Chapter Text
Soot was falling heavily, mixing with the snow on the ground, until all that was left was a grey mush. A sense of dread came over her. She had seen the Fire Nation’s violence during the raids, until it finally cost her mother’s life—her last act a sacrifice to keep Katara hidden. Those days were over.
Sokka stepped up beside her, looking out over the bay at the massive Fire Nation Ship that was docking. It was so absurdly large it was not able to reside behind wall of the inner harbor—something they were all quietly relieved about.
“Ridiculous,” Sokka said leaning over the railing, “they’re coming here for a marriage alliance and they’re decked out for war.”
“Would you have expected any different? It’s all they know.”
Sokka turned to her. “Katara—
She knew what was coming, and it wouldn’t make any difference, but she let him get it out of his system anyway.
“You could still refuse,” he said quietly, “you don’t have to go through with it. I’d cover for you.”
Katara smiled faintly. It was still a sticking point for him. Sokka put his hand on her arm, the other one holding on to his spear. “I mean it, if you’re not here they might default to me.”
She sighed, they had this conversation before. “I know Sokka, but there is just no guarantee they would agree to it.”
She looked out over the distant ocean. It was hard to believe that just outside the city lay a graveyard of Fire Nation shipwrecks. Too many to count, just below the surface. On very clear days, when they took out the boat, the top of the command tower of one of them was visible deep in the water.
“It’s worth a shot,” Sokka continued. The wind picked up, tugging at their clothing and hair. She pushed it out of her face, coughing a little to clear the soot from her throat.
“It’s not.” She turned to Sokka. “There is a good chance they would then reject the alliance and just move into attacking us directly.”
Katara looked down at her hands, remembering the eerie light of that moonless night, the feeling of powerlessness without her waterbending—and Yue.
They thought the wall of ice would keep them safe. That the Fire Nation would not be eager to attempt another invasion. When large numbers of Fire Nation ships began moving through the surrounding waters again, people panicked.
“We could hold out for a while..,” Sokka said doubtfully.
“You know that’s not true Sokka. Even last time, if it hadn’t been for Aang or Yue..” she trailed off. Even two years after the attack, Sokka hardly ever discussed what happened to the Northern princess. His face tightened even now. Still he needed to hear it. Aang wasn’t here this time to launch a desperate spirit counter-attack. And no one would be able to sacrifice themselves to calm down the spirits if it came to that either.
Sokka made a frustrated noise, looking down at the ship again. “But.. Zuko,” he said sounding frantic, “You’ll be married to Zuko, Katara.”
Zuko.. she didn’t want to think about him and all he dredged up – the desperation, their understanding, his betrayal –, it made her mad just thinking about it. But Azula genuinely terrified her. Unknowable and deadly. She didn’t want Sokka anywhere near her.
She looked at Sokka and made her argument.
“Azula.”
“I know,” Sokka said, frustrated now, “I know Azula is worse—Katara, I get it.” He stepped closer. “But I don’t care which one is worse. I care that it’s you.”
“You know why, it’s me Sokka, I don’t want to do it either, but it’s the only option we have left.”
As they suspected, she had been selected. The last Southern Waterbender, now tied directly to the royal family, as they moved to unite all nations under their banner. The symbolism wasn’t lost on her, even if it disgusted her.
Sokka made a final, halfhearted attempt to talk her out of it. “You know dad won’t say it, but he didn’t want you to do this either.”
She knew that, but it didn’t matter. “It’s wasn’t his decision to make.”
Hakoda had taken her aside early on. He quietly told her that while he was proud of her for how fiercely she protected their people, but that this would be an enormous sacrifice—the decision would have to be hers.
The marriage contracts went through several rounds of negotiations and faction meetings, until they finally arrived bearing Ozai’s signature and seal, binding his son—the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation—to her. Katara had put all thoughts of her personal history with Zuko out of her mind and signed.
The wind was howling now, it pulled her out of her reverie. She put a hand on her brother’s arm, leading him back to the stairs to descent to the harbor and greet the arriving delegation.
He stopped, putting his hands on hers, anguish clear on his face. “.. Katara”
She turned to him, removing his hand and said with steel in her voice, “It’s no use Sokka. I will never abandon people who need me.”
He sighed. “I knew you’d say that.”
-
They stood at the harbor square in their formal attire, waiting for the Fire Nation’s delegation of Royals to disembark – ready to welcome them to the Northern Water Tribe. The leadership of the Southern and Northern Water Tribes had been assembled together for the occasion, unified by the threat standing at their threshold. Insiders would still know; southerners tended to wear lighter blue parkas, while the Northern garments were darker, heavier in tone and trim.
Katara wore a blend of both.
She had on one of Yue’s purple parkas. It made her uncomfortable— wearing the garments of the departed princess, almost sacrilegious— but in the end practicality had won out. There had been no time to craft something suitably ostentatious before the Fire Nation’s arrival, and they needed to present the image of nobility as cleanly as possible. She ran her fingers over the cool beads at her cuff.
To anchor her within the Water Tribe’s internal hierarchy, Kanna had altered the garment: reinforcing seams, tightening the fit at the waist and shoulders, and adding intricate beading along the hem and cuffs to signify Southern Water Tribe affiliation.
Katara adjusted her collar uncomfortably. Her father stood nearby, next to chief Arnook, both with tight expressions on their faces. Kanna had not been able to face the arrival of the Fire Nation ship, too many memories of the raids that usually followed haunting her.
Movement on the ship drew her eye. A procession was coming down the long gangplank. Fire Nation guards settled into formation before them, leaving a wide gap in their wake.
Fire Lord Ozai stood at the center.
A hush fell over the Water Tribe delegation as they took in the man who had shaped so much of their world through war. The stillness to him suggested absolute power—something that did not need to be asserted to be enforced. He wore gold armor and a velvet cape, a golden flame crown set in his long black hair. A palpable aura of power surrounded him as his cold eyes took in the square in measured silence.
He looked over their delegation impassively. Expression revealing nothing.
The gap left by the guards widened further, revealing Princess Azula settled on his left, and, after a moment, Prince Zuko appearing at his right side.
A jolt went through Katara. It was eerie how much Zuko resembled his father. Same gold eye color, same black hair, the same sharp jawline. It wasn’t even the scar that set him apart. It was his demeanor. Where Ozai felt immovable—like the space around him had been arranged to obey—Zuko seemed removed from it entirely, as though he were observing from a distance.
-
“Welcome to Agna Qel’a,” Chief Arnook said. “It is our honor to receive the Fire Nation royal family as we take our first steps toward cooperation between our peoples.” He bowed a little unevenly, like someone recently trained in unfamiliar etiquette but not yet in the habit of it.
Fire Lord Ozai smiled coldly, “Your welcome is received, Chief Arnook. We are pleased to observe your compliance with the terms of cooperation.”
Arnook went on to say more, but Katara’s attention had drifted. She had expected some kind of stare-off with Zuko and had been determined not to give him the satisfaction, but when she glanced at him despite herself, he wasn’t looking at her at all. He’d glanced at the assembly once, then looked away.
His indifference infuriated her. They were about to get married and he acted as if the matter was beneath his notice. At the very least, he could acknowledge her existence. She forced herself to use that same distance to her advantage, studying him more closely instead.
He’d grown older in the time she hadn’t seen him—taller too. He wore a gold-threaded, embroidered velvet travel cape and a crown that marked him as crown prince. Every so often, the air around him seemed to vibrate faintly; she assumed he was regulating his temperature with firebending.
When he shifted, she noticed his scar. It seemed to sit more tightly against his cheekbone now, the asymmetry in his eyelids much less pronounced. Unbidden, a flash of her hand on his scar—her fingers accidentally brushing his lips—flickered through her mind.
She pushed the thought away.
Suddenly she became aware of Azula watching her, a faint smirk on her lips. The princess had matured too, her cheekbones sharper and smile crueler. Katara narrowed her eyes at her.
They appeared to be moving again—on to the ceremonial signing of the marriage contracts in the great hall. It was purely symbolic; the actual documents had been signed months earlier, but apparently this kind of theatrical staging was necessary when royalty was involved.
“Today we are gathered here to seal the signing of the marriage contract between Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation and Master Katara of the Greater Water Tribe,” Chief Arnook announced. “May this union serve as assurance of lasting peace between our nations.”
He continued for some time about the symbolism of Fire and Water coming together in matrimony and other such trite metaphors. Katara shared a look with Sokka, barely restraining an eye-roll.
Two long tables had been set up in the grand hall, facing each other across the dais. Katara felt an irrational flicker of annoyance at the Fire Nation delegation’s lack of reaction to the intricate beauty of the hall—huge pillars lined the back carved entirely from ice, every surface catching and refracting the light.
It didn’t matter.
As rehearsed, she took her seat at the center of her table. To her right sat her father, Sokka, and Gran Gran; to her left, Chief Arnook and Master Pakku.
At first, Katara assumed the central seat would go to Zuko—that it would be a neat symmetry of status, a prince facing her across the aisle of treaty. Fire Lord Ozai sat down instead. Azula took her seat on his left and after a slight delay Zuko sat on his right.
The documents were set before Katara. On the left, carved ivory and vellum held the stipulations of the marriage, negotiated over the preceding months. On the right, the same agreement lay on weighted paper, bound with a carved gold dragon handle.
She took a moment. Even though it was only symbolic, she suddenly felt the full weight of it—marriage to Zuko, written down in ink and witnessed by two nations. She looked up. He was looking at her now, expression unreadable.
Heart pounding, she steadied her hand and signed her name—first on the Water Tribe document, then on the Fire Nation one. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Chief Arnook stood, taking the documents after they dried. He headed towards Zuko then quickly adjusted and laid them before the Fire Lord.
Something sharpened in Zuko as the papers were set down, eyes tracking the text with sudden, almost forced focus. When Ozai picked up the brush and signed his name, followed by his seal, Zuko’s entire body went rigid. His fingers curled once against his palm, then stilled.
Katara stared at him. The reaction had been brief, almost imperceptible, but it was the first real thing she had seen from him all day. Fire Lord Ozai gave no indication that anything was amiss. She started as she felt his impassive glance at her.
After a short pause that allowed the ink to dry, the documents were gathered, Arnook stepped forward to conclude the ceremony.
Fire Lord Ozai rose.
“Chief Arnook,” he said, inclining his head. Arnook fell still, around them the Northern leadership shifted, unsure how to handle this unexpected development.
Ozai stepped forward. As he raised his hands, a formation of Fire Nation guards encircled the hall. The power that was suggested in his stillness before was now palpable in a rippling aura of heat around him. They were all unable to tear their eyes away from him as he stood before them.
“For a hundred years, the Water Tribe has stood in isolation,” he said.
“Has turned away from our flame of progress.”
“Has stood—in the cold.”
“Stagnated, deprived, barely surviving.”
A deadly silence held the hall in place.
“No more.”
“You have seen the error of your ways.”
“Have come to us for help.”
“And we are obligated to share our guiding light.”
“With the expansion now in place, sealed with the marriage of Prince Zuko and Katara of the Water Tribe. We you enter a new era progress under the enduring strength of the Fire Nation.”
At the final words, the guards dropped to one knee in unison, metal striking ice. There was a glimmer on the pillars of the ice hall nearest Ozai. His display was causing them to melt slightly.
Katara couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Not the words themselves, the sentiment was there underneath the careful wording in the contract after all, but the sheer theatricality. Was this normal for them? The faces of the guards were hidden behind their helmets, so she couldn’t make anything of them. She turned slightly to look at Zuko and Azula, still seated behind their father.
Azula was looking directly at her with a bright, almost manic satisfaction. Katara couldn’t look away, it felt like a confirmation— like seeing the princess how she was, who she had been when she shot down Aang in gleeful victory. A grim expression settled on her face as she tore her eyes away from Azula, before it would feel impossible not to act on it. Her eyes found Zuko. Once again he wasn’t looking at any of them. He was staring directly at his father, expression tight.
Ozai’s gaze passed over them all once more to see if they would respond. When they all sat there enduring it, he turned languidly to Arnook. “I’ll let you do the final honors.”
After a moment Arnook bowed, carefully, as though the motion cost him something. “Yes,” he said tightly. “With that, the ceremony is concluded.”
-
Katara felt wrung out after the signing ceremony. Seeing Zuko again after so long had been unsettling. The anger was still there, quick to rise whenever she thought about Ba Sing Se, but his lack of response had thrown her off balance. It didn't fit with the image she carried of him. Zuko had always been intense. Angry. Desperate. Even at his worst there had been a rawness to him, something burning just beneath the surface. The prince who had sat across from her during the ceremony had felt carved out of stone instead.
It didn’t matter though. She had spent enough of her life trying to figure out what motivated him. She didn’t want to think about it any further. Whatever Zuko was thinking, it didn’t matter if his father was the one speaking.
Fire Lord Ozai taking over the ceremony had unsettled them all. No briefing had prepared them for what it felt like to be in the same room as him. The way he diminished the tribe’s survival and called a hundred years of violence progress. It was beyond disturbing.
Had it been the right thing to propose this alliance? Having now seen him in person it felt like letting a shark in the koi pond. And she was the one who had signed an agreement with him. She felt a little lightheaded and took hold of the table.
“How are you holding up, Sweetheart?” Her father asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m fine, just—”
“That insane speech?” Sokka cut in.
She breathed out slowly. “Yeah. Hearing all that out loud is just.. do they even hear themselves? Progress.”
“Did you see Azula’s face?” Sokka said. “Insane, I’m telling you.”
“Hm,” Hakoda said, tapping his fingers against the table, “the prince surprised me. He wasn’t what I was expecting from the way you described him.”
Katara scoffed. “Who knows what game he’s playing now. Don’t fall for it—it’s exactly how he draws people in.”
Sokka nodded in angry solidarity.
“Alright, I think it’s time for a drink,” Bato said, looking between them all. He popped the cork of a bottle containing a clear liquid and poured them all a glass.
He raised his. “To the alliance with Lord Fuckface, may his reign be short and painful.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Sokka said morosely, clinking his glass.
They all drank, even though it didn’t solve anything at least they were in it together. Having the Fire Nation actually disembark—and having to treat them as honored guests—left them all with a hollow, uneasy feeling. Conversation didn’t pick up again. Lost in their own contemplations on what had just happened.
Katara stared in her glass. The way those guards had all just dropped to their knees at once. How they had all just sat there and let Ozai run things. Shame burned in her cheeks. There were more ships and soldiers behind them, an entire system— the implicit threat of the huge ship they arrived in was clear.
Still. She had been there. Pakku had been there. Her father, brother and the other warriors..— should they have just taken them out? Could they have taken them out? It would have caught them by surprise that was for sure. She tapped the rim of her glass. The full royal leadership drowned under the flag of diplomacy. Wouldn’t that be something.
For a moment she imagined explaining it to Aang.
No. It would go against everything they stood for. It would make them the very barbarians the Fire Nation had always accused them of being. She had to admit though, it was tempting. After that speech
The air was cooling in their house now, embers only emitting a faint glow.
“Alright, I’m heading home,” Bato said, “have to make sure I’m ready for our next full day of enjoying our guests.”
“You could stay here if you want?” Hakoda said, a little pained at the mention of tomorrow.
“No better not— I don’t think I’d make good company tonight.” At seeing Hakoda’s expression, he hastened to add, “don’t worry, I won’t do anything rash. I just need to..” he rubbed a hand over his eyes, “come to terms with it.” With that he stood, squeezed Katara’s shoulder briefly and headed for the door.
“He’ll be alright, don’t worry,” Hakoda told them. “I think we should turn in to, no good thinking more on it, tomorrow will be a long day.”