The Lilac Horizon Between a Blue Sky and a Red Earth

Dressed for Success

The dress is custom made to fit her. It is silk, fur, and lace, long and overdone, like every wedding dress should be. Katara likes to imagine herself wearing it while not pregnant. That's the only thing that could make the day better: not being pregnant. There's a sense of urgency to marry, so as not to bear the heir out of wedlock. She never would have imagined marrying like this. But here she is, watching her life whisk her away into a hopeful and happy future.
There's so much going through her mind as two young ladies fuss over her hair and makeup. What if there's another attempt on Zuko's life? What if she goes into a premature labor? What if she embarrasses herself in front of the guests? What if they reject her as their Fire Lady?
There are many traditions to be followed, from both cultures. A large part of the planning was cherrypicking the traditions from their respective nations to use in their conjoined ceremony. Katara wanted to skip the face paint, but Zuko demanded it.
Just like Zuko wanted to skip the customary ballad and dance associated with common Fire Nation weddings.
Iroh had been the one to tell her that the wedding between the Fire Lord and Fire Lady are unlike any other type of wedding in the country. The intimacy and love that come with the union are typically replaced with a lack of familiarity between the two, a heightened emphasis on honor and nobility, and a victory march instead of a ballad. When held in such high standing, two people tend to marry for power, convenience, money, diplomacy, or to uphold the bloodline.
Zuko had wanted to keep these unhappy truths from Katara. He assumed she would be disappointed that the fantasy of her wedding would be snatched away by his country's expectations.
Instead she and Iroh had laughed together. He had never expected to throw them a traditional royal wedding. They had already shattered countless traditions by simply existing. Katara had been the whirlwind that sent the Fire Nation's narrow minded concept of normality crashing to the ground.
So what's the harm in breaking just one more tradition?
Katara's grandparents had agreed to bring a feast of Water Tribe proportions. She can't even imagine what the rest of the palace looks like right now. Gran Gran has likely commandeered the kitchen by now. Hakoda is probably setting up a perimeter of guards. Sokka is likely to be drinking already, or hitting on her fiancé, or both. Toph is in the other room, getting dolled up just as extensively as Katara.
Zuko, she knows for a fact, has probably gone half crazy trying to sort out last minute wedding details. In her mind she can see Iroh bustling along behind him, trying to convince him to relax and leave the work to him, a little overwhelmed but happy for the first time in weeks.
She smiles to herself, a hand coming to rest on her bump, as her betrothal necklace is fastened for her at the base of her throat.

"Please, Nephew, you need to get ready."
"But there's still so much to be done. The lanterns aren't lit. The food isn't ready. The altar isn't even finished yet-"
"Lord Zuko, please try to relax," Iroh stops him with a warm hand on his shoulder. "You are still in your pajamas. Let me worry about what needs to be done. You have much work to do on your appearance if you want to match Katara."
Zuko glances down at his bare feet and open robe and sleeping pants. He knows his uncle is right. He doesn't want to disappoint Katara today, of all days. He will have their entire future to disappoint her. Just not today.
So, reluctantly, he nods, thanks his uncle, and makes his way to his bedchambers.
When he opens the doors to his room, he's instantly hit in the face with something silk.
"Zuko!" Katara squeals. "Wait, don't look. You're not supposed to see me yet. Close your eyes."
Obediently, he does. He's never heard of this rule before.
"Why can't I see you?"
"It's bad luck. I thought you were already ready."
"No, I've been busy. Why is it bad luck?"
"I don't know, it just is. It ruins the surprise."
"But it's just me."
"I know. It's a surprise for you. You know a wedding is supposed to be between two people. Not two people and an audience."
Zuko smirks. He'd forgotten that such excessive pageantry is only common in royal Fire Nation weddings.
He feels Katara yank the belt that dangles from his robe and tie it around his eyes. All that he's sure of then is that she smells divine, like fresh water and white peach and citrus and jasmine and toasted sugar, all swirled up into a symphony of aromas.
"How am I supposed to get dressed if I can't see?"
He hears her inhale pensively.
"I'll dress you. Is this the outfit here, hanging on the bed frame?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"Nice pick. Arms out."
He extends both arms to his sides. Katara's fingers graze his shoulders as she sweeps the robe off, letting it fall to the floor and gather behind his ankles. Without warning, her fingers hook in his waistband and drop his pants, leaving him exposed. He shuffles uncomfortably.
He's left standing there naked for longer than he likes. Occasionally she grazes a knuckle along his lower back, or the divide of his chest, and he shudders violently at the unexpected touch.
Suddenly he hears the doors open and slam against the wall. Zuko scrambles to cover himself with something, nearly falling over in the process. Katara presses her back to his front instinctively, and he enjoys this contact, until he hears,
"Whoa. What smells like sugar queen, Sugar Queen?"
"Toph," Katara says disapprovingly, removing herself. "We're a little busy."
She taps the balls of her feet against the floor. "Is Hotpants pantsless?"
"Toph!"
"Yes, I am. Now get out."
"There's no shame. You know I see everybody naked all at the time, right? I register clothing long after I register body parts. That means I know what your butt looks like, Sugar Queen."
"Me, too," Zuko nudges Katara playfully and tries to wink, but the blindfold interferes.
"Toph. Out. Now."
She turns on her heel and saunters out, chuckling to herself. Katara closes the doors behind her. She gives a sigh and returns to her nude husband-to-be.
"Anyway, where were we?"
"You were going to dress me. Or try. Good luck figuring out royal wedding robes."
"I'm assuming these go first," she taps his ankle, so he lifts it and allows her to guide his foot into a pair of undershorts. She pulls them up and snaps the waistband around his hips.
She fumbles with the fabrics for a minute before helping him into a pair of calf-length leggings. She hooks his arm into the sleeve of something cool and silky that crosses over his chest. Then comes the collared velvet robe, a high-low, he thinks it's called, and the belt with the extended loincloth that comes to a point just below his knees. With some trouble, she lowers the armor onto his shoulders and fastens it.
Next come the boots- black leather with a single golden strip leading down the middle and to the traditional pointed and upturned toe. Then, the arm guards- they're heavy, made of leather, and they fasten to his forearms and come to a point at the backs of his knuckles.
"You know I still have to do my hair."
"I will do it," Katara guides him to the bed and plops him onto it. She sits behind him and begins to comb out the hair that has now begun to fall past his shoulders. She sweeps the top half into a bun, deftly excluding the blindfold, and ties it with a ribbon, then sticks his crown into it.
"Very handsome," she praises him. He feels the weight on the bed shift, then hears her padding barefoot across the room. She returns and orders him, "Chin up."
She pats him down with cologne, all along his neck and wrists and chest. He doesn't want to admit it, but he likes all the attention.
"Alright. You're done. Now go, I'm not ready yet."
"I can't leave. My uncle sent me here to get me out of his hair."
Katara laughs lightly. "I knew it."
"So I can't leave. I guess that means I have to stay here with you," Zuko snakes his arms around Katara and pulls her into his lap.
"Alright. You can stay. As long as you keep the blindfold on."