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Katara stormed through the palace. An angry miasma radiated off of her and left waves of disquiet in her wake. No one dared approach. And that was perfectly fine with her. She was done with all of this. Way past done. So done she could already see herself gone.
Finding her way to her chambers, Katara slammed the door and slid the bolt in place. It wouldn’t stop the others if they were truly determined to come after her, but for once, maybe they’d get the clue. Snatching at the bracelets and arm bands which were part of the Fire Nation dress, she ripped them off and flung them across the room. The metal clattered against the wall and fell to the ground in a haphazard pile. She didn’t care. No matter what anyone said, she couldn’t do it. Not anymore. Couldn’t anyone else see? It was all wrong.
She needed.... Katara gulped for lungfuls of air, though no matter what she tried, she couldn’t fill her lungs. There were too many walls. Too many people. Too many expectations. The warm air was heavy and muggy. It weighed down on her shoulders and choked her lungs. She missed the frigid bite of the cool, crisp air. The tang of salt on wind and the spray of the sea as waves lapped against the shore. She needed...she needed space.
Space to think.
Space to figure things out.
Space to be herself.
Space...
Katara collapsed on the chair in front of her dressing table and stared into the mirror at the unrecognizable woman in Fire Nation reds and golds staring back at her. Where was the Water Tribe girl who had set out to help save the world all those years ago? The crimson silks flowed easily about her and were light enough to remain cool even in this heat.
All those years ago when she had first donned the traditional Fire Nation garb, it had been a novelty and a necessity. They needed to blend in with the local populace and it had made sense. But now...now she no longer needed to hide. Zuko said she didn’t need to wear the red. It didn’t matter to him what she wore. But, it was too warm for her blues. The thick wool fabrics and fur linings which had kept her warm in the arctic temperatures had no place here among the subtropical territories of the Firebenders.
She couldn’t spend the rest of her life pretending to be someone she wasn’t. He never asked you to be anyone other than yourself, the voice in the back of her head reminded her. But, it wasn’t that easy.
Even if the suitability of the fabric was the only concern, he didn’t understand the pressure she was under. He didn’t need to daily deal with the sidelong glances and disapproving mutterings. It wasn’t him they talked about in loud whispers meant to be overheard.
She could never do anything right. Despite the etiquette lessons that had been part of her training since her arrival at the palace a year ago, she was continually committing faux pas after faux pas. The harder she tried to be what they all expected her to be, the more she lost pieces of herself. Her voice, which had been so strong, felt lost—silenced. She was drowning on dry land and for the first time in her life, she didn’t know how to swim to shore.
They didn’t think she was good enough. Maybe they were right.
She did have other options. It might break her heart, but she could go home. Her tribe needed her. They accepted her. She could become a great leader among her people.
Or, she could return to Aang. She knew he still carried a torch for her. While she didn’t feel the same way about him, he could use her help. He had matured over the years since they had parted, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad....
No. She buried her head in her arms. That was the problem. She didn’t belong at the South Pole anymore. It wasn’t home. Her experiences had changed her. She had become so much more than what she had once been. Despite the wide open spaces and vast oceans, her village had become too small for her. After all her adventures, she longed for more than she could find there.
And she would never feel anything more than friendship for Aang. They both knew this. To pretend otherwise, to pursue anything else, would be a disservice to both of them.
But, it was clear, she didn’t belong here. She was losing herself here. They didn’t need her...
If only she could spend more time with Zuko. Maybe things would be different. He often told her that he needed her. But, he had duties and so did she. On top of her duties, she had her classes and tutors. He had his delegations and councils. When could they find the time for each other?
Whenever they spoke with Uncle Iroh, he would insist they should spend more time together. He would ask, almost to the point of badgering, when had they last spent time alone. The answer was always the same—not now, but soon.
There was a country to run. Even years after the peace had finally come, there was still so much left to do. There were so many old wounds which still needed healing. There were rebellions of the old guard which needed quelling. Katara and Zuko were both committed to keeping the peace, and so, they stayed at their tasks. They brushed alongside each other at official functions and those times in the day when their schedules crossed paths. Most of the time she was alone with no friends in court. Only the insinuating gossips whom filled her ears with reminders that she wasn’t good enough.
A quiet knock at the door interrupted her train of thought. Katara jerked upright and scrubbed at her face hoping to hide any signs of her distress. Despite her recent rage through the palace, she didn’t want to show any trace of weakness to whichever courtier they sent after her this time.
“Katara?” Zuko spoke softly, his voice raised in a question as though he wasn’t certain she was there. Where else would she be? After all this time, he still seemed uncertain. Like he couldn’t truly believe she was actually here. That she had accepted his proposal. Like he thought he was the one not good enough for her.
A crack formed in her defenses at the sound of his voice. He was the reason she was here. He was her home, her heart. But, why did loving him mean losing herself?
“Go away, Zuko,” the words caught in her throat and came out in a strangled hitch. “I need space.”
A small thud sounded from the other side of the door. She could clearly picture his forehead resting against the door. At his side, his hands would clench into fists, then relaxing, before starting the sequence over again as he worked through his emotions.
“Please,” he tried again. “I would like to give you something. Then I will go, if that is what you wish.”
“Yes,” she said in a stilted monotone, while “No,” screamed in her heart.
They had given their relationship a valiant try. They really had. Their worlds were simply too far apart. It would be better to go their separate ways. The heartbreak would be less if they ended things now, than if they waited for things to fall apart later.
Despite her mental pep talk, Katara found herself at the door, unlocking the bolt, and holding it open for Zuko.
Almost timidly he entered her chambers. This was against every dictate of palace protocol they’d drilled into her over the last year. And though he approached her shyly, he didn’t hesitate. The door closed behind him with a near silent click.
In one hand, Zuko held a package wrapped in fine, undyed cloth. Without a word, he reached for her with his free hand. Unable to deny herself the comfort of his touch, she took his hand. With their their fingers interlaced, he squeezed her fingers between his and she returned the gesture pressure for pressure.
Things were so different now. Their interactions were strained. He was the Fire Lord. She was his consort-to-be. Everyone had expectations for them—who they should be and how they should act. They were always surrounded by attendants and courtiers, advisors and sycophants. They were so rarely ever alone anymore. Life now was so different from when they were in exile together, fighting side by side. Was it disloyal to admit she missed those days?
As if sensing her distress (or, maybe he had heard rumors of her latest blow up with her tutors), he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. He held her tightly and whispered soft words of love and adoration. Forgotten for the moment, the package slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground. Over the last few years of their absence, he had grown taller and he stood over a full head taller than her. He rested his cheek against the top of her head while she buried her face against his chest. For several moments they remained like this, reveling in the synchronized beating of their hearts. She breathed in his heady scent of rich, warm spices accented with an undercurrent of a glowing hearth. It reminded her of summer days when the sun never set and of camp fires from along the road.
No, Katara pressed her hand against his chest and pushed herself away. She was only falling deeper for the man who was her home. It wouldn’t—couldn’t—work out. They were only fooling themselves. He needed someone like Mai. She knew what it took to be the Fire Lord’s wife. What did a peasant fro the Water Tribe know? Nothing. That had been made more than clear to her. No matter how hard she studied. No matter how hard she tried to adapt. She couldn’t do this... Katara focused on the floor between them and blinked hard to hold back the tears.
“Beloved,” Zuko cupped his hand around her cheek, and gently lifted her face. “Please, look at me.”
“Zuko...”
“You can stop taking the lessons, if you wish,” he interrupted before she could verbally push him away. “You don’t need them. You’re perfect the way you are.”
Katara bit her lip and fiddled with the folds of her scarlet skirt. The short top and knee-length full skirt left more skin than she was used to showing exposed to the balmy air. Her hair, the top layer pulled into a bun, felt heavy and awkward at the back of her head.
Perfect, she thought bitterly, Perfect only as a stranger to myself.
“No. I said that wrong.” Zuko screwed up his face in frustration. While he tried to explain, he released her hair from the restraining bun, allowing her long locks to fall freely in into loose waves. Running his fingers through her hair, he worked worked the majority into a single braid down her back. Near the front of her face, he separated out two small sections of hair and looped them back behind her head. “Katara, my love, my guiding star, you are perfect as yourself. You don’t need to become someone else to be my bride. I love you. I love your compassion and kindness. Your loyalty and bravery. The way you believe in people—believe in me. I love your fire...”
Katara snorted and couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re the fiery one.”
With a sheepish grin, Zuko shrugged. “Okay, so that might not be the right word. I love your passion. You’re like a spark. You bring life and light and joy to my world. You balance me.” His fingers dropped to the betrothal necklace she wore. It lacked the intricate craftsmanship of her mother’s necklace, but it meant all the more to her because Zuko had made it for her with his own two hands. The emblem in the disk showed fire and water in perfect balance and the necklace had been made of three cords woven together—red, blue, and purple. “You complete me, my beloved.”
“I’m not ready,” Katara shook her head. This was why she agreed to the lessons in court etiquette, palace protocol, and internal politics. “I can’t be your wife. I don’t know how. I’ll embarrass you at a state function or something...and then people will talk...”
“It doesn’t matter. Let them talk. The Fire Kingdom needs a good shake up. If they don’t agree with my fiancée, they can be the ones to change, not you.” The words were a command and one she didn’t mind heeding. Through the more stoic confidence of the Fire Lord, Katara caught a glimpse of the haughty Prince Zuko who had once relentlessly pursued the Avatar with the dogged conviction of a greater purpose. In the privacy of her own thoughts, Katara could admit just how much that same tenacious determination turned her own, especially when he focused it on defending her.
It was Katara’s turn to cup his cheek. Her fingers caressed the edge of the puckered skin of his scar. If anyone else had attempted such a liberty, he would he have pulled away before they could touch him. With her, he leaned into her embrace. He lowered his face while she lifted hers. They met in a slow sweet kiss which soon turned fiery.
From elsewhere in the palace, a gong sounded, alerting the residents that it was time to prepare for dinner. Katara sighed heavily and once again pulled away from him. Loosening the braid, she began to wind her hair back into a perfect bun.
“Please,” Zuko stilled her hands with his. “Wear it down. I miss your loops.”
“For you, my lord, anything.” She fluttered her eyelashes and offered him a coy smile.
Zuko grinned, knowing that she was both teasing him and that she was pleased with his request.
“I should go...” He stepped in as if to kiss her once more before leaving to prepare himself for dinner, when he paused midstep. Retrieving the forgotten package from the floor, he handed it to her. “Open this before I go, please.”
Curious, Katara carefully unwrapped the package. Beneath the plain protective cloth, she she gasped in delight at the revelation of an outfit of indigo silk. The rich, deep blue was a slightly different shade than the one she had grown up wearing, but it was lovely and reminded her of the depths of the ocean.
Though fashioned in the style of the Fire Nation, the top and skirt were embroidered with the patterns common among her Southern Water Tribe. The outfit included a pair of fitted pants to wear under the skirt and fingerless gloves which reached her elbows. If she wanted to, she could wear the light gloves with or instead of the Fire Nation jewelry. The outfit was a harmonious blending of the two style. While comfortable and light enough to wear in the humid climes of the Fire Nation, the outfit included familiar touches from her traditional dress. Speechless, she ran her fingers over the intricate embroidery.
“Do you like it?” Zuko didn’t meet her gaze. The sweep of his fringe fell across his face and hid his eyes. Anxious about her reaction to his gift and uncertain what to make of her silence, he began to ramble, “I wanted to give this to you sooner, but I was having trouble finding someone with the necessary skills to make this. Apparently a true blue is a difficult colour to dye. There was some trial and err to find the right shade. Then they needed to cultivate enough of the proper plants...”
“Thank you.” Surprising him, Katara stopped his rambling with a kiss which took his breath away. His hands skimmed along the bare skin at the small of her back while her fingers knotted in his hair.
Breathless, they reluctantly broke apart when the second gong sounded, warning them they only had five minutes before they were expected to arrive in the dining hall. “Will you wear it. Tonight. I want everyone to recognise my beautiful bride-to-be as she is meant to be—herself.”
“Of course.” She grinned all traces of fear and doubt were gone. Knowing her beloved as she did, she knew he had personally gone through effort required to find the craftspeople needed to make this one of a kind outfit just for her. He would have been involved every step of the way, making all the necessary decisions, as a symbol of his love and respect for her. He didn’t want just another Fire Nation maiden as his wife. He wanted her and he wanted her just as she was.
Zuko’s responding smile lit up his face as though he were gazing upon the sun. “I should go...”
“Wait,” Katara grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “When I said I wanted space, I didn’t mean it. Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing i want with you.”
He nodded solemnly. “It’s okay if you do. Need space, I mean. There isn’t a rush for us to marry yet. You are my beloved and I love you with my whole heart and soul. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and if that means we marry next year instead of next week, I’m willing to wait. I know moving here and learning what is expected of you as the Fire Lady has been a big transition. If you need more time, I understand. I also know you are capable of surpassing the challenge.”
“Thank you.” Katara inhaled his scent of home and comfort. She’d always known what he had reminded her, but when faced with the daunting prospect of becoming the Fire Lady, she’d only forgotten. She would proudly wear the blue silk as a reminder that Katara of the Southern Water Tribe was qualified to govern by her husband-to-be’s side. Together they would forge a new path of justice and mercy, compassion and reform. “I love you, Zuko—light of my life. I don’t want to wait a day longer than necessary to start spending the rest of my life with you.”
“Good,” he murmured. As he held her against his chest, Katara reveled in his embrace. There was no where else in the world she wanted to be than in his arms.
They would be late for dinner and neither minded. Katara and Zuko were stronger together, they balanced each other, and they reminded each other of the most important things in life. Things would be changing in the palace and their kingdom. Among the first of these changes would be the future Fire Lord and Lady prioritizing the time necessary to be with the one their heart loves.