chapter: ashes after the flames
setting: the fire nation, six years after the end of the war.
disclaimer: I own nothing.
author's notes: yay I'm back! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you'll love it too!
Today, Iroh did not go to the princess's room alone. His companion had not come with him in years, and he was silent; keeping himself cloaked and unassuming on the walk to the chi blocking therapy ward. It had been constructed for both Ozai and Azula almost seven years ago now, but Ozai had not survived the first six months.
He had choked himself with his own chi blocking chains, choosing for his last act to be one of violence.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Zuko muttered from behind his hood, keeping his head bowed as they walked through the entrance and the gardens that decorated the grounds.
"I've been purposefully staying away from her. I think my presence agitates her." He added, his voice thin and tight with stress. Iroh sighed a little.
"I understand that you're trying not to go through what happened three years ago when you came to tell her of Mai's death, but I promise, she's improved." He spoke quietly, so that the nurses at the front desk were not startled by their appearance. They welcomed the two visitors and lead them down the hall to Azula's quarters.
Zuko fiddled with the buttons on his jacket as they unlocked her door, trying not to imagine what had happened the last time he'd seen his estranged sister.
The whole place was on fire, dancing with blue and orange flames. Azula stood tall and commanding in the center of the inferno, her smile a slash against her pale face, her hands free of chains-
"I knew you would be the death of her, Zuzu. I knew you would crush her like a flower under your heel." She screeched at her brother, not even seeming to mind that her linen shift was black and singed at the edges.
-and Zuko, stricken by grief and overcome by emotion, barely managed to fend her off as he roared unintelligibly in her direction. He had no words; no articulations. There was only pure hatred in his eyes, burning along with the rest of the building.
He managed to back her into a corner where the doctors were waiting with sedatives and chi blocking cuffs, and they managed to expel the flames quickly.
But he never managed to quite recover from it.
Azula was as quiet as she had ever been, sitting nearly motionless in her usual seat by the window. Her bony fingers played with the ends of her hair, knotting the already tangled strands over and over again. The room was swathed in flowers and lanterns at Iroh's request, and a cup of tea sat untouched on the arm of her chair, simmering until it cooled.
The room was otherwise empty and undecorated, besides a few rugs on the floor and her bed, pushed to the side of the room. A chi blocking cuff encased one of her ankles, but she hardly seemed to feel it. Or anything, really.
"Good morning, princess." Iroh smiled at her, lifting his hand to pick up the brush he usually used to comb through her hair. She didn't respond; as he expected. The cloaked figure next to him stiffened slightly as her eyes searched the room, sliding over him in a dizzying way.
"It's okay, Zuko. She won't recognize you." Iroh murmured, stroking the brush bristles through the unkempt strands of dark hair. Zuko only moved his hood off of his face and crossed his arms tightly over his chest, frowning to himself.
Azula only hummed a strange tune under her breath, notes that didn't fall into a sequence, and continued to stare out of the window.
After a few minutes that stretched on eternally, Azula finished her humming and glanced down at the teacup as if seeing it for the first time. A smile cracked her vacant expression, a harsh, high pitched giggle teeming from her lips. With that, she gave the cup a little push, letting it shatter on the floor.
She seemed to like the destruction.
"Isn't it pretty, Zuzu?" She addressed Zuko directly, looking right at him. Startled, the Fire Lord stumbled a little before yanking his hood back over his face.
"I can't do this, Iroh." He muttered, the words acerbic. Iroh looked shocked enough as it was that the princess had actually spoken, let alone been aware of someone's presence. He was powerless to stop the Fire Lord from sweeping out of the door, his cloak billowing behind him. As soon as he had vanished, Azula returned to rocking and humming to herself, ignorant of the smashed teacup.
The next few days passed by Katara in a beautiful blur. A few nobles were starting to warm to her, and as much as she disliked conversation about fashion and children and marriage, she didn't mind some of their company.
However, nearly all of them were bent on insulting her through tight smiles and murmurings of concubine when her back was turned. Several referenced the late Lady Mai, speaking wolfishly about how her very memory was being disrespected by having this water tribe trash in these halls. This was often accompanied by a quick sigh of displeasure and immediate, anxious fanning.
The first time this had happened, Katara had snapped. All of the water goblets and vases had exploded in the room, showering all the noblewomen with water droplets. A horrified silence had fallen over them as they assessed their melting face powder and ruined gowns, and she stood, fuming over her meal for a moment before deciding to exit (less-than) gracefully.
After that, they continued to talk; just in private rather than in front of her.
That night, she and Zuko had argued for the first time in weeks. His face had turned red with irritation as soon as she walked into his office, and after she shut the door behind her, a furious "How could you?" erupted from his mouth.
After an hour of quick back-and-forth and snappy comments, Katara flippantly pushed her way from the room, noting that she didn't have to stay in a Nation where she was disrespected and insulted-
There were flowers on her bed that night.
Most of the time, she spent her afternoons conversing with scullery maids in doorways about the best way to clean Fire Nation linens and how on earth they could stand the spices that they seemed to pour into their food by the bucketload.
She wore the necklace and the ring only in private; Zuko had not yet announced their engagement officially. Some of the nobles that slept with his advisors knew that she was being groomed for Fire Lady, and Katara took special pleasure in the knowledge that these pretty, cruel looking women were bedding old men for a few handfuls of jewels.
It was not something she wanted announced. She knew it was terrible of her; but her fear of Aang's return was crushing. Sometimes, she could imagine the dismay on his face as he came home to realize she was engaged. There was a small, soft piece of her heart that felt for the younger boy, and remembered him as the sweetly innocent child from her teenage years. His big almond eyes would pool with tears when he found out, and she would feel as if she just took his favorite toy away.
But a part of her, a more calloused, scarred part, feared him and his retribution.
Her etiquette teacher remained cool and distant throughout their next lesson, but she taught her about entrances and how to properly curtsy at the beginning of a ball.
Her dance teacher complimented how fast she had learned several of the dances and was letting her practice them on her own, without instruction. He played traditional music through their practices now; and asked her to envision herself in a large ballroom as opposed to their small, mirror-lined studio.
It seemed as if she was being groomed for something happening in the near future, she felt, something no one had spoken to her about yet.
It made her stomach squirm enough that people watched her on a daily basis, now. She hated feeling out of the loop, feeling as if even the tight, powdered faces of the noblewomen seemed to know something she didn't. It made her carve half-moon indentations into her hands with nerves while she walked through the halls, sometimes, and she had taken to carrying stones from the shores of her village in her pockets to keep her grounded.
Luckily, Zuko had started asking her to dinner with him every night; sometimes publicly, to show off the elaborate gowns that had now populated her closet, and sometimes privately.
In private, she had taken to wearing blue robes that he had ordered to be made for her, and her warrior bracelets clattered along her wrists. She felt like herself in his presence; even when she was wearing red.
That particular evening was a private dinner in his quarters. He had ordered something simple for the two of them as they poured over several contracting files he needed to sign so that they could tear down a statue of Ozai. Katara sipped at a cup of sake casually, the papers splayed out over her tanned legs.
"This makes little to no sense to me sometimes, I swear." Zuko sighed in agitation, running his hands through his shoulder-length hair. The locks were glossy; Katara wondered vaguely what he put in it to make it look so shiny.
"I understand what they're trying to do. They're trying to manipulate you and make it as beneficial for themselves as possible." Katara quipped, scowling deeply at the paper before taking another swig of her drink.
She had been attending meetings with Iroh for several weeks now, and he had given her several thick volumes to educate her on the delicacies of Fire Nation law and tradition that she had poured over endlessly.
Everything about their culture- from their traditions to the way they prepared for war- was different and new to her. The only similarities between the Water Tribe and the Fire Nation were their problems; their sexism, racism, and constant economical struggles.
Zuko hadn't known about these meetings, of course, and she hoped that her hard-won knowledge would make him proud.
"Well, of course. They're nobles, that's what they do. Are you ready for our first council meeting in the morning?" Zuko peered at her from over the papers in his hands, and she shrugged.
"How bad can it be?" She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and took another long sip of her drink. Zuko laughed once, the sound harsh and sarcastic. The sound jarred her, and she jumped, eyes wide as she nearly spilled her drink on herself.
"They're like animals. Greedy, carnivorous, and ready to jump on you when you show the slightest sign of weakness." Zuko put the papers down, circling a section he didn't agree with and dusting his hands off with a a sigh.
Katara pursed her lips but didn't speak, one eyebrow raised. This was his game, and as much as she loved a good challenge, it was becoming clear that she needed to learn the rules first.
"It's not like a fight," He elaborated, one hand scraping through his hair in slight frustration.
"You can't use your bending or your strength. You have to use your wits and your cleverness to get them to concede, and even then, you have to watch your back." There was a tinge of bitterness in his words, and Katara glanced up at him, nodding once so that he knew she was listening.
She could see the deep circles under his eyes now, the lines that were furrowed into his forehead. His hands were folded in an effort to appear calm, but they shook somewhat; and if she stared, she could see how white his knuckles were.
"Are you able to reelect any of them? I know that there must be some high ranking officials that you respect." Katara questioned, curious, wondering at the state of his government. Clearly, the system was corrupt; but was it possible for him to root out the poison?
It was different under each Fire Lord, from what she had been able to grasp. Ozai's rule had not been documented yet in the thick scrolls of the library; and she sometimes wondered if, under Zuko, it ever would be.
Zuko blew a long sigh from his pressed lips, shaking his head once.
"They have to live out their terms, first. For most of them, under my father's rule, it was grandfathered into the system that his favorite officials were elected for life," He stared past her, his eyes glazed from exhaustion.
"They hardly ever listen to reason. It's almost like you have to manipulate them and barter with them to get what is most beneficial for the city, rather than for them personally." Zuko raked his hand through his hair again, and Katara reached across the space between them to grasp his wrist gently in her hand. She could see the bruised circles that rimmed his amber-honey eyes, the irises darkened with weariness. The tension and anxiety was practically seeping from him, spreading through his body like a disease.
"Stop," She said quietly, pulling his hand into hers and folding her fingers over his.
"There are two of us now, Zuko. You're not alone in this fight any longer." She bent over his hand to kiss it once.
He paused for a moment, staring down at her as if he couldn't quite believe she had done that.
Physical affection was not something that came easily to the Fire Lord; and even if he had stolen a few kisses in his time, it was rare that someone bestowed that kind of simple love to him freely.
Her lips grazed his palm a second time before she looked up at him with a slight smile on her face and returned to her reading. He remained mute, wordlessly thankful for her presence.
They spent the rest of the night largely in silence, every now and then quietly smiling at each other or asking for help with the language they were using. Zuko carefully explained things to Katara in a measured, patient way that she could only marvel at.
Where was the boy that she had grown up with? His short temper, his eye-rolls, his deep emotions?
Sometimes it was all she could do not to stare in awe at the man before her that spoke so beautifully and calculated his every move. There were flashes of his temper sometimes, when his eyes glowed a bright, burning yellow, molten and fiery. But most days, he would take a long, slow breath, and the flames would retreat.
She had been in the Fire Nation a little over two months, and the easy way that their friendship had mended itself was soothing. A quiet sort of affection had blossomed between the two of them, something neither of them had expected; but both of them had unknowingly fostered.
The hurt that had been wrongly dealt to them in the years they had been apart was healing, and they were able to speak to each others souls as they once had.
Katara often thought to herself that this was how things should have been all along.
"It seems like it's nice enough outside for a walk, doesn't it?" Zuko said softly, disturbing the quiet that had fallen over them like a blanket. Katara glanced up, startled, before nodding in reply. He stood to stretch, his limbs languid as he yawned and reached like a tiger. Yellow-gold eyes dancing in the firelight, he extended his hand to her.
She shuffled the papers on her lap together and put them to the side, taking the offered hand and rising to her feet to shake out the cramps in her legs.
Zuko's fingers were rough with callouses. He had worked so hard already in his lifetime, a trait that Katara admired about him.
"The turtleduck pond is always quiet this time of night. I think I've got some bread to feed them with. Not that they need it, the spoiled little things." He chuckled, reaching into a cabinet by the door to the gardens to pull forth a small bag of crumbs.
The velvet bag was monogrammed with a 'U', and when Katara stared at it, he tinged pink around the ears and looked away.
It was Ursa's. Katara had been noticing small details around his quarters for the past few weeks that alluded to the vanished Fire Lady; a painting, a comb, and now this.
She wanted to reach out to him and touch him, to skim her fingertips along the length of his jaw in an attempt to explain to him that it was okay to miss her. It had been a lifetime since she had last seen her mother, and she felt her absence every day.
They walked together along the garden path for a few quiet moments before he finally spoke.
"Azula used to love the turtleducks. Mother would take the two of us to the pond in the mornings to feed them,"
He gestured to the little bag in his hands.
"And we'd play little games with them. That was the last time I saw Azula smile- really smile. Not smirk or scoff or frown. She was my little sister, then. Someone I protected and looked after." Staring off across the manicured lawn, his expression cool and unreadable, Katara wondered at the guilt that must have dwelled in him. When he looked down at her, his eyes were swelling with a heavy sadness.
"It's okay to miss her, isn't it?" He murmured, standing at the base of the pond with both hands clutching the little red bag.
She leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling him relax against her.
"Of course, Zuko." Her voice was soft, matching the velvet darkness of the world around them. Quietly, she reached into the bag, scattering a handful of stale, golden breadcrumbs across the glassy surface of the water.
The little turtle ducks came paddling frantically across the pond towards her, their slumber woken by the scent of treats.
"I seem to repel women. They all leave, don't they?" He laughed then, a mirthless chuckle.
"First my mother, then Azula, and finally Mai. Am I truly that difficult to love?" Zuko seemed to be speaking to himself in that moment, stirring the surface of the water with the tips of his fingers lazily.
Katara's arms around his torso reminded him gently that no, he was not.
How scarred his heart is, Katara mused to herself, how he aches for affection.
Arms looped around each other, Katara let her head rest on his heart, listening to the constant beat and the movement of his breath.
After a time, he leaned his chin on top of her head and let himself relax against her frame. They stood like that, motionless, until the clock began to chime.
And even then, they didn't quite let go of each other.
They moved through the halls of the palace soundlessly, Katara's arm looped through Zuko's. When they stopped at her door, he removed himself, facing her. Once he was separated from her, a chill raised goosebumps along her arms.
As they were saying goodnight, Zuko instructed her on how to conduct herself in their meeting the next morning.
"They will respect you more if you remain quiet at first. I know how hard that is for you," He noted, seeing the face that she pulled.
"But remember that most of these men expect women to speak only when spoken to. In their eyes, women are decorative objects; they will not respect your opinion or your voice." Zuko eyed her seriously, before reaching forward to grasp her hand in his.
"I'm used to sexism. It's rampant in my tribe." Katara noted, letting her fingers lazily curl around his. Zuko nodded once, stepping a little closer to the girl with a warning in his eyes.
"They will not take kindly to mouthiness. Every move they make is steeped in tradition, and unfortunately, many of them disagree with my choice in who I desire to marry." His voice was a low, rasping whisper now, and he eyed the halls around them suspiciously, as if he were afraid they were being overheard. She lifted her other hand to cup his chin in her palm, pulling his gaze back to her.
"Don't worry so much, Zuko. I've taken the time to understand your laws and traditions. And I only happen to be the second most stubborn person in the room, following you." Katara drawled, a smile teasing at the corner of her mouth. His lips curved in a smile at her words, and even the scarred side of his face wrinkled a little in mirth.
"You're going to be fine. I promise. Try to get some sleep." Zuko murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to her cheek. He lingered there a moment longer than usual, his warmth surrounding her, his hands moving up her arms to cup her face gently with his calloused palms. Her eyes closed languidly; she let herself lean into him.
"Goodnight."
When he was gone, a rush of cold air accompanied her sudden loneliness. She stared after him, at his red robes swirling behind him as he vanished into the shadows, and wished on a whim that he might've stayed.
La, Katara! You've barely been here three months and you're already acting like a teenager. Her cheeks pinked as she chastised herself for the thought, and she hurried into her room to escape the chilliness of the hall.
It was in moments like this, when she was completely alone, that she marveled at the gravity of her situation. Years of separation, and yet, in mere months she was staring after him like she used to when the war had ended. It had not taken long for her heart to quicken in his presence, for her cheeks to warm, her stomach to clench. The warrior princess had been ready to slap him with the biggest water whip she could conjure when Iroh had told her of their impending engagement, ready to march her stubborn ass back onto the boat and back to the snowy lands she came from.
But now, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
It made her dizzy how quickly these things had happened. But, she supposed, this was all in very typical Zuko fashion. He never did anything slowly; never did anything blandly. He was all passion, all fire; and when he looked at her, all she could feel was love.
Love. La. She repeated the word to herself, swearing a little under her breath at how stiff the word was. She hadn't used it towards anyone in a long time, and so she dusted it off in her mind, letting the word fill her for a moment.
She felt it when he glanced at her with feline eyes filled with devilish laughter at dinner as they made fun of the nobles; when they sat in complete silence in his chambers.
When they spoke of pain that no one else could understand, shadows that lurked within them that others did not have.
Yes, she knew that she cared for him. Deeply, even. But yet, the word did not seem quite strong enough to express the attachment growing inside of her. How could someone else even begin to imagine the losses they had suffered?
A barking laugh escaped her as she unpinned her hair and faced herself in the mirror. How silly, how naive she had been to imagine that the Avatar would know the secrets of her soul.
How could she have known as a fourteen year old girl what it meant? Aside from her family, she had never known the emotion. Aang had been like a younger brother, someone she had trusted and admired and looked after. She could have been content with him, with his boyish smiles and constant playfulness. But contentment was not something to aspire for. And he had lost himself along the way.
It was in these quiet, dark moments, when her room was still and silent and the lights were dimmed that she curled into herself on the bed, clutching her knees to her chest and pressing her forehead against the boniness. She cried for Aang, for his childish, unknowing soul, and for how he had lost his innocence. She cried for her family and for how much she missed them, for the years they had been separated, and the years they would be apart still.
The waterbender cried for herself and the world that had shattered around her.
And now, she thought of Zuko in the silence of the early evening, and thought of how pained his eyes had looked when he had confessed Mai's infidelity. She thought of his suffering and his scars; those visible and those hidden. And she shed a tear for him, too.
A piece of her heart was now his; and she prayed to both of their gods that they would take care of each other.
She rose early, the rays of sunlight filtering in through the curtains and making it impossible for her to concentrate on her sleepiness any longer. Her hair was a mess of tangles and her eyes rimmed with dark circles; what would the nobles make of her today?
But she dressed in blue robes all the same and braided her hair, standing out on her balcony to practice a few bending exercises and wondered briefly if Zuko was training this morning.
Iroh was the first to knock at her door. He came bearing three new maids and a tray of food; an enormous pile of fabric and several jars of cosmetics. His smile was broad and welcoming and she let them in, taking a long, deep breath to steady herself for her day ahead.
She trusted him unequivocally; and they sat together quietly in the sunshine of the early morning with twin cups of earl grey. He felt very familiar to her, a presence that always made her feel safe.
"Today will be very difficult for you, Lady Katara." Iroh noted, gingerly sipping from his cup. She sighed, playing with the ends of her hair and placing her cup down.
"I know. I just hope that no matter what happens, I can hold my own." She toyed with the silver bracelets on her arm longingly, knowing that she'd have to take them off for an affair such as this one.
"I'm confident you will be able to. Remember our lessons and stay on your toes; there isn't much Zuko can do to aid you, but I'm sure that you've got a barbed enough tongue to save yourself, should the situation become heated." Iroh patted her hand comfortingly and got to his feet.
"Now it's time to get you ready, my dear. The Fire Lily must blossom for others to see it's true beauty." Iroh spoke wistfully, gazing off into the distance for a moment before glancing back at her. She must have been staring; his anecdotes rarely made sense.
He gestured for her to step into the room in front of him, smiling gently at the girl and offering her his arm.
A gasp escaped her as she moved into her bedroom, lifting her hand to cover her gaping mouth. In the center of the room, the maids had just finished arranging her dress for the day on a mannequin. There were pools of red satin on the floor about it, signifying the train that would fall behind her as she walked. It sported a high collar with gold buttons and a peeping slash across the neck that revealed just a little triangle of skin at the bottom of her throat. The bodice was black; embroidered with twin gold dragons that grasped claws in the center. Their tails entangled and fell into intricate woven flames that continued throughout the skirts of the dress, and if you were to turn in the light, you could see the hint of sparkle that the embroidery created.
"This was made for Lord Zuko's bride. It was meant to be a gown she would wear to a ball or a special event; but customarily, women that attend council are dressed in fine garments. Typically, they are seen as decoration; which is a shame, really, I personally would have much liked to hear what they had to say. I'm sure they could have made much more sense than our advisors." Iroh paused, pulling a small, woven circlet from his robes.
"This headpiece acknowledges your position as royalty among your tribe. It's woven gold and silver; I had hoped that having something to remind you of home would give you strength," Iroh placed a soft hand on her arm, his face solemn.
"You are royalty, Lady Katara, and you are meant to be the bride of one of the most powerful men in the world. Embrace your status. Do not let them make you feel small; for you are greater than any of them could ever hope to amount to."
With that, he bowed slightly, bending at the waist to dip his head to her respectfully.
"I'll be outside after you've dressed. We can go over your entrance then." As he exited, he waved at the three maids to begin their tasks.
The ladies attended to her with precision and grace, dressing her quickly and powdering her cheeks so that she appeared several shades lighter than before. When they weren't looking, she pulled faces at herself in the mirror, disliking the new alabaster tone to her skin.
But once they braided her hair and fastened it on top of her head, teasing the strands slightly and placing the metal circlet upon her brow, she could no longer laugh at herself in the mirror.
Katara felt as if she was no longer a girl in that moment.
She wasn't the Avatar's rejected and scorned girlfriend, or the water tribe trash, or the lowly peasant any longer.
She was a ruler.
As she was ushered into the reception hall, she noted first that the table was wooden; set with gold and curved into a half-moon shape. Zuko stood at the head of it, shuffling papers, staring at those that entered sternly. His frame was straight and tense; hair in a topknot, crown poised atop.
She felt her cheeks warm the longer she looked at him.
Katara stood just outside the door, eyes focused low so that they couldn't see the deep blue of her irises. Many of the advisors were white-haired and stooping, and several stopped to pay her a complement about her beauty. Some noted the quality of her gown, some her skin, and others her magnificent hair. They all tittered together like flocks of birds, squawking about the poor quality of their households, their wives or their many mistresses.
She felt amused by this talk, but did not let it disturb the smooth, marble expression she had so carefully implemented.
She only fluttered her eyelashes becomingly and thanked them in a bell-like voice, politely sinking in a curtsy. Iroh entered last, his hand touching her elbow in greeting. Zuko turned, his eyes searching the room for the girl he expected to come through the doors. But when he didn't find her, he frowned, his gaze focusing on the figure just outside the room that his Uncle had paused to speak to.
"They've all seen you now. They know you to be meek and beautiful, exactly what they expect a good Fire Nation woman to be. If all goes as planned, Zuko should announce you to the room. I hope that my Nephew has the common sense to do so properly."
Katara exhaled heavily, closing her eyes and praying for a brief moment that her father would be proud of the woman she had become.
Iroh took her arm gently, escorting her into the room. They walked slowly, her jaw lifted, eyes glittering proudly.
Zuko appeared at first not to recognize the woman on his Uncle's arm. But as soon as he saw her eyes, his cool facade crumbled around the edges just a little. His breath caught in his throat as she approached in the colors of his Nation, as proud and regal as any member of the Royal Family. He swept his robes behind him and moved to greet her.
"My Lady," A seductive purr, his voice made her shiver.
"My Lord." She answered, curtsying as low as she could manage, bending her head to him respectfully. She had entered his game.
The Fire Lord extended his hand to her, bending to press a kiss to her knuckles and smiling at her wolfishly, as if they were sharing a secret. He turned to face the room then, her hand cupped in his, his other arm pressed behind his back. He seemed to be showing her off, his facial expression nearly glowing with pride.
How she managed to keep a coolly distant expression was a miracle, honestly. Her insides were squirming.
"Gentlemen, may I introduce the Princess Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. She has come to be an ambassador between our two Nations, and I have appointed her to my council." Fire Lord Zuko announced, his voice commanding, before dusting another light kiss across her knuckles.
The room erupted in murmurs and whispers, then, as Zuko escorted her to the chair next to his.
"Keep standing," He murmured, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. "They're supposed to rise and greet you. Ladies of the court always sit before anyone else." Katara nodded subtly to him, standing just behind her chair. Iroh was the first to stand.
"Welcome to the Fire Nation, my Lady. It is an honour to have your voice among us." Iroh respectfully bowed his head to her, smiling, before sternly gazing at the men around the table.
"General Iroh- She is not-" A skinny man with a long, white beard struggled to form his words correctly, face flushed with indignation.
"She is a foreigner and a peasant! It is an insult that she comes before this council." A man in black robes burst, squinting at the woman he had, only moments before, complemented vigorously.
Several other men squabbled together, pounding their weak fists against the wooden table, growing more irritated by the moment.
"How dare the Fire Lord insult us like this! She's nothing but a peasant."
"As if anyone expects us to stand for such a whelp."
"I've heard she's his concubine. This Nation has fallen so far."
Katara raised her hand slightly, causing everyone in the room to stare at her and fall into a strange, awkward silence. Her eyes were icy as she spoke to the room.
"My Lords, I have followed your tradition to the letter. I have dressed accordingly and been brought before you by not one, but two members of your council. Why, sir, not only a few moments ago, you noted how I epitomized Fire Nation beauty." A smile accompanied her words as she spoke, her tone cool as she addressed the man in black. He reddened immediately, spluttering, before sitting down in a huff.
Pompous ass. Serves him right.
She remained standing, eyeing the men in the room as if she waited for them, too, to call her out. Zuko's ears were tinged pink with amusement, she noted, watching him struggle to remain composed.
"I come before you all today merely to observe. I am eager to learn about your great Nation, gentlemen, if you will allow me the opportunity to listen." Katara added, demurely, lowering herself in one more (utterly ridiculous, demeaning) curtsy.
She tried not to swear colorfully under her breath.
"I don't believe that this is an insult. I find her intriguing, and given the opportunity, would enjoy discussing her Nation, as well," One of the men that had remained quiet amongst all of the bickering stood, smoothing down his robes and bowing to her.
"Welcome, Lady Katara. I am General Gyushi, and I am honored to meet you."
He must've been in his late forties, possibly early fifties, and as he spoke, a smattering of other men rose and bowed to her as well. She graciously inclined her head to them in return, her hands curled into tiny, nervous fists beneath the cover of her skirts.
More than half of the room stubbornly refused to rise, and seeing as that was the best she would get, Zuko nodded for her to sit. He was the last one standing, and he scoffed.
"I am in awe of your disrespectfulness today." He said quietly, to those that sat around him. Many of them reddened, some looked a little frightened.
But the meeting began nonetheless, and Katara watched avidly as Zuko transformed into a confident and controlled leader before her eyes. They discussed issues of economy, of law, and of society, and he seamlessly transitioned from each. She took careful notes to herself, watching the way he moved, how he pitched his voice, the very timbre of his speech.
It was not long, however, before the man in black robes- Advisor Pu- decided to throw a snag in her carefully constructed plan. He tossed an insult out onto the table before her like a casual piece of paper.
"I hardly think the Water Tribes need any compensation. We gave them plenty when our men decided to impregnate their women." Pu chuckled roguishly, his flabby cheeks jiggling with the effort.
Everyone's eyes turned to Katara, who had, understandably so, bristled.
"Advisor Pu, I would advise you to refrain from such comments in my council if you care to retain your seat." Zuko's words were thin with anger, and he pushed himself to his feet, the scarred side of his face brewing with fury. The very air seemed to warm around him, buzzing with heat and electricity.
"You know you can't release me from this position. Because I was indoctrinated under Fire Lord Ozai, I must remain in this seat until my death." Pu smirked, toying with the goblet in front of him. His gloating only made Zuko's hatred increase, and he clenched his jaw, readying himself to rebuke.
"May I?" Katara's voice sliced through the thick tension, interrupting the argument before it began.
Sitting as still as she could manage, her face growing stormier by the moment, she lifted a finger in the air to note that she would like to speak. Iroh nodded to her once.
Zuko slowly lowered himself back into his chair, a low growl in the back of his throat.
"With the utmost respect, Advisor Pu, your men-" She barely kept herself from spitting the word.
"-did nothing but murder. They killed every waterbender in our tribe, men, women, and even children. They burned our homes and our livelihoods, killed our animals and spoiled our meager food supplies." Katara paused, here, lifting her hand. In front of every man was a single goblet of water. With the movement of her hand, a bubble of water rose from each cup. Transfixed, each man stared at the water floating before them, some with horror, others with awe.
They came together in the center of the table, merging, the large globe coming to rest in her outstretched palm.
"They brutally slaughtered every bender; except for one, a small girl- me- whose mother sacrificed herself so that I would live. Now, Advisor Pu, would you say that you have given them compensation for these horrors?" The water separated back into tiny spheres, moving back to their designated spaces.
Katara let her hand fall, the globes of water sinking back into the cups gracefully.
Pu remained silent. There was no smirk, this time, his flabby cheeks slack and his pallor sallow.
"If given the chance, Lady Katara, what sort of offering would you make to the kingdoms most affected by our siege?" General Gyushi spoke from the opposite end of the table, his hands folded calmly.
Katara took a long moment to measure what he was asking her.
In the Fire Nation, they took money very seriously. Between Ozai's lavish spending and the enormous war effort, there was hardly enough for the people that lived here. The people wouldn't take kindly to large offerings of money to each Nation; but the Nations were demanding compensation for the damages done. It was a difficult and somewhat risky situation for Zuko. Either risk the wrath of his people or the hatred of the other Nations.
"There is no monetary amount to mend what has been done. Families have been broken, homes destroyed, lives ruined. I respect that the Fire Nation people are crippled from the war as well; they do not have much in the way of money. And while I cannot speak for nations other than my own, I believe that it would be seen as a great gift if people from the Fire Nation were to come assist them in rebuilding their homes. There is a great need for unity in this world, gentlemen, and asking a few able-bodied men to set aside their judgement and help rebuild the world is not too large a request, I hope." She tucked her sweating hands into her skirts, fingering the silver warrior bracelet she had tucked into her pocket.
I am a warrior. I shouldn't be afraid of these people.
Some of the advisors glanced interestedly among themselves, and Gyushi nodded once to her with a slight smile.
"An interesting venture, Lady Katara. I daresay it could be a very useful idea, indeed. Fire Lord, what thoughts do you have on the subject?" Iroh mused, sipping at a cup of tea that had somehow appeared in his hands.
The Fire Lord turned to the girl with the ocean eyes and smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges.
"This could be very useful in our efforts to rebuild our relations with the other Nations. Thank you for your council, Lady Katara. It was most instructive." He bent his head to her out of respect.
"The council is now dismissed." Zuko waved his hand at the men around the table, sending a particularly terse glower towards Pu.
They dispersed like a herd of sheep, flocking to the exit with arguments and murmurings already beginning among them. Katara remained seated, a long, shaking exhale moving through her cracked lips. Her shoulders curved inward as she slumped a little, weary from her efforts.
"Katara," Zuko extended his hand for her, lifting her to her feet. The room was empty now, and he bent, tipping their foreheads together. A breath or two passed between them, and their hands linked.
"You are going to be such a marvelous Fire Lady." He whispered to her, his voice steeped in pride. She smiled widely, her stomach tossing with joy.
One of the advisors called his name and title from outside of the room, and he closed his eyes in irritation before pulling himself away from her.
"Duty calls." Katara teased, and he gave her a rueful smile in return.
"Dinner. Tonight. My quarters." Zuko said, quietly, letting her hands slip through his fingers and moving towards the door.
When he was gone, Katara cast a long look around the room. It was hung with portraiture of Fire Lords of the past and their families; each matted in an elaborate, gold frame. Over the fireplace hung a large and ostentatious painting of Zuko, one that Katara couldn't help but giggle at.
His shoulder pads in his robes were enormous. She snorted a little, noting how ridiculous he looked.
She began to hear the murmuring of voices approaching, so she exited swiftly, managing a brief smile and nod at those she passed in the halls. But as soon as the door was shut behind her, the dress fell to the floor in billowing heaps of red satin. She unpinned her hair, left the circlet on her dressing room table, and began to draw herself a bath.
Once she sank into the water, cool and forgiving, her makeup smudged and her hair long and wild, her body relaxed. Her element surrounded her, soothing her, washing away the white face powder and the marble exterior she had painted for herself.
Her caramel skin glowed again, and she smiled to herself, her fingers tracing the outlines of old scars on her arms.
This time, she had won the battle.
Zuko looked exhausted by the time she met him for dinner. He had ordered plates of steamed vegetables and spicy chicken to be brought to them, along with twin bowls of white, fluffy rice. Katara started almost immediately; she hadn't eaten yet that day and was shoveling what she could into her mouth with her chopsticks.
"I had something I wanted to talk to you about." Zuko interrupted her ravenous munching, and she paused mid-bite, her cheeks comically puffed with food.
"Agni, you look like Sokka right now." Zuko shook his head at the girl, fighting a grin as he tried to maintain a serious expression. Katara swallowed loudly, putting her chopsticks down with amusement bubbling in her eyes.
"At least I'm not running around in one of Suki's dresses telling everyone the great air flow it has." Katara laughed, imagining her brother and the jokes he always seemed to make.
"Or describing in detail how he secretly is the hero from one of her romance scrolls, saving all the damsels in the world with his silver boomerang of strength." Zuko imitated Sokka's nasally voice, putting his hands on his hips and puffing his chest out dramatically.
"La, I miss him." Katara's words were still a chuckle, but she glanced downwards as she said them.
He glanced down at his food for a moment, hollowness returning to his worn gaze.
"I do have something to talk to you about, though. I was incredibly proud of you today. I didn't know how you would conduct yourself; and after these past few months, I wasn't sure if you'd show up in a blue dress and waterbend them all to the Spirit World after the things they said to you. But you were gracious and kind, and your advice was very sound." Zuko's voice was soft, and he averted her eyes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he paid her the complement.
"It was pretty hard to resist waterbending Advisor Pu's ass right out of that room, I have to say." The waterbender admitted, carefully spooning a bite of rice into her mouth. The corners of Zuko's mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile.
"Many of the advisors came up to me afterwards and noted how strong an ally they found you," Zuko added, poking at his plate of food without meeting her eyes.
"And I have to say, when I saw you walk into the room, I could hardly believe it was the same girl I'd grown up with. You looked every bit like you belonged on the throne next to me, Katara, and not just because of the makeup or the dress. Because of how proudly you held yourself, and how confident you looked. You were so versed in our tradition and you made such intelligent remarks. It made me want to announce you as my betrothed to them all, right then." He confessed, his cheeks pinking and ears reddening with embarrassment.
Speechless, Katara knotted her fingers together, her face warm and her eyes tumbling, overwhelmed by his kindnesses.
He reached forward then, as if to pick up his chopsticks to start his meal.
Instead of picking up the plate of food before him, however, Zuko reached behind him to pull a thick, gilded folder into his lap. It was all gold; save for a large red seal in the center. It shimmered slightly in the candlelight, and Katara eyed it speculatively. It was Fire Lord Zuko's personal seal; and he gently untied the luxurious black ribbons that bound the folder to reveal heavy red parchment set with gold and black embossed lettering.
"I had this drawn up today." He murmured, letting his hand wander carelessly across the page, looking at it with an unreadable expression.
What could be so important that it rested in a gold folder? She frowned as he handed it over to her, her fingertips balancing the material carefully as their eyes met. His golden irises were warming with hope, the honey-copper glowing expectantly. Glancing over the page, she read the beautiful script carefully.
This announcement is to commemorate the official engagement of Fire Lord Zuko, son of the Fire Nation, to the Master Waterbender Lady Katara, daughter of the Southern Water Tribe.
She nearly choked.
Her words stuck in her throat, she opened and shut her mouth wordlessly for a moment as if she were a fish out of water. Zuko's expression dimmed with disappointment.
"You don't like it." He said dully, avoiding her eyes again.
He reached to pull the engagement announcement back, to close it back up and hide it back in a dusty drawer somewhere, but she pulled it closer to her.
"It's beautiful, Zuko, but why?" She managed to mumble. Zuko sighed.
"I thought that... perhaps... you were ready for the announcement to become public. I guess I was wrong." He managed to wrench it away from her grasp, tucking the elaborate paper back into its folder and tossing it back onto the floor behind him with a careless, irritated motion.
Katara paused before she spoke, pulling her knees to her chest and tucking her chin between them.
"No, Zuko, it's not that. I'm just afraid." Her voice was timid, for once, the thick lashes that framed her eyes bowed down so that he couldn't read the emotions that usually tumbled in her ocean eyes.
"Afraid of what?" He snapped, unintentionally harsh. A deep sigh rocked her body and she bent a small droplet of water from her cup, watching it float and dance in front of her.
"Afraid of Aang's reaction." The words were a low whisper, and he almost didn't catch them. His eyes darkened, and he pushed his meal away from him to stand up.
"Look, Katara, if you weren't over him or something even after all he put you through, there was no reason for you to accept my proposal. I'm a big boy, I've been rejected enough in my life that I can handle it." He hissed, tucking his arms tightly against his chest and walking towards the fireplace, his back to her.
Katara scrambled to her feet, flicking the water droplet at him. Zuko flinched, irritation clouding his face as he turned to glower at her.
"Obviously, that's not the case, Zuko. I thought you understood. I'm afraid that he'll-"
"-he'll what? Come dashing back asking for you to marry him? Promise to be better next time? Grow up, Katara. He's not going to change. And I'm not going to sit around waiting for you to get over him." Zuko spat the words, the scarred side of his face wrenched up with betrayal.
Bristling, Katara walked to the door.
"You're being childish, Zuko. I would've expected you to understand that I'm afraid for my life- and for yours!- when Aang hears about this, not how he feels." She turned to leave, slamming the door behind her as she did so.
She didn't go back to her room that night.
She wandered out into the gardens until she reached the lake she usually practiced her bending by, sinking onto the smooth pebbles as a sob wrenched itself from her lungs. Salty tears fell from her eyes, and she bent them away until there were too many for her to keep track of.
I hope y'all liked this chapter!
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nightfall26