la noche
maybe in time, you'll want to be mine

Aang sits at the bar, glaring into his ice water as though all of the answers will flow up from it and spell themselves out in front of him. Why did Katara blow off the engagement party - and to get drunk with June, no less? What did he do wrong? What wasn't she telling him? He had thought she told him everything (he certainly told her everything) and he had been under the impression that she was happy to marry him; she had even cried when he'd proposed.

So what had bothered her so much last night that she had gotten so drunk she couldn't even make it back to the Jasmine Dragon, and even in the morning had to be dragged in by Zuko?

"Hello, Avatar," a warm, female voice says, and he glances over to see Lady Ursa, gliding into a seat beside him. "You seem troubled."

He shoots her a you're kidding look, and then sighs, "Yeah. It's about Katara."

"Oh?" Ursa prompts, and he almost wants to cry. There's no way she doesn't know - it was her son who'd dragged his fiancee back after she'd been missing for almost twelve hours, after all - but she's pretending not to, for whatever reason.

"You already know."

"I do," she says simply, and then leans on the bar, "but I think it would help you to talk about it."

He's shaking when he turns back to his water, and - partly to clear his head, partly to stall for time - he begins making the ice dance around the glass. Ursa waits patiently for him to respond, and he finally has to face the fact that she won't leave until he does. "I thought she was happy," he whispers. "Now I don't know."

"Because she chose to drink herself into oblivion last night?"

"Yeah," he replies, and slumps against the stool. "I mean, I did everything for her, you know? I... She said she was happy! I don't understand. Why would she go off and get drunk with a bounty hunter rather than stay at her own engagement party? What did I do?"

"Did she seem happy?" Ursa asks evenly, watching Aang's ice continue in their frenetic dance. As his frustration grows, the tempo speeds up, until the ice are clattering against each other, more like a battle than a dance. "Aang?" They suddenly clatter to the bar.

"She said she was happy," he mutters.

"That doesn't always mean as much as it should."

"Why wouldn't she be happy?" he cries, agitated and unhappy. "I gave her everything she ever asked for. I - I - I saved the world for her! Everything I've done in the past four years has been for her!"

"And why does that mean she should be happy with you?"

The question takes him so utterly off-guard that he almost falls off the stool. He had never asked that question before. Katara had always said she was grateful for what he'd done, so why should he? "I don't... Why shouldn't she?" he counters lamely.

"Ah," Ursa says simply, "I think I see the problem."

"What?" Aang asks. "You think she's not in love with me? Then why did she agree to marry me?"

"Did you ever give her the choice?"

"Of course I did!" he shouts, offended, even as a little voice in the back of his head - the one that always sounds a bit like Toph - whispers but did you really? And then he thinks about it: he never asked her out on a date, he never asked her if she loved him, or if she wanted to be with him. He, like everyone else, had just sort of assumed that it was a given - after all, she kissed him after Zuko's coronation, and wasn't that a good enough answer? But maybe, he thinks now, maybe it wasn't. "She knows how much I love her," he whispers, as though it's a response.

"Which doesn't obligate her to love you, I'm afraid." At the look of despair on Aang's face, she continues. "Let me elaborate. Ozai, Agni rest his soul, loved me from the moment he saw me. He once promised that he would give me the Earth King's head on a golden plate, if it was what I wished for. But I," she says, and sighs, "I couldn't love him. Even before..." she begins, but trails off, and restarts in another vein. "You see the problem?"

"You're comparing me to Ozai?" Aang says, both horrified and more than a little angry.

"No," she replies firmly. "But I am comparing your situation to his. It isn't Katara's fault if she doesn't love you, no matter what you may have given her. Please," she adds, her voice taking on a strangely dangerous tone, "don't blame her as he did me."

He suddenly wishes that the ground would open up and swallow him whole - which, strictly speaking, is totally possible, but he feels like it would be in bad taste to drop into a tunnel in the middle of a bar while sitting next to Lady Ursa. He just doesn't want to have this conversation. "I..." he begins, "I can't just let her go..."

"Then you don't love her," Ursa replies, her tone distant. Aang jerks his head up and glares.

"How dare you say that," he hisses, angrier than he can remember being any time recently. "Of course I love her."

"No," she answers calmly, "you don't. If you are unable to let her go, then you don't understand what love is." He stares at her blankly until she takes a deep breath and goes on. "Aang... Let me explain. My mother once told me that the highest spirits - Agni, Tui, La, others of the sort - envy humanity. Do you know why?"

"No."

"Because we die," she tells him. He's about to voice his confusion when she holds up a hand. "Everything is beautiful to the damned - that's what she used to say. We appreciate life because we know we will lose it. Do you understand?"

"The spirits envy us because we can appreciate life, but they can't," he confirms, and then scowls. "But what does this have to do with me and Katara?"

"Patience," she murmurs. "The spirits, however, will live for eternity. Everything they see becomes a blur, the lives they encounter pass them in the blink of an eye - they can't see the majesty of a sunset or the beauty of the moon upon the ocean because they have seen millions of sunsets and they watch the moon every night. They are immune to the mortal's pain, and by extension, the mortal's pleasure."

"I still don't - "

"Love," she says sharply, interrupting him, and he suddenly feels like a small child being reprimanded, "is similar. One may only appreciate love if they can lose it. That's what... That's what love is, Avatar," she adds, tacking on the title to impress upon him the weight of this conversation. "It's knowing that another person has the power to break you - and the trust that that person won't. But if you never allow them the freedom to hurt you, you can never truly understand the joy of love."

She falls silent, and for a long moment, he doesn't do anything more than stare into his water. "So you're saying," he starts, and finds that his voice is hoarse with un-shed tears, "that I've never given Katara the chance to leave me? That because I can't let her go, I'm... I can't be in a relationship with her?"

"There's more to it than that," she replies gravely. "The obsessive love that drives you to hold onto her will smother her in time. I believe that is why she ran from the party last night."

"I was smothering her?" he asks, but it's not really a question. "What do I do? I love her - I love her so much it hurts. I can't just - "

"Yes, Aang," Ursa says, in the most comforting voice he's ever heard anyone use, "you can. And if you love her as you say, then you must. Which would you rather have: Katara, not with you, but happy and maintaining a friendship with you, or Katara, in your bed but loathing you and cursing your name under her breath?" The example is clearly from personal experience. In a much lower voice, she continues, "Which would you rather have, Aang? Her heart or her body?"

"Her heart," he whispers, voice small and meek. "I would - The last thing I want is for her to be unhappy."

"Then let her go. Maybe in time, she will find her way back to you."

"But it hurts," he whimpers, and Ursa reaches over and pulls him into a hug. He's startled - he doesn't remember ever being hugged like this before, by a mother. The tears start to well up in his eyes, and he burrows himself closer into her shoulder, memorizing this feeling, this moment. It's no wonder that losing Ursa wounded Zuko so deeply; he thinks that if he had been graced with her as his mother only to have her stolen away, he would have gone a bit mad, too. She smells like cinnamon and comfort and kindness, and he doesn't ever want to move.

"I know, baobei," she murmurs, "I know. I've been there, I know." She kisses the top of his head and pulls away slightly, and then looks him in the eyes. "And I know you are strong enough."

He swallows hard. "Thank you," he whispers.

If he thought that the conversation with Ursa had been unappealing, the looming prospect of talking to Katara is downright terrifying. He thinks that he would give just about anything to erase the past day from memory, and go back to a world where he knew that Katara loved him, and where he didn't have difficult conversations with Zuko's mother about spirits and love and choice.

She's sitting at the boudoir in her little rented room when he comes in - half a second before he realizes that he should have knocked and it's things like this that Ursa was talking about, the little choices like whether or not to let him into her room, that he wasn't giving her. But it's too late to go back and re-do, so he simply takes a seat on the bed and watches her for a moment. She knows he's there, but focuses hard on brushing out her hair instead of speaking, which cements to him the reality of the situation.

It's over. It's really over. Sure, at the moment, she's still wearing his engagement necklace, but the rift between them that he had never noticed - possibly, he thinks, because she was striving so hard to bridge it - is glaring at him. All of the mistakes he's made, all of the ways he's taken her for granted, rise up behind his eyes.

He never meant this. He begs to all the spirits he's ever met, to all the past Avatars, to Yue and to Agni and to dead Monk Gyatso, that she might understand that.

"Katara," he says quietly, and she closes her eyes.

"I know," she replies, taking him off-guard. "It was a stupid mistake, all right? I - I'm sorry."

She's apologizing, he realizes, and it hits him like a physical blow. "You - It's okay."

"No, it isn't. I shouldn't have left the party. I just... I had to get out, and then June was there and she had alcohol, and I don't know, it... I'm sorry, Aang." She finally turns to him, eyes dry and face pale, still haggard from her first experience getting really and truly drunk. "I know you're disappointed in me - "

He's had enough. "That's not what I came in here about. I - You thought I was coming in here to tell you off?" She looks away, which tells him all he needs to know. "No, Katara, I... I'm the one who should be apologizing."

"What?" she asks, startled, and something within him cracks.

"You... We should have had this conversation years ago. Our relationship... I never asked you... Katara," he says, burying his face in his hands, and trying desperately to wish all of this away. Finally, he swallows hard. "Do you really want to marry me, or are you just scared of breaking my heart?"

There's a long, pregnant silence.

"I..." she chokes, and when he looks up again, she's not facing him, instead organizing her "girly accessories" (as Toph calls them) with a fervor that's startling. Her hair has fallen between them like a curtain, and his question is answered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispers. "I - I can take it," he continues, though he thinks privately that he can't, "I'm a big boy, Katara. You shouldn't have said yes if you didn't mean it. Do you think I want that?"

"I thought..." she replies finally, as though it's painful, "I thought love would come. I really, really did." She turns to him, and her eyes are bright with tears. She removes the orange necklace he gave her only days ago and hands it back to him. He takes it mechanically. "I'm so sorry, Aang."

"You shouldn't apologize," he says, even though it hurts like fire, like his heart has been torn out of his chest and laid at his feet, even though he wants so badly to be able to blame her for all of this because that would make this so much easier. "It was my fault, too. I should have noticed that you weren't happy. I should have paid more attention. I shouldn't have - I shouldn't have just assumed that you were in love with me." We should have had this conversation years ago. It might have hurt less, then.

On the other hand, maybe not.

Emptiness follows his words. In a way, it's cathartic: he's no longer worried about why she's upset, or worried about giving her all of the things she might wish for. And the worst part is over, the truth hangs thick in the air between them. It will hit him, he supposes, later, when he's alone and has time to think about all the things he's lost, and he thinks that he'll probably cry and maybe get angry. It might not be a bad idea to get someone to train with him - someone like Toph, who'll fight first and ask questions later - until he's so exhausted he can't dwell on it any longer.

"I'm sorry, Katara," he whispers.

"Me too," she replies.

And then he leaves, and that's the end of it.

Zuko is cleaning the tables in preparation for the dinner rush when she stumbles down the steps and sinks into a chair. He glances at her, and then pointedly walks out of the room, making her feel ostracized and thoroughly reprehensible - until he returns a moment later with a pot of tea and two cups. He takes the seat across from her and pours them each a cup, leaning back in his chair with his clutched in his hands.

"How did it go?" he asks finally, in a low voice.

She sighs, "As well as I could hope. He wasn't angry or... I think someone talked to him about it before he came up to talk to me. Maybe June," she muses, "because he was repeating some of the things I was talking to her about last night."

"Nah," Zuko replies, waving a hand. "June's still across town. Must have been someone else. Did you talk it out with him?"

"Sort of," she whispers hoarsely, and hides her emotions behind her teacup. "We... aren't going to be getting married."

He hesitates before responding, "I don't want to say I'm happy about that, but it seems like it's for the best."

"It is," she agrees, nodding. "I just... I wish I loved him, you know?"

"Yeah," he says, "I know. I wish I loved Mai like I used to."

"Did it hurt when you... I mean," she winces, unsure how to vocalize her thoughts. Fortunately, Zuko seems to get it.

"It did. A lot." He runs a hand through his hair. "She... she saw it coming, and I think she understood, but it still hurt to..." he trails off, choosing instead to stare into his tea. It's not his best, but the point isn't really to be tasty, it's to distract them from the horribly awkward conversation they're having. Friends, he thinks, are almost more trouble than they're worth. On the other hand, he muses, imagining Katara having to go through this alone, he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I always heard that it hurt to have your heart broken," she says, with a mirthless laugh. "I never knew it would hurt to do the breaking."

"Yeah, I know," he replies lamely, wishing that he was good enough with words to make her stop feeling the way she is obviously feeling - like a terrible person, the scum of the earth, the muck on the bottom of someone's shoe - because he's been there, and he knows. Even if Aang swoops in right now and tells her that he's already forgiven her and that he'll never blame her and that she's a wonderful person, it won't matter at all. What would Uncle say in this situation? "I... I guess," he starts, rubbing the back of his head, "it just means you care, you know? If you didn't, you wouldn't... care."

He would like very much to be an Earthbender right now, so he could sink through the floor.

"I guess," she says, either too used to his in-eloquence or too down to care. He hopes sincerely for the former. "I wish I hadn't gotten drunk last night." He's about to say something like well, some good did come of it, right? when she adds, "Because I'd really, really rather get drunk tonight instead."

"There's nothing that says you can't get stupidly plastered two nights in a row," he replies lightly. She glares at him, and the hint of a smile appears on her face, and relief hits him like a bucket of water - she'll be okay. For the first time in thirty-six hours, he actually believes that.

"Nothing except the memory of this morning, that is," she counters, wrinkling her nose. "And that's a really, really powerful deterrent."

"Well... The equinox is coming up, isn't it?" he asks, and she nods, confused. "If the Earth Kingdom is anything like the Fire Nation, they'll take any excuse they can get to party, and that's a pretty good one. I'm sure we can find a party. Or make one, if we have to."

She raises her eyebrows. "That's your plan? Go out and turn Ba Sing Se into a giant party because the equinox is next week?"

"And... because..." he flounders, "because you and Aang could both use some cheering up."

"Zuko, I don't even think that's possible at five o'clock in the afternoon in the middle of the week."

"Sure it is," he replies, shrugging, and stands up, picking up the tea tray and walking back into the kitchen. Katara follows him warily. "We just have to talk to the right people."

"And who might the right people be?"

"Sokka. And Teo. And Toph."

She laughs outright at this, and he relaxes at the sound - she's laughing again, that's good. "That might be the craziest idea you've ever had, Zuko."

"And yet, you're still following me."

Katara just smiles.