Stepping into the warm gathering room in the Fire Nation palace was like stepping into one of Katara's old photo albums. She and Tenzin were welcomingly embraced by the men and women she'd grown up calling "aunt" and "uncle" and the once children she'd been brought up with as if they shared a common blood line. They enveloped her and Tenzin with too tight hugs, slaps on the back, and light kisses on the cheek. They were all here, together again, at last. Even her own mother had made it back from the Earth Kingdom, where Su was up to something or other. They'd made the right decision to keep their separation to themselves for the weekend, Lin would hate to disrupt this gathering. The last time they'd all been together was to bury Aang. Such a heavy, gloomy, time. But time went on, it always would. This was a happy occasion. Izumi had become the first of the second generation to bring about the third. When the news was first announced Lin had been intrigued, for Izumi spoke of her impending motherhood with the same sense of pride and purpose that saturated her words when discussing her inevitable lordship. What a feeling it must be, she had thought. It had made her feel more at ease with her an Tenzin's own attempts. Now all the excitement and joy in the room was as tangible as the little arrival himself. Lin tried to soak it all in, reflect it back to them, but it stung her as fiercely as if she'd stumbled into a swarm of fire wasps.

Izumi approached them, draped in beautiful red brocades, her dark wavy hair framing her glowing features.

She angled her arms so they could peer at the tiny face peeking out of crimson swaddling and Lin's fingers involuntarily tightened around Tenzin's.

"Lin, Tenzin, this is Iroh…"

For Lin it ended when seven months had passed and she still wasn't pregnant. She knew that she'd chosen the last hope of an entire race of people as her partner, but honestly, she'd always tried not to dwell on that. Children had never been something she actively desired. Lin had never known her father, her mother wasn't exactly a paragon of parenthood, and even though Lin was never in want of nurturing, being raised amongst a support structure welded together infallibly by the fires of war, she still didn't feel equipped to be a proper parent. However, pragmatically, she knew that as long as she loved Tenzin a day would come when it would be time.

She didn't decide to start trying necessarily. She preferred to think she simply stopped avoiding it. In the wake of Aang's death Tenzin must have noticed that she no longer took care to drink the tea that Katara had told her about so many years ago in the morning but he didn't comment. He just smiled that mischievous grin only she could pull out of him and seemed to kiss her extra long every time he laid eyes on her. Stolen, intimate, moments bled into the rest of their lives. Their nostalgic lack of self-control made them feel like they were teenagers again, headily tangling in an empty gazebo on Air Temple Island or breathlessly grappling in Lin's room when Toph was working late. It all felt so new and exhilarating, a sweeping spring air in a relationship that'd had its windows comfortably closed for years. But months passed and their reckless abandon summoned no such reckoning. Each cycle that came and went uninterrupted, left an even more bitter taste in Lin's mouth. She began to worry that something was wrong but had nowhere to turn. Tenzin had been her one true confidante since they were children and he wasn't worried.

"All good things take time," he'd whisper comfortingly before burying his face in her hair or moving his mouth against her throat.

But the Avatar's death had provoked widespread public speculation about Tenzin and Lin's personal lives already. Simply by virtue of being descendants of Avatar Aang and Toph Beifong they had learned about life under glass at an early age. But now it was as if the sun's powerful rays were being directed through that glass, burning them while spectators looked on with interest. How the scavengers would love to publicize her barren womb.

She tried to squelch her panic. It hadn't been that long, like Tenzin said these things took time. But she was Lin Beifong and when she made up her mind to do something, results were mandatory.

The seventh month brought the first whisper of promise. Lin made herself wait three full weeks before she rushed over to Katara's quarters as soon as Tenzin left for work on one bright spring day. The space was mostly empty at this point as Katara would be leaving for the Southern Water Tribe the following week and for the first time Lin let herself wonder if all went as she hoped, Katara would consider staying? Her own mother had left for the Earth Kingdom for good and she would prefer to have Katara with her through this anyway.

"Katara," Lin had called passing through the familiar rooms and halls. Even before she'd moved in with Tenzin, Air Temple Island had been her second home. She felt comfortable meandering about until she found Katara in her bedroom, appearing to be doing more reminiscing than packing. The older woman sat with an old family photo album in her hands and a wave of empathy poured over Lin for the legacy they were all a part of.

"Katara," she said softly, "I'm sorry to bother you—"

"Oh, don't worry I'm just…packing," Katara set the album aside and blinked the mistiness from her eyes, "Don't you have to work today?"

"Yes, I'm headed there after this but I needed to ask you something first."

"Lin, are you ok?" Katara's voice was laced with concern and Lin couldn't blame her. She was typically a very temperate woman but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't keep the excited impatience out of her voice. She wrung her hands, they hadn't been so sweaty since pubescence.

"Yeah I'm fine, I'm…I'm actually late… three weeks late," Lin added when Katara didn't immediately understand her words.

"Really?" Katara asked happily.

"Yeah," Lin replied trying to remain insouciant even though her hopes were soaring, "So I was wondering if you could—"

"Absolutely," Katara interrupted, "Here, why don't you lie down. Let me go get some water."

"Okay." In one fluid motion Lin bent the metal uniform away from her body and arranged it neatly in the corner of the room. This was it. She could tell. It would finally be over, all the anxiety of waiting for something to happen. Katara reappeared with a full basin as Lin pulled off her tunic and settled onto the bed.

"Does Tenzin know?" Katara asked, a glowing orb of water swirling between her hands.

"No, I'm hoping I can surprise him."

She could already picture what his face would look like when she told him. After all this time, he'd be so happy.

Katara moved her hands over Lin's abdomen, and Lin's muscles tensed in wake of the cool tickling sensation.

"Try to relax," Katara instructed and Lin nodded obediently as the matriarch focused her energy on finding the smallest beginnings of new life. A small crease formed between Katara's eyebrows, the smile dissolved away from the corners of her mouth. Lin watched these minuscule changes and her throat felt tight. There was only one reason for Katara to react that way.

"I'm not pregnant am I?"

Lin had to force the words out of her mouth but she wanted to spare Katara. Tenzin's mother didn't want to give her bad news anymore than she wanted to hear it.

"No, no Sweetie you're not." Katara answered bending the water that coated her hands back into its basin.

Why did Katara's words feel like shattering glass? She didn't care that much did she? She was doing this for Tenzin. She was doing this Tenzin, but she was the one who kept getting hurt.

"Figures," Lin muttered bitterly while sitting up and hastily pulling the tunic back over her head, "that just… figures."

"Don't worry. Just keep trying; it hasn't been that long."

"It's been seven months," Lin corrected bitingly.

"Stressing out about this won't do you any favors—"

"I have to go to work."

Lin cut Katara off and swiftly bent her uniform back into place. She couldn't help but blame herself, months were passing and she couldn't create what Tenzin wanted… what he needed. How long would it be before he started blaming her too?

"Maybe you should take the morning off. We can take a walk down to the docks and—"

"I'm fine. Thanks for seeing me Katara but I really have to go." Lin started for the door attempting to make her escape.

"Lin, it's okay to be sad."

It made her pause in the doorway. All she wanted to do was cry, let it out. Katara would stroke her hair the way she would a child's and maybe everything really would be all right. But instead Lin straightened her shoulders and carefully swallowed the pressure in her throat.

"I'm not," came her measured reply and with that she swept out of the room.