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Snow blanketed the landscape like a never-ending canvas, bright and blinding beneath the southern sun. The Southern Water Tribe’s village, usually peaceful and sparsely populated, was buzzing with unusual energy. Icy banners fluttered in the wind, strung between snow huts like festive ribbons. Sokka had insisted they combine the Winter Solstice festival with a full-blown Halloween party. The result was somewhere between charming and chaotic.
Katara adjusted the faux bone necklace on her costume—she had gone for an Arctic Witch look, complete with a fur-lined hood and long, flowing robes stitched with tiny crystals. She cast a glance over at her brother, who had just emerged from their home in a sleeveless bear-fur tunic and blue war paint smeared haphazardly across his face.
“Really?” she said flatly.
Sokka grinned, sloshing a slushy drink in a carved whale-bone mug. “I call it ‘Glacier Gladiator.’” He burped. “I also call it... strong. Katara, taste this.”
“I’m not drinking anything that came from your personal stash. You’re supposed to be co-hosting, remember?”
“I am hosting,” he said proudly, then took a long sip. “I’m setting the vibe.”
Katara sighed.
From down the snowy path came the sound of approaching sleds. The visitors had arrived.
First was Aang, waving enthusiastically as he leapt off Appa with a gust of airbending so strong it knocked Sokka’s mug into the snow. He was wrapped in an enormous penguin onesie that swished when he moved.
“Happy Solstoween!” Aang beamed, a term he had invented and kept trying to make catch on.
Right behind him came Suki and Ty Lee, riding double on a polar otter. Suki’s makeup was crisp and immaculate, her Kyoshi Warrior uniform slightly stylized with orange accents. Ty Lee wore a zombie acrobat leotard, complete with fake bite marks and dramatic eyeliner that made her look more like a tired raccoon than undead.
“Heyyy party people!” Ty Lee did a cartwheel off the otter.
Then came Zuko, scowling as usual, walking behind them with his arms folded and a long black coat flapping around his legs.
“Is that your costume?” Sokka called out.
“I’m dressed as a man haunted by his failures,” Zuko said without missing a beat.
Sokka raised his drink. “Cheers to that.”
Katara was about to greet them properly when a sudden silence fell over the group. Aang’s waving stopped mid-motion. Ty Lee’s ponytail stiffened. Even Zuko blinked.
Because striding up through the snow like she belonged there—like she owned the whole tribe—was Azula.
She wore a long silver gown laced with blue fire embroidery and a fur-trimmed cape, looking like some ancient spirit of mischief crossed with a fashion disaster who somehow pulled it off. Her hair was twisted up in an elaborate knot and dusted with frost, probably on purpose. She looked smug. She looked stunning. She looked like trouble.
“Hi friends,” she purred. “Miss me?”
Katara’s jaw tightened. “What are you doing here?”
Aang stepped forward sheepishly. “I, uh... may have invited her.”
“And I seconded it!” Haru added, poking his head out from behind a snow mound. He had apparently come early and promptly been buried. “Azula promised she’d behave.”
“Define ‘behave,’” Katara muttered.
“I brought cider,” Azula said sweetly, holding up a bottle of something definitely not cider. “And costumes. And chaos.”
Sokka clapped his hands. “Awesome! Chaos goes great with fermented seal milk!”
Katara groaned and mentally braced herself for the longest party of her life.
And Halloween hadn’t even started yet.
—
By sundown, the Southern Water Tribe was a frosted wonderland of paper lanterns, carved ice sculptures, and ambient glowing candles—most of which were steadily melting into puddles thanks to Aang’s overeager firebending attempts at “mood lighting.” Katara managed to save most of the setup, dashing around with buckets of snow and a half-hearted smile as she tried to keep the party from turning into a full-on disaster.
Inside the main hut, music played from a gramophone Sokka had “borrowed” from a traveling engineer, and someone—probably Ty Lee—had filled the common room with handmade banners that read things like “Spirits Welcome!” and “Screaming Encouraged!”
Sokka, now red-faced and grinning lopsidedly, stumbled into the middle of the room holding a tray of snacks.
“Seal jerky shots! Who wants a taste of my... hospitality?” he slurred.
“I’ll pass,” said Zuko from his spot by the window, his gaze fixed upward at the full moon. In his lap sat a crushed flower from the garden. He plucked one last petal and let it flutter dramatically to the floor.
“Mai loves me...” He stared. “Not.”
“Okay, emo prince, maybe don’t do that next to the food,” Azula said, lounging nearby with a bored smirk. “Also, you’re killing the vibe.”
“You’re welcome,” Zuko muttered.
Meanwhile, Aang had converted one side of the hall into a makeshift “penguin slide,” which was really just a long stretch of polished ice leading directly into an unfortunate pile of furniture.
Katara shrieked as a crash sounded behind her. “AANG! That was my grandmother’s table!”
“Sorry!” Aang called from the floor, limbs tangled and laughing. “Totally worth it!”
At the far end of the room, Suki and Ty Lee squared off in the open area that had been cleared for dancing. Except no one was dancing, because the two were mid-sparring match, eyes locked and competitive energy crackling between them.
“You rely too much on brute force,” Ty Lee said, darting in and tapping Suki’s shoulder before flipping back.
Suki twirled her fan with precision. “And you think flipping around like a squirrel counts as strategy?”
“I’m literally disabling your limbs,” Ty Lee shot back.
Azula sipped from her drink and said lazily, “There’s definitely sexual tension here.”
Both girls froze. Ty Lee turned bright pink. Suki’s fan clattered to the ground.
“WHAT?!” they yelled in unison.
Azula stood, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Just an observation. Carry on.”
They did not. Instead, they lunged—at Azula.
Laughing, she took off into the snow, shrieking with delight as Ty Lee and Suki gave chase, shouting various forms of “IT’S NOT LIKE THAT!”
Katara watched it all unfold from the edge of the room, arms crossed. She didn’t laugh. Not outwardly.
Because Azula had already tried to flirt with her. Twice.
Once while complimenting her earrings—“They distract from your scowl. Nicely done.”
And once while reaching for a snowflake caught in her hair—“Oh, look. The spirits are gifting me a reason to touch you.”
Katara had responded by dumping a bucket of icy water over Azula’s head. Azula had just grinned and said, “Frosty. I like that in a woman.”
Now Katara sat seething by the fireplace, watching the flames crackle, trying very hard not to smile.
She would not fall for Azula’s games. Not this time. Not ever.
Just then, Aang slid past again, crashing into the jerky tray and taking Sokka down with him.
Katara buried her face in her hands.
This was going to be a very long night.
—
The night wore on like a fever dream wrapped in fur and poor decisions.
Someone had started a game of “pin the tail on the sky bison,” which ended when Aang, blindfolded and enthusiastic, crashed into a decorative pole and brought down half the ceiling garlands. Ty Lee tried to help but accidentally knocked him out cold with an overzealous pressure point. He came to a minute later, giggling and insisting he saw “cosmic bunnies.”
Meanwhile, Sokka had built a snowman and was trying to marry it.
“I call her Elsa,” he told no one in particular. “She gets me.”
Katara gave up trying to restore order and was instead found pacing by the edge of the frozen inlet that curved around the back of the hut. She let the cool air steady her thoughts—and her temper. Azula had vanished from the party some time ago, and Katara was both relieved and annoyed by that fact.
She barely noticed the quiet splash.
“Hey! Hey!” someone shouted from up the hill, breaking the moment.
Aang came running with his eyes wide. “There’s—there’s something in the water!”
Katara turned just in time to see a glimmer in the moonlight—an eerie silhouette bobbing near the ice shelf. As everyone gathered, they stared down in horror.
It was a girl.
In the water.
Pale.
Still.
Azula.
“OH NO SHE’S DEAD!” Ty Lee screamed.
“What happened?!” Katara gasped, already climbing down the bank toward the frozen edge.
Suki squinted. “Wait, I thought she was just flirting with—”
“She’s frozen, that’s what she is!” Sokka said, stumbling down after Katara. “We need cactus juice! It’s a revival elixir! Where did I put my emergency flask?!”
“No! That’ll pickle her brain!” Katara snapped. “Somebody help me pull her out!”
Aang, despite the penguin suit, slid into action and helped lift the “body” out of the water. Azula flopped like a ragdoll, perfectly limp, eyes closed, arms crossed in eternal repose.
“She’s... she’s so cold...” Katara whispered, brushing wet hair from Azula’s face. Her voice broke. “I didn’t mean to—I just poured water on her earlier, I didn’t think—”
Zuko knelt beside them. “There’s only one way to save her.”
Everyone turned.
“True love’s kiss,” he said with solemn, stupid conviction.
Suki rolled her eyes. “Are you serious?”
“It worked in that play we saw!”
“No one’s kissing her!” Katara snapped.
Ty Lee leaned in anyway. “I could, just in case.”
“BACK OFF,” Katara growled, now leaning over Azula and pressing her palms against her chest. “Help me with CPR!”
She tilted Azula’s head, trying to remember the steps Gran-Gran taught her. One breath. Two.
“Come on, come on,” she whispered.
She pressed down—once, twice, three times.
And then—
Azula gasped.
Coughing, sputtering, and smirking, she cracked open one eye. “Well well... second base already? You work fast.”
Katara reeled back in shock, face redder than Zuko’s temper. “YOU—!”
Azula sat up with exaggerated drama, still dripping, and wrung out her hair like nothing happened. “You should see your faces. Absolutely priceless.”
“YOU FAKED YOUR DEATH?!” Suki shouted.
“For Halloween!” Azula chirped. “I was being festive.”
Ty Lee clapped. “That was incredible! I thought you were actually dead!”
Zuko threw a snowball at her. “You maniac!”
Katara launched after her, chasing Azula in a rage-filled sprint around the frozen pond. “I thought I killed you! I gave you mouth-to-mouth, you—you lizard-faced banshee!”
“Still counts as our first kiss!” Azula called over her shoulder.
“You’re dead to me!”
“Already tried that. Didn’t stick.”
—
Eventually, everyone calmed down—mostly thanks to Aang making warm cocoa and Zuko heating frozen towels with gentle firebending.
Katara sulked by the fire, still wrapped in indignation. Azula plopped down beside her, now in dry clothes and smelling faintly of mint soap.
“Hey,” she said, uncharacteristically soft. “I got everyone to clean up. You’ve done enough tonight.”
Katara stared at her, wary. “Why?”
Azula shrugged. “You panicked when you thought I had drowned. It was... weirdly flattering.”
Katara finally turned, a wooden spoon now in hand like a weapon. “Do you want me to drown you for real this time?”
Azula stepped closer. “Depends. Will it involve mouth-to-mouth again?”
Katara set the spoon down, closed her eyes, and took a long, meditative breath that she’d learned from Aang. She counted to five. Then eight. Then ten.
“You’re insufferable,” she muttered.
Azula’s tone softened. “But seriously. I know that was a stupid prank.”
Katara raised an eyebrow. “You think?”
A long pause passed between them.
Then Azula straightened and reached into her robe. “Here.”
She handed Katara a folded scrap of cloth. Katara opened it to find a small, carved charm—a water lily made of dark blue stone.
“It’s not an apology,” Azula added. “Because I don’t really do those. But it’s... appreciation. For saving my life. Fake or not.”
Katara looked at the charm, then at Azula, then shook her head.
“You’re lucky I have a thing for emotionally stunted lunatics.”
Azula’s grin returned. “Is that a confession?”
Katara stepped close enough for their breath to fog between them.
“Maybe,” she said. “But if you ever pretend to be dead again…’
Azula nodded solemnly. “Understood. No more death pranks.”
A pause.
“...Unless it's really funny.”
Katara rolled her eyes—and kissed her.
It was short. Soft. Infuriatingly good.
And when she pulled back, Azula looked downright dazed.
“Happy Solstoween,” Katara whispered.
Azula blinked. “...Wanna do CPR again?”
Katara smacked her with the spoon.