ZUKO

ONCE, DURING HIS LAST YEAR AT THE ACADEMY, ZUKO, TORU, AND SOME OF THE OTHER BOYS HAD GONE DOWN INTO SHU JING. Going into the village on weekends was a right of cadets in their fourth years, as Zuko and his friends were, but he had always avoided making the trip. Even in his cadet uniform, people recognized him, and the way they fawned over him made him queasy and embarrassed.

But that night was different. That night, it was the Winter Solstice, when the Fire Nation marked the beginning of the end of the winter with a celebration that, in many ways, was a companion to the Fire Festival that marked the Summer Solstice. That night, as Toru had explained, everyone would be too happy and excited and drunk to care about the prince wandering around in their midst. And so, Zuko had put on his cadet uniform and walked with his friends down into the village that sprawled across the valley below the Academy. His heart had been in his throat, his mouth dry, his hands cold and clammy. He had been nervous, on edge, sure that, at any moment, some tavern keeper would recognize him and start forcing free drinks upon him.

But…that didn't happen. Toru had been right, just like he always was. They had melted into the crowds, and no one so much as looked at him twice, except for the occasional girl who winked at him and giggled when he inevitably blushed bright red in response. Toru had dragged him into every dance circle, had stopped at every music performance, had encouraged Zuko to toss money to every firebending troupe. The night disappeared into an endless cycle of laughter and dancing and singing, and they had consumed far more alcohol that anyone reasonably should. Zuko never could remember how they had gotten their lanterns lit and aloft, and as for the girl he found himself making out with in an alley, well…

He remembered her name, which was Chiyoko, but, for the life of him, he could never quite recall how they ended up there.

When he woke up the next morning in his bunk, with a splitting headache and a mouth that felt as if it was stuffed with sandpaper, he had a smile on his face. The smile never left him, even after he had run to the bathroom to throw up for the third time.

It was one of the most magical evenings of his life, and yet, it didn't hold a candle to this one.

The festivities had been a strange melding of Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation, like everything else in the long-occupied northwest. There had been singing and dancing, earthbending and firebending troupes competing for tips (or, at least, pretending to), great big bonfires blazing in the night, circles of people holding hands and swirling around the flames, singing and laughing and smiling for all they were worth. There had been food and drink and a surprising number of off-duty soldiers staggering through the streets, belting out old Fire Nation tunes and whistling at every girl that passed, a surprising number of whom whistled right back.

And then there was her…

She was beautiful, more beautiful than he had ever believed possible. She had done her hair up special, draped herself in the finest Water Tribe clothes she could put together. Her eyes sparkled and her laugh was like wind-chimes ringing on a warm summer day. They never stopped dancing, never stopped smiling. He kept telling her how much he loved her, over and over again, and she said it back, each and every time, and when Toshiro tried to keep count of how many times they kissed, he gave up at around two-hundred-and-thirty.

The best part came when it came time to light the lanterns. This was a Fire Nation tradition, as old as time, but it had taken hold in the Earth Kingdom, even at the height of the War. Everyone took part, the old and the young, the sick and the healthy, those from the Fire Nation and those who hated it. Sometime around midnight, every person in the village rushed out into the cold night, towards an empty field just outside of town. In their hands, they held cylindrical lanterns made of thin paper, one end open, the open end holding a little candle set in a seemingly flimsy wooden frame.

Everything went very quiet. A hush fell on the crowd. Upwards of a thousand people, who a moment before had been giggling and chatting and falling all over themselves, became as quiet as the grave. In the middle of the field, two priests, one Fire Nation, one Earth Kingdom, called for everyone to bow their heads. They alternated back-and-forth, one in Nihongo, the other in Hangugeo, explaining the purpose of the lanterns, an offering to the gods, a reminder of the promise the gods made long ago, to always bring the winter to a close, to bring the dawn and the growing season back. The lanterns, see, were a simple of hope, of renewal, of the light that banishes the darkness. The darkness may return, but the light will always be there, flickering, never to be put out.

When the prayers were finished, the priests took long tapers out of the fire, and began moving along the innermost ring of the crowd. One-by-one, they lit the candles in the lanterns, and when one person or group had their lantern lit, they would take a match or whatever they had, and light that of the person behind them. Light rippled back through the crowd, and soon, it seemed almost as bright as day.

Katara held up their lantern, looking at him with emotions that he felt but couldn't begin to express or describe. He ducked underneath, taking the match that someone had given him and watching their candle pulse to life, before passing it on to Toshiro and Song, and stood just behind them. He rose, reached out, put his hands atop hers, where they grasped the bottom edge of the lantern. Her face glowed and danced with the light, even the shadows banished by a thousand-thousand candles blazing away in the night. Tears welled in her eyes, eyes that were bright and happy and full of so much life, life that he couldn't believe she was willing to share with him.

She smiled.

He smiled back.

Then the call went out and they gently tossed the lantern into the air.

He watched, his arms around her, his chin on the top of her head, her body burrowed deep into his own. It all made sense to him now, like it had never made sense before. This was what he was fighting for, willing to die for. Not for kings or nations or honor. No, it was about this, all of this, life. The right to live and choose and know no fear. For the traditions and the cultures and the love that people had a right to feel for one another. For freedom, freedom from hate and persecution and darkness. For the day when this celebration, this festival, would mean what it was supposed to mean: The beginning of the end of winter, the promise of hope and change and new life. He lived for that day, would lay his life down for that day, when people would feel no need to dance in the streets for fear of the day when the fire and the blood would find them again.

This was it.

This was freedom.

He acted before he even had time to think about it, which was good, because if he'd thought about it for even a second, he would've lost his nerve. He was turning her, turning her until she was facing him, plunging his hand in his pocket and pulling out a necklace from which hung a round stone that flashed purple in the night. His hands trembled, his fingers felt as thick and dead as sausages, but, somehow, he got it out, put it around her neck, clasped it, shifted it until the stone hung down perfectly into the hollow of her throat. He looked at it, nodded, swallowed hard, wondered when he had ever been so frightened, accepted that he hadn't even known the definition of terror until that moment, right there, in the middle of the night, far, far away from home.

He watched her fingers reach up, clasp the stone, watched her thumb rub back-and-forth across the design on its face. His eye traveled up, until, finally, he was looking into hers. Tears rolled down her face, and he'd never seen her look so happy.

There was only one thing to say.

"Marry me," he asked.

She smiled.

"About time."

And then they kissed, because sometimes, that's all that needs to be said.


Man, I've been pretty decent to Zuko in this fic. I should probably do something about that...

For those playing the home game, yes, I know, the tradition of sending aloft floating lanterns is Chinese, not Japanese, and thus should be Earth Kingdom. I just...well...felt it fit. *shrugs* That's the thing about doing your homework as an author: Sometimes, you use it to build your world, and at others, you decide that the story requires you tell the research to go fuck itself.

For those still playing the home game, that's pretty much how I proposed to my wife. I'd been meaning to get the ring re-sized, because it was a tad bit big, but then I just couldn't wait anymore, so, pretty much on a whim, I dropped down, put it on her finger, and said, "Marry me." She pretty much burst into tears and gave Katara's response.

Moving on! In the next chapter, Korra unlocks a chakra, and I ship-tease two ships for the price of one. Stay tuned!