// Hi, guys, I’m sorry to announce that I’ll be deleting this blog soon. I sure will miss you.
In a world where Amon succeeded, where bending withered away into extinction, where, generations later, very few are left who can still master the ancient art… a circus appears.
“I can’t…” He doesn’t know what to say, he hasn’t the slightest idea what he can say- could anything be said or done to make this right? He doubted it. “Can I say anything to make you stay?”
I think the world needs more Zutara/Phantom of the Opera. It would be an amazing AU.
The irony of that phrase is killing me.
Prince Zuko - Avatar: The Last Airbender
“I’ve always had to fight and struggle, and that’s made me strong.”
What the fuck happened to Zuko between season 1 and 3?
He went from a scary fuck to
one ofthe hottest creature I’ve ever seen.
She said she loved him, and he knew she did. But she still hadn’t answered his question- still hadn’t settled his doubts, chased them away with reassurances that made it feel like a bad dream.
This was no bad dream.
He could lose her. A part of him realized this, echoed it in some mockingly calm voice in his mind. It was a very tangible result of this entire event. One wrong move, and he could lose the best thing that’d ever happened to him. He’d never deserved her- not really- and she said she’d never hate him, but now it was more than that. There was the baby. And the baby, as much as he already loved the inanimate, unnamed thing, gave Katara more grounds to leave him than ever before.
He’d have to be extra careful.
“I love you,” he said again. She still hadn’t given an answer to that integral question. “I love you. Will you.. will you marry me, Katara?”
“I love you too.” That much was certain, would be forever certain. But was love enough? Was love enough to keep them together in the course of an unplanned, and honestly unwanted, pregnancy? Love was a fragile thing, and the glue that held her to Zuko could easily dissolve in the acidic face of stress borne of pregnancy and accusations.
Could she—could she really leave her Tribe for good? She lived with Zuko almost year round, but to marry him, become his Fire Lady—it felt too much like cutting the final tie that bound her to her ice-locked home.
But what else could she do? She loved him, she wanted him happy—
You will marry a very powerful bender.
Aunt Wu had been right—it had not been Aang, as she’d so briefly thought, but this scarred young man before her that was the source of that prediction.
“Yes, Zuko.” The words dropped like stones into a still pool—and she had to brace herself for the ripples they would cause. “Yes, I will marry you.”
He hadn’t realized, before she’d said it, how it would feel- the profound relief that would sweep over him, the slight ecstacy at the realm of possibilities. Katara was his. She was his. She said yes.
And all he could do was stand, shell-shocked, as his bride to be stared on expectantly.
“Agni… thank you.” He didn’t have to thank her- he knew that- but she was taking a chance on him, and he’d spoken mostly on impulse. It felt right. “Thank you, ‘Tara. I love you. I…” He was speaking too quickly, and he forced himself to slow down. “I don’t have a necklace. A betrothal necklace. Obviously.”
Zuko racked his brains for something to salvage the situation- you could lose her, all it takes is one mistake- before a light bulb flashed in his mind’s eye. “Give me a second.”
He reached into the folds of his robes, withdrew the small blade he kept there, then raised it to his hair. One quick slice later, and he had a small chunk of his ebony hair sitting in his palm. A few seconds later, and he’d tied the hair into a vaguely circular form.
“It’s a ring.” His hands had left her abdomen, but hers hadn’t; gently, he pried the left one from her stomach. Her skin was cold to the touch as he slid the makeshift ring onto one slim finger. “Mother told me about it… it’s an ancient tradition. It symbolizes trusting another with a piece of yourself. I’ll make you a betrothal necklace, of course- the best of the best- but for now….” He took a deep, shaky breath. “We’re engaged.”
Katara lifted her other hand, touched it to the lock of hair that circled her left ring finger. Trusting another with a piece of yourself—hadn’t they already done that? Two young people from broken homes, opening up to one another enough to let the other one in completely? They’d already given each other the best of themselves—and this ring was only a tangible way of signifying that.
Katara lifted her hands, one ringed, one bare, to the sides of Zuko’s face. That was it. They were engaged—it felt surreal, but not quite as surreal as the existence of his child in her belly, still little more than a speck of life.
She was engaged—she was going to be his Fire Lady, and that knowledge alone was enough to make her want to vomit from nerves. She was going to be his, and him hers, in the most binding of ways now.
They were engaged, and with their love, they’d created the seed of new life.
She was frightened—but so happy.
“Yes we are.” Katara kissed his bottom lip. “And I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.”
That was it- it was done. She kissed him, softly- a seal to something permanent, something that had already been in motion for years. Zuko didn’t doubt that for a second- he believed in destiny. And this was his.
“I guess this means we’re- we’re going to have a wedding.” It was odd, saying the word. It meant a world of implications, of ripple effects to his impromptu proposal that he wasn’t sure he was ready to consider. There was a lot he’d have to think about, a world he’d have to deal with- her family, the ceremony, her coronation, preparations, preparations. As he spoke, her ring scratched his cheek. He rather liked the feeling.
Zuko leaned into her, responding to the light in her eyes, catching her bottom lip between his teeth. He had a fiance- he had a child. Smiling against her mouth, Zuko let his hands rest against her stomach, cupping the life they’d made together and holding it in place- between them, mother and father, exactly where it should be.
Anyone else thinks Zuko’s tendency to faint every time he makes a right decision is rather hilarious? No? Okay.
Inspired by my conversation with dracze. (“Zuko, ty delikatna mimozo, ty”) Dracze, this is for you :D