If These Sins are Mine

by them_fatale_11

Summary:

Zutara Week 2025 - Day 1 - Royalty

Trying to make up for the sins of your ancestors is hard enough without Fire Princesses asking why those water tribe visitors are so mad at her dad.

Notes:

Ayyyy welcome to Zutara Week! New stories comin’ at ya all week long babes dinner is served!

This one attempts to answer the question: how do you tell a five year old princess that her ancestors are war criminals?

Katara let Izumi help braid her hair.

She’d done Izumi’s for her as soon as Kya had gone down for her nap, twining her daughter’s sleek black hair into water tribe braids. She was only five, but getting the knack of braiding. And she loved helping string Katara’s beads onto the thin braids that framed her face.

“One for Uncle Sokka,” Izumi said, threading the beads onto one of Katara’s braids. “One for aunt Suki. One for grandma, one for Great Gran, and…” she picked an especially decorative dark blue bead from the waiting bowl, “this one is for Grandpa ‘Koda.”

“That one?” Katara asked playfully.

Izumi beamed and nodded excitedly.

“Good choices,” Katara said as Izumi tied off the end of the braid for her. Messily. She would fix it later, when Izumi wasn’t looking. “Now how about the other one?”

Izumi bent over the bowl of beads again, studying them with her tongue stuck thoughtfully between her lips.

“This one for Papa,” she said, “and this one for Grandpa Iroh.”

Katara let Izumi place them in her outstretched palm.

“And one for Kya, and one for me!” Izumi said, holding up her last two selections joyfully.

The beads for her two daughters nearly matched. Both were red, one speckled gold and the other speckled silver.

“Perfect,” Katara said.

She held them in her palm as Izumi strung them on her waiting braid.

Kya, in her cradle behind them, awoke, fussing.

Izumi’s eyes lit up, “Mum! Kya’s up!”

“I’ve got her,” Zuko appeared from the anteroom just as Katara turned.

Zuko bent over the cradle and scooped little Kya into his arms. Katara’s heart leapt in her chest, as it always did when she watched Zuko with their children. He looked up at her, smiling as he bounced Kya in his arms, and Katara’s breath hitched and tears pressed at her eyes.

Spirits Kya had been born months ago and she was still crying at literally everything.

Zuko crossed to her and brushed a tear from the corner of her eye. She gave a little laugh. She felt ridiculous. Zuko kissed her cheek lightly.

Kya had already settled against Zuko’s chest. She, just like Izumi had when she was that small, loved her father’s firebender warmth.

And then Izumi attacked his legs.

“Papa!” She said, throwing her arms around his knees.

Zuko handed Kya to Katata so he could sweep Izumi up onto his hip.

“Look at you today!” He said. “You look so nice in your fancy robes!”

Izumi giggled and blushed, proud at the praise.

Izumi and Zuko were dressed very similarly that day, in Fire Nation styles and colors, but worked through with water tribe stitching and beadwork. The flame insignia on Zuko’s chest today was made entirely of rows of glass beads. Water tribe craftsmanship. Katara had done most of it herself.

Katara was in full southern water tribe regalia, her robes decked in intricate embroidery and coated in beads that rattled when she walked. Kya was wrapped in a little stitched gown of her own, blue fabric sewn with a pattern of stars.

Katara nestled Kya into the wrap across her chest. If their luck held, she would sleep straight through the ceremony.

Zuko, Izumi still on his hip, leaned in and kissed her.

“Ew,” Izumi said.

Zuko laughed, put Izumi down, and kissed Katara again, his free hand lingering on the small of her back.

“Ready?” He asked.

Katara took a deep, steadying breath. She nodded.

 

—

 

The site was beautiful now. Craftsmen and gardeners and artisans from both nations had worked for months to make it so.

They’d finally torn down the prison. They’d destroyed every trace of that awful facility designed to contain waterbenders and had turned it, instead, into a memorial for every waterbender who’d ever been captured.

Today, it would open to the public. A place where the families of the fallen could find a moment of peace and recognition. A reminder of a dark chapter that future generations could visit, and avoid repeating.

The landscaping was peaceful, as Katara walked through it with her daughters. Wandering pebbled paths through stands of trees and beautiful, glassy ponds, dotted by fountains that rippled with the gentle sounds of falling water.

The trees were hung with wooden totems. Every one of them bearing a name. Fire Nation scribes had worked tirelessly with the families of the southern tribes, matching a name to every record of every waterbender stolen from home. Water Tribe artisans had carved an intricate totem for every single one.

Katara had hung her mother’s totem herself, with help from Sokka and their father, a few days earlier.

Zuko had given a beautiful speech, dedicating the site to the waterbenders taken by the war. Offering what apologies he could for the crimes of his ancestors. Most of the raids had taken place before Zuko was even born. He’d have been only ten years old during the last of them. Still, he carried the weight of what his predecessors had done.

He’d wanted to read out every victim’s name, to honor each one, but even Katara had dissuaded him from that. It would have taken hours.

And as Katara walked the grounds, Izumi’s hand in one of hers, Kya, -her little girl named for her mother,- asleep against her chest, she felt this place like a balm on an old wound. When the grief was sharp, she could come here and know that everyone who was lost would be remembered. That the tragedy that had befallen her people would never be hidden again.

Zuko kept trying to join them as they walked, but he kept getting waylaid by other guests and dignitaries. Several major noble families had sent members of their houses to witness the memorial’s opening. And every tribe and family that had lost someone had been invited. Those that chose to come were flown in on airships at the Fire Nation’s expense.

A middle aged man dressed in Southern Water Tribe clothing stepped in front of Zuko on the path. Zuko paused, dipping his head to the man in a show of respect.

“Do you truly believe a park makes up for everything your nation did to mine?” The man snapped.

Katara’s heart leapt into her throat. She saw Zuko lower his gaze.

“My father was taken in your raids when I was just a boy,” the man went on. “And a few years later, they came back for my sister. She was nine years old and they still took her. She died in your prisons when she was still a child!”

Katara saw the pain in Zuko’s face. She saw him reply, but his words were too soft for her to catch.

“Ashmakers,” the man swore. “There is nothing you can do that will make up for what you’ve done to us.”

“I know,” Zuko said, just loud enough for the words to carry toward Katara.

The man continued to yell. Enough that Izumi took notice.

“Mum?” She asked, her tiny fingers tightening on Katara’s hand. “Is that man mad at Papa?”

Katara swallowed hard.

“Yes, dearest,” she said. “He is.”

“Why?” Izumi asked.

Katara’s heart twisted in her chest. She led Izumi to a decorative stone bench and sat down, pulling her daughter up into her lap. Izumi looked up at her, her eyes wide and curious.

“Do you remember what we told you about your Grandpa Ozai?” Katara asked.

“That he isn’t very nice,” Izumi said, “and that’s why I don’t see him. He’s not like Grandpa ‘Koda.”

“No, he’s not,” Katara said. She brushed a loose strand of hair off of her daughter’s forehead, “And…a long time ago, when Ozai was the Fire Lord, he… he did a lot of bad things.”

“What kinds of things?”

Katara took a breath that shuddered a little.

“He hurt that man’s family,” she said, looking over at the water tribe man who was still yelling at Zuko. “…He hurt a lot of families.”

Izumi sat very quietly, brow furrowed confusedly, “why?”

Katara closed her eyes. Why indeed.

“The Fire Lords before your Papa were afraid,” she said. “And they were mean to anyone who made them scared.”

“But Papa isn’t like that!” Izumi said, indignant. “That’s not fair!”

Katara sighed, “no, it isn’t.”

She pulled Izumi a little closer.

“Your Papa is a good Fire Lord,” she said. “He’s worked very hard to be good. But there were a lot of bad Fire Lords before your Papa. And your Papa is trying to say sorry for all the things the bad Fire Lords did.”

Izumi sat quietly, thinking.

“And someday, when you get to be Fire Lord…” Katara added.

Izumi’s serious little face broke into a grin, her shoulders coming up toward her ears.

“…you can be a good Fire Lord too.”

“I want to be a nice Fire Lord,” she said.

Katara kissed her daughter’s cheek, “I bet you’ll be the nicest Fire Lord yet.”

Izumi nodded seriously, “I’ll be very nice, and vegetables will be illegal.”

Katara burst out laughing. Izumi giggled shyly.

She looked back over at Zuko. The water tribe man had moved on, but Zuko still stood there, looking down at the ground with his hands buried in the pockets of his robes, sorrow in every line of his face.

Katara gently set Izumi back on her feet, “go get your dad.”

Izumi didn’t need to be told twice. She took off down the path toward Zuko. At the sound of her footsteps, Zuko looked up. His face broke into a soft smile and he bent down to scoop her up. Tossing her up into the air and catching her so she shrieked with laughter.

Izumi and Kya wouldn’t know war. Not in the way Zuko and Katara had as children.

Sometimes that thought alone made all their work feel worth it.

Katara rose, joining them just as Zuko settled Izumi on his hip. He held his other arm out to her and she stepped into his embrace.

“Are you ok?” She asked.

Zuko took a very heavy breath, but he nodded. Katara kissed him on the cheek.

“Papa. Papa!” Izumi said, tugging a little on one of Zuko’s braids when he didn’t turn to her fast enough.

“Yes little one?” He said, smiling.

“I’m going to be the nicest Fire Lord ever!” She announced.

“Oh you are are you?” He asked.

He made a show of pretending to drop her, letting her slide down his robes a little and quickly hoisting her back up until she giggled, knowing the whole time that she was secure.

“Yeah!” she said, through her laughter.

“I can’t wait,” he said.

He held his other hand out to Katara. She took it.

Together, they began to walk through the memorial, listening to the rippling water and watching the totems sway in the trees.

 

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