Banners decorated the room in all manner of maroon and sun-yellow, stitched with intricate landscapes made fresh that day by some of the best embroiderers in all of the world. Some of the thread even had bits of real gold in it. It wasn't something that the coffers of the Fire Lord could really afford, but Iroh had managed to finagle enough out of it without completely depleting the supply.
Works of art made from each of the four elements dotted the floor. Ice and water shows spouted, earth sculptures posed, and fire danced to an unknown beat throughout the room. The Avatar had even managed to bottle up something like a perpetually-spinning tornado inside of a glass jar so all four elements were present.
Aang—not the Avatar. He still had to work on that. Aang.
A table groaning with food from all four nations was settled at the edge of the room, though Iroh had already served dinner before the dance had begun. The only people at the nearly-empty table were Suki, who occasionally glanced over at Zuko with a slightly bored but happy expression, and Sokka, who continuously grabbed and ate food, only breaking to pull Suki out onto the dance floor.
Toph was somewhere on the side of the dance floor; he swore he could see small crests of Earth rise and fall between the crowd. She seemed to be drinking some kind of alcoholic beverage and laughing with a group of sailors. All he knew definitely was that she was avoiding the dance floor. He would have to step in and fix that.
Zuko had seen his girlfriend and Ty Lee fold into the crowd with drinks in hand. He worried at first—he knew something would happen to Mai if he wasn't there to protect her—but he soon realized that Mai was old enough to handle herself, so he let her go. She deserved her share of play after her immense help with his Fire Lord duties. He didn't know what he would do without a Fire Lady.
A flash of red on the floor caught his eye and halted his thoughts. He furtively glanced around, making sure no one else had seen it. Then, he pounced.
It was a red packet that was traditionally given out on every new year. The red symbolized good luck in the coming year, which was only enhanced by the golden coins sitting inside. And, as he unfolded it and opened the flap, he realized just how much sat in it. That much gold could by a priceless piece of jewelry from the Fire Lord's own vault. A one-of-a-kind, historical piece. His eyebrows raised. Whoever had lost this must be missing it.
So, the Fire Lord searched. He even sent some of his friends and dignitaries on a mission to see if anyone was missing a red packet. Everyone turned up with negative reports.
He stared at the packet in his hand, wondering what to do with it. No one wanted it, no one missed it, and there was a lot of money. Though he didn't need it, he did find this money. Maybe the spirits were trying to tell him something?
Maybe Iroh planted it. Yes. Iroh stole more money out of the coffers to strategically place this pocket right in his line of sight. It seems like something his Uncle would do to him. Was it a trial? Had he failed?
Zuko snorted at himself, then silently cursed his Uncle. Why did he do things like this?
Zuko stowed the packet into his pocket, determined to forget it until someone came to claim it. He wasn't going to spend it. He wasn't going to think about it. It was just going to rest in his pocket. And sit. And wait for its owner to come claim it.
Once Zuko weaved his way through his friends, sticking true to his promise with Toph, and talked as much as he was going to tonight, he decided to check out a silent auction that Uncle had arranged. All of the proceeds from the items would be going to the still-newborn Earth Kingdom tribes that had yet to finish rebuilding. They would also be going to war reconstruction efforts here in the Fire Nation.
Zuko walked along the table, glancing at the objects set out. Many pieces of artwork sitting out on the floor were being sold for the cause, but other, smaller pieces equal in quality and beauty sat on the table. One particular painting, made by a waterbender, stuck out to him. On the little description piece it explained that the artist had created it by combining water and paint made with his own hands. Most of the flowers that were ground to make the paste were imported from the Earth Kingdom, and a few things, like the Fire Lily, from the Fire Nation. Then, he would mix the flowers into the paint, using a special Water Tribe tradition of a 20 day setting period. Water would then be added to the paint to keep a thick texture, but the colors would blur together far better than any other paint that anyone had seen.
In the picture, a blue mountain, coated with a thin layer of snow and ice, broke through the crust of the Earth and shadowed the sun behind it. The sun, however, was already setting, so the orange tones surrounded the blue, creating a beautiful contrast between the two. And the brush strokes—water strokes—were so artistically moved to give the mountain strength, while still giving the feeling like it was forever moving and flowing.
Something about the painting entranced Zuko. He stared at it, the coins in his pocket burning a hole into his skin. He could imagine it placed inside of his own bedroom, hanging between his bed and his window. The coins in his pocket were more than enough to pay for the extravagantly priced painting. He would just have to write down his name and the bid, and that painting would sit in his bedroom.
As he picked up the brush to begin to sign, something very sparkly caught him from the corner of his eye. A necklace with gigantic ocean-blue gems hanging heavily off of the silver chain rested magnificently on the red table-cloth. The largest diamond, centered as a pendant, was surrounded by silver molded into a snowflake shape. Smaller, but still prominent red rubies set an equal distance between each of the blue gems, creating a fire and ice pattern in the necklace.
This one hit him harder with familiarity. It took him a few moments to realize that it reminded him of Katara. He could imagine it sitting on her neck, elongating her already long and graceful neck. It represented her life that was in the Fire Nation—it was largely a diamond, like the blue clothes that she wore here, while still holding a hint of the ruby in the style of the clothes. But, the center blue stone with the snowflakes around it was her home. How she would never be able to leave that part of her behind, no matter how she may try to eradicate it. It would always be as constant to her as her mother's necklace was around her neck.
Suddenly, the coins weren't burning his skin. Zuko reassuringly patted the outside of his robes, then quickly picked up the pen. This was vastly more expensive, but the coins in the pocket still barely covered it. One more bid, and he might not get it. But this was something that he had to have. Not even the painting would console him.
She sighed heavily, running her hand over her elegantly pulled up hair. The noise of the party was so loud—no music had truly started again. Not since the auctions started. Something—something about seeing priceless pieces of art that her people had made being sold off to the highest bidder here in the Fire Nation made her sick and disgusted. Fat, pompous old men who didn't care if families back in the South Pole went starving for the whole of the war. They continued to sit on their money, and would bid it off to help out the people. She knew Iroh had his heart in the right place, and that the money would get delivered to where it should go. But, seeing those hands raise, women crawling all over the men, waiting for money to be tossed at them, then touching the art that her people had worked so hard on-
She pulled her blue furred shawl closer to herself. The night was hot—humid was more like it—and even she was having a hard time with underarm stains. But the emotions churning inside of her stomach made her forget her environment. She would pull the shawl closer to herself if she wanted to.
Turtleducklings, curious at the figure sitting just outside of their pond, ducked their heads out from behind a reed. She glanced curiously at them, smiling. The ducks quickly shot back behind it. Maybe they were scared of her. Like the people in the other room rightly should be.
But, the ducks had no reason to be afraid of her. She wasn't a mean person.
"Come here," she whispered, making her voice as smooth as the pond and soft as the moonlight. Her mocha fingers reached out to them. "Come on out. Don't be shy. I won't be mean to you. It's those nasty Fire Nation men that I can't stand." The ducks peeked their heads out again, then slowly paddled their way to her hand. "Yeah, see? I'm not gonna hurt you. I can't promise that the Fire Nation won't, but I will. I will never hurt you."
"Still prejudiced?" The voice made her jump, and a turtleduck was almost smashed as Katara stood up as quickly as possible, landing a foot in the pond. The turtleduck reprimanded her with a short nip at her heel, which made her yelp. She grabbed at the sensitive part of her skin, then dropped to the bank. The stranger, who wasn't a stranger at all, sat down beside her.
"I am not prejudiced," she announced loudly, rubbing her heel. "You were there. You saw how they acted. They couldn't wait to get their greasy hands on any kind of painting from the Water Tribe. They wouldn't have been nearly as willing if they were still in the middle of the war. They only think about themselves."
He chuckled, the deep bass of his voice making tingling shivers roll down her back.
"So, Sifu Fire Lord. If you are so high and mighty, why aren't you out entertaining those... pigs?" She spat in the direction of the men.
"I despise the men as much as you do, but I hardly call them pigs." The seriousness in his voice echoed through the garden. All of the peace and tranquility she tried to shroud herself with was shattered. "They are the driving force of our country. Without the money, we would literally be run into the ground. They are important, Katara, but they—"
"You Fire Nation are all just selfish!" The turtleducks were scared back behind the reeds. Zuko flinched, but stayed strong. This only enraged her more. "You are always so passionate about everything that has to do with your nation! Don't you see what those horrible, gross, disgusting men are doing to women and my country out there! They are using a priceless Water Tribe painting like it is a napkin! You don't care about morals, about love, about family. All you care about is the next time you can dominate over someone!"
She was panting with the exertion—her throat hurt just to breathe.
"And you think that your tribe is perfect?" He replied in kind, standing in dominance. "Ever since the war has ended, I have heard nothing about reconstruction or aid for the other countries! At least those men you call pigs are willing to dig into their pockets and give to other countries. You call us elitists."
Her jaw dropped. Did he just accuse her tribe of being poor? Oh, was he going to get it.
"Excuse me, Mr. Right. While your country was reaping the benefits of a hundred year-long war, selling off crops at extremely inflationary rates to try and get money from everyone that they could, we were at the other end of the stick. We had no money to pay the taxes that the Fire Nation imposed on us, let alone the cost of bread because of the high price of wheat. So while your men got fat off of money and food, we starved in the North and South, having to heave and work for our own crops!"
He scoffed heavily, crossing his hands over his chest. "You thought we were sitting on a pile of money? All of the inflationary food went straight to the war effort. My own personal coffers of money is significantly reduced from what it would normally be. We had people just as poor and starving as you were. Don't act like you are justified because the 'Fire Nation starved you'. People in our own country were starving because of my own father. He turned his back on his own country. So do not accuse us of being greedy pigs!"
"But, you were." She stuck her tongue out, and sneered.
"We were not!" He huffed, a little burst of fire shooting out from underneath his foot.
"Oh, you weren't?" She tugged at the water in the pond, and gathered a few drops from the humidity in the air. "I'll bet whoever wins in a sparring match is right."
"Deal." Before he finished speaking, he threw two fists at Katara, fireballs spinning out. He took the moment to jump up, flip off his robes, and kick a few curves of flame at her.
Katara easily deflected the weak attacks and parried with her own. Shards of ice flew at his throat, which he singed down to nothing but steam. Katara quickly gathered that water while creating a shield to block his next kicking attack.
Neither gained the upper hand as they continued to fight. Their passion and anger held their fatigue in check, and stretched the fight out farther than it should have gone. Both suffered bruises and cuts, but nothing life-altering. Evenly matched, they fought until they were reduced to nothing but panting, crumbled forms on the ground. Both of them were too tired for any more anger or fighting.
It was time for him to make his move.
He pulled out the necklace from his pocket, unable to speak because he had to catch his breath. So, he held it out to her.
Her eyes widened at the beautiful necklace.
"Is—is this for me?" She reached out for it, her hand turning fluid as her fingers brushed the soft metal. He couldn't help but notice that the diamonds weren't quite as bright as her eyes.
"Yes. It—it reminded me of you." The necklace seemed to keep her in a trance. She held it out in front of her face, both hands cradling the precious metals. She stared at it with a deep passion, something so unfathomable for him. He could only imagine that the immense love he had for firebending might compare. Tears of happiness, he assumed, sprung to her eyes.
"Zuko. This is—this is so—" She fumbled with the clasp, tears sliding down her cheeks and blurring her vision. Zuko quickly took over and unhooked it. He placed it across her neck, then fastened it. Her beautiful hand came to rest against the necklace, and played with it much like she would touch her mother's necklace. "How could you afford something like this? I know the coffers of the Fire Lord aren't exactly doing well."
The romantic moment screeched to a halt. Of course. Katara would want to mention something like price. He would keep her happy, though, and entertain her question.
"Yes, I know the coffers aren't doing well." He gingerly touched the necklace, and the skin beneath. He could feel her straighten, and the nodes of her skin raise. Why didn't he buy her necklaces more often? "I received a great gift. A red pouch I found on the ground. It was filled with an inexplicable amount of money." Still behind her, he ran his hands down the back of her arms, feeling the electric charge dart between them.
"Did you try to find the owner?" She asked, voice soft as the metal. "I'm sure that she is missing her money right now."
He paused in his motions to look questioningly at her. "Do you know who's money it is?"
"As a matter of fact, I do." She reached back behind her to rest her hand on his face, and leaned back into his lap. Her back pressed up against his chest. "It was mine."
This time, it was he to stop the romantic moment. He jolted slightly, though Katara didn't seem to mind. He relaxed when he realized what he had done. "It was your money? Why didn't you try to claim it? You know how much was in there! It was a fortune."
Katara idly picked a piece of grass, opting to run it up and down his pale arm. She was pretending it wasn't a big matter. "Aang gave it to me."
Oh. That explained everything. But, she continued on anyway. "Ever since we broke up—I mean, I broke up with him—he's been trying to shower me with gifts to win my love." She tossed the grass away, and preferred to use her hand instead. "It started with his small, but still expensive gifts he would give me on my birthday. More spirit water, jewelry, paintings. Whatever caught his eyes that day. The first few days, I couldn't bring myself to throw away the gifts. Most of them were priceless. So, I would give them away. Charities would take them and sell them for extravagant amounts to help serve the poor. Toph and Sokka got more than they could ever hope for." She snorted once at this. He couldn't help but chuckle as well. "Now, I just throw it away. You saw what I did with that red packet. Thousands, maybe, of gold coins stuffed into a red pouch. I didn't care to count." She turned to look up at him, her hand stopping to rub the side of his face. "At least you found it. And, I love what you did with it." She beamed up at him. He was happy to stay in this moment for the rest of his life.
A/N: I don't own Avatar, or any of the characters.