MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!

So yeah, I'm not dead, even though I feel horrifically guilty for not writing anything in about five months. But here we are. The least I could give all of you is a little Christmas fic for sticking with me all this time.

In addition to Christmas, I would like to wish my very dear friend Gina Jade a happy two-year anniversary. I can't believe it's been two years since we've met. I can't believe that I've been writing for this fandom for two years. Holy fudge. Where has all the time gone?

I own nothing. Avatar: The Last Airbender and all of its components belong to Mike, Bryan, Nickelodeon, and Viacom.

Enjoy!

Zuko really wished—not for the first time—that the Fire Nation had snow.

Sitting in a massive room in the Bei Fong residence, Zuko stared out the windows at the rapidly falling snow through frosted glass. The frigid air outside contrasted with the cozy warmth inside produced a contended wave of lethargy in the room. Embers flew from the fireplace, and the carefully guarded candles on the enormous fir tree flickered and danced.

The tiny, tiny person resting against his heart—Sokka and Suki's six-week-old daughter, Ren—stirred and moved to clutch the littlest fistful of his silk tunic before settling once more into peaceful oblivion. Zuko wasn't entirely sure how he had come to be in charge of the baby, but at some point, he was suddenly holding her. Wholly paranoid about dropping her or holding her wrong or somehow completely traumatizing her, Zuko had decided that the best plan of action would be to sit down.

As he gazed out the window at the flurry, he thought of Katara. The first time he had seen snow—when he finally found the Avatar at the South Pole—he hadn't really noticed it, despite its overwhelming abundance. He had had tunnel vision and could only see the blue tattoos of his prize. Then at the Northern Water Tribe, he had been too busy fighting Katara and Zhao and coming so close to capturing Aang to truly be aware of it.

Several months after the war had ended, Katara took him down to her tribe so he could see how much the tribe had progressed because of the reparations he had sent. It was a small town then as opposed to the sad cluster of tents on the ice, and he was awed by everyone's immediate hospitality.

There, he had been formally introduced to Kana, who had referred to him as "Katara's pretty boy" until Katara, whose face was equally as crimson as Zuko's, took her grandmother aside and said quite frankly that they were not together. This convention, however, did not stop Kana from calling him a colorful arrange of nicknames that all alluded to Zuko and Katara dating.

This was the time that Zuko truly saw snow. The children were throwing snowballs at each other, screaming and shrieking. Even though it was probably unintentional, the game was oddly choreographed and orderly. There were two teams, and on each team, Zuko observed, there were children rolling snowballs, others who would take those snowballs and stockpile them, several kids who threw the snowballs, and the brave few that repaired the "fort" should it collapse.

Naturally, Zuko had to make his own snowball, and because it would have been unfair to help one team over the other, he threw it at Katara instead. He should have known that that would have been a bad idea, for not two seconds later, he was basically attack by a snow bank. Katara bit back laughter as she bent the snow away and held out a mittened hand to help him get back up.

"Nice try," she said jokingly. Absently, she bent a palm-sized Momo out of snow.

Zuko grinned and shrugged, staring at the little figure. "Make Appa," he said. She cocked an eyebrow at the juvenile suggestion but did it anyway, soon cradling a small flying bison in her hands.

"No, make Appa," he instructed. "Life-sized Appa."

And so began the day when the entire South Pole became a zoo of life-sized platypus bears and dragons and rabbiroos and lion turtles made entirely out of snow as well as the day they shared their first frozen kiss.

Now, with thoughts flooded with snow and Katara and with Ren snuggled just under his chin, he drifted off into quiet sleep.

...

Katara found Zuko and the baby napping together by the fireplace and the giant tree. She stopped against the wide doorframe and just watched. Despite what Zuko kept insisting, he wasn't terrible with kids. It was actually really cute to see him so flustered and concerned for the baby.

After long moments, she went to scoop the baby up and return her to Suki. The little girl, swaddled in festive reds and greens, scrunched her nose as she slept and squirmed unhappily. Katara whispered her apologies and sought out Suki before strolling back through the hallways to the room with the tree and Zuko. Katara knew that if Zuko were to wake up without knowing where Ren was, something was likely to be turned to cinders in his worry.

She merely sat on the floor with her legs neatly tucked beneath her, surrounded by boxes with shiny paper wrappings or bags with embossed sceneries on the sides. Nearly all of them, Katara knew, were from Uncle, and a great portion of them were for the baby: blankets and toys and diapers and little sun hats for when they visited the Fire Nation.

Gazing up, Katara really wished—not for the first time—that the South Pole had trees. The magnificent tree that had somehow been dragged into the house was breathtakingly wonderful. It was laden with small figures of birds carved out of a light wood, silk bows, strings of dried berries, and—her favorite—blown glass baubles in every color. In the bleak slate of blinding white nothingness that was the Southern Water Tribe, a grand tree such as this one would be the perfect addition to the holiday season.

She heard Zuko move and then a piercingly sharp intake of breath.

"Suki has Ren," she said quickly.

Zuko cracked his neck. "Perfect," he said, a bit unaware. He looked over at Katara and then up the tree to the golden star up at the very top. It shimmered in the soft light of the room. "It's official. I'm putting up a Christmas tree next year in the palace."

Katara smiled and patted the floor next to her. "Good. Then the only thing missing then will be snow."

"That's what you're for," he teased, sitting heavily beside her. She didn't even bother with a comeback and simply leaned against his shoulder. "It's two whole years since the war ended. And now, here we are."

"Here we are," Katara echoed, thoughtful. She kissed his scarred cheek. They sat in silence until most of the candles on the tree were extinguished, both drifting between reality and dreams.

In the morning, she will open a small box with a delicate hair piece—it was his mother's, once upon a time—and she will insist that it's too much. He will ignore her and slip it into her topknot anyway. "Merry Christmas," he will say softly. He will grin to himself and brush off questions; the small comb is nearly nothing.

He will propose at dinner.

And she will say yes.

~Fin~

I am completely aware that Christmas doesn't exist in the Avatar world, but when has that stopped anyone before? Never. And I seem to be very good at writing about mundane events in great detail. The story is pure fluff—seriously, nothing happens—and yet, I managed to write two full pages about it. Also, I love the idea of Zuko and small children. xD

The mood of the story precisely fits the mood of my house right now. It's very lazy and warm and holidayish. We're just spending a cozy day at home, cooking and watching Christmas movies and eating pretty much everything. Tomorrow becomes a whirlwind, though, with people to see and places to go and presents to open.

Have a wonderful and safe Christmas and New Year's, all my lovely readers.

Review, please?
Happy holidays, Zutarians.
Erika
xoxo