hi ! just dropping by to say how much i adore ur writing style đ its so effortless in a good way i cant describe it !! but the pacing and the dialogue is so natural and accurate and true to the character (which tbh i dont see alot on tumblr nowadays đ) but yeah keep going i love ur fics!!
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Izumiâs fingers tightened around her brush. âDaddy.â
Still nothing.
You watched from your place nearby, already sensing the incoming disasterâand, very deliberately, not interfering.
âIâm serious about Uncle Iroh!â Izumi snapped, slamming her hands onto the table. Ink trembled in its dish. âYouâre just sitting there with your book, and Iâm trying to write to him and you know I donât know how to spell!â
Zuko blinked, finally lowering the book just enough to look at her. ââŠYou seemed busy.â
âI am busy!â she shot back immediately. âThatâs why I need help!â
You pressed your lips together, shoulders shaking slightly.
Across the table, several scrolls were spread out in what Izumi clearly believed was a highly official system. Ink smudged her fingers.
One brush had been abandoned entirelyâclearly defeated.
Zuko sighed quietly and closed his book, setting it aside. ââŠAlright,â he said. âWhat are you trying to write?â
Izumi huffed, dragging the scroll toward him with unnecessary force. âIt says,â she began, pointing at the uneven ink, âDear Uncle Iroh, Dad is not taking things seriouslyââ
âI am taking things seriously.â
ââand I think you should come back and fix it.â
You let out a quiet, traitorous laugh. Both of them looked at you. Zuko, mildly offended.
Izumi, deeply betrayed. âThis is not funny,â she said.
âItâs a little funny,â you admitted.
âIt is not,â she insisted, crossing her armsâan expression so identical to Zukoâs that it was almost unsettling.
Zuko noticed too. His mouth twitched despite himself. ââŠIâm taking things seriously,â he repeated, a little more defensively.
âThen help me spell,â Izumi said flatly.
A pause.
Zuko leaned forward slightly. âAlright. What word?â
Izumi straightened, all business again. ââImportant.ââ
ââŠYou almost had that one.â
âI did not,â she snapped. âThatâs why Iâm asking.â
You shifted closer, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. âWe can help you together,â you said gently.
Izumi hesitatedâjust for a secondâbefore nodding once. âFine,â she said. âBut we have to do it properly.â
âOf course,â Zuko murmured.
She narrowed her eyes at him. âProperly.â
ââŠProperly,â he echoed.
A beat passed as the three of you leaned over the scroll. Ink. Paper. Quiet concentration.
Izumi carefully rewrote the first line, tongue peeking out slightly in focus. "Dear Uncle Iroh" She paused, then glanced up.
ââŠHow do you spell âmissâ?â
ââŠMâIâSâS,â he said quietly.
Izumi nodded, writing it down with great care.
I miss you.
Izumi leaned over the scroll again, carefully adjusting her posture like she was drafting a royal decree. âI got my hair done,â she announced proudly.
You blinked. âSince when?â
Zuko also looked up slightly. âYou did?â
Izumi froze. Then slowly turned her head toward him. âSee?â she said flatly, pointing at him with the brush. âDaddy, thatâs why youâre not in the moment.â
Zuko frowned. âI am in the moment.â
âNo,â she said, completely certain. âI showed you my hair but you were too busy looking at mommyâs hair instead.â
Silence. You choked. Zuko slowly turned his head toward you. ââŠI was?â
âI noticed,â Izumi added helpfully, already writing again like the conversation was closed.
You raised both hands defensively. âIn my defense, I didnât do anything.â
Zuko looked unconvinced. Izumi, meanwhile, continued writing with intense focus, tongue poking out slightly. âAnyway,â she muttered, âUncle Iroh needs to know important updates.â
Zuko leaned back slightly. âSuch as⊠your hair appointments?â
âYes,â she said immediately. âIt is very important information.â
Zuko rubbed his temple lightly. âIâm sure it is.â
âIt is,â she repeated, pressing harder onto the brush like emphasis alone would make it more official. âBecause presentation matters.â
You glanced at Zuko. âSheâs not wrong.â
He gave you a look.
Izumi lifted her hand suddenly, fingers spread wide. âAnd I got my nails done.â You smiled.
Zuko leaned forward, squinting slightly. âSince when did youââ
âI showed you,â she cut in immediately, offended.
Zuko paused. ââŠWhen?â
Izumi slowly lowered her hand. Then turned to him again with that same deeply unimpressed expression. âWhen you were not in the moment,â she said. You made a small, strangled sound, quickly turning your face away.
Zuko stared at her, clearly trying to recall something that absolutely did not happen.
ââŠI donât remember that.â
âThatâs the problem,â Izumi replied flatly. She went back to the scroll, muttering as she wrote.
I got my hair done and my nails done.
She paused. Looked at her own writing. Then added, very deliberately:
Daddy did not notice.
Zuko leaned in. ââŠYou donât have to include that.â
âYes I do,â she said without hesitation. âBecause it is part of the report.â
âThe report..â you echoed weakly.
âYes,â Izumi said, completely serious. âUncle Iroh needs to know what is going on here.â
Zuko exhaled slowly, like he was trying very hard to remain composed. âI am aware of what is going on here.â
Izumi looked up at him. âThen why didnât you notice my nails?â
Silence.
You turned away again, shoulders shaking.
Zuko opened his mouth. Closed it. Then, carefully, he reached out and took her hand, turning it slightly to look. ââŠThey look nice,â he said.
Izumi narrowed her eyes. âYouâre just saying that now.â
ââŠNo, I mean it.â
She studied him for a momentâreally studied himâbefore giving a small, accepting nod. âOkay,â she decided.
Then, immediately back to business: âI will still write it down.â Of course she would. Zuko let out the faintest huff of a laugh, shaking his head as she continued her very official, very serious correspondence.
Izumi dipped her brush back into the ink with renewed focus, posture straightening like sheâd just resolved a major political dispute.
âNext,â she muttered, mostly to herself. "Fire.."
Zuko leaned back slightly, watching her now instead of pretending not to.
You stayed close, your shoulder brushing his, both of you quietly observing as she worked.
Izumiâs tongue peeked out again as she wrote, slow and deliberate:
I am
She paused. ââŠHow do you spell âpracticingâ?
Zuko answered this time without hesitation. âPâRâAââ
âI know how to start it,â she interrupted, frowning. âI just donât know how it ends.â
You smiled softly. âCâIâNâG.â
She repeated it under her breath, then carefully added it to the line, brows furrowed in deep concentration.
I am practicing my firebending and I am getting better.
She sat back slightly, considering. Then added, smaller:
But sometimes it goes too big.
Zukoâs gaze softened almost immediately at that.
Izumi didnât seem to notice. She just nodded to herself, âHonest,â she said.
âVery,â you murmured.
She tapped the brush lightly against the edge of the ink dish, thinking hard. ââŠAnd also,â she added, almost as an afterthought. The brush moved again. Slower this time. Less rigid.
Mommy and Daddy are helping me.
You felt it before you even fully read itâthat small shift in the room.
Zuko didnât move.
Izumi kept going, quieter now, like she wasnât entirely aware of how much she was saying.
They are very busy but they still stay with me.
Your chest tightened.
Zukoâs hand, resting beside yours, shifted slightlyâjust enough that his fingers brushed against yours.
Izumi frowned faintly, like she was trying to find the right words for something she didnât fully understand.
Then, carefully:
They are good at helping even when I donât know what I need.
She paused again, staring at what sheâd written.
Then added one last line, a little messier than the rest:
I like when we are together.
This time, she didnât say anything after. Just stared at the scroll for a moment⊠then nodded, like sheâd decided it was acceptable.
Zuko let out a slow breath you hadnât realized heâd been holding. ââŠThatâs a good letter,â he said quietly.
Izumi glanced up at him. âOf course it is.â
She stared at the scroll for a long moment, as if checking it for errors only she could see.
Then she nodded once, decisively. âOkay,â she said.
Zuko tilted his head slightly. âOkay?â
âIâm done,â she declared. You glanced down.
âAll of it?â
âYes,â she said firmly. âIt is complete.â She dipped the brush one last time, her movements slower nowâless official, more careful. Like even she could tell this part mattered differently.
I hope to see you again soon.
She pressed her lips together, then added:
I miss you.
Her grip on the brush tightened slightly, but she kept going.
I love you.
No hesitation this time. Just certainty.
Izumi lifted her hand, studying the ink as if confirming it was strong enough to hold the feeling. Then she gave a small nod. As if satisfied. She set the brush down. ââŠFinished,â she announced.
Then Izumi pushed herself up from her chair. First she walked to you. She tugged lightly at your sleeve until you leaned closer. And without any ceremony at all, she pressed a small, quick kiss to your cheek.
âThank you,â she said simply.
You blinked, smiling softly. âYouâre welcome.â
Then she turned.
Walked to Zuko next. He didnât even have time to straighten before she reached up, grabbed his sleeve like she owned it, and tugged him down slightly. A kiss to his cheek too.
âThank you,â she repeated, just as seriously.
Zuko froze for half a second. Then, very quietly: ââŠAnytime.â
Izumi stepped back, satisfied, as if the matter was officially concluded. She looked at the scroll one last time. Then added, almost like an afterthought: âAnd I expect a response.â
You let out a soft laugh.
Zuko didnât.
But the corner of his mouth lifted anyway as he reached over, gently steadying the scroll so it wouldnât roll away.
Izumi was already standing there like sheâd just concluded a royal summit.
âAlright,â you said, gently straightening up. âThatâs enough excitement for today.â
Zuko nodded once, already half-reaching to gather the scattered brushes and scrolls. âAgreed,â he said. âItâs getting late.â
Izumi froze. Slowly turned her head. ââŠWhat?â
You blinked. âItâs bedtime.â
Zuko added, completely calm, âYes. Time for bed.â
There was a beat of silence.
Thenâ
âNOOOOOââ Izumiâs entire soul left her body. She threw her arms up like she was personally betrayed by the universe itself, stepping back from the table in pure outrage.
You were unable to hide your smile. âOh, the joys of parenting.â
Zuko didnât even look back. ââŠThe joys,â he echoed dryly.
After weeks of planning, arguing, reorganizing, and nearly losing your mind more than onceâthe date had been chosen, the ceremony finalized, and every last detail rehearsed down to the smallest movement.
You knew where to stand.
When to speak.
How to move, how to bow, how to exist under the weight of a hundred watching eyes.
Everything was ready. That was the problem. Because now there was nothing left to prepare. Nothing left to delay. Just the day itself.
And apparentlyâ
getting ready for that day takes an entire lifetime.
Or at least it feels like it.
Youâve been standingâno, posedâfor what must be hours, while an army of attendants moves around you with terrifying precision.
Layers.
There are so many layers.
Fabric draped, adjusted, pinned. Jewelry placed, removed, replaced again because âthe symmetry must be exact.â Your hair has been redone at least three times already, each version somehow more intricate than the last.
You donât dare move unless instructed.
Which is difficult, because your legs are starting to question your life choices.
âDonât move.â
âIâm not moving.â
âYou moved.â
âI breathed.â
âThat counts.â
You stare straight ahead. This is your life now. Somewhere behind you, you hear familiar footsteps. âCan we come in?â Kataraâs voice calls gently. Before anyone answers, the door opens anyway. Toph walks in first. âWow,â she says immediately, arms crossed. âThis room is tense.â
Katara follows, offering the attendants an apologetic smile. âWe wonât interrupt for long.â
âYou already have,â one of them mutters under her breath.
Toph grins. âGood.â
You let out a quiet, relieved breath when you see them. âHi,â you say weakly.
Kataraâs eyes land on youâand she stops. Completely. For a second, she just stares. Then her expression softens into something warm. âWowâŠâ
That alone makes your stomach flip. âWhat?â you ask, suddenly self-conscious.
âYou lookâŠâ she trails off, smiling a little wider. âYou look amazing.â
You blink. âReally?â
âYes, really.â
Toph tilts her head slightly, listening. ââŠWell, Iâve got nothing,â she says. âIâm sure itâs great though.â
You huff out a small laugh. âThanks, Toph. Very helpful.â
âI could describe your heartbeat?â she offers.
âNo.â
Katara laughs quietly, stepping closer. She carefully avoids the chaos of fabric pooling around you, crouching just slightly to adjust one of the outer layers. âSeriously,â she says softer, âyou look beautiful.â
You glance down at yourself.
The dressâno, robesâare⊠a lot.
White, rich crimson and gold, layered like something out of history itself. The sleeves are long and flowing, embroidered with patterns that catch the light with every tiny movement. The collar sits high and elegant, the detailing intricate enough to make your head spin if you look too long.
And the skirtâ
is absolutely ridiculous. It spreads out around you like a small territory of its own, layers upon layers cascading outward in heavy, ornate folds.
You shift your foot slightly. Immediately regret it. âI canât walk in this,â you say.
One of the attendants gasps like youâve committed a crime. âYou will glide.â
âI will trip,â you correct.
âYou will not trip.â
âI will absolutely trip.â
Toph snorts. âIf you fall, Iâm not catching you.â
âTraitor.â
âIâm blind, not a miracle worker.â
Katara covers a laugh with her hand.
You try to take a careful step forward. The dress does not cooperate. It resists. You freeze. ââŠThis is bigger than me,â you say slowly.
âIt is meant to reflect your status,â an attendant replies.
âI have too much status.â
Toph grins. âYeah, you do.â
Katara shakes her head, still smiling, then gently fixes a small detail near your shoulder. âYouâll get used to it.â
âI donât have time to get used to it.â
âYou have⊠today,â she offers.
âThatâs not reassuring.â
Another attendant steps in, adjusting the final piecesâhair ornaments, delicate chains, everything placed with almost ceremonial care.
âDone,â she finally says.
The room stills. You donât move. Youâre almost afraid to.
Katara takes a small step back to look at you properly again. Her expression softens even more. âOkay,â she says quietly. âNow you really look like a Firelady.â That word again Firelady. It doesnât hit as sharply this time. Still heavy. But not crushing.
Toph tilts her head slightly again. ââŠSo are we done or are we still decorating her like a palace?â
âWeâre done,â one attendant says with a sigh of relief.
âGood,â Toph replies. âBecause if I have to stand here any longer, Iâm rearranging something.â
You laughâsoft, a little nervous, but real. Your hands smooth over the fabric again, slower this time. Heavier. But not unbearable.
Katara reaches for your hand briefly, squeezing it. âYouâre ready,â she says gently.
You inhale. Slow. Steady. ââŠI hope so.â
From somewhere outside, distant but unmistakableâvoices. Movement.
The palace shifting into place. Itâs time.
And suddenly walking in the dress is not the biggest problem anymore.
Sokka is pacing again. He has not stopped pacing. Aang is trying to breathe in a very intentional spiritual pattern. Iroh is winning at life by doing absolutely nothing except tea.
Zuko is standing. Very still. Very focused. Very obviously about to leave. âIâm going to see her,â he says simply.
Sokka immediately whirls around. âNO.â
Zuko pauses. âNo?â
Sokka points at him like this is the most obvious thing in the world. âYou canât see the bride before the ceremony!â
Zuko stares at him. ââŠWhy.â
Aang raises a hand gently. âItâs a tradition thing.â Zuko blinks once. âThatâs not a reason.â
Sokka looks personally offended. âItâs BAD LUCK.â
Zuko does not look impressed. âI donât believe in that.â
Tophâs voice comes from somewhere nearby. âI donât believe in most things and even I think thatâs a thing.â
Zuko ignores her. He turns again toward the door.
Sokka physically steps in front of him. âNope. Absolutely not. You are the Firelord AND groom. You cannot break the rules AND the structure AND the cosmic balance of this wedding.â
Zuko deadpans. âMove.â
Sokka does not move.
Aang awkwardly smiles. âMaybe⊠we could compromise spiritually?â
Iroh hums softly from his seat. âTradition exists to comfort people, not restrict love.â
Sokka points at Iroh immediately. âNOT HELPING.â
Iroh takes a sip. âI am helping myself.â
Zuko exhales slowly through his nose. âIâm not doing anything ceremonial,â he says. âI just want to see her.â
Sokka crosses his arms. âThatâs exactly what the curse wants you to do.â
Zuko pauses. ââŠWhat curse?"
Sokka gestures vaguely. âThe wedding curse.â
Zuko looks at Aang.
Aang slowly lowers his hand. âI think thatâs more cultural metaphor than literal curse.â
Zuko looks back at Sokka. âSo there is no curse.â
Sokka hesitates. ââŠThere is emotional consequence.â
Zuko stares at him for a long moment. Then turns again.
Sokka immediately blocks him again. âNOPE. Not happening. I will physically stand here if I have to. I am the planner. I am the strategist. I am the only thing holding this entire ceremony together.â
From the side, Toph comments: âThatâs depressing.â
Sokka: âTHANK YOU, TOPH.â
Zuko closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them again, he is very calm (or atleast pretends to be). âIâm going,â he says.
Sokka gasps. âYou wouldnât.â
Zuko walks forward. Sokka does NOT move. Zuko keeps walking.
Sokka panics. âAANGâDO SOMETHINGââ
Aang blinks. Then slowly floats a little higher, hands raised in front of him like heâs about to mediate world peace. âAlright,â he says carefully, âI think everyone needs toââ
Zuko keeps walking. Sokka lunges again.
Aang moves. Just⊠between them. And somehow it works. Zuko stops immediately. Not because heâs forced, but because itâs Aang after all.
âZuko,â Aang says softly, âI understand you want to see her.â
Zuko exhales. âGood.â
Aang nods. âBut⊠I also understand tradition.â
Zuko deadpans. âI donât.â
Aang smiles politely.
Thenâ
he lifts both hands slightly. And a soft gust of air gently pushes Zuko one step back. Not violently though. Zuko pauses. Looks at him. ââŠDid you just airbend me away from my own wedding.â
Sokka is still staring at Zuko like heâs trying to mentally calculate how to out-strategize airbending. Then he snaps his fingers. âOkayânew plan.â
Toph groans immediately. âOh no.â
Sokka turns to her like heâs just had a genius idea handed down by the spirits themselves. âToph. Describe her.â
Silence.
Toph slowly turns her head toward him. ââŠWhat?â
Sokka points toward the hallway dramatically. âDescribe her! Zuko wants to know what she looks like right now!â
Zuko immediately: âThatâs not what I said.â
Aang lowers his hands slightly, confused. âI think he said he just wants to see her.â
Sokka waves him off. âSame thing emotionally.â
Toph stares at Sokka. Dead still. ââŠAre you serious.â
Sokka nods eagerly. âYes! Just tell us how she looks!â
Toph squints. ââŠIâm blind.â
Sokka pauses. Then very quietly: ââŠMy bad.â
Toph exhales through her nose like she is rethinking every life choice that led her here. âI hate all of you,â she says calmly.
Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. Aang looks like heâs trying very hard not to laugh. Zuko exhales. Then, quieterâbut firmer: âI donât need to know what she looks like right now.â
A pause. Aang tilts his head slightly. âOh?â
Zukoâs expression shifts just a little. Less annoyed. More worried. âI just want to know sheâs okay,â he says.
Silence. That one lands differently. Even Sokka pauses for once.
Toph interrupts instantly, grinning. âSheâs awful, by the way.â
Zuko stiffens. âWhat?â
Aang straightens. âToph, donâtââ
But Toph is already fully committed to chaos. âSheâs so anxious,â she says dramatically. âLike, really bad. Heart racing. Hands shaking. Sheâs convinced sheâs going to trip on her dress, fall down the stairs, and break both legs before she even reaches the aisle.â
Toph continues, completely unfazed. âYeah, and then she said if she breaks her legs sheâll have to be carried and itâll be humiliating and youâll probably leave her at the altar out of pity.â
Zuko stops. Completely still. ââŠShe said that?"
Toph nods immediately. âYep.â
Sokka looks horrified. âThatâs horrible! Why would she think that?!â
Toph doesnât even blink. âOh, it gets worse,â she says casually.
Aang: âTophââ
âShe also thinks the sleeves are too long,â Toph continues, counting on her fingers now. âLike, dangerously long. Sheâs convinced sheâs going to get tangled, panic, accidentally set something on fire, and then the whole ceremony goes up in flames.â
Zuko freezes again. ââŠWhat?â
Sokka gasps louder. âFIRE? At a FIRE NATION WEDDING? ThatâsâŠ.actually, thatâs kind of on theme but stillââ
Aang just looks stressed hearing what Toph was telling about your wellbeing.
Toph keeps going, fully committed now. âOh, and she said something about the jewelry being so heavy itâs pulling her whole posture down and she might just slowly collapse mid-vow.â
You are, in factâ
completely fine.
Sitting like royalty. Literally. Back straight, chin slightly lifted, hands resting elegantly in your lap while attendants move around you with careful, almost reverent precision.
If anyone saw you right now, theyâd think you were born for this. (You were not. But fake it till you make it.) Katara stands beside you, watching everything with quiet admiration.
ââŠOkay,â she says softly, âyou actually look like you belong on a throne.â
You glance at her. âDonât tell me that, itâll go to my head.â
âIt already has.â
âThatâs fair.â
An attendant gently lifts a final piece of jewelryâsomething delicate but unmistakably importantâand settles it carefully against your collar. Another adjusts the layers at your shoulders.
Everything is precise. Measured. Perfect. You barely move. Honestly? Youâre kind of vibing now. Maybe itâs the acceptance. Maybe itâs the fact that thereâs nothing left to panic about. Maybe itâs just exhaustion. Either way, youâre calm.
Thenâ
ââachoo!â
The sneeze hits out of nowhere. Sharp. Sudden. Echoing slightly in the room. Everything stops. Every attendant freezes like time itself just paused. You blink. ââŠOh.â
Katara looks at you. âBless you?â
Before you can respond, one of the attendants steps forward immediately, bowing her head with absolute seriousness. âMay the ancestral flames recognize this as a purification of breath, and may no illness dare approach you on this sacred day, my lady.â
Silence. You stare at her. Katara stares at her. Then Katara and you stare at eachother with raised eyebrows, impressed.
It happens almost instantlyâthe kind of silence that only exists when everyone is paying attention.
At the center, beneath banners of crimson and gold, stands Zuko. Attempting to appear still and composed. Every inch of him looks exactly like what the nation expects.
But he hasnât stopped looking at the doors. Not once. Aang stands nearby, hands folded, calm in that quiet, grounded way of hisâbut even he glances at Zuko for a second. ââŠYouâre nervous,â Aang murmurs under his breath.
Zuko doesnât look at him. ââŠNo,â he replies.
Aang smiles faintly. âYou havenât blinked in a while.â
Zuko ignores that. His focus doesnât waver. Because he hasnât seen you all day. Not once. Every time he tried someone stopped him. (Heâs still mildly annoyed about that.)
And now thereâs nothing between him and this moment except a pair of slowly opening doors. He exhales.
But thereâs something under it.
Something that wasnât there before all of thisâanticipation.
The doors open wider. Light shifts across the stone. The crowd goes completely still.
And Zuko, for just a fraction of a second, forgets how to breathe.
Because there you are. At the top of the steps. Framed in gold and firelight, draped in layers that should overwhelm youâbut donât. Not even close.
You donât look unsure. You donât look overwhelmed. You donât look like the person who thought she might not be ready. You look like you belong here.
Aang notices it immediatelyâthe way Zukoâs posture shifts just slightly, the tension easing in a way no one else would catch. ââŠOh,â Aang murmurs softly.
Zuko doesnât respond. He canât.
Because you start walking. And suddenly nothing else matters.
The distance between you closes slowly.
Step by step. Measured. Controlled. Perfect. And Zuko is gone. Not physically. Heâs still standing exactly where heâs supposed to be, posture straight, shoulders set, every inch of him composed the way a Fire Lord should be in front of his entire nation.
But none of that is what heâs aware of anymore.
Because youâre walking toward him.
And for a moment his mind doesnât quite catch up with what heâs seeing. It doesnât register as real. You look like something out of history. Out of paintings. Out of the stories people tell about moments that only happen once in a lifetime and never quite feel real even when they are.
The gold, the white, the red, the movement of the fabric as it follows youâit all blends together into something almost unreal.
But itâs not the dress. Itâs not the ceremony. Itâs you. And thatâs what gets him. Because he knows you.
He knows the way you laugh, the way you complain, the way you definitely said earlier that you were going to trip in this exact outfit.
And now youâre here walking like you were born for this. Like youâve always belonged in this place beside him. And his chest tightens. Not painfully. Just⊠suddenly. Unexpectedly.
His breath catches for a secondâand he doesnât even notice that he hasnât taken the next one yet.
Thereâs a faint shift in his expression.
Barely there. The smallest softening around his eyes. A flicker of something warmer, something quieter than anything he shows the world.
Aang notices it from the side. No one else does. Because Zuko doesnât move. Doesnât react. Doesnât break composure.
But his gaze..his gaze doesnât leave you for even a second. And somewhere in that stillnessâsomething in him falters. Just a little. His eyes sting. It takes him a second to even understand why.
And when he does, it almost startles him. Because he doesnât cry. Not here. Not like this. Not in front of a hundred watching eyes. But the feeling is there anywayâsudden, overwhelming, impossible to push down fast enough. Not sadness. Not even nerves. Just⊠too much.
Too much of the moment. Too much of you.
Too much of the fact that this is real. That youâre here. That youâre walking toward him. That you chose this. Chose him.
He blinks. Once. A little sharper than necessary. And the feeling pulls back just enough for him to breathe again. Controlled. Steady. Contained.
No one notices. No one except maybe Aangâ and even he looks away like he didnât see anything.
Zuko straightens just slightly, grounding himself again, pulling that familiar control back into place. But somethingâs changed. Itâs still there. That softness.
That quiet, overwhelming something he canât quite name. And when you get closer, close enough that he can actually see you, not just look at you. It hits again. Softer this time. But deeper.
His voice, when he finally speaks, is low. Careful.
Like if he doesnât hold it steady, it might give him away. ââŠYou lookââ He stops. Because nothing he says feels like enough. Not for this. Not for you. So instead, he exhales quietly, the smallest hint of a smile pulling at his expression. ââŠYouâre here,â he finishes instead. And somehow that says everything he meant to say.
The distance between you disappears completely.
Youâre standing in front of him now.
Close enough to see the way his composure is holdingâbarely. Close enough to notice the softness still lingering in his expression, even as he straightens again, even as the weight of the moment settles back into place around both of you.
For a second, itâs just quiet. Not the crowd.
Not the ceremony. Just⊠you and him.
Thenâ
voice breaks through.
A calm, steady and practiced one. A Fire Sage steps forward, robes shifting softly with the movement, presence grounding the entire space in something older than both of you.
âFire Lord Zuko,â he begins, voice carrying clearly across the courtyard, âyou stand before the people of the Fire Nation, before your ancestors, and before the one you have chosen.â
The words settle into the air. Heavy and intentional. Zuko doesnât look away from you.
Not once.
âDo you take Y/N,â the Sage continues, âto stand beside you as your partner, your equal, and your Fire Ladyââ
A slight pause.
ââto share in both the burden and the honor of the nation, and to walk with you in all things, as long as you both shall live?â
Silence. Not empty but waiting.
Zuko doesnât hesitate. âI do.â
And somehow, that feels bigger than anything else he could have said.
The Sage inclines his head slightly, then turns to you.
âY/N.â Your name sounds different like this.
âDo you take Fire Lord Zuko,â he continues, âto stand beside you as your partner, your equal, and your husbandââ
Another pause.
ââto share in both the burden and the honor of the nation, and to walk with him in all things, as long as you both shall live?â
Your breath steadies. Your thoughts donât spiral this time. You donât overthink.
Because standing here, looking at him, everything feels⊠clear. âI do.â Your voice doesnât shake. Not even a little. The Sage nods once.
Then steps back.
And for a fraction of a second, nothing happens.
Like the world itself is holding its breath.
Thenâ
âYou may step forward.â
You already are. Just slightly. Close enough that thereâs barely space between you now.
Zukoâs hand finds yoursânot part of the ceremony, not instructed, just instinctâand his grip is warm, steady, grounding. His other hand lifts slowly and carefully. Like heâs still half-aware of the world watchingâand half completely gone from it. His fingers brush lightly along your cheek.
And for a moment, everything fades again.
No crowd. No expectations. No titles. Just this. Just him. He leans in. Not rushed. Not hesitant. Certain. And when his lips meet yours, itâs soft. At first.
Like heâs still grounding himself in the reality of it. Like heâs making sure youâre really there.
Then it deepens, just slightly, warm and steady and full of everything he didnât say out loud.
The world comes rushing back in all at once.
The sound of the crowd rising. Applause, cheers, something louder than either of you expectedâbut distant, like itâs happening somewhere far away.
Because youâre still there. Still close.
Still holding onto him like none of that matters as much as this does. And when he pulls back just enough to look at you again, thereâs that softness. That same quiet, overwhelmed look he had when he first saw you.
The silence after the kiss doesnât last long.
It never could. Because this isnât just a private moment between two peopleâit is a declaration, witnessed by an entire nation held in breathless attention.
Zuko lingers only for a second longer, forehead almost brushing yours, like heâs reluctant to fully step back into the world again.
Then he does. Slowly and reluctantly. But he does. His hand remains in yours.
The Fire Sage steps forward again, voice steady as he turns toward the crowd. âBehold,â he announces, and his words carry like flame across stone, âthe union of Fire Lord Zuko and Y/N, Fire Lady of the Fire Nation.â
A pause.
Thenâ
âMay their rule bring balance. May their bond bring strength. May the Fire Nation stand renewed in their joined flame.â
The courtyard responds immediately.
A synchronized movement ripples through the gathered crowd as nobles, officials, and attendants begin to lower themselves.
One by one. Then all at once. A wave of bows. Heads lowered. Bodies bent in respect. Acknowledgment.
Not just of a marriageâbut of a future.
Zuko turns slightly with you still beside him.
And together you both bow. Not deep enough to diminish either of you.
Not performative. But equal. Side by side.
Firelord and Firelady.
When you rise again, the sound returns fullyâcheers now, filling the courtyard with something closer to celebration than silence.
But Zuko doesnât look at them. Not for long.
His gaze finds you immediately again, like it never left. And for a moment, everything else fades back into distance.
Aang is somewhere off to the side, smiling softly like heâs relieved the universe didnât collapse.
Sokka looks like heâs arguing with reality itself about whether that went âcorrectly enough.â
Katara is watching you with a small, proud smile.
Toph looks mildly offended that she canât âseeâ the ceremony but still declares, âYeah, that felt dramatic enough.â
But Zuko. Zuko only sees you. He leans slightly closer, voice low so only you can hear. ââŠYou didnât fall.â
You let out a quiet breath, almost laughing. âI was very close,â you admit.
His thumb brushes your hand once, subtle, grounding. âI wouldâve caught you,â he says.
You glance at him. ââŠThatâs reassuringly confident for someone who also almost cried earlier.â
His expression flickersâjust slightly. ââŠI did not almost cry.â
You raise an eyebrow. A pause.
Then, quieter: ââŠI blinked.â
You smile. âSure you did.â And for the first time all day, he actually lets himself smile back.
Not for the nation. Not for the ceremony.
Zuko doesnât let go of your hand. Not even when the formal part of the ceremony finally loosens its grip on the courtyard. Instead, he simply shiftsâslightly closer to you, closer in a way that feels less like protocol and more like instinctâand offers his arm. You take it with no hesitation, because of course you do. And just like that, youâre linked.
The weight of your dress makes the movement feel almost ridiculous at first, layers of fabric shifting and trailing behind you like a slow-moving flame. It should be hard to walk in. It should be overwhelming.
But Zuko adjusts without thinking, slowing his pace just enough to match yours.
Like heâs done it a thousand times already.
The doors open again. Not the ceremonial ones this time. The larger ones. The ones that lead out toward the terraces overlooking the capital.
And the sound changes immediately.
The controlled silence of nobles and officials is gone. Replaced by something louder.
Living.
The Fire Nation capital stretches out beneath youârooftops, streets, gathering crowds already forming in anticipation. People are looking up before they even see you, sensing something is happening.
Then you step into view. And everything erupts. Cheering floods the air. Not formal applause.
Not polite acknowledgment. Real sound.
Real people.
You pause for just a moment at the top of the steps, taking it inâthousands of citizens gathered below, faces turned upward, banners hanging between buildings, sunlight reflecting off fire-lit architecture.
Zuko doesnât stop beside you. He just stays with you. Then, together, you begin to walk down.
Step by step. Arm in arm.
The dress moves like molten gold and flame with every motion, heavy but flowing, commanding attention whether you want it or not.
Zuko leans slightly closer as you walk. ââŠYouâre doing fine,â he murmurs.
You glance at him. âI feel like Iâm being slowly swallowed by fabric.â
âThatâs normal,â he replies.
âThat is not reassuring.â
âItâs accurate.â
You huff a quiet laugh despite yourself.
Above you, small bursts of firelight begin to rise.
Like floating lanterns made of flame itselfâsoft glowing fireballs lifting into the sky one after another, drifting upward above the city like stars being returned to the air. The crowd reacts immediately, louder now, cheers echoing off stone and rooftops.
You tilt your head slightly. âDid they plan that?â
Zuko watches the firelights for a second. ââŠYes,â he says. A pause.
ââŠProbably uncle.â
That earns a soft laugh from you. Of course itâs Irohâs idea (and a good one).
As you walk further along the terrace path, the people below shift, waving, calling out, celebrating. Zuko raises his free hand slightly in acknowledgmentânot grand, not distant. Just enough.
And you follow his lead. A little slower. A little uncertain. But you do it, because theyâre looking at you too now. Zuko leans closer again, just enough that his voice disappears into the noise of the crowd. âI didnât think Iâd ever have something like this,â he says quietly.
You glance at him. The firelight reflects in his eyes. ââŠMe neither,â you admit.
A beat. Then softerâ
âIâm glad itâs you.â That makes him pause.
Just slightly. Like it lands deeper than expected. He doesnât look away from the crowd when he answers. ââŠGood,â he says quietly. âBecause Iâm not letting go of you now.â
You smile a little, squeezing his arm gently. âGood,â you echo. âBecause I donât think Iâd let you.â
For a moment, just a moment, the noise fades again. And as the firelights rise higher into the sky above the cheering city, Zuko leans just slightly closer to you. Just for you.
ââŠI love you,â he says quietly but certainly.
Like it was always meant to be said here.
You donât hesitate. âI love you too.â, you whisper back, smiling.
Itâs finally done. And very long. Oops. Hope yâall liked it. As always hit the request box and thank you all for the appreciation for my fics.đ
I love love love the ending for your Third times a charm fic, but Im a sucker for angst and I was thinking maybe the whole reason why Zuko only has one kid in the first place is because he hates seeing us in pain, like maybe something went wrong during the delivery. Anyways, I love your writing!
thank youuu đđ since he has canonically only one kid, I personally think it is because smth happened during the delivery to the mother of his child or he wants to avoid sibling rivalry, like he and Azula used to have.
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pairing: àŠàŠ firelord! zuko x wife! reader
àȘââŽsypnosis: After two miscarriages, you begin to lose hope of ever becoming a mother. But Zuko stays by your side through all of it, refusing to let you go through it alone.
mentions: established relstionship, marriage, miscarriage, pregnancy, angst | fluff ending
The room is too quiet.
Not peaceful quiet. Just⊠empty.
Youâre sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing in particular. The curtains are half-drawn, but you donât remember closing them.
You donât remember much of anything lately.
Your hands rest in your lap, fingers loosely intertwined. You keep looking at them like theyâre supposed to be doing something, like thereâs something you forgot. There was.
You swallow. Your chest feels⊠hollow. Not even tight anymore. Just hollow. That almost feels worse.
Thereâs a soft knock at the door. You donât answer. It opens anyway. You donât need to look to know itâs him.
His steps are quiet. Careful. Like heâs learned how to move around you without making things worse. âHey,â Zuko says softly.
You hum faintly, just so he knows you heard him.
He doesnât ask how you are. Heâs stopped doing that. You hear him set something down. Probably tea. He always brings something, like maybe itâll help even a little.
It usually goes cold. He comes closer, but not too close at first. Gives you space. Always giving you space. ââŠCan I sit?â he asks.
You nod. He sits beside you, leaving just enough room between you that you donât feel crowded. For a while, neither of you says anything.
Zuko glances at you once, then away again. Like heâs checking, not staring.
âI had the council dismissed early,â he says after a moment. âThey were being⊠persistent.â
You almost smile. Almost. âAbout what?â you ask, even though you already know.
A pause.
ââŠIrrelevant things,â he says.
You let out a small, tired breath. âThat means yes.â
He doesnât deny it. âThey donât get to talk about you like that,â he says, quieter now. Thereâs something restrained in his voice. Not anger exactly. Just⊠control.
You shake your head slightly. âThey will anyway.â
Zuko doesnât respond to that. Because he knows youâre right.
Silence settles again. You stare down at your hands. âThey said itâll happen eventually,â you murmur.
Zukoâs posture shifts just slightly beside you. âPeople say that,â he replies carefully.
âThey said it the first time too.â Your voice doesnât break. Thatâs the worst part. Itâs just⊠flat. Like youâve run out of energy to make it sound like anything else. âI believed them,â you admit. âI thought⊠okay, maybe it was just bad luck.â
Another pause.
âThen it happened again.â Your fingers tighten just slightly against each other. âI donât think itâs bad luck anymore.â
Zuko turns his head toward you fully now.
You donât look at him. âItâs me,â you say quietly.
âNo,â he says immediately. Not loud. But firm.
You shake your head. âIt has to be.â
âIt doesnât.â
You let out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh.
âZuko.â
He doesnât back down. âItâs not you.â
You finally look at him. Your eyes are tired. Dull in a way they never used to be. âThen what is it?â you ask.
He hesitates and that hesitation says everything.
Not doubt about you.
Doubt about how to even put it into words without it hurting more. ââŠI donât know,â Zuko admits quietly. Itâs honest. Unpolished. Very him.
You let out a small, shaky breath through your nose, like that answer almost makes it worse because at least blame wouldâve been simpler.
Your gaze drops back to your hands. Silence stretches again. Then your voice comes, quieter than before.
âItâs not even just⊠the heir thing.â
Zukoâs eyes shift slightly toward you.
You swallow.
Your fingers curl a little tighter together in your lap. âThatâs what everyone talks about,â you continue. âThatâs what the council means when they say things like âstabilityâ and âfuture lineâ like Iâm⊠like Iâm a piece of a strategy.â
A pause.
Your throat tightens, but you keep going anyway.
âBut thatâs not what hurts the most.â That makes him still. Completely. You finally look down, blinking a little too slowly.
âI wanted it,â you say. Your voice cracks just slightly on wanted. âI actually wanted it.â You let out a breath that doesnât feel like it reaches your lungs properly.
âI wanted to be a mother,â you admit, softer now. âNot because I was supposed to be one. Not because of the Fire Nation or the court or any of that.â
A beat.
âJust⊠because I thought I could be.â Your hands tremble faintly, and you press them together a little harder like that will fix it.
âAnd now it feels likeâŠâ you swallow, âlike I keep getting told I canât even have that.â
The words sit heavy between you both.
Zuko doesnât rush in to fix them.
He just exhales slowly, like heâs trying to make space for what you just said instead of pushing it away.
âI thinkâŠâ he starts carefully, then stops, restarting softer, âI think youâve been carrying too much at once.â
You donât answer.
Your eyes are still down, but your breathing has changedâless steady now, like the emotions are catching up all over again.
Zuko shifts closer.
Not invading.
Just⊠closing the distance until you can feel him there properly.
âMaybe you should take a break,â he says quietly.
Your fingers twitch in your lap. âA break from what,â you murmur, almost bitter without meaning to be. âMy life?â
âNo,â he says immediately. Firm, but gentle. âFrom everything thatâs been weighing on you like this.â He hesitates for half a second, like heâs choosing words he wonât regret. âAnd⊠from the pressure. From expectations. From people talking like they get to decide things about you.â
Your throat tightens again. Because it sounds nice. But it also sounds impossible. You let out a shaky breath. âIt doesnât stop just because I step away.â
âI know,â Zuko says softly. Thatâs what makes you finally look at him again. He looks tired too. Not in the same way as you. But in that quiet, steady way of someone whoâs been holding the weight of too many responsibilities and refuses to let it fall on you instead. âI canât make it all disappear,â he adds. âBut I can make it smaller for you. At least here.â
A pause.
His voice softens even more. âAnd you donât have to think about any of that right now.â
Your eyes sting again, and this time you donât even try to stop it.
One tear slips down before you can blink it away. Then another. Zuko notices immediately.
Of course he does. He shifts first, lying down slowly on the bed, then gently tugging you with himânot forceful, just inviting.
You go. Carefully at first. Then all at once.
You end up on top of him, not fully, just enough that your weight is there, real and grounding. Your head rests against his shoulder almost instinctively, like your body already knows where it belongs. Zuko adjusts instantly. One arm wraps around your back. The other comes up slowly, settling near your head like heâs anchoring you there.
âThere,â he murmurs softly. âYouâre okay.â
You shake your head slightly against him, but itâs weak. âIâm not,â you whisper.
âYeah.. I know.. sorryâ he says again with a little bit of guilt that the
Your breathing stutters, and suddenly the dam breaks a little more fully. You try to swallow it down, but it doesnât work.
It just spills out quietly into his shoulder.
Zuko doesnât flinch. Doesnât pull away.
He just holds you closer, like itâs the most natural thing in the world. âItâs alright,â he says softly, brushing a hand through your hair. âLet it out.â
Thatâs when it really hits you. Just⊠finally allowed. Your shoulders shake slightly as you cry, face pressed into him, overwhelmed and exhausted and everything at once.
Zuko shifts just enough to press a soft kiss to your temple. Then another, just slightly lower on your cheek. Slow. Reassuring. Like heâs trying to remind you youâre still here.
The garden is quieter than the palace.
Leaves moving gently in the wind. Water somewhere nearby. The kind of sound that doesnât ask anything from you.
You sit on the edge of a stone bench, hands resting in your lap again, like they always seem to lately when you donât know what to do with them.
Zuko is standing a few steps away at first.
Like he can tell this moment is different, even before you say anything. You donât look at him when you speak. âI found out something today.â Your voice is calm. Too calm.
That already makes him focus. He doesnât move closer yet. Just watches you carefully. ââŠOkay,â he says softly. âWhat is it?â
A pause.
You inhale. It feels heavier than it should. âIâm pregnant.â Like the world pauses for half a second to make sure it heard correctly.
Zuko doesnât speak immediately. His expression shifts, but not dramatically. Itâs subtle. Something in his eyes softening, then tightening, then softening again like heâs trying to find the right place to put the feeling.
You finally look at him. And itâs not what you expected. Because he doesnât look like heâs celebrating. But he doesnât look afraid either.
He looks⊠careful. Like this is something precious and fragile at the same time. ââŠAre you okay?â he asks first.
Not âare you sure.â Not anything else. That alone almost breaks something in you. You let out a small breath that isnât quite a laugh. âI donât know,â you admit honestly.
He nods slowly like that makes sense. Then he finally slowly walks over. He sits down beside you on the bench, leaving a small space at first like always. You donât lean away.
He notices that. His hand rests on his knee for a moment before he speaks again. âThis doesnât have to beâŠâ he starts, then stops, choosing his words. âIt doesnât have to be something you carry alone in your head.â
Your fingers curl slightly. âIâm not excited,â you say quietly. Then, after a pause: âIâm not sad either. It just feels⊠strange.â
Zuko nods once. âI understand that,â he says.
You glance at him. Heâs not pretending this is simple. That helps more than anything. He exhales slowly. âI thinkâŠâ he begins carefully, âafter everything, it makes sense that it doesnât feel like just happiness.â
A pause.
Then softer: âBut Iâm here. Whatever it is for you.â That lands differently again. Because it doesnât demand anything from you. Not joy. Not certainty. Not even hope. Just presence.
You look down at your hands again. âI keep thinking,â you admit, quieter now, âwhat if I start hoping too much again.â Your voice tightens slightly. âAnd thenââ You stop. You donât finish it. You donât have to.
Zuko shifts closer this time. Slow enough that you can feel it before it happens. âI know,â he says softly. âBut we donât have to decide how this story ends right now.â
You let out a breath. Something in your chest loosens just a little. âThat sounds dangerously optimistic for you,â you mutter.
That earns the smallest hint of a smile from him.
âItâs controlled optimism,â he says.
You huff faintly. Silence again. But itâs different now. Less empty. More shared.
Zukoâs hand moves slightly on the bench between you, not grabbing yours yet, just there. Offering.
You look at it for a moment.
Then slowly, you take it. His fingers close around yours immediately.
The room is warm in a way you donât fully register at first.
Soft light. Quiet movement. The distant sound of water being changed, cloth being folded, someone speaking in a low voice and then stopping when they notice youâre awake. Everything feels far away except the one thing right in front of you.
Zuko is there first.
Sitting beside the bed, still in that same controlled stillness he always has when heâs trying not to overwhelm a moment. But his eyes are different right now. Not sharp. Not guarded.
Just waiting.
For you.
âYouâre awake,â he says softly.
You try to answer, but your throat feels dry. You manage a small nod instead. Thereâs a pause.
And then he leans forward slightly. Careful. Like heâs been carrying something fragile the whole time and is finally allowed to bring it closer. âSheâs here,â he says.
Your breath catches. Not dramatic. Not sudden.
Just like your body finally understands what those words mean before your mind can fully catch up. Zuko stands slowly and steps out of the way.
And then you see her. Wrapped gently in soft cloth, small in a way that doesnât feel real at first. Sheâs being held by one of the attendants, but even that feels temporaryâlike sheâs been waiting for this exact moment.
For you.
Your hands move before you even decide to. âCan Iââ you start, voice rough. The attendant nods immediately, carefully placing her into your arms. And everything else disappears. The weight is so small. So impossibly small. And yet it feels like the entire world has been placed against your chest.
You freeze for half a second, like youâre afraid to breathe too hard. Then she moves. Just a little.
A tiny shift against you. And something inside you breaks open in the softest way. Your breath shakes. âOh,â you whisper. Itâs not even a word that means anything. Just sound. Just feeling.
Zuko is still beside you. Watching. But not interrupting. Not speaking. Like he knows this moment belongs entirely to you. You look down at her properly now. Her face is scrunched slightly in sleep, peaceful in a way that makes your chest ache in a way you didnât know could be warm. âSheâsâŠâ your voice falters. Beautiful. Perfect. Real. You donât finish the sentence. You canât. A tear slips down your cheek before you even notice itâs there. Then another. And this time you donât try to stop it. Because itâs not the same kind of crying anymore.
Itâs release. Itâs disbelief.
Itâs love arriving all at once after so much waiting and fear and loss.
Zuko shifts closer and sits beside you again, slower this time, like heâs afraid to disturb the air around her. âYouâre shaking,â he murmurs gently.
âI know,â you whisper back, but youâre smiling through it. A small, fragile thing at first. Then real. You adjust her slightly in your arms, instinctively protective already, even though sheâs so safe it almost feels unreal.
âSheâs here,â you say again, quieter this time, like you need to hear yourself say it to believe it.
Zukoâs hand rests lightly on the edge of the blanket near her. Not touching her directly yet. Just close.âI know,â he says. And then, softer: âSheâs perfect.â That does it.
Your breath breaks completely for a second, and you laugh through tears you didnât even realize were still coming. âSheâs going to hate how serious you are,â you manage weakly.
That earns the smallest exhale of a laugh from him. âProbably,â he admits.
Silence settles again, but itâs not heavy. Itâs full. You look down at her again, and your fingers adjust carefully, instinctively protective now in a way that feels like itâs always been there. âI was so scared,â you admit quietly.
Zukoâs expression softens immediately. âI know,â he says.
You swallow. âBut sheâs here.â Your voice cracks slightly on the last word.
Zuko nods once. âSheâs here,â he agrees. And for a long moment, thatâs all there is. Just the three of you. And the quiet, overwhelming beginning of something that finally feels like hope that stayed.
Zukoâs hand shifts from the edge of the blanket to your shoulder instead, grounding you gently, like heâs checking that youâre really here too.
You donât look away from the baby for a long moment. Then, softly, you whisper, âWe did it.â
Zuko exhales, almost like heâs been holding his breath for years without noticing. âYes,â he says quietly. âWe did.â
You finally glance up at him. Your eyes are still wet, but softer now. Lighter in a way they havenât been in a long time.
He meets your gaze immediately. No hesitation. Just him. You shift slightly, careful not to move too much, and Zuko leans in at the same timeâlike it was always going to happen this way.
His hand comes up to your cheek, warm and steady. And then he kisses you softly. A quiet, grounding kiss that feels like everything finally settling into place.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests briefly against yours. ââŠIâm proud of you,â he murmurs.
You let out a shaky breath that turns into a small smile. âDonât start being emotional now,â you whisper. A faint hint of a smile tugs at his mouth. âI wonât make any promises,â he says.
And behind you, the baby stirs softlyâreminding you both that this is real.
All of it.
This was chilling in my drafts. You can always hit the request box too. đ
Zuko doesnât look away. He never does when it matters. Thereâs something steady in his expressionâuncertain, maybe, but certain about this.
Your brain doesnât catch up.
Your body does.
You step forward and throw your arms around him before you can even form a proper answer, gripping him tight like if you let go too soon the moment might disappear.
For half a second, he goes still in surprise.
Then his arms come up around you, slower, careful but firm.
âWas thatââ he starts, slightly muffled against your shoulder, ââa yes?â
You let out something between a laugh and a breath.
âYes!"
If you had known what it really meant to marry the Firelord, you might have taken a second longer before saying it.
ââthe ceremonial procession must follow Fire Nation tradition preciselyââ
ââand the guest list will require approval from multiple councilsââ
ââyou will, of course, need to be briefed on appropriate conduct as Fire Ladyââ
You blink.
Once.
Twice.
There are too many voices.
Too many people telling you so many things at the same time.
Scrolls are spread across the table in front of youâthick, official, important. Every single one seems to carry expectations you didnât realize you had agreed to.
You nod at something someone says.
Youâre not sure what.
ââthe symbolism of the ceremony is deeply tied to Fire Nation historyââ
âRight,â you say automatically.
ââand your role will be observed not only domestically but internationallyââ
âOf course,â you hear yourself respond.
ââas Firelady, you will representââ
You stop listening. Not because you want to. Because suddenly, you canât.
Firelady.
The words donât sound like you.
They something distant. Fixed. Something people look at.
Judge.
Expect things from.
ââand we will begin etiquette training immediatelyââ
You stare down at the scroll in front of you.
At the neat, precise ink. At the life thatâs already being written out for you in careful, deliberate strokes. Just a few months ago, it had been simple. Just him and you.
Nowâ
ââthere are also expectations regarding public appearancesââ
ââand your presence during council gatheringsââ
ââand diplomatic responsibilitiesââ
You swallow. Smile. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a quiet thought slips inâ soft, but impossible to ignore.
Youâre not just getting married.
Youâre becoming something else.
You keep nodding all along with what the advisors are telling you because what else are you supposed to do? Somewhere between saying yes and sitting in this room, the responsibility had⊠shifted. Not officially. No one had said it outright. But it was there.
Zuko was Firelord.
That meant council meetings, political disputes, rebuilding a nation that had spent a century at war. It meant decisions that couldnât wait, problems that didnât pause for something as small as a wedding.
So the weddingâ
fell to you.
Not entirely. Not technically.
There were advisors. Planners. Servants. Entire groups of people whose job was to assist.
But every decision still circled back.
Every question still landed in front of you.
Every expectation quietly settled on your shoulders like it had always been meant to.
ââthe final approval will, of course, be yours.â
Of course it will. You force a small smile. âRight.â
Because Zuko trusts you. And that should feel reassuring. It does feel reassuring.
âŠdoesnât it?
ââadditionally, there are several traditions you will need to familiarize yourself with as Fireladyââ
Firelady.
Again.
You inhale slowly.
Before you can respond, the doors to the chamber swing open with enough force to make half the room flinch.
âGOOD NEWSâ!â
You donât even have to turn around.
Relief hits before you can stop it. âSokka,â you say.
ââwe got your letter!â he continues, striding in like he owns the place, waving a slightly crumpled scroll in the air. âWellâhis letter, technically, but Iâm counting it as yours because this is clearly a joint life decisionââ
Katara is right behind him. âWe came as soon as we could,â she says, breath a little rushed but smiling.
Toph walks in last, hands in her pockets. âTook you long enough,â she says.
The tension doesnât disappear, but it shifts, like someone opened a window and let actual air in.
The advisors look⊠concerned.
Confused.
One of them clears their throat. âThis is a restrictedââ
âTheyâre with me,â you cut in immediately.
And for the first time since this meeting started, that feels like something solid. Something yours.
Sokka makes it two steps into the room before stopping short, staring at the table. ââŠWhy are there so many scrolls?â
You look at him. Then at the table. Then back at him. âWedding planning,â you say flatly.
He narrows his eyes. Then, slowly, like heâs recognizing a battlefield layout: ââŠOh no.â
Toph snorts.
Aang tilts his head. âIt looks⊠organized?â
âItâs not,â you and Sokka say at the same time.
Katara steps closer, scanning the papers, her expression shifting as she takes in the details. âOh,â she says quietly.
Not overwhelmed. Not confused. Understanding. And somehow thatâs worse. Because now itâs real.
All of it.
You glance down at the scroll in front of you again. Then at your friends. And for a brief second, something tight in your chest loosens.
Just a little.
ââŠSo,â Sokka says, rolling up his sleeves with way too much confidence, âwhere do we start?â
You let out a breath thatâs almost a laugh. âHonestly?â You gesture vaguely at everything.
âI have no idea.â
âAlright,â Sokka says, clapping his hands together like heâs about to lead a war council. âNew plan. We divide and conquer.â
âNo,â you say immediately.
âNo?â he repeats.
âNo.â
âWell, thatâs unfortunate because I already divided things,â he says, gesturing to the table. âSeating arrangements, ceremonial flow, decorative symbolismââ
âWhy are you saying it like that,â Toph mutters.
You blink. âWhy would there be emergency backup scenarios for a wedding?â
Sokka gives you a look. âHave you met people?â
ââŠFair.â
Katara steps in before he can escalate further. âMaybe we should start with something simple,â she suggests gently, picking up one of the scrolls. âLike the ceremony layout.â
âGreat,â you say. âSimple. I like simple.â
One of the advisors immediately leans forward. âThe layout must follow traditional Fire Nation alignment, of courseââ
âOf course,â you echo weakly.
ââwith the Fire Lord positioned at the eastern axis to symbolize renewal andââ
âOr,â Sokka cuts in, grabbing a brush, âwe make a better system.â
He starts sketching something aggressively onto a blank sheet.
Toph tilts her head. âThat looks stupid.â
âYou canât even see it!â
âExactly,â she shoots back. âAnd I still know itâs stupid.â
Sokka gasps. âThis is tactical brilliance!â
âPretty sure you just invented a traffic problem,â Toph says.
Aang leans over the table, trying to follow along. âMaybe we can combine both ideas? Keep the tradition, but also make it⊠flow better?â
âThatâs what Iâm doing!â Sokka insists.
âThatâs not what youâre doing,â Katara says, not even looking up.
Meanwhile, youâre staring at two different scrolls that both say completely different things about where youâre supposed to stand during the ceremony.
âWhy are there three versions of this,â you ask no one in particular.
âBecause the Fire Sage council hasnât finalized their recommendation yet,â one advisor replies.
âOf course they havenât,â you mumble.
Sokka suddenly grabs two fabric samples from the side of the table and holds them up.
âOkay, important question. Red or darker red?â
You stare at him. âThose are the same color.â
âThey are not the same color,â he says, offended.
He turns to Toph. âWhich one looks better?â
Toph doesnât even hesitate. âI donât know, Sokka. Iâm blind.â
A beat.
Thenâ
ââŠRight,â Sokka says.
Toph smirks. âGlad we cleared that up.â
Aang lets out a small laugh before catching himself. âOkayâokay, letâs stay focused. This is supposed to be a happy thing.â
âIT IS A HAPPY THING,â Sokka says, still holding the fabrics. âItâs just also a complicated thing.â
Katara finally sets down the scroll sheâs been reading and looks at you.
âHey,â she says softly. âWeâll figure it out. One step at a time, okay?â
You nod.
Because thatâs the right response.
Because she means it.
Because you want to believe it.
Across the table, two advisors start quietly arguing about ceremonial timing.
Sokka is now somehow negotiating with them like this is a war council.
Toph has abandoned her spot and is leaning back in her chair, clearly entertained.
Aang is tryingâreally tryingâto keep everyone calm.
Katara is reorganizing the scrolls into something that almost resembles order.
And youâ
youâre still standing in the middle of it all.
Watching. Listening. Trying to keep up as the voices start overlapping again.
ââthe Fire Lordâs entrance must precedeââ
ââno, the sequence requiresââ
ââif we adjust the timing hereââ
ââthat disrupts the symbolismââ
ââwhat if we just move the chairsââ
âTHE CHAIRS ARE SYMBOLICââ
Something tight pulls in your chest.
You inhale. Then exhale.
Slowly.
Itâs fine. Itâs just planning. Itâs just one day.
Just a wedding.
âŠright?
Your gaze drifts down to the scroll in front of you again.
Firelady.
The words sit there, unmoving. Heavy. Permanent. And for the first time since everyone burst into the room, the noise doesnât feel funny anymore.
You find Zuko in a corridor that definitely wasnât meant for stopping and talking.
Heâs mid-step when you call his name.
He turns immediately anyway.
That alone does something to your chest that you donât have time to examine.
âYouâre busy,â you say, already knowing.
âI can be unbusy,â he replies, like itâs the simplest thing in the world.
It makes you smile before you can stop it.
You fall into step beside him. âNo, you canât.â
He glances at you. âI can.â
âYou literally have three council meetings and whatever that thing is with the northern delegates.â
He pauses. âItâs not a thing.â
âItâs a thing,â you say.
ââŠItâs a thing,â he admits.
You both walk for a few seconds in comfortable silence. Then you clear your throat.
âSo,â you begin carefully, âabout the ceremonyââ
Zuko slows slightly. âWhat about it?â
You hesitate. Suddenly it feels stupid. Small. Like youâre interrupting something importantâwhich, technically, you are.
But heâs looking at you like youâre the only thing in the hallway that matters, so you continue anyway.
âI was thinking⊠do you care about the seating order? Because Sokka is trying to redesign it like itâs a battle strategy and I donât think the Fire Nation is ready for whatever heâs doing.â
A faint flicker of something like amusement crosses his face. âI trust you,â Zuko says simply. âDo what you think is best.â
That should feel like pressure. Instead, it feels like warmth. You exhale a little laugh. âThatâs not helpful.â
âItâs honest.â
âI know,â you say softer.
He slows to a stop, just briefly, and looks at you more directly now. âIf itâs too much,â he adds, voice quieter, âyou donât have to handle everything alone.â
For a second, the noise of the palace fades.
Just him. Just that steady tone like heâs trying to hold the world still for you, even for a moment.
âI know,â you repeat, but it comes out softer this time. And you almost lean into him properly.
Thenâ
âYour Majesty!â
Of course. A messenger appears at the end of the corridor like a curse given form.
Zuko straightens immediately. âYes?â
âCouncil emergency meeting has been moved forward. They require your presence immediately.â
Zuko closes his eyes for half a second.
Then he looks back at you. Something apologetic flickers there, but it doesnât change the fact that he has to go. âIâll come back,â he says.
âYou always say that,â you mutter, but thereâs no real bite in it.
âI always do,â he replies.
That earns you a small, helpless smile.
He reaches out briefly taking your hand just long enough to squeeze it once.
Then he lets go. And is gone. Just like that.
You stand there for a moment, staring at the empty space he left behind.
Somewhere far down the hallway, you hear another door open, another problem being born.
You inhale slowly.
ââŠI am going to hit someone,â you say quietly to no one.
Behind you, a voice calls out.
âWho are we hitting?â Sokka asks eagerly.
You turn your head slightly.
ââŠEveryone,â you answer.
Toph snorts somewhere off to the side.
Katara sighs. âDonât encourage her.â
Aang, gently: âMaybe we should take a break?â
You close your eyes. Yeah.
A break sounds nice. Unfortunately, a royal wedding planning does not believe in breaks.
The room is quieter than it was earlier.
Thatâs the problem.
The chaos didnât endâit just split into smaller conversations, softer voices, scribbling pens instead of shouting arguments.
And somehow that makes it worse.
Because now thereâs space to think.
You sit at the edge of the table, staring at a stack of scrolls you didnât ask to exist in your life.
Fire Nation etiquette. Royal protocols. Ceremony sequences. Diplomatic expectations.
You try to focus on Kataraâs voice as she gently organizes something beside you.
âOkay,â she says carefully, âthis part isnât mandatory. Itâs more traditional than required.â
âMore traditional than required,â you repeat faintly.
âYeah,â she nods. âSo if it feels like too much, we canââ
âItâs all too much,â you say before you can stop yourself.
The room pauses. Not dramatically.
Just⊠subtly. Like everyone heard you, even if theyâre pretending they didnât fully register it.
You force a breath in. Then out.
âItâs fine,â you add quickly. âI justâyeah. Itâs fine.â
Katara watches you for a second longer than necessary, but she doesnât push. Thatâs the thing about her. She understands without making it louder.
Sokka is arguing with an advisor about banner placement again. Toph has moved chairs around âfor funâ and refuses to elaborate. Aang is trying to mediate a disagreement about ceremonial timing like itâs a philosophical debate about peace.
And youâ
youâre suddenly not really there.
Because your eyes land on one of the scrolls again.
Firelady.
Not your name. Not really you. Just a role. A position.
Something you step into and never really step out of. You swallow. Hard. It hits you slowly at first, like a thought you almost donât let finish forming.
This isnât just a wedding. This is the point where everything changes and doesnât go back.
No more just being part of Team Avatar.
No more disappearing into the world without consequence. No more being just⊠you. You stand up so abruptly your chair scrapes back.
âHeyââ Katara starts.
But youâre already shaking your head.
âI needââ Your voice catches. You clear your throat. âI need air.â
No one stops you. You donât think they even realize how serious it is until youâre already halfway out the door.
You donât go far.
Just far enough that the noise disappears.
A balcony. Stone cold under your hands as you grip the railing, staring out at the palace gardens like they belong to someone else.
Because soon, they kind of will.
Your reflection in the glass panel is faint, warped by lantern light. You look⊠the same. And not at all. âIâm notâŠâ you start quietly. Then stop. Try again.
âIâm not ready for this.â The words feel ridiculous the moment they leave your mouth. Like youâre admitting something youâre supposed to have already accepted.
You donât hear the door at first.
Or maybe you doâyou just donât react.
Because your hands are still on the railing, and your thoughts are still somewhere far too loud to compete with anything else.
Footsteps follow after a moment. Not rushed. Not loud. Careful in a way that already tells you who it is. Zuko doesnât speak immediately.
He just stops a few steps behind you, like heâs trying to understand the shape of the silence before interrupting it.
Then, quietly: âThey told me you came out here.â
Of course they did. Katara. Or Aang. Or both. You let out a breath that almost turns into a laugh but doesnât quite make it. âOf course they did,â you repeat flatly.
A pause.
Then Zuko steps closer, just enough that you can feel him there without needing to look.
âYou donât have to talk about it,â he says.
Itâs not avoidance. That somehow makes your chest tighten more. You shake your head once. âI just⊠I thought I could do this.â
âYou can,â he says immediately.
So simple. So certain. It almost hurts.
You finally turn your head slightly, just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. âThatâs not what I meant.â
Zukoâs expression shiftsânot confusion, exactly. Recognition. He understands more than heâs saying. He always does.
You swallow. âIâm becoming something else,â you say, quieter now. âAnd I donât know how to do that without⊠losing everything I was before.â
That lands between you both. Still.
Zuko doesnât rush to fill it. When he finally speaks, his voice is lower.
âYouâre not losing it.â
You let out a small, humorless breath. âIt feels like it.â
He steps closer again, slowly, like heâs giving you space even while moving in.
âI felt that too,â he says.
That makes you look at him properly now.He meets your gaze without hesitation.
âWhen I became Fire Lord,â he continues, âI thought I had to become someone completely different. Someone perfect. Someone who made up for everything that came before.â His jaw tightens slightly. âBut that doesnât work.â
You should respond. You should say something. Anything. âI donât know if I can do this,â you say. Your voice is thinner than you meant it to be.
Zuko doesnât interrupt.
That alone almost undoes you more.
You let out a shaky breath, staring out at the gardens because looking at him feels too hard right now. âItâs not just a wedding,â you continue, words starting to spill now that theyâve finally found a way out. âItâs not justâŠjust us. Itâs everything. Itâs being watched, and expected, and judged, andââ
Your throat tightens. You swallow hard, trying to push through it anyway. âI keep hearing it,â you say, quieter now. âFirelady. Firelady. Like itâs⊠like itâs already decided what Iâm supposed to be.â Your fingers tighten on the railing.
âAnd I keep thinkingâŠwhat if Iâm not good enough for that?â You laugh once, but it breaks halfway.
âWhat if Iâm just⊠wrong for it?â
Thatâs when your voice finally wavers for real.
Not planned. Just⊠gone.
âIâm trying,â you whisper, frustration creeping in now, sharp and exhausted all at once. âIâm really trying, but thereâs so much and everyone just keeps talking like I already am this person and Iâm notâŠIâm not there yet and I donât know if I ever will beââ
Your breath stutters. You donât even notice the tears until your vision blurs slightly. You blink. Hard. ââŠI canât mess this up,â you say, quieter now, almost like youâre confessing it to yourself more than him. âI canât. Not for a whole nation. Not for you. Not forââ
Your voice breaks. And you stop.
Because suddenly itâs too much to keep talking.
Too much to hold together. Your shoulders shake once, small and involuntary, like your body is reacting before your mind can catch up.
You donât even fully realize youâre crying.
Not at first. It just feels like pressure finally finding a way out.
Zuko doesnât say anything immediately.
Your fingers tighten against the railing like youâre trying to hold yourself together by force.
âI just need a secondââ you start, but your voice betrays you again, cracking right in the middle.
You donât get to finish.
Zuko moves. No pause. No hesitation.
One second thereâs space between youâ
the next, his arms are around you.
Firm and certain. He pulls you in close, one hand coming up to the back of your head, pressing you gently against his shoulder before you can turn away, before you can hide, before you can pretend youâre fine.
âIâm fine,â you mumble into his shoulder, voice muffled, unconvincing even to yourself.
âSure you are,â Zuko says. Flat. Dry. Blatantly sarcastic.
You let out a weak, offended sound against him. âI amââ Your voice wobbles again halfway through the sentence.
Zuko doesnât even let you finish.
âMm,â he hums softly, like heâs acknowledging something that is absolutely not true, his tone gentler now despite the sarcasm. âCompletely fine.â
You huff, trying to pull back just enough to argue with him, but his hand at the back of your head keeps you right where you are. Not forceful.
âZukoââ
âStay,â he murmurs quietly. And something in the way he says it, soft, but certain, makes you stop resisting.
His other hand shifts slightly, coming up to your face. Careful. Slow.
Like heâs giving you time to react.
His thumb brushes along your temple, just lightly at first, tracing small, absentminded circles against your skin. The motion is so gentle it almost distracts you from everything else.
Almost.
âYouâre shaking,â he says under his breath.
You didnât even notice that either.
âIâm not,â you try again, weaker this time.
âRight,â he replies, that same faint, dry edge still thereâbut softened now, wrapped in something warmer. âThat must be my imagination.â
You let out a quiet, frustrated sound, pressing your face further into his shoulder like that might hide the fact that heâs completely right.
Zukoâs thumb keeps moving, slow and steady against your temple. Grounding.
âYou donât have to pretend with me,â he adds, voice lower now. No sarcasm this time. Just honest.
You swallow, your grip on him tightening again despite yourself. âIâm not pretending,â you mutter.
Another pause.
Then, gently: âYou are.â Not accusing though.
Your breath catches again. Because yeah.
You are.
Zuko shifts slightly, just enough to tilt his head so his forehead rests lightly against yours when you finally look up, his hand still cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushes just beneath your eye now, catching the dampness there.
ââŠYouâre crying again,â he says quietly.
You blink, like thatâs news to you.
âOh,â you manage, a little dazed. âIââ
You donât even finish.
Zukoâs expression softens furtherâif thatâs even possible at this point. âThere it is,â he murmurs, almost like heâs talking you through it. âYou donât have to hold it back.â
âIâm not trying toââ you start, but your voice breaks again immediately, ruining the attempt.
His thumb traces another slow line along your temple, then back again, unhurried, patient.
âI know,â he says softly. And he does.
Thatâs the worst part. Or maybe the best.
You let out a shaky breath, your forehead dropping forward until it rests against his again.
âI hate this,â you whisper.
âI know.â
âI feel like Iâm failing at something I havenât even started yet.â
Zukoâs hand stills for a second. Then resumes, just as gentle as before. âYouâre not failing,â he says quietly.
âIt feels like it.â
âYeah,â he admits. âIt does.â
You glance at him, a little surprised by that.
He doesnât look away. âBut that doesnât make it true,â he adds.
Your lip trembles again, and you look away this time.
Zuko doesnât push. He just leans in slightly, pressing a soft, brief kiss to your templeâright where his thumb had been tracing circles moments before.
âIâve got you,â he murmurs against your skin.
Your eyes close without you meaning them to. Your shoulders finally drop, just a little.
ââŠYouâre annoyingly calm,â you mumble weakly.
Zuko huffs the faintest breath of a laugh.
âIâm trying very hard,â he admits.
That pulls the smallest, broken smile out of you. And without thinking, you lean back into him again.
His arms settle around you like they were meant to be there, steady and warm, one hand still resting at your temple, thumb brushing slow, absentminded circles like heâs memorized the motion already.
Then, softer now: âItâs going to be okay,â he murmurs.
You donât respond right away.
âI mean it,â he continues, a little more certain this time. âWeâll figure it out. Iâll⊠try to be there more. For the planning. Not just the important partsâthe annoying parts too.â
A faint pause.
âI donât want you doing all of this alone.â
That makes something in your chest shift again, less heavy this time.
âAndâŠâ he hesitates slightly, like heâs choosing his words more carefully now, âitâs not all bad.â
You huff quietly against him. âThatâs a bold claim.â
Zukoâs thumb pauses for half a second, then resumes its slow tracing. âYouâre not just gaining responsibilities,â he says. âYouâre gaining⊠influence. A voice people will actually listen to. You can change things. Help people. Make things better.â
You go quiet, because that part, you hadnât really let yourself think about.
Zuko shifts slightly, just enough to look at you properly again. âAnd you wonât lose everything you were before,â he adds. âYouâre still you. Just⊠with more reach.â
Thereâs a small pause. "âŠAt least I get to wear three outfits.â
Zuko blinks. Once. "What?â
You pull back just enough to look at him, still sniffling a little, but thereâs something lighter in your expression now. âThe ceremony. There are, like, three outfit changes. Thatâs something.
Zuko stares at you. âAh,â he says slowly. âYes. Of course.â
You nod, very serious now. âItâs important.â
âClearly,â he replies. Then, suspiciously calm: âYouâll look gorgeous inââ He stops mid-sentence. His eyes narrow just slightly. ââŠWait.â
You blink at him.
Zuko tilts his head a fraction, studying you like heâs trying to solve a very confusing problem.
âHow is that your number one priority,â he asks slowly, âwhen I thought the best thing about this was that weâre getting married?â
You stare at him. Deadpan. âNevermindâ"
Zuko doesnât even let you finish.
âOf course,â he says immediately, completely serious.
You blink.
He keeps holding you, thumb still tracing slow circles at your temple like nothing in the world is more normal than this conversation.
âThe outfits are way more important.â
You squint at him. âExcuse me?â
Zuko nods once, very firm. âYes.â
ââŠYouâre joking.â
His expression doesnât change. ââŠI am,â he says.
But the corner of his mouth twitches.
And thatâs how you know. You let out a weak, disbelieving laugh that still has a little leftover shakiness in it, and Zuko finally relaxes a fraction more, like hearing that sound did something for him too.
âThere it is,â he murmurs quietly.
You lean your forehead against his chest again, this time not collapsing, just⊠resting.
âIdiot,â you mumble.
âMm,â he agrees softly. âBut Iâm your idiot.â
That earns him a small, real smile from you this time. His arm tightens slightly around you, just enough to pull you closer without forcing anything.
The palace, the scrolls, the expectationsâeverything still exists.
But for a moment, itâs all just⊠far away noise.
And Zukoâs voice, quieter now, settles above you like something steady. âIâll make sure itâs not too much,â he says. âThe planning. The advisors. All of it.â
A pause.
âAnd if it is,â he adds, âyou tell me. Immediately.â
You hum faintly. âImmediately?â
âYes.â
You tilt your head slightly to look up at him. âEven if youâre having a Council meeting?â
Zuko pauses. ââŠEspecially then.â
That makes you laugh properly this time.
And Zuko, still holding you, looks like heâs decided that whatever the world throws at you two next, heâs already where he needs to be.
Youâre still tucked against Zuko, the world finally quiet for once. Your breathing has evened out just a little, and for the first time in what feels like hours, your chest doesnât feel like itâs actively collapsing.
Thenâ
âAH THERE YOU ARE!!â Sokkaâs voice slices through the balcony like a thrown spear.
You freeze.
Zuko⊠does not. He just closes his eyes for a second. Like a man accepting his fate.
Sokka appears in the doorway with the energy of someone who has been personally wronged by inefficiency.
âHello!â he continues, marching in like he owns the palace now. âWe still have a whole royal wedding to plan?? No time for being lovebirdsââ
He stops mid-step.
Finally noticing the situation properly.
You, still in Zukoâs arms.
Sokka squints.
Behind him, the rest of the Gaang is visible in the doorway: Katara immediately putting a hand over her face. Aang looking politely fascinated.
Toph already smirking like she knew this was going to happen.
âSokka,â Katara says flatly.
Just his name. Nothing else. Pure warning energy.
Sokka ignores it completely. âRight,â he says, pointing between you two like this is a tactical briefing. âRomantic emotional support moment? Very nice. Very important. BUTâwe have seating charts, ceremonial banners, three competing traditions, and I have NOT finalized the emergency contingency planââ
âSokka,â Katara repeats. Same tone. Now sharper.
You slowly lift your head slightly from Zukoâs shoulder.
Still a little puffy-eyed. Still very done with everything. ââŠReally?â you say.
Sokka nods vigorously. âYes! Really! This is a national-level event!â
Zuko finally opens his eyes. Looks at Sokka.
ââŠItâs our wedding,â he says flatly.
Sokka points at him like that proves his point. âEXACTLY!â
Silence.
Toph snorts. Aang tries very hard not to laugh.
Katara just sighs, long-suffering. âSokka.â
He turns. âWhat?â
âYouâre taking this more seriously than the two people getting married.â
Sokka pauses. Considers this. Then: âThatâs because someone has to.â
You stare at him. Zuko stares at him.
Even the wind feels like it pauses for judgment.
ââŠI hate that he might be right,â you mumble into Zukoâs shoulder.
Zuko exhales slowly, still holding you.
âI also hate that he might be right,â he agrees.
Sokka points at her. âYou canât even see the situation!â
âI donât need to see it,â she says. âItâs loud and stupid.â
Aang finally laughs.
Katara pinches the bridge of her nose.
Zuko just tightens his hold on you slightly, like heâs silently choosing peace over violence.
And you bury your face back into his shoulder again. ââŠIâm never getting married,â you mutter.
Zuko, without missing a beat: âYou are.â
Sokka: âYOU ARE AND WE ARE GOING TO PLAN IT PROPERLYââ
âSokka.â Katara says again in that familiar annoyed tone in her voice with her brother.
Toph: âSokka is the worst part of this wedding.â
Aang who tries to be peaceful: âI think itâs kind of beautiful how passionate he is?â
Everyone: âNo.â
Sokka is still talking when Zuko finally moves.
He adjusts his grip around you slightly, like making sure youâre steady, then gently guides you out of the balcony with him.
âAlright,â Katara says immediately, already stepping in like sheâs reclaiming control of reality. âWeâre going back to the planning room.â
Aang floats along beside them like heâs just happy everyone is still breathing.
You let out a tired breath against Zukoâs shoulder as you walk. âI hate all of them,â you mumble.
Zuko doesnât even hesitate. âNo, you donât.â
ââŠOkay, I hate one of them.â
âNo, you donâtâ Zuko says immediately.
âAlright.â
Then, quieter, almost like it slips out before either of you can overthink itâ
ââŠI do feel a bit better,â you admit.
Zuko glances down at you briefly. âI know,â he says simply. And that shouldâve been it.
But then his hand finds yours with no hesitation.
Just fingers slipping into yours like itâs the most natural thing in the world. You look down for a second, then back up at him. He doesnât look back immediately, just keeps walking like itâs normal, like itâs always been like this.
So you squeeze his hand once. Testing it.
He squeezes back immediately.
That does something to your chest.
Something soft. Something annoyingly warm.
As you reach the corridor, Sokka is already mid-sentence again about âoptimal ceremonial efficiency.â
Katara is actively ignoring him.
Toph is walking backwards just to make fun of him. Aang is trying to keep peace like itâs his spiritual duty.
And you and Zuko?
You just keep walking.
Hands linked.
Swinging slightly between you as your steps sync without either of you trying.
Forward.
Back.
Forward.
You lean slightly into Zukoâs side as you walk.
Still overwhelmed. Still nervous.
Still absolutely not ready for whatever âFireladyâ is supposed to mean.
But his hand is warm around yours.
And for now that is enough.
I hope yâall liked it. I can write a part 2 of their wedding if anyoneâs down for that. Donât forget to support the leaked movie when it actually gets released (for Avatar Studiosâthe animators, and writers obv)đ
Katara with her little yellow details (belt and hair clip) to honor Aang and always have him with her. The hairclip also kinda looks like the wings of his glider. Iâm obsessed. My babies.
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