Zuko has learnt that some meetings are inevitably very boring, no matter how great their significance, or what they represent. So when the first World Council on Trade between the Nations concludes, after a two-hour session on how to keep the stocks of the fisheries of the Northern Ocean balanced (in a time where seafood is rushing to United Republic restaurants), he's itching to stop talking about fried octopus and start eating it.
The conference, like many these days, is held in the Northern Water Tribe. With the war still a fresh wound, the Fire Nation is a complicated subject, while Republic City is only in the early stages of rebranding. The Capital here is one of the only port cities big enough to accommodate such a large number of guests.
The meeting finally ends. As the many representatives mill out of the room, Zuko looks around for his friends. Katara and Sokka are both here, representing their village in place of their father. Knowing Aang, however, he probably left this meeting an hour ago to distract himself with something less boring. Whatever. Aang is only ever at these things for show.
"Ugh," Sokka says, when Zuko catches up to them. "I need seaweed noodles."
Katara pipes up, "I know a place up in the palace tiers." She glances in front of them where the spectacular Palace looms in the distance. "The food is delicious. I ate there so many times during my waterbending research trips," she explains.
Just as Zuko had expected, Aang flies in out of nowhere and catches up to them. "What did I miss?" he says brightly.
Zuko and Katara roll their eyes in unison; Sokka just morosely stares ahead, where a small stall is selling fish cakes to the attendees.
"What?" Aang says. "Fisheries aren't really my area…"
"They're no one's area, Aang," Zuko grumbles.
The place Katara mentioned looks a little haughty, as he would expect for something that usually serves Northern Water Tribe nobility. The man at the entrance, presumably the owner, smooths down his expensive fur. He speaks to Katara with an air of familiarity, apparently recognising her, and bows even deeper when he sees Aang next to her. Aang bows back good-naturedly in return.
When Zuko steps in after them, he's met with a scowl. He scans the place quickly, spotting three diplomats that he recognises from the meeting. They look glum and rigid; one Earth Kingdom representative immediately turns to whisper urgently to the Water Tribe man next to him. He then flags down the nearest waiter.
Zuko's heart seizes. Those people were talking politely to his face, just an hour ago. A familiar feeling makes him straighten his back. He wants to simply stride right past them, but he's with friends. He glances at them. Katara is still chatting to the owner.
The same waiter comes over and distracts the owner from his conversation. Zuko can see them talking, but he can't make out what they are saying. Katara's expression slowly changes to a hard frown; the owner looks guilty. Zuko steps forward, ready to defend his presence.
"There are other restrictions, if you don't mind," the owner is saying, with an embarrassed air. "We've had some requests from -"
Katara and Aang both stiffen visibly in front of him. They were holding hands just a moment ago, but in an instant, she steps backwards and takes Zuko's arm. When Zuko glances at Aang, he sees that the politeness has left his face like it was never there.
"Oh no, that's fine," Katara says icily. "We'll go somewhere else."
Zuko realises his fists are clenched under his sleeves. He tries to calm himself from the bitter disappointment filling him. It's an unavoidable occurrence, but that doesn't mean it doesn't frustrate him every time it happens. It's going to take time.
They go outside; Katara and Sokka already exclaiming their outrage, though Sokka seems more tempered in this situation than his sister. Aang falls into pace with Zuko. He puts his hand over Zuko's momentarily, squeezing his gloved fist.
The fierce panic, the confusing tangle of emotions that Zuko feels, begins to subside.
It's a strange feeling. There was no fuss about it: they simply left the place. For him. It was that easy.
When Zuko finishes his final meeting with the Daoshu Council, the sun is still high in the sky. The reconstruction project has seen a remarkable start. The planners in the council and Daoshu's best architects have been working at a furious pace with the Fire Nation engineers. More shipments of materials and metalworkers are set to arrive in a few days.
To Zuko's surprise, the Daoshu mayor herself approached him about helping with the second stage of reconstruction and the extension of the programme to Bakai and the surrounding villages. Her plan involves more building from scratch than reconstruction, a decision that will undoubtedly elicit some wariness from the locals, though Zuko knows this reaction would be very much warranted. But if he does everything right and listens to the right people and the right intentions (the mayor of Bakai comes to mind as someone who might not fit that description), they'll be helping the disaster aid more than he could have ever imagined.
Even the papers all the way out in Republic City have begun to report about the reconstruction project here - the scale, the design, the perfect partnership of Fire Nation technology and Earth Kingdom resilience. Many are commenting on the fact of the Fire Nation's innovation finally being shared for something other than warmongering.
This feels like the first proper step, a long-awaited one, to securing a strong relationship with the Earth Kingdom. Zuko is more than grateful to everyone involved, and after receiving a delighted letter from Uncle suggesting as much, he feels safe to say he's pretty pleased with himself too.
It also means his work here is almost done. Tonight's ceremonial dinner party is the official end, though Zuko plans to be here for a couple more days - tying up loose ends, making sure his goodbyes are as cordial as can be, both here and in Bakai, and saving enough time to search for some exotic Earth Kingdom teas to take back to Uncle.
And to see Aang and Katara.
He hasn't met with either of them for almost a week, which is a glaring oddity in his schedule. He has no good excuse for it - he has been busy, but no busier than when he was juggling the arrangements for the arrival of the Fire Nation aid and looking after Aang at the same time. He still isn't aware of the reasons for Aang's prolonged time in the Spirit World, though he has heard word through the councillors here that Aang did find out the reason for the earthquake.
He hasn't been able to bring himself to think about it right now, with everything else that's going on - those feelings, and the absurd notions they put in his head. He'll see them at the big dinner tonight, and pray that whatever strange longing that's been building up is gone by then. The tentative excitement he feels of finally getting something so significant right in the eyes of the other nations, at making the Fire Nation a force for good, is what's filling him with hope right now, so he'll focus on that. He can deal with everything else later.
Or never. He has to keep reminding himself: Katara and Aang have everything in the world including each other. There's a world of difference between what's at stake for him, and for them. He has to be imagining whatever is going on between them, no matter how much it feels like he isn't - and even if he isn't, what's the use?
It's almost time to return to the Fire Nation, too, and maybe going back to the normal state of things will help rid him of such indulgent ideas.
That's all there is to it.
The town hall is transformed for the dinner; the sliding stone doors of conference rooms stacked away to create one large space. Flower garlands are strung up in every corner, and temporary statues of stone are erected around its corners, showing grand figures out of the region's myths and legends. It reminds Zuko of the ice sculptures in the Water Tribes' snow festivals. It's a beautiful sight, admittedly, but Zuko feels a little awkward about it - he knows he's a big part of the reason why they're making such a big deal tonight.
The evening begins with speeches. When it's Zuko's turn, the Mayor introduces him with barely concealed admiration. Half of Zuko's job revolves around making speeches, but he's never been a natural at them. He spots several familiar faces from the past few weeks down in the tables, both with earnest smiles and merely polite ones. Aang's is the brightest. There's something utterly charming, easy about Aang, that noticing his rapt attention makes addressing the crowd a little more leisurely for Zuko than it usually is. Katara sits next to him, gazing up at the stage with her chin in her hand, looking simply like she's just happy to sit there, for once.
After the speeches are done, Zuko makes small talk with various council members and other important folk, until he's finally left alone when the food is brought out. The crowd is noisy, snatches of laughter and loud conversation picking up in the breeze. Zuko enjoys it immensely. Nowhere, in any event he went to as a child, was so much liveliness allowed, even after the fire whiskey made its rounds. And it's hardly changed since - he thinks it must be something innate to Fire Nation aristocracy, how austere they are. By contrast, even the biggest names in charge here in Daoshu laugh freely. It's a nice change.
Aang catches up to him after shedding his own little crowd. Zuko notices how formally he's dressed - he still doesn't understand why Aang thinks the cape is a good choice. Aang leads him outside to the balcony, apparently deciding that it's too loud inside for whatever he wants to say. His eyes are as bright as they were throughout the speeches. He looks completely alive, as he did on his wedding day.
"You look a lot better than the last time I saw you," Zuko says. The air out here is cool, and it helps Zuko ground himself.
Aang smiles in acknowledgement. "So," he says, wasting no time, "What's it like being the hottest thing in town tonight?"
And just like that, the charm is gone. Zuko sighs, a sound deliberately more long-suffering that he really feels. "Jealous, huh?"
Aang smirks, looking at him strangely. Zuko could swear that he's being observed head to toe, or maybe it's the glare from the lights making him imagine things.
"I might be," Aang says.
"I've had the spotlight for one day, and you're already whining?" He clucks his tongue with disapproval. "Not a good look for the Avatar, I have to say."
Aang laughs, what sounds like a perfunctory gesture, but he doesn't reply. He just looks openly at Zuko's face, his head tilted slightly and his expression sombre.
Zuko can see everything in it: the strange flirting, the evening of the festival, that afternoon in the guesthouse. The days and the years. He swallows.
He knows he isn't imagining it. Nothing weighs heavier on him than his own confusion.
Finally, Aang snaps himself out of it with a shake of his head. He runs a hand over his own face with a rueful smile, and reaches for Zuko. Zuko accepts the hug that follows, even though his heart is beating oddly fast. He doesn't know whether Aang notices that, but he hugs Zuko even tighter, and that's one sentiment in which there is no confusion at all: Zuko almost can't stand the pride in him that Aang radiates.
After they part, Aang is looking at him again. One of his hands aimlessly wanders to Zuko's shoulder, finding the collar of his tunic. He adjusts it. When Zuko looks down to check that that his outfit is still all in place, Aang catches his chin briefly. An inconsequential touch, the length of a second.
"I told you," he says, and the joke is gone from his voice. "Everyone will come to know you're awesome, it doesn't matter how long it takes." He steps back, adjusting his own cape, eyes not meeting Zuko's.
Zuko joins him in looking at the floor.
"You are sticking around for a few days, right?" Aang asks. The question sounds loud to Zuko, despite the fact that he can hear the buzz of the dinner just metres away.
"Yeah."
"I am too. Katara needs a little more time to finish up in Bakai, and I want to spend some time in Daoshu," he says, pointedly.
"We'll see each other," Zuko says.
The breeze rustles his hair. What an idiotic thing to say. They're friends. They're them. Of course they'll see each other.
Aang doesn't seem to notice. "You're probably gonna be busy," he says, looking out over the balcony in front of him. "But I think we'll come by the Palace soon. Katara and I haven't had a real honeymoon yet."
That again. He's heard it from both Aang and Katara - and despite what he told Katara weeks ago - he doesn't think it would be a good idea anymore. Not with everything that's happened since. He would have seen it as a way to challenge himself before, to be truly happy for them (he is) and be proud to host the celebration of their marriage at his doorstep, but he doesn't trust himself anymore. He doesn't trust himself to feel okay about it, and he knows Aang and Katara don't deserve that.
Zuko nods and twists his mouth into a smile. "Really? You think the Royal Palace is an ideal honeymooning spot? You want duties in the court, too? I can give you some."
Aang laughs, looking sheepish. "Or Ember Island. You know what I'm saying." He pauses. "As long as we get to hang out with you a little."
Zuko smiles at him. After a while, he says, "Let's go back inside."
He could swear that they've only been gone for ten minutes, but by the time they've gotten back inside, the party is in full swing. Those who have finished eating are already milling around the stage, the floor, chatting vibrantly, drinking and dancing. Aang is swept in easily, and soon enough, he's the centre of attention of a small crowd. Katara's healers who are present are cheering for a newlyweds' dance, pushing them together.
Zuko picks a spot out of the way to watch. Katara - clearly the drunker of the two right now - jokes and smiles with her friends, and slowly sidles up to Aang. Aang scratches the back of his head, embarrassed, and Zuko can practically see what's going through his head - that bashful part of him lingering from the balcony just now fighting with the part that wants attention. Expectably, he gives in quickly. Someone strikes up a fast tune on a liuqin. Katara and Aang dance, keeping up remarkably well, excitable smiles flowing like her long skirt and his silly cape.
Zuko doesn't know any two people that would be easier to fall in love with. He doesn't know if he should get a whiskey or not.
A while later into the evening, Zuko takes the chance to sneak out of the party to give Druk his meal. When he arrived, weeks ago, he politely declined the offer of his aides to tend to Druk, an incident at the palace where Druk singed a hole through a stablehand's robe at the forefront of his mind. Zuko has always worked under the impression that all dragons are temperamental, and Druk fits that bill quite easily. He himself seems to be the only person who can get away with not aggravating him. While Druk eats, Zuko pats down his monstrous brow, earning a satisfied gurgle of approval. He discards one finished container of meat and picks up another.
Despite the selfish sadness he feels, from the dancing, and the weird gravity of his conversation with Aang earlier, he doesn't want to end this evening on a bad note. Fresh air is the perfect antidote to that.
Faint footsteps coming down from the courtyard alert him to another presence. It's Katara, barefoot. She runs up to him with a wide smile, the sight so pleasant that he can't help his spirits lift, despite the fact that he came out here to be alone. Zuko has a matter of seconds to drop the pail of raw meat in his hands before Katara throws her arms around him. Druk grunts behind him, busy eating.
"There you are! Why do I have to wander away from the dinner all the way to the stables, of all places, to find you?"
Zuko laughs lightly. The cropped cut of her blouse, and his sleeves rolled from feeding Druk, means they're skin to skin when he wraps his arms around her waist.
Katara squeezes her hold on him with a sigh. "Oh. Your speech was great! You were so good, Zuko. You did - you were so… good."
"How much have you had to drink?"
Katara's eyes are glittering. She leans back with a laugh. "Only a little. Hey, let me be happy at the nice things. And come back in! We're dancing."
"I'll wait for Druk to finish," he says. He smiles genuinely back at her. There's an unbridled sweetness about Katara in moments like this that Zuko feels so happy to be privy to, the times when the weight of the world isn't on her shoulders.
"I'm being serious, Zuko. You've done amazing things here." She cups her hand around his face for a moment before dropping it and picking at his collar. "Aang said you're leaving in a couple of days?"
Oh. Right. At the mention of him, Zuko notices that his arms are still wrapped snug around her waist. She's been talking up at him. Maybe he's had more to drink than he realised. He pulls himself out of her grasp gently.
"Yup. I should be out of here by the end of the week."
"Oh," she says, "well, we'll have to hang out before you do! And maybe... wait. I'll ask Aang about that first." She pauses to think, eyes set. It's adorable. "...actually we did kind of talk a little about it before, way back when we first arrived here. I thought we could go to the palace after this."
"Yeah, you told me before." Zuko smiles to himself. This conversation feels like deja vu in more ways than one. It makes him feel warm. Like he fits there, somehow. He can let her down gently later.
She urges on, with boundless energy, "I really am so proud of you, Zuko. You - the Fire Nation - it's all because of you - and this is just one thing at the end of a long line, really - I really-"
She can't seem to figure out her whole sentence, which is more endearing than it has any right to be. Zuko understands immediately, however. When Katara talks about anything to do with the reforming of the Fire Nation's place in the world, she's deadly serious. And when Zuko thinks about the very same topic, it's easy to admit her experience is one of the things that centres him the most. Motivates him the most. She knows that by now. There's no point in repeating any of those conversations.
He does anyway. The night has him on edge. "I owe you guys for that, more than anything."
Katara stops short, observes him for a moment, and nods. She doesn't counter that. Zuko is grateful for it. Aang would have countered it - he always said it, it was Zuko's own will, there was something inside Zuko that had always known what was right. But there wasn't. He had to learn it, forge it, the hard way. He's still learning. And every moment, every person that has made that journey clearer means the world to him. And no one more than the two of them, in their own ways.
It's nice of her to acknowledge their part, something that Aang is too humble to do.
"Why don't you come back inside?" She says lightly.
Zuko nods. "Give me a minute to put all this away." He gestures to the empty pails of meat next to Druk.
Katara scrunches her nose dramatically. "Ah, it stinks of raw meat here. I didn't even notice."
Zuko shakes his head. More than a few drinks, then. He playfully tips a bucket towards Katara on his way to emptying its bloody remains. She gasps and jumps out of its way, before finding her balance again with a disgruntled look. She crosses her arms. "You better not stink when you're dancing with me."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Zuko says over his shoulder.
"And you better wash your hands before you touch my husband. He's got principles."
Zuko's head whips back to her, his face hot. What kind of - ?
Katara laughs brightly. "Come on, I'm your first dance." Her eyes are playful. She meets him again by wrapping her arms sweetly around his torso, "I'll make sure you're in good condition."