Request from Netbug009 for some TAangst . . . three or so years late.
Of Tapestries and Twinkle Toes
It's just a tapestry, Twinkle Toes. A cheeky smile greets familiar tears.
Aang sits in his bed chambers, crumpled on the floor, and clutches fabric.
Jeez, life goes on; you should get this by now.
By now? Yes, Aang knows.
The Avatar mourns alone in white garments. Married young, they were—adorned in red, as tradition goes. In the tapestry, they look ready to run.
Aang can no longer stand that color—nor the vibrant blue of intense flames that permeate his (their) bed chamber.
"He's nothing but a child," Zuko chastises. "We can't win."
"At least he doesn't act like one all the time," Katara spits and glares bitter, icy daggers at the prince.
By now? Yes, Aang is no longer a child.
No. Now, the Avatar is just in a tenuous wedding pact with Toph's murderer.
He gazes at the trail of wetness smeared across his knuckles.
"C'mon, Twinkle Toes. We need to g—"
A triumphant smirk greets familiar tears.
"I ca—I c-can't see!"
"It'll be alright—you'll see. Spirits, stop crying."
Stop crying.
"Stop crying," Azula says.
He tells himself lies until Toph's voice is no longer there.
It's just a piece of fabric, Aang.
Author's Note: In traditional Chinese weddings, it is a custom to wear red; I'm not sure if it's a custom in China or elsewhere, but white was worn at Azulon's funeral in the show.