Chapter Text
It had been two weeks since she’d last seen him. Not so long since she’d last had news of him, of course. He always traveled with carrier hawks, and sent letters home almost every day. Not to mention the news of his deeds, which traveled even faster than the birds’ wings could carry them. Whenever he was gone Katara would spend her days like any other: tending to her garden, training, reading endless scrolls regarding issues the Republic City council was meant to address… The only difference is that through all of it her mind would wander to him.
Aang held the key to her heart, she’d known that since she was fourteen. Not only that, he held the key to her soul, and, especially now that they were married, her body. Katara’s whole being ached in her longing for him.
So it wasn’t surprising when her entire spirit felt like it did a somersault when she saw Appa in the distance.
“Aang!” She all but beamed at him, knowing he’d pick up her voice even from several feet up in the sky. Katara hadn’t felt like this in so long, but it was always Aang to coax it out of her: a feeling like her heart would jump out of her mouth, an exhilaration that made all her muscles tense up, her body’s attempt to release a happiness so all-consuming it would kill her if she kept it locked away.
“Katara!” His response was barely audible through the rush of wind he caused as he jumped out of Appa’s back and landed next to her with a gentle cushion. He had such great control over his bending that the whole ordeal did nothing but rustle her skirt.
Jumping on him was a routine by now. She would barrel into his chest and he’d receive her energy, unphased by her weight, picking her up so they could kiss more freely, twirling if he felt particularly romantic– which was almost always. Katara moaned into his mouth, unashamed. She hadn’t seen him in so long, and they were in their own backyard, for spirits’ sake. Avatar Aang might belong to the world, but he’s hers-
… Katara’s investigation of why she’d thought of his title at a time like this was cut short by Aang wrapping her thighs around his waist, rather than lowering her back to the ground. She keened at the feeling of her hips slotting against his lower stomach, and it took all of her strength not to dig her nails into his neck.
“I missed you so much–” He said, voice low and clearly loaded with something intense– not that she hadn’t been expecting it. To say it would kill her if the content of their most recent letters was ever revealed to anyone but the two of them would be an understatement.
“Aang–” She already felt like she could do nothing but moan out his name, her brain swimming in wistfulness.
“Can I take you inside, love?” Aang would kill her one of these days, she was sure of it.
“Mm– mmhm–” All her body would allow her to do was nod, even though she wanted to yell please and beg him to do it.
“You’re so– mm–” Whatever he meant to say was lost as he buried his face in her neck. He strengthened his hands around her, one on her back for balance and one under her thighs, practically sitting her on his forearm as he walked towards the house.
Katara could already feel her mind go fuzzy like it often did when they were intimate with each other. Aang’s touch felt electric and overwhelming, and this was an intensity she hardly ever experienced. At every point her body touched his she could feel his held-back strength, as well as the power of his bending. It was like he was always concerned, perpetually needing to control himself and repress his power in fear of hurting her–
And it was exhilarating.
The thought that he was so powerful it made her akin to a flower underfoot: beautiful, delicate, needy for attention lest it be destroyed by mere inattentiveness. It was not lost on Katara that she was the last woman anyone would ever think to enjoy such a feeling– but nevertheless it was the truth. Aang’s power captivated her hopelessly.
It was easy for her to unclip his cape, and even easier for him to undo her girdle and push her dress open. They reached the stairs as his hand slipped past the fabric, her breastwrap the only article of clothing intact from her waist up as his cold palm splayed against the warm skin of her back. Katara tugged pitifully at his robes, frustrated at how intricate they were, and how difficult to remove – a fact which made her moan again as she remembered how he’d used it to tease her months ago – If it wasn’t for my clothes being difficult you’d be pulling me out of them every second of the day, Katara… I have a monk’s reputation to uphold. She shivered at the memory.
As they reached their bedroom, Katara figured she’d try to get at least a semblance of control back. He placed her gently in bed, not ceasing to kiss her as he climbed over her– one knee dipping the mattress before she flipped their positions. She discarded her wrap dress to the floor beside them, straddling his thighs, pressing them together. And yet, no matter how much she wanted to take initiative, the sight of him undid her. His hungry eyes, his hips rolling against hers, his hands exploring everywhere, leaving trails of tingling sensation until it encompassed her whole body. It was too much. He was too much.
She picked up his hands, holding onto his wrists, and kissed each of his fingers– tears slipping past her eyelashes as she felt the power sizzling beneath his skin, the very power he used to keep the world safe with that unwavering sense of justice of his–
"Katara?"
His voice felt distant, and Katara didn't notice the slight concern in his tone, so preoccupied she was with her task. It felt vital. Necessary. As if the fate of the world relied on her as well, on her kissing his palms as if worshipping the very concept of him.
"Katara, love..."
Aang broke his left hand out of her hold and brought it to her cheek, his fingertips burying in her hair as she continued to revel in the warmth of his right. Love, the simple pet name he used for her, only made her feel even more intensely.
"Hey- hey, why are you crying?" He was so concerned now that even her stupor couldn't have made her ignore his tone.
"I don't know- I'm just happy. Too happy. I love you too much..."
"Katara..." She didn't see his face, but could feel the smile on his voice just the same.
She wondered just how much she could tell him. Spirits, she didn't even quite know why she felt like this. All she knew is part of it had to do with the fact Aang is the Avatar, and that alone was enough for her to hold back. Katara was fully aware of how Toph scoffed when she was called a Beifong, how Zuko hated to hear his title of Firelord slip past his friends' lips. Katara herself felt weird when she was called Councilwoman by people out on the street, or when she remembered that, technically, she was the sister to the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe... A position that felt much more serious now that they were accepted back into the fold of the world, rather than feeling like some pesky remnants the Fire Nation had graciously allowed to live.
Naturally, she knew that the title of Avatar had this effect on Aang, only tenfold. That some days, he was proud of it, of his role in saving and rebuilding the world. And that in other days, it pained him to even hear the word. He had all but banned it from their house. Instead of balance, it sounded to him like turmoil, like all the failures he had but those of which people never believed the Avatar, in all his might, would have been able to mess up. Of all that he'd lost, and all the years he'd spent suspended in time, all feeling and consciousness stolen from him.
... Katara realized now that she was still crying, and Aang was still worried. She needed to steel her mind, to banish away these thoughts, to gather herself for his sake.
And yet...
She could not stop thinking about it. The fact her husband is the Avatar. That the world stands because of him, her village prospers because of him, the four– or should she say three– nations live together in harmony once more because of him. And, her favorite, the fact that he stays humble, grounded, fun, human- through all of it. That he prioritizes her in everything he does. That he holds her in a pedestal in his mind, and refuses to take credit for anything she'd listed to herself, always, unfailingly always pointing out that their friends, that Katara – the name that slipped past his lips the most, in reverence – had made it all possible.
Her love for him felt overwhelming. And she could not deny that him being the Avatar... Was central to it. So much of what she loved about him was amplified either because or beside of his nature. She loved his personality which didn't seem to fit what you'd expect from the Avatar, yes, but she also loved the advantages he had because of it. His strength, his build... They had long concluded the Avatar spirit had a hand in that, considering Avatar Kyoshi had been taller than any woman to ever live. His bending, especially, made her melt. Each and every time he'd use it casually, softly... She would writhe inside herself. The gentle airbending to open their curtains when they lazed in bed in the mornings, the firebending to warm her tea, the earthbending to open furrows in her garden for seeds... The waterbending they shared... That was the death of her, especially. Any time they'd bend together... For no reason other than play and connection... When her water would encircle his body, and his would do the same... It felt spiritual. It was the greatest connection she'd ever felt to anyone, and it too was overwhelming. His power – greater than any other bender's, naturally – was something to behold. Something which amazed her the more they grew up together. The older he got, the more he learned, the more powerful his bending. Hers too, of course, but the scale of it was incomparable. She could feel it practically sparkling underneath her touch, flowing through his qi, something ancient. Unique to him and nobody else, of course, of course, naturally, she had to keep reminding herself, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to think he's the Avatar, of course he feels like this, get over it, because she couldn't simply get over it, she-
"Katara, baby, you need to tell me what's wrong." Spirits, his voice too-
"I can't."
"You can tell me anything. You know this."
"Not this-"
"I can feel there's something you want to tell me so badly... Please, Katara."
And then there were the "feelings" he got.
When they were children, he couldn't place what it was. But often, his instincts spoke, and everyone knew to follow. Aang knew now, though, that Avatars don't dream, they get messages. That sometimes, what he once felt might be a gut feeling is a past life whispering in his mind. The wisdom he had even as a child, thousands of years of learning cramped up in one body. Even that enticed her. The fact that he was never only here or there- he was a bridge. He was half human, half spirit, but also full human and full spirit. A soul shared between eras, and also his own person.
The mysteries that surrounded him intrigued her to no end, enthralled her mind.
He was a singularity. The world summarized in itself. Spirituality taken form, balance embodied. He enraptured her soul.
How could she ever hope to tell him all of this?
"It's... Too complicated. And maybe- u- upsetting? To you? I don't know..."
"You've never upset me in your life, I highly doubt that." He said, poking a bit of fun, that radiant smile plastered on his face as he worked on getting her cheeks dry.
"But how can you know tha-"
"I would much rather you tell me than not. Even if it's complicated, even if it's upsetting... I want to know."
"Curiousity killed the cat owl, you know?" Katara let out a wet chuckle, giving in -- as she always would -- to his relaxed disposition.
"I'm not a cat owl. Hit me."
"I just... I don't even know where to start-"
"Is it about me?" He asked with a cock of his head to the side.
"... It's about you too much." She reasoned.
"What does that even mean?"
"It's about all of you. All the- aspects of you. It's... It's about how much I love you-"
"You did say that..."
"But it's... I don't know! It feels- bigger."
"Okay..." Aang said, gentle, trying to understand. "Describe it to me."
"... Aang, when I touch you... I can feel your power. Like it's itching to come out and wrap around me and just- eat me up."
He said nothing, but the energy in the room shifted. Aang had that power as well. The feeling in the air in any given room seemed to follow his emotions. This time, it felt heavy and attentive. Like he was completely open to her, like his ears were primed to pick up even the smallest change in her breathing. He held her hands and listened.
"It's just- it has to do with you being the Avatar, but I don't want to bring that up, I don't want to make you think about that in our home in- in our bedroom, I-"
"Shh..." Katara never panicked. Her voice never picked up like this, fast and shrill. "Sit with me. Breathe." Aang guided her to practically meditate with him. "You can tell me whatever you need to tell me, doesn't matter if it's related to me being the Avatar. I'm okay with it."
For what felt like hours, she relayed to him what she felt. How proud she was that he was her husband, how happy he made her, how she loved his gentle nature.
How her soul could not help feeling overwhelmed by his, how she felt small beside him – in a good way –, how his bending made her heart soar... And how his body incensed her own.
With each of her words, she could feel the sizzle under his skin growing stronger. It felt like he would burst into flames at any moment- and the fact that he very well could made her heart feel even heavier.
"So– what you're saying is..."
"I love that you're powerful– and strong. And the best bender alive and it feels ridiculous for me of all people to say I feel so overwhelmed by my husband being stronger than me but it's true and I felt like I couldn't breathe until I admitted it an– MMMM–"
Aang might not have kissed her so passionately if he knew as intimately as she did that there was a non-zero chance her heart might actually burst from it. But he didn't know, and so here they were, Aang's hands tangled in her hair and waist as he kissed her with a force she'd never experienced before, their bodies crashing against one another like ocean waves upon a cliff edge.
It felt like he was melting around her– which was confusing, because she had melted for him the minute he landed in the backyard. Their souls felt like they were melding into each other, pooling in the push and pull of their bodies. Aang had spoken about this before, about how he felt so fiercely protective of Tui, the Moon, when he'd merged with La, the Ocean, to avenge Her... And how he felt the exact same way towards Katara. She vaguely remembered excusing herself to the bathroom shortly after he'd said it, hoping to hide her arousal at something so deeply spiritual and holy.
... She was beginning to understand that spiritual and physical weren't mutually exclusive, and that the ethereal nature of Aang's connection to the spirit world wasn't as chaste as she'd once thought.
“How do you think– that I feel?” He groaned into her skin.
“... What?” Katara felt as if her heart had stopped right then and there.
“Mm– I love that I have the means to protect you– Mm! That you’re– smaller than me… I’ve just never had the guts to admit it.
She would turn herself into ice and melt into a puddle if she could. “Re- really?”
“Yes– I didn’t think I could ever– Tell it to you I mean… You’re so independent and strong, I never want you to doubt that I love you for it.” He’d stopped kissing her for a while so he could answer properly. “I love all of you, I love when you’re headstrong, I love that you’re a better waterbender than me, that you’ve saved me more times than I can count. But I also love the idea of… This, of– Tui and La…” Katara shivered at the coincidence – or was it – of both of them thinking of the Moon and Ocean spirits at a moment like this. “Yin and yang. Feminine and masculine… As backwards as it sounds, there is… Some weight to it. Everyone has a certain amount of both in them. My energy is certainly more feminine than Zuko’s for example. Both are important for balance, but they are distinct.”
Katara supposed it would be bad to say she wanted to jump his bones even more now that he’d gone all spiritual leader on her.
“So– I– I guess what I’m trying to say is– It feels good to indulge…” Aang was suddenly embarrassed, undoubtedly thinking he’d gone too far with such a philosophy.
He probably wasn’t expecting her to kiss him even stronger than he had her, but nevertheless, her lips were on his.
“I want- to indulge too-”