#this whole situation just highlighted how much katara was forced to take on at such a young age

[the-badger-mole]

Do you think Katara should have apologized to Sokka for accusing him of not loving their mother like she did?

Not really. I mean, it was a harsh thing to say, but I'd argue it was accurate. Sokka himself has admitted that his younger sister supplanted his mother in his memories. Also, for Sokka to take Aang's side for the reasons he did was also harsh. I think they deserved to have a deeper conversation about that whole situation. .

[sokkastyles]

I'm reviewing atla right now and I want to skip all the scenes with Aang. He is so annoying and immature. Unfortunately, he will remain immature by the very end of the series. He will just get superpowers to solve all his problems. I love naive and positive characters, but Aang is not like that. He's not positive and he's not naive. He deliberately ignores what he doesn't like. He chooses those cultural traditions that are important to his comfort. He has a toxic masculinity and selfishness. And those qualities don't go anywhere. Aang's selfishness caused the world to suffer for 100 years. Gaang suffered from his selfishness ( and Aang is indirectly to blame for the SWT genocide). Aang still doesn't have the ability to take responsibility for his actions. He runs away and it reflects badly on the world. As always, I was pissed off by the episode with Bato and The Fortuneteller. Aang sexualizes Katara, also shows great disrespect for her culture. Aang doesn't apologize for this disrespect. Aang acts like a rat and an egomaniac in these episodes. I still don't understand why Aang has so many fans and why he is considered the best partner for Katara. People ignore so many bad things about Aang.

Okay, this is...a lot.

Whenever I rewatch, I actually do love Aang more than I enjoy interacting with his fandom because I feel like his fandom makes him into something he isn't (and a feminist hero is one of those things).

I do want to address what you say about Aang not being as positive as other people think, and that gets to something I said in my last rant about the way people talk about Azula and toxic positivity in fandom. There's a difference between being a positive person and denying anything negative in favor of "being positive."

I don't think it's fair to say that Aang is responsible for the war and the genocide, but I do wish we saw more of his grief and guilt explored. When it's brought up in "The Storm" and Aang is confronted with blame by people who suffered during the war, like the fisherman in that episode, that character is derided as horrible and forced to learn a lesson about what a hero Aang is, and Katara declares that Aang won't have nightmares about running away anymore. Why? How is Aang's trauma solved that easily? Why is the poor fisherman who suffered from the war painted as the one in the wrong for losing faith in the all-powerful hero when that hero never came?

I feel like Aang stans are actually a lot like Azula stans in that they both have this idea that they stan a character who is wrongly maligned and that feeds most of their interactions in fandom, and that does create an environment of toxic positivity, especially when they believe their fave is righteous (or in the case of Azula, enough of a victim). The biggest example of this with Aang I think is "The Southern Raiders," because people paint Aang as positive and morally good for promoting forgiveness. I've written a lot about what's wrong with Aang's attitude in this episode, but it boils down to the same thing when we try to portray Azula positively because she was "nice" to Zuko in a situation where she was clearly taking advantage of him. The main difference is that I don't think Aang was aware of how much he was hurting Katara by insisting she forgive her mother's murderer, but the end result is similar to Azula telling Zuko that he's stupid for daring to question the imperialist regime that has kept him under the thumb of his abuser his whole life. In both cases, Katara/Zuko both get to the point where they no longer are listening, and then they get painted as the negative ones for questioning the status quo and fighting back.

Because in the end, positivity and "why can't we all get along," when one side continues to believe that they have the right to abuse the other, only benefits the oppressors. There can be no tolerance for intolerance. Those two things don't go together.

The hypocrisy is also easily highlighted when you question why Aang was pushing Katara to forgive Yon Rha, but ignored how she was constantly quarrelling with Zuko. If Aang was really a force for positivity wouldn't he want to create harmony within his own group first?

Moreover, is remaining naive the same thing as being positive? That's why Zuko called what Aang was saying in that episode "Air Temple preschool" because he's all too used to being told that he shouldn't be angry at being hurt.

I feel like a better moral would have been an exploration of Aang's duty in relation to how his absence led to the creation of Jets and Hamas and Yon Rhas and Zukos. And that includes how war forced Aang to take on a role he wasn't ready for and that made him run away in the first place. That's not really a fault of Aang but I feel like the show wants us to see Aang as above it all too much, rather than acknowledging that his inability to face conflict is in fact a symptom of the war as much as any of the other characters are shaped by it. A lot of people like to say that Aang is the symbol of childlike wonder that the post-war world needs when in fact, Aang was a child who should have been allowed to be a child longer and Gyatso knew that, too, which is why he wasn't ready for Aang to give up his childhood, either.

I saw a post recently that said something interesting about how if there had been any Air Nomads left in the present timeline, their culture probably would have evolved and adapted to fit the changing world. The post claimed that therefore it was a good think that Aang never came into contact with such people, but WOULD that be a bad thing? It would be tragic, yes, but ultimately it would have also presented a learning opportunity for Aang to grow, and fit with ATLA's themes of learning and growing and changing, something that should absolutely go with the element of air.

[asongstress1422]

The Fire Dragon's Table

Zutara Fanfic – Part 7 of Bride from the Water Tribe

Summary: Katara was taken to the Northern Water Tribe by her grandmother; she was to be protected at all cost, for she was the last of the Southern Water. Once they got there, the North refused to teach her trying to strip her of her worth and turn her into what they wanted, a calm biddable healer to birth the next generation. They failed. And so as punishment they sent her to be a political bride to the Fire Nation. Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

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The females were driving Zuko mad.

Everywhere he went a pack of them were waiting to run him to ground. One would think that giving up two meals and the majority of one’s mornings would be enough for the hunters. But no, they still insisted on stealing even more of his time. Conveniently bumping into him in hallways and offering to walk with him, perfectly timed twisted ankles that required his help getting them to their destination. It was getting to the point where he was skulking around his own palace to keep under their radar.

It was humiliating.

A week into the bridal endeavor, after a disaster filled afternoon of meetings, Zuko was relieved when he had been able to slip into his rooms undetected. The two guards bowed and opened the door for him. At the sound of the solid wood closing behind Zuko let out a deep sigh, the exhaustion of the day pulling at his shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to stretch out naked on his bed and ignore the world for one night of full, uninterrupted, deep sleep.

It was a pipe dream though and he knew it. Servants were already setting up the evening meal and the guest of honor would be arriving within the hour. Not enough time for a nap but plenty of time to change and make a small dent in the mountain of paperwork waiting for him before she arrived.

Zuko didn’t care for the fact that both the morning and evening meals with the candidates were served in his room. He would have much preferred to have them in the more formal dining hall. His uncle had pointed out that, at standard, the dining hall could easily seat two hundred, and the point of these particular meals were to get to know the women. That meant letting them into his personal territory, seating them across from him at the low table, and talking to them over the food.

‘Forced intimacy’ his Uncle called it. Zuko understood the ‘forced’ part but if anything the meals were an ordeal. The women thus far fell into two groups: the ones that blushed and giggled the whole time and the ones that looked at him as if he were the designated main course.

Instead of having to play court to the passel of candidates he wished he could get back to work on the things that really mattered, like running his country. Uncle thought this was important though and Zuko respected his counsel. It wasn’t as if things were going well in the ‘running the country' department either.

There were twenty-four representatives that made up the governing body of the Fire Nation. The issues arose from that each one seemed to have their own way on how things should be run. His Uncle, as head of the Kasai House, deferred to Zuko in all things even though he was currently the Regent. A few other members had taken Iroh’s lead, going so far to acknowledge the heir’s point of view before putting forth their own. The others seemed to discount everything Zuko said as if he didn’t have the brains to rub two thoughts together as they vied against one another to try and push forward their own agenda. Then they tisked and scolded if Zuko demanded their attention as if he were a child throwing a tantrum.

Once he was crowned Fire Lord that would all change, he thought menacingly. When he became Fire Lord in truth they would have to listen to him. Until then he would keep his calm and finish the hunt for a wife that would stand beside him.

As a servant helped him take off the stiff leather mantle, Zuko tried to remember who was going to be there for his perusal this night. Lady Faunten? A second daughter to a prominent earth family and three years his junior. She enjoyed watercoloring. No, she was set later in the week.

It was Lady Zemara he decided as he sat behind his desk separating documents that needed his immediate attention with those he could look at when he had more time. Eldest daughter of the Ohisama House her firebending was considered one of the hallmarks of the clan. She was a high choice of the Fire Sage’s, the Temple of Spirit was situated on her home island. There was something about her though that set off Zuko’s warning bells. Powerful, beautiful, and intense, she reminded him of a more outgoing Mai, his once intended fiance.

He felt a pang in his chest remembering the somber, quiet girl from his childhood. After spending most of his life knowing they were going to be married and learning the hidden facets of her personality, not all of them good, Zuko considered himself half in love with her. He had been so naive, so sure things were going to go on exactly as they were planned. And now she was dead.

Zuko dug his fingers into the ache that settled into his left eye. Agni, it felt like a lifetime since he first heard the news of the failed uprising that had cost both his ex-betrothed and his sister’s life. Rubbing his face he sighed, getting back to his paperwork. Just because things had changed from their designated course didn’t mean Zuko had the luxury of letting things fall by the way side.

Tonight he would have dinner with Lady Zumara and, regardless of any personal trepidation, if she was the best choice for his country he would make her the next Fire Lady. If she was not, he still had another ten Houses to choose a mate from.

Zuko nearly snarled at the servant who came to tell him of his guest’s arrival. He was in the middle of reading a legal appeal sent in by the Jang Hui village, a small fishing hamlet situated in the middle of the river of the same name. They were asking for restitution, claiming that the pollution being poured into the river by the near by military factor was destroying their way of life. Fish spawns were dying out, people were getting sick, and there was no money for repairs or to move.

At the lowered eyes of the attendant, Zuko reeled himself back in. It wasn’t the maid’s fault that there were people out there, his people, that needed help. Zuko thanked the servant, who bowed hesitant before returning to her task, and took a full minute to collect himself before he walked into the main portion of the suite. It wasn’t the Lady Zumara’s fault either he reasoned, that he was constantly being forced to stop and play host. He had made the invitation, she had accepted; placing blame would not help anyone and would only make more hurt feelings.

“My Lady, thank you for joining me--,” the practiced words were already falling from his lips when he stepped into the room, so it was a punch in the gut when the red garbed woman turned and speared him with her dazzling blue gaze. His eyes narrowed. “You.”

Lake Katzka --er, Katara raised a delicately arched brow at the less-than-diplomatic sneer on her host’s face.

“Good evening, Crown Fire Prince.” She bowed, her completely proper greeting setting Zuko’s teeth on edge as it only highlighted his own rudeness.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Zuko couldn’t put an exact finger on it but there was a distinct note of annoyance in her carefully maintained serenity. “I was told to be here.”

“By whom?” he pressed, not putting it past her to make him look stupid again. Wouldn’t it be just great if he affronted one of his own people by seeming to double book her with this water nation girl.

“A note signed by the Regent.” Her eyes were frosty but she kept her tone tightly reigned in.

Her composer irked him. His smile was all teeth when he asked, ever so saccharine, “you wouldn’t happen to have that on you, would you?”

The air itself became cool when she leveled her eyes on him, looking ready to rip him a new one. He waited with bated breath for such an explosion knowing he could use such ungrateful behavior to send her away.

But she did something unexpected. Without another word she turned and marched for the door. Zuko frowned, wondering what her game was. The servants must have been confused as well because no one rushed forward to open it for her before she stormed out.

His jaw dropped. Did she just leave? She couldn’t just leave. She had to make a scene and he had to be the one to send her away. If she just up and left it put him in the weaker position of having his behavior questioned. Why a woman, whose sole purpose in coming here was to marry him, couldn’t stand to remain in his presence.

‘Just let her go,’ his mind hissed even though he knew he couldn’t and stomped after her. She was already turning the corner when he stepped into the hall.

“Lady Katara,” he shouted. He knew she heard him but she blithely continued on,  ignoring him completely. His temper spiked at being forced to march after her. Zuko had already made too many public missteps with this particular candidate and, that he couldn’t smooth things with another water nation woman, made keeping up appearances with this one just that much more important.

He growled under his breath, trying not to think how undignified he looked chasing after the woman, already choking on the apology he knew he would have to give.

“Lady Katara,” close enough now he reached out to touch her arm, wanting to stop her and get her to face him--

Suddenly he was flying through the air.

Nearly twenty years of combative training made sure that he rolled when he landed, gaining his feet nearly as fast as she had tossed him. Instinct sent him into a defensive crouch as he faced his opponent, only to see she was mirroring him. They froze, shocked, as their brains snapped back on.

She was the first one to straighten, her arm’s falling limply at her sides in their heavy sleeves. Her shoulders remained rigid. “What do you want, Fire Prince?”

Her body language clearly stated she was not going to bring up what just happened and her look dared him to comment.

Fine with him, if she wasn’t going to apologize then neither would he.

“I’m here to escort you to dinner, my lady.” He offered his arm in an elegant manner as his eyes dared her right back. If she was committed to playing this game they could act as if this second was their first meeting of the night.

Looking at his hand as if it were diseased, her glared very nearly turned into a sneer when she flicked her eyes up to meet his. She did not take him up on his escort but she did spin on her heel and glide back up the hall towards his rooms.

Fighting a victorious smile he folded his arms behind his back as he trailed behind her.

They were almost in sight of his door when she dropped back to walk beside him, looping her arm through his. He raised a brow, questioning her sudden change in demeanor. She huffed through her nose, rolling her eyes, before pointedly looking at the two guards that were pretending not to watch them walk back.

Zuko sighed, frustrated with the constant need to keep up appearances and annoyed that others had seen the theatrics they were both pretending hadn't happened. At least they hadn’t seen her throw him, he didn’t think his pride could take the additional blow tonight.

He deposited Lady Katz--Katara on her side of the table before throwing himself on his own pillow across from her. Taking this as their cue, the servants started bringing out dish after dish of steaming food. All Fire Nation delicacies. Only the best for the Prince and his potential bride.

Zuko snorted at the thought.

He poured the tea, placing a full cup before his guest. Having fulfilled the very basic of niceties he turned to serving himself from the bowls laid out before them. It had been a long time since breakfast and his tight schedule had not permitted lunch so he was ravanis.

Out of the corner of his eye Zuko watch as the lady picked up her tea and sniffed at it. Scrunching up that little button nose of hers she quickly returned the cup to the table untasted.

He mentally rolled his eyes at the finickiness of women. Jaya Nidhi, the Earth Kingdom candidate he had breakfast with three mornings ago, would not eat anything green. Lady Kimiko had complained at every bite that nothing matched up to the food her personal chef made at Kazen House.

Lady Katara further confused him though when, instead of following him in filling her plate, she pushed it aside and set a book in its place.

Zuko paused in the process of scooping date filled saffron rice. While the others had been picky, they had joined him in the meal. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“No.” She flipped the book open.

Setting down the serving spoon he sat back, frowning. “Then why did you join me for dinner?”

“I was told to be here,” she repeated absently, searching through the pages.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yes,” she hummed finding her place and settling in to read.

“Then why don’t you eat?” he made a sweeping gesture encompassing the food that could easily feed a family of six.

She half shrugged, “it is spicy.”

He blinked, pulling up everything he knew about this particular candidate which wasn’t very much. “I thought you liked spicy foods.”

Her eyes flickered up to look at him from under dark lashes before returning to the book, “no.”

“Then why did you say you did?” he snarled, not liking that it felt like he had just been scolded.

“I did not.” Not even bothering to look up this time as she turned the page.

“Yes you did,” he insisted, rage crisping the memory, “at the welcoming party.���

“No.” She straightened folding her arms across the book as she leaned forward, a bite to her own words. “I made a statement that you took for agreement.” Her eyes turned cutting, “you do that a lot.”

Zuko physically bit his tongue, something he found he had to do with more and more regularity in his life. He did not like it. He did permit himself a glare. She simply glared back before returning to her book.

If she was going to ignore him he would returned the favor ten fold. He stabbed at his plate, shoving the food in his mouth. What did he care if she starved herself? It wasn’t as if he was denying her sustenance, he though eyes raking the groaning table. If she was going to be stubborn abou--

A grumble followed by a long gurgle broke through the tense silence.

Zuko’s head shot up, locking on the source of the noise. Katara’s fists were clenched on the table, face beat red, eyes wide as she stared unseeingly down at her book, mortified.

He snorted and, trying to cover up the sound, broke out into a laugh, then a cackle until he was bent over clutching his side.

The table jumped as Katara slammed the book closed and surged to her feet.

“No, wait,” Zuko said, still chuckling, as he reached out to catch her arm.

Spinning she latched on his restraining hand. Muscle memory kicked in as Zuko countered, getting her into an elbow lock before she could break his finger. Off balance, half sitting as he was, he was in the worst possible position when she stepped into him, taking the pressure off her arm at the same time she took the both of them to the ground in a tangle of red silk.

Landing as purposeful dead weight she used her shoulder to drive the air from his lungs and break out of his hold. Zuko just managed to catch the elbow strike she sent for his face, using her momentum to roll them over so he was the one on top. Rearing back, he barely missed the swipe of her clawed hand going for his eyes, grabbing the arm and pinning it to her chest. A flood of liquid hit him in the face momentarily blinding him but he was able to catch her other hand and lock it down with the first, keeping him from receiving any more damage while he couldn’t see.

“I commend you, Lady Katara,” Zuko panted exhilarated, using his shoulder to rub the spilt tea their flailing had caused from his eyes. “You most definitely would have made a good showing against Lady Chou.” Vision clear he smiled down at her, wanting to share the elation of a good fight.

Her face was as pale as he’d ever seen it, pupils blown wide and nostrils fluttering with her too fast breathing.

“Get off me,” she snarled as he felt her tremble in his hold.

Sick to his stomach Zuko let her go, scrambling back until he ran into the table and could go no further. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean--”

Without a word her look reduced him to silence.

She gained her feet, every movement tightly controlled. Not sparing him another glance as she sailed from the room regal as a queen.

He set his teeth against the beginnings of a panic attack, selflothing curling in his belly as the door shut so softly behind her. He hadn’t meant any harm, he tried to reassure himself, but it didn’t fix the fact that the lady had no way of knowing that.

Agni, the fear in her eyes gutted him.

He had promised himself he would never make anyone look upon him the way they had his father. He still remembered being on his knees looking up at the man that was supposed to protect him and begging him for forgiveness. Remembered believing for years after that he deserved the punishment he had received at the hands of the mad man.

Zuko’s fist hit the table. The empty tea cups jumped, tipping over. Burying his face in his hand, he dug his fingers into the aching flesh of his scar.