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Chapter Text

The avatar always falls. The avatar always falls. The avatar always falls...

If it wasn't for Avatar Roku, If it wasn't for the Air Avatar, Katara could be there helping her tribe. Her tribe that was at risk, her tribe that was vulnerable. She could be protecting it, whether she mastered her bending or not. She could be travelling to her sister tribe. 

But the avatar always leaves destruction behind. Always... whether it is Mother Earth, ice... or fire. Avatars were meant to keep balance right? But this...this wasn't balance. This wasn't the balance the very first avatar wished for, neither the balance the people wished for.

This was fire. Fire that the great kings said to be powerful, calm, and beautiful. It nought of that. It was fury, blood-thirsty for destruction, and anger bloomed from it.

Fire destroyed it all.

Katara could only let the tears fall onto the deep crimson robe that was once layered by fabrics of Fire Nation clothing.

She should have screamed, but the sobs were lodged in her throat. The palace halls were patrolled by if not hundreds, then thousands of guards. She could hear the thud of each footstep they created, even their breaths, her screams wouldn't overcome the overwhelming sound of the clanking of metal, breaths, and footsteps. But out of all of the sounds that furiously echoed her ears, she could hear one clearly. So clearly that Katara wanted to scream into the wall and disappear in the process.

These footsteps weren't accompanied by the loud clanking sound of metal. Katara could hear their breath that was steady but tinted with anger. This was the very same person that stood next to her at the ceremony, the very same person that held her hand not with hope or joy, but with reluctance and rage.

Katara didn't bother to look up. She didn't have to. 

Creak

The door that's too big for a chamber was pushed open. Soft thuds approached her, yet the person that created the steps was cold and raging. Katara could feel the heat that radiated off their body as they got too close. Deep inside, she knew the heat was from the never ending fire of rage and a merciless soul.

The reason why she was pulled away from her tribe when she could be protecting, healing, fighting for them, was right in front of her. Yet, even with all the effort to go back to the calm life she once lived, she was stuck in a crimson bridal dress that as etched with gold, sobbing like a little kid. 

They crouched to her level. Katara didn't even look up, she just stared at the wooden floor with a glare that could burn fire itself. Their breath radiated of her head, as if asking her to look up. 

"Look at me," the voice was rough, deep, yet it sounded like a plea.

Katara didn't respond, why should she? This was the man that was the reason she was pulled away from her tribe and family. 

Instead of going away, the man forced her chin up. She wanted to pull the head away from her chin, but the grip was tighter then a corset.

Zuko. He stared at her with an unreadable expression, the scar telling Katara what the Fire Nation could do. Were they all trained to hide behind masks in the Fire Nation?

"Do you think I wanted this too?" 

"Well, it looks like it,"

"You got me in trouble today," his voice rose every word.

"Should I care?" Katara retorted, but the voice was sharp and low.

"You didn't come to the after party, the Firelord's furious at me!" Katara's jaws clenched, "Because you didn't come!"

"So you only think of yourself?" Katara's fists dug into the bed sheet, "Leave me alone," she said through gritted teeth.

Her blood boiled. He was angry at her when he ripped her perfect life away from her. A perfect life where war lingered its way around.

"You know his temper," Zuko hissed, "I better see you dragging yourself to the throne room tomorrow,"

Katara didn't reply, she shifted her glare to the window. Moonlight gushing in from the open window. The humid air danced in and out of the chamber. She disgustingly wanted to be the air, leaving the room forever. But Katara knew that wish was unreachable.

“Change already, Water peasant,” Zuko snapped, rising from his crouch.

The chamber door groaned and closed with a thud, leaving Katara and the endless train of grief and rage behind.

She couldn't escape this. Even if she did, rage and fury will be following her heels, wherever she goes, even after her death. The wishes of seeing her tribe and brother were fading away, not even a speck of hope remained. 

This was her life now, fury, greed, and fire. No more calm, joy, and water...

Chapter Text

The soft calls of birds echoed their way into Katara's chamber. It wasn't the cold breeze that greeted her every morning — this one felt different. Instead, a warm breeze flew past her. It felt like it was an eternity ago when Katara felt the winter air, and she'd never feel it again.

Katara let out a shaky breath as her eyes gazed through the window. The morning sun rose from the sea, its balmy rays shining across the city. The market wasn't opened yet, the roads undisturbed. The shops' banners that hung in front of each shop flowed with the wind and the Sun kissed the crimson rooftops. It was perfect... almost perfect. The war flooded each nation, leaving smoke and destruction behind. Was this what the great kings wanted their people to see? Perfection and beauty? But this wasn't beauty, this was the source of destruction masked by the expectations of the kings. Katara always wondered, did the people know what their godly kings were doing? Ripping people's perfect lives and crushing the life they built. 

Yet whatever she did, she knew she was trapped, tied to the palace like a doll.

A soft knock caught her attention, Katara's head snapping back as she tried to hide a scowl.

"Come in," Katara commanded, her voice carried bitterness.

The large chamber door groaned open. Oh, how she missed the small wooden doors that swung open like butter back in the South Pole. Now, it felt like she was carrying a platypus bear up a mountain. A young lady strolled in. Her sleek raven hair held in a bun, a stick piercing through the center. The traditional crimson Fire Nation dress drifted with her movements. Her gait elegant, quiet, and mannered.

"Princess Katara, I am sent to you as your lady-in-waiting." she started, "You can call me Mizumi."

Katara strained a smile, albeit Mizumi clearly saw the phony smile. She was already tired of the title. Princess. 

"The Fire Lord requests you to the throne room," 

Katara stiffened. She was supposed to talk to the Fire Lord who took over the world? The one who demolished the world and whose family tree shattered the world's balance? 

"What does he want?" Katara mumbled under her breath as Mizumi escorted her into the halls.

The palace was nothing like the chieftain's hut back in the South Pole. The palace gave off more luxury, power, and dare she say perfection. But someplace in her heart still held the memories of her tribe close. The morning sun streamed into the hall, the crimson walls were etched with gold wall trims, which glimmered in the sun. The chandeliers laid in an aligned order, the candles unlit. Their shoes brushed against the crimson carpet that laid on the dark oak floor. The kings did have a way to manipulate people into thinking this was a perfect nation...

"I will be waiting for you here," Mizumi smiled, opening the doors slightly.

Katara braced herself, talking back to people? Sure, but talking back to royals? That's a whole death wish. With a quavering breath, Katara put on her most royal posture and strode in as the throne room doors groaned open.

For a second, Katara faltered. She was not expecting Zuko, the reason she was here, seated next to Fire Lord Ozai on a lower platform. The fire blazed, uncontrollable, yet Zuko didn't flinch. He masked his face with an unreadable expression and his features visible as the fire lightened from under.

"Ah," Ozai's tone was sly, "we have been waiting for you,"

Katara didn't speak, fearing that her bitter tone might leave her lips. Instead, she kneeled in front of them on both knees, looking up with expectations. But expectations covered the hatred and anger that bubbled in her.

How pathetic this is, Katara thought.

"As we all know, your marriage has healed one of our relations with the world." Ozai started, his voice confident, unfazed by the visible reluctance when Katara sat down, "From now on, as both Princess of the Fire Nation and the daughter of the Chief, you are expected to keep peace between our nations."

Katara nodded, though she wasn't listening to any of those words.

He continued, "Now that you are married to my son, I expect you to act like a married couple, thus sleeping in his chamber."

Katara visibly faltered. Her? Share a bed with him?  No, no, no this must've been a joke.

"Your Highness, may I reject-" Katara stood her ground — or tried to.

"You will share a bed under no circumstances." Ozai confirmed, his voice harsh and firm.

Katara bit her lip hard, so hard that Katara betted that it was bleeding. How was she supposed to sleep with him? The monster that looked down on others like they were little ants? The marred skin around his eyes told the stories of the abilities the ash makers had. One wrong move and...

"Do you understand?" Ozai's face hardened, "If you do fail to act like a married couple, you will receive punishment."

Katara never felt this type of fear. Whatever punishment it was, whether it was death or abuse, she can't have it. With her gone, her village will be pillaged.

"Y-Yes, your Highness." 

"Don't be so shaken, Princess," oh, how she wanted to scrub that smug grin off his face, "my honorable son will be punished as well, won't you Zuko?"

Ozai didn't leave his gaze from Katara, the gaze burning into her soul. 

"Yes, Father," Katara finally heard his voice after their last argument. His voice was gruff and raspy, and deep inside her, Katara found it sort of attractive.

For a moment, their eyes met. Fire to water. She felt like she just fell through an endless rabbit hole. The golden eyes blazed with the fire, and somehow, Katara felt this strange type of calm feeling, yet it felt warm and overwhelming. Those eyes pulled her into the deepest trenches of her heart, as if casting an ancient spell on her.

No, no, she can't be falling for him. She wasn't. That for sure.

"You're dismissed," Ozai smiled innocently.

She helped herself up and headed for the door. She didn't know if she should run or walk, but the hope of walking out of the murderous man's sight was all she wanted. The smug, low voice ceased her steps.

"But remember, you are under one of the highest securities the Fire Nation has ever asked for, if you do one wrong move, your entire tribe is punished," Katara felt him smirk.

Reluctantly, she turned around and bowed, "Yes, my Lord,"

"Good," something in her told Katara that Ozai was definitely planning something, but she was just able to shake it off.

The chamber doors groaned shut and Katara let out a heavy breath she didn't know she was holding. Mizumi glanced up from a beige scroll, a crimson bow sticked on the top.

"We must make haste — you have a spa scheduled by Princess Azula,"

Katara didn't even have time to brood about the hectic schedule before they were off to the spa. The halls were copies of each other, the plants were aligned, soldiers patrolled the halls like it was some ancient artifact, and the chandeliers glimmered down at them. Katara was convinced that they were going in circles until they finally arrived at a distant hall. This hall led them to the Royal Garden. Fire lilies bloomed in a line as they walked past.

"We're here, I will be waiting for you here, Princess," Katara groaned internally, how could people live this life?

Katara walked into the room, a strong scent sidled into her nostrils. She scrunched her nose, ceasing the cough that she held back.

"Princess Katara!" a venomous voice called out, yet it was covered with joy, "Come, come!" 

Azula. Her silky raven hair shone as the maid applied hair oil, her posture relaxed, arms hanging down from the armrest, yet she still made it look royalty. A maid cleaned Azula's toes, the maid's face painted with anxiety.

Katara shambled towards the crimson cushion which was notched with gold. Surprisingly, the cushion was soft, comfy. The comfort didn't last long as maids got to work, buckets and supplies scurried everywhere. 

"How's life with Zuzu? How is he treating you? " that fake, smug smile was identical to her fathers.

Katara swore all Fire Nation royals were the same.

"Yeah... he is," Katara stumbled over her words, unsure of what to say, although it was wrong.

Azula just smiled, "I heard that you were called to Father? How was it?" 

This felt like those interviews that people quoted in the newspapers that they got in the South Pole from traders. 

"He said I had to share a bed with Zuko starting from tonight," Katara's face strained into a tight frown.

Azula feigned innocence, absolutely clueless to those that haven't heard the rumors of the Princess.

"I thought he told you about going to the South Pole and all..." Azula pulled her face away, yet Katara could feel her smirk.

She faltered, "W-what? I thought I was supposed to stay in the Fire Nation?" 

"You were, until the water peasant set a condition," Venom was clear in her voice. Azula did not want this.

Katara bit her tongue, eyes shooting daggers at the Fire Princess. How dare she call Katara's father a peasant? If she was going to become the next Fire Lady, she deserves respect from citizens or even royals. Her heritage wasn't going to be made fun of, especially when she reigns.

"In the meeting, the Chief made it very clear that he wants his daughter living in the Water Tribe, therefore, my father made an agreement." Azula looked at Katara's ocean eyes, "Touching isn't? It's like a happy ever after if you come to think of it." 

Azula smiled, the smug yet polite smile that Katara is convinced the royals are taught to do. Azula saw through her, knowing her wishes came true. 

Katara could meet her tribe again. Protect it from the filthy fire benders. She could do the many things the Avatar failed. That is protecting her people.

"Would you like a drink? Made from the finest wine business in the Fire Nation," Azula gulped down a dark red liquid. 

She grimaced inwardly. Katara wasn't a big fan of alcohol. The only time she had drank was at a wedding ceremony for one of her dad's generals. They had served Tundra Ales     a sharp, brackish drink produced from the Tundra Seals' fat and the herbs that bloomed under the dreadful conditions.

In Katara's opinion, it wasn't horrible, just too acidic.

"No, it's fine." Katara raised a hand.

"Then you better be off, it's not good to be late for you new husband," venom traced every word.

Katara got up, almost immediately. She was not going to be near her any more longer. She bowed reluctantly and hurried     yet slow as possible     towards the door. Not sparing a look back, she shut the door as gently as possible and scurried back to his- no their chamber as Mizumi said.

Zuko hated this. He truly did. Being forced to marry a Water Tribe girl wasn't on his bucket list when he arrived home. But who was he to argue back to the Fire Lord? The one that left a permanent scar on his face, to "teach" respect. Yet, here he was, rambling towards their chamber. Technically, it was his. Katara's was noticeably smaller. She had a dark wooden vanity, carved with gold flakes, and a queen size bed. Though Zuko had a private bathroom and a work space for whatever task his father spits out. He was like a buffalo yak (I don't know if this animal is even real) on a leash despite being the heir to the throne.

His steps echoed the hallways, elegant and commanding. For once, Zuko felt alone in his thoughts. Using this chance, he wondered back to the argument. Yes, he knew that he shouldn't have yelled at her for not coming, she was the one forced to be here after all, but it pained his heart when his father burdens him with the fault of others. Yes, he knew that she'd been through a lot. Being forced away from her tribe people, forced to live in a palace with foreigners, Zuko knows it all. This was how it felt when he was banished after all. But why couldn't she just come? It's not like the chamber to the after party was in another nation. It was right next to the wedding ceremony! Albeit all his excuses, he didn't have any right to call him a water peasant. It was equally painful as calling a fire bender an ash maker. Maybe, he could apologize? But apologizing wasn't his thing, most of the time he whether yells or spit fire at the victim. 

He heaved the door open, expecting to just roll onto his bed. Instead, Katara rested on one side of the bed, tense, a blanket covered her legs and the crimson thin bed gown flowed with the wind. Her eyes drooped as she realized it wasn't some guard that decided to barge into the chamber. Though Zuko saw an irate look in her ocean blue eyes.

"I didn't expect you to come," she muttered, scooching back under the warmth of the blanket. Yes, the Fire Nation was hot, but at night, it was freezing. Maybe not to the extent of the South Pole, but it was still freezing.

Zuko pursed his lips, stopping the retort from leaving his mouth. He undressed his robe and threw it onto his chair, knowing that the maids will clean it anyways. Slipping behind the folding screen, he took off the layers of fabric and threw on his bed robes (Does that exist?) and practically flied onto the bed. Father, duties, stupid training. He neglected the fact that Katara was sleeping right next to him, her back facing his way. He just needed sleep. 

For once, there was a feeling of calm settling in her, yet it still hinted unfamiliarity. Come to think of it, sharing a bed with Zuko wasn’t as dreadful as she feared. He had his side, and Katara had her side. He wasn't the type to snore or sleep on the bed like a wolf spider. This was the exact opposite of sleeping with Sokka, except for the eerie peace and the calm wind. 

She creased her eyebrows as a thought came in her mind. Was it true that she would get to live in the South Pole again even if it's for a month or two? There were hundreds of possibilities that she failed to do so before. Saving the village, keeping her people away from the cruel world. Could she do it? She was the only water bender in her tribe, allowing her to execute tasks that non-benders couldn't. For example, filtering water. The water in the ocean wasn't as clean as the tales said to be. Dirt and soot was carried through its currents. 

But then, Azula always lies... right? A few days before the wedding, Zuko had muttered something about Azula lying. Nobody knows a girl better then her brother, or that's what they said in her tribe. Or was it the same here? There were so many cultures and tribes in the world, Katara could only grimace at the thought of learning all the cultures in the entirety of the Earth Kingdom. 

Hope bloomed in the pitch black void. Maybe, just maybe, she could meet her family again.