasn't able to take Zuko from her.

It doesn't matter, he won't make excuses. He isn't a child who can be excused for the harm he has done to a person who didn't deserve it because of his own prejudices. He is no longer the child who can be forgiven, that child no longer exists, shattered by a thousand memories. He is the avatar and he is more spirit than person, he can no longer justify himself as perhaps he could have done in another life, he is no longer a kid, no matter what his body and mind say, no matter how much he wishes he could be, no matter how much he wishes he could run into the arms of an adult and just cry.

Monk Gyatso is no longer there to comfort him.

Ursa looks at him, his mouth open in surprise and her body as stiff as a statue. It took her a few seconds to regain her composure. "What?"

He takes a deep breath and continues, there is no lump in his throat to stop him from speaking, even if there was, Aang is good at ignoring it. "I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I'm sorry for the fear and terror you've lived with these past five years, sorry for pointing at you and finding you guilty of sins that weren't yours, sorry for seeing you and not seeing someone who deserved empathy."

And he means it, he discovers, he really means it. The first three years he hadn't understood, he didn't want to understand, how bad he acted that first night when they met. He wanted to deny everything and told himself that even if he was too hard with her it was for the best, it was to be clear and direct. Maybe it was, but that wasn't the point.

The last two years, especially thanks to Azula, he could see more than just the Ursa of his memories. He could understand that not everything is white and black, and isn't that funny? He should know that more than anyone else, with all those memories of the future deposited in his mind. It was only thanks to Azula that he was able to put aside his memories of another life for once and see something more than that.

It was so easy to just write Ursa off as a victim or as a neglectful mother who never tried to see beyond that, ever.

And that is his fault and his alone. So he leans down until his head is just inches from touching the surface of the mousetrap table.

"Nothing I do can ever redeem that, but I hope you know I'm sorry for all the anguish I caused you."

There was a long silence, Ursa was still trying to process all the information, as if someone had just told her that she would be allowed to divorce Ozai.

Then, after long minutes, she took a deep breath and her eyes came closer, her posture changed to a firm one, understanding that this would be perhaps her only chance to be on equal terms with him; "I appreciate your apology, great spirit, however, you are not the only one who has been pondering these years about... well, everything."

That makes him raise his head a little, Ursa looks at him and gestures with her hand for him to raise it at all. He does so.

"I'm not going to say that all this did me good or anything, because it's a lie." He avoids with all his might shrinking back in his seat or averting his gaze. "But, it made me reflect on a lot of things, like how short things last, how much I allowed my own fears to end up reflecting in different ways on my children, how much I allowed my hatred and spite towards Ozai to dictate the way I behaved towards them..... it was horrible, I wanted to refuse to see it and I wanted to blame you for all my misfortunes, to some extent I can do that I suppose, but it's not as if you lied about what you said at our first meeting; my son, my children, will grow up unhappy here and live a horrible life.

There was a pause as Ursa sorted out her thoughts before continuing. "I love them with all my heart and soul, I love them more than they will ever know, but I know better than anyone how much someone's love can bind you, how it can restrict your every action."

A melancholy look crosses his face, Aang can't see the memories flashing through her mind, but he can almost feel the sadness and longing in them. "I don't want my love for them to be that. I want them to be happy and I want them to grow up to be something more than what those monsters want them to be, more than what I want them to be, and that can't happen here, not with Ozai, Azulon or even Iroh around."

There is a short pause before Ursa, her voice cracking, continues. "Then, if I must let them go with a spirit to prevent them from ending up harming and molding my children into monsters just like them, I will. I will even give them to you myself if it can prevent that horrible fate from being fulfilled, I must at least try to keep them from ending up like this whole family of monsters." There is something desperate there, something so desperate and hopeless that it hurts to hear it. "So, please take Azula too."

Even if that leaves her alone, they both listen to the unspoken words.

Without hesitation, he asks her; "What if I could take you away?"

Ursa's head jerks up and she looks at him with surprise in her eyes.

"What?"

"What would you do if I could take you away from here?"

Ursa stares at him, waiting for him to take back his offer or laugh or do something cruel. He didn't blame her for think he would do something like that, even if the pain curls in his chest. He deserves it.

"Go with my childrens?"

He grimaces. "No, it's too risky to have you all together."

Aang thinks about the Earth Kingdom merchants with whom the Southern Tribe does business. No one will pay attention to two new children in the Hakoda Tribe. They can just say they're two Earth Kingdom war orphans they took in if someone even notices and asks.

A woman of Ursa's status? Her pale skin, unblemished by wrinkles, calluses, or signs of wear typical of the Southern Tribe or the Earth Kingdom, will attract attention. A woman who doesn't appear to have done a single piece of hard work and who looks like someone from an influential family. Children can hide and go unnoticed. No one expects children to have obvious signs of wear unless they live in deplorable conditions, but Ursa is an adult and will stand out like a sore thumb.

Rumors spread too easily, and Aang doesn't want to risk drawing unnecessary attention to the South Pole. His protection above the tribe can only do so much without blowing their cover or alerting the Fire Nation that there is a remaining waterbender or, worse, that the Avatar lives. It's too difficult to keep the Earth Kingdom merchants they barter with from suspecting their whereabouts, with rendezvous points far from where they live, and one out-of-place word from the any other southern tribe to their own can spread to the merchants and rumors will spread like wildfire.

They can't afford it, least of all when the Fire Nation searches the world over for their missing royal members, any sign of abnormality will alert the Fire Nation. And when the Fire Nation gets suspicious, they send armies and burn before they ask.

Still, guilt twists in his stomach as he sees the disappointment in Ursa. "However, I can return you to your birth home, the one from which you were taken for this horrible marriage."

Ursa shakes her head. "They will find me in less than a week, Ozai and Azulon know where I was born and raised, it is obvious I will return there if given the chance. I can't go back, it would endanger my parents, my...."

Ursa's voice cracks and says nothing more, but Aang knows who she is referring to, the name is caught between his memories of the Zuko from another life; Noren, or Ikem, Ursa's love and the father of her third child; Kiyi.

Aang continues, pretending not to notice how she suddenly fell silent; "I will help you, I can introduce you to someone who can give you a new face and with it a new life. Who can give you a new start and, with it, be free from this palace and all its bad memories."

The words he says sound bitterly familiar, the mother of faces had said something similar to Ursa in another life, when she offered Ursa a new face and a mind free of those horrible memories, free of Ozai and, with this one, Azula and Zuko. Aang hated her for it, despised her. He hated the fact that she willingly agreed to forget Azula and Zuko, he couldn't understand her.

Maybe even now he can't understand her decision, not quite, but he thinks he can sympathize a little more.

The woman in front of him says nothing, remains silent and ponders her words for a few minutes.

"Will I ever see my children again?"

A pang of pain runs through his chest.

"That's up to you."

He cannot and will not try to force Ursa's hand, just as she had the last word in her other life, when she agreed to erase the memories of her children, she will have it in this one. And whatever her decision, Aang will not intervene. He only hopes that this time it will be different.

"I see." Ursa's voice is calm and elegant, her eyes look into the eyes of the mask she wears before she says; "And what do you want in return?"

"Nothing, you will owe me nothing."

"That's not like a spirit."

He averts his gaze, something that is not noticed by his mask. "I owe you for all the suffering I've put you through. It is the least I can do."

Ursa hums in acknowledgement. "Well, then, can I ask you a question?" He raises a hand in permission and Ursa continues. "Who are you? Because I'm sure not a spirit, at least not entirely."

The room is flooded by a long silence, his mouth closes tightly and whatever thoughts he was having stop, his heart beats hard against his chest. How...?

Ursa looks into his eyes, his own, not the mask's, even if it should be impossible, and asks; "Is it bold to suggest that I'm talking to the Avatar?"

Shit.

-

The being's shoulders tilt up and down slightly, an obvious attempt to hide his surprise. The supposed spirit's fingers tremble imperceptibly where they were once relaxed in his lap, his whole body tenses, shrinks and forces itself to relax in a disguised manner, but they both know it's too late for that.

The mask keeps looking at her, two slanted eyes and a mischievous, relaxed smile, yet she doubts that beneath that mask its wearer has the same light expression.

They are long moments in silence, the not so spirit seems to be debating what to do with this course of action, its movements small and undetectable to the untrained eye, but Ursa has lived in a nest of monsters with silver tongues and an immaculate demeanor as not to know how to read the silences and their various meanings. This being debates whether or not to trust her.

That tells her everything.

She doesn't press or insist, she allows the silence to settle in like second nature and doesn't allow her body to flinch or recoil even an inch, this being is a bloodhound and will immediately know any hint of doubt in her and use it as an excuse to get defensive.

It is quite obvious, she think reflectively, that this being is not a spirit, not at all. Once you get past the tumultuous, hazy first layer, she can see the little features that give away a human; the body movements, his speech without too much prose or flowery language that spirits love to use to confuse mortals of their intentions, the figure too human and without any unnatural features, even the spirits that look more like humans have something that gives them away. But, apart from that cloak that surrounds him and screams that there is something in this being that doesn't belong to this plane, there's really nothing that points to him as a spirit.

It is less frightening the creature in front of her once she realizes this.

Finally, after long minutes of deliberation, the being sighs in a small, controlled way. "Well, I can only blame myself for letting my guard down, can't I?"

She says nothing at his words.

The being's hands are raised and before long the mask was removed, revealing a surprisingly young face, large gray eyes, a round nose and arrow tattoos on its forehead and head. This being is nothing more than a child who cannot be older than his nephew, Lu Ten, who is sixteen years old.

She processes this fact slowly and awkwardly, but once she did, she has only one question on his mind;

"Why did the Avatar take an interest in this destroyed family? In Zuko?"

And the Avatar, a being that should have been dead for a century, smiles wearily. "Do you have time for a little story?"

The story weaves as the moon tilts to one side of the sky a little more. It begins with a boy who was raised among monks, a boy who discovered in his twelfth year a fate thrust upon him and a war on the verge of breaking out, a boy who ran away from home terrified of new responsibility and the possibility of being cruelly torn from his home because of it, a boy who was caught in a storm and plunged into the tempestuous ocean, a boy who was trapped for a hundred years inside a glacier of his own creation.

"You might say that all that could well have been my death and rebirth, if we want to wax poetic." Said the avatar, the child, in a tired, almost sardonic voice.

She didn't find it funny.

But the story didn't end there, no. While his people perished under fire, while the fire nation burned orchards and whole villages of the Earth Kingdom, while the waterbenders of the southern tribe were taken away never to be seen and the northern tribe secluded themselves in their little fortress, while the people suffered, cried, survived and died, the avatar slept.

Or at least he was supposed to do that, however, the spirit that dwelt within himself, Raava, appeared with a deal to offer. The chance for a glimpse into his own future, the chance to alleviate the guilt, burdens and suffering of thousands of people and to end the war in a cleaner way and without so much loss in exchange for one thing.

"Your husband, Ozai, must be the fire lord that I defeat. Not Azulon, not Iroh or Lu Ten; Ozai. He must be the one who sits on that throne when I strike my final blow. It is a knot that must not be changed." Aang's voice is sorrowful and somber, Ursa wanted to laugh because of course that monster must have the disgusting chance to even sit on that throne.

And the hundred years inside the Iceberg began with the avatar being a passive spectator of the future, of a future that might have been, at least.

"But it wasn't just my future. I saw the future of everyone close to me, or well, those on my team."

The realization hit her. "Zuko."

Aang nodded regretfully and continued; he narrated a future where he awoke sixteen years later than he had in this life, thanks to the last waterbender of the southern tribe and the last warrior of the tribe. He narrated how he and these children embarked on the mission to help him learn all the elements to defeat the fire lord, how they found more people with their same convictions along the way, how they encountered a banished prince of the fire nation who went from being their enemy to their friend. He narrated the end of the war and all the battles that would come after that, he narrated how in reality the war would never stop, at least not for them, it would only subside a little.

"I want to try to avoid it, I can't just sit by and watch the mistakes of my previous incarnations, my mistakes, become something that my loved ones must carry all their lives. I want to live in peace, as much as I can, I need to at least try." There was pure desperation there, something broken in his voice and something he was clinging to by the way his hands were pressed against his lap.

The Avatar, Aang, looked small. He looked like a child.

He is a child.

Then he sighs and looks at her, there is guilt in his eyes as he says; "For that, I need a favor."

He raises an eyebrow, not too impressed. "What is it?"

The boy averts his gaze, his voice wobbles a bit; "In one of the many futures, I saw Zuko's. He discovered through you that Azulon didn't die of natural causes as was well known throughout the Fire Nation, but was poisoned by you."

The air leaves her lungs, surprise and disbelief hit her hard as denial fills her entire chest.

"I wouldn't do that, there's no way I would have dared to do that, I'm not stupid. Doing that is risky and if I were discovered I would be executed immediately, I wouldn't do that- I wouldn't do that to Zuko and Azula-"

Aang denied sadly. "It wasn't because you wanted to, Ozai coerced you into doing it, he knew you had extensive knowledge of poisons because of your family's roots with botany. He knew you could make a poison, if you didn't already have one, that would be impossible for doctors to detect."

She denied. "There's no way I would have let myself be convinced, even if he... if he did something horrible to me."

He looked at her, tired, resigned and somewhat angry. "He didn't threaten you with your safety. The deal was this; the poison to kill Azulon delivered by your own hands to him in exchange for Zuko's safety."

The words hit her like a sledgehammer to her stomach, pain, despair and denial all hit her hard. "t's not possible... Zuko is also his son."

And Aang looked at her with such sorrow when she said; "That never stopped him, did it?"

Aang didn't comment on her tears or her sobs. He got up from his place and approached her, placed a hand on her shoulder and stayed with her in silence allowing her to unburden herself. Wasn't it sad that again a child should comfort her when she is an adult? But she couldn't help it, the anger and pain of what Ozai did (would do?) was too much.

"After that you despise me, didn't you? That's why you hated me so much."

He feels the shudder in Aang's body before Aang said; "No, it wasn't because of that, it was your decisions after that. But it doesn't matter anymore, I had no right to get angry like that."

She takes a deep breath, tries to regain his composure and stop crying. It's not fair for this kid who has the weight of the world and a thousand memories to live with to have to console her. She looks at Aang with gratitude and the child smiles at her in a kindly way, but nothing can hide the tiredness he radiates, poor child.

"You want me to give you the recipe for the poison, don't you?"

The boy's smile fades and his expression is serious. "I won't use it now, Iroh would take the throne and I don't want to kill him." He pauses before continuing. "You don't have to give it to me if you don't want to, I understand that having to stain your hands like this, even indirectly, is not something anyone wants to do. You don't owe me anything, Ursa, if you don't want to get involved I will respect that and still get you out of here, your decision won't change that."

The promise is unnecessary, she knows that even if he didn't tell her. In their first encounters Aang acted cold and cruel, indifferent and direct. She won't say the boy was justified, but now that she knows him a little better, she knows that since Aang took off his mask and told her all this, he trusts her enough and won't leave her here.

Still, she shakes her head and gets up from her spot, walks over to Zuko's bedside table and runs it from its place before crouching down on the loose board underneath it. With little to no effort she lifts it up and a paper with ingredients and steps to follow greets her, covered in cobwebs and dust which she quickly wipes off.

She walks over to Aang and holds out the recipe. The boy looks at her with pure appreciation and reaches out his own hand to take it.

She quickly withdraws her hand, lifting it out of the boy's reach. The Avatar looks at her with bewilderment and uncertainty, not knowing how to react to her actions.

"Tell me when you need to give the poison to Azulon." Her tone is soft but firm, the child in front of her blinks uncomprehendingly. "When the time is right, I will enter this castle and pour the poison into the bastard's teacup. I will see that he takes it and perishes."

Aang's eyes widen and he denies vehemently. "You don't have to, it's not fair for me to ask you to do the same thing Ozai forced you to do."

"Ozai didn't force me to do anything nor will he force me to do anything in this life thanks to you." She interrupted harshly. "I wouldn't kill for just anyone, Aang, but I will. For you, for me and for my children."

Aang doesn't quite listen to her, too immersed in his own thoughts as his head continues to shake in denial. "I don't understand, why would you get your hands dirty? Why?"

Aang's eyes bore into hers, searching her face for the answer or trying to dissect her thoughts even when he can't read them, desperate to understand.

And isn't that a good question, why would she do that? She should just give the paper to Aang and get the hell out of here, she should take this opportunity and let him take care of the rest. It's none of his business what happens next, she has so many opportunities to just walk away, but she can't.

She can't because the person in front of him is a child. One who has the weight of the world on his shoulders. One who is willing to sacrifice all his ideals and morals to try to save a world that has turned its back on him and done little to nothing for him. One who is younger than Lu Ten. One who is only twelve years old and his world collapsed and reshaped without his consent so many times. One who has to deal with a war that had started before he was even born. One who has to deal with all this because the adults failed him in a thousand different ways.

Aang, of twelve years old, who even if he has every right to be cruel and spiteful, who even if he has the right to not trust and just turn and run away, stays and tries to forgive and rebuild what was destroyed by the hands of others.

Aang, whose life was destroyed at the age of twelve and was forced to try to fix everyone's mistakes.

Aang, who is a child.

She thinks of Zuko, Azula and Lu Ten, thinks of how horrible it would be if they were in his position. She thinks about how wrong it is to drop all expectations on a child just because he controls three extra elements.

She's not brave, she's not strong, and she's not the smartest person. She is not a hero. But she is a mother and she is an adult and if she can do anything to make the weight on this child's shoulders lighten even a little bit, even a smidgen, she will. This child had a mother and a father, this child had people who cared and loved him. She thinks that if Zuko or Azula were in her position she wishes someone would do the same.

If she can do this for Aang, maybe she can be more proud of herself.

She takes Aang's face in her hands gently, forces him to look at it and says in the softest voice possible; "Because it is not a child's responsibility to get rid of monsters that terrify him at night. It is an adult's responsibility to get rid of them, to make them feel safe and loved." She pauses, allowing his words to settle and then says; "And I'm so sorry that you were forced to take on the role of an adult, that you had to calm my children's fears and have to comfort them when they cried, sorry that you had to be their comfort and security at times when even you were scared and confused. You shouldn't have had to do all that, I am so sorry for failing you, Aang."

Aang's eyes look at her, all surprise and pain, his little body trembles as if trying not to break as he stumbles over her words; "No, that's not...."

The child stumbles and tries to pull himself together so hard it hurts to watch. So used to comforting, to bringing security, to hugging and allowing others to cling to him that he has forgotten to cling to others.

She runs one of her hands down his back, afraid to break him.

She thinks of the air nomads, not the savages the Fire Nation has tried to convince her people they were, no, the real ones. The ones those forbidden scrolls in the royal library spoke of. She thinks of pacifism and forgiveness, love and freedom. She thinks of the air nomads as the great loving community they were, as the mediators, the travelers. She thinks of their homes, the temples, where they always returned to no matter how much time passed because even if they were adventurous and free-souled they would always return to the place they called home.

Think of vows not to kill, ideals of peace and compassion.

This child is not only willing to stain his hands and murder the rest of his innocence with it, but to stain the legacy that resides in him, to stain everything his people have taught him and what he himself has believed in just to make this world a little safer, to remove a monster from the minds of those he loves. All this child has left of his people are his teachings and the world demands that he throw them away and tarnish them for the greater good.

It is not fair.

"I'm sorry you were driven to tarnish the legacy of the people you loved like this, it must have been so hard to have to deal with this burden for so long."

A broken whimper comes from the boy's throat, his head shakes in denial, the boy looks at her pleadingly, as if asking her not to force him to face this hard truth;

"It must have been hard for a child."

And the child in front of him breaks like a twig at her words, the tears fall with no way to stop and the child throws himself against her chest, she wraps her arms around him and hugs him against her tightly, trying to hide him from the world.

"It's okay, I'll take this burden from your hands, let me do this for you."

And the boy lets out nothing but sobs mixed with a chant of; "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..."

She says nothing more, allows him to cry and hugs him tightly, runs her hands down his back trying to loosen the tension and knots that this little boy holds in himself, murmurs promises that everything will be alright.

And Aang allows it, allows himself to relax against her and accept the comfort he so desperately needed.

-

The children run to them as Aang carefully opens the door to Azula's room. Zuko is no longer wearing his pajamas, but dark-colored or black clothes, a deep blue cloak on his shoulders with his hood on, in his hands a mask of the Spirit of Dark Water.

"Aang!" Azula exclaims excitedly, who has similar clothes to Zuko but with a hooded bordo hood over her shoulders and a Dragon Emperor mask in her hands, jumping into Aang's arms. Aang lets out a chuckle and carries her in his arms before stroking Zuko's head with his free arm, who looks at them anxiously.

"You took too long." Zuko murmured, clinging to the Avatar's leg and looking at both of them unsure of what to say. "Is everything all right?"

Aang smiles. "Yes, we just had to have a grown-up talk."

Zuko looks at her, waiting to hear her verdict. Ursa smiles, trying to reassure him.

"That's true, although I wouldn't call it a grown-up talk." Aang groans at her words. "It's time to go, isn't it?"

Both children's eyes widen.

"Are you coming with us, mom?" Azula's voice asks ecstatically.

Aang shrinks and looks away guiltily, opens his mouth to say something, but Ursa interrupts him. "No, I won't go where you are going, dear. It would be too dangerous for everyone. But Aang will leave me in a place as safe as yours."

Azula and Zuko are a little discouraged, but nod. "That's good, mom." Zuko says, there was relief in his eyes. Azula nods in support still in the arms of Aang, who sighs with relief that he is not the bearer of bad news for once.

The Avatar puts Azula down and directs them to take their things, then looks at her almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, but we can't go get your things."

She shakes her head. "There's nothing too precious here anyway, everything I care about comes with me in one form or another."

Aang nods before turning to the rest; "It's time to go."

The children nod with determination, quickly putting on their masks.

The Avatar opens the door to the room and gestures with one hand for them to come in, Ursa blinks a couple of times, puzzled. Her children, who seemed as puzzled as she was but more willing to trust, do as Aang directs without hesitation.

"Won't we go through the window?"

Aang smiles mischievously. "Our means of transportation awaits us outside the palace."

She looks at him uneasily. "And how do you plan for us to get there?"

The boy puts on his mask and doesn't hesitate when he says; "By the exit door of the palace, of course."

Oh spirits, is all she can think as she steps out of the room and faces a hallway that won't be so desolate in a few minutes when the next patrol passes by. She looks anxiously at Aang, who seems far too relaxed.

She watches as the boy pulls a wide, forearm-length bottle from the bag he had tied around his waist. Aang effortlessly opens the cap of the bottle and puts it away in his pocket before moving his hand and starting to make upward circular motions, controlling the liquid and drawing it out of its container. The now empty bottle is quickly stowed in the bag again.

It's a considerable amount of liquid, but if Aang plans to force himself open with it, then this plan won't work.

As if reading her thoughts, Aang looks at her and she knows he is smiling at her even with his mask on. Zuko and Azula, a few steps away from her, gasp in surprise and fascination, mesmerized by the movements Aang makes as he performs waterbending, moving his arms in circles and flexing and flattening his hands at just the right moments.

Before long, the water boils and turns to steam that soon looks like a thick mist with every move Aang makes. The steam in the bottle is not big enough on its own, but there is enough moisture in the air to make it bigger.

Before long the vapor becomes a mist that surrounds them in a circle but does not touch them.

"Don't go near the mist, it has a sedative in it that would knock you unconscious in a matter of seconds once it enters your airways. I will clear the air around us so that nothing happens to us and I will keep the fog out of the circle I formed, please stay inside it."

And they begin to walk towards the palace entrance in silence. The guards they come across don't even have time to wonder what the sudden fog is before they pass out, they leave behind a trail of unconscious soldiers and servants, the only noise is the bodies hitting the ground. Azula claps her hands as if it were a funny magic trick and Zuko clutches her dress as if afraid the guards will suddenly come to life.

It gives Ursa chills how easy it is to walk all the way through to the palace gates, bodies fall without having time for anything and hit the ground hard, she feels shivers as, the few who notice the fog, are not able to run more than three steps before an accurate move by Aang fills their lungs with sedatives with a strong gust of wind.

His movements are a dance, they are smooth and graceful, he knows what he is doing. There is no unnecessary movement, he controls the elements with mastery he should not have at a young age. She realizes then, from the bottom of her being, that Aang could defeat Ozai without too much effort, maybe even Iroh.

Azulon doesn't even enter the game, not with his aging years.

As they are about to leave towards the entrance garden, where the great gates that keep the royal family separate and isolated from the rest of the world are located, Aang tells them to stop before moving a few steps ahead of the group and raising his arms.

With a couple of movements, the mist gathers in front of them before suddenly dispersing. She blinks a couple of times, fear gripping her for an instant thinking that her only defense had been dispersed. However, gusts of air begin to sweep through the garden, hitting the guards that are strategically distributed in the garden with the remainder of the remaining sedative.

Within seconds, there is no one to guard the gates; they are free to leave.

Her breath hitches, the disbelief of how easy it was hits her. She expects troops of armed soldiers to come, for something to take them by surprise, but there is nothing.

A tired sigh distracts her, Aang lowers his arms, and it is only now that she notices how shaky his arms were. Only now can she see the tension in his shoulders disappearing and the relief that floods the boy's body, no, this wasn't easy just because, Aang must have made plan after plan, studied the positions of the guards, their schedules and the easiest way to knock them out and leave quietly. All this must have taken years of preparation.

All for tonight, where they walk through the entrance garden and easily open the gates he always found impossible to cross, immovable, insurmountable. With an accurate movement of Aang, a blast of air mercilessly hits the massive gates and forces them wide open.

In front of her, the world welcomes her.

Aang blows a whistle she pulled from beneath her robes loudly. In less than a minute, a huge beast lands in front of them, with white fur and arrows similar to those of the avatar beside him. The boy pulls off his mask and smiles joyfully at them.

"Our steed has arrived! Meet Appa!"

(She notices how, after taking off, the Avatar pulls out a bottle a little larger than the previous one, and, with the moisture in the air, creates a large, thick fog that floods the palace in no time as the sky bison flies overhead.

"This should prevent unwanted observers." Aang explains quietly as he takes the leashes of his bison, Appa, and leads them away. His voice is calm and soft, obviously avoiding attracting the attention of Azula and Zuko, who are ecstatic about the fact that they are flying, listen to them.

She says nothing, instead nods. Better safe than sorry).

-

The night is old when they reach the Valley of Oblivion, Aang lands his flying bison, Appa, at the beginning of the Valley and helps her down.

She looks uncertainly at the Valley, however, Aang smiles encouragingly at her, although there is something bittersweet about it.

Zuko and Azula, who were ordered to stay behind by Aang and her, look at her with tears in their eyes.

She bends down and opens her arms, her children throw themselves against her and hug her tightly. She kisses their foreheads and tightens her arms around them, trying to express how much she loves them and how sorry she is for failing them in a thousand possible ways.

"Be good and kind, obey Aang, he will take good care of you." She murmurs through her tears, Azula nods vigorously and Zuko just sobs more. "I love you, this is not goodbye, okay? We'll see each other again, I promise."

She forces herself to separate from her children, who wipe their tears and try to give her their best smiles. She wants to cry, but she doesn't. She turns to Aang, who holds out his hand.

She takes it.

Aang turns to Azula and Zuko. "Stay with Appa, I'll be right back. Yes?"

The children nod and so, Ursa and Aang go into the valley.

Aang and Ursa walk hand in hand through the valley, observing the vegetation and the small ponds in the valley. Aang guides her and she follows him, neither says anything, there is not much more to say. Finally, after long hours of searching, they see him; the blue-gray wolf spirit, the companion of the Mother of Faces.

The wolf, who was drinking water in a small pond, raised his head at the sound of their footsteps and stared at them. Ursa expects him to flee, but no, instead his eyes bore into hers. Ursa almost backs away, but Aang squeezes her hand as a warning that this was a bad idea.

It's long minutes, the wolf inspects them thoroughly before turning and walking off in an unfamiliar direction.

Beside her, Aang sighs with relief and turns to look at her. "I managed to communicate with him, he is willing to guide you to his owner, you should reach her in a couple of hours or a day at most."

She blinks. "Really?"

The avatar nods and, with some regret, releases her hand before forcing his lips to curve upward in a breath. "Yeah, I guess this is goodbye for now. I'll be back in a couple of months, when the Fire Nation winds down a bit and you've settled into your new life a bit, long enough for security to let down and I can get in without worrying about being seen.."

Fear strikes her. "Won't you come with me?"

The Avatar shakes his head. "I can't accompany you there, the mother of faces won't like it if I intervene any more than I already have, and I'm not much to her liking." He pauses a little before saying calmly; "But she'll listen to you, I'm sure she'll like you very much."

Something sounds wrong in his words, hollow. She wonders, if it's not when she was forced to leave the palace and leave Zuko and Azula alone that made Aang despise her, if it's now where she commits the crime that made him do it. "Is this where I make that decision that made you hate me?"

Aang's face contorts; guilt, sadness, pain. He averts his gaze to the ground quickly and shakes his head, but says nothing and that's enough.

"I suppose you're not going to tell me what it was, are you?"

The avatar says nothing, for a moment she thinks he won't answer, but then he replies; "I'm not going to intervene, it's your decision to make after all." He sighs before raising his head and looking at her kindly. "Anyway, I think I understand a little better why you made that decision, even if I don't like it."

She sighs because she knows she won't get any more out of Aang. "I understand, Aang. Thank you for everything."

The avatar nods and she turns around to follow the blue-gray wolf, who is still waiting for her a few feet away from her.

Her footsteps stop before they begin, she turns around and hugs the boy. "Please take care of Zuko and Azula."

Two arms wrap around her back and she feels the child's head tucked into her chest.

"I wouldn't think of doing anything else."

She slowly pulls away before gently placing a hand on Aang's face. "Take care of yourself too, you're just as important as the two of them, Aang, never forget that."

Aang doesn't respond right away, but he doesn't look away, she can see the uncertainty in his eyes before he nods. "Okay".

That's all she can ask of him.

"See you later, Aang."

"See you later, Ursa."

With that farewell, she turns and starts toward the blue-gray wolf. When he's right next to her, the big wolf starts walking again, slow enough that she doesn't have to trot or run to catch up, they walk side by side and soon, when she turns around, the thick fog typical of the valley prevents her from spotting Aang.

She smiles reassuringly before turning back.

The sun's rays begin to tint the dark blue of the sky to yellows and oranges, chasing away some of the mist that surrounds her. Its warmth heralds the arrival of dawn and her new life.

-

The sun's rays illuminated the sky, tinting it orange, red and violet, they couldn't see the sun kissing the cold earth and welcoming a new day, enclosed inside their small fort with large walls as they were, but could see the sky tinged by its colors from the hole that the dome had uncovered and roofless.

His parents were inside their home, going back and forth trying to prepare a big and hearty breakfast and checking for the fortnight to see if the room for their new guests was ready for them. Sokka came out an hour ago with Katara at his side, anxious to be the first to greet them and too bored to be inside the igloo.

Both of his parents had been with a tense and anxious energy, swarming around the house with last minute preparations and cleaning, tidying and checking that everything was perfect as if whoever was coming was the leader of some sister tribe to their own. It was absurd how nervous they were, it was just Aang.

And Zuko and Azula, he supposed.

His gift was clenched in his hands, waiting with him for Zuko.

He closes her eyes for a few moments to let them rest. It's early, too early, to be awake. Katara, curled up on her side and half asleep. She should be asleep by this time, and so should he, but Sokka insisted on receiving them. It's been five days since Aang left on his last trip to the Fire Nation to find Zuko and Azula, four days since it was Zuko's birthday, he wants to be the first to greet them and give Zuko the gift right away, he wants to see him and know what he really looks like. He never knew what his pen pal looked like.

He opens his eyes with some regret, however the dream is lost when he sees a white and gray spot in the sky, flying over the tribe and descending more and more towards them. Excitement hits him so hard that he lets out a gasp.

"Mom! Dad! They're here!"

Katara wakes up with his cry and looks up at the sky in a daze, trying to understand what was happening before her blue eyes catch sight of the flying bison and a smile floods her features.

Sokka runs with Katara following just a few steps behind him towards Appa, who lands silently and softly a few feet in front of their home. They watch Aang jump off Appa after a few seconds, with both arms carrying two children who look around with a mixture of wariness and awe.

"Aang!" He shouts loudly, Aang finally notices his presence and smiles when his eyes meet his. He crouches down and sets the children down carefully before opening his arms and receiving him.

Sokka lunges hard and narrowly knocks down the Airbender, who hugs him tightly. Katara arrives shortly after and joins in the embrace with excitement. Aang lets out a giggle and clings to them, he can feel Aang's big smile against his shoulder.

He has missed Aang a lot.

"Aang." His mother's voice makes them break away from the embrace, he watches with a smile at his mother, who approaches with a relieved and loving look at the small group, however he stops when her eyes stray to the children Aang brought.

Said children cling to Aang's cloak and half-hide behind Aang. Sokka steps back and forces Katara back, noticing how scared Zuko and Azula looked. Even if he wanted to approach and talk, he feared scaring them more.

Why do they look so terrified?

"Sokka, Katara." His father's voice distracted him, he was a few feet away, he didn't try to get closer to Aang or Zuko and Azula. Instead, he waved his hand in a signal for them to come closer to him and give Aang and the two children clinging to their clothes some space.

Reluctantly, he took Katara's hand and backed up until he reached his father, who gathered Katara in his arms and rested one of his hands on his shoulder. His father's eyes were dark with worry, yet he tried to give him a reassuring smile when he noticed he was looking at him.

"What's wrong with them, why are they scared?" He whispered to his father, watching as Aang whispered reassuring promises to Azula and Zuko, urging them to stop hiding behind him. His mother respectfully stood a few feet away from him, giving them room to move forward in their own time.

His father denied. "They're trying to process everything, it's a new place with new people."

That didn't make sense. "We've known each other, I've been sending letters to Zuko for a long time! And to Azula! though only to her for a couple of months..." he admitted the latter with some embarrassment. His father let out a soft chuckle, Katara watched the scene in front of her in rapt attention.

"Yes, but we've never seen him face to face, right? We have to give them time to understand that they're safe and that we're the people who spoke to them through Aang."

He thinks about it a bit more and supposes it makes some sense.

Aang finally convinces Zuko and Azula to come out from behind him, the little hands of each clinging to one of Aang's. With small, hesitant steps, they take a few steps until they are both stuck to their sides, not a big difference, but an improvement to them being hidden behind him, he supposes.

Aang's hands carefully release from Azula and Zuko's eager hands and instead land on their shoulders, giving them a little nudge to stand just in front of him. Zuko grabs Azula's hand and Azula clings to his grip, both of them looking like they are about to run away from there.

His mother takes a few steps forward calmly, her whole body relaxed and calm, she doesn't make any sudden movements, Sokka is reminded of when she does just the same when trying to approach an accidentally injured bear-dog puppy.

Finally when she is only a few steps in front of the frightened duo of children, she crouches down and kneels, putting herself at the same height as them. Aang squeezes Zuko and Azula's shoulders in an attempt to convey confidence to them.

Zuko looks at her warily and Azula with thinly disguised nervousness.

"This is Kya, guys."

Zuko's eyes widen with hesitant recognition, Azula doesn't change her tense posture, but seems more curious than scared.

He sees her mother nod. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Zuko and Azula."

Sokka doesn't know what expression his mother is doing, with her back turned as she is from him and his father and sister, but there must be something in this one, because it's enough to make the children relax a little and look at her with wary curiosity and anticipation.

Their mother continues; "Welcome to the South Pole, we have been waiting for you for a long time."

His mother's voice is soft and affectionate, she must be smiling, he realizes.

Zuko and Azula seem to be able to breathe again, they detach from Aang a little bit and watch Kya for a long while, looking for something.

Kya must have done something right, because Zuko and Azula smile hesitantly back at her. It's a weak, shy and somewhat nervous smile, but a smile after all.

His body relaxes without realizing the tension he had been holding in, fresh air enters his lungs, being able to breathe properly again. Even his father's hand that had been lightly squeezing his shoulder finally relaxes.

He believes that everything will be all right.

And, by the tired but hopeful smile on Aang's face, he believes that Aang also thinks the same as he.