Experiment, Chapter 14
Katara’s robe was the same style as most ladies of the Fire Nation, but the blue matched her eyes and the trim was darker blue (white being a color of death in the Fire Nation). She stood off to the side and very still like she had practiced, though the curious stares she could sense were very unnerving. They were out in front of thousands of people, and it felt like any second this would turn into a riot and they would all end up dead. It occurred to her that maybe she should have asked why people would accept Zuko as their Fire Lord, but as far as she could tell no one objected as Iroh (somehow) lowered the pin into his nephew’s hair.
People bowed instead of cheering and Katara suddenly couldn’t hear beyond the pounding in her ears and when everyone stood she didn’t know what he said, but she saw Zuko’s hand extend and carefully went down the stairs to stand at his right side. Thousands of eyeballs turned in her direction.
Zuko saw his bride-to-be’s eyes go wide, but he waited just a second more before nudging her and muttering, “Don’t faint.”
Katara’s eyes narrowed, but she bit her tongue and smiled a little at the crowd until they were once again walking to the dining hall. “I wasn’t going to,” she hissed back.
“For a second there-”
“Well, that went well,” Iroh said cheerfully, appearing at Katara’s side with Azula in tow. “No last-minute rebellions…I’d call it a success.”
“They’re still in shock,” Zuko said. “That’s all.”
“Maybe they like you.”
“Maybe they’re too busy being shocked by Katara to care one way or another about you,” Azula put in. “Nice. Speaking of, are you going to make her run the gauntlet tonight?”
Zuko shook his head, nearly dislodging his precariously placed crown. “You’re staying long enough to eat a few courses, and then Azula’s going to take you to your room and guard the door with her life.”
Katara bristled. “I’ve studied-”
“You don’t want to deal with the court tonight,” he interrupted. “Trust me.”
“Trust you?” she managed before they were walking into a huge room, past hundreds of aristocrats and soldiers and sailors and-
“Don’t faint,” Zuko repeated as they carefully ascended to the higher table. This time she didn’t bother arguing, concentrating instead on one step at a time. She sat on his left, with Azula to her left, as part of the clever ploy to keep anyone important from talking to her. Azula chatted with Tin Su while her lady ate silently. Occasionally a well-wisher would stray a little too close and receive glares from the royal siblings. She did her best to identify the people throughout the room, though there were more of them than she thought she would ever be able to keep track of.
Mostly, though, in a room filled with people, she felt alone.
As soon as she was in her own room Katara took off the heavy robe and lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She tried to think of home but all she could get through her head was Zuko’s Fire Lord and I’m going to marry him and what is WRONG with this world? I thought it was supposed to be better after the war.
She reconsidered this. Not that Zuko being Fire Lord was bad. It was better than Azula. And really, he wasn’t as crazy as he’d seemed. If there was one word she could pin to his recent behavior, it would be…shy. Of course, her desire not to think along the lines of “I’m joining my life with an angry slimeball” could be blurring her perceptions.
She felt the moon rise, so she slipped outside and down the rope she tied to the balcony and played with the sleepy turtle ducks, letting the smooth motions of waterbending wash away her thoughts for a while.
Finally she dried off and shimmied up the rope and went back into her room, unbraiding her hair as she went for-
CRASH. The fern in her room whipped out as she bent it to wrap around the intruder’s throat.
“Sorry,” Zuko croaked; sighing, Katara sent the fern back to its pot. After sending a puzzled look between it and her, he bent and carefully replaced her hairbrush on the vanity.
“Is the banquet over?” she asked, crossing her arms and trying not to flinch as he lit the two lamps and wall scones.
“M-mostly,” he said, doing a doubletake at her before fixing his eyes on her face.
She realized she was still in her bending clothes, blushed, and stared back. “Any reason you’re in my room?”
“Yes.”
She waited. His gaze wasn’t so much intimidating, as she had thought. It was more…intense, and the intensity was intimidating, but that seemed kind of like an afterthought. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it. She wondered if it was a Fire Nation thing or just something her fiancé had adopted as a survival technique.
“Yesterday-we don’t really have traditions like-oh, take it.” Something dangled from his outstretched hand.
She took it. The leather strap was burgundy, with a gold clasp. Dangling from it was a round token: a lotus, the petals delicately opened and pointed. At its thickest point it was a little wider than her pinkie finger, and the back had a sheer coat of white paint, just enough to tint it. She ran a finger over it and realized it was glass, the finest glass she’d ever felt.
Zuko waited patiently while Katara inspected her gift, hands clasped behind his back, trying not to roll on his feet. He watched her blue eyes narrow as she turned it over in her hands, then joined in the consideration. He was kind of proud of his creation; it wasn’t nearly as good as a master glassbender would be able to create, but it looked nice, and anyway…well…it was okay.
“It’s pretty,” she said finally.
His head nearly exploded. Pretty? Just “pretty”? Did she have ANY idea how long it had taken to make that tiny piece of glass? Besides the hour or two it had taken to practice and come up with a design-and he’d cut his foot on the broken shards (he really needed to stop throwing things when he lost his temper)-and he hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before his coronation-and-and-
“What is it?”
He tried not to twitch. “A betrothal token. I thought-Uncle suggested we observe both cultures, and when you-well.” She stared at the necklace. “It’s a lotus-a water lily, because, you’re a waterbender-” well duh, he thought “-it could be different if you don’t-”
“I do like it,” she said quickly, smiling at little as she lightly ran her fingers over it. “It’s just…funny.”
Now she thought he was funny. Great. Time to sound the retreat. “It’s yours,” he said shortly. “Good-”
“Wait,” she said; he stopped and watched as she bit her lip, her free hand touching her mother’s necklace. She looked at him then back at his gift, squared her shoulders, and took off her necklace and clasped her new one around her slender neck. “How does it look?” she asked shyly.
“Pretty,” he said, a little sulky, though the dark red blended well with her mocha skin. At least he thought maybe it did. Uncle would know for sure. He was better with colors than his nephew.
Her smile widened nervously-he thought maybe her smile was pretty too-and held out the blue necklace. “Here,” she said. “Just so-you know-you have something too. Take it.”
He remembered the look in her eyes when he’d bribed a little girl with that necklace, and knew-and that she would offer it to him-he pushed the thought aside and took it from her. It was just a necklace, though its familiar weight-despite the years since he’d held it-rested easy in his palm.
“You-you took good care of it,” she noted, her eyes on the jewelry, not him. “I trust…”
And that little girl was standing in front of him, but she-
“Goodnight,” he said, to his thoughts and to the girl, bowing, and leaving.