Drabble Soup For The Zutarian Soul
Wedding Invitations
"I can't believe this," Sokka muttered. "I can't believe this."
"What is it, Sokka?" queried the elderly woman, sitting in the middle of the hut and watching her grandson with concern.
"We've gotten an invitation," said Sokka, waving the scroll he held open in his hand, "to Katara's wedding." He handed it to Gran-Gran.
"Oh, my…"
"We got a reply!" shrieked Katara giddily, tugging on her fiancé's shirt sleeve. He had been brooding in his office, hiding from the Palace's noblemen who were still upset at the engagement.
"The fifteenth one in fifteen minutes," he replied wearily.
"But this one is from my brother," she said, pouting a little. "Let's read it. Please?"
One look at his fiancée's face convinced him. "Fine."
It read as follows:
Dear Katara,
Sokka was surprised to hear about your engagement, as was I. I say congratulations. We'll be at the wedding to make sure that bastard dies a horrible, painful death - I mean, wish you good luck in your future.
Yours sincerely,
Gran-Gran
"Gran-Gran so did not write that," concluded Katara.
"No," Zuko agreed.