Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or the characters.

Katara watched Zuko. She's been keeping an eye on him lately. He had seemed so happy, so at peace, when the war ended, but now his mood seemed to have fallen. He was not the angry, temperamental prince she'd first met, nor the angst-ridden, self-loathing teen that followed. Not many people noticed anything wrong this time because his mood was quiet.

But Katara saw it. She saw the way his eyes lingered on the destruction the Fire Nation wrought. She saw the tiny spark of envy as he watched an earth bender rebuild or a water bender heal. Worst of all was the longing she saw in his eyes and movements when he saw Aang meditating peacefully, and struggled to do the same.

Now, as the Antarctic sun began to sink behind the ice caps and glaciers of the South Pole, Zuko stood on the bow of the ship, staring out across the landscape- barren except for the small cluster of igloos. A storm was coming, and the wind whipped the first flakes of snow into a frenzy. Katara shivered as she quietly walked up to him, stopping at his side, not saying anything. She waited to see if he would share his thoughts, though not really expecting him to.

When the silence began to stretch on too long, she broke it.

"You know," she spoke softly, "the Northern water benders are here to help the Southern Tribe. You didn't need to come all this way to help rebuild."

Finally he spoke, no louder than she. "I know. But I personally attacked your people here. I feel it is only right that I should be here in person to make reparations to your tribe."

Katara didn't bother correcting him. She no longer felt of this place as being her tribe; no longer thought of theses as her people. Sure, she'd always be Water Tribe- and proud of it- but that was not where she belonged anymore. She hadn't belonged there since she decided to follow Aang to the North Pole.

"If its forgiveness you're looking for, you've already done more penance than you deserve."

"How can I make up for what I am? There's no amount of penance in the world that can redeem me for being a fire bender."

"Zuko-" Katara began, but didn't know how to finish. What does one say to that?

"I wish I had been born an air or water bender. Even a non-bender."

Katara was shocked. "But your bending is a part of who you are." To her surprise, he flinched as if she had slapped him.

Zuko's voice was dark when he said "I wish it wasn't. Fire is such a violent element. I'd rather have the peace of air or water."

"What do you mean?"

Zuko looked at her for the first time. He held out his hands, palms-up as if to offer her something, or as if in surrender. The fire bender called up the flames into his palms and let them blaze fiercely for a moment before curling his fists and dropping them to his sides. Katara blinked away the after-image of the sudden, but brief, brightness.

"Fire is all passion- anger, hatred, the powerful emotions. Power and destruction. Just look at my family. But air and water, they are peace, calm, and healing. I see Aang, perfectly at peace with himself and his element, always calm in the face of a challenge. I see you, healing everyone who needs your help. And I can't help but wish I could be like that, too."

"Zuko, have you forgotten everything that happened during the war? Remember Aang's nervous break-downs? Remember the pain I brought to people when I learned to blood bend? Remember the way we fought? Even you felt the power of our defensive force."

But Zuko didn't look convinced. "That was during the war. War changes everyone. And Aang only ever lost his cool when faced with the need to do something violent."

Katara sighed, then shuddered as a particularly icy blast of air hit them. This gave her an idea.

"Zuko, look around you. The deck is deserted. What do you think your sailors have sought refuge from?"

"The storm," he said matter-of-factly, not sure why she asked.

"And where do they go to find shelter?"

"The dining hall?"

"Where they gather around the fire, taking comfort from its heat and light."

"They're Fire Nation, of course they do. That doesn't change the fact that-"

"Would you call this weather calm?"

"No, but-"

"What makes this weather? What is the storm made of?"

"Wind and snow. What-"

"Exactly. Wind and snow. Gales and ice. Tornadoes and floods. Air and water. Each of those just as destructive as a blaze of fire or a bolt of lightning.

"What about the sun? Your source of power?" she continued, "It is also the world's source of light and warmth. Without it, nothing would grow, nothing would live."

Zuko thought about this, but still hesitated to admit she was right.

Katara sighed in frustration now. "In the Southern Water Tribe, people live among the water and snow, but it is fire that keeps us alive. During the cold nights, especially the endless night of winter, everyone lights fires in their homes. They gather around the fire pits for meals, meetings, and just to be together. Look." She gestured to the village, where each igloo was now lit from within, a narrow pillar of smoke rising from some of them. Parka-clad people scurried between them, eager to be out of the storm and seated by the hearth with friends, family, and a steaming bowl of sea prunes.

"Anyone who has ever lived in the tundra knows that fire is life. Without it, we would die- physically, spiritually, emotionally, culturally."

She fell silent after that, letting Zuko come to terms with this revelation. After what seemed like an hour, she turned to go back inside, eager to join everyone around their own fire.

"Katara," Zuko grasped her wrist. Then, without warning, he pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping his arms securely around her. The embrace said everything he didn't- 'Thank you.' 'I'm sorry.' 'You're right.' 'Thank you.' 'Thank you.'

He was warm, comfortably warm, and Katara relaxed against him, enjoying the feeling of being enclosed in the gentle heat of a fire bender. Of him.

Without knowing why, Katara tilted her head up and kissed him, pressing her lips softly against his. She began to pull back, but Zuko's hand moved to the back of her head, holding her against him as he deepened the kiss.

'Perhaps passion is not such a bad thing,' Zuko thought, and then lost the all coherent thinking as Katara parted her lips for him.