A/N - Welp, after a long, long, long hiatus from ATLA fic I am back. Honestly, this story has been rolling around in my head for a while now (years really) and I only just recently buckled down enough to write it.

Simply put, this is the prequel to my story Tales of Republic City. It follows Aang and Katara from newlyweds right up until Tenzin's conception, a span of about 11 years give or take. It does not follow canon but instead follows the universe I created in ToRC which means that a lot of stuff will be switched around from LoK. This story will be written in the same style and will flow into ToRC as if it had always been a part of it. I want it to be a seamless transition from one story to the next. That being said, however, you absolutely do not have to read ToRC before reading this.

Anyway, here we go and to anyone still reading my work in 2019 I hope you enjoy. It's good to be back.

Discoveries

Aang was unceremoniously awakened to Momo's frenetic chittering directly in his ear. With a heavy grunt, he shooed the neurotic lemur away and simultaneously snuggled closer to his wife, burrowing his face deeper into her tangled mane of hair. His plan was to fall back to sleep immediately. His plan, unfortunately, was doomed to failure. Momo, filled with righteous indignation, refused to be deterred. He tapped his tiny paws against his master's head and cheeks in emphatic protest.

"Ugh! Go away, Momo!" Aang growled, "It's too early for this!"

It was true. Even the sun had yet to present itself fully over the horizon. The hazy hue of dawn was only now beginning to peek over the craggy mountain tops and spill through his open window. For the most part, the interior of his bedroom was still relatively cloaked in murky darkness.

Still, despite his grumpy protest, there were parts of Aang that were definitely beginning to awaken. Now that he was beginning to regain some cognizance of his surroundings, it was impossible to ignore the warmth of Katara's nude body pressed into the crook of his own or the softness of her breast beneath his hand. He rolled his hips lightly against her backside in unconscious, unfurling desire. Katara emitted a lethargic snuffle at the sensation, eyes still closed, her lips curving in a drowsy smile.

"But not too early for that apparently," she reasoned aloud in a sleep roughened tone.

Aang laughed softly into her hair, concealing his answering blush as he did so. "Well, technically we are still newlyweds, so…" He started to nudge her onto her back when the obvious intention of kissing her thoroughly when Momo abruptly scampered onto his shoulder and began knocking against him and chittering anew.

"Gah!" Aang cried, gently swatting him away with an annoyed scowl, "What's gotten into you today?"

Clearly affronted with Aang for some yet as unknown reason, Momo scuttled onto Katara's torso in a bid for refuge and loving cuddles which she gladly obliged. The action prompted Aang's disgruntled grumble which in turn prompted Katara to stifle her resounding laugh against his shoulder. "Aww, Aang, have a heart. I think that Momo has finally had his fill of our shenanigans."

"Our shenanigans?" he balked. He directed his insulted grimace towards the lemur, who was now curled atop of Katara demurely, his luminous green eyes wide with innocence. "Really? We're the ones pulling shenanigans? I'm not the one who woke him up at the crack of dawn!"

"I think he's hungry, Aang," Katara reasoned mildly as she reached out to give the lemur's ears an affectionate scratch, "He didn't eat last night, remember? You know we throw off his feeding schedule when we laze around in bed all night and day."

"But it's barely dawn," Aang protested with a pout, "Besides, I like lazing around in bed…"

They had been married for two months, two days and approximately six hours. Sixty two delightful, exhilarating, romantic days filled with marital bliss and the euphoria that magnificent truth brought with it was nowhere near fading. Aang and Katara were still very early in the honeymoon stage of their marriage despite having actually been in a relationship with one another for the better part of six years. Marriage, however, had brought an entirely new dynamic to that relationship.

No longer were they sidled with constant traveling companions or forced to sleep in different beds at night. They were free from Sokka's inherent grumbling if they dared to share a tent while camping out. Gone was the awkwardness that was often caused by those romantically interested in either Aang or Katara due to what the outside world viewed as the "ambiguous" nature of their relationship. Now everyone in the world knew for certain that the Avatar belonged irrevocably to Katara of the Southern Water Tribe and that was that.

Consequently, the two found themselves so wrapped up in one another soon after making their vows that very little outside of their idealistic cocoon mattered or even registered. But while Aang and Katara had spend a good portion of their time as newlyweds exploring the sacred grounds of the Southern Air Temple, frolicking in the pristine, mountain streams that encircled the temple's parameter and generally occupying themselves with "getting to know" one another better in the most carnal sense of the phrase, it hadn't been all play and no work for them by any means. The hundred year war might have ended but the world was still a long way off from being completely healed.

Aang's constant duties as Avatar and protector of the three remaining nations could not be put on hold, even for a new marriage. As a result, he and Katara often spent weeks away from the temple, entangled in settling one crisis after another in various parts of the world. During those sometimes seemingly endless stretches of political unrest and dissonance, the young couple weren't afforded much time for romance. They were much too busy serving as mediators, quelling the occasional insurrections between Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom factions and helping to rebuild the tattered remains of the countless townships and villages that had been left decimated in the war. Someone was always in need of Aang's help and Aang would always make himself available to answer the call. It was simply due to his duty as the Avatar either but his very nature as a person.

When he and Katara were finally able to carve out the time in order to return to the temple they couldn't get back to their secluded haven fast enough, spurred on by their all-encompassing and ever present need to be alone together. Once there, the young lovers would retreat to their own private world again which often involved them being confined to their bedroom for hours on end. It was little wonder that Momo (and quite possibly Appa too) were beginning to feel a bit neglected by the two.

Recognizing his lack of attentiveness and lulled into a measure of contrition because of it, Aang leveled Momo with a doleful look and rolled, albeit reluctantly, from the bed. "Okay, okay," he groused, "You win. But in my defense, I would have fed you…eventually."

Momo took the last of that halfhearted and somewhat dubious reassurance mostly in stride, seemingly satisfied with Aang's willingness to rise and dress. He chittered happily as Aang, after yawning and stretching and flexing away his morning muscle stiffness, pulled on his trousers. Katara, on the other hand, watched him dress with a rueful sigh before finally flipping back the covers to follow his lead.

"I guess I can help you," she volunteered, prompting Aang's surprised glance. He was sure that she would want to stay in bed a while longer and his expression said as much. Katara shrugged. "I might as well. There's no point staying here if you're not with me. Besides, I'm sure Appa is hungry too."

As they sluggishly went through the motions of their morning routine together, neither Aang nor Katara bothered with overdressing. With only the two of them occupying the temple grounds, save for a giant sky bison and an erratic rabbit-lemur, the need for propriety seemed a moot point. Aang spent most of his days shirtless and shoeless and sometimes in absolutely nothing at all while Katara was content to wrap herself up in one of Aang's discarded robes and little else. She did so presently, scooping up one brightly colored garment from the piles of clothing littering their bedroom floor before shrugging into it with practiced ease. Aang watched her actions with a faint, satisfied smile.

"What?" she asked self-consciously when she became aware of his avid perusal.

"Nothing," he replied with a widening smile, "I just like the way you look in my clothes. Then again, I like the way you look out of them too."

Katara ducked her head, her answering blush hidden behind a curtain of dark, unruly hair. "Ugh. Don't you ever think about anything else, airbender?"

"Not in the last year I haven't."

She favored him with an impish grin following that candid reply. "Yeah. Me neither."

Aang started to close the distance between them with the full intention of kissing her senseless because there was no way he could not kiss her after that admission but Momo suddenly leapt between them with a low hiss of warning. Aang stopped short, his mouth agape over the lemur's almost feral response. It was clear that Momo was not going to have his breakfast delayed any longer. He was prepared to do bodily harm if need be.

"Okay, okay," Aang laughed, throwing up his hands in a gesture of surrender, "Take it down a notch! I'm going. You're so fussy lately!"

They made their way down into the courtyard hand in hand with an impatient Momo scampering at their heels. It was clear upon their arrival that Appa too had been growing restless because he released a grateful bellow when he caught sight of them. Both Aang and Katara converged on his flanks to greet him with morning nuzzles.

"Good grief. What is with you two?" Aang grunted into Appa's fur affectionately, "I didn't eat dinner last night either and you don't see me falling apart."

Appa bellowed softly again. If it had been possible for a sky bison to give side-eye, Appa's would have clearly stated, "Well, I didn't have the distractions you did…"

Duly chastened by his bison's evident annoyance with him, Aang dutifully began gathering together food for Appa and Momo as well as for himself and Katara. Meanwhile, Katara busied herself with grooming both animals, who had unfortunately been thoroughly ignored in the two days since she and Aang had made their most recent return to the temple. As they went about their morning tasks, the young couple engaged in some idle chitchat and sporadic water fights, their progress slowed by those occasional bouts of flirtatious horseplay.

By the time Appa and Momo were finally diving into their breakfast with rumbling purrs of gratitude, Aang and Katara were once again exchanging nibbling kisses and hushed giggles in between feeding one another bites of fruit. Invariably, kissing led to more amorous pursuits and before long the young lovers were stumbling off together towards the nearby bison stables, leaving behind a woebegone Appa and Momo in their avid pursuit of morning lovemaking.

An hour later, they lay curled together in one of the empty stalls, cushioned by a bed of fragrant hay and languidly contemplating how they should spend the remainder of their day. Katara spooned against Aang, limp and exhausted, her limbs hopelessly tangled with his, her cheek pillowed against his chest. She smiled in sated contentment as the steady cadence of his heartbeat drummed rhythmically in her ear. If she could have frozen them together in that moment for all eternity Katara would have gladly done so because, right then, it all felt so painfully perfect.

"Are you happy, Aang?" she found herself asking after an moment of indolent silence had passed between them.

His satisfied chuckle rumbled against her cheek. "So happy." He popped open a single eye to peer down at her. "Are you?"

"This is the happiest I've ever been in my entire life," she confessed with a contented sigh.

The corners of Aang's mouth turned up in an impudent smile. "And I did that, huh?"

Katara rolled her eyes with a good-natured grunt. "Maybe you had a little to do with that," she teased.

"But just a little bit, right?"

"Teeny tiny. Miniscule even." She ruined the claim a split second later when she smiled up at him with adoring, blue eyes. "I can't believe you're actually my husband now," she sighed in wonderment.

Aang reached forward to brush a tendril of hair from her cheek, his expression equally adoring as he looked at her. "And I can't believe that you're my wife," he murmured, "I meant what I said before, Katara. You really do make me happy. I didn't know it was possible to be this happy."

"I'm glad," Katara said, favoring him with a loving smile, "I was worried about you."

"Worried about me? Why?"

"Because you were so sad when we first came. I know that being here is painful for you, Aang."

The reminder provoked a shuttered grimace from Aang. He well remembered the conflicting emotions he had felt upon their arrival at the Southern Air Temple more than two months prior. At first, when he had suggested to Katara shortly before their wedding ceremony that they spend their honeymoon at the temple he had been filled with unrestrained excitement at the prospect. The thought of returning to his cultural roots with Katara as his new bride had brought with it a wave of nostalgia and sentiment. He had been eager to share his history with her in a way he hadn't before. After all, what could be better than spending time with his new wife in the place that had been his boyhood home and that also held so many treasured memories for him?

But Aang hadn't anticipated the stark reality of being on the temple grounds again and truly absorbing the enormity of what had taken place there over 100 years ago. Mistakenly, he'd believed that he had come to terms with the loss of his nation before the war ended. Years prior he had given up his long secret hope that he would someday find other airbenders who might have survived the genocide. He wasn't under any illusions that the air temples would ever become the places of spiritual enlightenment and freedom that they had been in the past. He was sure that he had made his peace with the reality that the air nomads would never become a great nation again, at least not in his lifetime. He was fully convinced that he had accepted those realties and moved on from them.

When he proposed returning there to Katara he hadn't imagined that he would still grapple with any of those old feelings and disappointments. After all, those had been the naïve musings of a 12 year old boy. He was nineteen years old now, world weary, a fully realized Avatar and a husband. He no longer clung to the futility of those foolish notions. He no longer rested any hope in them…or so he thought. And he had been wrong. Very wrong.

Aang hadn't prepared himself for the aching emptiness he would initially feel upon returning to the long vacant temple. He hadn't been prepared for how much he would miss his people or how acute that loss would feel to him even after so many years… While in many ways his boyhood home didn't fit the picture of abandonment any longer due to its distinct lack of dilapidation, strangely well-kept grounds, crystal clear streams and blooming wild flowers and greenery, the ghosts of his extinct race continued to echo eerily throughout the deserted halls.

Rather than being buoyed by the memories of Gyatso and airball in the courtyard and the unparalleled freedom of gliding through the open skies on twirling currents of air, Aang had felt bereft and alone, even more so than he had when he first learned the grim truth that he was the last living airbender. The night of their arrival, rather than making wild, unrestrained love to his new wife as had been his original plan, Aang had curled himself into her comforting embrace and had wept like a child instead. He had spent much of their first day there moody and withdrawn until Katara, at last, reminded him of all the reasons he had to smile. He had been determined not to focus on those negative emotions ever since. Still, it hadn't been the most auspicious start to their honeymoon.

The recollection of that miserable night caused Aang to cringe inwardly. He averted his eyes from Katara with a mortified frown. "I'm so sorry about that, Katara. That's not how I wanted our first night as husband and wife to go. I never meant to fall apart on you like that."

Katara cupped his cheek, silently cajoling him to meet her eyes once more. "Why are you apologizing, Aang?" she whispered, "I understood. It's okay to miss your people."

"But I don't want to focus on the things I've lost," he whispered back, "Not when I've gained so much and I have so much to be thankful for. I don't have any right to feel sorry for myself."

"Aang, that's not true. You lost your entire race. You have more right than anyone…"

"Actually, I don't," he protested softly, "Because the truth is, if I hadn't lost my people then I would have never found you and I…I can't be sorry for that. I love you, Katara. I love you more than anything."

A lump of emotion formed in Katara's throat at his earnest reply. As a result, her words were hoarse with unshed tears when she whispered back, "I love you too, Aang. I always will."

Aang didn't realize that they both had fallen asleep soon after that until he was abruptly jostled into wakefulness by Appa's agitated baying. As he gradually transitioned from sleepy confusion to alertness, Aang also became aware of the sound of unfamiliar voices reverberating from the courtyard as well. They weren't shouting or threatening at all. Rather, they had an almost gentle, soothing quality in their tone. Still, there was no denying that soothing or not, whoever was speaking didn't belong there.

Alarmed, Aang swung upright, his sudden shift in position startling Katara awake as well. "Hmm…what's wrong?" she mumbled sleepily.

He was already reaching for his trousers when he answered, "Something's up with Appa. I think someone's here."

That statement was enough to snap Katara wide awake and she was quickly reaching for her own clothing as well. It wasn't often that people visited the air temple. In fact, outside of Aang, herself, their immediate family and the firebenders who had decimated its residents more than 100 years prior, no one ever really came there. Even the messages Aang received pertaining to his Avatar duties had been received by messenger hawk. That was mainly because the temple was situated so remotely in the mountains that journeying there on foot was often an arduous and perilous trek. If one didn't possess a sky bison (and besides Aang no one else in the world did), own a formidable Fire Nation tank or pride themselves as a skilled earthbender, they would essentially be risking life and limb to travel there…which made the prospect of unexpected visitors seem a bit strange and…unsettling.

Instantly on alert and tensed for battle, Aang and Katara quietly crept from the stables and stealthily made their way back towards the courtyard, covertly scooping up staff and waterskins along the way. As they did so, the muffled voices they had heard earlier began to grow more distinct. Aang turned to Katara and pressed his index finger to his lips in a warning for silence as they both strained to hear the words being spoken.

"…calm down, my friend. We would never hurt such a magnificent beast!"

"…in all my days I never thought I would see this beautiful animal in person!"

"…try not to crowd him so. Give him a chance to come to you."

"…look at his markings. They're exactly like the tattoos the monks had!"

"…this is the Avatar's bison. I'm sure he and his new wife must be here."

At that point, Aang had heard enough and stepped out into the open to reveal himself. His intent was to demand how these strangers had come to be there and what they wanted but the words immediately lodged in his throat as he rounded the corner. He immediately stopped short, astonished by what he found.

He was greeted by the sight of a small crowd of people gathered around Appa, ranging a span of ages from little child and middle-aged man. They were all dressed in brightly colored ceremonial robes and tunics with hues of orange, yellow and reds, their heads cleanly shaven, their faces bright with reverential awe and genial smiles. Some of the children were reaching out tentatively to run their smalls hands through Appa's fur with hushed "oohs" and "ahhs" while the adults spoke to the skittish bison in lulling, kind tones. To Aang's stunned disbelief, Appa actually began to calm under their ministrations, evidently willing to extend his trust to them without further merit. Aang was only vaguely aware of Katara drawing in an astonished gasp behind him, left as speechless by the sight as he was.

In that split second, he didn't see a group of strangers but was instead greeted with a vision of his lost people. Aang was suddenly catapulted back in time to a bygone era that had heretofore only existed in his memories. He saw the courtyard once again filled with monks deep in meditation, heard the laughter echoing throughout the cloudless skies as children played on streams of wind overhead. For one breathtaking, amazing, incredible instant, he was home again…and it was glorious.

But then it was gone, fizzling into nothing like an extinguished candlewick.

These weren't his people. They might have been reminiscent of his long dead race due to their dress and shaved heads and gentle countenances but their distinct lack of airbender markings made it evident that they were not his people. Moreover, it was the glaring lack of bending spirit, the presence of being that all of Aang's race had exuded, that unmasked them.

Sadly, they weren't the descendants of some secret pocket of air nomads who had managed to escape Firelord Sozin's murderous wrath following the initial raids of the air temples. Although, that had been Aang's most immediate hope when he first saw them. But he easily acknowledged the absurdity in that hope. More likely they were a group of ordinary people, a community that clearly held an interest in emulating the lost air nomad culture. It was also equally clear to Aang that they possessed no real understanding of it. In essence, it was Yu Dao all over again.

Given that mounting evidence, there was no question that they didn't belong there. Sadly, just as quickly as excitement and hope had bloomed in Aang's heart, it died an equally swift and definitive death. It was that harsh return to reality that finally prompted him to speak and make his presence known.

"Who are you people?"

The question was little more than a hoarsened whisper and yet, despite his gruff tone, almost two dozen pairs of eyes swung around in his direction simultaneously. In that moment, it was as if the entire congregation of people had forgotten to breathe. They stared at Aang in rapt fascination and something else, something akin to…adulation. He and Katara stared right back, albeit self-consciously as they were both acutely aware of their half-dressed, rumpled state and the remnants of hay clinging to their clothing. But they might have well been bedecked in the most splendid finery imaginable if the crowd's reaction to their appearance was any indication.

No one spoke a word or even uttered a single sound for at least three full seconds though it felt like eons of time had passed in the interim. The resounding silence prompted Aang to pose his question again, this time with more forcefulness. Only then did a flurry of murmured activity break out among the small group.

Finally, a man, who looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, stumbled forth from the group, ushered forward unanimously by the throng. Based on his dress, it was easy to assume that he held some position of prominence amongst them, most particularly since they had obviously chosen him to serve as their spokesman. Like his comrades, his expression was filled with admiration, his brown eyes gentle and kind as he bowed reverentially before Aang.

"Avatar Aang, it is an honor to finally meet you. My name is Jampa," he explained, paused to gesture to the thunderstruck crowd standing behind him, "and these are the people of my village. We are your humble servants." As if lending their silent agreement to that declaration, the multitude of people behind him bowed to Aang in unison. "Welcome home."

Largely ignoring that modest offer of servitude as well as the welcome, however, Aang twirled his staff into a defensive stance and demanded with a gathering scowl, "Who are you? What are you doing here? Why are you dressed as you are?"

"We are the keepers of this temple. We mean you no harm, Avatar."

Aang drew himself upright with an indignant huff of breath following that statement. He bristled at the idea that any outsider should dare lay claim to a sacred Air Nation temple. "Excuse me? And who gave you that authority?"

Easily detecting the outrage in the Avatar's stiff tone, Jampa quickly attempted to diffuse the situation before the tension could escalate. "I meant no offense to you, Avatar Aang," he said in a mild tone, "When I said we are the 'keepers' of this temple, I meant only that we have dedicated ourselves to the task of restoring this place to its former glory. We have nothing but your best interests at heart."

Disarmed by his sincere tone, Aang gradually lowered his staff. Unfortunately, however, the man's explanation only confused him further. "I'm sorry…what are you talking about? You're dedicated to what?"

"Please allow me to explain…" Jampa entreated, "Seven years ago, when the world learned that the Avatar had returned, my people knew that we could not allow this place to lay desolate any longer. We needed to restore it, if not to honor the fallen air nomads then certainly out of deference for you…so that you could someday return to your home and airbenders would once again have a place to flourish."

Aang turned aside with a pained grimace following the man's candid reply, at a loss as to how he should feel or what he should say. Jampa seemed to sense the conflict within him. After a brief pause, he continued in his explanation, allowing Aang the time he needed to collect his thoughts.

"Ever since you returned we have made regular trips up this mountain to restore the temple," he went on, "Over the last six years we have cleared away the overgrowth, restored the gardens, buried the dead and made the repairs that we could. We have made it our life's work to make this temple what it once was. Surely you must have noticed…"

Aang had noticed. In fact, since the beginning of their honeymoon he and Katara had often discussed how well kept the temple seemed in spite of spending so many years desolated and empty. Truthfully, until recent weeks, Aang had simply chalked up the changes to the passage of time but hadn't really bothered to investigate further. After all, he had only paid sporadic visits to the temple in the years since the war ended and he never tended to stay for very long. As the years passed his visits became even more infrequent. Only recently had Aang begun to note the differences and wonder about them. It had never occurred to him that there might be someone, or in this case, some people behind them. Now that he knew the truth, however, Aang was finding it difficult to digest.

"I don't understand," he uttered with a bewildered shake of his head, "Why?"

"Because your people deserved better."

An acrid lump of emotion formed in Aang's throat at his reply. "But how did you even get here? Are there benders among you?"

Jampa shook his head sadly. "No. We have no benders. Not anymore."

At that point Katara, who had been sharing Aang's same internal struggle with these surprising revelations, finally found her voice. "But how did you make it up the mountain otherwise?" she burst out, "The journey had to be treacherous for you!"

"It can be," Jampa confirmed, "Sometimes it takes us as long as 8 days to make the journey here but we have done it many times now and have become quite skilled. Besides that, it is a worthwhile cause…an honorable one."

"But where did you even come from?" Aang wanted to know.

"My people live in the valley at the base of these mountains," he continued, "We have been there for nearly 100 years. After Sozin decimated the air temples and wiped out the air nomads many became afraid, terrified that they would become next in line for the Fire Nation's genocide.

"My grandfather took his family and fled from his township in the Earth kingdom to come here. This island, these mountains are the only home I've ever known. As a boy I was taught how sacred these mountains were, about the temple located on its highest peak and about the people who had once resided here."

"And who taught you?" Aang wondered aloud tremulously.

"My father taught me and my grandfather taught him."

Katara peered at him curiously. "So that's why you came here to restore the temple…because of the respect you have for Aang's people?"

"That is but one reason," Jampa told her, "We owe the Air Nation a debt of gratitude. This place had served as a haven for many. After the Fire Nation had finished their wanton destruction, there weren't many places for people to run. There were some who sought refuge in Ba Sing Se. Some who hoped to find shelter in the North Pole with the Northern Watertribe but, we came here and we have been protected ever since."

As she became aware of the fine trembling that was beginning to overtake Aang's body, Katara surreptitiously reached out to grab hold of his hand and gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze, sensing without a word that he needed some comfort right then. "So then you're Earth Kingdom refugees," she surmised softly.

"And Fire Nation too," a woman interjected softly from behind Jampa. She bowed to Aang and Katara deferentially when the young couple bounced their startled gazes in her direction. "Who are you?" they asked her in unison.

"This is Jinpa," Jampa explained, "She is my wife. I could have never conceived this project for the temple without her encouragement and support."

Aang regarded Jinpa speculatively, warily. "And you're Fire Nation?"

Jinpa smiled and inclined her head in a small nod. "That is my lineage…yes but our village is comprised of all nations. Anyone who wished to escape Sozin's tyranny was welcome among us. My grandfather happened to be one of those people. There were many in the Fire Nation who opposed Sozin's military strategy and but those who did so publicly were met with swift and brutal retribution. My grandfather wanted was peace. He was sickened by the genocide and he deeply mourned what became of your people."

Her earnest reply wrung a shuddering breath of consternation from Aang. "You said that your village was comprised of all nations," he pressed, his words edged with desperation, "Does that include the air nomads as well?"

The manner in which her eyes skittered away following his question filled Aang with conflicting feelings of hope and dread. He was desperate to know the answer and, at the same time, he didn't want to hear it at all. "There was a very small handful of monks who survived the initial attacks," she said after a tense beat of silence, "They were only children really. They hadn't even earned their tattoos yet…"

When she trailed off, obviously becoming too overwrought with emotion to continue the account her husband resumed the narrative in her place. "They had hidden in the trees and managed to evade the Fire Nation's destruction," he said, "My people took them in, gave them refuge and hid them from the Firelord so that they wouldn't be killed along with the others."

"Unfortunately, most left our village to search for other surviving airbenders," his wife interrupted softly, "They never returned to us."

Aang recoiled from the account, not wanting to believe it but at the same time knowing in his heart that they spoke the truth. Really, they were doing little more than lending veracity to what he had imagined for himself all of these years. Still, it was difficult to quash his reflexive need to deny, avoid and evade.

"How could you possibly know this? You weren't even born when Firelord Sozin began the war! How can I believe that any of this is true?"

"My grandfather told me the story," Jinpa replied, "They found five boys with no home and no people and they took them in and protected them."

"But they left in spite of that, didn't they?" Aang observed in an almost accusing tone.

"Because they were determined to find others who might have survived the raids like they did."

Katara squeezed Aang's hand once again when she felt him wilt against her. "You said that 'most' left your village," she quickly discerned, "Does that mean that there were some who stayed behind? Are…are there living airbenders among you?"

"No," Jampa answered sorrowfully, "The Avatar is, indeed, the last airbender. There was only one who stayed behind in our village but he died a long time ago."

At that point, Aang's limbs would no longer support him and he dropped to his knees, doubled over with the crippling, helpless grief that suddenly burned in his chest. It almost felt as if he were losing his people all over again. He was only vaguely aware of Katara wrapping her arms around his shoulders and murmuring sweet words of comfort against his cheek. He didn't even know he was crying until he tasted the salt of his tears at the corners of his mouth.

Aang felt as if he were housed inside a vacuum and the only thing he could process beyond the stiff rushing in his ears were the words; The Avatar is, indeed, the last airbender. He had known that and yet, for those few minutes, he had let himself hope otherwise. Now, once again, he found himself struggling with accepting that morbid truth.

"Is that why you came here?" Aang wheezed in a broken sob, "To tell me things that I already knew? To make me hope for something that I could never have?"

"It was never my intention to upset you, Avatar Aang," Jampa uttered sincerely, "The last thing any of us wanted was for you to be unhappy. Your happiness is our greatest priority."

"Just go," Aang ordered him woodenly. He flicked a fleeting glance around at the mostly silent and dumbfounded crowd. "All of you. Leave here! And don't come back. I don't want to see you again!"

"Aang!" Katara gasped. He whipped a startled look towards her when he detected the mild censure in her tone. "You don't mean that. What happened to the air nomads isn't their fault."

"I know it isn't. But they got to live while my people died and I don't want them here, Katara."

Afterwards, Aang resolutely wiped away his tears and rose unsteadily to his feet before definitively turning his back on them all. He did his utmost to blot their stricken faces from his mind as he walked away and left Katara to make mortified apologies on his behalf. Though he made quite a production of being preoccupied with Appa and Momo, Aang was painfully aware of every word being spoken, every regret being uttered, every mournful stare cast in his direction as the villagers took their leave one by one and began their hazardous descent down the mountain face. When the last of the footfalls finally died away Aang found himself tensing in anticipation of Katara's reprimand.

Sensing that she was about to lay into him and in no mood to deal with it, Aang cut her off before she could even begin her lecture. "I don't want to talk about it," he announced brusquely.

Katara plunked her hands onto her hips in challenge. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Yes, I do. And I don't want to hear it."

"Well, maybe you need to hear it," she countered quietly, "Sweetie, I get why you're upset but-,"

"—I said I don't want to talk about it!" he burst out sharply, only to soften his tone a millisecond later when Katara's brows snapped together in a warning scowl. "Please, Katara. Just drop it."

"Aang, you have to know you're not being fair to them," she reasoned in a mild tone.

"Why should I be fair? They were trespassing! I didn't invite them here!"

"Trespassing?" Katara snorted dubiously, "Really, Aang? Those people have been coming here for years to rebuild this temple! You've seen the results with your own eyes! The least you can do is show a little gratitude!"

"I didn't ask them to come here, Katara!" he fired back defensively.

"They did it for you!"

"So what? Now I owe them?"

Katara hunched her shoulders forward in defeat, the fight abruptly draining out of her. "Aang, this isn't you," she uttered, "You can't punish them because they lived and the air nomads didn't."

Aang didn't readily respond to the charge and that was mostly because he had no real defense against it. He couldn't deny the veracity of Katara's words because the accusation was true. He did blame them for living when his people had not. It galled him to know that this mountain had become a haven to Jampa and Jinpa's people only because his people had already been exterminated. Those villagers had been able to live because his people had died. How could he not blame them? How could he not be angry about that? And Katara's seeming inability to understand that fact made him inexplicably angry with her as well.

That was an altogether foreign emotion for Aang and, suddenly, he just needed to get out of there. "I'm going flying for a while," he announced abruptly, stooping to retrieve his glider, "I shouldn't be too long."

Katara gaped at him in dismay. "But we haven't finished talking yet!" she cried, "You can't just leave when we're in the middle of a discussion, Aang!"

"Well, maybe I don't want to have a discussion."

"That's not how it works, okay. We're married now. You can't just run away because you don't like what you hear. We have to settle this."

"It's settled," he replied, snapping open his glider, "I don't have anything else to say about it, Katara." He looked away when he saw hurt and disappointment swirling in the blue depths of her eyes. "I'll be back before nightfall," he promised, not bothering to wait for her reply before he bent out a jet of air and took to the skies.

Aang hadn't been gone a full five minutes before he was regretting his decision to take off. He could still see Katara's stricken expression in his mind's eye and it filled him with corrosive guilt. He hated hurting her but he also couldn't fathom how he could possibly verbalize the rage and confusion boiling inside of him right then. Perhaps it wasn't reasonable or fair or even warranted but Aang needed someone to blame. The Fire Nation soldiers who had been personally responsible for all of the deaths of the temple monks had been long dead themselves. But the people who had reaped the benefits from those countless deaths? They still lived…and they prospered.

Jampa and his people had formed a community on the very lands that had sealed the Air Nation's fate. Aang couldn't stop himself from asking, Why? Why had they gotten to live when his people had not? Even those who had survived the initial raids seemed to eventually meet with the same fate as their fallen comrades before them. And, if they hadn't, they would have been forced to live out the remainder of their existence denying the very essence of who they were. That would have been tantamount to spiritual death. It would have been a bleak existence either way. And perhaps that was the hardest truth for Aang to accept, the possibility that maybe his people had always been doomed from the start…

It was a gloomy prospect and one that made him even angrier when he thought about it. Little wonder that he was so desperate for someone to blame. Still, it wasn't as if Jampa's people had wished for the Air Nation genocide. They had been sickened by Sozin's actions right along with the rest of the world. They had sought out the temple in the hopes of attaining freedom and peace. Weren't those concepts the very foundation on which the air temples had been built? Could he really fault those villagers for seeking a better life or for wanting to form a connection to his extinct race because of it?

The more time Aang spent soaring amongst the clouds, the clearer his thoughts became. His anger lessened and was replaced with aching sadness instead. He knew he wasn't being fair to Katara or to Jampa and his people either. He couldn't punish them for surviving when his people hadn't, just like he couldn't punish himself. In the end, Aang knew nothing productive would come from bitterness over the past and he would only find himself stuck there and unable to enjoy his present.

Calmed by that realization and left in a much better head space to have an actual conversation about his feelings, Aang started to turn his glider on a course for home when he suddenly caught sight of Appa flying in the distance just ahead of him and abruptly changed course to meet him. He smiled to himself, not at all surprised that Katara had been unwilling to let him stew alone in his personal turmoil for too long. His wife was a stubborn soul and he loved fervently for it.

He was mentally making a list of all the ways he planned to make up for his jerkish behavior when he gradually realized that the bison flying ahead of him wasn't Appa after all. Aang drew in a sharp, astonished gasp, his glider bouncing precariously midair with the break in his concentration. His heart suddenly began to knock against his ribs with accelerated force, his limbs started to shake, so violently in fact that he even feared for his ability to keep the glider airborne. Somehow, he managed to do so by sheer will and, after a few minutes of course correction maneuvers, he brought himself up close against the bison's flank.

At first, the giant beast didn't acknowledge his presence at all, which afforded Aang with an opportunity to study him closely. He guided his glider smoothly around the animal's massive girth, taking careful note of every detail. Although the mysterious bison shared similar markings and builds with Appa, there was a subtle difference in their coloring and just the tiniest variation in snout shape. Were it not for those subtle differences, however, it might have taken Aang longer to realize the bison wasn't Appa.

Eventually, Aang's continuous darting grew tiresome for the bison and he released a low bellow of annoyance. Aang laughed. "I just want to know where you come from, boy. Are there others like you?"

Far from reacting skittishly to Aang's presence, the animal didn't seem particularly alarmed to have some heretofore unknown airbender flying along side him. It was as if the action were completely natural to him. In another lifetime, Aang supposed, it had been. But that had been 100 years ago and Aang was sure that no sky bison had seen another airbender in all that time.

Still, it seemed clear to him that the bison knew him, at least on some instinctive level, and seemed to trust him implicitly…almost in the same manner that Appa had trusted Jampa's people. That astounding realization was still beating around in Aang's mind when the bison inclined his massive head towards him in an almost welcoming nod before he bellowed and abruptly picked up speed, obviously indicating that Aang should follow him.

So, he did. Over the towering treetops, past the wide river valleys and higher and higher into the mountain where the air would have been much too thin for any other human to survive for long. But to an airbender…it was like returning home.

It seemed to Aang that they flew for hours in order to reach their destination and yet, when they did, he was wholly unprepared for what he discovered. For the second time that day, in the span of only a few hours, Aang found himself at a loss for words. There, hidden away in a large grotto, concealed by craggy cliffsides and sparse greenery was an entire community of sky bison and flying, ring-tailed lemurs. They littered the expanse of the clear, blue sky above, filling the afternoon air with the sounds of their chittering and low, mournful bellows.

Aang landed on a rocky platform high above the valley and stumbled forward at the sight, simply overcome as he took it all in with shaky, grateful breaths. It was only in that stunning moment that Aang realized that Jampa had been wrong. He wasn't the last airbender after all. The ancient sky bison had been the very first airbenders and they were clearly flourishing. Somehow, above all odds and despite them, they were flourishing. And right then Aang had no doubts that one day his own people would flourish again as well. He would never doubt that again.

He wasted very little time returning home, eager and anxious to share his incredible discovery with Katara, Appa and Momo. By the time he made it back to the temple dusk had already descended and Katara was in the process of making dinner. She flicked him with a cursory glance filled with aggravation when he landed.

"What happened? You said you would be back before dark," she said in a clipped tone.

"I was a jerk to you earlier," he blurted without reserve, "I'm sorry. You were right. I can't just walk out on the hard conversations. I know that. I'm working on it."

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth though she tried hard to bite it back as she stirred her pot of vegetables. "Old airbender habits die hard, huh?" she teased him softly.

"Yeah. I guess so."

Katara chanced another sideways glance at him, this one tempered with concern. "But do you feel better, at least?"

"I do actually."

"Good. Why don't you come sit down for dinner? It's almost done. You can tell me where you've been all this time."

She was surprised when, rather than accepting her invitation, Aang held out his hand to her instead. "I think it might be a better idea if I showed you."

~End~