AN: Eek. It HAS been a while, hasn't it? Many, many apologies. Life sorta got in the way. It's still in the way, actually, but oh well…

"No, no, NO! I said it should be curved there! By the corner! Before it touched the sand! Knock it down and start over!"

Teo grinned. As much as Toph grumbled and growled about her position as a leader, she sure filled the job well. Not a single earthbender on the construction team dared argue or disobey her, and she instilled in her 'subjects' a real motivation to get the job done. Teo suspected they all secretly admired her a great deal.

He rolled his wheels over the boardwalk to where Toph was directing the team in charge of constructing the wall. The wall was nowhere near as impressive as the one at Ba Sing Se, but they still thought it would do a significant amount to protect the city. And all they had to do was separate the city from the beach, so the project wasn't as significant for earthbenders as it might have been for nonbenders. They were raising the wall one column at a time, carefully regulating the angle at which the wall bent around the city limits. Toph stood a little bit away, discussing something with a group of nonbenders. One of them offered a bit of parchment with designs on it—Teo heard her burst out, "What part of 'completely blind' do you not understand?! Why are you coming to me with these anyway? Go give them to the Mechanist!" And with a large and violent gesture of her arms, she sent them away.

"Hard at work?" Teo asked with a dry smile, offering her a canteen of cold water. Toph snatched it from his hands with a faint snarl.

"I'm surrounded by stupidity," she muttered, and took a large swig. "Ah, thanks for this. Hits the spot."

"Welcome," he replied brightly, spinning so he sat right next to where she stood—she promptly sat on the ground next to him. "So how's it going?"

"As well as could be expected with a team of halfwits," she replied dryly with another swig.

Teo eyed the completed part of the wall, already as thick as three men were tall, and curving around over half of the beach. "I think they're better than you give them credit for," he said with a raised eyebrow. "Although that might just be your incredible, mind-blowing leadership skills."

Toph snorted into her water. "It doesn't take skill to tell people how stupid they are," she argued, although hints of a smile tugged at her lips. Teo smiled back, elbowing her.

"But you do it so well." She ducked her head and chuckled.

"Thanks, Three-Wheels."

And Teo's day got just a bit brighter.

-x-x-

"Shorter and sharper hits…good. Snap it."

Clack. Clack…clack.

"Make your hands a little closer, gives you more momentum. Spread your feet. You're too far forward, balance your weight a little more."

The young man leaned back, swinging the staff in a wide, low arc in front of him. The older woman he was fighting just barely managed to deflect it with her own staff—she glanced up at him in surprise.

"Very good, Tomos," Suki praised with light applause from her seat on the hill. "You're progressing nicely! Much better than yesterday! You too, Mamen, that was a good block. You have excellent reflexes." The young man blushed furiously, while the woman gave a proud smile.

Their section of the plains was filled with nonbending members of their foot army—although in Suki's opinion, none of them looked like soldiers—sparring amongst themselves with various weapons. Haru's spears were prevalent, their tips wrapped in cloth to soften their blow. Mai, to everyone's great surprise, had taken control of her own regiment. She had ordered over a thousand small knives, all in different shapes, and was at the other end of the field, teaching her soldiers how to throw them. Suki leaned back in the sunshine, hand over her belly, watching. The tall woman was prowling behind a line of knife-throwers, correcting where she saw fit, calling out quiet reminders to all of them. Each person along the line looked focused, deep in concentration. Suki couldn't imagine Mai would allow any fooling around while she was teaching.

"Auntie Suki! Auntie Suki!" She turned, spotting Aku hobbling up the hill towards her. She smiled.

"Hello, Aku. What are you doing here?"

Panting, the young prince plopped on the ground next to her with a grin. "Mai's teaching 'em stuff I already know," he said plainly, crossing his normal leg under his scarred one. "But she said she can't leave me home alone, and no one's at the house, so I have t'stay here with her until she's done teaching her 'birdies', as she calls 'em."

Suki raised an eyebrow. "'Birdies'?" Aku nodded.

"She never calls them that when they're listening, but she does when she's talking about them with other people."

How interesting. The dry, unemotional noblewoman had given nicknames to her pupils. Could she be getting attached? Suki glanced over to where Mai was instructing—and noticed things she hadn't before. Small smiles to soldiers who did something right, a certain gentleness in her corrections. Although her instructions were always firm, it was the little things that gave her an aura of a caring mother hen.

It's going to be hard on her, to send them off into battle, Suki thought sadly. And they had all seen how she had begun to treat her husband. She had avoided being alone with him, had gone to bed before anyone else, so that when Zuko walked into their bedroom, she was already asleep. But although it obviously pained Zuko, he accepted it without argument, and simply threw himself even more into planning for the defense of Lingsi.

Aku leaned closer, his eyes bright. "Auntie Suki," he whispered. She blinked, and glanced down. "What are you gonna name the baby?"

Her hands unconsciously wrapped tighter around her abdomen, and a certain strange feeling gripped her heart. A smile tugged at her lips. "If it's a girl, we'll name her Kya, since that was Sokka's mother's name. If it's a boy…well, Sokka wanted to name him Angoda."

"Why? Was that your father's name?"

Suki swallowed. "No…we wanted to name him after our friend Aang. He's gone, now."

Aku looked sobered. "That was the Avatar's name, right?"

She nodded. "Right."

"Why not just name him Aang?"

"Because that's an airbender name," Suki said softly, her fingers clenching at the fabric of her tunic. "And there are no airbenders left."

-x-x-

"What did you just say?" Zuko demanded, eyes wide. Haru grinned.

"My father is making you a general at my recommendation," he repeated. "You'll be leading your own troops."

Zuko sat in the nearest seat, staring up at him. "How did you manage that?"

Haru shrugged, the grin still lingering. "I can be persuasive when I want to be. I know you have army experience, so I thought you'd be a real asset if we put you in a leadership position."

Board members were milling around the semicircular chamber, amongst the rows of stadium seats. Several were discussing matters with the five Council members in the center of the chamber, and an entire committee surrounded a table full of the Mechanist's designs. The Mechanist himself was animatedly gesturing to several of the designs, writing in numbers and figures. The chamber was a hive of war discussion.

"I appreciate that, Haru," Zuko said with a smile, shaking Haru's hand happily. "I appreciate that a great deal."

Haru returned the smile—then it faded somewhat. "I do have a question, though," he said, under the dialogue around them. He leaned forward, staring intently. "What about your firebending? Will you use it to fight?"

Zuko looked away, shaking his head. "The way I see it, no sane Earth Kingdom soldier would follow a firebender into battle. I'll fight with my broadswords."

"Good. That's what I wanted to hear," said Haru brightly, despite the sudden, faint despondence in Zuko's manner. He obviously wanted to use his greatest skill to help the cause he was fighting for. In an effort to cheer him up, he added: "You'll make a great general, Zuko. I think we made the right choice."

He sighed, resting his chin on his hand. "Tell that to my wife," he said bitterly. Haru noted the particular pain that laced his expression, and seemed to slump his shoulders. Everyone had seen the way his wife ignored him after he had told her he was going to fight for the earthbenders. Aku hadn't understood it at all, but he seemed to sense that asking either Mai or Zuko about it would be a bad idea. So he just watched in obvious confusion. The rest of them pretended not to notice, carefully averting their gazes or distracting their hands with something else.

Haru sat in a seat in front of him, looking at him with sympathy. "I'm sure she'll come around," he said reassuringly. "I heard from Suki she's taken to her own regiment quite well, even though she grumbled about it at first."

The former prince shook his head, looking tired and worn. "Mai doesn't forgive and forget that easily. She's one of those women who hold grudges. Especially with things that affect her strongly, you know? She doesn't think I should be fighting in this battle, she doesn't think I should put this cause above the wellbeing of my family…and maybe she's right. Maybe I shouldn't."

Haru shook his head. "That's only for you to decide, Zuko," he said firmly. "She may have her own opinions on what you should do, but no one really knows except you."

There was a slight pause. Zuko appeared to be deep in thought. "I want to be here," he said finally. "I want to fight. It is for the wellbeing of my family. I'm trying to defend their home, trying to keep them safe. If the Fire Nation found and captured Mai and Aku, Aku would be sent back to Azula, and Mai…Mai would be executed for high treason." His voice was tight as he said it, and his fingers clenched into a fist in his lap. Haru observed him silently, knowing that horrific images of Aku's return to his mother and Mai's execution were running through his head.

"See?" he said quietly. "You know what you should do. No one can tell you otherwise."

Zuko glanced up with a small, dry smile. "The army really has changed you, hasn't it?"

Haru smiled back. "I'd like to think so."

-x-x-

Dinner that night started as a quiet affair. Suki, who had gone home early to get out of the sun, cooked dinner for them all, since the rest of them were out of the house all day. Teo had helped Toph fend off consultants by going over designs and strategies with them, while Toph could continue to oversee construction of the wall. Mai had extended her instruction to combat training with knives, and Zuko and Haru had met with other generals as well as the commander (Haru's father) to go over strategy and divide the troops into wings and flanks. Aku was so exhausted from running around the practice field all day, he was nearly falling asleep in his noodles. Which meant that the main conversation-starter was quite quiet. And the atmosphere was one of tired contentedness, mixed with a bit of tense anticipation.

They were all weary from the day's work, but satisfied with its results. And none of them had forgotten what they were preparing for.

"Is there going to be a solstice festival tomorrow?" Teo asked conversationally. Haru nodded.

"The Board decided they wanted to keep the citizen's spirits up, and canceling the solstice's celebrations was not the way to do it."

Zuko and Suki nodded in approval; Aku made a happy noise at the end of the table and squirmed in his chair; Toph sighed. "We really should be preparing," she said, although only half-heartedly.

"You need a break, Toph," Teo said firmly. "Your voice is already hoarse from shouting. And I'm sure your feet must ache from all the earthbending you did today."

"I'm fine," she muttered into another forkful of noodles. Zuko and Haru chuckled.

"You're coming with us to the festival," Teo said simply. "No other choice."

Toph muttered something unintelligible in response, but appeared to oblige.

They all ate in general silence for a while, with nothing but the clink of dishes filling the quiet.

"Zuko became a general today," Haru announced proudly, glancing up at Zuko. He blushed a little, ducking his head. Suki and Teo applauded; Toph grinned, saying, "Good for you, Sparky"; Aku cheered loudly. Mai stayed dangerously silent.

"All thanks to Haru," Zuko said humbly, not unaware of the perilous turn of mood in his wife. "I'm not sure I deserve it, honestly."

"Of course you do," Suki said brightly. "You've worked as hard as anyone else to help defend this city."

"But because he's willing to die, they give him a rank," Mai said coldly.

This time, the silence was absolute. Aku's smile was frozen on his face, although his eyes looked terribly confused. Haru and Teo looked away, Suki bit her lip at the sight of a confused Aku, and Toph, staring straight ahead, clenched her fingers on the tablecloth. Zuko looked pained.

"Mai, I'm trying to make a difference. I can do that a lot better with—"

"There are many ways of making a difference." Her voice could have frozen water.

"I'm good at this, Mai," he replied angrily. "I'm letting the city take advantage of that."

"At the expense of your family?" she demanded, furiously turning to look at him.

"For my family!" he exclaimed, standing suddenly. Everyone at the table stared. "I'm not going to sit here and let others defend everyone I love! I'm not going to stay at home while people die to protect my home! I can't, Mai, I just can't! Do you know what would happen if the Fire Nation found you? You'd be executed, Mai, publicly burned in the capitol square, while Aku watched from Azula's side."

Aku had stuck his bent first finger in his mouth, something he hadn't done in a very, very long time, and was looking at his aunt and uncle with something like fear. Haru gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

Mai was looking at Zuko with extreme pain in her expression, matched only by Zuko's own. "I know you don't want to realize it, Mai," he said in a choked voice. "But I want you to be safe, and in order for that to happen, if I have to be willing to die, then so be it. I was proud to be made a general on nothing more than Haru's recommendation, because that meant that I could do more to defend you. And I promise I will."

Mai slowly rose to meet her husband's height, without taking her eyes from his. Her gaze had softened, and her expression was something close to pleading. "I don't want you to go," she whispered.

Zuko gently wrapped his arms around her—Mai let her head fall on his shoulder, eyes closed. "I know, Mai," he said softly, stroking her hair. "I would promise to come back to you if I could."

"I know," she replied. "But you can't, so don't try. No one can make me that promise."

He kissed the top of her head. "Everything will be fine, Mai," he said. "I can promise you that. We have friends, we're together, we have a home. The city is well-prepared for a battle. We know when they're coming, so they won't catch us by surprise. We'll go to the solstice celebrations tomorrow and forget about everything for a while."

"That might not be such a good idea, forgetting," Mai said.

"We've worked hard. I think we deserve a day of irresponsibility," Zuko teased, pulling away. Looking her in the eye, he raised an eyebrow. "Don't you?"

She couldn't help it—she smiled. "You're helpless. I can't believe they made you a general."

He just laughed, kissing her impulsively. "Your confidence is empowering," he said softly, still smirking. She chuckled, shook her head, and turned back to the dinner table—

--to find that everyone else had tactfully taken their dishes outside to the front porch, leaving she and Zuko were alone in the dining room.

Zuko brightly took up his own plate and hers, then gestured to the front door. "Shall we?"