Everywhere Zuko looks there are lanterns. Wisps of paper bound together with wire and held high in the air, from barely a foot above Zuko's head to higher than any of the surrounding buildings. Some are as blue as the day's sky itself, and others a deep, piercing orange. The whole sky above the beach is littered with them. Zuko looks ahead.
The ceremony has already started. Katara and Aang are standing beneath a dais made of stone and branches, wound intricately together in a structure with Earth Kingdom jute. Its deep reddish draping is stark and beautiful against the backdrop of the sea curving into Yue Bay.
The officiant stands between their meek, smiling faces. It's painfully formal, Zuko thinks, like one of his weekly general council meetings. But something sweeter simmers under the surface, in the quick glances the pair occasionally share as the High Priest drones on.
Zuko can't draw his eyes away from Katara's hair, which ripples like waves behind her. It wasn't this long the last time he saw her, maybe six months ago, though it feels like a lifetime. A wreath of flowers, in white, red, and vibrant orange adorn the back of her head like a crown.
The officiant is an elderly Water Tribe priest. Someone chosen by Katara, he gathers. Aang had mentioned in his letters how much he just wanted a quiet, small event in the Southern Water Tribe, but with the dozens of advisors crying for neutrality for the Avatar's wedding - not to mention that they hardly had the resources to host an event of that scale - relocations had to be made.
Zuko thinks it's a perfect way to inaugurate Republic City. He would have suggested it himself.
He wonders suddenly if he has somewhere more specific to be than a cozy front row seat - remembering after a moment of mild panic that his part comes after. Three close friends needed to sign as witnesses. Sokka, sitting next to him, is another, but he can't remember who the third is going to be, though he's sure Katara mentioned it to him.
Aang is dressed in a heap of rich robes, the usual oranges, and a billowing red cloak that makes him look almost as regal as the Fire Nation garb does in Zuko's court. Zuko isn't sure if he likes that touch, to be honest. Still, he's practically glowing on the dais, Katara's hands clasped in his. Her dress is a silvery blue that glimmers almost translucently in the sunlight, in contrast to her usual hard-wearing robes and tunics. She looks quietly pleased, if a little overwhelmed, her shoulders held high and strong whenever she catches sight of the crowd. Zuko smiles at her when it ends up being his turn, and receives a momentary look of surprise and a smile in return.
It's almost too perfect, their faces and even their whole stances betraying a childish excitement, cloth billowing against the backdrop of the ocean. It's been a long time coming. Zuko feels something momentous and bittersweet bloom in his chest.
He can't bring himself to scoff, even though the picture in front of him is borderline saccharine.
The priest is finishing up the vow. No matter how hard he tries, Zuko cannot tune his ears to his words. The two of them are resplendent, crowding every one of his senses. He shifts in his seat.
Finally, Katara's speaking. "I will," she says, beaming. Her voice is low and smooth and she wobbles just a little on the end of it. It warms him greatly to see her showing nervousness like that. It's sweet - this, of all things, can make her buckle. Still, hearing those two simple words, Zuko feels a cord cut somewhere deep inside him, a bewilderment like when Appa descends too quickly for him to get his bearings on the bison's back. But there's hardly any time to sulk about that, because Aang -
"Aang?" the priest prompts.
Aang grins, shattering his whole somber act up to now with a crash of personality. His face is radiant. There's no other word for it, and Zuko has to look away so his composure doesn't waver a little.
Sokka is sitting hunched forward on the edge of his seat with his hands clasped together, eyes bulging and face contorting with a pout that threatens to burst into tears at any moment. Zuko pats him on the back in sympathy, as if he has it together himself.
"I will," says Aang, so sweet and boyish that Zuko forgets about that severe cloak instantly. He has that look on his face that means he's itching to hover in the air. They draw each other close in a long hug, followed by a kiss, and then another; the small crowd cheers louder with each gesture. There's a loud blow and a flash somewhere off to the side of the audience - a sole cameraman. Wow, was this really such a big deal? Those things were invented maybe three months ago, Zuko had seen it in the Republic City press.
As people shuffle out of the chairs, Zuko's stomach flutters with hunger, or maybe excitement. He hasn't even had the chance to talk to them yet. He watches the bride and groom being ushered to pose for a picture, an overexcited reporter directing each limb into place as Aang and Katara acquiesce with amused expressions. Sokka and Hakoda end up there soon, followed by some Water Tribe elders.
He'll catch them later, he thinks, before someone decides the Fire Lord needs to be in a shot too.
With all the formalities out of the way (his ones, anyway, because Sokka and Bumi are still arguing over the correct place to sign on the contract, and the officiant has long disappeared to drink with his party of Water Tribe elders) Zuko finds himself on a table with Toph, a giant jug of what is ostensibly lychee juice between them. Zuko is already feeling its effects; he's never been a big drinker. They're sitting at the very edge of the large marquee that houses all the tables. Toph, like him, enjoys quiet.
"You look a little flustered, Fire Lord," Toph observes over her cup. Zuko frowns automatically. Is it his heartbeat? She swirls the liquid inside the little orange clay cup in her hand. Zuko looks up to see that the shade matches the lanterns perfectly.
"Huh? I'm just tired. I got up so early this morning to fly in."
"On your dragon?" Toph says, clearly unimpressed with his complaint. "Wish I could say the same," she blows up at her fringe, which lies uncharacteristically stiff from her current hairdo. "I've been here for a week keeping Katara calm about all this." She tops up her glass. "It was worth it though. This wedding's beautiful." She pauses. "Don't tell them I said that."
Zuko laughs. "Right. It is really nice," he says. Interesting. Katara has never seemed the type to get worked up over a wedding, and she was predictably matter-of-fact about it in her letters. Toph is staring, even though she isn't, obviously, but there's a focus to her expression that feels uncanny. The lychee juice is making Zuko's face warm.
He wishes he had been there to see them - during the preparations.
Toph narrows her eyebrows and picks up a dumpling from the bowl in the middle of the table with her fingers. "I haven't seen you in a while, anyway."
"I've been busy," Zuko says. "Fire Lord stuff, you know."
"Don't you have like, a council?" Toph asks.
Zuko has to smother a smile on the stiff shoulder of his robe at that. Toph's idea of politics seems painfully simple, to say the least. He wishes it was like that, really. "I do. But I need to be there, overseeing things. Especially with all this talk still going on about the Fire Nation being stuck in its old ways." He huffs.
It's going to take more than a decade to change the internal machinations of a hundred year old war-seeking empire. No one observing from the outside appears to be willing to understand that; no one supposed to be reforming on the inside seems to be giving it more than a nominal attempt.
"I just let a couple of guys go last week," Toph says suddenly, blinking at her next dumpling. "They were getting on my nerves."
Well maybe it is that simple for Toph.
Before Zuko can comment on her managerial methods, they're interrupted by a flurry of fabric. He barely has the time to stand up from his chair before Aang glides around the side of the table and attacks him in a bear hug.
"Zuko! You're here! I didn't think you would make it!"
Zuko smiles and extracts himself so he has the breath to reply. "Ugh, don't mention it. I left Kaon in charge of today's round table. He's probably meeting with the metalworking unions and bosses as we speak."
Aang puts on a grimace that conveys exactly how glad Zuko is not to be in Kaon's place right now. It's important, he knows, but there's only so many times you can have the same discussion with the same people. He's trying hard to be more democratic about this than any Fire Lord before him ever was, but it's proving to make every adjustment painstakingly slower. It's good to have someone outside of all this trouble to discuss it with - it gives him perspective, keeps him sane.
"I wouldn't miss this," he adds, feeling too much like he's stating the obvious. Aang squeezes his shoulder with an excited bounce. "Have you seen Katara yet?"
"Nope."
Sokka saunters over. "But he's spent plenty of time with the more attractive sibling," He languidly puts his arm around Zuko's shoulders. "Where is she, anyway?" His eyes are blotchy. Zuko bites a smile away.
Aang says, "I just saw her with your dad over by that table with all those beards," he points his head in the direction. Sure enough, Katara is there, sitting deep in conversation with Hakoda and the High Priest, the cameraman hovering in their vicinity.
"Hmm," Sokka says, watching and frowning - and Zuko knows what he's thinking. How to get Katara's attention - not the cameraman's - and get her over here so they can have some time hanging out just the five of them.
"Uh," Aang starts, "I could go over there and say I have some important stuff we need to do, wedding-wise?"
Sokka scratches his chin, "No, he'd definitely follow the two of you."
Aang hums in thought, leaning on Zuko's shoulder. Standing between the two of them almost distressingly deep in thought, Zuko feels a wave of nostalgia bubble in his chest. He laughs. "Or, you could just ask him not to follow you?"
Aang and Sokka share a panicked glance that says it all. "That's not gonna work," Aang says grimly.
"Zuko," Sokka says, "you're pretty distracting. Ruler of a nation and all. You should grab his attention while I drag Katara over here."
"And then how would I lose him and get back?"
"Oh."
Toph, who has been sitting quietly with her 'lychee juice' all this time, sighs and stands up, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Over here, Sugar Queen!" All heads in the dining area whip towards her. Katara waves and signals with her hand - a few more minutes. They've caught the cameraman's attention, too and Zuko watches his face light up the moment his eyes scan over Zuko and he recognises the emblem and the crown. Crap.
"You," Toph bellows, before the cameraman has taken two steps towards them. "Not another step." She pats her fist.
So Toph is pretty notorious in Republic City. The cameraman stays put.
By the time Katara gets to them, lifting the skirt of her dress to maneuver her bare feet between the crowds of tables, the sun is low in the sky. Everything in the marquee is dusted with a glowing pink sheen.
"Oh, I'm so sorry guys - there's a million people Dad knows from the North that wanted to see me - Aang, you too, you have to go over there at some point, have you guys eaten yet? I'm actually starving- Zuko!"
She almost trips over her skirt to leap into his arms, alarmingly reminiscent of her boyfriend - her husband - an hour ago. "I saw you in the crowd! I didn't think you were still here."
Zuko returns her hug and holds it for a long moment until she's almost swaying in his arms. It must be the lychee juice. When they part, he beams at her, unable to hold it in. "Let's eat and talk."
Aang calls the catering over to their table. The food is as delicious as Republic City is coming to be known for, as mishmash of the world's best cuisines. Platters of spring rolls and octopus fritters, followed by a main dish of roast duck garnished with a colourful assortment of vegetables. The side dish of seaweed soup remains untouched by everyone but Katara and Sokka. They only manage a few snippets of conversation over it; too absorbed in the meal in front of them to talk. Zuko wishes Uncle could have come - he would really know how to appreciate this meal right here.
But the food, if you ask him, is far outmatched by the conversation with his friends after, laughter and stories and refills of lychee juice abound.
Zuko has a comfortable room in the hotel by the bay. The only hotel, so everyone else is here, too. He and Aang had built lodgings for themselves further inside the city, not to mention that Aang and Katara and Toph practically live here now. Still, it turns out no one has the mind to travel into the city so late at night after all the drinking and dancing, what with most side streets being under various levels of construction. Katara had the foresight to book all her guests in here, a minute from the outdoor wedding party.
Zuko lies on the bed and closes his eyes. In a few minutes, he'll go meet the rest of them on Katara and Aang's balcony for tea and a real catch up uninterrupted by wedding guests. Just the newlyweds would be fine, too.
A sharp knock on the door interrupts him.
"Come in," Zuko commands.
The man is one of the aides from his friends' entourage, with an envelope in his hand. His face is grave.
"Fire Lord," he stands to attention. "A message for you. There's an emergency in the Earth Kingdom. The Avatar and company await you downstairs."
Zuko rips opens the wax seal on the letter and scans it as he walks down the stairs. He recognises Uncle Iroh's scrawl instantly, not to mention the jasmine-scented parchment.
Zuko,
I am sure word has reached to you of the terrible earthquake that took place this morning in the southeastern Earth Kingdom provinces. I urge you to go as a sign of solidarity and friendship and allow me to send a few men after you to aid reconstruction. These matters are exactly where your presence is needed as the leader of a reborn Fire Nation and a founder of the United Republic of Nations. I will oversee your duties in the meantime. Kaon is doing quite a job with the metalworkers.
Iroh
P.S. do tell your friends to send me pictures of the wedding.
He rushes to the reception. Downstairs, a small group is already gathered there, Aang and Hakoda amongst them. When he sees Zuko, Aang excuses himself quickly, striding right over.
"We have to go, Zuko," he says, worry lining his face. "The whole Earth Kingdom is in disarray."
Aang drags him into the circle of interlocutors. A harried messenger - from the Earth Kingdom's royal court, judging by his apparel - is giving them a run-down of events. He gives an awkward half-bow in acknowledgement of Zuko's presence, as if he can't decide the appropriate form, between Zuko's ceremonial robes (and crown) and the unceremonious way Aang is still holding onto his limp arm.
Zuko says after their briefing, "What about your - don't you guys have a honeymoon to go on?"
"It'll have to wait," Aang frowns.
Katara comes rushing down the stairs with Sokka just as he says it, as if their thoughts summoned her. A couple of people give them way. "We need to organise a convoy of healers," she says immediately, addressing the group.
"Master Katara - if you wish to enjoy the evening we can-" one of the old beards, a man holding flat a map of the Five Nations, tries to intercept. Katara only interrupts him again. Zuko stifles a smile: as if that's going to work. Hakoda, who seems to know his daughter marginally better, says, "Katara, dear, we can take care of it if you two want a break."
Katara's face is tense. "No. We have to go. I have the best healers in the world under my command." She turns to Aang, "And what's the Avatar for if he doesn't go to help out - what are they saying? Tens of thousands missing and homeless already." Aang and the messenger are nodding severely in agreement, one proclaiming his duty and one affirming the statistics.
No one has anything to say to that.
"I'm going as well," Zuko states to the group. "I'll meet with the province leaders and see what resources they need. We still have the best technology to offer them."
Katara's expression is absolutely beholden to him. Zuko stands firmer and straighter.
She steps to Aang and holds him by the shoulders. It's an image familiar to Zuko, though somewhere in the years they have swapped heights.
"You should go ahead," she says. She takes Zuko's hand and squeezes it. "Both of you."
Aang's face falls a little; clearly he had something else in mind. She takes it in her hands apologetically, and Zuko wonders why the rest of their little party doesn't have the good grace to even pretend to look away, like he does.
"Wait," Sokka says suddenly. "Doesn't it make sense if Katara goes first? Medical assistance is the first priority. Some of the best healers are right here with Katara in Republic City. And the Northern Water tribes can send more soon, right?" He nods towards Hakoda and an elderly woman next to him, who react with stern, ready eyes that say let's discuss it tonight.
"You're right," Aang says. He looks at Katara. "Take Appa."
Zuko adds, "Take Druk, too, you'll be able to fit a few more others."
Sokka makes a strangled noise.
Zuko rolls his eyes. "He's domesticated. He'll do what I say."
Sokka, Katara and their tribesmen end up conferring late into the night. Zuko catches snatches of the conversation throughout the evening as he and Aang load up the vessel that has been brought out to Yue Bay for them.
"I'll get as many of my quickest, most experienced healers as I can," Katara explains. "I'll put a call out first thing tomorrow all over the city, too."
Sokka is looking up at the sky; there isn't a cloud in sight. He squints. "If you start late morning, you should reach by afternoon tomorrow." He looks at the map again. "If Dad and I start to journey North tonight, we can send more healers by next week."
"What about Aang and Zuko?" Katara says.
Sokka peers closely at the map. "You'll be there next week on this ship. Faster than by land."
It's chilly by the time they finish loading up; the spring hasn't settled yet. They say their goodbyes. To think that just this morning, Zuko had been complaining about a few uncooperative armour forgers. Tens of thousands are probably dead.
He introduces himself to their ship's Captain and navigator. There's one thing he isn't going to miss - he could have been back in the Fire Nation tomorrow, stuck in a meeting. And like Uncle said, this might help deal with the dissidents; the next, now-predictable wave of people who are still arguing that the Fire Nation isn't looking to reform, or that it shouldn't, or that the nations can never be well integrated.
The thought leaves a guilty taste in his mouth, but he has always preferred being hands-on than confined to a desk, ruling from afar.
A couple of days alone with Aang might liven him up for a bit, too.