Chapter Text
The first thing Katara noticed was the silence.
Not the peaceful kind. The heavy kind. The kind that settled over a room when people were waiting for someone to break first.
Sunlight spilled through the towering windows of the Fire Nation council chamber, turning the polished floor gold. Heat clung to the air despite the open doors overlooking the palace gardens, and Katara resisted the urge to tug at the collar of the formal water tribe robes her father had forced her to wear upon arrival.
Across the room, Fire Lord Zuko looked just as uncomfortable.
Which, admittedly, made her feel a little better.
He sat beside his council table, jaw tight, amber eyes fixed somewhere over the heads of his advisors like he was imagining setting the entire room on fire and walking away.
Katara sighed as she folded her arms
“Well?” she said sharply. “Somebody asked me and my family to come all the way here. I’m assuming there was a reason.”
A few ministers exchanged nervous glances.
Cowards.
Finally, Uncle Iroh, seated to the left of Zuko, cleared his throat.
“First off, the Fire Lord and I would like to thank everyone for joining us, especially Chief Hakoda and his two children. Your presence is appreciated as much as it is needed.” Iroh smiled as Hakoda nodded his head to him.
“The world remains… unstable after the war,” he stated carefully. “Despite the Avatar’s efforts, many nations still distrust the Fire Nation.”
Katara’s expression flattened.
“I can’t imagine why.”
Uncle Iroh let out a light chuckle as Sokka shoves her at her bluntness, “We all saw it coming Master Katara. A burn always takes time to heal.”
From the corner of her eye, she caught the briefest twitch at the corner of Zuko’s mouth before he smoothed it away.
Traitor.
“The colonies are divided,” Iroh continued quickly. “Trade negotiations with the Earth Kingdom have stalled. There are rumors of loyalist uprisings in the western territories.”
Katara frowned slightly.
That part she hadn’t heard.
Zuko finally spoke, voice clipped.
“Get to the point Uncle.”
The room went tense again.
Iroh inhaled slowly like a man preparing for execution.
“I have talked with Chief Hakoda and the council,” he said, “ and we believe that the strongest possible symbol of unity between nations would be an official royal alliance.”
Katara blinked once.
Then twice.
No. Absolutely not.
She looked at Zuko as he went perfectly still.
Chief Hakoda clears his throat and stands, placing his hand on Katara’s shoulder, “We ought to believe that a unity between the Fire Nation and the Southern Water Tribe would reassure citizens, strengthen diplomatic relations, and symbolize the end of hostilities between our peoples. And we think the best way to make this happen is a marriage between Fire Lord Zuko and someone who played a significant role in ending the Hundred Year War. My daughter, Katara.”
Katara whipped her head up to look at her father in horror.
Then slowly turned toward Zuko.
He looked just as horrified.
Good.
“Dad,” she said dangerously, “you cannot be serious”
Nobody answered.
Which was an answer enough.
Sokka laughs once in disbelief and slumps in his chair, “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
Several council members immediately looked down at the floor.
Cowards, all of them.
Zuko rose from his seat so abruptly the legs of his chair scraped harshly against stone.
“No,” he said flatly.
The word cracked through the chamber as the wall sconces’ flames grew brighter.
Katara almost wanted to hug him for it.
One advisor hurried forward. “Your Majesty, if you would simply consider-”
“I said no.”
Heat flared sharply in the room with the force of his anger. Tiny tongues of fire curled unconsciously around his fingertips before vanishing just as quickly.
Everyone shifted nervously.
Katara should have felt awkward sitting there while the Fire Lord lost control in front of his entire council. Instead, she mostly felt impressed.
“Yes, Master Katara played a very important role in ending the war. Hell, she even saved my life,” Zuko briefly glances at Katara before continuing. “But I’m not turning her into some political sacrifice just because you’re all afraid of paperwork.”
Katara’s anger flickered unexpectedly. Not gone. Just… redirected.
Uncle Iroh places a hand on his nephew’s shoulder “This is larger than personal discomfort, Zuko. We have tried everything to prove the Fire Nation has changed but nothing has worked.”
Katara stands before Zuko could respond.
“Personal discomfort?” she repeated. “All due respect General Iroh, but you and my father think marrying me off to Zuko as a means to fix all the political problems counts as discomfort?”
Hakoda looks at his daughter, “Honey, no one is forcing-”
“No?” she snapped. “Then I’m leaving.”
To her surprise, Zuko immediately said, “Good.”
Their eyes met across the chamber.
For one strange second, they looked less like world leaders and more like two exhausted teenagers who had accidentally survived a war and were now being punished for it.
Then another minister spoke.
“If this alliance fails,” he said quietly, “then peace may fail with it.”
The room stilled.
Katara’s chest tightened slightly.
That was the problem, wasn’t it?
Not a ridiculous proposal.
Not the humiliation.
The possibility that this stupid plan might actually work.
She hated that part. Zuko’s expression darkened too, which meant he was thinking the exact same thing.
Iroh softens his voice and turns to the Water Tribe family.
“The world listens to symbols,” he said carefully. “The Fire Lord and the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe standing together would mean something to people.”
Sokka stands and nudges Katara slightly, “He does have a point Katara. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an outrageous, stupid plan. But it would turn things around.”
Katara sighed.
Because that was unfair. And because some small, terrible part of her understood.
Silence stretched again.
Outside, somewhere deep in the palace gardens, is a hole Katara would very much love to crawl into.
Zuko exhaled through his nose. “This is insane,” he muttered.
Katara crossed her arms tighter. “Agreed.”
The council waited.
Katara suddenly wished desperately that Aang were here. He would have said something hopeful and wise and impossibly optimistic. Toph probably would have laughed herself unconscious.
Instead, it was just her and Zuko. Again. Somehow always at the fucking center of impossible decisions.
Zuko glanced toward her then, tension still sharp in his face. But underneath it, she saw something else too.
Not resentment.
Not political calculation.
Worry. For her.
That somehow made everything worse. Katara swallowed hard and looked away before he could notice.
“I need time,” she said finally.
The council visibly relaxed. Hakoda looked at her sharply.
“Katara-”
“I said time,” she interrupted quietly. “Not yes.”
The council began speaking all at once, murmurs filling the chamber.
Katara barely heard them. Because across the room, Zuko was still staring at her with the same conflicted expression, and for the first time since walking into the palace, she realized something terrifying.
If this happened, if they actually agreed to this, it wouldn’t ruin strangers.
It would ruin them.