Chapter Text
The pale moon flowers twisted around the balcony handrail, their sickly glow disrupting the calm yellows and browns of the Air Temple.
Katara sighed, staring into the night. She had suggested the flowers, hoping for a touch of control in the rushed chaos of planning the wedding. But Hana, their diligent wedding planner, was right: they really didn’t make sense.
She pulled away from the balcony, forcing herself to not dwell on the alien flowers any longer.
It puzzled her, the whole ordeal—how a moment so monumental could feel so fleeting. The proposal had come right after Zuko's coronation, Aang kneeling before her with a clumsy, almost grotesque water tribe pendant in hand. She smiled back at him, her heart swelling with the love she had always felt.
This was what she wanted.
Peace.
Yet, even in this moment of joy, a storm of anger brewed within her. The fat, wet kiss he planted on her lips, followed by the clumsy act of tying the pendant around her neck, ignited a fire she couldn’t quite explain.
She’s angrier than ever, and she doesn’t know why.
You’re angry at yourself. A voice echoed in her mind, a relentless reminder: yourself.
She loved Aang—always had. His childlike humor, the hope and peace he embodied. But this wedding, so rushed and haphazard, felt like a transition from one endless limbo to another, like she was stepping into a future that wasn’t truly hers.
Her legs moved on autopilot back to the room where her bridesmaids anxiously awaited. Each step felt heavy, as if the flowers lining the hallways could echo her doubts.
Knocking on the plain wooden door, marked only by an engraved Air Nation symbol, she was greeted by a scowling girl with dark hair.
“Took you long enough, Sweetness.” The black haired girl grumbled, but her eye brow furrowed slightly in a concerned fashion, in a way one who didn’t know her for many years would have failed to see.
Katara flushed and opened her mouth to respond, but another bridesmaid grabbed her by the wrist.
“Katara,” she said, firm yet loving. “I’d do anything for you, but what’s going on? This isn’t like you. You’re late.”
It wasn’t necessarily true, the wedding wasn’t for another two days, but the girls had planned numerous pampering activities, all of which the bride missed.
Katara shrugged and waved her hand nonchalantly, “Just tired. Wedding planning is exhausting, you know.”
Suki arched an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Katara, you have a wedding planner.”
Katara shrugged dismissively at the girl and turned her gaze to the empty room around them, feeling a knot of slight discomfort twist in her stomach. How could she—a self proclaimed feminist and fighter of sexism—have only two close female friends? It felt pathetic, a contradiction that gnawed and nestled its way to the shoulder of the rest of the messy contradictions inside her.
She sighed again, plucking an apple bush berry and popping it into her mouth, her thoughts swirling with frustration. Suki and Toph exchanged worried glances, their concern palpable in the dim candle light of the room.
“You know,” Suki finally said, her voice gentle but firm, “this isn’t like you, Katara.”
A tight ball of anger ignited within her, melting away the icy regret she’d been building. “Mind your own business,” she bit, her tone sharp and stinging.
Toph raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “We’re just concerned for you, that’s all. No need to get snappy.”
Suki stepped closer, her expression earnest but exhausted. “We want what’s best for you, but it feels like you’re not thinking clearly. This isn’t who you are.”
Katara scoffed, spinning to face them. “What part of ‘mind your own business’ don’t you fucking understand?”
Both girls fell silent, their mouths slightly agape, taken aback by the fierceness of her words.
Abruptly, Toph laughed short and rough.
“Spirits, Sweetness, you’re starting to sound like Zuko”
That remark struck a nerve Katara didn’t know she had. She let out a frustrated groan, Katara stormed away, her footsteps heavy against the ground.
As she passed, the delicate moon flowers lining the hallways wilted next her, their pale colors fading to an evermore dull, lifeless hue as she subconsciously drained them of water.
She couldn’t even bring herself to care.