Zuko is featherlight.
DAY 10: FEATHERLIGHT
Katara approaches the dais and sinks into a low curtsy. "Your Lordliness."
The Fire Lord scoffs and waves his hand dismissively. "You don't have to do that."
"I know." She grins, clambering up the steps to plop down next to him, prodding him to move over and share the space on his cushion. "Neat party."
Below them, the banquet hall is filled with Lord Zuko's personal guests. Fire Nation aristocrats mingle in their finest finery, sipping the palace's finest wines and plucking the finest finger foods from the finest golden trays carried by the finest uniformed servants.
Next to her, Zuko groans almost inaudibly. "I just want it to be over already."
Katara lands a playful slap on his arm. "Don't be such a downer. Let me get you a drink."
She feels him stiffen. "No, but thanks."
"No? Come on, I insist." She makes to stand, but a warm hand on her wrist stops her.
"I've already had one glass of wine tonight, and it's improper for a Fire Lord to be…improper at engagements."
Katara balks, tracing her gaze from Zuko's thick silken robes to the imposing mantle of the Fire Lord atop his shoulders, to the five-pronged flame glinting intimidatingly from his impeccable top knot, to the angry scar that contorts his face into a permanent scowl—
"Zuko. Are you a lightweight?"
His good eye widens, and he releases her wrist like it burned him. "What? No!"
She can't hold back the laugh that tumbles out of her. "Oh my Spirits, Zuko. You are definitely a lightweight."
His glare is steely. "I'm not a lightweight."
"Oh yeah? Prove it."
Zuko's head rests on Katara's shoulder, the hair that escaped his top knot tickling her face. His crown is askew—one of its golden tongues of flame is digging into the skin of her neck.
A brave patron steps up to the dais, bowing deeply to the Fire Lord. "My Lord, on behalf of the Doi family, I thank you for your hospitality this evening."
In response, Zuko shoots the nobleman a lopsided grin and a thumbs up. The man's jaw drops, but he quickly recovers and retreats with a final incline of the head.
Katara hiccups. "Not a lightweight, huh?"
"Shuddup," he slurs.
Absently, she scratches her fingers across his scalp, mussing his hair to the point of no return. "Zuko, what was this party even for?"
He sighs against her ministrations. "You know, I honestly don't remember."