A/N: This story was inspired by the fanart 'Grow Old Together' by aaynra on deviantArt, and it is the first fanfic I've written in a fandom that I don't actually like. I adore ATLA, but I'm having serious issues with Korra. I can't forgive the creators for making Aang appear as a bad father. I mean, can you seriously imagine him who cared for even his enemies to not care for two of his own children? Can you imagine him never even mentioning Kya and Bumi to the Air Acolytes? Can you imagine him never taking them to the Southern Air Temple to show them where their old dad grew up? Well, I can't. Aang as he is referred to in Korra feels horribly OOC. I wanted to do something about that while trying to stay true to canon. You decide whether my attempt is a decent one or not.

Please note that I wrote this fic shortly before I saw the Korra season 3 trailer, but I no longer wanted to change anything after that, so once season 3 airs, this will become completely AU.

Much thanks to my friend Michael for the beta.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Legend of Korra (not that I would want to… I'd rather own ATLA if I could).

Not a Failure

Since her husband's death twenty years earlier Katara had barely ever left the South Pole, but the first tattooing ceremony to happen in almost forty years had lured her from her icy home to Republic City.

Even from the peace of Air Temple Island she could hear the never-ceasing noise of city life across the bay, though the blaring of thousands of car horns had softened into a murmur by the wide stretches of water between the island and the city docks.

Katara closed her eyes, trying to shut out all the noise except for the wind whistling through the trees of her one-time home. Bittersweet memories surfaced from her married life, swirling before her closed eyelids; a maelstrom of expressions, touches and voices, and mostly, emotions. This was the place where all her children had been born, where they had taken their first steps, uttered their first words, and in most cases, without their father being present. She knew it hadn't been Aang's fault he couldn't be around, but it had still hurt her not to be able to share with him all those precious first moments.

Long before she accepted his proposal she had been aware what being the Avatar's wife would entail, and throughout her entire married life she had kept trying to convince herself that she had been well prepared for it. But the truth was that she hadn't. Nothing could have prepared her for the loneliness she had felt at night when he was away on some oh-so-important Avatar mission, nor for the tears on her children's faces when their daddy had missed their school performances.

Having the Avatar as a father had been more of a curse than a blessing, and Katara knew that Aang had been aware of that too. She knew he had tried all he could to devote as much time to his family as possible, but the world had always had to come first. A few years into their marriage Katara had realised she was insanely jealous of the world. She had often dreamed she had the power to change things and make her Aang just that: Aang. Not the Avatar. In her dreams she had a husband always by her side and Bumi, Kya and Tenzin had a father who was always available. In her dreams all three of her children were airbenders and not only the youngest, enjoying equal amounts of attention from Aang.

But the world wasn't so fair, and Tenzin had grown up getting his father's almost undivided attention while Bumi and Kya had suffered in silence. At least, Kya had. Bumi, in order to make himself noticed, had got into all kinds of trouble. The Avatar had had to visit Bumi's headmaster more often than any other father, and yet Bumi had never managed to achieve his aim. But it hadn't been Bumi's fault, nor had it been Aang's. It was the fault of the world.

Sometimes Katara had felt inclined to blame their misery on Aang, but sooner or later she had always realised she had no right to. Because she knew what was at stake. She knew why Aang had spent all his free time with their youngest. A whole nation's future was at stake. The Avatar Cycle was at stake. If Tenzin didn't learn the ways of the Air Nomads properly, if he didn't become an airbending master himself, the world as it was known would come to an end and the Avatar Cycle would be broken. That and only that had justified it for Katara.

She knew Aang had been torn by it too. She knew he had wanted to spend more time with her and all of their children, but despite his almost divine powers he was only human. His strength as the Avatar was nearly boundless, but his strength as Aang was very much limited. Even so he had kept stretching his limits in trying to be a responsible Avatar and a proper family man. Failure was inevitable. He had done all he could to bring balance to the world, even if it meant keeping his own family unbalanced. There were always sacrifices to be made for peace, and Katara, with a heavy heart, accepted that in order to secure the happiness of millions, Aang had decided to sacrifice his own and that of his family. She couldn't find it in her heart to be mad at him for that. She understood him and loved him too much to hold a grudge. She loved him still. After all these years. And missed him terribly.

The sound of pattering feet shook her from her reveries and she opened her eyes to be greeted by all four of her grandchildren, the younger three running towards her with squeals of delight while the eldest took slow and dignified steps. After Katara bent to close Meelo and Ikki in her arms, she picked up little Rohan and greeted Jinora with a warm smile. Jinora returned the smile, though it was clear her mouth twitched not only with happiness but with pain as well. This must have been the reason she had not run into her Gran-Gran's arms like the others did: her tattoos were still too fresh, her wounds hadn't healed completely. But her eyes were gleaming with joy.

"It's so good to see you all again," Katara sighed. "And I'm so proud of you, Jinora, dear. The first female airbender to earn her tattoos in almost two centuries!"

"Yeah, and the best thing about it is that I earned them at age twelve just like Grandpa Aang did! I only hope my hair grows back soon," she ran her hand across her clean-shaven scalp. "I'm definitely not keeping half my head bald like the nuns of old times did! I'm a modern girl, so I'll only let the tip of my arrow peak out from under my bangs, and that's it. But I just love the arrows on my hands!" she flexed her fists for effect, then winced. "Ouch. They still kinda hurt."

"I'll help you with a healing session as soon as we find some alone time, how about that?" Katara offered.

"Sounds great, Gran-Gran. And you could help me with something else as well," she leaned closer so that Ikki and Meelo wouldn't hear. "Just three days after my tattooing I got my very first period. You can imagine, pain inside and out! Horrible!"

Katara couldn't help but chuckle. "I'll see what I can do for you, big girl."

"Woman, Gran-Gran. I'm a woman now," Jinora drew herself up.

"I wanna be a woman too!" Ikki chimed in. "How can I do that?"

"First earn your tattoos, then the spirits might deem you mature enough to become a woman," Jinora said with a hint of condescension.

"But I want it now!" Ikki stamped her foot.

"Patience, honey. Don't want to grow up too quick," said Pema as she entered the courtyard with Tenzin, Bumi and Kya in tow.

"But what if I do?" Ikki said crossly.

"I do too!" Meelo seconded her.

Rohan silently drooled on Katara's shirt and failed to add that he wanted to grow up as well.

Pema took the toddler from her mother-in-law's arms and Katara felt relief wash over her. She had never had a problem carrying small children, but recently she had felt her age catching up with her. Not that she would complain about it to anyone. Why ruin a perfect day such as this?

"Let us have dinner, shall we?" Pema suggested, and just as everyone expressed their heartfelt agreement, an excited Air Acolyte arrived.

"Master Tenzin, we have visitors."

"Visitors?" Tenzin's thick eyebrows ran high, a look of discontent spreading on his face. "Why must politics always interfere? Even with family celebrations?" he groaned.

Katara could only sympathise. She had had her fair share of disrupted family celebrations when the Avatar was called away for political or other reasons. Apparently things hadn't changed much in two decades. The world had undergone a technological development faster and more amazing than anyone had ever seen before, yet the Avatar – or his or her family members – would never be left in peace.

She cast a sideways glance at Jinora and saw the disappointment on her face as well. This day was supposed to be about her accomplishments, her gaining the title Airbending Master.

"I believe this is not about politics," the Air Acolyte said. "The visitors haven't come to meet you, master, but your brother."

"Me?" Bumi's eyes widened. "Hah! You see, little brother, some people find me worth bothering at a family celebration!"

Tenzin rolled his eyes and turned to the Air Acolyte. "Please, escort them here."

The few minutes until the unexpected guests arrived were spent with Meelo complaining about being hungry, Ikki complaining about her lack of tattoos and Bumi puffing out his chest, looking self-important. Katara hid a smile. Her eldest would never grow up.

Soon the Air Acolyte returned with four – or rather four and a half – people in tow: a man of about thirty-five, his heavily pregnant wife and their twin sons. Upon spotting the boys, Katara blinked a few times, thinking that her old eyes were deceiving her. She had always thought that Tenzin and Meelo resembled Aang quite a bit, but those two little boys with their messy black hair were the spitting image of her late husband in his days of going incognito in the Fire Nation. Only these boys were much younger, five or six-year-olds.

She shook her head to clear it, blaming the heat and her age for seeing things that weren't there, but as her gaze returned to the newcomers, she still saw a pair of tiny Aangs strolling behind their parents. She swallowed hard and focused on the couple: the woman was clearly of Water Tribe descent with her coffee-coloured complexion and blue eyes, and the man too had a Water Tribe air about him, although his jaw wasn't as square and his features weren't as strong as those of a Water Tribe warrior, nor was his skin as dark. There was something oddly familiar about him too that Katara couldn't quite put a finger on.

"Good day to you all. We are looking for Commander Bumi," the man said, bowing in the general direction of their hosts.

"No longer commander, just plain Bumi, but I can't help still being famous for my fighting prowess," replied Bumi and stepped forward. "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"I am Joran of the Northern Water Tribe," the man said, "this is my wife Aylah, and these are my sons, Quinn and Derik."

"Pleased to meet you," Bumi gave them a jovial smile. "And this is my family. You've surely heard of most of them, pretty famous bunch, some even more famous than I am. Those are my two beautiful waterbenders, my mother, Master Katara and my sister Kya. That is my charming sister-in-law, Pema, and those are my precocious nieces and nephews, Jinora, Ikki, Meelo and Rohan. Oh, and that's Master Airhead… I mean, Master Tenzin. My brother."

The man and his wife bowed again. "It is an honour to meet you all. Master Katara's bravery and skills are legendary."

"You are too kind to an old woman," Katara replied with a wave of her hand. "But I take you're here to see my oldest son, Bumi?"

"Indeed," Joran nodded, "but what I have to say concerns you all, I believe. Unless, of course, Mr. Bumi insists on a private talk first."

"Why would I?" Bumi shrugged. "I doubt if you could say anything to embarrass me."

"Yeah, I doubt if he could," Kya muttered under her breath only to earn a gentle nudge in the ribs from her mother.

"I must admit," Joran said, "that I wouldn't have taken my wife on such a taxing journey to find you if it were not of utmost importance to us all… and of course had my Aylah not insisted. But no more beating around the bush." He cleared his throat before he continued, "I wonder, Mr. Bumi, if you remember a Water Tribe woman by the name of Elina?"

"Elina, Elina…" Bumi scratched his beard thoughtfully, "the name's familiar…" At the angry flash of Joran's eyes, he added with a laugh, "Of course I remember her, though it was quite a few years ago. She was a pretty little thing, freshly widowed, badly in need of some consolation…"

Katara's heart started to race. She was quite sure she knew where this was going, and the newcomer didn't disappoint.

"Apparently," Joran said, his voice dripping with resentment, "you were very good at consoling her, Mr. Bumi… as she got pregnant. With me."

"Oh," was all Bumi could comment.

"Oh," said Tenzin and Pema.

"Now that should embarrass him," remarked Kya. "But no… I don't think it will."

"Why? What's happening?" Meelo piped up.

"Quiet," Jinora hushed him.

"But why?" Meelo pressed.

"Because drama's enfolding," his sister whispered, "and I don't wanna miss a word!"

"Children, shush!" their mother hissed at them, and finally silence fell upon the courtyard.

"So…" Bumi cleared his throat, "I have a son… and two grandkids? And a third on the way? Wow. That's something. I only wonder… why haven't you come any sooner to tell me?"

"I haven't known you were my father for long either," Joran replied. "My mother told me on her death bed two years ago. Ever since I've been contemplating whether to come and find you, and I was inclined not to. But the circumstances have recently changed."

"What exactly has changed in your circumstances that has finally driven you to your old dad?" Bumi arched a bushy eyebrow at his son. He seemed amused by the situation, but Katara could see his confusion as well. His confusion, and buried deep, his hurt. After all, he had been denied fatherhood for over thirty years. True, as a teen he had sworn not to start a family, because, as he had put it, 'that way I can't make the same mistakes Dad did', but sometimes Katara wondered if Bumi never felt a longing for a son of his own. A son to teach in the ways of a warrior. She knew her own brother definitely had: Sokka had been disappointed that Suki never managed to present him with an heir. And try as he might to deny it, Bumi was very much like Sokka. He must have felt the need, the longing, too.

And now there was this man standing before him, his grown-up son, and Katara finally understood where Joran's pale skin tone and delicate features came from: those reflected his Air Nomad heritage.

"You ask what has driven me here?" Joran took a deep breath and looked Bumi in the eye. "A few weeks ago my twin sons turned out to be airbenders."

"Oh," Bumi breathed.

"What exactly does that mean?" muttered Meelo.

"It means Dad will have his hands full with new pupils," Jinora replied in a hushed tone, but still loud enough for everyone to hear.

"And it means that Dad would… perhaps… finally be proud of me," Bumi muttered and tore his eyes from Joran. Katara followed his gaze and saw in the distance the massive statue of Aang silhouetted against the towering buildings of Republic City. She felt her heart clench at the sight of her beloved in his prime and she felt it clench even more as her gaze returned to Bumi. She hadn't seen her son cry since he was twelve and in a rage, yelling at his parents about the injustice of the world. The injustice of himself not being a bender of any kind, the injustice of Kya bending the 'wrong' element, and the injustice of Tenzin receiving all that he and his sister never did.

"Dinner's getting cold," Pema spoke up, breaking the awkward silence. "Perhaps we could have a more peaceful conversation on a full stomach?" she proposed, sensing the desperate need for something, anything, to happen.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea," Tenzin agreed and beckoned to his children to follow him.

"Please, come with us," Pema smiled at Aylah and the twins. Aylah sent her husband a cursory, gentle glance, then let Pema guide her and her sons inside.

Katara contemplated the possibility of leaving Bumi and Joran alone, but she was quick to realise this wouldn't be a touching father-son reunion. Joran was still a complete stranger, and his presence wasn't what Bumi needed now. With a kind but meaningful glance she ushered her newfound grandson after the others.

"You know," she said once they were left alone, laying a hand on Bumi's shoulder, "I am sure your father is proud of you. I'm sure he always was."

"I wish he had shown it more often, Mum," Bumi grunted and blinked back any tears that still threatened to fall. "But I know he loved me. He loved us all. I still like to blame him from time to time, but if I look at it... if I really look at it... I realise he couldn't have done it any other way. There was just one of him, and too many people in the world to take care of."

It was Katara's turn to dissolve in tears. "I am so glad to hear you say that. You have no idea..."

"I guess I do, Mum," Bumi replied and gathered her into his arms. As she sobbed into his chest, she was sure it wasn't only her own body's shaking she felt but his too. He was not shedding any more tears, but was crying nevertheless.

Katara knew that after this day, after this moment of final forgiveness, Bumi would be a different man. And all that because he had learned he wasn't a failure, after all. Not that either she or Aang ever considered him a failure or ever treated him as one, but Bumi had still carried a burden his whole life. The burden of not living up to expectations: his own, that of his parents and that of all five nations. But this day had changed everything. Bumi, the nonbender had eventually contributed two airbenders to the world.

Katara was immensely grateful to the spirits for this day, and not because she had got to learn she had another grandchild and two great-grandchildren, not even because the twins turned out to be airbenders, but because Bumi had reached a closure at last. He could finally make peace with his father's memory. That meant more than anything.

o

"It's perfectly okay now," Jinora sighed happily later that night. "There's nothing better than a body that doesn't ache all over. Thank you, Gran-Gran."

"I'm glad I could help," Katara dropped her hands in exhaustion and the water she had used for healing trickled to the floor. Thankfully her granddaughter's eyes were closed, so her weakness went unnoticed. By the time Jinora woke up the following morning the stone tiles would have dried. "It's time for me to go to sleep as well. Good night, my little princess."

"Good night, Gran-Gran," Jinora smiled into her pillow as the old woman's lips brushed her forehead.

Just as Katara left the girl's bedside, the door flew open and Kya stormed in. "Mum, Aylah's gone into labour! One whole month early! She says she'd been experiencing pains throughout dinner, even a bit during their journey here, but she thought they were just false contractions. Well, they were not, and she's getting really close! There's no time to transport her to a hospital, not even on Oogi's back!"

"Oh, are we getting a new cousin?" Jinora sat up, wide awake all of a sudden.

"It seems so, dear. Kya, show the way," Katara suppressed a sigh. Apparently she wasn't getting any rest tonight. She knew she could as well leave the task of midwife to Kya who was an able healer herself, but Kya hadn't delivered nearly as many infants as she had, and if it was a premature baby there were bound to be complications.

"May I come?" Jinora asked hopefully. "I've never helped with a delivery yet, and I know you delivered babies at my age, Gran-Gran! I'd like to try too!"

"I thought you were sleepy," Katara said with a playful shake of her head. "All right. You may come."

"Wee!" Jinora airbended herself on an air scooter and whooshed out of the room.

"A real ball of energy, isn't she?" Katara muttered to Kya. "Like her grandfather was at her age. Well, let's go, daughter. We have a baby to deliver."

o

"I sense a waterbender in her," Katara said an hour later as she laid the tiny girl in Aylah's arms.

"A waterbender?" the young mother looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. "There hasn't been a waterbender in my family for a hundred years. I'm so glad. Do you mind if I name her after you?"

"Not at all," Katara smiled and gently caressed her great-granddaughter's soft dark hair. "On the contrary. I'm flattered. If your husband agrees on the name, of course."

"Oh, he will, I have no doubt of that," Aylah replied. "Thank you for your help, Katara."

o

It was shortly before dawn, when the sky was at its darkest, that Katara finally got to bed. She had never felt more exhausted. She had had tiring moments recently, many of them, but the past couple of days, especially the last one, had completely drained her energies.

Who am I fooling? she thought as she laid her head on the pillow, I'm eighty-seven years old. A grandmother of five and a great-grandmother of three. She closed her eyes, and before sleep took over, the last conscious thought that came to her mind was of Aunt Wu of whom she hadn't thought for decades. The fortuneteller seventy years ago had told her something about great-grandchildren. Three of them...

"You were right, you know."

Katara didn't see at first who was talking to her, but the voice was soothing, caressing, and pleasantly familiar.

She turned around and found herself face to face with Aang. He was gently smiling at her, not the broken, sickly old man she had last seen, but a man in his late thirties. This must have been the Aang Korra had described to her when talking about meeting her past Avatar lives.

"I was right... about what?" Katara asked.

"About Bumi and me. I was always proud of him, no matter what he did. And let's admit, he did a lot. He was the worst-behaved child in school, reckless, a little scoundrel, but to me, he was never a failure. You know that I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed about his lack of bending, but you also know I loved him all the same and I was proud of his achievements. I still am. I know that all he did to annoy us was to gain attention. I know that the façade he wears, the mask of a person who doesn't care about his reputation is just that. A mask. To hide how much he always thought he was a failure. But he never was. I'm as proud of him as a father can be... Perhaps," he added with a mischievous smile, "I would only be more proud if he had had Joran in wedlock."

"It's not like he did anything we didn't do, Aang," Katara point out. "I remember Sokka catching us going at it half a dozen times before we said the I do's..."

"Yeah," Aang's cheeks coloured a bit, "we weren't careful enough to not get caught, but we were at least careful to not have children out of wedlock."

"It was easy for us, Sweetie," she laughed. "There's no contraceptive like waterbending."

"True," Aang grinned and came closer, holding out his right hand to her.

Katara instinctively took his hand and only then realised that her own hand resting in his wasn't old and wrinkly. Her skin was that of a young woman, soft and healthy. She realised her voice sounded much younger too.

"Come with me."

"Where?" she asked, and her voice once again sounded younger, as though she were gradually going backwards in time, and probably not only her voice, but her whole being. Her gaze was still upon their intertwined hands and they looked much smaller than earlier; his was a bit smaller than hers, even. As she looked up from their hands, her glance fell upon a pair of huge silver eyes shining out of a twelve-year-old boy's face.

"Where?" he asked, flashing her with a grin. "Penguin-sledding, of course."

o

As baby Katara's cries echoed across the halls of the air temple, the first rays of the sun hit the roofs, coating them in gold, finding their way into old Katara's room. She lay there, a contented smile frozen on her face for all eternity. She had passed away peacefully, in her sleep.

FIN

A/N: in case you'd like to read happier Avatar stories by me, then go, visit my account, there are a few you might like. :)

Please, leave a review!