1. In the Beginning

**AN: Long into chapter is long. AUs take a lot of setting up! Told in Katara's POV.**

* * *

When I was only eight years old, my mother was murdered.

I saw things children should never see.

You should never see your mother's throat cut, her life blood gently pumping out onto the trampled snow floor of our hut. Or the way her eyes aren't quite sightless with death yet, and you're the last thing she sees before she is gone forever. Screams of anguish that no child should know were trapped in my chest for years and years without being satisfied.

* * *

When I was only nine years old, the Fire Nation stopped their quest for world domination.

My entire village hadn't actually known until months later when the prisoners of war came home to us. Most of them were too old for me to know or to really take interest in, and the war was such a vague thing to me. All I knew of war is that it had taken my mother from me before I had the chance to blink.

* * *

When I was only ten years old, Fire Lord Iroh came to power.

He had already succeeded his father, Azulon, upon his death. The untimely heart attack had turned the great Dragon's head homeward from his siege at Ba Sing Se. And while he wasn't looking, his son very nearly slipped from his earthly grasp.

Devastated by the near loss of his only child, Fire Lord Iroh retreated from the Earth Kingdom and from the war. While the Fire Nation troops withdrew over the course of a year, he became enlightened in the Spirit World.

* * *

When I was only eleven years old, the Fire Lord and his son visited my village.

My dad and Lu Ten's dad talked a long time while we waited in my home. He was so mature and cool at twenty one, but we had little to say to each other. We came from different worlds and with ten years between us, there was little overlap of interest. We were sitting quietly at the table when they came back for us. I remember my dad's face looked strained. It wasn't until they had gone that he told me what the grownups had decided.

I was going to marry the prince when I was older. That didn't seem too bad, because who doesn't want to marry a prince and live in a palace. It was the second part when he said it, the part where I had to leave everything I ever knew.

Eleven isn't too old to cry on your dad's shoulder or let your snot soak into his tunic while you sobbed. But eleven isn't too young to enter your daughter into a marriage pact to ensure political stability. I wanted to feel betrayed down to my marrow, but it was all explained so matter-of-factly, how could I do anything against it? This was a strong current I couldn't swim against, and I'd just have to be content with it sweeping me to unknown lands.

* * *

When I was only twelve years old, my father bundled our little family on a Fire Nation steam ship for the first time.

In my mind I can still see the beautiful, pure white of the far away snow and the ice floes that soon replaced the shrinking land mass. I asked my father what the Fire Nation will be like, how much snow they had. I was appalled to learn there's no snow _ever_ and it's hot all the time. How did other people live without the cold, the ice?

When we arrived it is so hot that I had to shed my parka. Dad and Sokka had done so a long time ago, but I clung stubbornly to it until the end. Everyone was dressed in reds and golds and pinks and blacks. My little family of three stood out like a sore thumb with our blues.

We were received by the Fire Lord and his son, who still makes me blush since he's supposed to be my future husband. I couldn't look him in the eye.

Our stay was short, only a week and a half. I was grateful to leave when the time came. I hated this foreign, scary place full of strange people. Take for instance Azula. We were of the same age but she talked about hurting people and laughed about it. Her friends, Ty Lee and Mai, weren't so bad, only they're two opposite ends of the spectrum and that's pretty weird too. But the person I couldn't stand at all was _Zuko_.

First of all, he was too nice. That's suspicious in a Fire Nationer, because everyone knows they have at least a fourth of evil in their body. Except for the Fire Lord, who used to give me sweets when my dad wasn't looking.

Second, he was immediate friends with Sokka. How was that not a red flag? When I wanted to play with Sokka instead of creepy Azula, he told me he and Zuko were talking about important stuff and I couldn't play with them. Stupid Zuko had stolen my brother away from me.

Third, he always used to shut up or leave with excuses when I tried to talk to him. At the time I thought Fire Nationers were just flat out weird. Maybe he wasn't nice, maybe he was just "polite" in the place of no snow. Ever.

I was glad to leave, but I knew we'd be back. I hoped that next time would be better.

* * *

When I was only thirteen years old, we visited the palace of the Fire Lord again.

This time I felt more confident in myself. I was another year older and another year wiser. And I was determined not to let stupid Zuko get in the way of my good time.

I'd saved up all of my infatuation for Prince Lu Ten, and he's certainly crush-worthy, but those stylized sideburns still remind me of his father. In fact, he laughed when I told him so. At twenty three he was even more awe inspiring than at twenty one.

We spent much more time together and he was very patient with my young foolishness. It's still hard to think of us as a couple in the romantic sense when I mostly feel he is like another older brother.

"Prince Lu Ten," I began one day while we strolled through the gardens.

"Please," be said, "call me Lu Ten."

"Lu Ten," I tried again. Dropping the formalities still makes me feel like a part of the inner circle. "Are we really to be married?"

He didn't stop but I heard his step hiccup on the gravel of the path. He kept his composure as we continued arm in arm.

"I believe one day, my Lady," he said quietly. I nodded my head because he only confirmed what I already knew.

"Please, call me Katara," I said in an imitation of him. It breaks whatever seriousness had come over him and he smiled. My heart sinks a little as we mindlessly chatted, about the weather or whatever, because I realized he didn't want to be stuck with a kid like me. He probably had someone he loved that he'd much rather marry and it's this that continues to make me unhappy.

I went to my secret place, a small alcove in a lonely hallway, and I contemplated how we both were missing out on true love. I knew I could grow to like him, he was very kind to me. He would be a worthy ruler one day. But true love is very important when you're thirteen, so I sobbed quietly for our tragically true-loveless futures.

"Who's there?" I guess my crying hadn't been as soft as I thought. I didn't say anything in hopes they'd go away. Instead, I saw Zuko peering back at me. Of all the rotten luck, I thought to myself.

"What do you want," I sniffed, swiping at the tears on my cheek.

"Why are you crying?" He had asked, crouching down to bring our faces level.

"I'm not crying." We both knew it was pretty obvious that I was lying, but he hadn't called me out on it.

"Well, what are you doing here?" I scowled at him. I expected him to leave when it was obvious there wasn't anything to worry himself with, but he hadn't budged a bit.

"It's my secret place," I muttered reluctantly. "Not much of a secret now."

"I live here, there aren't many places that are secrets to me," he pointed out helpfully.

"Is it weird to live in such a big place?"

"You mean you don't live in a palace?" He asked, his eyes widening. "How can you be a princess and not live in a palace?"

"But I'm not a princess," I protested.

"You must be, if your dad's in charge." I considered this point but shook my head all the same. The only person who ever called me a princess was Sokka, but he was just making fun of me.

"No one's ever called me a princess."

"My uncle does. And my cousin. And me, I guess."

"Your cousin calls me a princess?" I asked, and I knew I seemed all starry eyed. He barked a laugh and I asked him what was so funny.

"You, you just went from crying about something to falling in love!"

"I'm not in love with him," I blustered. It's totally a coincidence that my face grew hot. "I'm only thirteen!"

"The legal marrying age here is fifteen, or maybe sixteen," he said, scrunching up his nose in thought. "So you're only a couple of years away from the wedding

"Does everyone know about that?" The groan was audible in my voice.

"It's a pretty big deal, yeah," he nodded. "I think everyone in the world knows."

I groan again and hid my head in my hands. It felt weird knowing I was famous on a worldwide scale.

"Don't you want to marry Lu Ten?" He asked curiously.

"I guess I don't mind, but what about our true loves?"

"True love isn't real," he scoffed immediately. I hated him all over again.

"Take that back!" I gasped, smacking his knee for good measure.

"Ow!" He whined, but I think he was mostly just surprised. He jerked backward when I lashed out and plopped onto his butt. "I won't take it back because it's true."

"Who died and made you the love expert?" I stuck my tongue out at him to emphasize I believe he was not, in fact, an expert.

"I'm fifteen so it automatically makes me an expert," he boasted, as well as anyone can while sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"I bet you've never even kissed a girl," I challenged right back. Because honestly, who would even kiss that liar.

"I have too! I kissed Mai on the cheek," he insisted, giving the evidence before it was asked. Maybe he was capable of learning after all, I thought, but I wouldn't let him off the hook that easy.

"Cheek doesn't count. Gotta be the lips." He tried to weasel his way out of that one but I was stubborn in my criteria.

"Well, you're just a kid. You can't judge me," he said after he had enough. I could tell he was getting angry and he even stood up to leave. He hesitated a moment, like I should've begged him to sit back down and take back what I said. But I didn't, and he walked away in a huff.

"I can do whatever I want," I called after him. "I'm a princess!"

* * *

When I was only fourteen years old, Lu Ten officially proposed to me.

I tried to be excited but I felt as if I hardly knew him, my husband to be. All of our talk was superficial and not interesting in the least. How could I know a person when the conversations never went more than skin deep?

In the Fire Nation, everything is ritualized. Including the exchange of gold rings, which symbolize our engagement to each other. It was followed by an exchange of gifts between the families, which was in turn followed by a meal. In this case, it happened to be lunch.

I had not seen Zuko for a year and Azula for longer. This was the first time I had seen their father, the Fire Lord's brother, Lord Ozai, and their mother, Lady Ursa. It was clear even then that their family dynamic was bad, to say the least. Zuko obviously took after his mother, and no doubt Azula was a mini-Ozai.

Lord Ozai made blithe comments about the Water Tribe as a whole, snide remarks sprinkled in his dialogue whenever he opened his mouth. I could feel my father slowly losing his patience with the man until Iroh intervened, suggesting that his brother would be more content elsewhere. He left, stalking out of the room on stiff legs and the tense mood settled.

I glanced up at Zuko and decided that sixteen suited him much better than fifteen. Our eyes meet and I wondered if he thought the same of me. He looked away so quickly I have to question if I had imagined it but no, he kept stealing those glances at me. I smiled into my soup and speculated his thoughts.

Late that night I snuck out of my quarters and visited my alcove to think. I could've thought just as easily in my room, I knew, but something about the familiarity of that small hidden place made me think of home.

I sat and thought about the future, guessing what will be expected of me. I've already learned basic Fire Nation etiquette, but I suspected I'd need training in court life and what my position entailed. Having babies and raising them is the main goal I assumed. Our children would be an unbreakable covenant between my home and the Fire Nation. I let out an exasperated sigh, hating to be a pawn in the game of nations. Apparently that was some sort of cue for my late night stalker.

"Katara?" The voice was reticent, asking me to confirm my identity. I tried to peer into the blackness but all I saw was more shadows. I thought to match the voice…

"Zuko?" I didn't bother to hide my surprise very well. I'm sure it was all over my face if there had been any light to see by. As soon as I think it there was a flame in his palm, making my eyes water at the sudden brightness.

"Sorry," he said, dimming the fire. In this half light the shadows made him mysteriously handsome.

"How did you know I'd be here?"

"I was going to get some water and I saw you come out of your room. Had to make sure you weren't making mischief," he shrugged, as if it only made sense and I was too stupid to see it.

"That's called stalking, y'know," I pointed out, but he called it national security. I thought he'd gone to the side of his father then, but I could see by that lopsided smile that he was joking. An easy silence hung between us for a heartbeat.

"I'm glad you're back. I missed you...'re brother, he's a pretty fun guy."

"You missed me?" I teased. I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but we had set up a writing correspondence before my departure last year. "Those letters aren't enough for such good old chums?"

"I didn't say I missed you," well, not directly. "But since you asked..." He grinned, the fire in his hand growing a little brighter. Zuko was becoming a true friend in this world of near strangers, a valuable asset.

"Do you remember what we talked about last time, right here?" I wanted that to be more of an inner dialogue but the tongue is prone to slipping my thoughts, especially when I want them quiet.

"More like we fought about it."

"You're the one who got touchy about it!" I gasped. As if he could pin it all on me, the nerve!

"I still haven't done it yet," he said after we're through laughing at our slightly younger selves.

"Hm?" I'd forgotten momentarily what we were talking about. He looked so intense, those eyes of his were perfect for searing into your brain. "Hey, cut out the fire, it's getting too bright again."

"Sorry." We were enveloped in the darkness as in the beginning.

"And what about Mai? I thought you two had a thing?" Now we returned to the topic in question. It had been hard to concentrate with that brightness.

"That was a while ago. I don't think she's really interested."

"You'll never know until you try." I was still blinking rapidly to dispel the ghosts of light from my eyes. He fell silent and I thought I hit a nerve. "If it makes you feel better, I've never kissed anyone. Not even on the cheek." At this point I finally began to see his silhouette.

"Lu Ten?" He didn't need to say more than that before I understood his question. I shook my head until I remembered that he couldn't see me, so I answered aloud. He was silent again for so long I thought he'd either fallen asleep or left.

I can still feel his searching fingers find my shoulder in the darkness, like tendrils of climbing vines. So soft and curious they were as his hand skittered up my neck to my face. His hands were so warm but my cheeks were steadily catching up, and not from his hand.

"Katara," he whispered hoarsely into the dark. The memory still gives me goosebumps. "Can I kiss you?"

My heart was racing, thrumming so hard everyone in a two mile radius must have thought there was an earthquake. I felt his breath ghost over my skin and it made me shiver. Even then I knew that is what first kisses should be like, the excitement and the knowing, so I whispered,

"Yes."

In a different light, we would've been shy. Maybe he wouldn't have asked at all, if it wasn't for the darkness to hide us from each other. I felt his shaky thumb stroke my cheek and I was glad that we were both nervous.

Our noses bumped and posed as an awkward problem, making us both laugh nervously. With enough attempts our lips found one another. It was short and there were no fireworks, but the inside of my head buzzed like a thousand hornets.

"I shouldn't have done that," I heard him say distantly. I wondered what he meant, but he explained. "This isn't right. You're engaged to my _cousin..."_

"No." Somehow I knew what we did was a little wrong, but it was just a kiss. "It's just a kiss. We were just getting our firsts under our belts." When I echoed my thoughts to him he seemed to buy into it.

"Right. No big deal," he replied, finding my hand and squeezing it. Was it supposed to reassure me? "Well, I should really head back. You want an escort?"

"I'd like to stay a little longer, if you don't mind." I had plenty more to think about than before. His hand lingered before slipping out of my grasp and I heard his soft steps echoing off the stone walls, each more faint than the last. Only when I heard complete silence did I touch my own lips, wondering.

It _was_ just a kiss. _It was._

* * *

When I was only fifteen, I said goodbye to my home for the last time.

All of my scant possessions (my mother's necklace, my favorite parka, the tons of letters from Zuko) are packed in a small trunk. It's funny when you look at all of your worldly possessions in one place. Am I so small, is my life so small? I was told my clothes wouldn't be needed, no doubt I'd have an elaborate wardrobe full of silks waiting for me.

I told my father and brother to go ahead of me one we docked, explaining that I needed to freshen up after being on the ship for so long. I splashed some water on my face and ran a comb through my hair, taking care to braid it back again. I gave myself a long, hard look in the mirror. I'm going to be a true princess someday soon, I try to remind myself, but I just can't see it. Even if I wore the crown I probably couldn't see it.

You'd think I'd know my way around by now, the few times I've been here. Somehow I've managed to take a wrong turn or not taken a turn when I should've. Desperation made me want to sit down and give up, but I heard someone coming out of a room ahead.

"Hello, I'm...how is it that I always run into you?" Because when I saw who it was, my heart skipped erratically, beating a foreign but familiar tune. How many times had I felt that rhythm when the mail came in?

"Must be fate," he grins, opening his arms wide and I all but leapt into the embrace. Zuko smells like home in this place that I'm slow to love. Not home like the smell of frigid wind or seal jerky, but home like the spices in the stew and the smoke from the fire. Home like a friend's comfort in a time of need.

"As you can see, I'm a little lost," I said, pulling back from him. "I'm trying to find my way to your uncle."

"More like extremely lost," he chuckled. "This is the part of the palace where my family lives. That's my room," he explained, gesturing at the door he came from. "You're nearly on the opposite side of the palace."

"Whoops," I grinned sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders. "Can you lead me?"

"I suppose I can. It's not like I wasn't about to go to sparring practice," he rolled his eyes with a smile. "Come on, it won't take long."

We filled each other in on what had happened between the last letters and the present, which wasn't a whole lot. The silence afterwards was easy and I fiddled with the ring on my finger, a habit of mine now, and it made me think.

"Zuko," I said, breaking the quiet. "Why aren't you married yet?" His brow shot up his forehead so fast it might have stretched his skin.

"I'm sure I will be eventually, but Uncle feels bad about making Lu Ten marry for politics. No offense," he added quickly. "But he wants Azula and I to marry who we wish."

"I don't think Azula would ever get married," I can't help saying, and we both have a laugh at her expense. "Do you think you'll marry Mai?"

"She's not like when we were kids. I don't know," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm sure true love will find you," I replied, trying to keep the wistful sigh out of my voice.

"I don't believe in that, remember?"

"Oh right, that's for kids isn't it?" I stuck my tongue out at him. I didn't care if I was still young, I believed there was truly someone for everyone. Even Azula.

"There are a lot of people in the world, how am I supposed to find my one and only?" His sarcasm hadn't put me off, it's only a repeat of some older conversations.

"Fate," I sung with a wink.

"You're so full of it," he sighed, stopping at a door a few paces later. "Get in there, I'm sure they've been waiting forever."

"I'll talk to you later," I promised, and I could feel his eyes on me until I slipped into the room. Iroh gave me a hearty welcome and I explained my tardiness with embarrassment.

I spent the rest of the week with my dad and Sokka. I knew I could visit whenever I wanted, but it felt like I'd never see them again.

On their last day I sat on my father's bed, my feet brushing the ground as I swung my feet. It's my last chance to ask him a question I've never asked this whole time.

"Dad, why do I have to to marry the prince? I know it unites our nations," I added before he could misunderstand my question. "But why me?" He paused his packing and took a seat beside me.

"People in a position of power are seen in a different light. Since I'm the chief of the tribe, that puts me at the top. And it puts you," he said, poking my belly like he used to when I was small. "In a position of power too. If the Fire Lord had a daughter instead, you can be sure Sokka would be the one getting married."

"He's too dumb to be married," I laughed. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recalled having a similar conversation about Azula. My dad gave me one of those kind smiles, like he was remembering something about my childhood. "Why can't he marry Azula?"

"Well it might sound a little silly to you, but a marriage to tie our nation's governments together is strongest when it's between the children of the direct leaders. If Ozai was Fire Lord," he grimaced. "You'd probably marry Zuko, or Sokka would marry Azula. As it stands now, it would be an insult to offer a marriage lower than your position demands."

"But I'm not—"

"Not a princess, but they love their social hierarchies here. It makes them feel better if we just play along." He smiled at me like we were sharing a secret, rubbing circles on my back. It makes me feel better. A little. "I'm sorry this has to happen to you, Katara."

I am too, but I kept it to myself. I wanted these last few memories to be good ones. Instead, I reached around and hugged him fiercely. I wished he wouldn't go, I wished a marriage contract wasn't needed to strengthen the peace. I wished my dad wasn't chief, so someone else's daughter could marry into the Fire Nation royalty.

It felt like they're gone too soon, the ship a speck on the horizon and I was still standing at the docks. I clung to Zuko like a shipwrecked victim clings to a rock in a storm. My fiancé was in some important meeting or another, but he sent his regret for not being there. I was glad he wasn't there because it's Zuko I needed, it's Zuko I want to be my pillar to lean on. I cried small tears into the sleeve of my gown as we were carried back to the palace via palanquin.

"You cry a lot," he said offhandedly. I was familiar with his strange brand of humor but I only had sullen eyes for him.

"I've been left to call this place my home now. I bet you wouldn't be so excited if _you _had to move to the South, for instance."

"If you were there with me, I think I could go just about anywhere and feel at home."

"You and your stupid poetry," I grumbled, shoving his shoulder gruffly. He wasn't really helping.

"Well me and my stupid poetry are what you have for a long time," he smirked, as if he had won a game of Pai Sho and I didn't know it yet. I wasn't in the mood to trade wits with him so I crossed my arms and stared at the silk walls until I could get away from him.


	2. Bargain

**AN: This chapter is significantly shorter than the intro and only covers a short span of time. I cut it short for good reason though, don't fret! In the next chapter we shall talk babies. :)**

* * *

I am sixteen on my wedding day.

They dress me up in a red and white embroidered gown that feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. It's probably not even an exaggeration. They paint my face and stick ornaments in my hair and I have to sit still so I don't mess anything up. I long to see Zuko but it is forbidden for any man to see the bride before her husband sees her. That also means I can't see my brother or my father, but I know they'll be at the ceremony. Knowing makes me feel a fraction better.

I glance into the mirror and have to do a double take. Is that really me, with those red lips and the crazy hairdo? I find myself touching the glass, making sure this was real. I touch the golden flames in my hair and the drops of fire hanging from my earlobes. How can that really be me, looking like a porcelain doll?

It's not really me, I decide. I'm not fire and finery, I'm cool water and simplicity. I'm just a girl being forced to grow up. I turn abruptly, feeling the anger boil in the pit of my stomach. I want to scream and cry about how unfair everything is, that someone else should marry the prince. Instead it's just me, alone in this room and waiting to bring honor to my people. Well, they can take their honor and—

A soft knock interrupts my silent tirade and I honestly try to calm my face before opening the door.

"Who spit in your bean curd?" A shaggy headed Zuko is _not_ who I expected to see. I drag him in by the front of his robes and close the door quickly.

"What are you doing here?" I try to be stern with him, because that's the only way he learns right from wrong, but I can't deny the fact that I'm thrilled to see him.

"I'm here to see you, of course," he grins cheekily and oh, how I want to slap him. Slap him and maybe kiss him hard on the mouth. I swallow both urges.

"Tradition," I remind him, just about to enter full lecture mode, but he finishes the thought for me.

"Dictates a man can't see the bride before her husband, blah blah blah, I know." He waves his hand as if to sweep away such outdated nonsense. "Heard it a thousand times. Original royal here."

"There must be some extra special reason you're here, or you'd wait until after the ceremony," I point out. He runs a hand through his hair, something I've come to recognize as a nervous habit. "What is it?" I ask, my eyes narrowing.

"I wanted to tell you...something important," he says, suddenly so shy like the kid he used to be. His distracted earlobe tugging mixed with the hesitation begins to make me nervous.

"Spit it out before someone comes and sees us!" I insist. I have zero time for his shy boyishness at the moment, but I'm also frightened at what he might say.

"Katara," he begins again, more serious this time. More determined than ever to tell me what we both don't need hanging between us. A soft knock stops us both dead in our tracks. As quietly as we can, I stuff him into the tall wardrobe and bid whoever it was enter.

An employed woman simpers over me, so flighty all of these people are. She gives me the message, her true purpose, and pats my hair into place before leaving.

"It was a maid," I whisper, not daring to raise my voice. "It's almost time. You should get out of here."

"Not until I tell you how I feel," he asserts, stepping back into the room.

"We both know how you feel, please don't make it any harder for us," I beg. "Please." I can't help it, my hand moves on its own. I brush back the stray hairs from his face before I remember myself. These games we play have dangerous consequences.

"You ask me to stop but your actions tell me a different story," he mutters. I feel his hand shake against my cheek and I remember the first time our lips brushed. So innocent it had been, but look where it has brought us. "If only things were different, I'd be the one waiting for you out there."

"Something tells me we are always so teasingly close in our incarnations. We're always one step away..."

"I won't let you get any farther from me." He pulls me close and I squeeze him tight, careful not to smear the paint on my face. This past year has been trying for the both of us, so tantalizing and maddening. So many secret meetings and suppressed kisses I cannot count them.

"You have to leave, someone will start to wonder where you are." He tilts his head, asking for a kiss. I don't want questions about my missing lip color, so I touch my fingers lightly to my lips and touch his own.

"I'll see you later?" He asks. We both know it's doubtful, now that I'll be sharing a room with his cousin. I nod anyway and hope for the best. Tonight, I know, my husband and I will begin the effort of conceiving our first child. I cringe from the idea.

I balk even at the thought of kissing him at the end of the ceremony. We have never kissed before, not on the lips. It's always been chaste pecks on the cheek or hand or something, never the sweet meeting of lips that his cousin and I share. I can only close my eyes and pretend it's Zuko I'm kissing, Zuko I'm marrying in front of thousands of people.

After the ceremony comes the celebration. I am able to freely converse with my father and brother, both of whom I have missed every day. Most of the time I am occupied with the nobility as they congratulate Lu Ten and I. They wish us a happy union and many children, which is what we're supposed to wish for I guess. I smile until my cheeks hurt and I have to rest my cheeks behind the sleeve of my robe, trying to look the part of a demure princess.

My husband is very quiet these days, but I suppose that's what maturity does to you. We have given up on finding common ground to bond over and see the marriage as a thing that must be borne. Well, he's never said that exactly, but it's more in the way he acts.

I have never seen Iroh lose any enthusiasm for my marrying his son and it doesn't stop today. In fact, it appears to multiply significantly. The man is so jovial and pleasant all of the time it's hard to remember he's actually Fire Nation. But then again, so is Zuko.

With that thought my eyes search for him automatically. It is a habit to seek him out in a crowd, to find someone I feel close to. There he is, so far across the room I can't pick out the details of him. Not that I need to see him to know him. I'm very acquainted with the color of his lips, the soft slip of his hair across my fingers.

"My Lady," Lu Ten murmurs at my side, and I realize I've been absent from the conversation for too long. Smiling always works though, these nobles assume I'm so pathetically stupid.

"Perhaps she is tired, it is getting quite late," one of their number titters, a woman if I had to take a guess, and I search for the moon with invisible feelers. The hour is late, I suppose, but I feel much more alive in the night. The moon gives me strength as a waterbender, Master Pakku says.

I can tell he only has a grudging respect for me, if anything. Being asked politely to teach the last Southern bender by the nation that nearly went to war with the whole world was probably more than a little grating. I could tell he didn't want to be here, so far from his home, but we had bonded over that fact as best we could. It gives me hours of distraction in this gilded cage.

"Yes, perhaps it is best that my wife and I retire for the evening." Oh, ever the diplomat Lu Ten. He was definitely bred for this role.

I have no choice but to follow, being attached at the arm with the man. He bids his father good night, which is in turn met with disappointed noises from whoever surrounds us. Iroh makes a speech, his fifth one that night, and we are chased by applause down the long hallway.

I feel like I can finally breathe, away from all of those piercing gazes and oppressive expectations. I pull my arm from his as we turn a corner, glad I don't have to keep the pretense up with him. At least Lu Ten understands.

Our marriage suite is simplistic in his (and my own) preferred style. We don't look at each other as we dress for bed.

As we lie next to each other in the darkness, I am afraid. I wait, the covers drawn up to my nose. I've had this pep talk several times from several people. I know what to expect.

"I can feel the tension in your body from here," he sighs. No a disappointed sigh, I think, but something more like suppressed amusement. He doesn't move at all and I stay right where I am. "I know about you and Zuko. It's fine," he says before I can even draw breath to deny it. "You didn't ask for this union. I can only imagine what it must be like to know who you would marry before you were thirteen."

I am relieved that Lu Ten understands me on the most basic of levels. It gives me hope for the future. I am more overwhelmingly terrified that he knows about Zuko and I. If he knows, who else? After all the precautions we've taken it must still be so blatantly obvious for Lu Ten, a man I hardly spend time with, to notice. Or maybe he heard it from someone else. We have to be much, _much_ more careful.

"I will allow this affair on one condition," he continues. He definitely has my attention now. "I only ask that you bear me a son. Any child after that can be his."

"Okay," I croak and clear my throat. "Okay." It's not a bad deal or a particularly difficult one. We just have to conceive a male child and then I never have to worry about sharing this bed again.

It isn't long after this night that a schedule evolves. Once a week we try to make my young, fertile womb ripen with child. Mostly I just close my eyes and wait until it's all over. Zuko's jealousy is stronger than ever now, his kisses more demanding. I am only too happy to give him what he asks for, trying to escape into the desire my teenage body craves.

When I told him about Lu Ten's deal he was more accepting than I expected. The thought of having his baby is much more appealing than a full blooded little princeling, but I will bear it.


	3. Baby Talk

**AN: I promised you babies, so here's an extensive chapter about some kids I made up as I went. Next chapter will be...hm...growing up? I'll find a way to slip in some dadko eventually...**

* * *

When I was pregnant with the first royal child, everyone was elated. All of the women at court tried to give me advice on my pregnancy: what to eat, how to relax, which doctor was best. This was all fine and good, but none of them mentioned the absolute horrors my body was about to go through.

Morning sickness was something I had been alerted to, but that was about the extent of it. They didn't tell me about the mood swings, the incessant food cravings, _the back pains_. My feet swelled incredibly at the end and overall I felt like a disgusting mess. Pregnancy was certainly _not _the miracle everyone made it out to be.

But when I held that product of 9 months of torture in my arms, I realized it wasn't the pregnancy at all, but the end result that was worth it. Of course everyone was disappointed it was a girl, but she was only the first of what everyone assumed to be a hoard of children.

She was beautiful and I loved her more than I loved anyone-even Zuko. Which made him writhe with jealousy, desperate to see me after hours of excruciating labor. I only had eyes for her though, she who would be named Izumi a few days later.

At the fresh age of 18 I promised myself that I'd never go through that again, but there I was a year and a half later. Driven by the urge to bear a son and stop having babies, Lu Ten and I were both a little disappointed to add another girl to the family.

That didn't mean I loved her any less, don't mistake me. I love all my children just as their father does. I don't think Lu Ten predicted he would enjoy fatherhood, but he's the closest to a natural as you can get. He has some strange sense with them, whereas I continually have to ask what in the name of the Spirits my child is doing. I can only guess what kind of father Zuko would be.

Baby girl number three makes a middle child out of Hotaru four or so years later. Frustration finally seeps out of my husband like a sap, clinging to everything that it touches.

"Why do we keep having girls?" He fumes, pacing around the room while I feed our newest addition, Kiku. I don't answer him because I do not know.

"Agni is angry with this union between...two polar opposites. Fire and water." His limp was becoming debilitating and he stopped finally, leaning heavily on his cane. He stares at me, not quite a glare, and I wonder if he's silently blaming me.

"If your god was truly dissatisfied, do you think we would have three healthy children?" Many years of practice has made my reply mild, but I can feel a protective anger simmering under the surface.

This gives something for him to chew on and he sits quietly at the foot of the bed, running his thumb over the smooth wood of the cane. I've often seen him this way, so deep in thought that he escapes the world around him.

Little Kiku starts in with the beginnings of fussiness but I am an experienced mother at this point. Nevertheless he is drawn to his youngest child, reaching hesitantly for her when he sees I have everything under control. I offer her to him anyway, just a little pudge wrapped in red and gold with a shock of dark hair.

Lu Ten holds her and croons his baby talk to her, and I reflect that she is the only child to have skin almost as dark as mine. Both Izumi and Hotaru have lighter skin but it's not the waxy pale of the Fire Nation either. Both of the older girls have brown hair, though it looks like Kiku will have her father's black hair so far.

"It's been years since I made you a promise. Do you remember it?" He asks quietly as he rocks his sleepy daughter. How could I forget it? I've only been trying, hoping, waiting for the day that our coupling will result in a son.

"Yes, I remember," I say, but I can't look at him. The shame of it should not prick me, I didn't ask for this marriage. I only asked for true love and I ended up with politics.

"It's clear we won't come to the point that I desired. You...you're free of our deal." I know now that he isn't looking at me either. We're just two sad people in a lonely relationship. I want to comfort him, ease the worries from the man I've grown accustomed to seeing as my partner. We're not friends per se, but we are closer than we were young.

At the same time, I am excited. Zuko and I can finally begin the family we've always wanted, albeit a secret one. Maybe just one more child, because three is already a lot to pop out of yourself.

I take Kiku from her father and when he leaves, I'm quick (but extremely guilty) to pass her off to a wet nurse. My children are important, yes, but Zuko and I have been waiting for nearly five years for this contract to break. I must walk with all the dignity of the Fire Lady and cannot rush about, but that's fine. I know exactly where to find him.

"My Lord," I say, introducing myself into his presence with an inclination of my head. My station is above his so there is nothing needed in addition. I see his body react instantly, coming alive like a flower opening in the dawn light. He stops his bending practice in the courtyard and is to me in seconds.

"My Lady," he breathes, bowing low. He takes my hand and kisses it, not that it's required, but we can hardly help ourselves. "To what pleasure do I owe this visit?"

"I have some important matters of state to discuss with you." I hope our eyes don't give too much away, but it's practically common knowledge among the staff of what we are.

"By all means, let us retire to the palace." His curiosity cracks and burns inside of his chest, I can see it almost as if I was looking at a real fire.

The palace is so large, there are so many unused rooms we could use for our conference. The one we choose is dark, musty, and a bit smelly, but that's not the point.

"We can start a family," I blurt out, because at nearly twenty four he still makes me act like I'm sixteen. I can't hold in this excitement, and he crows with delight, hugging me tight and spinning me around.

"I can't believe it. I feel like my life can finally begin," he grins, pressing his forehead to mine before several hasty kisses. His smile is contagious and before long we're drunk on laughter that bubbled up from nowhere, kisses the only punctuation in the sound.

"Now, this doesn't mean we can abandon discretion." I wag my finger in front of him playfully.

"You mean we can't begin our little family right here?" He asks, his voice pitched low as he tugged at my sash suggestively.

"No!" I gasp, smacking away his hand with a grin.

It isn't long before I am with child again, hardly a year separating Kiku and my final child when he is born. Yes, my last and only child fathered by the man I am in love with is a bouncing little boy. Nobody knows that the child isn't Lu Ten's except for the three of us, but outwardly he celebrates the birth as if it were his own child.

In honor of his grandfather, who retired from his position as Fire Lord shortly before Hotaru was born, my little boy is named Iroh. My father-in-law actually teared up, telling us how honored he was that we named our only son after him. Sweet Iroh, the man who has been like a father to me in my later years. It is in his presence that I feel the most guilt for being so in love with the wrong man.

I am accustomed to taking tea with him at least once every two weeks just to get away from the stress of life. On one of these days, when little Iroh is toddling around at the age of two, the original Iroh surprises me.

"I am sorry for all of this," he begins, motioning vaguely with his hand. I'm not sure what he means until he continues. "You should not have had to marry for politics. No one should."

"How else would the war have ended?" I ask lightly. I am always reminded of how crucial this marriage was to end the war that could've gone on for a hundred years.

"Treaties could be made, trade would stabilize the trust between nations. It would have taken more time, yes, and more men would have likely died." Here he stared pensively into his tea cup and I wonder what he's thinking. "I was at an impasse. Should I sacrifice the happiness of two youngsters for the lives of men who already have families of their own?" Iroh shook his head slowly. "I am sorry it had to happen this way."

"Are you sorry to have four wonderful grandchildren?" I ask with a small smile. I know for a fact that he loves every one of those kids to death. Here he looks me straight in the eye, not accusatory, but honestly. Piercingly.

"Katara," he smiles, and that's all he says. He doesn't have to say anything else, because I know what he means with that secretive smile of his. I thought him blind to his nephew's interests, but it would seem that I am continually blind to others. Instead Iroh looks at the child named for him, his nephew's child.

I can only drink my tea in silence. What else is there to say? I wonder if Iroh has known from the start or if it is a more recent revelation. Surely Lu Ten wouldn't have told him, the shame it implies is too great for even him to admit.

"I am glad that you, at least, have found love here."

I cannot detect any trace of ill will from him and it relieves me. To have this man despise me would be to cut off my own hand. Little Iroh comes in from the garden, covered in head to toe in mud and turtleduck feathers and laughing gleefully.

"He definitely takes after his father!" The elder Iroh laughs. I've heard too many stories about Zuko mucking around with the turtleducks as a child. It only seems fitting that his offspring should follow suit. I excuse myself to tend to my filthy little child instead of calling the nursemaid.

"Mama, I want to-ew," Hotaru intercepts me in the hallway, trying to hold a wriggling Iroh. I gave up hope that I wouldn't need to change my clothes as soon as we headed out. Iroh is infinitely messier than any of the girls were, which presents a whole new set of challenges. Hotaru wrinkles her nose at the sight of us, pursing her lips to hold in a laughter.

"What is it, Hotaru?" I ask, plainly trying to not laugh at the situation myself. I think we both must look ridiculous, covered in the mud from the pond.

"I want to, uh, practice my firebending with uncle Zuko." Not that Zuko was actually their uncle, but it was a lot easier to say and understand. "And I wanted to know if you would watch." She eyed our dirtiness doubtfully.

"Why don't you warm up and we'll be there in a few minutes," I suggest, because even at seven my second oldest is a decent bender. I like to see how she progresses, though they tell me it is at an average rate. It makes no difference to me, I am proud of her anyway.

She nods and dashes away as I resume my journey to make my youngest presentable. I swirl the water around Iroh and usually it would be a game of catch the water, but this time I use my bending to expedite things. Hotaru is the only bender among the bunch so far, but they're all still young. I not so secretly hope that at least one of them will be a waterbender so I can pass down what I know, but it looks like Kiku or Iroh are my only hope.

I carry Iroh at my hip and all is fine until he sees "uncle" Zuko when we enter the training arena. As the children have grown older, their father has less and less time to spend with them. It's no easy task, running a nation, so I don't hold it against him. Besides, Zuko was more than happy to step in and act as a surrogate father. With no family of his own it was an easy role to step into.

I set Iroh down and he goes as fast as his short legs can carry him to his secret father just as they close a kata. Zuko is delighted to see him, laughing and spinning him in the air before blowing a raspberry on Iroh's stomach.

Hotaru giggles and waves at me. I wave back and let myself slip into the fantasy that both of these children are his, that all my children are his. That we have a happy, beautiful, _real_ marriage.

I sit on the first bench and content myself with meaningful eye contact with Zuko. It is much easier these days to contain ourselves in public, now that we spend so many private moments alone. He grins at me, so much like that same carefree boy I first knew. In his late twenties he is handsome, but he would be handsome even if we were in our eighties.

The demonstration doesn't begin until Iroh is safely in my lap, but there isn't much danger except being kicked. Most of the katas are simple with little fire, but Hotaru has all the seriousness and concentration that reminds me of Lu Ten. Iroh and I both clap when she finished, bowing to her sifu and promptly beaming from ear to ear.

I hear footsteps on the stone behind me, turning to see Izumi who must have jumped the wall from an adjacent garden. The eldest of my offspring, she had a bossyness that Zuko claims she gets from me. She greets Zuko with a student-teacher bow, not that she has shown any bending ability yet, but because he teaches her in hand to hand combat. You never know when something like that could come in handy.

"Hey, where's Kiku?" Hotaru asks her older sister. It's not until I hear Izumi say that she thought Kiku was with Hotaru, and Hotaru thinking likewise, that I start to panic. It can't be that bad, right? How far could a three year get? Both girls have the decency to look guilty at least.

"We'll find her," Zuko assures them while Izumi adjusts her glasses distractedly.

We look like a motley crew, scouring the palace and calling Kiku's name. Everyone we pass joins the search until we meet the last person I expect to see. Holding my missing daughter at arm's length is Azula, of all people.

"I assume this brat is yours?" The woman grimaces as Kiku laughs at her, simultaneously conjuring a spit bubble. Not the most attractive thing, I know, but she's a baby for goodness sake.

"Thank you," I say for the first (and probably last) time in my life to her. I pass Iroh off to Zuko and collect Kiku into my arms. "Where did you find her?"

"Around." It's such a vague answer that I'm immediately suspicious. "Don't look at me like that. She was about to fall into a pond so I stopped her." Azula rolled her eyes. No big deal that she had saved my child from _potentially drowning_.

But, she had still saved her. Maybe Azula had something akin to humanity in her after all.


End file.
