Work Text:
“I don’t know how they can just force us to—“
Mai turns on him then, poking him forcefully in the chest. “ You signed the treaty, same as all the other leaders. You signed your own life away, so I don’t even want to hear you complain about it.”
He hangs his head and sighs, reaching for her, but she turns away from him. “Mai,” he calls.
“Save it. You have a wife to get ready for. When does she get here?”
“Next week.”
“It’s probably best if I’m not here when she arrives,” she says evenly.
He wants to argue with her. He wants to tell her that he’ll always value their memories together. He wants to tell her that what he’s doing now, accepting this bride pushed upon him by demanding peace councils, is his duty.
He says nothing.
He does apologize, however, later, when he remembers it’s not just his life he’s signed away. Mai will have to marry an Earth Kingdom heir within the year.
He wants to strangle whoever drafted the article. The Treaty of the Four Nations, they called it. Article IV of the treaty, wedged between trade deals and reparation payments, requires all heirs to the governing bodies of the three remaining nations to marry outside of their own nation. Water tribe chiefs-to-be will marry the daughters of Earth Kingdom dignitaries. Earth Kingdom dignitaries will marry Fire Nation nobility. And Fire Lord Zuko himself, as the head of government in the Fire Nation, will marry a woman of the water tribes for the first time in Fire Nation history.
Article IV is supposed to facilitate good relations among the nations. Somehow, Zuko doesn’t think mass arranged marriages will do the trick.
Mai is gone the next day. She doesn’t bother with a goodbye. He doesn’t blame her. Maybe it’s easier this way.
He has six days until his bride arrives, and he fills them with anger. He yells at his ministers. He barks at his staff. His fire burns hotter during his bending practice, and it’s cathartic to let the rage burst through his fingertips. The war is over. He’s supposed to be Fire Lord. Men and women bow to him as he walks past, and still he has no control over his life.
He decides he hates this woman two days before she’s set to arrive. He has no idea who’s been sent to him; he doesn’t even know if she comes from the Northern Water Tribe or the Southern Water Tribe. He told the peace council to let him know when they’d made a decision and send her over. It made no difference to him who they chose.
He’s only met one water tribe woman before, and she is hardly an average representation. He hasn’t even seen her in three years, not since she was standing on a balcony in a green dress with a pretty pink flower in her hair, in the embrace of the young avatar. Passingly, in the middle of one of his bending formations, he wonders how she’s doing.
The rage keeps brewing as he takes the palanquin down to the harbor where her ship will dock any minute. He’s decided he’ll be accommodating and courteous to his new wife, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still be angry at the world. He has a long way to go before he’s as relaxed as his uncle.
Then she steps off the ship and throws her arms around him, breaking all protocol. Somewhere beside him his royal advisor must look like he’s going to faint.
“Zuko, I’ve missed you so much!”
“Katara!” He’s completely shocked. “Are you my…”
“Bride? Yep. You didn’t know?”
He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I-I, uh, didn’t ask when the Council told me they’d made a decision.”
“Oh.” Her face falls. “I guess you’re not excited to get married.”
He shrugs. “You know me. Work, work, work.”
“Right.”
He wishes she would smile again, the way she did when she came off the ship. That smile sparked something warm in him.
They don’t speak on the palanquin ride back to the palace, but the fire in his veins has dulled from full flames to the flickering spark she ignited with her smile. At least he’ll spend the rest of his life with a friend he admires and respects.
“I didn’t think you’d ever leave Aang. Did you come willingly?”
“I didn’t come kicking and screaming,” she replies. “The Council thought our union would be necessary for peace. They brought up some good points, but I bet you don’t want to know them since you don’t seem to want me here at all.”
“I never said that!” he exclaims. The spark pulses through him, angrier. Will the two of them ever stop riling each other up?
“You didn’t have to say it. It’s all over your face.” She crosses her arms and turns her nose up at him, and he can’t help it; he laughs.
“You haven’t changed.”
“Yes, I have!” she protests. “For your information, I’m 18 now, and I’ve started my own school back home. I have a ton of students who are now waterbending masters, passing their wisdom along to new students, so yeah, I’ve changed plenty .”
He laughs harder. “So I take it sea prunes are still your favorite?”
“They might be.” Her arms are still crossed.
“I’ll see if the chef can make you some tonight. Just your dish, though. I’m not touching that.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’d like to. You should have a piece of home.”
Her fingers absently graze the necklace at her throat. The piece of home she takes with her wherever she goes.
“Are you going to make me wear a new necklace?”
“No.”
“Aang wanted me to, the times, we, uh, talked about it. He didn’t understand why I didn’t want to.”
“I didn’t realize you had split up. He didn’t say anything when I saw him last summer.”
She laughs humorlessly. “He wouldn’t have, would he?” It’s a question posed to herself, so he decides to change the subject.
“I do have other jewels you can look through. Pins for your hair, earrings, bracelets, rings, all my mother’s. Anything you like is yours. We can go through the vault later.”
“Are you sure? I know how much your mother’s things mean to you.”
The palanquin comes to a stop outside the palace steps. “Consider it the first of many gifts from a husband to his wife.”
When he steps down, he holds a hand out to Katara. She takes it shyly, and he notices the faint blush on her cheeks. He feels that spark again when their fingers touch. It’s not anger, or fear, or the feeling that everything’s slipping out of control.
No, this spark is the thrum of excitement for what’s ahead.