A/N. This will be dark (as much as I can make it while staying in character), with lots of angst, inner reflection and soothing tea, the latter two of which are served daily at daybreak by Iroh. This is an experiment for me in writing the Zuko x Katara pairing in a way that isn't a parody, so updates will be rather slow at first.
Prologue
The Avatar stood under a star-like canopy of paper lanterns that seemed to float in the air, their thin gossamer strings nearly invisible in the haze of their collective glow. To his side, the young Firelord, bedecked from head to toe in a handsome crimson robe, held aloft a giant scroll filled to the brim with the innumerable vows that characterized Fire Nation weddings, those of nobility more so than most. After a moment, the Firelord finished reading and nodded with a sly, knowing grin to the Avatar, who could barely contain his excitement despite his outwards stoic appearance.
Across from the Avatar, a woman with an imperceptible smile and a silk veil covering her delicate features stood with her head tilted slightly down, a nervous excitement visible only to a few dancing across her eyes as her husband gently pulled the veil over her head.
To the side and behind a cluster of foreign dignitaries, Roku began to answer Aang's bewildered question.
"Ta Min," Roku clarified, a slight shift in his voice belying the knot of emotions underneath. "I was persistent. When love is real, it finds a way."
Aang didn't, couldn't respond to that. His own doubts and inhibitions seemed to pale in comparison to the weight of Roku's confidence. How can he be so sure?
After a short pause, Roku then encouraged the young airbender with a rather absentminded comment added more as an afterthought than anything else. "And being the Avatar doesn't hurt your chances with the ladies either."
One Year Later
Taking the place of the Avatar in his vision, Aang stood before the gathered crowd of assembled wedding guests and the hubbub of conversation emanating from them, all while keeping a now well-practiced smile etched onto his lips. Everything seemed to be as Roku had shown him, from the rows and rows of attendees to the fragrant incense burning in the urns scattered about the room, and, most importantly, the floating lanterns. Those were absolutely essential for the success of the entire endeavor.
Bewilderingly, with all of the preparations completed and the conversation beginning to die down, the Avatar only sighed deeply instead of showing even a single iota of joy.
If anyone had heard it they would've thought the gesture rude and inconsiderate, but the Avatar concealed his unhappiness with an old airbending trick. He couldn't let anyone know his true feelings about the matter, or else it might wind up like the last wedding the Avatar and the Firelord had attended together so many years ago.
He hadn't asked to do this but he knew he couldn't refuse. Not when it was his duty.
Duty, the persistently meddlesome force in his life that pushed and pulled him like the girl he couldn't help but love, treasure every moment with, and spend countless hours dreaming fondly about...
Correction, loved.
Some things would have to end if he was to keep his sanity.
Personally, it was a miracle far greater than his defeat of Ozai that he had arrived at this point without completely losing both his mental and airbending marbles or lashing out in unrestrained anger, but now the familiar, long-suppressed tendrils of a dozen bitter emotions were latching onto his unshakable affection for her that he knew existed, still unbroken by the ordeals and tests of the past year, in the deepest recesses of his soul.
He had certainly tried his best to move on, but every moment that might've been something else was instead marred by memories of her musical laughter or her gentle smile or some other of the uncountable tidbits of her that he held dear, and whatever he had been doing would invariably be relegated to the back of his mind as he wildly, futilely longed for what could never be and desperately clung to the hope that there was still time for everything to change.
In between the fits of heartache when he had some semblance of lucidity, he had examined himself to see if his feelings had diminished even minutely, only to come to the same depressing conclusion.
Even if he was miserable almost all the time, he knew he should've been happy for her.
Instead however, Aang wanted to drop his forced euphoria at the historic symbolism of the occasion. For well over a century, the Avatar had been conspicuously absent from the weddings of successive generations of the Fire Nation royal family starting from Azulon down to Ozai.
Now that the chance was presented to him he didn't actually want any part of it.
Truth be told, he was feeling every bit of his age as he stood there in front of the row of Fire Sages. He still had literally nothing in this world besides himself, Appa and a ransack collection of clothes and personal items that could fit in the smallest rice sack of a drought-stricken village's afternoon market.
And all he wanted to run away from what little he did have.
Aang knew what had happened the first time he had run away from his life, and now, he knew, he was paying the price for his absence. All the anguish and pain he should've been feeling while he had been mercifully, unconsciously frozen would now be repaid in full, with interest, over the remaining span of his life, each agonizing moment of pain a lesson in regret and shame.
Needless to say, he felt that he had no real reason to stick around any longer, and he had eagerly imagined the bliss and peace that escape would bring, whatever the consequences.
But hie knew he could never do it. He felt disgusted for even considering it.
The world still needed him.
They still needed them.
But who were they?
What he had thought of as friendship had unceremoniously dissolved into an unending pity parade, replete with blaringly untrue and insultingly false reassurances, not to mention the ubiquitous comfort hug and reassuring pat on the back. Gone were the people he thought he knew; or perhaps he had never known them at all. Everyone had always said that he was too young and naive to comprehend the reality of war...and love.
Now everyone and everything was moving on even as he clung desperately to his hope as the last refuge to find a semblance of purpose and grounding, not caring whether it was real or imagined.
However, such thoughts invariably led down the depthless well of self-pity that had swallowed him whole, bones and all, on more than one occasion, and it would soon be time to address the betrothed couple as they ascended the pedestal. He hadn't figured that part out yet when the groom stepped to the left of the stage and promptly swiveled to face the empty spot opposite him.
Aang ignored the anxious expression on Zuko's face and bowed respectfully, his gesture full of the formality that was already starting to set in before the wedding had even truly began.
"Firelord Zuko." Aang tilted his head downwards and bowed slightly.
"Aang." Zuko nodded, his voice surprisingly quiet and somber.
Zuko at least had a convenient title, one that Aang had already gotten used to. Now would be as good a time as any to start with Katara, who had just stepped onto the platform across from Zuko.
Aang mentally corrected himself before continuing, smothering his grimace with a painfully transparent smile. He turned towards the bride.
To say she looked radiant would be a horrendous understatement. Even against a backdrop of a thousand glowing lanterns, she positively glowed like the full moon on a cloudless night. Her eyes were absurdly captivating in a way that he had never quite gotten used to, even after two years.
Aang gulped and shut his eyes, bowing slightly so he could crack them open a pitiful smidgen to look at the ornate tiling beneath his feet.
"Lady Katara."
Katara frowned at that.
"You know you can just call me Ka-"
Aang looked away sharply, trying not to create a scene but unwilling to show any of the affection he still felt for her.
"Don't," he warned softly, but there was an underlying edge to his voice that Katara recognized immediately. She gave up and turned back toward Zuko, who seemed to be brooding deeply in his own thoughts, especially given an occasion as joyous and carefree as a wedding. After a moment he looked up and smiled reassuringly at her.
The rest of the wedding passed by in a hazy blur. After his greeting, Aang moved back and allowed the Fire Sages to take over. Never before had he been so grateful for their presence, for it allowed him time to think through his next decision carefully.
It would be merely another small sacrifice on his part for the good of the world, and the first one that he was more than willing to give. At least that was what he kept telling himself.
He felt like he had already lost everything he had ever cared about. Granted, seeing her married off to another man didn't mean that she was lost to him. His love for his people, Gyatso most of all, had transcended their deaths, even if their spirits had been carried off by the winds to some other place.
It was completely different, however, when the subject of one's attentions was present but withheld the type of love that was sought. Love unrequited can only last for so long; even the brightest flame cannot burn forever if it is left unfueled.
Ironically, when presented with the choice more than a year ago, he had chosen to risk death rather than let go of her. It was truly amazing in a grim and terrifying way how quickly some things could change.
Soon it was time for the final part of the wedding ceremony, the one small part that had been omitted for over a hundred years. Aang stepped forward past the line of Fire Sages to perform it.
As he looked down and began reciting a rather verbose rendition of the Blessing of the Spirits with his palms pressed together, his gaze met hers as she looked up for some undecipherable reason, and he couldn't help but think back nostalgically to a time when the future had seemed impossibly bright and hopeful, before everything between them had begun to unravel.
"I know sometimes it hurts more to hope and it hurts more to care, but you have to promise me that you won't stop caring."
It was at that moment that he knew he had to let go of her forever. It hurt too, too much to care.
A single, silvery tear escaped his downcast eyes, reflecting in its deceptively tranquil sheen a bottomless sea of sorrow that had frozen him in ice a century ago and would do so again...forever.