Zuko has always been proud of Fire Nation traditions. In the five years since the end of the war, his pride has only grown with each passing treaty between his nation and the other three. It hasn't been easy. Hundred-year long prejudices aren't simply plucked overnight because Fire Lord Ozai's reign has ended. Distrust for the Fire Nation still runs rampant to this day but had reached a culminating peak of hostility directly after Zuko's coronation. Even amongst his people, there has been mistrust. Being the progeny of Ozai and the blood sibling of Azula only made people, rightly, wonder if he might not fall down similar darkened paths. It isn't a fear that strays far from his own mind either. His uncle's words still ring in his ear after all these years:
"Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko. It is in your nature, your legacy."
But Zuko's firm, unfailing belief in the tradition and strength of his people compel him to stand tall with his head held high. Beneath the destruction, beneath all the rubble left behind a war that went on for far too long, are a people who revere honour. People who believe in equality. For them, Zuko is willing to tide over the arguments, the tedious meetings and obstinate talks with diplomats and advisors, if only to bring a small amount of peace back to his nation.
Slowly, piece by piece, the Fire Nation has begun to regain its footing in the world. Soldiers have returned home to their families. Fallen, neglected districts have been rebuilt and new jobs are being created on the daily. Even the infuriating disputes over colonised lands have for the most part been met with less strain and animosity than they had been at the start.
Things are finally beginning to feel right again. Even the traditional Fire Nation Festival has started its travels around the country again, and although it has no further need to stray beyond their islands, the festival still attracts tourists from all over. It speaks more highly of the progress with which they have all come to than the diplomatic talks Zuko attends every couple of months.
Needless to say, Zuko is proud, and he will always have the utmost respect for their traditions and ways of life.
But with all things, there are exceptions. In particular, Zuko has one very simple exception that has his teeth on edge, fingers flexing tightly at his sides trying to stem the fire threatening to burst free, as if he is still the thirteen-year-old banished prince.
"Fire Sage Shyu," Zuko warns with a steely glint of amber eyes. "I assure you this is not necessary."
"I apologise, your majesty." The older man bows his head. "But it is tradition. To break it would bear a lifetime of ill fortune upon you and your family."
Zuki pinches the bridge of his nose. As Fire Lord, he has learnt to keep his temper contained until he is in the privacy of his own suites, or at the very least engaged in his daily sparring practice. It is a well-learned trait that has made him a more respectable figure amongst his people and foreign dignitaries. A lapse in judgement on his part can cause irrevocable damage to his reputation as a leader. With that in mind, Zuko is finding it increasingly difficult to reign in his irritation. He has known for some time this might come up but he had hoped for a day, not a week. That is too long; far too long for his liking.
"Surely there is no need for such a lengthy separation," Zuko tries again, but the serious, unflinching look upon the old man's face tells him it is to no avail. "Will I at least get to say goodbye before you and the Fire Sages inflict this archaic tradition on us?"
"I am afraid, your majesty, that our plans have already been put into action." Fire Sage Shyu has the decency to lower his gaze, a faint hint of remorse behind yellow eyes. Zuko is about to verbally berate the older man when he speaks again, softly now, as if there are ears pressed up against the door to the Fire Lord's private study. "But I hear there has been a delay with the palanquin. It is truly unfortunate for they have barely reached the plaza."
Without a single word to the Fire Sage, Zuko has pushed open the door to his study and raced down the corridors in a manner most unfitting his title, but a voice in the back of his mind that sounds vaguely like his uncle says that when she's concerned, he has never acted reasonably.
Servants and guards gawk at their Fire Lord as tendrils of black hair loosen from his top knot, whipping against his face. The heavy formal robes of the Fire Lord is a weight Zuko desperately wants to discard, only for the sake of moving faster, but even in his flustered state, he still has some semblance of control over his propriety.
Just as he reaches the gates to the palace, he sees it. The red and gold palanquin is set to one side as several royal guards try to fix the broken ornamental peak of the palanquin's roof. Her dark hair is billowing behind her in a gentle breeze, a deep frown settled on her dark skin. Zuko calls her name and blue eyes snap to his in an instant. A soft sigh escapes his lip, and he distantly wonders if he will ever tire of the way a simple look from her can send his blood burning like lava in his veins. He desperately hopes not.
"Zuko, what are you doing here?" Her tone is relieved but no less confused. She still wraps her arms around his neck, embracing him tightly, when he stops in front of her.
"I came to say goodbye," Zuko says, voice muffled by the positioning of his head in the soft curls of her hair. Lifting his lips only slightly, he murmurs in her ear. "The night before we wed, the Fire Nation Festival will begin their tour of Caldera City."
She chuckles into him. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting? Should we not respect your nation's traditions?"
"If you think I can survive without seeing you for a week then you perhaps do not know me at all, waterbender."
Katara angles her head and places an openmouthed kiss to the hollow of his neck, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Zuko. She exhales softly against his skin as she says, "oh, I know you better than you know yourself."
"Is that so?" Though she cannot see, Zuko's lips twitch upwards into a characteristic smirk. "Then on the eve of our wedding, meet me where the stars shine the brightest."
A strangled cough breaks their embrace. It would seem the guards have managed to fix the broken palanquin and are now urging Katara back into its confines. Where they're taking her is a secret, and even as Fire Lord, Zuko knows better than to ask, but before she steps fully away from him, Katara presses her lips against him. It's quick, and from an outside glance, would look like nothing more than a besotted woman bidding her betrothed a hasty goodbye. But the pressure in which Katara presses against him, her body flushed to his chest so that he could feel every curve and line of her body, Zuko knows it's much more than a goodbye kiss; it's a promise.
The rest of the week passes by in an agonisingly slow procession of meetings and preparations. It only grows more weary when the guests start to arrive a couple days before the wedding. Zuko's patience runs even thinner than normal without Katara by his side. She is the reason he has learnt it at all. In fact, the headstrong ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe is why the Fire Nation has flourished in recent years. It is the reason why the Fire Sages have been so accommodating to a foreign future Fire Lady. Her wisdom and insight has been crucial to the rebuilding of their country, and Katara's frequent, almost daily visits into the city to speak to the people has endeared her to the masses.
But while Zuko loves her for all of those traits as well, it's her impact on him that makes her invaluable. She challenges him, in more ways than one. Through her, Zuko has learned to accept and broaden his views of the world, more than they have already been during the war, and it is through her, Zuko has learned the true meaning of friendship, partnership, and love. Quite simply put, without her, he is also without a vital, necessary part of himself.
So it is the thought of seeing her, even if for just one short moment, before the chaos of their wedding day that keeps Zuko from lashing out. Even when Sokka shows up in his private study to sit him down for a stern talking to about his intentions towards Katara, Zuko doesn't even fling the water tribe man into the wall. It apparently means nothing to Sokka that Zuko and Katara have been practically living together for the past two years, but then he supposes that aside from his personal staff, no one really knows about that. Katara still has her own suite down in the guest wing but since they started dating, Zuko can't remember her ever sleeping there.
Aside from that one time they couldn't get to the royal wing fast enough… their clothes lying discarded like a trail of crumbs on the floor… her hot mouth on the underside of his jaw… her body pressed underneath him…
Zuko shifts uncomfortably in his seat and stares ahead with as much control as he can muster. This is the longest they have gone without being with each other. He is certainly feeling the repercussions of her absence in his bed.
"Wow, Sparky, you getting cold feet or something? Your heart is beating like buzzard wasp." The earthbender is looking to the right of Zuko's face and there is an undisguised quirk of amusement on her lips. She may not be able to see his scowl but he does not doubt she can feel it.
"Cold feet? You better not get cold feet! That's my sister! If you leave her at the altar, I swear I'll–"
"I assure you, Sokka," Zuko says with a warning growl. "I have no intention of leaving your sister now or ever."
"Well, good. You better not." Sokka's shoulders slump, the fight leaving him, and in its place an awkward sheepish smile. His wife sighs wearily beside the man, her hands pressed protectively around her rounded belly. Zuko had been flabbergasted at first to see how far along Suki is but the more he is around her company, the more he can't stop himself from imagining Katara in a similar state. She would be a great mother.
Finally, the dinner winds to an end. They have been diligently dividing their time between Katara and him, and are thankfully too tired for any nighttime recaps. As Zuko bids his friends goodnight, he heads back to his bed chambers. Now that it is the eve of his wedding, Zuko quickly dresses himself in the familiar black garb. The Fire Nation Festival began their first day of entertainment today, and just as Zuko had suspected, the entire palace was abuzz with activity and excitement. It is the perfect time, the only time he's had this week, to slip out with his Blue Spirit mask on, unseen by the guards or servants. It isn't normally this hard but the Fire Sages having, rightfully, suspected Zuko and Katara might try something like this have placed nearly round-the-clock surveillance on the couple. At least on Zuko's end, he has been unable to find a moment's peace outside his own chambers. Thankfully, tonight there are enough distractions to allow him to slip out into the city unseen.
He lithely moves from roof to roof, hidden in the shadows. It does not take him too long to reach the parapet of a religious temple. Dropping down, Zuko smiles beneath his mask.
"You're late." She is faced away from him, her hands placed firmly on the wall. She is similarly dressed in black garb, and though he can't see her face, he suspects there's red paint around her eyes. His Painted Lady.
"Our friends talk too much but I'll get rid of them tomorrow," Zuko says with his slight smirk, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her so her back is leaning against his chest. He breathes in her wonderful scent: a mixture of sea salt and soap. She chuckles against his chest and places her hands over where his lie just flat on her abdomen. Zuko kisses her shoulder and sighs against her. "I've missed you."
"I know. I've missed you too," she says, mirroring his sigh with one of her own. "If you weren't Fire Lord, I would've suggested we just elope."
"If I wasn't Fire Lord, I would've proposed two years ago."
Katara chuckles again. She then turns in his arms so she's looking up at him. With a quick flick of her wrist, the mask clatters onto the ground. "I've missed this face," she says quietly, gentle fingers tracing his scar. She leans up and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "I've missed those lips."
Zuko sighs again but the sound is content, happy, elated. He wraps her tightly against his chest and returns his lips back down on hers with a little more intent behind his movements. When he pulls back, they're both breathing a little harder. "I've missed something else."
"Oh yeah?" Katara asks with a knowing smirk of her own.
"Yeah."
Zuko deftly runs his fingers down her back to the hem of her tunic. He kisses her again while his hands dip underneath and feel her cool skin beneath his palms. She is far too intoxicating for this to be an innocent rendezvous, and though he might not agree with being separated from his betrothed for an entire week prior to their wedding, Zuko still respects Fire Nation traditions. So it is with great reluctance that he does pull back and leave a gap between their bodies that wasn't there before.
"I should go," he says with no small amount of anguish and frustration in his voice. "Any longer and Fire Sage Shyu might send the royal army after us."
"Hmm," Katara agrees with a disappointed murmur. "But tomorrow night, Fire Lord Zuko, you're mine." She fingers the collar of his tunic and tugs gently, a slow burning heat in her gaze that has him debating whether or not he should just forego tradition altogether. "All mine."
"I hope that's a promise, Fire Lady Katara."
Katara smirks, and then with swift movements, she jumps down onto an adjacent roof, disappearing into the shadows.
A swell of pride grows in his chest as he stares after her. Tomorrow, that beautiful, strong, kind-hearted minx will be his wife. Agni, what did he ever do to deserve her?