Not Too Far from the Yew Tree (an ATLA fanfiction)

Promise of Eternity

Snow fell softly in the same color as the young woman's hair. Yue, in a white dress, a white parka, and a tiara of silver joined hands with her new husband at the dais. Behind them poured the waterfalls cresting from the palatial terrace, between them swirled the snow, which muted the crowd watching the celebration. She was beautiful and looked miserable. As the princess stepped forward, giving her final address, the charm on her necklace caught the light. It was a pure, creamy jade, so pale it was almost colorless. Jade was said to represent joy and fortune. The stone was blanched of nearly all its color and, while exquisitely valuable, retained nothing of the rich, vibrant green full of life that it was renown for. Two hours of daylight was all the grace they had, and the ceremony started and ended in darkness.

Her brother and Suki held hands while they watched the wedding and he whispered something to her. She pulled his arm closer. Aang was called to the front, congratulated the newlyweds, and bowed to the chieftain, then returned to his seat. He saw nothing amiss. She wondered that, since the Air Nomads lived apart, forming no nuclear family, living men separated from women, children separated from parents, if he understood what a marriage really meant to the rest of them. Of the four nations, Air seemed the most alien to her. Strangers from abroad had arrived for the ceremony, but, with the busy activity, they hadn't yet been introduced. Beside her, Zuko watched the events without remark. Snow flecked his parka and black hair, and his cheeks were flushed with the temperature. Of everyone it would be he who understood most what an arranged marriage meant and how ambivalent an affair it was.

They watched the bride and groom pour each other rice wine. The guests, then, poured for each other, and she watched Zuko fill her cup with the creamy-white liquor and pass the bottle to her to reciprocate. Together they lifted their cups and drank bittersweet sake.

That night she pushed the blankets back in the darkness and slipped from the bed. In the living area she pulled the furnace door open and tried to relight it by stirring the lingering embers, which glowed strongly but did not take. "Do you need help with that?" Zuko asked, having come from the hallway. He knelt beside her and lit it for her. She envied the convenience, and her cheek lit with gold from the close fire of the portable furnace. He shut the grate and sat down nearby on the pile of furs. "Can't sleep?"

"She looked so sad. Yue, I mean. It kept bothering me."

"She doesn't love him. Arranged marriages are like that."

"Doesn't it bother you? I mean, if circumstances had been different, wouldn't your father have arranged a bride for you?"

"I was thrown out at thirteen, before I had thoughts about it, and since then it hasn't been a problem. No one would sign over their daughter to a man in disgrace. I'd like to say they would learn to love each other, eventually, but I haven't seen that necessarily to be the case. My mother never did. I want you to meet her, one day; I want to find her. She's what the Fire Nation should be—warm, loving. Not like my father."

"Do you hate him?"

"It's difficult for a child to hate their parent, even when they have more than enough reason to. Resentment might be the better word. It's a cruel, one-sided relationship. When something goes wrong, it's always the child who suffers the most, and then they can't even be awarded the clarity of mind to feel the hatred they need without guilt washing it out. I'd like to rip all my memories of him out and throw them away. At the very least, I hope my mother hates him the way he deserves."

"We'll find your mother, when this is over," she promised. "Do you know where she might be?"

"No, I don't." He kept his eyes to the fire as it flickered between the cast iron slats. She was awake with thoughts of the misfortunate princess, but her companion seemed a regular to insomnia lately. Katara was used to the difficulty of a polar region, but for a foreigner it must have been arduous to endure the number of changes in required in lifestyle to survive the climate. He said the words as if afraid of them, "If I said I liked you, what would your answer be?"