[FIC] Sense and Sensibility (5/16)
Title: Sense and Sensibility, Chapter Five
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Pairing: Eventual Zutara, mentions of Sokka/Suki
Wordcount: 2337
Warnings: none
Summary: Four years after the end of the war, Fire Lord Zuko is told he has two weeks to choose a bride from a group of five girls. Luckily, Uncle Iroh stacked the deck.
Author's Notes: I'm archiving things, so this one (which is my longest finished story to date) was written before season three premiered. Thus it is technically an AU. Chapter titles are from the musical Camelot, because I am a giant dork.
---Chapter Five: C'est Moi---
Zuko found that the time he was allowed to spend with Katara was the best part of every day. The exact time varied, since Lady Junbi was (supposedly) trying to make sure that each girl had a fair chance at him. He dreaded the hours spent with the others. While Lani and Kanai would not shut up when together, neither of them spoke during their allotted time with him. Zuko tried to arrange those meetings in the library so he could at least just get a book and read the entire time. He found that he didn’t care if any of the girls thought him rude. Vana would talk almost non-stop; he’d become a professional at tuning her out. Ming-Ming was a surprising mix of wit and propriety, but she just wasn’t his type. Not that the young Fire Lord had ever really thought about what his type would be.
Mostly what he thought about was the impossibility of his situation. Not the impossibility of the situation itself, mind you, but the impossibility of getting out of it. Zuko did not want to get married. He was not ready to have a wife, and he was not ready to start a family. That wasn’t to say he didn’t want both of those things someday, but not now. Not yet. The more he thought about it, the more miserable he became, because it felt like he only had two options:
Option one was to not choose any of the girls currently at the palace, which would result in being subjected to more of the Quartet’s type (Katara had actually started calling the Earth Kingdom girls that, and he had adopted the name) and eventually have the possible result that he would never marry.
Option two was more difficult. Zuko could choose Katara. The idea was a strange one, for multiple reasons. Zuko kind of hated it. He had been friends with Katara for such a short time, really. Oh, they’d “known” each other for nearly five years, but they’d never been as close as they were now. He could see a future with Katara, and that future included everything he felt a family should be. Even love. But did he love her now? He wasn’t sure. Besides, the idea would only work if she agreed to it. And Zuko knew Katara would never agree to marry a man she didn’t love with every fiber of her being.
These were the things Zuko thought about during those rare moments that he was alone.
--------
Lady Ming-Ming approached Katara after dinner one day. They had all been at the Fire Nation palace for a little more than a week now, and the waterbender was apparently growing ever closer to the Fire Lord. This annoyed Ming-Ming, since she had made almost no progress with him. In fact, he seemed to ignore her. “Princess Katara, I’m wondering if perhaps you forgot our little chat last week.” She’d noticed that after meeting with the Fire Lord, the Southern Water Tribe girl had returned to her old manners and wardrobe.
Katara gave the noblewoman her sweetest smile. “Oh, no, Lady Ming-Ming. I didn’t forget. I decided I prefer to be myself. Also, I found it strange that you would choose to help the girl who appears to be your chief rival in your mission to marry Zuko.” Not that Katara meant to be the chief contender, but she knew it looked that way to the others.
Lady Ming-Ming shook her head. Obviously this child did not understand. “I am not here to marry Zuko, Princess Katara. I am here to marry the Fire Lord. It is a political move, not a romantic one. I have no more feeling for him than I have for, say, a turtleduck and find him no more interesting.”
Katara felt a strong, hot anger rise in her chest. How dare she say such a thing about Zuko! “I suppose the other girls would say the same?”
“They would.”
“Well, none of them are going to get the chance. Fire Lord Zuko has no intention of choosing any of you.”
Lady Ming-Ming laughed. “I suppose he has already proposed to you, then?”
“No!” Katara cried, blushing furiously. Then she thought about it. That was Zuko’s only option, wasn’t it? She wasn’t obligated to accept, but she was his only possible choice. Otherwise he would be subjected to more of Lady Ming-Ming’s type, a type he truly despised. Was that why he was spending so much time with her? So it wouldn’t seem surprising when he proposed, even if he only did it to escape a marriage with one of them? The thought hurt. They were supposed to be friends, and that wasn’t something friends did. But the hurt went deeper than that, for some reason that Katara didn’t understand.
Lady Ming-Ming was tired of the conversation. “If he hasn’t proposed, then your opinions on the matter mean nothing. If you will excuse me, your highness.” She hated the appellation, but her manners forbid her from not using it. Katara nodded vaguely, and Lady Ming-Ming strode down the hall quickly, wanting only to get back to her room so she could scream.
--------
The special activities each night had been Iroh’s idea, much to Lady Junbi’s displeasure. Zuko hadn’t liked the idea much either, but Iroh had given his suggestion in public, with a number of important people present. To dismiss it was not an option for the Fire Lord, no matter how much he wanted to.
And that is how Zuko ended up in a small, throne-like chair (he hated that chair; he would have preferred a cushion on the floor like everyone else) near the fire place in one of the larger parlors, surrounded by the four Earth Kingdom maidens, Katara, his uncle, Lady Junbi, and a select few of the Court. Tonight was “Story Night.” Iroh went first, telling an old fable full of humor and morality. Then one of the nobles told a silly story with little plot and less of a point. No one seemed willing to go next. Those gathered simply looked at each other, wondering who would be brave enough to stand. Iroh turned to Katara. “Princess Katara, you hail from an unfamiliar culture. Perhaps you have a story?”
Katara blushed and thought quickly. “There’s one story that my mother told me when I was young… I don’t think it’s native to the Water Tribes, so you may have heard it before.”
Iroh smiled. “Please, tell it anyway.”
Katara took a deep breath and stood. She let her mind drift back to her early childhood, before the Hundred Years War had caught up to their small village. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Mommy, tell me a story.”
It was a nightly request, and one that her mother always answered the same way.
The little girl was gathered in her mother’s arms and pulled into the warm, fur-wrapped lap. “Another story, Katara? It seems as though you want to hear one every day…” The little girl pouted, and her mother laughed. “All right, all right. Let’s see… Once upon a time there was a merchant who had three daughters. One day he went to meet one of his ships, and he asked his daughters what gifts they would like him to bring back. The first two asked for clothes and jewelry, but the third asked for a single rose.”
“What’s a rose, Mommy?”
“It’s a flower, dear. The South Pole is too cold for them to grow here, but they grow in abundance in warmer places like the Fire Nation.”
“Nothing good comes out of the Fire Nation,” the little girl’s older brother muttered from across the room.
The mother frowned. “Not everything is so black and white, Sokka. Now, where was I? Ah. On his way home, the father stumbled into a garden in which grew the most beautiful roses he had ever seen. He plucked one for his daughter, but when he turned to leave, he met a terrible beast. The garden belonged to the beast, and he demanded payment for the rose. The father explained that the rose was for his youngest daughter, and the beast said if she came to his castle, the debt would be paid. When the father went home he told his daughters what had happened, and the youngest said she would go. He tried to convince her not to, but she insisted.”
The little girl listened attentively, her eyes filled with wonder at the youngest daughter’s bravery. She only hoped she could be so brave someday.
“Life in the beast’s castle was not an unpleasant one, and the girl’s only requirement was to eat dinner with the beast every night. Every night he asked her to marry him, and every night she said no. But soon they were spending more time together, and she started to like the beast. Still she refused his proposals. The girl missed her family desperately, and she told the beast. He let her go visit them, with the promise that she would come back in three days. She promised, but her family begged her to stay just one more day. She did.”
“She broke her promise?”
“Yes,” the mother answered sadly. “When the girl finally went back to the castle, she found the beast in the rose garden. He was dying.”
On the other side of the room, the older brother sat up in mild interest.
“The girl realized that she had fallen in love with the beast, despite his horrible appearance, and she cried. Her tears fell on him and he transformed into a handsome prince. He had been put under a spell by a wicked witch, and now the girl had broken it. He asked her to marry him one more time, and do you know what she said?”
“What did she say?” the little girl asked, her blue eyes wide in anticipation.
Her mother smiled. “She said yes, and they lived happily ever after.” She picked her daughter up as she stood and placed the little girl in her sleeping bag. “Bed time!”
The little girl smiled up at her mother. “When I grow up, I’m going to marry a handsome prince and we’re going to have a garden full of roses!”
“If that’s what makes you happy, dear, then that’s what I want you to have.” The mother kissed both of her children good-night. “Sleep tight, my darlings, and may all of your good dreams come true.”
Katara chose to expand the story, allowing it to play out in her head as she told it. She of course left out her and Sokka’s reactions to the original telling but instead added details she- as a child- had always wanted to know. The main character was given a name: Indah. The scene in the rose garden with Indah’s father and the beast became one of suspense and mild horror. Katara reveled in the story, seeing nothing but the things of which she spoke.
Zuko stared as the waterbender told the story. He was vaguely familiar with it; his mother had probably told it to him once. But something about the tone of Katara’s voice, her choice of words, made it different. He found the expression in her eyes as she spoke mesmerizing. No one noticed when the Fire Lord leaned closer in his chair, because everyone was hanging on Katara’s every word. When she reached the part about Indah not keeping her promise, several of her audience made a small sound of disappointment. She gave Indah’s confession of love in a minute-long soliloquy, bringing tears to the eyes of young and old audience members alike. When she finished, they all sat in silence once more.
“Story Night” ended shortly after that, since no one dared to try to follow Katara’s story. The next night was “Music Night,” with many of the same people in attendance. Iroh began it, apparently making his opening performances the tradition. His song was simple, traditional, and met with reasonable applause. Kanai and Lani sang a duet next. Neither of them had particularly wonderful voices, but their years of lessons were evident and the effect was not unpleasant. The nobles around her, all of whom had been present the night before, urged Katara to take the stage. She tried to refuse, insisting that she couldn’t sing, but they would have none of it. Katara sighed and sang a lullaby her grandmother had taught her shortly after her mother’s death.
Zuko smiled just a tiny bit to himself, holding his laughter in. The nobles should have believed her when she said she couldn’t sing, because she’d been telling the truth. Her singing wasn’t quite awful, but it was far from good. Katara glanced at him as she finished the chorus, and a small smile appeared on her face, mostly in her eyes. It was then that he started to realize it. There was no lightning-bolt of revelation, no sudden knowledge. It wasn’t until Lady Ming-Ming, who had perfect pitch, played her own instrument, and sang a heart-stirring ballad that moved most of the audience, had finished her piece that the thought had even fully formed in his mind. With the applause for Lady Ming-Ming ringing in his ears, Zuko discovered that he was in love with Katara. There was no telling when it had happened; he wasn’t even sure that it had happened all at once. Zuko’s acceptance of this new truth was quiet. There was no sign of it in his eyes, and he even managed to clap for Lady Ming-Ming, putting a smug smile of satisfaction on the noblewoman’s face.
Katara glanced at Zuko, a touch of the earlier hurt coming back. She knew he wouldn’t fall for Ming-Ming. She knew it with every fiber of her being. There was not a shred of evidence in his face or in his more expressive eyes. So why did she feel like she’d just missed something important?
---End Chapter Five---
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Pairing: Eventual Zutara, mentions of Sokka/Suki
Wordcount: 2337
Warnings: none
Summary: Four years after the end of the war, Fire Lord Zuko is told he has two weeks to choose a bride from a group of five girls. Luckily, Uncle Iroh stacked the deck.
Author's Notes: I'm archiving things, so this one (which is my longest finished story to date) was written before season three premiered. Thus it is technically an AU. Chapter titles are from the musical Camelot, because I am a giant dork.
---Chapter Five: C'est Moi---
Zuko found that the time he was allowed to spend with Katara was the best part of every day. The exact time varied, since Lady Junbi was (supposedly) trying to make sure that each girl had a fair chance at him. He dreaded the hours spent with the others. While Lani and Kanai would not shut up when together, neither of them spoke during their allotted time with him. Zuko tried to arrange those meetings in the library so he could at least just get a book and read the entire time. He found that he didn’t care if any of the girls thought him rude. Vana would talk almost non-stop; he’d become a professional at tuning her out. Ming-Ming was a surprising mix of wit and propriety, but she just wasn’t his type. Not that the young Fire Lord had ever really thought about what his type would be.
Mostly what he thought about was the impossibility of his situation. Not the impossibility of the situation itself, mind you, but the impossibility of getting out of it. Zuko did not want to get married. He was not ready to have a wife, and he was not ready to start a family. That wasn’t to say he didn’t want both of those things someday, but not now. Not yet. The more he thought about it, the more miserable he became, because it felt like he only had two options:
Option one was to not choose any of the girls currently at the palace, which would result in being subjected to more of the Quartet’s type (Katara had actually started calling the Earth Kingdom girls that, and he had adopted the name) and eventually have the possible result that he would never marry.
Option two was more difficult. Zuko could choose Katara. The idea was a strange one, for multiple reasons. Zuko kind of hated it. He had been friends with Katara for such a short time, really. Oh, they’d “known” each other for nearly five years, but they’d never been as close as they were now. He could see a future with Katara, and that future included everything he felt a family should be. Even love. But did he love her now? He wasn’t sure. Besides, the idea would only work if she agreed to it. And Zuko knew Katara would never agree to marry a man she didn’t love with every fiber of her being.
These were the things Zuko thought about during those rare moments that he was alone.
--------
Lady Ming-Ming approached Katara after dinner one day. They had all been at the Fire Nation palace for a little more than a week now, and the waterbender was apparently growing ever closer to the Fire Lord. This annoyed Ming-Ming, since she had made almost no progress with him. In fact, he seemed to ignore her. “Princess Katara, I’m wondering if perhaps you forgot our little chat last week.” She’d noticed that after meeting with the Fire Lord, the Southern Water Tribe girl had returned to her old manners and wardrobe.
Katara gave the noblewoman her sweetest smile. “Oh, no, Lady Ming-Ming. I didn’t forget. I decided I prefer to be myself. Also, I found it strange that you would choose to help the girl who appears to be your chief rival in your mission to marry Zuko.” Not that Katara meant to be the chief contender, but she knew it looked that way to the others.
Lady Ming-Ming shook her head. Obviously this child did not understand. “I am not here to marry Zuko, Princess Katara. I am here to marry the Fire Lord. It is a political move, not a romantic one. I have no more feeling for him than I have for, say, a turtleduck and find him no more interesting.”
Katara felt a strong, hot anger rise in her chest. How dare she say such a thing about Zuko! “I suppose the other girls would say the same?”
“They would.”
“Well, none of them are going to get the chance. Fire Lord Zuko has no intention of choosing any of you.”
Lady Ming-Ming laughed. “I suppose he has already proposed to you, then?”
“No!” Katara cried, blushing furiously. Then she thought about it. That was Zuko’s only option, wasn’t it? She wasn’t obligated to accept, but she was his only possible choice. Otherwise he would be subjected to more of Lady Ming-Ming’s type, a type he truly despised. Was that why he was spending so much time with her? So it wouldn’t seem surprising when he proposed, even if he only did it to escape a marriage with one of them? The thought hurt. They were supposed to be friends, and that wasn’t something friends did. But the hurt went deeper than that, for some reason that Katara didn’t understand.
Lady Ming-Ming was tired of the conversation. “If he hasn’t proposed, then your opinions on the matter mean nothing. If you will excuse me, your highness.” She hated the appellation, but her manners forbid her from not using it. Katara nodded vaguely, and Lady Ming-Ming strode down the hall quickly, wanting only to get back to her room so she could scream.
--------
The special activities each night had been Iroh’s idea, much to Lady Junbi’s displeasure. Zuko hadn’t liked the idea much either, but Iroh had given his suggestion in public, with a number of important people present. To dismiss it was not an option for the Fire Lord, no matter how much he wanted to.
And that is how Zuko ended up in a small, throne-like chair (he hated that chair; he would have preferred a cushion on the floor like everyone else) near the fire place in one of the larger parlors, surrounded by the four Earth Kingdom maidens, Katara, his uncle, Lady Junbi, and a select few of the Court. Tonight was “Story Night.” Iroh went first, telling an old fable full of humor and morality. Then one of the nobles told a silly story with little plot and less of a point. No one seemed willing to go next. Those gathered simply looked at each other, wondering who would be brave enough to stand. Iroh turned to Katara. “Princess Katara, you hail from an unfamiliar culture. Perhaps you have a story?”
Katara blushed and thought quickly. “There’s one story that my mother told me when I was young… I don’t think it’s native to the Water Tribes, so you may have heard it before.”
Iroh smiled. “Please, tell it anyway.”
Katara took a deep breath and stood. She let her mind drift back to her early childhood, before the Hundred Years War had caught up to their small village. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Mommy, tell me a story.”
It was a nightly request, and one that her mother always answered the same way.
The little girl was gathered in her mother’s arms and pulled into the warm, fur-wrapped lap. “Another story, Katara? It seems as though you want to hear one every day…” The little girl pouted, and her mother laughed. “All right, all right. Let’s see… Once upon a time there was a merchant who had three daughters. One day he went to meet one of his ships, and he asked his daughters what gifts they would like him to bring back. The first two asked for clothes and jewelry, but the third asked for a single rose.”
“What’s a rose, Mommy?”
“It’s a flower, dear. The South Pole is too cold for them to grow here, but they grow in abundance in warmer places like the Fire Nation.”
“Nothing good comes out of the Fire Nation,” the little girl’s older brother muttered from across the room.
The mother frowned. “Not everything is so black and white, Sokka. Now, where was I? Ah. On his way home, the father stumbled into a garden in which grew the most beautiful roses he had ever seen. He plucked one for his daughter, but when he turned to leave, he met a terrible beast. The garden belonged to the beast, and he demanded payment for the rose. The father explained that the rose was for his youngest daughter, and the beast said if she came to his castle, the debt would be paid. When the father went home he told his daughters what had happened, and the youngest said she would go. He tried to convince her not to, but she insisted.”
The little girl listened attentively, her eyes filled with wonder at the youngest daughter’s bravery. She only hoped she could be so brave someday.
“Life in the beast’s castle was not an unpleasant one, and the girl’s only requirement was to eat dinner with the beast every night. Every night he asked her to marry him, and every night she said no. But soon they were spending more time together, and she started to like the beast. Still she refused his proposals. The girl missed her family desperately, and she told the beast. He let her go visit them, with the promise that she would come back in three days. She promised, but her family begged her to stay just one more day. She did.”
“She broke her promise?”
“Yes,” the mother answered sadly. “When the girl finally went back to the castle, she found the beast in the rose garden. He was dying.”
On the other side of the room, the older brother sat up in mild interest.
“The girl realized that she had fallen in love with the beast, despite his horrible appearance, and she cried. Her tears fell on him and he transformed into a handsome prince. He had been put under a spell by a wicked witch, and now the girl had broken it. He asked her to marry him one more time, and do you know what she said?”
“What did she say?” the little girl asked, her blue eyes wide in anticipation.
Her mother smiled. “She said yes, and they lived happily ever after.” She picked her daughter up as she stood and placed the little girl in her sleeping bag. “Bed time!”
The little girl smiled up at her mother. “When I grow up, I’m going to marry a handsome prince and we’re going to have a garden full of roses!”
“If that’s what makes you happy, dear, then that’s what I want you to have.” The mother kissed both of her children good-night. “Sleep tight, my darlings, and may all of your good dreams come true.”
Katara chose to expand the story, allowing it to play out in her head as she told it. She of course left out her and Sokka’s reactions to the original telling but instead added details she- as a child- had always wanted to know. The main character was given a name: Indah. The scene in the rose garden with Indah’s father and the beast became one of suspense and mild horror. Katara reveled in the story, seeing nothing but the things of which she spoke.
Zuko stared as the waterbender told the story. He was vaguely familiar with it; his mother had probably told it to him once. But something about the tone of Katara’s voice, her choice of words, made it different. He found the expression in her eyes as she spoke mesmerizing. No one noticed when the Fire Lord leaned closer in his chair, because everyone was hanging on Katara’s every word. When she reached the part about Indah not keeping her promise, several of her audience made a small sound of disappointment. She gave Indah’s confession of love in a minute-long soliloquy, bringing tears to the eyes of young and old audience members alike. When she finished, they all sat in silence once more.
“Story Night” ended shortly after that, since no one dared to try to follow Katara’s story. The next night was “Music Night,” with many of the same people in attendance. Iroh began it, apparently making his opening performances the tradition. His song was simple, traditional, and met with reasonable applause. Kanai and Lani sang a duet next. Neither of them had particularly wonderful voices, but their years of lessons were evident and the effect was not unpleasant. The nobles around her, all of whom had been present the night before, urged Katara to take the stage. She tried to refuse, insisting that she couldn’t sing, but they would have none of it. Katara sighed and sang a lullaby her grandmother had taught her shortly after her mother’s death.
Zuko smiled just a tiny bit to himself, holding his laughter in. The nobles should have believed her when she said she couldn’t sing, because she’d been telling the truth. Her singing wasn’t quite awful, but it was far from good. Katara glanced at him as she finished the chorus, and a small smile appeared on her face, mostly in her eyes. It was then that he started to realize it. There was no lightning-bolt of revelation, no sudden knowledge. It wasn’t until Lady Ming-Ming, who had perfect pitch, played her own instrument, and sang a heart-stirring ballad that moved most of the audience, had finished her piece that the thought had even fully formed in his mind. With the applause for Lady Ming-Ming ringing in his ears, Zuko discovered that he was in love with Katara. There was no telling when it had happened; he wasn’t even sure that it had happened all at once. Zuko’s acceptance of this new truth was quiet. There was no sign of it in his eyes, and he even managed to clap for Lady Ming-Ming, putting a smug smile of satisfaction on the noblewoman’s face.
Katara glanced at Zuko, a touch of the earlier hurt coming back. She knew he wouldn’t fall for Ming-Ming. She knew it with every fiber of her being. There was not a shred of evidence in his face or in his more expressive eyes. So why did she feel like she’d just missed something important?
---End Chapter Five---