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They complement one another. He is the raw, unbridled emotion brimming with fire to her unyielding ice, and for as rigid as she is, she always melts at the sight of him. Zuko is not unaffected; she extinguishes the rage that burns inside him, leaving him only with a vague sense of warmth every time he sees her.
She is gorgeous, as she always is, but is made even more resplendent by her scarlet wedding gown. It is Fire Nation tradition to be wed in red, as a sign of good luck, and the hue only amplifies her natural beauty. Mai’s lips quirk when she catches Zuko’s gaze, and butterflies fill her stomach when she registers the intensity of his gaze, almost as if he were a sinner gazing upon the only heaven he’d ever receive. She’s tempted to reach out and grab his hand, ceremony be damned, to assure him that he deserves this and more. She restrains herself for propriety’s sake, and makes a mental note to shower Zuko with affection in private.
Mai listens half heartedly to the monotonous torrent of words coming from the officiant, and her eyes wander to the crowd. Fleetingly, she looks for her father in the spectators, but she knows that along with Zuko’s father, they’ve taken him into custody. She exhales, a barely audible sigh, but Zuko notices, and he moves to take her small hand in his larger one. In his loving gaze, she can tell all the words he wants to say; that he loves her, that their backgrounds and their predecessors do not matter, not in the wake of their love, and she squeezes his hand reassuringly.
“Do you, Fire Lord Zuko, take Mai to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The words are clear as day from the officiant, and Mai briefly wonders just how long she’d been ruminating in her thoughts. A pang of fear courses through her veins at that question. What if he says no? Would she be cast aside, no more important than a stray dog, or would she-
“I do,” Zuko says, and the fear dissipates almost as quickly as it arose. He is a good man, Mai thinks, too good for her.
The officiant turns to her, and fixes her with a weary, but kindly stare. “Do you, Mai, take Fire Lord Zuko to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
There’s no other answer, no other option, at least in Mai’s head. He was the reason she fought, the funnel for her power to flow through, the very reason she dared to breathe in this godforsaken nation.
“Of course I do.”