Snowball

A/N: a monster of a story, again :P Nowadays, I simply can't write short stories… Okay, so it's a kind-of-prequel for Kids Will be Kids, thought you don't have to read that to understand this.
Also, this was written for Zutara fans unite community on Devianart – I don't know wheter it'll be accepted, since I am a few hours late :S Well, let's hope for the best :)
Rating: T
Word Count: 10870
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you that I don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender]

"And what's that, daddy?"

Zuko sighed – it had to be at least the fifteenth question Bin-bin had asked in the last ten minutes –, but still turned to where his daughter was pointing at.

"That's called an anchor, sweetie. People lower it to the sea, so the ship won't move away." He said, trying not to sound annoyed at all. Bin-bin gave an understanding 'oh'-sound, then, twisting in his arm again, pointed at something else again, repeating the question.

Zuko loved his children, he really did, but when they were passing this phase – when they wanted to know virtually everything – they could be quite tiresome, especially at times like this, when they were taken to a new, exciting place – just like the docks.

Katara was due in a week with their fourth child, and Hakoda, who insisted to be there for all his grandchildren's birth, was expected to arrive at any moment. In fact, Zuko would have sworn that he could already see the top of the blue sail in the distance – of course, it could have been that he was just eager to get back to the palace already.

He had brought down all three his children – the three-year-old Bib-bin, five-year-old Lya and eight-year-old Kizo – to the docks to meet their grandpa as soon as he docked, while Katara had stayed back at the palace. Coming down, Zuko had been sure that he could handle his children without Katara or any of their nursemaids for a few short hours, but slowly he was proved to be wrong. Thought Bin-bin was more or less content sitting on his hip while coming up with more and more questions, demanding answers for all of them, Kizo and Lya were harder cases, exploring the area themselves, running around. Thank Agni they had a couple guards with them who prevented them from getting too far and getting lost. Zuko didn't know how citizens handled their children without the help of nannies. He was only calm as long as they were within sight and out of the water.

It seemed like an eternity until the Water Tribe ship really did appear on the horizon and passed the Gates of Azulon – until then, Zuko had answered at least two dozens of Bin-bin's questions and warned Kizo and Lya at least three times not to bother the people around them or wander too far away.

It was a real blessing when Hakoda finally embarked the ship.

"Grandpa!" Shouted Kizo and Lya, running into the older man's outstretched arms, and even Bin-bin, who had met her maternal grandfather only a handful times – and never her paternal one – wriggled herself out of her father's arm, and followed her siblings.

"Look at you, little rascals, how much you have grown since I last saw you!" laughed Hakoda throwing the squealing Lya into the air. The children were suddenly so excited to see their grandpa, that all three of them were talking at the same time, trying to be heard, speaking so fast that Zuko could read from Hakoda's face that the older man hardly grasped anything from it. Zuko waited until they ran out of topics, and stepped to his father-in-law only then.

"Sir," he greeted Hakoda, grasping his forearm in the traditional Water Tribe fashion. He couldn't help it – even after more than a decade with Katara, he still always felt like a teenager facing his girlfriend's father for the first time whenever he met Hakoda after months of not seeing him.

"Son," was Hakoda's only answer as he let go of Zuko's forearm and embraced the young man awkwardly with one arm. Then hell broke out again: apparently, the children found their wits, and started speaking again.

"Did you meet the great sea serpent Uncle Sokka told us about?"

"There really is tha'much snow in the Sou'Pole? Kizo told me about it, but I don't believe him…"

"Have you brought us something grandpa, have you?"

Zuko couldn't help but chuckle at them. However, his good spirits turned out to be short living, because Hakoda laughed and answered only the very last question asked.

"Of course I have brought you something! Would I dare to come here without bearing gifts?" He ruffled Bin-bin's hair. "Wait until you see it! Or, more precisely, her," and with that he called for his fellow tribesmen, who were currently unloading the ship, asking them to bring over the children's gift.

Zuko didn't like that Hakoda had just referred to the gift as her.

Soon two men embarked the ship, carrying a large woven basket with a blanket thrown over it. The blanket moved. Zuko took an involuntary half-step backwards.

The two Water Tribesmen put the basket down at Hakoda's feet, and the children were around it in a blink of an eye, curious what was in it. Zuko peered over their heads, more afraid than curious. The basket whined; there was undoubtedly an animal in it, and he was not on good terms with the animal inhabitants of the South Pole. His back still ached when he thought about the ill-fated penguin sledding Aang had dragged him to when he had first visited the South Pole after the war.

Hakoda pulled the blanket off.

The children squealed.

Zuko cringed.

"How cute!" exclaimed Lya, already reaching for the white fluffball with a long, pink tongue hanging out of its mouth, blinking in the sudden light, moving its bright, dark eyes around its surroundings. Zuko had half a mind to garb her hands and yank them away. "What it is, grandpa?"

Zuko knew the answer before Hakoda spoke, but it doesn't mean that he liked it.

"A polar beardog, darling," Hakoda said, crouching down next to the basket so he would be at the same level with his grandkids. "They are native at both Poles, but we don't have many of them at the Southern Water Tribe. They are very loyal and love little children like you are, and they make an excellent ride when they grow up. I thought that you should have one of them, so you will always remember that even thought you are living here in the Fire Nation, a part of you, here," he pointed at Kizo's chest, where his heart was beating, "will always be Water Tribe." He stood up. "And anyway, every child should have a pet, don't you think so, Zuko?"

Zuko couldn't really decided whether it was supposed to be a slight accusation for he had not yet acquired a pet for them, or a challenge to accept this… creature. He assumed it was both.

"They have pets. We have a whole pond of turtleducks." He protested, but Hakoda only shook his head.

"Turtleducks are turtleducks; they are adorable, I won't deny that, but they are no pets. They are nice to have around, but you can't really count them as a pet." Hakoda shrugged.

Zuko wanted to disagree with that, but he saw that there was no point in arguing with his father-in-law on this matter, so instead he looked at the Polar Beardog, who was by them curiously sniffing at Bin-bin, half out of its – her – basket, making the little girl squeal with delight. She was already a tad bigger than any animal Zuko was comfortable letting near his children, and he knew that she would grow to be even bigger. She was just a young pup, surely just old enough to be separated from her mother. His gaze wandered to the dog's paws, to her claws partially hidden by fluffy white fur, then to her mouth, full of white, sharp teeth.

There was no way he would let this creature into the palace.

Of course, it wasn't like it was actually his decision. He might have been the Fire Lord, but he was still pathetically outnumbered by his children, so before he could have blinked, he was already sitting in the carriage with his children, Hakoda, and the dog.

Actually, he had half a mind to tell Hakoda to have the creature brought back to the ship and taken back to the South Pole, but then he held himself back. For one thing, it would have been horribly rude to out-right refuse Hakoda's gift. Secondly, he knew that with that kind of approach, the only thing he would accomplish was to have his children mad at him. And anyway, he didn't dare to make decisions concerning their family life without Katara – especially now. A pregnant Katara was an easily angered Katara.

He took Bin-bin into his lap, as a simple precaution, wanting to keep her as far from their 'gift's as he could, but much to his dismay, it seemed like dog was the most interested in her. She was dashing around in the carriage, free from her basket, yelping, sniffing at everybody and everything, sticking her head out of the carriage, then crawling back, trying to lick the children's faces. Zuko watched her with wary eyes.

"Kizo, don't let her crawl into your lap; she will ruin your clothes," he said with strained calmness in his voice, grabbing the dog, trying to pull it off his son. He kind of expected Hakoda to side with him, but the older man only laughed.

"Let them live a little, Zuko! They are children only once. What if their clothes get a little dirty? They can be washed."

Zuko forced a half-smile on his face, letting go of the dog. He had long ago decided that grandfathers were terrible – they were letting children do practically everything, like they had forgotten how it feels to be a father; uncle Iroh was even worse than Hakoda from this point of view.

"Of course. It's just…" from the corner of his eyes he saw the white furball jump to the seat next to Lya, licking the little girl's face, making her laugh. He swallowed hard. "It's just I don't think that Katara will be happy when we get back to the palace and all of their clothes are ruined, that's all." It was a weak lie, but he hoped that it would do.

Hakoda smirked, pulling one corner of his mouth higher than the other, giving him the look of a man who had been there – several times – where he was now.

"Daddy, can we name her Snowball? Because she looks like a big snowball, you know? Can we?" Lya asked, and Kizo nodded instantly, backing up his sister. Zuko looked at the dog, who was currently very busy trying to pull off one of Kizo's shoes; Zuko could only hope that her teeth were still too weak to actually hurt anybody.

"I think we should wait giving her a name and things like that, Lya. It wouldn't be nice to decided on things like that without asking mummy, would it?" He told her, tearing his gaze from the dog. Actually, he hoped that Katara would side with him – after all, soon they were going to have a new born in the palace. She couldn't possibly want this animal around the baby. "Let's wait with that until we get home, okay?"

Lya only nodded somewhat sadly, but Hakoda chuckled at his son-in-law's words.

"Still afraid of her?" He asked teasingly. Zuko shrugged, taking his arms from Bin-bin's middle. The little girl used the opportunity and slipped from his lap in an instant.

"What can I say? She is a force to be reckoned with." Hakoda only laughed at this, but Zuko didn't really pay attention to him; he was more preoccupied by watching his younger daughter pulling at the dog's tail.

"Don't worry about it. I am sure that Katara is going to be all over this goofy pup. She and Sokka used to have one when they were little, you know? I am positive that she is going to love this one as well."

Zuko could only hope that it wasn't the case, because if it was, he had no chance of getting rid of this animal.

Well, he soon was proved to be wrong.

If it possible, Katara adored the pup even more than their children did. Before supper, she even get down to the floor with the kids – even though by then she had difficulties with standing up with her stomach so huge – and petted and rubbed the dog's stomach. She just couldn't thank her father for bringing the dog enough. And, just to make the matters worse, she approved Lya's choice of name, and so from that night the dog was known as Snowball.

Zuko didn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

Still, he tried to reason with his wife that night. When all the children were tucked in – after a nice long bedtime story delivered by their grandpa -, Hakoda retired to his room, and Zuko and Katara were alone in their chambers, Zuko tried to bring up the topic.

"So… are you absolutely positive that it's a good idea to let that dog near our children?" He started quite straightforwardly, coming out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. Katara was sitting by her vanity, brushing her hair, but as she heard her husband's voice, she turned around, her gaze almost accusing.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, I mean, these things grow to be quite big, and who knows, they can get mad and out of control. Just a quick look aside, and the next thing we know that this 'Snowball' has attacked Kizo or Lya or Bin-bin or the new baby," he rambled, sitting on their bed, massaging the back of his neck with one hand. Somehow his wife still could make him feel guilty and stupid with one single glance.

Katara sighed and, with little difficulty, stood up from the vanity, walked over to him, waddling like a mama turtleduck, sat behind him on the bed and swatting his hand away, and started kneading his neck.

"Something tells me that somebody is worrying about things not worth worrying over again," she pressed a kiss to his temple. "Believe me when I say that Snowball poses no danger to any of the children. I remember the Polar Beardog we had with Sokka – she died during that raid which cost my mother's life…" she sighed, loosing her composure for a moment, but by the time Zuko took her hand, wanting to comfort her, she had already pulled herself together. "She was a dear thing. I can't remember her being a pup, but Sokka might. All I know is that she was tamer than sparrowkeet – we could pull at her tail or ear, grab her fur when we wanted to climb on her back, and all she would do was to lick our faces," she smiled at the memory. "What I am meaning to say is that I am rather happy that dad brought Snowball here. The kids really deserve a cute – well, not little – animal to play with, and no offence, but the Fire Nation fauna has not so many species I would be comfortable my children having." She kissed him again, this time the corner of his mouth, then she scooted back to her side of the bed, lying down.

"But what about the baby?" Asked Zuko, still not quite convinced, lying down next to her, placing his hand on her belly; he could feel the child kick and turn under his palm vigorously – experiences like this always made him wonder how could Katara rest during the final months of her pregnancies.

"He will be fine, just like his siblings will," she told him, covering his hand with her own. This was another thing that had always amazed him about Katara – she always seemed to know without fail whether they were going to have a boy or a girl. "I've already told you – Polar Beardogs are completely reliable around children, and they even make excellent babysitters. Now, would you please put out the torches? We need our rest."

Despite still not quite calmed down, Zuko did what he was asked, smiling to himself – Katara tended to use plural sometimes when she was with a child, and he had always found it incredibly adorable.

When the room was finally dark and he had his arm around her middle, caressing her belly, trying to lull to child inside to sleep, he tried to bring up the topic one more time.

"But what if…"

"Zuko," her voice carried an almost dangerous note. "Stop worrying. It only makes me anxious and annoyed. Everything will be fine. I swear, if you get started on this one more time, I'll make you sleep with Snowball." And with that, the topic was closed from her part.

Zuko sighed, but didn't say anything else; he saw no point to. Katara, just like him, was a stubborn creature, and right then there was nothing that could have changed her opinion on Snowball.

But this didn't mean that Zuko wouldn't keep a close eye on the dog.

The following weeks went by in a blur.

On the fourth day of Hakoda's stay, not long after noon, Katara gave birth to their fourth child, a boy, just like she had predicted. The birth was quick and easy, and he was completely healthy with chubby, round face and a mop of black hair. On the third day of his life, during a lavish ceremony, he was given the name Kaemon.

During the days before and after his birth the palace was full of guests who had come to see him – only two days after Hakoda embarked came Sokka and Suki with their two children, then Iroh, and Aang at last, brining Toph along. Their arrival was followed with several ambassadors and politicians, with more or less warm well wishes. Even Kuei came, alongside, of course, Bosco – which meant that for a whole week Zuko was not only worried about the presence of Snowball, but the presence of the bear as well; he was even afraid that the two animals would attack each other, even though Snowball was still way smaller than Bosco. Of course, as Katara liked to point out, he had no reason to fear: as it turned out, Bosco loved to be around the small white furball, and even let him pull at his ears.

The guests came and went, and Zuko didn't even realize how tiresome they were until the palace was relatively empty again. But no more uncles, aunts and grandpas meant that the children now spent their time in the company of someone about whom Zuko was not at all happy: Snowball.

The dog grew rapidly, even though Katara said that she needed at least two years to reach her final size. She outgrew the basket she had arrived in mere three weeks, and by the fourth week of her stay at the palace, she was already as tall as Bin-bin.

As much as it unnerved Zuko, the dog spent almost all of her wake hours around the children – she woke up when they did, followed them to the gardens, was around when they were taking lessons from their tutors, slept next to them when they were taking their naps, and even went to bed at night when they did – the tricky creature somehow found her way into their rooms as well, and thought Zuko was less than happy about that, he find after his third unsuccessful attempt of putting Snowball out of the palace, that it was completely hopeless. If the dog wanted to come in, she came in. It didn't help the matters that the guards adored her as well.

But as soon as she broke a vase or damaged anything, Zuko promised himself, he would chase Snowball out of the palace for good.

On the top of everything, when the dog finally got tired of the children, or they were napping when she was not, Snowball found somebody else to make friends with – to bother -, and this somebody was no other than Zuko himself.

Sometimes, in the early afternoon, when the girls were sent back to their rooms to take a nap, Katara tended Kaemon and Kizo was either learning or practicing his firebending, Snowball would find her way into Zuko's office. Katara once witnessed the dog's arrival and behavior in the Fire Lord's office, and found it incredibly endearing. For the record, Zuko absolutely didn't share her opinion.

It always happened the following way: Snowball would calmly walk down the corridor, greet the guards with a small bark and swing of her tail, go to Zuko's door, wait until it was opened for her – or, when she was big enough to move the door herself, she would let herself in – and then stick her head into the room, looking around. When she found – the slightly irritated – Zuko by his desk, she would trot into the room slowly, not making a scene (thought it was something to see when she did that those times when Zuko had somebody, for example a minister, in his office), and then crawl under the desk, technically lying on Zuko's feet and resting her head on the Fire Lord's knees, as if waiting for him to scratch her head, or, better yet, start a conversation.

During the first days, Zuko tried to get her out of the office, ushering the dog back to the corridor. When it didn't work, he had Snowball escorted back to the gardens; it didn't work either, because the only thing he accomplished with it was to have Snowball painfully wail under his window until she was let back. So, with nothing else to do, he let the dog technically sleep on him. But, of course, not without giving Snowball a piece of his mind.

"I don't care if you look at me like that," he told her one day, when the dog placed her head on his knees, looking at him expectantly. "I won't pet you, or rub your belly, or anything like that. If you want somebody to do that, you'll have to find somebody else."

The dog yawned, then reaching up, she licked Zuko's hand. He jerked it away.

"Didn't you hear me? I don't like you. If it was up to me, you would be already back at the South Pole. Don't try and make friends with me."

Snowball only tried to lick his hand again.

"You are a little stubborn, aren't you?" Zuko said, lifting the dog's head from his lap. "Go away. Out. Now." Again, it didn't work. Snowball only put her muzzle back on his knees.

"You are terrible, you know that?" Zuko said, giving up finishing the report he was working on. "Why don't you get that I want nothing to do with you? Honestly, I am only waiting for the reason to get rid of you. It was Katara and the kids' decision to have you, not mine. I am watching you, for you to know: one step to the wrong direction, one false move, one broken thing in the palace, or, Agni forbid, a scratch on my children, and you are already on your way to the Ba Sing Se Zoo. Mark my words."

He only realized that Katara was standing at his door all along with Kaemon in her arms, when she started chuckling.

"What?" Zuko asked her, a little bit more harshly than he wanted to.

"Nothing, it's just that your little speech eerily reminded me to the one I gave you when you first joined us during the war. And look where we are now!" And with that, forgetting why she came in the first place, she left the office with the dumbfounded Zuko and the way too happy Polar Beardog inside.

Time went by, and Snowball got more and more attached to the royal family. The children loved her, Katara adored her, and even Ursa thought that it was a good thing to have the dog around.

Two months after her arrival, Snowball was big enough to reach Zuko's shoulder if she stood on her hind legs. It kind of scared Zuko, since Katara said it would be two years until Snowball grew up, but seeing the rapid rate the dog was growing, he doubted that it would take that long.

At the same time, Snowball was getting bigger and bigger liberty in the palace. Before Zuko knew, she was already in the breakfast room in the mornings (even though he had told the children that no animals were allowed there), in the anteroom of the children's chamber in the evening, when Katara was telling them bedtime stories (even thought he had stated that the anteroom was no place for dogs), and spending the night in one or the other child's room (even thought he had all but outright forbidden it). Fire Lord or not, he was starting to realize that he had almost no power in his own family.

Meanwhile the rainy season came and went, and came what the people of the Fire Nation called Spring – clear, sunny weather, without the suffocating heat that dominated the better part of the year. The children started spending more and more time in the gardens - which meant that Snowball spent less and less time in the palace – and Katara started mentioning in their conversations that how nice it would be if they could go to Ember Island for a few days. The short Spring season also marked Lya's sixth birthday.

Although he didn't want to admit it, even Zuko started to get used to the idea of having Snowball around, warming up to her – after all, almost three months had passed since Kaemon's birth and, despite his fears, having the dog around didn't cause any problems. She turned out to be rather well-behaved and intelligent, even – much to his surprise, one day his three older children called Katara and him to the gardens, to show him what tricks they had taught the dog. He was amazed, really – Snowball sat, lay down, shook paws and rolled around on command. Kizo also wanted to teach her the jump through one of the metal hoops he used during his firebending training to improve his aim, but the dog wouldn't do it. Zuko chose not to mention to him that in a few weeks Snowball would be too big the fit through the hoop anyway. From then on he wasn't even that upset when the Polar Beardog trotted into his office in the afternoon to have a nap with her head in Zuko's lap.

But his feeling of security seemed to be false, when one evening something happened.

He was on his way back to his and Katara's bedchambers after a very long and tiring meeting with some Earth Kingdom ambassadors. The sun had already set, but the edge of the sky was still painted dark orange. The children were already in their rooms, Bin-bin most likely already asleep, Lya maybe taking her bath, Kizo reading, with only a few attendants around them. Zuko saw them as he passed the partially closed door of their shared anteroom; he even thought about visiting them as soon as he got rid of his heavy mantle and robe. Maybe he would even offer to tell them a story…

He stepped into his and Katara's shared chambers with these thoughts in his mind. He had just closed the great door behind him, and reached for the claps of his mantle to take of the heavy garment, when he heard a painful cry.

The blood froze in his veins.

It came from the direction of the children's rooms.

He was back at the door in an instant, hardly noticing that Katara had come out of the small nursery that was adjoined to their bedroom as well, a horrified look on her face as she handed Keamon in haste to her chambermaid.

Throwing the door open he sprinted down the corridor; in his panic his mind didn't even register that the cry he had heard was way too deep and masculine to come from either of his children.

Reaching the kids' room in mere seconds, with Katara in his heels, he came to find a terrible scene going on there.

Snowball was in the middle of the room, on top of a male servant, tearing at his forearm, like she was going to rip his arm off altogether, the pieces of a broken water jug around them. Kizo was standing at his doorway, almost frozen in his place, a petrified look on his face. The two attendants Zuko saw earlier cowered to the wall between two large windows, one of them keeping Lya secured against her skirts.

Zuko didn't waste a moment; he didn't wait until the guards arrived, but jumped at the dog himself, grabbing her by the skin of her neck, pulling her aside, rolling her on the tiled floor, until they were a good seven feet from the injured servant and he was on the top of Snowball. Still holding the dog by her neck, he pushed her to the ground, expecting the animal to lash out any moment and attack again, but much to Zuko's surprise, Snowball remained quite calm. She didn't try to push Zuko off, or jump at the servant again, only growled menacingly at the man, who was already on his feet, blood dripping from his injured arm.

"She… she attacked me!" The servant said, standing by the opposite wall, pointing with his trembling, uninjured hand at Snowball. Zuko looked at him – really looked at him – for the first time since he had entered the room. He was only merely familiar, which meant that he must have been quite new at the palace. He was a rather average looking man of about forty, with nondescript brown eyes, regular height and black hair graying at his temples. "Just like that! I didn't do anything! Anything at all!"

Snowball barked at him and he instantly fell silent, cradling his injured hand.

"Let me see it; I'll heal it for you…" Katara stepped to the attacked servant, offering him her help. When she reached him, she looked at her husband. "Zuko?" She said; it was only his name, but the question held so many meanings.

Zuko nodded, not quite sure what he was agreeing to.

"I'll be right back," he said, standing up and pulling Snowball by the neck with him. The dog put on almost no resistance, only barked at the servant once. "I'll just take care of… her."

He hardly turned his back at them when he heard Kizo gasp and then speak up.

"Dad!" his son took a few tentative steps towards him, a mix of shock and fear on his face. "You are not… you are not going to… right?"

Zuko stopped at the door. Was he going to?

"No," he said at last, "I'll only close her up for the night, so she won't cause any more problems. When I am back we will discuss what happens now." And with that he was already outside that door.

He half expected Snowball to do something aggressive, to lash out at him, but the dog was completely calm, letting Zuko lead her out of the palace and through the gardens. She even had the nerve to wriggle her tail, like they were only taking a little walk. Zuko was simple unable to comprehend this dog.

He took her to the opposite end of the palace, to a small, unused shed near the servants' quarters. At first he had half a mind to have Snowball taken to the prison cells, but then he changed his mind; it would have been a little too much. The shed was no prison, but at least it could be closed up, and it was far enough from the family wing to let him sleep well.

He ushered Snowball into the small, dark place; the dog only whimpered in protest, but complied; when inside she turned around and looked into Zuko's eyes, almost accusing, almost begging.

"Don't look at me like that," Zuko spoke, his voice a little irritated, adrenalin still flowing in his veins. "I told you in the beginning: one false step…"

Snowball moved forward and, almost as a peace offering, licked Zuko's hand. Her muzzle was still a little bit bloody.

"No. Don't do that. I won't change my mind about you, not now." He sighed. "I might have… started liking you a little bit. But now I see the way you really are. I can see that I can't trust you completely, and I will only have people – well, people and animals – around my family whom I can completely trust. So, you are on the next ship going to the Earth Kingdom." Softening a little, he almost put his hand on the top of Snowball's head, but then he thought better, and restrained himself from showing affection. "And you can be happy that I am only sending you to Ba Sing Se. I could have you killed."

Snowball let out a heart-wrenching whine as Zuko closed and bolted the door of the shed.

When he got back to the children's anteroom a few minutes later, he found his whole family there huddled up together. Katara was sitting on the sofa, surrounded by their three older children, all of them snuggling close to her, all of them sobbing into her dressing gown. The servants had already left, but the water spilled from the broken jug was still on the floor.

He sat down on the armchair opposite of them, suddenly feeling at least ten years older than he really was. Bin-bin stopped crying for a moment and looked at him; she slowly climbed off her mother's lap, walked to him, and crawled on top of his tights, burying her face into his shirt. Zuko's arms curled around her seemingly on their own, holding the little girl close. He didn't want to know what would have happened if Snowball had decided to attack her.

"Where's Snowball, Daddy?" She asked, talking into his shirt.

"In a safe place, sweetie. So she won't cause any problems."

"And is she alone?" Bin-bin's voice was full of concern and love for the dog.

"Daddy, you can't have Snowball alone for the whole night!" Lya exclaimed from her mother's side, her tears stopping. "She is scared when she is alone. That's why she always sleeps with us."

"Lya, darling, you have to understand…" Zuko started, wanting to make them see that it was for their own good. That Snowball had to go, that it wasn't safe to be around her anymore. A dog that once attacked somebody will attack again. He couldn't have the next victim to be one of his children.

"But Dad, Snowball would never hurt us!" Kizo protested, not letting his father finish his sentence. "She loves us. She only attacked that servant because… well, I don't know, but she must have had her reason."

"It doesn't make sense to me either," Katara spoke for the first time since Zuko had gotten back to the room, drawing her husband's attention to her. "I told you when Snowball got here – Polar Beardogs are not aggressive. They can be completely trusted around children. Spirits, I have seen Bin-bin pull at her tail and ears, and she didn't lash out once; she only licked her face. Whatever the children did, she simple bore. She has had no problem with servants, either. Then why attack now? Something must have triggered her – the only question is what?"

Zuko knew he should have considered her words, but he was simply unable to do so. The only thing on his mind was that he had seen this coming from the very start. He knew something like this was going to happen. He only felt sorry for the children. They had really grown to love the dog and loosing her was really going to hit them hard.

But there was nothing else to do.

"I have no idea why he attacked that servant – even if he had a reason. But we have to face it: Polar Beardogs might have been domesticated, but they are still predators. They are not harmless fluffy little things like turtleducks; they are fighters, warriors. And a predator who once attacked a person, will do it again," he put Bin-bin down from his lap and knelt on the floor, so he could look into all his children's eyes. "So you have to see that he can't stay."

"Are you… are you going to have him… eliminated?" Kizo asked, almost whispering. Under any other circumstances Zuko would have chuckled at his son's choice of words – eliminate was such a big word for an eight-year-old -, but now he knew that Kizo had done this so his sisters wouldn't understand.

"No," Zuko answered quietly, casting his gaze down, "I won't. I am sending her to Ba Sing Se. She will like living in the zoo, you'll see. And you will be able to visit her there, too."

He had hoped that it would sound sincere and that it would cheer the children up a little, but if anything, they seemed even more saddened. Zuko hated seeing them like this. He looked into his wife's eyes, looking for guidance, but he found nothing there; Katara was just as lost as he was, and even more confused. She was the one who had grown up amongst Polar Beardogs; she was the one who understood these animals better, yet she couldn't put a finger on the night's happenings.

They stayed there for a few more minutes, the children sobbing quietly, their parents speechless. After some time Katara declared that it was way past the kids' bedtime and tucked them in – it was eerie how little protest they put on. Usually it took at least an hour until all three children were in bed, and now they were under the covers in less than five minutes. They had no energy nor will to put on a fight. They didn't even ask for a story.

Later, when Katara and Zuko were back in their chambers, getting ready for bed themselves, Zuko didn't feel like himself. With his mind he knew it was the right thing to do. It was enough to worry about his nation and the occasional attempts on his life – he thanked all spirits that none of the children had been targeted so far -, he didn't need a raging animal near his kids. But deep down something still felt off. He tried to consult with Katara about it, but she could not help him either.

"What do you want me to say, Zuko?" She asked him, as she loosened her robes to feed the fussing Kaemon before they went to sleep. "That you are completely right about having Snowball shipped off to the Earth Kingdom? I can't tell you that. I said what I said in the kids' room: something is off with this attack. I have been watching her and the children; she has been the picture of the perfect pet so far. Not an aggressive, wild mood, not an accidental scratch on the children. Nothing. She has been gentle and playful with them all along. Then why now? Why would she attack, without provocation, nonetheless? Because I am telling you: there was some kind of provocation, I am sure. Something that angered or scared her…"

"But there was nothing of that sort!" Zuko exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "I saw nothing; the kids saw nothing, or they would have told us. The servants? They all but look through Snowball. What that poor man could have done to have the dog attack him? Step on her tail?"

"The fact that we didn't see anything doesn't mean that nothing happened," Katara protested. "Polar Beardogs are smarter than they seem; Snowball might have noticed something that nobody else did. A scent, a bad intention, anything… that servant, the one she attacked, is new here, isn't he?"

"I guess. I mean, he wasn't somebody who's around us everyday. But this place has a lot of servants; I can't keep track of all of them." He sat down on the bed next to Katara and their son. "But I don't know… are you now accusing him – the victim – of planning something?"

"I am not sure," said Katara, gently pulling Kaemon off her breast and handing him to Zuko so she could refasten her robe. "All I am saying is that Polar Beardogs are very loyal and territorial. They protect what is theirs, and in some extent, were all, all of us, all this family, is Snowball's. And this man, this servant – we know technically nothing about him. He could be, I don't know…" She sighed, then turned to him. "Who do you trust more? Somebody, who is even though not human, but has been part of this family for months, and has never caused any problems, or a man, about whom we know nothing about?"

"So you are saying that I should ask after this man?" He asked, covering his shoulder with a cloth and lying Kaemon against it, patting his back gently.

"First thing in the morning, before you do anything else. Especially before having Snowball put on a ship." And with that she climbed under the covers, lay on her side, and put out the lamp on her bedside table.

Zuko considered this, still cradling his son. The past years spent with Katara had taught him one thing if nothing else – he should always listen to his wife's advices. They had never failed him before.

He stood up a few moments later, brought Kaemon to his nursery, setting him in his crib, then went back to the main bedroom, lay down beside his wife and embraced her from behind, kissing her neck.

"Thank you for being here for me," he whispered into her hair.

Katara's hand found his on her waist, and gently squeezed it.

"You are welcome."

Zuko couldn't sleep that night. He had never been one to fall asleep easily, but then lying amongst the silken sheets, listening to the noises of the night, something prevented him from going to sleep entirely.

He held Katara close, hearing her soft breaths and feeling the gentle thud-thud of her heart. Usually, even on his worst nights, it was enough to put him to sleep, but not then. The recent happenings kept him thinking – had he really jumped to wrong the conclusion too fast? He had already convinced himself to do exactly what Katara had told him – he was going to investigate that man; find out about his past, about when and how he got into the palace. When he knew everything about him, only then would he decide about Snowball.

Minutes ticked by, and despite his relative calmness of mind, sleep still wouldn't come to Zuko. He was just about to get up and make himself a cup of uncle Iroh's soothing tea when he heard it - a very soft noise, so soft that he could barely hear it, but still, it was there. He could hear footsteps from outside the room.

Somebody was on the corridor.

His body tensed for a moment – it was too late for a servant to be around, and he had given strict orders to the armed guards no to set a foot inside the family wing unless it was absolutely necessary -, but then he stayed still for a few moments, listening intently, and soon his fear turned into slight annoyance.

He could hear two distinct set of footsteps from the corridor: one light and almost soundless, the other much heavier and having a completely different rhythm, with something clicking upon connecting with the tiles of corridor. Just like a bare-footed child and an oversized dog, with her claws ticking on the floor. It wasn't hard to put the two and two together – the children wasn't at all happy about not having Snowball sleep with them that night, they had even voiced it, and if one wanted to get to the shed where Zuko had closed the dog up, they had to pass the door of his and Katara's suite. A few moments later the sound of a great vase being topped over and the scared whine of a dog gave them away completely.

Zuko sighed and, untangling his arms from around Katara carefully, not to wake her up, he got out of the bed. Walked to the great double doors of the suite and peeked out – he was not at all surprised to find Lya and Snowball a few steps down the corridor – his daughter without her slippers, her dressing gown pulled over her nightgown sloppily, the silk belt around Snowball's neck, functioning as a makeshift leash. Hearing the door creak Lya stopped in her tracks, looking back over her shoulder somewhat horrified.

Zuko knew that he should have been angry at her for disobeying him, for bringing Snowball back inside when he had told them not to, because she was – probably – dangerous, but he found himself not being able to. His daughter – standing there, with her blue eyes big and round, her soft pink dressing gown slipping down from one shoulder, her hair wild and tangled, her small frame dwarfed by the much larger dog next to her – was simply way too cute to be mad at.

"Fancy to see you around, Lya," he told her, leaning against the doorframe, lighting a small flame in his palm. He watched Snowball from the corner of his eyes; the dog, almost as if she felt that this conversation would last quite long, lay down on the floor and yawned.

"Hi, daddy," Lya said in a small voice, her gaze fixed at the tiles. When Zuko didn't say anything for a few moments, she realized that it was still her turn to talk, to explain what she was doing out of her bed in the middle of the night. "Daddy, I just couldn't let her sleep there all alone. It's a scary dark place, and she was scared, daddy. And she would never, ever hurt me, I know. Mommy told you that, too. Snowball loves us." To put emphasis on her words, she took a step towards the great animal, and hugged her neck. "She loves you too, daddy, even when you are mean to her."

Zuko didn't want to act like he wasn't touched by her words – such a little girl, and she already had a heart rivaling her mother's in size -, but he didn't have a chance to tell Lya that because, for the second time that night, Snowball surprised them.

One moment she was completely still, and in the next her head shot up, her ears perked, she growled, and before either Zuko or Lya could have done anything to stop her, she jumped up, tore the belt-turned-leash from Lya's hand and sprinted down the corridor towards the children's rooms, barking angrily all the way, waking the whole palace without doubt.

There was a split of a second when Zuko just stood there motionless, but then his experience earned during his years hunting the Avatar and being in the frontlines kicked in.

"Lya, go inside, and tell your mother not to follow me until I come for her," as soon as the words left his mouth he knew it was useless to say that; Katara would still do what she wanted to, but at least Lya would be surely safe in their room. "I'll follow her and see what's going on." And with that he was already running.

He hardly took a few steps, he could already hear the sounds of the fight – a man's deep groans and the dog's fierce growls and barks. A few moments later he ran past the children's rooms, following their voices and as he rounded the corner, he could even see them.

He instantly recognized the same servant Snowball had attacked only a few hours earlier, only now he was wielding a dagger as long as Zuko's forearm, and no doubt as sharp as Katara's ice spikes. Snowball was going at him, trying to catch his arm, his neck, his anything, but the man was dodging her attacks almost effortlessly. Zuko wanted to cut in and end the fight, but he couldn't – there was no opening he couldn't have used and he was afraid that bending fire around them would only cause more harm than good – with the fast pace they were moving in the relatively narrow corridor, Zuko could have hit Snowball instead of the man with the dagger.

The man was trying to get past Snowball, but the dog jumped at him again. He dodged and moved to the side again, lashing out with the dagger, trying to stab Snowball, getting past her. They were evenly matched, it was clear immediately.

Zuko tried to intervene the fight, but Snowball was in his way; in the confined space he couldn't use his bending, not with so many flammable things in his way, so it meant that he had to sidestep Snowball somehow, getting behind the man so he could get a hold of him. Zuko had no doubt that once the man was within his reach he would have no problem disarming him.

Zuko was just about to get past Snowball – everything was happening so fast, with his heart drumming in his ears; no more than a few seconds could have passed since he had reached them – when the attacker suddenly saw an opening and used it. He stabbed with the dagger, and before Zuko could have stopped him, the blade was already deep inside Snowball's chest.

The dog whined in pain and staggered backwards as the man withdrew the blade, but didn't give up; she was just about to attack again, uneasy on her feet, deep red blood looking almost black in the dimness flowing from her side, but Zuko was faster. He leaped in front of the man – while seeing from the corner of his eye the dog fall, sprawling on the floor -, and grabbed the dagger with one hand, not caring about the blade cutting his palm open, not even feeling the pain. It took him less than a second to heat up the iron so much that it burned the attacker's hand even through the leather wrapped around the hilt. Both of them let go of the weapon, Zuko soundlessly, only then registering his bleeding hand, the other screaming, blisters already forming on his palm. The dragger fell to the floor, connecting with the tiles with a loud crash.

The man didn't hesitate – his injured hand forgotten he went for the weapon, but Zuko was faster than him; he kicked the man's knee, while his hand collided with his nose. He felt it crack under his knuckles. What surprised him was that the attacker didn't stagger back; instead he moved, hitting Zuko's stomach with such a force the Fire Lord wouldn't have guessed he had. Zuko took an involuntary step back, and this gave just enough time for the attacker to go for the dagger again.

He never reached it.

He suddenly stopped in mid-movement, his eyes going wide, his fingers twitching, before his whole body jerked, pulling him upright, his arms in and his knees together. His mouth opened, like he was about to scream, but no voice came out of it. He sucked in a sudden breath, his eyes turned, his eyelids almost closing, then in the next moment he went limp, falling to the ground ungracefully.

Zuko looked behind his back, and saw Katara there, a good ten steps from them, standing in bending stance, her hands outstretched. The corners of Zuko's mouth twitched in spite of the situation.

Out of every night he could have chosen to attack, this man simple had had to pick one with the full moon shining on the night sky.

Katara trembled slightly as she swiped away a stray lock from her eyes – using her bloodbending had always taken its toll on her.

"He's alive," she said, more to calm her own nerves than to reassure Zuko, "just unconscious." Her eyes only then wandered to Zuko's hands. "Sprits, you are bleeding!" With that she rushed to him, eager to attend to his wound, but he hushed her concerns away.

"It's nothing, really," he said, looking at his own hand; there was a cut on his palm, and a little shallower one along the second digits of his fingers. They were deep and bleeding heavily, but clean; they could wait. Snowball could not. "Take a look at her instead." He nodded towards the dog lying a few feet from them as he tore a strip from his sleeping shirt, wrapping the fabric around his bleeding hand.

Snowball looked terrible, sprawled on her uninjured side, her white fur red and pink from her blood, the crimson liquid pooling around her, her breaths shallow, her eyes pained.

"Oh, Tui and La…" Katara sighed, kneeling down next to the dog. "You poor little thing…"

"Can you do anything for her?" Zuko asked, his voice void of hope; she looked pretty bad.

"I hope so. It's bad, but I have treated worse wounds," she leaned closer, inspecting the wound. "If only there wasn't so much blood…"

Before he could have stopped himself, Zuko found himself gently petting Snowball's soft head, calming, reassuring the dog.

"Where are the children?" he kept his voice low, afraid to talk too loud.

"I told Lya to wait for me in the bedroom – and what a surprise, she obeyed. Kizo wanted to come out of their rooms just after you had sprinted down the corridor; I told him to stay inside, take care of his sister and don't come out until either of us comes for him and Bin-bin. It's better if they stay inside for a little longer. They don't have to see it." She turned to Snowball again, caressing her fur where it was marred with blood. "You are a real hero, Snowball," she told her softly, then turned to Zuko again. "I can halt a bleeding for a time, but I'll need water to heal the wound. And he" she jerked her head towards the attacker's limp form lying on the floor," is going to wake soon. We should have something done with him"

Zuko nodded at her words.

"I'll get you water and have some guards drag him away. I'll back soon," despite the situation he leaned in and pecked her cheek.

Just as he left the corridor leading to the family wing he met up with two guards, coming towards him in a rush.

"We have heard commotion around you quarters, my Lord," said the higher ranking soldier, bowing to him. "Is everything alright, my Lord?"

He wanted to scream.

"It is, now," he couldn't help the mirth in his voice. Of course, the guards had to turn up when the fight was already over. This made him question why he was employing them. "Go in; you'll find an unconscious man lying on the floor not far from the door. Take him to the interrogation room. There's no need to be gentle with him. I'll join you shortly."

And with that he left them there, off to fetch some water for his wife.

It was almost an hour later when he got back to the family wing after interrogating their attacker. Once conscious, he was eager to talk – and what he had to say quite shocked Zuko.

He was accustomed to assassins appearing from time to time – even thought there hadn't been an attempt in nearly two years -, but this time the target wasn't him.

It was Kizo, and possibly his other children as well.

When questioned, the man raged. He was yelling, shouting, finally loosing his calm composure. He kept cursing at Zuko, the government, Ozai, the royal family, the Fire Nation itself… But it was easy to pick up what his real problem was.

He hadn't fought in the hundred your old war – but his firstborn son had. And he had died in combat. It wasn't even some great battle he had lost his life in – on the contrary, it was some minor military movement, under a small Earth Kingdom town. He wasn't even listed as a war hero, only just as a casualty. This was what pained the man – the loss of his son and the fact that his death seemed to be in vain. And that was why he had decided to take revenge.

It didn't matter to him that technically his son's death wasn't Zuko's fault – he was nowhere near the throne when it had happened; judging from the man's words, it happened during the time when he had been hiding in Ba Sing Se -, but it didn't matter to the attacker. In his eyes only the Fire Lord could have been held responsible, without consideration to his person. He had to suffer. He had to loose his firstborn just like that man had.

He had been planning this for years, the idea forming slowly in his head. Up until a few months ago he had been living in one of the outer islands, running a small shop. Then he had sold it, come to the capitol, and asked for a job in the palace. He had had fake documents, claiming that before that he had been working for the governor of his home island; no-one had bothered to check this fact, just employed him simply.

In the months while he had been working in the palace, he was nothing but the picture of obedience and diligent work. It hadn't taken him long to be placed into the family wing – which meant that his time had come.

His first attempt on the crown prince's life had happened that evening – there hadn't been only water in that broken jug he had brought into the children's room - there had been poison in it, too. Slowly, painfully killing poison, which once consumed, would have had killed Zuko's children by the time morning came. He and Katara would never have found out what had happened to them.

And that's why Snowball had attacked him, knocking the jug to the ground, sinking her teeth into the man's arm – she had smelled the poison, and knew from the very start what the desperate man had wanted to do. And that's why she had dashed upon first hearing his footsteps when Lya had brought her back to the palace.

All time along, when Zuko thought that Snowball was dangerous and wanted to get rid of her, she was protecting her family. Their family.

The corridor had been cleaned by some poor servant girls woken up in the middle of the night – the pieces of the broken vases collected, the floor moped, all traces of blood gone. Like nothing had happened.

Katara and the children – all of them, even Kaemon in his little bassinet - were back in the kids' anteroom, just like the evening before, only now they were huddled together on the floor, sitting on thick blankets, surrounding the still, seemingly asleep Snowball in deep silence. Bin-bin was sitting between her legs, leaning into her side; Lya was behind Snowball, hugging her neck, her face buried in her fur; Kizo was lying by the dog's head, his hand on the her forehead; all three of them were deeply asleep. Katara was seated next to Lya, one hand on the girl's shoulder, the other on the dog's side, no doubt feeling her heartbeat.

Zuko sat down next to his wife, looking at his dozing children – they had been pulled from their beds in the middle of the night after all -, his gaze finally resting on the mass of white fur next to him. He couldn't see the wound anymore, only a small bald patch where it used to be, but even thought it was clear that Katara had tried to wash her blood away, Snowball's fur was still tinted pink in some places.

"How is she?" Zuko whispered with a lump in his throat, his hand tentatively reaching out to pet the dog's slowly rising and falling flank. He half hoped that the children were sleeping deep enough not to wake upon hearing his voice; if there were bad news, he didn't want them to hear them.

"She is going to live," Katara turned to him, a soft smile playing on her lips. "The wound was bad, but I got to her in time. And it being a full moon wasn't a bad thing either." She moved her hand, covering Zuko's with it. "She's just woozy because of the blood loss; she'll be alright in a few days," she said, leaning against Zuko's side. "And anyway, I think she looks worse than she really is," she chuckled a little, "I guess she is just enjoying all the extra attention she is getting." She gestured at the children snuggled close to Snowball sleeping peacefully. She leaned in and kissed Zuko sweetly on the lips. "Is it over?" She asked then quietly, just as unsure as Zuko had asked about Snowball's health.

"Yes," he sighed, drawing her closer. "It's over. The attacker is going to be dealt with." He didn't want to tell her more about it, not then. He knew that she would eventually get every single little detail from him, but he didn't want to stress her with the attacker's intentions, not then. "You don't have to worry about him. We are safe, thanks to this big, fluffy monster," he said, tucking Katara's head under his chin, while patting Snowball's soft flank. The movement woke the dog, who raised her head slowly, looking at Zuko almost expectantly, wriggling her tail lazily.

The movement made Kizo stir. The little boy slowly opened his eyes, blinking sleepily as looked up at his parents.

"Daddy?"

"I am here, kiddo," Zuko answered, ruffling his son's hair.

Kizo looked much more alert in an instant, and reaching over, he shook his sisters awake as well.

"Kizo, why-" Katara started, ready to scold her son, but she never got a chance to finish it.

"Dad," Kizo started all seriously, stealing a glance at his sisters, perfectly mimicking Zuko's tone when he was dealing with serious matters, even crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Lya, Bin-bin and I have been talking, and we have decided that you owe an apology to Snowball."

"What…?" Zuko asked, trying to suppress his laugh.

"Yes, daddy," Lya chimed in, while Bin-bin was nodding vigorously. "Ever since she got here, you were nothing but mean to her," she pouted.

"Yes, daddy, you are really, really mean," Bin-bin added.

"And, as it turned out, you were completely wrong about her, too," Kizo took over the role of the advocate again. "And when you are mean and wrong, you have to apologize, right, mum?"

Katara nodded solemnly, the corners of her lips turning into a smirk.

"Yes, Zuko, your son is completely right. So, go on," she urged him playfully, "we are listening."

Zuko smiled to himself, casting his gaze down, avoiding the gazes of his family.

"Alright," he said at last, turning to the dog. "You got me. Snowball, I am… I am really sorry. That's it. I apologized."

"Daddy," Bin-bin almost whined, "That didn't sound very sincere," she even wriggled her finger at him as if she was scolding him. He heard Katara chuckle beside him.

"Okay, you win," Zuko sighed, then putting his hands together, he mock-bowed to Snowball. "I am truly sorry for not treating you the way you deserved, oh, you great dog..." He felt a gentle tug at the sleeves of his sleeping robe; he looked down, and saw Bin-bin at his elbow.

"She is a Polar Beardog, daddy," she whispered to him.

"Oh, you are right," he whispered back, "So, you great Polar Beardog. I hope I am worthy of your forgiveness."

Just as he finished his sentence, Snowball raised her head higher and licked his face, from his chin up to his temple, covering it with her saliva. All his children and his wife started to laugh as Zuko, a little bit disgusted, wiped his face.

"Great," he mumbled as Snowball lay back down, her tail still wiggling happily.

"Now," Katara said suddenly, clapping her hands together. "It's time for bed, little ones, now come on, your beds are waiting for you!"

"Mummy?" Lya looked up at her, pleadingly. "Can Snowball sleep with us tonight?"

"Well, can she, Zuko?" Katara turned to him, waiting for him to answer. He sighed audibly. It was a lost battle.

"Alright, but only tonight. Do you hear me? Tomorrow she is back at the courtyard!" he told them sternly, but as soon as he said the words he knew that with this permission he had signed Snowball's pass to spend the rest of her nights in his children's rooms…

The most surprising thing in it was that he didn't regret it at all. At least ths way he knew that his family was safe.

A/N: The funny thing is that even thought I am a cat person, it's the second story I've written about dogs or at least dog-like creatures :D